The Hacker Who Became No One

by A J Jameson

  “The park,” Zyta muttered, and cursed her lethargic mind for taking so long to catch on. Maybe there’s a reason for Law’s no intoxicants rule. “Dreary lot.”

  Pablo gave a vigorous no. “I thought you said it was Little Creek.” He waited for her to nod. “I’m glad she worked out for you,” he said, and walked off.

  Zyta flinched at the thundering sounds of pneumatic drills and metallic tools. Why didn’t she take an anti-inflammatory tablet from her supply in the van?

  She reached the shooting range. All clear. And Law’s office door was shut. She could stroll past it to the staircase at a leisurely pace, but…what if? I’d tell him I was at Little Creek. And the alcohol on her breath? Tactic employed to boost neighborly approval ratings. Did it work? No. Zyta took a deep breath. Short, curt answers. A nod of the head, or a stern shake. No breath involved.

  She passed Law’s office and made it to the stairs without a problem. The briefing room above was quiet and proved vacant when she arrived. Maybe she didn’t have anything to worry about. Maybe nobody cared that she had gone MIA for the past ten hours. Maybe…

  “Zyta, where were you last night?” It was Eduardo. He had a halved passionfruit in hand, the handle of a spoon sticking out of its center. “Victoria said she hadn’t seen you since before roll call, the same answer I got from the rest of the squad. You know how Law is when it comes to bodies unaccounted for.”

  “Law above all else around here,” Zyta mocked. She stopped mid-stride. “And how do we even know Law is his real name? What if it’s a faux?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Zyta rubbed her aching head. “Sorry. I can’t move past the idea that he’s hiding something…the missing DNA files.”

  “You may want to concern yourself with your own missing presence last night.” He leaned in. “And your ratchet body odor.”

  Zyta pushed him away and took a whiff of herself. All she could smell was the lingering scent of Umar, and that wasn’t ratchet in the least. “Speak for yourself,” she joked.

  “And take a cup of coffee in the shower with you. You look like hell.”

  Zyta considered it, but then made for Bravo’s personal quarters. Along the way she saw Victoria, her mentor’s eyes wide and sad like a puppy’s. Zyta had no say in it. She changed course again.

  A light chorus of grunts emitted from the gymnasium’s heavy bag area. One of the younger, thirty-something Delta members was sticking the bag blow after blow. Beyond the boxing equipment was a rack of free-weights and a row of benches, a different Delta member exercising his pectoralis muscles. It was as if Delta squad were replacing Alpha.

  “Hey, everything okay?” Zyta asked, reaching Victoria.

  A rhythmic beep…beep…beep came from Kyle’s heartrate monitor. Victoria checked his IV drip, then sighed. “We’re going to have to—”

  “Zee!” It was Marek, calling from the command center. At first glance all his questions were answered, but he marched over and inquired anyway. “Where were you last night? Eduardo came asking for you and nobody knew where you were and…” he lowered his voice. “And you turned your phone off?”

  “I was testing the new medical van at a recreational park. It’s called Little Creek,” she said. “No cell service.”

  Marek raised an eyebrow. “Right, well…”

  Zyta turned and walked away, knowing she’d get about five steps before her brother caught up and turned her around. “I need a shower,” she said, loud enough for her mentor to hear. Victoria was like a mother, and sometimes mothers overreacted when children broke the rules. Three, to be exact.

  Zyta whispered as Marek caught up, “You know where I was.”

  “Yeah, well, you look like shit.” He sniffed her. “And you were drinking, too? Jesus, next time why don’t you just run off and get married, make a couple of kids, and….” Zyta couldn’t suppress a smile. “You’re kidding me.” Marek grabbed her arm and led her into Bravo’s personal quarters. “Non-physical dates, restricted visitation, and no sleepovers until the knot’s tied,” he said.

  Zyta pulled free of his grip. “You sound like my grandfather’s grandfather. It’s not the 1800s.”

  “Not my call,” he said. “It’s Law’s.”

  “Just like we’re all supposed to upload our genomes to the database, yet Law didn’t,” she spat.

  “Seriously? Is that what this is about? Getting revenge on Law by visiting your stupid boyfriend because he forgot to give a DNA sample?”

  “Forgot? When are you going to forget to make a new excuse for him every time he’s wrong?” She turned for the shower. Marek grabbed her arm and she yanked it free, accidently smacking him in the face. “I’m sorry,” she said, her hand frozen midair.

  Marek kept his eyes fixed on the wall beside him, nostrils flaring. “You’re going to regret it one of these times, Zee.”

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated, an anchor of disgust at her actions weighing heavily in the pit of her stomach.

  “And I’m not going to be able to stop him when you finally cross the line. And you will, if you keep doing dumb shit like this.”

  Zyta glanced at Marek’s hands, balled into fists. She watched the edges of his flitting shoulders. The single crease that traversed his pale forehead. Anywhere but his eyes, their hazel ponds haunted with darkness.

  A shadow flickered behind Marek. He sensed it and turned around. “Shit,” Zyta stammered, her throat tightening as she witnessed the prisoner that was posed for death saunter out of the bathroom. He no longer wore a business suit, and his hair was a shade lighter than she had last remembered, but every other feature of Axel Hoffmann bore the anxious yet excited demeanor of someone landing a job.

  Zyta leaped forward and embraced her brother, squeezing him close.

  “Somebody missed you,” Axel said, yet…

  “Your voice modulator isn’t working,” Marek said.

  The voice?

  Axel smacked his own neck. “Dammit. But besides?” He spread his arms wide and did a little spin, his entire body shifting in a jerky motion as his ankle gave out. “These damn shoes. Why couldn’t he have been a little shorter?”

  Zyta let her arms slide off Marek. He didn’t give Axel the job. This person wasn’t even Axel.

  “He is pretty short,” Marek said. “Get with Yolanda after I relieve her from the command center.”

  “What is this?” Zyta asked. “What happened to the real hacker?”

  “He’s with Yolanda. He’s fine—wait, Ivan, I don’t want you in the command center’s line of sight.”

  Zyta followed Marek, who was following Ivan into the physical training room. More operatives were present than a minute ago—probably double—and they were all gathered around something. No, someone.

  “Nice to see you could make it, Zyta,” Law said. He quit the insinuation game before she could join in. “Where were you last night?”

  Zyta’s heart gave one heavy thump, the blood rushing to the extremities of her finger tips and head. It was the type of adrenaline usually reserved for life or death situations. “Tested the mobile medical van’s extension abilities at a lot called Little Creek.”

  He nodded before she finished the sentence. He either doesn’t buy it, or doesn’t give a shit, she thought. I’ll have to remember to thank Pablo for the alibi.

  “Get suited up,” Law said. “We have wounded inbound. Alpha got hit pretty good, and Sadie’s going to need immediate medical attention. Everybody else, you’re to help Victoria and Zyta in any way possible.”

  “Keep the medical center clear,” Victoria announced from the clinic’s glass doorway. “Too many bodies and we won’t be able to treat them in a timely manner.”

  “Too many bodies?” Zyta whispered. Then, louder, “We’re going to need more beds.”

  Victoria cursed. “With Kyle we only have room for one more. I told you we should’ve added an extension, Lawrence.”

  Law gave no response. The lingering tension
dissipated when a member of Delta came rushing down the steps. “They’re here.”

  “Grab two beds from the living quarters and move them into the medical center,” Zyta said to nobody in particular.

  “Where are we supposed to sleep?” a member from Charlie squad asked.

  “Seriously?”

  “Get the beds,” Victoria said, her words hotter than liquid tar.

  Charlie squad rushed into action, cramming two additional twin-sized mattresses into the medical center. After that, Zyta led them to an auxiliary room with enough outlets for all necessary life-saving equipment and set up an additional bed. And then the injured Alpha members were being escorted down the steps. They came in through C3U’s front entrance.

  Hunter, Alpha squad’s computer specialist who had been overseeing the mission, rushed to Ray’s side to help carry Sadie. Blood slowly seeped through the crimson-stained bandage wrapped around her neck. A streak of sleek redness gleamed from her shoulder to knee. Behind them, Mason leaned on Eduardo and hopped on one foot.

  “Get her on the bed,” Zyta said, and stepped aside. I’m not even in my scrubs. But before she could take leave, Ray let go of his squad leader and lunged forward.

  “You set us up you son of a bitch.” He blasted his fist through Ivan’s cheek.

  Marek quickly slid his arm under Ray’s chin and put him in a headlock. “Calm down, that’s not who you think it is.”

  Ivan straightened his posture and the room gasped. His nose had slid upwards to eclipse an eye and his mouth dangled from his neck like peeled wallpaper.

  “You want to hit something, there’s the bag,” Law said, motioning behind Ray.

  Without a word Ray walked off toward the free weights.

  “What a mess,” Marek said, shaking his head at Ivan. “I’ll go check on Yolanda and our hacker.”

  “I’ll get a briefing from Alpha,” Law said.

  No time for scrubs, Zyta decided, and joined Victoria in the medical center. A catheter of fluids had just been inserted in Sadie’s forearm. She had wounds on her neck, face, and lower back. Glass debris that would leave scars but were mostly non-life-threatening. One shard, almost the size of Zyta’s hand, gave reason to worry. It was lodged deep in Sadie’s neck and ran parallel to her jugular vein; the main source of Sadie’s dire blood loss.

  Her skin was pale and clammy. The EKG reported a weak heartrate of 50 BPMs. Blood pressure struggled at 72/46. Victoria considered implementing a respirator, but the guttural liquid that rattled deeply within Sadie’s lungs with each quickening breath cautioned her against it. She’s swallowing blood from the inside of her punctured neck.

  “Grab me A-negative, Zee,” Victoria said, but her colleague had already retrieved a blood bag from cold storage and was attaching it to the hanger. Two members from Charlie squad had arranged the necessary medical tools in the order Zyta had instructed. The only thing left was…the hard part, the part where we either fail or prevail to keep this person with us.

  Dismissing all but one member of Charlie squad (Victoria thanked Ray for volunteering but thought his flaring emotions would only detract from their cause), the two medics got to work. They began with the substantial shard. The rhythmic beep of the EKG spiked as they gently extracted the rectangular, almost sailboat-shaped piece of glass that had nipped both the superior thyroid artery and the middle thyroid vein. Blood pooled at the site, pulsating like a hand pump. Four clamps, a small suturing job, and a chemically cauterized vein later, and Sadie was stabilized. The removal of the many shallower shards would come next.

  “I’m going to splash some water on my face and put on deodorant,” Zyta said. “I stink.”

  Victoria gave a light laugh, then dabbed sweat from her own forehead. “Yeah, go ahead.”

  Outside the medical center, about half of C3U was gathered around Law. Zyta tried to keep her head low and avoid getting reined in, but she couldn’t turn a blind eye to her brother’s words.

  “It jumped from one file and infected all those adjacent, and then jumped again. I never saw a virus act so quickly.”

  “I find it hard to believe that Yolanda couldn’t stop it,” Law said.

  “She tried,” Marek said, also seemingly surprised. “She couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t even touch it. I uh…” He steeled himself. “I dumped all the infected files.”

  “You did what?” Law said.

  “And some,” Marek said. “I had to sever the trail so that it would think it reached the end. Laced Rain is gone, as well as some of Dragon’s Throat.” He kept his eyes on the floor. “You were right, we should’ve given him Night Shade and gotten it over with.”

  “Where is he now?” Zyta asked. The room shuffled, opening up around her.

  “He’s in the command center, unconscious,” Marek said. “I pistol whipped him.”

  “You kept your composure,” Law said.

  “I’ll set him up in the auxiliary room. Sedate and restrain him,” Zyta said. “Give you a chance to try and recover the files.” She addressed Law for this last part.

  He nodded. Then to Marek, “Grab someone to help you carry him. Let me know when the coast is clear.”

  “You got it,” Marek said.

  Zyta was surprised to see Ray volunteer to help with the transfer of Axel’s limp body, and then utterly shocked at Law’s consent. They’re going to kill him. I have one chance at this, she thought, and dipped back into the medical center to grab a few ammonia tablets.

  The auxiliary room remained a cool 63 degrees and the ventilation system offered a steady draft. A light buzz echoed from the many chattering electrical components. Zyta prepared a sedative as Marek zip-tied Axel’s ankles together. “Is that really necessary?” she asked.

  “Don’t underestimate this guy.” Marek threaded a zip-tie through the lock-out hole of an electrical disconnect and secured it around Axel’s wrist. “He’s dangerous, maybe even more so than whoever sliced up Sadie.”

  Zyta prepared the catheter. “I won’t. Good luck with the files. I hope Law can restore them.”

  Marek didn’t have to say he doubted it.

  “Is she going to pull through?” Ray asked.

  It took Zyta a minute to understand what he meant, and she felt horrible about it. “Yes. She had two nicked vessels, but we sutured them. And Mason has a fracture along his Tibia and will need a cast, but he should recover in due time.”

  Ray nodded solemnly, his puffy eyes fixated on Axel as if he were looking at a corpse. “Thanks, Zyta,” he said, and gave her a hug. It was so sudden, so unsuspected that Zyta tensed. Then she deflated, the roller-coaster of stressors over the past several hours shattering and falling into oblivion. “They’ll pay,” he said, and then Marek and Ray were gone.

  Zyta touched the ammonia tablets in her lab jacket. Her thoughts paced from Umar, to C3U, to the life up for expiration in front of her and the lives he had endangered. What would happen if she left and never came back? Would Sadie still be alive? Yes, Victoria had pulled off more difficult surgeries without her. But what about Axel? Would his brains be scrambled by now, heated and then blended by one of Charlie’s concoctions? Should Zyta care if they were? And finally, Umar. Her place of solace and peace.

  Zyta removed the ammonia tablet. He’s hiding something, and this is my ticket out of here.

  “Thanks, Zyta.” Her skin prickled at the memory of Ray’s words. Could C3U survive without her? Her without it? She lowered the tablet back into her pocket. But didn’t let go of it.

  Law decided to debrief Alpha squad in the medical center, since half of them were reserved to its location. Kyle had been in a coma for a couple of days now, Sadie would undoubtedly be bed ridden post-surgery, and Mason occupied the third “medical bed,” where he awaited treatment for his chewed-up leg. Add Alpha team’s other two operatives, Ray and Hunter, and they could conduct a meaningful conversation on exactly what the hell went wrong leading up to their demise.

  “No,” was Victoria’s blatant a
nswer. When Law only stared at her in silence, urging her to reconsider, she offered an undeniable reason. “It has long been established that the well-being of C3U operatives does not overlap with the planning or executing of C3U missions. And that includes post-mission debrief.”

  “Victoria, we need intel so that we can plan appropriate counterstrike measures.”

  “Not in my medical center,” she said. “Mason needs surgery. He’s been putting it off without complaint, but that was before Sadie was stabilized. I’m not going to have him put it off any longer for the sake of answering a few questions that Ray can just as readily provide.”

  “Fine, send Ray and Hunter to the command center.” Victoria stared at him in silence. Was she waiting for Law to reconsider, or was she really that surprised by his command? He could still override her judgement, hold the debrief in the medical center and get the whole story to its most accurate detail. But then how could he expect C3U to obey the rules he indoctrinated, if he didn’t obey them himself?

  “I understand that you’re angry, that you want justice.”

  Law sliced the air. “Victoria, save it. Get our operatives back on their feet and back in the fight.”

  She flashed a fierce smile before returning to the medical center. Good, Law thought. She wasn’t surprised, just wanted me to reconsider. He liked that about her, her resilience against being easily rattled. Victoria had always been direct, composed, and focused, no matter the circumstance. It was for these reasons Law kept her around.

  So, he didn’t get the entire squad, but two out of five was better than none. And they were good boys. Ray was first spotted in a news article that had featured his Engine Company and their miraculous recovery of seven victims that had fallen unconscious to a carbon monoxide leak. The police were initially called by a woman who thought the dry-cleaners was being robbed, the people inside lying down in an act of submission. The cops responded, detected the monoxide, and called the fire fighters. Ray was the first in—by force of axe—and the last out. A good lad with stacked courage and a habit of breaking down doors.