by James Hunt
Rick took his feet off the desk and leaned forward in his chair, keeping the phone close and his body tucked tight within himself. “We’ll need to draft something immediately. I don’t need the news catching wind of this, do you understand me?”
“Yes, of course, sir. We’ll be sending something over for your approval within the hour.”
Rick hung up the phone without another word, his action the exclamation point needed to end the conversation. He picked up his personal mobile and dialed a number. It only rang once before someone answered. “Mr. Secretary, this is Rick Demps. We may have a problem on our hands.”
7
The conference room attached to Mack’s office had never had so many people in it before. Almost all the support agents had been pulled off their current assignments to work on this, and the number of field agents in such close proximity to each other was causing the room to overinflate with ego.
Bryce took the lead in the meeting once Mack had brought everyone up to speed, while Sarah did her best to distract him with faces, a few obscene hand gestures, and inappropriate hand puppeteering. Despite her best effort, she didn’t deter him.
“As Mack stated, the main connection among all three cases seems to be New Frontier Real Estate. The bank accounts I was able to crack and trace were child’s play compared to the level of security from the data around the G7 hack,” Bryce said. “However, the other support agents and I have been concentrating our efforts on cracking the code, and this is what we’ve been able to come up with so far.” The projection screen flickered to show a very large list of names. “This is the combined list of every person in both the private and public sectors that worked on the Global Power Project. Now, as you know, we believe New Frontier Real Estate is nothing more than a shell company for a much larger organization, and one of the first things we attempted to do was cross-reference any and all of these names against the New Frontier employee database. But there weren’t any matches. However, we did find a trend of six names who owned shares in New Frontier, and it turns out those same six people all worked for the same investment firm by the name of Tuck Investments.”
“And a roar of shock and awe ripples through the crowd!” Sarah said, throwing her head back and jutting her arms up into the air with the triumph of victory. But the room remained quiet. “Oh, c’mon! Tuck Investments? They make Halliburton look like Aunt May’s groceries.”
“Sarah’s right,” Bryce said, diverting the attention of the room back to him. “They are a conglomerate with their hands in just about everything.”
Vince Moores, admittedly the second-best field agent in the room (and only recognized as such because Sarah gave the endorsement, to which Mack responded that it wasn’t her call who was second best and that the stats of missions spoke for themselves), raised his hand, which almost touched the ceiling. She always marveled at how long his limbs were. It was almost as if he was a highly advanced orangutan. The red hair didn’t help his case in the analogy.
“What about the fact that we intercepted an email correspondence between the CEO and president of Tuck Investments to the Secretary of Defense stating that the security measures they helped fund failed?”
“Misdirection,” Mack said.
“You really think they’d risk facing the wrath of the United States government or an injunction by the courts just for the chance at trying to steal back something they’ve already invested money in?” Vince replied.
“The applications to Global Power aren’t just limited to decreasing the amount of wasted energy on the power grids. The software has the ability to actually manipulate circuitry without ever being plugged into the network. Anything that has a microprocessor can be hacked by this software at any time,” Bryce said.
“Just like the Death Star,” Sarah said, again silencing the room.
“No, Sarah, that’s not what the Death Star does,” Bryce said.
“Bryce wears underwear with bunnies on them,” Sarah said, turning the attention back to Bryce, who was flushed red.
“All right, enough!” Mack said. But before any other comments could be made or questions asked, the power in the building went out, and the conference room was cast into darkness, albeit only for a few seconds before the back-up generators came online.
“That’s got to be some type of foreshadowing,” Sarah said. She was the first person out of the conference room and over to the armory, followed quickly by the rest of the agents. Vince joined her after she already had her pistols loaded. “Always the bridesmaid and never the bride, huh, Vinny?”
“You know that while you were gone, I was top dog, right? You don’t own the rights to being number one.”
“Aww, that’s exactly what someone who’s number two would say.” On her way past him, she grabbed one of the Tasers and shocked his leg on her way out. “Gotta be faster than that, Vinny.” The floor was already in a state of frenzied chaos as the support agents frantically gathered any information on what had happened.
“Power’s out in the whole city,” Johnny said.
“London, Moscow, Paris, Rome, New York, and DC have all gone dark as well,” Bryce said.
Sarah holstered her pistols and pressed her palms flat against the top of Bryce’s desk as she watched him do his magic. “I’m sorry about the underwear thing. I was oh for two and had to divert the attention off of me somehow. It was a low blow.”
“It’s all right,” Bryce said.
“And you should really think about updating your wardrobe. When was the last time you got laid? And please tell me you do not wear those when you go out with a woman, and—wait. What are you doing?”
“When we were trying to dismantle the Global Power software to figure out what it does, I came across a piece of code I’d seen before. It was the algorithm from the bank accounts. Since I know a piece of the puzzle, I can use it to help me locate where the signal’s being broadcast.”
“Bryce, you big, beautiful, wascally wabbit!”
The GPS map on Bryce’s screen homed in on the eastern United States. Then it homed into the northeast, then the state of New York, then New York City, and finally nestled on a building in Lower Manhattan. “What’s that building?” Sarah asked.
Bryce paused before answering. “Tuck Investments headquarters.”
From the air, she’d never seen New York so dark. The City That Never Sleeps was about to be put to bed early, and from the shouts and screams she heard below, it didn’t look like the city’s inhabitants were too happy about it.
The grass in Central Park flattened under the chopper-generated wind as the pilot touched down. Sarah jumped out and kept her head low and sprinted across the field, ignoring the stares and gasps that greeted her entrance.
“Power is out to the entire city, along with any public transportation that required being on the grid,” Bryce said.
“Damn, and I always wanted to take the subway.”
“The police scanners are going wild. Everyone and their mother is calling in to nine-one-one, and the lines are jammed. It’s a nuthouse in there, Sarah.”
“What about the attacks? Anybody taking credit?”
“Five of the big six terrorist organizations are stepping forward, and the CIA already has most of them apprehended in Chicago and New York, but reports of attacks are still coming in.”
“Same things in the other cities?”
“Yeah, Paris and London were hit the hardest so far.”
The cover of the trees only darkened the fading light that had fallen over the city. The faces of the people she ran past wore a mixture of fear and anger—fear of what was happening, anger at the fact that they weren’t able to do anything about it. “Just give me a clear path to the building, and make sure you keep the chopper close in case I need a quick exit.”
“Copy that.”
The horns and screams grew louder the farther Sarah moved from the park, and by the time she made it onto the pavement of the concrete jungle, what little light there wa
s left in the sky was replaced by darkness. It was an impossible black that surrounded them, only interrupted by the glow of headlights from the cars stuck in gridlock and the hundreds of thousands of cell phone lights that lit the walkways, rivaling the stars in the night sky above.
“Keep heading north,” Bryce said.
The farther she moved from the park, the larger the buildings loomed. Steam rose from the sewers and only added to the intense heat that plagued the rest of the city. Hordes of people were still piling out of the subway entrances, adding to the congestion that was plaguing the entire city. The echo of explosions rocked the air around them, and everyone on the street ducked in a unified fear, with the exception of Sarah.
“The bridges just went out,” Bryce said.
Sarah picked up her pace and maneuvered around the still-ducking people, who were now beginning to scramble in a blind panic. “Which ones?”
“All of them,” Bryce answered.
It didn’t take long for the sea of people to churn into the storm of riptides as everyone scrambled to the nearest solid structure for cover. Nobody knew where they were going or what they would do when they got there; they simply reacted to an animal instinct that propelled them to survive, no matter the cost to the people around them.
Elbows, knees, fists, and feet smacked against Sarah’s body as she fought against the primal frenzy trying to consume her. The shatter of glass penetrated the screams around her. She continued her push forward, passing one of the subway stations, where a few NYPD officers were attempting to make their way down the steps.
Store windows were being smashed, and the looters piling in stuffed their hands and pockets with whatever was left inside. The speed with which the hordes had chosen to move had increased dramatically, trampling anyone too slow to keep up or too stubborn to get out of their way. But with everything happening around her, Sarah focused on only one thing: getting to the tower just a few blocks down.
“The signal’s still strong,” Bryce said. “It’s coming from the top floor.”
The Tuck Investments building wasn’t immune to the looting and chaos that surrounded it. The large foyer that made up the front of the building was littered with shattered glass, trash, and a few bodies that had bled out, staining the polished marble floor with blood. The lobby inside held a few people hiding out, seeking shelter from the storm raging outside. On either side of the front desk were rows of elevators that Sarah eyed longingly. “Any chance those bad boys work?”
“No, the power is limited to the top three floors,” Bryce said.
“You know, I’m beginning to notice that you only bring me bad news.” Sarah pushed open the door to the stairs and looked up the maze of steps she’d have to climb. “How many floors is this place again?”
“Eighty-three,” Bryce said. “But think of the cardio you’ll get.”
Sarah started the long journey upward and shook her head. “God, it’s even worse when you try and put a silver lining on it.”
With the heavy breathing that accompanied reaching the seventy-fourth floor, Sarah heard the faint echo of voices coming from above her. She paused, slowing her breath, and focused on listening for it again, but it didn’t come. She eased her way over the long, open space of the railing to get a look above, and she could see the black stock of a rifle slung over the shoulder of somebody no doubt trained and hired to protect whoever had the laptop on the top floor.
Sarah’s hands instinctively went for the pistols inside the cover of her jacket but stopped, and instead they found their way to the knife handle at her belt loop. She unsheathed the blade and kept to the walled edge of the stairs for the rest of her ascent. She moved quietly, keeping on the balls of her feet, looking up and listening for any other movements from the guards above. By the eightieth floor, she could hear their conversation loud and clear.
“I can’t imagine what’s happening down there,” the first guard said. “I’m just glad I don’t have any family living here.”
“You really think it’s that bad? I mean, c’mon, it’s not like nothing works. The power’s just out. The city’s seen worse,” the second guard said.
“You kidding me? With them taking out the bridges? I’m telling you, man, you take away a person’s choice to leave, and they go nuts. Listen, I gotta piss. I’ll be back in a second.”
“All right.”
The slam of the door echoed through the stairwell, and Sarah used the lingering sound to hurry up to the eighty-second floor until she stood under the same heavy concrete slab where the lone guard waited for his partner to return. The moment Sarah stepped forward from under her current cover, the guard would have a direct line of sight, giving up what surprise she had to work with.
The guard shifted his boots uneasily. Sarah closed her eyes, listening to the light thumps against the concrete above her. He turned slowly. A few more thumps signaled another quarter turn. A few more thumps, and Sarah opened her eyes and silently dashed, momentarily revealing herself while the guard’s back was turned, and safely landed on the other side of the stairwell, where she took cover under the overhang of the opposite ledged corner.
The door opened again as the man’s partner returned. “Damn, that felt good.” Before the two of them could finish laughing, Sarah sprinted up the remaining steps, catching both men off guard, and shoved the second guard into the first, knocking both off kilter.
The first guard brought the tip of his rifle up, but Sarah caught the top of it with the sole of her boot, knocking it to the ground. The second guard reached for his pistol, and Sarah slashed the knife across his throat, sending him to the floor as he tried to keep the precious fluid in his body.
Sarah brought the tip of the knife back to the first guard and aimed for the side of his neck but was blocked by his forearm and met with a blow to her stomach, which shook the blade loose. She quickly rebounded and fluidly brought the side of her foot into the guard’s ribcage and followed it up with two quick jabs to the face, breaking the guard’s nose and triggering a gush of blood that flooded down his mouth and chin.
The guard blocked a left hook from Sarah and countered with an uppercut that sent her backward and to the floor. With Sarah on her back, the guard swung his rifle toward her, poised to squeeze the trigger. Sarah looked to her right and saw the blade on the ground. She grabbed it and flung it at the guard’s throat, which sent a brilliant spray of crimson through the air as he dropped the rifle and collapsed to his knees. Sarah pushed herself off the floor, picked up one of the assault rifles, and checked the small sliver of window in the door that allowed her to see inside the rest of the floor.
The fluorescent lights were on, but she couldn’t see any more men in the hallway. She felt something grip her ankle, and she looked down at the man bleeding out on the ground. She kicked his clawing hand away. “Your neediness is why this could have never worked out.”
Inside, a large floor filled with a vast sea of cubicles spread out before her. She kept low, using the makeshift walls as cover, weaving in and out of the empty desks. Larger offices surrounded the perimeter, but everything was empty. She stopped at the end of the row of desks, just before the room opened up into another hallway. When she poked her head around the corner, she could see another cluster of guards in front of a large office door, where a woman sat at a desk, going about her work as if they weren’t even there.
“The signal’s coming from that office,” Bryce said.
One of the guards pulled out his radio. “Mark 1, radio check.” Sarah ducked behind the wall and ejected the rifle’s magazine to count the number of rounds. The guard radioed again. “Mark 1, radio check.” Again, nothing but silence as Sarah shoved the fully loaded, thirty-round magazine back into place. “You two, go and check it out.”
Footsteps thumped down the hallway, and Sarah aimed the gun into the wall across from her. The steps grew louder as the gear around their chests and waists clunked from their heavy-booted footfalls. She placed her finger on the t
rigger, listening to the sounds grow closer, closer, closer, and the moment the two crossed her path, she put a bullet into each of their heads.
The adjacent wall was redecorated with dripping bits of brain, blood, and bones as the guards collapsed to the ground, and their comrades immediately fired blindly into the empty hallway until their commander ordered them to stop. The hallway between Sarah’s location and the front doors of the office the signal was coming from was at least seventy feet long and six feet wide, with five guards still positioned at the other end. She could take out three from this distance, but not five, not in that narrow a kill box.
“Bryce, I need another way in,” Sarah said.
“Working on it.”
The ceiling above her was solid concrete, and the air vents were too narrow for her to squeeze through. The shouts at the end of the hall were getting more restless and then suddenly went quiet. Sarah cocked her head to the side when two thuds hit the floor of the hallway next to her and two grenades rolled past. “Bryce, another way in now would be nice.” Sarah sprinted down the row of offices and made it twenty feet before the grenades went off, sending a blast wave that knocked her off her feet and destroyed the windows as well as the corner office she was hiding behind.
Sarah lay on her stomach against the hard carpet and instinctively reached for the rifle that had been flung from her hand. She coughed and hacked from the smoke and dust flitting through the air. She stumbled on her hands and knees, knowing that the guards at the end of the hallway would make a full press toward her now. And just as she pointed the rifle at the mangled corner where she had squatted just seconds earlier, the first guard came sprinting from the corner. She fired, missing her target and sending two rounds into the wall. She rolled to her left behind the cover of cubicles just as more gunfire peppered the very carpet she’d occupied. The room felt like it was spinning, and Sarah shook her head to get her bearings. The ringing slowly subsided. “What?”
