Specter Protocol

by Eddie R. Hicks

  “Oh,” Patterson groaned while facing the remains of his drink. “What the fuck…”

  Estrella made an exaggerated gasping sound, her hands flailing. “Shit! I’m so, so, so sorry about that!”

  “It’s okay,” Patterson said to her, still wincing at the loss of his beverage. “There are a lot of people here, not much movement space.”

  “Tell me about it.” A fake smile accompanied her words. “Hey, let me get you another drink.”

  She spun pursuing the small navi-point floating above the drugged drink. Nobody had taken it off the butler’s tray, yet. There was one silk gloved hand from a woman reaching for it. Her face became drenched with sweat. Estrella ran, grasping for it too. Her cybernetic reach was faster than the woman’s and she gained the drink, plus one other for herself.

  Back with the duo, she handed Patterson the glass, double-checking to ensure it was the right one.

  It was.

  “Here you go,” she said with a flirty smile.

  “Thanks.” Patterson accepted the wine glass, gave it a swirl and sniff.

  She grimaced. Did he smell that something was off? It felt like six years had passed as she stood watching, hoping he’d put the drugged beverage into his body. She chugged her drink in one gulp. The anxiety was too much.

  Patterson gave his drink a sip, she exhaled softly, and grinned as the satisfying feeling of a plan coming together tickled her brain. Patterson gave a charming smile back, likely thinking it was a flirting attempt. Estrella felt uncomfortable.

  “Do I know you?” Patterson asked her.

  “Ms. Rodriguez,” Ashford drawled in an unimpressed tone of voice. “I was unaware you received an invitation…”

  “Victor Ashford,” Estrella said to him as a butler walked past. She deposited her empty wine glass on the tray. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Didn’t think you’d be here.”

  “He arrived a few minutes ago with his date,” Patterson said.

  Ashford grimaced. It was the only thing she could read about him with his stylish shades covering his eyes as his gelled and slicked back hair shined from the ballroom’s light.

  “Facial scans,” Ashford said.

  “What?” Estrella asked.

  “You know who I am Ms. Rodriguez, yet we have never met until now.” A half grin moved his lips. “How often I forget you RWs have that software installed and the optical scanners in your eyes.”

  “There’s no need to introduce who you are,” Estrella said. “I already know you are. I know the names of everyone here, just by studying their face.”

  Patterson laughed, his body showing signs of loosening up. The drug was working.

  “So, you know who I am then?” Patterson asked.

  Estrella turned away from Ashford looking up at Patterson with a fake flirty smile. “I do.”

  “Tell me, what does my profile say about me?”

  “Single, shy’s away from women your age or older,” she said, all of it made up on the spot. Patterson’s gaze lowered, his eyes fixated on Estrella’s chest, namely the deep V-neck of the dress and half the shape of her curves exposed. She had to take advantage. Truth serum worked best when the target really liked you.

  Patterson flushed, he really liked her.

  Ashford cleared his throat, drawing attention back to him. “As I was saying, Mr. Patterson—”

  “Ah yes,” Patterson’s aimless hands waved him off, his eyes still wide open at Estrella’s appearance. “It’s interesting, but…” His legs got shaky.

  “Lady M asked Ms. Rodriguez to assist in an investigation into the accusations that members of our corporation had been operating in secret without her permission.”

  That pulled Patterson’s face away. “Oh.”

  “But don’t let that intimidate you,” Estrella said. “M made it clear I’m also her doll. I’m here dressed up because she requested it and will dress down if necessary.”

  Patterson’s eyebrows rose while he gave Estrella a top to bottom gawk. “Dress down you say?” There was intrigue in his voice slowly getting slurred from the drug.

  “Of course.” Hands behind her back. “I’m corporate property; it’s my obligation to do as requested.” Oh my fucking god, please kill me!

  Unable to comply. We cannot self-terminate.

  Geoffrey…

  Sorry, were you thinking to yourself again?

  Patterson’s composure disintegrated at an alarming rate. His body swayed, his legs shook and struggled to keep him standing. His index finger tried and failed six times to point at Estrella as he rambled on about his life, his family, and things he did as a boy. Everything was coming together. Estrella felt like a witch from old stories using magical concoctions to get results. Only, what she did wasn’t magic, it was science. It just looked like it.

  And it had Ashford twisting his lips with disapproval. “Mr. Patterson…”

  “I’m good, Victor,” Patterson said, tipsy hands waved the empty wine glass before his face. “This was like my fifth drink; guess I’m getting too old for this.”

  “Hey, why don’t you take a seat?” Estrella tugged on Patterson’s arm, gently as to not tear it off, though Geoffrey would prevent that.

  “With you?” Patterson laughed. “Yeah, sure!”

  She held Patterson’s limp body and guided him to a large and silver glittering couch in the back beside a bay window peering out into Lady M’s backyard. Muffled laughter came from the window, partygoers lounged about, outside near the patio and swimming pool with lit cigarettes or cigars in their mouths—

  “Rodriguez.”

  Lady M’s projection appeared behind from a scattering of pixels taking shape as her, now dressed differently in a stunning gold-threaded Victorian-era party dress. It matched with the design theme of her mansion, and her was hair styled and curled to match that era too. The sudden change of appearance had Estrella wondering if perhaps, Lady M was just a holographic AI construct as the rumors stated. It’d be easy to swap outfits if that were the case, just select it from a menu.

  Lady M gestured her head. “Come stand with me, Rodriguez. Patterson is a big boy; he can handle himself.”

  Irritation hit, then came worry. This was Estrella’s chance, she had Patterson right where she needed, resting comfortably, and ready to tell her anything she wanted while he believed she’d give him a private show behind closed doors as a reward. And now Lady M had to ruin it.

  Ashford joined them, nodding to Patterson. “I’ll take care of Mr. Patterson, Ms. Rodriguez.” Ashford faced her. She faced him back wondering what kind of eye glare he had hidden beyond the shades. “Thank you for your interest in him, I’m sure he’ll be fine in a moment…”

  And Lady M whisked away with Estrella walking beside her. Patterson’s hand reached for her as she reluctantly left, his slurred voice begging for her to sit with him.

  Alert, Estrella, Ray has sent you a text message.

  He’ll have to wait… got some complications.

  He is here.

  The fuck do you mean he’s here?

  Ray is at the party and he’s requesting your assistance near the backyard. The message is marked urgent.

  Nineteen

  Ray

  The night sky darkened the city again just like the other night when Ray made the long subway journey out of the IW district, and entered the mouth of the prestigious district one. Lady M’s party was in progress by the time he started it up the foothills, as indicated by the parking lot full of expensive self-driving cars, while invited guests got checked in by the armed security staff.

  Had Ray been driving, he would have arrived earlier, and gotten a look at the first arrivals. The downside of having to rely on the subways of Los Angeles, but it carried fewer risks than driving. All it took was a curious cop to pull Ray over and recognize him, and he’d be done. On the buses and subway, nobody knew who the man wearing the baseball cap and tinted smart glasses was.

  Estrella strode past him as he hung
at the side of the road close to M’s estate, her red bike was parked half a block away. She gave him a nod; he gave one back, then glanced aside. Once Estrella moved out of sight, he stuffed hands in his pockets, and he retraced his steps. He stood from afar surveying the mansion with his smart glasses that zoomed in on the patrons arriving in their luxurious cars.

  Everything looked fine, Estrella used her nanites to change her appearance then vanished beyond the front doors. What she did next he didn’t know, nor did she update him as time went on.

  Then came the curveball.

  A stunning woman approached wearing a glamorous pearl-colored, sequined, long-sleeved dress. Her long white hair was styled in a way that made few people question why she was there. Beside her was Ashford, like she was his date, and it was the image of the two, walking side-by-side, which sent Ray back in time to last month when Ashford’s men brought him to the Yoshida towers.

  The woman was Portia Blanchard. And nobody questioned what she was doing there. Of course not, the one percent didn’t give a fuck about missing witches. They likely assumed she was human, and Ashford holding her lower back as they entered probably helped the image. Or was it mind control? Ray disliked the situation more.

  And then Estrella, Ashford, and Portia were gone. Ray had to get inside. Portia was an avatar. Arianna was an avatar. Ashford brought Portia here for a reason, and he hoped that reason was connected to Arianna’s disappearance.

  Ray looked about while calculating his next move. The main entrance would not cut it, and he knew the front and backyard were only accessible from the inside. Ray approached the security building, a small two-story building attached to the estate’s property where Lady M’s personal guards checked in and out for their work shifts. This was his only way in as he recalled from the recon he did the other day.

  Half of Ray’s attention focused on the rooftop snipers looking for troublemakers like him. They turned away, continuing their patrol. Ray tiptoed forward. He thumbed his app and told his botnet to give him access to the surveillance cameras. They went on a loop next, a temporary one.

  The entrance was locked and not labeled as a vulnerable target on his glasses. He’d need the password. The computer console to the right was a different story. Using his phone, Ray powered up his botnet again and brute-forced his way into the console, forcing it to display the password on his phone’s screen. His gloved hands entered it on the wall-mounted keypad beside the door, and a click sounded. He pulled on the door’s handle, it moved. Ray slipped in like a ninja.

  Footsteps that weren’t his echoed ahead in the halls he lurked through. Security patrols, most likely wielding their standard-issue submachine guns. Ray slithered into a small and empty closet and waited for them to pass. Their searching flashlights caused a brief sense of anxiety while he watched from the ajar door. Nothing could stop them from going through the closet if they chose to. The echoing steps of the security patrols dimmed and vanished from his hearing. Ray brought up a map of the security building, forcing it to remain on his glass’s lenses. He left, creeping stealthily, and followed the map.

  His infiltration stopped as he neared glass sliding electronic doors. If it wasn’t guarded by two security guards standing and holding SMGs, Ray would have already gone through. He retreated into the halls, searching for something that’d get them moving, and not to him. He peered through a large glass window, there was a computer room on the other side with tall servers along the walls, massive wires plugged into them, and a big console with a lone tech operating it.

  Ray reached into his backpack, his bag of tricks, and pulled out his tablet pad. He created a fake text message, addressing it to the tech in the room, stating his bank account got hacked. It wasn’t hard to figure out his bank and account number via his facial scanned profile. Ray forwarded the spurious text message to the tech worker’s phone, and then retreated and away from the door.

  The tech sprinted out of the room, phone to his face, cursing repeatedly about the status of his hacked bank account that hadn’t been hacked. Before the sliding doors shut, Ray slipped in. Inside the room, Ray brute-forced his way into the main console, shutting off all cooling to the computers along the walls. Alarms blared, but that was okay.

  He left and remained hiding in the corner of the halls as the computer towers inside began to overheat and ignite into flames. Black smoke smelling like melted metal and plastic filled the room. The two guards that had been idling near the glass sliding doors ran forward searching for the source of the fires.

  There was nothing stopping Ray as he snuck in.

  Ray was alone now in the central security station, its computers and monitors displaying camera footage to the estate. He didn’t even need to hack into the computers, the guard that left his post to help put out the fires didn’t logout. He had admin privileges too. Ray checked the monitors watching the party, he saw no signs of Portia. No sign of Estrella either. Did Portia get to her?

  A man standing with Ashford hooked his attention, Ray zoomed in on him. It was Patterson, he observed as the two spoke. Ray examined the doors he slipped through. There were still guards at large that could storm in any second. He had until they contained the fire to do this.

  A break in Ashford’s and Patterson’s talk developed, and he saw Patterson reach inside his pocket, taking out a small tablet. Patterson placed his thumb on the screen, waited, and then began sifting through the pad’s contents. Patterson secured the pad with biometrics, the good shit all Yoshida executives had installed on their pads. It wasn’t something that could be hacked with Ray’s apps.

  He made a face at the monitor. Estrella didn’t know of the pad, even if she did, she wouldn’t gain access to it, not hastily at least. Only Patterson’s thumb would do it. And Ray had a feeling there was something on that pad Obsidian would be interested in, being the primary reason Ray insisted on coming to the party.

  Muffled chatter in the halls broke his concentration. Concerned security staff bickering about the sudden small fire breaking out. Ray couldn’t remain in the monitor room longer. He left while half his mind wondered what became of Portia and where Estrella ran off too. The other half wondered when he’d find time to shoot Estrella a quick text about what he discovered. That text would have to wait, Ray needed to not be caught and linked with the fire.

  The next room over was a locker room, full of three dozen electronically powered lockers for Lady M’s security team. The lockers’ operation pads had vulnerable icons hovering above when Ray looked at them with his glasses. The security encryption was moderate.

  It took his botnet five minutes to crack the code on one locker. When it was done, he put his phone away, and reached inside. He pulled out the locker’s contents, a uniform, armored vest, and an SMG. Ray dressed as a security guard and stood in front of the mirror. He barely recognized the man grinning in the reflection and hoped nobody would question why he had a backpack on.

  He was moving out of the security building now, stepping on the fine green grass of the estate’s yard, the hairs on the back of his head rising at the sight of the rooftop snipers. Nobody put a bullet through his skull, not even when he rappelled down to the lower half of the estate, away from the arriving guests and patrolling guards, then entered the backyard.

  Few people took notice of his appearance as they chatted, drank, and smoked near the pool. He was just a patrol making his rounds… wearing a backpack, a backpack carrying his laptop and tablet, among other goodies. Ray felt safer, so he pulled out his phone as he approached the mansion’s exterior, typing a message to Estrella. She needed to know about Patterson’s pad and Portia’s sudden arrival.

  Estrella didn’t reply. He sighed—

  His glasses lit up with notifications. Ashford’s phone was near, and it powered on to make a call. Ray reached for his phone, and accessed his sniffer app, then put it to his ears when it picked up the signals Ashford’s phone was sending and receiving. He listened in.

  “Patterson’s been
compromised.”

  “Aren’t you at the party?” said the man Ashford spoke with who sounded a lot like Hawk.

  Can’t be Hawk, he’s dead. A brother maybe?

  “Yes, and someone here’s targeted him, possibly me as well, and Ms. Blanchard. I think it’s Ms. Rodriguez. I want you to do something about it.”

  “We’re coming in now, don’t worry, homes. Blanchard… that’s that avatar, right? You brought her along?”

  “I did. I’m a very paranoid person.”

  No further words were spoken. Ray’s sniffer app reported the call ended. His jittery hands typed a new text message to Estrella, and when she didn’t reply to that, he went running to the nearest window and looked at the suited men and women in the ballroom, hoping to spot Estrella before Ashford’s backup did and linked up with Portia Blanchard.

  Twenty

  Estrella

  Like a stubborn child unwilling to go to school, Lady M ordered Estrella to stand with her before five men, and three women, all elegantly dressed for the party, wineglasses in hand.

  Lady M spoke, grabbing their attention as she pointed at Estrella. “Let me introduce you to Estrella Rodriguez, a promising and young real witch unit who volunteered to help clean up the corrupted components of our corporation and city.”

  M had put Estrella on display like the doll she was to her. To her delight, there was no applause, only bewildered faces gleaming at Estrella. One woman from the group spoke up. “Didn’t the Alliance Star say she was a malfunctioning unit?”

  “A misunderstanding,” Lady M said. “Rodriguez was forced to take an aggressive stance due to the incompetence of the LAPD, and the fact they were being misled by Piper Taylor. A spy from the Federation, and an imaginary witch fitted with cyberware.”