Omega

by Jan Domagala

  “I understand General, and as always you have my trust and the support of this Office.”

  “Thank you, sir, I appreciate it.”

  “I also trust that because Captain Hawk is here you wish him to continue as the lead in this investigation.”

  “I do, sir.”

  “I agree also, it would be a waste to remove him to other duties in favour of someone else when he is so familiar with the details of this case. Is there anything else gentlemen?”

  “No, sir, not at this time.”

  “Then I’ll let you get back to it as I know you are extremely busy men.”

  “Thank you, sir, as are you,” Sinclair said as he and Hawk wearily got to their feet to leave the room.

  “Good luck gentlemen and keep me informed, and get some sleep,” Takagi said as they turned to leave the room.

  As they left the White House in the armoured ground car, a Grand Voyager 600s manufactured by MaxCorp, Hawk relaxed into the lush leather upholstery and sighed, “You know, a shower and eight hours uninterrupted sleep sounds just about right,” he said as he rubbed his tired eyes.

  Sinclair looked at him and said, “I agree. Make sure you’re well rested Matt, because we’re meeting Able Rand at ten tomorrow morning.”

  Glancing at the chronometer on the dash in front of him he noticed the time, twenty-three hundred, and he said, “Doesn’t that guy ever sleep?” meaning the President.

  “Oh, about the same as us, I guess,” Sinclair said.

  “You mean never while on duty, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  Matt leant back on the headrest and said, “Okay, nudge me when we’re at my hotel,” then he closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.

  Sinclair listened to Hawk’s breathing slowing as he sank into a slumber and wondered how he could do that, fall asleep at the drop of a hat wherever he was. It was an ability many agents cultivated over time but one he had never been able to grasp. Instead he sat back and looked through the side window watching the lights of the city pass by, pondering at what lay ahead and hoping the steps he was about to put into place would help prevent another tragedy taking place.

  Only time would tell.

  28

  The Grand Voyager 600s was at Hawk’s hotel by nine the following morning. He had managed to get some sleep after a hot shower to wash away the grime and blood accumulated during his recent efforts against Jonas Wilde’s OMEGA.

  Having been awake for at least an hour he had time to shower, get dressed and have a breakfast of a bacon and mushroom omelette with coffee delivered to his room. Dressed in combat trousers, a casual shirt and his favourite leather jacket he left the hotel. As per regulations he wore a soft leather holster beneath his left armpit that held his Sig P996, although he didn’t think he’d need to use it this time. As he got into the rear seating section he saw General Sinclair looking relaxed in a dark blue pin stripe suit.

  “Good morning Matt, hope you slept well,” the General said as Hawk sat next to him.

  “Yes, thanks sir, and you? You look rested,” Hawk replied.

  “I managed to drop off thanks, now down to work,” Sinclair said, wasting no time. “According to our file, RandCorp is run by Able Rand and has been for the last thirty-five years. He took over from his father when he deemed young Able ready to take the reins. It’s been passed down from generation to generation for the past six hundred years. His son and daughter, Joshua and Jessica, are his chief officers and help him run the business.

  “It really is a family concern. RandCorp is as big as MaxCorp and just as powerful. They already supply us with atmosphere processing plants for terraforming, most of the ships of the Independent Space Agency, the Colonial Line of cruise ships and they build some of our cruisers such as the Legend. Their weapons are of the best and only lost out on the contract to supply Col Sec to MaxCorp due to the latter offering the lower bid, something that Able Rand himself complained about. He claimed that somehow, someone at MaxCorp got wind of Rand’s bid and undercut it by one per cent.”

  “I remember hearing about that, it caused quite a stir,” opined Hawk.

  “Yes, nothing was ever proved either way but even to this day it’s rumoured that Able holds a grudge.”

  “Has that got any bearing on why you want to offer him this deal?”

  “It will give him the chance to prove something he’s maintained to this day, that his weapons systems are superior to those supplied by MaxCorp and this time the price is not an issue. If they’re as good as he says and he can supply the numbers we need in the given time frame, the deal is his.”

  “Well, seeing as OMEGA has the same systems as us and was using them to kick our asses, a change might give us the edge we need.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Here’s the data file, upload it to your NI and get to know the corporation and the players involved. I want you fully briefed by the time we enter Rand’s office,” Sinclair said as he passed him a palm pad with the data file encoded within. Using his NI Hawk connected with the small device and uploaded the data file directly to his NI where it would be stored and where he could access it at will, similar to a memory.

  The rest of the journey was completed in silence.

  When they reached their destination the Grand Voyager 600s pulled up outside the towering edifice that was RandCorp. The two passengers got out while their vehicle was directed to a parking area in the basement of the building where it could wait until summoned.

  Sinclair and Hawk walked through the front entrance where they were scanned and their identities verified. Only because they were officers of Col Sec were they allowed to keep their weapons.

  Once this process was completed they were escorted to the penthouse where Able Rand’s office was situated and their meeting would take place.

  The decor in the building was tasteful and conducive to a good working environment with few distractions, but when they reached the penthouse it was obvious more money had been spent on a few of the finer little luxuries that would make the working day just a little more comfortable for the higher echelon.

  Able Rand greeted them in his private office and as they entered he got to his feet and came around from behind the large mahogany desk. Tall and slim, he exuded an air of raw, undefined power. His hair was a dazzling white and worn brushed straight back from a high forehead over piercing brown eyes. He had an easy smile that brightened his face and a smooth, unblemished complexion that belied his sixty-three years of age.

  “Gentlemen, I’m so pleased to see you, but somewhat puzzled by the urgency of your request and intrigued by what this could be all about. Please, take a seat so you can explain,” Rand said extending a hand out first to General Sinclair then Hawk. They were both slightly taken aback by his straightforward approach and by the strength of the man’s grip in the firm handshake.

  “I must thank you for seeing us at such short notice, I’m General...”

  “There’s no need for introductions General Sinclair, I know all I need to know about you sir, and this must be the intrepid Captain Matthew Hawk, former Recon Delta marine recruited by General Sinclair himself to work for him in Col Sec’s Intelligence Division. There’s more but I think I’ve made my point. You may call me Able, all my friends do,” Rand said cutting the General off.

  Hawk glanced at Sinclair and smiling, said, “I prefer Matt, and how can you be certain we’ll be friends, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Just a feeling I’ve got, gut instinct and it’s almost never let me down,” Rand replied. “Now tell me gentlemen, what can I do for you?”

  Sinclair sat on the luxurious two-seater sofa by the wall to the right of the desk. “Okay Able, what I’m about to tell you is classified and must remain that way. You must have heard of the attack on the Confederation Headquarters building.”

  “Who hasn’t, it’s been on every news channel.”

  “Well the group responsible is called OMEGA and it was run by Jonas Wilde.�
�

  “The same Jonas Wilde who works for that snake in the grass Maxwell Eisenhower?”

  “Yes, and we think he was siphoning funds from MaxCorp to fund OMEGA and using that company’s assets, which they were providing us with, to use against us.”

  “Eisenhower must be behind it too, there’s no way he would allow Wilde to work something of that scale right under his nose. That bastard hasn’t had an original idea for years. A fact he’s so paranoid about that he has moles in every major corporation in the galaxy. I’m sure he has one here, I’ve just never been able to figure out whom, but when I do I’ll skin the fucker myself.”

  “Why would you think he has a mole here?” asked Hawk wondering if it was merely sour grapes over losing over the contract to supply Col Sec.

  “He has to have one, how else would he win that contract with what he had. The weapons he’d offered to supply Col Sec with were faulty; they had a glitch in the power modulator that caused the battery clips to overload when used on sustained fire. Two weeks before the deadline to submit samples they suddenly had a breakthrough and solved the problem giving them the opportunity to submit the Sig P996 to you,” explained Rand.

  “That could happen surely,” Sinclair said, clearly not convinced.

  “You’re right, it could happen, but the design they had wasn’t for the Sig P996, they were developing the Tokarun T90. They stole the Sig from us; they had to change most of their production matrixes to fit the new model. If I remember rightly, they were late getting the bulk order to you.”

  “That’s right,” Sinclair agreed.

  “Every major new development they’ve come up with within the last decade has come from us and we can’t seem to plug the hole,” Rand said angrily.

  “In that case I’m not sure it would be wise to ask what I came here to ask,” Sinclair said and got to his feet.

  “I can assure you General that security here at RandCorp is second to none. I know to say that after divulging what I just have would seem a tad laughable, but I can assure you that although the leak may still be unplugged, we’ve made it more difficult to hack into our systems. We are in fact in the process of attempting to pinpoint the leak so we can plug it permanently.”

  “Able, we need an alternative to MaxCorp, one that can give us the edge against OMEGA and not someone who freely gives them the same. Col Sec can’t afford another Nemesis incident and neither can the Confederation,” Sinclair said in disappointment.

  “Excuse me, Nemesis?” Rand asked.

  “Yes, that was the starship that attacked us.”

  “The bastard stole that as well,” Rand almost screamed.

  “Well that just proves my point.”

  “General, I understand your doubts and I sympathise with you. Perhaps if I show you something we’ve been working on it might persuade you to reconsider and maybe loan us Matt here to help plug the leak.”

  Matt Hawk said, “Can’t hurt to look, General.”

  Sinclair looked at Hawk then at Rand and paused, with a sigh he said, “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  29

  “You won’t be sorry I can assure you gentlemen. What I’m about to show you will rock your world,” Rand said as he led them through the door from his office. Pointing to his private elevator that was at the end of the hall Rand smiled as a tall, elegantly dressed man was just leaving an office close by.

  “Maguire, can you inform Josh and Jess I may be late for lunch, there are some things I must attend to,” Rand said as the man turned to face them.

  “Certainly, sir,” the man replied and Hawk placed a hand on Sinclair’s arm as he knew that he, too, had recognised the voice.

  Rushing past Rand, Hawk strode up to Maguire, his Sig already drawn and grabbed Maguire by the throat, slamming him against the wall and placing the muzzle against his forehead just above and right between a pair of familiar opaline eyes.

  “Give me one good reason why I don’t splatter your brains all over this wall Maguire, or should I call you Rover?” he snarled through gritted teeth.

  “Matt, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rand asked as he made to go up to him and pull him off his employee. Sinclair put a restraining hand on his shoulder stopping him and as he turned to look at the General he asked, “What the hell is going on here Sinclair?”

  “That man is a clone, one of many made by Jonas Wilde to use in the employ of OMEGA, he’s a Rover. There’s your leak Rand, right there,” Sinclair replied releasing his hold on him.

  Rand looked at the man being pinned to the wall by Hawk and Sinclair could see him working things out in that sharp mind of his, seeing if it was at all possible. Maguire looked from Hawk to Rand and the fear that was present when he was grabbed, slowly drained away to be replaced by utter calm.

  With a smile Maguire said, “You got me.”

  “Why?” Rand asked.

  “I’m a clone, my allegiance is to my master, and it’s pre- programmed at birth. I do as he orders,” replied the Rover who then calmly touched something on his wrist. Both he and Hawk were suddenly enveloped in a bright light that seemed to expand and fill the hallway and then, just as suddenly, collapsed in upon itself.

  Rand and Sinclair were momentarily blinded by this and turned away to shield their eyes. When they turned back to where the light originated, the hallway was empty.

  “Oh no!” Rand exclaimed with obvious dread.

  “What?” Sinclair asked.

  HAWK WAS LYING ON THE ground when he opened his eyes. All he could remember was the blinding light that surrounded him and the Rover. A light so bright, so intense he could actually feel it, and that sensation was pain. All encompassing pain that blotted out all thought, all emotion; a pain so deep he swore it reached down into his bones. Then, when the light collapsed in on itself, he blacked out to wake up here, wherever ‘here’ was.

  At first he couldn’t move, not a muscle. Wherever he’d travelled to, the pain had come with him and it even hurt to move his eyes. Gradually the pain began to recede and he found he could breathe once more. Taking a slow, calming breath he began to assess his condition mentally to see if the pain was a marker of some deeper damage.

  Furtively he looked around him, hoping not to draw attention to himself or to the fact he was awake, at least not until he was sure he could move. The first thing he wanted to do was have a serious talk with that Rover and find out what the hell just happened but until he was certain he could at least stand without falling over, he guessed that would have to wait.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” said a voice he recognised from somewhere behind him and therefore out of sight. From what he could see from his position on the floor he was in a huge, dimly lit chamber, so he was guessing it was closed down or at least not used very often.

  “I’ll bet you’re feeling terrible, I know I did the first time I used it,” said the clone. Suddenly overhead lights were turned on and the chamber was bathed in bright light that made Hawk wince as thousands of needles were thrust into his eyes probing towards his brain, or at least that’s what it felt like.

  “They say it disrupts the neurons in the brain almost short circuiting it as it affects the body at a cellular level. I don’t really understand all the technical details but they also say it causes cellular degradation each time it’s used with a cumulative effect. After three times the effects are irreversible. Death is inevitable, a slow and painful death by all accounts. No one has survived more than five trips using the device,” explained the clone.

  “Well that explains what just happened, sort of, how about telling me where the hell we are?” Hawk said as he gathered his strength to stand and face the clone. As he got to his feet and unsteadily turned towards the clone he took in some more of his surroundings. There was equipment around him, but he had no idea what it could be used for and when he laid eyes on the clone he noticed a change. The skin on his face looked pale, almost translucent, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes; those opa
lescent eyes that all the clones had in identical faces, which had given him away.

  He looked ill and as if he’d aged a decade in the blink of an eye.

  “How many times have you used the device?” Hawk asked, but he thought he already knew the answer.

  “That was my third, I’m a dead man walking,” Maguire said with a half smile.

  “Oh, you became that the moment I saw you,” Hawk replied sourly.

  “Very good Mister Agent Man, but seeing as how I’m going to die anyway I’ve got nothing to lose, so do you think it’s wise to piss me off?”

  Hawk looked around the chamber searching for something.

  “What?” Maguire asked angrily.

  “Oh nothing, I was just trying to see if I could see anyone who gives a fuck,” Hawk replied coldly.

  “Oh very good, I must try to use that.”

  “Make it fast then, dead man walking, remember?”

  “Not before you though,” Maguire said and he brought up Hawk’s Sig and fired.

  “OKAY RAND, YOU’D BETTER damn well explain what the hell just happened here,” Sinclair said angrily. Rand was staring at the space where Hawk and the clone had stood seconds ago.

  “That damned fool,” Rand managed to say finally.

  “What? Say something damn it,” ordered Sinclair his anger reaching boiling point.

  “He’s used the SUT, the damned fool,” Rand replied as if that explained everything.

  “What the hell is a SUT and why do you keep insisting he’s a damn fool? Talk to me Rand,” Sinclair said trying to get Rand to focus. Clearly what had just happened had rattled him and was unexpected on so many levels, but now more than ever he needed the man’s help.

  Seeming to gather his wits Rand looked at Sinclair and said, “I’m sorry General, the SUT, or Single Unit Transporter was, or is, just that, a transportation device for single unit, one person, but we abandoned it because it proved too unstable for the user. It disrupts not only the binding of cells to each other but also the entire nervous system. Anyone using it, their brain sort of short circuits, that is bad enough but something we thought we could work on and eradicate in time, until we learned of the cellular degradation. No one using it more than five times lived, after the third, possibly the fourth trip, depending on the subject, the effects are irreversible.”