[The Fear Saga 01] - Fear the Sky (2014) (32 page)

He went on. The room listened and each person spoke up as other points came up. There were recaps of a sort but no one needed to point out the vast holes that still remained.

They bandied other options around: launching a battery of Nuclear Ballistic Missiles from Turkey or the Black Sea and hope that Russia does not retaliate; find a way to assume control of either the Royal Navy’s second Type 47 Destroyer or one of the US’s new Arliegh Burke class satellite killers, neither of which was even afloat yet.

They were stalling, everyone could see that. They clearly needed to do more research here and rather than let the meeting flounder on the seemingly impossible task of co-opting the Russian missile system the colonel moved the agenda on to other areas.

They each had a role on the team, a niche they filled, and leadership was the colonel’s. He was a decision-maker, and for the next twenty minutes or so helped focus their attention on planning the next nine months of everyone’s life. As he did so, it was clear to them all that those nine months were going to be the most challenging they had ever known, and yet still even a glimmer of true hope seemed almost too elusive to grasp.

* * *

As the meeting entered its final hour John’s internal clock let him know how little time he had left for his long journey back to San Diego. He had one very important topic he had to discuss with the team, and it was time he got to it.

“If I could change gears for a moment, there is something I need to update you on while before I need to leave.” They turned to John Hunt, “I hope you have been able to use the information I gave you on my seven colleagues around the world to track some of them down, and hopefully without incident.”

The colonel confirmed his assumption, “To a degree, we have. I was able to find Lana Wilson here in the US via discreet means, and Jean-Paul Merard in France. Ayala has also managed to track down Raz Shellet in Israel via her remaining Mossad contacts. Unfortunately, the others have been harder to get accurate information on without arousing suspicion, but we know their names and rough assignments, all except one.”

John nodded, “Except one.” He said gravely, “Yes, one of us is not following the same path as the others, and is, perhaps not surprisingly, having a less … predictable time during his stay on Earth.”

The colonel, Ayala, and Neal all knew who he meant, and they were a little worried where this was going.

“Shahim Al Khazar” continued John, “has been causing quite a stir in Pakistan. He has been a little too successful, perhaps. And because of this he has been forced to call more attention to himself than the Council would have preferred at this stage. I should tell you that it was him, and him alone, who assassinated the prime minister of Pakistan earlier in the year.”

The room was stunned. The incident had rocked the world, and security had been vastly increased in the region because of it. But the freedom fighters had also been emboldened by the unexpected victory, leading them to ever more violent, if often futile, acts.

John did not pause while the news sunk in, “The attack was an attempt by a power-hungry cleric to get rid of the Agent, who he perceived as a potential rival. When Agent Shahim succeeded in the impossible scheme and managed to survive to return to the insurgents’ base in the mountains, the cleric was forced to admit he had ordered the insane attack. He died ignominiously in the Waziristan Mountains the next day, but Shahim’s star rose sharply with his success. The leaders of the Taliban and Al Qaeda have decided that such a capable fighter should be sent somewhere where his skills would be of greatest advantage.”

John paused a moment and Ayala spoke up, “He is heading to Iraq?” she asked.

John shook his head and said, “That would be problematic, yes, but more for us than for you. No, actually it is much worse. The exact location of Shahim is difficult to say as he has had to leave his relay behind in Pakistan, but he is updating the satellites regularly using the laser built into his eye, and according to his most recent reports, he landed in New York a week ago.”

After he surprised everyone with his success in Pakistan, it had been decided that Shahim Al Khazar should be sent abroad. Partially because the powers that be wanted him causing damage in America, and partially because Pakistan was so up in arms over his actions that neither he nor anyone else could achieve very much for the foreseeable future.

As they rushed to prepare him for his new assignment, Shahim had shocked all of the teachers appointed to him with the speed with which he picked up the skills he would need. Of course, the truth was that Agent Shahim Al Khazar could easily speak any language on earth, and master any technique they chose to teach him in seconds, but he had to maintain a pretense of being human, and so slowed his uptake to a more believable pace. Being sent to America was an unfortunate detour, but delaying it with a feigned inability to learn English would only have postponed the inevitable, while also frustrating the very people Shahim was trying to impress.

He had arrived in New York as a stowaway on an Oil Tanker from Saudi Arabia after being smuggled across the border from Pakistan with a group of refugees.

Security was tight after the attack in Pakistan, and he had told his superiors that he would need to lay low and plan his next mission more carefully. At this particular moment, however, he was literally lying flat on the roof of a tenement building in Queens, staring at the sky. His weapons array was folded out of its niche in his left eye socket and he was using a low-power, focused beam from its laser to send a signal to the satellite ranging above. Though it was not high bandwidth, and had a slight delay to it, he would be able to participate fairly effectively in the Council meeting that was about to start.

The eight avatars stood in their circle. John Hunt had just made it back to the HMS
Dauntless
waiting in Hawaii after his supposed conference in San Diego. Despite Shahim’s not being fully connected, his avatar appeared just like the others, but the limits of his connection would not allow a full range of expression to be expressed on the virtual Agent’s face.

Mikhail Kovalenko spoke first, “It seems pretty clear to me that he must either fail in America or be discovered in order to have him sent home. It also seems clear that failure may bring some unwelcome consequences, so instead we should look to engineer Shahim’s discovery and subsequent escape to force his leaders to bring him home.”

“I agree,” said John Hunt, “surely Lana can easily arrange for his identity to be discovered. Have him arrange a low-level attack, and be caught on video. The image would make him a liability to their cause in America and force them to bring him home.”

Lana spoke next in her usual haughty tone, “I have been considering this reassignment, and before we rush him back to Pakistan, it seems to me that we could take advantage of his being here while also helping his credibility and standing with his leaders back in the mountains of Pakistan. I propose to the Council that we have him take out some of the more capable officers in the US’s leadership ranks. If he kills a few senior folks, then it ramps up the US’s anti-terrorism work, which takes the focus off Pakistan for a while, softening it for attack when Shahim returns there in due course. Of course, it also helps with my own progress up the ranks here, especially if I end up being the one who identifies him.”

Pei Leong-Lam asked, “What targets would you want Shahim to consider taking out?”

Before Lana could answer, the voice of Shahim interjected. Because of the machine speed the conference was being conducted at, compared to the slow speed of his laser communications, Shahim was only just now responding to the AI’s original question.

“Fellow Agents, it is clear that I have the most … irregular assignment among us all. The process of promotion within a guerilla army is far from predictable, and this detour to America is a direct result of that lack of predictability. Maybe it is time to rethink our strategy here? If the Council approves, I could easily make some minor adjustments to my appearance and join the Pakistani army as a junior officer as you have all done in your respective countries. With my knowledge of the insurgency, I could quickly get promoted simply by helping the regular army defeat the remaining Al Qaeda forces.”

The AI responded as soon as Shahim finished talking.

Most of the team decided to wait and allow Shahim the time he needed for his inevitably delayed response to come back. Most of them.

“Listen,” Lana said, “this conversation is moot. Of course we are not going to reassign Agent Shahim now. Instead of simply looking at the downside, I wish to discuss what this might buy us. We have an opportunity here and I think we should use it. Shahim can do what I cannot: start to disrupt the defenses of one of our three greatest threats right now. With the US’s responsiveness damaged, we can then focus more of our efforts on China and Russia. I, for one, am very afraid of the sheer scale of China’s war machine. Can one Agent really disable such a leviathan alone?”

Pei’s avatar looked at her. The Agent that was Lana Wilson was overlaid with the personality of none other than an emperor’s daughter. The princess had lobbied hard for the position, and several of her competitors from within her nation’s own populace had mysteriously disappeared during her campaign to secure the prestigious role. She sought glory and fame, and eventually she sought her father’s throne, and having her personality selected as one of the eight was as glorious a first step as she could envision.

In short, she was a pretty serious bitch.

But the strict parameters of the Treaty of Conquest, which all the world leaders of Mobilius had signed, dictated that while she was on this mission, she was one of the eight. Equal among her fellow Agents. At home, Pei Leong-Lam represented three much smaller empires, whose combined influence amounted to far less than the power of Lana’s mighty Balachai Dynasty, and Pei would have been no match for her, but here, the treaty Lana’s own father had signed made them all equals. He smiled at his condescending but temporarily impotent fellow Agent. He need stomach no shit from her here.

“Thank you for your concern,” said Pei, his avatar more than adequately delivering all of the thick sarcasm he had layered the words with, “but my assignment to the Hong Kong Intelligence Division puts me well on-track for promotion to Missile Command within our schedule. In a few years I will have access to significant proportions of the Chinese nuclear arsenal. It is, I believe, only in America and Russia that control of the nuclear arsenal is spread over all three branches of the military. Maybe I should be giving you some tips on how to handle your little country, Lana?”

John let them bicker. All the better. He assumed that Lana had some reservations about him as the only Agent nominated by the Nomadi clans. It was just her snobbery as a royal princess. Luckily though, she was just as patronizing to her other cohorts as she was to him and that suited John just fine.

It had been less than half a second of real-time since Shahim had last spoken, but the equivalent of nearly five minutes in the meeting of the machine-based minds when Shahim’s signal returned to guide the response of his avatar once more.

“I know the safeguards that the Pakistanis have put in place to guard against infiltration, but if I were to help them to defeat the insurgents once and for all then I would be a national hero. Surely an exception might be made for me at that point and I may be promoted early?”

The group thought about this. John hoped they would agree with Shahim, if only because John himself thought the idea was inherently flawed. But unfortunately they were not idiots, and one by one their avatars started shaking their heads.

Raz Shellet spoke from Israel, “No, Shahim, that plan relies too much on chance. Your reputation amongst the rebels grows ever stronger. At this rate, you may even be able to take over the insurgency completely at some future date, at which point you would be able to command the suppression of Pakistan’s nuclear capability yourself. Remember, Shahim, we do not need to get control over their weapons, only to stop them from being used in the coming war.”

She stopped talking and the room waited once more, giving their low bandwidth colleague time to respond. Even Lana was silent this time, waiting for the room to turn, happy that it looked like she was going to get her way.

But impatience eventually got the better of her, “Have we decided then? Shahim will stay in the States.” She looked around the room, bullying them into responding. But they ignored her as best they could and waited for Shahim’s response. It was his assignment they were discussing and they would let him have the last say before they voted.

When Shahim’s reply eventually came, they were lucky that they could not see the true emotion behind it. Shahim had lost his taste for helping the insurgents fight their war. He would comply with the decision of the Council as was his duty but he was wearing down. This was not what he had signed up for, and not what he had been trained for. He was a general, a hero, and a fierce patriot, and this job deserved none of those titles.

Reluctantly he replied, “Very well, I will continue to fight the insurgents’ fight for them, but I have been told to select my targets from a list given to me by the grand clerics. I would appreciate the Council’s input on which of these I should destroy first?”