Washington, D.C. The White House

The Situation Room

“Mister President, we have the preliminary reports of the attack.”

President Craig Garner was sitting at the head of the full table. Around him were seated the most powerful people in the country; from his Chief of Staff and the Vice President, to the Joint Chiefs’. This was an emergency meeting about answering the question everybody in the world wanted to be answered, and all of those summoned were attending the meeting.

Any information that trickled in the hours since the attack was… sketchy and weird. Oh, most of the things were explained, who the terrorists were and how they managed to execute the entire attack. He was already briefed on all that, but the most important thing was still a mystery.

When he heard about the truck bomb with radioactive material, a chill ran through his body, as if someone had walked on his grave. At that time, he had to take a shot of whiskey to calm himself; his hands started to shake when he contemplated the magnitude of the disaster if that bomb had exploded.

He looked at the intelligence major, who was submitting the report.

“So, did you manage to find out who saved our asses?”

The major looked quite uncomfortable. “No, sir, but we do have some clues. The investigation team has come up with a few conclusions.”

“Yes, go on…”

The younger man cleared his throat and pointed to his presentation, using a remote control to show various images on a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall.

“As far as the evidence shows, all the terrorists died in a time frame of a couple of seconds, and it is not only those everybody saw on TV, I mean all fifteen of them. Every single one of them was hit with multiple headshots, using unconventional rounds.”

“What do you mean by unconventional rounds?” The President asked.

The major pointed it a remote and changed the image on the screen. The picture of a small black dart was showed and beside it a ruler, to put its size into perspective.

“And what is that supposed to be?” The President asked.

“Sir, that is one of the rounds retrieved from the body of a dead terrorist. The analysis done on it tells us that it’s made of Wurtzite Boron Nitride, which is the hardest synthetic substance known to man, much harder than a diamond in fact.”

“Who makes them?”

“Sir… nobody does. It completely stumped our weapon experts; they don’t know what to make of it.”

The President closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.

“Okay then, what else have you got?”

The major looked the President in the eyes. “The bomb experts have come to a conclusion that the explosive devices on the entrances, and the dirty bomb in the basement, were neutralized by an unknown chemical agent. The leading theory is that an extremely powerful acid was poured on them, which melted their triggers and electronic components, so they would not be able to activate. But so far, no trace of its residue could be found on the scene, it baffles our investigators.”

A slight headache that the President was feeling for some time was threatening to turn into a full-blown migraine.

“So, we don’t know what, how, or who… do we know anything really?”

“Well, sir, one of the girls on the last night broadcast said she saw her rescuers after the paramedics gave her a sedative to calm down. She claims that ghosts were the ones who saved them.”

“Ghosts… of all the things in the world… ghosts.”

President Garner did not know if he should laugh or cry.

The major saw the look on the President’s face and hurried up with his presentation. “Sir, there is missing footage from the arena’s CCTV systems. We believe that someone hacked into the system and deliberately deleted the files. But one of the civilians managed to record something with his cell phone.”

Major pressed play on a prepared video, and the image showed an empty corridor when the picture became a little blurry before it sharpened again.”

“That’s it?” President questioned incredulously.

“No, sir, this is the same video, slowed down and enhanced, the edges of the distortion were colored differently for improved contrast.”

The slow-motion video was eye-opening; it captured two transparent human figures running down the corridor. President’s eyes, like all others in the room, were wide open looking at constantly replaying the video.

“Ghosts…” the president murmured.

“One of the analysts borrowed from The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency is certain that those are highly sophisticated camouflage suits, which bend visible light. DARPA has been working on a similar project for some time now, but he claims that what those people are wearing is decades in front of the current state of technology they are developing.”

After several seconds of silence, the President asked a high-strung major. “Anything else you want to add?”

“No, sir, this is all we have right now, we will inform you if any new information becomes available.”

“Thank you major, make sure that video is not leaked to the press, you may leave.”

As soon as the major closed the door behind them, the President turned to the military part of the group.

“Please tell me that this was done by one of your clandestine black ops teams, the ones you don’t even keep on the books.”

The gathered generals looked among themselves, but in the end, they all shook their heads.

He closed his eyes, “I didn’t think so, but it was worth a shot. So… what do you all think?”

Maybe that was not the question he should have asked, for the next forty minutes almost every single one of them had something to say. Unfortunately, it was nothing very useful or constructive. Some of the Joint Chiefs’ wanted those people found and arrested and some wanted to give them medals. In the end, they finished the meeting without actually making a firm decision.

Only the Vice President and his Chief of Staff remained in the room with him.

“Whoever they are, they have saved countless lives last night, so I am leaning towards rewarding these people if we ever find out who they are.”

Vice President’s face looked like he had bitten into something sour.

“You don’t agree, Philip?”

“Craig, I get your point, these people truly did something remarkable, worthy of our praise. Still, I cannot disregard the fact of what they are. What we have here, is essentially a highly sophisticated paramilitary unit, operating within our borders. With game-changing technologies that we cannot even understand, let alone emulate. Think of a scenario in which they decide to eliminate the entire Executive branch of the government, all of our security could not do anything to stop them. I am not saying they would, nonetheless, they do have such capability, and that scares me. I am still grateful for what they have done; even so, we need to find out who they are exactly, and what their intentions are.” Vice President Philip Cain said looking at the President.

His chief of staff agreed with what Vice President said, and he could not find a good argument against it.

“All right, we’ll see how the situation develops and then we will make a decision. At this moment, we have no information to help us decide one way or the other.”

A few minutes later, he found himself alone in the Oval Office. He took a bottle of whiskey, hidden behind a bookshelf and poured himself another shot of that day. He lifted the glass in a salute to the unknown heroes, which had answered his prayer and saved so many of his people, and then emptied the glass in one gulp.

He hoped his speechwriter could spin this story to their benefit, as he had a press conference in half an hour. Besides, for the life of him, he did not know what to say to them.

President Craig Garner looked at the bottle in his hand and poured himself another shot.

***

The Missile Silo

A few hours after the talk he had with Alice, Michael was waiting for his father to arrive, while watching the President’s address on a holo-screen.

The entire speech was too bland, to say at least; plenty of positive words without saying anything concrete. The main advice was for people to remain strong in this troubling time. The press did not like it and was not afraid to show it.

His father was bringing Doctor Ross to meet his family, and the doctor did not know a thing about it. It was a good thing that they had already transferred some medical nanites into him. While riding in a transporter was exciting enough, seeing his family safe and sound could be fatal since Max had found out the doctor had a bad heart. His son-in-law was still undergoing procedures in the AutoDoc, it seemed that completely regenerating a missing limb was not an easy thing to do. Unless, as Max joked, the man wanted to have two left hands.

“They are on final approach,” Max informed him.

“Okay, I’ll meet them in the garage.”

The garage was what they called the top level of the missile silo. Since the roof was designed to be open for the missile that was here for decades, Max made the top floor into a parking garage for the transporters. It was quite convenient since there was an elevator entrance in the garage that connected to all lower levels.

Michael was exiting the elevator when the roof opened up and the transporter, with its camouflage active, lowered itself to the floor.

His father was the first to exit the aircraft. “Michael, I’m so glad to see you.” Robert Freeman said with a smile and gave his son a big hug, patting him on the back. While still holding him in an embrace, he whispered close to his ear. “I saw what happened at the Millennial Arena; you made me the proudest father in the world.”

Michael could just nod, as he patted his father back in return. A strange elation filled his chest, it was funny that even after all these years his father’s approval meant so much to him.

The man who exited next was dressed in an embodiment of old wise scientist fashion. A tweed suit, big glasses, and white hair that had a mind of its own. It was as if he took Einstein in his wildest moment and made him into his fashion ideal. The lines on his face spoke of immense sadness that was eating him from the inside. For all that, he still had a bearing of a very proud man.

“Michael, may I introduce you to Dr. Benjamin Ross,” his father said, pointing at the man who was looking upwards as the garage roof was closing.

“Dr. Ross, this is my son, Michael.”

The old scientist approached him and shook his hand.

“Please to meet you, Doctor Ross.”

Very few times in his life Michael had to undergo such piercing gaze, the old man was so entirely focused on him, he could almost sense the vast intelligence behind those squinting eyes.

“So you are the leader of this… well, I still do not know what exactly this is. Your father was not forthcoming with information. Would you care to explain why I needed to travel halfway across the country, in this impossible flying craft? Who built it anyway? There is no pilot, so I assume remote control, but what powers it? — ”

“If I may interrupt you,” Michael said, raising his hand. “Everything will be explained to you if you just show a little patience.” It was maybe a bit rude but he had to cut off, what was promising to be, an endless line of questions.

“Now, I have something to show you, if you will follow me.” He started walking back towards the elevator, and a few paces behind him, his father, and the doctor followed.

The elevator was quite spacious, with high polished wood paneling and the attached screen for choosing a destination. A digital screen mounted above the door showed that they were going nine levels down to the level where Mary, the doctor’s daughter currently was, one level above the AutoDoc, close to her husband.

The elevator door opened with a little ping, and the sound of children laughing could be heard by those inside.

Anna and Mary were sitting on the floor, playing with Natalie and Lee. Michael couldn’t help but smile at the scene of happy children, knowing that until yesterday they had nothing to smile about.

Dr. Ross walked into the vast room with eyes fixated on his daughter.

“Mary?” His voice was a mix of disbelief and wonder.

Mary saw her father at that moment. “Daddy!” she screamed and jumped from the floor, running towards him. They met at a halfway and cried, holding one another.

Anna was guiding the girls toward the elevator. “Come on, children, let's give them some privacy.”

After they were all back into the elevator, Anna pressed the button for her floor. One of the little girls looked up at Michael and asked quietly, “what is going to happen to us now?”

Michael didn’t really know how to answer, so he quickly contacted Max on his CEI. “Do they have any relatives?”

“No, with their parents’ death, they are left all alone.”

Michael took a breath and then kneeled, so he could be at eye level with the girls.

“I know that you miss your parents and that you feel scared and alone. But know this, no matter what happens, I will make sure that you have a safe home to live in, and you will be taken care of. Never again will you experience what you did at the pirates’ camp. And that is a promise.”

The girls exchanged a look between themselves, turned back to Michael and said, “Okay.” at the same time.

“Can we visit with Tyron, please?” One of them asked looking at Anna.

“Yes, we can, let me first inform him to expect us.”

Michael raised one eyebrow. “You like Tyron, don’t you?”

“Yes!” They synchronously answered, “He tells the best stories.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does… have fun.” Michael said as they were exiting the elevator on Tyron’s level.

“Max,” he said after he was left alone with his father in the elevator. “Tyron tells stories?”

“Yes, he is quite a talented storyteller and the children feel safe around him, and highly entertained.”

“Right… I didn’t know that.” Michael said, smiling and thinking about the seven-foot-tall mountain of a man.

Michael turned to his father. “Dad, there are a couple of beers with our names on them, let’s go and find them.”

For the next hour, he talked to his father about how things are coming along and had to tell the entire story about Somalia and the Millennial Arena. It was quite relaxing, just sitting and talking to him, something they did not do that often.

After his father left to see how Dr. Ross was doing, Michael went to the lounge; it was one entire level turned into an informal meeting place. There was even a pool table and one giant holographic wall that acted as a TV screen. Elizabeth, Alice, Pete, and Al were all looking at the dozens of news channels right now.

“So, what is the latest news?” He asked the silent crowd that had their eyes glued to the screen.

Elizabeth was the first to answer. “At first, there were many wild theories, but nothing definitive. And then fifteen minutes ago, a video of you guys leaked and the whole thing got wild.”

“What video? We were camouflaged!” Michael asked while his stomach tightened in anticipation of the answer.

“This one,” Elizabeth answered, manipulating the remote control. There was a computer-enhanced, slow-motion video about two transparent figures running along one of the corridors of the arena.

“Damn, somebody filmed us. What are the reactions?”

“Divided, some people say it’s all fake, part of some elaborate hoax. Then there are the alien’s theories, next-gen military tech, take your pick. Those that believe the video is real are calling you guys ‘The Saviors’. And the officials are merely reciting that the whole thing is under investigation and that they have everybody working on it.”

He did not like the fact that there was a video of them, even after Max deleted all internal recordings from the arena.

“Michael… the entire arena attack stinks,” Elizabeth said after a pause.

“What do you mean?” He asked and turn from the TV to look at her directly.

“It looks too organized, or maybe the better word is scripted. The speeches, live television, beheadings, truck bomb. As if they are all acts in a story, every next step is building on the previous one. There is something nagging me about this whole chain of events. As I said, it has a feel of the movie script.”

Michael looked at the ceiling and said, “Never do an enemy a small injury.”

All the others looked strangely at him.

So, he continued, “It’s something that Niccolò Machiavelli wrote, if you leave an enemy with a small injury, he will get back at you the first chance he gets.”

“You think what they were planning would be a small injury?!” Elizabeth asked with a raised voice.

“Yes and no. You have to look at the bigger picture, see the entire forest, and do not get distracted by trees. There was always a strange balance between terrorist attacks and natural responses to them. If they are small enough the response is mild, but look at 9/11 and what followed. You are right; this thing makes no sense unless it was a plan to provoke a response, a domino effect. Think for a second, what would have happened if they were successful. The death toll would have been in the tens of thousands, people and children dying from radiation poisoning would prolong the suffering. As monstrous as it would be, this attack would not defeat us, in fact—it would enrage us.”

Michael paused with his eyes focused on infinity, trying to grasp the explanation that was almost within his reach. “This would provoke a war; the entire Middle East would have gone up in flames. Anybody connected with the attack could expect the sky to fall on them. And that’s why the whole thing was building to the greatest emotional impact.”

“Follow the money,” Elizabeth said. “That’s what my instructors always pointed out, follow the money, and find the source.”

Michael nodded. “We know that this ‘High Council’ is in all likelihood behind all this, from Ariz Rama connection; and from everything we found out, they are all about power, control, and money. Religion has no influence on their decisions, it is a tool. Every action has its own reaction, so we need to figure out who would have the most to gain. When we can answer the question of who would profit the most from this conflict, we will be one step closer to finding their identities, and stopping them once and for all.”

The atmosphere in the room was sober and thoughtful; that someone could even contemplate ending so many lives for more profit was monstrous.

His father entered at that moment, “Michael, Dr. Ross needs to speak with you.”

As he was leaving, he could hear his father asking the others, “Right then, will someone tell me who rained on your parade.”

***

“Dr. Ross, my father said that you want to speak to me,” Michael said as he entered the day room of the doctor’s assigned quarters.

“Ah, Mr. Freeman.” The older man stood up from the chair when he heard Michael.

It was such a short time ago, but the man looked changed as if he lost an entire decade of his age.

“Don’t stand up on my account, and please call me Michael, when someone calls me Mr. Freeman, I have an urge to turn around and see if my father is standing behind me.”

The old man smiled. “All right, Michael, then I’m Ben. All that doctor stuff and nonsense always made me feel like I was putting on airs.” Ben’s face became serious. “I… I want to thank you for saving and bringing my daughter and son-in-law back to me. Mary told me how it happened, and I will forever be grateful to you.”

“I’m sure anyone would do the same if given the tools we have.”

“I doubt that; this world has become a cruel and uncaring place, where everyone looks only for their own interests. I tried everything, even begged those whose job was to protect people, but no one would do so much as lift a finger to save them. I think that most of them were offended that I brought my problems to them. As if they couldn’t be bothered.”

The echo of the pain Michael had noticed when he first saw the doctor, was still in the man’s eyes.

“When I talked to Mary, she said that she wants to adopt the girls. They have no one left in this world, and I guess they bonded while they were in captivity together.” Ben continued.

Michael nodded. “I can understand that, but the legal side of that can be quite problematic. If she goes to the authorities… for now, they cannot tell them how they escaped from the pirates. Besides, I think your son-in-law will have a say in the whole matter.”

“Mary doesn’t want to go to the authorities; she feels they let them all down. Maybe it was my influence, but she does not trust them anymore. About the girls, I believe Adam would be in favor of the idea; you see, they cannot have children and were planning to adopt. I am the only family they have alive. They want to do what is best for the girls.”

Michael could understand Mary’s dissolutions and knew that if ever a situation arises when one of his people is captured, he would move heaven and earth to get them free. And would exact a heavy price on the perpetrators, to be a lesson for all others who harbored such intent.

“And speaking of my son-in-law, I saw that AutoDoc he was in… you have access to such amazing technologies, I hope you don’t mind, but your father has told me some things about your situation, highlights mostly, it is quite an incredible story.”

“Yes, incredible, but very true; your son-in-law should be out of the AutoDoc by tonight.”

“His hand…”

“It is being regenerated as we speak.”

Ben pondered that for a minute.

“The question is why do you need me? Why all this effort for an old broken man?” Ben asked.

“Aside from the fact that rescuing your family and the girls was the right thing to do, we need you for your expertise. Our ultimate goal is to create a space-based society. That means space stations and habitats, colonies on different worlds, and exploiting the abundance of material floating around in space. I need you to create a step-by-step plan of how to achieve all that, taking into consideration that there will be thousands of people living together, and we are not the most amicable species at best of times.”

Ben’s face expressed surprise, elation, and concern.

“Alright, I have done some theoretical work in those fields, especially for NASA. We made a collection of what-if scenarios and many of them can be adapted to your needs. But this is an enormous task that will require engineers, psychologists, nutritionists… I can think of another dozen specialists that will be needed.”

“And you will have a generous budget to hire whoever you think will contribute. Even so, we are under a time limit as we cannot stand aside and let atrocities happen when we have the power to prevent them. As a consequence, that will inevitably draw attention to us. In addition, you will have Max to assist you.”

Ben looked confused. “Max? Who is Max?”

“I see my father didn’t tell you everything. Max is our residential AI,” Michael smiled, “Max, say hello to Ben.”

A few feet away from their table, a familiar hologram appeared, “Dr. Ross, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Ben was lost for words, staring at the apparition with open mouth until he recovered.

“AI! You have an AI… ah… hello Max.”

Michael suppressed a laugh and stood up. “Why don’t I leave you two alone, so you can get to know each other a little better? Max, give Ben full disclosure.”

The AI nodded and turned to the older man. “Dr. Ross, I have read everything you published. I’m interested in…”

Michael could hear them continue their excited and quite technical conversation as he was leaving the room. No matter how fascinating a discussion between one of the Earth’s top scientists and an AI would be to listen to, he really had many things to do.

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"Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Take his fish away and tell him he's lucky just to be alive, and he'll figure out how to catch another one for you to take tomorrow."

Schlock Mercenary maxim

;)