A dark silhouette appears on the screen. Some kind of holoprojector is being used to distort his face. The hiss of a cardamine breather unit is audible. The man leans forward and speaks with a purposefully deepened and distorted voice.
Good day Garrison.
We have your virus. It is every bit as deadly as you require. We have dispatched Adder and Pearl to Planet Malta to make the delivery in person. They are flying unmarked, unexceptional craft, no one will know what their true purpose is but us, and yourself. As for the capabilities of the virus, I quote:
Quote:
...it is designed to inexorably damage, disrupt, deactivate, disgronify and discombobulate any kind of wetware, or bio-mechanical device, including but no limited to : Bio-neural provessors and Holo-Tain devices. Damages are both digital and physical in case it is used against an Holo-Tainment network.
Although extremely powerful, Satansoft remains stealthy and discreet : it affects its target in an undetectable way. The enemy will realize they have been hacked only when critical components suddenly stop functioning, leading to the inevitable collapse of their system. The digital equivalent of an invisible dagger held at your opponent's throat.
Once uploaded in a system, it will remain dormant until it receives a series of programmed command. Note that these commands can be emitted by the system it infiltrates. Instructions about this can be found attached.
Signal detected....encryption protocol matched...Transmission begins....
To: Scene One, Alcor Wing, VR
From: Brandon Garrison, 101st Ghosts of Razgriz
Excellent, Scene; you are now one third closer to earning your vessels. Should you be able to complete all these tasks, I may have work for you in the future, should you wish. Good help is hard to find. Let me know, discreetly, when your operatives have arrived on Malta and we will set up a rendezvous.
Garrison looked up to see what Harrison wanted. He was trying to get caught up on paperwork and this tended to make him irritable. 'Yes, Harrison?'
'Sir, you have a message incoming. Its...ah...the freq you set up with..'
'Yes, Harrison', Brandon interrupted, 'thank you.' Garrison waited until Harrison had shut his office door before activating the comms interface built into his desk. Activating the unique encryption protocol he had passed to the Scenes, he waited for it to show in place. 'Buenos dias, Senor Adder. I am pleased you were able to acquire something so quickly. As I would rather prefer not to meet in space, why dont we meet dirtside? As Im sure you know your way around, meet me at the Siren's Arms tonight at 11pm, Standard Maltan. Try not to be late.' Without waiting for a reply, Garrison cut the comms and called for Harrison.
'Harrison, contact Espanoza and tell him I need a surveillance team, a good one. Since he has managed to not find a damn trace of a trail on our little break-in, this will be his chance to redeem himself. Tell him that I will be meeting some people at the Siren's Arms tonight at 11pm. I expect they will be early, so I want his team in place by 9. They are to do NOTHING, just watch my back. And get an update from Security. Ive yet to hear a reason how an infiltrator got in my quarters. Remind them I havent forgotten.'
Harrison hesitated, 'Do nothing sir?'
'Correct. I would dearly love to have a nice little chat and squeeze every little secret out of these folks, but I need them a while longer. I suspect its no coincidence that the one time they have to show themselves in public is for the one task they have finished. We have to stay in their good graces still. So no funny business. Tell Espanoza if he even has them followed, Ill come down on him like a ton of bricks.'
'Yes, sir.' Harrison closed the door on his way out, leaving Garrison with his thoughts.
At precisely 10:48, Malta standard time, a pair of Arrow Interceptors touched down at the landing pads closest to the Siren's Arms. Adder was apprehensive. He was the one that had broken into Garrison's quarters to plant the vial of ash, as well as the one to pickpocket Garrison's courier on Barrier Gate. Obviously, if he was caught, he would be in some serious trouble. Adder reassured himself that he had left no evidence behind connecting him to his intrusion.
The Siren's Arms was a seven minute walk from the landing pad. Adder climbed out of his Arrow. Adder's ever-darting eyes analyzed the multiple buildings and hills along his path. If Garrison was going to double cross him, Adder knew he was seven kinds of screwed. However, he had his orders, and he was more afraid of Alcor Wing than he was of Garrison and his lackies. Besides, Adder saw no one in the windows of the buildings, and no one else on the street other than normal late-night passerby. Adder reached into the cockpit and pulled out a small briefcase, 12 inches by 6 inches. He handcuffed it to his wrist, closed the cockpit, and started walking towards the Siren's Arms. It was 10:50. As he left the landing pad, he motioned to Pearl to stay in his ship. Adder allowed himself extra time because of his injuries; he was still recovering from the rib-bashing he'd sustained in another operation.
Impatient, Garrison checked his timepiece again. It was an antique pocket watch, a gift from his Mother. She got it on Thunder Bay from a Junker who refurbished them as a hobby. He smiled remembering the inscription. 'Now you have no excuse to be late. Love Mom'. Trust Mom to be touching and still come off as a...well, Mom.
Garrison was just putting it away when someone walked in the Arms, exactly at 11. Just under six feet, thin, nondescript really. Except the eyes; they swept the place casually, yet thoroughly. Garrison had seated himself upstairs with a view of the entrance. As the stranger made eye contact, Garrison saw a flicker of recognition and....nerves? Interesting. As the stranger approached the stairs, Garrison thought to himself 'There is no way this is the guy. He couldnt be more obvious if he tried. He's limping slightly and has a briefcase cuffed to his arm, for God's sake.'
'Red herring', Garrison thought, sweeping the bar for the man's companions. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, but that didnt mean much. While Garrison had grown up on a Freeport and had seen more than a few of these meetings, he wasnt trained for it. He noticed other people observing the man, but not seriously. This was Malta after all; with all the different Families and interests these things happened all the time.
The man approached and sat down without a word; back to the wall, Garrison noted. Even up close the man was thoroughly plain. He could disappear into a crowd in seconds.
'Buenossss diasss, Ssenor Garrison', the man said, with a curious sibilant accent. 'I am called Adder. I have brought your...item.' With this he placed the briefcase on the table, keeping his hands well in sight.
'This man is well named', Brandon thought. 'Thank you, Mr. Adder. I hope it wasnt too much of an inconvenience meeting personally, but the less people involved the better,' he said out loud.
'No trouble, I am here sssomewhat regularly. I am to tell you that another of your tasssks, the resssearch data iss coming along and sshould be finisshed ssoon.'
How the hell is this guy supposed to be an operative with that hissing? Or the limp? Is that permanent? Injury? Faked? Garrison knew he would probably never find out. He suspected this would be the only time he saw this man. 'Can I offer you a drink? The Arms has a fine stout.' Garrison replied.
'I know,' Adder said with a trace of a smile. 'but I musst be going.' Giving a quick sweep for watchers Adder unlocked the briefcase and handed over an optical disk. 'Here it isss. Make ssure not to mix it up, yesss?' The man stood and stuck out his hand for a shake. 'A pleassure to meet you, Misster Garrisson.'
Garrison stood himself and shook the man's hand. 'Likewise, Mr. Adder; I hope our groups can continue to work together. Safe skiesss.' Garrison couldnt resist.
Garrison sat down to finish his beer and watched the man leave. He waited five minutes but no one else left the place. Had the man really come alone? He pocketed the disk and signaled the leader of his backup team. The man strolled over to Garrison, shook his hand for the benefit of any onlookers and casually sat down with his own drink.
'Impressions, Commander'?
'The man sat back in his chair, the very picture of nonchalance. 'Sir, either they are very good, or this guy isnt a field operative. Thing is though, we didnt make anyone else. He seemed to be solo. That limp? That wasnt faked; I saw him wince when he got to the stairs. If I had to do a meet and was injured, I would send a replacement. Thats just sloppy.'
'Perhaps despite leading us to believe he had a companion, he was truly alone. No choice but to come.' Garrison replied.
'No sir. Image capture from the nearby pad shows him with a wingman. We got shots of their craft, but no good ones of the wingman. Dont even know if it WAS a man.'
'Are you following them?' Garrison inquired.
'No sir, our orders were surveillance only. Once he walked out the door, he was on his own.'
'Gracias, Commander. Good work. Your team can leave at your discretion.' Garrison said, mind obviously elsewhere.
The man got up, nodded slightly and moved off. Garrison sat back and tried to make sense of the meeting, thumbing the future in his pocket.
Signal detected....encryption protocol matched...Transmission begins....
To: Scene One, Alcor Wing, VR
From: Brandon Garrison, 101st Ghosts of Razgriz
Excellent. I have forwarded your data to Galicia and the researchers there are quite enthused. That is two out of three. I have heard recon reports that our tech is not as widespread as it once was; I do not know if this is because word of your ah...repossession teams hit the rumormill or if they are just laying low. Nor do I care. If this hunt is not within your current capabilities or interest, you may owe us a favor. You have completed two of the three tasks I set you so I have no problem with that. If I come across something that would utilize your talents, I will be in touch; if you find something you think would discharge your debt to us, feel free to run it by me.
Garrison sat back at his desk and looked forlornly at all the paperwork. His office was bigger now but that just seemed to let the paperwork spread more. His desk was awash with reports, updates, fleet comms and other bureaucracy. 'Ive really got to get Harrison to figure out a sorting system', he mused while pawing through messages. There was a knock on his door and Garrison sat back, grateful for the respite. 'Yes?'
Harrison filed in followed by Espanoza and some officer Brandon didnt recognize. 'These gentlemen have updates on the infiltration of your quarters sir.' Harrison said before leaving, pulling the door shut behind him.
Espanoza spoke first. 'Sir, we have found out how the infiltrator got into your quarters. We found these in the hallway monitors,' setting down some small piece of electronics. 'They are signal interrupts. When triggered, they replace the normal feed from the cameras with a stored image; in this case an empty hallway. It wouldnt work in high traffic areas as we would notice someone vanishing midframe, but in a little used corridor in the middle of the night no one would notice. The splice is flawless, no static or image distortion. If our man has the capability to implant these under our noses then your door lock would be no challenge. Now that we know what we are looking for we are scouring our sensor net. All of them should be removed by day's end. I have also initiated a full security sweep of our networks. This will not happen again, sir'. Espanoza reddened gratifyingly.
'Bueno. Nobody is perfect, but we do our best, si? And...I dont know you.' Garrison said, looking at the other officer.
'No sir. I am Commander Rodriguez, technical services. We have run an analysis of the vial we were given and were able to partially reconstruct the contents. It isnt much, but its not exactly easy to rebuild a pile of ash back into legible form. Also, chemical dating shows the file originally to be over a decade old. We cant pin it down more as the burning process skewed our tests. He handed over a single sheet, heavily redacted.
'How were you able to reconstruct it at all?'
'Its a matter of how it was burned, sir. As Im sure you know, when we destroy documents, they go through a shredder, then into the incinerator. This wasnt shredded before burning and the heat seemed be no hotter than normal flame.' Seeing Garrison's vacant look, he explained. 'Its a matter of intensity sir. Take light for example. At low levels, it lets us see. Crank it up and it can burn skin. Crank it up more and it becomes a laser that will take your arm off. When we incinerate something, its so hot that there is no way someone can reconstruct it. And it helped us that the paper had not been shredded; let us reconstruct the fragments easier.'
'Good work, Commander. Captain Espanoza? See if you can track anything down in our records relating to this. Be careful, Captain. There is no telling if they have left us any little surprises. And keep looking for our infiltrator. We have no way of knowing if he snuck in and back out or if we have a mole. Keep me informed of your progress.' Both officers saluted and filed out. Garrison looked back at the mountains of paperwork and sighed. 'Harrison! Bring me a shovel!'
Signal detected....encryption Charbydis Orange....matched...Transmission begins....
To: Senor John Petrucci, VR
From: Brandon Garrison, 101st Ghosts of Razgriz
RE: Payback
Buenos dias, Senor Petrucci. I have thought of a way you could pay us back for your ship construction that would be beneficial to us both. As Im sure you know, we have a program called Mercnet. If it is amenable to you I would like you to destroy ten targets listed on our board; this will make us even. After that, you can collect bounties at the listed price. If this is satisfactory let me know and sign up with the program.
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