Cyber Dreams 2.31 - Truths and Lies

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-Plum

Juliet’s fingers were shaking with adrenaline as she touched Polk’s neck, but she found a thready pulse and said, too loudly and perhaps a bit hysterically, “Polk’s hurt bad but alive. We need backup and medical ASAP.” She glanced at Houston and saw his back to her, his knees in the small of Kyle’s back while he slipped shrink cords around his wrists.

“I can see that in the HUD, Lydia,” White’s response was clipped and edged with frustration. “Backup and medical have been requested.”

“Angel, you need to play a loop for the watchdog,” Juliet subvocalized, turning toward the tunnel and staring down it for a couple of seconds, “make it think I’m still staring down this tunnel.” Then, acting almost instinctively, Juliet turned Polk to her side and fished the little data deck out of her belt pouch. She held it in her left palm, pulled her data cable out to plug into it, and added, for Angel’s ears only, “Eject the drive, please.”

“Working—there’s some security.”

Juliet glanced toward Houston, saw he was rifling through Joshua Kyle’s pockets, and then the little deck clicked, and a tiny chip popped out of the bottom edge. Juliet snatched it and slipped it into one of her pockets. Then she wiped the deck down with her shirttail and put it back into Polk’s pouch.

“Nice work, Angel,” she subvocalized, gently unsnapping Polk’s helmet and slipping it off her head. “Lucky you had this on, Sarge, or you’d need some caps on your teeth from that faceplant.” Polk looked terrible, and if Juliet couldn’t feel the tiny quick breaths she was taking, she’d have thought she was dead. Every orifice in her head had been bleeding, though it seemed to have slowed or stopped. “Hang on,” she breathed, holding onto one of Polk’s limp, cool hands.

“We can’t advance,” Houston said. Juliet jerked her face away from Polk to look at him—he’d come up behind her without any noise. He pointed to the door. “It’d be a bloodbath if we start exploring into Zi Corp’s tower. This op just got a lot bigger than our unit.” He squatted by Juliet and Polk, then said, through unit comms, “White, did you fucking figure your shit out? Any ETA on another Zeta Unit? We need to get Sarge medical care like fucking yesterday.”

“You can see the watchdog as well as I can. You heard me say I requested help. Commander Anderson said Alpha and Bravo are on their way with medical. Also, put a lid on the hysterics; let’s keep things professional.”

“Roger, Sarge.” Houston shook his head, then said aloud, “Still breathing. I guess that’s good. You fucked up the other guy pretty well. What happened? Some kinda concussion grenade?”

“No. I don’t know what he hit us with. Felt like a targetted sonic burst or something. Did you find anything on him?” Juliet shook her head, still feeling a little pressure behind her eyes, but otherwise, all right.

“Some keys, a plasteel torch, some batts, and a data cable; nothing else.”

“Maybe he rigged one of the batts?” Juliet knew damn well whatever Joshua Kyle had used on her and Polk wasn’t an overcharged battery; she had her suspicions that it was something to do with the GIPEL project, but she wasn’t about to say anything like that out loud.

“You don’t look great, Roman. Stay put, and I’ll go hurry our relief along.”

“Wait, Houston!” Juliet said, then pointed to the door just beyond their bound, brutalized prisoner. “What if someone comes?”

“Yeah, good call. I’ll stay with you. Look at the HUD—dots are closing in any way.” He was right; several blue dots were converging on the tunnel and rapidly approaching. Soon enough, orange-suited medical personnel escorted by black-vested, helmeted Zeta operatives flooded the concrete room. They insisted Juliet back away from Polk, then started to jab the sergeant full of needles and strap her to a trauma stretcher. Juliet lost sight of her because one of the orange jumpsuits stood in front of her and insisted on doing a field assessment.

“You probably have a concussion; pretty rare to see bleeding out of the eyes like that. Any residual ringing or confusion?” he asked. He wore yellow, opaque goggles that flashed with LEDs on their lenses, but beneath them, he managed a believably warm smile. Juliet shook her head and pointed to where everyone was swarming around Polk.

“I think she was the target. Will she be okay?”

“Too soon to tell. She’s in good hands now.” He turned to watch two of his comrades hurry away with the stretcher between them, back into Grave territory. He continued waving a scanner over Juliet, pointing it into her eyes, into her ears, and even up her nose. He pulled off the little heart rate and pressure monitor he’d slipped around her wrist and said, “I think you’re okay. I’m going to mark you as fit to self-ambulate back to the tower, but I’m recommending a brain scan. You could have some micro bleeds.”

“Thanks,” Juliet nodded, and then she got in line with the train of Zeta operatives and medical personnel and followed them back into the tunnel. She saw that four operatives remained behind and figured they were there to ensure no incursions from the tunnel until the Grave execs thought of a more permanent solution.

All the way back to the elevators, she never saw White or Delma, but Yang and V were waiting for her, and Yang took one look at Juliet and carefully grasped her shoulder, leading her over to the bench where, before the op, she and White had stowed their guns, urging her to sit down.

“My gun?” she asked, looking around.

“White took it; said he’d get it back to you. He didn’t feel good leaving it with all these others milling around.” She gestured to the dozens of corpo-sec, Zeta Protocol, and medical personnel moving through the space, in and out of the elevators, and down the tunnel into the warren of passages that made up B80.

“Where’s White?”

“Debrief. Suits upstairs want to know what the hell happened down there. Talk about a clusterfuck!” Yang winced at Juliet’s downcast expression and said, “It’s not your fault, Lydia. Thanks to you, we have one of ‘em to question. At least that’s what Houston told me.”

“Can I go take a shower and get some rest? I’m starved for some reason.”

“Sorry, hon. You’re up next with the field commander.”

“Oh.” Juliet sighed and leaned back against the plasteel wall, and then she remembered her extra protein bar. She fished it out of a pocket and peeled it open, chewing it down as she watched the frenzy of activity. “What are they all doing?” She counted something like thirty corpo-sec personnel in just the elevator lobby.

“They’re sweeping the entire level and the ones above and below. I’m thinking the execs had no idea how big this infiltration was.”

“Well, yeah; they sent us into that rat maze with plastic bullets and fuck-all for intel.” Juliet hadn’t realized how angry she felt, but something about seeing Polk lying there, blood pooling out of her ears, had flipped a switch in her mind. She liked Polk, dammit, and lord knows what that little bastard had done to her. “These fucking plastic shot-shells are worthless. I had to dump way too many into . . .”

“Chill, Roman,” Yang said, tapping her temple.

“Yeah.” Juliet rested her head in her hands, her elbows on her knees, and sat there, rubbing at her scalp. She’d taken her helmet off and hooked it to a strap on her vest.

“Hey, Granado,” Yang said, and Juliet glanced up to see Delma approaching, a shell-shocked look on her face.

“They want you, Lydia.”

“Who?”

“The field command; they took over one of the apartments—first one on the left through the door.” She paused for a minute, visibly fighting a conflict in her mind, and finally, as Juliet was climbing to her feet, she murmured, “It’s Gordon.”

“Thanks, D.” Juliet stood and reached for her shotgun, but Yang held onto it. “I’ll return this for you. We gotta turn in our LTLs anyway.” She indicated Delma, and Juliet nodded, pulling out her extra magazines and handing them over.

“Thanks. I’ll . . . catch up with you two when I can.” Juliet turned to the double doors, now magnetically locked open with two corpo-sec guards holding SMGs guarding them. She noted they didn’t have red magazines in their guns. They waved her through, and then, ten steps later, she was ushered through a door by another implacable, black and gray-uniformed corpo-sec officer.

Juliet stepped into the space, identical to Joshua Kyle’s dwelling, but with all the furniture stacked up against the far wall and a plasteel folding table set up in the center. Commander Gordon sat at the center of the table, and Cherise Garza sat on the left end. At Gordon’s left elbow, a young woman with a tablet and mirrored specs sat, her face impassive. An empty seat facing Gordon waited for her.

“Good lord!” Commander Garza said, standing up and looking at Juliet with genuine concern. “Have the medics seen you?”

“Yes. I’m all right, ma’am.”

“Sit down, Roman,” Gordon said, frowning at Cherise. Juliet pulled out the folding chair and sat in it, hands on her lap. “Recount the events that took place today, starting with the moment you followed Sergeant Polk into the maintenance corridor.”

“Do you need a drink, Lydia?” Garza asked, ignoring the glare Gordon sent her way.

“Some water would be wonderful, ma’am.” Juliet nodded to Garza, who probably was issuing the order on her PAI, and then she looked at Gordon and said, “I followed Polk into the tunnels. We took the right-hand pathway. Um, according to the map in the HUD, that was east. Then we progressed in a straight line for . . .” Juliet did her best to recount the entire mission, step-by-step, sure to mention that Polk had found the data deck, and that’s when Gordon first interrupted her.

“What was on the deck?”

“I have no idea, sir. The sergeant put it into her pack.”

“You didn’t think to try to gather some intel? Your assessments indicate you have some security protocol training.”

“No sir, I was following my sergeant.”

“And the deck is still with Sergeant Polk?”

“I presume so unless someone from corpo-sec has taken it.”

He frowned and drummed his fingers on the table, “You didn’t touch or see the deck again after Polk picked it up?”

“No sir . . .”

“Carry on.” He rolled his finger in the air, and Juliet sighed and continued to recount her version of the events. When she got to the encounter with Joshua Kyle, Gordon interrupted her with question after question, slowing down the retelling significantly.

After answering his third query about what Polk shouted at Kyle, someone brought her a pouch of electrolyte-enhanced water, and she sipped at it as she answered. “She told him to turn around and put his hands on the wall. Isn’t this in our watchdogs?”

“Let us worry about the watchdogs. When did you notice he was using a weapon?”

“I never saw any weapon, but something went off. It felt like a bomb or sonic burst or, I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Why did you shout, ‘Sarge, something’s wrong,’ just before Polk went down?”

“I . . .” Juliet licked her lips and glanced from Gordon to Garza, wishing Cherise was running the show instead of the impeccably-shaven, slick-haired, cold-eyed Gordon. Cherise nodded at her encouragingly, and Juliet continued, “I heard some kind of high-pitched tone and felt a pressure in my head.” She swallowed and then lied, “It sounded a lot like a li-air batt when it’s about to fail. Have you ever heard that? Like a souped-up version of how a powerful camera flash sounds when it’s charging up.”

“Why do you think Polk went down and you didn’t?”

Juliet had thought about that question and had an answer ready, “I think she was the target.” She gestured to her blood-streaked cheeks and said, “I was collateral damage. I don’t know, maybe whatever Kyle used . . . maybe he thought it could hit us both, but was wrong.” She shrugged.

“Okay, Roman. Can you explain to me why you fired eight twelve-gauge, plastic-shot shells into Kyle? A review of your watchdog indicates he was nearly incapacitated after the second shot.”

“Nearly? He was still on his feet, and I didn’t know what he’d blasted Polk and me with!” A note of anger edged Juliet’s voice, and she didn’t care, leaning closer to Gordon and his superior, I-look-down-my-nose-at-you expression. “My sergeant was lying on the concrete with blood pouring out of her ears! I didn’t want to get into a hand-to-hand scuffle with that man until I knew he wasn’t packing another device like what he used on her.”

“Justified, in my judgment,” Cherise said.

“What was recovered from Kyle?”

“I’m not sure; Houston cuffed and searched him.”

“Did he not report to you what he found?”

“Yes, but my ears were ringing, and I was worried about Polk, er, Sergeant Polk. I don’t remember. Something like a tool and some keys, maybe? Oh! Some batteries; I could have my PAI play it back for me if you need . . .”

“Not necessary. That’ll be all for now, Roman. Commander Garza, did you have something to add?”

“Yes. You’re off active duty until we’ve gotten you cleared through medical. I’d like to be sure you don’t have any lingering injuries, Lydia. I’ll schedule things through your watchdog. For now, you’re on light duty. Report to your quarters.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Juliet stood up and turned without another word, walking straight to the elevators. She glanced left and right in the lobby, looking for other members of Charlie Unit or any friendly face at all. When she saw a bunch of impassive or preoccupied strangers, she hurried into the elevator and let Angel select her floor for her as she leaned back into the corner, avoiding the glances of two corpo-sec personnel riding up with her.

Juliet nodded briskly to the two guards when the doors opened on her floor and hurried out. On her way to her apartment, she subvocalized, “Angel, when I get to my place, I’m going to go into the bathroom. Please play an old loop for the watchdog. We’re going to plug this chip into my deck and copy it into an encrypted partition so you can have a crack at it. We need to see what the hell is going on around here.”

“Understood!” Angel replied.

True to her word, when Juliet entered her apartment, she took off her gear and threw it into the bottom of her wardrobe. She stripped down to her underclothes, palmed her data deck, and wrapped it in her uniform shirt along with the chip she’d stolen from Polk and walked into the bathroom, where she tossed her dirty clothes into the wash and turned on the shower.

Juliet plugged the chip into an extra drive port on her deck, set it on the sink counter, and tapped at the menu, initiating a full copy of the drive’s contents into an encrypted partition on her—much larger—drive. She figured she should destroy the old one when it was finished. That process started, she sat down on the toilet and said, “Angel, I think it’s a good time to check in with Rachel. Open up the encrypted line.”

“Do you think this location is secure enough?”

“Well, if there’s any way they’re watching me in here, despite you circumventing the watchdog, I’m pretty much screwed, right? I mean, considering I’m copying that drive which I shouldn’t have, and . . . you get the picture.”

“Nonetheless, you should subvocalize your conversation. I’ll synthesize your voice for Rachel.”

“That’s . . . really smart, Angel. Thank you.”

Two minutes later, the call tone chimed, and then Rachel’s voice sounded in Juliet’s ears, “January? Everything all right? No video this time?”

“Yes, it’s me. No video; I’m risking enough for voice.” Juliet subvocalized her words, but she could hear herself clearly as Angel synthesized a perfect copy of her voice for Rachel, much like when she subvocalized into team comms.

“Do you need help?” Rachel sounded genuinely concerned.

“Things are getting very crazy around here, Rachel.”

“Last we spoke, you were going in for an evaluation at Grave’s R&D department. Did something go wrong?”

Juliet snorted. She’d been thinking for a long while about how much she would tell Rachel about GARD and their GIPEL project. Still, the idea that something went wrong for some reason brought an unreasonable amount of amusement to her. She shook her head, well aware that Rachel couldn’t see her, and said, “Not really, Rachel. Not with that. They evaluated me for some kind of project, but I think they determined I wasn’t a good fit. I never got called back.”

“What was the evaluation like? Even that could help us a great deal!”

“They took some blood samples—which Grave already had, so go figure on that one—then they had me perform some manual dexterity tests. I thought I did pretty well, but maybe my blood wasn’t compatible with whatever they’re working on.” She felt a little bad giving Rachel the line of bullshit, but she didn’t want Grave to continue the GIPEL program, let alone whoever Rachel might be working for—the information needed to end here, in this tower, before Juliet made her exit.

“So, what’s ‘getting crazy,’ as you put it?”

“I’ve been working with one of their Zeta Protocol units, and we were sent down to the bowels of this tower today. They sold the mission to us as a counterespionage operation, but when we got down there, things were much worse than our commander thought—the targets had cut their way into maintenance tunnels and burrowed through bedrock to another building. Now the whole Grave Tower is on high alert, and they’ve got corpo-sec going through everything with a fine-tooth comb. I feel like it’s only a matter of time ‘til they dig up something on me.”

“Are you wanting an exit strategy?” Rachel sounded strained—worried, but Juliet got the impression she wasn’t only concerned about her. Something else was bothering Rachel; was she going to be in trouble if Juliet bailed out so soon?

“Not yet, but I’m starting to think I need to be ready. Rachel, I’ve only seen the one deposit to my account. Surely I’ve earned a few bumps in my pay since I’ve been here. I’ve given you info about several programs, and now you know there was a serious insurgency going on in the tower itself.”

“We were waiting until you met the one-month threshold, January; your bonuses will be lumped into that payment.”

“I’m on the verge of something; I can feel it, Rachel. Next time I contact you with some information, I hope we can come to an agreement about what’s owed. I hope I’ll already see you’ve shown some goodwill.”

“We’d sure appreciate it if you could stick it out. It sounds like you’re starting to get pretty deep—there’s no telling what sorts of intel you might gather in the next week or two. Maybe this high alert will blow over, and you’ll be able to get back to digging around. We want you to be safe, though, so if you need an exit, please reach out! We’ll extract you, January! Any day, any time, I’m here to help.”

“Okay, thanks, Rachel. I better cut this short. I’ll be in touch again soon.”

“Understood . . .” Rachel took a breath as though she had more to say, but Juliet ended the connection and grinned.

“I feel better, Angel. Something in my gut is telling me I did a good thing not telling Rachel about the GIPEL; I don’t know why I’ve been stressing so much about making that report.”

“Because you have a good work ethic, Juliet, and you felt bad about not coming through for your employer.” Juliet smiled at Angel’s ever-positive take on her personality and stood up, stepping over to the counter.

“Copy’s finished. Ready to see what ol’ Joshua Kyle was getting up to?”