Xavier liked to see a pleased director. He smiled and then looked around the empty cafeteria.
“Uh, the real reason I stopped in is not for telling you something you probably already knew about Europa Jr. here.” He closed the top and then moved the system away. “Europa received one of those burst transmissions at 0220 hours. The transmissions are clouded in code for your eyes only.”
“Thank you, Xavier.”
Morales lingered and was tapping his fingers on the tabletop.
“Something else?”
Xavier didn’t know how to continue without invoking the director’s wrath.
“The transmissions are coded for a reason, Doctor. I am not a spy and would never circumvent policy in regard to sending illegal communications.”
“I would never even think that,” Xavier started to say in protest.
Niles held up his hand to stop the computer man from continuing.
“Xavier, maybe it’s time I brought you in on this since you’re good enough to see a pattern in these classified transmissions. My assistant director doesn’t even know, and I would like to keep it that way. Understand?”
“You want to keep Dr. Pollock out of the loop?”
“For now, yes. In case I… well… die or something, Europa has been programmed to deliver all this information to Virginia, only if it becomes necessary.”
“Sounds mysterious,” Xavier said politely with raised brows.
“It sounds treasonous is what you mean.”
Xavier only smiled, knowing that the outward appearance of impropriety was a mask used by Compton.
“Is the new laptop link capable of red-one communications?”
“Of course. She wouldn’t be much good if we couldn’t get new orders out to field teams.”
“Of course,” Niles said as he pulled the large box over to him and then used his voice to activate the ghost of Europa’s mainframe. “Europa, Compton 22361. Initiate contact with Farmer John, please. Clearance code, Lion in the Dale.”
“Contact cleared and initiated,” came the Marilyn Monroe voice pattern from the laptop.
Xavier winced and looked around as Europa’s voice echoed off the empty cafeteria walls. He reached out and lowered the volume. “Sorry.”
“Hey, at least it works,” Niles said with a smile.
As they watched, a series of lines appeared, and then the picture on the screen went to snow and then cleared, and then a series of bright flashes started flowing through.
“This is by far a communications standard I am not aware of,” Morales said as he watched the strange series of flashes.
“It’s communicating with a not-well-known satellite system. Instead of code names and voice security, some friends designed this system to make use of light patterns to initiate contact. Secure beyond belief.”
“I thought that was only a theory.”
“Well, it was a theory until the Overlord mission, then it became apparent that cooperation between mirror agencies in other governments, in this case only one other, dictated we have a form of communication that professional politicians have no clue exists.” Niles smiled. “Politicians come and go, but real-world problems will always remain. Excuse me. This may get a little touchy.” The light patterns on the screen started to rotate and then steadied, and as both men watched, a face appeared on the screen.
“Did I catch you sleeping, old boy?” came the accented voice from the man on the screen. He was balding like Niles and wore a tweed suit with a large and very bright bow tie. His half-moon glasses were perched jauntily on his nose.
“Hello, James. No, not sleeping.”
“Niles, old man, do you have someone there with you?”
Niles saw concern etch the face of the most brilliant intelligence officer Compton had ever heard of. They had known each other since being introduced by their mutual friend Garrison Lee back in 2001. With Durnsford, himself, and their little green alien friend, Matchstick Tilly, they had devised the Overlord plan years in advance. The two men trusted each other far more than their governments would care to hear about.
Niles cleared his throat. “Yes, I am afraid our little game has been discovered.”
“Don’t tell me, that little wheelchair-bound boy you got off the street? I should have known, and you should have, too, old man. Our dossier on Dr. Xavier Morales is far more extensive than even I was led to believe.”
“Thus, there are now three of us.”
Xavier started to say something, but a quickly placed guided missile of warning stopped him. There would be no discussion between Durnsford and Xavier Morales.
“It’s close to be morning teatime over there, so what concerns you enough to delay that?”
“Niles, old boy, you won’t believe this, but our little suspicion about our friends in Eastern Europe has now been confirmed. We here at MI6 have received word of our man being placed on some form of alert for movement into the North Atlantic — what for remains to be answered. Is there any word on your end of anything out of the normal happening there?”
Niles pursed his lips and thought a moment. “From my security brief this morning, all I know is that NATO is currently conducting Operation Reforger IV in that area, but that’s it.”
“Yes, we have the same data. Why would our hidden group put their best man on alert for the North Atlantic? It can’t be to observe a war game that has been scheduled for three years. It has to be something else.”
“I agree. I’ll start checking on this end.”
“Good show. Now, if we do find a reason for this man of theirs to show himself for the first time since the Ukraine, it has to be for something that scares them or would lead to their hidden agenda.”
“What do you propose?” Niles asked as Xavier became more confused as the two powerful men spoke.
“Since we have verified that it is indeed our suspected man leading the mission there, we will need someone to verify his identity.”
“There is only one man who can do that on a purely visual basis, and he’s on another assignment at the moment.”
“Niles, old chap, we need that murderous man identified. Can you divert your asset in case we discover the reasoning behind this sudden Russian interest in the North Atlantic? I just don’t like the smell of it.”
“I’ll see what can be done without blowing more than just his cover on an ongoing operation in the Middle East.”
“With that man, I would love to hear about his adventures, I really would,” Durnsford said.
“Yes, I bet you would, James, but even friends must keep some secrets from each other.”
Durnsford laughed. “Indeed, old boy, indeed. Secrets must be kept.”
“Go have your tea; I’ll see what can be done for here. But if it is necessary, James, you have to handle it on your end. I don’t like dealing with our asset on any level. He has yet to earn my full trust.”
“I understand completely. I have never met a man who I couldn’t understand like that gentleman. Talk soon, Niles.”
The screen went blank, and then the Europa laptop made a squelching noise, and then she shut down.
Xavier wanted to say something, but Niles again held up his hand to stop the query from being voiced.
“Suffice it to say we have a new relationship with a friend after Overlord, and we and that new friend have worries about who is really in control inside Russia. It’s suspected that they have an agenda we have yet to figure out, and both of our governments have yet to catch on. All our combined intelligence services are drawing a blank on this mysterious group. Now we may have a lead that can change all of that if we can prove this man who was just placed on alert for action in the North Atlantic works for this mysterious entity without President Putin’s knowledge.”