The general glared. “Surrender your facility immediately.”
“That isn’t going to happen. What’s going to happen is you’re going to start working with us cooperatively, just as before.”
“You’re no longer the director of anything. You’re a criminal organization as far as we’re concerned.”
“Be reasonable about this, General. I haven’t taken out your satellites or jammed your communications because I’m on your side. And you can’t jam—or even detect—our communications because we’re so far ahead of you technologically. Everything continues as before. We can all just simply forget this ever happened.”
The general continued staring.
“Are we clear, General?”
Instead of answering, the general’s transmission ended abruptly.
As Hedrick pounded the armrest of his chair, a bruised Mr. Morrison entered the gallery. Hedrick narrowed his eyes at the man. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were going to handle this, Morrison. Thanks to you, now I not only don’t have Jon Grady, but Richard Cotton is missing, Alexa has betrayed us—and she’s run off with tech level nine equipment to boot! As if I don’t have enough to deal with already from competing board members and meddlesome government bureaucrats.”
Morrison seemed calm but stared intently. “I’m not the one who gave ‘her majesty’ an unregistered positron gun as a sweetheart gift. Sort of odd—considering it’s not really useful for anything other than BTC-on-BTC warfare. Specifically, defeating advanced nanorod armors. The type of thing one might give someone if one wanted to prevent a palace coup. Was she supposed to be your last resort, Graham?”
Hedrick paused for a moment and then turned back to the screens. “Let’s talk no more about it. We’ve both got enough enemies as it is without turning on each other.”
Morrison dabbed at his bruised face. “Where is she?”
“They may have dumped all their registered gear, but Varuna was able to sift through all the moving objects on satellite surveillance of the ground in Illinois. Tracing back from where you were overpowered, it looks like they headed to the shore of Lake Michigan, and they appear to have gone underwater from there—deep underwater—headed north. Which would make sense. It protects them from orbital weapons, and they might have thought it would hide their movements.”
“Their destination?”
Hedrick brought up another holographic window showing a close-up satellite image of the eastern coast of Lake Michigan, near South Manitou Island. He zoomed in to show a tracking marker. “Varuna thinks they might be heading to this half-submerged wreck—it’s the only thing for miles around and a way to take shelter unseen.”
Morrison nodded. “We can fry them from orbit when they surface.”
“We’re not frying anyone. I still need Grady alive.”
“But if they separate by even fifty meters, we can eliminate the other two. It’ll make it easier to catch Grady.”
“I have teams handling it.”
“You’re not referring to my teams, I hope?”
“They’re not your teams; they’re BTC teams. And you were missing in action. Varuna gave me a plan, and I sent several teams out. Do you disagree?”
Morrison pondered it irritably. “What’s going on with these government knuckleheads?”
“They launched a handful of missiles. Nothing serious. I say we let them get it out of their system.”
The technical operations officer’s hologram reappeared. “You have a call from L-329 at BTC Russia, Mr. Director.”
“Damnit! Why does this thing always call at the worst times?”
“Can’t appear weak. It’s fishing for an opening. Probably saw the missile launches.”
Hedrick nodded. “Varuna.”
“Yes, Mr. Director, I’ll modulate your voice for confidence and honesty.”
“Good.” Hedrick spoke to the operations officer. “Send the call through.”
In a moment a familiar cartoon cat appeared on a holographic screen. It spoke with apparent concern on its face. “Director Hedrick. I see you’re having a disagreement with your host government. Would you like me to resolve the problem for you?”
“No. Why would we need that? Our host government is hardly a concern—and certainly no concern of yours.”
“If you’d like us to safeguard your technologies until your—”
“I find it irritating that you are supposedly superintelligent and yet somehow do not understand the meaning of the word no. It’s one reason why having an AI in charge of BTC Russia is so disappointing—it’s like talking to a high IQ child. You have no life experience, and you ask impertinent questions. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a breakfast meeting.” He cut the line.
Morrison folded his arms. “The vultures are circling.”
“But in this case the vultures are heavily armed. I’m starting to think L-329 didn’t take over the Russian division—that Director Hollinger put it in charge to spite me. Just to make sure I wouldn’t get control of their portfolio.”
The technical operations officer’s hologram appeared yet again. “Sir, we have a remotely controlled vehicle approaching from the north. It’s a UPS delivery van, but it appears to be transporting radiological material.”
“Oh for chrissakes…”
Morrison brought up some surveillance holograms of his own. “Where?”
The officer’s hologram looked to him. “Washington Boulevard, sir. Uniformed military personnel are cordoning off the downtown area several blocks away.”
Morrison pondered the satellite image of the UPS truck, moving toward them in the nearly deserted four A.M. streets. “Tactical nuke most likely, an MADM—maybe two, three kilotons.” He looked to the ceiling. “Varuna, what would a detonation of that magnitude do to our surface structure?”
A holographic model of the neighborhood around the building appeared—and was quickly deformed by a slow-motion, blinding nuclear explosion that leveled multiple city blocks in every direction.
BTC headquarters remained, however.
“Such an explosion would strip away the concrete facade and might penetrate the diamond-aggregate nanorod curtain wall in several places. Damage to surrounding civilian and government structures would be catastrophic.”
Hedrick looked truly annoyed. “This is all-out war.”
“Could be a neutron bomb. A massive dose of radiation. Little explosive damage.”
“Either way…” He spoke to the operations officer. “Jam every radio frequency for two miles.”
“Yes, sir.”
They watched as moments later the UPS truck started to wander in its lane, then finally came to a stop a half mile away.
Varuna’s voice sounded again. “Mr. Director, let me alert you to a gathering military force elsewhere in the city.”
Morrison glowered at the UPS truck on-screen. “Do we send someone to go get it?”
“Don’t bother.” Hedrick examined other screens Varuna was bringing to his attention now—close-ups zooming in from orbit. Dozens of armored military vehicles were forming into columns miles away, mobilizing.
The operations officer appeared again. “Heavy artillery is coming out of cover ten miles to the east.”
Morrison looked toward Hedrick. “They’re doing this the old-fashioned way. Probably planned to breach our perimeter and send troops in afterward.”
Hedrick gripped the arms of his chair in rage. “I’m finished with half measures.” Hedrick brought up a hologram of another operations officer.