Chapter 27: Private Investigation
“How
, in the name of all that is holy, could this happen again?” Neal’s voice was quiet and harsh, smoldering like his mood. The table in his office was surrounded by a hasty gathering of his inner circle. General Milton sat to his left, briskly dressed in fatigues, his hair slicked down against his head with the sweat of an interrupted dawn run. Admiral Terence Cochrane sat to the general’s left, a stern expression sitting like a mask on his face. Quavoce also sat at the table, his exterior calm, as he listened to the conversation and simultaneously communed about the news’ implications with John Hunt, via subspace, far away at the Research Group’s operations hub.
The last member of the impromptu committee was Admiral Hamilton, clearly uncomfortable with this new turn, and shifting slightly in his seat as though sitting on the hot leather of a car left too long in the sun. Neal’s eyes lifted from the table and came to rest on the American admiral. After scrutinizing him a moment, his stare flicked to Admiral Cochrane.
“Admiral Cochrane,” he said, “what is the news from London? Have there been any further communications?”
The admiral shook his head, straightening his back before meeting Neal’s intense gaze. “Just the system-wide communication to intensify our standing guard at all international facilities. Informally, I believe our forces in Afghanistan have been moved to battle ready status, and we are in talks with our allies in Eastern Europe about what actions we will and will not support if the expansion continues.”
“That is something, I suppose,” said Neal. “Have there been any official announcements from Kiev or Minsk?”
The question was directed at the table in general, and after a moment Quavoce responded. He and John Hunt were monitoring the internet via their private relays, each deployed on the base.
“Not yet, Neal,” Quavoce said. “The Indians have joined the EU and the United States in openly condemning the news and calling for the release of the ‘democratically elected leaders’ of the affected states. Meanwhile, reports from Eastern Europe confirm significant troop mobilizations in Estonia and Lithuania to join those already reported in Poland, Ukraine, Latvia, and Belarus. As yet, none of those nations are saying anything openly, probably to avoid aggravating the Russians. But they are clearly bracing for worse to come.”
Admiral Cochrane added, “I can confirm that our ambassadors in most of those nations have been summoned to meet with each nation’s leaders, which would be a step in the right direction if we weren’t seeing signs the Russian ambassadors were as well. They are apparently mimicking the party line about ‘voluntary federation,’ so no surprises there.”
Neal nodded, and returned his gaze to the table in front of him, “… no surprises …” he said in a tone lathered with sarcasm.
He waited. They were still missing one person. The person who had called him to let him know the news in the first place, and as he paused she eventually arrived, slipping furtively into the room, and closing the door gently behind her.
Neal was facing her, but those that had their backs to Ayala were surprised when Neal suddenly greeted her.
“Welcome. I trust you have been plumbing your channels for further information?”
The room turned to Ayala while she pulled a seat up to the table between Quavoce and Admiral Cochrane. She placed a laptop on the table, and then surveyed the group, her eyes pausing momentarily to meet Barrett’s. They said simply: hello, darling, sorry for ignoring you, but this is business. He recognized the expression all too well.
“The information my colleagues had for me is … disquieting,” she said, deliberately. “Not so much in its content, but in its lack thereof. As with the invasion of Pakistan four months ago, we were taken very much by surprise here. And, as with the coup in Russia that started all this madness, our assets in all of the countries in question have gone silent since the incident began.”
Nods of begrudged acceptance bobbed a couple of times around the table, though not without frustration. They knew things were not right in Russia, but in the last few months they had made slow inroads, begun to open tiny gaps in the Steel Curtain. Progress had been slow, goodness knows. Glacially so, but it had been progress nonetheless, and it had given the illusion of a weakening of whatever fist gripped both Russia’s and China’s political throats.
But it was fast becoming apparent that it had only been an illusion, and Neal could not help but feel they were being played. He was not alone, and for those others in the room that had witnessed the work of the Mobiliei Agents firsthand, it was even more disquieting to imagine just how bad things might actually be in Moscow and Beijing.
“Is there
any
news, Ayala?” asked Neal, not really expecting a positive reply.
“Not from the new NATO assets in Russia, no, not that sheds any real light on how they pulled this off. But I did manage to reach one asset onsite in Ashgabat and warn him, before the curtain came down. Given his advanced warning, I can only hope that he may have slipped passed their net, and might be seeking evac at some point in the not too distant future. I’ll not know more for a few days, but if he avoids standard routes, as I have ordered him to do, he may be able to survive, at least for a little while.
“And if he was able to avoid the initial blitz, he should have a friend of yours with him, Mr. Mantil. A Mr. Granger, from Turkmenistan.”
The two glanced at each other, and Quavoce nodded, while a flash of mild surprise flowed between him and John Hunt. John was as aware of the events in Iran and Turkmenistan as Quavoce was, literally. They had gotten in the habit of sharing their memories in their entirety, to allow closer cooperation. As they both recalled those memories, they both thought of the man who had met Quavoce at the border after his bloody flight across the skies and sands of the Middle East.
Oblivious to this discourse, Neal took a moment to absorb Ayala’s comments, and then spoke, “Well, my friends, it seems like we have no choice anymore. This is too much. We have waited long enough to become involved here. Too long. We have waited for our sponsors to negotiate access for Ayala and her team’s to hunt the two remaining Agents, but I simply cannot see that happening anytime soon, and we cannot afford to delay further.
“I think it is time we intervene in efforts to find out what the hell is going on in Russia.”
Admiral Cochrane was the first to speak up, but Admiral Hamilton was just as alarmed by Neal’s statement, and only respect for the British officer held his tongue as the other man started to speak, “Dr. Danielson, goodness knows I appreciate and share your frustration, but to order unilateral action here is, I am afraid, not an option you have. I can tell you that Britain, along with her allies in Europe and America …” he glanced at Admiral Hamilton who nodded once, firmly, “is using every asset at its disposal to move the diplomatic needle with the Russian and Chinese governments.
“To say the issue is delicate would be a gross understatement, and we simply cannot have outside parties taking unsanctioned action.”
Neal looked at the Admiral Cochrane, aware Admiral Hamilton was also staring at him, waiting to see whether the British admiral’s indignation would be enough to dissuade him, or if he would need to add his own authority to it as well.
Neal saw he would not win this argument tonight and changed tacts, saying in a calmer tone, “Very well. But as you say, we should use ‘every asset our disposal,’ and maybe we could discuss ways the unique assets at
our
disposal might be of use in this situation?”
He held Terence Cochrane’s icy stare, and eventually the man took a deep breath, allowing reason in with the air, the acquiescence spreading through his veins and eventually softening his officious expression.
“Of course,” said the British man eventually, “I am sure Admiral Hamilton and I can help communicate any ideas you have to our grateful governments.”
The room settled a bit, Ayala smiling without humor at the passing of the moment. Neal looked at her first, as she expected, and she was ready when he said, “OK then, I would like to hear ideas from each of you about how we can best support the effort to get better eyes on Russia. Ayala, seeing as you have a better handle than most on this, maybe you can start?”
Ayala got her thoughts in order and then began, “The truth is that in order to gain a better understanding of what is happening here we need a long-term solution. The assets that were originally lost in the Moscow coup three months ago took years to get into place, some of them had been on the ground for decades. Nothing we can do will replace that kind of network overnight, which may go some way to explaining the … mixed success of our colleagues in MI6 and the CIA with reestablishing a clear line of sight into Russia’s movements.
“So the issue is less how to help build a strong intelligence network, and more that need for information,
any
reliable information,
now
.
“To that end I would like to propose something more intrinsic. Two key things have changed recently that give us options that the original builders of our spy networks in Russia did not have. Firstly, our relationship with Russia is no longer dependent on even a modicum of diplomatic or economic cooperation. In fact, it is probably more strained now than even at the height of the Cold War. With that in mind, information gathering methods that would have been diplomatically untenable in peacetime are now back on the table. Covert incursion, over-flying Russian airspace, all these have become options again.”
The two admirals did not like the direction this was going, but knew that it was best to listen, and even relay the suggestions from this group than attempt to shut them down here and now.
“The second thing that has changed is you,” Ayala said, nodding at Quavoce, “your arrival has, among many things, brought a series of technological advances that I imagine can aid us as we look to infiltrate the New Peoples’ Federation.” she said the title with all the derisive sarcasm it begged for.
“So, gentlemen, what does this mean?” Ayala then said, “For starters, I would like to suggest upgrading existing satellite networks with higher grade equipment. Using the facilities here at SpacePort One, the process of getting new equipment into orbit should be relatively easy.”
Neal’s expression at this could only be described as a scowl as he clearly thought about the delays to his many programs. Programs essential to the building of Earth’s fledgling defense systems.
Seeing his disquiet, Ayala took on a conciliatory tone, “Now Neal, I know that upgrading Earth-facing information gathering mechanisms is not part of our plan, but I can work with Madeline, Birgit, and their teams to minimize the impact to our schedule. Given the scale of Russia’s actions, we cannot deny the possibility they could put a far greater strain on our ability to execute to that schedule anyway, if we do not do something to rein them in.”
Neal nodded at this, begrudgingly, clearly deep in thought, but he did nod, and Ayala went on, “Next, I would like to propose that a series of small teams, four to six Spezialists each, at most, be sent to Russia in order to gather information on how they are maintaining such strict control there. Maybe also to connect with any organic resistance force that may be trying to reestablish some form of democratic process.”
The room entered another conversational drought, desiccated by the dry moods of all present. At best the two admirals could be said to be nodding politely. Neal took the floor, “Though I take great issue with taking up cargo capacity on elevator runs with this work, I cannot deny the logic behind such a plan. As for the thought of sending in small recon teams of your shock troops, or Spezialists, as you call them, I must say that seems like the very least we can do.”
He looked at the two admirals, knowing they represented the more tractable end of the immovable bureaucratic objects he was trying to motivate to action. And as he continued, he was not, in fairness, putting too much stock in his ability to convince even them, “Too much time has passed since we have had a reliable information source inside Russia, and I don’t see how we can wait any longer for national agencies like the CIA and MI6 to get a real handle on things.” He paused for breath, and the room waited while the two sides faced each other.
Ayala, Barrett, and Quavoce watched them. It was the age-old adage: the irresistible force versus the immovable object. But in this case one would prove tractable, if reluctantly, and anyone who knew Neal well, or the team of spies, officers, Agents and scientists who had been with him since the beginning, could see all too clearly that it was not going to be him.
When Neal spoke again, it was with all the calm and diplomacy of a lifelong ambassador.
“Were this to be approved, the obvious thought is to use some of your security force for the job, Ayala. Though as I think about it, I worry about their tools falling into the hands of whoever is behind all this. That leads us to a more conventionally armed force, though I fear they would suffer the same fate as the plethora of assets our political allies have already sent in there.
“We could, I suppose, send in John and Quavoce to reconnoiter the situation.” said Neal, as if thinking aloud. The room all turned as one to the present representative of Neal’s pair of potent pals, and Quavoce met their gaze with a patent willingness to wade knee-deep into any shitpile deemed necessary. Everyone in the room, including the admirals, seemed to consider for a moment how useful the two men’s abilities would be in this situation.