Stasis: A Will Vullerman Anthology (5 page)

The stream resumed. Vullerman added, "I'm eager to continue working to help my country."

Brownbarr frowned. "Does Vullerman know that his home is bugged?"

"No, sir."

"Then why in the blazes is he talking like he knows we're listening?"

Mothinghotch cowered. "I—I don't know, sir. Maybe he's practicing."

Brownbarr opened his mouth to say more, but movement in the video arrested his attention. Vullerman stood up. Something banged, out of the camera's sight. Vullerman moved stealthily into a corner with his back pressed against the wall.

A man walked up from behind him, visible only from the torso down. He said something, but Brownbarr couldn't make it out.

Vullerman spun around and kicked at him, but the man dodged out of the way. Vullerman rolled into a crouch and then stood, his back to the camera. They said a few words, and then the man tossed something to Vullerman. Brownbarr saw it glimmer. Something metal?

Vullerman stared at it for a moment, and then, abruptly, he toppled to the floor.

Mothinghotch hit the pause button. "It seems, sir, that Mr. Vullerman put on some sort of ring. See?" Mothinghotch zoomed in on the footage, and sure enough, a ring was just visible on Vullerman's motionless hand.

Brownbarr stared at it. "A ring?"

"We don't know what it's for, sir. But it incapacitated Mr. Vullerman. After this footage was taken, the man dragged Mr. Vullerman out the back door. And then someone made a disturbance and kept our agents busy while some of this man's cronies picked him and Mr. Vullerman up. They're being traced now, but it's been—sorry, sir—nearly an hour since they discovered Mr. Vullerman's absence. They could be hundreds of miles away by now. According to, ah, Mr. Rolvo, it was likely that they had a cloaked jet waiting to take them wherever they're going."

"The man—do we have anything on him?"

"N-no, sir. He evaded all of our cameras and we never got a clear shot of his face."

Brownbarr swore under his breath. "This'll make things harder for us. Zoom back out."

Mothinghotch obeyed. Brownbarr narrowed his eyes, gazing at the man. Who was he? Why would he abduct an ASP agent?

He, or his superior, was obviously behind the death threats. But why kidnap the man before killing him?

Wait. He focused on the man's wrist. There was something there, but he couldn't make it out. "Zoom in on the man's wrist, Mothinghotch."

The image grew until the man's hand and wrist filled the screen. The man's sleeve had hiked up a bit, revealing a wooden bracelet that was scarcely two centimeters thick. Letters burned into the bracelet spelled out "AAA".

"Get our best intelligence officers researching that bracelet and those initials," Brownbarr snapped. "I want it done yesterday."

"Y-yes, sir!" Mothinghotch fled out the door.

Brownbarr returned his gaze to the screen. That bracelet was the key to the man's identity. Brownbarr was sure of it. And if they could find out who that man was and who he was working for, there could still be time to save Vullerman's life.

************

Will opened his eyes to a world of blue.

His gaze focused for a moment. Streaks of white marred the clear sapphire. He blinked. No, they were clouds. And the sun! Will shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out the sun's bright rays.

The sky?

Will sat up from where he lay. Hot sand stuck to the back of his sweaty shirt and rustled beneath his legs. Massive white-yellow sand dunes surrounded him, like a tempestuous sea frozen and painted gold.

A desert? The Sahara, maybe. What in the world was he doing there? It had been several years since he had been in the Sahara—he had been on a mission at the time. It looked exactly as he remembered it.

But how did he get there, and who took him?

Will blinked again and tried to stand up, but the world felt like it was shaking underneath his feet. An earthquake? He threw out his arms to steady himself, but he tumbled to the ground, his cheek pressed against the sand.

But the sand was clean-smelling and a little prickly. Something buzzed near his ear.

He pushed himself up to his knees. Grass tickled his legs.

Grass? How in the world was it grassy in the Sahara? Had he stumbled into an oasis?

He stood up. Grass stretched in every direction, as far as he could see. The same blue sky that he had seen in North Africa loomed over the emerald land like a protective blanket.

Will stumbled forward. His eyesight blurred, and he shook his head, trying to clear his vision. Nausea roiled in his stomach.

He focused again. More grass. Green and blue kissed on the horizon.

Kansas territory. It had to be. He'd know it if he saw it in black-and-white.

But he didn't have on a nuke suit. Was that why he felt nauseous? Will tried to recall how low levels of radiation affected the human body, but nothing came to mind. How long did it take for the nuclear exposure to become fatal?

And how did he get from his house to the Sahara to America? What in the world was going on?

************

"Director Brownbarr, sir?" Mothinghotch poked his head into Brownbarr's office. "Mr. Rolvo from intelligence would like to speak with you, sir. He's found some information about the identity of the man that kidnapped Mr. Will Vullerman. He's just outside."

"Good." Brownbarr set down the folder on his antique mahogany desk. "Send him in."

Rolvo, the head of the intelligence unit, entered the office. He was a short, bald man with a wide forehead and deep-set eyes so dark that they looked black. The flesh around his left eye was scarred, locking it in a permanent squint. Two silvery scars ran down his face just to the left of his eye. Brownbarr frowned and tried to remember how Rolvo had gotten that scar. Had it been on his file? It had something to do with a terrorist group in western Europe, but further than that, Brownbarr didn't remember.

"Directah, sah." Rolvo nodded to Brownbarr respectfully. "I've got news on this charactah you've given us to resea'ch."

Brownbarr gestured with one hand. "Spit it out."

Rolvo set several full-color reports on Brownbarr's desk. "We've analyzed the man's complexion, voice tone, and especially the type of bracelet he wore. Ah results indicated Middle Eastahn origin. The lettahs on the bracelet were hahder to trace. Once we had indicated the man's descent, howevah, it narrowed ah sea'ch."

Brownbarr leaned forward and frowned. The Middle East, was it? Half the ASP's missions were in the Middle East. It had never been a peaceful place, so there was always plenty of work to do there.

"We managed to hack into the Persian mainframe, howevah," Rolvo continued, "and traced some coded files that contained the acronym found on that bracelet. We broke into the files and discovered top-secret resea'ch. AAA, according to that report, was the acronym taken on by a group of Eastahn activists, which means Arabs Against Americans."

"How ironic that they named their organization in English."

Rolvo shrugged. "They claim to be a remnant of the old anti-American groups that annihilated America back in the eahly twenty-second century. The report also mentioned that the group sees themselves as God's judgment on the wickedness of the Americans. Since the Americans are back, sah, you can well imagine what their goal is now."

Brownbarr grimaced. "Extermination. So it looks like the ASP aren't the only ones that know how to hack. One way or another, they've traced the America mission back to Vullerman."

"Exactly. And by taking Mr. Vullahman, they're warning the ASP to stay out of theh business."

"But we won't," Brownbarr growled. "This AAA is a violation of international law, and making sure the international law is followed is exactly why the ASP was created." Brownbarr stood. "Keep your researchers and hackers on the job. Try to discover more about this group and their possible whereabouts. And search for information about a ring that knocks people out. If it was a temporary knock-out, then Vullerman might escape."

"Escape?" Rolvo raised an eyebrow.

"He
is
our top operative. He's got himself out of scrapes before."

"All right, sah. Will do." Rolvo turned and strode out of the office. Brownbarr stood, rounded his desk, and followed him. He had some visits to make. If Rolvo could find some lead on AAA's location, then the ASP had to be ready to storm the place.

Brownbarr dug his new comm out of his pocket and stuck the earpiece in his ear. It was a Voltage 2170, rather bulky and far from high-tech, but the simple hardware had allowed ASP technicians to upgrade the security system. "Comm, relay a message to all active ASP operatives."

"Now recording," said the comm.

Brownbarr paused for a moment, and then spoke. "All ASP operatives on alert. Please stand by for further information. We have a code yellow situation and all operatives must be equipped and ready to move out at short notice. Love, the Director of the ASP, Danton Brownbarr."

"Sarcasm detected," his comm said. "Erase?"

Brownbarr chuckled. "No, send it."

There was a beep. "Message sent."

************

Will breathed deeply, and his stomach settled. The air tasted just as he remembered, clear and fresh, but it smelled oddly...metallic? He couldn't place the scent. It was something just barely out of place, tickling the back of his mind.

Will's vision cleared, and he gazed at his surroundings, confirming what he had suspected. It was a picture-perfect image of the Kansas he had explored a few weeks ago on the America mission. It was not unlike the Sahara in some ways; the rolling hills reminded Will of a stormy ocean, a bed of vibrant emeralds.

So he was in America. He took in another deep breath and tried to clear his mind. He had been trained for stressful situations. He could do this.

The last thing he remembered before blacking out was putting the ring on. The man had done something to him, obviously. But what? Had the ring made him hallucinate?

The ring! He raised his hand and squinted. There, on his little finger, was the iron ring. Will felt it, but to his surprise, he didn't feel anything where the ring was supposed to be—just his own finger. It was like the ring wasn't even there—a hologram or illusion.

Will swallowed hard. So he couldn't get the ring off and end this situation.

All right, so he was in a hostile situation. Never mind where he was; where was he going? Was there a way to transport himself, like what happened when he went from the Sahara to Kansas?

Will frowned. He didn't remember doing anything to make himself go to Kansas, so he crossed out that possibility.

The only thing he could do was wait. If someone had transported him to Kansas, then they'd make an appearance soon enough. "Good things come to those who wait," as Will's grandpa used to say.

He might as well explore while he was at it. Maybe he could find something to help explain this situation. Will took a step forward, but a familiar male voice from behind stopped him.

"Is that you, Will?"

Will turned around, and what he saw threw his training out the window.

"Grandpa?" he whispered.

************

"Directah Brownbah!"

Brownbarr turned from the agent he was speaking to and spotted Rolvo fast-walking down the hallway. "What is it, Rolvo?"

Rolvo, sweat glistening on his bald head despite the cool air conditioning, gestured down the hall. "If you'll come to intelligence, sah, we have news on the ring that incapacitated Mr. Vullahman."

Brownbarr followed Rolvo down the hall into the intelligence department's main room, which was one of the largest centers in the entire facility. Rows of seats, monitors, and back-to-back touchpads covered the room and grew up from the floor like weeds. People swarmed it all, working on computers with noise-isolating headsets, examining the monitors, or simply standing around and talking. ASP badges flashed everywhere as men moved about the room. Shouts filled the air.

"I've got a lead in the Persian sector!"

"Agent Batton to section three, please! Batton, get over here!"

"I'm in the Israeli mainframe. Stand by for alert deactivation."

Screens covered nearly every open space, and an especially large one was mounted high on the far wall, depicting a massive map of the world.

The United Republic of Africa States filled much of the northern half of Africa. Farther south there were more African republics, such as South Africa, the Congo, Tanzania, and others. In the far east loomed China and various east Asian countries; the Middle East was sharply divided into smaller countries, the biggest of which was Persia. In Europe, many of the smaller countries were marked over with a label titled "The European Confederation [EC]". To the far west, North America was blank. The Rift, a trans-oceanic rip in the Americas, divided North America and South America. South America was a patchwork quilt of countries, but Brazil filled much of its eastern half.

Rolvo's voice jolted Brownbarr from his study of the map. "Directah, sah!" Brownbarr glanced over in the direction of the voice; Rolvo was already at one of the monitors, flashing through icons and punching in passwords with one hand. Brownbarr approached him and studied the screen. Words and pictures streamed across the high-def monitor. Several photos depicted an iron ring identical to the one Vullerman had put on.