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2300 Berlin Germany: 010610
The darkness crawled around him. The still night summer air combined with no moon tonight made for ideal sneaking conditions. The three black clad figures crept along the garden wall behind the University of Berlin Astronomical Center. Xerox in the lead and Lambeck just behind him, scratching his temple with the chrome plated .44Mag as usual.
There were some things you could make, this was one of them. The only problem was that the time it would take to build what he needed was too long for the project. The high precision six axis machines here at the UBAC were among the most accurate in the world. They machined steel or any other metal to a smoothness and thus reflectiveness equal to a mirror. Except on the microscopic level, it was hundreds and thousands of times more smooth. This was precisely what Takuan required for their project.
As they rounded the corner to the back of the building they came to the loading docks. Where all nefarious activity went on. Xerox drew his pair of smart-linked air-powered revolvers. Smart-links allowed the user to control his weapon with his mind. The ammo capacity and point of aim were displayed on his eye, the magazine could be ejected with a thought, as could the fire mode. That is usually only done to an automatic, because there is no safety on a revolver or a magazine. But these were special guns. Lambeck had made them. Both had an air cylinder mounted underneath the barrel lug that could spin the cylinder to bring a chosen round into the chamber. These were also ten shot .357 Magnums specially built by Lambeck. Loaded with a combination of High explosive, armor piercing and hollow point rounds, they were also silent, using the experimental ammo that had a diaphragm of copper that reversed itself and thus trapped all the gas in the casing where it could bleed off slowly. Just like the kind of ammo used by Tunnel Rats in Viet Nam. The lasers sights and barrel sensors allowed him first shot accuracy and the guns also had muzzle suppressers to reduce the muzzle blast/flash at night. Hopefully they wouldn't need that kind of firepower, but Takuan wasn't in the mood for letting his two ops take any chances.
Xerox signaled that it was all clear as they came up to the door. Greerson radioed that the grounds were clear and the last janitor had left thirty minutes ago. Lambeck stepped around his big (dumb) friend and let his Cystron hang at his side for a moment. He assembled a Snap-and-go sensor from the junk off his vest and tested the door for sensors. Finding some, he then set up a jammer and picked the lock. Once inside they just located the device the needed and began packing it up on crates for transport. Lambeck took a neat book on the shelf. Then Takuan just jacked into the trucks driving rig, back it in mentally, and loaded up.
There. One part down, eight to go.
0000 Over the Atlantic: 010611
After leaving Berlin they were headed back to New York in a rented MC-130 courtesy of the First Air Wing Special Forces Command Germany. The manufacturing and grinding equipment from the UBAC was tied down in back under Lambeck's watchful eye. He sat on one of the crates doing something on his Cystron, itching his temple with the .44Mag revolver.
The whole team was sitting around performing after-action cleanup. The back 9.5 tenths of the C-130's cargo area was taken up by either the electronic jamming equipment the bird normally carried or the thirty tons of crates with the UBAC's high precision fabricating equipment. Xerox was cleaning all nine of his Berettas, the two heavy .357Mag Smart-link revolvers, and the chain gattling carbine. Takuan was de-blacking his Katana and nickel-plated .45 Colt revolver, while he typed away some report or another on his Cystron that he had networked with his laptop. Greerson had already cleaned both of his sniper rifles and was checking and reloading his ammo. Lambeck, as usual, was doing something on the Cystron and itching his temple as previously mentioned.
Over the drone of the planes engines he shouted, "Hey Takuan, why we taking this slow beast. If you'd let me super charge the engines with those spare parts from F-16's I found, we'da been there all ready." -- "Yeah right geek," Takuan easily answered with an Everest proportion of self-confidence. "This project is too important for," he looked down at his laptop and tapped a few of the keys "the 28.7% chance that your engine modifications would have resulted in us plummeting into the Atlantic at terminal velocity of 209 mph." Lambeck almost looked impressed for a second.
"Wut you say?" Xerox cut it. -- "I'm saying," Takuan continued, "that despite... that even if Lambeck had been meticulous... careful with his modifications... changes we still could have crashed. That would be bad big boy." Takuan gauged the Combat Op, he liked him, but really hated lowering his vocabulary for the lug.
The stocky man riding along with them stroked his beard and sat back in the canvas chair the USAF had generously provided. Then he asked, "What exactly is in all the crates that is so important you want the best long range marksman on earth for, but don't let him fire a shot?" Greerson was wearing the black IR damping molted BDUs the rest of them were.
Takuan looked him from heat to foot. The rest of the team was as quiet as a mouse and were it not for the really loud engines you could hear a pin drop. As Takuan finished appraising Greerson he said in a tone utterly devoid of doubt and fear, "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
1300 New York: 010611
Driving through the docks section of the New York City Piers, there was a lot to see. Bums, bums, alkies, drug dealers, pushers, pimps, and prostitutes. What a great city. Rolling ungracefully over potholes they were headed towards the Saint Adams, a Brazilian cargo vessel that also flew under the American flag. One of the precious ISO units wouldn't make it to Brazil.
This early in the morning things would be risky, and given the perfect weather conditions outside (98 deg. F and sunny - not a cloud in the sky) it gave them no advantages. Other than supreme skill and the undying desire to win. Takuan and Lambeck were in the car. Both were dressed in jeans, old flannels and heavy work boots, they had chook caps in their pockets, but this time of year you didn't need them. They concealed as best they could their utility belts, Sap pistols, and extra magazines.
"Green leader, I have you approaching the target. ETA 43 seconds," Greerson's voice came over the radio. "Twelve persons onboard. Negative signs of Xerox." -- "Don't worry," Lambeck said, "he'll be there." Lambeck looked over at Takuan and gave him a reassuring smile. Takuan gave him an icy stare that said he better be right and the Combat op better drop off the gear where they needed it.
Swiming against the brisk current in the Bronx river was a definite workout. The current was almost 1.5 knots. The most any swimmer on earth could fight was 2 knots. It was just a law of nature. The strong current and the lack of high buildings or cranes within two miles of the St. Adams made it a very hard target to penetrate. "Goddamn Squealer, givin me da hard jobz," he mumbled into his mouthpiece. That the water tasted like shit, oh wait, it was shit.. didn't make swimming any easier. carrying three hundred pounds of gear wasn't that easy either.
Underneath the keel of the cargo vessel Xerox placed the last limpet charge. All four were along the keel and with them all instant fused together, this boat was a cracked nut as far as he was concerned. Now that he'd deposited the eight hundred pounds of explosives on the keel his load was down to three hundred pounds. Whew, I'm tired. Sweating and shitting all over himself he'd been in the water nearly six hours. He'd gone through three oxygen tanks and was on his fourth. He'd had to swim all over hell's half-acre to bring the charges back and forth from the underwater depot he'd set up. But now it was onto the fun stuff. He'd already dropped off the team's gear where they needed it; Greerson probably hadn't even seen him. Maybe I'll go up and radio Takuan and tell him. Yeah better do that, he thought to himself.
"Xerox here. Supplies in position. Out." Short and simple and in Japanese so the listeners on board the ship wouldn't understand it even if they could de-scramble it.
Lambeck shot Takuan a 'Nah nah nah nah, nah' look as they wheeled their car the last hundred yards to the pier the St. Adams was on. Both got out and began walking towards the gang plank. The St. Adams was big ship. A five hundred footer and probably in the tens of thousands of tons Lambeck figured. He was too busy doing a quadratic revolution volume integration to determine the exact class and model. Takuan hung back about five paces and carried both their sea duffels he'd gotten out of the trunk. Lambeck carried just a clipboard, which carried their false maritime merchants crew papers for this cargo ship.
All over the ships deck containers were piled four high. These weren't little containers either. They were the big kind, the size of semi trailers. In three groups each twenty long there were thousands of them on the ship. One to ten of them had what they wanted. "This could get messy," Lambeck radioed Takuan subvocally.
"Well if it does, just try not to kill too many." He switched channels to Greerson, "What you got G Dog?" he said in his best Yonkers accent. -- "Just the normal deck crew. Flux between twelve and twenty on deck at any one time. Eight to twenty bridge crew. Engine room sounds like there are fifteen down there, plus the steward crew." -- "How many hatches to the deck?" -- "Ten." -- "Can you cover them all?" -- "Does a squealer not let techies nave cool new gadgets??" Greerson replied with a real edge. -- "Ok, you better."
In the murky water Xerox began unpacking his gear. He changed into his Monocrys suit and suited back up in his load bearing equipment. He holstered all his weapons and lung the rest. He checked the pins on all his grenades and cinched the straps on his knives and radio gear.
His mission was to wait at the edge of the ship and be ready to give them the tactical advantage they needed to overcome unforeseen obstacles. In Xerox-ese that meant hide and kill any surprises. No matter what the surprise was he had to kill it so he unpacked his two auto shotguns and checked the ammo just in case. With the BOHICA factor so high on this mission he rigged some quick breaching charges and spaced them 20 feet apart along the ships edge, just below the waterline. When the ship began to list to one side he would have the advantage of a superior dexterity, where others would stumble and fall. Now armed with the supreme knowledge that he would over come all threat and conquer all adversaries no matter what, he patiently waited in the water contemplating how to do get it all done before he died.
Takuan and Lambeck walked up to the receiving office at the foot of the gang plank. There were perhaps two dozen other cars parked around the lot, probably more of the crew. Two sea-dogs came walking out of the office and headed up the gang plank. At the top they saw a guard, rent-a-cop that is, standing laxadazically.
As they got to the office door, Lambeck opened it for Takuan who once he was inside unshouldered his burdens and slumped the duffels on the floor. The pair of XM-8 Auto Shotguns inside didn't rattle thankfully. There was a short line they had to wait in to get their union paperwork filled out. "Lemme see you job sheets," the middle aged lady at the desk asked. Lambeck handed over both their paperwork on the clipboard without a word. About ten forms later they were signed on as crew and were given their quarters without even saying a word.
Back outside Takuan was again carrying the duffels and they headed up the gang plank. At the top they both stopped and looked around. What Takuan and Lambeck both instantly noticed was not good. One of the cargo containers was full of people pods, as they had come to think of them. Ian from Team 203 had told them about these, and that meant this was very bad. The equipment they needed was on a ship with Gray body pods? Coincidence?? Lambeck would believe anything, but Takuan definitely saw this as above bad.
After their momentary revelation the guard stopped them and said in Portuguese, "What is the dogs favorite left over?" Oh shit!! Lambeck was thinking. Whats Takuan going to do? Over his implant communicator came Takuan's voice, "Codeword at guard. Gray pods located. Take prisoners. Weapons free. Now." And just as he finished his hand slipped behind his back and high up on his hip drew the Sap autopistol. His other hand snapped on a suppresser. The guard tried to disarm him of his weapon but only made himself more vulnerable to Takuan. Tak grabbed him and hugged him while he pressed the muzzle to his heart and held the trigger. The weapon barked three times and the guard's eyes went lifeless.
Lambeck drew the pistol and snapped on the suppresser in a somewhat less graceful motion, but none the less got it done. Over the side, Xerox clenched the magnetic grips in his hands. Hand over hand, using just his massive latisimus dorsi and trapezius muscles, he hauled his 275 lb. self, 300 lb. of gear, and 100 lb. of water up the forty feet of ship side and over onto the deck. Just as Takuan had dropped the three nearest crew with shots to the torso, he cleared the rail and was on deck. Odds are they would live, the team had ball ammo. It would put big holes in people, but not as big as hollow point, usually.
With immediate threats removed, Takuan turned to his duffel and withdrew the two shotguns. As Lambeck started jogging to the superstructure Takuan was sitting up the bodies. Then Takuan ran to catch up to him. At the main starboard hatch, he handed a shotgun to Lambeck who was waiting. "Nice work boss," the geek grinned and scratched his temple with the suppressers end. "Yeah, shut up geek," he answered with a loving tone that told Lambeck his was still his #1 squeeze. Takuan then grabbed the handle and opened the hatch. Takuan was through in a flash. He darted through the corridors instinctively taking the right turns as he headed for communications. Having both memorized the layout of the ship they were well on their way to their separate goals. Takuan got to the bridge first and with eight shots from the Sap he had concluded its effective lifetime. "Bridge secure," he called over the radio.
"Targets coming up on deck," Greerson called. -- "Suppress them," Takuan replied. He looked out the bridge glass and saw rifle bullet strikes near one of the hatches, then near one of the crew members as he headed for cover. Satisfied with Greerson's work he began to search the bridge.
Down below Lambeck had just put on his balaclava and pushed open the door to communications. Five technicians were inside. He jabbed the gun in the nearest's face. "UP!!! Back against the wall. Face it. Hands behind your back," he bellowed. As he pushed the hatch closed behind him he reached into his waistline and drew out five cinch-strap handcuffs and threw it at them. "Put those on," and each complied. "Now lay down on the ground," and once they all had he taped their ankles with duct tape. With them subdued he set five computer boards on the radio desks and plugged them in. The radios were smoking seconds later and then he left. "Radio's quiet," he called over the radio as he headed towards the captain's quarters.
"Roger. On my way to birds nest," Xerox called. He'd gone over the side and moved towards the port side hatch on the superstructure. Clearing out the crew quarters was easy work with a club in each hand. Knocking out each crewmember was easy work until he got to the last room. As he pushed open the hatch he recognized the distinctive sound of an AK-47 firing. Five rounds slammed into his chest and he jumped back into the hallway. Now he was mad. As he drew a .45 SMG he tossed a distraction device into the room. The stun grenade detonated with a 210 dB blast and a 2 million candle power flash. His roll through the door pushed it open and he saw three or four shapes in the room. Holding down the trigger and emptying all thirty rounds in his magazine, he dragged the path of the bullets through the bodies of his enemies. As the action locked open, his huge muscular arms flexing under the recoil of the firing, released one hand and instinctively flipped over the magazine and inserted the other that was taped to the first.
As he stood up and checked each body for a pulse he noticed they were all Chinese. That was odd, this was a Brazilian Ship. They also weren't using AK-47's but the Chinese copies. As he rolled over the two closest to the door he noticed tattoos on their arms: A Chinese character and a trident with a crest on it. Ah, Chinese Naval Commandos, the chink version of the SEALs. As he looked at the heavy cabinets in the room he noticed they were fireproof, watertight document safes. They must have something important, he thought. "Tak, down in crew quarters, cabin 18B. Important. Come down here noow."
Up on the bridge Takuan heard him on the radio but couldn't take his eyes off the dance that was being performed on the deck. Crewmembers tried to get on deck, but Greerson just kept them pinned down, sometimes wounding one in the shoulder of the calf, to slow down three or four of his buddies. But if a team member called he had to go. After shooting three of the crew on the way down he made it to 18B. Inside Xerox was perched watching the door. "What you got grunt?" he asked. "Look fo yur self," he said in a thick Austrian accent. Takuan walked over to the document safe that Xerox had opened. Inside were documents coded as Top Secret US government files. Some were Classified, but most were Top Secret, that country's highest rating. Glancing through them there were for project OVERLORD, the country's equivalent to the much more advanced God Box he used. Why the Chinese had these he didn't know, but the next folders were even more interesting.
Two full drawers were packed with information that 203 had labeled as Alien Cloning. Apparently some kind of genetic milkshake intended to mix Alien DNA with human DNA and give it one more base pair for a total of six bases. This would explain why the body pods were on the ship, but not why the Chinese had it. Well, this was something to pass onto O-Team 203. "OK, clear out. Continue to your objective." Xerox nodded and blasted out the door.
"Lime Leopard come in," he called through his medium range communicator. -- "Lime Leopard here, over," the wacky helo pilot replied. -- "Bring in the HH-53 for special cargo. CH-47's to begin inbound leg for pickup of cargoes at half-minute intervals. Prepare for pickup. Over." -- "Can do big buddy! Yeee HAW!! chkkk" he cried over the radio then added fake static just to piss off Takuan.
"Lambeck here at the Cap's quarters. Empty. I repeat empty." -- "Begin sweep of the ship. Use gas." Takuan replied. Back to the problem at hand, Takuan thought. How to get these out the side of the ship. Answer: blow open the side of the ship. He unslung the duffel off his back and pulled out the syntha-web and wire harness. Laying it on the floor he then pushed over the fireproof safes full of the data he wanted onto the harness. Harness was misleading, it was more like a big netting rug. Once all were in it, he connected the corners and the midpoints along the edge with carbiners and rope.
Now that everything was together he just had to blast open the side of the ship, thankfully he was above water. He took out explosive paste and some data sheets (not actually holding data, but explosive sheets of C4) and set up to blast a large hole in the wall. As he set in the fuses, he tugged out the detonators and ran out the door and shut the hatch. There was an ear-splitting boom and the whole ship shook. As he opened the hatch his eyes were met with the bright rays of the sun where previously the glorious rays had been restricted by one small porthole. Now they had an 8' x 8' opening to flood in by.
"Ship gassed," Lambeck called. -- "Good. Take us out to sea," Takuan ordered. -- "Rog-O."
As he walked back in his ears were assaulted as well as his eyes. Not by the blinding sun but by the whoop-whoop-whoop of helicopter blades. Walking to the edge of the ship he looked out and saw an HH-53H Pave Low III belonging to the US Air Force hover in and drop a line. It rocked back and forth to swing the hook into the opening in the ship. Takuan grabbed the hook and secured it to the cargo net with the data safes in it. "Cargo secure. Taker up!" he said into the implant communicator. "Return to Dyantronics Washington, and report," he then ordered the pilot. -- "Will do," replied Lime Leopard.
Under his feet he felt the ships engines power up. Then the ship jerked to life and moved away from the pier. Greerson would come aboard soon, just after Xerox subdues the rest of the deck hands. When they were out to sea they'd put the crew in life rafts, Mem-O-Rize them, and sink this waste of steel and be off with the gear they needed for the Project.
There. Three parts down, eight to go.
1700 Silicon Valley: 010615
This was the last of the eight things on Takuan's shopping list of goodies for the Project. He'd been sending blackmails the whole flight in from their last pickup/rip-off in Tokyo. Having to waste the entire Tokyo Counterterrorism Unit in downtown Tokyo was really a downer Lambeck thought, but doubtless Takuan would come up with a way to cover it up or whip up some believable story. He always did.
Xerox sat in the cargo area of the C-17 on loan from the Military Airlift Command (MAC) and thought about Mr. Murphy. Odds were he'd show up. That was always the odds, but after New York, Moscow and Tokyo; each worse than the last, he just couldn't imagine Mr. Murphy showing up. Then again he didn't have much of an imagination. This was the last stop off before Nevada where they'd assemble it at a Dynatronics facility often referred to as Area 51. They time shared with the Air Force so it wouldn't be hard to land an Air Force plane there.
Everyone sat around in their HALO gear. The top floor of an office building was a tough thing to land on, but Takuan said jump and they all yelled "How high?" So doing a mid-day jump wasn't the best way to remain unseen, but evidently this was important. Takuan and Greerson were to jump onto the next building over and then get to the 37th floor (three from the top) and provide fire support for the top six floor of the next building over. There Lambeck and Xerox would be collecting the necessary chip manufacturing hardware.
Takuan stood up and yelled, "Five minutes. Stand up and let me check you out." Each team member did and he went over everything on them to make sure it wouldn't fall off, break, or not unravel (you want parachutes to do that.) Satisfied with their equipment he had Xerox go over his, not that he trusted him, he didn't; but he didn't trust him the least....
The pilot, Lime Leopard, yelled back, "Thirty seconds. Go on Green!!! Have fun boys!!"
As they stood on the tail ramp as it lowered each thought about something to keep their mind off of the 35,000 foot fall at speeds from 220 mph to 60 mph awaiting them. Lambeck did math puzzles he had memorized in him head, then switched to doing squares of two for as high as he could manage when he remembered he had all the answers to the puzzles memorized too. Xerox thought about burning in and splatting; because that's what he'd be if Mr. Murphy had been packed in with his main and his reserve. Greerson thought about drowning on his own puke, getting frost bite on his nads, or having his visor fog up, just three of the nasties that could happen as they jumped in. Takuan thought about the serenity of the seashore on Okinowa, the surf crashing on the rocks, and waiting for the sunrise in the early morning hours.
The light went green and the shuffled off the ramp as fast as they could and jumped into clear blue sky. Well blue below them and a dark blue or black above them they were so high.
One hour later a Black Cargo Helo made a fast pass over the office building and picked them up without a hitch. Project cargo and all.
2300 Nevada Desert: 010616
Five hours after they were picked up by the Black Cargo Helo they were deposited in the Desert where the C-17 made a rough field landing and picked them up. From there it was on to Area 51 and now twenty-four hours later they were standing before Lambeck's completed project. Takuan had given him the plans as they left San Diego, he said he could build it in twelve hours. Takuan again had been right when he allowed a x2 safety factor and budget double for the geeks time.
Now it was completed. They were seated in it. Gear was all around them just waiting to be unpacked at their destination. Out in the desert they were on the floor of a valley. Camouflage and IR netting hung over the mouth and roof of the valley that was nearly 200' wide.
Lambeck looked over at Takuan with a questioning glance. Xerox piped in, "Is dis contrapshin gonna work little guy??" -- "Shut up and let him work grunt," Takuan snapped, "Operate The Device." Lambeck nodded and flipped the switch.
Outside the cabin everything became very bright. Rays of light swirled around the Project in geometric and normal patterns. Their numbers grew and their orbits began to intersect each other, blocking more and more of the outside world from the crew's view. The web of light then filled in the last bit of space. Everything went black.
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