CHAPTER 5
A beautiful beach, filled with early sun-worshippers, graced the early morning sun. Lean and tone men and women of all ages were lying on blankets spread out on the warm sands, or jogging on the hard sand close to the surf line. Large waves breaking on the beach dissuaded all but the hard-core swimmers to stay ashore. But the balmy morning temperature was beautiful for anyone looking to soak up some sun before the start of the day. Lifeguards paced through the light crowd, greeting familiar faces and keeping on eye on the water. One guard shaded her eyes and noted that a few surfers were taking advantage of the large swells. Two surfers got bent but the rescue boat was already heading out for them. She shielded her eyes and saw a honey a little farther up the beach in shallow waves. She was hot-doggin' her way to shore, and was doing a pretty bitching job of it too. Seeing her reach the shore with style, she turned away and watched a few swimmers that might need attention.
The dark-complexioned, dark haired woman grabbed her board and made her way over to one of the expensive houses lining the beachfront. Turning on a water outlet by the rear steps, she washed herself down, squeezing as much salt water out of her hair as possible. Throwing her head back, she let water splash over her face and reveled in the feeling of a good surf on a beautiful morning.
Carrie tugged down on the helm of her long-sleeved white shirt as she breezed into the bedroom. She could hear the shrill electronic ring of her cell phone.
"How long has this been ringing?" she asked, bending over to extract the phone from the pocket of her coat.
"Forever," a naked blonde woman answered from her bed. She sat up, blinking sleepily at Carrie, a slight smile on her face.
"Rivai," Carrie answered, glancing at the women in her bed and smiling a little. However, as she listened, the smile slowly disappeared and her face became grave with dread.
"How long ago did this happen?" she demanded. "Okay, I'm on my way."
"I didn't expect breakfast in bed," said the attractive blonde in bed in a nice voice. "But I didn't think you'd run out on me."
Carrie hung up and smiled at her. "Sorry, work emergency. Look, there's food in the fridge. Get some sun, lay around, whatever. Just lock up when you leave, okay?"
The blonde looked a little concerned. "Aren't you a little worried about leaving a total stranger that you met last night in your house?"
Carrie fished out her Federal Service handgun from its holster, cranked back the slide, and chambered a live round.
KER-CHAK!
She flicked on the safety and put it back into her holster.
"Not really," she said, answering the blonde's surprised look. "See ya!"
The attractive blonde woman rolled her eyes and flopped back onto the comfortable bed. Of all attractive girls she had to go to bed with, she had to pick a police officer! She was desperate for a good relationship, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to go there…
Carrie breezed into the bustling corridors of the FBI building. She saw her 'partner' Kevin Pratt, self-proclaimed 'dashingly handsome and charming young man' gabbing with another agent. She walked by them, hoping against all hope that Kevin missed her. Running feet that caught up to her burst that bubble dream.
"Carrie Rivai, apple of my eye," he sang, keeping up with her. "Donni Lee is jonsing to see you. What's the crisis?"
Carrie walked briskly, but he kept up. "I'm needed in the Fish Bowl."
"Ooooooo….the Fish Bowl. How cool!" he exclaimed. "Can I come?"
Carrie punched the button for the elevator. "No."
The Fish Bowl was a special security briefing room deep inside the FBI building. It was a room within a room, and was suspended in space surrounded by physical and electronic anti-eavesdropping devices. Anything said inside was virtually impossible to overhear.
The elevator arrived and Carrie stepped in. Kevin jumped in beside her. Carrie punched the button for the floor and the doors closed. She turned to Kevin. "What is your problem?"
"Awwww, c'mon Carrie? Just a little hint? A tiny hint? A tidbit?" he dug, smiling his famous smile. There was a pretty substantial claim going around about Kevin and a number of female FBI agents, but she never cared to look into it. That smile never affected her, thank goodness…
"Kevin. Let me explain this to you in a simple manner so that even you can understand. It is for one, classified, and for two, it is need to know."
"But you know," he said.
She sighed, exasperated with her new partner. Thankfully, the doors opened, allowing her to march out of the elevator and to the entrance of the Bubble Room. Two marines in Extra Large size guarded the doors.
"ID please," one requested. Carrie unclipped her ID and handed it to a guard. He examined it closely, looked at her, then looked at the badge. The other consulted a list and had her sign. Then he scanned her entire body with an electronic device. "You're clean. Please proceed."
"Thank you," the other marine said and handed her ID back to her. The other opened the door. Carrie proceeded in, but was stopped when a hand grabbed her arm violently. She turned around to see her partner grappling with the two large marines.
"Hey, HEY! I'm with her! C'mon guys!'
"Sir, you are not on the list. Please leave now!"
"No! Carrie! Tell them. I'm with you…hey, leggo of that!"
Carrie smirked. "I've never seen this Agent before."
The other marine grabbed Kevin and manhandled him away from her. "Aw, c'mon Carrie! Don't be like that! Leggo you big gorilla…uh, uh…some people think gorillas are cool…oh shit…"
She turned around and let the doors close behind her. She entered the conference room. Most of the seats were taken by high-ranking FBI agents. At the head of the table sat three prominent figures: the Director of the FBI, General Swartz, and White House Secretary of Defense.
The Director nodded at her. "Nice of you to show up, Special Agent Rivai."
She took the closest seat. "Sorry Sir, but it was my day off, and I was surfing."
An Agent across the table glared at her, but the Director gave her an indulging smile.
"Let's get down to business, shall we?" Secretary of Defense Mason said from beside him. "Time is of the essence."
He passed out folders that made their way around the table. "During the Gulf war, the military realized that there were far too many casualties resulting from missed targets, improperly identified targets and Blue-on-Blue situations. This has been reinforced by the Iraq war. These mistakes were committed by missiles, bombers, air strikes, all manner of military attack. Long-standing analysis shows that, as long as humans are involved in fire missions, there will be errors resulting in wrongful deaths. Thus, the Prometheus project."
Mason held up a photograph. Carrie looked at an identical photo in her file. It showed a large ground installation and a satellite in orbit. Both were labeled 'Prometheus'.
"Prometheus was conceived and design in the interests of implementing extremely complex but accurate computer guidance in all military weapons. However, as development continued, we realized that it could be easily used by civilians. One excellent example is airplanes. Airplanes becoming disorientated lost or colliding with other airplanes will become a thing of the past. The processing power behind Prometheus is nothing the world has ever seen. It can control airplanes, direct military units, and guide any missile equipped to interact with Prometheus. Friendly fire, which has plagued military engagements for centuries, will become a thing of the past. Detection of intercontinental missiles can be instantly detected and interception solutions calculated at unprecedented speeds with pinpoint accuracy."
He turned to another page and everyone followed. "Prometheus is ready for activation. All that's needed to be done is sent the uplink codes to activate the chain of satellites in space. The encryption codes were developed by a man named Charles Gainman. That is his most recent picture. The codes are revolutionary in that they are a revolving algorithm so complex a series of supercomputers would take months to crack them. Unfortunately, as of last night, he and the codes went missing."
Mason turned to the final page. "As of last night, as best as we can guess, his safe house was attacked around 0400hrs last night. All the guards were killed. All hard drives missing and a car is also missing from the residence."
"Sir," an FBI agent interrupted.
"Agent Johnson," the Director replied. "You have something to ask?"
"Yes Sir," he answered. "Why is the FBI involved? The jurisdiction seems military."
"We are involved because the FBI also has a tie to Dr. Grainman. Special Agent Rivai has been working with Dr. Grainman on a Federal Project."
"What?" Johnson darkly replied. "So, she is responsible for all the people killed?"
Carrie's face tightened. She hated Special Agent Johnson. He had been on her case since day one. He had always questioned her, grilled her on procedures, and while other training agents would let them go, he had her written up on the smallest of mistakes so that her record was thick with infractions, however negligible they were. He had been the underlying cause of her attempts to quit the FBI multiple times, but through fellow coworkers, she had slaved and bulled her way through the nightmare he made her life to be. She had worked so hard, gone the extra mile with nearly every one of her investigations, and where others would praise her for her hard work, he had found every minor mistake, every error that costed the Bureau just a little more money, and had made sure her advancement was accomplished at a snail's pace. A lot of people kissed Johnson's ass. She refused to give him the time of day. And she had paid for it.
Some days she was tempted to shoot him.
"She worked in conjunction with the Pentagon to provide security. It was her idea to base his operations outside the Pentagon and use anonymity as the best security. It seemed to work…until last night," the Director replied.
"And that was what got them killed. Basing such a nationally important project outside of the Pentagon's considerable and competent security was a monumental mistake. I think Agent Rivai has much to answer for," Johnson stated in a cold voice.
Mason voice cut through his tirade. "Enough Agent Johnson. Special Agent Rivai is not at fault. In fact, it turned out that having the project concealed outside the Pentagon was a boon in its favour. The leak came from inside the Pentagon. In fact, we know who provided the leak, as well as certain enemy agents that have been working to uncover Prometheus inside the Pentagon. Had the project stayed within its walls, it would have been discovered far earlier."
The statement fell on Johnson with little effect. He continued to glare at Carrie. She glared right back. She wasn't sure what made him madder: that she never, ever kissed his ass like everyone else, or that she had stayed in the FBI and made Special Agent despite the huge number of red tickets in her file. Her hand itched for her gun.
"Which is where we come in," the Director stated. "Each of you will be in charge a squad with the purpose of retrieving the codes, Charles Grainman, as well as his missing vehicle."
"I'm a little confused," said another agent. "If we find the car, won't we find Dr. Grainman as well? Didn't he use the car to escape?"
"No," Mason responded. "We have excellent reason to believe that Charles and the car went separate ways."
"Wait a sec," the agent responded. "The car?"
"Excellent question," Mason said. He turned to the last page in the folder. "In the early 1980's, Charles Grainman assisted a man named Wilton Knight in designing one of the most advanced neural net Artificial Intelligences ever conceived. He placed this intelligence into a specially modified vehicle that contained a host of electronic surveillance that was incredibly advanced in its present time. Coupled with an ex-police officer whom possessed military training, Wilton established the Foundation for Law and Government (FLAG), which was a special investigative legal branch of Knight Industries. FLAG established an unprecedented record for cracking cases that had police agencies stymied and bringing to justice some of the worst criminals of their time. The combination of a human operator who possessed excellent investigative skill, coupled with an AI, has been a complete success."
The Director took over. "By the year 2000, FLAG had become a target for both criminal organizations and the government alike. The FBI in particular desperately wanted to know how the Foundation was setting an arrest record that no agency could come close to touching. On the other hand, criminal organizations had become extremely concerned as well. Even the most hardened criminals, the most organized groups, were not safe from FLAG. FLAG's ability to unravel criminal elements were, to say the least, scary. A crack investigative ex-police officer, with a partner that was bulletproof and armed with the most sophisticated of ECM electronics was damn near unbeatable. No criminal was safe – as FLAG proved time and time again. Which led to a cooperative attempt by multiple prominent criminal organizations to destroy FLAG. FLAG was forced to disband, but not before Devon Miles, the head representative of FLAG, was assassinated. The rest of FLAG fled underground and disappeared. None have resurfaced."
He placed his arms on the table and folded his hands. "The FBI has long since been interested in testing a pilot project of our own. In order to do so, we needed an AI and another surveillance vehicle built for our use. We were able to find one of the scientists chiefly responsible for assisting Wilton Knight in building the Knight Industries Two Thousand. His name is Charles Grainman. We believe that Grainman was nearing completion on the Knight Industries Three Thousand when he was attacked. We also believe that the AI is advanced enough to possess the codes for Prometheus."
Reaching to his side, he passed out individual folders. "Therefore, each of you will take a squad and search for Grainman, the car, and investigate his house for clues to the attackers. Sarah, because of your familiarity, you will investigate Grainman's house and track Grainman. Johnson, there has been a report of a shooting at Stanford University. Students reported multiple gunmen shooting at a speeding car on campus and the bullets bouncing off it. Manuel, you will work with the Pentagon to investigate the murders of the guards and trace the people responsible."
"Sir," Johnson interrupted again. "I would like to lead the investigation for Dr. Charles Grainman. If I understand this correctly, he is the key to Prometheus. The most senior agent should be put in charge of this investigation."
The Director shook his head. "On any other day, that would be the protocol. However, Special Agent Rivai has been his contact, and she is most familiar with him. Considering that he is on the run and is most likely in a state of paranoia, it would be most prudent for her to remain his contact."
Johnson shook his head. "I disagree, sir. I believe an Agent of more experience should -"
"Denied Johnson. That's an order."
"Yes, sir."
Mason stood and everyone else followed suit. "People, I cannot stress the importance of this mission. We MUST retrieve the Prometheus codes. Should those codes fall into the wrong hands, the consequences could mean the end of the world. Anyone who gains control of Prometheus gains control of anything electronically guided, including satellites that detect nuclear launches as well as those that guard our borders. The Pentagon, military intelligence, as well as the NSA are working full time on this one. We need your help and we need it now. Good luck."
As she exited the room, Special Agent Johnson sidled up to her. "You will contact me with every development. You will not proceed unless I okay your plan. Are we clear?"
She turned to him and smiled sweetly. "Don't you have some Junior Agent to go harass…Bill?"
His face became stormy and he turned to the Director. "I need to speak to you."
"Not now Johnson. You'd better get to Stanford."
Johnson stormed past Carrie and headed for the elevators.
"Asshole," she muttered.
"Excuse me?" the Director said, making her jump. She sheepishly turned around to see him standing behind her.
"Um, nothing Sir."
"I see," he replied, clearly ignoring what she had just said. "Good luck Rivai."
"Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir," she replied, just as her partner ran up, a goofy grin on his face and sporting a blackening eye. He grabbed her arm and she shook him loose.
"So, so?? Where are we going?"
Carrie's gun hand really itched.
