His hard work had paid off.
Leaning back from the half-crouching, half-kneeling position he'd been stuck in for the last hour and a half, Lieutenant Junior Grade Nathaniel Hayes winced as his lower back muscles protested. Smoothing away any visible signs of discomfort, he gave his commanding officer a discreet glance, hoping Lieutenant Commander Eisler hadn't noticed.
Naturally, he had.
Following the discovery of the fission bomb more than a day earlier, the tactical officer had assumed command of the STAB teams so they could focus on dismantling the weapon for study. Once he had been satisfied that it would not simply detonate, Eisler had ordered the weapon brought aboard Endeavour so he could focus on completely taking it apart. At first, the captain had balked at that idea, but the tactical officer had compromised by suggesting that the weapon be kept in the aft launch bay in the secondary hull; in case of emergency, pressing a single button would open the entire bay to vacuum.
Nate had found himself eager to work alongside Eisler for this task. While the senior tactical officer was mostly incompetent when it came to piloting or engineering, his uncanny talent with explosives of any kind was always fascinating to observe. The fact that he knew how to dismantle a fission bomb of this size was nothing short of extraordinary, especially given the fact that Earth hadn't used them in nearly two hundred years, and Hayes had leaped at the chance to learn at the older man's feet. In Nate's line of work, it was always good to know such things.
Unfortunately, Hayes had quickly discovered that most of the work involved back-breaking manual labor as they slowly – oh, so slowly – disassembled the outer casing of the weapon. Fusion torches were deemed too great a safety risk, so power saws with actual blades instead of lasers were the tools of the day. Once removed, the hull and guidance computers were immediately turned over to Commander T'Pol's science team for study.
The twelve warheads were then carefully removed so that they too could be disassembled. Each was slightly larger than a photonic torpedo, and was equipped with maneuvering rockets as well as an integrated electronic countermeasure suite. The guidance package on each warhead was also surprisingly advanced, apparently capable of identifying bio-signs from orbit. What had initially appeared to be a primitive weapons system was quickly revealing itself to be anything but.
"Lieutenant." Eisler's voice was sharp and abrupt, exactly like the man himself, and Nate glanced up from where he was cutting into the casing of the twelfth warhead. "I need you to take over," the tactical officer stated grimly; he was attempting to extract the neo-polonium neutron trigger from the eleventh warhead. This trigger would initiate the chain reaction that led to fission, and was highly radioactive. "My hand is cramping," Eisler finished as he backed away from the exposed weapon. He was rubbing his gloved right hand and flexing the fingers of that hand at the same time.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Hayes stepped forward and took the lieutenant commander's place before the warhead. Nate stared at the dodecahedron-shaped neutron trigger for a moment, noting instantly that there were a number of slender rods encircling the neo-polonium. If the trigger touched any of these rods, detonation would probably occur. Wishing they had a robotic arm capable of doing this job, Hayes carefully reached for the trigger.
Long moments passed as he slowly extracted the neo-polonium from the casing. He could hear his heart hammering as he willed his hands not to tremble. The slightest error could be fatal, and he still dreamed of dying at an extremely advanced age. His sigh of relief when the neutron trigger was free echoed through the launch bay.
"That was well done," Eisler complimented softly. There was an air about the tactical officer that nearly caused Nate to frown. He could feel the lieutenant commander's eyes on him, as if the older man was studying an animal or a hostile threat that needed to be subdued. Incredibly, Hayes realized that, despite his clear physical and mental superiority to the other man, Eisler frightened him.
And that infuriated him.
"You have some experience dismantling explosives," the tactical officer continued, his tone knowing. The expression on Eisler's face was calm, almost uncaring, but Hayes wasn't fooled. When he glanced at the lieutenant commander, he was abruptly reminded of a cobra, and braced himself for the strike.
"Part of the job description, sir," Nate replied to the unspoken question, a forced smile on his face. He carefully placed the neo-polonium neutron trigger into the containment case and sealed it. With it tucked away, they could turn to removing the conventional explosives and the uranium isotopes still encased within the weapon, thus rendering it completely inert.
"Which job would that be, Lieutenant?" Eisler asked. There was no doubt in the tactical officer's voice as he spoke, and he stood in a deceptively casual stance. Every one of Nate's instincts was screaming that he was in danger, and he licked his lips unconsciously. He knows, Hayes realized.
"I don't understand, sir," he said in an attempt to gain time. His eyes flickered toward the distant door, and he suddenly understood why the tactical officer had requested his assistance on this shift.
"You don't lie well," Eisler retorted, eyes narrowed. "And you're not as careful as you think." Nate frowned slightly at that, wondering what could have given him away. "That's to be expected, though," the lieutenant commander continued, eyes never leaving Hayes' face, "Your kind has a tendency towards arrogance."
"My kind?" Nate knew he was frowning, and tried to hide it. "You mean Canadian?" he asked in as joking a manner as he could, even as he calculated the odds of getting out of this situation without having to resort to violence. They were depressingly slim. He'd sparred with the tactical officer a few times in the past and, even with his reflexes and strength, had found himself unable to defeat the man.
"I mean Augments," the lieutenant commander said coldly. Hayes took a step back instinctively, glowering as Eisler shifted his own position to block the path to the doorway. It was a subtle move, but one that displayed the ex-MACO's absolute confidence in his own abilities. He knew Nate was stronger and faster, yet was unafraid.
"If that's the case," Hayes replied softly, "then I'd have to kill you to keep my secret."
Eisler laughed.
It was a sharp bark of total amusement that sent a jolt of fury surging through Nate's veins. He trembled as he clenched his hands into fists, and grit his teeth against the red tide that thundered through his vision. How dare this pathetic genejoke mock him!
"Better men than you have tried," the tactical officer stated with a cold smile. "And even better Augments as well."
Shock washed through Hayes at those words, and his fury vanished. He stared at the lieutenant commander with wide eyes. As if he knew what Nate was experiencing, Eisler smiled once more.
"Is that what they told you?" he asked. "That you were the only one?" The tactical officer shook his head in slight disgust. "Let me guess," Eisler continued. "Project Achilles? Or was it the Morituri Process? You're not Asian, so it can't be the Chi You Program, and the Shiva Protocols were shut down nearly thirty years ago."
"How do you know all of this?" Nate asked, even as he felt the sharp stab of betrayal. Harris had assured him that the Achilles Project had been a fluke, an illegal government program that hadn't been replicated since or before. Hayes knew about Soong and his Augments, of course, but that had been an isolated incident involving a single individual.
Hadn't it?
"You don't know much about humanity, do you?" Eisler queried. There was no mockery in his voice, and he appeared to have relaxed slightly. "The moment humans discovered that they could tamper with genetics, they started doing exactly that." Contempt was in his voice as he continued. "And kept doing it. Evolution isn't quick enough for some people." The tactical officer paused, once more studying Nate through narrowed eyes. "Including your Mister Harris," Eisler said calmly.
"How do you know that name?" Hayes asked, shock robbing him of coherent thought. Once more, the lieutenant commander smiled; it was eerie seeing him do so, and it sent a shiver up Nate's spine.
"I've encountered your type before," the TAC replied. "Smart, fast, and impossibly strong men or women brainwashed into obeying the Section, or the Bureau, or the Ministry, or whatever acronym they're using to identify themselves now." Eisler frowned. "Eventually, your kind always starts to question why they're obeying instead of commanding, and the kill order is issued."
"Red Sabre," Nate said abruptly, prompting Eisler to narrow his eyes fractionally. "You were a member of the Red Sabre team." Hayes could remember his parents talking about rumors that were circulating about a black ops MACO kill team that no one could actually verify the existence of. Command always denied the team's existence.
"The official designation," Eisler responded softly, "was Special Projects. Red Sabre never existed." There was steel in the tactical officer's voice as he continued. "In my life, I've killed seven Augments working for your ... organization, Lieutenant. Men and women who thought they were better than everyone else, and lost sight of their roles in society." His eyes might as well have been cybernetic implants for all the emotion they revealed. "Harris and his people serve a necessary purpose," the TAC declared. "But they – and you – are not entirely above the law. Step out of line and I will deal with you." Eisler smiled; it was a feral expression, utterly and completely devoid of human emotion. "And trust me, Lieutenant: you will never see it coming."
"Why are you telling me this?" Nate asked as the tactical officer started to turn away.
"The captain and the XO clearly know about you," the lieutenant commander replied, "so you're serving a purpose. Providing information, I presume." He shrugged. "Whatever your arrangement is, I don't care." His voice darkened. "But step out of line once, and I won't hesitate to neutralize you," he said, before leaning closer. "Every surviving member of Special Projects knows about you now, Augment. Don't fuck up." Eisler gestured to the remaining warhead. "I still need that hull removed, Lieutenant." Blinking in slight surprise, Nate nodded slowly.
"Aye, sir," he said in response as he turned away. The whine of the power saw was surprisingly comforting as it drowned out every other sound in the launch bay. It gave him time to think.
And he had a lot to think about.
