May 2 AC 201
The man known to his subordinates only as Sir pushed back his chair from the console at which he'd been seated for more than three hours. His sudden movement prompted everyone else in the room to look in his direction, there faces displaying varying degrees of apprehension and interest.
"Did you find anything?" inquired Daniel Mortimer from his position near the satellite tracking station.
"Unfortunately, yes. Everybody listen up," he added. The command was unnecessary-all eyes in the room were focused on him.
"She says they've finally found our trail-seems one of the agents got a mysterious visitor."
"You mean we've got a bug?" asked Leslie Jackson, frowning down at the half empty coffee cup in her hand.
"Possibly. But at this point, we can't be sure who it is. There's no way to know." He got to his feet, smoothing out the creases that had gradually appeared in his jacket during the three hours he had just spent virtually immobile. "I'll inform the boss. Masterson," he leveled his gaze at a dour-looking blond man in the far corner of the information center. "I want you to see what they know. I don't care how you do it. She says it's something about a map, but she can't make too many inquiries."
"You got it."
He exited the room, pondering irritably how to break the news of this security breech to his superiors.
*****
"Well, this is certainly unexpected," commented the old gentleman dryly. The viewscrene on the wall was not of the highest quality, but even through the gritty distortion it created he could see the huge emerald ring adorning the other man's right index finger. When the gentleman got angry, he would twist the ring slowly with his ring finger and thumb.
He was twisting it now.
"So, we don't know how this information leaked-and to make matters worse, we don't even know what the information is. It seems to me that you've been a bit remiss in your duties, young man."
"Forgive me, Sir."
The old gentleman drummed his long, wrinkled fingers against the smoothly polished wood of his desk. He looked as though he was contemplating something. Finally he spoke again, looking directly at the young man.
"Let me offer you the opportunity to redeem yourself. If you were to make a guess, based on what our informant has told you, what would you suggest this information might be?"
He thought for a moment. His answer to this question would decide his fate, and the young man was fully aware of what the consequences were likely to be if he was wrong.
"I'm waiting."
"Sir...I believe, based on what we know, that it was a chart of some kind...perhaps a map of the whereabouts of some of our facilities. We did chase those Preventers away from the Calisto plant... Of course, that was a few days earlier, but..."
"Very astute, young man," replied the old gentleman. "I would be willing to wager a great sum of money that your suspicions are correct. Of course, have your team find out for certain, and then get in touch with me again. In the meantime," and he fixed his listener with a frosty stare that penetrated to his very bones, "Who among our personnel would have had access to a complete chart of the bases?"
More sure of his footing this time, the young man answered quickly. "Only Silence, Sir...any one of them might have provided the information."
"How distressing," mused the old gentleman. "You are correct once again. I find it disturbing and more than a little frustrating that our most elite force may not be as wholeheartedly in our service as we had thought. I shall have to consult the others on this matter. Dismissed." And with that, the screen went black.
For a long time the young man remained standing, seemingly rooted to the spot he had occupied throughout the duration of his conversation with the old gentleman. If the informant was indeed a member of Silence, he or she would not be easy to catch. Unless...
Rapidly, he punched in the same code he had dialed only twenty minutes earlier. After what seemed like an interminable pause the old gentleman's face reappeared on the screen.
"Again, young man? I certainly hope you don't have more bad news." The old man's eyes spoke of dire consequences if such were indeed the case.
"No, Sir. I have an idea."
The man known to his subordinates only as Sir pushed back his chair from the console at which he'd been seated for more than three hours. His sudden movement prompted everyone else in the room to look in his direction, there faces displaying varying degrees of apprehension and interest.
"Did you find anything?" inquired Daniel Mortimer from his position near the satellite tracking station.
"Unfortunately, yes. Everybody listen up," he added. The command was unnecessary-all eyes in the room were focused on him.
"She says they've finally found our trail-seems one of the agents got a mysterious visitor."
"You mean we've got a bug?" asked Leslie Jackson, frowning down at the half empty coffee cup in her hand.
"Possibly. But at this point, we can't be sure who it is. There's no way to know." He got to his feet, smoothing out the creases that had gradually appeared in his jacket during the three hours he had just spent virtually immobile. "I'll inform the boss. Masterson," he leveled his gaze at a dour-looking blond man in the far corner of the information center. "I want you to see what they know. I don't care how you do it. She says it's something about a map, but she can't make too many inquiries."
"You got it."
He exited the room, pondering irritably how to break the news of this security breech to his superiors.
*****
"Well, this is certainly unexpected," commented the old gentleman dryly. The viewscrene on the wall was not of the highest quality, but even through the gritty distortion it created he could see the huge emerald ring adorning the other man's right index finger. When the gentleman got angry, he would twist the ring slowly with his ring finger and thumb.
He was twisting it now.
"So, we don't know how this information leaked-and to make matters worse, we don't even know what the information is. It seems to me that you've been a bit remiss in your duties, young man."
"Forgive me, Sir."
The old gentleman drummed his long, wrinkled fingers against the smoothly polished wood of his desk. He looked as though he was contemplating something. Finally he spoke again, looking directly at the young man.
"Let me offer you the opportunity to redeem yourself. If you were to make a guess, based on what our informant has told you, what would you suggest this information might be?"
He thought for a moment. His answer to this question would decide his fate, and the young man was fully aware of what the consequences were likely to be if he was wrong.
"I'm waiting."
"Sir...I believe, based on what we know, that it was a chart of some kind...perhaps a map of the whereabouts of some of our facilities. We did chase those Preventers away from the Calisto plant... Of course, that was a few days earlier, but..."
"Very astute, young man," replied the old gentleman. "I would be willing to wager a great sum of money that your suspicions are correct. Of course, have your team find out for certain, and then get in touch with me again. In the meantime," and he fixed his listener with a frosty stare that penetrated to his very bones, "Who among our personnel would have had access to a complete chart of the bases?"
More sure of his footing this time, the young man answered quickly. "Only Silence, Sir...any one of them might have provided the information."
"How distressing," mused the old gentleman. "You are correct once again. I find it disturbing and more than a little frustrating that our most elite force may not be as wholeheartedly in our service as we had thought. I shall have to consult the others on this matter. Dismissed." And with that, the screen went black.
For a long time the young man remained standing, seemingly rooted to the spot he had occupied throughout the duration of his conversation with the old gentleman. If the informant was indeed a member of Silence, he or she would not be easy to catch. Unless...
Rapidly, he punched in the same code he had dialed only twenty minutes earlier. After what seemed like an interminable pause the old gentleman's face reappeared on the screen.
"Again, young man? I certainly hope you don't have more bad news." The old man's eyes spoke of dire consequences if such were indeed the case.
"No, Sir. I have an idea."