Chapter 18
May 7th, 3025
Camp Bow Wow II
Mercury Metals and Mining District
New Syria
Suk II
Shit, I let it slip. I am so screwed. Jason Ortano, one of the 'mech techs for the Coyotes, had excused himself from the makeshift 'mech bay for "biological reasons." Sitting in the bathroom, partly glad he didn't have to wipe his ass with jungle leaves for a while, he also felt pretty claustrophobic. If they reacted quickly enough, there were probably a half-dozen Coyote techs waiting outside silently, ready to beat him into oblivion for putting their friends in danger.
Actually known as agent Juan Ortiz, he was brought in through another agent who would only say she's working for the Dragon. Everyone knew that meant the Combine, that was no secret. His true loyalties were elsewhere, though he went along with being a Combine loyalist for now. Have to keep your options open, he told himself, back on Hesperus. Now after the smuggled transmitters he casually clipped to some of the harder-to-reach wiring near the cockpit of each 'mech in the Coyotes had been removed, all they needed was their suspect. It wasn't exactly difficult to get it done in the jungle during routine maintenance, and Ortano/Ortiz was one of the techs assigned to electrical work.
He had let it slip during some casual conversation in the 'mech bay. When asked how he was able to locate the devices so fast (he had his fingerprints on them, so he needed to establish he touched them long after the incident to have a more up-to-date alibi), he simply shrugged and said "seems like a logical place, nice and out-of-the-way." Nobody really gave too much thought into how little time it took to find the pattern.
But once things had settled down a few weeks later, speculation began to bloom. The problem is he had discovered and removed them a little too fast, and the more logical places for such a device would be directly connected to one of the electrical lines between the cockpit and the weapon mounts. The transmitters were barely larger than the head of a laser pen, so finding them should have likely taken longer.
As it was, the virus had fired off late at the Langley affair. The commandos had revealed themselves before the Coyotes had lost their gun-cam footage, and apparently that was the only circumstantial evidence that might link the Combine to this entire global incident. The Lyran Commonwealth didn't exactly need more than circumstantial evidence at best to do whatever they wanted, given they were in open-conflict with the Combine, amongst other superpowers.
I fucked up the installation. I might have fucked up this entire…whatever is going on. And now I fucked up getting rid of it. I am…so fucked. This wasn't worth what they paid me. A hard knock at the door. "Ortano! Let's go, get your ass out here. We wanna talk to you." More knocking. He wasn't going anywhere. They were at least going to have to break down the hollowed-out door that felt more like a prison gate than anything he could hide behind at this point.
"Just a minute! Let a man pull his pants up, will ya?" No answer. They're probably debating who gets to kick the door in. Without much wait after that, the door slammed open with a nice dirty boot print below the handle. Wood splintered with a sound of tearing, the only resistance between the saboteur and four angry-looking techs, all holding various hand-sized tools with a variety of scariness.
"Get your ass out here, Ortano. You got some 'splainin' to do."
Emily raised an eyebrow at the battered and bloody 'mech tech the other four had brought into what could technically be called an office, though it felt more like a broom closet. Her duties, both logistically and strategically, have kept her occupied for the most part in terms of finding out what shut down the gun cams. One of the techs isolated the problem within a day, and they had everything they suspected was related to it removed within two days, before their next contract. Aside from the occasional message from J.J. about his investigation, she just didn't have enough time in her day to care about it beyond knowing it was taken care of.
"Cheating at cards?" Emily opted for the underhanded pitch. These guys will do the explaining for him, probably. One of his eyes had swollen shut, his hair was matted with cold sweat, and his hands were tied together with plastic straps behind him. Two of them were holding him up from under his arms. His feet were just above the ground, dangling. Based on the damage, this had to be the guy. Even card cheats don't get beat that badly. At least no card cheats I've ever met.
"We found the guy. This ass was the guy messin' with the gun cams, Dirk." The largest of the four, a black man with curly hair built like a professional wrestler spoke for the group. He could have held the bloody tech off the ground by himself for a few hours, but opted to keep his big frame in the doorway. I doubt Pearl could even sneak by him at this point.
"That so?" She stood and rounded to the front of the desk, crossing her arms and leaning against it. "You got somethin' to say about that, Ortano?"
He was silent, but part of it was because his jaw was possibly broken. It was heavily swollen on the right side.
"OK Ortano, you can nod or shake your head at this point, and I'll keep the questions simple. Give him a seat, guys. He's not getting' out of here." To add a touch of her own seriousness to that statement, her hand patted the holstered needler pistol on her right hip. "Sorry I'm not a gifted lefty, but I'm still a damn good shot with this thing. So, let's start from when you got hired for espionage work, and by whom. Was it before you joined us, or after?" No response. The big guy behind him gave him a casual slap on the back of the head which probably sent pain ringing down his…everywhere. His slaps were equivalent to Emily's pistol-whips.
She wondered if he could even see through his good eye right now, taking one in the ocular region of the cranium.
Her poker face needed serious work, but she managed to keep herself unmoving, unphased. She'd be lying to herself if she wasn't enjoying this as much as they were. And she didn't even have to get her hands bloody. Perks of command, she supposed.
Finally, unmoving in his seat, he spoke through his teeth. "Just before the contract. So, the Combine must have known they were going to hire you before then."
"When did you put the bugs in our 'mechs?" She asked.
"Once we got settled in at our old camp. Everyone was usually busy with something else, so they didn't care if I was adjusting something. Was part of the job." He sighed but started to quiver as he began to unravel the whole twisted story with one thread.
The big guy looked at the other techs, and they all nodded. "Major, the reason we were on to him was because he was able to 'discover' the bugs, devices, whatever they are, and remove them far sooner than anyone would expect to check that area. Was crammed up behind a huge bundle of wiring near the cockpits. Not actually visible without digging your hand in there for a long time. He said it was one of the most logical places to hide something, but it also wasn't the best place to make sure everything worked when it supposed to. It was less conspicuous, but not directly connected to the wiring. There was still sheathing protecting it. Didn't you say our gun cams went blind way after the RoughRiders?"
"Yes, by a pretty decent margin. At least half a minute longer. The Quickdraw was at point-blank range before the explosion, so he was able to land his hits without any targeting help. I've seen what footage we did have of the fight, and the RoughRider shots seemed way off the mark well before the explosion. Maybe that's why that Hunchback never got a shot off on any of us. Vi—Archangel, I mean, had her Spider on that building long enough. He should have shot her. Chrome got hit hard before that, but Clothesline was able to get away almost untouched."
She winced at the memory of her friend, but pushed it aside for now. Each passing day made it easier to keep herself in the moment. That thought also made her sad, so she had to push that away for now too.
Feels like pushing that kind of stuff to the side is getting easier and easier.
She stood and nodded. "Okay, that's a start. Is there anything else in any of the 'mechs we need to know about? Your life, and possibly the life of anyone you know depends on it." Wow, that was a stretch coming from someone like me. He gonna buy that load of crap?
It seemed the 'mech techs already made that abundantly clear while capturing him. He seemed to have already made a mental decision that silence wasn't going to get him anywhere. "Yes. Now that the virus is in your 'mechs, it's gone to sleep. It's buried itself deep in one of the millions of subroutines and whoever is holding the button on their end can turn it on whenever they want. Probably before the next raid."
Another one? "Where? When?" Her poker face flew off and she immediately got angry and worried at the same time. She'd have to find out what that looked like in the mirror someday. Almost no sleep. I keep getting sidetracked in my own head. Focus, Emily!
He didn't move. He didn't speak. Another light slap from the big guy. Nicer this time, though. Blood started to trickle out of his nose. He started shaking a little. "I don't know! I'm only putting together the pieces based on what I was told to do. That's all I was told to do. Nobody has talked to me since Hesperus. I found out about the virus due to some poking around after the fact with a portable readout. I saw random command lines show up and before even a second passed, they disappeared. I can't even remember what I read, it happened so fast! All I know is it wasn't just the devices I planted that were messing with the gun cams. Something is sleeping inside your 'mechs and someone can turn it on whenever they want. That's all I know!"
Emily waited a moment, as the man began to sob in his chair. "I'm so fucked. Just fucking kill me, please. I got greedy and they paid me a lot and I thought it was a one-time thing. I had no idea what I got involved in!" Tears went down his face, diluting some of the blood coming from his nose, making a syrupy mess that ran into the corners of his mouth, and further down. His body was still shaking and made it fling off his face in a disgusting display.
She squat down and looked the shameful man in the eyes. "I want the name of your employer. The person who hired you to do this job."
He couldn't meet her cold stare, but between sobs was able to get out a few broken sentences. "I-I-I can-n-n describe her, b-b-but she's probably long-g-g-g-gone now. I n-n-n-ever-r got a nam-m-e."
Emily looked at the other techs. "Get his ass out of here. Take him to the Militia liaison and ask them to detain him until we can sort this out. Ask the doc to check him out once he's behind something more solid that can hold him. Tell them nothing else, and ask our liaison, Captain Daniels, if he could set some time aside with the RoughRider commander and I later today on a call. Tell him it's urgent. I have other things to finish before lunch, so get this sorry sack of shit out of here so I can keep my appetite." The men and woman filed out with Ortano, having a little pity on such a sad display they just witnessed. Someone was nice enough to offer a rag for him to wipe his face and they moved his cuffs to the front.
Emily sat back down and exhaled sharply, taking a moment for all that to sink in. Well, that was a hell of a bombshell for 0900. She glanced down at the map on the table she was studying, where moments ago the ideas for how to find and destroy the rest of the other mercenaries in the area was starting to come together in her head. Now her brain was all scrambled. She'd have to try again after lunch.
For now, time to bring everyone up to speed. She grabbed the short-wave radio on the other side of her hip. "Mother hen, Dirk here. Please get Bubba and bring them to the main office ASAP. Need to make a phone call." After getting confirmation, she sat back in her simple office chair and looked at the ceiling, trying to put her thoughts in order. Clothesline's lance is out on patrol. So I get to have this conversation twice. Goody.
Should have slept in with Pearl.
Firebase Yankee
Alshayra Continent
Suk II
Leutnant-Colonel LaPointe was out on a run with some of his troops when he got the call. Still sweating like he had some of Jack's Oblivion Ribs, he stomped to the video call set up for him in the corner of the tent. All they were going to see was a towel over his shoulders and a sweaty tank top. And rivulets of sweat still coming off his face. Whoever wanted this call so urgently obviously didn't care about formality, so whatever. Two faces came up on the screen. One he recognized instantly, Major Wright of the Coyotes. 1st Iron Coyotes, he mentally corrected himself. The other face was less familiar.
Wright spoke first. "LC, thanks for your time. We'll be brief. First, this is Captain Daniels, my Militia liaison. I thought someone representing them needed to be here for this call."
LaPointe nodded. "Captain." An aide passed by with a bottle of cold water, and he gratefully accepted.
The young man nodded. His goatee looked impervious to sweat, despite some glistening off his angular face with a somber expression. "Leutnant-Colonel. I'll let Major Wright do the talking for both of us to save time." Smart man, the oldest of the three thought.
Wright continued. Her face was about as serious as he remembered, but less exhausted. The screen occasionally flickered her image. "We found our saboteur, LC. Captain J.J. is continuing his investigation elsewhere, but our techs caught him saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and it bit him in the ass. He's currently being detained with the Militia, and awaits further interrogation." For a few minutes, she recounted the events of earlier this morning while LaPointe and Daniels took their own individual notes.
"Half the reason we're calling you is you're welcome to send your own people over here to see how his story relates to what happened to your own 'mechs. The other part…" She paused, her gaze lowering down and to the corner of the screen, as if trying to figure out how to tell her child she's getting divorced, or some other long-term bad news.
"All our 'mechs are still infected with the same virus. Or some kind of similar code that allows whoever's in control of it to flip the switch and turn off our gun cams at will. Either there's something a lot more serious coming, or someone wants to continue to hide the presence of who these commandos responsible for the Langley Affair actually work for." Lapointe's eyes narrowed into tiny white lines of concealed rage mixed with concealed momentary panic.
She continued. "Hopefully your techs will have better luck with the virus than ours, given your resources, but it's safe to say there's going to be another attack on something. Most likely treatment plants, but there's no guarantee at this point. The only sure thing is it's going to happen again. Nobody has located any of the commandos that escaped, so I'd bet my 'mech on them hitting something again." Her stone-cold expression implied total confidence in that statement.
"Thank you, Major. Captain. Thank you both. This is obviously bad, but perhaps you're right. We might catch a lucky break. The RoughRiders can afford to have a 'mech or two out of combat rotations for an extended period until we find the virus. Our men are already on high-alert, but this gives me a valid reason to keep them from getting complacent. We haven't caught our saboteur yet. It's a little easier to blend-in with a force as large as ours. If you get any word from Captain J.J., please let me know ASAP."
"Will do, LC. Captain, anything you want to add?" A brief pause while the man on the other side of the screen racked his brain for a moment.
"Two things. One, obviously this all pertains to our Militia tanks and the lance of 'mechs we have too, so we'll work on it on our own end too. Two. Call me crazy, but since the man you detained isn't necessary to shut down our gun cams anymore, and they haven't made any further attempts to contact him…" another brief pause, and for a moment LaPointe might know what he was getting at.
"Captain, are you implying we attempt to bait the commandos by pretending our cams are offline again?" He asked the young man.
"Not exactly, sir, but that's an idea worth exploring as well. What I was thinking is since we already know there's going to be another attack, is there a way we could figure out the source of the signal or signals once the virus comes back to life? Maybe we could find out who's pushing the button on the other end."
Kid doesn't belong in liaison duty. Kid belongs in intelligence. LaPointe dabbed his towel around his head while nodding. "Yes, that's an idea. I'll get with my officers and chief techs and we'll see if we can find a way to trace the signal back instead of worrying about the virus itself. That doesn't solve our original problem, but if we find another solution to that, we'll let you know. If that's all for now, I need a damn shower. Thanks, to both of you, on behalf of the RoughRiders," he finished, adding a respectful nod which both returned before each image winked out individually.
And then Emily's image came back on a split second later. "Sorry LC, I almost forgot. I wanted to ask about the status of my pilots in your care. And," she couldn't help breaking out into a grin. "What would you like to trade for an almost brand-new Warhammer?" LaPointe grinned at Major Wright's latest catch, grateful it wasn't any of his own rides this time.
"Major, that sounds right up my alley. Call me this afternoon and we'll hash out the details. Your two pilots are awake, and the doc says the woman can return to combat duty in a few more days. The man—Mc'somethingorother. Best he sits the rest of your garrison duty out, but he'll be okay."
"Thanks, LC. Call you later. Out." LaPointe was half-expecting the screen to come back to life one more time. Kid's got a lot of potential, if she doesn't get herself killed out here first. Now, time for that damn shower.
