Chapter 19 Con
CON
“Get down,” I hissed, pulling Lex away from the observation point and deeper into the cover of the trees. My hand gripped her arm as we retreated, staying low to avoid detection.
“He saw us,” Lex whispered once we were safely concealed. Her eyes held no fear, only sharp calculation as she processed what we’d witnessed.
“That wasn’t a coincidence,” I replied, checking our surveillance equipment to ensure it wasn’t compromised. “Orlov deliberately sought out our location.”
Lex tilted her head in agreement, her expression grim. “But how? We were hidden, equipment masked against detection.”
“We need to pull back. Now.” I quickly gathered our gear. “If Orlov knows we’re watching, this entire op could be at risk.”
We made our way through the dense woodland to our vehicle, maintaining radio silence until we were clear of the facility’s perimeter. Only when we were moving did I contact the others.
“Tag, we may be compromised. Orlov made direct visual contact with our position. Returning to base.”
“Copy that,” came Tag’s terse reply. “Bennett and I will hold position until further notice.”
Lex frowned beside me. “He should withdraw too. If Orlov spotted us—”
“Bennett won’t leave,” I interrupted. “He’s been hunting Viktor for years. Now that we’ve confirmed his location, Bennett would sooner die than abandon his position.”
The drive back to the safe house took twenty minutes, each passing kilometer deepening my concern.
Not just about Orlov’s awareness of our presence, but about Bennett’s increasingly suspicious behavior—his excessive knowledge of the facility’s layouts, his secretive calls, and his barely contained emotional reactions when Orlov’s name was mentioned.
Dr. McLaren met us at the door, her expression betraying concern. “What happened?”
“Orlov knew we were there,” Lex explained as we moved into the command center. “He looked directly at our position and smiled.”
“That’s not possible,” Dr. McLaren said, but her tone lacked conviction.
My secure mobile vibrated with an incoming message—Gus’s full report on Bennett. I scanned it while Lex updated Dr. McLaren on what we’d observed.
What I read confirmed my worst suspicions. Malcolm Bennett’s background contained disturbing inconsistencies. His record indicated he’d started with MI6 in 1996, yet there were periods where his assignments were suspiciously thin on details.
The Estonia operation that had been redacted in earlier reports was now partially visible.
Bennett had been part of a joint task force monitoring Soviet-era facilities for potential technology transfer.
During that op, something had gone catastrophically wrong, resulting in the deaths of three agents.
The report named Viktor Orlov as a person of interest in that incident, not as a perpetrator, but as a potential asset who had either been turned or compromised. Bennett was the only survivor of the team assigned to make contact with him.
Most concerning was a notation from a psychological evaluation conducted six months after Estonia. “Subject displays signs of unresolved trauma and fixation on target. Recommend continued monitoring and possible reassignment.”
I slipped away to contact Tag, finding a quiet corner of the house where our conversation wouldn’t be overheard.
“I’ve got Gus’s report,” I said when he answered. “Bennett’s history with Orlov goes deeper than we suspected.”
“I figured as much,” Tag replied. “He maintains a well-crafted facade, but his control slips whenever Orlov is mentioned. His body language shifts, his pupils dilate, and his voice changes pitch.”
“Watch him closely,” I cautioned. “And, Tag—don’t share anything sensitive with him until I return. I have concerns about where our information is going.”
“Copy that.” Tag paused. “Bennett received a call about fifteen minutes ago. Stepped away to take it. Returned looking resolved, somehow.”
Once he rang off, I went to find Lex, who was reviewing our surveillance footage in the command center.
“I need to speak with you,” I said, gesturing toward the garden door. She followed without question, both of us knowing the walls might have ears.
Outside, the cold Scottish air bit through my jacket as we walked along the perimeter of the property, staying within sight of the house, but beyond hearing distance.
“Gus sent Bennett’s full background,” I began. “As I said previously, he was involved in an op in Estonia that went wrong.”
“What happened?”
“Three agents dead. Bennett, the sole survivor.” I outlined what I’d learned, watching her expression shift from concern to grim understanding.
Her head cocked. “I can’t help but wonder why Viper didn’t brief me on what happened in Estonia.”
“Or why Typhon didn’t do the same.”
We circled back toward the house, strategizing our next move. As we approached, Renegade appeared at the back door.
“Sir, we’ve finished analyzing the data from the eastern surveillance. You’ll want to see this.”
Inside, the command center had transformed into a hub of activity. Archon was enhancing thermal imagery while Dr. McLaren studied the electromagnetic readings from our morning surveillance.
“These readings reveal something worse,” Lex said, moving to the main display. “What we captured goes beyond neural processing.” Her fingers traced over the readout. “These wave formations match the directed energy technology research from twenty years ago.”
I studied the data, connections forming as I remembered the classified information from decades past. “This matches theoretical designs for pulse weapons,” I said. “Projects shelved due to targeting flaws and ethical objections.”
“Not shelved,” Lex corrected. “Just hidden from view.”
“Good God,” I hissed. “They’re developing something far beyond autonomous AI,” I said, my voice dropping. “A system capable of crippling global electronic networks.”
“An AIWS-guided pulse weapon,” Lex confirmed. “Targeted enough for strikes against specific systems or powerful enough for regional blackouts.”
“If they’ve solved the neural-interface issue—” Dr. McLaren began.
“They could deploy it with extraordinary control,” I finished. “Selecting targets based on real-time adaptive algorithms rather than pre-programmed coordinates.”
Bennett entered the room as we were discussing this theory. His reaction wasn’t the shock or alarm I’d expected. Instead, his expression showed resignation, as if our discovery was inevitable.
“You’ve figured it out,” he said, moving to the display. “It’s worse than you think. The integration capabilities would allow for selective targeting, including taking out defense systems while leaving civilian infrastructure intact, or vice versa.”
“You knew,” I accused, keeping my tone measured despite the anger rising inside me. “You knew what they were constructing and didn’t share that information.”
Bennett’s eyes hardened. “I’ve been tracking Orlov’s work for years. His research into neural interfaces was always headed in this direction.”
“Why withhold critical intelligence from your own team?” Lex demanded.
“Because I wasn’t certain,” Bennett replied, though the lie was evident in his tense posture. “And because MI6 has a history of bureaucratic hesitation when faced with unprecedented threats.”
Dr. McLaren stepped forward. “Malcolm’s concerns aren’t unfounded,” she said.
“The technical specs suggest capabilities beyond anything we’ve encountered.
A system that could selectively disable communication networks, power grids, defense installations—all with the adaptability of artificial intelligence guiding its deployment. ”
Her detailed knowledge raised fresh questions in my mind. How did she know so much about a system that had supposedly never been built?
“We need to abort this mission and call for military intervention,” Bennett declared. “This is beyond our operational scope.”
“A military strike would be too blunt an instrument,” I countered. “We need a targeted approach in which we identify the key components, extract the essential personnel, and neutralize the threat without collateral damage.”
“Agreed,” Lex said. “A military approach risks pushing them to accelerate their timeline. Or worse, deploy what they’ve already built.”
The debate continued, but I remained steadfast in my previously stated opinion. Throughout the discussion, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Bennett was playing a role, his arguments designed to delay rather than advance our mission.
Tag walked in just as we were finishing our assessment. He pulled me aside after being briefed on our discoveries.
“I might have a lead on Nightingale,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Nothing concrete yet, but signals analysis picked up communication patterns consistent with her methods. It’s being tracked.”
“Good,” I replied. “Keep me posted.”
As the team prepared for the next observation rotation, I developed a strategy to identify if there was a leak. I created three separate mission briefs with minor variations in locations and timing, ensuring each version had unique details that could be traced.
“I’ll have Gus drop these by Blackmoor’s courier system,” I told Tag. “Each person gets a different iteration. If there is a breach, we’ll know the source.”
“Smart,” he agreed. “Though risky if we’re working against the clock.”
“A calculated risk,” I countered. “Better than moving forward with a compromised operational security.”
The day wore on, each hour bringing new data from our field teams and increasing tension within the safe house.
By sixteen hundred hours, I was mentally exhausted, but no less vigilant. When Lex suggested we take a break to review our findings in private, I readily agreed, needing a moment away from the charged atmosphere of the command center.
We retreated to the bedroom we shared, which I’d already swept for listening devices. The wood-paneled room offered a temporary sanctuary from the chaos below.
“What happens if they succeed?” I asked Lex as we sat on the bed, in each other’s arms. “If Orlov deploys this system—even as a demonstration—the implications for global stability would be catastrophic.”
“It would redefine warfare,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “Nations with this technology could hold entire countries hostage without firing a single conventional weapon. Financial systems, medical equipment, and transportation networks—all vulnerable to selective attacks.”
“The end of civilization as we know it,” I said, staring into the distance. “Not with nuclear fire, but with silent, invisible pulses rendering our technology useless.”
Lex snuggled closer. “We won’t let that happen.”
In her reassuring presence, I found a balance I’d never known before—someone who understood both sides of my life and who matched my intellect and determination with her own.
“Lex,” I began, turning to face her. “Whatever happens in the next forty-eight hours—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted, her eyes meeting mine. “I need to tell you something first. I’ve been trying to find the right moment, but there isn’t one, not in the middle of all this.” She took a breath. “Con, I—”
A sharp knock at the door cut her off. Archon stood in the doorway, tablet in hand. “Satellite imagery just came in,” he said. “You need to see this immediately.”
We followed him downstairs, where the team had gathered around the display. The images showed a small clearing about a kilometer from the main facility. In the center stood what appeared to be testing apparatus surrounded by multiple vehicles.
“These were taken fifteen minutes ago,” Tag explained, advancing the sequence. “Watch what happens.”
The next images showed a pulse of energy emanating from the central device, followed by the immediate shutdown of all electronics in a measured radius around the site.
“They’re testing it,” Lex said, her face pale. “A small-scale demonstration of targeted EMP capability.”
“The real demonstration is tomorrow,” Bennett said, his voice hollow. “This was just the rehearsal.”
My eyes met Lex’s, both of us understanding the gravity of what we’d witnessed. Orlov wasn’t just building a weapon; he was preparing to unveil it to whoever had funded his research. And we had less than twenty-four hours to stop him.