Naleen's Shadow, Chapter 4: Whispers in the Code
Mon, 2 Dec 2024
Continued from Chapter 3: Uneasy Alliances.
If you're just starting you probably want Chapter 1: Naleen's Bite.
A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement
Briefing room Epsilon-Three was a sterile, windowless space, meant to induce focus and eliminate distractions. A long steel table was illuminated in harsh fluorescent light. Hinsman stood at the head of the table, his gaze evaluating his team.
Three people sat at the table. Each was a specialist, handpicked for their loyalty, their skills, and their ability to work as a team. Anya, the demolitions specialist, sat regarding Hinsman, her eyes cold and calculating. Next to her sat Kaito, the technology expert. His fingers twitched with nervous energy as he monitored a stream of data on his wrist display. Across from them was Reza, the master at disguise and deception. He would get them in.
And then there was Miller.
He stood apart, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. Miller was a ghost, moving through the shadows without a trace. He was Hinsman's most trusted operative, his eyes and ears in the dark corners of the underworld. He was also Hinsman's most unpredictable agent.
"The target" Hinsman said, his voice calm and unemotional, "is Mihrab Vanco Petrovski. You've all read the files. You know what he's capable of."
At Petrovski's name, each of the agents, except Miller, shifted ever so slightly, the only sign of tension they showed. Even among the elite of PTSC, the name drew a reaction. His was a horror story, whispered in hushed voices.
"This is not a standard extraction." Hinsman continued, gazing at each team member in turn. "This is... delicate. Time sensitive. This asset is... valuable. Vital to the stability of the sector."
He paused, letting the words sink in. He saw the effect those words had on them, ranging between amusement and irritation, as eyes narrowed and lips thinned or twitched. His own lips twitched. He didn't believe the bullshit he was spouting either.
But the humor faded as they began to go into the details.
Activating the holographic projector in the table, Hinsman brought up the Naleen prison with every lethal detail carefully rendered, from the blast doors to the automated turret emplacements.
"Naleen is a fortress," Hinsman said. He traced important corridors and intersections with the potential to become choke points. "But every fortress has its weaknesses. Our job is to find and exploit those weaknesses and get in and out quickly."
He summarized the plan, his voice calm and steady as he outlined each operational phase. He felt a strange disconnect as if he were watching the scene from above. He knew what he was doing was reckless, perhaps even suicidal. But he had no other choice, This had to be done. This was personal.
Undetected in the digital shadows behind the system's firewalls, Westfield watched. He had compromised the briefing room's security protocols hours ago. A thin smile played across his lips as he listened to Hinsman lay out his plan.
It was a good plan. Just what he had hoped for. He had chosen his pawn well.
The Architect of Chaos
Hinsman looked at each of his team members in turn after he finished laying out the plan. He wanted to gauge their reactions. Anya had a gleam in her eyes. She was looking forward to dismantling a system said to be impenetrable.
Pale and sweaty, Kaito was researching everything that was known about Naleen. His concerns were all technical. He was not bothered by the ethical considerations.
Reza's face was unreadable as usual. He had no opinion... about anything.
And then there was Miller, still leaning against the wall. His silence was the loudest.
"Questions?" asked Hinsman, his voice raspy.
Miller stepped away from the wall, his movements fluid. Stepping into the circle of light around the projector, his grey eyes fixed on Hinsman. "Just one," he said in a low growl. "What happens when... we get him out?"
The second question, unspoken but weighing on all of them, except perhaps for Kaito, hung in the air between them - the truth about this mission. They weren't extracting Mihrab Vanco Petrovski to protect the sector. They were extracting him so that someone else could control him, could use him.
Hinsman met Miller's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Hinsman said, his voice carrying no hint of his inner turmoil. "For now, our objective is simple. Get him out of Naleen alive."
He dismissed the team with a curt nod. Each seemed to carrying a weight they hadn't had when they walked in.
Hinsman leaned back against the table, relaxing his muscles, clearing his mind, allowing himself to enjoy a moment of peace. But the game he was playing wouldn't leave his thoughts. It was dangerous. It might eat him alive, scattering the last few bits of his soul that he still possessed. But there was no other way.
Westfield smiled and leaned back in his chair. He sipped his wine, a very fine, old vintage from Harley, the world that produced the best wines. He had listened to Hinsman's every word. Now he sat and thought, analyzing the plan, examining it from different angles. An hour later, he stood up and regarded the dregs of wine in his glass. City lights shone through the windows and cast ruby fingers of light on the walls.
"Good," he murmured. And repeated the word. "Good."
From the moment he had discovered the PTSC's interest in Mihrab Vanco Petrovski, he had seen his opportunity. The PTSC, with their obsession with control and their blind faith in authority, were about to unleash chaos that they could never hope to contain.
And the Children of Tor, poised on the edge of the abyss, were ready to reap the whirlwind.
He raised his glass in a toast. "To chaos," he whispered. "To the fall of empires. And to the rise of something...new."