Operation: Mobius: Chronicles of Rah

By Scott Hopkins

In a Galactic Republic, a burned spy is pulled back into the twisted world of corporate intrigue and secrets as he searches to find the one man who holds the key to why he was burned. Rah returns to Sanctuary and a secret plot as an ambitious businessman plots to destabilize the Republic’s and could throw the Republic into chaos.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chaotic Designs Publishing
• Release date: Dec 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781951902049

Book preview

PROVIDENCE

MIXED VIOLENCE

The pain of too many martinis and the side effects of Promium withdrawal never seemed to get any easier, regardless of how fun the night before had been. Eyes opened, a thick lingering fog filled his head. Two silhouettes, one with light skin and the other a soft blue, slumbered in the bed beside him, a testament to the night’s festivities. . As the fog eventually subsided, a third silhouette in the room was revealed to him, sitting in the lounger by the foot of the bed.

Vi, by God, that better be you or someone in management is going to get an earful when I sober up! Subsiding finally, the fog of the hangover evolved into an orchestra of pounding and dizziness as he sat up.

Rah! the silhouette said as she stepped into focus and shook her head. As much as I'm sure you had a great time last night, one of these days you're going to forget your injection and you're not going to wake up with a hangover!

The mysterious-looking raven-haired woman’s emphasis on the words not going to wake up hadn't escaped Rah's notice. Violet Black stood before Rah in all of her physical prowess, taller than him by almost a head; her wavy black hair glistened with a sheen of violet which complemented the flowing oval face that ended with a soft point at the chin. She stepped forward with urgency, ramming an auto-injector into Rah's naked thigh with the delicacy of a sumo wrestler. Rah was not sure if the sting of the injector, the rush of Promium, or a mixture of the two with the alcohol in his body caused the room to spin out of control, but regardless of the cause, he retched on the floor. Violet, with a style and grace of a dancer or a martial artist, slid on impulse well away from the spray pattern, almost as if she walked on air. The skintight body suit she wore under a worn leather jacket accentuated her toned physique, but struggled to restrain her voluptuous bosom.

Both of his mysterious beauties lying peacefully on the bed startled awake in the midst of Rah's violent reaction to the mix of Promium and alcohol. They gathered their articles of clothing strewn around the room, then scampered for the door. Violet gave them both an amused expression as they scampered past. She knew they were playthings, diversions or assets to complete the job. She knew who he wanted, it was the reason they worked so well together.

Oh, what a shame, Rah thought to himself for a solitary moment, his expression somber, as he stared at the ruined plush light gray carpet of the grand suite. Rah, or Roger Anson Harrison, as some file in some undisclosed office somewhere in the great Trokan Republic's archives had him named, hated leaving a mess in hotels. You know, Violence darling, we should make it a point to remember this place the next time we're in this sector, he said, jumping up from the bed like a broken marionette springing to life and strolling toward the large bathroom. Adorned with marble tile, a granite sink, and a tub big enough to fit four, the hotel gave off the ritzy opulence that Rah had become accustomed to so many lifetimes ago when he had his secret expense account and corporate backing. They have the best vodka and the beds are soft as feathers. He continued as he washed off his face Did you find what you were looking for? he asked, taking a measure of his physical state in the large wall-sized mirror. The corners of his mouth curled up in a crafty grin as he considered himself. A large part of his effectiveness as a spy was that while he was an attractive man, his features were so non-descript that he tended to evaporate from people’s memory as quickly as he arrived. Rah enjoyed the advantage that his features afforded him, and he took every advantage of that fact to do his job. Turning away from his reflection, he could just see Violet sitting in the lounger playing with her razorblade.

The target is on the ninth floor. Violet leaned forward in the lounger, setting her elbows on her knees. She stared just ahead, ostensibly at nothing, but her eyes moved with purpose, as if reading some sort of diagram. There's a contingent of guards in the rooms on either side of his room. Once we get in the room, I figure we've got three minutes before they join the party. Rah stepped through the doorway of the lavish bathroom, still naked. Leaning against the cold metal doorframe, he wiped water from his face with a towel. He stared through Violet for a moment, as if running scenarios through his mind one at a time, trying to figure out the best plan.

He's never alone outside the room and the only objective is to get the briefcase contents? Rah mumbled to himself without changing his focus. Violet nodded as he spoke. Rah contemplated the plan’s possible scenarios as Violet folded up her razor and slid it back into her boot.

What about hotel staff? They must have clearance to access his room for cleaning and maintenance. Rah continued wiping his face off with the towel, throwing it over his shoulder into the sink as he considered Violet’s question.

It’s a shame we can’t hack his room’s systems. We could have something go haywire and come in as maintenance staff. Violet continued staring out in front of her as if she was studying some mysterious item she alone could see on the floor.

Only thing we could get access to would be environmental systems, but the guards watch over any hotel personnel that enter the room.

Rah walked over to the bed, a deep contemplative scowl on his face wrinkling his brow as he listened to Violet’s assessment. I know you said no destruction. But seriously, unless we want this to turn into a running firefight, we need to get close to him without guards; that’s just not possible.

So, the objective is to get the briefcase, but the problem is getting through the guards. Violet looked at Rah, sitting back in the chair, crossing her legs.

We could always crash the party. The direct approach tends to work well most times. Rah laughed, rolling his eyes. Violet’s continued pursuit of a violent approach was understandable, and sometimes fun, but right now, Rah wanted to resolve this conundrum

If we’re going the violent route, I’d at least like to keep the hotel out of the equation. Whatever the buyer wants this for, he’s willing to pay a lot to get it, but I don’t want to involve innocents unless it’s necessary. Violet shook her head. Apprehension wrinkled her face as she looked at Rah.

No good. When he arrived at the hotel, he had a convoy of three armored vehicles. We’d need a lot more firepower and personnel to assault his team on the street. Rah nodded in agreement at the prospect of a firefight in the middle of a busy street with well-armed men. Before he could respond, his comm link beeped from the nightstand next to the bed, pulling their attention away from the discussion. Violet stood, walked to the nightstand, picking up the small electronic device to activate it. Who's Kelvis Trena?

The question stunned Rah for a moment as he shifted his focus from the mission to the question. Kelvis Trena! A perplexed glare fell over Rah's face as his mind searched deep for any information on the name.

Some guy named Kelvis Trena sent you a message saying 'black dagger, Freeport Five, 5 days'. You have any idea what that means?

Rah's eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. Rah walked over to the bed and collapsed his full weight on the mattress.

A black dagger was the calling card of the assassin we tracked down at Haelstrom who killed my handler. A black dagger had either been the murder weapon or one turned up at the scene of every agent and handler he’d killed. Rah looked up at Violet as the weight of remembering the events weighted down his body. Kelvis Trena was an RIC intelligence source; he’d fed me intelligence and support for some of my earlier missions. I’d contact him every once in a while to get updates or use some of his sources to get information back when I was still an active agent. I haven’t talked to him since before we met, but he gave me some good intel on tracking down the assassin. I have no idea why he's contacting me now or how he found me, but if he's got information on what happened, I need to meet him.

What about the current mission?

Rah turned his head back to Violet, who was giving him a flat unemotional expression, acknowledging what she assumed to be his next move but hoping he'd see the danger in his decision.

It's a two-day trip through the Freehold into Republic space. Plus, we’d still need to meet our buyer for the contract. Assuming we don't hit any delays, we'll arrive exactly when he wants us to be there. It would take us two days, at least, to properly prep extracting the case without violence. As much as I hate to say this, my dangerous beauty, we get the briefcase your way. I'll contact the client, tell him the pick-up will be on Roermon tomorrow, and let’s figure out how we’re going to get in, which I’m sure you’ve already planned out, haven’t you?

A huge evil grin spread over Violet’s face as she tossed Rah his communicator and headed for the door connecting the two rooms. I need a porter’s uniform and a food tray! he yelled after her as she disappeared through the doors. Rah spent a minute running through a very complicated procedure of codes on his computer before the system connected with a remote message system. The anonymous web portal allowed him to send messages regarding jobs from anywhere without being traced. He stared at the link for a moment, his spy-craft working overtime as he considered his message. A mischievous smile curled up the edges of his mouth as he finally came to the perfect message: Lonely traveler looking for that missed connection at Roermon station. I’ll be there tomorrow with silver briefcase at the pub near terminal 15. Buy me a drink and we’ll catch up. Rah looked over the message, ensuring all of the predetermined code words were there, along with the time and place. Nothing in what he had written gave any indication of the mission or the reason for the meeting. Satisfied the message had arrived without issue; he turned off the small computer and began packing. They would need to exit in a hurry; he didn’t think stopping to pack would be a good idea. Resolving himself to the path he had chosen, he decided a shower and fresh clothes would get him equally as motivated as his action-starved partner.

Stepping out of the shower, the ex-corp spy walked through the enormous bathroom and into the bedroom, where he found Violet sitting on the bed checking equipment: a small food cart adorned with a full meal and a hotel porter’s uniform, which hung from the handle. Unfortunately, the porter who the outfit belonged to lay a few feet away, dark silver tape over his mouth, zip ties around his hands and feet, and only his undergarments to keep him warm. He was unconscious, which was typical for Violet. She seemed wholly unconcerned about her prize.

I’ve got flash bangs and smoke canisters with trips for the doors and charges for the main door.

My dear Violence, I hope we won’t need all of that. Have you ever considered just stealing a master key? I’m sure this fine chap had one on him. Violet smiled, the knife in her hand tapping a small blue card sitting inches from her thigh. Rah simply laughed to himself and shook his head as he moved to put on the porter uniform. I do hope you weren’t too hard on this one, he said, looking down at the unconscious man on the floor. Rah regarded himself in the mirror, an expression of surprise on his face as he realized the outfit fit him perfectly. However, did you find someone my size and build working as hotel staff?

Violet only smiled that soft devious smile she gave him when she did something he couldn’t understand or didn’t really want to know the answer to.

****

Rah’s thoughts were on Kelvis’ message as he walked along the corridor to the target’s room. Why now? He thought the timing was the most curious part of the whole equation. Could he have just uncovered it, or had it simply taken Kelvis this long to track him down? This had been the closest Rah had been to Republic space in two years. How could Kelvis have known they could get to Freeport 5 in time? As Rah came around the corner, he hesitated. Vi, we have a problem, he whispered to the food tray.. There are two guards, not one!

Resolved to not let the plan go awry, Rah pushed forward. With only a moment of concentration, he told his body to start secreting pheromones that would cause confusion. One of the advantages of being a burned operative, genetically manipulated to serve a function, was that if they didn’t kill an agent when they burned him, they can’t take away his skills.

Rah had never been too sure what they did to him, as much of his memory prior to the procedure was missing. They wanted an operative who could talk his way through corporate espionage rather than fight his way in. Leaving his targets unaware of anything that might have happened tended to keep retaliations low. Rah had been efficient and effective at his job, figuring out how to manipulate different pheromones to create different effects let him woo women and put men off their guard. He wondered if the organization who he’d worked for considered how dangerous Rah coupled with an operative with a penchant for violence might be.

An invisible cloud of chemicals floated around Rah as he approached the end of the hall. The goal, behind door number two, was prime for the taking, but blocked by the two seated men, who looked like holovid wrestlers. As a rule, Rah would have no doubts about Violet’s ability to subdue even the largest threat, but he started to wonder as he looked them up and down. Both men stood as he approached, one stood closer to Rah than the other guard, who stayed closer to the door. It dawned on Rah that the way the men staggered their position gave the one farther back a clear field of fire.

Good morning, gentlemen. I have breakfast for 913. The first guard looked at Rah, then back to his companion, both of their brows furrowed with uncertainty. The ex-spy knew the chemicals would take a moment to affect them, so he simply waited with a patient smile on his face.

We didn’t order any breakfast. He noticed the familiar glaze fill their eyes as the chemical hit their brain.

Well, of course, you didn’t. The guest in 913 did. I have the bill right here. He held up a small black bi-fold. Both men stepped closer, their minds foggy with Rah’s suggestion of an order the foremost thing on their mind. Both men stepped up to the cart, the guard farther away forgetting his training as they flanked the cart on either side, leaving the front of the cart open to the door.

Excuse me! Violet, suddenly standing at the end of the cart with a spray can in each hand, the nozzles pointed at the guards. Both men turned toward Violet as distorted reasoning showed on their faces. A cloud of gas filled the air before them as it sprayed from each can into their faces. Within seconds, both men dropped to the floor with resounding thumps

Nice! Rah exclaimed as he pulled two small cylinders from under the cart. He handed one to Violet, then moved with familiar efficiency toward the two doors that flanked the center door. They pulled cover tape off the sticky strips and placed the canisters at the bottom frame of each door. A thin wire tied to the door handle ensured the canister would trip when the door opened. With a smile, Violet stood and moved to the target door, pulling a black handgun from a shoulder holster. Rah stepped up to the frame side of the door with the key card. With a nod from Violet, Rah slid the key card into the slot and waited for the green bulb at the top of the lock to illuminate. A long moment passed as they both watched, realizing the key was not going to unlock the door.

Are you kidding me? His head shaking. And this was going so well.

Rah slid the key into the slot once more. With no difference in outcome, rolling his eyes in frustration he pulled the key out. Vi, my love. Please! Rah implored with a welcoming gesture. Rah pulled his gun and traded places with Violet as she inserted a small card in the slot and pulled out her small handheld computer.

You know, this would be so much easier if I could just blow the door! she said with a grin as she checked her computer. Marvin, open sesame! she said to the device. A moment of silence passed until the small light on the keypad turned green and they heard a noticeable click. Violet returned the card and computer to a pocket of her jacket. She pulled her handgun back out before turning the knob and pushing in the door.

Who the hell are you? a rather obese man yelled at them as Rah and Violet burst into the room.

Violet quickly moved straight for the man as Rah closed the door and ensured the locking mechanism activated. The large man stood on the far side of the bed, his belly testing the limits of the rope that held his hotel robe closed. His thinning gray hair still showed signs of moisture from a shower. He had a long handlebar mustache that dipped down past the edges of his lips, and a sharply pointed goatee on his round chin.

Guar— He started as Violet grabbed him, a white rag pressed hard against his mouth. Rah moved over to the desk, where a silver briefcase sat. He expertly checked the locking mechanism.

She finished taping the large unconscious man to a chair he barely fit in.

I don’t suppose we have time to get the combination out of him, Violet mused Rah searched around the room to make sure there were no other decoy silver briefcases.

I’d say that’s a no. Let’s go, Vi! Rah grabbed the case as two loud bangs resonated through the hallway outside, shaking the walls and doors. Rah looked to Violet, and her devilish smile reminded him how he appreciated her attention to details as looked toward the balcony.

Plan B! she joked as she pulled a small rectangular transmitter from her inside coat pocket and pressed a button. A third explosion vibrated the door and walls as unintelligible yelling sounded from outside the door. Violet pulled a small roll of gray cord from a pouch on her hip. Unrolling the soft pliable cord, she placed it in a circle in the middle of the floor.

Gentex, really? Rah quipped before stepping back against the wall. Violet shot her uncertain companion a crafty look as she placed a small piece of metal with a blinking light on the edge of the cord and walked to the wall by Rah. On her small transmitter, she pressed a second button. A fourth bang filled the room, causing a large circle of dust to appear in the floor. Violet stepped up to the hole and looked down at the plaster and ferrocrete now gathered rather untidily in the room beneath them. With an excited grin, Violet dropped into the hole and disappeared. Rah shook his head in disbelief and, after dropping the case first, followed suit.

They both assumed a very casual nature as they strolled through the hallway to the elevator. Rah concentrated on filling the air around them with a pheromone that meant to make people not take notice of them. The duo emerged from the elevator stepping from the compartment and out on the ground floor, into a scene of chaos. Hotel personnel were running around, trying to calm guests and coordinate evacuation procedures. A security guard stood talking to someone who Rah guessed might be the manager of the hotel and a number of local constables.

Rah and Violet stayed with the crowd as the hotel personnel guided people out of the building. Once free of the throng of guests, Rah and Violet strolled to the parking lot and their newly acquired vehicle, ready for a quick getaway. Rah looked over at Violet, and laughed internally at the mischievous grin she wore as she tossed the briefcase into the back seat.

Rah pulled away just as the Republic Crisis Response vehicles pulled into the driveway in front of the hotel. Subtle...very subtle, my dear! Rah laughed as he drove, checking the rear cameras for any hint of pursuit.

No one’s dead, and there's nothing connecting us to the incident. They looked at each other, sharing a silent humorous moment of understanding, turning their focus to the drop.

Transport leaves in four hours. We stop for a two-hour layover at Roermon station, where we’ll meet the buyer and make the exchange. Then we catch a second transport to Freeport Five. I left the message for Kelvis last night. If everything goes well, it should be a quiet trip. Maybe now I can start getting some answers. Violet nodded as they merged onto the highway and headed for the spaceport.

MENAGERIE

The sound of traffic on wet streets below bled through the walls as blurring krylon lights blinked and buzzed behind the cheap window shades. A headlight from a passing vehicle pierced through, exposing the worn gray walls in a wash of harsh light, just as the muffled commotion of voices intruded on the silence of the room. The clink of melting ice cubes as it fell into a nearby glass drew attention his away from the surrounding clamor and back to the center of the room.

Landeris Aral stared for a moment through a crack in the shade before releasing it, letting it snap back into place. The single ceiling light exposed his wiry frame and deep sullen eyes as he walked back to the short table. The soft orange light made his relatively young features look old, as it accentuated the lines in his face, many of which had recently appeared.

Landeris picked up a glass bottle full of amber liquid from the table and refilled the solitary glass, spilling some of the contents onto the table. As he lifted the glass to his mouth, a soft double-rap sounded from the wooden door. Emptying the glass in a quick gulp, he quietly set it down. With a quick check to make sure his shirt covered the pistol wedged in the back of his pants, he slowly cracked the door. A pair of piercing blue eyes set against pale freckled skin and shrouded in wet strawberry blonde hair waited anxiously outside. A second of recognition flashed across his face, then Landeris quickly opened and closed the door, allowing the woman to slip in.

You're late! Landeris said, locking the door, then turning to his guest. Lyzette Bianco stepped into the room cautiously, walking to the window, peering behind the drawn blinds. Landeris watched as she echoed his earlier movements to stare down at the street. Her dark worn leather jacket and denim pants gave Lyzette a rough-and-tumble look. Landeris knew that the bulk of her average height was the product of long legs and sturdy thigh-high boots. Having worked with Lyzette before, he knew the hard look was only a disguise. Her pale freckled skin and