Oasis 6: Medallion of Blood

By Dennis G. Copeland

It had been over twenty years since Earth ended the bloody Separatist Wars and united the outer planets and far outposts. It was now a time of growing prosperity, expanding to the far reaches of the galaxy. Earth had built six giant stations at the outer edges of the solar system in every direction know as the Oasis jump points. Each will provide a peaceful haven in preparation for the long trips out into the galaxy, or back.

After the theft of an ancient device from a remote research facility, a small group of secret and powerful individuals race to recover the device before it falls into hands beyond their control. Nothing or anyone will stop them from succeeding.

Assigned to the Oasis 6 jump station, Captain Ryan Moss was tired and contemplating retiring. Circumstances were about to postpone that idea after receiving a cryptic message and the Medallion. Ryan now finds he holds the key to unimaginable power in his hands with unseen forces willing to risk everything to get it back.

Pressed by company director Frank Brackett for one last trip, one that would be highly profitable to both of them, someone from the shadows has other ideas about how Ryan should retire one more permanent. As his mission begins, Ryan suddenly finds he is helpless to escape the path of murder and intrigue before him. His only chance, find out who is trying to destroy him before they succeed, and why?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 3, 2009
• ISBN: 9781469121086

Dennis G. Copeland

Born and raised under the warm and starry skies of California, the lure of space always held a special fascination growing up. Traveling and seeing the other world with the U.S. Air Force on several tours, this continued during other job opportunities. Hobbies include playing golf at the drop of a hat, writing, and drawing designs for future space travels. Currently married and residing in Atlanta Georgia working for a major aerospace company.

Book preview

Prologue

It was catalogued by most academic standards as just your typical astrological ball of dirt and rock, one that you might find anywhere in the galaxy. Most space travelers would avoid it, ignoring it as insignificant and a danger to stellar navigation, especially since it orbited adjacent to a huge ever-expanding red giant. The unremitting death throes of the star produced torrential gravitational forces and radiation that would eventually extinguish any evidence of past existence of both bodies in one last cataclysmic explosion. Examined in years past, the esteemed experts in the astrological field said that the ball of rock was either a long dead planet due to the red giant or perhaps it was a large moon of some destroyed inner planet. Theoretically, the cataclysmic explosion of a planet would have thrown the body further into space. Over time, the pull of gravity would settle it safely into the present orbit. As the lone vigil within the system, its fate now was to circle the star and bear witness to the last days of the once-bright star.

Similar in physical size to the Earth, one might naturally make assumptions that life in some form may have existed across the surface at one time in the past. The scorched surface, absent of any atmosphere due to the torrential and constant blast of gases from the nearby star, made life impossible within at least the last several million years. Still, using a bit of imagination would lead one to possibly relate the existing landmarks to something from their home planet.

In many areas, there were long ridges of tall jagged mountains that ran north to south and towered over the plains at up to thirty miles high. The surface texture indicated that, at some time, they must have risen above what might once have been vast seas of water. If there was once surface moisture, it now floated as individual molecules, stripped away from the surface by the torrid temperatures of the star, wandering the dark coldness of space. Each distinct blemish across the surface was created from eons’ erosion, replaced by the ever-present tidal forces of the red giant. Between the ridges of mountains, there were huge barren flat plains, which had been exposed when the atmosphere had dissipated and allowed the seas to boil away. The only marks littering the huge expanse of soil were from errant impacts of roving rocks caught in the gravitational field of the planet. What might have existed there in a normal environment before the destruction?

Now, after untold centuries of solitude, a different form of life had returned to the planet, unexpectedly and with an entirely different motivation.

The ominous glow of the giant red star continued to grow brighter as it rose from below the horizon, highlighting the interior of the shuttle. Amazing as this point of nature was, it did not hold the attention of the pilot. Another point of light on the console in front of him held his attention. He stared intently as the one set of lights continued to blink bright green. While placing the sequence numbers in the computer, all he could think of were the armed fighters hovering in orbit above him, ready to pounce on him if he was wrong. Realizing he was not breathing, he let out a deep breath. With the red glow rising in the distance, he knew that time was running out. He had to be off the ground and in the safety of space behind the planet before it rose above the horizon.

Nervously reaching over to the computer keypad, he again verified the link to the central surface computer. The feed was the only hope for the ship to launch. Deep down he knew that all that stood between life and death was a simple set of numbers. If the panel lights indicating ‘up-lock’ remained red as the sun rose, the operation would fail. As he watched, the second set of lights finally changed from red to steady green and acknowledged that the computer had finished loading the orbital profile and the launch codes were correct. Their efforts would be successful.

Thank God for that, he gasped in relief, leaning back into the seat.

With the proper authorization code and the launch trajectory set, it meant that the fighters circling above would not interfere as the ship left. Out the windows, he could see that the other vessels that landed with him earlier were also preparing to leave. Suited technicians, burdened with equipment, scurried about as they cleared the area around each ship. They also had to be inside shelters before the sunrise. It would be soon now.

Each of the other ships was identical to his, light transport ships that brought supplies to the facility. Stolen information showed that ships brought supplies to the facility on a somewhat regular basis, approximately every sixty days. The delivery dates were never the same; always random as surface operations controlled entry to the planet tightly—the fighters above proved that point. Many presumed that the military controlled everything that went on here.

As he continued to prepare the ship for launch, the voice of the ground chief came over the headsets, indicating that they had finished refueling the ship. Glancing over toward the nose of the ship, he could see the ground chief waving below. He also indicated with a hand gesture that the cargo handlers would be done in less than five minutes. Waiting, he could not resist the temptation. With a glance up to his left, he could see a dim gleam. He could barely see the two heavily armed fighters off in the distance disappearing over the horizon. They were moving in high orbit, right where they were supposed to be, and they would probably be the biggest obstacle in this whole operation. While staring into space, his headset crackled.

Shuttle 3, prepare for departure using the coded vector Alpha One corridor.

Roger Control, request a temporary hold. I have a small internal problem with a coolant leak in the main tank. It doesn’t seem I fixed it upon landing earlier.

What is the status of the leak?

Radiation is rising slightly within the port drive section, but is currently still within the tolerable level. I thought it was fixed upon landing, but the line ruptured again.

Understand your condition Shuttle 3. We have technicians being dispatched to assist you with repairs.

Negative Control on sending the technicians. No time, so standby. I’m working as fast as I can and have it under control. I just need a few more minutes. The ground chief said I have five minutes. Should be plenty of time.

There were a few moments with no answer, then, This is Control. Understand your situation and authorize your delay. A decontamination unit is standing by if required.

Roger Control, will notify upon completion… Thanks.

They’re still buying the story, he thought.

The landing pad that the control center had authorized him to land the ship on was located on the outskirts of the facility. It was now time to check with the other team already on the surface since time was quickly running out. Knowing that the facility monitored every frequency, he keyed in a special scrambler unit installed in the communication transmitter. It would broadcast at a very low frequency and would be scrambled just enough that the control center on the planet would think it was background noise from space or from equipment at the facility. After a deep breath, he spoke into the mike in a low hush, almost a whisper.

Unit 1, report your progress.

Anything more, he knew, might have come over very loud on the other end. Not knowing their situation, he did not want to jeopardize the plan. Just a hiss or squeal, even in a headset set to low, would have spelled disaster. Once he transmitted, he waited. For several long seconds, there was no word. The other ships would be launching soon, and more of their precious time was slipping away. He wondered if he should try to contact them once more, but his instructions were to only ask once. His palms were covered in a layer of sweat as all he could do now was wait. There was no more time left. As he began to key the microphone, his headset crackled and a soft voice came on.

In position… Phase 2 is in progress.

Extraction in three, acknowledge.

Roger.

That would be the final communication between him and the team until they arrived at the pad. On his last word, he could not believe the sweat now pouring from his forehead. As he wiped his brow, he could feel that sweat covered his entire body. His nervousness could no longer be contained. Leaning back, he took several deep breaths and tried to control himself. He needed all his mental faculties about him to complete the operation. It was now only a matter of getting them on board and leaving with their prize. The alternative was failure and having to destroy everything and everyone who knew for fear of further detection and retribution. They could not stop at this point.

Before he could think further, the command center suddenly signaled the ships to begin their initial launch sequence. Four squares of light suddenly appeared on the edge of all the pads illuminating the dark surroundings. In the distance, he could see the other ships bathed in bright light.

Shuttle 3, indicate your status immediately!

Just two minutes Control… two more minutes, maybe one and I’ll be done.

Roger, no more.

On the other side of the landing pads, behind the main maintenance hangar, an obscure building suddenly exploded. Pieces of heavy concrete, steel, and debris sailed high into the sky surrounded by a huge firestorm. Within seconds, a second building exploded, followed by another. Each explosion was on the opposite side of the complex near the living area and guard barracks. From the low hills nearby, traces of laser fire rained down. From the shuttle windows, it looked as if a small army was attacking the facility. He could just make out the blaze of shots beginning to come from the facility, probably the station guards.

All shuttles launch, came the screaming voice of the control officer over the speaker. Clear the pads immediately or be destroyed!

Looking to the right, he could see that the number One shuttle located on the far pad was already beginning to lift off. Columns of flame seared the hardened surface, scaring it and raising a cloud of surrounding dust. He knew he would have to leave shortly, right after the second shuttle lifted off, so he had to be completely ready when they arrived. He quickly began his launch sequence. Glancing at the monitor of the cargo bay several times, his anticipation of seeing figures coming through the hatch rose. With the ship now in final launch mode, his eyes constantly shifted back and forth between the cargo monitor and the glowing launch ignition button beside him.

Where are you guys? he mumbled, wondering.

Suddenly, the second shuttle blasted away from the pad just as another explosion rocked the facility. They were running desperately short of time. If the team did not arrive now, that meant they were not coming. Glancing at the crude red switch attached to the arm of the seat, he realized it meant that he was not going anywhere either.

Before he could think further, there was movement on the monitor, and he could see dark-dressed objects passing quickly through the hatch opening into the back of the cargo hold. His mind counted as his eyes strained to see the one object that would mean success. In seconds, the heavy bag came through the hatch, carried between two figures. As he watched it move off the screen, a voice came over the speaker.

Get us out of here, a voice yelled. Right now!

My pleasure, gentlemen, he replied, grinning in relief.

With his smile growing, he closed the hatch and, leaning back, began his launch. Quickly flipping switches, he pressed the launch button and slid the levers forward. The shuttle instantly began to shudder and rumble as the drive engines came to life. Groaning, the rising power of the shuttle engines began to win against the pull of the planet’s gravity and slowly lift the vessel into space. With the features on the planet’s surface growing smaller, he looked out the window and could see intense lights blazing throughout the entire facility. Small points of light moved everywhere. With the increase in altitude, what was happening below him was now irrelevant. The computer indicated that the phase drive was fully charged and available.

Now is the time, he mumbled.

A glint off to the side appeared, and he knew it was the fighters either running or coming for them. He was taking no chances with the fighters, pressing the throttle to maximum. The groan of the engines increased, and in a crimson blast, space twisted before them. Slowly at first, the shuttle slid into the opening and then quickly disappeared.

Chapter 1

Central Capital Building, City of New Eden, Planet Titan 2

Damn, one guard mumbled.

The security guards, sitting behind a counter just off the main lobby, turned to each other and continued to grumble softly as they watched the heavy snow begin to fall outside. With their shift coming to a close, and without saying another word, they knew their journey home would be wet and miserable. Both of them turned and watched the low-hanging clouds from the night quickly blossom in the mild heat and fill every inch of the gray sky outside the building. It made the morning sun, rising up over the mountains in the distance, nothing more than a pinpoint glow of orange. As the sun rose, the glimmering glow became dimmer until it was simply a point of light in the sky. Finally, one of the guards turned and began to snicker.

Why does this always happen just before my day off, he said, still laughing.

Probably because your wife hates you, the other added.

I suppose you know her that well, he chuckled. There was a pause as they glared at each other. Still… that wouldn’t surprise me.

Hey, it’s only from what you’ve told me.

Right…

Suddenly, a growing noise outside caught their attention. Glancing toward the front of the building, out of the swirling haze, they watched as the local city transport pulled up outside. As it slowly came to a stop, waves of sloppy half-melted snow from the roadway splashed up and covered the surface of the outside platform. When the transport doors opened, a mass of people began to scurry across the short distance of the open courtyard, slipping and sliding as the water quickly froze. Rushing inside the building as if it were the last stretch of some marathon, the rising voices shattered the guards’ calm silence. Each person mumbled at the inconvenience of the sudden snowstorm.

From their small alcove, the eyes of the guards scrutinized each person who filed past them as they headed for the elevators. One stranger, his clothes and shoes heavily blanketed in a thick layer of snow, seemed more disturbed than the others did. From his rumpled appearance, he apparently had fallen in the snow outside as he came off the transport. He left a trail of melting snow as he stumbled blindly across the slippery lobby floor, jostled by the other people. Slipping and almost falling several times, he was ignored by the other people who continued to head for the row of elevators against the back wall. The stranger angled through the crowd and walked straight across the foyer toward the desk and the guards. Their eyes instantly noticed the glistening metal briefcase he gripped in one hand. Approaching the counter, he continued to mumble to himself. Within a few steps of the counter, one of the guards stood up and moved off slightly to the side, delicately gripping the handle of his pistol. Stopping in front of the counter, the seated guard acknowledged him.

Good morning, sir.

Man, it’s absolutely terrible outside, the stranger stated, never looking at either guard as he brushed the layer of snow from his shoulders. Both guards remained solemn, watching as the stranger began to furiously shake the flap of his coat to remove the final remnants of the snow. With a quick glance toward the snow outside, he inspected his clothes and went on about the weather conditions. I’ve never seen it snow so damn much in my whole life in such a short period of time. You’d think the idiots who built this place might have realized this would happen and would have constructed a covering, something for people who work.

Yeah, you’d certainly think so, the guard replied nonchalantly. His eyes remained focus on the strangers every movement. And this is the height of summer.

Oh, it probably has to do with that depletion of the ozone thing those high and mighty scientists are always talking about. I just wish that…

The stranger suddenly stopped talking and finally looked up at them. From their expression, he realized they waited for something other than his continuing rhetoric on the sudden weather change. Knowing the guard’s casual comment was important, his mind quickly came up with the corresponding code sequence.

Sir?

Uh… I guess I may have to go to a drier climate, like maybe Earth—Egypt or the southern tropics. That’s only for a vacation, you understand… someday soon.

Thank you. Please, sir, your identification.

Complying with the request without another word, the stranger instantly reached inside the flap of his jacket without thinking. As his hand slid inside his jacket, he hesitated, freezing as his eyes darted over to the guard standing a few feet away. He could see the muscles of his hand tense up instantly. Sorry, he commented. Obviously, he had moved faster than they had anticipated. Now, maintaining direct eye contact with the guard, he slowly withdrew his hand, producing his identification card between two of his fingers.

It was nothing more than a square card made out of a polymer plastic about four inches long and two inches wide. It didn’t have any type of physical writing on it or anything else to identify what it was or who owned the card. Imbedded within the thin material, there were three diamond holograms, each different sizes and each connected by thin black lines. A gold ring etched deep into the top portion indicated the top. Only a special company scanner could read the security information within the card through that ring. The plate was designed so it appeared to be a normal credit voucher anyone would carry. Handing it cautiously over to the guard, he could see the other guard slide around the end of the counter, even farther to his left.

Thank you for your cooperation, sir.

No problem, he said, watching the guard. It’s just been one of those days.

I understand completely.

The stranger stood patiently, glancing around the area as the guard verified his identity. His eyes scanned the wall above the guard. On the curved wall behind the counter, he could see several small reflective plates, each about a foot square, all spaced in a line at regular intervals. Each plate blended meticulously with the flowing design of the building. The countertop had several identical plates across the surface. He figured at least one or more of the plates on the wall had a video monitor on the other side so that other guards, probably somewhere else in the building, could check this portion of the lobby.

Dropping the identification card into a metal slot, the guard and the stranger stared at each other until it popped up from the slot a little over a second later. As it moved, one of the clear plates framed in metal on the counter began to produce a dim glow. Behind him, he could hear a sizzling sound from the energy of the activated force field. Two half-orbs mounted on either side of the glowing plate began to pulse. A hazy holographic screen materialized about a foot or so above the top of the counter. It appeared as a whisper of smoke, but almost solid. While it took shape, he could see that it had risen from the counter and was now about face high.

Please stand a bit closer, sir, at arm’s length, and position your face directly into the center of the screen while holding your hand on the plate.

The guard watched as the stranger stepped toward the screen and placed his palm on top of the plate as directed. He stood perfectly still and watched as the screen became almost square before moving out and conforming to the shape of his face. After it surrounded his face, the hazy screen flashed several times, burning his eyes. His skin began to crawl from the electricity within the field. When the field de-energized seconds later, a small green light beside his hand came on. The seated guard nodded to the other guard as he pulled the card from the slot and handed it back to the stranger. When his card had been removed from the slot, the screen in front of his face disappeared, and he produced a quiet sigh. Reaching over the counter for his card, there was a hiss off to his right. A small elevator door beside the standing guard was now open.

Thank you for your cooperation, sir. You can proceed.

No problem. Thanks.

Securing his grip on the briefcase, he produced a cautious grin for the seated guard and tucked the identification card back into his jacket. Stepping past the guard and inside the open door, he turned and scanned the walls. He could see only a simple control panel containing one green button. There was no numbering above the door or anywhere to indicate floors or anything. With only one option, he reached over and pushed it. The metal doors promptly closed, and the single light above him dimmed. He had no idea where he would end up, and his training told him he didn’t want to know.

After a few moments, the elevator doors suddenly opened, which surprised him. There had been no sensation of movement, either starting or stopping. Stepping out, there were small open rooms, about ten to each side, with another door directly opposite of him. Walking over, he opened the door and stepped through. On the other side of the door, there was a slightly larger room, and he could see a woman sitting behind a small desk off to one side.

Well, good morning, sir. She instantly beamed upon seeing him. How are you?

Fine thanks. I’m Agent Thomas, he said, approaching her. I believe I’m expected.

You certainly are. Sir, may I have your identification card?

Producing his card once more, she took it from him and dropped the card into a metal slot in the corner of her desk similar to the one with the previous guards. While some computer checked his card, he quickly glanced around behind her. There wasn’t any of the usual things that you might associate with a typical assistant’s position. No paper on her desk, files, file cabinets, flowers, plants, or even a personal picture of the family; just dead, empty space. All that he could see was a large computer monitor and keyboard located on the other corner of her desk.

Over to his left, he could see the same small reflective plates he had noticed in the lobby around the edge near the ceiling. Again, security must monitor the area from somewhere else in the building. Obviously, they did not want just anyone walking into the area without them knowing. As he looked up at one of the plates, he flashed a large smile and a quick wave of his hand. Shaking his head at the childish act, he turned and began to say something to the woman. Before he could open his mouth, his card popped up from the slot and she handed it back to him.

Thank you sir. He’s waiting for you so please, go right in.

Thanks.

Her arm lifted, and she pointed over to the door beside her. She stared up at him and continued to beam a large smile as he headed for the door. Knowing that it should not take long, he didn’t bother removing his coat and instead, went over and grabbed the doorknob. All his orders told him was to deliver the briefcase and then leave. Before he could even turn the handle, he could hear the soft click as it unlocked and popped open slightly. Opening the door the rest of the way, he walked inside.

The office was quite dark as he entered, nothing resembling the lighted hallways or anything else in the building. Only two small lights on either side of a large desk located on the other side of the room glowed dimly. The amount of light the desk lamps produced did not highlight any of the features within the room besides the desk.

Come in Agent Thomas, he heard from the darkness.

He could then see a chair moving behind the desk and, shutting the door behind him, walked across the room toward it. Stopping a few feet in front of the desk, he stood patiently and waited for the man to finish whatever he was in the process of doing.

While standing in front of the desk, his eyes slowly became accustomed to the meager lighting. Scanning around the walls of the room, he saw that the office was decorated much the same as the rest of the building, except that behind the desk there was a large fish tank filled with all sorts of tropical fish. Other than the tank, there was nothing on the walls or even the top of his desk, just a man at a desk fumbling with a computer terminal.

The chair turned to the side and the agent could finally see the man clearly. Studying him, he looked like any other executive might. Sharply dressed, the jacket of his pin-striped suit hung over the back of his chair. His black hair was bushy and swept back over his head. The old-style reading glasses he wore were pushed down onto the end of his nose. It allowed him to tilt his head so he could see over the top of them. From the way he was pecking away at the computer keyboard, typing was not one of his strong suits. As the man tried to type, Agent Thomas wondered how he knew what he was typing, since there was no monitor anywhere—or, at least none that he could see.

There, damn it! the man declared as he turned completely toward him.

Agent Thomas, sir, he said, straightening.

Ah yes, he said with an inspecting tone, I’ve been expecting your arrival. So you have a special delivery for me?

Yes sir, he said, lifting the metal case.

The man pointed to the middle of the desk as he rummaged through a drawer. When he lifted the case to the desk, his free hand pulled back his jacket sleeve and exposed the wide band around his wrist. It was connected to the security wire of the briefcase handle. The man behind the desk produced an odd-looking instrument similar to a pair of large tweezers with attachments. At the ends of the instrument were sharp blades and a guide bar.

So the case has never left your sight since it was given to you? he said, looking over the rim of his glasses at him, inspecting the band.

No sir, never for a moment.

A small sigh of expectance escaped from the man as he continued to examine the band around the agent’s wrist. Twisting it slightly from side to side, he began to look for the special markings on the metal indicating where it joined. With a smile, he found the two thin red lines about an inch long near the center of the metal. Slipping the blades carefully under each side, the guide bar touched the surface, and then he squeezed the ends together slightly. The cuff instantly popped apart, and since the metal of the band was stiff, it only opened slightly.

Reaching over, he snapped the band fully open, allowing the agent to remove his wrist and take a step backward. Standing before him, he rubbed his sore wrist. The metal band, locked around his wrist for over ten hours, had left a wide red ring on his skin. Lifting the case from the desk, the man placed it on the floor beside his chair as he sat down. He then looked over at the agent, and producing a feeble smile, waved him away.

Thank you Agent Thomas. That’ll be all.

Not saying another word to the man, the agent nodded and left the office. Watching the agent until the door shut behind him, the man then took the briefcase from the floor and placed it back onto the middle of the desk. He then leaned over to the intercom.

Linda, hold all calls please.

Yes sir.

Taking his identification card from his jacket pocket, he gingerly slid the edge through a small slot running across the length of the top edge. When it came out the other side, he could hear the internal security locks produce a soft click, and the lid opened. A small door opened in the bottom corner of the case and a tube, the internal explosives deactivated by his card, slid out into his hand. Carefully placing the tube in the drawer, he let out a sigh of relief as he closed the drawer. Opening the case, he saw only one item inside—a red plastic folder, which he took out and placed in his lap.

Getting comfortable in his chair, he leaned back and put his feet up on the edge of the desk. Taking a file card from the folder, he placed it in the viewer unit on the desk and picked up the remote control. Pressing the ‘play’ button, a large holographic screen appeared on the wall, and the first page of the file appeared. His jaws slowly began to tighten up as he carefully read the file while glancing over at the images. Each word in the file and the pictures on the wall intensified his thoughts. There were seven video clips included, according to the file.

As he quickly began playing each file, the first one disturbed him the most. It showed the entranceway of a vault and four guards lying dead on the ground in pools of blood. Then it showed the inside of the vault, and his jaws began to tighten even more. The onsite supervisor making the report indicated they had found all the security protocols in place during the time of the deaths and no further information indicating any outside links. On the last page of the file, the conclusion indicated the attack was an inside effort. When he had read the entire file and viewed the other clips several more times, he yanked out the card from the slot and angrily tossed it back into the briefcase, feeling disgusted.

Damn it, he snapped angrily. They should have listened to me.

Since day one, he had a feeling in his gut that something like this would eventually happen, but nobody had bothered to listen. He had suggested they move the majority of the project to another high security location immediately after they had found the thing. The company had overruled the move after listening to the scientific community. They had whined constantly about disturbing anything until they had a chance to study any hidden implications. Producing a low grumble, he ran his fingers through his hair. Pulling out a small handset from his pocket, he dialed a specially coded number from the memory index and waited for the connection across a secure line.

Hello, a haggard voice responded.

Collier sir. Sorry for bothering you at this late hour, and I do know the time difference, but we have a grave situation. With the call, he knew the man would not want him to hesitate and get right to the point. Sir, I have just received information that the special research lab at Memorial Station has been, well… compromised.

What! the voice suddenly gasped. How, when?

We are not exactly sure sir. The initial hard copy report came to me from the onsite supervisor only moments ago by special courier. According to this report, the scientists inside the lab notified security personnel at 0300 local time, approximately seventy-two hours ago. That was sometime just after the attack. A special detachment of reinforced rangers arrived at the entrance within minutes and found all four sentries on duty dead. Entering the lab, they found the interior totally ransacked, and a closer examination found that the two scientists working on the project at that time were also dead.

Never mind the people—what about the contents, was it still intact?

Unfortunately sir, not all of it.

What do you mean, not all of it?

It appears that the attackers set off several explosions, specifically positioned inside, to mask their entry. The detachment indicated that the explosions engulfed the majority of the lab in flames. By the time damage control units arrived and got it under control, most of the files, along with the cataloged physical contents were destroyed.

Listen, I don’t care if the whole bloody mountain was on fire or blown up in the explosions. All I want to know is the status of the A5 unit.

Of course sir, that was the team’s first concern. Unfortunately, we found what we believed to be the A5 unit had been destroyed, along with any corresponding files. The investigating team is assessing if it is the actual unit or not. It appears they even accessed the backup data stored in the core of the facility’s main computer. The files and the entire contents appeared to be gone. There is one item—the timescale shows this entry happened sometime well before the explosions. We have a computer team trying to recover the files from the core unit at this time, but so far it has proven to be fruitless.

Shit!

I’m sorry sir, but there are several interesting facts.

Really, what are those?

Shortly after the attack on the lab, our intelligence station intercepted several coded transmissions to an unknown destination. The messages suggest that one of our field operatives, code name Sentinel 3, sent the messages. Due to other circumstances, the station has had the operative under surveillance. Sentinel 3 might be the carrier or the destination.

All the data they removed from the lab, you believe that this Sentinel 3 has or will have it?

"Sir, our efforts are progressing in that direction, and it is our belief that the explosions and fire were merely to cover up the disappearance of the data and make it appear as an accident