POV: Jake Williams
The flight back to Fort Respawn was quiet, which gave me time to think about explosives. Specifically, about the kind of explosives that could disable enhanced soldiers without killing the people they were supposed to protect.
It was a challenging tactical problem. Enhanced soldiers were tough, fast, and equipped with armor that could shrug off standard ammunition. But they were still human under all that technology, which meant they had the same vulnerabilities as anyone else.
They just had better protection.
"Jake, you're thinking too hard," Sarah said from the seat across from me. "I can practically hear the gears grinding."
"Just working through some technical problems," I replied. "How do you neutralize enhanced soldiers without permanent casualties?"
"Why do you assume we need to neutralize them? They're victims in this situation."
"Victims with military training and advanced equipment who are being paid to kidnap people like us."
"Point taken."
Tank looked up from his tactical planning. "What kind of solutions are you considering?"
"Electromagnetic pulse devices could disable their equipment temporarily. Sonic weapons might disrupt their neural interfaces. Chemical agents could..." I paused, reconsidering. "Actually, chemical agents are probably a bad idea. Too many variables."
"What about those cascade failure techniques you've been working on?" Pixel asked. "Could you trigger equipment malfunctions instead of explosions?"
"Maybe. If I could get close enough to their systems." I pulled out my tablet and started sketching some ideas. "The neural interfaces are vulnerable during data transmission. A precisely timed electromagnetic pulse could cause temporary disconnection without permanent damage."
"Temporary being how long?"
"Fifteen to twenty minutes, depending on the system's reset protocols."
"That's not enough time to extract them and get clear," Tank said.
"No, but it's enough time to even the odds."
"How?"
I grinned. "By turning their own equipment against them."
The briefing room at Fort Respawn looked different when we got back. More people, more equipment, and a level of urgency that suggested things were moving faster than anyone had planned.
Director Collins was there, along with several other people in suits who had the look of intelligence professionals. But the person who caught my attention was a woman in her fifties wearing a lab coat over military fatigues.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Colonel Stevens began, "I'd like you to meet Dr. Elizabeth Morrison, the lead designer of the Respawn system."
Dr. Morrison stepped forward, studying us with the intense gaze of someone evaluating a complex equation. "So you're the squad that survived contact with the rogue elements."
"We got lucky," Tank said.
"No, you got smart. There's a difference." She activated a holographic display showing the technical specifications of our equipment. "Your neural interfaces are second-generation technology. Enhanced processing power, improved security protocols, and most importantly, adaptive countermeasures."
"Countermeasures?" I asked.
"Defense mechanisms designed to prevent unauthorized access or manipulation. The first-generation systems were vulnerable to hacking. Yours are not."
"How vulnerable?" Pixel asked.
"Completely. First-generation systems could be remotely accessed, controlled, or shut down by anyone with the right encryption keys."
"And someone has those keys," Tank said. It wasn't a question.
"Someone has those keys," Dr. Morrison confirmed. "We believe it's Dr. Richard Vance, one of the original developers of the Respawn program."
Director Collins pulled up a personnel file. "Dr. Vance left the program eighteen months ago after a dispute over ethical guidelines. He felt the technology should be commercialized for civilian applications."
"And when that didn't happen?" Sarah asked.
"He took his expertise elsewhere. We've tracked him to a private research facility in Eastern Europe, funded by a consortium of corporations and government entities."
"The same consortium that's been recruiting enhanced soldiers," Pixel said.
"Exactly. Dr. Vance has been promising them an army of enhanced soldiers with first-generation vulnerabilities. Soldiers who can be controlled remotely."
"Slave soldiers," I said.
"Essentially, yes."
The room was quiet for a moment as we absorbed this information.
"So what's the plan?" Tank asked.
Dr. Morrison smiled, and it wasn't a particularly pleasant expression. "The plan is to give Dr. Vance exactly what he wants. Four enhanced soldiers who appear to have first-generation vulnerabilities."
"Appear to have?" Sarah asked.
"Your interfaces will be modified to mimic first-generation systems while retaining all second-generation capabilities. To any external observer, you'll look like soldiers who can be controlled."
"But we won't actually be controlled," I said.
"Correct. You'll be able to access their systems, learn their operational procedures, and identify their key personnel."
"And then?"
"Then you'll do what you do best. Cause problems."
I liked Dr. Morrison.
The modification process took six hours and involved more needles than I was comfortable with. Dr. Morrison's team had to adjust our neural interfaces to broadcast false data while maintaining their actual functionality – essentially creating a software disguise for our brains.
"The modifications are temporary," Dr. Morrison explained as we recovered in the medical bay. "Twelve hours maximum before the masking protocols degrade."
"What happens if we're discovered before then?" Sarah asked.
"Then you'll have to rely on your training and improvisation skills."
"Story of our lives," Tank said.
"There's one more thing," Dr. Morrison added. "The extraction plan."
"What extraction plan?" I asked.
"There isn't one. This is a one-way mission until you can establish secure communications and coordinate your own extraction."
"So we're on our own."
"Completely."
I looked around at my teammates. Tank was studying tactical data with the focused intensity of someone planning a very dangerous operation. Sarah was checking her medical supplies and probably calculating how long she could keep us alive in hostile territory. Pixel was analyzing communication protocols and system vulnerabilities.
"You know what?" I said. "This is going to be fun."
"Fun?" Sarah asked.
"Think about it. We're going to infiltrate a secret organization, pretend to be mind-controlled soldiers, gather intelligence on an international conspiracy, and then blow up their entire operation from the inside."
"That's your definition of fun?"
"That's my definition of the best mission ever."
Tank smiled. "Jake's right. This is exactly the kind of operation we trained for."
"We trained for this?"
"We trained to adapt, improvise, and overcome impossible situations using whatever resources we could find. This is just another impossible situation."
"With higher stakes," Pixel added.
"And better equipment," I said, examining the modified explosive devices Dr. Morrison's team had provided. "Non-lethal takedown charges, EMP grenades, and something called 'neural disruptors.'"
"What do neural disruptors do?"
"Temporarily scramble the communication between neural interfaces and their host systems. Basically, they cause enhanced soldiers to lose coordination and tactical awareness for about ten minutes."
"That's useful."
"Very useful. Especially if we're dealing with multiple enhanced opponents."
"Speaking of which," Tank said, "how many enhanced soldiers are we expecting to encounter?"
Director Collins pulled up intelligence estimates. "Potentially dozens. The organization has been recruiting from multiple Respawn facilities for over a year."
"So we're outnumbered."
"Significantly."
"What about local support?"
"None. The facility is located in a remote area with no allied assets nearby."
"Transportation?"
"You'll be inserted via commercial aircraft with false identities. Extraction will be your responsibility."
I looked around the room at all the serious faces staring at us. "You know, when you put it that way, this sounds less like a mission and more like an elaborate form of suicide."
"That's why we're sending you," Dr. Morrison said. "Because you're the only squad that's proven capable of surviving impossible situations."
"We've survived one impossible situation," Sarah corrected.
"Which is one more than anyone else."
"Fair point."
Tank stood up, looking around at each of us. "Final question: are we doing this?"
"Always," Sarah said.
"You got it, boss," I added.
"Affirmative," Pixel confirmed.
"Then let's go save some mind-controlled soldiers and prevent an international incident."
"Just another day at the office," I said.
"Jake?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time, let's try to find a quieter office."