Resonant Frequency

Res had been alerted by Strix, (an AI dedicated to the client), that a big nodal point in the client’s data stream was imminent; in other words, something bad was going to happen based on current and emerging patterns. This was a big deal. Strix had been trained on the client since day one and knew every little movement, mannerism, and detail. It knew enough to know something was wrong. Res followed the hunch and accessed all current data, from the client’s private quadcopter to the hotel actors’ phones. Within seconds, Strix had identified 3 key members of Golden Gaia, and a recommendation to terminate was given. Res thought it over; if she could simply tell the client to avoid the meeting and explain later, no termination would be necessary. As a pacifist, she always wanted to take the nonviolent option. That was, until she and Strix both noticed the actors were armed with HK MP109’s, banned for 20 years in the US for their horrific accuracy aided by ammunition that explodes and fragments on contact, with an added bonus of white phosphorus to burn through level 3 soft body armor. Even the military banned it due to the Geneva Convention. That was all the justification she needed.

Res spun around to her emergency mitigation terminal and flipped the ARMED switch to on. A single amber light on the control panel indicated that it was ready. A drop of sweat rolled off her forehead and onto her keyboard, her heart racing with the anticipation of what was to come next. She took a few breaths and flipped the activate switch. 15 live video streams suddenly filled a wall of monitors before her. Game on.

In just seconds, an entire wave of carefully timed and coordinated events took place. First, the client’s quadcopter landed on hotel’s helipad, locked the interior doors, and revealed an anti-personnel turret aimed at the rooftop access door. Second, the hotel power and phones went out, along with all cellular communication within a 4-block radius. The red emergency lighting came on just in time for the hapless actors and unprepared Golden Gaia operatives to see some things moving very quietly, very quickly, flashes of red and black chrome converging on their position from seemingly all directions. One terrorist made a weak attempt to fire on the Shadows; Res could see the gunman through the thermal-optic night vision eyes of the Shadows as they advanced. Before he could fire a shot, a wet clicking sound was heard as one Shadow removed the gunman’s hand at the wrist, still gripping the gun. It used a modified high tension garrote system, silently looping a thin cable around the gunman’s gun and wrist then instantly tightening the cable by retracting all the slack at once. It was gruesomely efficient. Local SWAT was alerted to the hotel activity but it would be minutes before they could deploy, so the rest of the Shadows went to work, identifying targets in nanoseconds and using their cable systems to remove limbs.

Panic broke out, as everyone tried to flee for the exits, which the building had already sealed shut, along with the elevators. However, due to local fire codes, the stairwells remained unlocked. One actor bolted for the stairwell, and began sprinting upwards, looking for an open door on another floor. He noticed all the firehose doors were opened and empty on each floor, within the stairwell. As he made it to the rooftop exit door, shaking and full of adrenaline, he reached for the doorknob. Another wet click, and he watched his own hand simply fall to the ground, suddenly severed at the wrist. Before he could grab the knob with his left hand, telemetry data had been fed from the Shadow to the quadcopter turret on the roof, and with one shot of its silent rail gun, a 3-inch square metal projectile punched through the door and the actor’s chest with cruel precision. Res was impressed, stunned, and frightened by the terrifying efficiency of the Shadows and their coordination to trap and eliminate a dozen targets throughout the hotel, all while protecting the client on the roof. In less than 3 minutes, an assassination attempt had been absolutely thwarted, a terrorist organization had been damaged, and the client had only received two messages on his secure transmission line: “Mitigation in Process, Please Stay in your Vehicle” and “All Clear, Your Angel Will Contact You With Details, Rerouting Flight Destination”.

When SWAT arrived to the hotel, they saw no traces of the Shadows, only the surgical bloodbath and severed limbs scattered around which the Shadows had left behind. The actors and GG members were easily subdued, arrested, and transported to a local hospital. One officer noticed a distinct lack of bloody footprints or shell casings or anything that would normally suggest a skirmish they would deploy for, but did spend a few seconds puzzled at an angular bloody footprint in the lobby. It didn’t belong to anything he recognized. Someone else saw a little blood running down one of the closed firehose boxes in the stairwell as the rooftop actor’s body was being retrieved.

Res, as she saw each monitor slowly go dark post-mitigation, wondered if her heart would explode. Taking deep breaths, she laughed and cried as her adrenalin levels crashed from monumental levels. She didn’t know whether to pop the champagne or a Xanax. So she chose both. But not before securely communicating with the client, who would only be given broad strokes as to what took place and what was surely avoided. She kept it brief as it would be subject to review. The client thanked her over and over and was overjoyed with the service. But, she warned him to not be so reckless next time and to consider a personal assistant. This elicited big laughs from the client and with one last, quick thank you, he disconnected.