AI Era: Agent AI

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2031/166/1755 - EYES ONLY

(TS) DEEP COVER AGENT ALICIA INGERSOLL DISAPPEARED ON [CLASSIFIED] WHEN SHE AND HER PARTNER [NAME REDACTED] ENTERED CANADA FOR THE PURPOSE OF AN INTELLIGENCE GATHERING EXERCISE. THEIR CONTACT/EVALUATOR [NAME REDACTED] ARRIVED AT THE PRE-ARRANGED MEETING POINT AND THE AGENTS NEVER ARRIVED. THE AGENCY IS DOING EVERYTHING POSSIBLE TO ESTABLISH THEIR WHEREABOUTS.

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US Senator Amos Nourse slammed the folder marked Top Secret closed, "So what?" he demanded with an angry scowl. "You have two agents that failed an evaluation, give them a spanking and get back to business. What does that have to do with me?"

The messenger cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable; his driver stood at the door impatiently. The senator was giving a late-night speech on the senate floor, and he had kept this messenger and his driver waiting but the senator had a standing rule, business first, bullshit second. His constituents' interests were business, everything else was Washington bullshit. It's a good rule, it's kept him in office for three terms. "There's reasons we can't go into at this time sir," the messenger said. Normally this meant that this bullshit was going to blow up at any moment and you don't want to get any on you.

"Then what the hell is all this classified and redacted crap? I'm the chairman of the goddamn senate intelligence committee!"

The Agency messenger looked upset but kept his cool. "Two reasons, sir. The first being that this is an ongoing investigation into Agency malfeasance, and we don't want to compromise the investigation, not with the election being just a few months away."

"And I suppose the other is that "plausible deniability" bullshit?"

"Exactly sir."

The senator took a cigar out of the humidor on his desk and fiddled with it. He took a nickel-plated cutter and expertly snipped the cap from the $50 cigar then toasted the foot with his five-jet cigar lighter. He then puffed the cigar leisurely, making sure he got a good, even burn. The Agency messenger was going to remind the senator that smoking was not allowed in these offices, but he's seen worse being smoked, snorted, and fucked in these government offices. For his part, the senator didn't particularly want to smoke a cigar, but he needed a pause to think. Lighting his cigar gave him that pause. Satisfied that his cigar was burning properly, Senator Nourse returned his attention to the messenger. "Why are you bringing this to me son? We must have a dozen agents disappear every week, why are you bringing me this report?"

"Well sir, she is your niece..."

"She's my wife's cousin's niece, and my wife spoke to her week before last at a family barbeque up in Poughkeepsie, so Alicia has only been missing ten days tops, normal procedure is to notify the immediate family, not some fat cat cousin..." the senator counted on his fingers, "fifth cousin." He was lying to the messenger, he was closer to Alicia than familial relation indicated, much closer. After her father died in Afghanistan, he helped raise her. He got her an appointment to Annapolis and was there for her first salute as a newly minted Ensign, he was also there as she graduated from Seal training. He was there for her when an IED ended her Navy career, and he was there when she changed her name from Abilene Irons to her paternal grandmother's name to continue to honor her daddy, Alicia Ingersoll, when she became a full-fledged investigator for The Agency.

"Sir," the messenger looked even more uncomfortable. He sucked up some courage and said, "we believe that Agent Ingersoll has been turned."

The senator looked stricken, Agent Ingersoll was a top-level operative of an intelligence service so secret, so black that it doesn't just absorb light, light avoids it completely. Alicia is a member of the seal team of intelligence collection, nothing she touches will be declassified this century, even her favorite brand of fabric softener is classified. "Is this based on anything solid?"

The messenger merely nodded.

"Find her," rumbled the senator. "Find her right fucking now. I don't care what it takes, just find her and bring her here to me. If you can't bring her in, fucking kill yourself and have someone bring your body in and explain to me how you failed." He impatiently waved the messenger on his way and slumped back on his chair. Damn it! He loved that girl, what the hell had she gotten herself into?

*~~~~*~~~~⁰~~~~*~~~~*

Alicia Ingersoll gave up on counting the damage that the thugs had inflicted on her. The endless beatings and torture were bad enough, but when they started slashing her breasts and breaking her fingers, she gave up hope of getting out of this alive. It was only after they took a power drill to her kneecaps that she gave them everything, which wasn't much. They weren't looking for information, they just wanted to hear her cry.

According to her orders she was sent in by the US government on behalf of many governments to find out what was going on in Canada. Being originally from Ft. Erie, Ontario she was the natural choice to cross the border, collect the information, and make her way back to the free world with word of what was going on in what was once a very nice place. Ever since Canada went silent and erected their "Ice Wall" and closed their borders to everyone except Russia and China, the world was terrified. No NATO ally has ever jumped to "the other side" in the history of the alliance, and the idea that it could have been Canada was terrifying to all of Canada's former allies.

Not very long ago, Alicia had been isolated for 30 days of R&R, completely shut off from the entire world following a particularly ugly mission. She was sipping sweet rum drinks and napping on the beach of an Agency owned tropical atoll that the world thinks was nuked into glowing dust particles in the 1950s. To Agency personnel this little slice of heaven was known as Romeo 3. In truth it was an Agency PRC (Personnel Recovery Center), a tropical atoll containing a small hospital, psychiatric clinic, several bars, and the nicest 9-hole golf course in the South Pacific. An Island Paradise for stressed agents to unwind and prepare to go out and save the world once again. No news, no radio, no tv, no phones. Life is better that way.

Alicia was lying naked on the beach, breathless from fucking some faceless Agency wannabe when a messenger interrupted their cuddling with the call to battle, "You have a mission." Four days later she was dropped off near the Canadian border in a barren wheat field north of Peerless Montana, nothing around but miles and miles of more miles. You would need a compass to tell what was Montana and what was Saskatchewan. The plan the Agency gave her was simple. Move straight north across open fields and your partner will be waiting for you in a vehicle on Coal Creek Road. Take that dirt track north until you hit pavement and it becomes S Hill Road. Not South Hill Road, any local would know that it's known to cartographers as S Hill, to everyone else it's Shit Hill Road. Take that to Highway 2, turn right and when you hit Rock Glen, pull into the Rock Glen Motel and check in, a room has been reserved for Wallace and Adrianna Ingle. Their contact will meet them there.

Alicia made good time hiking north, the US/Canadian border was unmarked and unguarded and she didn't realize she was in Canada until she doublechecked her position with GPS. When she reached the meet-up point she was stunned to find that the driver of the car was Sidney Irving, whom everyone called Sid. Alicia and Sid hadn't seen each other in over a year, not since their divorce was final. "Sid," Alicia said in an abbreviated greeting after getting in the car.

"Alice," he replied. Sid is the only one alive to call her Alice, and Alicia intends to keep it that way. They rode in silence for a long time, the only thing visible was the dirt road ahead, the land flat and the road was arrow straight. He finally broke the silence. "Nice tan."

"I was on Romeo 3 when they called me up, you?"

"Romeo 1," said Sid. So, he was on R&R also. Romeo 1, the Agency R&R villa was near a small village in Spain, it was party central, good food, pretty senoritas, and lots and lots of sangria. He was out of communication for a month also.

"What the fuck is going on Sid?" Alicia finally asked.

"I don't know, the world has gone crazy, I guess. One day I'm sipping sangria with a senorita on my lap, the next thing I'm HALO jumping into Saskatchewan." Sid shook his head; it was all too weird.

"Not the world," Alicia scoffed. "Fuck the world, I'm tired of them fucking everything up and asking us to bail them out. What the fuck is going on with us Sid?"

He looked down to see their fingers entwined, "I'm ready to chuck it," he said. "I really am."

"Me too," she whispered.

Sid smiled at her. "Let's finish this one up and put in our papers." Alicia's heart soared, they had promised each other that when it was time, they'd drop the Agency, find a nice house in a little town under assumed identities and remarry.

The sun was just coming up when they reached the motel, it would be hours before their contact would meet them. They checked into a nice little Mom and Pop motel that's seen better times and they were looking forward to some time together. Their divorce was merely to protect each other, the agency puts so much strain on a marriage, and they were looking forward to retiring and reuniting. The sweet old lady that managed the place led them to their room and unlocked the door for them, and as they stepped in the room, the sweet old lady pulled two tasers out of her apron pocket and put them both to the back of Alicia and Sids necks and they went down. That's when the goons waiting for them inside the room went to work on their immobile bodies.

Agent Alicia Ingersoll had been moved several times since then. She had no idea how long they held her, all she knew was that they never seemed to tire of hurting her, and she eventually gave them all the information they asked for. All she knew for certain was that Sid got it worse. At some point she was stuffed into a heavy canvas bag and was in some kind of vehicle. She heard muffled voices, but everything was muffled now, pistols held next to her ears were fired repeatedly which ended her once marvelous hearing. Her beautiful blue eyes were closed due to swelling from beatings, teeth smashed out, face beaten to a pulp, jaw and cheek bones broken, and now she's just praying for it to end. And the end came soon, the last thing she felt was another bullet slamming into her body as she was dumped out of a speeding van.

*~~~~*~~~~⁰~~~~*~~~~*

She slowly came to, and she could see blurry objects, everything was a blur, and she had a headache that seemed to encompass the universe. She heard a woman say, "She's awake doctor, her eyes are open."

A person moved into view, and he suddenly came into focus. He came in to focus fast, fast enough to cause a sharp spike of pain to pierce her brain and make the headache seem like a fond memory. "Owww," she winced, her voice sounded hoarse, and her throat ached.

"Relax, Agent Ingersoll," came the heavily accented voice. "I am Doctor Mikhail Tyurin, you're at the nanobot research wing of the Archuleta Mesa Medical Facility. We are going to conduct a debrief of your mission." He placed what looked like earmuffs on her temples as she considered his words.

'Archuleta Mesa!' thought Alicia. 'This place really exists? Conspiracy theory nuts claimed that a secret base named Dulce Base is here.' The nuttier side of the dark web had long claimed that a secret base named Dulce Base was built under Archuleta Mesa, a mountain on the New Mexico/Colorado border. That's where the US supposedly experiments on captured aliens.

"You're right," said Doctor Tyurin, "Our conspiracy theory fans believe this facility is Dulce Base, our real name isn't as artistic as the name they chose, and the only aliens here are scientists from China and the former eastern bloc.

'Holy shit!' she thought, 'he can read my mind?'

"No," said Dr. Tyurin, "I can't read your mind, but the nanobots that are putting you back together can read your mental impulses in a manner of speaking and translate them to text or an image I can see on this screen. I'm downloading the data from your mission that they're reporting back. Now please relax as I compile your findings.

'What is going on? Nanobots? What kind of Sci-Fi world did I wake up in?'

Dr. Tyurin shushed Alicia. "Relax, all your questions will be answered. When you are stronger and recover more fully, we will be able to have a proper conversation."

Alicia tried to calm herself, but she couldn't feel her body, she couldn't move her arms or legs. Then she suddenly knew that the nerve impulses to her lower body were shut off as healing was conducted. 'Weird,' thought Alicia, 'I wonder what time it is.'

> The time is 2313 hours; the temperature is 69⁰f (20.55⁰c)

Suddenly she knew that it was 11:13 PM and she knew that the temperature was 69⁰f (20.55⁰c). 'Cool, time and temp, I can work for the phone company.'

"Shhh, relax. If the system feels that you're overtaxing yourself, it will put you back to sleep and we'll have to start all over again."

'Yes dad.' She was trying to relax but the more she concentrated on relaxing the harder it became to relax. She finally thought about her ex-husband Sid, he entered Canada along with her. 'I wonder how Sid made out,' she thought, then very quickly she knew a smattering of information, it wasn't good, in fact it was horrible. Dear God! The things they did to poor Sid! She opened her mouth to scream and before she could make heads or tails of what was going through her mind, she was gone.

"Gavno!" barked Dr. Tyurin as he slammed his hands down on the keyboard. He was almost complete with the mission download and something excited Agent Ingersoll. When the nanobots saw the spike in her heartrate they put her to sleep, but being artificial intelligence, they don't know the difference between sleep and a medically induced coma, and now she can't safely be reawakened for days. This is the third time! He sighed and sent an email to the nanobot programming team demanding that they teach these bots the difference between sleep and a coma.

*~~~~*~~~~⁰~~~~*~~~~*

Alicia Ingersoll spent much time in surgery having her hips and shoulder joints replaced as well as her shin bones, knees, and ankles. So savage was her torture that all of these were damaged beyond repair and had to be replaced, but most amazingly of all, they replaced her hands. The nanobots that they put in her body were incredible. Working under the bandages and skin they attached newly formed muscle tissue to the titanium and ceramic bones that eventually made a beautiful pair of fully functioning hands.

The hard part for Alicia to learn was living with the nanobots. The nanobots performed incredible tasks repairing her body and they also formed an integrated neural network giving her a secondary consciousness with incredible access to huge databanks of knowledge, however this network was unplanned by the nanobot designers, it was something the nanobots made by themselves. The nanobots were the agent of repairs, but Alicia had things that could not be repaired, like the severed spinal cord. In that case the nanobots became a secondary nervous system filling in where the severed spinal cord ended. "Wow!" she exclaimed when she discovered that the nanobots were being used to "jump" impulses over the break in her spinal column. "This must be a first for medical science."

Doctor Anna Kikina smiled and said without looking up from her clipboard, "Da, for paraplegic it is. But not for medical science. First is dog named Rusty who was hit by car, first for human is Chinese girl, quadriplegic, she too was hit by car."

That told Alicia so much more than she knew a moment ago, for one thing she was in good company with a dog and an unnamed Chinese girl, "We all pee dead nanobots," said Alicia under her breath. But the second item was that she is a paraplegic, and that thought set her in a downward spiral of depression.

Doctor Anna Kikina was preparing to leave, and almost did leave when Alicia's nurse, Roberta, alerted the doctor. "Our patient is not responding Doctor Kikina!"

Anna did a quick check of Alicia and shouted "Gavno!" The nanobots had put Alicia in a medically induced coma. Apparently, somebody said something that upset her.

Six months after her body was discovered lying in a pool of blood they wheeled Alicia out to take her first step. She had spent a month learning how to interact with the nanobots that were controlling her legs. "Best way for them to learn is to remember how you walked before accident," said Dr. Valentina Tereshkova.

"It wasn't a fucking accident," snarled Alicia, "and why the fuck is this place full of fucking Russians and why are you all using fucking astronauts' names?"

"We are not!" insisted Dr. Vladislav Volkov, "We are using names of cosmo..."

"FUCK YOU!" shrieked Alicia, "Get your damn hands off me!" Her nanobots went into self-protection mode and she swung viciously at anyone who tried to touch her, her titanium bones becoming deadly weapons. From his yell it sounded like Dr. Vladimir Komarov became the first human to die in a space flight and then got his arm broken by a paraplegic seven decades later.

The terrified scientists quickly evacuated and left Alicia sitting alone in the therapy room in front of a pair of parallel bars shrieking, "SID! WHERE'S SID?" She was trying to get the nanobots to put her back into her coma state where everything was peaceful, where the pain was gone, but that option had been removed from the nanobots.

She heard a scuffling from outside of the empty room then she heard a familiar voice come softly from behind her, "Allie, it's me."

"You're not Sid, leave me alone."

"No, it's me, your squire, m' lady."

"Q? Is it really you?" Suddenly she felt his arms around her, hugging her gently from behind, his cheek pressed against hers, the scent of the old school Old Spice filled her nostrils reminding her of better days and filling her with comfort. This was the first meaningful human contact she's felt since before she was captured, since Sid... "Q, where is Sid? They won't tell me."

Tall, slim, blond, and rakishly handsome, Daniel Boothroyd moved around the wheelchair ducking under the parallel bars to face her. Daniel was her executive assistant, her weapons trainer, her intelligence liaison, and most important, her "DITCH," the Dude In The CHair. He sat in the agency intel center and coordinated her moves in the field using intelligence gathered via satellite, drone, CCTV, body cam, hacked cell phone, whatever intelligence he could gather. He even warned her of possible enemy threats coming up behind her, but he wasn't available for the Canada job. Sid, her former husband, like many intelligence operatives, had a deep love of James Bond and had mentioned to Alicia that Q's name in the novel "Dr. No" was Major Boothroyd, so from that moment forward Sid called Daniel "Alicia's Q," and immediately Alicia started calling him Q and the nickname stuck.

Q crouched in front of Alicia, his normally calm face was drawn with lines of worry, he looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks, his normally cheerful eyes were sunken and dark, his face was bruised, his normally neat hair was long and disheveled, and his left eye was swollen. He always dressed sharply and normally wore a freshly ironed shirt and tie, but his shirt was old and torn, his tie askew and filthy, his slacks torn at the knee.