AI Era: Agent AI SWAK

"What was the deal with these two men?" asked Senator Nourse.

The VP reviewed the document and said, "Both had ties to Hans Stavros Baumgartner and the Agency."

"AND the Agency?" He shook his head, once upon a time the Agency was the last vestige of government that could be trusted. "The Agency has been compromised," said Nourse. It wasn't a question; it was a statement of fact. "Is there anything else?"

The VP flipped the single page report over and scanned the document for a moment. "The quarter pounders had no pickle," he shrugged.

"Why were these men after that woman?"

"She was just a cover," said Ziggy, "They used her as transportation to Wayside, and if anything had happened, she was going to take the fall. They carried a cocktail of fentanyl and LSD to tranquilize anybody who got in their way. It's amazing how the justice system will blame events on a person with traces of LSD in their system."

"You used their own drugs against them?" grinned Senator Nourse but Zane held his hands up innocently. "What was the end game? Why did they want that secured transport?"

VP Swanson leaned forward and handed the senator the Twin Dragon document he had been reading. "The transport was carrying several doses of nanobots for my daughter." The VP's daughter Dianne was born blind, the hope was that the nanobots would correct the rare genetic disorder that was blinding her.

"Why would they do that?" asked Nourse.

"We don't know," said Swanson, "there were several bags of nanobots in the backpack the kidnappers left in Mrs. Alvarez' car. Cliff Staunton at Long Picorobotics is analyzing them, and it looks like they are clones with bad programming."

"Why do you think they would want to give the twenty-five-year-old daughter of the Vice President cloned nanobots?" said Nourse.

"She could become a walking bug relaying anything that was said in her presence," speculated Zane.

Senator Nourse nodded, "Could she record everything she sees and hears then download it later?"

"We're sending her to Archuleta Mesa next week to try again with signed nanobots," said Swanson as he poured a gin and tonic for the senator, Ziggy just drank tonic water.

-.-.--.. -.-.-... -.-----. -.--.-.. --.----.

"Other than that, how are you doing baby?" said Cliff softly. He was talking to Ming through her upgrade process; it was the second one this week. He wasn't happy doing it from 7,000 miles away, but this was what Ming had asked for. The first eight hours are weird, sometimes she doesn't notice the process, other times it makes her nauseous and she once told him it's like a type of morning sickness, she believes that there's a big change going on and her body was having problems getting used to it. For some reason she's not appearing in her own video call today, instead Cliff is seeing Zhang drifting past on an inflatable mattress in an artificial stream. He tried to ignore her bare breasts, but he's a guy and they are pretty... very pretty.

"Do you want me to describe what is going on right now?" purred Ming. Quite often their upgrade was punctuated with sex play. Often Cliff would lie in bed with Ming and Alicia and participate by gently stroking Ming's long, ebony hair as Alicia kissed her tender inner thighs.

"Yes, tell me," said Cliff.

Ming stretched and purred in boneless pleasure. "It's warm and sunny, the sun just came up, Abbie is here next to me in a big fluffy bed with silky smooth sheets, we're on a patio, and we're laying in the shade of a lanai that is covered with vines and flowers and leaves. Zhang got tired of serving us fruit juice and snacks and is going for a cruise."

"Sounds beautiful," said Cliff. He's never been to the tropics and he's getting jealous.

"Alicia won't let us wear shirts!" whispered Ming. "My boobs are getting tanned!"

I should be there to put lotion on you," said Cliff.

"I wish you were... there's birds singing, and I can see the ocean, can you see it?" Ming held the phone up for Cliff and he could see distant waves crashing on shore not too far from the villa.

"It looks like heaven," smiled Cliff.

"It would be a perfect place for a honeymoon," cooed Ming, "we kind of own this place."

"Are you proposing to me?" asked Cliff. Holy shit! His breathing stopped. He didn't want to push, he's just a penniless nobody that she found in the Stanford microrobotics lab and hired. Almost every dime he makes goes into paying off his student loan, but everything he builds, everything he does is for her. Suddenly the view switched, and he saw Ming lying next to Alicia, they both had green goop on their face. Seeing his shocked look Alicia said, "It's an avocado mask!"

"Who would want to dress up like an avocado?" asked Cliff, truly confused, then he got back on track. "Are you... proposing?"

"I don't know," Ming giggled, "I guess one of us has..." With a sudden click the connection went dead.

"What the fuck?" He redialed her number, and it rang seven times then went to her voicemail. "Hey baby, what happened? You were talking and the line went dead. Were you proposing? Call me so I can say yes."

He was sitting at Ming's picnic table outside of the VIP entrance to the complex, it was chilly, and the sun was getting low, but it was still a pretty day. "This is just my luck," he muttered. The girl he loves might have been proposing to him and the line dropped. He called back again, and he got that annoying three level tone and that icy voice saying "The number you dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please check your directory and try again."

"Is there a problem boss?" asked Dunkan from over by the mine entrance.

"Yeah, I was talking to Ming and the line went dead."

To Dunkan everything is a threat, every broken twig in the forest, every pebble skittering down the side of the mountain, every bird circling lazily overhead. That's only because twigs don't just break, pebbles don't just fall, and not everything in the sky is a bird, like that one he's been watching. He reached into the gun locker and pulled out his .20 gauge "Snake Carmer." A very handy little side by side shotgun to have in a land that rattlesnakes like to patrol.

He sighted down the rail between the barrels of the gun and he swore that the bird noticed him. It turned hard and tried to dive for the cliff face but a stand of lodgepole pines were in the way. Birds don't "notice" people pulling a shotgun, birds notice movement. Dunkan's stepping into the tunnel and opening the locker should have been threatening enough, this "bird" didn't register a threat until Dunkan leveled his gun. Just as he let fly with both barrels something in the distance behind the "bird" alerted Dunkan. "Boss! In the tunnel! Now!" shouted Dunkan and he dropped the gun and dashed toward Cliff.

For his part, Cliff had more important things to worry about, starting with what happened to his phone. He got up from the table and started walking toward Dunkan who was shouting and urging him into the tunnel, but Cliff was dialing the phone trying to call Alicia when suddenly the picnic table behind him exploded in a shower of wood fragments knocking him face first into the ground.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" shouted Dunkan as he sprinted forward. Looking to the west he saw the setting sun highlight three narrow columns of smoke shooting up from Loveland pass to join a fourth column which was starting to dissipate. Rockets? Better safe than sorry, he grabbed the microphone for his radio and shouted, "INCOMING FIRE! ROCKY IS DOWN! ROCKY IS DOWN!"

"I hate that name," groaned Cliff as he tried to get up, but his left leg wasn't working properly, it felt weak. Suddenly Dunkan was scooping him up off the ground and carrying him like a child to the tunnel. "Let me down!" complained Cliff. He knew he was a scrawny nerd but...

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

Three explosions erupted around Ming's picnic grove. One went off inside the pine trees, something hit the rockface above and to the left of the tunnel entrance and exploded showering Cliff and Dunkan with rock fragments and sharp glittering shrapnel, and one hit to the right of the tunnel, low, near ground level blowing Dunkan and Cliff backward. Before he realized what was happening, he was in the tunnel and the annoying "Oooga" horn was howling reminding Cliff that something was wrong.

The tunnel grew dark as the door slammed down blocking a well-aimed warhead in a third volley from entering. Cliff hurt and he felt sleepy, and he didn't like Dunkan bothering him, he tried to get away from the big security guard. But he couldn't get away, Dunkan kept bothering him, doing something with his left leg which hurt a lot. Cliff just wanted to go to sleep and dream about resting in a tropical paradise with Ming.

-.-.--.. -.-.-... -.-----. -.--.-.. --.----.

In the US Naval Observatory, Zane Zigler sat with Senator Amos Nourse and Vice President Cameron Swanson. Swanson was a fascinating, knowledgeable person and the chance to sit and talk with him about the collapse of The Agency was an incredible opportunity not to be squandered. However, the Vice President's time was limited, he had a meeting with President Turner soon, so it was time to leave.

"Ok, Amos, Mr. Zigler, if you'll come with me, let me show you a dog and pony show that can't be matched," smiled VP Swanson as he stood and buttoned his suit coat. A cloud of policy wonks and secret service agents clustered around the vice president as he walked down the sumptuously decorated hallway of the Vice-Presidential office and residence, staff photographers clicked shot after shot of the three men walking toward the exit.

The Washington weather had turned gray and rainy, temperatures were dipping, and Amos dreaded a cold walk back to his office. Zane and Senator Nourse waited with the VP as his car pulled up and they got to watch the Secret Service prepare the VP for his move over to the White House. Just before the car pulled up, Cameron leaned over to Zane and the Senator and said, "Do not take your eye off the General, his power is rising."

"General Long? He's dead, he was killed in Singapore years ago."

"General Boothroyd," corrected the Vice President as he stepped outside and walked to his limo, Secret Service protection cars ahead and behind the VPs limo. Just as VP Swanson ducked to get into his car, three shots rang out and a car sped off on Naval Observatory Avenue.

VP Swanson disappeared into a cloud of secret service agents and was hustled back into his house immediately, uninjured and safe. But Senator Nourse sagged to the ground and Zane clutched his shoulder, blood spurting out between his fingers. "Damn," he groaned, "I just bought this suit."

The world went insane, helicopters and ambulances filled the area surrounding the Vice President's residence. An abandoned van was located not far from the Naval Observatory and the FBI was swarming the van. The Washington DC Police Department, FBI, CIA, and the Agency all vied for the lead on the investigation, they begged and hounded President Marcus Turner to be appointed the lead agency in the investigation, but in the end, President Turner said, "Vice President Swanson has decades of experience in law enforcement, I will abide by and enforce his suggestion, the WDC PD will take the lead, the FBI will provide support, personnel, and lab equipment. I fully expect to see cooperation on this investigation that will set a benchmark for all future inter-agency investigations." The gauntlet was tossed down, cooperation will be the order of the day, or "Operation Rolling Heads" will commence.

This situation sent the Washington press corps in a tizzy. VP Swanson wasn't giving a press conference at the moment, the Naval Observatory grounds were locked down, and all that could be seen at the VPs residence was a driveway full of official looking cars. One ambulance left the residence and headed over to Walter Reed, which sent the Washington press corps stampeding in that direction.

Finally, Doctor Jose Martinez, head of emergency surgery at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center stepped outside and made a short statement to the press, "Senator Amos Nourse of Maine was admitted with a bullet wound to the left thoracic area, the bullet penetrated his left lung and exited his body cleanly. The senator is in good spirits and is expected to make a full recovery. A second person, a member of the senator's staff, was grazed and has been treated on an outpatient basis, his name has not been released. I will take a few questions... Yes?" Dr. Martinez indicated Bill Gaines, the face of the Global News Network.

"Bill Gaines, GNN World News. Doctor Martinez, could this attack be a reflection of President Turners precipitous plunge in the polls regarding women and disaffected minorities?"

Dr. Martinez couldn't believe that he was asked that question, he was a doctor, not a spineless political earthworm. Luckily, he remembered a bit of wisdom that was handed down to him by the hospital head of public relations who once said, "When asked a stupid question, ignore it and answer a smart question." This was advice that Dr. Martinez chose to cling to. "As I said, Senator Nourse's vital signs are encouraging we are expecting a complete recovery and a return to work within a few weeks."

Dr. Martinez looked at the crowd and realized that they had no clue if he had answered the question, they wanted to hear themselves talk more than they wanted to hear him.

The doctor scanned the sea of "journalists" for any sign of intelligent life and picked a mousy looking brunette, she looked like a news nerd if ever there was one. "You, do you have a question regarding Senator Nourse?"

"Yes, Nora Slatery, Washington Dispatch. Doctor, can you speak to the mindset of the shooter?"

Doctor Martinez looked at Miss Slatery, so proud of herself for asking such an important sounding stupid question. "The senator's wife is with him; she reports he is in good spirits and eager to return to work. Thank you, that will be all," and he turned and entered the hospital where unlike the crowd outside, here inside the hospital the IQs averaged higher than the current room temperature.

In Senator Nourse's room an intern wearing an N95 mask was taking his vitals while two staff doctors were discussing physical therapy with the senator and his wife. Joanna Nourse was a tall, slim sexy sixty with beautiful long silver hair, she knew what she was getting into when she married a man that had aspirations to political office. She was there to bind his wounds after every political setback, and there to ensure that every political victory was capped off with a night that reminded them of their early courtship years. When Senator Nourse said that his wife was his number one advisor, Amos wasn't lying, Joanna was smart and tough, she knew how to navigate the Washington DC swamp and she could track down a disloyal staffer like a bloodhound finding a lost child.

When Amos waved off the staff physicians with a tired groan the intern stepped back and reviewed the Senator's medical condition on the computer terminal in the room. "How do I look Ziggy," said the Senator. "Am I going to live?"

Zane Zigler pulled off his mask and smiled, "You're a lucky old buck, an inch or so to the right and you would have drowned in your old blood."

"It's going to take more than a two, twenty-three round to take him down," Joanna bravely smiled, but on the inside, she was shrieking in horror. Zane and Amos were both hit by 5.56mm rounds, commonly fired from an AR-15, but Zane doubted that it was an AR-15 that was aimed at them, the shot was too accurate for that distance to be from a light, plastic gun. It had to be something heavy that wouldn't be affected by the shooter's heartbeat or an unsteady breeze pushing against the fore stock and barrel of a plastic popgun like an AR-15. He was thinking it could be a Ruger AR-556, a heavy barrel semi-auto rifle that still looks like the macho Rambo weapon that all the kiddies like to buy. Zane expected it was more likely a Daniel Defense DDM4 V7 Pro, a true shooters weapon, and with a price tag of $1,900 there's not a lot of weekend warriors carrying one.

"At least they missed the target," sighed Amos. He was sure he could ride the adulation of taking a bullet for the VP to another term in office.

"They hit the target," said Zigler. "The first shot hit you, the second shot hit me, the third shot hit the building. The third round was to make it look like the Vice President was the target."

The room went silent. Finally, Joanna spoke, "What are you saying Mister Zigler?"

Ziggy took a deep breath. Joanna is an awesome woman; he hopes what he has to say doesn't break her. "It appears to me that it wasn't the vice president that the shooter wanted. Amos and I are both associated with Long Air Services and Twin Dragon Security." He turned to Amos and said, "I don't know if you've been briefed, but Ming Long and Alicia Ingersoll were planning to use every asset available to them to either clean up or eliminate the Agency and take down Baumgartner, Haag, and Boothroyd.

"The little general," groaned Amos.

Zigler continued with his bad news. "Six modified 2.75 inch rockets were launched against the Long Air Services Secure Data Storage known as Ming's Mine, each rocket carried an advanced three pound flechette antipersonnel warhead, they struck around the VIP entrance tunnel injuring Dunkan O'Reilly and Cliff Staunton. Dunkan is expected to recover, I don't know about Cliff."

"What do you mean modified rockets?" Amos had to do something to keep his mind on the topic. Goddamnit! He liked Cliff, he's a good kid and a good match for Ming whom the senator was beginning to consider a stepdaughter.

Zane opened up the tablet he always has handy and showed the senator some data charts on the Mark X version of the 2.75-inch diameter FFAR (Folding Fin Air Rocket) "They have a boosted propellent, it burns hotter and longer giving them a straighter trajectory and a longer range. It also lets them carry a larger warhead. These are military only weapons, they're not intended for use in anything except US military aircraft."

Amos held Joanna's hand, "This is where it gets worse, right Ziggy?"

Zane nodded his head. "In this case they had a guidance unit that was flown remotely. We think the rockets were launched from Cupid Peak near Loveland pass, the rockets went straight up, the motors burned out at apogee over Mt. Kelso, and as they fell they were steered to target on Mt Ganley."

"Where did they get a guidance device for something that's one step up from a bazooka round?" demanded Senator Nourse. Rocket attacks INSIDE America? What the hell did the previous administration leave us?

"As soon as we find enough pieces of one to analyze we'll be on it. Right now as far as we can tell, Dunkan O'Reilly is in charge of Ganley Mountain, and he's locked everything down." Zane was sure Dunkan had the people and the skills to locate parts of those rockets.

"Six three-pound warheads... It was a diversion, a message and they got lucky," said Amos as he tried to sit up, but Zigler shook his head.

"They got lucky that we were exposed the same time Cliff was. We know they had targeted Cliff; he likes to sit at Ming's picnic table and talk to her while she's on Rota in a villa owned by Long Air Services. With you and I, we were followed and were exposed at the exact moment Cliff was on the phone."

Rota! Finally! Someone admitted that Ming and Alicia were out of the country. "You got more, let's have it," said Ambrose.

"The FAA air traffic control system is being bombarded with contradictory data regarding L.A.S. cargo flights inside the continental United States." Zane placed a pulse ox meter on Senator Nourse's finger, "Their flights are being lost in the shuffle and running critically low on fuel."