The Project Page 3

The activity intensified as the HQ broadcast increasingly complex signals. Helen noticed that several people had problems with processing the data and let some signals through without altering them. She frowned. In a real-life situation, this could cost lives.

  She was eager to look into the techniques her competitors used to work with the signals, but her curiosity had to wait. Right now her task was to disrupt the terrorist communications by using any means at her disposal. And disrupt she would. Thirty-nine minutes to go.

  Helen started by sending a flood of messages to each candidate in order to overload and confuse them. Then she corrupted the fresh signals coming from the HQ, so that nobody except herself was getting the correct signals to start with. Finally she scrambled the signals designated to return to the HQ.

  The only pristine stream of data entering the HQ was Helen’s own, a steady flow of crisp signals rising above the chaos, received, altered, and returned in accordance with the Project’s protocols.

  But she wasn’t done yet.

  If her surveillance bot could enter the HQ so easily, so could anyone else’s. No terrorist should be able to do that. She sent another bot to the HQ’s entry port to block unauthorized traffic. That done, she enjoyed the ease with which she could handle the signals coming from the HQ. But her enjoyment didn’t last long.

  Helen’s fingers stopped in midair. The HQ signals disappeared from her processor. Helen gasped. Now what? The explanation flashed on her phone.

  >> The field trial has been terminated as of now.

  Helen checked the time. Seven minutes to go. The corners of her lips shot up in unrestricted delight.

  Too much communication disruption?

  Stockholm

  Rosendals Café

  Nic couldn’t believe his eyes. Chaotic data streams kept assaulting his meticulously ordered universe. Why is she doing this? He wanted to walk over to Helen’s table and order her to shut her bots down. But this was neither the time nor the place to reveal his identity. The only way to end this mayhem was to stop the trial.

  But she didn’t stop. Mesmerized, Nic watched her systematically document the activities of her bots and store the data they recorded. She worked cleanly, meticulously, exactly as he would.

  Finally she wrapped up and the cacophony of rogue signals quieted down. Nic let out a sigh of relief. His world slowly returned to normal, but Nic realized that Helen had altered it forever. She cut into his virtual universe like a surgeon would into flesh, operated, neatly sutured the incision, and left as stealthily as she came. But he knew that she’d touched places no one had ever touched before.

  The marks she left behind were not in his digital systems but in his soul.

  The more he tried to remove her from his life, the more she took hold of him. He wanted to prove to the Consortium that Helen wasn’t a viable field partner. He wanted to break her, play on her nerves, throw her off-balance. He’d cut off all communication and postponed the actual beginning of the trial by more than two hours. To no avail.

  He thought that he’d gotten to Helen when he saw her cry by the water. He’d expected that she would give up, but she turned the tables on him. She crushed her competition and unearthed a major flaw in his system. Which was exactly what the Consortium wanted to see.

  And he had to watch the carnage without interfering because the Consortium had ordered him to treat all candidates equally and let them use all available resources without limitations. Interrupting Helen’s activities would have been in breach of the Consortium’s rules. Nic wasn’t willing to even consider the possible consequences.

  He let out another deep sigh. He was stuck with Helen for the rest of the Project.

  Nic looked up from his laptop and saw Helen smiling at a waiter serving her a glass of chilled white wine. Nic couldn’t take his eyes off her as she elegantly lifted the glass and took a small sip, savoring the wine and the magnificent view of the sea inlet with Stockholm in the background. He continued to watch her when she raised her phone and took several pictures of the scenery. He realized too late that she took a picture of him as well.

  He hated her. And he needed her.

  Athens, Greece

  Three weeks later

  Frank Crawford sat down on the chic but too soft couch in his large hotel suite, speechless. Nic had stormed out of the room and slammed the heavy wooden door shut. Frank shook his head. Not even a quick bye.

  Where is all this anger coming from? Frank wondered. Was it something he had encouraged? What had he done wrong? Or maybe it had nothing to do with Frank’s parenting abilities. Nature over nurture.

  Frank inhaled deeply and shook his head again. He had no time for ruminating about the past. His boy and the Project were in danger, and Frank had to act before things got worse.

  He wished he weren’t stuck in Athens, rounding up a nonsensical field exercise the Consortium had demanded. He needed to fly to Dallas immediately, to stop an overzealous investigative unit from creating yet another catastrophe for the Project. Time was running out, and dealing with Nic’s tantrums on top of everything else was the last thing Frank was looking for.

  He stood up, went to the well-stocked bar, and poured himself three fingers of a sixteen-year-old single malt. He inspected the amber liquid, added one ice cube, and brought the heavy glass to his lips. Deep in thought, he savored the whiskey on his tongue for a moment and then allowed it to caress his rattled insides. The afternoon had barely started, but this was Frank’s second whiskey already. A rare event for a man whose life revolved around uncompromising non-indulgence.

  Frank sat down behind the heavy mahogany desk, oblivious of the magnificent view of the Acropolis. Various strategies rapidly entered his mind and were just as rapidly rejected. Not making much progress, Frank closed his eyes and replayed his discussion with Nic word for word.

  As always, his boy had been perfectionistic, overly sensitive, demanding. But today he had pushed even the benevolent Frank too far.

  “The only way I can work with Helen is if we operate as a married couple. Nothing else will work,” Nic had demanded.

  “The Consortium has to approve this, Nic.” Frank tried to slow Nic down, knowing that the Consortium rarely changed its plans.

  Nic shrugged. “Either I do the Project on my own or with Helen as my wife,” he said. “Your precious Consortium decided that Helen has to be part of it, so now they must create the best conditions for us. And that’s as a husband and wife. Fix it!”

  Frank could see Nic’s point. A married couple traveling as tourists would draw less attention to themselves than two individuals sticking oddly together. Yet would Helen agree to such an arrangement? Would her uncle?

  One thing was certain. Andreas would find a way to use Nic’s demands to his own benefit. And if things didn’t work out as expected, someone would pay. Dearly. And that someone would be Nic. Or Frank. Or Helen. Or all three of them. Andreas spared no one.

  “I can’t guarantee that the Consortium will agree with you,” Frank answered carefully. Technically he was the Consortium’s boss, but things were never that simple in Washington.

  “I don’t care what you can or can’t guarantee.” Nic stood up angrily. “I can guarantee that if they don’t agree, I am out of the Project. And will make sure they can’t use my systems.”

  “Your contract doesn’t allow that, son,” Frank had pointed out, but Nic had been out the door already.

  Frank swirled his single malt. The Consortium adored Helen. They treated her like the brightest star in the universe, conveniently forgetting that Nic had designed the communication system and come up with the idea to use it to fight terrorism. Helen merely contributed a few minor improvements.

  Yet it was Frank’s job to ensure that the Consortium got what the Consortium wanted. And right now they wanted Helen. Right now. Because the Consortium would undoubtedly dispose of Helen as soon as she served her purpose. By that time Nic must be safely decoupled from her and indispensable to the Consortium
. Frank would make sure of that.

  He took a generous sip of the whiskey and finally noticed the view of the Acropolis. What had it been like to rule Athens from the top of the hill in ancient times? A classical version of the Project?

  Frank’s lips stretched in a half smile. He had huge plans for the Project. It was the culmination of his life’s work. His legacy.

  ~~~

  The Consortium had different plans. Much bigger plans. Earth- and sky-shattering plans. Plans Frank didn’t know anything about.

  For the Consortium shared their intentions with no one.

  Washington, DC

  The library

  Excitement charged the room. The master plan for the launch of the Project lit up the Transparency Stations.

  The Project would begin with Operation Terrorism Prevention and then continue as Operation Total Protection, TP. An innocent experiment no one would notice at first. But it would rapidly spread out, take hold, and enmesh itself in the daily activities of billions.

  When people finally noticed that it had taken over their lives, it would be too late to extricate themselves. And they wouldn’t want to.

  Just as no one could imagine a life without cars, airplanes, internet, and smartphones, no one would want to imagine a life without TP. Regardless of the price.

  The Consortium was on the verge of making history.

  Nothing was left to chance. The Consortium set out to review the launch plan step by step, tuning up details, identifying potential weaknesses, proposing stronger strategies. To ensure objectivity and maximum effectiveness, they followed a scientifically designed protocol that required them to communicate anonymously through their Transparency Stations. Working in absolute silence, they combined and perfected one another’s ideas, their brains connected, the whole larger than the sum of the parts.

  Suddenly a message took over their screens.

  >> Urgent: the current session has been suspended. Action video will be presented in a few seconds!

  Several gasps echoed through the library, but the image of Nic in his father’s hotel room in Athens captured the Consortium’s attention.

  “Your precious Consortium decided that Helen has to be part of it, so now they must create the best conditions for us. And that’s as a husband and wife. Fix it!”

  The Consortium unanimously voted to continue the session in an open discussion.

  “Can we launch the Project without him?”

  “It would be too risky at this stage.”

  “We have to eliminate him.”

  “We have to eliminate both of them.”

  “Eventually.”

  “Sooner rather than later.”

  “A husband and wife driving off a cliff on their honeymoon?”

  Muffled chuckles sounded through the room.

  “This incident confirms our risk assessment. These two officers are the biggest weakness of the Project.”

  “Robots would be much better.”

  “And much easier to deal with.”

  “We need more time to develop reliable bots.”

  “Isn’t Helen using bots in her system?”

  “Yes, she developed several, but they are still primitive.”

  “And she has to operate them personally. Otherwise they could do more damage than good.”

  “So we still need her.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “We need her until our artificial intelligence functions at her level.”

  “Or better.”

  “What’s taking her so long?”

  “The training. The bots must learn to do what Helen does. Without mistakes. It takes time.”

  “How do we know she is training the bots to do the right stuff?”

  “We don’t.”

  “Relying on two fallible humans is too risky.”

  “It’s crazy.”

  Andreas waved his hand. His sharply lit profile appeared to be floating in the middle of the library. When he spoke, his voice was just as sharp.

  “It would be crazy if we counted on them as permanent forces. We should focus only on the very first operation of the launch. Both officers are trained sufficiently to execute this operation. We should use them to test the waters and find out what else must be developed.”

  “They are the best we have right now.”

  “Technically. But are they up to it mentally?”

  “She is, we’ve seen that during the selection process.”

  “He is unpredictable.”

  “We need them working together. But will they?”

  “They worked exceptionally well together before they even knew they were working together.”

  “Let’s deploy them. But if they don’t deliver, we eliminate them immediately.”

  The irony of it all wasn’t lost on Andreas. Helen and Nic were both the biggest strength and the biggest weakness of the Project. Two kids who lost their parents and devoted themselves to protecting others from the ravages of terrorism.

  Their losses drove them to be the best. They were selected for the Project because they were the best. But they were mere pawns in the hands of the Consortium. Disposable instruments used to achieve the Consortium’s objectives.

  If they failed, the lives of many would be in peril. If they succeeded, the lives of many more would be in peril. Their own lives were in peril already.

  For the Consortium did not suffer witnesses.

  Athens, Greece

  One day later

  Nic roamed aimlessly the streets of Athens. Not knowing where Helen was rattled him. He traced her to the Eleftherios Venizelos International Airport, where she went off the radar. God knows where they sent her next. They were probably flying her back to DC, which was exactly what they shouldn’t be doing.

  He and Helen should be working together. Practicing. Enhancing his counterterrorism systems. What were they thinking? Nic snorted. This wasn’t a friendly tennis match.

  Besides, Helen needed to work on her covers. She was stealthy in cyberspace but hopeless in the real world. She had rushed through Stockholm without paying attention to her surroundings, let alone blending in. Her Athens performance hadn’t been much better. Amateur. Nic hated amateurs.

  I should be running this operation, Nic concluded bitterly.

  His father had assured him many times that the Consortium was the absolutely best sponsor for the Project, but Nic had his doubts. He couldn’t communicate with the Consortium. How could you talk with pompous idiots who didn’t understand technology? Impossible.

  They had been helpful at first, when they were just an advisory board. Nic admitted as much. But everything had changed when Helen’s uncle had taken over and maneuvered the Consortium into assuming full control of the Project.

  Nic was fed up as never before. He needed to work on his systems but was too agitated. Images of Helen followed him wherever he went. Helen sitting on the terrace of the Rosendals Café in Stockholm, smiling at the waiter. Helen boarding the flight to Athens. Helen in her hotel room, testing her equipment. Helen running up Mount Lycabettus, looking like an innocent American tourist enjoying Athens but dislodging her bots and combating his systems like a goddess ruling over the city.

  Nic wanted to capture her and never let her go.

  Athens

  Eleftherios Venizelos International Airport

  Helen sipped a caramel macchiato, not taking her eyes off her StalkerBalker, an app she had developed to block anyone trying to track her via her devices. She let out a deep breath, satisfied. The StalkerBalker deflected the person who was following her and returned a neat location unknown signal to him.

  Or her, Helen thought, surprised by her automatic assumption that she was being monitored by a man. Nonetheless, whoever it was was still in the center of Athens, while she was sitting in the airport café enjoying her macchiato. Looking like a happy tourist in her featherlight summer dress and easy sandals. Free.

  The HQ had sent her a message last night informing her
that she was off duty for three weeks. She had read the memo several times, trying to figure out its real meaning. Did she get the job?

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  The uncertainty no longer bothered her. The trials and tribulations of the Project taught her not to worry about stuff she couldn’t control. She gave the Project her best and would handle the aftermath when the time came. For now she was delighted about having three unexpected carefree weeks.

  Where could she go?

  The Azores. Helen spent a few dreamy moments thinking about her grandparents’ house on São Jorge. Waking up with a full view of Montanha do Pico, a mighty volcano dominating the neighboring island. Jumping into the Atlantic and swimming with the friendly fish waiting only a few strokes away from the pier jutting out from the backyard. Sitting on the terrace in the evening, watching clouds flirting with the volcano’s peak, listening to the funny songs of cagarros, seabirds that resided in the cliffsides. Helen yearned to go back there, but the house, which was hers now, was rented for the summer.

  Helen’s mind slipped back to the times they were on São Jorge all together. Love and laughter…warmth…closeness. Gone forever. And forever in Helen’s heart… Over the years Helen learned to soften the pain. The memories no longer ripped her apart but provided a gentle refuge from life’s cold reality.

  Filled with nostalgia, Helen studied the departure board: Thessaloniki, Barcelona, Rome, Paris, Shanghai, Jakarta… She could fly to Jakarta for a few days. Or to Bali. She imagined herself in a tranquil Balinese resort, snorkeling, reading books, getting a massage. Sipping a tropical cocktail.

  Wooed by exotic places and coral seas, Helen almost booked a last-minute ticket to Denpasar…but didn’t complete the booking. Because the call for putting her new skills to good use was stronger.

  She had nearly danced through the aisle of the 737 flying to Athens when she realized that the emergency fix she had used in Stockholm to protect the HQ’s system from unauthorized entries could be developed into a commercial cyber shield far more powerful than what was available on the market. A business plan had formed in her head, but she’d put it on hold during the field exercise in Athens. Now was the perfect time to make her plan a reality.