Raúl was running through the hallways of the Angel, with sweat permeating through his outfit, and with an ecstatic smile plastered across his face.
He was unable to contain his excitement when he heard the most recent development at the workspace through the surveillance system. According to their leader, Simon, the group currently near the research facility were going to intercept the convoy transporting the Meka model to Halcyon's pick-up site. If successful, not only would they have the research data on the Meka to build one from scratch, but they would also have a pristine and working copy of the machine!
Honestly, in the beginning, Raúl didn't hold any expectations for this operation. Firstly, he didn't trust the local talent to undertake such an intricate and layered operation.
But as he observed the progress the group made through the surveillance systems, of course, his opinions slowly started to waver. Contrary to his assumptions, the group was surprisingly professional and unbelievably efficient in its work. Such quality was comparable to groups he'd seen working for some Rank 2 or 3 corporations.
Just looking at the most recent turn of events, from what he could glean off the bugs surveilling the group, they were shifting their plans to highjack the convoy leading out of the research facility.
When he heard it, Raúl nearly fell off his seat. He was just about to rush into the room and rattle off instructions for the group to change their plan of action. But almost immediately, Simon began formulating a modified plan with various contingencies to account for deviations. The level of detail was staggering.
Right after that, Raúl tried to ring Raymond and inform him about the developments, but the call failed to connect through. Raúl cursed out Raymond, inwardly of course. Who knew if even the surveillance room was under surveillance?
And that was why Raúl was currently rushing towards Raymond's bedroom.
Once he arrived at the entrance, he paused to collect himself. As a personal assistant, he had to exude an aura of calmness and composure. Their employers were allowed to lose their shit, but the PA must always remain poised.
Thankfully, his outfit was fitted with anti-perspiration technology. With a simple press of a button, his sweaty back returned to its pristine condition. All the sweat-soaked into his outfit evaporated into nothingness, leaving no trace of its existence. Even the olfactory evidence was quickly cleansed and covered with a light piney scent.
After he caught his breath, Raúl pressed a button next to the bedroom entrance and called out to the occupants within. "Mr. Obiekwe," he said calmly.
The door slid open from the centre revealing a dimly lit room. The person of interest, Raymond, was seated on a wide sofa opposite the large bed. He had two women seated on each of his thighs, sprawling intimately onto his upper body, while the third was draped on the headrest.
"What's up?" Raymond said nonchalantly while straddling the women next to him.
"Good news, Sir! We might be able to retrieve both the research data AND the Meka," Raúl said while trying to hold back his agitation.
Raymond's back snapped straight in shock. "What? How? I thought they said it was impossible."
"There have been some favourable turn of events, Sir. The finished model of the Meka has left the confines of the facility. The fixers are planning to intercept it and appropriate the machine."
Raymond laughed mirthfully after Raúl finished the report.
"So then, what now?" Raymond asked.
"The Meka will be transported to an unregistered shipping site. The fixers are planning to highjack the transport and redirect it to another location to be picked up by us," Raúl informed.
"Where should we move Angel to?"
Raúl answered with some hesitation, "Sir, I think we should ask them first before taking any action. They don't know that we've been surveilling their every move."
"Isn't it a given? They're in my house, don't I have the right to do it?" Raymond retorted.
"That's true, but it is still an invasion of privacy. They don't know that we've also been tapping into their communication channel and personal comms..."
Raymond nodded thoughtfully and commented, "You're right"
He then walked towards his bedside table. From within, he retrieved his firearm and smirked, "While we're at it, we should probably start tying up all loose ends."
"Ray! We wanna go too..." One of the women pleaded coquettishly.
Another lithely wrapped her arms around Raymond and spoke into his ears, "We wanna see the Meka too..."
Raymond chuckled in response, "Let's go, girls! I'm going to show y'all something interesting."
As the group walked towards the workspace, Raúl started to perspire again. He was caught somewhere between uncontrolled excitement and bitter resentment.
'Why bring the entourage to an important meeting?' he grudged internally. But he quickly scrapped the notion as he considered the bright side.
If this hair-brained mission truly comes to fruition, he might finally get a second chance at climbing up Nova Corp.'s corporate ladder! Even though Raúl had given up all thoughts of it after his repeated ping-ponging across different departments and subsidiaries, he would be lying if he admitted that he still didn't hold hope and ambition.
Raúl silently pumped his fists in excitement while he walked with an almost imperceptible spring in his steps.
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Simon finished providing updated instructions to the group at the facility and untethered himself from the NetDive Board.
"We got really lucky this time, huh?" Rhona commented as she handed a bottle of water to Simon.
Simon nodded while unscrewing the bottle cap.
As he gulped down mouthfuls of the fluid, Rhona continued, "Should I call the client and inform them of the change of plans? We need to relocate to the new rendezvous point."
Simon raised an open palm while he continued drinking the water. Following a brief moment, he lowered one of his fingers.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Rhona furrowed her brows as she tried to comprehend what Simon meant. Before she could ask, he lowered another finger.
Then another.
Another.
Once he lowered the last finger, he stopped drinking and screwed in the bottle cap. Right as the cap tightened, the room door slid open and an entourage consisting of Raymond, Raúl, and three vibrant bimbos sauntered in.
Rhona finally understood what Simon meant, and a realisation dawned upon her.
"So? Any updates?" Raymond asked impatiently.
Simon wore an amicable smile and responded with realistic enthusiasm, "You arrived just in time! We were just about to contact you. You see there has been a change in our plan of action. We really hit the jackpot this time! Right when we infiltrated the facility, we found out that they were planning to ship out a factory-fresh model of the Meka. We're planning to intercept their convoy and redirect it to another location from where we can pick it up. And so -"
"So we need to move Angel to this new location, right?" Raymond finished up Simon's sentence. He was clearly not accustomed to accomodating corporate intrigue. The man could barely hold back his eagerness.
Raúl grasped the ramifications of Raymond's hasty actions, and he quickly directed his attention to Simon, Colin and Rhona. He wanted to see if there were any ripples in their expressions indicating discomfort or wariness.
Without even a waver in his expression, Simon responded, "That's correct," and then turned to Colin to quickly directed a command, "Colin, send them the coordinates, please."
Colin was not as proficient in keeping his micro-expressions in check. He was just about to evoke suspicion, but that was immediately intercepted by Simon's command. Like a robot, Colin dropped his current line of thought and moved on to the next task.
Rhona was more proficient in handling people and was sufficiently prepared.
Just before Raymond's entourage entered the room, she realised that their actions were being monitored the moment they stepped across the cruiser's thresholds.
She saw that Raymond and his gang weren't leaving the room and were getting comfortable in a location close to Colin's workstation.
Her brain shifted to high gear as she tried to deduce the purpose of their actions. Her growing paranoia nearly threatened to shatter her unperturbed expression.
Right as it approached the brink, she forcefully suppressed her internal turmoil and arrived at an unwavering conclusion.
Inconspicuously, Rhona scooted towards Simon's LChair...
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"Rhys, make sure to move all the items on the list I sent you into the truck when you bring it over," Byron said precisely in the comms.
[Are you kidding me?! You want me to move all of this by myself?] Rhys exclaimed incredulously.
"Borrow the Dolley from the landlord," Byron replied calmly.
Rhys scoffed, [No shit! That's not the issue here. This is basically everything from our base.]
Byron exhaled exasperatedly and replied in a stern voice, "Can you do it or not?"
[Yeah, yeah!] Rhys remarked offhandedly and closed the call.
Byron shook his head and turned his attention to Nathan who was using a pair of binoculars to observe the situation at the facility.
"Six Xavian Automotives Protector Model B, with augmented armour plating. Three Xavian Automotives Pursuer non-standard model, with augmented particulate shielding," Nathan listed while keeping his attention trained towards the facility.
Horace typed in the information into his comms and pulled the publications on the vehicles from the QNet. As he read through them, he released a drawn-out whistle.
"They pack quite a punch," he then turned to the group and asked in hesitation, "it's going to be fine, right?"
Byron chuckled, "It's uncharacteristic of you to worry like this, Horace."
Horace scratched his head as he replied, "This is different. We haven't made thorough preparations for this operation. We never planned to intercept a live convoy."
Byron patted Horace's stiff shoulder and offered some words of consolation, "Relax. Simon's got this."
Horace chuckled as some of his pent up stress started to dissipate, "You really trust him a lot, huh?"
Byron pointed at his nose and replied, "It isn't trust, it's intuition. They say that animals have a sixth sense when it comes to danger. My 'sixth sense' has never lied to me."
"Humans don't have that kind of a sixth sense though," Horace muttered.
Byron's smile vanished. He replied in a morose tone, "That's because humans have other things to worry about apart from surviving. Once you've lived like an animal and survival is the only thought that dances across your mind every second, every minute, every hour of the day, you tend to gain a sixth sense."
A pregnant silence pervaded the scene once Byron finished speaking. Horace didn't know what to say after that bombshell.
Thankfully, Nathan interrupted the din, "They're moving."
Byron affirmed with a hum and revved the car's engine.
Once the group completed their final check, the car zoomed over the dune and careened towards the convoy.
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Xavian Automotives produced high-end vehicles geared towards security and military uses. Their unique selling point, or USP, was their impregnable, high-performance and lightweight armour plating. Their advertisements unveiling their newest models always had a scene where the vehicle was bombarded with increasingly potent weaponry. Starting from handgun bullets, and ending at standard armour-penetrating turret rounds.
Halcyon Inc.'s convoy transporting the new Meka was flanked by a company of Xavian Automotives vehicles. There were six models resembling military humvees, and three models resembling dune buggies with reinforced shieldings.
"Sir! Our observers have flagged an unidentified vehicle, which seems to be approaching the convoy. What are our orders?"
A monotonous report resounded inside the humvee leading the convoy.
"First observe. If they pass our train without interference, let them go. But if they choose to interfere, blast them. After a warning of course," a weathered man with an appearance that exuded years of experience answered with surety.
He was the head of security assigned to the research facility by Halcyon Inc. He'd been a part of the corporation since his teenage years and had risen quite far in the corporate ladder. However, as he grew in age, he was frequently overlooked for promotions. As a sign of resignation, he chose to take on the position at the clandestine research facility. This convoy transport would be his final task. Once finished, he could retire and live out the rest of his life in some frontier paradise planet.
As he imagined his days laying about in the sun, sipping some tropical cocktails, a loud voice blared up, "YOU ARE INTERFERING WITH A HALCYON INC. REGISTERED CONVOY. LEAVE THE VICINITY OR FACE IMMINENT ANNIHILATION."
"Who are these morons," the head of security muttered.
"Sir, they... seem to be following us at a respectable distance. Should we still take action?" the monotonous voice resounded in the humvee with a tinge of confusion.
In irritation, the head of security grunted, "Are they taking the mick? Blast them! Wait! The vehicle seems civilian, no point wasting heavy ammo on them. Use the infantry concentrated energy blaster."
"Affirmative."
Atop the humvee at the tail of the convoy, the roof slid aside and a man garbed in tactical gear popped out. In his hand was a shoulder-mounted weapon. He carefully planted it on his shoulders and stabilised his body by lowering his centre of gravity.
The loud voice threw a final warning as a perfunctory gesture, "YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, CIVILIAN!"
"Firing in 3... 2 -"
BOOM
An illuminating blast emerged from the tail of the train, sending a wave of alarms across the convoy.
"What the fuck happened?" The head of security exclaimed in shock.
"Sir! The vehicle set to fire at the civilians is out of commission!" a nervous voice responded dropping all traces of its earlier monotony.
"What? How?"
"... The energy blaster exploded..." the voice answered in disbelief.
"Damn it! Was it defective?"
"No... they shot its capacitor... Checking for energy readings from the car. No significant energy signatures. No radiation after-effects. They seem to have used a regular ballistic rifle... a regular rifle... with regular ammunition..." as the voice spoke, its volume lowered gradually while it tried to compute the blatantly nonsensical information before it.
The head of security squinted his eyes in rejection, "Is that even possible? Did our man hold it out for target practice? The damn thing is secured inside the blaster! They'd have to have shot straight down the weapon's barrel, which is as wide as a fingernail, and hit the capacitor exactly at its critical point."
A series of expressions flashed across the head of security's face. It started at incredulity, morphing into dreaded realisation, and then settling at extreme shock.
"Fuck! They're professionals! Activate all turrets. Waste them! NOW!"
At his command, panels on the roof of all the humvees in the convoy slid aside and a weapons platform ascended. They all trained their sights at the car following the convoy and hummed as they activated.
The head of security quickly dried his sweaty palms on his shirt and initiated a separate sequence on his comm. In tandem, multiple panels across the cargo transport slid open revealing a plethora of weapon platforms.
Each of them rotated in place and pointed their barrels at the car.
The head of security exhaled to calm his nerves.
With a smirk, he commanded, "Fire at will!"