Cliff Ryder - Out of Time

He ran through the preliminary login sequence quickly. Within moments the main Room 59

screen came to life.

“Chameleon, online and checking in,” he typed.

He’d used that exact same message after every mission he’d accomplished. This time it felt odd.

He didn’t feel like a chameleon, and he wasn’t sure yet that he was even welcome in the room.

“Welcome back, Alex.”

Alex took a deep breath and began to type.

“Hello, Denny. I have a report.”

“We know what happened already, Alex. When were you going to tell us about your condition?

Didn’t you think we’d understand?”

“I needed this one, Denny. You’re the one who showed me Brin’s company’s involvement. I couldn’t leave this to someone else, not knowing if they’d get the job done or if they’d come after Brin when they were done. We aren’t after Brin, are we?”

“The situation is complicated. Your wife has been in here, Alex,” Denny replied. “Here, in this room. She logged on to your computer, broke your security and made it into the outer room.”

“And you brought her the rest of the way?” Alex shifted through emotions from surprise, to shock, to anger. “You told her what was going on without even consulting me before doing it?”

“If it had been possible, we would have aborted the mission. Under the circumstances, you were out of communication and sending Liang was the best we could manage. Brin picked up a prescription that was meant for you, and she knew something was wrong. We got our report from the medical records.

None of us was happy to find out you were sick and didn’t think we needed to know. We didn’t tell Brin anything about what you were doing, though we did let slip that you were in the Far East. While you were keeping secrets, you failed to let us in on your cover story for this mission. Not that it matters now.”

“Where are they?” Alex asked. “Brin isn’t here.

Savannah isn’t here.”

“She’s probably at work,” Denny typed. “Alex, we have a serious problem here. You put a lot more at risk than your life, or even your family. What the hell were you thinking? We don’t operate this way.

We can’t afford to. Was my brief not clear, or do you think this is all just a game we’re playing? If those nanoagents had been released here, or anywhere in the world, it would be too late for apologies.”

“I couldn’t let someone else go,” Alex repeated.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a better answer than that.

This is my life—it’s what I do. I have nothing else, and if I’m not going to be around to take care of my family in the future, I damned sure wanted to take care of them now.”

“You’d better get your head straight,” Denny wrote. “You are one man. Yours is one family. We aren’t in this for ourselves, or have you forgotten that? This is all-or-nothing. This is us against the world. You used to be the poster child for that. I wanted you on this mission because no one could do it better, but that was you at full strength. When things changed, you should have let me know. You should have trusted me.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” Alex typed. “I figured my career was pretty much over and had my resignation ready to turn in when you handed me this mission. I couldn’t turn it down, didn’t want to. I thought I could do it.”

“And?”

“And I was wrong,” Alex typed. “I’m just not what I used to be. I assume I’m out of a job?”

“We’re still assessing all this, Alex,” Denny wrote. “Your knowledge, your skills, they aren’t things that can be replaced easily. That said, you have directly violated the rules of Room 59. If—

and I stress the word if —we can find a place for you here, then there’s one thing you’d better be crystal damned clear on. None of this is about you.

You aren’t in charge, you don’t make the rules and when you are told to do something, you’ll do it.

There isn’t any place here for rebels. We have rules and operating procedures and you know them. You willingly broke them.”

“I know,” Alex said. “And I appreciate that you’d still even think of supporting me after all of this, but the mission isn’t over, Denny. Not by a long shot.”

“What are you talking about? We have the reports on the MRIS complex. You obliterated it.

Liang even managed to get a man in and verify that the lower levels were destroyed. There’s nothing left of the computers or the data.”

“They sent it here already,” Alex typed. “They sent it to the MRIS lab right here. I found a shipping report, and I saw Brin’s name on the receiving end. She’s going to think she’s saving the world. I have to get in there, Denny, and I have to get her out.”

“Wait a minute,” Denny replied. “Are you sure about this? You’re telling me they’ve already got some kind of prototype here?”

“I still have the folder with the data on the shipment,” Alex replied. “I don’t know how many of their people over here are in on it, but there have to be a few. Hershel Rand, for one—he’s the CEO. Apparently they are planning on bringing Brin in, though I don’t know in what capacity. I know she wouldn’t willingly help them release a biological weapon, but if she thought she was working on a miracle cure she’d be all over it.”

“I’ll send someone in,” Denny replied. “You’re in no condition to operate right now, even without the MS. Liang said you got pretty beat up over there. Besides that, you’re too close to it emotionally—and that leads to mistakes in judgment.”

“I’m going in whether you order it or not, Denny. I’m sorry to disobey orders again so soon, but this one is mine. I need to be the one to do this,”

Alex typed furiously.

“We never send in a man who is less than one hundred percent.You know that, Alex.You also know that we don’t send agents on personal missions.”

“This isn’t a question of you sending me, Denny. I’m going. If you want to get someone ready to clean up the mess when the cripple fails, that’s on you,” Alex replied. “That’s my wife in there, and this is my mission.”

There was a long pause, and Alex thought it was over. They’d send someone in to stop him, and they’d send someone after Brin.

“Alex,” Denny finally typed, “If you do this, I can’t vouch for you with Kate or anyone at Room 59. You’ll be on your own, and out on a very, very thin limb. Things look bad as it is.”

“It’s what I have to do, Denny,” Alex wrote.

“I understand why you might feel that way,”

Denny wrote. “Don’t make any mistakes. If you fail or falter, we will come in—hard, fast and final.

We aren’t done talking about this, and you aren’t off the hook for any of this. Kate is going to blow a gasket that I didn’t send a team to stop you. We’re going to have to debrief Brin, too. She knows way too much, and that’s on you, too. Your security passwords weren’t secure enough. You also might want to check out that anonymous e-mail drop you set up—you know, the one that’s absolutely a breach of security? She probably left you a thousand e-mails. If you live, you’ll still have a lot to answer for, and I’m not sure you want to pay this piper. You know the penalty for disobeying orders.”

Alex knew Denny was right, but he also knew the only thing he could do was to try to get in and make it right.

“I’ll finish the mission,” he typed quickly.

“And thanks.”

Denny didn’t respond, and with a weak grin, Alex typed, “Chameleon—going offline and out.”

The chat window closed, and he made his way out through the outer room and closed that, as well. Alex stared at the screen for a long moment, considering whether or not to log in to the e-mail account. He hadn’t known Brin was home, wondering what he was doing and what was wrong. He also hadn’t known the doctor had called in the prescription, though thinking back he realized that he had known, and had just forgotten. He cursed himself for the lack of concentration. He’d always thought that if something went seriously wrong, his mind would get him through it—but he’d never counted on something coming along that could affect body and mind. He hadn’t counted on running across an enemy he couldn’t defeat.