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Subject: Champagne and the Island of Supervillains |
The private jet landed on the private landing strip of the private Caribbean island. It taxied along the runway and came to a halt near the helicopter pad. A bus was waiting to ferry the new arrivals to reception. Security cameras turned to observe the new arrivals. “There she is,” Don Fellici said in the control center, tapping the glass of the monitor screen. “Champagne Cacciatore. Zoom in.” The security tech operated a joystick beside the main control board and three million dollars of state of the art surveillance equipment focussed on the slim blonde visitor. “There is no sign of weaponry on her, sir, or any other kind of special equipment,” reported the security tech. Don Fellici wasn’t satisfied. The girl on the board was new. She might have missed something. He leaned over her shoulder and scanned the intruder himself. “Just because it doesn’t look like burglary tools doesn’t mean it isn’t, Security Techician Sure. Champagne’s not going to come to the Weapons Expo at Isla Peligro without some kind of insurance.” But the scanners said otherwise. “Keep a watch on her,” Don Fellici said. “Twenty-four seven. We know she’s here to steal the documentation that Mr van Druden gave us for safe-keeping. It’s just a matter of when and how.” The security tech programmed the automated system. “Sorted, sir.” Don Fellici glared at the image of the international jewel thief as she handed her bags over in the luxury arrival terminal of the five-star hotel owned and operated by the scientific criminal organisation BALD. “You’ve made a mistake coming here, Champagne,” he told the woman on the screen. “A final mistake.” The other console operators quickly moved away from Technician Sure when Don Fellici came back into the room and tried to look as if they hadn’t been flirting with the newbie. The great thing about BALD costumes was that those big dome helmets could hide any amount of zits. And with a name like Chrissy Sure there were so many possible crude jokes about her being a Sure Thing. “Where is she now?” demanded Don Fellici. “I’ve got to give a report to MODEM itself.” The security tech knew exactly which ‘she’ her boss was talking about. “I’ve been keeping special tabs on her sir,” Technician Sure said eagerly. “Do you want to review her actions since she came into the expo?” Isla Peligro’s security chief slapped the girl’s hands away from the console and he took charge himself. He fast-forwarded through multi-angle shots of the subject mixing and mingling with the crowds. He paused and more closely examined the moments where she came near somebody significant. “Do we have a transcript of her conversation with the Fokker twins?” he said. “Yes sir. Here it is. They discussed the new Mark IV Evidence Eradicator. Champagne thought it left a trace carbon odor.” “What about this, then, where she’s chatting with Thighmaster?” “She wasn’t selling what he was looking to buy.” “And here, where she’s at the Machine Shop stall?” “She just took some leaflets and one of their promotional DVDs. She played it later in her room.” Don Fellici wasn’t satisfied. “She’s planning something.” He fast-forwarded through her browsing the display stands, then stopped for a more detailed look as the subject talked with Dr Spankenstein about his latest flagellation gun. The doctor’s quest to recreate the legendary Spank Ray continued. “What’s she doing?” Don Fellici puzzled. “She’s behaving as if she was just another expo visitor, here on her father’s ticket. But she’s got to be setting something up.” Technician Sure raised a tentative hand. “Sir? The DVD?” “What about the DVD? What are you…” Then Don Fellici caught up. He snapped his fingers. “Of course! The DVD! You said she played it later, on the system in her room. That’s an integrated system. Let’s see what she was really doing.” The whole room set to work checking that. It does wonders for worker motivation when you work for a company with a human resources department that has an arbitrary executions policy “I’ve got it!” Senior Computer Specialist Keegan said. “Look here. She put the promotional DVD in the machine, sure… but it had been modified somehow. Look at this code here. She somehow subverted the Machine Shop software to slip that in unnoticed. Pretty sneaky.” “Sneaky,” spat Don Fellici, livid that this had taken place under his own nose, while they’d been watching. “What did it do? Quickly!” Keegan tapped on his keyboard faster. “Um… looks like it fed some kind of trojan into our securityware, sir. Created a false security clearance and some kind of override on the camera signals from Champagne’s room.” “We’re not getting the proper signals from Champagne’s room, sir!” Technician Sure called, her hands frantically speeding over her control board. “We’re being fed a picture loop. She may not be in her room, in her bed, at all!” “Get a security detail down there to check in person!” shouted Don Fellici. “Now! Armed!” “There’s more,” Keegan said. “She’s entered herself as a privileged security user. She can enter the underground base with that clearance, all the way to the secure vault. And she can be invisible to our monitors.” “Full security lockdown!” commanded Don Fellici. “No more screwups! Send out agents with neural tranquilliser rifles. I want her alive to suffer for this.” “She won’t get far, sir,” promised the security technician, keenly. “There’s now way she’d ever make it into the secure vault. That security is impenetrable, even for a world-class burglar.” Don Fellici paused a moment. “Maybe,” he said. “I’m not taking that risk, though. I will not have BALD embarrassed by one petty thief. Go down to the secure vault. Take a full security team. Retrieve van Druden’s accounts book and bring it here, to me. Now!” Keegan was checking the power-readings on the automatic doors. There were tiny fluctuations in the energy grid when they opened and closed. “We have activity in level nine, sir! The submarine bay.” “The sub bay?” That made no sense to Don Fellici. Why would Champagne go to the submarine dock? There was no way she could steal a BALD craft and escape by that means. “Get me visual. Use the emergency override.” “There she is!” called Keegan. “She’s trying to manually open the bay doors.” “Flood the area with knockout gas,” Don Fellici ordered. “Then get a patrol there fast.” A horrible though occurred to him that if Champage was trying to escape via submarine then she must already have what she was looking for. “Fellici to security team at the secure vault. Are you there yet? Have you secured the ledger?” No reply. “Sir, Champagne is ignoring the gas. She must have nose filters.” “Impossible! That gas is a BALD proprietary product. It operates by skin contact. She’d need an all-over body suit to resist it.” But the fugitive was ignoring the toxic fumes and had got the sub bay open. The security detail arrived. They fired their neural stunners at the intruder. She cartwheeled aside then bounced forward, taking the first two BALD troopers down with scissor kicks. “Activate neural stunners throughout the whole sub bay!” Don Fellici ordered. “I know it’ll take our men down too. I don’t care. Do it!” “Done, sir!” Keegan said. Intruder and troopers alike dropped like stringless puppets. “Now let’s bring this under control,” said Don Fellici, scowling. “Get a squad down to the sub bay to take Champagne to the interrogation suite. Run a full diagnostic to find out how she managed to resist our stun gas. And somebody get me in contact with Technician Sure in the secure vault.” “Getting a feed through now,” reported Keegan. The picture flickered into focus, showing a fully-armed security squad locked into a burglar-proof room. Security Technician Sure wasn’t with them. Only her dark wig. “Sir, I’ve got the diagnostic results on the sub bay,” said Keegan. “Seems, um, seems that the subject didn’t go down because she wasn’t human. She was a robot. We think. Some kind of artificial life form anyhow. Very sophisticated sensor baffles. Not Champagne. She was never Champagne.” “Then where is Champagne?” demanded Don Fellici. Keegan winced. “You know, Sure is an anagram of Ruse,” he pointed out. “And Technican Sure was right. There was no way for a burglar to break into our secure vault. As long as it was locked.” Yuki Shiro simply swam underwater through the open door of the submarine bay and kept to the bottom until she was three miles outside BALD’s sensor limit. Champagne used the over-rides that Technician Sure had programmed in to Isla Peligro’s security net to borrow a jet-ski and join the cyborg private investigator she’d hired back on their getaway yacht. There Yuki got the complete download of secure BALD operations in payment for her services. Champagne took the ledger she’d been after to put to good use. “Champagne has the ledger, Mr van Druden. We’re still working out the how.” “The how doesn’t matter. The damage she could do with those accounts, that’s what matters. I need her taken down, and taken down now.” Lucius van Druden picked up the phone on his desk and dialled an international number. “I have another job for you,” he said down the phone line to one of the deadliest hunters in the world, “Captor.” |
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champagne (hopes this story is o.k.) Sun Feb 17, 2008 at 09:25:05 am EST |
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