Aspis
By J. L. Young A man in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans leaned over the front of a car in the barn when a caller came. The footsteps on the gravel driveway made it clear it was a woman. He didn’t bother to look up from under the hood. She reached the doorway and he called out, “One step further and you won’t have time to regret it.” She paused. “You pull your gun and you’ll have wasted taxpayer money.” He suspected a red laser dot had painted the back of my skull and released his pistol grip. She gave a wry smile and proceeded into the building. “Why are you here, Lierian?” She looked at the torn-down engine and shifted her gaze toward him. He held a gleaming chrome ratchet, ready to strike. She admired his beard, which had several months of growth. “Not here.” He understood, stepped over to a workbench, sat down the ratchet, and collected a red rag to wipe the grease from his hands. They climbed into one of several closely parked black SUVs, their engines idling quietly. “I see the taxpayers sprang for leather seats.” Lierian disregarded his comment. The doors locked and a partition raised as the windows opaqued. A light on the console before her shifted from green to red. The SCIF had engaged, blocking all signals in and out of the vehicle. She sat comfortably in the seat next to him, despite knowing his training. “You didn’t travel 2,360 miles from Washington just to catch up. Whatever it is, I’m retired.” “As of 8:22 P.M. Eastern Standard Time, Orcianus, I have reinstated you.” I knew I had no choice in the matter. “Who’s dying of lead poisoning?” "A defected rogue agent, code-named Aspis," Lierian began. “Encrypted sensitive operational information on a two-zettabyte microdrive is in Aspis' possession and needs to be recovered. The agent is to be neutralized. The encryption has not yet been circumvented. Kamal Al-Azer. You’re familiar with him. He’s the buyer. I want to clarify Al-Azer is not a target and is off-limits to any action.” She continued, “Be warned, Aspis is part of Operation Deep K14. This Spec-ops superseded your specialized training. She’s enhanced and may have had facial reconstruction surgery to throw off recognition software.” “Enhanced, how so?” “That’s above my pay grade.” She handed him a plane ticket. He glanced at it, Dubai, as she said, “Have a safe flight.”
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