Harmonics: Rise of the Magician

  *****

  Roman sat at the dingy bar looking at the drink that sat before him and thinking about yesterday's ordeal. He had located his target and had executed a foolproof plan to take him into custody, but now the thief was sitting in a jail cell waiting for his fate to be decided by the local council members. Despite the Major promising to introduce Roman to some of the more prominent council members, he had also explained that it would not be a quick process.

  In a matter of minutes Roman's hopes of leaving the Burning Plains were dashed into very small pieces. There was no way he could leave now that the target had been positively located. Roman had spent the last few hours gathering up the courage to report the series of events that had led him to this predicament.

  He decided to check his secure messages before placing the dreaded call. Nothing. Roman tried to log in to the comm server. No luck. The coverage down here was spotty at best, and he hadn't been able to log in for a few days now. Maybe he could postpone the dreaded call after all. He thought back to his conversation with his contact a few days ago and then to the fact that the lucky stiff was not in this grimy bar.

  Roman set down the interface and picked up his drink, a feeling of delayed doom replacing the impending one. He knocked back the spirits and started to get up from the bar when the news vid caught his eye. It wasn't the reporter or the station that he recognized. Rather, it was the building in the image that the anchor was talking about. Roman knew it from somewhere.

  He studied it for a moment, his mental processes trying to pull out the reference. Then it hit him as the scene changed to a previously recorded clip. It was the UON apartment building that Shu was in. Roman barked at the barman to turn up the feed. He watched as the news report relayed that there still were no leads after the horrific scene at the apartments three nights ago.

  Roman's feeling of delayed doom gave way to full blown panic. If Shu was dead, that meant ... Cho.

  Roman snatched his interface. Still no coverage. He had to warn Cho. Roman just hoped he wasn't too late.

  Cold as Ice

  Time: Five years, three days after the desert facility was destroyed, nighttime

  Scene: Remote island estate

  The German shepherd sniffs the fence as his handler leads him along the perimeter of the estate. Other dogs trot along the opposite side of the property, each with a gun-toting handler. While none of them wear an official uniform, their fatigues all match in color. Other dogless guards patrol the inner property line closest to the house. Invisible to the untrained observer, FLIR cameras dot the property and swing in a steady rhythmic motion from one side to the other.

  A short way off from the fence near the top of a tall pine, a man lies prone on one of the outermost branches of the massive tree. Wrapped head to toe in a black synthetic material, the man looks through his night vision lens at the sentries below. Through the blue-lit haze of his display, the man watches as the sweeping beams of infrared track along the ground around the estate.

  He is almost ready for his insertion.

  Slowly, methodically, he pulls out a grappling gun and levels it along the branch of the pine. Using the gun's site, he adjusts the minuscule laser dot shimmering off the side of the estate. Silently locking the gun's mounts into place, the man reaches down and wraps his arm and hand along the thick branch that is supporting him.

  He closes his eyes and remains still for many moments. Slowly, he raises his foot off the branch at the trunk of the tree and swiftly brings it back down. Gripping the tree branch tightly with his wrapped arm, he squeezes his eyes closed. Moments later he hears the barking begin, shortly followed by a low crash. Opening his eyes, he watches as handlers attempt to restrain dogs that are now pulling them to the opposite side of the estate. The FLIR cameras all sweep to one side to scan the far side of the house. Calmly the man squeezes the trigger of the grappling gun. With a quiet compressed-air pop, the hook launches across the lawn and embeds itself squarely in the house. Quickly the man connects his harness to the outstretched line and slides silently across the span in a matter of seconds.

  Once at the side of the house, he effortlessly flattens himself against the brick, blending in with the shadows created by the overhanging roof. The man quietly slaps his thigh with his free hand and then reaches out to touch the brick of the house. Astonishingly, he hangs from the brick. Unhooking himself from the line, he stretches out his other hand, repeats the same process, and begins to shimmy across the face of the wall.

  Down below, a guard and his dog come around the corner of the house, running towards the group of others gathered at the far end of the estate. The man flattens himself tighter against the brick, motionless as the guard passes him without notice. Tapping his hand against the brick, the man continues to ascend the wall. Finding himself at the topmost floor, he moves laterally across the wall towards a darkened window. He stops and rests the side of his head against the brick, just out of reach of the faint light emitting from the window. Closing his eyes, he remains there, intently focused on something that only he can hear. A wide grin slowly creeps across his face.