Sneek peek at the next Aeon novel: Do No Evil

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It was 3AM precisely and the computer in Sarah Fenton's brain told her she had a five percent chance of dying before 4.

She shut down her brain implant so it wouldn't overheat. Five percent was a small number. One in twenty. But now that small number loomed across Sarah's consciousness, overwhelming her with a desire to flee.

Sarah had fought some virtual battles and observed an aborted commando raid, but tonight would be her first time going into real combat herself. And she'd be going in alone. Despite her ability to adjust her mood and stress level by consciously secreting hormones into her bloodstream, her stomach was curdling and she hadn't been able to eat all day.

Willy might understand if she ran, Sarah guessed, but General Jaeger wouldn't.

"Are you ready, Ghost leader?" Brigadier General Rad Jaeger was addressing her over her radio headset. His voice, even now, retained its normal tone of condescension.

"Yes, I'm ready to go, sir," Sarah responded, driving back the urge to say "no."

Sarah was surprised that Jaeger had assigned her to spearhead tonight's raid on the Aeon facility, given he had been disappointed by her relationship with one of the Aeons. Nine months ago, she had been assigned to gather intelligence on the Aeons by going undercover and beguiling Vinicius, or Nick as everyone called him. But instead of coopting Nick, she had fallen in love with him.

She'd loved Nick because despite his vast wealth and power, he was compassionate and unassuming, even meek. And because he was so good-natured he wasn't capable of understanding the evil his compatriots were committing in his name. Her intimacy with Nick, while not part of her assignment, would eventually have helped her bring him over as a double agent.

But General Jaeger hadn't seen it like that. He'd been furious about the affair, and forced her to end the surveillance by faking her death during one of the energy riots shaking New York.

"Good," replied Jaeger. "Just get in and take down their sensors, Ghost Leader. The rest is up to Silverstein's Demons."

"Yes, sir!" she answered.

"Go get 'em, Sarah. Or should I say, Ghost Leader!" Michael Kang had walked up behind where she stood on the pitching deck of the boat. He looked at her intently with his black almond-shaped eyes and forced a smile. Sarah knew Michael was unhappy about her dangerous role in the upcoming raid. Hopefully he would not let his emotions affect his judgment. Sarah would be counting on him to help her make sound decisions to keep the whole team safe.

"I'll get the assault squad in safely. Hopefully we'll drag Laura Mayer out in handcuffs," Sarah said. Laura Mayer was the target of tonight's raid. At 20, Laura was just two years older than Sarah. But as leader of the Aeons, Laura was arguably the most powerful - and most dangerous - person on the planet.

"Sounds like you're going to have all the fun," continued Michael.

"Don't worry, I'll leave some Aeons for you, Ghost Control," replied Sarah, finally managing to smile slightly.

Despite her show of bravado, Sarah's hands were shaking. To occupy herself and calm her nerves, she began to check her equipment, one last time.

She started with her weapons. She had a laser rifle, a silenced 9MM automatic handgun, two fragmentation grenades, and a flash-bang stun grenade. She also had a self-heating serrated knife, primarily meant to cut through metal barriers yet usable in combat.

In her backpack and pouches on her hips she carried a first-aid kit, a silenced cement drill, three small charges of plastic explosives, a wand-like device custom designed for cutting into data cables and hijacking their signals, and a matching set of gloves and overshoes with multiple functions.

All of these items were held to her body by black straps and webbing that matched her body armor. The protective suit, custom made to match the curves of her body, was made of a prototype alloy of titanium and ceramic called DualProtect. It was dense enough to stop a high powered bullet or to absorb the shock of an explosion. When heated by a laser beam, its matte black surface melted and became mirrored, diffusing the beam harmlessly.

Sarah's once long blonde hair had been given a utilitarian cut, the bangs short and the longest strands barely reaching her shoulders even when not wound into a tight bun inside her helmet. The back of her helmet held a bulky cooling system that would allow her to use her TacWave brain implants for about fifteen minutes straight without fatally overheating her skull.

Her equipment was all in good order, of course. In her earpiece, she heard Greg Silverstein running through the final roll call of the Demons. The Demons were comprised of two squads of ten commandos, and would be making the arrests tonight.

For the raid to go smoothly, she'd have to coordinate closely with Greg, without the benefit of being able to see or communicate with him. She respected Greg as a comrade who would protect her no matter what. But she had hardly talked to him in the fifteen months since she and Michael had been made Ghosts and Greg had been assigned to the Demons.

She'd confronted Colonel William Johnson, General Jaeger's deputy and the senior officer she was closest to, with the need for more time to jointly rehearse the raid with the Demons. She'd seen his characteristic look of guilt flash across his face, and then he had shaken his head and said, "The orders to attack now come straight from the Commander in Chief."

"The President?"

"Yes. Since Laura Mayer bombed Reverend Tracy Cruz' chopper, Cruz has hardened her view of the Federal government. She thinks we're in bed with the Aeons. The President wants a visible strike against the Aeons to assure Cruz we can all cooperate.

"Fine, we'll give the President a win. But we still need more time to prepare."

"The President doesn't have more time. Cruz is on the verge of declaring independence from the United States. Her husband died in that bombing. It's personal for her. The President sees a need to strike hard and strike fast."

"I understand it's a crisis. But can't we just have two or three more days? Our chances of winning will go up a lot if we can prepare properly," Sarah had pressed.

"Sorry, Sarah. Michael's intelligence suggests Laura is at the haven now. But there's no telling how long she'll stay. The President can't risk letting her get away," Willy had explained.

Soon after that discussion, General Jaeger had removed Willy from the mission planning process and Sarah hadn't been able to get straight answers about anything.

Jaeger made no secret of his contempt for Sarah, which was hard to square with the fact that he'd given her the most critical role in this urgent raid. Then again, she knew Jaeger didn't have much choice. After all, only a Ghost equipped with a TacWave would have a chance of knocking down the defenses of an Aeon haven, and she and Michael were the only two Ghosts. Sarah had always had stronger command of the TacWave's tactical functions than Michael. And her feelings for Nick Lal would not be a liability: intelligence gathered by Michael indicated that Nick, who had been badly injured in a recent fire-bombing targeting his parents, was not at the facility.

Jaeger would be supervising the mission from the small, blacked-out fishing boat in Chesapeake Bay that the entire strike force was currently squeezed into. He would monitor the raid via radio and via an interface that gave him a limited ability to use Michael's TacWave to communicate directly with Sarah. But much of the mission would be conducted in radio silence, leaving Jaeger unable to communicate with his troops. Once their boots were on the ground, Sarah and Greg would be in tactical control of the operation.

The timing of the raid would require precise coordination between her and Greg. They were attacking at low tide, so that the water level would be below the narrow beach that was completely submerged most of the time. Sarah would land first on Western banks of the bay, a quarter mile from the walls of the Aeon compound, and advance along narrow trails through the rocky, forested terrain. Ten minutes later, Greg would lead his team to assault Sanctuary's walls and arrest its inhabitants.

The intelligence they had, mostly gathered by Michael, told them that the Aeons called the facility Sanctuary. It was the first of several fortified redoubts, or havens, they planned to build around the world. They had built sophisticated security systems throughout Sanctuary, which could be used to coordinate a spirited defense. Sarah's objective was to make sure she destroyed those systems right before Greg's team struck. If Greg moved his men in while Sanctuary's defenses were operational, he would face a deadly tactical disadvantage against the Aeons.

Conversely, if Sarah shut down the security systems too long before Greg struck, the Aeons would be alerted to the attack and have time to organize their defenses. Even without functioning security systems, the dozen armed guards who resided at the haven would be a strong defensive force. If Sarah's timing was off, whether too early or too late, the intended surprise raid would turn into a shooting match.

"Roll call complete. Initiate mission Golden Calf, and begin radio silence," ordered Jaeger.

That was Sarah's signal. She nodded to Greg and Michael, and flexed her shoulders as she pulled tactical goggles over her blue eyes to protect them from sand blown off the beach by the night's stiff breeze. Then she stepped into a small black rubber raft and pushed it into the dark waters of Chesapeake Bay. In the inflated boat, it was a fifteen minute sprint to the shore, across confusing currents, in pitch black on a moonless night. She ought to be worried about missing the beach entirely. But she wasn't worried about that at all. Her TacWave would guide her.

Nevertheless, she felt a deep sense of foreboding as the small motor pushed her towards the shore. She was used to being alone, and tonight was not the first time she'd been in danger. But it was the first time she'd sought danger out. And now she was risking not only her own life, but also twenty-one others. She reached up to rub the silver cross necklace her dying mother had given her when she was seven. Of course, the necklace was gone; she had secretly given it to Nick as a sign of her love.

She would have felt better if Willy on the mission. She trusted Willy. Even more than Michael, Willy had become her closest confidant in the last few years.

Sarah remained anxious until she landed her raft on a narrow beach covered in coarse sand. As she stepped into the shallow surf, she felt a transformation like those she'd felt as a teenager competing at track meets. Before a race, she'd be horribly nervous. Then, as soon as she stepped up to the starting line, her apprehension would melt away and be replaced by alertness and determination. She straightened her shoulders and set her jaw. She didn't need Willy to hold her hand. This was what she'd been trained to do.

She pulled the vessel onto the beach as quietly as she could, settled her backpack, and deftly climbed up the rocky cliffs to the flat ground above. It was easy enough to make her way across the forested terrain that led inland, even in the pitch dark. Thanks to artificial retinas and the image enhancement powers of her TacWave, her night vision was almost as good as her day vision.

From two hundred feet out, she saw the two sentries, pacing around the outer wall, smoking, chatting. Amateurs. Getting past them wouldn't be a challenge. Every fifty feet along the top of the wall, she also saw tiny cameras silently swiveling on their bearings. They were the outermost of several layers of security systems that protected Sanctuary. But the haven had been constructed in haste, and there were vulnerabilities in its design. Sarah would be taking advantage of many of those weaknesses tonight.

She quickly slipped from tree to tree, timing her movements to coincide with momentary holes in the view of the pivoting security cameras. She reached the base of the wall a minute later.

Now the hard part would begin. While the cameras' view of the terrain outside the walls had holes, they maintained an excellent view of the top of the wall and the inside of the haven. Sarah would need to disable them before she climbed the wall.

The escarpment was made of two foot thick concrete, reinforced with metal rods. The power and data cables that controlled the cameras ran up and down the inside face of the wall. At the top was the parapet that the sentries traversed. It was five feet wide and supported on its inner edge by steel columns every thirty feet.

Sarah slipped on her gloves and activated their electromagnetic sensors. Now she worked her way along the wall, feeling its surface with her hands. Two feet along from where she started, she felt a strong magnetic surge. She halted for a moment, probing carefully with both hands, hope beating in her heart. Was it the wire she needed?

No, it was too big to be a wire. It was one of the metal reinforcements inside the concrete.

She kept working her way down. A step further, she felt a fainter magnetic field. She paused and concentrated on its size and shape. Not a wire. It was one of the thin steel supports that held up the parapet above her.

The clock in her head was ticking down. Greg was now eight minutes behind her.

Sarah kept sliding her palms across the concrete surface. Finally, she was sure she'd found a set of camera wires.

She removed one of her magnetic gloves and pulled her drill out of a large pouch on her waist. It looked almost like a small megaphone: a pistol grip with a plastic trigger. Instead of a gun barrel or drill bit, the front of the device was a large cone, with soft rubber around the edge. The drill bit was concealed within. She positioned the device, being careful to ensure the shell of the megaphone was flush against the wall.

As she pulled the plastic trigger, the sound of the drilling was completely muffled by the combination of the cone-shaped shell and the white noise emitters built into the device. Sarah leaned into the drill, willing it to quickly bite its way through the two feet of concrete.

When the drill had cut a narrow shaft that exited the wall's opposite face exactly half an inch to the right of the camera wires, Sarah shut it off and pulled the bit back out.

In its place she slipped her metallic wand. As the probe's head cleared the other side of the wall, she squeezed a button on its handle. The head of the wand opened into six narrow strips of metal that slowly bent backwards against the wall.  Two of the six heads hit the video data wire and cut through the rubber insulation. They stopped as soon as they pressed up against the copper core of the wire.

A light set into the base of the wand in Sarah's hand blinked red twice to indicate it had connected. This signal was redundant, because Sarah already knew. Her TacWave was connected to the probe by a narrow black wire, and her mind was now inside the camera control system.

Each camera had a six second transverse period - the time it took for them to rotate left, rotate right, and then come back to the center again. She waited for five full periods, grimacing as thirty valuable seconds ticked away. By now the microchip in the wand had collected enough data. She could climb the walls and walk around inside the haven, but the microchip would make her invisible to the cameras. 

The cameras along the wall were now useless. Even worse for the defenders, they appeared to be working properly. The security team inside the base still had no warning that they were under attack.

Sarah quickly disconnected from the device, which she left hanging from the wall, and put away her drill. Now she activated the grip functions on her gloves and overshoes. Forests of nano-sized hooks sprouted out of her glove fingers and her boot soles. These allowed her to scale the smooth concrete of the wall as if she were an insect.

Unlike Greg's Demons, Sarah was not equipped with a powered exoskeleton, so she had to rely entirely on her own physical strength to climb the twelve foot wall while bearing the weight of her equipment and DualProtect armor. Soon, her arms and back were burning with lactic acid. But she was strong enough to clear the obstacle, a testament to the value of the intense physical training Jaeger had insisted Willy put her through during the past several months.

It was easy enough to slip past the sentries when they were on the far side of the wall. She dropped down, deactivated the grip functionality and oriented herself inside the compound. She stood at the edge of a large central courtyard with a roughly circular pattern of buildings around it. As she'd expected, most of the haven's buildings looked incomplete, like they were still being insulated and fitted with pipes and wires.

The large concrete building with large antennae obscuring half of its roof was clearly her target. She recalled that the Aeons called it the Divine Residence.  She needed to get onto the residence's roof and break into the antenna, which would allow her to infiltrate and disable the haven's central security systems.

The only person she saw in the courtyard with her was a tall figure in a scarlet tunic standing near the thick steel front door of the Divine Residence. Its back was to Sarah so she couldn't identify it, but given its abnormal height, the horns that curved above its head, and the glints of metal she saw through its hair, she knew it was one of the Aeons. Probably Jakobus Van de Merwe, though the man's fingertips were obscured by his body so she couldn't zoom in with her enhanced vision for a positive ID.

Regardless of who it was, she knew most Aeons had night vision nearly as good as hers, so she'd have to be careful as she moved towards the Divine Residence.

But she now had only five minutes' lead on Greg's team, so she'd also have to be fast.

Sarah slipped across the compound, staying in the darkest patches, making sure the lone figure did not turn and see her.

Finally, she made it to the most shadowy face of the Divine Residence. She reactivated her nano grip devices and pulled herself up the side of the three story building quickly and silently, sliding across the slightly sloped roof to the side of the antenna opposite to the metal roof access panel.  From her elevated perch, the night's stiff breeze seemed even stronger, and loose strands of her hair whipped around inside her helmet.

Her gloves were supple, yet they were still stiff enough to impair her manual dexterity, so she stripped them off. The clock in her head told her Michael and Greg's first squad would be arriving on the beach now.

She took a deep breath and calmed herself. The next bit would require precision.

The antenna she was pressing herself against sent its signals through wires protected by an aluminum tube running down its side. The Aeons should have shielded these wires better. This was another design flaw, attributable to the hurried construction of the haven. All Sarah had to do was penetrate this tube, connect to the control wires with her TacWave, and use the opening to infiltrate the building's security systems.

If there were any security systems she was unable to disable via the antenna, she'd have to slither inside the roof

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