The Revenge of Seven
Page 35
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‘From what I can gather, this is almost five years’ worth of Mogadorian intelligence,’ Malcolm explains. ‘I’d need an entire team to go through it all. Even with Adam translating these titles, which are basically just dates and times, it’s hard to figure out where to begin.’
‘Maybe we can hire some interns,’ Sam suggests, then tugs my arm. ‘Come on, we gotta see Adam.’
‘Do what you can,’ I tell Malcolm before Sam drags me away. ‘Even the smallest bit of information might help.’
A few more steps down the hall and we reach the room Adam described as the control center. The room is pretty much undamaged, so it’s where we set up shop. The walls are covered in monitors, security-camera footage from Ashwood streaming over some, but also video feeds from other places, including one hacked security camera outside the barricaded John Hancock Center. Beneath the monitors are a row of computers, not exactly user-friendly since all the keys are in Mogadorian.
I put my hands on my hips and survey this place, watching the camera feeds that not too long ago would’ve been trained on me. It feels strange to be on the other side. Like Sam, this place makes me uneasy.
‘Are we safe here?’ I ask. ‘All these cameras … there aren’t any pointed back at us?’
‘I’ve disabled them,’ Adam replies. He’s in a swivel chair at one of the computers, typing out a string of commands. He turns around to face me. ‘Using the General’s authorization, I’ve sent a code back to the Mogadorian command in West Virginia reporting that the salvage team uncovered a toxic chemical leak. It’ll take some time to clean up. They’ll assume the failed cameras have something to do with the salvage team’s work.’
‘How much time does that buy us?’
‘A couple of days? A week?’ Adam replies. ‘They’ll become suspicious when the General doesn’t check in, but we should slip through the cracks for a while.’
‘What do we look for in the meantime?’
‘Your friends,’ Adam replies. ‘In fact, I believe I’ve already found them.’
‘Yeah, Florida,’ I say. ‘We already knew that.’
‘No, he found them. Like, exactly,’ Sam replies, grinning at me. ‘That’s why I came to get you. Check this out.’
Sam points at one of the screens, this one displaying a map of the United States. The map is covered in triangles of various sizes. There’s a small triangle over our location along with a few similar-sized indicators scattered throughout the country. There are bigger triangles glowing on top of population centers. New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Houston – all these cities are marked on the map. The biggest triangle of all is to the west of us, right around where the Mogs’ mountain base is hidden in West Virginia.
‘This is a, uh …’ Sam looks over at Adam. ‘What’d you call this thing?’
‘Tactical asset overview,’ Adam replies. ‘It shows where my people have ongoing operations.’
‘They’re massing in the major cities,’ I say, studying the map.
‘Yeah,’ Adam replies, grimly. ‘In preparation for the invasion.’
‘Let’s not focus on the i-word right now, okay?’ Sam says. ‘Look at this.’
Sam has plugged the tablet displaying the location of the other Garde into one of the computers. He hands it to me and my eyes immediately shoot to Florida. My heart skips a beat; there’s only one blinking dot on the map. It takes me a moment to realize that the four dots symbolizing each of the remaining Garde have actually gotten so close together that they perfectly overlap.
‘They’re almost on top of each other,’ I say. ‘All four of them.’
‘Yep,’ Sam replies, taking back the tablet. ‘And look at this.’
He holds the tablet up next to the map of Mogadorian activity. The four dots perfectly line up with one of the smaller orange triangles in Florida.
‘The Mogs have them,’ I say, gritting my teeth. ‘Adam, is that a base of some kind?’
‘A research station,’ he replies. ‘The records show there was some genetic experimentation being done there. It isn’t the kind of place we’d normally keep prisoners, especially not Garde.’
‘Why even take prisoners at this point?’ Sam asks. ‘I mean, I get Setrákus Ra has some weird thing for Ella. But the others …’
‘They aren’t prisoners,’ I say, hitting Sam on the arm in excitement as this dawns on me. ‘The others are up to something. They’re on the attack.’
‘I’m working on getting us a visual of the base,’ Adam says, his fingers racing across the keyboard.
‘How’re you going to do that?’ I ask.
I sit down in the swivel chair next to Adam and watch his hands flick across the Mogadorian keyboard. Whatever he’s doing seems almost like second nature.
‘I’ve locked down a scout ship so they won’t be able to operate it. That was the easy part. Accessing and isolating its onboard surveillance while still keeping the craft inoperable is proving trickier.’
‘You’re hacking into a ship?’ Sam asks, leaning over the back of Adam’s chair.
I watch the monitor directly in front of Adam crackle with static. ‘How does that help us?’
‘This control room is a nerve center, John,’ Adam explains, taking a moment away from typing to gesture around. ‘Information from all the other bases feeds to here. It is just a matter of accessing it.’
‘Maybe we can hire some interns,’ Sam suggests, then tugs my arm. ‘Come on, we gotta see Adam.’
‘Do what you can,’ I tell Malcolm before Sam drags me away. ‘Even the smallest bit of information might help.’
A few more steps down the hall and we reach the room Adam described as the control center. The room is pretty much undamaged, so it’s where we set up shop. The walls are covered in monitors, security-camera footage from Ashwood streaming over some, but also video feeds from other places, including one hacked security camera outside the barricaded John Hancock Center. Beneath the monitors are a row of computers, not exactly user-friendly since all the keys are in Mogadorian.
I put my hands on my hips and survey this place, watching the camera feeds that not too long ago would’ve been trained on me. It feels strange to be on the other side. Like Sam, this place makes me uneasy.
‘Are we safe here?’ I ask. ‘All these cameras … there aren’t any pointed back at us?’
‘I’ve disabled them,’ Adam replies. He’s in a swivel chair at one of the computers, typing out a string of commands. He turns around to face me. ‘Using the General’s authorization, I’ve sent a code back to the Mogadorian command in West Virginia reporting that the salvage team uncovered a toxic chemical leak. It’ll take some time to clean up. They’ll assume the failed cameras have something to do with the salvage team’s work.’
‘How much time does that buy us?’
‘A couple of days? A week?’ Adam replies. ‘They’ll become suspicious when the General doesn’t check in, but we should slip through the cracks for a while.’
‘What do we look for in the meantime?’
‘Your friends,’ Adam replies. ‘In fact, I believe I’ve already found them.’
‘Yeah, Florida,’ I say. ‘We already knew that.’
‘No, he found them. Like, exactly,’ Sam replies, grinning at me. ‘That’s why I came to get you. Check this out.’
Sam points at one of the screens, this one displaying a map of the United States. The map is covered in triangles of various sizes. There’s a small triangle over our location along with a few similar-sized indicators scattered throughout the country. There are bigger triangles glowing on top of population centers. New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Houston – all these cities are marked on the map. The biggest triangle of all is to the west of us, right around where the Mogs’ mountain base is hidden in West Virginia.
‘This is a, uh …’ Sam looks over at Adam. ‘What’d you call this thing?’
‘Tactical asset overview,’ Adam replies. ‘It shows where my people have ongoing operations.’
‘They’re massing in the major cities,’ I say, studying the map.
‘Yeah,’ Adam replies, grimly. ‘In preparation for the invasion.’
‘Let’s not focus on the i-word right now, okay?’ Sam says. ‘Look at this.’
Sam has plugged the tablet displaying the location of the other Garde into one of the computers. He hands it to me and my eyes immediately shoot to Florida. My heart skips a beat; there’s only one blinking dot on the map. It takes me a moment to realize that the four dots symbolizing each of the remaining Garde have actually gotten so close together that they perfectly overlap.
‘They’re almost on top of each other,’ I say. ‘All four of them.’
‘Yep,’ Sam replies, taking back the tablet. ‘And look at this.’
He holds the tablet up next to the map of Mogadorian activity. The four dots perfectly line up with one of the smaller orange triangles in Florida.
‘The Mogs have them,’ I say, gritting my teeth. ‘Adam, is that a base of some kind?’
‘A research station,’ he replies. ‘The records show there was some genetic experimentation being done there. It isn’t the kind of place we’d normally keep prisoners, especially not Garde.’
‘Why even take prisoners at this point?’ Sam asks. ‘I mean, I get Setrákus Ra has some weird thing for Ella. But the others …’
‘They aren’t prisoners,’ I say, hitting Sam on the arm in excitement as this dawns on me. ‘The others are up to something. They’re on the attack.’
‘I’m working on getting us a visual of the base,’ Adam says, his fingers racing across the keyboard.
‘How’re you going to do that?’ I ask.
I sit down in the swivel chair next to Adam and watch his hands flick across the Mogadorian keyboard. Whatever he’s doing seems almost like second nature.
‘I’ve locked down a scout ship so they won’t be able to operate it. That was the easy part. Accessing and isolating its onboard surveillance while still keeping the craft inoperable is proving trickier.’
‘You’re hacking into a ship?’ Sam asks, leaning over the back of Adam’s chair.
I watch the monitor directly in front of Adam crackle with static. ‘How does that help us?’
‘This control room is a nerve center, John,’ Adam explains, taking a moment away from typing to gesture around. ‘Information from all the other bases feeds to here. It is just a matter of accessing it.’
