“They should be killing each other right now on the west coast.”, the Agent smiled, eager to get things going.
It was midnight PST, when the first wave of uncontrolled violence would be unleashed. Perfect timing for this operation. Down in the underground bunker, computer operators lounged and joked with each other, taking side bets on the action.
“Hey Bob, you going in on the L.A. pool?”
Bob grinned, but waved him away.
“No thanks, got a few things I have to get done tonight. You boys enjoy the show – and hopefully win some money.”
The tech smiled and turned back to his screen, watching a group of men chase a young woman down the middle of the street. The scene was replicated all over the walls, with shots of beheadings and blunt force trauma, high-definition violence practically bursting through the thin-film displays covering every vertical surface.
With the west coast on [ACTIVE] status, Larsen had clearance to proceed. Turning to his desk, he retrieved the folder and flipped through the hardcopy – nothing was stored digitally for this project, for specific security reasons. Reviewing the pages, he flicked down the operational checklist and read the list of names. Stupid bastards. You’d think the purge would be enough for them.
There were always some elements that had to eat their cake and have it too, he mused. Glancing at his watch, he synced it up with the atomic clock on the wall. The four monitors on his desk were nearly seamless on the sides, allowing a full point-of-view projection of the current operation in progress.
Time to kick this live. Taking the key out of the pouch, he inserted it into its special slot and turned it. The screens lit with the agency logo, virtual lights creating strong reflections on the eagle’s crest.
“We are go for operation BLUE STRIKE, I repeat, we are a GO.”, Bob’s words traveled through a few heavily encrypted nodes before emerging in to the waiting ears of the special ops team stationed outside the first target. It was a typical bang-and-nail job, some idiot hacker in San Jose had been treading awfully close to certain secrets that were best left alone.
“Roger, sitrep after job is complete – ETA Five minutes.”, click-chirp cutting off the team lead.
This was the fun part, watching some hapless fool with delusions of bringing the system down beg for his life. Right up to the point where the rifle was pointed at his head and he was put out of his misery. This one had been closer than most, so they’d have to take the hardware back for analysis too. It was a pain in the ass, but somebody had to do it.
Nobody would notice the four man team on the apartment roof, the subsequent rappel down to the 8th floor balcony, the kicking in of the sliding glass door, or the sharp report of an assault rifle ending a potential security problem. Hell, most of those poor bastards were huddling in their homes, trying to stay out of the chaos outside.
“Sir, its done – we’ve got the payload.”
“Great work, I’ll be sure to put in a good word at your next combat review.”, Bob smiled again, he was ahead of schedule. A few more like that, and he’d bring in a hefty bonus this year.
Switching channels, he keyed the mic again, “Guys, team one is done – double bennies if you pull yours off in under ten minutes.”
Turning slightly, looking at the list, Bob carefully crossed off the first name.
It was going to be a great night.