Chapter Eighteen
Dakota
Friday
They were standing with Hailey’s husband, Ares; his dog, Judge, was at his feet.
“DARPA had been working on developing smart cameras that could differentiate between a human and anything else that might be moving through an open space,” Ares explained. “It would give guards enough warning to conduct a meet-and-greet before their perimeter was breached. The goal today is to get past the camera and into the building without detection.”
“You’re going?” Hailey asked him.
“Judge and I are next up,” he said, turning his attention to the group of Iniquus spectators standing at the start line.
“And you have a strategy?” Hailey asked.
Ares chuckled. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Broad daylight. Open field,” Neesa said. “Does this seem like a waste of time?”
“Looks like they chose a bunch of Marine Raiders,” Hailey said. “Deep DelToro and Gator Rochambeau from Strike Force and Creed Duchamp from Cerberus Tactical Team Charlie. You can’t stop a Marine.”
“Creed is going out with his puppy Rugaroo,” Ares pointed out a man playing ball with a black lab. “He says he’s doing a little Hoodoo he learned along the way, and they’ll slip on by like mist on the water.”
“Not testing the system against Combatant-craft Crewmen seems problematic,” Jasper said.
“You want to take a stab at it?” Ares asked.
Dakota stepped forward. “I would.”
“You need a team,” Ares said. “They don’t want anyone to go as individuals.”
“Tank.” He turned to Rylee. “You wanna play?”
“I’m game.”
“I’ll put your name on the list.” Ares bent and kissed Hailey. “I’ll see you later.” He turned to their group. “Good luck. I’ll leave you to strategize.”
“All right,” Dakota slid his hands into his pockets. “Let’s get some ideas together. How would you do it, Rylee?” Dakota asked.
“Surely not somersaulting across the field like those two are doing.” They all turned to look where Rylee pointed.
“Deep and Gator, Marine Raiders,” Hailey said.
“Of course they are,” Jasper said. “Who else would do shit like that for two hundred yards? The DARPA flag is still green, though, so the AI hasn’t spotted them.”
“Surely, they were spotted,” Neesa said, “They just weren’t identified as human.”
“Yeah, that’s my idea,” Rylee said. “They’re not looking for a dog. We should go in disguised as Tank.”
Dakota turned to her. “Listening.”
“There was a time or two when the only way that I could get one of my injured Marines off the battlefield was to put them on my back and slither out like a turtle. Bad simile, turtles are up on their legs. Some kind of lizard. It was on packed ground, and it was rough to do. But is there anything with that image we can work with?”
“Like Dakota’s on the bottom, you’re on top, Tank on top of you?” Neesa asked.
“That’s about two hundred and fifty pounds on top of Dakota. I wouldn’t do that. Can we use ghillie suits?” Rylee asked Hailey.
“You can only use what you find in the area,” Hailey said. “Oh, look, Ares is up at the line. He’s going under a cardboard box, and Judge is going under another.” Hailey held her hands over her mouth as she sent a whoop! their way. “That’s amazing.”
