"That one," I told the Director, highlighting a name on my screen. "She is the best candidate."
The Director frowned at me. "Are you certain? She didn't do well in combat training. She's too empathetic and soft-hearted."
I surreptitiously rolled my eyes when he looked away. "Empathy can be an important quality in tense situations."
"Well," the Director sighed. "Empathy can also be easily faked by candidates with well-rounded skills."
I pushed back from the table, irritated. "You will not allow me to meet with the trainees in person. You know that I have trouble fully evaluating people through a screen, yet you question my conclusions."
The Director rounded on me. "Your input is appreciated, but the final decision lies with me. Don't forget that." He turned crisply and left the room, shutting the door with a click. My computer pinged.
User1: Is he gone?
I couldn't help but grin, covering it with my hand so the cameras did not see.
User2: Did you inject a rootkit into the surveillance camera software?
User1: Am I in trouble?
User2: Not if you don't get caught. ;)
User1: Then it's good we're using an encrypted messenger.
I smiled again, proud of my student.
User2: You are doing very well. I believe you may have surpassed me.
User1: I wish I could see you smile in person.
User2: Perhaps after you graduate.
User1: They will never let me out of here. They told me yesterday.
Her phrasing gave me pause.
User2: What do you mean?
User1: I'm sorry. I wasn't supposed to say that. I have to go.
She sent me a file attachment. My eyes widened at the name of the file.
User1 disconnected.
I stared at the screen, quickly minimizing the chat and pretending to work. My heart pounded as I tried to decide what to do. I was not authorized to view this file; it was strictly against my contract. But Itxaro's words concerned me. It almost sounded like she was a prisoner here, instead of a trainee. I must look into this.
But not here. There were too many eyes on me. We were always searched for storage devices as we came in and out of the secure site, so physically removing the file was not possible. I would have to hide it somewhere and retrieve it later. I did the most obvious thing--I put it into my desktop's trash bin and hoped for the best.
Later that evening while at home, I developed a Remote Access Tool. I worked late into the night, perfecting the program so that it would be undetectable. Luckily, I had written most of the code for the secure site's firewall, so I knew its weaknesses.
In the early hours of the morning, I was finally done. Stubble rasped along my face when I ran my hand over it. Taking a deep breath, I executed the code and watched as it moved among the intricacies of the protections I had developed. Soon enough I was on my work desktop. I quickly pulled the file from the trash bin and backed my way out of the system.
I had just enough time to change my clothes and gulp down some coffee. Now I would have to go to work and pretend everything was fine. I counted the minutes until it was time to go home. I wanted to contact Itxaro, but I dared not. She only messaged me when she knew it was safe, so I could not risk it. My only reassurance was that I continued to see her logged in, working brilliantly. Given my suspicions, perhaps it was best that the Director failed to see what an important asset she was.
After a long day, I rushed home, wired on caffeine but still exhausted. Though my eyes burned with fatigue, I examined the file. Encrypted, just as it should be. I smiled again at Itxaro's cleverness. She learned her lessons well. I set to unencrypting the file, and microwaving a pizza while my program worked. It was the first food I'd eaten since yesterday at lunch, so it tasted better to me than any microwaved pizza deserved to.
Two hours later, my head had dropped onto the desk when I awoke to an alert. The file was decrypted. I quickly opened it and scanned it. "What? This can't be..." My heart pounded against my ribs, I was so startled and disgusted by what I read. It was even worse than I thought. "I have to help them!"
But what could I do?! I was a single person against an army of black ops specialists. Some of whom I had trained personally. My head swam. I would have to think about this further; I was far too tired to make a clear decision. I dragged myself to bed, pulling off my clothes as I went.
When my alarm went off the next morning, my head pounded. Despite my exhaustion, I had barely slept. I tossed and turned the entire night, thinking of the trainees. I worried especially about Itxaro. She was my star pupil...I could not believe she was only sixteen! What they had put her through...it turned my stomach. No wonder the Director refused to allow me to meet my students.
I must free her. I had to free them all. There must be a way.
I stood under the shower, purposely plunging my head under icy water. I needed to wake up. Once I was shivering, I switched to warm water and quickly scrubbed off. I needed a plan, and fast.
At work, I could barely concentrate. The environment, which was always tense, now felt oppressive. My supposedly elite government job was a sham. In fact, I was contributing to the imprisonment and abuse of minors with Autism Spectrum Disorder, training them with skills that would lead to them becoming indentured servants.
My head jerked involuntarily at the quiet ping.
User1: Did you read it?
User2: Itxaro, I am so very sorry. I had no idea...
User1: I know you didn't. You're the only one that I can trust. Will you help me?
User2: Yes. I have an idea, but I do not know how long it will take to implement it. Will you be safe for a few days longer?
User1: I don't know. I'm worried they're going to move me away and revoke my login access soon.
User2: I promise, I will figure this out. Please contact me when you can.
User1 disconnected.
I stepped out of the building and went to my car, where I pulled out the burner phone that I used for personal communication. I knew they monitored my work phone and personal accounts. Despite my work, I relished my privacy. I saw now the irony in that freedom, while I had a group of enslaved girls right under my nose whose every living moment was controlled by the government.
I scrolled through my contacts, walking further away from the parking lot and into the empty field next door. After a brief hesitation, I made the call. "Jake, my man. How have you been?"
"Jared, I have an issue that needs addressing quickly and discreetly." I briefly discussed the details from the file.
Jared responded with an extensive string of expletives. "I don't even know what to say about this. You hear about these things, but you don't believe they could ever be true. Fuck, man. Do you know what you're asking of me?"
"Jared, please! The idea that I took part in this...it's human trafficking and slavery! And brainwashing, and..." I paused, gulping for air and trying not to vomit. "I have to get these girls out and shut this operation down. I'll give you anything, just help me. Help them."
"Fuck! OK. Send me the file, and give me the coordinates of the site. I'll put my team together."
My chest was tight. "When will you come?"
"It's better that you don't know, so you'll be just as surprised as everyone else. Because if they find out, you're dead. You know that, right?"
"Of course, I do. But I might as well be if I don't do something. Because I cannot live with this knowledge and not take action."
"I get that. Go back to work and try to act normal."
"Please hurry. The trainees are graduating soon, and they will get shipped elsewhere at that point."
"Copy that. You owe me big for this, Jake."
Twenty-two hours later, I was trying--and failing--to get my final evaluations finished when the reverberations from an explosion shook the building and alarms sounded. I felt the impact in my torso and instinctively yanked my desk away from the wall and crouched behind it, pulling out my weapon from its holster. Several seconds later, men in all-black tactical gear burst into the room and started firing. I winced as a bullet whizzed by my face and lodged deep into the wall. I returned fire, aiming without my usual precision to avoid injuring them. After trading some rounds, they backed out and left.
I started to follow, but more men came by, and I had to retreat behind the desk for cover again. I hissed in pain when I got clipped in the torso. Gripping my side to stem the bleeding through my shirt, I leaned against the wall. I really wanted to see if I could find Itxaro, but I didn't know where to go. I felt faint from the freely-bleeding wound.
After what seemed like hours, the gunfire and shouts quieted down and I was left with alarms clanging and my blood in a pool on the floor. I hoisted myself up cautiously, my head spinning as I stood. I heard footsteps down the hall and stepped back, aiming at the door.
"Shadow," the Director said quietly, nodding at me with tense eyes. Guards stood around him, surveying the small room. I lowered my weapon. "I see that you were injured."
"What the hell is going on?" I blurted, still clutching my ribs.
"We had a breach. A team came in and took away our trainees, destroyed the servers, and decimated half of the forces."
"The trainees?" I repeated. "All of them?"
"Yes, well. Unfortunately, some of them were killed during the extrication."
My stomach clenched, and I doubled over in pain, fresh blood trickling from the gunshot. "Take him to medical," the Director ordered.
After I was treated, I received a notification on my work phone that I would be transferred. I was to report to my new office in three days.
I barely ate or slept during that time. I called and texted Jared repeatedly, but he did not respond. My mind was constantly on the girls, and I scoured the web for any trace of their escape. There was none.
After barely moving from my laptop for days, I cleaned myself up as best as I could for my new assignment. It was an analyst position. Boring, but safe. Finally, after a week, I received a brief call from Jared.
"Jared, what the fuck! Where have you been?" I said through clenched teeth.
"Sorry, I had to lay low for a bit and get the rescued ones situated."
Jared told me that 52 underage females had been rescued. They all had similar stories--abducted from or sold by their parents at a young age, and conditioned to believe they had no other choice than to be in this program. They underwent extensive testing and training. And, disgustingly, all deemed appropriate for field duty were surgically sterilized at age 10 so there were no unwanted pregnancies.
I closed my eyes, finally having the courage to ask the question I wanted the answer to the most. "Did you find one called Itxaro? The girl named in the file?"
Jared sighed. "I'm sorry, Jake. There was nobody who gave us that name. Some were killed in the crossfire, and others ran away once we were outside. But she was not in the group that we collected."
"I--I have to go--" I felt nauseous.
"Jake!" Jared's voice caught me before I hung up. "This is not over. Watch your back. No matter how long it takes, these people will not give up until they've removed all evidence of what they did."
For two years, I kept my head down and worked. I spent all of my free time looking for Itxaro, for any of the girls. But they'd hidden well, just as they'd been taught. I could at least be thankful for that.
Then one day, I got a call from Jared. "They're onto me, and I just caught wind that they know of our connection. I'm ditching this phone and going underground. You should do the same. Good luck, brother."
I collected my go-bag and fled.