Project Aries

The blues, greys and whites of the hotel room matched the view from the window. Clouds were coming in from the south over the harbour and, as expected in Wellington, the wind was picking up. The car ride had been draining for the two, though mainly Jasmine as she had insisted on driving for the majority of the trip, and they only desired an early meal and then their comfortable beds. Instead the three folders awaiting them on the desk had caught their attention and they dragged their feet there instead. Jasmine flipped open the cover of the first blue folder and spotted Fern’s picture, so she handed it over. The second folder was considerably thicker and Jasmine skimmed to the end of it, checking that the details of her last couple of missions supervising Fern were correct.

As Fern opened her own folder, she immediately noticed that her personal details were gone. Any trace of Bailey from Tologa Bay had been deleted, similar to how she had made that part of her disappear. Instead the page provided a summary of the two missions she had so far completed. A label of ‘satisfactory’ accompanied them both so she assumed that she was performing decently and working off her allocated time of allegedly serving the world. Fern set aside the file and turned her attention to the cream coloured folder labelled with the logo of Project Aries and ‘classified’ ever so dauntingly printed across it. She found herself hesitating, a part of her unsure if she was allowed to see its contents, but she soon found the courage to open the A4 sized folder.

“Have you fired a gun before?” Fern asked as Jasmine shifted to read the file alongside her.

“Yes.”

“How about a sniper rifle?” she continued, skimming the paragraph that specified the weapon they would both work with. There were two cases, disguised as business briefcases, in the boot of their car containing unassembled rifles, and it was their job to bring the containers to the roofs of two separate buildings and construct the weapons before Kristopher arrived. Fern doubted that she could remain calm enough to unnoticeably sneak through a building to its roof, but also build and fire a gun she had never handled before.

“Yes,” Jasmine answered and Fern looked up to meet her eyes.

“Was it to kill?” she dared to ask. Jasmine paused as she considered her answer.

“A few times,” she nodded. Fern fell silent and they returned to focusing all of their attention to the neatly printed instructions. After revising what she had learned in high school about Kristopher, as well as attempting to memorise her way though the office building to the roof, Fern was pleased to have reached the end of the orders. She pushed herself off the desk and took a few steps backwards until she met the blue duvet, exhaling and sinking backwards into its cosy embrace.

“How did it feel?” Fern broke the silence as Jasmine sat down at the desk.

“How did what feel?” she mumbled, still trying to read the details about the building she would be infiltrating.

“When you pulled the trigger. How did it feel when you pressed it, and the person in your scope died a second later?” she clarified in a monotonous tone that seemed so numb to Jasmine. She glanced over to the bed and observed the blank expression on Fern’s face and her relaxed limbs, wondering if she was adapting well to the new way of life where it was necessary to shut out the macabre elements.

“It depended on the circumstances.”

“Like what?”

“Like if I truly believed that I was doing good by firing the gun,” Jasmine said and Fern raised her eyebrows, prompting her to continue. “There was one time when I took out henchmen who were going to kill a good woman, I saved her life; that felt right. But… well, there have been times when the situation wasn’t so black and white.”

“I get the feeling that a job like this is hardly ever black and white, hardly ever morally easy,” Fern remarked and Jasmine shrugged.

“It’s actually not that bad. I’ve barely ever questioned a mission because there always seems to be a justifiable outcome.”

“Is that your way of dealing with it all? Searching for a positive meaning in your actions?” Fern guessed. Jasmine’s body stiffened and after a few seconds of hearing no reply, Fern shifted her position on the bed to look at her.

“No,” Jasmine answered and Fern opened her mouth to continue the conversation. “I need to focus on this, otherwise I’ll get lost tomorrow. I can’t imagine Iris accepting that as an excuse for failure.” Her brown eyes concentrated on the cream file again and Fern reluctantly fell silent. Once Jasmine had finished, she called for room service and they shared a silent meal together, Fern opting for a hearty burger while Jasmine selected a dainty garden salad. After the plates had been cleared, they alternated using the bathroom and then climbed into their beds, Jasmine gladly having an early night. Fern, however, struggled to set her mind to ease and sleep. She lay still in the pitch black room with her eyes closed, though they may as well have been wide open in bright light, as she feared what the following day was going to bring for her.

After a sleep full of restless turning, Fern found herself in a bizarre mood. Lack of sleep caused an aura of fatigue, but her worry was bringing on an effect similar to drinking too much caffeine. Every sense was on edge, and yet she couldn’t focus. She produced a disgruntled sigh before spooning more cereal into her mouth as Jasmine came to join her with an apple. Jasmine was already dressed in her so-called disguise, a dark grey pantsuit that looked sleek and well-fitted, yet was loose enough for Jasmine to easily manoeuvre in if needed.

“You okay?” she asked with more duty than concern.

“Well, not really. I’m not exactly used to using my microchip,” Fern replied before her frown worsened. “But that’s not the biggest thing. I just don’t know how I’m going to lie to get access to the building? And what if I get caught on the roof? There are so many possibilities racing around my head of what might go wrong and every time I panic more and more because I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s all in your head,” Jasmine commented before taking another crunchy bite of her apple.

“I know, it’s just difficult to believe in that right now. I’ve only ever used it to hack a computer; what if I can’t do anything else?” Fern exclaimed, her face pleading Jasmine for aid and reassurance. Instead, Jasmine laughed.

“No, I meant your doubt is in your head… It’s not real,” she clarified and Fern’s creased forehead relaxed a little. “Iris knows exactly what’s in your programming so she knows what you are capable of. She wouldn’t send you on an impossible mission. Have some faith in yourself.” Fern lowered her gaze and stirred her cereal mindlessly.

“I just wish some more time had passed, that I already had that trust in the microchip,” she murmured.

“Hey, it’ll come pretty quickly. Before you know it, it’ll just be second nature, and then when you reflect on the moment you might even find it a bit scary how easy you found it,” Jasmine offered with half a smile. Fern returned the smile unconvincingly before forcing herself to consume her breakfast despite her lack of appetite. Once she was finished, Fern changed into her own business suit, the pants and jacket black and the undershirt white, and swept her hair into a bun. Jasmine followed suit with extra hairspray, reasoning that she wanted no hair hindering her ability to focus on the windy rooftop. As the clocks ticked closer to nine, they left the hotel and parked their car one block from the Beehive. Jasmine passed Fern an earpiece so minuscule that she ended up providing directions on how to slip it into her ear to ensure it would function properly, and they quickly checked the devices worked before exiting the car. They grabbed a briefcase each and after holding each other’s gaze for a short second, they parted ways.

Fern strode with purpose down the sidewalk, gaining some confidence from her outfit and the knowledge of her earpiece and gun. She did her best to remain collected and inhaled as slow as possible in attempt to calm her remaining nerves. As she walked through the sliding doors she suddenly hesitated, a flood of doubt washing over her as she acknowledged that she wasn’t prepared for lying her way past the building’s minimal security. Fern regained her composure by repeating what Jasmine had said earlier, that her doubt was imaginary, and she marched up to the beaming receptionist.

“Hi, how can I help?” the petite middle-aged woman asked, so cheery and oblivious to what Fern was about to do.

“Hi, I’m here to take a look at the building’s servers. I’m from the Lemon Penguin Company, the computer section. Someone called us earlier today about an electronic form not being processed correctly,” Fern explained. Her voice wavered throughout her rehearsed sentences, but she was convincing enough as the receptionist grinned with recognition.

“Oh, fantastic! Do you have a form of ID on you?”

“Yes, of course,” Fern smiled. She then reached into her pocket and withdrew an employee ID card that Project Aries had provided for her. It had been crafted well, the quality of the print and plastic both high, allowing for a convincing piece of evidence that she was a professional worker and not a secret agent. The only slight giveaway to Fern that her ID may be false was the fact that the company’s name was Lemon Penguin and their logo was a yellow penguin outline that she almost regarded as a cartoon. After a quick glance over the card, the receptionist deemed Fern to be authorised and held up a finger.

“Just one moment, I’ll call Julius down for you. He’s the general manager,” she said as she picked up the phone and dialled. Fern nodded and stepped away from the desk, turning her back and looking outside the wide windows at the people walking past. Everyone seemed so unaware that anything even remotely bad was so close to them, that there was danger just behind a wall, that a gun was about to be used, that there was another agent infiltrating another building prepared to do the same task. She had been like that a mere few days ago, ignorant towards any form of corruption within her seemingly peaceful world.

“Fern, is it?” a voice boomed from behind her and she turned and plastered a grin across her lips.

“Yes. Julius?” she replied and the grey-haired man wobbled over to shake her hand.

“A pleasure. Please, come to the basement where the servers are. We can’t have this issue pester us any longer!” Julius encouraged as he directed her towards the elevator while straightening his bold red tie. Though the elevator ride was awkward, it was at least short, and Fern soon found herself in what appeared to be a storage room as well as the server room. A sole computer rested near the elevator and Julius gestured towards it. “That should be all you need to work your magic! The username is admin04 and the password is basement.”

“Okay, I’ll get started and hopefully I’ll find the problem,” Fern said as she set her briefcase on the floor next to the desk. “Is there any more information I should have, aside from what was given over the phone?” Julius paused and then shrugged.

“I personally think one of the interns bumped a cord out or something down here when they were shifting old files around,” he muttered before chuckling to himself.

“I’ll have a look around, then,” Fern reassured him as she wondered when he was going to leave so she could get into position on the roof.

“If you need anything I’ll be on the third floor, or just ask Susan at reception. She should be able to help you with pretty much everything,” Julius offered and Fern once again nodded. She took a seat in the computer chair and pressed the power button, keeping her eyes on the screen as it lit up. Behind her, there was shuffling and then a ding of the elevator, and once the doors had slid closed she checked behind her to see that Julius had finally left. Her stomach began to jitter as she waited for the computer to log in, and she plugged in the USB that had been provided for her. Not only did it contain data for her to load programmes on the computer to make it seem as though she was working, but it also held the solution to the virus that Iris had sent the company early in the morning, and hence prompting their call for help that was conveniently diverted to Iris. Once everything was in place, Fern placed a sweaty hand on the handle of her case and stood. She began jogging up the stairwell to avoid being noticed, but soon found it easier to walk with her heavy briefcase so she slowed down. Five flights of stairs later and Fern kicked open the roof access door to be met with a gust of wind.

“I’m on the roof,” she said as she pressed a finger to her ear, activating the earpiece to transmit her words to Jasmine. There was no reply so Fern crossed to the east side and easily spotted the Beehive and the small crowd gathered outside its front doors. She crouched and opened the case, a part of her surprised to actually find a disassembled sniper rifle in it.

“Copy that. I have access to the roof now. I’ll start setting up,” Jasmine’s voice came through the earpiece and Fern smiled with relief that she had also been able to successfully navigate her building.

“Copy,” Fern replied before resting her damp, trembling palms atop the tightly packed gun. Nothing seemed even vaguely familiar to her, but she had to find the strength to grasp the pre-existing knowledge and utilise it. Her breathing had quickened and she began breathing through her mouth. One breath, two breath, and Fern closed her eyes. As she inhaled the third time she mentally told herself that she was capable of assembling the rifle and she willed her hands to go through the motions and accomplish her goal. She was about to give up from fear of it not working when her right hand latched onto a segment of cold metal, so Fern kept her eyes squeezed shut and allowed the microchip to take over and construct her weapon. When her brown eyes reopened, Fern was uncertain of how much time had passed, but lying before her a sniper rifle, ready to use. She gulped and removed the stand from the box, setting it up to rest near the edge of the rooftop and positioning the gun down towards the Beehive, partly relying on the microchip’s information to position it optimally.

“I’m in position,” Jasmine informed her.

“Ditto,” Fern said as she lied down behind the rifle, looking in the scope and spotting the security guards on the ground where they were practically useless.

“T-Minus ten minutes, assuming they are on schedule.”

“Copy that.” Fern used the spare time to use her zoom to inspect the scene below, checking the areas where civilians were restrained to, the areas that the guards were patrolling, and where a clearing had been made for what she assumed was Kristopher’s car to arrive. Though she had never fired a gun before, Fern used logic to decide where she was going to aim her limited shots to reduce the chance she would injure anyone on accident.

“Incoming,” Jasmine’s voice crackled over the connection and Fern shifted her sights to her right to see the black car coming to a stop. A beefy man exited the car first, wearing a black suit and tie with a handgun secured to his belt, and he opened the door while pressing his other hand to his ear and talking. Kristopher then stepped out, his shoulder length ice blonde hair and pale skin easily distinguishing him from the other men. Fern watched the crinkles around Kristopher’s mouth and eyes move as he smiled, waiting to hear from Jasmine when the right moment to fire was. The man appeared pleasant and kind as he briefly talked to his security and she wondered why he felt it was absolutely necessary to stage this act instead of simply winning over people with his oozing charm.

“When do we shoot?” Fern questioned as Kristopher walked towards the group of politicians and environmentalists that awaited him near the entrance of the Beehive.

“I dare you to shoot his cup of coffee,” Jasmine suggested and Fern’s jaw dropped at the playful tone Jasmine had used. She shifted her scope lower, focusing on the polystyrene cup in the foreigner’s hands.

“You will be a better shot than me,” she pointed out, doubting that she could hit such a small target as the man walked.

“Don’t you think it would be a good way to prove to yourself that you can do anything?” Jasmine countered and Fern was unable to form a response. Her eyes narrowed and she cleared her mind in attempt to allow herself to access the information that was miraculously stored in her mind. She put faith in herself, believing that she could do it if she tried. As she inhaled, time seemed to slow down. Fern nudged the rifle to the left, its aim before the moving cup and also accounting for the wind speed and direction, and then pressed the trigger. A second later and the cup exploded. Coffee splashed in every direction, bursting from the spinning cup as it tumbled to the ground. Kristopher was shocked, stunned into a stationary stance as was everyone else as they processed what had just happened. Fern heard another shot being fired and saw a tile smash in the corner of her scope, and she assumed that that was Jasmine’s bullet. The guards snapped into motion, some withdrawing their guns and scanning the surrounding area and others ushering the important men and women inside for safety. Fern fired once more, this time missing Kristopher’s back by a short distance and sending shattering pieces of stone flying into the air. She heard Jasmine shoot another bullet but failed to see its damage, and suddenly everyone was under the safety of a roof, rendering them unable to continue the charade.

“Are we clear to head out?” Fern asked, double-checking through her scope that none of the guards had realised their locations yet. They were only just beginning to divert their attention skywards as they had finished scanning the ground for enemies.

“Yeah, there’s nothing else we can do now. Pack up and get out of the building as soon as possible,” Jasmine commanded and Fern pushed herself away from the edge of the building.

“Copy that,” she said with a trace of a grin before gripping onto the rifle and disassembling it. Once the gun was packed neatly back into its case, Fern snapped the locks shut and stood, entering the stairwell and leaping down the steps as quickly as she could without making too much noise. She swung around the last corner and slowly pressed the door open, stealing a peep inside. Her stomach fell when she saw Julius waiting in there, a frown across his face as he rubbed his hands together and looked around the empty room. Fern was about to back away when he caught a glimpse of her, so she continued to push the door open and stepped inside, her gut telling her that it would be far worse if she took off running instead of confronting her client.

“Where have you been? We heard guns being fired from somewhere nearby!” he exclaimed and Fern hesitated, scared about what she should reply with. She replaced her shocked expression with a more relaxed one and took in a deep breath, begging her microchip to provide her with a calm and appropriate response.

“I needed to use the bathroom, and then the guns went off and I panicked,” Fern answered, hoping that her fake concern would be convincing enough for Julius.

“Why take the stairs?” he questioned and Fern sheepishly smiled.

“It was an emergency. Everyone knows not to use elevators in an emergency,” she offered as an answer and Julius visibly lost tension.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he commented before gesturing towards the computer. “How is your work going?” Fern crossed the room and sat at the desk, glad to see that the computer was chugging through meaningless code as a distraction.

“Fine. Just running a diagnostic test that should give me an answer soon,” she replied before looking up at the man. “Do we need to evacuate? Or do we continue as per normal?” Her voice trembled a little, her nerves showing from firing the weapon and now having to remove the virus.

“I’ll check with reception, though I think we are fine for now. As far as I am aware, nothing has happened inside the building,” Julius answered her and Fern resisted the urge to smile at the statement that nothing had occurred inside. She nodded and he turned, taking the elevator upstairs and leaving her alone. Aware that she wouldn’t have much time, Fern closed the diversion programme and started running the one designed to remove all traces of the virus from the business’ servers. It worked more efficiently than she had predicted, and after what felt like a few seconds she was ejecting the USB and packing her things away. Fern shut the computer down and stood, waiting for Julius to return as she mindlessly stared at the back of one of the servers. Once the elevator dinged, she raised her hand to the nearest plug and pretended to readjust it.

“You were right, Julius. This had been knocked out of place. Nothing serious at all,” she beamed and he sighed with disappointment.

“Interns these days… They’re so careless!” he remarked as Fern joined him at the elevator. Once back on the ground floor, Julius left her side to approach the receptionist. “Do I need to take care of payment now?”

“Oh no, an invoice will be sent at the end of the month. I need to file a report on what was wrong and you will be charged accordingly,” Fern casually dismissed the question and Julius nodded.

“Thanks, Fern. Have a nice day,” he said and she grinned at him.

“You too!” she called out before turning her back and power walking out the door. She glanced to her left and saw scared pedestrians scurrying down the street towards her, so Fern spun on her heel and walked back to the car where she was supposed to meet Jasmine. When she arrived, almost breathless from anxiety, Jasmine was nowhere to be seen. Fern ran a hand across her tense forehead as she realised that Jasmine had taken the only key. She scanned the crowd but failed to spot the golden hair and fear sunk in as she failed to think of a backup plan for if Jasmine didn’t return.

“You did well, don’t look so nervous,” a voice said from Fern’s right and she jumped, surprised by Jasmine’s sudden return.

“I was worried about you!” she squeaked as Jasmine popped the boot open.

“Me? Why?” Jasmine chuckled, stashing her briefcase with her sniper rifle into the car.

“You weren’t here, I didn’t know what to do,” Fern pointed out before tossing her case in. She pushed the boot closed and they climbed into the car, Jasmine flicking the engine on and pulling out of the park to head away from the scene as police arrived and secured the area.

“We should probably talk about what happens if something goes wrong,” Jasmine commented.

“You think?” Fern snorted as she scratched her head, the tight bun starting to tug and irritate her scalp. “I got caught reentering the basement! I almost crapped myself! It was terrifying!” Jasmine laughed after taking a look at Fern’s genuine expression of apprehension.

“It was the worst part of the mission, wasn’t it?” she guessed and Fern nodded.

“That and wondering where the hell you were,” she admitted. A few seconds later and her own words sunk in, greatly surprising her that firing a gun for the first time, and purposefully missing the man in her scope, wasn’t the most thrilling or frightening part of her day. “So are there rules or plans for what happens if something goes wrong?”

“Of course. Obviously some missions are of much higher risk than the one we just did, so those are the ones that have specifics outlined in the files,” Jasmine began and Fern gulped, wondering what intense missions she might possibly be given in the future. “For this one, the risk was incredibly low that we would be exposed, so Iris didn’t give us a plan.”

“What would have happened if I hadn’t been able to lie in there? What if I was detained by their security and they looked inside my briefcase?” Fern asked, her pace quickening as she recalled how petrifying it was when Julius had questioned her about why she had left.

“I would have come in and busted you out,” Jasmine shrugged.

“How?”

“I would have assumed the identity of an undercover agent and taken you into my custody. That excuse is almost always guaranteed to work,” she answered and Fern raised her eyebrows.

“You’ve done that before?” she guessed.

“Yeah, and people quickly give in to someone who is confident and projecting their authority in the situation,” Jasmine said as Fern glanced out the window at a good-looking passerby.

“I’ll have to learn to act like that in case I need to rescue you from a situation,” Fern remarked and the two exchanged a glance before Jasmine burst into laughter. Fern smiled, glad to see her exhibiting a softer side.

“That’ll never happen,” Jasmine dismissed and Fern shrugged.

“No, of course not,” she agreed nonchalantly. The pair fell quiet and Fern continued to gaze outside as Jasmine drove them to the harbour to board the Interislander ferry. She couldn’t help but wonder how Kristopher was now that the plan had been executed. She hoped it was worth it for him, but a part of her didn’t mind either way. Her senses were still tingling from adrenaline, and Fern kind of liked it.