SNAP: AI Gone Wrong

The Razor's Edge

"Stand down." Mary, leader of Voodoo Team felt a flash of anger wash over her as she heard the words in her earbud from Command. Mary had anger issues. The job somehow steadied her. She could dispense with her anger as she dispensed with the lives of countless people, both innocent and guilty. But as far as she knew, they were all guilty. And that steadied her. So long as the situation went according to plan, which it almost invariably did. But when when it didn't, that was problematic for Mary.

"We can take them both," squawked Mary, now somehow sounding short of breath despite her being perfectly static. "She kills him then offs herself, romantic murder suicide."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. He's CIA. You have no idea what the entire agency might know about why he is there with her. Never mind. I can't even have this discussion with you. There's a reason you are there, and I am here. Just do as I say." The disembodied voice of a man Mary had never met, and never would, tapered off.

"Fuck!"

"Ease up princess," one of her team members chimed in with a reassuring voice.

Every day of the year, Sally Broyhill was sure to be a soon forgotten tragedy. But by some miracle, Bryce Harkshall showed up, right at game time. It was a setback. Twelve hours, maybe twenty four. They were still within the defined time budget.

Mary had bumped into Sally, literally, at a coffee shop the day before, spilling iced coffee all over herself, posing as a clumsy MIT nerd, immediately evoking the textbook responses from an awkward and unsuspecting Sally as she tried to help rectify the disaster. It was an unnecessary ruse but Voodoo left nothing to chance and always did a quick and intensive reconnaissance on their target, commonly having direct contact in order to make the photos in the dossier come to life. Mary was soon inside Sally's flat a block away, having calculated that her clever act would have high odds of precisely such an outcome. As Sally ran a dishcloth under warm water, Mary captured every detail that might help in staging the sad but inevitable end to the story.

Now, as Bryce Harkshall exited Sally's building, the worst case scenario took shape. He was accompanied by Sally. The timetable was now in serious jeopardy. Command relayed the situation to the back office and the encrypted correspondence went out to the unknown but well-paying client. 'Subject is with CIA, deadline may be compromised. Additional measures are available, price will be much higher however.'

With uncanny speed, the response came in. 'Take any measures necessary. Price is at your discretion.'

The Savvy mercenary turned business development manager, Buck, felt giddy. 'Oh yah, baby, hello Porsche.' He made an immediate call to his boss who quickly ran it up his chain of command. Within fifteen minutes the word came down.

'Sub contractor, triple gamma, civilian attire. Eighteen man team, command chopper. Plan 4 hours, deploy 8 hours, deadline 12 hours. $27 million, in advance.' Buck nearly choked on his energy bar as he read through it.

"Holy, .....!" He was temporarily paralyzed, adrenaline trying to trigger immediate action but having nearly the opposite effect. Then he cleared his head. 'The money. What if they say no?' Buck typed hastily. As always, the response seemed to arrive the instant he hit the send key.

'Proceed. Funds have transferred.' Buck was scratching his head when minutes later the gal in finance verified the funds.

"Command. Here's the deal. Pull Voodoo, they're out." Buck went on to quickly outline what was happening. The higher ups had already activated a sub-con. "This is the guy's contact info. Get to it. No time to waste."

Mary was mortified. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She had never failed. There was a sinking feeling about what what this could mean. In reality, she was being overdramatic. Mary had in fact done a great service to the mission through her close contact with Sally, enabling her to plant a tracking device, which was now picked up by the chopper, high above the city.