King of All I Survey
Chapter 143: Transferring our CIA Captives

Chapter 143: Transferring our CIA Captives

As I ate, I watched the transfer of the two corrupt CIA agents we had agreed to turn over to the agents working out of the US Embassy in Guatemala. Joe used a LITV to transfer a white van to a parking garage in Guatemala City. There would, of course, be no record of it ever entering the garage, because it had just appeared there, out of sight of any surveillance cameras. We transferred the prisoners from our Blue Island location to the back of the van, along with four of our paramilitary guards in addition to the driver.

From there, the van drove straight to the embassy. The gate opened as it arrived. In addition to the normal guard posted at the gatehouse, four uniformed US Marine guards waited inside. One motioned the van to continue along the driveway and pull up to the main building entrance. Because of the curve built into the driveway, this meant that it was out of view of anyone who might be watching from outside the gate. The marines had kept pace with the van and stood ready.

I watched views from several angles since we had three drones inside the embassy yard. We had adopted the viewscreen protocol of including red arrows overlaid on the viewscreen to indicate people who had firearms. Only two of the Marines were armed with hip-holstered side-arms. Jorge Maldonado and Raul Vargas, two men we knew to be CIA operatives, waited outside the building entrance, also unarmed. As the van pulled up, the Marines moved closer. Maldonado approached the driver’s door of the van.

Our driver rolled down the window, "We have the two prisoners ready to be transferred," he said, in his native Guatemalan Spanish. "I have four guards in the back with them, all unarmed. The prisoners are hand-cuffed for your convenience. We’ll let you open the doors whenever you’re ready."

Maldonado nodded, then gave a hand signal to the Marines. Three of them moved to the back of the van. One of the two that were armed stayed toward the front left of the van. His eyes on the front windshield.

Vargas moved around back with the Marines. He nodded to Maldonado.

"OK, open it up," he called out then took a step back. One of the unarmed

The rear cargo doors opened. The inside of the van had a row of plain benches on either side facing each other. On one side two of our guards were seated. Across from them two prisoners sat with two more of our men seated between them. Our men wore gray overalls. Clearly, they were uniforms, but they could be common jumpsuit of an auto mechanic, or any other tradesman. No insignia or identification adorned the uniforms. One guard climbed out of the back and reached back to take a prisoner by the arm, leading him out. "Watch your head," the guard instructed the prisoner as he ducked to climb out. Once out of the van, our man led him about ten feet away from the van, then released his grip, standing ready and alert.

Our second guard repeated the procedure with the remaining prisoner.

The two saw the Marine uniforms and Raul Vargas, and smirked, exchanging nods and glances with each other. "It’s good to be back on American soil," one of them said aloud, looking toward the Marines with a broad smile. "It certainly took the boys in Washington long enough to get us out."

Jorge Maldonado, who had remained unseen by the prisoners until this point, stepped forward. "There were some complications," he said, his voice was cold and hinted at his personal animosity toward the two.

The prisoners looked around and saw Maldonado. Their expressions changed immediately when they saw him. Surprise, anger, fear, then clam and a mask of pleasantness washed over them in turns. The one who had greeted the Marines spoke again, "Angel Diaz! I heard you had some trouble with the local police in Colombia. I’m glad to see the suits got you out, too." He smiled as if greeting an old friend. These guys were pretty good, I thought to myself. If I didn’t know the story behind that greeting, I would have thought it was genuine. Even his smile had no hint of insincerity. To all appearances, after the brief moment of confusion, he was truly happy to see Maldonado.

"Actually, it wasn’t the main office that got me out. It seems they had a report from the two of you saying I had flipped and was working for the cartels. The same report recommended that I be left in prison under the authority of the Colombian government as a common drug-trafficker. My own report about the two of you, on the other hand, seemed to have been buried under an eyes-only classification by your boss back in The States." Maldonado’s voice maintained its flat, emotionless tone that somehow seemed to convey a dark, malevolent threat.

The prisoner’s eyes flared for a brief second, then his face went blank and still. "Our sources told us you were taking cash on the side, tipping off your gang of raids. We just reported what our sources told us, standard protocol. Nothing personal. I’m glad you were vindicated," he brought his smile back to support the statement.

"I’m sure you are," Maldonado replied.

"How about getting us out of these cuffs?"

Maldonado smiled now, "of course." He motioned to our guards, "if you wouldn’t mind, please."

Each of our two men who had exited the van with the prisoners, stepped behind them and drew keys from an inside chest pocket of their overalls. They unlocked and removed the cuffs as two unarmed Marines stepped forward. The two prisoners’ smiles faded as the Marines took handcuffs from their belts and forcefully pulled their arms back around behind them. They snapped the cuffs in place and took a firm grip around each prisoner’s upper arm.

Maldonado looked each man in the eye with a look full of evil portent for their futures. "Take them inside," he told the Marines.

The Marines yanked the prisoners’ arms guiding them toward the embassy door. Raul Vargas and one of the armed Marines followed behind them.

Maldonado remained beside the van. "Thank you for your assistance, gentlemen. Please also convey my thanks to whoever is running the show on your end. You have no idea how happy I am to have recovered my two dear colleagues safely." His smile spoke of abiding anger as he spoke. I made a mental note to add a ’dangerous when provoked’ flag to this man’s file.

"The sergeant will escort you back to the gate," he said, nodding to the one Marine who remained in the yard. Our driver nodded, "Thank you." He waited for our two guards to climb back into the van, closing the doors behind them. He followed the Marine sergeant to the front gate which opened as they approached. The van drove through. The gate closed silently behind them.

I watched the view from inside the embassy as one of our invisible drones followed the prisoners down a hallway. They would be immediately interrogated or ’debriefed,’ I knew. The questions guided by the evidence we had provided of corruption on their part and by a dedicated mission team back in the United States. Most of which was corroborated by files and information already possessed by the CIA but buried and hidden by the senior ranking bureaucrat of their group. I presumed the questioning would be conducted in a civil manner. I didn’t bother to watch. I knew the facts of the matter already. Joe would make sure I knew the final outcome of the anti-corruption effort we had initiated to make sure that the good guys prevailed.

"Well, that was interesting," I said. "Any update on the meeting with Arroyo?"

"They were able to fit us in at 12:30. You’ve got 42 minutes before we’re supposed to be there," Joe replied.

"Great. Leave my real body here in the adaptive chair and switch me over to my adult form." The world changed suddenly. I was no longer in the Status Room watching the viewscreens, but was suddenly in Sickbay, in a room we had designated for the storage and maintenance of our humanoid androids. They were primarily machines, but did have some biological parts, like skin that required nutritional supplementation, although not very much. Joe, with his infinite capacity for processing and multi-tasking had gone so far as to match the DNA of adult android’s biologics to my own. Even its fingerprints were an age-progressed version of my own. When my biological age caught up to that of the android, we’d pass for each other on any form of ID test used on Earth.

The mechanical parts of the androids, on the other hand, were real marvels. Not only did they mimic all the standard behaviors and movements of humans, but they had enhanced strength that could be dialed up from normal to 18 times normal strength at will by the operator. They had built in shield field generators and internal dark-energy generators. The fields could be adjusted to absorb and re-emit various types of radiation. By absorbing and re-emitting light for example, they could become completely invisible to any optics. Similarly, they could absorb x-rays and emit signals that could fool any x-ray machine into seeing a normal human being, bones, organs and all. Interdimensional communication links and Local Interdimensional Transport capabilities were also built-in. One of my favorite additions was the ability of the field generators to interact with space-time and gravity directly. While in an android body, I could fly by force of will. The biological outer layers meant that we could choose to be injured and bleed like a regular human, if we wanted to hide our capabilities. Of course, the shields could protect us from anything short of a nuclear blast, or a very few high-tech, high velocity, high-mass projectiles that could concentrate huge amounts of force in a small surface area.

The adult form of my own body, created by Joe through his age-progression processing, gave me all of these abilities and more. Joe, assuming the android body we had designated as Maribel’s father, prepared to accompany to the Guatemalan Presidential Palace to meet with President Arroyo. Our goal was to get him to agree to make Guatemala the first member of our global Earth governing organization, the Universal Earth Concord.

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