The security room was dark and small but well equipped.
Three rows of large screens hung off the back wall, each flickering with feeds from either the facility or within The Sanctuary itself. A soft hum whirred from the AC that kept the tech cool. An occasional beep from notifications or alerts punctuated the sterile atmosphere.
Three operators sat at large individual work stations, three screens on each station. Their eyes darted as they monitored different aspects of the operation. Each monitor rotated through different feeds. A hallway, a common area, a close-up of a restricted zone. The Security A.I. tagged and tracked every movement and interaction, flagging only those that seemed out of the ordinary for human review.
At the back of the room Vincent sat at a raised control station.
His desk was clear of anything and gave him an unrestricted view of the wall and the screens on the operators' desks. His own desktop, a large screen itself, displayed flagged feeds and dashboard data on performance of the platform and facility. Vincent hunched over it, staring at the readouts like a man looking over the edge of a deep well. Arms crossed, head down.
Operator One, a middle-aged man with clear rim glasses and no hair, rubbed the back of his neck. He flicked through a few more feeds, his boredom palpable.
Time for a break.
Suddenly, a red alert flashed on his screen, accompanied by a sharp beep. "Urgent. Action Required!" His focus levels spiked, and his fingers danced over the controls as he selected and opened the flagged stream. His expression shifted from indifference to shock. He leaned back, eyes wide, and muttered, "What the hell..."
"What is it?" Operator Two asked, slowly breaking her focus from her monitor and looking over to him.
"Check it out." Operator One gestured, his voice low and urgent.
Operator Two slid closer, peering at the screen. They watched a loop of large portions of the downtown area of The Sanctuary on fire. The footage cut into closer sequences of Brendon in his quadcopter running pitch battles between the buildings and on the roads towards the harbor area.
Operator One raised an impressed eyebrow, "You ever seen anything like this?" Operator Two shook her head.
Vincent looked up from his desk and then strolled over to observe. His single eye dilated as he watched the carnage unfold on the screen. "Is this live?" he asked, brow furrowing in concentration.
"Not sure," Operator One replied, his fingers danced over the keyboard, searching for the answer.
"This footage is twenty minutes old, Boss," he confirmed, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "It's from downtown near the marina."
Vincent's expression hardened as he crossed his arms. "What about the account? Who is this?"
"Give me a second," said Operator Two as her fingers flew over her keyboard. "It's registered to a Raúl Hernández from Miami," she announced. "It's a top-tier account, created this morning. Paid for with a crypto transfer that hasn't cleared yet."
Vincent frowned, his brow furrowing deeper. "And how many sessions has it had?"
"Only this one," she replied, glancing back at the monitor. "And the session is still running. It's also chewing up a lot of CPU power."
Vincent paced slowly. "A malicious account," he muttered. "The CPU usage is probably from the plugins he's running to mask his activity. Someone's trying to throw us off."
Operator One nodded, still focused on the screen. "If it's a fake, then we need to shut it down before it becomes a bigger problem, right?"
Operator Two hesitated, glancing at Vincent for confirmation. "Should we shut down the account?" she asked.
"Hold on!" Operator Three blurted. "One of our patients is spiking," and then added, "Badly."
Vincent snapped his attention to the monitor displaying a feed from the warehouse, a close-up of Grace's pod. His furrowed brow nearly eating up his eyepatch. He scanned the screens. "Declare a medical emergency and get someone down there now," he barked.
Operator Three tapped a few commands. An alert flashed across the main screen, and within moments, the surveillance cameras showed medical staff scrambling through the sterile corridors. A feed from the warehouse showed a flashing light over the pod in question.
Vincent stepped back from the console, tension beginning to coil in his shoulders. "Bring up the patient's file." He glanced at the screen, his eyes widened. "Hmmm," he muttered, narrowing his gaze.
Vincent's mind raced as he pieced things together. "I don't believe in coincidences," he offered. "Does she have any connection to this?" He was pointing at the screen showing The Sanctuary on fire.
Operator One tapped his keyboard. "Yeah, she is in close proximity to the user," he confirmed.
Vincent's jaw clenched as he processed this. "Can we access the footage from that?"
Operator One's expression turned grim. "No, the footage is still compiling. We can't access it yet."
Vincent's mind whirred, weighing the urgency of the situation against the pressing unknowns. "So we have a patient in distress who might be tied to a potential security breach." He glanced back at the monitor.
"Get me the moment that footage is available," he instructed, determination hardening his voice. "I want to know what's been happening." Operator One nodded.
Operator Two glanced up at Vincent as he was starting to walk away, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "Should we shut down the account?"
Vincent's eyes narrowed as he considered the implications. "No." He paused, as if computing something. "First, try to trace the location of that spoof account."
Operator Two hesitated. "I'll try, but it's probably cloaked. Could take time."
"Just try, Emily," Vincent urged, his voice firm but calm. He turned to Operator One. "Terry, bring up a close-up of this user's face, will you."
Terry nodded. The largest screen on the back wall shifted, and a still zoomed in on the suspect's face, pixelated details sharpened as the image was cleaned up. Vincent walked around the workstations and carefully scrutinized the image, inches from the screen.
"Now," he said, not breaking his gaze, "bring up footage from the foyer around late afternoon yesterday."
Emily quickly brought up the footage, the screen flickering adjacent to the one Vincent was looking at. A loading wheel appeared. "Scrub through these bits, see if you can get a close-up of his face." Vincent pointed to Brendon standing awkwardly in the foyer. He examined the scrubbed footage, eye darting back and forth until it hit the right moment. Vincent raised a finger. "There! Zoom in on his face," he ordered, his focus unwavering. "Put it side by side here."
Emily executed the request, the two faces merged into one split-screen. Vincent studied the images closely, brow furrowing as he compared the angles and expressions. One was a long-haired, bearded mercenary and the other a nervous lab tech with glasses.
A silence enveloped the room.
Everyone waited for the verdict.
After a moment, Vincent straightened up. "It's him," he concluded calmly. "It's him. He's got a beard and longer hair. Looks a bit older, but it's him. Right?" He turned to the room for confirmation. All three operators appeared to agree.
Then Emily cut through the silence. "Oh shit, I've got a location," she announced. Total surprise in her voice. "It was masked, but since it's coming through a cell phone tower, the encryption was weak." She continued tapping. "It seems to be coming from…" Eventually she looked up, aghast. "Only half a click southwest from here. He's in the car park." Vincent semi-sprinted around the workstation and glared over the monitor.
"Get me the feed from the car park," ordered Vincent. The right-hand side of the big screen was overtaken by multiple views of the car park. Vincent moved in close again.
Terry stood up, scanning the lot for anything out of the ordinary. "There!" he pointed. "Behind those bushes." Emily manipulated a small joystick on her workstation and zoomed into the far end of the car park. The screen flickered as the camera boosted its magnification. "It's at the far end of the lot, about the right distance."
Vincent, still looking at the screen, pulled out his phone and dialed a programmed number. "Javier," he said sharply, "who have you got down there?" He paused for the reply. "OK, get them ready to move. Meet me, Terry, and Jason in the garage right now." He hung up and looked back at the room. "You two come with me. Emily, you sit tight and wait for that footage to compile. Monitor what this guy's doing and don't let him exit." Emily nodded in the affirmative and snapped back to her post. The three men exited the security room and ran through the entrance barriers towards the facility's garage.
As they did, Vincent got on his phone again. "Dorian? Hi, yeah, we've got a situation."