“Crashed” — Part 10
“Ken?” Hayes’ voice crackled through the radio. “You there?”
“Ten-four,” Ken replied.
“My team just pulled in,” Hayes said. “I’m not trying to rush you, sir, but do you have an ETD? I’d like to get this sweep underway as soon as possible.”
Ken already knew what the call was about. He kept his voice calm.
“We’re packing the pickup as we speak. We should be rolling out in about fifteen minutes.”
“Copy that,” Hayes replied. “And again, I apologize for the inconvenience. We’ll try to get this done as quickly as humanly possible. But you understand — we don’t know this thing’s intentions. For your safety, and the safety of everyone here, we need to be diligent. I’ll personally contact you when we’re finished.”
There was a brief pause.
“One more thing, Ken,” Hayes added. “Could you drop the radio off with someone at the checkpoint on your way out? I’ll be contacting you by phone once we’re done here. With the radio — well, security, you know.”
“Ten-four,” Ken said.
He slipped the radio into his jacket pocket, then turned to Patty and Cellima. “Piece of cake.”
They loaded the remaining suitcases.
Patty noticed it first — Ken only a moment later.
“Cellima,” she said quietly. “Your cloak… it’s malfunctioning.”
The suit was active, but Cellima wasn’t fully invisible. Her outline shimmered, distorted, as if the air around her couldn’t quite decide what it was looking at.
“I anticipated this,” Cellima replied evenly. “The cloak is composed of hundreds of micro-receptors and projectors. They are powerful, but designed to function without obstruction.”
She glanced down at the clothing.
“The receptors are attempting to gather visual data through the fabric. The image is incomplete, which prevents a precise projection. That distortion is the result.”
Patty’s stomach tightened.
“I will need to remove the clothing in order to cloak correctly,” Cellima continued. “Once we have cleared the checkpoint and are safely away, I can re-dress.”
She spoke with enough confidence that, after a brief look between them, both Ken and Patty nodded.
With the truck fully loaded, they stood for a moment, looking at one another.
“This is it,” Ken said.
“Yes,” Patty replied quietly. “This is it.”
Cellima gave a slight nod.
They climbed into the pickup — Ken and Patty in the cab, Cellima cloaked in the bed.
The engine roared to life. The steady hum was almost soothing as the truck rolled forward, guided by Ken, heading toward the checkpoint set up at the entrance of the property.
They all knew — there was no turning back from here.