Leaving them with the specifications and a couple of samples, we returned to the workshop.
Senior remarked as we drove through the short term gate. “I should have a new order as soon as the investigators put in a report. I could tell by the look in their eye. The reports are coming through on the danger of the ‘Taser’ shocks are embarrassing.”
“The Federal Police are the last holdouts in Australia, most of the others have had them in service for a year or so, with no complaints to date.”
“Of course apart from Canberra there is little domestic policing they do, but I am sure they will soon work out that close work at say the airports will be safer.
The real value is even if you accidentally ping an innocent, they aren’t harmed and probably won’t complain too much.
Having a hostage in front is no protection as both are harmlessly put to sleep; the only protection is from the dye.”
Back to the routine for a couple of weeks then I was called in by Senior to the weapons room. “Come with me, put on the Fearnaught suit and step into the gateway room.”
Having done so, I caught up with him as he stopped in front of the computers.
“Now, check this out,” Senior said.
On the monitor was a scene with several armed men looking nervously out of windows and doors, outside there were a dozen police cars with heads peering over them. To one side there were also some office people sitting against the wall looking terrified.
“What is happening is a hostage situation in a bank, which had just come over the news, so I came in here and zeroed into the area.”
“Here is what I intend to do, the five of us are going to zip in there in ‘cam mode’, interpose ourselves between the gunmen and the hostages. Then take out the criminals.”
“Sounds good, eh? We will have a couple of dry runs then go for it. By the time they realise what’s happening, they will be trussed up, and we will be gone.”
So we lined up, then walked about ten paces stopped, turned and trained the sleep guns ahead. With the injunction to stay less than a meter apart, this allows the fields to overlap and protect the hostages in case someone pulled a trigger.
We went through a couple of times and felt we could do this in our sleep.
Lining up for the real thing we trooped in, left turn and stunned the bad guys; these went down like the proverbial bags of manure.
The team stepped up to the fallen men; the guns were removed from the suspects, handcuffs applied; while the poor hostages were looking on in amazement as shadows moved around their erstwhile captors.
Senior uncammed long enough to reassure them that the danger was now over and they were to call the police outside that all was clear. I don’t know if someone suddenly appearing in a spaceman’s outfit then disappearing via an invisible door would be that reassuring, but they had been already facing quite a scary situation.
“Lapsed time two minutes, mission accomplished,” Senior announced.
“Wow, that was fun.” We exclaimed with one voice.
“I will have to see if we can organise something then,” Senior suggested helpfully.
We agreed if somewhat less enthusiastically, as we could imagine that this may involve sweating or at least hard work.
It didn’t seem long before his threat was carried out, this time it was a terrorist group that had been located in a cave system in the rugged border area between Pakistan and Afghanistan. Spread out around a campfire in a spacious cavern; they were apparently having a quiet get-together to catch up on what was happening in the world.
The scenario was that we would line up as before, nail them and with the help of a few extra helpers to deliver them to authorities. The cost of the exercise covered by the reward offered for their capture.
The time had arrived, and the team had been through the rehearsals with no hiccups, we gathered at the gateway.
However as ‘the best laid plans of mice and men affen gang astray’ (to quote Robbie Burns). As soon our group arrayed in line at the scene, the terrorists being paranoid, started firing wildly.
Well, that certainly tested the shields thoroughly, and while the baddies were dropped, it was not without a scare. The only causalities were a couple of the suspects wounded by ricochets from their weapons.
The backup team had the necessary first aid kits, so all it did was throw the timing out in evacuating the now peaceful sleepers for delivery.
Some of the team looked like they might need a change of undies. Well since there is a learning curve; this just showed where we were on it.
In retrospect, without the kinetic shields, it would have been very messy and probably a failure, no be honest, a disaster.
So next step after the delivery of the parcel to the FBI, making sure that we received the proper credit, was the debrief session.
“Well did anyone catch where it hit the fan?” asked Senior.
“I think as we paraded across in front, I suppose there were a couple of us dragging their feet,” Rodger volunteered, “That could have made a noise that they thought came from outside or perhaps a shadow.”
“Next question, what can we do next time to avoid that?” Senior asked.
“I suppose that we could spray the area first, and then follow up with the mop up,” I said as a suggestion.
“That should do it; we will have a practice tomorrow and get it down fine. Then we go hunting for another task. After a few, I will step back and let you young fellas have the fun to yourselves,” Senior said.
So we practised the revised technique several times over the next week between our normal activities. I must say my fitness level certainly was improving as usually without some incentive my idea of a good time was sitting for a few hours reading or perhaps a gentle walk on the beach.
Then I received a call from Senior to come to his office, as I walked in expecting another assignment, however instead with a smile was asked. “How you would like a home visit?
I suppose so, and he went on to tell me that since there was a bit of slack time, now was as good a time as any to set up the trust.
“Meet me back here in a half hour with your old bag,” Senior said as an instruction.
I stepped through the gateway to collect my stuff, tidying my room before I left, wondering if I would be returning. Arriving back at the office; I found that very little time had passed.
Senior laughed at this, “A bit keen to be going home, Eh? Well, you will be there about a week or so, and the reason is that #457, your stand-in, is in need of a service.”
“Okay, wouldn’t want to miss out on the fun back here for too long,” I replied.
“I have already organised #457 to meet up with your Morrie; we will arrive in mine and swap over. Next, I will take #457 over to Silvertoe; then return and stay at a hotel close by.”
Down to the garage, Senior took the driver’s seat saying “Can’t get you too used to this one if you have to drive the old one. Now don’t complain, when you go home permanently you will have the one that you are modifying up to warm standard, right?”
After a short drive around to the small gateway, Senior directed me to type in the code for my homeworld. When we drove out the other side on a small parking area off the road, there