Tech. Paper

Moscow, Russia 10:30 A.M. In Moscow Aviation Base, Lieutenant Koslov was standing, staring at the dark and thunderous clouds, having just finished the ceremony for the leaving of Baskerville. “These clouds are like sleeping pit-bulls. You’ll never know when they’ll strike,” he thought to himself. “Lieutenant Koslov, sir,” said an unsure voice. Koslov turned around and saw Vasili, a new recruit to the Russian army, wearing a brown shirt and slacks. “The U.S. Commander wishes to speak to you sir,” he said with a nervous tone, pointing to the laptop sitting on the table. Koslov’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, while his mustache twitched to the right. He spun with athletic grace and jogged to the laptop. “The U.S. Commander has never tried to reach me before. He usually sticks with the Russian General. What could be wrong?” Koslov reached the table and sat down, panting with nervous anticipation. Koslov put on his headphones and turned on the monitor. Staring back at him was a very burly old man, with a very stern expression on his face. “Lieutenant Koslov!” said the old man. “My name is Mark Price, and I am the Head General of the U.S. Air Force.” “Yes comrade,” replied Lieutenant Koslov.” Surely you didn’t just call to introduce yourself, did you?” General Price gave him a stare that made Koslov feel 2 feet shorter. “You Russians never learn, do you?” He asked. “ No I didn’t call to introduce myself!” “Then, sir, what is the problem?” Koslov asked. “I was getting to that. At 8:23 A.M. Eastern Time, an F-22 took off from the base you are standing on, correct?” asked Price. Koslov nodded. “So, where exactly is Baskerville and his F-22?” asked Price.” It’s been two days and he hasn’t shown up.” “I..I have no idea, sir” replied an inarticulate Koslov.” Are you sure he hasn’t been on your radar?” “Once again, you never cease to anger me,” replied an irritated general.” If he was..would I call?” said Price, emphasizing every word with a space. “Americans are very strict and impatient. They scare me,” thought Koslov. “My apologies, General Price, but I have just been promoted”. “Idiot! I don’t care! Just find Baskerville,” shouted a very unsympathetic Price. The last coordinates of Price’s location are..” All of the sudden, the screen went blank. “Hahaha! Russians and Americans are so ignorant, they failed to notice that their military had been hacked 30 minutes ago. You now have no communication whatsoever,” said a new voice, echoing across the Russian base.”I won’t allow you to find Baskerville, without several sacrifices. I will tell you the coordinates of that traitorous monster when a sufficient amount of blood has been spilled. The first sacrifice..beginsnow!” Koslov heard a scream and thud. The computer screen refocused. What Koslov saw stilled the very blood in his heart. Price had been stabbed in the chest a number too great to count. His head had been ripped apart by brute force. Blood was still leaking from his neck, drowning all his possessions. His leg was several feet away from his body. Beside his right arm there was a card, a black two of spades.

“Find Baskerville. That is his wish. I shall give him that, and give him peace. Rest well, General Price” Russian BATF 11:30 (Bird Aviation Training Facility) “Sir,” said the Bird Trainer, saluting Koslov. He returned it with a grim nod. If what Koslov was looking for would not work, then nothing would. “where is Thunderwing?” asked Koslov. The Bird Trainer’s eyebrows raised up in surprise. “What could he want with him?” thought the Trainer. “Come with me,” said the Trainer, gesturing with one arm. He led Koslov through many halls filled with pidgeons and falcons, waiting to do work. These birds could not work. Koslov needed fast results, and Thunderwing was just the bird for it. “Here you are sir,” said the Trainer, opening a cage. “This bird never stops to amaze me,” thought Koslov. Thunderwing was a new species, created for speed and durability. He was sleek and fast, like a peregrine, yet sturdy and buff, like an owl. His feathers shined and beamed with a hazel and golden touch in the sunlight. The expression of Thunderwing’s face reminded Koslov of the determination and cheek he had in his youth. Thunderwing was inspiration for Koslov, and that’s why he chose him. “Thunderwing,” said Koslov, stroking the bird’s back. “Remember me? Koslov, your old master? Thunderwing cried out with excitement and rubbed his face against his. Koslov smiled. “I thought so. We’re a team again, old friend, except this time, I’ll have to stay here. You’ll need to fly and complete our mission,” said Koslov, with sadness in his voice. Thunderwing cawed and seemed to nod. “He’s still the same old bird. Age didn’t change him,” he thought. “Alright,” he said, talking to the Trainer. “I’ll take him now. The Trainer nodded. He saluted Koslov and said to Thunderwing, “ I wish you luck.” Thunderwing nibbled his thumb. Koslov started walking out and noticed the clouds. Lightning struck and wind blew. “So, here we go. Will we ever come back to our Russian motherland? Only time will tell. For now, the clouds don’t seem very happy with our decision.” Koslov and Thunderwing got into their Nighthawk and prepared to fly. As Koslov and Thunderwing took off, Koslov thought, “So, the journey begins.” Over the Bering Strait 1:30 P.M. Koslov and Thunderwing are stuffed inside their Nighthawk, looking for any sign of Baskerville, or any signs of the mysterious voice. They weren’t alone. Flying to the right of Koslov were 2 U.S. F-22s and to the left were their very own Russian comrades. “We could never do this alone. I am grateful to all of them,” he thought, as he controlled his jet. He looked to his right. The American was holding up a thumbs-up sign. Koslov sighed. Now was the time. Koslov nodded back to the American. “Thunderwing, it’s time,” he said to the bird. “ You know the procedure, right?” Thunderwing nodded. Koslov smiled and gave the bird one last stroke of his head. “Good luck Thunderwing,” Koslov said. He opened his hatch and let Thunderwing fly. Thunderwing soared down for a couple of seconds, and then he flew back up. Thunderwing had been trained to find the source of voices. The mysterious voice didn’t know that.

Thunderwingcalmed down and let all his energy to his ears and memory. Within a couple of seconds, he had pinpointed the voice’s location. “We were lucky. This place was a random place to start,” Koslov thought. Koslov and the other 4 jets dove down into the cave that Thunderwing had flown into. “Victory at last, huh?” said the American that had given Koslov the thumbs up. Koslov gave a sad smile. “With sufficient blood” Koslov remembered those words of the voice. And what was the 2 of spades about? Koslov and company entered the cave. Who they saw stilled their eyes. The person had yellow, broken teeth. His skin was paler than death, and he had blood on his eyes. In his hand, there was a knife, and in his other hand, a cup of tea. “Hello. My name is Lester,” said the newly identified Lester. “ Nice to meet you. Yes, I am the one who hacked your network, and killed Price…oh, and this bird here. Might actually make a nice soup.” Koslov looked at the ground, and saw Thunderwing’s bloody body splattered across the floor, with his head several feet away. Near his head, there was a card, a black one of spades. Koslov’s eyes popped wide. “No!!!! Thunderwing!” he thought. “ I think I see the connection. He needs one more person dead before he’ll reveal Baskerville…that’s why it was 2 last time..and 1 now!” “Good show!” said Lester. “You figured that out quite nicely!” “He read my mind?!?!” “Of course!” he replied. The American pilot shouted and grabbed Lester by the arm and twisted it until it cracked. “Agh…ok..ok..I won’t gloat..and..no tea either, I guess,” groaned Lester. “You’re under arrest you monster!” “Isn’t that always the case? Can we talk?” The American punched him in the face. “I guess not,” said Lester. U.S. Pentagon The U.S. Secretary of Defense slammed his fist into Lester’s mouth. Two of his yellow teeth popped out, and just fell on the floor. “Fix this hellish problem of yours Lester, or I will kill you myself!” said the secretary. Lester smiled and laughed. “Alright, alright, I will. Just give me time,” smirked Lester. “How long will it take?” asked the secretary. “Oh, about 30 seconds,” Lester said bending down and fixing the dials and digital signal receivers. He fixed the circuit boards in a flash, while adding new transistors and diodes. “All done. Thank you sir, and bye bye,” said Lester. “Ah no. Lester, you’re goin to jail for a long time, buddy. “How long?” “Until I die, which is in like…” “3 seconds…” “Excuse me?” “Agh!” The Secretary fell with a final thud, while Lester fell with a flair. As Lester had his final seconds, he closed his eyes and thought, “Peace. I am content.” A signal analyzer and Koslov walked in and dropped all in their hands. They saw the bloody chest of the U.S. Secretary, with a knife sticking out, and the peaceful smile on Lester’s

dead face. Lester’s fist was open. In his hand there was a card, a black spade. This time, there was no number. Koslov picked it up and turned it over. What he read hardened his expression and made him drop the card. The signal analyzer got concerned and picked up the card, read it, and threw it back on the floor. “I finally have found peace. I am regretful for all who I murdered..But they deserved it…. No one will ever know why I killed until I am dead. Now, I am. Please Let the ones who read this understand why I was who I was. The FBI robbed me of my happiness. They killed my family. So I joined the military..and killed..my only happiness.. I hacked the network to find evidence of my families Murders..and imprison those who killed My family…I was never content.. Mother, Father, Sister…. Forgive Me…. -Baskerville, 1st Pilot Captain…1st Degree Murderer..