Dry Ice: In The Winds of Flame

Delicious Vodka DeBlair

March 03, 2010

It had been a while since the Pentagon Records incident, but still it seemed
that the enemy had been far too entrenched to truly root out, and much like the Al Quaida of
the earlier decades of the millennium, the Agents of the Fall seemed to have centuries old
goals which were patient to wait as long as it took to find the perfect opportunity.

In the mean time, Russia and the United States had gone from tense and tolerant to a
virtual single nation. What with the creation of the *Dmitri Mendev International Tunnel, the 65
mile long tunnel between Russia and Alaska, and the subsequent elimination of visa
requirements for citizens of either nations to cross these borders, the world seemed quite
ready to be finally at peace, and despite a few small dictators and the occasional complaint of
ecologists because of this new oil and natural gas energy supply for the United States, few
people ever had anything bad to say.

Still, those who worked evil had their own agendas...

New orders had come down, as one Professor Vladimir Chernobrov had given up his
dreams of making a time machine and with the help of a beautiful Russian assistant,
developed a whole new type of atomic power in the form of a power plant considered
impossible not long before, being only the size of a small basket, producing over 1000Kw of
power in the form of thermo-mechanical power.

This small atomic engine would utterly revolutionize the entire world. With an estimated
single charge life span of 30 years under continuous usage, this was the ultimate power
source: strong, light weight and virtually inexhaustible. It was the perfect solution to a world
dependent on oil for transportation.

And nowhere on earth would such an engine make a greater impact than in the realm of
warfare. No matter how powerful and technologically advanced a weapon is, it still relies upon
oil. Oil is in short supply and in high demand in the world these days, not even because it is
not in the earth, but because of so many laws regulating its production which make it so costly
to produce many have been forced to quit or raise their prices so high that to back a war
would be impossible for even many of the wealthiest nations.

And here, even now, as America was sucking the life out of the barren wastelands of
Siberia in the name of personal convenience and profit, there was clearly a telling need for
new means to move people and generate energy.

This new engine would truly revolutionize the world. However, those who saw it only for a
weapon had learned of it and were determined to have it for their own.

So, at a world trade show, in Munich, Germany, where technology had been presented as
both redemption and salvation of mankind, the Agents of the Fall saw their perfect chance to
strike.

The professor, his assistant, and a car powered by this engine were all kidnapped
immediately following the showing, and nobody knew where they had gone.

At the John F. Kennedy Airport, a large, elderly gentleman was struggling through the
security gate.

With pale, liver spotted skin, watery eyes, a wheezing gaspy breath, shaky gait and
sufficient obesity as to prohibit his passing through the metal detectors, and above all, pulling
along a portable oxygen cart, this promised to be a trying passenger to say the least.

To top off all of this, the man spoke only Russian, and his small worrisome wife was doing
little to help the situation fussing at him and fussing at the terminal agents just trying to do
their jobs.

In her broken English she tried to explain the situation and translate, but it was not until a
tall, slender blond attendant came over and addressed the couple in fluent Russian that
things began working smoothly.

In a few more minutes, the elderly couple were escorted to Moscow flight 277 and safely
seated in the rearward section of the lowest level of the plane, away from the more sensitive
passengers, who might be upset or in any manner disturbed by the hulkingly obese Russian
who smelled of Vick's Vapo-rub and ozone, and who appeared to snore even whole awake.

For many who could, it was permitted to move to upper and forward cabins, which left this
compartment virtually vacant, save the couple, the air marshal and some adventurers who
were off to go climb Mt. Everest and were only transferring flights in Moscow.

"Yes," an irritated but respectful reply came, "Yes, and I know this too sir..." An undisguised
sigh came after that. A somewhat thinned, nervous looking man, in a general's uniform was
on the phone in clear distress. Things had suddenly erupted and something very bad was
happening...again. This time however, possibly much worse.

"I too am worried sir, most certainly."

"Truly, I do not know anything more than you do at this time sir.
"Yes sir, I will do that sir.
"As soon as I learn more, I will immediately inform you of what I know.
You too sir, and good night sir."
 "What seems to be the problem sir?" Came a query from a young lieutenant in an easy
chair nearby

"It seems our agent has disappeared off the screen, and that could mean a worst case
scenario."

"Do you think Dry Ice possibly just shut off her com to prevent detection?"

"Its really hard to say at this point, but I think we should get some people in there to find
out."

"Yes sir," the lieutenant responded, but before he could make any suggestions, the general
beat him to the punch.

"I want you to head up this operation lieutenant, you know the system better than most
people who worked with it and you have some kind of connection others seem to fail to
establish, so maybe you can find out what is going on faster than others might."

Relieved, lieutenant Steven Wilder responded, "That was my very thought, sir." as he
sprung up, snapped a salute and left the general's office.

The obviously time worn general Mitchell Brookham frowned, grabbed his coffee mug in
one hand and the phone receiver with the other...

Leaping out of a AirBus 380 is not advised, especially for a winzied old Russian with
chronic bronchitis and weighing 700 plus pounds, but as the passengers all slept, it would
appear that this is exactly what happened.

Everybody in the cabin had been sedated with an airborne sedative from the false oxygen
canister, except the 2 Russians.

Pulling a pressure suit out of the folds of false body makeup, Dry Ice gave the 'little old
lady' time to suit up before detaching the pressure lock.

Everything the couple had was sucked out the plane in an instant as the alarm burst into
life.

Before the pilots could begin their descent, Dry Ice and Master Sgt. Elise Donaldson had
already fallen 3000 feet like missiles. The one streamlined like a dolphin, the other simply too
heavy to be slowed by the minor air drag on the 650 pound mass.

By the time the AirBus 380 had dove to a safe altitude for its passengers, the mysterious
missing Russian couple had already landed on target and disposed of their disguises using
concentrated hydrofluoric acid.

In radio silence, the two slipped off into the black forest like cats.
 4

Malika Bayramova was not like any other girl you would ever meet.

She had exceptional talents and abilities not shared by others.

This is why she was easily able to escape the assault by the Germans who took the
professor and the atomic car.

Slipping past all security systems, picking locks and stealing data were useful little
additions to her skillset.

Nobody could guess at the reasons this dark eyed beauty with a fawning, submissive
demeanor could effortlessly exfiltrate a top security secret German gulag in the year 2019 but
she has done it.

But as she slipped down alleyways and through the night streets of Munich, she went
completely undetected past every observation and detection point along her path.

Hans Volbright Bush had the car now.

He also had the professor. He had everything except the technical data and his spies were
fast at work seeking those at this very moment.

Right now, he was imagining the glory of the Fourth Reich where he would become Der
Fuehrer, a reincarnation of the great Adolph Hitler.

With this engine, he could rule the world with weapons that needed no fuel to slow them
down and the logistical nightmares that came along with such.

Atop that, he could bring oil rich nations to their knees, beginning with the burgeoning state
of 'Mother Russia' who had so vilely disgraced Der Fuehrer so many years ago.

Soon the spies would have access to the professor's notes and then they would have the
formula necessary to mass produce the engine.

As he leaned back behind his desk in a plushly lined leather chair sipping Schnapps, he
savored the thoughts and imaginations floating through his head of streets lined once again
with cheering crowds and swastikas on every building’s facade, while he replaced Adolph at
the podium of a New World Order.

As the pair of USAF infiltrators slipped through the night forest, it was clear that a search
had already begun because emergency vehicles were being dispatched and reports of the
incident were being broadcast on the news.
 The Master Sgt. had agreed to have a cerebral cybernetic implant which would permit her
to link to Dry Ice to eliminate the need for speech, even though in a way, it was a in a way,
breach of her privacy. There was no way to shut the device off between uses. Besides, on a
mission, turning it off was not an option due to situational awareness.

The advantage was that she was able to hear everything Dry Ice could hear or think. Oddly
though, Dry Ice seemed not to think much. At least not in the manner normal humans
thought...

It was mostly images and figures and formulae, not words or emotions.

In many respects, Dry Ice was a machine inside as well as outside.

Of course, the advantages of this were plainly obvious to the Master Sgt.

"Sir, this Russian 'Flame Wind' server has suddenly gone offline." the lieutenant announced
over the intercom.

"Under the circumstances, this is not surprising, Lieutenant," the admiral responded, "In
fact, its likely because it is being hacked or dismantled right now, even as we speak."

"We're in the dark then sir," the worried voice returned, "We will neither be able to locate it
or retrieve the critical data stored on it."

'We must take actions to mitigate the damages son. There is no time for worrying about
where it went or how it disappeared, it gave us crucial information before it went off line and
we must focus our efforts on those points we have at our disposal."

"Yes Admiral, sir!" came the last reply.

'So, the server is offline and we STILL don't know where it is, how it works, or what
information is stored on it!' the admiral grated to himself, 'But we have to keep calm and
approach the situation analytically.'

As the city of Munich was a faint glimmer in the distance, the sun was rising, which would
make the search for the missing passengers from flight 277 much easier.

This was a problem for the missing passengers who intended to remain missing.

Without much in the way of cover besides thick hedgerows, it behooved them to crawl their
way as deeply into these as possible and hope their chemical cover had eliminated any
chances of bloodhounds finding their trail.

Although the classified chemical compound was normally successful, there still were some
very few gifted bloodhounds who were not put off by its effects, and unfortunately, the
biological drawbacks to the engineering of Dry Ice included some overpoweringly potent
pheromones.

They just had to hope for the best and wait until dark.

As the realization that the professor's assistant had mysteriously vanished came to Hans,
he went into a rage.

"How could you incompetent fools let a weak child of a girl escape???" he bellowed, "Did
you FUCK her???"

The horrified guard had no time to react before the infuriated man jerked out his Walther
9mm and shot him in the forehead.

This did nothing to bring the missing woman back, but it at least gave him personal, if
fleeting satisfaction in venting his rage.

"CLEAN THAT UP!!!" He bellowed aiming his pistol at the remaining aide.

The man did so speedily in absolute horror.

10

Malika had never been to Munich, or out of the city of Moscow, Russia or all of that

That didn't prevent her from making her way to the largest market in the city and blending
into the crowd, making her location at this hour quite difficult to determine.

Quickly buying new clothing after withdrawing cash from a nearby ATM, she changed her
outfit, rented a hotel room, colored and styled her hair, applied some stage makeup and was
very much a different looking young lady on short notice.

As the day wore on, she made for the largest underground club in the city which had
anonymous internet access and was online in moments.

11

Dry Ice visibly moved when the Flame Wind server came back online in cyberspace.

Drifting through this virtual reality in her cyber implanted mind, she re-united with the Flame
Wind server like a child gazing at an angel.

There before her stood the visage of a small blue-white glowing angel of pure fire. Beautiful
in all its aspects. Flawless, symmetrical, logical, analytical yet with a sense of emptiness and
longing.
 And her icon stood there, blue white also, only hulking muscular with lightning blazing from
her eyes and finger tips.

As the 2 icons in virtual space gazed upon one another there was something developing in
each for the other that humans could not truly understand.

One might ask themselves: 'Can machines fall in love?'

12

"Sir, Dry Ice has come back online and has the exact location of the Flame Wind server."

"Oh! Wonderful news!" the admiral brightened, "So then there is a location?"

"Yes, Sir." the hurried reply came, "It is at a night club, the "Chacka Chacka, sir."

As the report cam in, the directive was already formulated to react to this new information.

The admiral gave the go-ahead and the lieutenant and his crew moved in to secure the
young woman Malika Bayramova and her military hardened laptop while Dry Ice and the Sgt.
would move in on the last known location of the professor and the car.

"Well son," the admiral sighed, "You know what to do and who to send to do it, so lets get
out there and go to it."

"Yes sir!" the lieutenant heartily agreed.

13

Being issued the go-ahead on executing the recovery of the professor and the car, the
team of Dry Ice and the Sargent moved into the city with a new set of disguises as Swedish
tourists and rented a car at the first available rental.

Next they rented a hotel room and set up surveillance of the building to make a safe
fallback for the professor's escape.

A helicopter was located and false medical identification badges were formulated so that
they could in a hurry obtain a rapid egress of the professor without raising any flags with the
local police or military.

In minutes they were finished and out the door to their next stage, reconnaissance of the
last known location of the car and the professor.