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"Atmospheric Conditions"


by Jim Oliver

a story in four parts 

July 20, 2000 
Madrid, Spain 
"He said he would be here at 10:00 p.m. So do not worry. In my time with the Spanish Mafia, they
have always kept their word, said Guy Moytola. He was a very big man topping off at six foot
ten. Strong as an ox, he had joined the Mafia at the age of twenty-two, just out of college. He
always had ways to surprise his superiors. His newest idea was to burn a mixture of chemicals and
titanium alloy, it comes out gold and silver. The man beside him had been related to the Mafia since
his older brother had joined up, working as a message runner. He turned to light up a cigarette. As
he turned, he heard the thumping of footsteps running down the cobblestone stone streets. The
teenager stopped and threw a weak salute. "I'm looking for Senor Moytola. I've a message for
him from headquarters." 
"I'm him," Moytola said," I'll sign for it and show I.D. if I have to."
"No need senor. The limousine will be coming around at any minute now. You will be taken to
headquarters to explain your idea to them. Then you shall fly to Russia to explain your ideas to
them. Sir." He said, adding the ÔSir' as an afterthought. 
"Will I need to inform the pilot to keep a sharp eye out for any Federation fighters?" Moytola said
sarcastically. "Because I like to travel as low as humanly possible." 
"Yes." 
"Very well. Thomas, come with my luggage." 

 

April 24, 2007
San Francisco, CA
As Ashley Healy walked in, she felt nervous about being in the Federation Council Building. Ashley
was twenty-three, graduated from the StarFleet Academy with a degree in security and engineering.
She had hair that came down to her shoulders, but never was seen without it pulled back in a
ponytail. She had served with distinction onboard the USS Bryant during the Romulan War.
"Excuse me, can you point me in the direction of the Grand Fleet Admiral's office?"
"Down the hall, 120th floor, tower three."
"Thanks."
She took the turbolift up there. The guards waved her right on through. She opened the door to his
office. He was in one of his Jedi trances. Erisi Dlarit watched her come through the door and shut it
behind her. She was a tall woman in her mid-twenties, looked like the opposite of Ashley, with
brown hair with streaks of gold in it. A SEAL, she looked tough, like someone you wouldn't want
to meet in a dark alley. "Hey, honey. What are you here for?"
"I truly don't know. I got rerouted from the Yeager." She wondered when the admiral was going
to pop out of his trance.
As if he heard her, which he had, he slowly opened his eyes. "I guess you're my spies?"
Both women looked at each other, confused.
"Erisi, meet Ashley Healy, chief of security onboard the Yeager. Ya'll be searching for the person
behind the epidemics in Asia, Europe, and South America. It is this virus and atmospheric
conditions that have killed off a better part of 48,000 people. You need to find and destroy the
sources. Questions?"
"Where exactly are the sources?" Erisi asked.
"Remote unknown places in Siberia, China, Italy, and Brazil. SEAL team 25 will be able to assist
you when you get close. Wraith Squadron will provide air cover. Does either of you know how to
fly F/A-18's?"
They were issued the newer Heckler & Koch MP-10s and Colt .45 caliber pistols. As they got a few
personal items together, they tried to figure out who could be behind the virus. TO BE
CONTINUED...