Page 42 of Undercover Infidel
We parked the vehicle on an old logging road and covered it with a camouflage tarp. Con shouldered a backpack containing our equipment while I carried another with supplies we might need for an extended observation. Despite the seriousness of our mission, I couldn’t help but admire his obvious comfort in field operations—a side of him I hadn’t witnessed before.
The trek through the dense Scottish woods took almost an hour. Con moved ahead of me with the silent grace of someone well practiced in covert approaches. Following his lead, I matched his footfalls, mindful not to disturb the underbrush.
When we reached the ridgeline, Con raised his hand to signal a halt and activated our signal-masking device before we moved to the observation point.
From our elevated position, we had a much better view of the estate than the satellite imagery had provided.
Con unpacked a high-powered spotting scope while I assembled a digital camera with a telephoto lens. We worked in companionable silence, our movements synchronized as if we’d done this dozens of times together.
“I count eight external cameras,” I said through the comms. “Plus what appears to be motion sensors at two-meter intervals along the fence line.”
We settled in for a long-term stakeout, documenting everything we saw in meticulous detail. As the day progressed, we made a record of the deliveries and staff rotations. The estate operated with military precision, hinting that whoever ran the facility had a background in safeguarding sensitive installations.
Late in the afternoon, a sleek black sedan with tinted windows approached the main gate. Unlike the previous vehicles, this one wasn’t searched or delayed. The gates opened immediately, suggesting someone of importance had arrived.
“Get ready,” Con whispered.
I focused my camera on the sedan as it pulled up to the main entrance. The rear door opened, and a tall, gaunt man emerged.
My breath caught. Though I could only see his profile, the distinctive way he moved was unmistakable—the slightly jerky gait, the rigid posture. I’d observed those same movements at three different AI conferences years ago.
“That’s Orlov,” I confirmed, snapping multiple photos.
Con’s expression hardened. “Not a ghost, after all.”
We continued our watch until dusk approached, capturing evidence of activity consistent with our suspicions. Through windows on the northern wing, I glimpsed what could be a testing facility—banks of computers, specialized equipment, and workstations arranged in a configuration I recognized from theoretical research.
“They’re proceeding with integration trials.”
“How far along would you estimate they are?” Con asked, his eyes never leaving the compound.
“Days from functional capability, not weeks.”
Con’s expression darkened. “We should head back. We’ve gathered enough for now, and I don’t want to risk discovery.”
The return journey was faster but more demanding as darkness fell. Con led us through the forest with unerring accuracy. However, by the time we reached the vehicle, my muscles ached from the day’s exertion. I dozed off more than once on the return trip to the inn.
Rather than retiring to bed when we arrived, we set up our equipment, converting the room into a temporary ops center. Neither of us mentioned sleep; we both knew the evidence we’d gathered needed immediate analysis.
“Let’s return later tomorrow,” Con said as we worked. “I want to observe their night operations and document any additional deliveries. We still have two more days booked here.”
“Roger that,” I said, connecting my camera to one of his secure terminals. “I’ll also start processing the images we captured.”
“And I’ll cross-reference what we’ve seen with known shipments of quantum-computing equipment.”
For the next two hours, we worked side by side, compiling and analyzing everything we’d documented. The energy between us had shifted from the intimacyof the previous night to the focused intensity of two operatives in a race against time.
“Look at this,” I said, pointing to enhanced images of the facility’s northern wing.
Con leaned closer, his shoulder brushing mine. “They’ve installed a dedicated power infrastructure. That level of energy consumption suggests…”
“Neural processing on a massive scale,” I finished. “Consistent with a fully autonomous system.”
We spentthe next two days the same way, documenting everything down to the most minute detail, then analyzing our findings each evening. By the third day, we had amassed substantial evidence of Labyrinth’s development, along with an absolute certainty Orlov was implementing a truly autonomous AI-weapons system, the implications of which were catastrophic.
We packed up early on our final day, both concerned about ruining our cover by hanging around any longer. The return journey to Blackmoor was long but gave us time to discuss our findings and formulate the next steps.
It was late evening when we finally arrived at the gates of Blackmoor. Despite our exhaustion, we went directly to Con’s ops hub to upload and secure our evidence.
