Operation Dreamcatcher
Marigold ran her fingers over the door lock. Her nails, coated with a thin electrical paint, responded with the right code to unlock it.
She entered pushing a large cart in front of her. Her target was there in her view, tapping frantically on a keyboard. He was pale and lanky, his neon blue hair brighter than the photos she had inspected.
“Housekeeping,” she said nonchalantly, but he didn’t respond. She could hear the pounding electronic beat blasting out of his headphones.
She tried to keep her cool, but she was admittedly nervous. This wasn’t a random ex-military brute that could be easily dispatched in the field. Kirill Krylov, known online as Icebreaker, was a legend from the seedy depths of the Kyrgyzstan dark web. His band of hackers was currently responsible for countless acts of sabotage, including crippling cyberattacks on city water grids.
Mari had to move the cart deftly. The whole room was a shrine to the digital age. Wires snaked everywhere, and strange contraptions were plugged into every outlet. Krylov slumped in his swivel chair, his eyes darting back and forth between the four monitors arranged in a grid.
“Complimentary energy boost, Mr. Krylov,” she handed him an energy drink she had stashed away.
It was basically the same as those you’d buy in any convenience store. It only took a few drops to put someone in a drowsy state. The hard part was knowing how long it would take. By the looks of his messy desk, he already drank three today.
He just grunted and took the can without looking at her.
She just had to buy some time. So she kept up the room service charade. She moved around the room, busying herself by moving towels and pillows back and forth. With each object moved, she discreetly placed a micro-camera and signal repeater as she had been trained. If this went sideways, they needed a plan B.
Half an hour later, she could tell the formula was taking hold. Krylov’s frantic typing slowed. His eyes were blinking more frequently.
As he let out a loud yawn, she interjected.
“Sir, anything else I can get you?” she asked with as much politeness as she could muster.
“Mmm? Me? Nah, I’m good,” his voice slurred. He leaned back farther in his chair, finally taking his hand off the keyboard.
Mari’s heart jumped. It was time.
“Mr. Krylov, your lights seem a bit bright,” she lied. “Mind if I adjust them?”
His head bobbed, but she had no idea if that was a yes or no. Regardless, she turned out the overhead lights. At this point his eyelids closed and he was quickly entering REM sleep.
She hurriedly returned to the cart and opened up the false bottom. Inside was the Dreamcatcher, the latest tech from Langley. It was surprisingly small, a headband and a few electrodes.
Mari carefully placed the device over Krylov’s head and turned it on. Soon she could start recording the subconscious thoughts in his head. Thoughts, fears, and maybe even raw code. But they really needed to find the keys to his empire and shut it all down.
She pulled out the device’s paired monitor to analyze what he was seeing, and steer the dream if possible. His dreams weren’t nightmarish or even close to realism as she had assumed. They were a bizarre collage: cartoon kittens dancing across rainbows, geometric patterns shifting and dissolving… but nothing useful.
“He’s online, even asleep,” she muttered to herself. “It’s like digital acid.”
Was there something she could do? She had to try.
Leaning over his shoulder, she whispered a prompt into his ear with the hope it would reach his subconscious.
“You are looking at your private keys.”
There was a flicker on-screen. The unicorns faded away and suddenly there was a safe. The door opened to reveal a string of numbers. Bingo!
“Intruder alert! Hotel system breach!” a robotic voice suddenly shrieked into the room. The lights suddenly turned on, flashing red.
Damn. The hotel’s AI finally noticed the intrusion.
Mari ripped the Dreamcatcher off Krylov, at least satisfied that she got what she came for.
He jolted awake, looking around at the chaos. He turned and looked at her with growing horror. “Who the hell are you?”
Mari lunged for the balcony window. She could hear the approaching sirens. There wasn’t time for small talk.
“Let’s just say… if you’re ever interested in a new career, you’ll know how to find us Mr. Krylov.”
Behind her, the first burst of a stun-gun crackled. She dived headfirst through the window. The cityscape became a blur as she plummeted.
The wind whipped past her face as her chameleon suit opened wide around her. It had been far too close, but she succeeded. They got the information Langley desperately needed. Now it was up to her coworkers to put that knowledge to practice and get the water treatment plants operational again.
I keep a dream journal. They’re really quite bizarre. I don’t know what’s up with my subconscious. But there continues to be efforts at bringing dreams into reality.
Maybe this could be a fun way to learn about someone’s true self. Maybe revealing fantasies will lead spouses to divorce. But its applications in espionage might be the most interesting.