Chapter 2 — Up in the Clouds

Inside the AI Commandos van, Captain Joseph Connor scans the live telemetry feed. The transport aircraft continues its orbit above the city, stubbornly refusing to land.

Fuel margins are shrinking.

“Why are we leaving the base?” the front-seat passenger asks the driver. “Our base is very secure, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” the driver replies. “But once we access the federal network, we’ll be visible. Exposed. It’s protocol. Didn’t you learn that in training?”

In the back, a young sergeant breaks the silence.

“I’ve seen this pattern in training. If the AG-UI layer is firing recursive event hooks, we can register to the same event stream. Shadow the callback. Identify the active process ID and terminate it. Leave our handler in control.”

Connor glances up. “That’s risky for this application. And it only addresses the client-side execution. And the agent?”

Outside, high above the clouds, the aircraft continues to circle.

Connor’s voice tightens. “Assume the agent isn’t hallucinating. The transport isn’t refusing vectors—it’s waiting.”

Sgt. Leung, the Network Specialist, leans over. “We need to analyze the agent’s logs, find a pattern… get access through a diagnostics interface, or locate a mirror/SPAN port.”

“COMS, are you tracking that CF-18?” Connor asks.

“Yes. On SATCOM. I’m also scanning UHF and VHF in case they fallback,” the COMS specialist replies, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

“Sergeant Leung, hold that thought. What if it’s a faulting dependency?”

“Like a data provider…” Lieutenant Markova, Automation Specialist, adds.

“I can reassess network access through the diagnostic interface. We’ve done it before—scanning internal ports and mapping them to federal services,” Leung says.

After a quick assessment by the team.

“COMS ready?”  Connor asks.

“Encrypted. Go.”

Connor speaks into the secure line. “Colonel Austin, we are at B4 673 214.”

“Copy that, Captain. I see you,” Austin replies.

Connor exhales sharply. “Weather SSE malformed. Dependency fault. The agent’s waiting.”

“Copy. Weather SSE events sending malformed data. What’s your plan, Captain? Time’s running out,” Austin says.

Leung’s pulse quickens. “Sir, the transport is running on fumes. If it keeps this trajectory for twelve minutes and thirty seconds, it will crash… The Kitsilano area will be affected. The CF-18 is in position.”

“Sir,” Connor’s voice steadies, though his knuckles whiten on the console.

“We can stream the cleaned data through a proxy. The server agent will calculate the vectors and send the SSE event to the transport.”

Silence. Connor’s blood hammers in his ears.

“…Injection will expose your node. Risk acknowledged,” Austin finally says.  After a pause, he adds — “Execute.”

“I know you can hear me!”

“Sir, this is coming through SATCOM,” the COMS specialist interrupts.

A new voice cuts in, cold and authoritative. “This is Lieutenant General Robert Weston. I know where you are. You are interfering with a Canadian Air Force operation and committing a federal crime. Abandon this channel at once… or I will be forced to act.”

Connor starts to respond. “This is Blue Commander, and—”

“Connor. Stand down,” Weston interrupts.

Connor swallows.

“This is Colonel Austin. I am in charge of this operation. Good afternoon, Lieutenant General Weston.”

“I do not recognize your authority. Eagle One, abandon this channel. Follow protocol.” Weston snaps.

The CF-18 pilot responds. “Acknowledged." And abandons SATCOM.  Almost instantly, the pilot's voice is heard through the van's speakers.

"This is Eagle One to base on UHF 300 MHz.”

“Base to Eagle One. Acknowledged.”

“Sir, we are less than ten minutes,” Leung alerts, tension thick in her voice.

“Automation Specialist?” Connor asks.

Markova meets his gaze. “It’s a go.”

Sgt. Leung's fingers hover. “Ready to send the stream with the correct schema.”

“Execute,” Connor says.

“On its way… logs look good… data integrity verified!” Leung confirms.

Telemetry flickers. A descent vector shifts. A hand freezes over a keyboard.

“Eagle One, execute… WAIT! ABORT!”

“Approach vector locked. Two minutes to touchdown,” the commando Telemetry Specialist announces.

The van command center falls into deep silence. A cold stillness stretches each second into slow sequence, creeping into the occupants’ hands and feet.

Far beyond their sight, the transport is on final approach.

—Have we done everything right?

—Will it stall?

—Can the crew make it land?

"Touchdown confirmed."

Outside, the screeching turbines of the CF-18 pass overhead, their roar fading into the distance.

On their way to BC-2, the occupants of the van are lost in their own worlds. Only the rhythmic roar of the engine and the occasional rattle of equipment cases remind them of the present.

Connor exhales. “He was right… until we acted, it was both safe and doomed.”

The 2011 rioters weren’t “evil.” The 2026 transport plane wasn’t “evil.” Both were just nodes in failing systems—reflections of human choices and blind spots.

In both cases, the Establishment—police in 2011, General Weston today—waited until the system fractured, then reached for weapons.

They blamed the “thugs” in 2011.

They blamed the “AI” in 2026.

Connor lets the silence settle. The lesson isn’t in blame. It’s in observing, understanding, acting deliberately. 

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