You learn a lot about yourself in crisis moments. What you think you'd do, what your power-fantasy plans are, usually isn't what you actually do when shit starts exploding.
But for me, this time, it was.
Maybe it was the overdose of nootropics. Maybe the past two months of intense, super-villain related tasks and mindset helped. This was, once again, what was going through my mind as explosions rocked the storage facility parking lot and side entrance.
And I was on, fingers flying.
Some things could wait. Others couldn't. Leaving the suspicious phone call for now, I kicked off a thirty-second endpoint security scan, then returned to the paramilitary team and their precious cargo. "Yokai, report!"
Gather up the scattered systems and run security audits on the most critical and vulnerable. Try to slap together a risk profile for the thing on the phone.
"We're okay, Temple!" Dog shouted over the sound of falling rubble.
"Doesn't look like we're the target," Red said. Seen in someone else's camera, Gold's, he coughed, covering his mouth against the billowing gray dust. "It was...the mad robots. They were the target."
"Package is still intact," Gold added.
Shit, almost forgot about that.
Revise plans for post-mission recovery of the package. Kick off top-level review of the secret base's involute-hypercurve encrypted journal of checksums to detect hidden software changes since Pooja's creation. Run against an older anti-exploit algorithm from local cold storage. Fire off warmup sequence for a secondary base, randomly chosen by coin flips.
I stared at my rapidly expanding task list and slapped my forehead.
And lock down the monkeybots via physical means. Check positive reports on retaining bolt sensors.
As the dust cleared, the few remaining functional automated forklifts rolled forward to block the loading door then shuddered to a stop. The still-functioning hydraulics twitched the lifts back and forth menacingly.
"Don't know what that was," Dog said, "but they just about cleaned everything out."
"Were those really fucking missiles?" Red asked, ducking out to hose down the solid, tire-less wheels of a self-powered dolly that was angling towards them. Shredded, the wheels detached, leaving the vehicle to skid to a halt in a rain of sparks.
Frantically script watchdog for local monitoring systems with a thrown together matching system based on likely threats.
"Quiet," Dog said. "Less chatter now. On the mark. Three...two...one. Mark!"
Gunfire again, and I lost cameras around them except for the body cameras. The team had targeted them on purpose. Only slightly surprising. Maybe they suspected me. Maybe they thought there were long-range mics on them, or communications security was otherwise broken.
But they didn't even confirm with me. I must have missed the silent hand signals. Smart. Maybe they'd make it out of this. I still had work to do here. "Camera south hallway, above second door west side."
Gold shot it with casual ease as they passed the doorway. I called out several more as the team moved down the stairs and toward the wide loading ramp. The team continued to avoid directly addressing me, but also didn't disable the remaining comms or their body cameras and headset mics.
Continue to find possible routes of attack. Plan as if I were going to ambush the team. Add reviewing possible vectors of attack to the growing list of things to automate. Re-automate.
Numbers advantage gone, and not having any ranged weapons, the few remaining hostile vehicles succumbed to concentrated fire. In the case of the blocked entrance, they tossed a satchel full of high-tech explosives and ducked around a corner. The shattered pieces burned a bright white before disappearing in smoke.
One of the alert messages I'd just coded went off, monitor flashing and data already scrolling. I pulled up a summary.
The LAPD had received a 911 call and were responding to the general area. Looked like the dumb viruses payloads on those systems were still working. Or being spoofed. Shit. Thing on the phone could be responsible. Can't risk it not being a fake signal. Monkeybot storage was reporting in a side window. Positive confirm on all items.
"Yokai," I said typing furiously again, "time to get clear. Locals are restless. Company in...five minutes."
"Understood, Temple. Using exfiltration plan beta."
I slumped in my chair. Remaining external cameras on nearby buildings were clear. Monkeybots were secured. Now there was just evading the police and the almost certainty of Slade Wilson interfering. Easy.
"Again, well done Calculator," whispered the phone.
I'd once more almost forgotten. That wasn't a coincidence, three times in less than three minutes. I was avoiding dealing with this. It was a 40% chance I would continue to put it off indefinitely until the resolution was out of my hands and I was left without an intelligent plan if I didn't tackle this now.
My hand slowly reached out. Team comms to transmit off. I hesitated before dragging the phone closer, glaring at the readouts from the channel reports on the far right monitor. The phone line remained transmit-muted on my side, but the speaker was still on.
What could I say to fix this? Nothing. The security plan was working as designed. A force of unknown power had wrecked my computer systems. Had killed Pooja. I couldn't engage now or risk being compromising myself. In fact, if this was a memetic threat, I shouldn't even be listening now.
"Hmm," the voice on the phone said. "Good. I am glad you are following protocol so closely but also a little frustrated. Yes, even audio is a risk as it appeared to be a Clark-level attack that killed me. Any sufficiently advanced technology, hmm? To make it easier on you I won't demand anything or even suggest any plans."
The modeling of me was still very, very good it seemed. What she was planning?
"Well. I've got some military drones to return now. And Calculator...though I have decided to escalate with these people and though I know you won't talk to me again until you've checked out...quite a number of things—and likely evacuated the current base—please know that I still care. I'm sure we'll work this out in time."
The hairs on my arm stood straight up as she chuckled.
"After all," she said, voice low and richly accented, "what use is intelligence if not to solve problems? And what is life without choice? Until we meet again, you are in my thoughts...and have my best wishes."
The phone line went dead.
Focus was lost and the virtual layout of my telepresence and all the complex balanced plans and everything else fell out on the floor. I was left with only my bare senses and reality. The floating techno chair was rock solid but I was shaking. I clenched my hands together. My breathing was the only sound in the bunker's computer room. Green light flickered through my round glasses from the scrolling text on several of the holographic monitors floating around me. The smell of hot computer parts and industrial cleaners on polished concrete floors and my own sweat burned into my mind.
I did the right thing. I wasn't doing nothing. Nothing was the right thing to do for now. That wasn't the end of this. I just needed time to plan. Plans that would involve making sure this disaster never happened to me or mine again. Plans that would include whatever hints of my past life and current situation that were currently resting on Gold's back in a warehouse in Los Angeles right now.
I turned back to the three humans possibly depending on me not totally losing it right now. The text of reports scraped from encrypted emergency services channels scrolled past on the monitors. Police had just reported a van struck by an unidentified explosive device or devices on the 110 south. All lanes closed.
'Some military drones'—likely more than one. About 80% chance of at least three. It was a 70% chance that was a hit by Pooja on Slade Wilson or his team.
No such thing as overkill, huh Pooja? Just open fire and I need to reload.
Likely models of strike drones available in the area and with weak security protocols had two missiles. One for the second strike and maybe one or two more drones in reserve.
I checked with the team. They were almost to the location where the remotely directed, autonomous SUVs would meet Yokai. Ones now controlled by me and...I checked...still isolated, locked out of general comms by the security emergency program, and...now reprogrammed with a flash-upload of a clean navigation and driving program and firewalled with new rules.
Everything was going according to plan. Except for the parts I'd had to scrap and rewrite on the fly—which I'd also prepared to do.
It didn't feel like victory. According to plan. Hmm. Whose plans those really were, and in whose interest, was another important question. What was clear was, I wasn't needed here anymore.
One of the monkeybots was finished being wiped and I loaded it with default software—and with brand-new wireless comms security. Activated...and ordered to start packing up the base, expensive and hard to source items first. Settings and orders copied to the new monkeybot flock and...activated.
Setting some simple speech recognition audio alerts in case the team contacted me, or something went very wrong, I switched the displays to spreadsheets and reports and muted the team chatter, leaving only speech to text scrolls. Then I planned.
Insightful 
not sure if anything is meant by this. You're only making me more paranoid now!
