The Operator
The crew of the International Space Station was shocked when the hatch to the supposedly unmanned SpaceX Dragon resupply capsule opened, and Duke Sterling floated in behind his signature disarming grin. The ISS crew consisted of three experienced cosmonauts and Mission Specialist Dag Nilsen from Norway.
“Forgive my unexpected visit,” Sterling said in unaccented Russian. “Unfortunate international circumstances dictate I impose upon you briefly.” Mission Specialist Nilsen heard the words in Norwegian.
One of the cosmonauts was the preternaturally gorgeous Svetlana Fedorov, formerly principal dancer at the Bolshoi. She subsequently earned a PhD in astrophysics while simultaneously raising her twin nephews orphaned in a tragic catfish noodling accident. Her two male comrades were hardened Spetsnaz veterans.
Sterling quickly settled into the routine of ISS life. He dominated the Russian card game of P’yanitsa despite never before having played. Forty-eight hours later, the four scientists counted Sterling among their dearest friends.
On day three, Sterling glanced at his watch and said, “I must be going. Thank you for your hospitality.” Before anyone could react, he was in his EVA suit, a sleek armored case connected to his waist via an aluminum carabiner.
Svetlana leaned toward him and whispered, “Am I pregnant?”
Sterling could always tell. Though he had not physically touched her, Svetlana Fedorov would not be the first woman to find herself with child simply from being in the same room with Duke Sterling. Smiling sweetly, Sterling said, “Nyet.”
In one practiced movement, Sterling was in the airlock. He glanced at his watch a final time, waved at his new friends and exited the ISS. When the moment was right, he pushed off vigorously toward earth.
Two hours and 27 minutes later, Sterling deployed his parachute. A quarter-hour after that, he touched down noiselessly in total darkness on the horse track of the Ryongson Residence north of Pyongyang, North Korea. Sterling removed his space helmet and soaked up the silence. Despite having just HALO’d into North Korea from the International Space Station, his heart rate loitered in the high 50s.
Sterling’s dark camouflage fatigues rendered him invisible in the darkness. He popped open the case and ran his fingers over its contents in the darkness. In 30 seconds, he had his Canik TP9 SFx METE fully assembled. He slipped the sinister weapon into its custom fit-and-lock retention holster before stowing his spacesuit, parachute and dunnage behind the stable. He then activated his NVGs and pressed toward the foreboding enormity of the main edifice. It was showtime.
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