The Col Sec Chronicles Box Set

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The Col Sec Chronicles Box Set Page 47

by Jan Domagala

“Eisenhower must be behind it too, there’s no way he would allow Wilde to work something of that scale right under his nose. That bastard hasn’t had an original idea for years. A fact he’s so paranoid about that he has moles in every major corporation in the galaxy. I’m sure he has one here, I’ve just never been able to figure out whom, but when I do I’ll skin the fucker myself.”

  “Why would you think he has a mole here?” asked Hawk wondering if it was merely sour grapes over losing over the contract to supply Col Sec.

  “He has to have one, how else would he win that contract with what he had. The weapons he’d offered to supply Col Sec with were faulty; they had a glitch in the power modulator that caused the battery clips to overload when used on sustained fire. Two weeks before the deadline to submit samples they suddenly had a breakthrough and solved the problem giving them the opportunity to submit the Sig P996 to you,” explained Rand.

  “That could happen surely,” Sinclair said, clearly not convinced.

  “You’re right, it could happen, but the design they had wasn’t for the Sig P996, they were developing the Tokarun T90. They stole the Sig from us; they had to change most of their production matrixes to fit the new model. If I remember rightly, they were late getting the bulk order to you.”

  “That’s right,” Sinclair agreed.

  “Every major new development they’ve come up with within the last decade has come from us and we can’t seem to plug the hole,” Rand said angrily.

  “In that case I’m not sure it would be wise to ask what I came here to ask,” Sinclair said and got to his feet.

  “I can assure you General that security here at RandCorp is second to none. I know to say that after divulging what I just have would seem a tad laughable, but I can assure you that although the leak may still be unplugged, we’ve made it more difficult to hack into our systems. We are in fact in the process of attempting to pinpoint the leak so we can plug it permanently.”

  “Able, we need an alternative to MaxCorp, one that can give us the edge against OMEGA and not someone who freely gives them the same. Col Sec can’t afford another Nemesis incident and neither can the Confederation,” Sinclair said in disappointment.

  “Excuse me, Nemesis?” Rand asked.

  “Yes, that was the starship that attacked us.”

  “The bastard stole that as well,” Rand almost screamed.

  “Well that just proves my point.”

  “General, I understand your doubts and I sympathise with you. Perhaps if I show you something we’ve been working on it might persuade you to reconsider and maybe loan us Matt here to help plug the leak.”

  Matt Hawk said, “Can’t hurt to look, General.”

  Sinclair looked at Hawk then at Rand and paused, with a sigh he said, “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  29

  “You won’t be sorry I can assure you gentlemen. What I’m about to show you will rock your world,” Rand said as he led them through the door from his office. Pointing to his private elevator that was at the end of the hall Rand smiled as a tall, elegantly dressed man was just leaving an office close by.

  “Maguire, can you inform Josh and Jess I may be late for lunch, there are some things I must attend to,” Rand said as the man turned to face them.

  “Certainly, sir,” the man replied and Hawk placed a hand on Sinclair’s arm as he knew that he, too, had recognised the voice.

  Rushing past Rand, Hawk strode up to Maguire, his Sig already drawn and grabbed Maguire by the throat, slamming him against the wall and placing the muzzle against his forehead just above and right between a pair of familiar opaline eyes.

  “Give me one good reason why I don’t splatter your brains all over this wall Maguire, or should I call you Rover?” he snarled through gritted teeth.

  “Matt, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rand asked as he made to go up to him and pull him off his employee. Sinclair put a restraining hand on his shoulder stopping him and as he turned to look at the General he asked, “What the hell is going on here Sinclair?”

  “That man is a clone, one of many made by Jonas Wilde to use in the employ of OMEGA, he’s a Rover. There’s your leak Rand, right there,” Sinclair replied releasing his hold on him.

  Rand looked at the man being pinned to the wall by Hawk and Sinclair could see him working things out in that sharp mind of his, seeing if it was at all possible. Maguire looked from Hawk to Rand and the fear that was present when he was grabbed, slowly drained away to be replaced by utter calm.

  With a smile Maguire said, “You got me.”

  “Why?” Rand asked.

  “I’m a clone, my allegiance is to my master, and it’s pre- programmed at birth. I do as he orders,” replied the Rover who then calmly touched something on his wrist. Both he and Hawk were suddenly enveloped in a bright light that seemed to expand and fill the hallway and then, just as suddenly, collapsed in upon itself.

  Rand and Sinclair were momentarily blinded by this and turned away to shield their eyes. When they turned back to where the light originated, the hallway was empty.

  “Oh no!” Rand exclaimed with obvious dread.

  “What?” Sinclair asked.

  * * * * *

  Hawk was lying on the ground when he opened his eyes. All he could remember was the blinding light that surrounded him and the Rover. A light so bright, so intense he could actually feel it, and that sensation was pain. All encompassing pain that blotted out all thought, all emotion; a pain so deep he swore it reached down into his bones. Then, when the light collapsed in on itself, he blacked out to wake up here, wherever ‘here’ was.

  At first he couldn’t move, not a muscle. Wherever he’d travelled to, the pain had come with him and it even hurt to move his eyes. Gradually the pain began to recede and he found he could breathe once more. Taking a slow, calming breath he began to assess his condition mentally to see if the pain was a marker of some deeper damage.

  Furtively he looked around him, hoping not to draw attention to himself or to the fact he was awake, at least not until he was sure he could move. The first thing he wanted to do was have a serious talk with that Rover and find out what the hell just happened but until he was certain he could at least stand without falling over, he guessed that would have to wait.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” said a voice he recognised from somewhere behind him and therefore out of sight. From what he could see from his position on the floor he was in a huge, dimly lit chamber, so he was guessing it was closed down or at least not used very often.

  “I’ll bet you’re feeling terrible, I know I did the first time I used it,” said the clone. Suddenly overhead lights were turned on and the chamber was bathed in bright light that made Hawk wince as thousands of needles were thrust into his eyes probing towards his brain, or at least that’s what it felt like.

  “They say it disrupts the neurons in the brain almost short circuiting it as it affects the body at a cellular level. I don’t really understand all the technical details but they also say it causes cellular degradation each time it’s used with a cumulative effect. After three times the effects are irreversible. Death is inevitable, a slow and painful death by all accounts. No one has survived more than five trips using the device,” explained the clone.

  “Well that explains what just happened, sort of, how about telling me where the hell we are?” Hawk said as he gathered his strength to stand and face the clone. As he got to his feet and unsteadily turned towards the clone he took in some more of his surroundings. There was equipment around him, but he had no idea what it could be used for and when he laid eyes on the clone he noticed a change. The skin on his face looked pale, almost translucent, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes; those opalescent eyes that all the clones had in identical faces, which had given him away.

  He looked ill and as if he’d aged a decade in the blink of an eye.

  “How many times have you used the device?” Hawk asked, but he thought he already kne
w the answer.

  “That was my third, I’m a dead man walking,” Maguire said with a half smile.

  “Oh, you became that the moment I saw you,” Hawk replied sourly.

  “Very good Mister Agent Man, but seeing as how I’m going to die anyway I’ve got nothing to lose, so do you think it’s wise to piss me off?”

  Hawk looked around the chamber searching for something.

  “What?” Maguire asked angrily.

  “Oh nothing, I was just trying to see if I could see anyone who gives a fuck,” Hawk replied coldly.

  “Oh very good, I must try to use that.”

  “Make it fast then, dead man walking, remember?”

  “Not before you though,” Maguire said and he brought up Hawk’s Sig and fired.

  * * * * *

  “Okay Rand, you’d better damn well explain what the hell just happened here,” Sinclair said angrily. Rand was staring at the space where Hawk and the clone had stood seconds ago.

  “That damned fool,” Rand managed to say finally.

  “What? Say something damn it,” ordered Sinclair his anger reaching boiling point.

  “He’s used the SUT, the damned fool,” Rand replied as if that explained everything.

  “What the hell is a SUT and why do you keep insisting he’s a damn fool? Talk to me Rand,” Sinclair said trying to get Rand to focus. Clearly what had just happened had rattled him and was unexpected on so many levels, but now more than ever he needed the man’s help.

  Seeming to gather his wits Rand looked at Sinclair and said, “I’m sorry General, the SUT, or Single Unit Transporter was, or is, just that, a transportation device for single unit, one person, but we abandoned it because it proved too unstable for the user. It disrupts not only the binding of cells to each other but also the entire nervous system. Anyone using it, their brain sort of short circuits, that is bad enough but something we thought we could work on and eradicate in time, until we learned of the cellular degradation. No one using it more than five times lived, after the third, possibly the fourth trip, depending on the subject, the effects are irreversible.”

  “Oh my God, so where has he taken Matt? C’mon, think man,” Sinclair shouted. He needed to move, to do something, anything, in order to help Matt.

  “I’m not sure. No, wait, you said he’s a clone, right, and he works for Jonas Wilde and that OMEGA group thing?”

  “Yes, a clone, we need to stop him. He may be able to lead us to where they are, and now that Wilde is dead we have to stamp them out.”

  “Well, before you do that General, come with me. I think I know where he’s gone.”

  * * * * *

  Hawk saw the Sig come up and adrenalin flooded his system giving him the strength to move. Not expecting to be able to evade the shot, he dived into a roll anyway and the pulsed plasma bolt passed under his right armpit grazing his already bruised ribs but at least he was alive, which was more than could be said for the clone once he got his hands on him, he vowed.

  Maguire had aimed directly at him, firing at him as he stood there, and he knew of no man alive who could dodge a shot like that, but he also knew why he had missed. The slight tremor in his hand threw his aim off; the effects of cellular degradation had begun.

  Still fighting the effects of travelling via the SUT, Hawk felt a little disorientation lingering throwing him slightly off his game. Putting a hand to his ribs beneath his right armpit he felt the blood oozing through his shirt from the wound. He had to finish this quickly before loss of blood became a factor. Looking up from the ground where he’d landed after being shot, he saw Maguire bringing the Sig onto him for another shot.

  There was a desk close by and he frantically hurled himself behind it just as Maguire fired. The shot blasted away the corner of the desk and Maguire, sensing victory, fired again and again destroying more and more of Hawk’s cover with each shot. Soon there would be nothing left to hide behind. He had to do something – but what? He realised he was having trouble thinking clearing, obviously another effect of the SUT, but what could he do? He couldn’t move or he’d be shot, he couldn’t stay there for much longer either and he had nothing to fight back with. He was trapped and rapidly running out of time and options.

  * * * * *

  Rand ran to the private elevator with Sinclair hot on his heels. Once inside he ordered it to take them to Sub Level 5 and then he called security and ordered an armed team to meet them on arrival.

  “Okay Rand, do you want to tell me where we’re going or should I cover my eyes and act surprised?” Sinclair was getting fed up of being kept in the dark like this and he realised this must be what it was like sometimes for those who worked for him and a wry smile escaped.

  “Glad you’re enjoying yourself, General,” Rand said after spotting the quickly disguised expression.

  “Just anticipating what Matt will do to that clone.”

  “Trust me, General, he’ll be in no fit state to do anything, not after his first trip. I doubt he’s even conscious.”

  “You obviously don’t know Matt Hawk very well; he’s got the constitution of an ox and the strength to match.”

  “I hope you’re right, sir, because he’ll sure need it. Okay get ready, we’re almost there.”

  * * * * *

  Over half the desk had been destroyed by shots from the Sig and Hawk could tell Maguire was getting closer in anticipation of the kill.

  There was only one thing Hawk could think of doing and that was to take the fight to him. Seconds ago he wouldn’t have had a clue what to do, but now as the fog around his mind began to clear, he knew exactly what to do.

  “Just a few more shots, just a few more steps closer”, he thought.

  Grabbing hold of the underside of what was left of the desk, Hawk thrust up with his legs and pulled up with his hands hurling the desk at the oncoming clone.

  Maguire wasn’t expecting any resistance from Hawk and when the desk came at him it caught him off guard and he momentarily panicked. He threw up his hands to ward off the incoming missile and therefore stopped firing.

  Hawk continued his momentum and followed the desk towards the clone. By the time Maguire had deflected the desk Hawk was within striking range. He had run and dived through the air at him and they collided with a bone-crunching impact and Hawk’s momentum took them both off their feet to crash to the floor.

  They rolled on the ground and Maguire suddenly found himself on top. He couldn’t believe his luck and before Hawk could react he’d smashed the butt of the Sig against the side of his head.

  Unable to defend against the blow, Hawk braced himself as best he could, but still it rattled his teeth and for a second stars flashed before his eyes.

  Maguire pushed himself away and looked around, momentarily disorientated by the fight. Seeing what he needed he moved off in that direction.

  Shaking off the effects of the stunning blow, Hawk got to his feet faster than the clone thought possible and was after him once more. Forgetting he still had the Sig in his hand the clone began to run towards his objective, which looked to be a computer terminal over by a huge piece of equipment, the purpose of which was a complete mystery to Hawk.

  Reaching the terminal, Maguire realised he still held the Sig and brought it around to fire at the onrushing Hawk who, on seeing the movement, once more dived full length.

  He caught Maguire across the chest with his arm and took the two of them down again but this time, instead of landing in a heap, Hawk managed to roll clear then come up on his feet at almost the same time as the clone. Maguire still had the Sig in his right hand and as he tried to bring it up, Hawk kicked it away with his right foot in an outside crescent kick. This move knocked Maguire’s arm across his body as the kick connected and he watched as the weapon was sent sliding across the floor.

  Hawk planted his right foot on the floor after landing the kick and followed through with a left cross to Maguire’s chin, which snapped the clone’s head around so viciously Hawk though
t he may have killed him.

  Maguire went sprawling on the floor from the tremendous blow to his jaw, actually following the path of the Sig. He managed to reach out and grab it then bring it back around to fire a series of shots at Hawk.

  Instead of finishing the fight as he’d hoped, the punch not only prolonged it also gave his adversary the advantage again.

  Seeing the pistol in the clone’s hand again, Hawk dived for the nearest cover he could find just as a salvo of pulsed plasma bolts strafed where he’d been standing.

  He landed hard on his shoulder behind the huge piece of equipment he’d been next to and hoped the energy from the shots would not cause this thing, whatever it was, to explode.

  Searching frantically for anything he could use as a weapon he noticed that the shots being fired at him were very erratic, almost none of them were hitting the target. He wondered if this side effect of travelling through the SUT would affect him too and if so, how soon.

  All that could wait though, now he had more important things on his mind, like how to survive the next few minutes.

  There was a cessation of gunfire then almost silence; the only sound was Maguire working at the computer terminal. Hawk had no idea what he was doing, then another sound invaded the silence, that of equipment powering up. No, more like an engine, and he was right behind it.

  * * * * *

  Rand and Sinclair braced themselves to move the moment the elevator came to a halt. The doors opened with a soft hiss and were immediately greeted by two large men with pistols drawn and aimed at the ceiling.

  “We’ve secured this level, sir. No one’s getting in or out through those doors,” said the largest of them who was obviously in charge. Both men wore battle vests with various pockets filled with spare battery clips and other equipment, similar to vests worn by Recon Delta marines. Leggings of the same material with patch pockets on the side of the legs were also worn with padding covering the knee area. Military style boots adorned their feet while a helmet of a design unfamiliar to Sinclair protected their heads. The blast shields were down so their faces were hidden from view.

 

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