Terminal

by Roderick Gordon

  ‘No!’ Elliott burst out, with such vehemence Drake opened his eyes. ‘I can’t go. Not yet.’

  Tucked down against the parapet by the edge of the roof, Parry was using his binoculars to try to see inside the cathedral where the tank had reversed. ‘We need to know who’s in that Challenger, and what they’re doing here. Because whatever they’re up to, it’s acting like a magnet to the Armagi.’

  Eddie nodded in agreement. ‘No question that they seem to have diverted from their original route to the Thames, and instead they’re beating a path here.’

  Danforth had been running another check on the signal from the beacon and its direction. ‘Maybe it’s an obvious thing to say, but my money’s on the tank for the VLF signal – it has to be where it’s originating,’ he said.

  Parry had switched his attention to what was left of the cathedral’s domed roof as he thought out loud. ‘That wasn’t a conventional explosion. Something very strange happened here, and I just pray that we’re on to something we can use to get ourselves out of this corner, or at least buy a little breathing space.’ He was silent for a beat before he added, ‘But we’re running out of time. We need to get someone inside the building for a recce.’

  Danforth cleared his throat. ‘I’ll go. I can get some comms up and running with whoever’s in the Challenger. I’m the obvious choice to do it.’

  ‘It’s unlikely you’ll make it through with that lot to contend with,’ Parry said, peering down at the ever-increasing hordes of Armagi.

  ‘In the scheme of things, I don’t think it makes a whole lot of difference if I stay up here or try my luck down there. As it stands, the chances of us coming through this aren’t very promising,’ Danforth said.

  Parry grimaced as he shot a glance over the London skyline. ‘I’m afraid you’re right – the choppers are too far out. Even if I ordered them back right now, it’s doubtful that any of us could get clear of the blast radius.’

  ‘So why not let me go down there and have a recce round the place?’ Danforth asked.

  ‘I’m not going to try to argue you out of it,’ Parry replied, glancing at his watch. ‘Take a couple of my best men – travel light, so you don’t attract too much attention. You can use the pedestrian subway to get as close as you can to the cathedral, then you’re going to have to play it by ear.’ For a moment they all focused on a point twenty feet or so from the entrance to the cathedral where a London Transport sign marked a flight of steps leading down under the pavement.

  Danforth rushed off to put some equipment together in a shoulder bag and, minutes later, he and a pair of SAS soldiers emerged onto the street at the rear of the office block. All three of them checked the immediate area for Armagi but there were none in sight. The creatures seemed to be concentrating themselves directly around the cathedral, which made life easier for the moment, but would cause Danforth problems as he got nearer.

  With one soldier positioned behind him and one in front, Danforth began to edge along the wall of the building, all three of them hugging it and moving as quietly as they could.

  Once they’d reached the corner, the entrance to the pedestrian subway was in spitting distance and, on the assumption that no Armagi had wandered down there, it would bring them up at the cathedral forecourt in no time at all. Danforth was trying not to think about the last twenty feet he’d need to cover, through the throng of creatures. He didn’t delude himself that this whole exercise had the smell of a desperate suicide mission.

  He was almost at the corner when a shout rang out from behind.

  ‘Danforth!’

  Danforth and the two soldiers spun around.

  Chester was standing there, his shotgun pointing straight at Danforth. Martha was beside the boy, her crossbow also levelled at Danforth, while Stephanie was standing several paces behind, looking very frightened.

  ‘Chester, this isn’t a great time,’ Danforth replied, keeping his voice low.

  ‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you,’ the boy growled, ‘about what you did to my parents.’ He advanced towards Danforth, showing no fear despite the fact that the two soldiers had their assault rifles trained on him.

  ‘Do you want us to remove them?’ one of the soldiers asked Danforth.

  ‘Remove us?’ Chester said, his lip curling viciously.

  ‘Hold on,’ Danforth said, shaking his head. ‘Chester, we seriously don’t have time for this. The US is lining up a nuclear strike on us here in London. We need to g—’

  ‘Remove us?’ Chester repeated. He turned his head towards Martha, and gave her a small nod.

  Like a streak of white lightning, the Brights struck the two soldiers hard, lifting them in the air and hurling them both against the wall. As they slipped down to the pavement, their bodies were twisted and broken.

  Danforth had his hands up around his head. ‘That was unnecessary,’ he said, his voice even despite what had just happened. ‘And I see you are using Brights. I was wondering what saved me from those Limiters when GCHQ was hit.’

  ‘You’re next, Danforth!’ Chester said. His eyes were mad, his face contorted with his hunger for revenge.

  ‘No!’ Stephanie cried, not able to take her eyes from the two dead men. ‘What are you doing? You didn’t need to …’ She didn’t know what to think about Chester’s crusade against Danforth, but to kill two men who had happened to get in the way was more than she could live with. Stephanie’s eldest brother had joined the army in the months before all the troubles started, and she couldn’t help but picture him slumped there, his blood smeared down the wall. She took a shallow breath as waves of nausea hit her. ‘This has to stop,’ she said.

  Martha simply ignored her, her crossbow still raised.

  Chester moved closer to Danforth, jabbing the barrel of the shotgun at him. ‘You were saying something about removing us, you creep? Like you removed my mum and dad?’

  Danforth still had his hands up, but never once flinched as Chester brandished the weapon at him. ‘Chester, whether I was wrong or right to do what I did … in a few minutes it’s all going to be immaterial,’ Danforth said. ‘Why don’t you listen to what I’m telling you? – we’ve been targeted for a missile strike!’

  ‘I couldn’t care less,’ Chester said, his voice a low rumble. But Stephanie did care. She had no reason to disbelieve Danforth – the urgency in his voice sounded genuine enough, and it certainly didn’t appear that he was still in cahoots with the Styx or he wouldn’t be skulking around and hiding from the Armagi. And, besides all this, she did care very much about the two dead soldiers.

  She did the only thing she could think of.

  She slipped the huge hunting knife from Martha’s belt and, grabbing hold of the woman’s filthy hair, yanked her head back with the blade at her throat.

  As Martha swore, Stephanie tried to get the boy’s attention.

  ‘Chester,’ she called out. ‘You’ve gone too far. You’re not going to hurt anyone else.’

  ‘Keep out of it!’ he barked, not even turning to look at her. ‘Let me enjoy this moment. The moment I kill this stinking traitor.’

  ‘No, Chester, you’re not going to do that,’ Stephanie said, trying to keep her voice calm, despite the thumping of her heart. ‘Let him go, or I’ll stick this knife into Martha.’

  Only now did Chester tear his eyes from Danforth for a quick glance behind him. But his insane, unblinking gaze was back on Danforth almost immediately, and he began to guffaw. It was loud and disturbing and made his whole body shake. ‘Go ahead, Stepho,’ he said. ‘Kill her then. Do your worst.’

  ‘Chester?’ Martha asked quietly. ‘You don’t mean th—’

  ‘Oh, shut up, you smelly old bag,’ Chester interrupted her.

  ‘Chester,’ Martha gulped. ‘It’s me – it’s your ma speaking.’

  Chester’s bloodlust was up. He wasn’t thinking when he spoke. ‘You’re bloody joking? My mum? You’re about as much like her as a bucket of dead slugs.’

  Chest
er began to speak to Danforth in a furious whisper, the barrel of the shotgun rammed against the man’s temple.

  Stephanie felt Martha’s body tense.

  ‘I’m sorry you feel like that, dearie.’

  Martha pulled the trigger.

  The bolt from the crossbow struck Chester in the back. He didn’t cry out in pain or surprise, but an involuntary spasm made him fling his arms out to each side.

  Danforth seized hold of the shotgun, pulling it from the boy’s grip as he folded to the ground. ‘Phew. Thank God,’ Danforth whispered, not because he was safe from Chester now, but because if the weapon had discharged the Armagi would have come flocking. ‘I have to go. You’ve got things under control here?’ he said to Stephanie, speaking so rapidly the words were barely comprehensible. He didn’t wait for an answer as he rushed to the corner and slipped out of sight.

  Stephanie swallowed hard.

  She remained in the same position, with the knife pressed to Martha’s throat. ‘Chester,’ she whispered, trying to deal with what had just happened as she stared at the motionless boy. The blood drained from her head and her vision swam as she thought that she might pass out.

  Then Stephanie felt the disturbed air and caught glimpses of the Brights sweeping close overhead. Martha had dropped her crossbow after taking the shot, but she still had the deadliest weapons at her disposal; her ‘fairies’ would do anything to protect her.

  It immediately brought Stephanie to her senses. She realised the precarious situation she was in. I am not going to die here, she told herself.

  ‘Move!’ Stephanie snapped at Martha, quickly heaving the woman across the pavement with her. And when Stephanie felt her back was against the wall, she pulled Martha in as close to her as she could, making sure she was tucked well behind the portly woman and her tent-like clothes.

  Stephanie knew she might be safe from the Brights for the time being, but she had no idea where she was going to go from there. She wondered about the door Danforth and the soldiers had emerged from, but she couldn’t see it from where she was.

  Martha was sobbing silently. Stephanie could feel her body shaking against hers.

  ‘It’s all right, girly,’ Martha said after a moment, in a rather pathetic voice. ‘I don’t blame you. He wasn’t a nice boy. Nothing like my sweet Nathaniel. Nothing.’

  Stephanie and Martha regarded Chester where he lay, face down, the bolt protruding from his back.

  ‘He’s really dead, isn’t he?’ Stephanie asked.

  Martha shrugged, then replied, ‘You have nothing to fear from me. I don’t blame you for anything. You and I were both taken in by him.’

  Stephanie considered this. If what Danforth had said was true – and this was a gamble given his past form – it didn’t matter much if the Brights killed her, because they were all going to be dead soon from the American missiles anyway.

  ‘Okay,’ Stephanie said eventually, removing the knife from Martha’s throat and letting go of her. ‘I’m sorry I did that to you, but …’

  Martha took several steps to the edge of the pavement.

  She didn’t turn, but slowly stretched her hand with the mangled fingers up into the air, and gave a sad, dejected little whistle.

  Here it comes, Stephanie thought, bracing herself. I’m going to end up like those dead soldiers.

  And the Brights did come, but instead of attacking Stephanie, they collected around Martha, enclosing her as their wings thrummed the air.

  It was hard to count how many were there, but Stephanie thought it might be all of them, all seven.

  Then, before she knew what was happening, Martha’s feet had lifted from the pavement.

  She rose into the air, borne aloft by her fairies.

  And she rose further and further up into the sky, her head sagging forward onto her chest. Then the Brights whisked her away over the buildings, like some Gothic, nightmarish version of Mary Poppins.

  Stephanie almost smiled at the thought.

  Martha Poppins.

  Let’s Go Fly A Bright.

  She knew Chester would have found that amusing. Poor twisted Chester, who had been put through so much and lost so much, and been broken by it.

  She found she was staring at his lifeless body, but couldn’t go near it. She had been attracted to him, to his recklessness, and maybe deep down she’d believed that she could help him. Save him from himself. But now she felt nothing for him.

  And she was hit by the realisation that maybe she was like him.

  Broken.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Armagi occupied the entire square in front of the cathedral – there were so many it was standing room only. They waited silently, their compound eyes turned towards the splintered doors at the entrance. As a jet-black Bentley slipped smoothly up the hill from Ludgate Circus, they moved aside to let it through. The car horn was sounding insistently as it drew to a halt.

  ‘Something happening out front,’ Jiggs reported. He was using his periscope to try to see through the cathedral doorway but the massed Armagi made it difficult. ‘I think a limo has just pulled up,’ he said incredulously.

  ‘Give you one guess who that is,’ Drake said, as Elliott peered through her periscope, but couldn’t see very much either.

  ‘Want me to blat them with the big peashooter?’ Jiggs offered, pointing at the aiming controls for the tank’s 120-millimetre cannon. ‘Can’t promise I’ll get anywhere close, but it’s worth a try.’

  They heard the car horn again.

  ‘Don’t bother. They’re not that careless,’ Drake said. ‘They wouldn’t show themselves unless there was something they wanted.’

  ‘Careless … very careless,’ Parry said as he watched the doors of the Bentley being flung open. ‘Look at them – they can’t have any idea we’re up here. They’ve grown overconfident,’ he whispered. He was itching to give the command to his men to open fire, but instead he continued to assess the situation. ‘We’ve got ourselves a full house – the Old Styx, the Rebecca twin, the Styx woman, and …’

  Hermione dragged someone from the back of the car. His face was puffy and bruised, and his eyes barely open. ‘Make an effort, will you?’ Hermione mocked him as she propped him up against the car, his head lolling drunkenly.

  ‘My God! It’s Will!’ Parry whispered. ‘So at least some of them made it back. But he’s been badly roughed up. Just hope he didn’t bring any of that supervirus back with him from the inner world if it was released. That would really put the cat amongst the pigeons with the Yanks.’

  ‘I heard that,’ Bob said indignantly over Parry’s headset. ‘What supervirus?’

  ‘If you’re going to listen in, keep it zipped,’ Parry told him. ‘Now I want all stations to report to me.’

  Parry’s earpiece crackled. ‘Confirmed head shot on Styx woman,’ the first of the soldiers said. Then, one by one the other snipers on the rooftops all around the cathedral began to update Parry.

  ‘Okay, but fingers off triggers,’ he said when they had finished. ‘No action to be taken yet – I repeat – no action,’ he told them over the radio. ‘Just make sure you stay zeroed in on those targets, and await my word.’

  ‘Parry,’ Eddie prompted him. Two Limiters had appeared from nowhere. They caught Will as Hermione pushed him away, then began to drag him in the direction of the cathedral.

  ‘They’re going to parade Will. That means that there must be others from the team in the tank. They’re going to use the boy to bargain with, aren’t they?’ Parry asked, lowering his binoculars to look across at Eddie.

  The former Limiter nodded. ‘That’s what I would do.’

  Strutting around by the car, Hermione began to shout at the cathedral. ‘Hello, hello! Come out to play!’

  Inside the tank, they all heard her voice, and were looking at each other.

  ‘Listen to that. It’s Big Bug, isn’t it?’ Jiggs said. ‘They want a parley. You were right on the money, Drake.’

  ‘I know
you’re there,’ Hermione called. ‘We’ve been tracking that radio signal you’ve very helpfully been putting out.’

  Elliott’s eyes flicked around the floor of the tank until they fell on Will’s Bergen. ‘I’m such an idiot! That’s how they found us so quickly. I forgot the beacon was still switched on.’

  As he continued to peer through the tank’s periscope, Jiggs suddenly gave a small whoop. ‘Yes! I’ve got eyeballs on that Styx woman – the one who escaped before we hit the warehouse. Come on, Drake – if I roll this heap forward a bit, we can do what we failed to do last time, and blow her into next week.’

  Drake had managed to get to his feet so he could take Elliott’s place in the commander’s seat. Before he could say anything, Jiggs swore. ‘Nope, I’ve lost her. That was a golden opportunity,’ he said. He was still peering through his periscope as he breathed in sharply.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Drake mumbled.

  ‘What is it?’ Elliott asked. There was an ominous silence as she waited for one of them to answer.

  ‘Tell me what it is!’ Elliott burst out, not able to stand the suspense any longer.

  Drake took his face away from the periscope, and simply looked at her. ‘Bad news, I’m afraid,’ he said.

  Elliott pushed Drake aside to see. Will was being supported by one of the Limiters, while the other was staring at the tank over the heads of the Armagi. ‘What have they done to him?’ she said.

  ‘Don’t be bashful. Join me out here, won’t you?’ Hermione shouted. ‘Will is dying to see you.’

  Elliott lost sight of Will as the Limiters took him away.

  ‘They’ve moved him,’ she said to Drake. ‘We have to find out what the Styx woman wants.’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ Drake said. ‘There’s no way I’m letting you put a foot outside this tank, let alone outside the cathedral.’

  ‘They’ve got Will out there!’ Elliott yelled at him. She couldn’t stop herself from crying, but then took a breath as she tried to gain control of herself again. ‘The Styx woman might be prepared to do a deal. They always want to do deals.’