“America, leader of the free world, forever,” Gleeson said with satisfaction.
“Based on what knowledge exactly?” Crowe asked, realizing they were getting side tracked but unable to stop fishing for a little more information.
“The Swords of Babylon,” Gleeson said. “Remember that? Let me refresh your memory. All the power unleased from the tombs on that day came from the weapons of the gods. It destroyed the tombs. But we still have a list of weapons. Weapons that are still out there. The Sword of Mars, for instance. This Doomsday Machine in Egypt. This capstone, we believe, is endowed with the same power as the weapons of the gods. Perhaps it even was one. . .” he shrugged. “It makes sense, with all these other weapons appearing.”
“Disappearing. . .” Crowe said drily.
“Well, yes, but we must find them. Find them all and use them for our own purposes. The Sword of Mars has now gone, but the great capstone is close at hand. Several others that were lost, stolen or traded. What can they do?” He gave her a grin of excitement. “I mean—what can they do?”
Crowe was momentarily shocked at his excitement. She also knew all about the old Tesla devices and how the brilliant engineer and inventor had created immense weapons out of seemingly nothing. Remembering more of the other mysteries from the ancient world she began to wonder just how many might be out there.
“We’ve proven that the old gods were once real,” Digby said.
“No,” Crowe said. “SPEAR did that.”
“As you wish. But, if these gods were once men that inspired courage and leadership and did great deeds, elevating them to deities in the eyes of their fellow men, then maybe their weapons were powerful too. That’s Tempest, Madam Secretary, and Luther is its cutting edge.”
Crowe managed a nod. “You mean bludgeon, I assume?”
Digby smiled. “So long as he crushes whomever we tell him to crush, that’s fine with me.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Of course, FrameHub were gods, they all knew that. Not a single person but a collective, they ruled their kingdom with an iron rod, and their kingdom was the World Wide Web.
FrameHub looked out on the world through liquid crystal displays, monitoring in real time, taking anything and everything that they wanted to. This was the only world they cared about, not the ordinary day that existed above their carefully concealed bunker, beyond the hard concrete walls and outside the network of security systems, barriers, firewalls and next-generation tech that protected their environment.
FrameHub Fellow, codename: Piranha, spoke a word to grab the attention of the collective. It was a “hot word”, something to make the group take notice, as normally they would never speak, lost in their data-filled world as they were.
He waited until they all paused in their work. “Today, is the day.” He adjusted his glasses, feeling foolish, unused to social interaction and hating it. “I have your emails and messages.” They all preferred to email, even those sitting beside each other. “Today, two assignments begin at once. The war games and the Egyptian tombs. I mean . . .” He couldn’t stop a smile. “Isn’t that cool?”
Seven similar-looking geeks grinned back at him: young, enthusiastic, utter geniuses in the computer field and consummate hackers.
Piranha went on: “First the Egyptian tombs game. The hired mercenaries are in place . . .” Several grins and chuckles at that. “We are hoping for success at the first seal, the first level, and hope to move on to the second. If government chatter is anything to go by this could be huge. So many people heading to the unveiling, so many dangerous people, it’ll be fun. Remember when you played Call of Duty for the first time? This is that, in real life.”
More chortling.
Piranha went sober for a moment. “Hiring these men as we do, online, is at best—chancy, but Vladimir, our man in charge, does appear up to the job. And he likes the money. But, of course, it’s not our main mission.”
“But it is a cool one,” Codename: Manta spoke up. “Knowledge is power. And our ultimate goal is power. This is perfect.”
“Agreed, Manta. We will follow the clues and own the machine. As you say, knowledge is power.”
“We must stay hidden,” Barracuda fretted. “Off the radar. At the moment, nobody knows we even exist.”
“Of course, it’s better that way. Don’t worry, we will. And now for our real life war game.”
They were interested, these vicious, distant gods. In one stroke they could cripple a town or a city, shut down a bank, lose a man’s money, change a woman’s entire life; but here they sat—eager and hopeful about the outcome of a new dream.
“Everything’s in place, but we all play our part. Moray? You have Turkey. Orca and Manta, you have Greece. I’ll take Egypt along with Barracuda and the rest are backup. All right?” He was desperate to get out of the mini-spotlight.
“There is one other,” Moray said slowly. “The approach should be made quickly.”
Piranha hesitated, caught off guard. “Karin Blake? I know we agreed to approach and offer her to be a part of this, but I don’t agree that now is the right time.”
“I do,” Moray said.
The collective spoke up, as they rarely did, and came down on the side of Moray. The approach to Karin Blake would have to be made.
“Encrypt it well,” Piranha said. “We want her because she’s our equal. It will do no good to let her know who and where we are.”
Moray glared as if insulted. Piranha realized what he’d said and shrugged in apology. He rushed ahead to get it finished and hopefully avoid any more physical confrontations.
“Let’s go. Turkey, Greece and Egypt will be ransomed for our pleasure, our war game. Just for fun, because we are FrameHub and we do what the hell we want. Three countries threatened, the first to come up with the ransom wins. Are we ready?”
“Can’t wait to see what happens to the ones that don’t.” Barracuda rubbed his hands together happily.
Piranha stared. “They will be destroyed,” he said carefully. “We all agreed to that, Barracuda.”
“I know, I know.” Barracuda waved it away. “I was speaking metaphorically. Like . . . I can’t wait to watch!”
“Me too,” Mantra echoed.
As did the entire collective.
“The two losers will suffer total network destruction. Countrywide commotion. Uproar. Riots. Death. It will be war games, for real. Roads blocked, hospitals disrupted. Governments chasing ghosts. And when it’s all done, we will be millionaires several times over.”
He watched for reactions. There were none. This collective didn’t need money. It had everything it needed right here in this room. Because the outside world didn’t exist for them, the actions they perpetrated in it meant very little. Piranha knew this made them the most dangerous collective alive.
“FrameHub is go.” He grinned. “Make ready the ransom demands. Don’t forget, we expect them to ignore the initial communication and wait for something more . . . persuasive. Moray, you ready that. We’ll need it prepared for short notice.”
“And the Egyptian game?” Moray asked. “Are we fully prepped there?”
“Oh, yes. Along with the American government, the British, Mossad and China, it seems. Everyone wants a sniff inside Amenhotep’s tomb. I imagine there will be others too—unknowns. Our mercenaries will surely earn their money.”
“Joking aside,” Barracuda said. “We should ready the secondary option. With so many players involved in the game tonight it will be messy even for us.”
Piranha nodded. “Agreed. So . . . let the games begin.”
CHAPTER SIX
Whilst Crouch arranged for a discreet flight out of Romania, the SPEAR team continued to debate the rights and wrongs of all that had happened and what they were about to do.
“This Crouch can facilitate us all?” Kenzie asked, watching the newcomer work.
Drake nodded firmly. “You haven’t met him before, but I worked alongside him for years. Alicia too. He�
�s the best connected person I’ve ever known. Someone once said he had more connections than British Telecom. I would say he’s one of a handful of people in the world right now that could pull this off.”
“And why didn’t we call him first?”
Drake made a face. “It was on my mind, but we’d hardly settled on a plan yet.”
“What of Lauren?” Smyth fretted gruffly. “You all happy with her leaving?”
Dahl squared up to the soldier. “We’ve been through this and more than once. If you feel so badly, Smyth—” he nodded toward the door “—go after her.”
The other bits of conversation stuttered as people sensed conflict. Smyth’s face was a clash of emotion; the soldier being pulled every which way. In the end though, surely nothing needed saying. Lauren had made her decision without duress; it was technically correct that she was innocent; also correct that their best chance lay with her being inside the capitol. Smyth didn’t like it, but she had forced him to live with it.
“Crap.” He walked over to the coffee machine and began to pour.
Drake watched Crouch make several calls. He trusted the man implicitly, despite Alicia’s odd misgiving, or maybe because of them. It was an odd day when Alicia didn’t show signs of mistrust. He saw now that she was happy to be moving on and wondered if, at her core, she really wanted to settle down with a soldier like him. The rest of the team were almost enjoying the anonymous break, he was sure, at least for a little while.
Maybe not Dahl. The Swede had been facing the toughest decision for a while. Johanna, his wife, was wavering between divorce and reconciliation, keeping Dahl guessing. Kenzie had taken a shine to the man, offering much more. Drake wouldn’t get involved unless he was asked. It was the way with them.
As for the others—Hayden was trying again with Mano Kinimaka, aware that her words and actions of the past few months had been unnecessarily hurtful. The Hawaiian, always easy-going and loyal, took it in the best possible way whilst looking more than a little confused. Kenzie was being Kenzie—in the short time he’d known her, Drake had never fully trusted her, and whilst he saw her good heart and how useful she could be to the team he still couldn’t bring himself to fully trust her. The deck on Kenzie had yet to be fully played.
Yorgi. The Russian thief was quiet as always; a part of the team but remaining aloof. He may have killed his parents in cold blood but Drake blamed them for the young thief’s state of mind. He would never recover, but still a trip out to that ice-cold Russian field stood firmly in their future.
And then there was Mai Kitano. With her personal life settling of late along with her grief at being forced to kill a low-key Yakuza player and then confront his daughter, Mai was taking it easy. Drake thought she might be scared to show up on anyone’s radar for fear of something else terrible happening to her or her family. Grace was fine though, living in Tokyo. Drake saw Mai passing time, probably hoping the next big event might finally turn out to be something good.
The team had been through hell these past years, no less recently with the attentions of Tyler Webb and his cache of secrets. Their current situation prevented them for searching for Webb’s motherlode, and of the few he’d revealed all but one was out in the open.
One of you is dying.
The toughest one of all. Drake didn’t want to believe it, but so far all of Webb’s statements had proven correct. He shrugged the moment of pessimism away, looking over as Crouch finally finished up and walked to the center of the room.
“Now that’s a mix of good and bad news,” the man said. “If ever I’ve heard one.”
The conversation died and every pair of eyes switched to him.
“Problem?” Dahl asked.
“Not immediate, but . . .” Crouch shook his head, clearly rattled. “First the good news. The plane is ready and fuelled close to Avram Airport. We have a private airfield nearby and a Cessna waiting. If we make haste now we can be in the air within the hour.”
“Not sure if anyone has asked yet,” Kinimaka said, “but when is this event?”
“Tomorrow night,” Crouch said. “We have time to fly in and get settled. Buy you lot some nice threads.”
“And the invites?” Drake imagined it would be hard rustling up ten invites at short notice.
“Already done,” Crouch admitted. “Days ago.”
“You know someone in the Egyptian secret service?” Dahl guessed. “And trust them completely? Our lives depend on it. We aren’t paparazzi-plagued celebrities, but then I guess people are hunting us down.”
“I covered it,” Crouch told them. “My responsibility. So,” he stared at Alicia. “Behave.”
“You talking to me, bro?”
“Oh, yes I certainly am. My reputation is at stake.”
Alicia made a point of staring askance at Kenzie. “It’s not me you need to worry about. It’s the sword maiden here.”
Crouch held up a hand. “All right, we can discuss that later. I have to say I’m expecting this to work, hoping we can end this threat and then get our heads together to help you all return to the fold. I have contacts that whisper in the President’s ear. I was hopeful.”
Drake cleared his throat. “Is this the bad news, mate?”
“Until earlier today I was pretty confident I could help bail you idiots out,” Crouch said. “Now . . . I’m wondering how many funerals I may have to attend.”
Dahl sat up. “Excuse me?”
“Luther,” Crouch said. “You may never have heard of him but the Americans have one giant ace up their sleeve. This man . . . he’s retro dynamite. A throwback to the dark ages. A warrior in the old sense of the word.”
“I’ve heard of Luther,” Hayden said quietly. “You’re saying they sent him after us?”
“I am. It’s confirmed. Whatever this splinter group in the American government is planning, it must be huge. Game changing. Using Luther for anything less would be like throwing a wrecking ball at a wall made of foam.”
“This Luther,” Dahl said. “Can he be stopped?”
Hayden took a deep breath. “Unlikely. He’s a bloodhound and doesn’t stay on the grid. He’ll receive no fresh updates, no communications. That’s one of the reasons he’s so dangerous and our government rarely resorts to using him. Luther will chase down his target, execute his orders, and then return home without making contact in between.”
“Well,” Drake said, “he doesn’t know where we are now. We’ll pop up in Egypt and then be gone.” He shrugged. “I suggest we worry about him later.”
Crouch gave him a look as if to say: “have you gone mad?”, but then shrugged. “The die is cast,” he agreed. “Sooner or later you will meet Luther and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Alicia unfolded her legs, rising to her feet. “I do like the sound of this guy,” she said. “He’s my type. And if I’m being honest—his name rings a bell.”
Drake stood with her. “Bloody hell, Alicia, do not tell me you’ve shagged him.”
“Well . . .”
“That’s a long list to sift through,” Mai said. “Give her a few days.”
“I’d remember,” Alicia said. “I’m sure I’d remember a man like that. Does he have a—”
Drake quickly tuned her out, knowing from experience that she was about to get even more explicit. Crouch’s reply: “how the hell should I know?” confirmed it. He wandered over to Dahl and met the Swede’s eyes.
“You happy with all this?”
“Egypt? I think we have to. We’re trusting Crouch’s judgment but he hasn’t steered us wrong before. Lauren will be on the inside in a day or two. I guess we should try to stay off this Luther’s radar as long as we can.”
“You scared of him?” Drake leaned in, playing a little mischief.
“Me?” Dahl protested. “I’m not even sure what the word means, pal.”
Drake thought he was probably telling the truth. “You’d impress me more if you were at least a little scared.”
“Fuck off, Drake.”
Crouch motioned that they should get packing. The team split and then met up again ten minutes later, backpacks ready and faces set. Hayden led them out into the cold and toward the vehicles, most of them taking a last look around what had become, for them at least, the only quiet safe haven they’d known in years.
On the run we find peace, Drake thought with twisted irony. What kind of soldiers have we become?
A valley fell away before them, across which a brisk wind blew, bringing with it the scent of flower-strewn earth. Drake took it all in, and then they were inside the cars, fiddling with the heating and the satnav, settling in for a short drive during in which they were unable to relax.
Some time later they were in the air, not sad to leave Transylvania but unsettled as to what may happen next. As if the splinter group hadn’t disturbed their lives enough there was now the threat of a supposed caveman called Luther. The plane rushed them all to Egypt, landing in an early darkness which couldn’t have been planned better. Under the cover of night, they exited and ran down an empty runway to a quiet hangar.
Crouch called in for the car, which met them ten minutes later and transported them to a hotel in Cairo. Busy, hazardous and loud, the city streets were a harsh reminder of life after the tranquil peace they had experienced this last few days.
“A few hours’ sleep,” Crouch said, “and then we need to prep for tomorrow night. For the gala. Planning and research will be everything because, as we know, it’s not just the whole world watching.”
“It’s Big Brother himself,” Drake nodded, “in all his meanest guises.”
“If anyone can do it, we can,” Hayden said. “We’re the best.”
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