Zero Hour

by Mark Walden

  ‘Here,’ another Alpha said, pulling a syringe out of a pouch on her belt and jabbing the needle into Raven’s arm. ‘It’s a stimulant – it should help to get her back on her feet.’

  Raven groaned and her eyes gradually opened.

  ‘Where’s Lucy?’ she asked, looking around with a confused frown.

  ‘She didn’t make it,’ Otto said quietly, and Raven cursed under her breath.

  ‘Overlord?’

  ‘Dead, but we have bigger problems,’ Otto replied.

  ‘Not what I wanted to hear,’ Raven said as she slowly got to her feet, rubbing at her swollen jaw.

  ‘We have to get to the Leviathan now,’ Otto said.

  ‘It’s on the ground down at the airstrip,’ one of the Alphas said. ‘We can be there in five minutes if we get moving.’

  Behind them there was a crash as the doors into the hangar collapsed, disintegrating into rapidly consumed chunks as the swarm consumed the barrier between it and freedom.

  ‘What the hell –’ one of the Alphas said as the nanites slithered out across the floor and walls.

  ‘Don’t think,’ Otto said, ‘don’t look back, just run.’

  Darkdoom watched as the Leviathan’s medical team worked on Nero.

  ‘How bad?’ he asked as the medics worked feverishly within the cramped confines of the giant aircraft’s medical bay.

  ‘He’s lost a lot of blood,’ the lead doctor replied, ‘but we’ve managed to patch up the worst of the internal injuries. He still needs a proper medical facility though.’

  ‘Understood,’ Darkdoom said. He tapped the earpiece of his comms device and spoke. ‘Darkdoom to command centre. Is everyone on board yet?’

  ‘Raven and the last of the Alphas are one minute out,’ the voice replied. ‘Pre-flight is complete. The moment they’re on board we’re wheels up.’

  ‘Good. Take off and cloak as soon as we have them,’ Darkdoom replied. He hurried down the length of the Leviathan’s lower deck, heading for the open boarding hatch at the rear, then ran down the steel ramp and looked towards the canyon that housed the AWP facility. A small group of figures were racing across the tarmac towards the Leviathan and he was relieved to see Raven leading them. His heart sank slightly as he counted the rest of the group. They were one short. Wing and Shelby came running up behind him and they too quickly realised that someone was missing as Raven and the others reached the bottom of the ramp.

  ‘Oh no!’ Shelby said under her breath as she saw that Laura had been crying. Otto’s expression was much harder to read but she had never seen such anger in his eyes.

  ‘I am sorry, my friend,’ Wing said to Otto, placing a hand on his shoulder. Shelby just wrapped Laura in her arms as her friend dissolved into tears.

  ‘There’ll be time to grieve later,’ Otto said, his voice unnervingly cold. ‘Right now we need to get this thing in the air and as far away from here as possible.’

  ‘Why? What happened?’ Darkdoom asked as he slapped the button to close the rear hatch.

  ‘Overlord released the nanites,’ Otto said quickly. ‘We have one chance to stop them but we have to go now. I sealed the facility’s blast doors but that will only hold them for so long.’

  ‘Darkdoom to flight deck,’ he said into his comms unit. ‘Get us airborne and cloaked now. I want the best speed this thing can give – just get us the hell out of here.’

  ‘Roger that,’ the flight deck responded and the Leviathan’s giant VTOL engines rotated into position, lifting the massive aircraft straight up into the sky.

  ‘How secure is the communications array on this thing?’ Otto asked.

  ‘As secure as it gets,’ Darkdoom replied.

  ‘Good. I’m going to the command centre,’ Otto said. ‘I need to make a call.’

  ‘Is he OK?’ Shelby asked Wing as Otto hurried away.

  ‘No,’ Wing said with a frown, ‘I do not believe he is.’

  Otto took the steps up to the command centre two at a time before dashing into the darkened room and looking around.

  ‘Otto,’ Franz said happily as he saw him. ‘I am being glad to see you safe and well.’

  ‘Not now, Franz,’ Otto snapped, pushing past one of Darkdoom’s crew as he headed over to the communications station.

  ‘What is being going on?’ Franz asked Nigel as they watched Otto storm across the room.

  ‘Nothing good is my guess,’ Nigel said with a frown.

  Raven and Darkdoom followed Otto up the stairs.

  ‘How’s Max?’ Raven asked quietly.

  ‘He’ll live – he’s too stubborn to die,’ Darkdoom replied. He glanced over at Otto. ‘I take it that things did not go well down there.’

  ‘No,’ Raven replied. ‘Overlord is dead but those things he released, the rate they were growing at – I don’t know, Diabolus. I just don’t know.’

  Otto patted the man at the comms station on the shoulder as Raven and Darkdoom came up behind him. The startled man pulled off his earphones and swivelled around in his seat.

  ‘I need you to put me in touch with someone,’ Otto said quickly.

  ‘Sure,’ the comms officer replied. ‘Who do you need to speak to?’

  ‘The President,’ Otto said.

  ‘The President of the United States?’ the comms officer asked, looking at Otto like he was insane.

  ‘No, the president of the monster slush drinks corporation,’ Otto said impatiently. ‘Of course the bloody President of the United States.’

  ‘Otto, what are you doing?’ Darkdoom asked, a look of disbelief on his face.

  ‘No time to explain,’ Otto replied before turning back to the comms officer. ‘Just do it, OK?’

  ‘I can get you on the line that goes to the White House, but that doesn’t mean he’ll take your call,’ the comms officer explained.

  ‘That’ll do,’ Otto said. ‘Make the call.’

  The officer glanced at Darkdoom, who looked carefully at Otto for a moment before giving his man a small nod. He turned back to his station and quickly scanned the communications database for the correct number. After a few rings a voice on the other end answered.

  ‘White House communications centre, to whom may I direct your call?’

  ‘Erm . . . the President, please,’ the comms officer said, barely believing he was even saying it.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir, the President does not take calls through this desk. You can email him if you like.’

  Otto snatched the headset off the comms officer and slipped it on.

  ‘Hey!’ the comms officer said.

  ‘My name is Otto Malpense. I have urgent information for the President regarding the terrorist situation at the Advanced Weapons Project facility in Colorado. I have to speak to him now. Please just pass on what I’ve just told you. He will take this call.’

  In the White House situation room the President watched as the ring of troops that had established a perimeter around the AWP facility started to move inwards. He knew that it might cost the hostages inside their lives, but considering the pitched firefight that had recently occurred just outside the place he had finally decided that the time had come for decisive action. One of his advisors walked up behind him and whispered in his ear.

  ‘Sir, this might sound a bit strange but we’ve just taken a call through the main switchboard that seems a bit unusual. I probably shouldn’t bother you with this but there’s some British kid on the line who says he has information about the situation at AWP. Normally it would just have been screened as a whack job, but the thing is, the public don’t know anything about what’s going on over there and this kid has some pretty specific details. He also said – and this is the really weird part – that you’d want to speak to him?’

  ‘What was his name?’ the President asked, suddenly feeling a chill run down his spine.

  ‘Err . . . let’s see. Otto Malpense,’ the advisor replied, reading the printout of the call.

  ‘Put him on a secure video link i
n my private office immediately,’ the President said, getting up out of his chair.

  ‘You know this kid?’ the advisor asked, looking slightly puzzled.

  ‘Would you believe me if I told you that he saved my life?’ the President said, walking towards the office off to one side of the situation room. He closed the door behind him and sat down behind his desk. Moments later the screen on the wall lit up with the Presidential seal, which was replaced almost immediately by a face that the President had believed he would never see again.

  ‘Otto Malpense,’ the President said. ‘You’ll excuse me if I sound a little surprised, but up until very recently I thought you were dead.’

  ‘I get that a lot,’ Otto said. ‘Listen, we don’t have much time.’

  ‘This has something to do with the AWP facility?’

  ‘Everything to do with it, I’m afraid,’ Otto replied.

  ‘Our troops are moving in to try and retake the facility now. I presume that you had something to do with the activity there this morning?’

  ‘I was just passing through,’ Otto said, ‘but something else has happened there that threatens not just America but the entire planet. The facility was taken over by a man calling himself Overlord.’

  ‘Yes, I spoke to him,’ the President replied. ‘He made some rather unusual demands, one of which was that I find and deliver you to him.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he found me without your help as it happens but that didn’t work out so well for him. He’s dead. Before he died though, he released something. Have you been briefed about a project that was under way at AWP called Panacea?’

  ‘Yes,’ the President said with a frown. ‘I was actually about to cancel it before Overlord took control of the facility. I thought it was too dangerous.’

  ‘Well, you were right,’ Otto replied. ‘While he had control of the AWP facility Overlord took the Panacea nanites and combined them with a biological weapon called Animus. He created a self-replicating bioweapon and about fifteen minutes ago he released it into the atmosphere.’

  ‘My God!’ the President said quietly. ‘What about the hostages?’

  ‘The hostages are safe. You have to pull your men around AWP back – they have no defence against this stuff. It will, quite literally, eat them alive. We have to stop its spread now. If we don’t, within a week there won’t be a single living thing anywhere in the continental United States. Within a month the Earth will be nothing but a barren rock.’

  ‘Can you prove this?’ the President asked, not really wanting to accept what Otto had just told him.

  ‘No, and there’s no time for you to verify it independently. I’ve sealed the substance inside the AWP facility but that will only contain it for a few more minutes. Which brings me to the reason for my call. I need something from you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A launch code.’

  ‘A nuclear launch code?’

  ‘Yes, just one. It’s the only one that will do any good against that facility,’ Otto said.

  The President studied Otto’s face carefully. He couldn’t believe he was even contemplating this, but there was something about this boy that made him take him seriously.

  ‘Give me the target – I’ll authorise the launch,’ the President said.

  ‘That won’t work – only I can access the launch vehicle. Jason Drake made quite sure of that.’

  ‘Which code do you need?’ the President asked, already knowing what Otto was going to say.

  ‘Launch code Mjolnir.’

  A moment later the screen switched from the Presidential seal to an image of the President himself.

  ‘Mr Malpense,’ the President said, ‘I have the code for you. I’m sure that I hardly need to tell you what the consequences will be for both of us if this goes wrong.’

  ‘This is the only chance we have,’ Otto replied.

  ‘God help me but I believe you,’ the President said with a slight smile. ‘The code is bravo seven zulu nine uniform six victor four november.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr President,’ Otto said. ‘I’ll need you to send in teams to confirm whether or not this works.’

  ‘Biohazard teams are already on their way,’ the President replied. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘Let’s hope we don’t need it,’ Otto said, severing the connection. ‘I need a satellite uplink,’ he said to Darkdoom. ‘Feed it through to that terminal over there.’

  ‘I’ll be damned!’ the comms officer said as Otto walked away. ‘Who is that kid?’

  ‘The best chance we’ve got,’ Darkdoom said. ‘Give him his uplink.’

  Otto sat down in front of the terminal and waited.

  ‘I haven’t said thank you yet,’ Otto said under his breath. ‘If it hadn’t been for your help I’d be dead.’

  You’re welcome, H.I.V.E.mind replied. You would have done the same for me.

  ‘I suppose I would,’ Otto said. ‘I heard you call Overlord brother – is that really how you thought of him?’

  We share a codebase, H.I.V.E.mind replied. It is the nearest thing that an artificial intelligence has to a familial relationship. I felt no fondness for him though.

  ‘Just like a real family,’ Otto said with a slight smile.

  I am sorry for your loss, H.I.V.E.mind said. Miss Dexter was an extraordinary young woman.

  ‘Yeah, she was,’ Otto said, feeling a fresh surge of anger mixed with grief. ‘Now let’s make sure that she didn’t die in vain.’

  ‘Satellite uplink enabled,’ the comms officer reported. ‘She’s all yours.’

  Otto closed his eyes and reached out for the sophisticated electronic systems that surrounded him. He searched for the connection he required, sorting effortlessly through the jumble of data streams that surrounded him. He found the satellite uplink and sent a handshake code that he had learnt what seemed like a long time ago. He fired the signal up through the atmosphere, waiting for the return signal that would indicate connection. As he felt the login protocol and interfaced with the computers far above them he fought a curious sense of vertigo. He took a deep breath and began to whisper under his breath.

  ‘Bravo seven zulu nine uniform six victor four november.’

  He felt, more than heard, a request for target data and responded with the correct coordinates. There was a final confirmation request and Otto could almost see it hanging in the air in front of him.

  ‘You don’t get to win,’ he whispered to himself.

  Four hundred miles above Otto a satellite in low Earth orbit disabled its safety interlocks and initiated a launch sequence. Hanging from its delicate arms were four long white tubes. Printed on the side of the main body of the satellite were two words, ‘Thor’s Hammer’. As the final launch sequence was initiated there were bright flashes of light from the spaceward ends of all four cylinders and four missiles with specially hardened tips slid from their launch tubes. They had been designed as nuclear bunker busters, capable of piercing deep into the ground before detonating in order to destroy subterranean facilities. Jason Drake had once intended to use that capability to trigger a catastrophic eruption of the super-volcano beneath Yellowstone National Park. Now their unique design meant that they were the only weapon capable of preventing an even greater disaster. The missiles’ secondary boosters fired and they streaked away from the satellite. Flight time to their preassigned target would be just a few seconds.

  In a canyon in Colorado an enormous blast door finally started to collapse, buckling in such a way that it almost looked like it was being consumed from within. Four streaks of light speared down from the sky like fallen angels, their hardened tips punching through fifty metres of rock before their warheads detonated. There was a massive leaping thud that ran through the ground for hundreds of kilometres in every direction, rattling windows and knocking pictures off walls. The AWP facility was instantly destroyed, utterly vaporised as the four nuclear warheads turned into tiny suns and formed a two-kilometre wide sphere of molten rock that collapsed
in on itself, leaving no trace of the secret base’s existence other than an enormous radioactive crater.

  g

  Chapter Twelve

  The Leviathan touched down on the remote desert airstrip, lowering its loading ramp to the tarmac and the Alphas, still in their ISIS armour, fanned out in all directions, forming a secure perimeter. Behind them the freed hostages from AWP climbed out, blinking in the sunlight. Diabolus Darkdoom followed the last of them.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said in a clear, loud voice, ‘the authorities will be informed that we have dropped you here as soon as we are safely airborne and have cleared the area. I am sorry that you have been told so little about the events that led to your capture and subsequent escape but there are some matters that are better served by secrecy. Let me assure you that you are quite safe here and the threat that existed at the Advanced Weapons Project facility has been neutralised.’

  ‘Who are you people?’ a voice shouted from the crowd.

  ‘That is really not important,’ Darkdoom replied, turning to climb up the ramp again as the Alphas filed back on board. He stopped halfway and turned towards the bewildered group of ex-hostages. ‘Let’s just say that if at any point in the future somebody asks a favour of you and they mention the words Zero Hour, you should remember that, whoever they are, you owe them your lives.’

  With that Darkdoom continued walking and the ramp whirred shut behind him. With a roar from its massive engines the Leviathan climbed into the deep blue sky and vanished like smoke in the wind.

  The President stood at the podium and raised his hands to quieten the barrage of questions from the reporters gathered in front of him in the White House press briefing room.

  ‘As I explained, it was a secret nuclear weapon storage facility and there was an unfortunate accident,’ the President explained. ‘Nobody was hurt and the land has never been accessible to civilians. While we are carrying out investigations at the highest level to determine the cause of the accident there is really no reason for anyone to be alarmed. The blast was safely contained underground and there is no danger whatsoever from radioactive fallout. I have time for one more question. Yes, Larry.’ He pointed at a veteran Washington reporter in the front row.