Giorgos didn’t know it but he was the youngest passenger on Flight TOM4762. In a cheerful mood, he and his family were taking up two rows of seats in the aeroplane. They were cheerful for two reasons. They’d seen Giorgos’s cousin marry a nice English man in Oxford and now they were going home to Cyprus. Giorgos was smiling because he was remembering the English rain drenching the wedding party after the ceremony and his mum drinking too much at the reception. She was always funny when she’d had a few drinks.
The plane banked sharply to the right. Instead of continuing its climb into the grey sky, it lurched and began to descend. Giorgos noticed his mum exchanging a glance with the other adults. She was more surprised than scared.
As the aeroplane turned towards the coast and continued to descend, the grown-ups looked less puzzled and more panicked. With a strange feeling in his stomach, Giorgos gazed out of the window. The undercarriage almost seemed to be scraping the flat farmlands of the Suffolk countryside. He didn’t know much about flying, but he knew the ground shouldn’t be so close and he could sense everyone’s nervousness.
Forcing a smile, his mother leaned close and spoke in English. “Everything’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”
Pointing out of the window, he replied, “I see two more planes.”
One was flying low, just like their own. The other was much smaller and higher. A jet like the ones in war films.
There was a hurried announcement in English that Giorgos didn’t quite catch, but the look of horror on his mum’s face told him they were in trouble.
“Right,” she said to him, struggling to hold back tears. “We’ve got to get into the brace position.”
“What’s that?”
“Like this,” she said, bending over so her forehead rested against the seat in front. She also cradled her head in her arms.
“Why?”
“Because...the stewardess said so. Because we’re too near the ground.”
“But you said it’d be all right.”
“Let’s get you into the right position, love, then it will be.”
Eli tapped at the keypad and then looked up. “That’s it! I have freed the first system.”
On the Suffolk coast, unseen by Jordan and Eli, the aeroplane bound for Atlanta peeled away from the coast under the control of its pilot and zoomed out over the North Sea. It almost skimmed the waves. But it was safe and it climbed back into the sky.
“One more,” Angel said to Jordan urgently. “Flight TOM4762.”
“TOM4762 as well,” he roared at Eli.
“I know.”
Chilling Jordan, Angel said, “You’ve got thirty seconds before I give the order to fire.”
“Thirty seconds,” Jordan told Eli. “Any hope?”
“None at all.”
“There’s got to be something...”
Eli shook his head. “With hurrying come mistakes.”
“We need more time,” Jordan said into the phone.
“There isn’t any,” Angel replied abruptly.
Eli was working as quickly as he could: typing, shutting down systems, entering codes. But he was only human. He didn’t stand a chance.
In a broken voice, Jordan said to his chief, “Sorry. We’re too...”
Angel had broken off. He was giving orders to someone else.
On Flight TOM4762, Giorgos could not sit still in the brace position. Silently, he uncurled himself and sneaked a look outside. He saw the other big Boeing veer away over the sea. His aeroplane was keeping to its course, over fields, towards some buildings on the edge of the land. To Giorgos, it didn’t look like an airport.
After a few more seconds, movement caught his eye. The fighter jet had fired a missile. Again, it was just like he’d seen in films. This time, though, the weapon wasn’t hurtling towards some fictional enemy. It was coming directly at him. It was coming directly at a real plane full of innocent passengers.
They weren’t in the brace position in case of an accident. It was in case of an attack.
Giorgos let out a gasp and he shouted at his mum. “Look!”
“Keep your head down,” she muttered.
“No! Look!”
Their startled faces at the window saw the incoming rocket, horribly close. Elsewhere on the plane, some people were screaming. In an instant, Flight TOM4762 was no longer recognizable as an aeroplane. In a giant explosion, it became a flying fireball. Breaking into flaming fragments, it plummeted towards the coast, one hundred metres short of Sizewell nuclear power station.
Kate was panting when she returned. On her own. “She gave me the slip. Sorry.”
“Oh, no!” Jordan had just lost 214 passengers. Now he’d lost Short Circuit as well. Talking to Eli Kennington, he said, “UnTrojan me now. Quickly. I’m not letting her get away. Not after what she’s done.”
“What has she done?” Kate asked. “You look...shaken.”
Shaken was hardly the word. He felt terrible. He felt like a failure. And he felt angry.
“A plane’s just been shot down, all because of her. More than two hundred people.”
Kate gazed for a while at the ground. Then, unable to make eye contact with Jordan, she looked out across the field where Raven had made her getaway. “I wish I’d hit her harder. She wouldn’t have got up again.”
Taking him by surprise, Jordan’s fine sense of smell returned. At once, he detected aviation fuel again. “That’s better,” he said to Eli. Talking to Kate, he added, “Maybe she’s nicked another car by now.”
Kate shook her head. “She’ll have worked out Angel’s monitoring reports of stolen cars. More likely, she’ll jump on a train.”
“And go where?” Jordan asked. “She won’t go home. She’ll know agents will be waiting for her.”
Kate sighed. “I don’t know.”
“I hope she hasn’t got a plane ticket.”
“She won’t leave the country. She wants to ruin this one first.”
“We’ve got her computer. My guess is she’ll go where she can get another one.” Jordan’s robotic arm jerked stiffly into life. It came up level with his shoulder as if he were making some strange salute.
Eli laughed happily.
In an instant, Jordan reclaimed control over it. He shook it, bent it at the elbow, flexed the wrist and made a fist. “Thanks.”
“I will release your other features now,” Eli said to him.
“Good.”
Eli typed some more and the disconnected BCI in Jordan’s head came to life. It felt as if someone had just switched on a wireless broadband router. He was no longer cut off from the web.
“Hey!” Eli cried. “Someone’s trying to network with this laptop.”
“Raven!” Jordan lifted his right arm and smashed it down on the computer. He shattered the keypad, crushed the hard drive and put a sizeable dent in the bonnet of the Toyota. “I bet she was trying to take a copy of the Trojan programs.”
“And download them somewhere else so she could carry on,” Kate added.
“Maybe she was successful,” said Eli.
For a moment, Jordan stared at Eli. Then he said, “She can’t be far away and she must be in front of a computer right now.”
“A computer shop or an internet café?” Kate suggested.
“I know,” Jordan replied. “I’m online. Searching. Yes! There’s an internet café at the airport. That’s the nearest. South Terminal. Come on!” He looked at the digger and two cars blocking the Jaguar’s way. “It’ll be quicker to use your car, Kate.”
They jumped into the Toyota and Kate put her foot down. In four minutes, she screeched to a halt outside the South Terminal and parked illegally right outside the entrance. Bewildered, Eli didn’t move as the other two got out and dashed inside. Jordan glanced up and down the concourse. He hesitated only for a moment.
His GPS chip told him exactly where he was and an augmented reality site gave him directions to the internet café. It overlaid the information on his vision.
“This way,” he called, sprinting to the right and wincing at the twinges in his ankles and knees.
There had not yet been an official announcement about the fate of Flight TOM4762. No one had been told that AM5699 was returning to the airport. Gatwick looked almost normal, except that the departure and arrivals boards were beginning to show a lot of delays. The only sign of an alert was the appearance of two heavily armed guards at every check-in desk.
Together, Jordan and Kate dodged passengers, their luggage and check-in queues. They hurtled past shops, car hire kiosks, foreign exchange booths and travel information desks. They dashed up the escalator to Gatwick Village. At the far end, they ran into the internet café. And Raven was not there.
Jordan took a breath and said, “She’s been here.”
“How do you know?”
He sniffed the air. “Her perfume.” Straight away, he spun round and stared down the length of the hall.
“What now?” asked Kate.
“A man somewhere just shouted, ‘That woman’s swiped my laptop!’”
“Did he? I didn’t hear…”
“Look!”
A middle-aged man was chasing Raven as she dashed for the stairs and exit. He didn’t stand a chance of catching her.
But Jordan could not afford to let her get away. If she’d downloaded her Trojan programs onto a memory stick and snatched a working laptop, she’d need only a few minutes to install the software before she was back in business. Devastating business.
Jordan took off.
26 FLYING SPARKS
Raven raced down the stairs and along the concourse. She probably didn’t realize that Jordan was not far behind. Further back, Kate ran as fast as she could, but she couldn’t keep up with Jordan’s pace.
Outside, Raven came to an abrupt halt and stared at Eli Kennington with an expression of surprise. He was standing beside a white Toyota, watching as a security officer attached a rope to its rear. The uniformed attendant was preparing to hoist it onto a pick-up truck and remove it as a security risk. The truck’s engine idled as the winch reversed the car slowly up the ramp.
When Eli spotted Raven, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. For a moment, neither of them said anything to each other. Then Eli blurted out, “You stole...”
Raven wasn’t going to start a conversation. She’d probably worked out that Kennington would not be on his own. No doubt guessing that Jordan and Kate were nearby, she took one look at the man operating the winch and made for him. He was concentrating on dealing with the illegally parked Toyota so he didn’t see her until it was too late. With all her strength, she swung the laptop at him and the edge thwacked into the side of his head, just above his ear. Instantly, he was dazed and confused. Raven yanked him away from the controller, jumped into the cab and jabbed her foot down on the accelerator.
Emerging from the terminal’s main entrance, Jordan took in the situation at once. He hurtled towards the wagon as it screeched away from the kerb, not quite piggybacking Kate’s car. He couldn’t run fast enough to draw alongside the cab. The best he could do was to reach the back. The ramp was grating on the tarmac, sending out sparks, and the front wheels of the Toyota were still on the road. Held only loosely by the rope, the car was swinging dangerously and unpredictably from side to side. Yet jumping on board was Jordan’s sole chance of hanging on to Raven. If he got his timing wrong, though, he could easily trap a leg. If he waited too long, she’d accelerate away from him.
He dived at the rear of the wagon, scrabbling to get a grip. He put his back against the left-hand side and his right foot on the Toyota to stop it slamming into him. Then he edged up the gap towards the winch and the cab. At every twist and turn in the road, he was jolted and pummelled, but still he clambered gradually up the steep ramp.
The wagon left the airport grounds and gathered speed along a single-carriageway.
The floor of the truck levelled out at the top, so the rear of the Toyota was not as free to sway into him. He grabbed hold of a rail attached to the back of the cab. He was safer there, but he had no obvious way of getting to the driver. He wondered if he should simply wait until she stopped, but he was eager to complete his mission. He didn’t want to give Raven any more opportunities to escape.
He climbed up the wall of the cab, resting his feet on the rail. He could see right over it now and the wind blasted his face as Raven tore along a minor road at high speed. His hair streamed out behind him and his jacket ballooned like a small sail. Instinct made him keep his head down as the truck went under a low bridge though there was ample clearance. Then he decided what he had to do.
Eleven days ago in an idle moment, Jordan had wondered whether he could punch his way through the roof of a car in an emergency. Now he had an emergency and he was about to find out. But instead of bursting out of a car, he was going to try to break in through the top of the cab.
Holding on with his left hand, he raised his artificial arm. Flaps of silicone skin, ripped by the rope, dangled from his hand. Summoning strength and determination, he jabbed downwards with the fist. The metallic roof bent inwards and a slight gash appeared at the bottom of the dent. The small slit was enough to give him hope. He lifted up his arm again.
The wagon skidded round a corner. A clear attempt to throw him off the roof. The whole vehicle lurched and Kate’s car smacked into the side-wall.
Jordan gave up on the idea of a second punch and instead clung on tightly. It was like being on a flimsy raft tossed by huge waves.
Raven turned the steering wheel violently again, veered into a field and accelerated. Bouncing across the farmland, she tried to shake the intruder down from his perch above her head.
Jordan’s body lifted at one moment and then bashed down onto the top of the cab the next. It didn’t get any easier when the wagon went up a small slope, took off and almost immediately crashed down onto a stony track. The Toyota yanked on the rope and the winch gave way a little. Even more sparks sprayed from the edge of the ramp as it clattered over the stones.
Deciding that, sooner or later, the wild fairground ride would get the better of him, Jordan changed his tactics. As quickly as he could, he slid off the cab and grabbed the winch to steady himself. In danger of being crushed by the swaying Toyota, he made his way round the back of the pick-up truck, grasping the side for stability. Slowly, he neared the front of Kate’s car. Perilously close to the lip of the ramp and the rough track, he clutched the side with his left hand and ducked down. Almost immediately, the car swung at him and struck his head. He lost his grip and fell flat on the metallic ramp. He had no choice but to keep as low as possible so, when the car slithered from side to side, it would move right over him.
He tried to concentrate on the underneath of the Toyota. Lifting his head to look down the length of it, the exhaust system hit his face but at least he spotted what he needed. A large flat area near the rear was the bottom of the fuel tank. A tube led from it to the engine. Wasting no time, he grabbed the pipe with his bionic hand and wrenched it from its fixing near the engine block. At once, petrol began to flow out of the broken end and trickle down the ramp.
Jordan rolled over and came out between the front and rear wheels. Sparks were still flying where the edge of the ramp scraped over the stones. He stood up and clambered onto the side of the wagon. Desperate to jump clear, he muttered a curse. The pocket of his jacket had caught on a post. He had no time to disentangle it. He yanked on the jacket, ripping the leather. Then he leaped into the air and away from the wagon. He landed with a thud at the side of the track. His legs crashed down on stone, but his upper body was cushioned by grass. Even so, he grunted with the impact.
Back up on his knees, he watched the pick-up wagon bumping along the track. He hoped the jolting would encourage more petrol to spill. For several seconds, though, he thought his strategy had failed. A mass murderer was getting away and it was his fault. But the fuel needed time to run down the slope. It needed time to meet a f
lying spark.
A few more seconds passed. The truck was nearing a country lane. Soon, Raven would turn onto a proper road and put her foot down. Before she reached the junction, though, it happened. Nothing dramatic at first. An unstable yellow glow appeared at the back of the vehicle. The front end of the Toyota had caught fire. Silently, the flames followed the flow of fuel to the tank. The trickle down the ramp acted as a liquid fuse. Jordan held his breath.
There was a loud whoosh and Kate’s car exploded.
The Toyota jumped briefly into the air and then crashed down again onto the truck, spilling fuel and engulfing it in greedy flames. The wagon came to a blazing halt. The sudden inferno stripped the exterior paint from both vehicles and quickly consumed the car’s seats, carpets and plastic interiors. Anything flammable was going up in smoke.
A second blast and a huge roaring column of flame told Jordan that the fire had sneaked into the truck’s own fuel supply. His finely tuned hearing also distinguished a terrible scream.
Jordan was not alone in watching the technician removing the skin – or what remained of it – from his right hand and beginning the diagnostics program. Someone else was very keen to learn about the technology that lay underneath the damaged layer of silicone.
Jordan was distracted from the degloving and testing procedure. His mind was on other things. His mood was inconsistent. One moment, he was perky and pleased. The next, he was down. He’d neutralized Short Circuit, but he’d lost a lot of innocent people on the way. “If only I’d got to Gatwick quicker...” Talking to Angel, he said, “I want to see a list of everyone who died on that flight to Cyprus. Right now, they’re just a number. 214.”
Angel denied his request. “I’ll give you a list of the 304 people you saved, if you like. They’re real people as well, not just a big number.”
“They’ll name the dead online.”
Nodding, Angel replied, “I’m sure they will. But there won’t be a list of the ones on Flight AM5699 – who are living, thanks to you.”
“And to Eli.”
They both looked at Unit Red’s newest recruit. Eli Kennington wasn’t really interested in the people, living or dead. He was savouring the technology around him, like a kid with an excess of birthday presents. Right now, he was fixated by the automated testing of Jordan’s robotic functions.
Cyber Terror Page 18