Webster City

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Webster City Page 22

by Peter Menadue

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  While artillery fire boomed in the distance, Davidson crossed the circular marble hall to the open elevator. He stepped over Corporal Nisbett's body, pressed a button and descended to the administration wing. As he got out, missiles or artillery shells screamed overhead and huge explosions rocked the building.

  He raced down the long corridor with offices on both sides, past several terrified civilians who'd just arrived for work. They were too focused on the explosions to notice him.

  He strode through a large marble hall lined with Old Masters and saw a ten-man squad of Palace Guards striding towards him. The Corporal in front ordered them to stop and pointed his rifle at Davidson. "Halt".

  Davidson stopped and immediately took command of the situation. "You have no right to stop me. I am on urgent business."

  The Corporal looked uncertain and afraid. "What business?"

  "I have just spoken to the Chancellor. The Freedom Alliance has launched a major assault. He has lost contact with the High Command and wants me to deliver an urgent message. Now, get out of my way."

  "I can't let you go."

  "Why not?"

  "I have to speak to my superior first."

  A black scowl. "No time for that. This is an emergency. The Chancellor only has two bodyguards. Go up to his office and make sure he's safe."

  "I have to ..."

  "You mean, you will leave the Chancellor in danger?"

  The Corporal's forehead buckled and he nodded slowly. "Umm, alright." He turned to his men. "Follow me."

  Davidson watched them disappear around the corner and hurried towards the palace entrance. He soon reached the hall lined with portraits of Alexander Webster and the other Chancellors. An explosion, quite close, shook dust off the ceiling and made him flinch.

  He'd almost reached the end of the hall when the enormous Sergeant he saw at the main entrance entered it and headed towards him. Davidson set a course to avoid him. However, the Sergeant veered across and blocked his path.

  They stopped face-to-face and the Sergeant, eyes leaking tension, gave him a suspicious stare. "Where's Corporal Nesbitt? He didn't return."

  "He's guarding the Chancellor, in his office."

  Where are you going?"

  "The Chancellor's lost contact with the High Command. I'm taking an urgent message."

  "What message?"

  "It's top secret."

  The Sergeant glanced down at Davidson's chest and his eyes widened slightly. "Alright. Be on your way."

  As the Sergeant moved past him, Davidson looked down at his chest and saw several large specks of blood. Oh, God.

  The Sergeant took two steps and spun around, raising his pistol. However, Davidson was already crouched with his pistol drawn, waiting. His three shots hit the Sergeant in the chest and threw him backward. The Sergeant's big skull made a loud thud as it hit the marble floor and his pistol skittered ten yards away.

  Fortunately, because of the racket that the Freedom Alliance was making outside and the commotion inside, nobody else seemed to hear the shots. However, Davidson didn't wait around for confirmation. He strode out of that hall and down a flight of stairs to the entrance hall, where half-a-dozen worried- and uncertain-looking guards stood beside the metal detectors. They weren't interested in an ISB major who was stupid enough to venture into the maelstrom outside and didn't try to stop him.

  The Freedom Alliance wasn't supposed to have helicopters. But when he reached the portico several unusual-looking choppers - bulkier than the standard model - swooped past the huge statue of Alexander Webster and fired missiles at the Palace and the Hall of Guardians. The explosions almost knocked him off his feet. Several artillery shells landed on the plaza and shook the ground.

  To his relief, despite the aerial assault, the Cadillac was still parked outside the main gate with Helen Watkins behind the steering wheel, nervously watching the tumult around her.

  He jumped in the passenger seat next to her. "Thanks for waiting."

  She turned, startled. "Carl - what happened?"

  "The Chancellor's dead; the Colonel's dead; Edward Mellon got away."

  "Who's Mellon?"

  Her ignorance didn't surprise him. Mellon was a shadowy figure. "The Commander of the Palace Guard. I think he'll try to release the Agent Pandora. We've got to find him. Did any cars leave the Palace in the last ten minutes?"

  "Only a black Cadillac like this one. Had a guy behind the wheel; no passengers."

  "What did the guy look like?"

  "Umm, gray hair, thin face, I think."

  "That's him. Which way did he go?"

  "South, towards Salk Boulevard."

  If Mellon kept heading up that boulevard he would pass the army base and the air base, and then reach the South Gate. Was he trying to leave through the South Gate because the Agent Pandora canisters were hidden outside the City? That was unlikely. Further, the South Gate would be contested ground right now. The Freedom Alliance certainly wouldn't let the Commander of the Palace Guard pass through its lines unmolested.

  Maybe Mellon was heading for the army base or the air base.

  The air base. Davidson remembered seeing a heavy bomber jacket at Professor Fisher's house. Maybe Fisher had planned to release the Agent Pandora from a small plane to ensure it spread far and wide. And maybe Mellon was now going to step in and perform that task. Davidson had no other theory of what Mellon intended. "Head for the air base, now."

  "Why?"

  "I think Mellon's going to release Agent Pandora from a small plane."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes," he said with more confidence than he felt.

  "You think Mellon is evil enough to do that?"

  "When the Chancellor was alive, Mellon was the second most evil man in Webster City. He just got a promotion."

 

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