“And how exactly would you know this?” Jamie-Lyn asked.
“Because I’m on the inside, and I have been for a while now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Inside of what?” Jesus said with an irritated flap of his arms.
“Wilson Fontaine,” Link replied with a small smile. “I’ve been working for him for a while now. Recon missions, industrial espionage. I even put in the security systems at his building, and most recently, I was hired to work for that little cupcake on TV to follow you guys around.”
“So?” Crimson snapped.
“So I know what’s coming your way, and trust me it’s not pretty.”
“Give us details or I’ll have Doc just rip them out of your head,” Jesus threatened.
“Well there’s a whole week’s worth of exposés coming, starting with the bullshit explosion footage.”
“We saw the photos,” Doc acknowledged.
“Yeah, but there’s video coming. A whole movie showing our big green friend here going batshit crazy. The only reason it’s not out yet is because the special effects guys can’t quite get the mocked-up footage right. It’s annoying the hell out of Fontaine, let me tell you. He’s not a man who tolerates delays. Someone’s getting done for that, and I don’t mean fired. After that, they’re going wide with Havencrest.”
“What about Havencrest?” Jamie-Lyn asked.
“Your great victory… the win to end the war. The ultimate triumph that ended SOUL is about to be blown apart. They’re going to say that you guys bungled it, that you caused the explosion and killed dozens of innocent men, women and children. The words ‘genocide’ and ‘war crimes’ are about to go viral.”
“And why should we believe you?” Jesus enquired, keeping his poker face.
“Because like I said, I’m here to help.”
“Why?”
“Because… well, because I want in. Look, this is all I ever wanted. Now I know that you’re not exactly what you were, obviously…,” Link said, wafting his arms around at the base, “but when I was younger, I had a bad case of hero worship, superhero worship, if you like. You guys were my idols, even after you rejected me,” he added pointedly. “But now I’m here to help. You have to trust me. Dr Quantum here can poke around my head as much as she wants. I don’t have any secrets.”
“What else?” Jamie-Lyn asked quickly before the others could interject.
“You need more?” Link exclaimed. “Well, they’re going to pull you all apart on a personal level, make sure that all of your creditability is completely destroyed, so that there will be no one to push back.”
“How exactly?”
“There’s going to be a story about the Doc here, a story accusing her of sexually assaulting a young student, an assault that was covered up for her. I’ve seen some of the footage; it’s very convincing.”
“Who?” Doc exclaimed.
“Does it matter?” Link asked genuinely. “I mean, I know it’s fake, you know it’s fake, but after it airs, do you think that anyone is going to care?”
“The school would.”
“Well, your old principal is retiring next week to a lake house in Geneva. Oh, and the school’s getting a new science wing built. Of course, you won’t find Fontaine linked to any of it, but it’s his money, trust me.”
“What else? What about me?” Jamie-Lyn asked with trepidation.
“Chris Adams.”
“My old station manager? What about him? What did I do to him?”
“You murdered him.”
Jamie-Lyn stood in shocked silence for a moment, waiting to see if the newcomer was joking. He wasn’t.
“Chris is dead?” she finally gasped.
“Murdered… him and his wife. The police will find your prints at the scene, no doubt on the murder weapon, too, along with a bunch of other evidence.”
“I suppose they’ll hang me with the Queen’s Guard,” Jesus stated rather than asked.
“Off-the-books operations, embezzlement, assassinations – basically a unit gone rogue. I’m guessing that if you haven’t found out already, then you soon will, that you’re being cut loose by every friend you thought you had.”
“What about me?” Crimson asked with a grin. “What lies do they have to tell about me?”
“Do they really need any?” Link replied. “I mean, as far as I can tell, you’re the only actual guilty one here. They don’t need to make up shit on you, my friend.”
“Fair enough.” Crimson nodded.
“The rest of you are going to be buried, your reputations smeared beyond redemption before you get to even try and tell your side of the story. Look, I’ve tried to keep Fontaine and the TV woman at bay for as long as I could. I’ve told them that your security here is unbreachable, which, incidentally, it really isn’t. I mean, when was the last time you guys updated the security in here?”
“Apparently, you should blame the economy… austerity measures and all that,” Doc answered.
“Look, if I can just walk in here, imagine what someone could do if they were intending to do you guys harm.”
“I wouldn’t allow it,” CJ said primly. “This facility has my full protection.”
“Well now, good for you,” Link said with a sarcastic look in his eyes. “I mean, you’re not exactly operating at full strength here, folks… no offence,” Link added quickly. “And those of you left aren’t at the top of your game anymore.”
“Watch your mouth, kid,” Crimson said, his voice thick with threat and menace.
“Why Fontaine? What the hell has he got against us?” Jamie-Lyn asked quickly as she could feel Crimson’s anger start to rise.
“Well, dear old Wilson has just gotten himself engaged to a much younger woman by all accounts. Word is that she’s the one pulling the strings. Now I haven’t met her yet, haven’t even managed to get a picture of her, which is suspicious in itself. I’ve never known a person take so much care about not being seen.”
“So you think that it’s her?” Doc quizzed.
“That would be my guess. Another guess would be that if you were to find this woman and do a strip search, somewhere on her body you’d find a certain downward cross sword tattoo.”
“SOUL” Jamie-Lyn stated. “That’s what you’re saying here, right? That she’s SOUL?”
Link nodded slowly in reply.
“Can you prove any of this?” Doc asked hopefully.
“Man alive!” Link exclaimed violently. “Like I just said, it doesn’t matter. You’re all going to be toast in the public’s eyes in the next couple of days. Fontaine owns the media in this country, including the social arm. Even if I could produce enough evidence, who’s going to publish it? You can take to the internet, of course, but you’re going to look as nuts as they’re going to present you.”
“Do you have any direct evidence about SOUL?” Jesus asked.
“Well, nothing that would stand up in court if that’s what you’re asking.”
“What about her? What about Cynthia Arrow?”
“As far as I can tell, no one’s seen that fruitcake for years, but someone is undoubtedly behind all this; it’s way too organised to be random. No, this is an operation run from the shadows by someone who knows all of you. Something like this takes planning… years of it.”
Jamie-Lyn shot Jesus a hard accusatory look.
“What about the thing that’s been hunting us?” Crimson asked.
“Thing?” Link fired back.
The others all looked at each other, unsure whether to bring a stranger into the circle. It was Doc who took the initiative and told Link about CJ and his Torvanian theory.
“Damn,” Link breathed after she’d filled him in. “And you think this is what killed Six-Shooter and Bull?”
“Sounds crazy, huh?” Doc retorted.
“Well, I’m staring at a seven-foot green lizard, so no, not especially,” he said, shaking his head. “Honestly, I think the moment our friend here landed, all bets wer
e off. Torvanians, huh? I got to admit, though, it does kind of sound like a slaves’ revolt. Certainly gives a motive.”
CJ bristled as his skin flushed a brighter green.
“Yeah, he doesn’t like the S word,” Crimson said as he noted CJ’s unease.
“Have you seen anything like that, like this… beast?” Jamie-Lyn asked.
“Well I think I’d certainly have noticed it.” He grinned back. “But no, although…”
“What?”
“When I was staking out the care home, I did kind of get the impression that, well, that something else was out there, and yes I mean something, not someone. From what I’ve studied about Six-Shooter, whatever took him had to be something extraordinary, likewise for Bull. I mean, the destruction at the care home… well, that was pretty impressive. I’ve tracked and studied men all over the globe. I know what a human feels like and this…, well, it felt different.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Crimson half muttered to himself as he thought about his own encounter with the beast.
“So then,” Link pondered aloud, “we’ve potentially got Cynthia Arrow back from the dead like a Professor Moriarty for the new age, hatching schemes from behind the curtain, pulling strings and bringing all of you down. Then we’ve possibly got another space alien on the loose, only this one isn’t here to help. You’re all burnt here: no backup, no government support, and I think it’s safe to assume that come the morning, there will be warrants out for most – if not all – of you.”
“Why are you smiling?” Doc asked incredulously as Link beamed.
“Sorry,” he apologised quickly, adjusting his expression. “But…, well you know, this is kind of everything I ever dreamed of.”
“You’re a sick man.” Crimson nodded. “I kind of like him,” he announced good-naturedly to the others.
“We have to get out of here,” Jesus added. “If all of this is correct, then there’s a good chance they’ll be coming for us.”
“Oh, I think you can count on that,” Link agreed. “Anyone got a secret base stashed away? A lair, perhaps? Crimson?” he asked hopefully.
“Had one. The beast ripped through it and killed everyone there.”
“Damn,” Link breathed.
“Damn is right.”
“Underground cave?”
“Jungle compound.”
“Cool.”
“Pretty hot actually.”
“Well I’m so glad that you both think this is funny,” Doc scolded them as the two men grinned at each other.
----------
Armed conflicts today are fought behind computer screens where information is the real ammunition. Eyes were everywhere and everyone was watching everyone else; it was hard to keep a secret in the digital age.
One such watcher was Link’s former commanding officer, Major William Buckley Rtd, who was currently viewing the battlefield from his enforced seated position.
An IAD had taken his legs but it had not touched his mind, which was sharper than ever.
He had hoped that he’d found a kindred spirit in Link, another soldier brought through the system the hard way, swimming against the tide of class prejudice. But in the end, Link had only wanted to serve his own ends and feather his own nest.
Of course, he’d known from early on that Link had intended to steal the Fontaine account for himself; the man’s eyes had lit up at the prospect of landed the biggest whale in the country.
He’d also been aware of Link’s gathering of potential blackmail information, and he had to admit that the man was good. As a recon expert, there was simply no one better, but then for some reason, Link had backed off. He’d hoped that his former charge had simply had a change of heart, perhaps coming to realise just what a hole Buckley had dug him out of after he’d left the service. As a result, he’d spared the man’s life. The contract that was ready to go had been shelved and he’d even allowed him to take part of the Fontaine account, but now he was going to have to clip this bird’s wings.
Link had shown his true colours when he’d gone running to the Queen’s Guard and spilled his guts in some twisted desire to prove himself worthy to a decommissioned unit who’d never wanted him in the first place.
Buckley’s own men had been keeping tabs on Link from minute one under his own supervision. As far as Fontaine was concerned, the day-to-day operations were of little concern as long as the job got done. Buckley ran the show with Link as his point man, just without Link’s knowledge.
Link had been using all of Buckley’s contacts, a very useful list to be sure, but a lot of the equipment he bought came with a few added extras, namely undetectable bugs, both audio and sometimes visual. As a result, Buckley knew everything that Link had been up to, which of course included his spying on Fontaine’s movements.
Part of him hoped to still bring the kid back into the fold – after all, he was an outstanding asset – but the call had come in earlier to clean house and Buckley knew better than to disobey a direct order of that particular nature.
The strange thing was, of course, that more and more lately he’d been taking orders from Fontaine’s new fiancée. The stranger thing was that Fontaine had been extremely clear that he was in no way to investigate the woman’s background.
That nugget was odd, given that Fontaine never took a woman to his bed without thoroughly vetting her first, but now the woman that shared the billionaire’s bed seemed to be running the show.
Buckley ran a check through his vantage point in his penthouse suite. While it was light years from where the likes of Fontaine laid his head, it was a long way from where Buckley had grown up and he wasn’t above to give it up without a fight.
“Command to Tact One,” he said into the mic on a wire around the side of his head.
“Tact One,” came the reply.
“Go live,” Buckley ordered.
The monitors in front of him now switched from snowy static to a live feed as all of his team turned their chest-mounted body cams on. Eight very large and heavily armed men were crouched in a semi-circle, perched on a verge overlooking a large building across the road from them.
“Update?” he asked.
“All targets inside building.”
“Security?”
“Disabled. The system’s pretty shit, sir… outdated junk, entry should be silent.”
“They didn’t need much in the way of security, son. Remember who lives there,” Buckley warned the young eager man.
“Copy that, sir.”
“Hold for confirmation.”
Buckley muted the strike team and dialled a number on a burner phone, one that took him through to Fontaine’s private line; unsurprisingly, a woman answered.
“Yes?”
“Buckley here.”
“Well?”
“The team’s ready, miss, but…”
“But what?”
“Well, I’m still not sure that this is the best course of action. You have to remember who we’re dealing with here.”
“A bunch of old farts if I’m not mistaken.”
“All due respect, miss, but I think you are mistaken. These people are not to be taken lightly, especially you know who.”
“Your concerns are noted, Mr Buckley, now get on with it.”
“I need authorisation.”
“Then you have it.”
“I… well, I really need to speak to Mr Fontaine. This is a big step, miss. I’m going to need the big man’s go-ahead.”
“Do you like your position here, Mr Buckley?”
“Yes,” he answered tersely, hating the superior tone that was always present in his interactions with the woman; it always reminded him of his time in the army.
“Then I’m assuming that you would like to keep it?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then when I give you an order, I think it’s best just to go right on ahead and assume that I speak for Mr Fontaine. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” he replied, his knuck
les turning white as the plastic phone cracked under his grip.
“Lovely, then run along and do your job.”
She hung up and Buckley relished the chance to slam the throwaway phone against the wall and watch it shatter. It was a childish action but a satisfying one.
“Tact One?” he said, opening the line again.
“Sir.”
“Mask up.”
Buckley watched on the monitor as the men dressed in black combat gear now reached into a large carryall and drew out Velcro strips and attached them to the front of their outfits. The white lettering spelled out SCO19, the British police’s specialised armed response unit. The whole outfits were an exact match for the real thing and no one would tell the difference.
“Okay, Tact One, breach, and remember… no survivors,” Buckley ordered.
----------
The television was still playing on in the background with Summer Sloan making a new set of general insinuations about the team along with some breaking news.
“Just to reiterate,” Summer said gravely, “we are getting word from reliable sources that the ex-prime minister, Rosemary Williams, has been found dead at her country estate. No official word from the police as yet, but it is our understanding here at ARK News that a murder investigation is under way.”
“Yeah, no way that’s a coincidence,” Crimson said.
“We don’t know anything and it would be unwise to speculate at this point,” CJ warned.
“The hell we don’t,” Link snorted. “I hate to agree with a… well, no offence, but a world-renowned psychopath, but he’s right.”
“None taken.” Crimson smiled happily.
“What do you know about her… Rosemary Williams?” Doc asked Jesus.
“She was before my time.” He shrugged in reply. “My old man spoke fondly of her, always said she had bigger balls than any man he had ever met; didn’t any of you meet her?”
The remaining team members all turned to CJ.
“I met her a few times,” he admitted, “but only really in a… ceremonial capacity. Photo opps, I believe they are called.”
“Well she was never shy about doling out the resources,” Crimson added. “Back in the day if we wanted something, we only had to ask.”
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