The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  Around the room, everyone was hung onto his every word. Arnholt stood arms folded with grim determination on his face while Okocha worked away at the viewing screen, his fingers dancing across the keyboard with urgency. David Wilsin sought to block out the constant clack-clack-clack in the background and instead focus on the images being projected out onto the wall ahead. He’d need to know these. Floor plans of the hospital, blurred stills from security footage, outside images of the hospital. This wasn’t going to be fun.

  They had to intervene. The call had been made to Arnholt, a plea from the chief of the local police force on Carcaradis Island, citing their inability to effectively handle something like this. By the time a response team arrived from the mainland, it could be too late. Allison Crumley had been despatched to the front line to coordinate the effort, Fagan going with her at Arnholt’s urging. Just in case. Between the two of them, they were doing an effective job, but the hard part was still to come.

  Around him, everyone was just as focused on the briefing as he was. Mel Harper and Lysa Montgomery checked their Featherstones, both kitted out in the same type of vest as Brendan. They had been Noorland’s idea a few months back, extra protection as well as light-weight and something easily identifiable in the confusion. In conjunction with the personal shields, they meant that their protection was more effective than ever. Just a damn shame they couldn’t outfit the hostages with them until they’d finished the inevitable firefight.

  “Most of the staff and able-bodied people present did manage to flee,” Brendan continued. “Reports tell us that the hostiles bore no identifiable features on their uniforms and were masked. Armed, dangerous and unknown. Permission to terminate on sight is authorised. Priority is the safety of the hostages involved.”

  “Do we have thermal imaging of the building?” Anne asked. She was in the process of putting her vest on over her street clothes, she’d hurried over from the stadium when the call had been made. As far as Wilsin knew, people were being urged to stay off the streets and in the stadiums until the danger was passed. She had her Saga laid across her knee, checking it carefully, the rifle nearly half her size and just as deadly sleek.

  “It would appear our hostiles are encamped in the administrator’s office,” Brendan said. “There are a number of hostages with them, making exact numbers hard to determine.”

  More images snapped up of the administrator’s office, a neat room with a couple of bookshelves and a large desk. All very fancy, Wilsin thought, noting the plush purple curtains covering the huge window towards the back of the room. It had a decent view over the island, he could see the shelves were filled with various medical tomes. It looked like the sort of office where someone who didn’t do much beyond its four walls might work. He could tell it had that worked-in look. He didn’t know much about the administrator but considering how short a time it had been open then he must have done well to get it like that in such a short space of time They were official images, promotion material. He’d heard rumours the Carcaradis Island hospital was hoping to become one of the most prominent in Vazara. Given most of the hospitals in Vazara were allegedly one step slightly above being left to die in the gutter, he didn’t think that would be hard. The next images that came up were shots of the same room but from outside, he could see the window frame and into the room, no mistaking the men stood there with the rifles.

  “This shot came from across the recorder across the street, we’ve done all we can with it, made it the best we’re going to get.” Wilsin had already noted the grainy quality of the image. If Will said it was the best they could get it, it was the best they could get it.

  “What’s the plan?” Derenko asked. He stood at the back of the room, his face etched with disinterest but Wilsin guessed it wasn’t. Based on experience, this was just the way he readied himself for the fight. He didn’t like to dwell too much on what needed to be done, did Derenko. Aldiss next to him on the other hand looked thoughtful, like he was considering every word from Brendan or Okocha. He was cleaning off a knife with an oiled rag, examining it for any traces of rust.

  “We have a number of options,” Brendan said. “Thermal imaging has shown sporadic patrols through hospital corridors. So far, they show no specific pattern we can lock down with what information we have. I want to send two teams into the hospital, one goes high and one goes low. The Administrator has his office here on the fifth floor. One team goes in through the basement and ascends. Our second team hits the roof and descends. Hopefully we can pincer them. Nine floors, between ten and twenty hostiles, they can’t hope to keep an eye on that amount of space all at once. Disable surveillance, blind them and we should be able to take them. Agent Sullivan, I want you on the rooftop opposite with your rifle, I want you keeping an eye on the situation in there with the hostages. Take a spotter with you. Any preferences?”

  “I’ll go,” Noorland offered, striding through the door. He provided no apologies for his lateness. “I’m probably the best with the tech we’ve got anyway.”

  “I did toy with the idea of pumping knockout gas into the room,” Brendan said. “But it is not without its risks. We don’t have any here…”

  “Big problem that,” Leclerc remarked. Someone snickered, some of the tension eased out of the room. Some, not all. They did have a dirty job to do after all. Brendan ignored him.

  “We don’t have any here and by the time we could get some, it might well be too late. So, of our two teams, the air team will use spirits to get to the roof and land silently. Already the area is cordoned off below in the parking lot, but there are people there. And the media.”

  He said the last word with distaste. “If they have a viewing screen active, it’ll blow our cover if they see our assault coming and those consequences could be disastrous. Go from the back. Come from the north of the building, stay low and ascend when you need to. Given Agent Wilsin’s intimate knowledge of this island’s sewage system…”

  One trip below, Wilsin thought dryly, and you’re tagged for life. I don’t even remember much from that night. Trust Nick to be suspended for this fun job. Even if he hadn’t been, it’d be debateable if he’d even show up, not with his lady currently fighting across the island. He’d been amazed Anne had shown really given the closeness he’d seen her displaying with that Jameson kid. Maybe he’d read the situation wrong.

  “He will lead the team down there, along with Agents Montgomery and Leclerc. Agent Derenko will lead the air team with Agents Aldiss and Harper. We mobilise in five minutes. Any questions?”

  “What about Wade?” Aldiss asked. “Any word on whether he got out or is he still in there?”

  Arnholt and Brendan looked at each other silently. Neither of them looked like they wanted to answer the question until Brendan reluctantly spoke up. “He’s not been reported sighted. Nor has Inquisitor Mallinson We believe they’re still on site. Agent Wallerington is still incapacitated and is not to be considered an active asset. Checking on him is not your priority. Save the hostages. Eliminate hostiles. Anything else is secondary.”

  “Have they asked for anything?” Mel Harper asked. “The hostiles? They must want something. There had to be some reason they did this.”

  “Furthermore, how do they intend to get out of it?” Derenko wondered. “Because they must know once they set down this path, it ends violently. There’s no going back now.”

  “Maybe they didn’t want to,” Lysa said softly. “Maybe it’s a statement.”

  “Or maybe it’s just some assholes with an outlaw complex,” Wilsin said, shrugging. It made no difference to him.

  “Nothing has been released,” Brendan said. “On a further note, Agent Noorland, I want you to equip everyone with the stun grenades we brought. They could come in handy.”

  “I’ve got just the thing,” Noorland grinned, moving to one of the storage boxes littering the room. “These things pack a nasty punch. They’ll do the job nicely. Completely gums up the nervous system. They get hit with these,
they won’t even be able to hold a weapon never mind fire one. Range about ten feet from impact, potentially greater in an enclosed space.” He smacked a fist against his open palm and chuckled. “No permanent damage though. I remember testing these. Fun times. Now we don’t have many… I know, I know, hindsight is a wonderful thing, so we best split them up nice and even like.”

  “Will, requisition some more from the mainland,” Arnholt said brusquely. It wouldn’t help now but the way this whole thing had gone from the start, Wilsin was starting to think they had the right idea, prepping for things to get worse. If it was up to him… Well him as someone else, not him the competitor in the Quin-C, but him the administrator… he’d call the whole thing off, split the prize money twenty-four ways and offer sincerest apologies. Things had been getting too dicey recently. Two murders in hotel rooms, both nowhere close to being solved, the attack on the ICCC building, attempted kidnap, flooding… There came a point when you just had to give something up as a bad job.

  “On it,” Okocha said. Wilsin looked up and nodded at him before opening his mouth to speak. If he was going to be commanding the ground entry team, he was putting his credits into the pot.

  “Split the grenades two to each. Anne and Al won’t need them being out of harm’s way.”

  “I’m out of harm’s way,” Anne said primly. In her words, he could hear a certain coldness he found surprising. He’d never gone into the field with her before, he couldn’t have been the only one who’d never expected to hear those words from the silver haired waif’s mouth. “Whoever I point my weapon at won’t be.” It could have sounded like the words were full of bravado, rather an iron certainty in them telling him she meant what she said. She believed it. He’d never been able to work her out completely.

  “Anyway, we’ll have six between the two on-site teams which will be plenty if we stick together. If they’re all congregated together, we’ll have them despatched in no time.”

  “That sort of confidence won’t help you none,” Derenko said coldly. “If you think this is going to be easy, Agent Wilsin…”

  “I don’t. I know it’s going to be hard. I don’t think anyone would be dumb enough to line up where we can pop them at will,” Wilsin interrupted. “If we get through this without losing anyone, then I think we’ll have done well.”

  “He says it well,” Arnholt said. “Listen up, teams. You have your assignments. You know what you need to do. May your skills save you, and others around you today. You’ve all been trained well, you’ll need every ounce of that training to see you through. Draw on all your experience and we’ll get through this. I believe in you all.”

  And that was that, Wilsin thought as he checked his X7 and slid it into his holster. Moving around in full combat gear felt weird, something he hadn’t done for a while. At least there were cooling pads inside to help with the temperature outside. It was lightweight but would be unbearable without the pads. Especially with the mask. He slid the balaclava over his face, it’d hide his features in case the muffler malfunctioned. All overkill an outsider might think, but protecting identities was something they’d gotten very good over the years.

  “Wilsin, your team is Alpha,” Brendan called. “You’re Alpha One. Montgomery, Alpha Two. Leclerc Alpha Three. Derenko, Bravo One. Aldiss Bravo Two. Harper…”

  “Bravo Three? Just a guess?” It was hard to tell if Mel Harper was smiling behind her mask. It sounded like she might have. Brendan nodded.

  “Correct.” He then carried on over to Noorland and Anne. “Sullivan, Chaos One. Noorland, Chaos Two.”

  “Well now we’ve got that sorted,” Derenko said as Wilsin bent down to pick up his Featherstone. “Let’s get this going. Longer we dawdle, the greater risk those people are at.”

  “Good hunting, guys,” Arnholt said. “Good luck. Don’t fuck this up or we’ll never live it down.”

  As Wilsin walked past him, Okocha pressed a projector disc into his hand. “Your route to the hospital. Wouldn’t want you getting lost down there, huh? Damn maze of tunnels.”

  Wilsin laughed. “Don’t I know it?” He patted Okocha on the shoulder. “Thanks pal. Appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” Will sounded a little too prideful at the praise, he had to admit. If it hadn’t been him, he’d have been worried. “It’s what I do. Come back alive, mate.”

  That was then, and this was now. Taking a speeder to the closest water station, they’d been permitted through without anyone getting a hint as to who they were. If he was honest with himself, Wilsin always liked this part more than he thought he would. The getting recognised thing was cool in small doses. It felt like he was just about getting to the point where people did bother him when he walked down the street. Being here in this tournament was helping increase his notoriety. He couldn’t complain. The publicity was part of the whole being famous thing. You couldn’t have one without the other.

  They walked through the underground caverns in silence, Okocha’s data leading them towards their destination. He envied Derenko and his team for taking the faster approach, even if there was more chance of being shot at than there was them. Not that he wanted them to be killed but it was always possible. Unisco agents did tend to have a shorter lifespan than those who didn’t work for the agency, a sad fact of their lives.

  Then again, he’d always figured you never knew how much time you had anyway. Might as well make the most of what you did have. There’d always be those who deserved less who got more and those who deserved more who were cut down before their prime.

  “You’re both quiet,” Leclerc said. “It’s disturbing. Really.”

  “Well I was going to sing,” Lysa replied sarcastically. “But the fumes fuck up my throat and well, nobody wants to hear me coughing.”

  “Damn right,” Wilsin said. “Especially them upstairs. Keep it down, folks. They might have someone on the basement.”

  “It’s unlikely,” Lysa said. “If there’s only twenty of them…”

  “It only takes one to sound an alarm,” Wilsin said angrily. Of all the things he had to put up with right now, this should not be on the list. “If you don’t feel up to this Agent Montgomery then turn around and leave. Or you can be the one who apologises to the families of those who we got killed.”

  Okay, that sounded harsh, he had to admit. At the same time, this wasn’t a joke. “Maybe they won’t have someone there. Maybe they will. I don’t want to take the chances. There are already too many risks here to chance a misstep.”

  “He’s right,” Leclerc said. “We can’t assume anything here without further reliable intel. It’s risky and unprofessional.”

  Lysa didn’t say anything further, he had to credit her for. That was good. He might have sounded harsh but that was taking command and he didn’t want anyone to die here. It was on him, if they did. There was going to be death very soon, he’d rather it be on the other side. If there was another solution, all well and good. But violence had guided the hands of those who sought to end the lives of innocents and they needed putting down. Not because they should enjoy the act but because it would enable others to carry on living.

  He glanced down at the data, creased his eyebrows under his hood and bit back a sigh. His first time commanding a mission and so far, it was everything he’d hoped it wouldn’t be. Yes, he’d wanted this, he’d wanted the additional responsibility and it had been granted to him. The difference between him and those on his team was that while they might watch each other’s back, he was in command and had to watch everyone. They were his to oversee, his responsibility. What had he got? Lysa was a decent agent but rusty from her time convalescing and Leclerc was competent enough, but he’d been a far better pilot than he was field agent. Ideally, he’d have preferred Roper and Wade at his back. Both were survivors. He’d worked with them before, he knew their capabilities under fire, both would have found a way through this. But they weren’t here, and it was up to him to ensure this didn’t go badly.

  The devic
e Okocha had given him directed their path on a mini holograph of a map, a thin red trail leading them through the maze to show them the right path. When they deviated, it turned yellow and let out a whine loud enough to be heard, faint enough not to echo through the inky black. One final glance, Wilsin saw the line had faded, he saw the ladder and grinned. He trailed the rungs up to the covering at the top and found himself suddenly feeling apprehensive. So, this was to be the first step. No going back once they went up there.

  “Control, this is Alpha team,” he said. “We’re at the entry point.”

  “I always liked that rifle,” Noorland said as he watched Anne rest the stand of her Saga on a pair of old crates and take careful aim down the scope, her silvery hair fluttering in the wind. She looked very focused, he was pleased to see as she focused in on the administrator’s office. The curtains had been closed but still she glanced in on it. “It’s a good one.”

  “Yep,” Anne said. She sounded disinterested, her fingers moving to adjust the scope. “You get thermal on your binoculars?”

  Noorland didn’t even have to glance at them, they were his own model. He’d built them, he knew what they could do. “Yep. Probably better than the one on your rifle. Doesn’t interfere with all that heat being stored in the bricks. Shows humans in a different colour to solar heat.”

  “I just aim for the window,” Anne said. “Anyone walks past it with thermal on, they’re getting seen, even with the curtains. You pinpoint anyone in there?”

  Noorland brought them to his eyes, blowing gently out his lips in a dull hum as he started with the office and moved across the building. It wouldn’t spread too deep into the bowels of the hospital, but he could see several distinct shapes in the office.