Operation:UNITY (John Steel series Book 2)

by p s syron-jones

  Steel growled as he heard the pleasure in her voice. “Tell you what,” he called up to her. “Let’s do that again, but this time you shoot, I shoot. And believe me, I don’t miss.”

  There was a brief silence followed by a woman’s scream. “It’s okay, Mr Black, you can come out, she is, how do you say, indisposed.”

  Steel recognized the voice as that of one of the Russians. He looked round the corner to find Jane Stewart was been held by both arms by the two Russian gorillas, so he grinned and stood up and walked over. He bowed to Vedas who returned the gesture. “Glad to see everyone made it safely,” he said, then shot a look at Jane as she dangled a few feet above the floor, “Well almost everyone.” He glared at Jane, who gave him a sarcastic smirk.

  They made their way to the staff’s cafeteria, which separated the cargo holds. The long dining area could support five hundred of the thousand workers aboard the ship, large ceiling strip lights made sure the room was brightly lit. Huge industrial refrigerators held cold drinks and an open kitchen with a long hotplate system was at the north wall by the entrance.

  All of them sat down at a group of tables. Steel made sure he was facing the door.

  “Glad to see you again, Mr Black,” Bob said genuinely as he shook Steel’s hand.

  “I brought some more guests to the party, hope you don’t mind,” Steel told him, and gave a low whistle. They all watch hesitantly to see who the mystery people were. With a metallic grind the bulkhead door was opened and gasps of relief filled the air as Grant and Martin Goddard walked in.

  John looked round. “Where’s that snake Blacke gone?” he asked.

  Tia shook her head. “He must have bolted after the explosion, and he will be going for the lifeboats.”

  Steel frowned. “No, he won’t. The doors are sealed from the explosion.”

  Grant looked confused, asking, “What explosion?”

  Everyone looked at him, shocked. “You never heard anything?” someone asked him.

  Grant shrugged. “We heard a loud thump, but that was it.”

  Jane looked at the two men with a weird expression, her eyes full of questions. “How did you get past the gas?” she asked.

  The two men looked at each other and smiled, “Believe it or not, we went out for a smoke and that’s what saved us,” Grant told her. Martin nodded to confirm Grant’s story.

  “Well, there’s a smoking advert you’ll never see on TV.” Steel’s words made Tia giggle as he opened one of the bottles of water Vedas had got from the fridge and tossed to him.

  “So how did you guys escape?” Grant asked, but his words slipped away as everyone watched Steel stand up and start to walk towards the cargo hold that had been so troublesome.

  “What is it?” Missy asked in an anxious tone.

  John Steel raised his hand to make everyone stop. “Wait here,” he ordered futilely, realising that they would follow anyway. Steel entered slowly and just stood at the mouth of the wall of crates and boxes. “Kill the light, will you?” he called out.

  Tia found a switch next to the door and killed the lights. They all looked as an ominous red glow emanated from behind a group of long crates.

  “Okay,” Steel called over, acknowledging that the lights could go back on.

  “What is it?” Missy asked shaking with fear.

  Steel walked carefully over and stopped at a safe distance to investigate the glow. Slowly, he moved back and turned, before breaking into a run back to the others.

  A metallic scraping sound from above made him stop and look up: someone was coming in. Steel rushed back, telling everyone to get back by using hand signals. At the doorway they all peered in to see one of the mercenaries climb down from the opening, but the man was too short for the drop and as he fell he caught the edge and dropped towards the crate Steel had been investigating.

  “RUN!” he yelled. The explosion ripped through the room as if the metal caskets were made of paper and the wall divide disintegrated into deadly metal shards. The survivors ran for cover, diving into rooms and locking doors in the hope of slowing the fiery beast down.

  Jane ran past several open doors, and fear had really gripped her. She tripped, and as she turned she saw the black and red beast coming for her. She screamed and closed her eyes. The noise roared like an angry beast. Tia covered her ears and screamed as if to drown out that dreadful noise, and she felt the heat against the door, even though she was several feet away. She stopped screaming and everything went dark as she passed into a terrible sleep.

  Tia dreamt of bluebirds in the park on a sunny day. She could feel the warmth of the sun against her skin, the sound of woodpeckers tapping on the trees as she sat on the soft grass. She looked over at the trees as the tapping of their beaks made more of a metallic noise, and a little blonde-haired girl in a red dress walked up to her and started to call her name. Tia looked strangely at the girl, who started to poke her with a stick. “Hey, get off,” she yelled.

  Tia sat up and looked round in the darkness, while flashes of orange light illuminated Missy’s sweet face. “Oh my Lord, for a moment I thought we had lost you,” she said.

  Tia cleared her throat. “What happened?” she asked, semi-conscious.

  “The crate the man fell on was rigged,” Missy told her. “Well, that’s what Mr. Black thinks anyway.” Tia struggled to get up but felt weak from the sudden loss of adrenaline.

  Missy and Vedas helped her up and into what was left of the corridor and took her to the others. Tia looked at the back wall, where the explosion had cleared a horrific unobstructed view of what Steel had seen before.

  Sparks flew down from broken power cables like bright orange raindrops, intermittent flashes as the cables burst with electricity, lighting up the darkened lower sections and the faces of the scared group of people. They sat huddled together in fear as they watched the electronic counter as it blinked with every passing second.

  They watched the man as he used his hands to search for a way to switch off the timer, other than the keypad on a control panel underneath the counter.

  “Can you stop it?” asked a tall blonde woman.

  His back was the only thing that was visible to them. He did not respond.

  “Hey, the lady asked you a question.” The tone of the large American was a mixture of fear and anger, but the man knew it was not directed towards him.

  “Please, Mr Black, can you stop it?” the women asked again as the man stood up and walked towards them. He was tall and his rugged features seemed handsome as the flashes of light illuminated one side of his chiselled face. He was dressed all in black, and the colour suited him.

  “I need the code, but we have time.” He turned and looked at the timer that read 04:45:36. “I have to find the device and hope to stop it from there.” He turned to walk away but stopped, then he half turned towards them and waited for a moment. “Oh, and by the way the name isn’t Black it’s Steel, John Steel.”

  There was a large burst of sparks from the cables, causing the people to shield their eyes. As they looked back to where Steel had been standing, all they saw was an empty passageway.

  THIRTY-THREE

  McCall had been to see Tina at the morgue and they had had their daily chat, but this time there was a lot she was holding back, there was so much she just couldn’t say. However, the conversation moved to its usual subject as Tina did her utmost to get the lowdown on Sam’s relationship with Doctor Dave. However, their talk was cut short by a text message from Tooms which said, Get your ass back here as electro geek has something.

  As Sam McCall stepped off the elevator, she made a beeline for the small briefing room. “Okay, so what we got?” she asked as she entered.

  The tech looked up from his computer and smiled. “Your boy reckons he’s got something.” Captain Brant was in the room but he seemed lost, like a child who had come across algebra for the first time.

  “This, Detectives, is, in a word, genius.” Captain Brant said, as McCall smiled fal
sely.

  “Great, so what is it?” she asked.

  Roberts adjusted his glasses and looked reverently at what was in front of him. “This is a multi-binary unit with a multiphase control system,” he told her.

  The room fell silent, and mouths fell open.

  “It’s a what?” Tooms asked as he sat down suddenly.

  “It’s a control system for multiple devices,” Roberts went on. “But we’re talking about split-second reaction time. It also seems to be linked to something—a special warning device like an infrared beam, something like that.”

  Brant looked at McCall, who also wore an uneasy look. “Do you know where it would be used?” asked McCall, who moved slowly to look at the outstretched blueprint that lay on the long briefing table.

  “Judging by the size of the area, you are looking at a stadium or somewhere with a large surface area,” Roberts went on, barely able to control his excitement. “It’s all controlled by a central unit, a computer or mainframe of some sort.”

  Brant looked at the young man with an impressed look on his face but McCall just looked more worried. “Any idea what it’s for or where it is?” she asked.

  The man stood up and searched through his notes. “No, not really. Just one name did come up though.”

  Sam McCall turned slowly and shot the man a look.

  “The name was Neptune,” he told her. McCall looked over to Brant, who had the same puzzled look on his face.

  “What the hell is Neptune?” Brant yelled.

  A young uniformed officer stepped forward and began to speak: “It’s a new British-American venture, the largest cruise liner ever constructed, and it’s due to come into New York at around four o’clock this afternoon.”

  Brant looked shocked and amazed. “How the hell did you know all that?” he asked the man who’d just spoken.

  The uniformed police officer pointed up to the television set on the wall that showed aerial footage of the leviathan.

  “My God, look at the size of that thing,” Tooms muttered under his breath. All of them stood and watched the TV, then, as if hit by a bullet, McCall walked over to her desk and sat down hard in to her chair, as the colour drained from her face.

  “McCall, what’s wrong?” Tooms asked, rushing over.

  She looked up at him with eyes that were staring into the distance. “Steel’s on that ship,” she told him.

  Brant walked over and shook his head in disbelief. “Come on! How could you know that? The guy could be on any damn cruise ship. What makes you think he’s on that one?”

  She looked up at the captain and a smile broke at the corner of her mouth. “Because it’s a doomed cruise ship and he is a magnet for trouble.”

  They all looked up at the TV set and watched more footage.

  “Well, Detective, if you’re right, I guess we better get ready,” Brant said.

  Tooms looked confused. “For what, Captain?”

  Brant turned and faced them and smiled. “The shit to hit the fan and a lot of dead terrorists.”

  Steel had left the others downstairs in the safety of the crew’s cafeteria. They would have questions when he got back, but for now he had to find a way to the lifeboats. His plan was simple: if he couldn’t go through the doors he would go in from above. The silent corridors seemed surreal, almost like a bad dream, the air musky from the lack of fresh air that was normally pumped from the air-conditioning units.

  John made his feet impact on the ground a little harder, just to break the unbearable silence of the ghost ship. Slowly he edged up the stairwell to the doors that led to Deck Six, his weapon held shoulder high and braced into his shoulder, ready for any surprises. The door slid open as he approached. Carefully he made his way in, checking corners and listening out for chatter or footsteps. The silence was everywhere and the shadows hung in the alcoves of the rooms doorways like strange beasts ready to pounce. Even the thump, thump, thump of the engines was muffled by the thick plating below his feet.

  Deck Six was mostly comprised of the bars and restaurants that lay at the centre of the deck, and there was an elaborate open-spaced walkway, full of tables and benches that had been fixed to the iron flooring. Unlike the others, this walkway was free of flora; this was the party floor that wound itself from entrance to exit. On the outside of the deck, using the dimly lit corridors, lay the smaller cabins which only took up one side, all of which were facing the ocean and had balconies.

  Steel went to the first room and forced the door. Inside a family lay huddled together with a look of contentment on their faces. He thought how fortunate it was that no one had any idea what was going on. He moved quickly towards the balconies and pushed open the sliding door. The drop to the deck was substantial, and he calculated that he needed a way back up, just in case his plan failed.

  Running out into the corridor he searched for the cleaners’ room where they were likely to keep the extra bedding and cleaning equipment. Earlier he had taken note that each floor would have such a room, just in case it became necessary. Steel found the cleaning closet not too far down the corridor, and with a massive kick, the door lock was smashed open and he was in.

  He stood for a moment and grabbed half a dozen bed sheets from the shelves. Then, as he hurried back to the balcony, he began to tie the sheets together as he made a rope from the white linen bedding. The smell of starch crept up his nostrils as he bound the ends together then securely attached one end to the balcony top railing.

  He had climbed down effortlessly and was checking the blast damage from that side: there was none. Steel turned and headed to one of the massive lifeboats. The huge yellow vessel was at least thirty feet long, with a small window on top for the pilot. He ran forwards and peered inside one of the windows, then stepped back so that his back was on the wall of the ship, a look of complete shock on his face, which then turned to anger. He ran down to two more of the craft and each one was the same. His gaze fell upon the ship and his lips curled into an animalistic snarl. He wanted to find Blacke, he had a lot of questions, and Blacke would have to answer them.

  Antony Blacke was dirty and frightened and looked around at the slightest sound. He had made it to Deck Five in the hope of getting on board one of the lifeboats and disappearing into the horizon. He wanted this nightmare to end so he could go back to his old life. He coughed as he inhaled a strange mixture of smells that he wasn’t familiar with. He looked round at the sight of devastation but paid it no heed, for he was only interested in the bulkhead doors that led to his salvation.

  Blacke’s smile faded as he saw the blackened edges and the damage on the door, and he froze for a brief moment that seemed like forever to him. As he looked at the handle-less door, all his hopes of escape melted away. He screamed and ran at the metal, smashing it with his fists and begging for it to open.

  “You could always try saying ‘Open Sesame’,” called out a voice from behind him.

  Fearful of who it might be, he stopped but didn’t turn, beads of sweat cascading down his body. He could feel his legs beginning to fail him. “Oh, Tony. Thank God it’s you,” he said, turning slowly, his hands raised above his head and a fake smile etched into his smug face.

  Steel grabbed him and threw him to the ground next to the heavily burnt carcass of one of the mercenaries. “See that? That’s the work of your precious cargo,” John Steel snarled at him.

  Blacke looked to the side and as he realised what the blackened twisted shape was, he scrabbled sideways quickly, on all fours. “I didn’t know what was in the cases, I swear!” Blacke insisted with tears in his eyes.

  Steel grabbed him and pulled him up to his feet then pushed him roughly towards the other exit. Blacke looked over at the door nervously. “Where are we going?” he asked, in a voice quaking with fear. “We’re going for a drink and for me to get some answers,” Steel told him. “Now move!” Blacke heard the distinctive clatter of metal and polymer moving, the sound of a weapon being lifted up, a sound he had heard all too oft
en.

  As they made their way to the Irish Bar, Steel had time to think. They were taking the elevator up to the deck, travelling this way because he was sick of skulking round and hiding, and if his enemies wanted him, he would rather face them head-on. Steel thought back to McCall’s cases, such as the crane operator and the electrician who had had the ‘accidents’. His mind ticked over as the hypnotic clicks and knocking sounds of the elevator as it travelled upwards filled the large cabin. He thought about all of McCall’s cases and how they had to be linked in some way: the common factor to all was probably this ship. Steel looked over to Blacke as he cowered in the corner of the steel box, and he knew that this devil of a man didn’t have all of the answers but he had enough to be going on with.

  As the elevator stopped, the doors slid open slowly to reveal another quiet lonely mall. Steel grabbed Blacke and shoved him towards the Irish Bar. The door was locked up, and there was a ‘closed’ sign hanging from a plastic notice stuck on it. Blacke looked at Steel and smiled arrogantly. “Oops, it’s locked. What now, tough guy?” Steel looked up at the door and returned the smile.

  The bar’s door opened with a loud crash, and splinters of glass and wood sprayed across the polished wooden floor followed by the body of Blacke, who Steel had used as a makeshift battering ram.

  “Now it's open.” Blacke looked up at Steel with contempt and fear. Steel grabbed Blacke’s arm, which was bleeding from a cut, and led him towards the bar. Using zip ties from his combat vest, he secured Blacke to the highly polished brass railing that ran the length of the bar’s surface. Then he went behind the bar and poured himself a large whisky, downed it in one, and tried to shake off the taste of the cheap malt.

  “Okay, Blacke, tell me about the boxes and what was in them. And don’t try to lie to me because I don’t believe for a minute you had no idea. In fact I think you handled the inventory deals for that ship that went down a while ago.” Blacke returned Steel’s stare. In a way he felt a grudging admiration for this strange man behind the bar. “So tell me, Blacke, why are you on the ship doing the sale? It doesn't make sense.”