by Sam Fisher
‘So for an incident such as the Cloud Tower, we have to find a faster delivery method. Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Exactly. Don’t blame the bots. It’s us not getting the nets deployed fast enough. Either that or expecting too much.’
‘Okay,’ Mark said thoughtfully. ‘I’ll make the creation of a faster delivery system a priority.’ He changed topic. ‘So the Four Horsemen have finally gotten their just desserts. I assume it was you who tipped off the Feds?’
‘Didn’t have to do much, Mark. The FBI have been itching to get that lot behind bars for a long time. All that pre- vented them was lack of political will within the previous administration. With Kyle Foreman in the White House, that’s no longer a hurdle. Oh and naturally the Feds needed absolute, incontrovertible evidence.’
‘Which you of course supplied.’
‘Yes.’
‘And the Channel Tunnel attack? It was the two young terrorists?’ Mark glanced at the file again.
‘Yes.’
‘And they had a double purpose for the attack. They were working for the Horsemen and their financial ambitions, but they were also trying to ensnare E-Force rescuers. They had the manifest for the train and they knew Josh Thompson would be on it. In fact, they’d been tracking his every move for days. If Josh had died in the attack, then they would have got rid of him. We would have gone in and they would have tried to kill whoever flew there.’
‘That’s about it.’
Mark fell silent for a moment. ‘It’s hard to imagine how the minds of the Four Horsemen worked.’
‘Money was their god.’
‘But they were also vengeful. They wanted to get us because we messed up their plans for Kyle Foreman and the CCC a year ago.’
‘Well, I guess vengefulness goes with the territory,’ Tom remarked. ‘I think we can safely say they weren’t very nice people.’
‘And three of them are still alive.’
‘Yes but I don’t think they will ever see freedom again. It’s pretty likely they had their colleague killed for some reason we may never get to the bottom of. If they left any evidence at all, the Feds will find it.’
‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Tom,’ Mark sighed. ‘Those guys have an uncanny way of breaking all the rules and getting away with it. They are usually extremely good at covering their tracks.’
The two men listened to the sound of exotic birds, the waves breaking on the shore and, far off, the hum of E-Force machinery.
‘There’s one thing that still puzzles me,’ Tom said and turned to Mark. ‘I don’t understand why Azrael attacked Chloe in the Cage on the Cloud Tower roof. Surely he knew it was a futile gesture.’
‘Of course he knew she would be unharmed. It’s clear he had plenty of intelligence about E-Force equipment. No doubt that was supplied by his employers. No, it was simply a delaying tactic. He must have known the SAS or some other paramilitary group would storm the building. Like the terrorists in the Channel Tunnel, he was being paid not only to hit the tower but to attack E-Force personnel. He was after Steph and Chloe. And he almost got them. He had planted an explosive device on Floor 202, causing the explosion that brought down the Cage and almost killed Chloe.’ There was an edge of bitterness to Mark’s voice.
‘I see. Pretty ironic – by the time of that blast, Azrael was already dead.’
‘He was, but he had wanted to keep prying eyes from discovering the bomb, so he did everything he could to provoke us, to slow us down.’
‘Makes sense, I guess.’
Mark gazed at the opened folder for a moment. Look- ing up, he said: ‘It was a pretty reckless thing you did back there . . .’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You did drain Light Touch’s account, didn’t you?’ He looked at Tom seriously.
‘Yes, to make him angry, to make him believe it was the work of his employers, the Four Horsemen. I wanted to make him less keen to fight us. I had solid reasons.’
‘Okay, Tom,’ Mark replied, his hands up. ‘I get it. It’s just that, well, officially it was theft, wasn’t it?’
Tom stared at the man for a moment, searching his face. ‘I prefer to think of it as “seizing assets”.’
‘But you don’t have the authority to do that.’
‘No, I don’t. So what do you want me to do now? Give it back?’
‘That won’t be possible, will it, Tom?’ Mark responded flatly.
The younger man’s face was expressionless. ‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that yesterday, by sheer coincidence, of course, the spinal injuries unit of the Johns Hopkins Medical Centre in Maryland received a seven-figure anonymous donation.’
Tom blanched. ‘How . . .?’
‘I have my sources,’ Mark replied, his tough look relaxing finally.
‘Sybil!’ Tom looked up unnecessarily and repeated the word, his voice filled with indignation. ‘You snitch, Sybil. How could you?’
There was no reply.
‘Don’t you go all quiet on me, Sybil . . .’
Mark was grinning.
Tom looked at him, hurt. ‘I’ll never trust her again,’ he said.
104
Base One, Tintara, the same day
Chloe Gavoine was sitting up in bed watching TV. She had been told she had to stay put for one more day and would not be operationally fit for two weeks. When she had protested this, she had been silenced by the undeniable facts the team’s chief medic, Dr Wayne Speckler, presented to her.
These were that one: if it had not been for the nanobots in her suit, she probably would have died on Floor 199 of the Cloud Tower; and two: the technology that had produced the bots had also enabled her to overcome injuries that would normally have taken months to heal. As a consequence, Dr Speckler had concluded, lying in bed for another 24 hours was not an unreasonable thing to ask of her. ‘Let us finish the job and get you in A1 condition,’ Dr Speckler said.
Chloe flicked channels and found BBC World News. A reporter stood outside the White House. ‘In a new development in the investigation into the triple terrorist attack on Monday, it has been revealed that a fourth suspect has been identified.’ To the left of the screen, a photograph appeared of a grinning, bald, morbidly obese man in a voluminous dark suit and wearing a bright red tie. ‘The man has been named as Eduardo Deville, a reclus- ive billionaire who had controlling shares in many of the world’s major TV and internet companies. He is believed to be the last member of the so-called “Four Horsemen”, the group responsible for the atrocities in Dubai and the Chunnel as well as the financial disruption caused by the sabotaging of ITAM.
‘Remains found in a private mansion in Sri Lanka two days ago have been formerly identified as those of Deville. However, mystery still surrounds the whereabouts of the terrorist’s vast personal fortune, estimated to be in the region of 20 billion euros . . .’
There was a gentle tap on the door and Stephanie poked her head around.
‘Hey,’ Chloe said and flicked off the TV. ‘Come in.’
Steph took two paces into the room. At her side, on a long, lightweight leash trotted a chocolate brown labrador puppy.
‘Lucky!’ Chloe exclaimed and Steph lifted him so he could be patted.
‘Meet the E-Force mascot,’ Steph said.
‘Oh God, Steph. Isn’t he adorable?’
Steph sat in a chair beside the bed. Chloe saw a plaster wrapped around her colleague’s palm.
‘So that’s all you have to show for the mission, is it?’ Chloe remarked and gave her friend a mock-contemptuous look.
Steph laughed. ‘If we ignore the psychological scars.’
Chloe was suddenly serious. ‘Yes, sorry.’
‘No need,’ Steph replied, lightly. ‘All good experience.’
She smiled but behind the lightness of her response, there was pain. Those last few minutes on the nanonet had been the most traumatic since the time she had learned of Ted’s death six years ago. She had been thoroughly
debriefed and had watched the footage of the tower crumbling, the nanonet dissolving and the cable dangling from the hovering Silverback, Keith, with Ralph Newman at the controls.
The cable had hit her in the back. She had turned and grabbed it as the platform finally fell away to nothing. She had no recollection of holding onto the cable, or swinging 1000 metres above the empty desert. But she had seen the film and knew it really had happened. She had come so close to death, many would have called her survival a miracle. She knew it was nothing of the sort. Her life had rested in the hands of great scientists, great pilots and great engineers, not God. But she felt disturbed. So many had died that day – but she had survived.
‘The press have worked themselves up into a frenzy.’ Chloe tried to change the subject.
‘Naturally. Mark tells me our media office in LA has been completely swamped and I’ve only just got back from Dubai. I must have answered at least 1000 questions.’
‘You heard the latest? They have all four Horsemen.’
‘Yes but one of them is very dead.’
‘Couldn’t have happened to a nicer man.’
They both turned at a sound coming from the other side of the room. Mark was standing there with a young boy beside him.
‘Abu!’ Steph and Chloe exclaimed in unison. ‘The bravest boy on the planet.’
Abu blushed. He had been living in a dream world for days. Once he had been given the all-clear by doctors at the scene of the disaster, he had been returned home by the emergency services. The next morning at breakfast, his father sat him down and told him he had a special invitation to travel to E-Force’s secret base. He thought his parents had been joking, but it was true. Then, to cap it all, his father had stood up, walked to a cupboard the far side of the room and returned carrying a brand new Mac notebook.
‘I don’t know who sent it,’ he said. ‘But I believe you deserve it,’ and he passed the machine over to his astonished young son.
‘Say “Hi”,’ Mark nudged Abu and mouthed to the women. ‘I think he’s a little overwhelmed.’
Abu walked over and embraced first Steph then Chloe, before stepping back shyly.
‘So what do you think of the place?’ Steph asked.
‘I cannot begin to describe it,’ Abu replied. ‘I would like to write about it at school but . . .’ And he looked around at Mark, ‘Mr Harrison has made it very clear I have to “maintain complete secrecy”. Is that what you called it, sir?’
Mark smiled. ‘Yes.’
‘And I will,’ Abu replied earnestly.
Steph felt tears welling up and forced them back. ‘Come here, Abu,’ she said, her voice a little shaky.
The boy trotted over. Steph took him by the shoulders. ‘How old are you?’ she asked.
‘I am 11 and six days.’
‘Okay,’ Steph replied. ‘If Mr Harrison agrees,’ and she winked at Mark. ‘I would like to propose that in, let’s see . . . 10 years from now after you’ve been to university, if you’re still interested, we’ll get you back here and you can begin training as a member of E-Force. What do you reckon?’
Abu looked stunned and he shook his head. He turned from one grown up to another. ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he said with a cheeky grin.
Epilogue
Reduit Beach, St Lucia
The tall, extremely thin man in baggy, brightly patterned bathing shorts looked comical. Except for a few random patches of sunburn, he was as pale as a ghost and his long, grey, plaited beard made him look like an ancient shaman. The local kids thought he was hilarious.
He was a contented man. He felt he had won a battle and was now enjoying the spoils. He had not been greedy. He knew the FBI would be going through the accounts of the Four Horseman with a fine-toothed comb, but he had ways to alter those accounts without leaving a single trace. The only risk would have come from bleeding the funds too dry, making himself noticeable. So he had settled upon the figure of 250 million euros.
He transferred 100 million into a succession of online accounts for himself. These would be totally invisible. The remaining 150 million he gave anonymously to a collection of carefully chosen charities that had sprung up in the immediate aftermath of the Eurotunnel and Cloud Tower attacks. These charities had been established to help the families of those who had died in the two concurrent incidents. He was a man with his own morality system and that system dictated that he could mess with the financial structure of the world but he would not kill or injure innocent people. He felt guilty by association and needed to appease his gods.
He turned and glanced up at the imposing ultra-modern splendour of the hotel at the top of the beach. The Jade Mountain, a perfect place to lie low for a while. Then he rested back his head, rubbed a touch more sunscreen over his concave, pink stomach and began to contemplate what he would buy first.
AFTERSHOCK
Sam Fisher
Crisis: Crippled Underwater Hotel in Pacific Ocean
Situation: Critical
Solution: E-Force
For billionaire Michael Xavier, the completion of the Neptune Hotel off Fiji is the fulfilment of a childhood dream and adult obsession – to build a visionary five-star resort deep on the ocean floor.
However on Grand Opening night the unthinkable happens. A series of massive earth tremors destroys the hotel and leaves a handful of survivors, including Xavier himself, attemp-ting the impossible – to escape from a crumbling building 100 metres underwater.
Within seconds of the disaster, the crack E-Force rescue team is briefed, mobilised and en route to Fiji. But the situation is far more dangerous than they could ever know.
For this is no natural disaster. There is a very real enemy at work – and his plans threaten the entire world.
E-Force’s latest heart-stopping mission is an adrenaline-fuelled, action thriller!
STATE OF EMERGENCY
Sam Fisher
E-Force: six gifted, highly trained individuals
Mission: specialist rescue in times of global emergency
The Emergency Force team – including former marine Mark Harrison, Space Shuttle pilot Maiko Buchanan and cyber-genius Tom Erickson – employs some of the most highly advanced equipment on the planet, from Mach-10 jets to incredible cybersuits that make the wearer almost superhuman.
And they’ll need all the gadgetry they can get for their first mission – saving the life of US Senator Kyle Foreman.
As Foreman gives a speech in LA, two bombs rip through the Conference Center where he and thousands of his supporters have gathered. Many die. Miraculously, Foreman survives – but he’s trapped inside, as fires rage and floors collapse.
While E-Force plan their perilous route into the building, so too does The Dragon, a psychotic assassin who will let nothing and no one get in the way of his deadly mission . . .
State of Emergency is the first of the E-Force series: high-octane, heart-stopping, action-packed thrillers.