by Mark Walden
‘It seems I am not the only one who has less than total confidence in this plan, Mr Malpense. I am inclined to think that a deep-cover infiltration is still the best, if somewhat time-consuming, route to acquiring details of Nero’s current location.’ Darkdoom sounded like he had already made up his mind.
‘I can do it,’ Otto said calmly.
‘So you say, but you offer no proof of that. An operation like this is too dangerous to rely so completely on your self-confidence alone. While you may be willing to risk your own life and those of your friends in such a way, I am not.’
Otto sat silently for a moment, as if weighing up his options.
‘How secure are the Megalodon’s systems?’ he asked, frowning.
‘As secure as it is possible to make them with current technology,’ Darkdoom replied. ‘Why?’
‘Just wondered,’ Otto said and closed his eyes.
For a few long seconds the others sat at the table in confused silence. Only Wing seemed unconcerned by Otto’s sudden silence.
‘Are you all right, Otto?’ Laura asked, sounding slightly confused.
‘Mr Malpense,’ Darkdoom said with a frown, ‘what are you . . .’
Suddenly the room fell dark and the familiar background hum of the giant submarine’s engines was replaced with perfect silence. From outside of the briefing room they could hear cries of dismay and alarm.
‘Reactor’s offline!’ one voice shouted.
‘Lost helm control; she’s dead in the water,’ someone else reported in a startled voice.
Suddenly the large monitor on the wall of the briefing room displayed a single phrase in foot-high white letters casting a ghostly glow across the astonished faces surrounding the table.
WE CAN DO THIS.
Moments later the display went dark and the lights came back on in the briefing room. From outside they could hear shouted reports of the Megalodon’s systems coming back online.
‘Now do you believe me?’ Otto said. He looked paler than usual but there was a triumphant gleam in his eye. ‘You may have a team you think can pull this off, but they won’t be able to do what I just did. You need me, and if I’m going, so are the others.’
Darkdoom looked hard at Otto for a few seconds before hitting a switch on the table in front of him and speaking to the air.
‘Captain Sanders,’ he said in a firm voice.
‘Yes, sir,’ Sanders voice replied over the intercom.
‘Set course for the English Channel, maximum speed.’
‘Aye aye, sir.’
The Contessa burst into the Professor’s quarters without warning.
‘Where is she?’ she snapped, striding across the room as Professor Pike put down the book he had been reading.
‘Who?’ the Professor replied innocently.
‘Don’t play games with me, Professor. Ms Leon, where is she?’ the Contessa said angrily.
‘I’m afraid I have no idea,’ the Professor said with a smile.
‘And I suppose you have no idea what this is either?’ the Contessa said coldly, holding up the tiny relay device that Ms Leon had placed beneath H.I.V.E.mind’s core just a few hours before.
‘Oh, that’s a data relay,’ the Professor said. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘You know perfectly well where we found it, Professor,’ the Contessa spat. ‘And now you’re going tell me where I can find Ms Leon.’
‘I told you, I don’t know.’
‘Tell me where she is,’ the Contessa said, the whispers of command twining through her voice.
‘I don’t know,’ the Professor said, feeling the words leap from his lips unbidden. He was suddenly very glad that he really did not know.
‘Then perhaps you can tell me who broke into the storage vaults at exactly the same time that we were deactivating H.I.V.E.mind,’ the Contessa said, sounding even more angry.
‘Which storage vault?’ the Professor asked, feeling a sudden, welcome glimmer of hope.
‘Vault nine, which also happens to be the vault where all of your secret little projects are stored,’ the Contessa replied, ‘though I suppose you know nothing about that either.’
‘You’re quite right,’ the Professor said cheerfully, ‘not a thing. You could have checked the surveillance recordings, of course, but . . . oh . . . wait a minute, you’d need H.I.V.E.mind for that, wouldn’t you, and he seems to have gone offline.’
The Contessa looked at him for a moment, as if trying to decide what to do.
‘I tire of these games, Professor,’ she snarled. ‘I am placing you under detention until I know exactly what is going on here.’
Two Phalanx operatives walked into the room.
‘Take the Professor to the detention area,’ the Contessa said quickly. ‘Perhaps some of his co-conspirators might want to pay him a visit.’
The Phalanx operatives grabbed the Professor by the arms and shoved him roughly from the room. The Contessa looked at the disorganised mess in the Professor’s room with disgust. If there was one thing she hated it was chaos, and this situation seemed to be getting more chaotic by the minute.
Otto walked into the Megalodon’s armoury and was immediately struck by the impressive efficiency with which Darkdoom’s men were preparing the equipment they would need for the upcoming operation. Raven stood in the middle of the room, holding a thermoptic camouflage suit and demonstrating to one of the men exactly what modifications she needed him to make. She glanced up and saw Otto, giving the man a final instruction before walking over to him.
‘The equipment is nearly ready. We’re going to have fun trying to pack it all into the mini-subs, but I think we’ll manage,’ she said calmly.
‘Good,’ Otto said. ‘I hope we’ve thought of everything.’
‘In my experience there is always something you need that you don’t have, but that’s what keeps things interesting.’ Raven smiled.
‘I think this is going to be interesting enough as it is.’
‘Yes – are you sure you’re ready for this?’ Raven was studying his face carefully.
‘No, but it’s still got to be done,’ Otto replied with a slight frown.
‘Do you mind me asking what exactly you did in the briefing room?’ Raven said quietly.
‘Would you believe me if I told you that I honestly don’t know?’
‘Strangely, I would,’ Raven replied. ‘You’re quite full of surprises, aren’t you?’
‘That’s one way of putting it,’ Otto chuckled.
‘What about the others? I know how capable you all are, but you have such limited operational experience.’
‘We’ve had good teachers,’ Otto said with a smile, ‘and you’ve got to take the training wheels off sooner or later.’
‘If it’s any consolation I was almost exactly the same age as you when I was given my first operation,’ Raven said.
‘And how did that go?’ Otto asked, curious to learn more of Raven’s mysterious past.
‘It was a complete disaster.’ She absent-mindedly traced a finger down the long scar that ran across her cheek. ‘But in a funny way it was a good job that it went as badly as it did.’
‘What happened?’ Otto asked, his curiosity now thoroughly piqued.
‘That’s a story for another day,’ she replied quietly.
Otto was about to press for more information when Darkdoom entered the armoury and walked over to the pair of them.
‘How are we doing?’ he asked, looking serious.
‘We’ll be ready when the Megalodon arrives on target,’ Raven replied.
‘Excellent,’ Darkdoom said, surveying the equipment that lay arranged around the room. ‘Otto, I need to speak to Raven. Would you excuse us for a moment?’
Otto nodded and walked out of the room.
‘You realise how dangerous this is,’ Darkdoom said quietly.
‘Of course, but I don’t really see that we have much choice.’
‘They seem unusually capable. Nero would
be proud. Malpense is especially gifted. My technicians still have no idea what he did to the Megalodon’s systems.’
‘I’m not sure he does himelf,’ Raven replied, ‘but I believe he can do what he needs to.’
‘Yes, so do I. I’m starting to understand why the Initiative have such an acute interest in him – which makes me even more unsure we should be letting him walk into the lion’s den like this.’
‘I’ll be watching his back,’ Raven replied.
‘Of course you will. But you do understand that we cannot allow him to be captured, don’t you? If there is no means of escape you know what you will have to do.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Raven said, looking down at the floor. ‘Let’s pray that it doesn’t come to that.’
.
Chapter Eight
The unmarked black helicopter raced low over the night skyline of London. It had met the five-man infiltration team at the appointed rendezvous area and once the equipment had been hurriedly transferred from the mini-subs on to the chopper it had immediately taken off, bound for central London.
On board, the pilot glanced over his shoulder at the five masked figures sat in the rear passenger compartment. He had never seen anything quite like the outfits they were all wearing, a kind of skintight black body armour that was covered in a subtle hexagonal pattern that reflected the light in an unusual way. They all wore sophisticated helmets that completely concealed their identities and had what looked like night-vision goggles mounted on the front. He had no idea what this was all about but he had learnt long ago not to ask questions when he was hired by certain individuals.
‘OK,’ the pilot said, ‘five minutes to target. This is some of the most restricted airspace in the country so you need to move fast once we’re on site.’
One of the armoured figures in the back gave a curt nod of acknowledgement.
‘And there will be no pickup if things go pear-shaped,’ the pilot added. ‘Once I’ve dropped you lot off I’m getting out of there low and fast, understood?’
Again the leader of the team merely nodded and then turned back to looking out of the window.
‘Three minutes,’ the pilot said after a few moments and the team in the rear of the helicopter began to move into action. They slipped into harnesses that were in turn attached to coiled ropes arranged on the floor of the helicopter, checking each other’s rigging and making sure that everything was secure. The leader of the group surveyed the rest of the team and, apparently satisfied, hauled open first the hatch on one side of the helicopter and then the other. The team split, three bracing themselves against the hatch on one side and two on the other.
‘One minute,’ the pilot yelled over the noise of the thumping rotor blades and rushing wind that now filled the cabin. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see all five of them apparently vanish into thin air. He fought to control his surprise and keep the helicopter on the correct course.
Beneath the helicopter five high-tensile lines stretched taut, as if each was carrying some kind of invisible burden. The helicopter raced along the river, heading straight for the imposing headquarters of Britain’s elite intelligence service. As it shot over the roof of the building the five lines beneath it suddenly cut loose, flapping wildly in the wind.
On the roof of the imposing building Raven landed silently, rolled to a kneeling position and scanned her surroundings. She quickly spotted the solitary guard on the roof who was watching the helicopter as it dived for the Thames and raced away along the river. She moved silently towards the man as he went for the radio clipped to his belt. Just as he was about to speak into it she slipped one arm around his throat and with the other hand pulled the pistol from his belt, pressing the cold muzzle against the side of his head.
‘Tell them it was nothing to worry about,’ she whispered in his ear.
‘I’m not going to do that,’ the guard replied firmly.
‘Do it or I’ll drop you right here,’ Raven whispered.
‘I don’t think you will,’ the guard said calmly. ‘You pull that trigger and every guard in this building will be up here in minutes.’
‘Enough?’ Raven said.
‘Aye, that’ll do,’ Laura said from just behind her.
‘Thanks for the help,’ Raven said to the guard and tightened the hold on his neck. The guard dropped silently to the ground, unconscious.
Laura pulled a tiny notebook computer from a holster on her hip and plugged the recording device that she’d been holding into it. Nothing happened for a moment and then a window popped up.
VOICEPRINT ANALYSIS COMPLETE
Just a moment later the guard’s radio crackled into life.
‘Roof station, we just recorded an overflight down here. Everything OK up there?’ the voice on the radio enquired.
Laura hit a key on her computer and spoke into the radio. The voice that came from the tiny speakers on the front of her helmet was not her own but a perfect duplicate of the guard who now lay unconscious on the roof in front of her.
‘Nothing to worry about,’ she said. ‘Just a tourist chopper that a got bit too close.’
‘OK, roof station, roger that,’ the voice on the radio replied and cut the line.
Raven smiled beneath her mask as three more figures that only she could see through her specially modified goggles jogged across the roof towards her.
‘Raven to control,’ she whispered into her throat mic, ‘team is down and clear. Proceeding on target.’
‘Understood,’ a voice crackled in her earpiece.
‘Are the exit kits hidden?’ she asked as the other three approached.
Wing gave a quick nod.
‘OK. Shelby, Wing, door,’ Raven said quickly. ‘Laura, let me know when you have the signal strength you need. Otto, with me.’
Shelby and Wing moved quickly to a nearby roof access door. Raven in turn moved to the security camera covering the door and placed a relay collar on the cable running from it. The relay intercepted and recorded a few seconds of footage of the undamaged door and then began to loop the same few seconds over and over again.
‘Camera’s blind, go,’ Raven whispered.
Shelby pulled a small black box from her backpack and started methodically sweeping it over the door and the surrounding frame. A strip of LEDs on the device leapt from green to red and back again as she moved it slowly back and forth. Apparently satisfied, she delved back into her pack and brought out a neat plastic case, which she opened, taking out four small metallic discs and attaching them to specific points on the door frame. Tiny red lights blinked on each of the discs for a couple of seconds and then turned green. Shelby gave a small nod to Wing and he produced two suction pads with handles from his own pack. He held them to the door and there was a tiny hiss of compressed air escaping. He pulled on the handles, testing their hold, and then gave a quick nod to Shelby. She quickly unclipped a small gun with a gas canister mounted on it from her belt and, pressing it against the door, began to draw a large rectangle. The gun left a tiny steaming trail behind it as the compressed liquid nitrogen in the canister instantly froze the metal of the door to several hundred degrees below zero. Shelby completed the rectangle and Wing gave a small grunt as he pulled on the handles and that entire section of the door came away, the intense cold having weakened it sufficiently.
Raven watched as Shelby, Laura and Wing headed through the neat hole. Satisfied that they were all safely inside she moved quickly over to where Otto was crouched next to a nondescript metal hatch in the roof.
‘They’re in,’ she whispered. ‘You ready?’
Otto nodded and watched the precious seconds tick past on the mission clock in the corner of his head-up display.
Inside, Shelby, Laura and Wing headed quietly down the stairs. Now they were inside they did not need to worry about the cameras that were positioned at regular intervals in the stairwell; their thermoptic camouflage suits took care of that. Laura found it slightly unnerving being hidden in
plain sight like this, the skin of her suit projecting a flawless holographic image of her surroundings that would fool all but the most careful observers and masking all of the heat given off by her body. It was a miniaturised version of the same technology used to cloak the Shroud transports, and while the system was certainly impressive she couldn’t help but feel dangerously exposed. She silently scolded herself for her nervousness and focused her attention on the small ever-climbing bar that was displayed on her HUD. As they descended the next flight of stairs the bar crossed a critical threshold and began to flash.
‘OK, this floor,’ Laura whispered. Wing moved to a position where he could see anyone coming up the stairs from below as Shelby and Laura examined the door. Shelby pointed silently to the card reader that was mounted on the door and Laura nodded. She pulled the tiny computer, no bigger than a paperback book, from the holster on her hip and connected a short length of ribbon cable to it. On the other end of the cable was a plain white plastic card with a magnetic strip. She slid the card into the reader mounted on the door and began to tap away quickly at the computer keyboard. Just a few seconds later there was a satisfying click as the door unlocked.
‘Now I know what I want for my birthday,’ Shelby whispered and behind her mask Laura smiled despite her nerves.
Wing moved between them and slid a narrow flexible tube under the door. At the end of the tube was an eyepiece that showed what was on the other side of the door. Satisfied that no one was waiting for them in the darkened corridor beyond, he silently opened the door and stepped through. The three of them moved quickly along the corridor to an empty office. The door was locked but Shelby’s picks made short work of the old-fashioned mechanical lock. They stepped inside and closed the door behind them. Wing scanned the room for any sign of cameras or motion sensors. Seeing none, he reached up and pressed the tiny stud on his helmet, just behind the ear, that deactivated the thermoptic camouflage. The suits’ batteries were good but they would not last for ever.
‘Team two to team one, we are in position. Commencing network infiltration,’ Wing reported. Laura was already tapping away at the keyboard of her computer, testing the security of the building’s wireless network now that the signal strength was high enough.