“Can I ask a question sir?”
“Fire away. It’s not as if I have anything better to do,” Donaghue said, as he peered over the top of the book he was now reading. Connors noted with some amusement that it was ‘Great Expectations’ by Charles Dickens.
“What are Khadrae?”
Connors’ question took Donaghue by surprise, that was obvious from the way he lowered his book and started playing with his gold cufflinks.
“Agent Connors, that sort of information is classified at the highest level. May I ask where you heard that name mentioned?”
“One of the Nightshade Division soldiers mentioned in passing that they weren’t looking forward to having to deal with the Khadrae again. Putting two and two together, our security detail think its likely that these Khadrae caused the massacre in the Great Hall.”
“Oh hell,” muttered Donaghue, “That explains a lot. Shit. Oh shit, shit, shit. We’ve been dropped right in it.”
Connors was puzzled but didn’t show it. This wasn’t quite the answer he had expected. He didn’t say anything and let Donaghue continue.
Donaghue rose from the chair and poured himself a large whisky from a crystal decanter. He took a sip and felt its liquid fire slip down his throat into his stomach. It felt good and calmed him.
“The Khadrae are the result of an experiment in biological engineering and a breeding programme specially designed to produce the ultimate close combat warrior. We succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the British received information that our ally who assisted us in producing and enhancing the Khadrae has betrayed us. If New Atlantis is under attack from the Khadrae then that would bear their concerns out and we are deep down in the damned doo doo.”
“The British seem to think we brought these Khadrae with us,” Connors pointed out.
“As I said, the British are stupid,” Donaghue said testily.
“They can also stop us from getting off this city, at the very least incarcerate us and declare war on the United States, a war which we would find very difficult to win.”
“Well, what can I do?” asked Donaghue almost plaintively. “If there are Khadrae in this city then we didn’t put them here.”
Connors thought about it. “Could be a black operation,” he said using the slang for a clandestine military exercise.
“Could be. Could be,” Donaghue took another slug of whisky, sincerely hoping that this was not the case. He flopped back down on the chair and loosened his tie. “I hope not. We really don’t need this.” Donaghue seriously doubted Connors black operation theory. It didn't wash with him particularly as he knew that the President truly wanted peace and had always been unhappy with the thought of allying with the Core. But if that was the case then where had the Khadrae come from? If not from the States and by proxy, the Core, then where? The beasts were Atlantean so perhaps they had survived the flooding? A possibility... He pursed his lips as he mulled it over.
Connors looked up at the ceiling. He thought he’d heard something. A scratch, a scrabble of some sort…
“What was that?” asked Donaghue, warily searching the room.
“I don’t know, senator,” said Connors as he rose from his seat. There it was again, louder and more insistent from up in the ceiling as if something was climbing along the inside of the ventilation ducts.
“All agents - Connors here. We have a possible situation,” Connors spoke into his walkie talkie.
“Affirmative Agent Connors. There are people in the air ducts. We’re moving possible targets to safety.”
“Affirmative. Everyone stay in touch. The Brits might be up to something.”
Connors signed off and strode over to Donaghue.
“Come with me,” Connors told a bewildered Donaghue. Connors didn’t wait for Donaghue to rise, grabbing him by the arm and easily dragging the heavy built man upright and bundling him into a corner of the room behind a heavy well padded seat.
“Stay there and don’t move until I say so,” said Connors, extracting his handgun from his shoulder holster. The scratching was more persistent now and Connors could hear metal bending and tearing. Coloured plaster fell onto the plush carpet as a crack appeared in the ceiling. Connors took aim.
The crack widened and with a squeal of tearing metal, the ceiling collapsed and five night black creatures invaded the brightly lit space, screeching wildly as they did so, spittle dripping from their red fangs. Connors shot one twice through the head before it had even touched the deep carpet. Another took a single step towards the waiting man before it too was shot twice with unerring accuracy through its left eye. Before Connors could loose off any more deadly shots the remaining three Khadrae were on him, lightening fast, jumping over the cushioned seats, claws held forward in a deadly embrace. Connors dropped his gun leaving his hands free. The first Khadrae hit him gouging deep marks in the Connors’ side that would have killed any normal man. Connors however was no normal man and without flinching he punched the attacking Khadrae hard on the jaw, shattering teeth, breaking its neck and throwing the animal up into the air in an arc that ended with a sickening crack of bones as it hit the bookshelves on the far wall.
If the remaining two Khadrae showed any surprise at this demonstration of force then they did not show it as they continued their merciless attack. One clamped its jaws around Connors’ right arm and the other slashed at Connors’ left leg cutting easily through material and flesh, leaving a ragged raw red mark that exposed a metal bone. Connors barely noticed and, easily lifting the Khadrae that was attempting to chew through his arm, he brought the struggling creature down hard on its compatriot whose legs snapped with the force of the blow, splaying awkwardly as it collapsed. It snapped feebly at Connors’ ankles and Connors brought his foot down hard on its skull spraying grey goo over the carpet.
Dealing with the Khadrae that was still attached to his arm was simplicity in itself. Stunned, it had not let go of Connors’ arm so he walked over to the steel airlock door and smashed the black head against the door.
Donaghue looked over the back of the seat he’d been pushed behind just a minute before, eyes wide with shock and terror.
“Are you alright Connors?” asked Donaghue shakily.
“I’m not bad. I think I’d better see a doctor of some sort soon though. I’m losing a lot of blood,” replied Connors as he sat down, crimson liquid dripping from his lacerated side wound and flowing freely from his leg. “Those were Khadrae?”
“Uhmm… Yes,” Donaghue didn’t see any point hiding anything now.
“Well, they’ve attacked Polanksi and some of the others as well. Lucky for everyone, we’re here as bodyguards.”
Donaghue knew that the agents had part of their bodies replaced with artificial materials to enhance their endurance and strength but even so he was stunned the way that Connors had gone through the Khadrae. And another thing. The Khadrae were definitely not American. Their claws and teeth were normal and had not been replaced by metal ones. Definitely Atlantean throwbacks. Donaghue could only deduce that the Core controlled them and was attempting to foil the peace talks. Even if the Core wasn't controlling them it made the job of selling the peace deal to the people back home far easier. Donaghue was thankful for small mercies.
The airlock door was pushed open with a clang and three policemen rushed in batons at the ready.
“Leave this to me Connors,” said Donaghue pulling himself up and straightening his suit, beginning to look the powerful senator he was and not the frightened man he had been. “I’ll deal with this.”
Connors was happy to leave it all to Donaghue as darkness fuzzed around the edge of his vision before closing quickly in on him.
My children… Our connection is weakening. I cannot feel you all anymore. My children… I feel your death pains. I feel sustenance flowing to me, feeding me, invigorating me, I feel… I feel… your pain. Come back to me my children. You have killed enough. We must recover, we must become stro
nger. We will prevail.
“I can assure you beyond all doubt, Lord Halford, that the United States of American would not dream of attacking a peace conference. It is not in our interests and… and…” Senator Donaghue was struggling to make himself clear against the hostility and sheer animosity radiating from the British delegates. He bravely continued, “We just quite simply would not do it. For God’s sake! I myself was attacked! Senator Polanski was attacked and is now in the infirmary with serious injuries!”
“So you’re saying you can’t control your Khadrae, is that what you’re saying? Your sneak attack on New Atlantis has gone astray and you’re now trying to cover it up,” Lord Halford’s rounded vowels echoed around the large chamber.
“Lord Halford, I can give my own personal guarantee that the United States had nothing to do with this attack. I can only assume that the British intelligence about the Core is correct and it is now stabbing us in the back.”
Lord Halford searched Donaghue’s face any sign of deceit and failed to find any. Donaghue was a seasoned politician and could be hiding the lies behind a façade but Lord Halford prided himself on seeing through such façades.
“Very well, Senator. However, the Empire now requests that it be allowed access to your Khadrae breeding ground. We will assist American forces in destroying the Khadrae.”
This would be awkward, Donaghue thought to himself. But the British were giving him a way out, a way to avoid a war despite everything that had happened. Donaghue knew he had no choice but to accept the British offer. Foreign military, especially British military, on American soil would not go down well back home but Donaghue was sure he would get assistance from the Secret Service and General Bartlett in explaining the reasons. It could also be seen as a spirit of co-operation which generally went down well with everyone.
“Very well, Lord Halford,” Donaghue finally heard himself say. “Foreign military presence on US soil is not something I can give my guarantee on but I will recommend that such assistance would be helpful and strengthen ties between our countries.”
“Excellent, Senator,” said Lord Halford standing up and holding out his right hand. “I wish you all the best.”
Donaghue took Halford’s hand and shook it warmly.
15 The Infirmary
“Good morning, Mr Murdoch. How are you feeling?”
The world was in soft focus, a blur of white and warm yellow. Murdoch could see movement, a pinkish blur surrounded by a halo of light. He was in hospital again, he thought. Beginning to make a dashed bad habit of this. He couldn’t feel any pain. Everything was warm and fuzzy so he was definitely pumped up with drugs. Murdoch went back to sleep without answering the question he’d been asked.
“Miss Archer, I really must insist. Mr Murdoch is badly wounded and has been heavily sedated.”
“Well then, you’ll have no objections in letting me see him will you?”
“I’m under strict orders to ensure that he is left alone and given time to recover.”
“And I’m giving you strict orders to get out of my way this minute. I will not be long and I can assure you that I have no intention of harming Mr Murdoch.”
There was an exasperated sigh and Murdoch could imagine Jane giving the doctor that steely look that meant she would not give in until she got her own way.
“Very well. Five minutes, but no more. Mr Murdoch is very ill.”
“Yes, I heard you the first time. I’m not deaf,” replied Jane testily.
Murdoch heard curtains being drawn back and the click, click of Jane’s heeled boots as she walked up to the bed followed by a pause and slight gasp. Jolly good. I must look a right state if Jane is concerned for me, he chuckled listlessly to himself. He found it hard to think just now as coloured pains shot across his closed eyes in blue and red lines. A short scrape signalled that Jane had pulled up a chair and she sat down, leaning on the bed as she did so.
“Oh, John. You stupid, stupid man. Just look at you,” she said so quietly that Murdoch strained to hear her. “What a mess you are.” Murdoch felt her hand slip into his, a lovely soft thing that stroked his palm with a tenderness he hadn’t felt in too long.
He deliberately stirred himself so Jane wouldn’t be aware that he’d heard her. She was a proud woman and she didn’t like people to know there was a softer side to the hard faced harridan act she usually put on. Murdoch felt her hand hurriedly remove itself from his grasp. His sight was still fuzzy and soft focussed, but not as much as before and the delicate features of Jane Archer floated into view. The effect was somewhat spoilt by the fact she pursed her lips and looked disapprovingly at him, turning on that iron look that turned grown men into useless lumps. Murdoch was used to it though and he smiled weakly.
“Hello Jane. How are you?”
“Hmmh. I’m in far better condition than you are, you bloody fool. Captain Riley had the situation well in hand before you decided to bulldoze your way through the Khadrae. You’re an idiot. A total utter blithering idiot.”
“How nice to see you too, dear…”
“Do you dare ‘dear’ me.”
Jane sat back heavily on her chair, arms folded, her brow furrowed stormily.
“Still, it’s nice to see you,” said Murdoch. “How am I? No one has told me what condition I’m in.”
“Can’t you feel what condition you’re in?”
“Not pumped full of painkillers I can’t. I’m feeling a bit achy to be honest.”
“Achy? A bit achy?!? John, you were lucky to escape alive! You were well on your way to being ripped apart before Captain Riley rescued you.”
“Oh no. Oh no no no no… Riley didn’t rescue me did he? I’ll never hear the end of that one you know. When we’re seventy Riley will still be reminding me of the time he saved me from the savage clutches of the black creatures from hell,” Murdoch laughed weakly.
“If the pair of you live to be seventy that is,” Jane countered.
“That’s true. So I’m in bad shape. What happened with the Khadrae? And the Americans?”
“Captain Riley managed to shoot a good number of Khadrae and they then broke and ran but just quite where to we don’t know. It’s still being looked into but thankfully it’s out of our hands,” replied Jane losing her frown and leaning forward to smooth a slight crease out of the bed covers. “One thing you will be very interested to hear. The Khadrae attacked the American delegation.”
“Oh ho! Really? I bet that was a shock for them!” Murdoch struggled to sit up for the first time feeling the tightness on his back where he’d been stitched up.
“Stay down for God’s sake! You really are not well,” hissed Jane, effortlessly pushing him back down onto the bed. “And yes, I think it was a shock for them. I don’t think they quite believed us when we told them the Core would turn against them. But there’s something else…”
A wave of nausea flowed through Murdoch but he ignored it. “Oh yes? What?”
“The Khadrae that attacked New Atlantis. They’re different from the Khadrae that we’ve come across previously. They’re smaller and they’re equipped with normal teeth and claws, not metal ones like we’ve seen.”
Murdoch shrugged or at least tried to. “A special variant maybe? Shock troop style tactics?”
“I don’t think so. Captain Riley said that these were the Khadrae that attacked his Nightshade team on Atlantis when they were testing out the power armour a few months ago. There could be something else out there that can control the Khadrae.”
“Could be. Don’t let the Americans know. Does the Nucleus have any gen?”
Jane hesitated before answering. “I don’t know. The Nucleus makes me uneasy sometimes, as if it knows far far more than what it lets on. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was controlling those Khadrae.”
Murdoch raised an eyebrow. “You really think so?”
Jane nodded, “Yes. Its changed some how. I don’t know what makes me think that, but it just seems different from when I first stumb
led across it.”
Murdoch filed that information away for future use.
“What’s happening now though?” asked Murdoch as Jane fell into a thoughtful silence.
“I’m not supposed to know this, of course, but Captain Riley and MI6 are planning an 'inspection' of the Khadrae breeding grounds in America.”
“They’re going to help the Americans destroy the base? Why don’t they just bomb the place and have it done and dusted?” Murdoch knew the answer to that question but hoped Jane would prove him wrong.
“The Americans are after the technology that is installed on the base. MI6 are after it as well. It’s going to be a fun job. I don’t know who’ll be the most dangerous. The Khadrae or the American Secret Service.”
Murdoch laughed a hollow laugh before stopping abruptly and wincing with pain. “Uh… One will be as bad as the other. When is the mission going ahead?”
Jane didn’t answer straight away as she knew Murdoch was fishing because he wanted to go. “You won’t be going, that’s for sure. Grimes has already assigned Newton as MI6’s representative.”
“What? Newton? Rodney Newton? Now come on. He’s a good man but he won’t be able stand up to Riley. Who’s in charge?”
“Colonel Scott is in charge of a unit of Commandos. Captain Riley is taking in Nightshade. Newton is nominally in charge but let’s face it, as you say, he’s going to struggle to command Riley. Scott is just as mule headed.”
“Are they taking the Excalibur?” asked Murdoch referring to legendary dreadnaught operated by Military Intelligence.
“If only. The job would be much easier that way. The US has refused to allow any dreadnaught class ships in their airspace. We’re flying in direct from Canada on converted Manchester bombers.”
“Excellent,” muttered Murdoch sarcastically. Then it clicked. “What do you mean ‘we’? You’re not going are you?”
“Yes, I am going thank you very much,” Jane snapped rather huffily. “And why shouldn’t I?”
An Atlantean Triumvirate Page 20