by Andy Briggs
“Everything is in place here,” he said.
“We have a problem. They’re coming to you right now and I can’t stall them.”
Lee stopped in his tracks. “How could they have possibly found me?”
“Stoker has a biochip in his skull. Perhaps you shouldn’t have kidnapped him?”
“I’m a fan! It was too good an opportunity. Besides, I thought if something goes wrong with the Osprey, he’s the man we need.” His calm demeanour evaporated. He bellowed his frustration at the sky and it took all his willpower to stop himself from tossing the pad into the ocean.
Lee took a breath to calm his rising panic. “And don’t forget who you’re talking to, matey. This is my plan, I’m allowed to make changes. And I have not risked everything with Helix, with the Collector, with nearly dying in that blasted Inventory … just to have them stop me at the last moment!”
“There’s nothing more I can do this end. I’ve got to go.” The line went dead.
Lee slowly turned, taking in the expansive ocean horizon, then his gaze lifted to the clear skies above as he wondered from which direction the attack would come…
Space came at a premium inside the assault craft, and Dev was feeling hot, sweaty and claustrophobic. It didn’t help that he was crammed in with Lot and Wan-Soo. Mason, Aaron and Riya had been allocated a separate vehicle in what Eema had described as a two-pronged attack to maximize their chances of success.
Wan-Soo had his eyes closed, as if in meditation, which left Dev and Lot sitting in an awkward silence that Dev eventually broke.
“So … what did you end up doing last night?” Lot looked straight at him, as if suspicious of his motives. “You know, watch anything on telly? Talk to anyone…”
Lot was reluctant to answer, but she did in a flat voice. “I met up with Nathan.”
Dev looked sidelong at her. She avoided looking at him and stared straight ahead at the metal bulkhead. Nathan the spy? Nathan the wedge that had been planted to break up the team? The accusations swirled through Dev’s head. But he didn’t say anything. As far as they were both concerned, the conversation was over and they didn’t say another word until they were fired out of the moving vehicle at high speed.
“AAARRRGH!” Dev, Lot and Wan-Soo screamed in perfect unison.
As they had neared their target, a Consortium soldier had joined them in their cramped compartment and helped them slide into pill-shaped canisters just big enough to fit them in their bulky combat clothes.
They had then been fired from the stealth submarine at high velocity. The small canisters were Water-Darts, basically torpedoes that could carry a single occupant and were designed to cut through the water at supersonic speeds. The hope was that they would be travelling too fast for the oil rig’s aquatic threat detectors to pick them up.
All Dev knew for sure was that their little Darts had almost no manoeuvrability at such speeds, and it was all they could do to hold on and hope the autopilot worked; otherwise they would strike the legs of the oil rig.
With a sudden blast from their water jets, the Darts rapidly slowed, coming to a preprogrammed stop at one of the rig’s massive circular legs, just a metre below the surface. Dev knew what was coming next, but still wasn’t ready for it.
The Dart suddenly filled with seawater that was so cold it almost took his breath away. As the pressure equalized with the water outside, a hatch slid open, allowing them to swim out and converge at the leg. Luckily their combat suits were designed for just such an occasion and made from super-buoyant waterproof material.
Dev found the short swim tough going. Despite the pleasant day, the waves surged around them, lifting them three metres up and then down. It took almost all his stamina to make it into position. As they bobbed upwards, their special adhesive gloves anchored them in place against the leg, above the waterline. Craning their necks, they could see the platform twenty storeys above them. It was going to be an arduous climb.
And it was. Their movements were awkward as they peeled their hands and feet off the smooth steel leg in precise motions, like Sellotape unfurling. Based on the microscopic ridges in a gecko’s foot, the suit allowed them to climb almost any surface – but one misplaced step and they would plummet into the icy waters below.
Wan-Soo yelled as his hand failed to adhere and he slid several metres down the leg before he managed to stop himself. Dev and Lot wished they could pluck their earpieces out to stop his screams from deafening them. After that, they all proceeded at a more cautionary pace.
They were halfway up when they detected a tremor in the leg. It slowly gained ferocity until they could all hear it. The sound came from one of the mighty legs opposite them. Dev had to shift position before he noticed the Osprey rocket strapped to the side of the leg, mounted on a specially constructed gantry. Smoke was pouring from the three boosters as they rose in pitch.
“It’s preparing to launch!”
Dev had seen enough rockets taking off on television to know that forty metres was not a safe distance to be from the business end of a rocket during take-off.
“Go for cover around the other side!” he yelled, shuffling around the leg as he did so.
Now they could hear a warning klaxon from the deck above. The tone of the engines increased until it became a dull throbbing in their ears.
Dev’s arms ached as he hauled himself around the far side of the leg and bumped into Lot, who had scuttled counter-clockwise.
“Where’s Wan-Soo?”
Even over the headset her words were almost drowned out as the Osprey’s three boosters erupted with a ferocious blast of fire and the rocket began to rise.
Dev and Lot closed their eyes and screamed as fire blossomed along the underside of the rig. The huge steel leg they clung to acted as a breaker, and monstrous orange flames rolled either side of them. The intense heat stung their faces.
The more directed flames shot from the boosters, straight into the ocean – vaporizing water in a huge billowing cloud of white steam that smothered Lot and Dev in a thick mist that scalded their lungs as they breathed.
The vibrations from the rig grew in intensity, threatening to detach them… Then it suddenly stopped as the rocket cleared the side of the rig and gracefully arced towards the heavens.
The gentle sea breeze soon cleared the steam away, and Dev was relieved to see Lot was still by his side. Her face was red from the heat, as if she’d been sunbathing all day, and he guessed his was the same. They sucked in cool air and took a moment to compose themselves before remembering that Wan-Soo wasn’t with them.
“Wan-Soo? Come in.” Dev strained to listen for the faintest of responses.
He edged himself around the leg, hoping to see their companion clinging to safety – but he wasn’t there. Peering below they couldn’t see any sign of him in the water. Dev guessed if he’d fallen from this height the water would feel almost as solid as dirt.
Dev and Lot didn’t speak. They just looked at one another as the shock of losing their team member washed over them.
Lee whooped with delight as he ran from the safety of the elevator and on to the platform so he could watch the rocket’s vapour trail circumscribe a path through the clear blue sky.
“Yeah!” he screamed, punching the air victoriously. Although he’d been forced to launch the Osprey earlier than planned, it would still serve its purpose. He glanced towards the sun, careful not to look directly at it, even though it was veiled by a few white clouds. Soon the eclipse would begin, and Black Knight would reveal its secrets.
With a last look up at the slowly vanishing rocket trail, Lee closed the elevator’s cage door and headed below decks to the control room.
Reaching the top of the leg, Lot and Dev hauled themselves on to the comparative safety of the two-metre-square mesh steel floor of a small maintenance platform strung under the deck. Eema had identified several such maintenance areas that would provide access into the bowels of the rig.
As their primary mi
ssion to stop the launch had failed, they decided they could afford a brief pause to gather their strength. Neither wanted to discuss Wan-Soo, fearing it would sap their resolve to complete the mission and stop Lee from reaching Black Knight. They were also aware that everything they said was being transmitted back to the control centre in the Inventory. Only when Lot nodded she was ready to continue on did Dev speak, trying to keep his voice business-like.
“We’re in position. Did you track the rocket?”
Charles replied. “Affirmative. It reached orbit. The odd thing is our scans showed no sign of a human occupant, which raises the question, why launch it in the first place?”
“They must have put something on-board,” said Lot.
Charles’s reply sounded anxious. “But what? When you go in, head straight for the control centre. We have to neutralize Lee’s team as quickly as possible. Rescuing Stoker is secondary. We’re sending in Mason’s unit now. Good luck.”
Dev couldn’t help but feel uneasy when Lot pushed open the access hatch that led inside the belly of the rig. Between Wan-Soo’s death and the mystery behind the rocket launch, he couldn’t help but feel things were about to get a whole lot worse.
Lee cracked his knuckles, studying the Osprey’s telemetry data as it settled into orbit. Eryl Stoker had regained consciousness just prior to the launch, and Lee had him brought to the room to witness it, although Lee felt it was a shame he’d been forced to handcuff Stoker to an office chair to keep him from struggling.
“Your test launch is a complete success!” said Lee with a grin. “Congratulations, you must be proud.”
“I don’t understand what purpose this serves,” Stoker growled, tugging at his cuffs. “Why on earth steal a rocket? You could have hijacked the flight from mission control and—”
Lee wagged a finger. “For a billionaire philanthropist you lack imagination, my friend. Why should I be at the mercy of hacking into your systems just so you could disconnect me at a critical time? No, it’s easier just to take the whole thing.” He tapped a blip on the screen. “That’s your Osprey, now nicely tucked in orbit.” He tapped another dot. “That is Black Knight.” He smiled at the incomprehension on Stoker’s face. “You don’t know about that, do ya?”
He rolled Stoker closer to the screen and leaned over his shoulder. “That is the first private space launch that put man into space.”
“Nonsense, I have never heard of it.”
“Ah, there’s a lot you don’t know.”
“But the technology to launch rockets has only recently—”
Lee used his foot to roll Stoker’s chair back across the room. “Ah, rocket-schmocket. Personally, I love ’em. Big, loud, brash and cool. But there are more elegant ways to rise above the earth.”
A warning beep sounded from the control desk. The technicians looked at one another for a startled moment before Fletch punched up a screen to see what it was.
“Hey, Lee. We’ve got incoming bogeys dropping in.”
“Ah, the cavalry… A little too late, of course. Blast them out of the sky.”
Mason, Riya and Aaron plummeted towards the ocean at speeds the American kept describing as ridiculous. Mason wasn’t exactly enjoying it either, but was forced to put on a brave face to impress Riya, who was bottling her nerves so intently he was sure she was about to explode.
They had bailed out of the Avro at close to fifty thousand feet in a HALO jump – High Altitude, Low Opening – meaning they’d almost hit the ground before deploying their parachutes, although in this instance there was one critical difference.
They didn’t have any parachutes.
Mason wondered how he kept allowing himself to be talked into these stupid things – especially as this was the second time he’d done it. The first time he was wearing a PhantomSuit that ensured he wouldn’t splatter into the ground but rather phase through it. He didn’t have that luxury this time.
Below, their target was lost in the rolling ocean. It took over a minute of freefalling before the oil rig was visible as no more than a speck in the water, which gradually grew in size. Faster and faster—
A missile suddenly arced up from the platform below, leaving a grey plume of smoke in its wake as it corkscrewed towards them.
“Missile launch detected,” said a monotone voice in Mason’s helmet – rather too late, he thought. “Deploying countermeasures.”
Three tiny flares shot out from the pack strapped to Mason’s back. They didn’t look like much, but burned with enough intensity to lure the missile away. Seconds later, Mason saw the explosion as the missile detonated; he was travelling too fast for the sound to reach him.
“Missile launch detected,” said the voice again.
A dozen missiles shot out of two launchers that pivoted on a gimbal below to track their movements.
“Warning. Deploying air brake.”
The trio had been warned about this stage of the jump, but the details had been vague at best.
“Expect to feel a sudden stop,” Charles Parker had told them, “like a car emergency braking.”
The Wing-Packs on their backs suddenly deployed curved delta-shaped wings that caught the air like a parachute and dramatically slowed their fall. Mason felt as if his guts were all being flattened against his ribs.
Dozens more flares shot from their packs like a rather poor firework display. The incoming missiles zeroed in on the new heat sources and rapidly exploded, one after the other.
The trio suddenly soared upwards on a U-shaped track as the miniature ram-jets on their Wing-Packs kicked into action to propel them forward. In seconds they had shifted from freefall into nimble jet fighters that buzzed around the oil rig.
“Woo-hoo!” Riya yelled. “I’m gonna take out the missile launcher on the northeast corner. Watch me and feel jealous, boys!”
Mason couldn’t take his adoring eyes off her as she swooped towards her target…
Dev and Lot pulled the collars of their combat jackets up to protect them from the cold. They were running up the internal metal stairwell as the rig around them violently shook, throwing them against the cylindrical wall.
From the jumbled radio chatter, they couldn’t work out what was happening above, but they hoped it meant that Riya had just destroyed the missile launcher.
Dev looked at the curved screen that floated above his wrist. The 3D map rotated, indicating the command room was just beyond the next hatchway.
Dev gripped the hatch, bracing himself to slide it open. He looked at Lot. “Remember the plan?” She nodded. Dev wanted to say more but couldn’t think of anything appropriate. “Let’s do it.”
He heaved the hatch open and charged into the corridor beyond, drawing a small handgun from his thigh holster as he did so.
“Everybody freeze!” he bellowed.
The technicians all spun around in surprise. Their initial amusement at seeing a teenage boy accost them gave way to genuine concern when they noticed the gun. Even as they watched, the gun barrel extended in length and morphed to twice its width, turning it from a quaint toy to a lethal-looking weapon.
Only Lee didn’t turn around. He was still watching a screen. He waved over his shoulder. “Hi, Dev. You made it at last. And just in time. The eclipse is about to begin.”
“Lee, I will shoot you first.” He couldn’t help but notice Lee was wearing what looked like a black spacesuit.
“Oh, I don’t think so. Before you even managed to squeeze the trigger of that freeze ray, your girlfriend’s brains would be decorating the walls.”
“She’s not my…” Dev bit his lip.
Lee slowly turned around, but didn’t look at Dev. He was looking behind him.
Dev raised the gun in an unmistakable gesture that he was ready to shoot at the slightest provocation. He glanced behind him and his heart sank.
Lot was standing with a gun to her head. She didn’t look scared; she looked angry.
The gun was wielded by Wan-Soo.
Aft
er cuffing their hands behind their backs and stripping them of their gadgets, Lee retrieved a sleek black helmet from a rack and led his prisoners into the cramped elevator, leaving the technicians to monitor the eclipse. Wan-Soo walked behind them, pressing the barrel of his gun in Dev’s back every time he slowed down.
“And here we were, freaking out because we thought you had died,” Dev snarled as they walked up another steel stairwell. “I’ll remember to celebrate next time.”
Wan-Soo refused to be riled.
“Always beware of the quiet ones,” said Lot.
“Oh, don’t be angry with Wan-Soo. He was just doing his job. As soon as our technicians realized there was something unusual about the Consortium’s game, we figured what they were up to and thought, what the hell, let’s get one of our own boys in there to keep an eye on you.”
Dev stared at Wan-Soo, maintaining eye contact until he felt his eyeballs begin to dry. “You led him straight to us in Bangladesh.”
“Yes.” Wan-Soo showed no remorse, in fact he concealed his emotions completely, as if he didn’t care.
Eryl Stoker looked between them. “Who are you people?”
Lee barked a short laugh. “They’re your rescue party, Mister Stoker.”
“A bunch of kids?”
Dev scowled at him. “A bunch of kids who tracked your implanted biochip.”
Stoker was too surprised to answer back.
The elevator shuddered to a halt and Lee heaved the door open, leading them on to the flat deck. The first thing Dev saw was the smoking remains of a rocket launcher. However, his sense of satisfaction was quashed when he saw Mason, Riya and Aaron kneeling on deck, with their arms secured behind their backs with solid metal cuffs. Dev’s hope that he could use his synaesthesia on them vanished when he saw they were purely mechanical cuffs. No fancy electronics were needed to keep them prisoner.
Five muscular, shades-wearing men clad in T-shirts and jeans pointed rifles at them.