by Mark Walden
‘Are you sure we’re safe?’ Otto said, following Raven towards the offices. ‘We were supposed to be safe before, but Cypher seemed to know exactly where to find us. What’s to say that he doesn’t know about this place?’
‘Because, Otto, until precisely thirty seconds ago, there was only one person in the world who knew about this place, and that was me.’ Raven had been trained to make sure that she always had a back-up plan and this was just one of several sites around the world that she had set up for just such an eventuality. Not even Nero knew that this place existed.
‘I hope you’re right,’ Otto said quietly. An hour ago he would have believed Raven completely, but it was becoming clear that they were up against an enemy that had resources far beyond what was normal.
Raven punched a series of numbers into a keypad next to one of the office doors and it opened with a deceptively solid clunking noise. Otto followed her into the office and it quickly became clear that, as was so often the case with Raven, there was a lot more to this simple building than met the eye. One end of the room was filled with a well-stocked armoury – guns, knives and other harder to identify pieces of equipment hung from wall mountings. The rest of the room was filled with practice combat dummies, chart tables, computers and several large display screens. If you intended to stage your own private little war, this would be the place from which to run it.
Raven busied herself about the room, switching on computers and checking the building’s security grid. After a few seconds she nodded and turned to Otto.
‘OK, the perimeter’s secure and it doesn’t look like anyone followed us. I need to contact Doctor Nero, but let’s check you out first.’ Raven walked over to Otto and took his chin in one hand. She looked into his eyes and turned his head first one way and then the other.
‘No sign of concussion,’ she said matter of factly, ‘but that cut needs dressing.’
Otto put his hand to his hairline and looked at the blood that came away on his fingertips. He hadn’t even realised he was bleeding. Raven steered him into a nearby chair and then fetched a small medical kit from amongst the array of equipment at the other end of the room. She sat down opposite him and tipped a few drops of antiseptic on to a cotton swab.
‘You know that there was nothing more you could have done, right?’ Raven said as she dabbed carefully at the cut with the cotton swab.
Otto winced slightly as the antiseptic stung his wound.
‘It would have been hard for me to have done any less,’ Otto replied quietly. ‘I just let him execute Wing right in front of me.’
‘You couldn’t have stopped him, Otto. I couldn’t have stopped him in that situation, so don’t blame yourself,’ Raven continued, pulling a small butterfly suture from its packet and carefully applying it to Otto’s forehead. ‘There, how does that feel.’
Raven leant back. She was covered in small cuts and burns herself but she seemed far more concerned about Otto.
‘Who is he?’ Otto asked, looking Raven straight in the eye.
‘Who?’ she asked carefully as she returned the sutures and antiseptic to the first-aid kit.
‘You know who I mean. Cypher, who is he? Why did he do this?’ Otto replied quickly.
‘I know that you’re just going to think I’m being cryptic, Otto, but the honest answer to both of those questions is that I genuinely don’t know,’ Raven said, sitting back down opposite him. Something in her expression told Otto that she was being straight with him.
‘So what do you know about him?’ he asked.
‘Not very much, I’m afraid,’ Raven replied. She looked slightly uncomfortable, as if she was not sure it was something they should be talking about. ‘He and Nero loathe each other, I know that much. Some of it’s because Cypher keeps lobbying Number One to close down H.I.V.E., but I think there’s more to it than that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, Doctor Nero is one of the longest-serving members of G.L.O.V.E., he genuinely believes in the League, he thinks that it serves a vital function. The way Doctor Nero sees it is that without G.L.O.V.E., all of its members would still be out there committing acts of villainy but there would be nothing to restrain them. G.L.O.V.E. is not a charitable organisation by any stretch of the imagination, but it does serve to keep the more violent or lunatic excesses of its members in check. Nero believes that without G.L.O.V.E. there would be anarchy . . . or worse. He explained it to me once, he said that villains create doomsday weapons, but G.L.O.V.E. makes sure that they never actually use them. After all, what’s the point of taking over the world if the world is nothing but a scorched ball of ash?’
‘And Cypher doesn’t agree, I take it,’ Otto replied. He knew that Raven was only telling him all this to try to distract him from thinking about what had just happened, but Otto needed this information. Know your enemy, that was rule number one.
‘Every scheme that Cypher has come up with since he joined G.L.O.V.E. has had one thing in common . . . people die, sometimes a lot of people. Cypher doesn’t care about style or subtlety, he’s a smash-and-grab artist.’
‘Everything that Nero isn’t,’ Otto observed.
‘Exactly. But what’s worse is that he’s also been so spectacularly successful. Nero may disapprove of his methods but as long as he kept boosting G.L.O.V.E.’s coffers the way he did his actions were tolerated.’
‘Until today,’ Otto said quietly, looking down at the floor.
‘Until today. Whatever he may have done in the past, he has never acted openly against another G.L.O.V.E. operation. There’s no way that Number One will put up with his actions – he’s a dead man walking.’ The cold edge in Raven’s voice was unmistakeable. It was fair to assume that she intended to make sure of that herself.
‘And nobody knows who he really is?’ Otto said.
‘No. Some G.L.O.V.E. operatives do maintain secret identities, but that’s usually just to keep them under the authorities’ radar. Cypher’s different, though. Nero suspects that not even Number One knows who he is. We’ve spent a great deal of time trying to find out more about him but it seems that every trail leads to another dead end. Believe me, I’ve been the one following those trails often enough to know how frustratingly elusive he can be.’
‘So why throw all of that away?’ Otto said, looking puzzled.
‘I have no idea,’ Raven said, standing up and moving to one of the computers in the middle of the room. ‘He must know that an attack like this will incur the wrath of Number One, so whatever he’s up to has to be worth taking that risk.’
Otto had learnt enough about G.L.O.V.E. and its mysterious leader to know that retaliation for an attack like this would probably be swift and brutal.
‘It doesn’t make any sense,’ Otto said, frustrated. ‘What could he hope to achieve with this? Does he really hate Nero and H.I.V.E. so much that he’d throw everything away just to assassinate you and a couple of students? Why did he take Wing’s body? What possible reason could he have for any of this?’
‘I don’t know, Otto, but don’t worry, I intend to find out. If nothing else, what happened today proves one thing,’ Raven said as she keyed a string of commands into the computer.
‘What’s that?’ Otto said, also standing and moving across the room towards where Raven was working.
‘I shouldn’t really be telling you this, but a couple of weeks ago somebody made an attempt on Doctor Nero’s life. Suffice to say that it failed, but the assassins that were used self-destructed in a similar, if less spectacular, way to our friends on the roof. I had suspected that Cypher was involved, but this proves it.’
‘So this is all part of something bigger,’ Otto said thoughtfully.
‘It has to be,’ Raven replied. ‘No offence, Otto, but Cypher would not take this kind of risk without there being a bigger pay-off than getting rid of a couple of H.I.V.E. students. The school itself has a higher annual attrition rate than that . . .’
Something gave a tiny tu
g inside Otto’s head. There was something about this whole situation that didn’t make sense and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, whatever it was. Otto knew that the best thing to do was ignore it. Whatever it was it would come to him in time, it always did, and there was little point trying to hurry the process.
Raven turned from her terminal and turned to face Otto. ‘I need to call Nero and let him know that we made it out and who was responsible,’ she said as she got up and walked across the room to a communications terminal. She keyed in a number of commands and the machine began working, not just connecting her to H.I.V.E. but doing it in such a way that it would be next to impossible to calculate their location by backtracing the transmission. She watched as the carrier signal bounced from country to country, creating a spider’s web of digital evidence that could not be disentangled. Finally the word ‘Connecting’ appeared and after a couple of seconds was replaced with Nero’s face. He looked tired and angry, but as he saw who was on the other end of the line the tension and fatigue seemed to melt from his expression.
‘Natalya,’ he said with a smile, ‘not for the first time, rumours of your demise appear to have been unfounded.’
‘It’ll take a better man than Cypher to put me in the ground,’ Raven replied. The slight smile on her face was at odds with the ice in her tone.
‘Yes, we saw what happened. Did anyone else make it out?’ Nero asked.
‘Malpense is here with me. He’s OK, some cuts and bruises but otherwise in one piece.’
‘Fanchu?’ Nero asked. He’d seen what had happened on the roof but he had to be sure.
‘Dead, Max, as are Agents One and Zero. Cypher executed the boy without hesitation, there was nothing I could do. The agents both gave their lives trying to protect the students, but they took us completely by surprise. We never stood a chance.’
‘I have no doubt that you did everything you could, Natalya,’ Nero replied, looking suddenly angry again. ‘I want Cypher found and stopped, by whatever means necessary.’
‘Understood,’ Raven replied. ‘Am I acting under executive mandate?’
‘I will be speaking to Number One very shortly,’ Nero said. ‘I expect him to grant us full executive privilege under the circumstances, but as soon as I have final clearance I will contact you. I also want Malpense returned to H.I.V.E. immediately.’ Nero did not relish the prospect of explaining to Number One that Otto had once again had a brush with death. The sooner the boy was safely returned to the school the better.
‘Then we’ll need transport,’ Raven replied. ‘The Shroud was in the hangar when the safe house went up. We’re going to need a replacement.’
‘Of course, I shall dispatch one immediately,’ Nero replied. ‘Do you have a target location yet?’
‘Not yet, but I’m working on it,’ Raven said, glancing at the monitors nearby. ‘As soon as I have a location for pick-up I’ll let you know.’
‘Very well, keep me posted,’ Nero instructed, ‘and, Natalya . . .’
‘Yes,’ Raven responded.
‘Finish this,’ Nero said coldly.
Laura sat next to Shelby’s bed in the infirmary. Her friend was still unconscious from the Sleeper pulse that Colonel Francisco had hit her with but the doctors had assured her that her friend would be OK and that it was only a matter of time until she woke up. Laura thought about the news that she was going to have to give Shelby and she fought to control the urge to start crying again. Wing was gone, snatched away in a split second by the brutal actions of a madman, and she was going to have to break the news to Shelby. Laura bit her lower lip; she was surprised there were any tears left but as she thought of Wing’s smile, a rare and wonderful thing that she would never see again, she was overwhelmed by grief, and fresh, hot tears rolled down her cheeks.
‘Hey, Brand.’ Shelby’s voice was croaky and tired. ‘I never knew you cared.’
Laura looked up in surprise and saw Shelby looking at her with mild amusement.
‘How are you feeling?’ Laura replied, wiping the tears from her eyes and giving a weak smile.
‘I’m fine, but what’s up with you?’ Shelby replied, sensing that there was more to Laura’s mood than was immediately obvious.
‘Something terrible has happened,’ Laura replied, her voice cracking slightly, ‘the message, we were too late . . . it’s Wing . . . he’s dead.’
The smile vanished instantly from Shelby’s face, replaced by a look of horror.
Laura told Shelby everything – the attack on the safe house, the arrival of Cypher and finally Wing’s execution on the roof. She talked quickly and quietly, afraid that if she slowed or paused that she would again succumb to the empty swirling grief in the pit of her stomach. When she had finished she looked up at Shelby and saw the same hollow disbelief in her friend’s eyes that had been in her own when Nero had told the same story to her earlier. Shelby’s mouth moved, as if trying to find words, but none would come and she began to cry.
Laura pulled Shelby towards her and hugged her, her friend’s heaving sobs as painful as her own.
.
Chapter Nine
‘Wake up,’ the Contessa whispered into Colonel Francisco’s ear. His eyes slowly flickered open, and he looked confused for a moment before giving a bestial cry of rage. Trying to sit up, he thrashed against the thick restraints that held him firmly to the infirmary bed on which he lay.
Nero stood looking down at him, his expression enough to freeze the blood of even a hardened soldier like Francisco.
‘Colonel, I am going to give you one chance and one chance only to tell me why you have done this, and then I’m going to let the Contessa dig it out of your head. I understand that she can do that without causing too much brain damage. The choice is yours.’
Francisco’s expression hardened.
‘You don’t scare me, Max, and neither does she.’
‘Then you’re either insane, or stupid. Possibly both,’ Nero replied. ‘Your actions have already cost the lives of two G.L.O.V.E. agents and one of our own students. I will not hesitate to add your name to that list, but not before you’ve told me everything you know.’
‘Do your worst,’ Francisco spat back.
Nero said nothing, simply nodded to the Contessa and left the room.
‘Now, Colonel, let’s have a nice little chat,’ the Contessa said, leaning over his prostrate form. The smile on her face was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen.
Nero let out a long, slow breath as he settled into his chair. His desk was still covered with the paperwork that he had left there the previous evening. It seemed like a thousand years ago now. He blamed himself, of course – he should have realised that he was sending his students into a trap, but he’d been too busy worrying about their safe return to the island to consider the possibility that they had been deliberately drawn out from under the umbrella of security that normally protected them.
‘Damn him!’ Nero shouted, smashing his fist down on the desk. He had always known that Cypher was a loose cannon, but not for a moment had he ever thought that he would take direct action like this against Nero and his school.
There was a sudden beeping from the console on the desk and Nero thumbed the intercom switch.
‘Yes,’ he snapped.
‘Sir, I have Number One on a secure channel for you,’ the communications technician on the other end of the line reported.
‘Very well, put him through,’ Nero replied. As the video screen on the opposite side of the room flickered into life he fought to push back the burning fury he felt. He could not afford to let Number One see any lack of composure on his part, even under these circumstances.
The G.L.O.V.E. logo on the screen dissolved, to be replaced by the familiar silhouetted form of Number One. Even after all these years Nero still had no idea what the man looked like, which was probably a good thing, given the rumours he had heard of the fate that had befallen those who had been unlucky enough to catch a glimpse of his
face.
‘Good morning, Maximilian,’ Number One said calmly. ‘I have read your report on this situation and reviewed the footage that was captured by the surveillance satellite, and suffice to say that I am deeply, deeply disturbed by what I have seen.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Nero replied. ‘This was a hostile act by a rogue agent against G.L.O.V.E. operatives, it cannot be allowed to stand.’
‘That is for me to decide,’ Number One replied. ‘I assume that under the circumstances you are requesting executive privilege for any action that you choose to take.’
‘I am,’ Nero replied. ‘In this situation I don’t see what other choice we have.’
‘There are always choices, Maximilian,’ Number One said, ‘but given what has happened I am forced to agree this time. You have an executive mandate, but I want one thing.’
‘Of course, what do you need?’
‘I want Cypher alive.’
Nero tensed. He had not expected this – usually when Number One granted an executive mandate to his subordinates it only meant one thing. To request that Cypher be taken alive was unprecedented, not to mention much more difficult.
‘May I ask why?’ Nero said cautiously.
‘No, you may not. I understand that Raven survived the attack; I am sure that she will be more than capable of performing this task.’
‘But –’ Nero began.
‘Do not argue with me, Max . . . ever. It is not a request.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Nero replied. He knew better than to push his luck with Number One.
‘And see to it that Malpense is returned to the school immediately; be grateful that no lasting harm was caused to him. If I thought for one moment that you had any inkling of the danger into which you were sending him Cypher would not be the only one with an executive mandate declared on him. Do I make myself clear?’