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The Great Game

Page 77

by O. J. Lowe


  “Wilsin, your team is Alpha,” Brendan called. “You’re Alpha One. Montgomery, Alpha Two. Leclerc Alpha Three. Derenko, Bravo One. Aldiss Bravo Two. Harper…”

  “Bravo Three? Just a guess?” It was hard to tell if Mel Harper was smiling as she said it behind her mask. It sounded like she might have been. Brendan nodded.

  “Correct.” He then carried on over to Noorland and Anne. “Sullivan, Chaos One. Noorland, Chaos Two.”

  “Well now we’ve got that sorted,” Derenko said as Wilsin bent down to pick up his Featherstone. “Let’s get this going.”

  “Good hunting, guys,” Arnholt said. “Good luck. Don’t fuck this up or we’ll never live it down.”

  As Wilsin walked past him, Okocha pressed a projector disc into his hand. “Your route to the hospital. Wouldn’t want you getting lost down there, huh? They’re a maze down there.”

  Wilsin laughed. “Don’t I know it?” He patted Okocha on the shoulder. “Thanks pal. Appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” Will sounded a little too prideful at the praise, he had to admit. If it hadn’t been him, he’d have been worried. “It’s what I do.”

  That was then and this was now. Taking a speeder to the closest water station, they’d been permitted through without anyone even getting a hint as to who they were. And if he was honest with himself, Wilsin always liked this part more than he thought he would. The getting recognised thing was cool when done in small doses. It felt like he was just about getting to the point where people did bother him occasionally when he walked down the street. Being here in this tournament was helping with that. He couldn’t complain. The publicity was part of the whole being famous thing. You couldn’t have one without the other.

  They walked through the underground caverns in silence, Okocha’s data leading them towards their destination. He envied Derenko and his team for taking the faster approach. But they had more of a chance of being seen. They had more of a chance of being shot at than they did. Not that he wanted them to be killed but it was always likely. Unisco agents did tend to have a shorter lifespan than those who didn’t work for the agency. It was a sad fact of life.

  Then again, he’d always figured you never knew how much time you had anyway. Might as well make the most of what you do have. There’d always be those who deserved less who got more and those who deserved more who were cut down before their prime.

  “You’re both quiet,” Leclerc said. “It’s disturbing. Really.”

  “Well I was going to sing,” Lysa replied sarcastically. “But the fumes fuck up my throat and well, nobody wants to hear me coughing.”

  “Damn right,” Wilsin said. “Especially them upstairs. Keep it down, folks. They might have someone on the basement.”

  “It’s unlikely,” Lysa said. “If there’s only twenty of them…”

  “And it only takes one to sound an alarm,” Wilsin said angrily. Of all the things he had to put up with right now, this should not be on the list. “If you don’t feel up to this Agent Montgomery then turn around and leave. Or you can be the one who apologises to the families of those who we got killed.”

  Okay, that sounded harsh, he had to admit. But at the same time, this wasn’t a joke. “Maybe they won’t have someone there. Maybe they will. I don’t want to take the chances with it. There are already too many risks here to chance a misstep.”

  “He’s right,” Leclerc said. “We can’t assume anything here without further reliable intel. It’s risky and unprofessional.”

  Lysa didn’t say anything further, he had to give her the credit there. That was good. He might have sounded harsh but that was being in command and he didn’t want anyone to die here. It was on him, if they did. There was going to be death very soon, he’d rather it be on the other side. If there was another solution, all well and good. But violence had guided the hands of those who had sought to end the lives of innocents above and they needed putting down. Not because they should enjoy the act but because it would enable others to carry on living.

  He glanced down at the data, creased his eyebrows under his hood and bit back a sigh. His first time commanding a mission and so far, it was everything he’d hoped it wouldn’t be. Yet he’d wanted this, he’d wanted the additional responsibility and it had been granted to him. The difference between him and those on his team was that while they might watch each other’s back, he was in command. They were his to oversee.

  They were his responsibility. And what had he got? Lysa was a decent agent but rusty from her time convalescing and Leclerc was competent enough but he’d been a far better pilot than field agent. Ideally, he’d have preferred Roper and Wade down here at his back. Both were survivors. He’d worked with them before and he knew their capabilities under fire. They both would have found a way through this. But they weren’t here and it was up to him to ensure this didn’t go badly.

  The device Okocha had given him directed out their path on a mini holograph of a map, a thin red trail leading them through the maze to show them they were on the right path. When they deviated, it turned yellow and let out a whine loud enough to be heard, faint enough not to echo through the inky black. And as he took it in, Wilsin saw the line had faded completely. He glanced around, saw the ladder and grinned. He trailed the rungs up to the covering at the top and found himself suddenly feeling very apprehensive. So, this was to be the first step. No going back once they went up there.

  “Control, this is Alpha team,” he said. “We’re at the entry point.”

  “I always liked that rifle,” Noorland said as he watched Anne rest the stand of her Saga on a pair of old crates and take careful aim down the scope, her silvery hair fluttering in the wind. She looked very focused, he was pleased to see as she focused in on the Administrator’s office. The curtains had been closed but still she glanced in on it. “It’s a good one.”

  “Yep,” Anne said. She sounded disinterested, her fingers moving to adjust the scope. “You get thermal on your binoculars?”

  Noorland didn’t even have to glance at them, they were his own model. He’d built them after all. “Yep. Probably better than the one on your rifle. Doesn’t interfere with all that heat being stored in the bricks. Shows humans in a different colour to solar heat.”

  “I just aim for the window,” Anne said. “Anyone walks past it with thermal on, they’re getting seen, even with the curtains. You pinpoint anyone in there?”

  Noorland brought them to his eyes and scanned around, blowing gently out his lips in a dull hum as he started with the office and spread out around the building. It wouldn’t work too far into the bowels of the hospital but he could already get a lock on several hostiles stood around on their side.

  “Okay, I see maybe ten hostages in the Administrator’s office,” he said. “They look secured down. Think there’s four… No five guys keeping an eye on them. I see two in the corridor outside. There’s another circling a ward a few doors down, he’s pacing. Think there might be some more hostages in the room with him. Oh dear… This has the potential to be messy.”

  “We got this, Chaos Two,” Derenko said. “Don’t worry about it. Just feed us whatever you can get us and we’ll get it done.”

  “Roger that, Bravo One. Bring home the bacon.”

  “This is Alpha One, we’re in the building. Basement secured. No hostiles down here.”

  If he squinted, Noorland was sure he could see something rising in the distance, but he didn’t move his binoculars to look. He was sure it was Derenko and his team. Had to be. They’d be using airborne spirits to get to the roof. They’d make their way in and they’d hook up with Wilsin’s team halfway. This mission just looked worse and worse by the second.

  “You’re nervous,” Anne said without raising her head. “It’s distracting.” She winced a little, he saw her flinch. “Sorry. That was unfair.”

  “I am nervous,” Noorland said. “Not what I had planned to do today. How do you do this? I mean if something goes wrong, you’ll survive and you
might even have to watch everyone die? I couldn’t do this for every mission I go on.”

  Anne said nothing for a moment but when she did, her voice was uncharacteristically cold. “You get used to it after time,” she said. “Nothing lasts forever.”

  “Amen to that,” he said softly.

  The rooftop in sight, Derenko guided his thunderbird down and as his claws dug into the asphalt of the roof, he hopped down to give Takaris a pat on the neck.

  “Good boy,” he said, just hoping that they hadn’t been seen. He unslung his Featherstone, made to secure the area as Harper and Aldiss came in for landing, Harper on an oversized firemoth, Aldiss riding astride a winged torchmander. Both came down, unslung their weapons and recalled their spirits. Derenko was glad to see the back of that firemoth if he was honest.

  There was something about a five-foot-tall moth that was intensely creepy. He had to admire Mel Harper’s metaphorical balls to ride something like that. Its wings might be huge but they looked so delicate. “Okay team, form up. We’re going to enter through that door, make our way down.” He pointed at the roof exit across from them, the fire door locked tight but he wasn’t worried about that. They could get in. Aldiss had the equipment. They all knew how to use it. Silent entry was something they all knew a little something about.

  “Might be alarmed,” Harper said, adjusting her mask. “If it is, they’re going to know we’re here before we even have a chance.”

  She was right. Derenko knew that, it was something he’d already considered. Okocha had already pointed it out. Al Noorland had come up trumps again. If he glanced out over the

  side of the building, he was sure he could see him and Anne atop one of the other buildings.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s not a problem.” He reached down into his pocket and brought out the chunky grey box, tossing it up and down one handed. “Let’s go, Fank. Time’s an issue.”

  Vazaran fire doors operated on the principle that when the door was opened, an alarm wired into the frame of the door would sound, everything tied up on a box on the right-hand side of the frame. It’d be a distinctive box, Okocha had described it in detail, should have some numbers on it, always a pair of lights, one green and one red. When the light is green, he’d said, the system is active and opening the door will activate the fire alarm. When the light is red, you can go through at will.

  That was where Noorland’s device had come in. He’d pointed out it wasn’t meant to be used for this exact purpose but the weak pulse of electromagnetic energy it emitted should be enough to confuse the alarm long enough to get through. The only problem they’d deal with was that it would need to be physically placed on the device. And that was on the other side of the door.

  The device Aldiss brought out from the bag around his back resembled a camera tripod, three heavy black metal legs with a thick cylinder sticking out the end of it. Aldiss dropped down onto his knees and took a long hard look at the door, checking out the penetrator as he did. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Derenko might have smiled at the name of the device. Only Al Noorland could have come up with something like this and then given it a name like that to boot.

  “Should have just rappelled down from here,” Harper said, glancing down at the edge of the roof. “Hit them through the window of the office, blaze away before they know what’s hit them.”

  Derenko shook his head. “Too risky. We did consider that but without knowing who or what or how many is in there, it’s very dangerous. If there were no hostages, I’d have gone with it. But their safety is paramount to this whole thing. If even one person dies from now on, we’ve failed.”

  “Yep, we got probably every eye in the five kingdoms on this island right now,” Aldiss said, hefting up the penetrator and sticking it to the door through the suction cups attached to the legs. He waited, saw the blue lights confirm that it was secured before moving across the cylinder, twisting it and teasing it into calibration. “That was before this. Now, we’re so exposed it’s unbelievable. We fuck this up, we’re going to get pilloried by every media outlet across the kingdoms.”

  “Maybe that’s why they did it,” Harper said. “Maybe they’re just dickheads who want to show up Unisco.”

  Derenko said nothing. He was too busy watching Aldiss, double checking the calibrations of the penetrator. The laser needed to be just at the right intensity. Too weak and it’d fail to burn through, wasting valuable time. Too strong and it’d burn too powerful to control, the potent heat forcing the door open with expansion and ruining the whole thing. Eventually they both were satisfied but still he held his breath as Aldiss thumbed the activation. The acrid smell of burning metal filled his nostrils, even filtering through his mask but already it was starting to give way beneath the focused beam.

  Ten seconds later, there was a hole there and now for the hard part, he thought. Harper brought out the spray, depressed the nozzle and dashed it all around the ragged hole. One of them was going to need to stick their hand inside that hole and feel out the alarm control. Hence the coolant. None of them wanted to scorch themselves. Even through the armour, it’d hurt like a bitch if it caught them. He was tempted to tell Harper to do it. She had the thinnest arms. Less chance of her catching herself on a bit of sharp metal.

  Still he wasn’t prepared to ask anything of anyone on his team that he wasn’t prepared to do himself. Aldiss removed the spent penetrator and dropped it back into the bag. They weren’t taking it with them. Unnecessary weight would just slow them down. They didn’t have many of them on the island, it’d need to be retrieved later. But right now, they needed to ensure there would be a later. Derenko stepped over to the hole and glanced through it, checking the corridors on either side through the gap. He couldn’t see anyone. Shouldn’t be anyone up here.

  He could see the outline of the control box, could see the faint glow of green light reflecting off it. They were here. Drawing a long slow breath, he removed his glove and put the chunky box into his bare hand, easing it up through the hole. It was tight, the edges of it scraped the box but it’d cope and he grit his teeth as he had to force it through, rotating it around until it was facing the alarm control. The box was magnetic, that was good, meant he didn’t have to worry too much about securing it in place. He removed his hand and put his eye to the hole. Still the light remained green. Just for a moment, he felt the doubt rush through him. Had they found the right one?

  “We going in yet?” Aldiss wondered. “Is it working?”

  He said nothing. Already he was thinking about alternative entry strategies should this not pay off. Still it remained green.

  “Bravo One, what is your status?” He could hear Brendan in his ear, he still hadn’t exhaled since fixing it, he realised that and let it go sharply.

  It was faint but he saw the glow change from green to red and he felt the relief flood through him. Hand back through the hole, he twisted the bar and the door swung silently open into the corridor beyond. He stuck his head through, sure there was nobody but set to check anyway. If there had been someone there, they’d surely have been alerted by previous acts. Never assume. That way led to death and pain. He wasn’t about to get killed in action by something so dumb.

  “Control, Bravo team has entered the building,” he said triumphantly as the three of them stepped inside. And that had been the easy part, he had to note. The tough bit was still very much ahead of them.

  Like all plans it was doomed to fail at the first sign of action and as they left the basement, Wilsin saw the guy stood halfway down the corridor, back to them and smoking. He had a Broxtie resting at his side on a strap, the plumes of thick noxious smoke filling the corridor.

  He raised a hand, halted Montgomery and Leclerc in their tracks, wondering if they could get around him. He didn’t want to start taking opposition pieces out of the game too early. There had to be a reason the guy was down here. If he’d been despatched down here, all it’d take would be one unanswered hail and
he’d be missed. Someone would come looking for him…

  Drawing numbers away from the rest of them and into easy ambushes. Or they could start killing the hostages. They could assume they were under attack.

  If that was the case, best to get it done quickly before they could make any such assumption. He raised one finger, gestured towards the guard and tilted his head, silently telling them he’d get him. Pushing the door open, he started to slowly move across the floor, keeping his breathing shallow and controlled, quiet as a mouse until he was within striking distance.

  For a moment, he held position, fought the urge to cough over the odour of smoke that was growing ever stronger by the second the closer he got to the guy and then he struck, lunging from a start and grabbing him from behind. He felt the jerk of surprise before he got one arm around his throat, one hand on his head…

  Stun him only... Cut off air, let him pass out, he can be jailed later…

  That was the thought that went through his head, it was what he should have done. Instead he twisted hard and violent, the thoughts of what had gone on upstairs flowing through his head and he just couldn’t stop himself. The crack of his neck breaking filled the hall and the strangest thing Wilsin realised upon letting the body fall, for the first time making a kill, he didn’t feel regret.

  He could justify it to himself. He didn’t deserve to live. He’d been complicit in attacking a building full of sick people and taking hostages. Furthermore, if he’d been knocked out, he could have shot them in the back. He’d removed a risk. Maybe that was it. Maybe.

  Leclerc and Montgomery were behind him, Leclerc stepped past and removed the mask from the corpse’s face. Wilsin didn’t stop him, just brought his Featherstone back up in case he needed it. He glanced down at the face below, tanned, a bit Serranian, curly black hair and the faintest hint of moustache on the upper lip like he hadn’t shaved for a day or two. He could smell olives. Bit good looking, he supposed. Now he was dead and for what?

 

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