Colour Coded: The Black Bullet

by Katy Jordan

  Her bike sat as though everything in the world was just dandy. Bullet threw herself on to it, leaving her and Tide’s helmets at the side of the road, and after her bike roared to life, she took off down the hill, leaving the essence of rubber from her wheels on the tarmac.

  “I’m on the bike, E.T.A ten minutes. Meeting you from the south,” she yelled over the noisy wind hitting her face, her long brown hair blowing around dementedly behind her.

  “We’re watching out for you,” she heard Rocket niggle her ear.

  She took the bends like moto racer pro, sticking out her knee to brush the concrete if needed. Bullet knew that she should take her time, what with the temperature being so low, the type of road she was on, and the fact that she wasn’t wearing a helmet, but there wasn’t enough time.

  Where the hell was Jack? How did Neon plan that so brilliantly? How did he know anything?

  Had they rushed into their plans too soon?

  Bullet felt nothing but guilt. She knew she should have done more to stop Jack from leaving.

  Now, she had no idea where he was, and Neon had managed to play them all.

  He was one up, again.

  Colour Coded were back to square one.

  Chapter Twenty

  Her hair sat as though it was trying to grow up the way rather than down the sides of her head as Bullet got off of the bike, windswept and exhausted.

  The back doors to Rocket’s red van were open, Tide and Gecko were gulping on bottled water as though it was their first time drinking it, while Sparrow and Youth had their noses pressed up against their tablets and laptops.

  Flare jumped out to meet Bullet as she approached them on foot and bounced into her arms like a puppy greets its’ owner after a long period of time. Bullet clung to her, appreciating the human contact after what was an incredibly shitty mission.

  She failed.

  Bullet couldn’t believe Neon had managed to play her so easily.

  So many questions swarmed in her mind that she couldn’t process anything at all.

  How did he know? How long had he known for? Where the hell were they? Was he ever planning to keep Jack, or was he merely a pawn in this chess game they seemed to be playing?

  Was Jack okay?

  “Are you okay?” Flare asked, releasing Bullet from her grasp.

  “As good as I can be,” Bullet informed her, giving her an attempt at an encouraging smile, and walking to the van with her.

  “Youth… anything?”

  “He’s good. I wasn’t aware he had these skills. He’s bouncing the signal all over the place, but I’m chasing him,” he replied, never looking away from his laptop as he battered his keyboard furiously with concentration.

  Rocket got out from the front seat and walked around to greet her.

  “Bullet,” he called out, throwing a bottle of water to her, “I saved one for you. You alright?”

  “I just want to know where they are,” she snarled, still angry at herself and everything in the world. “I want to find Jack and bring him home.”

  “We’ll find him, it’ll be okay,” he reassured her, giving her a bear hug and thumping her back like she was one of the guys. “Come on, sit down, take it easy for a bit while we figure this out.”

  Bullet perched herself on the step into the van and took a drink of her water. It was only when it splashed around her mouth and down her throat that she realised just how thankful she was that Rocket kept a bottle back for her.

  She was incredibly thirsty.

  Bullet looked into the night as the countryside presented itself in a calm and reserved form.

  There was nothing wrong out there. The trees leaned in the wind, the sound of small branches crashing off of one another and the leaves brushing against each other in the distance was a soothing sound for her. She could hear the crickets whistling to each other, and birds singing in preparation for the morning sun making an appearance.

  Everything was as it should be out there.

  But, it was a whole different story for them.

  Bullet looked into the van; Youth and Sparrow were still busy with their electronics to pay attention to anyone, Rocket sat with Tide who was in between him and Flare, as each of them tried to keep her warm, while Gecko had one of his shoes off to give himself a foot rub after all his running.

  She leaned upward a little to peak through the small window into the front, but there was no one there.

  “Rocket, where’s The Spectrum?” she probed.

  “He went for a walk up the hill when you gave us your E.T.A,” he explained, “said he had some thinking to do.”

  “Are the earpieces still active?” Bullet asked.

  “Nope!” Youth interjected, his eyes remaining glued to the screen of his laptop.

  Bullet took a gulp of water and placed it down on the floor of the van.

  She took her gloves off and dropped them down next to her bottle and stuffed her sore hands into her pockets.

  “I’m going to go look for him,” she said and began strolling up the road in the direction Rocket informed her of.

  The Spectrum always liked his walks.

  He had done for as long as the Black Bullet had known him. He used to walk regularly through the forest trails in the Cairngorms since the Colour Coded headquarters were up there.

  He enjoyed nature; the fresh air, the sounds and, above all, the sights.

  “Nothing could ever beat it,” he always told her in his wonderfully masculine voice that could melt chocolate, “it’s a good reminder of how beautiful life actually is, no matter how ugly it may look to us sometimes.”

  Bullet strolled along at her own pace, recalling The Spectrum’s words as she looked out into the darkness that the early hours of an October morning brought.

  The birds’ lament echoed through the air as she head up the main road that stretched from Tay Forest Park to the Cairngorms.

  About a mile up the road, she saw him in the distance, standing looking out across the valley to the hills that stood proudly in the distance, hands clasped behind his back.

  She approached him, unsure of what his reaction would be in regards to them failing their mission. Standing beside him to admire the scenery, the pair stood in silence.

  It had been an incredulously long day, and The Spectrum had done nothing but listen in as everyone interacted over the radios, and waited in anticipation as he witnessed the sounds of Bullet, Tide, Sparrow and Gecko struggle and pant while they carried out their objectives.

  Bullet looked at him.

  Every time she observed him looking at the views up in the highlands of Scotland, he always had a look on his face as though he was seeing it for the first time.

  She loved that about him.

  Actually, she loved everything about this father figure she had.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, breaking the silence that Bullet couldn’t decide was awkward or pleasant.

  “No,” she stated.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “We failed,” she replied, surprised at the question.

  “You failed, did you?”

  “Yeah…” she said, although it sounded more like a question.

  “How so?”

  “Because we came away empty-handed, and almost died in the process.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said placidly, “the joys of a mission.”

  “Exactly,” Bullet agreed, “so, we failed.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No,” he confirmed, eyeing her carefully over the top of his spectacles as she turned away from the view to face him.

  “One cannot fail a mission when the mission is not yet completed.”

  “But, I don’t understand,” Bullet countered, “we went in there for Jack, and we didn’t get him.”

  “Exactly.”

  Bullet tried to reach his wavelength, but the powers that be wouldn’t let it happen. She knew
he was talking in riddles; it’s what he always did. He would drop small hints so that they could come to a realisation on their own.

  But, it wasn’t happening tonight.

  “I still don’t get it,” she claimed.

  “The mission to find Jack is not yet complete,” The Spectrum explained, he too turning away from the view to pay attention to her. “Jack has still not been found, therefore, the mission to find him is not complete. Henceforth, you cannot have failed your mission, as you have not met its end thus far.”

  Whether it was fatigue, worrying about Jack, the proceedings of the night, or all of the above, Bullet was completely unable to wrap her brain around what The Spectrum was trying to tell her.

  “But, we searched the warehouse…”

  “Yes, you did, and very professionally I might add. However, like every mission, there are objectives, and their quantity varies with every mission, yes?”

  “Yeah…” Bullet humoured him.

  “Precisely. So, the mission is to find Jack. Searching Neon’s warehouse was merely an objective; an objective which now is complete,” he explained further, watching the penny drop in Bullet’s mind. “So, this needn’t be considered a failure, but an objective that has been carried out, but alas, to no avail. All this has done is extended our mission further.”

  He turned back to the view, satisfied with his explanation, and also with his reassuring her.

  It definitely worked; Bullet unquestionably felt ten times lighter.

  “But, we’re still running out of time.”

  “No, no, no, no…” he whispered confidently.

  “Neon was torturing Jack. We don’t know how long it’ll take before he gets bored,” Bullet argued, beginning to panic again as the sounds of Jack’s screams started to echo in her mind.

  “If he gets bored, he will not kill him. He needs him.”

  “I think at this point the wiring of his bunker is the last thing he’s concerned about, sir.”

  “I fully agree, which is why I wasn’t referring to that,” he batted back at her. “I’m talking about you.”

  Bullet’s heart stopped.

  Did he know?

  She looked at him trying to suss out if he was aware or not. Although there was no point, she could never read him anyway.

  “Quit firing questions around in your head, girl. I know how you two feel about one another. I pray that you don’t feel any resentment toward any party when I inform you of this, but the Lavender Lab told me after Jack left for the second time,” he admitted. “Nevertheless, Neon needs him. The one thing he wants is you. He knows that Colour Coded were using Jack to penetrate his organisation from the inside, so he knows we’ll go looking for him. But, he’s trying to lure you out.”

  “Well, it’s working,” she acknowledged.

  “Well, don’t let it,” The Spectrum ordered her.

  “I can’t help it. I need to make sure he comes home.”

  “And you do not trust your colleagues to perform that task?”

  “Yes, of course, I do, but …”

  “So, then you will let them,” he declared. “It’s not up for discussion, Bullet. Neon thinks you’re missing. We need to keep it that way for you to be safe.”

  This one, he didn’t know.

  Nobody heard Jack telling Neon that Bullet was alive. Their earpieces only transmit their voice, not third parties.

  After the number of times she had to remind Jack of that, she kicked herself for forgetting so easily.

  “Sir…” she began tentatively, “there’s something I should maybe run by you…”

  Already, The Spectrum looked unamused as he awaited the bad news that was clearly coming.

  “Go on.”

  “Hypothetically… if Jack told Neon that I was alive, and that he was in love with me, and that I was pissed off to the point I was going to kill him… how bad do you think that would be?”

  “Hmm… it would certainly stunt our advantage slightly. Why?”

  “Well, consider our advantage stunted.”

  “I see. Well, that’s a bit of a game changer, isn’t it?” he said, seeming unfazed by the news.

  The Yellow Youth nipping in their ear was what interrupted their conversation.

  “Guys, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I think I have something.”

  “Can you take the earpieces off trigger release, please?” The Spectrum requested.

  Thrilled that she didn’t have to take her hands out of her pockets, Bullet burrowed them in further, praying that her fingers would thaw soon.

  “Youth, did you find them?” she asked, dodging past any greetings or small talk.

  “Yeah, but it might be wrong. It’s saying they’re at the warehouse.”

  “Well, that can’t be right, we were just there,” Bullet thought out loud.

  “Is there anywhere you didn’t check?” The Spectrum asked her.

  “Sparrow manoeuvred around the whole warehouse with the drone once he located the bunker,” Bullet informed him.

  “Yeah, I did, and I admit I didn’t find anything… but Bullet, I think they’re still there as well,” Sparrow interjected.

  “Why?” The Spectrum cut in.

  “Well, I’ve been eyeing the view from my main bird that’s observing the perimeter, and the exterior guards are still in position, in ranks, on duty. Why would you have someone guarding something that you didn’t care about?”

  “Well, he has been one step ahead of us,” Gecko offered. “Maybe he’s doing it as a mirage to keep us busy and away from finding out wherever he actually is.”

  “Or he wants us to think that,” Bullet suggested. “I mean, it’s perfect. Make us think that’s what he’s doing to throw us off the one place we know he usually is. It’d be like hiding in plain sight, and it’s totally a Neon thing to do.”

  “I agree,” Youth chimed in, “especially when I’ve just hacked the server, which is also at the warehouse.”

  “There are no servers anywhere in that warehouse,” Sparrow threw out there. “We watched Jack’s cam for hours, and I flew around with the drone, there was nothing.”

  Something occurred to Bullet.

  The reason why the wiring wasn’t done, the reason they think being that something else was happening that prevented them from being able to do it.

  “Guys… what if the bunker we know of isn’t the only one he had fitted?”

  “What makes you think that, Bullet?” Flare jumped in.

  “Everything does,” she began, “everything is pointing to them being there, even the whole reverse psychology that Neon is trying to play. But, remember the wiring? It wasn’t done, and Neon wouldn’t explain why to Jack, he just said he couldn’t do it at the time.”

  “That would be a bloody good reason why,” Rocket offered.

  “It could also just be that Neon’s bunker is a lot bigger than we knew about. There might be a door disguised in the room as something else, that leads to another room,” Gecko added.

  There was silence at both ends of the radio as everyone pondered over what they were discussing.

  “Well, Tom Cruise would be super proud of us, eh?” Sparrow randomly put out there.

  “What do you mean?” Tide probed.

  “Because this mission literally just turned into Mission: Impossible,” he replied.

  “We’re on our way back to the van everyone,” The Spectrum informed them, as he and Bullet began speed walking back down the road, “start brainstorming.”

  “E.T.A?” Gecko asked.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Bullet answered, “we’ll brainstorm too, and we can collaborate when we get back. I want a mission go in thirty.”

  “But, all options are basically centred around the prospect of having to go back to Neon’s warehouse?” Flare clarified.

  “Yeah, they are,” Bullet replied.

  “Swell. Just swell,” she said sarcastically.

  “Folks, this is anything but ideal, however, regrettably, i
t is the cards of which we have been dealt. All we can do now is take them and play them as best we can,” The Spectrum nodded to Bullet, who took heed and requested Youth reinstate the trigger release.

  “We can’t go back in the way we came,” Bullet informed him.

  “I know,” The Spectrum admitted.

  “How the hell are we going to get back in?” she probed, praying for him to have a backup plan for a situation like this.

  But, never mind the response he gave her being at the bottom of the list of possibilities, it wasn’t even on the list at all.

  “You will enter with guns ablaze. If it’s the Black Bullet he wants, then the Black Bullet he shall get.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Everyone at the van was buzzing, getting organised, preparing to go back to Prismatic, yet again, and face Neon. Bullet and The Spectrum made it to the van with five minutes to spare from the given estimated time of arrival.

  “Plan?” The Spectrum jumped straight to it as they approached everyone.

  “Well, I had an idea,” Sparrow began. “I brought this with me and didn’t even realise.”

  Sparrow held up a small black device, indecipherable to anyone who wasn’t as tech savvy as Sparrow and Youth were.

  “What is it?” Bullet asked.

  “It’s an infrared thermal imager,” Youth explained. “When he realised he had it in his bag, he thought we could clip it to the drone that’s there now and scan the ground looking for thermal activity.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Bullet confirmed, “where’s the drone now?”

  “It’s tucked down in the bushes on its pad, charging,” Sparrow said.

  “How long will charging it up take?” The Spectrum enquired.

  “The best part of thirty minutes, sir. I’ll need to be somewhere pretty close to be able to fly it back to me.”

  “How close?” Rocket asked.

  “Like… the main road, pretty much,” Sparrow said sheepishly.

  “What the hell, Sparrow?” Flare outburst.

  “Look, it was made for hovering in one place, which it can do for a long period of time, but as soon as you start flying it around, the battery drains quicker than a shallow bath. I’m sorry.”