by Ian Williams
A violent rumble was sent through the floor toward them, kicking up a wave of dust that expanded away and straight past their small group. It was immediately joined by an incredible flash of light that any nuclear explosion would have been proud of creating. All, apart from Luke, had to steal their eyes away for fear of being blinded by it. Then came a rush of heat and thousands of tiny, fiery particles that instantly surrounded them, each losing their heat the moment they hit the ground.
Graham opened his eyes and saw a scene of absolute devastation left behind. The light had gone, and so too had the noise. The sudden burst of energy had laid waste to a million plants, turning them into nothing more than smoke and dust. They were almost entirely vaporised. What little remained now smouldered and fizzled as flames slowly claimed them too. All of the lights had blown around them and only an occasional flickering from the fires remained.
“You didn’t say there would be fireworks,” Stephen said. He watched it all through Luke’s wrist screen.
“Holy shit, that was intense.” Sean still had his hands on his ears.
The energy they had released was now free to spread out across the whole country. It would undoubtedly be causing a huge panic alongside it as well. No relay would be spared from the sudden influx of power. Anyone trying to use one would be disappointed with the lack of service, and horrified by the appearance of many more ghostly corruptions.
For now, Graham and the others would have to watch and wait until the MARCs began pouring into Sanctuary. If quick enough, then the panic would only have the time to build a little. The problem was, even Luke had admitted he had no idea how fast the process would actually take.
“Did it work then?” Graham asked.
Luke faced him and smiled. “Yes.”
“So, will this really stop Anthony and the others from bringing Isaac back?” Phoenix asked.
“Let us take it one step at a time,” Luke said as he walked away from the hellish scene. “Come, there’s still much to be done. We should return to Sanctuary before our guests arrive.”
Graham just hoped the guests Luke was referring to would be no harder to deal with than the ones he encountered with Elliot. Those had been hard enough to catch and were only ever one at a time. They were the polite kind that had only forgotten to wipe their feet upon entering. What was coming toward them now would do no less than trash the entire house if allowed.
* * *
Kristof watched as things continued to go from bad to worse for the terrorists. Their leader had become distant after an angry bout of vitriol that undid all of the work Isaac’s speech had done earlier. Everyone now stood watching with a collection of long faces and mournful expressions. They had no idea what to do. Worst of all they looked desperate.
He was surprised by how quickly Anthony had lost his cool. At the peak of his rage he struck out at the nearest hostage; a poor bastard wearing thick glasses that had shattered upon impact. Such a forceful strike that even Anthony had been left calling out in pain – though he had only come away with grazed knuckles. He now sat staring intensely at a tablet screen propped up by his pistol, with his chin resting on his fists.
It was a dangerous atmosphere to be caught in, Kristof knew. It would surely only be a matter of time before another hostage faced the brunt of Anthony’s anger. Recent events had left him ready to snap at any moment. Sooner or later it would become too much for him to contain and he would react again. If anything the silence was worse than his outbursts. There was no way of predicting when he might snap like this.
The large holographic display that had shown Isaac’s message still hovered across the width of the shopping centre. Only now it contained just one piece of information. It was a number that had begun to tick down in the past half an hour or so. Where it had been at just over 50% before, it now showed 36%. This was the count for the remains of Isaac’s code, and it was still going down. The second faction were not only capturing new MARCs, they were also stealing the ones Anthony’s group had already captured.
While the terrorist’s plan slowly unravelled – one percent at a time – a few of the hostages around Kristof had begun to talk a little too much. All signs pointed to the fact that Anthony was being beaten by an outside force. This had them all even more worried than before. The chances of negotiations taking place now were slim to none. Some even mentioned how it was up to them to get out of it. No plan had been put forward just yet, as a few of the terrorists had become interested in the group suddenly. He wished they would just stay quiet. They were going to get themselves killed.
One of the more talkative hostages nudged him in the back without even considering the pain it would illicit. “Psst!” he said.
“What?” Kristof replied with a quick look to the nearest armed man. Luckily he was not watching them. His plan was looking to fail after all.
“Weren’t you sent in to talk with these people?”
“Not from inside, you dick! I can’t do anything in here,” Kristof replied with a shake of his head to firm up his denial. The truth was he could still do something. If things were really as bad as they appeared for Anthony, then there was a possibility he would be more open to cutting a deal now. In his mind though, the time was not exactly right just yet. He wanted to wait until it was clear the numbers were not about to start rising again before he tried.
One of the terrorists approached Anthony after appearing out of a security door toward the fountain. He stood with his arms resting on his hip as he waited for a reaction from his depressed looking leader. When there was no change at all in Anthony’s demeanour, the man coughed.
Anthony quickly snapped out of his dangerously quiet stupor and responded with a jolt. “Anything?” he asked.
“No, sir. The relays aren’t listening to us anymore. Someone has high-jacked the entire network.”
“How is that possible? I don’t understand. Isaac had everything planned out, how could he have missed this? What about the other groups elsewhere in the UK?”
The man shook his head. There was nothing they could do about it. Even their great leader, Anthony, was totally stumped.
“I may be able to slow their progress, but I can’t promise a thing at this stage,” the man added, to soften the blow a little.
“Do it. If you can find out anything about these people too, that would be a start. I’m not about to let them destroy everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve.” Anthony stood up and let the man take his seat by the collection of tablets that had accumulated soon after things had started to go wrong.
“Hey,” the hostage behind Kristof said, with another nudge in the back. “Do something.”
Kristof ignored him – all except for an automatic snort in response. The man’s persistence was about to make them a target if he was not careful. What could he do if shot for talking? He was still waiting for the right moment to speak.
The painkillers had all but worn off already, making him extra cranky. It also meant the pain had since increased and was quickly becoming almost unbearable. It had become the kind with no real epicentre too, after spreading across his entire arm and body like a slow emersion in magma or boiling water. He was pretty sure that a lot of him had suffered burns. It was hard to tell without removing his clothes, which would be too agonising to be worth it in their current predicament.
“I don’t want to die here, man. Do something.”
The man behind him had gone too far this time. The last nudge tipped Kristof over the edge. He would have been able to ignore it if not for the tenderness of the skin the man had touched. “Stop fucking touching me!” he shouted over his shoulder.
The sudden interruption brought everything to a grinding halt. Hostages and terrorists alike stood staring in amazement at the two of them. Even the man working frantically at the front stopped to take a look. He swivelled around in his seat to see.
“What’s going on?” Anthony said. He had something new to focus on all of a sudden and was eager to stamp hi
s authority on the situation. “You, there,” he said pointing at Kristof. “Bring him out to me.”
The nearest terrorist took the job, a stout man with a face full of overgrown beard hairs – he was no longer bothering with his balaclava, like most of the others. He shoved the hostage who had provoked the outburst into the floor followed by a quick kick, before grabbing Kristof. Without giving his prisoner any time to stand at all, he dragged him out to the front. He placed Kristof on his knees before Anthony, who looked down upon his hostage with obvious hatred.
“What do I have to do to keep you people quiet? Should I shoot them all and get it over with? I’d expect you of all people would understand the severity of this situation. Yet you appear happy to push me.” Anthony picked up his gun and held it under Kristof’s chin. “Look up,” he ordered.
This was roughly what Kristof had been waiting for, but failed to see a way of achieving. The man’s impatient jabbing had been timed almost to perfection. He was now in a position to speak without having to worry about the other hostages interfering. He always negotiated better alone anyway. So with the gun tucked under his head and pressing gently into his neck, he spoke. “I can help you,” he said.
“Please don’t even bother. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, I’m having a bit of a crisis at the moment. You’re help isn’t needed. In fact, I don’t believe you are anymore either.” Anthony stepped back, straightened his arm and moved his aim to Kristof’s forehead.
“Wait, wait, please don’t.” Kristof suddenly found himself pleading. Perhaps expecting to be listened to was premature of him?
“I’m going to give you to the count of three before I shoot. I’ve had enough shit in the past hour to last me a lifetime. Now, why shouldn’t I kill you and all of these fine people, and be done with it? One…”
The pressure of a last minute deal usually drove Kristof on, pushing him to the limits of his mental endurance. This was not unlike one of those times, except the pain in his extremities now dampened his quick thinking capacity. All he had in mind was the second group and how they were able to steal the MARCs. His understanding of Simova technology was well above average, so he had an idea of how to help. Unfortunately that was all it was, an idea.
“I can find them,” he blurted out, without the absolute surety that he actually could.
Anthony ignored him and counted one more digit – though he hesitated momentarily. “Two…”
“Please, I can help you track them. It looks like you’ve lost the advantage here anyway. When that count reaches zero, there’ll be nothing to stop the police from storming the building and killing you all. I can find them before that happens.”
Anthony stared into Kristof’s eyes, stopping just short of reaching three. He kept them there rather than appear to be surprised by the suggestion that he may have already been beaten. His reaction was only for Kristof to see, like a short flash of fire behind his eyes, followed by a twitch. He considered the offer without making it obvious which way his mind was swaying. Of course it could also have been an altogether more lethal pondering: should he kill or not?
“Go on,” Anthony said, his gun still against Kristof’s head. He still had not chosen to kill just yet.
“If you want a location then you have to release the hostages.” Kristof squinted as he spoke. He half expected the gun to go off in his face.
“Sir, can I speak with you a moment,” one of the other terrorists said. There was no balaclava on his face either, yet it was still hidden behind a horrendous skull pattern tattoo.
“Not right now, Craig,” Anthony replied, without looking at the man speaking to him at all. He continued to test Kristof’s resolve with a staring contest of kinds instead.
Craig continued anyway. “Sir, we shouldn’t trust him. For all we know he could shut us down completely, he’s working for Simova after all. We should stick with the original plan.”
“The original plan didn’t involve others stealing our MARCs. We can hardly continue like this, can we? We’re losing what we’ve caught.” Anthony lowered his gun, releasing Kristof from his unflinching aim. He then turned and pulled the chair away from the table behind him. With one hand on the chair’s back and the other free he patted the soft cushion, offering it to Kristof.
After a second or two it was clear no bullets were about to fly. Somehow Kristof had gotten through to Anthony. He had also placed a tiny wedge between Craig and his boss; being dismissed so readily had angered Craig deeply. This was Kristof’s way in. “So you’ll agree to release the hostages?”
“Oh yes. In fact I’ll do one better and release you as well.”
“Sir, please–”
“Enough Craig, I’ve made up my mind.”
Kristof fought the pain and limped over to the chair. The moment he sat he began to regret the promise he had foolishly made. He was helping the very people he had tried to stop. This now would be his last chance to save the innocent people all looking nervously to him. He had no choice but to pretend none of them were there at all. The last thing he needed was their tears and pleas distracting him.
“Tell me, Mr. Rajco, how will you find these people for us?” Anthony asked with a hand on Kristof’s neck, squeezing far too hard.
The collection of screens before him was vast. Unfortunately none were really up to the task of hacking the nearby relay. This was the worst thing Kristof could imagine. How could he do a thing without the necessary equipment?
“I should be able to tag one of the MARCs as it’s drawn away. You’ll only have to follow its pings to find it. Triangulation will need at least three relays each time.”
In principle he knew he could get it to work. The problem was not only the weak tech in front of him, it was also the need to break Simova’s firewall protection first – and quickly. He expected Anthony would not tolerate a delay of any kind, let alone one with an undefined time requirement. What he needed was something much stronger in terms of computational ability. Something with the capacity to outperform the most common tech.
“Interesting,” Anthony said directly behind him.
Nothing followed as both had quickly descended into deep thought. Kristof began to work away as best as he could – and one-handed. Except after only a minute or so he hit a problem.
“You aren’t going to be able to do what you’ve said with this shit, are you?” Anthony grabbed one of the tablets and threw it back down. He saw the problem too.
“I can, I mean I could.”
“But?”
“I knew it!” Craig interjected.
Anthony waved him back suddenly. “Leave us,” he ordered. “Go on, Kristof.”
“Well, I need more power. These devices are too weak to hack the relays. I need something much stronger.”
“I believe I have just the thing for the job. Come, follow me.”
In disbelief, Kristof did as he was told. There was something there capable of doing what he promised. It felt odd to him that such a thing was not front and centre. What was it there for if not to help catch the MARCs?
They left the hostages behind and walked a little way to a shop that, on first impressions, had once sold sofas. Inside were three guards all standing with their backs as straight as arrows. One stood underneath a large hole in the roof while the others remained by a small cabinet. The first thing Kristof spotted on top of the cabinet was a holographic projector. Instantly he knew this was the right tool for the job.
“This is more than capable, I believe,” Anthony said, stopping next to the cabinet. He opened the small doors and revealed a busy computer system working away inside. A cable trailing away from it glowed a constant blue.
The computer system hidden inside the cabinet may have been compact, but Kristof knew that such a look was usually deceiving. Despite only possessing one working hand he would know if he could do what he had promised soon enough. “OK. I guess I should get to work then?”
“I think that would be wise. Know that if you screw th
is up then the death of every remaining hostage will be on your conscience. No pressure.” Anthony turned to walk away, chuckling to himself as he did so.
There was just one more thing Kristof had to ask. “Wait,” he said.
With a sudden stop and a half turn, Anthony peered back with curious eyes. “What is it?”
“What are you going to do while I do this?”
After a few moments of silence Anthony eventually spoke. He had been careful to think of the best answer before replying. It meant that his next sentence was one that filled Kristof with as much dread as uncertainty. With another half laugh he said: “I’ll be working on my new escape plans.”
Chapter 18
The house always wins
No less than twenty minutes later and Kristof had singlehandedly – since the other was pretty useless – overcome the first major stumbling-block of breaking through Simova’s protective firewall. Next he just had to worm his way into the system to upload a small and hidden line of code to the relay network. This would enable him to link up with a MARC as it ventured out of the shopping centre and on to the other group. Once he did this he knew it was then a matter of sending and receiving multiple signals, or pings, to and from the MARC. By tracking these pings as each returned – just like sonar – the location would eventually give itself up to them.
“Go tell your boss, I’m ready to tag one of the MARCs. He should be able to track it as it goes,” Kristof said to the guard, another fierce looking oaf. He felt immensely pleased with himself for having achieved the first part of his rescue plan. It was now something he could actually see succeeding. He and the hostages would be spared because of him.
The guard nodded and left without a word.
While he waited, Kristof took the opportunity to rummage around inside the computer he worked on. It was obvious the system had an important role in the operation, he just could not work out what it might be. The MARCs had been called to the shopping centre by the relay, which was connected to another device that he knew provided the raw power behind the Beacon code – he found many references to such a code within the terrorist’s closed computer system.