‘What?’ Myers said. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. Who’s Gerhard Beck?’
‘The man GMRC Command told me to release!!’
‘GMRC Command gave no such order.’
‘What? Impossible! I spoke to them myself!’ An explosion in the background made the man glance behind. ‘My men are dying up here, I need backup!’
‘I don’t care about your losses, Agent Dante,’ Myers said. ‘Where’s the president? Does he live?’
‘Yes, we think he has help from the terrorists.’
‘The last I heard,’ Myers said, ‘you had them in custody and were about to have them terminated. What happened?’
‘The FBI Director was causing me problems. I was tasked with isolating the president. The terrorists weren’t my priority.’
‘And what a good job you’ve done,’ Myers said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘One unarmed man surrounded by hundreds of elite agents and you can’t even keep him contained.’
Agent Dante glared into the camera.
‘Perhaps if you weren’t busy fucking his wife every other hour, you might have got your head out of your ass and DONE YOUR JOB!’ Myers took a moment to calm himself and then said, ‘Do you have any other news for me, or shall I inform the Directorate of your abject failure?’
‘The terrorists,’ Dante said. ‘They think they can stop the asteroid.’
‘Impossible,’ Myers said, ‘and even if they could, we both know it would make no difference.’
Dante said something else, but another explosion made the screen crackle and fuzz and he mouthed something into the camera before the connection died and the screen went dark.
Myers turned back to look inside the train. ‘Did you hear?’
‘It’s Steiner,’ said a voice laced with malice.
‘Can it be true?’ Myers said. ‘Can they stop it?’
‘That’s why they’re here. His plan has finally been revealed. A co-ordinated nuclear strike.’
‘A nuclear strike?’ Agent Myers watched as a team of twenty-two elite soldiers emerged from the train, their armour a darker shade of grey. ‘Are you sure?’
The soldiers stood guard, while the sound of whirring motors and heavy metallic footsteps echoed through the train’s open doors and onto the platform. A moment later, Malcolm Joiner emerged through the lingering vapour, his crippled body supported by a black exoskeleton, while his hate-filled expression further deformed an already disfigured face. ‘I’m positive,’ Joiner said, his twisted lip peeling back into a sneer. ‘He endangers us all.’ He closed his eye for a moment and took a deep breath.
‘Sir,’ Myers said. ‘You shouldn’t be here, your health is more important.’
Joiner’s eye flared open. ‘Do I look like I care about my health?!’
Myers took a step back from his director’s ferocity. ‘I just meant you’re still recovering from surgery. Perhaps you should stay on the train. You’re still weak—’
Joiner surged forward, grasped Myers round the throat and lifted him off the ground with one power-assisted arm. ‘Never,’ he said, his eye narrowing to a slit, ‘call me weak.’
Myers managed to nod and Joiner let go, dropping him to the ground.
Joiner bent down and picked up the device Myers had dropped. He held up the screen, which still flickered and crackled with white noise.
‘Computer, show me the latest body-cam footage sent to GMRC servers from the Secret Service.’
‘Certainly, Director Joiner,’ said the computerised assistant.
An instant later a selection of thumbnails appeared. Joiner selected one and the video expanded.
Joiner watched as explosions tore through the conference room and a demonic figure strode through fire, wielding two swords. ‘Ophion,’ he said, staring at the screen with his single eye.
‘Agent Dante said he needed backup,’ Myers said, massaging his throat.
‘Then backup he will have.’ Joiner motioned to one of his elite guard.
The soldier gave an order through his helmet’s radio and the train’s doors, interspersing its long length, slid aside with a pneumatic whoosh. More grey-clad soldiers emerged, scores of them, their suits of high-tech armour glinting in the half-light and helmet visors aglow with silver light. Each of these heavily armed marines carried a sophisticated assault rifle and sported a logo on their breastplate:
And an emblem on the side of each arm:
Joiner flicked a switch in his exoskeleton’s control panel. ‘Your country needs you,’ he said, his voice now amplified. ‘Your planet needs you. I need you. Do I have your allegiance?’
The GMRC regiment saluted as one, the sound reverberating through the underground station.
‘GO!’ Joiner said. ‘Find the president. Find the terrorists. Find Ophion Nexus.’ The soldiers headed towards the surface. ‘The safety of the new world is at stake! LEAVE NONE ALIVE!!’
Chapter Two Hundred Fourteen
John Henry tried to avert his eyes from the dead bodies of Secret Service and FBI agents, which littered the Capitol’s halls. The sound of gunfire had receded and only the occasional groan could be heard from those who hadn’t avoided the bloodbath before it had moved elsewhere.
‘John,’ Ashley said, staying close to him, ‘what’s happening?’
John didn’t reply, but it was a good question, even if the source was his adulterous wife. He was still unable to dispel from his mind the videos of her shown him by the hacker. He looked at the people around him. Liang Junhui, the Chinese premier, walked alongside John, his face unreadable. He’d been betrayed, just like John had, but unlike John he was alone in a foreign land and surrounded by strangers. Strangers, John thought, looking at Ashley. She might be my wife, but I don’t know her at all.
‘Well done, John.’ His mother’s voice echoed in his mind. ‘You’ve failed again. Your friend is sleeping with your wife, can it get any worse?’
‘He’ll always fail,’ his father said, an image of John’s dead parent hovering before his mind’s eye. ‘I’m surprised she didn’t leave him. He obviously couldn’t satisfy her. He’s not a man. He’s got no balls. You’re an embarrassment to the family, boy, do yourself a favour and give up. It’s what you do best.’
‘Who’s killing these people?’ John said. He stopped moving and bent down to hold the hand of an FBI agent who was close to death.
Brett looked around the scene of carnage, tucked the pistol in the back of her belt and scooped up a discarded assault rifle. ‘He’s an assassin,’ she said, checking the magazine. ‘We need to keep moving.’
The woman with the ginger hair crouched down beside John. ‘He’s gone,’ she said, closing the man’s eyes.
John realised the agent’s hand had gone limp and he rested it down gently on his chest. ‘One man did all this? Why?’
‘He’s here to kill you, Mr President,’ Brett said.
‘Me? Why me?’
‘Because you’re the key to everything.’
John frowned. ‘And why are you here?’ He stood up and looked around at the three people who’d come from nowhere. The young man spoke with a German accent, the small woman sounded English, and her large friend was as American as they came. ‘Were you with the EU president, part of her delegation?’
‘Something like that,’ Brett said, waving everyone forward.
‘Wait,’ John said, but everyone kept walking. ‘Wait!’ He looked at the Englishwoman again, as she motioned for him to stay silent.
The young German swore. ‘Ach,’ he said, giving John an angry look. ‘He’s going to get us all killed.’
John thought back to the voice he’d heard in the room where he’d met these newcomers and something dawned on him. He took a step back in shock and pointed at Jessica. ‘You! You’re the newsreader, Jessica Klein! You’re working with Da Muss Ich, the people who abducted me. You’re the terrorists!’
Jessica sighed and then removed her wig and prosthetics and Eric did the same.
Brett had removed hers some time before.
John looked at them in fear and then turned to Brett. ‘I knew I recognised you.’
‘They’re the terrorists?’ Ashley said, moving closer to him.
The Chinese premier joined them and John looked down at a discarded pistol. Brett said, ‘Don’t even think about it, Mr President.’
John swallowed and held up his hands.
‘We need to keep moving,’ Jessica said, looking scared. ‘The assassin could be anywhere.’
John shook his head. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you people.’
‘We’re trying to help you,’ Eric said. ‘We’re not terrorists.’
John snorted. ‘Da Muss Ich is the biggest terrorist who’s ever lived.’
‘You’re right, he is,’ Jessica said, her expression grim. ‘But he’s not with us.’
‘You worked with him in my abduction and he led me to you just now. If you want me to believe your lies, you need to come up with something better than that.’
Jessica strode forward and grasped his arm. ‘People have died for us to get this far, many people. People I care about. I can’t force you to believe us, but you know there’s an asteroid heading for the United States and it’s almost here. If you want to save millions of lives, you need to listen to us, and listen good.’
John opened his mouth to speak, but Jessica continued.
‘We told you we’d come,’ she said. ‘We’re here. And you need our help and we need yours.’
John’s mind returned to his abduction, over two weeks earlier. So much had happened since then it was difficult to recall what was real and what was not. ‘You don’t want to help me make a public address.’ His eyes grew wide and he shrugged off Jessica’s hand. ‘You want me to order a nuclear strike!’
‘Yes, to destroy the asteroid,’ Jessica said. ‘You’re the only one with the power to do so.’
John laughed. ‘Look around. I have no power. I doubt I ever did. I’m beginning to wonder if any leader has. We’re controlled by outside forces, the GMRC, foreign nations, companies and God knows who else. If we survive, I think I’ll keep martial law and get rid of all those people who serve themselves instead of this nation – instead of its people.’
‘You still have power, Mr President,’ Brett said. ‘If you didn’t, people wouldn’t be trying to kill you.’
‘We need to stop fighting amongst ourselves and get to the basement, and the transport system,’ Jessica said. ‘Even if you don’t believe us, or want to help us, it’s better than staying here to die, isn’t it?’
John hesitated.
‘We’ll help you get to the White House,’ Jessica said. ‘You can address the nation, and if you change your mind about savings millions of lives, then we’ll be on hand.’
‘John,’ Ashley said. ‘You’re not seriously considering it are you?’ She looked down her nose at Jessica. ‘You can’t trust these people.’
John looked at her in disbelief. ‘And I can trust you?’
Ashley flushed. ‘I may have slept with Dante, but these people will get us killed.’
John looked at his wife, and then to the terrorists, and finally to the Chinese premier, who said, ‘We have a saying in the East, Mr President. Deep doubts, deep wisdom. Small doubts, little wisdom.’
John looked down in thought for a moment and then made a decision. ‘Let’s go catch a train.’
Chapter Two Hundred Fifteen
John hurried after his new companions, who’d revealed themselves as Jessica, Eric and Brett. The very people he’d recently requested be brought to justice, dead or alive. How the tables had turned. Now he was the hunted.
They reached a corner and Brett held up her hand; everyone stopped behind her and she peered round to see whether the coast was clear.
‘Go,’ she said waving them across a hallway and into another corridor on the Capitol’s second floor.
John hurried along, his footsteps echoing off the silent halls. Ashley tried to take his hand and whisper something to him, but he shook her off and increased his pace.
Jessica was at the front. ‘I think someone’s coming,’ she said.
John joined her at a stairwell and caught sight of grey-clad soldiers entering from the floor below. ‘GMRC,’ he whispered.
Jessica waved the others back and the party of six ran back the other way. Then, as they turned a corner, a figure dressed in chrome armour appeared at the far end of the corridor. John dived left as a bullet whizzed past.
‘RUN!’ Jessica screamed at him.
John didn’t need telling twice; he sprinted away and the others followed.
♦
Brett Taylor stood in Statuary Hall waiting for her target to appear, her newly acquired rifle raised to shoot. She knew if Ophion followed the president she could get the drop on him. However, since she’d parted ways with John Henry and the rest of their small group, the hallway beyond had remained empty.
More seconds passed and a bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. She adjusted her stance. Her right eye peered through the rifle scope with laser-like intensity; a second later the assassin strode past and she depressed the trigger.
A spray of bullets ricocheted off Ophion’s helmet, but he turned towards her, unharmed. Brett walked forward, continuing to fire. More bullets peppered the giant assassin, but he kept coming and in the blink of an eye he was on her.
The rifle spiralled from her hand as she ducked a right hook and swung at thin air.
A hand grasped her round the throat and slammed her against a marble pillar.
Brett stared into the assassin’s mirrored visor, and her own reflection gawped back at her.
‘You’re brave,’ Ophion said, ‘but foolish.’
Double doors opened on the far side of the hall and armoured GMRC soldiers poured through. They saw Ophion and he dropped Brett and turned to face the new threat.
Gunfire exploded all around as Brett crawled away through another exit and ran.
♦
John heard gunfire from behind, but as Ashley ran past him he grabbed her hand and pulled her back. Ahead of them, more GMRC soldiers swarmed onto the Capitol’s second floor.
They turned and ran back the other way, straight into Jessica, Eric, and the Chinese premier.
‘There’s no way out,’ John said. ‘They’re everywhere!’
‘This way,’ Brett said, as she reappeared, and she led them through two antechambers and out into the Great Rotunda.
John looked up at the great dome of the Capitol as they passed through, the awe-inspiring monument amplifying the gunfire behind.
They reached the other side and skidded to a halt.
In the distance, they could see the Special Agent in charge of the Secret Service was striding towards them, with an army of agents at his back.
‘Dante,’ Ashley said.
They were trapped!
Chapter Two Hundred Sixteen
‘Do you require some assistance?’ someone said.
John looked round and saw a nearby visitor centre hologram, except it wasn’t one of the traditional Red Coat guides, but a man with dark hair wearing a pair of slacks and a black shirt.
‘We don’t want your help!’ Jessica said, glaring at Bic’s image.
‘Professor Steiner would have wanted you to complete the mission, Jessica Klein.’
‘You killed the professor!’
‘I did what was necessary to complete the mission.’
‘Necessary?!’
‘Jessica,’ Eric said. ‘What do we do?’
John knew there was nothing anyone could do. Not now.
‘We need your help, Da Muss Ich,’ Eric said, as the GMRC and Dante closed in. ‘Help us!’
‘I already have, Eric.’
‘Mr President,’ said a deep voice.
John turned to see the assassin standing before him, his chrome armour spattered with blood.
‘Mr President, I would have been with you sooner,’
Ophion said, ‘but I had to eliminate the competition. I hope you understand. I couldn’t let anyone else kill you.’ He drew one of his swords. ‘That’s my job.’
‘Reinforcements are on their way!’ Bic said, his hologram growing larger. Ophion glanced in its direction.
Bic grinned. ‘Or should I say reinforce ... ment.’ The hacker’s hologram looked up at the dome above.
A roar of noise permeated the massive structure and a second later a spray of tracer bullets cut through the dome, tearing up the stone floor, heading straight for Ophion.
The assassin somersaulted away and Bic said to the others, ‘I’d get out of the way, if I were you.’
‘I knew you couldn’t run forever, John!’ Dante said. He entered the rotunda with his men, just as a host of GMRC soldiers flooded into the great hall through another two entrances.
The gunfire from above ceased. The roar of jet engines shook the building. Dante looked up in shock, and a moment later the enormous dome exploded inwards in an avalanche of stone.
John hauled Ashley backwards, as Jessica screamed and everyone dived for safety.
Huge chunks of masonry smashed through the floor and John gazed up in disbelief as a military jump jet descended from the heavens, like an avenging angel.
The roar of its rotational engines engulfed the Capitol’s interior with wind and it spun round and unleashed its armour piercing cannons.
Ophion spun away from the assault and the plane manoeuvred round to strafe the GMRC soldiers, half of whom lay buried beneath the decimated dome. Dante’s team fled for cover, but a second later an explosion crippled one of the aircraft’s engines and it careered out of control. The cockpit opened as it plunged through the floor, then smashed into the storey below. The plane exploded on impact, blowing a crater into the basement beneath.
‘Scheisse!’ Eric said, staring in disbelief at the devastation.
Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2) Page 110