The Pharos roared its fury, its vile breath turning Sarah’s stomach, and she opened her eyes to see its terrifying head inches from her face.
Sarah glared into its eyeless features, her expression hardening, and spoke again. ‘Musteer bos dushta!’ she said, raising her voice in anger. ‘Mush dalla dista, seer mulla dista!’
The Pharos opened its mouth wide and Sarah raised her arms aloft. ‘MISRAK ARAK DISTA, SHORILL MALLA DISTRA!’
The demon’s body rippled with light and Sarah wondered if she’d made a mistake as it opened its mouth wider still, but then its colour faded and, amazingly, the Pharos retreated, shimmered for a moment and then was gone.
Silence hung heavy in the air and Sarah looked around at those before her, their stunned expressions mirrored back at them by her own.
God had spoken and she’d obeyed; the Pharos was beaten and the day was saved.
Chapter Two Hundred Fifty-Seven
John Henry, President of the United States of America, remained trapped within the White House nuclear bunker, waiting for an asteroid to obliterate those he’d sworn to protect. The world’s other nuclear powers had left his nation and countrymen to their fate, all except the UK, whose firepower was nowhere near enough to stop the inevitable impact that loomed ever nearer.
A muffled explosion reverberated through the room. The GMRC, in the form of Malcolm Joiner and his soldiers, continued in their relentless effort to force open the reinforced blast door in a desperate attempt to prevent a plan that had already failed.
‘Mr President,’ Admiral Yates said. ‘The Chinese and EU fleets are preparing for a full-scale attack. If we’re to launch our nukes, our flagships and submarines will not be able to fully engage.’
John stared at the countdown timers as the launch window grew ever smaller:
‘Mr President,’ Yates said, his expression etched with concern. ‘What are your orders?’
John turned his attention to the screen and its array of real-time military charts and graphs. He gazed at the image of Admiral Yates, which dominated the display’s centre, as another explosion made the lights flicker and dim.
Professor Steiner touched his arm. ‘Mr President?’
John looked at him, his expression distraught. ‘I’ve failed.’ He looked past Steiner to the Chinese premier, Liang Junhui, and then to Jessica and Eric, and lastly to the dead body of the ex-FBI agent, Brett Taylor, who lay where she’d fallen, as did the five Darklight mercenaries strewn around the bunker. ‘Everyone’s going to die,’ John said. ‘And it’s all my fault.’
Part of John still hoped – prayed – that this was all a bad dream and that Bic was manipulating everything he was seeing and hearing on screen. But, despite this being a possibility, now that the other nations had failed to support the nuclear strike of the asteroid, the decision to allow Bic to launch the world’s nuclear arsenal was no longer an issue.
John’s eyes strayed back to the screen, where the asteroid’s approach streamed live from NASA’s Deep Space Detection Array, and he knew he’d not only lived up to his dead parents most hateful predictions about his potential, he’d surpassed them beyond their wildest dreams.
♦
Professor Steiner gazed at the president and knew his pain. They’d come so close, but soon their last hope of saving the surface would be gone, and with it billions of lives, and trillions more in the form of the fauna and flora which populated the lands and oceans.
Steiner had always known garnering support from the other nations was a long shot. However, he’d always hoped they had a chance of convincing them, especially when the asteroid’s close proximity would be more easily detected by terrestrial radar beyond the GMRC’s control. And yet, since the murder of the EU president and the supposed abduction of the Chinese premier – a story carefully choreographed by the Response Council to implicate John Henry – his hopes had been dashed. Reality had set in and with it, the depression of failure. He could see no way out, and like John Henry, he found his gaze returning to the screen and the approaching asteroid which hurtled towards the planet at lightning speed.
The high-pitched drone from Malcolm Joiner’s laser continued to reverberate through the bunker, and a louder explosion made all the lights and screens flicker. Dust sifted down from the cracks that were appearing in the ceiling. As he stood there, Steiner felt someone take his hand and he looked to Jessica, whose eyes brimmed with tears. She, like he, knew the game was up.
♦
‘How much longer?!’
Agent Myers looked at the director. ‘Five minutes!’
Malcolm Joiner looked at his watch as the roar of the military strength laser continued to cut through the blast door of the president’s nuclear bunker. ‘That’s too long. Set more charges!’
It had been five minutes since they’d started, and the high tensile steel glowed white hot; molten metal pooled on the floor before the door. Joiner motioned at the laser. ‘And increase the power!’
‘It’ll overload it,’ said the GMRC soldier operating the device.
Joiner seized the man’s arm. ‘THEN OVERLOAD IT!’
The soldier glanced at Myers, who gave a nod of his head, and the man increased the power.
A new wave of heat flowed back off the door and the stench of burning metal grew stronger.
Joiner stared into the laser’s red beam, his eye reflecting the bright light within. ‘They can’t be allowed to stop that asteroid.’
Chapter Two Hundred Fifty-Eight
The back of the White House glowed white in the darkness of night and Colonel Samson stood on the grass with an empty rifle in his hands, amidst a sea of dead GMRC soldiers.
Six chrome-clad assassins emerged from the ether to surround him, the soldiers around them lying in various states of dismemberment, cut down by the assassins and Samson alike. Two S.I.L.V.E.R. operatives also lay among the dead and their leader approached Samson and said, ‘You fight well, soldier, but you fight alone.’ He raised a shimmering blade. ‘Any last words?’
Samson glared at him. ‘Yeh.’ The sound of reverberations rumbled through the ground beneath the blood-soaked lawn. ‘I’m never alone.’
The assassins glanced round as a massive tank smashed through the outer fence and two more appeared either side of it, the roar of their engines filling the air.
Samson smiled. ‘Say hello to the U.S. Army.’
Helicopter gunships roared through the skies, a hail of bullets tore up the lawn and Samson dived for cover.
♦
Back down in the nuclear bunker, John Henry listened in detached horror as Fleet Admiral Yates of the Pacific Command continued to beseech his president for orders.
The image of Admiral McCormick, Yates’ counterpart in the Atlantic, reappeared on screen, and he confirmed the Europeans were preparing to strike in a coordinated attack with the Chinese. He also requested notification of the president’s orders.
The GMRC’s trap was finally snapping shut. Full-scale battles between U.S. and GMRC ground forces now raged on the Mexican and Canadian borders. The only respite was the retreat of GMRC troops inside the United States itself, troops who had previously swarmed out of the Council’s complexes across the nation.
‘The GMRC soldiers are giving up,’ Eric said. The young German pointed at the internal conflict, which finished as quickly as it had begun.
‘It was a diversion,’ Steiner said.
‘They’re not giving up, Eric,’ Bic said.
‘They’re fleeing what’s to come.’ John looked at Bic. ‘Are you able to help me address the nation?’
Bic nodded and John positioned himself before the camera.
♦
Professor Steiner watched the president ready himself for a speech no one would ever want to give, but as he waited for the inevitable to happen, the same question that had haunted his dreams and nightmares surfaced once again. What are you going to do, George? he asked himself. The time is now. The end has come. What’s it to
be: save the surface and risk the future of our species, or condemn billions to death and allow Malcolm Joiner and the Committee to create a world in their image?
It doesn’t matter anymore, he told himself. It’s out of my hands.
‘Is it, George?’ the voice in his head said. ‘Is it really?’
Steiner frowned and then his eyes grew wide. ‘A live address,’ he whispered. ‘Of course.’ He’d trusted God would show him the way when the time came, and as he looked at the problem in the moment that mattered he realised that’s exactly what had happened.
‘Turn off the camera!’ Steiner said to Bic.
John Henry looked at him in shock. ‘What? Why?’
‘Turn it off!’ Steiner said.
Bic hesitated, and for one moment Steiner thought he saw what the hacker was planning, but then he did as requested and the president’s live address was ended before it had started.
Steiner rushed over to a nearby computer console and brought up a command screen. ‘Bic, get me access to the GMRC’s mainframe.’
‘Professor,’ Jessica said, ‘what are you doing?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, Professor Steiner,’ Bic said.
Steiner glanced at the countdown timer, which had sunk below four minutes, and his stomach clenched in fear. ‘Can’t, or won’t?’
‘Take your pick.’
Steiner slammed the desk in fury and then attacked the keyboard with a flurry of keystrokes. ‘Eric, can you lock Bic out of this console?’
‘Professor?’ Eric said, moving to his side.
‘Can you?’
Eric nodded.
‘Then do it!’ Steiner stared up at the command code, as he fought off Bic’s attempts to stop him entering the GMRC’s system.
‘I can’t allow you to do this, Professor Steiner.’
‘It’s not your decision to make!’ Steiner said.
‘He’s blocked,’ Eric said, furiously tapping away at a nearby console. ‘But I don’t know for how long.’
‘Professor, what’s going on?!’ Jessica said. ‘What’s happening?!’
‘He’s jeopardising the Subterranean Programme,’ Bic said. ‘I cannot allow it.’
‘I thought you didn’t care!’ Steiner said.
‘Oh, I care,’ Bic said. ‘More than you know.’
‘I’m not jeopardising it.’ Steiner continued typing in streams of code. He’d forced Bic to react, and his fear that the hacker wanted to expose the underground bases had vanished. ‘The bases are secure, no one that has any influence knows of their existence,’ – he glanced at John – ‘save the president himself.’
‘What does that mean?’ Jessica said.
‘Each base has military installations on the surface, which means,’ – Steiner executed his computer code and grasped a microphone headset – ‘I may be able to get us more nukes.’ He pressed his eye to the biometric scanner John had used to access the launch codes and a section of the command screen went blank, then a series of empty rectangles appeared, one by one, in two columns, until they numbered a total of forty-four.
‘If anyone can hear me, this is Professor George Steiner. Whatever you have been told by the Council about me is false and under article five eight nine a member of the Directorate, serving, or otherwise, is allowed to give a final address to his assigned division. I don’t believe I was given that opportunity and I take it now.’
Deep below ground, in the Command Centre of each of the forty-four underground bases spread around the globe, the men and women of the GMRC’s largest division, the Subterranean Programme, paused in their work as Steiner’s voice broadcast over their speaker systems. Some stopped in hallways, while others looked up from screens, while yet more swapped looks with colleagues next to them.
‘Regardless of what you have been told,’ Steiner said, his voice resonating with power, ‘the asteroid which you are tracking can be stopped, along with the others following in its wake. So, heed my word and not the Directorate’s when I request you to enact the Harmonic Explosive Residual Defence, the HERD protocol. The lives of your loved ones who remain on the surface are not lost, nor is the surface itself. For any who doubt I am who I say I am, I’m now issuing my biometric verification.’ He sent the appropriate data package and Steiner’s live image appeared on screens within the underground bases. ‘Listen to me now. I am, and I always will be, your Director General. If you wish to make a difference, join with me to fight this threat and we can save the most precious thing no one can replace, Earth itself. Connect to our network when you’re ready and await my command, for it will come ... and soon.’
Steiner lay down the headset and looked to John. ‘Give Bic the codes.’
♦
John Henry gazed down at the plastic authentication card in his hand. The decision he’d been relieved of had returned to torment him and a deep sense of dread once more descended. The card containing the Gold codes filled his vision and he clasped it tight. The fate of the entire world was literally in his hands.
Chapter Two Hundred Fifty-Nine
Sarah Morgan looked around the Anakim pyramid for signs of the Pharos she had just banished using an unknown language, but the demon’s shimmering form remained hidden from view. And with the beast now gone, it was Sarah’s amazing feat which became the focus of those who’d just survived their brush with death.
‘What just happened?’ Jason said.
Trish looked at Sarah in fearful wonder. ‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s a miracle,’ Avery said. ‘Truly, a miracle from God.’
Sarah looked at the bodies of the dead knights and what remained of Nicola Dowling. She couldn’t help but think about the black liquid the Pharos, in its human form, had forced into her mouth – and not just moments ago, but also days before, when she’d slept. What was its purpose? she wondered. What did it want from me? To guide us here, like it shepherded us through Sanctuary? Was it the same Pharos that manipulated me before, or another? How could it possess Dowling and act so human? And if Dowling took my form to frame me, who else could it mimic? Who else was not what they seemed? She looked round at those that had survived the attack and wondered who was human and who was not.
It had stolen Sarah’s identity to turn everyone against her, but why? Why go to such lengths? Was that what it was doing when it came to me in my sleep? Stealing my likeness? There were too many questions and no time in which to unravel them.
With their leader injured, the two remaining Knights of the Apocalypse who’d survived the Pharos offered little resistance to the four Swiss guards, who now disarmed them. The Vatican soldiers – who had somehow managed to escape the attack relatively unscathed – secured Konstantin’s men with their own rope, while Major Lanter and Ruben dragged the man himself before the two cardinals.
‘We should kill him now,’ Zinetti said.
Konstantin bared his teeth at them in a smile of bitter defeat.
Avery stared the Italian down. ‘Put him with the other two,’ the Irishman said to Lanter. ‘We’ll deal with him later.’
Sarah approached the centre of the Anakim eye and bent down to collect the pendant, which no longer glowed with heat.
‘Stop!’
Sarah paused and looked up to see Zinetti pointing a pistol at her.
‘If you’re wondering how many bullets it has left,’ the Italian said, ‘it’s one, which is all I need.’ He motioned with the barrel for Major Lanter to move her away from the pendant.
The major reached out and grasped her arm and Sarah wondered why he wasn’t pulling her away, but then she realised he was trying – really trying. Sarah smiled at him as his face shook from exertion and then found herself using her power to force his arm back.
‘Release him!’ Zinetti said, his eyes bulging with fear.
‘I think you’ll find,’ Sarah said, seizing Lanter’s other hand as he made a grab for her free arm, ‘that he’s holding me.’
‘Let him go, Sarah,’ Avery said.
/>
‘Sarah,’ Trish said in concern. ‘What are you doing? Let him go.’
Sarah wanted to, but she really felt like hurting him. She gritted her teeth, then flung the two-hundred-pound man into Zinetti.
The four other Swiss guards surrounded her as she picked up the pendant, releasing a mechanism which sent another booming sound pulsing through the pyramid, forcing everyone but her to cover their ears.
She held the artefact up to the light; oblivious to the soldier’s shouts demanding she surrender. A deep sense of satisfaction washed over her.
‘Sarah!’ Jason said. ‘What have you done?!’
Sarah refocused on the chamber. Black fluid poured out of the three stone sphinxes’ mouths. The viscous liquid spread across the pyramid’s floor, towards the Anakim eye at its centre, and coated the stone throne that had appeared between the larger sphinx’s forelegs.
Everyone backed away from the creeping sea of black, which slowly encircled them.
‘The holes are closed,’ Ruben said, inspecting the open mouths of the screaming souls which made up the eye’s metal lattice. He inserted his longsword in another and it slid in two feet before impacting a hidden surface.
‘She’s trapped us inside,’ Avery said, looking at Sarah in shock. ‘They were our only means of escape.’
Having untangled himself from Lanter, Zinetti got to his feet and pointed at Sarah. ‘She didn’t save us from the monster. She called it forth and it killed Dowling. And now she’s trying to finish its work!’
Everyone looked at Sarah, who still held the pendant in her hand. She looked down at the silver pentagram inset into the eye’s design and wondered if it was true. Is the giant trying to kill us? she wondered in horror, remembering how she’d felt compelled to confront the Pharos. Is it trying to kill me?
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