Day Zero

by James Swallow

  “Is that thing still after us?” Olly asked.

  She looked up. There were plenty of drones in the sky. No way to tell if the sniper was among them. “I can’t see it. Keep driving.”

  “Maybe he’s gone.”

  “Maybe,” she said, but she didn’t believe it.

  “Do you think – is it Albion? It’s got to be, right?”

  “I don’t know.” Liz saw a drone lose altitude as Olly wove through traffic. Horns sounded, tires squealed, but he kept the accelerator down. “Bagley, see if you can get into the traffic grid and get us a clear lane.”

  Already working on it…

  There was a flash of light and a boom of sound. The boot of the car exploded, the metal lid tearing off its hinges, pinwheeling up over the roof and down off the bonnet. The car bucked on its shocks and Olly struggled to maintain control. Smoke filled the inside of the vehicle, and Liz could smell burning oil. Through stinging eyes, she saw the drone closing in. She crawled into the backseat, ignoring Olly’s protests. “Just keep driving,” she said.

  Liz used the pistol to knock the remaining shards of glass out of the rear window and fired off a rapid series of shots. Her chances of hitting the damn thing were slim to none, but she had to do something. The drone veered and banked. Leaving? She felt a tingle of hope.

  He’s coming up fast, Elizabeth. Oliver, I would prepare to brake…

  “What?” Olly said, even as a car far ahead of them stalled and died. Traffic slowed, but not soon enough. Olly skidded into the car ahead, and there was a crunch and a groan of abused metal. Olly jolted in his seat, his face bouncing off the steering wheel. He fell back, clutching at his nose. Liz was flung into the back of his seat, and for long moments, she couldn’t breathe. She could hear sirens.

  Olly reached over and grabbed her. “We got to go,” he mumbled. “Pursuit drones.”

  Liz pushed him away. “Go, I’m right behind you.” Aching, moving slow, she pushed the seat up and half fell through the open door. Olly was close, a dazed look on his face, turning as if he wasn’t sure which way to go. There was glass in his face and in her hair. She could smell the fumes from the engine block. She pushed herself to her feet.

  She stumbled towards Olly, and pushed him into motion. “Bagley – I need a direction!” An illuminated map filled her display. Durward Street was only a few minutes’ jog away. She picked up speed, and Olly followed her wake.

  “We’re sitting ducks out here,” he said, looking around wildly. “That thing is probably coming back for another pass.”

  “We’re almost there.” Liz kept one eye on the sky. Traffic was locked up and the sky was full of drones whizzing in all directions. But no sign of their pursuer.

  When they finally reached Durward Street, she saw why. The drone hovered boldly over the entrance to the station, waiting. She caught Olly by the sleeve and yanked him behind a parked car. The drone gave no sign of having spotted them. Olly ran his hands through his hair. He was breathing fast, maybe on the edge of a panic attack. Liz shook him. “Calm down. Can you do that for me?”

  Olly gulped and nodded. “What do we do? The camouflage, maybe?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But I don’t want to risk it until we know for sure. Bagley, what can you tell me about that thing?”

  From what I’ve been able to glean, it has a large sensory suite than we expected. Your camouflage isn’t going to work. Not at such close range, anyway. And there’s someone on the other end – a human controller.

  Liz leaned back against the car and slid down into a sitting position. “Damn it.”

  “What?” Olly asked.

  “That explains how it got ahead of us.” She peered around the edge of the bumper. She could see the red and white sign for the underground. It was a small door, barely there at all. A largely unused entrance, these days. But it was across open ground, and no cover to be seen. They couldn’t sit here forever. Eventually it would come looking, or the police would show up. It’d be over for them either way. She closed her eyes. “Fuck.”

  “What are we going to do?” Olly asked.

  Liz opened her eyes, checked her pistol, ejected the magazine, popped it back in. “Olly… think you can make it to the door in good time?”

  Olly looked at her, his face white, eyes wide. “It’s waiting for us to try that.”

  “I know. Think you can make it?”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” He nodded. “We going to make a run for it, then?”

  “You are. I’m going to distract our friend.”

  He frowned. “That’s a bad plan.”

  “It’s the only one we’ve got.”

  “Maybe I can get into the fucker…” Olly reached for her. “Gimme your Optik.”

  Liz passed the device to him without looking at him. She could see the drone now – one moment, it was a sleek, black UCAV and in the next, it was a Parcel Fox courier or a cargo drone. “Bagley, I hope you’re taking notes on this thing.”

  Indeed, Elizabeth. But its firewall is difficult to crack. It appears to have been constructed under the assumption that someone might try and take control of it.

  “Imagine that,” she murmured. At the far end of the street she could see the blue glow of police flashers, and hear sirens. “Now or never, Olly.”

  “Just a couple more seconds. It’s not close enough.”

  “No more seconds. When I say run, you run.”

  He looked at her. “What about you?”

  “I’ll be right behind you,” she said, and smiled. “Trust me.” She peered over the top of the car. The drone was circling, waiting for them to make a run for it. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and stood. “Go!”

  Olly darted for the entrance. The drone turned, momentarily exposing itself. Liz fired. Sparks burst on the drone and it dipped, trailing smoke. She could hear its motors straining and she felt a brief moment of elation, wondering if she’d managed to bring it down after all. But it soon righted itself. It was tough, whatever else.

  She fired again, emptying the weapon in an attempt to hold its attention. As she pulled the trigger, she saw that Olly had made it to the entrance. She relaxed slight. “Bagley?” she asked, as the drone drifted towards her. The barrel of its weapon swung up. She thought about running, but there was nowhere to go.

  Elizabeth?

  “Do me a favour and wipe my hard drives, yeah?”

  Leave it with me, Elizabeth.

  “Thank–” she began.

  She never finished the thought.

  Olly heard the shot. Turned. Hesitated.

  Keep moving, Oliver.

  Bagley’s voice was sharp. It pricked Olly from his paralysis. “She might still be alive…” he began.

  She’s not. Keep moving.

  Olly turned back to escalator. Went down. Adrenaline bled out of him, and he was left on autopilot. The next thing he knew, he was on the East London Overground to Shadwell. He sat back, and watched the city pass in greys and browns. He tried to think, but his brain refused to work. All he could think about was the sound of the shot – the same sound. The same sound, and two people dead, in as many days.

  He thought about Liz, imagined her face going slack the way Dempsey’s had. His stomach heaved, and he wanted to vomit, but there was nothing in him but Haribos and coffee. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his midsection and squeezed.

  When the train finally stopped at Shadwell, he stumbled off, head bowed, hands in his pockets. He bumped into several commuters, paying no attention to any of them. It wasn’t crowded, but there were still too many people for his tastes. Too many drones. He kept waiting for the UCAV to drop down, to put a round through him as he sat on the train. But he saw nothing. Heard nothing, save the beep of unanswered calls on his display. Bagley or Krish, trying to get in touch. He couldn’t muster the energy to answer them.

  Part of him wanted to just ride the train to the terminus and back again. To wait and see what happened. Full lucidity didn’t return until the DL
R train from Shadwell kicked into motion, jolting him on his uncomfortable seat. Olly’s eyes instinctively flicked to the cameras that were in every train car these days. He knew his program was still running, even if his external unit was in pieces. But it made him itch nonetheless.

  He scrubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and forced himself to sit up. He had six minutes until he reached Limehouse. And then what? Liz was the one in charge. She was the one who’d known what to do. Without her – what?

  His eyes went to the cameras again. A thought occurred to him. Six minutes until Limehouse. Six minutes was forever, if you knew what you were doing.

  “Bagley?” he murmured.

  Oliver. Back with us?

  “Yeah. What do I do now?”

  That is up to you. I would recommend getting back to the hideout as quickly as possible. Things have been afoot in your absence, and the others are waiting to debrief you.

  “Others?”

  The great and the good. DedSec London has lost one of its own, and they want answers. That means you, Oliver.

  “You tell ’em,” he said, pulling out Liz’s Optik. An older model, but still functional. “I think I’ve got something more important to do.”

  Care to fill me in?

  “The camera. The one we found in the flat. I was trying to back-trace the signal when things… started happening. The app was still running when my external unit got smashed. But Liz’s will work just fine for what I have in mind.”

  You intend to track down Tell.

  “Got it in one,” Olly said.

  And what about the drone?

  “I’ll risk it. Everything we’ve found is on the cloud. If something happens…”

  I’ll see that it gets to the right people, Oliver.

  “Thank you.” He paused. “What about… what about Liz? We’re not going to just leave her there, are we?”

  Arrangements will be made. DedSec has connections everywhere.

  “We’re all part of the Resistance in our own way,” Olly said.

  Exactly. What are you planning, Oliver? Tell has gone to a lot of trouble to obscure his location. I can’t imagine he’ll be pleased to see you.

  “That’s his tough luck.” The train began to slow. Olly slipped Liz’s Optik into his pocket and stood. He knew where to go now. No telling what was waiting for him at the other end. But he’d deal with it when he got there.

  And if things turn nasty?

  “I’ll do what Liz would do,” he said, softly. “I’ll improvise.”

  23: Betrayal

  “Are you sure this is the place?” Holden asked, as he peered up at the warehouse in puzzlement. “Not that I was expecting anything different, mind.”

  Ro grunted and shoved him towards the door. When she’d made the call, Billy Bricks had answered, and told her to meet them at the same East End warehouse as last time. There was no one on the door, and the place was busy when they went inside. Pallets of product were being moved out to trucks and transit vans, and nothing was coming in to replace it.

  Billy met them inside the door. “This him, then?” he asked, looking Holden up and down. “This the fellow with the shooters for sale?”

  “All that and more, if you can get me out of the country,” Holden said. Ro pushed past him and looked around.

  “What’s going on?”

  Billy smiled. “Moving operations to a new location. Only temporarily of course.” He patted her cheek. “Proper job, Rosemary. Not quite what we were looking for, but good all the same.”

  Ro shoved his hand away. “Am I sorted, then?”

  “Depends on what this one has to say for himself, don’t it?” Billy turned and crooked a finger. “Follow me.”

  He led them back through the rapidly emptying warehouse to the office. As before, Mary Kelley was waiting for them. She wasn’t alone, this time. The Godfreys were there as well. “Saul. Reggie,” Ro said. They nodded back in reply.

  Mary was sitting at her desk, playing with her knife. “Well now. This isn’t exactly what I asked for, is it now?” she said, when Billy closed the door behind them.

  Ro made to speak, but Holden beat her to it. “I know what you want to know, and I can get you guns, bombs, whatever you want, on top of that.”

  “Information and explosives – two of our favourite things, eh, Billy?”

  “Indeed they are, mum,” Billy said, leaning against the door. Ro looked at him, and then at the Godfreys. Neither Saul nor Reggie met her gaze. Something was up. Why were they emptying the warehouse today?

  She turned her attention back to Mary, and found the other woman watching her, a slight smile on her face. “Right little bloodhound you turned out to be.”

  Ro swallowed. “Just doing like you told me.”

  “Hear that, Billy, she was just following orders.”

  “She’s a good girl, mum.” Billy sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

  “Maybe not that good, eh?” Mary rose to her feet and came around the desk. “Your brother came to see you this morning. What was that about, then?”

  Ro paused, startled. “He… he wanted to talk about mum. She’s not been well,” she said quickly, trying to cover her hesitation. They’d been watching her – why? Then it hit her. They suspected her of something. That was why the Godfreys were here. Extra muscle, just in case.

  “Is she feeling rough then, been in the wars? That’s a genuine shame.” Mary sat back on the desk and turned her attention to Holden. “Albion are after you.”

  Holden blanched. “And that’s why I’m here.”

  “You were the one working with our Colin?”

  “One of them, yes. And I can tell you all about that, if you promise to get me out of here. I’ve got names, dates… I know everything.” He looked around. “The information I’ve got, you could use it. Something big is going to happen. The whole city…”

  “I don’t care about the whole city – just the parts I’m partial to,” Mary interjected. “Anyway, I already had a very productive chat with some new associates, who told me everything I needed to know about what that fucking toerag Wilson was doing on my clock in one of my vans. Might even be some decent business to be done there.” She shot Ro a humourless grin. “See, Miss Bloodhound: you ain’t the only one who knows how to winkle out the properly useful information round here.”

  Holden glanced at Ro in confusion, then cleared his throat and tried again.

  “But there are others who might pay good money to know what I know, especially about what Albion are planning. And I’ll sell it to you, at a discount. I just want to get far away from here.”

  Mary peered at him. “Word is, there’s a target on your back. I’ve been where I am long enough to know when someone is cleaning up after themselves. Your name is on a list somewhere, sunshine, and that means you’re in no position to call the odds.” She smiled. “So here’s how we’re going to do this. First, you’re going to tell me everything. And then, assuming you actually tell me anything I don’t already bleeding know, I’ll decide whether it’s worth keeping you alive afterwards.”

  Holden took a step back. “I was promised protection…”

  Mary laughed. “Who by? Her? She can’t promise shit.”

  Ro flinched, but said nothing. There was still a chance for her to get out free and clear, and that meant doing her best not to piss off Mary.

  Holden nodded. “Fine. What do you want to know first?”

  “Oh, I’m not going to ask you. They are.” She indicated the Godfreys. Saul – or maybe Reggie – stepped forward and cracked his knuckles. “But first…” She pressed the tip of her knife to his throat. “Give me your Optik.”

  Holden did as she asked, and she tossed it to Billy.

  “It’s encrypted,” Holden said.

  “That’s what hackers is for,” Mary said. She glanced at Ro. “You brought the phone? The one you found in Colin’s place?”

  “Yeah, but–” Ro began as she fished the phone out.
Mary took it from her.

  “Shut it. There are numbers on here. We can track them. Which means we can find everybody else Holden here was dealing with.”

  “Unless they’ve already gone to ground,” Holden said.

  Mary smiled. “This is my manor, Mr Holden. No one hides from me here.” She put the phone on the desk and gestured. “Saul, you and your brother know what to do. I want everything out of him before we hand him off.”

  “Hand him off?” Ro asked, looking at Holden. “What do you mean, ‘hand him off’?”

  “What do you think I mean?” Mary stepped back as the Godfreys moved up to either side of Holden. “We’re turning him over to Albion. The only question is whether we’re turning him over warm or cold.”

  Holden made to protest, and one of the Godfreys hit him – hard. Holden folded over and fell onto all fours, wheezing. The Godfreys took turns kicking him for a few moments, and then hauled him back to his feet. Ro started forward, but stopped as Billy put himself between them. “You’re in more than enough trouble as it is, love,” he said. “Don’t make it worse.”

  “This ain’t right,” she said.

  “Hark at this one,” Mary said. “Right and wrong are what I say they are, luv. And this is right, for us. Albion have been breathing down our neck since they set up shop in East London, and this is a quick way of getting them off our back so we can all get on with our business. We turn him over, they leave us be. Good for everyone, good for future relations.”

  “And what if they don’t agree?” Ro said.

  Mary shrugged. “That’s why I’m wringing him dry first. And it’s not like we’ll be any worse off for it.” She looked at Ro. “But now then, what do we do with you?”

  Ro’s hands tightened into fists. “I did what you asked.”

  “That you did, that you did. Which is why you ain’t floating in the canal.” Mary pointed at her with the knife. “How long did you think this was going to last, luv? Your brother’s with Albion, and they’re looking to put us out of business…”