by Rob Jones
“Whoever they are,” added Eden as he engaged one of the Rapiers and tracked it onto the enemy Apache before firing.
They watched the plasma screens as the Rapier tore away from its installation at Mach 2.0 and screeched into the sky.
“Maybe we’ll be okay,” Alex said, as she watched the screens.
“I’m not sharing your optimism. Each one of the installations is equipped with four missiles already fixed into the launcher, but after that it’s a two-man lift job to get more missiles into the firing position because they weigh nearly a hundred pounds each. There’s no way we can leave the bunker so when the launchers are empty they’re empty.”
“How many chances does that give us?”
“We have six, so that means twenty-four. We’re going to need more to fight off three Apaches, plus there’s still the Black Hawk you saw as well. That’s a utility chopper designed to carry a squad of soldiers. The fact it’s lurking behind the Apaches waiting until our defenses are taken out can mean only one thing – whoever they are they’re planning on landing some boots on the island.”
They saw the Apache try and take evasive action, pulling hard to port and gaining altitude in a staggeringly sharp climb, but it wasn't enough to outrun the Rapier, and seconds later the missile struck its target and a ferocious fireball exploded in the sky above the ocean.
‘One down, two to go,” Alex said.
Eden frowned as he activated the second Rapier. They were largely automatic but he had taken manual control to be sure of getting the result he desired. “Two plus whatever they’ve got in the Black Hawk.”
The end of his sentence was punctuated by a terrific, fierce explosion so deep in its intensity that Alex thought it had landed right on top of them.
“What the hell?” she gasped.
Eden replied coolly. “Must be the Ammo bunker, so now we’re out of missiles even if we could reload the launchers.”
Kim Taylor watched the plasma screen in silent disbelief for a few seconds before alerting the others to what was happening. “Er, guys – looks like we have company.”
Eden and Alex turned in their seats to face her. “What is it?” Eden asked.
“The Black Hawk just touched down on the north beach – check it out.”
They all watched in grim silence as a dozen armed men in full black Special Forces gear jumped out the chopper, fanned out in a professional formation and began making their way up the beach toward the compound.
Eden slammed his hand down on the control panel. “Who the hell are they?”
“I don’t know, Rich,” Alex said. “But whoever they are, I don’t think they’re here to deliver a kiss-o-gram.”
Kim tried to raise a smile but the situation’s uncertainty just didn’t let it happen. The formation the men were using was a classic fire and movement tactic used by Special Forces and other highly trained forces all over the world, but something told her these were not from just anywhere, but her own country.
“I think they’re Americans,” she said.
“Americans?” Eden said with surprise. He shook his head, a confused expression crossing his face. “What makes you say that – the Black Hawk?”
“Yeah, but not just that. What they’re wearing, the weapons they’re using, how they’re moving. I’ve trained among these people and my money’s on them being Americans.”
“But why would Americans attack Elysium?”
Kim shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea.” She watched more closely as the last of the men slipped out of sight of the CCTV camera, and then a second later the signal was cut and the image of the north beach was reduced to fuzzy static. “And now they’ve cut the CCTV feed.”
For a moment Alex felt like she couldn’t breathe. The island was the safest place on earth because of its isolation, but that also made anyone on it vulnerable if there was ever an invasion – like right now. She knew they couldn’t stay in the bunker forever, and she also know it wouldn’t take the soldiers too long to find its location, either.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
Eden sighed low and long and rubbed his temples as he contemplated the unthinkable.
“Rich?” Alex said.
“We need to leave the island. We have no choice – not with most of the team in the middle of the Atlantic thousands of miles away. The Apaches give them total air superiority and now we know at least a dozen enemy soldiers have their boots on the ground. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I’m giving the order to evacuate.”
“And just give up?”
“There’s nothing we can do.”
“The hell there isn’t,” Alex said. “Can we call out of here?”
“Of course.”
“Then we still have a chance.”
CHAPTER FORTY
Hawke, Lea and Ryan heard the second explosion on the surface but they felt none of the shockwave because it was too far away. When he scanned the sea to the north he saw the tuna boat was now also missing, turned into a similar quantity of burning wreckage and debris as the VCSM.
Kruger and the rest of his goons also saw it and immediately broke off their attack before retreating to the remains of their boat, leaving Hawke, Lea and Ryan alone among the ruins of Atlantis.
“What the hell was that?” Ryan called out.
“We’re under attack,” Hawke said. “They’ve hit the ship… and she’s drifted a lot more than I thought she would as well – I can barely see what’s left of her.”
“My God!” Lea said through the comms. “The whole team is on that ship!” As she spoke, pieces of the destroyed ship began to rain down a few hundred feet in the distance, leaving twisting trails of bubbles in their wake.
“But who’s attacking us?” Ryan said. “Can’t be Kruger – he wouldn’t have destroyed his own boat!”
“We have to get back!” Hawke yelled. “There might be survivors!”
“But what about Kruger?” Ryan yelled. “He still has the idol.”
“Forget him,” Hawke said. “The team needs us – besides, by the look of his boat he’s not going anywhere.”
They spun their scooters around and weaved in and out of the broken ruins on their way out of the destroyed metropolis.
“I don’t like this, guys.” Ryan said. “Maybe they’re all dead, and now we’re in the middle of the ocean without a ship.”
“At least Atlantis was unharmed,” Lea said.
Leaving the ghostly ruins of Atlantis far behind, Hawke looked over his shoulder at the ancient site and agreed with her. “We’re coming back here,” he said. “Wait a minute…”
“What is it?” Lea asked.
“Am I going insane or is Atlantis glowing?”
“Eh?” Lea and Ryan twisted around on the scooters. “Turns out you’re not going insane,” Lea said.
“It really is glowing!” Ryan said.
And then it happened.
The ruins of Atlantis began to rupture and then exploded in a massive fireball.
The blast was enormous, spewing an enormous cloud of silt and dirt into the water all around the ruins in a gargantuan sphere. It reminded Hawke of the old nuclear tests the French did in the South Pacific when they used to detonate twenty kiloton bombs in lagoons. Exactly like those tests, the water behind them was now illuminated with the brightest light he had ever seen. “Close your eyes!” he yelled.
He knew what was coming next. Behind them, whatever had detonated in the ruins had created a rapidly expanding bubble of gas that was about to generate the mother of all underwater shock waves. “Hold on to the scooters if you can!”
But as the shock wave overtook them, they were soon blasted off their scooters and sent tumbling over in the water in all directions. Hawke felt like he’d been hit by a concrete wall.
Dazed by the explosion, they swam upwards through the filthy water toward the final location of their ship and their friends. The VCSM had drifted in the storm further than Hawke thought and the m
assive underwater detonation of Atlantis has pushed the wreckage even further away. It felt like he’d never get there, but then the light broke through. “I can see people swimming in the water. There are survivors!”
“We have to help them!” Lea said.
The sea got murkier again, and for a long time they swam through more silt-laden gloom as they struggled to reach their friends. “Keep going!” Hawke shouted. “We have to help the survivors.”
“But where are they?” Ryan said as they emerged into the light once more. “They’ve gone!”
“Eh?” Hawke looked up and saw he was right. Where once had been the kicking legs of several survivors, now there was no movement at all. Then he broke the surface and got the answer.
There, rising and falling with the ocean wave was a Mil Mi-14.
When Ryan reached the surface he joined Hawke. “What the hell is that?”
Before Hawke could reply Lea arrived and gasped. “What the hell..?”
“It’s a Russian anti-submarine chopper,” Hawke said. “And as you can see from the nifty way it’s parked on the sea, it’s amphibious.”
The side door was open and inside he could see Reaper and the others on their knees with their hands behind their heads. Beside them were Dirk Kruger, Dragan Korać, Luk and Kamchatka in the same position.
A man in a black flying suit pointed a megaphone in their direction. “Welcome aboard.”
Hawke and the others exchanged a glance and Lea shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not staying around here that’s for freaking sure.”
*
Their hosts said nothing as they climbed into the chopper, struggling against the powerful downdraft of the Mil’s five mighty rotors. Inside the atmosphere was calm but oppressive and Hawke counted at least three submachine guns pointed at the prisoners.
“Please,” said the man in the flying suit. “Feel free to get on your knees and put your hands behind your head. We will be at our final destination shortly.”
Hawke had no choice but to comply, and before he had even followed the man’s instructions the door was closed and the chopper rose up out of the water, banking hard to starboard and gaining altitude sharply.
The flight seemed anything but short, and Hawke had to wait a long time until the guards began talking among themselves before he could turn to Scarlet. “What the hell’s going on?”
“They blew up our ship with a Hellfire and then repeated the courtesy for Kruger’s tuna boat. Now we’re all going on an adventure weekend together.”
“Where?”
She shrugged. “Check out the tattoos on their wrists.”
Hawke glanced at the men again and saw the strange markings: ΆΘ.
He turned to Ryan. “What the hell are they?”
“Oh sodding hell,” Ryan said.
“What?”
“It’s Greek,” he whispered. “I can’t be sure but my money’s on it symbolizing the word Athanatoi.”
“The Immortals!” Hawke said, but was interrupted by Lexi.
“Oh my God,” she said genuinely shocked. “What the hell is that?”
Hawke peered through the chopper’s tiny window and whistled with surprised admiration. “Looks like some kind of oil rig, only much bigger.”
“It’s a Seastead,” Ryan said, looking through the next porthole a few feet to their right.
“A what?” Lea asked.
“It’s like a floating city,” he replied, grinning and nodding with respect. “The mother of all tax havens.”
“It must be at least a kilometre long,” Reaper said shaking his head gently with shock.
“They’re being talked about as the answer to overpopulation problems,” Ryan said casually. “But there are some issues to do with sovereignty and what laws would be in effect there. To be honest I thought they were only theoretical until about twenty seconds ago.”
“It’s pretty bloody amazing, I know that,” Lea said. “They must be residential buildings on the south side, and tennis courts? This is crazy.”
“Who the hell would build an entire floating city in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean?” Scarlet asked. “It’s not even like it’s anywhere near Atlantis – we must be hundreds of miles away from there by now.”
“Nearly a thousand miles away by my calculations,” Ryan said. “So not quite in the middle of the Atlantic, but almost.”
“It’s impressive,” Hawke said. “I’ll give them that.”
“There are three basic designs for a Seastead,” Ryan continued. “A small structure that floats on pontoons, a structure that is basically designed like a ship only immobile, and then a larger platform design which is supported by massive columns submerged into the ocean below to stabilize it in the way a keel does on a ship. It’s hard to tell from up here but my money’s on the latter because of its sheer size.”
“But why here?” Lea asked. “Why not closer to Atlantis?”
“Judging by how long we’ve been in the air we must be in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean by now, over the Mid-Atlantic ridge,” Ryan said.
“But why a thousand miles from the ruins?” Lea said.
“There must be a reason, and I think I have an idea.” Maria said, biting her lower lip with excitement.
“What is it?” Hawke asked.
“I’m thinking this could be another source of the elixir.”
Ryan nodded. “I think that’s a pretty good guess. A floating city like that would cost hundreds of billions of dollars to construct. It must be here for a very specific reason, and considering we know that Atlantis is over a thousand miles away and totally destroyed, the logical conclusion is that whoever built it must have had a very good reason to do so. A source of eternal life would fit the bill, and a Seastead would be the perfect way for anyone who wants either to guard it or access it with the minimum of effort.”
“By building a whole city over it?” Scarlet said, her tone heavy with scepticism.
“Easier than sailing a ship all the way out here every time you want to get to it, and if you have the money then why not?”
Hawke stared at the vast rig on the horizon, trying to steady himself as the chopper turned to land above the increasingly choppy waves far below. He’d read about Seasteads a long time ago but all he could recall was they could be towed around by a tugboat. This thing was far too big for that and must have been constructed on the site somehow, presumably with the assistance of a couple of large container ships.
It was literally like a small city on the horizon, but in the middle of the ocean. As they got closer he saw the residential buildings Lea had seen but in greater detail now, and there was even a marina and palm trees dotted along its perimeter. More interesting than that was what looked like some kind of refinery on the north edge, which he pointed out to the others.
“When I read about Seasteads I always visualised something a little more industrial, like an oil rig,” he said.
“Maybe in the early days,” Ryan replied. “But the architects’ imaginations soon ran wild and it wasn’t long before these things were being cooked up. It’s a classic start-up city but instead of being for normal people, apparently it’s full of psychopathic maniacs guarding sources of eternal life.”
“When you put it like that, I wish this bloody chopper would hurry up so we can get there!” Scarlet said, peering down at a large white yacht moored at a marina jutting out of the platform’s support structure. Beside it was a small container ship.
“We can’t be more than a few seconds away,” Hawke said, but then the chopper turned suddenly to port and their view of the Seastead was gone, replaced with nothing but an unbroken horizon and a dark gray sky.
“I’m not digging the look of that storm,” Lea said.
“Could be to our advantage,” Hawke said.
“Here we go again…”
“Just saying.”
He felt the chopper descend and then it landed on the platform’s Helipad. A few minutes later, the door opened and
one of the men opened the door. He was holding a submachine gun in his hands, pointing it menacingly in their direction. “Get out.”
The storm had risen in power by the time they stepped out of the chopper, and they had to hold on to rails at the edge of the Helipad to stop getting blown over. The guards kept well back in case any of them tried anything funny, and moments later they were standing on the platform in the blasting rain and wind at least a hundred feet above the ocean.
Close up, the construction looked even more incredible. Hawke took the opportunity to study its design, and recalling Ryan’s words about the three main kinds of Seastead he could see by the gargantuan substructure that this was a platform based on semi-submersible columns.
Ships always had the choice of avoiding storms by setting a new course and using their radar to sail into calmer weather, but a Seastead had to be designed to withstand the most savage of storms. Looking at the sheer size of the semi-submersible columns at work in the rising storm, Hawke could see up close how they worked to stabilize the immense construction they supported.
The man with the C8 carbine was joined by several others and they gathered around the chopper in the blasting wind. He stepped up to them and raised his weapon. Behind him, two men dragged another man from the complex. He had been badly beaten and was barely conscious. He was dressed the same as the other men and had the same tattoo on his wrist.
“You’re just in time to see Lazarus here meet his maker,” yelled the man.
He raised the gun and aimed it at Lazarus, who said nothing, and merely closed his eyes.
“All traitors die for their crimes in the end,” the man said, raising the carbine.
A bolt of lightning burst from the sky and struck the conductor at the top of the Seastead. The armed guards looked up for a second and Hawke knew if he ever had one second to save his life and those of his friends, then this was it. Without hesitation, he burst into action.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Hawke seized the muzzle of the carbine and forced it down so it was pointing at the platform. The man’s reaction was fast, squeezing the trigger and loosing a savage burst of rapid fire into the deck where the bullets pinged off the riveted steel sheeting in all directions. The Englishman heaved the weapon up into the air and directed an arc of bullets at the welcoming committee and made everyone run for cover. The noise of the gunfire was deafening but the magazine was empty in seconds and left only smoke and the smell of gunpowder, soon whipped away by the howling wind.
