“You really think it’s that black and white? I lead the bad guys here, because they know you have, whatever it is they want back, and they think they know that I know where you are? Are you off your trolley?”
“Why did you come here, Dillon?”
“Answers, Ezra. Answers.”
“And because you had no other options and nowhere else to take Tatiana. Since my brother killed himself, where else would you bring her, except to her uncle Ezra, despite your initial misgivings and our differences?”
Dillon dropped the cigarette. Grinding the remnants into the hard earth. He turned to meet an impenetrable gaze and their stares locked.
Dillon smiled resignedly, “So what is it you have, that they want back so badly?”
“The original blueprint for Chimera.”
“Chimera?”
Ezra waved his hand dismissively. “I believe that we and the rest of the world are being given a taste of what exactly Chimera is. But for now my inquisitive friend, I advise you get some sleep, what is left of this beautiful night. In the morning, I have many things to show you.”
“Now I’m completely confused. You obviously know who is behind all of this.”
It was not a question.
“I know,” said Ezra, smiling - again his smile held no humour. It was the smile of a shark cornering its prey. The sinister smile of a natural predator.
The wind blew up from the sea. The olive trees shivered in the breeze.
“This Assassin has followed me here, then. To Santorini?”
“I’m afraid that it won’t just be one, but many. The blueprint I have in my possession is, shall we say, instrumental to the downfall of the world powers and the world-wide monetary system. They know that the information and calculations contained within it, becomes the chink in their armour: their Achilles Heel. They cannot let them go un-retrieved, and they therefore cannot let me live. I hold their secret in my hands, like a God holding the key to the birth of a new planet.” Dillon shivered as Ezra’s words enveloped him like the stench and smoke of a burning corpse.
“They will come. And they will come very soon.”
Dillon frowned, lit another cigarette and blew a plume of smoke into the night air. He knew that Ezra was holding out on him, and it pissed him off badly.
“Well bring it on. Let’s see what they’re about...” He said quietly.
* * * Ezra stood in the shadows of an olive tree, thankful that Dillon had gone. The man made him uneasy, put him on edge. Ezra did not trust him; his eyes held too much the look of a killer. He watched closely as one of his personal bodyguard detail exchanged duty. They disappeared into the gloom, moving like ghosts, and he took a long, deep breath, staring up at the vast vaults of the night sky. A cool breeze at last caressed his skin. He rubbed at his chin. He closed his tired eyes.
But the images haunted him.
From another time.
From a different world.
Water and slime glistened on the rough dark stone walls. Russian
voices calling out in the darkness, men, women and children, all embedded with the deep emotion of terror. He moved down the steps, boots thudding dully on the ancient stone. He was deep underground; the weight of the castle above, pressing down upon him.
Kirill and Ramus were there. They were pawing over calculations, algorithms and he was with them. Rows of monitors lined the walls of the former KGB torture dungeon...
Ezra opened his eyes, stared again at the night sky.
“What did youdo?” he murmured wearily. “What in God’s name did we do?”
* * * Alix stared at the Westland WAH-64 Apache Longbow attack helicopter, resplendent in Artic camouflage, with its narrow fuselage, chin mounted guns and disposable armament of rockets and missiles mounted on stub wings. The helicopter was also equipped with the Longbow millimetre wave radar system to enable it to find and identify its targets. Alix turned back to Lola, who was leaning against the battered Mercedes van, smoking a cigarette.
“You say that you can actually fly this Apache?”
Alix nodded.
“You sure?”
Alix nodded again.
“It looks far more complicated close up.”
“It is. But that shouldn’t be a problem, as I could be considered
an Apache veteran.”
“Apache veteran?”
“Yeah, flown one of these babies many times. Albeit, as a
computer flight simulation...”
“What. You’ve only ever flown this thing as a fucking computer
game?”
“Well yes. But don’t worry, computer simulation - real thing,
there’s no real difference between them.”
“No difference. Only that we’ll have about five-thousand feet of
fresh air between us and the ground.”
“Look, we have no choice. And we couldn’t very well waltz onto
a military base and requisition one of these things with an experienced
combat pilot and a navigator? Now when I give you the order, I need
you to climb in - you see the release for the cockpit there? Good.
Climb in - insert this key, turn it clockwise and hit the green buttons
on the dash. You got that?”
Lola frowned. “I thought you’d sorted this, Alix? And I thought
we were waiting for the Priest?”
“I did, I sorted it with my old mate, Tiger Jones, whom I served
with in Afghanistan. He flew the Apache here, and if he ever gets
found out, they’ll throw him in a cell and bury the key forever. Now,
these are the keys, and I have the ignition sequence stored up here.”
He tapped his head. Blowing smoke through a cheeky boyish smile,
Lola slapped Alix on the back. He didn’t flinch or move. “And as for
the Priest? Well, he’s a little bit late and we can’t hang around any
longer for the insane fucker.”
“Late?” Said Lola. “Don’t you mean that we are early?” “Depends on how you look at it,” said Alix. “Look Lola,
Scorpion is finished, we are being shafted left, right and centre by
these Assassin dudes - we need to find out, and find out fast, what
exactly is going on. Tiger’s base was the nearest one to this private
airfield with this sort of technology.”
Lola looked around, her face carrying the full weight of guilt.
Across the deserted airfield other aircraft sat unattended, mainly
Cessna single and twin engine aircraft, a couple of Bell helicopters
and an Air Caravan single propeller aircraft belonging to the local SkyDive centre. Behind them, large hangers, originally used during WW1
to house fighter planes but now owned by private companies involved
in various aviation activities, stood dark and still.
Lola looked up into the night sky. Heavy clouds rolled, and wind
whipped at her with the promise of rain.
“Can you really fly this helicopter?” Asked Lola suspiciously. “Easy - like a walk in the park. Now, where the hell is the Priest,
we need to get going. We’ve got those masked Assassin fuckers killing
Scorpion units and Ferran & Cardini field agents all over the place,
and I’ve got a sneaky suspicion they’re not far behind us.” “Come on,” said Lola, dropping the butt of her cigarette. Smoke
trailed from her nostrils. She ground the remains of the cigarette
under her boot and zipped up her combat jacket to the neck. “Let’s
get on with it then.”
Alix and Lola moved swiftly to the helicopter, Alix opened the
cockpit door and they climbed in. Lola moved around the hi-tech
war machine, poking here and there; she kicked away the blocks from
under the wheels and climbed up, squeezing in to the navigator’s
/>
position. Alix started the ignition sequence, then the twin turbine.
The engine whined, and then roared and Alix smiled like a small child
opening a special present on Christmas morning.
Rain started to fall from the dark tempestuous skies. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Lola said, as the Apache
engine noise increased.
“Have faith my lovely, have faith.” Alix said grinning. “Here we go! Let’s see what this little baby can do. Scotland here
we come...”
Out of the gloom, doing perhaps sixty, sixty-five across the grass
airstrip hammered the Priest’s Aston Martin DB5; the vintage car
slewed around, wheels locked, skidding in a broad-side halt in front
of the Apache in a scythe of water.
The door swung open and the Priest stepped out of the iconic
sports car, he stood for the briefest moment, looking straight at the
cockpit, and then crossed swiftly with his Bible in hand; long leather
overcoat flapping, and climbed up into the helicopter to be greeted by
two blank stares.
Well done, you two, for convening so early. It is good to see that
God’s work is going to be carried out with willingness and punctuality.” “Right,” said Alix, casting a glance at Lola. “We were just
warming up her engines.”
“And are they warm?” Asked the Priest softly.
“They are now.”
“So what are we waiting for? Onward, Christians! Let us find out
the source of this scourge.”
The Apache, engines roaring with power, lurched up from the
grass airstrip, rotated through three-hundred and sixty degrees, then
shot straight up a thousand feet; it halted, hovering, rotated ninety
degrees, then with its short squat nose dipped, hammered forward
into the heavy falling rain.
Alix grinned sheepishly. “Sorry! Just getting acquainted with
her!”
The rotors thumped overhead as they raced through the
downpour.
Lola found herself staring out and down at the bleak landscape
below. They passed over towns and villages, vast open spaces of fields
and forests; cars moved like ants through streets. In high-streets,
shoppers cowered under large umbrellas and rushed between shop
awnings for shelter from the heavy rainstorm. A feeling of melancholy
came over Lola as she watched these tiny people in their tiny houses
with their tiny lives.
“I know exactly what you’re thinking,” said Alix.
“And what might that be?”
“You’re looking at the people -ordinary people going about their
daily business, secure in their ignorance. Not aware of world events
unfolding around them. They watch the news; believe the propaganda
spewed out by the media - like sheep. They have no real concept of
what is really going on, of what the stakes are.”
“That’s really quite profound for you, Alix.”
Alix smiled broadly at her, showing remarkably white teeth. “Lola, you’re so philosophical, girl.” Alix said, “It’s not profound,
it’s a fact based on my observation of ordinary people.”
“Are you ordinary, Alix?” Asked the Priest casually from the rear
of the cabin.
“Hell no. Ordinary is definitely not something I’ve ever done,
Priest.”
Lola patted his arm. “Steady tiger. The Priest was only kidding
with you, and we both know you’re not ordinary. A little weird
sometimes, but definitely not ordinary.”
Alix nodded a big smile across his face.
The Apache banked, heading towards the north east coast of
England; below, cliffs sailed into the distance and they were flying low
over the cold hostile grey North Sea one hundred feet below them.
There was tension between Alix and the priest.
“We’re not going any lower,” said the Priest through gritted teeth. “The wave formations will mask us against radar,” said Alix
softly, eyes bright in the glow of the instrument panel.
“And what about the possibility of downdraft? It could drag us
down at this low altitude and straight into Neptune’s watery embrace.”
said the Priest looking down at the foaming cauldron below. “You can get out any time you like, you insane religious bastard.” “God will protect us, Alix.”
“God will not protect us, Priest. Because he doesn’t really exist -
does he?” Alix gave Lola a sideward glance, and they both knew that
he was messing with fire and brimstone.
“You do not know God’s will, as I do.”
“Ok, Priest. Perhaps he does exist. But I’ve never heard or seen
him, and I haven’t seen the light, either.”
The Apache dropped closer to the waves; sea spray covered the
windscreen and Lola and the Priest stared out wearily, watching the
effervescence water, the crests of the white foam against the rolling
dark grey liquid.
“Do you know anything about this place we are going to?” asked
Lola, after long moments of silence.
“A little,” replied the Priest slowly, his eyes hooded. “It’s a top
secret Government research facility, exclusively used for military
computer software development by professor Kirill and his team of
nerds, because of its inhospitable location, it was built deep beneath a
mountain. The Ministry of Defence is the governing department, but
Kirill only answers to Downing Street. It’s run as a military centre, an
impregnable place from which the Government can securely develop
weapon’s systems and the like.”
“So how did they discover that Kirill was using the facility for
his own end?”
“A lowly level three programmer at the facility overheard a conversation and had the presence of mind to report it back to London. From that point the Ministry had GCHQ monitor every single incoming and outgoing communication by land-line, fax, email
and mobile phone.”
“What’s this facility like?”
“Impressive, my child, very impressive. It is built high up on a
ridge of a mountain. There are only two ways to reach the place - by
air, or by a single car width un-made track. Kirill’s facility is a state of
the art fortress; almost impregnable. An elaborate system of tunnels
underground travel across and down, deep down- access and ventilation
shafts, vast storage rooms, research labs, kitchens, and living modules
- all carved from within the rock.”
“Apart from the obvious defences. What’s the security like?” “Heavy! Special Forces trained security personnel patrol the
interior of the facility as well as the surrounding terrain. Then there
are the laser guided machine-guns, there are at least six of them
strategically located, that are controlled by the central facility computer
system. This might all seem like the impossible, but God will show us
the way...”
Lola shivered.
“This could get messy with lots of bad death.” Alix said matter
of factly through his helmet microphone
“What’s new.” said Lola.
“We have no choice.” The Priest said softly.
“They said that Kirill was a raving fanatical mad-man. But given
his choice of location, I’m not so sure about that.” Alix said. “He might be mad and he m
ight be a fanatic. But he is still
considered the most eminent computer programmer in the world.”
Said the Priest.
Alix nodded.
They remained in silence for the rest of the journey.
GCHQ Transcript 6. Transcript of recent news article. NO FURTHER ACTION REQUIRED.
The Hoover Dam hydro power station was completely shutdown this morning. The shutdown lasted for five minutes, leaving many thousands of inhabitants and businesses without power.
The reactivation occurred as an automated sequence that left technicians and engineers without answers concerning the nature of this
apparent security breach. When reactivation occurred, all passwords and security protocols were initiated without supervisor intervention.
This would suggest either a highly complex virus in the facility’s software. Although some early speculation suggests a sophisticated hacker/terrorist involvement.
The American Secretary for Technology, Bradley Glover, was unavailable for comment...
Chapter 14
Dillon and Tatiana had a simple breakfast of fruit, bread and cheese brought to their room by one of Ezra’s personal assistants, Spiros, and washed down with strong black coffee. Dillon gestured for Spiros to stay, and the swarthy young Greek man sat on a chair by the window. He poured himself a coffee and grinned over at Dillon.
“They say you’re a very dangerous man.” Dillon shrugged and grinning back, said. “You look quite dangerous yourself.”
Spiros shook his head, long dark hair swaying. “No. Mr Dillon. I am here because of my expertise with computer based surveillance programmes. My primary role is to ensure that this facility runs smoothly.” He smiled broadly, and sipped his coffee. “I’ll let Ezra tell you about that; he may not want me talking like this.”
“And there was I thinking that you were just the hired help. Tats, doesn’t he look like the hired help?”
Tats nodded, taking a bite out of the peach she was eating.
“Sorry to stereo-type you, but it’s your whole demeanour. Far too subservient.”
“Hired help - subservient!” Spiros stood up and added. “I am no-one’s hired help, and I am a serving field officer with Interpol, seconded to this facility to act as technical support.”
Dillon held up his hands in mock surrender, “Whoa, hold on there, Spiros. I was only fooling with you, no offence man.”
Chimera Code (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) Page 23
