Chimera Code (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series)

by Andrew Towning

  The Priest lifted his MP5 above his head and emptied a full magazine in a wide arc. Alix shuffled forward to get himself into a better firing position, but the shooter had anticipated his move and was taking single pot-shots at him. He cursed this sudden turn of luck, and then returned the fire, exactly as the Priest had by emptying a full magazine directly at him or her...

  How the hell had they missed this one?

  All of the other Assassins and security guards had left with the Chinooks. This one must have been stationed at one of the observation points on the mountain.

  It didn’t matter now - all that mattered were the bullets! They snapped past him. Alix emptiedanother magazine and allowedit to fall free; it clattered onto the ground, bouncing once on the wet surface. The Priest was at Alix’s side, the two men stayed low as they sprinted across the open space of the landing bay. More bullets howled past them, Alix wrestled a fresh mag into his weapon, flicking it around so that his arm snapped out, holding the sub-machine gun like a pistol.

  “You want to fuck with me?” He screamed; sighting on the position of the shooter, as the fusillade of bullets tried to snuff out its lights.

  Alix unleashed the awesome power of the Heckler & Koch MP5 and bullets streamed across the landing bay and ate a line across the fifty-gallon drums. Av-Gas immediately started to leak out and creep across the ground, heading straight towards - the Priest and Alix.

  Alix met the Priest’s gaze for the briefest instant; there was madness there, and anger, and strength. And then both men jumped over the rampart, bullets chasing their heels, igniting the lake of aviation fuel that had spread around the landing bay. An explosion, and then another, and another, as the fifty-gallon drums started to explode and flames billowed and shards of hot metal hurtled through the thick black smoke that was consuming the entire landing area.

  Even before the two men had gone over the rampart, Alix had the pistol in his right hand, was firing a piton attached to a fine reinforced line into the solid rock of the landing bay roof and the karabiner attached to Alix’s bullet proof vest was now supporting both of them from a certain death far below.

  The entire landing bay was ablaze with flames licking every granite surface.

  And then the fire died as quickly as it had been born.

  Alix engaged the pistol’s motor-drive and the line started to reel itself in, and they started to ascend back up to the ledge. As the two men were almost there a black clad figure peered over the rampart in search of them - Alix fired three bullets into the Assassin’s face, and the killer dropped without a sound. Alix flicked his gaze left, and the Priest had gone.

  He sidled over the rampart and then halted, dropping to a crouch, noxious smelling smoke swirling around him. And then he heard the sound of machine guns, with an immediate stream of return fire. There were two thuds as bodies slapped to the hard stone ground. Alix ran to crouch beside the wall, eyes scanning; the shadows and the drifting smoke his new-found friends. Before him the open entrance of the facility, a gaping gash where the armour plated glass wall had once been, everything bathed in a gloom and murkiness.

  Silence followed...

  From behind came a strange creaking noise. Alix focused his senses; the landing area was vast, and littered with burnt out debris. It was a sniper’s heaven. But the problem was; Alix wasn’t a sniper!

  How many killers and guards had really been left behind?

  There had been three guards, all were now dead. Four Assassins had entered the facility. Leaving only the shooter who had gone over the rampart, that left, he saw them out of the corner of his eye, two Assassins - they were operating as a unit. As he watched, they moved fluidly in and out of the shadows beside the burnt out stack of fifty-gallon drums - Alix watched them climb smoothly up and over any obstacle that stood in their way, as they disappeared from view. His eyes flickered on the burnt-out remains of the Bell Robinson helicopter in the middle of the landing bay.

  Alix remained in a crouch. Remained perfectly still, only his eyes moved, scanning for any movement through the smoke filled area.

  Imminent danger... And not from the obvious quarter. No, this was a premonition from deep within him.

  Alix saw the Priest; he moved warily from the shadows and Alix realised, too late, that the Assassins had out maneuvered the big man and were positioned above him now. Alix raised his gun and started firing.

  Bullets struck sparks from the metal fifty-gallon drums, and ploughed furrows in the stone walls. The Priest spun - and with surgical precision fired one long burst of the MP5 on automatic at one of the thick overhead cargo carrying cables. With a shearing of tortured metal it snapped, sending deafening echoes reverberating across the vast area and out into the mountain range. As the cable snapped, one half snaked its way out of the pulley assembly and slinked over the rampart, to fall away into the valley below - the second half whipped around the landing bay, a wrist snapping garrotte that slashed through the drifting smoke, slicing through anything that got in its path and snaked across the ground.

  The Priest leaped, moving fast in the long black leather coat. The two Assassins opened fire from their vantage point, bullets whining from Uzi mini sub-machine guns as the cable was drawn back to connect with the other pulley assembly - it tossed fifty-gallon drums aside as the thick steel cable was heaved upwards, tearing through everything that stood in its way; it struck a stack of fire charred cargo crates with deafening booms, and then with a final swish and a final thwackas it struck the roof of the landing area and its momentum expired...

  Off balance, the two Assassins leaped to be free of the danger. Alix’s MP5 cut them both in half.

  Finally everything became settled into stillness; through the drifting smoke and out across the mountain range, the rain was still falling heavily, and Alix still crouched as if to spring, uncoiled and nodded towards the Priest. They both moved warily towards the entrance to the facility, and gazed back at the destruction - the snapped, blackened cable, the fifty-gallon drums split open like sardine cans, the bodies of the dead guards and Assassins, and the flaming remains of the Bell Robinson six-man helicopter.

  “Nice and quietly, does it then!” Alix said, rolling up his balaclava. He wiped a sheen of sweat from his face, and lit up a cigarette.

  “It might have gone smoother, I’ll grant you. But God moves in mysterious ways, my son.” Acknowledged the Priest slowly.

  “Wait, listen up. Do you hear what I hear?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d know that voice anywhere.”

  “Jake Dillon!” They both said it at the same time.

  “Maybe God was smiling down on us after all. Perhaps he’s found Kirill?”

  “We’d better go in carefully, just in case there are any more of those nasty little buggers in there with him.”

  “Quite so,” said the Priest with pious sobriety, and moved forward towards the entrance of Kirill’s facility.

  Alix took one long last pull on his cigarette, and then flicked the stub high into the air.

  “Okay then, Kirill. Let’s see what secrets you’re hiding in there,” he muttered, calming his fluttering heart. He followed the Priest and both men were soon concealed on either side of the open doorway, hidden by grey granite walls of mountain rock.

  * * * Claudia Dax paused; stared around guiltily, like a child caught stealing a toy, sweat pouring down her forehead as she moved closer to the large wall panel.

  Her flattened palm pressed against the cold black glass of the bio-metric reader. She held her breath.

  The panel slid open; a soft-touch keypad was exposed - she keyed in a complex series of digits.

  Then the inner sanctum opened, to reveal the core processor, the nucleus of the mountain facility. The core processor that not only controlled the facility’s environment but also, because she had been the one who had hidden it there, it held the final codes to complete the Chimera Programme which could allow it to operate at 100%! Kirill’s very own core processor hel
d the key to Chimera...

  …and Claudia was the only one who knew that the key had been under his nose all this time!

  She tapped in a few digits; there was a hiss, a disk slid into place and within ten seconds it was done. She pulled free the tiny silver optical disk and stared thoughtfully at its mirror-like surface.

  To hold the most damaging data in the world in your hands, she thought: every scrap of information about the Chimera Programme. How it worked - its entire design - its heart...

  The blueprints for Chimera’s soul.

  She smiled nastily to herself. Fuck you, you murderers, she thought; I have something you not only want, but you need! The final scripts had been there all the time, you just didn’t know where to look, and now I have the data I need to create a Chimera that will operate at one-hundred percent.

  And what’s more, I can now build as many Chimera Programmes as I like...

  Claudia thought back to all the blueprints, the designs. Chimera was a programme that, once loaded onto even the most basic PC, could launch itself onto the world-wide-web and leech data, constantly self learning, and taking whatever it wanted, when it wanted. Carry Chimera loaded onto a WiFi enabled laptop into any public building; within five seconds it would, without alerting even the most sophisticated spyware, have entered the network and taken control of every machine within the building. At twenty seconds it would have replicated a billion times across the globe, taking control of satellite links, weapons systems, government mainframes, and the world’s stock markets. In effect, whoever launches a Chimera running at one-hundred percent - has total control!

  It was a malicious parasite.

  It could go anywhere, control anything.

  It would make whoever controlled the source of the programme, the most powerful person on Earth.

  Chimera undeniably worked at its optimum in amongst the most sophisticated of processors and programs. Designed to learn and adapt with stealth at lightning speed, and without leaving a spec of evidence that it had ever been on the host hard drive. Chimera was one of a kind. The most advanced mal-ware programme on the planet - and Claudia Dax had not only created it, but she now had the completed programme in the palm of her hand...

  Claudia Dax reached forward, and then stopped. She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see an Assassin with the muzzle of its Uzi pointing at her.

  But she was alone.

  Claudia had found a black satchel type bag; she dropped the disk into a zipped pocket inside and turned... Only then did she see the red flashing LED light on the side of the black box like device attached to the side of one of the main server units.

  As she stared at the device, the red flashing light changed, to amber...

  Her mind worked quickly; the Assassins had all left, and those left behind, had been systematically killing those members of staff deemed ‘expendable’, apparently this barbarism was being overseen by Kirill himself, her boss. A flashing light on a device. This had to be a bomb. Had to be. It wasn’t unreasonable of her to assume that they wanted to totally destroy the facility. Claudia had a gold-plated security clearance. She had access to most of the information that flew around the facility; and she knew, knew that Chimera was developed to be one of a kind - in total control...

  Claudia took a deep breath.

  Shit, she thought.

  She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, turned, and then sprinted across the lab. Her footsteps light on the tiled floor; she bypassed several security doors and returned to the corridor and the ventilation shaft.

  She hauled herself up into its confines.

  And it was then that she heard the gunshots.

  Claudia crawled as fast as the restricted space would allow. The shots continued to echo through the ventilation system and she wondered just what the hell was going on. She went through the shafts faster than she thought possible, knees and elbows sore from friction against the aluminium walls, sweat soaking her clothing. Finally, she reached the spot and, spinning around on her bottom, kicked free the vent grille.

  She dropped down into one of the reception level female rest rooms that she used as part of her route during her frequent midnight jaunts outside. She moved to the entrance, looking cautiously around the doorframe, ever fearful that she might be spotted by a guard or worse, an Assassin. She ran, keeping low, her breathing heavy with fatigue, past conference rooms and security offices. She passed one of the facility’s many guard stations, huge banks of monitors stood looking out at her, blank and lifeless. And even now, she felt their accusatory gazes against her sweat drenched face as she went by.

  She reached the emergency exit. The solid round metal doorway looked as if it were stuck fast. She pulled out her security pass card, swiped it through the reader, there was a hiss and the door released outwardly... And she stepped out onto the mountain-side.

  The strong cold northerly breeze hit her with its full force, sleet and rain washed across her body.

  The cold sweat running down her back made her shiver involuntarily.

  Claudia ran, fuelled by fear, fuelled by the guilt of her theft, pushed on by the concept of a bomb not that far from her. She left deep footprints in the snow; indelible, as in fast drying concrete.

  Reaching the corner of the gangway, some primeval part of her soul forced her to halt, to peer around the reinforced concretecolumn. She saw the winch-house. She crept, as low as possible; peering inside, and then around the general area. Looking down, her gaze went instantly to the bloodied twisted corpses of the dead guards, not more than two feet away from where she was now standing. She gagged at the sight of so much blood, raising her hand up to her mouth to stop herself from throwing up. Glancing quickly around, she moved to the entrance and opened the door.

  She went inside.

  Closed the door gently.

  In the gloom of the interior, she could make out the large wicker basket hanging over the trap-door that would take her away from the danger to the safety of the valley far below.

  Claudia pushed the start button, and then climbed into the basket as the winch motor cut in and the two wooden trap doors started to open. Then, as if for the sole purpose of reassuring herself, she said aloud, “Please God, don’t let anyone with a machine pistol in their hand, look through that trap-door now...”

  * * * “...She really is one of us, Mr Dillon. Tatiana has always been on our side.”

  Several things all happened at once.

  Outside, the noise of the winch motor cutting in could be heard; and then the cable running out as the basket was being lowered.

  Dillon turned back to Kirill and saw the look of shock on his face.

  The crackof the Glock 9mm echoed across the reception area. The Assassin crumpled to the ground, relieving Dillon’s head from the pressure of the gun’s barrel.

  Dillon’s eyes flicked around the immediate area. He looked up and around. Into Tatiana’s tired eyes.

  “That was close. Felt the heat off that one.” He said softly.

  “If she had wanted to kill you, Mr Dillon. You would now be dead.” Said Kirill, his voice was low and a little shaky. “When I said that Tatiana was one of us, what I should have said is that she is one of them.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” said Tatiana, her stare fixed on Dillon.

  “Damn it, Dillon. I’ve just saved your life.”

  Dillon turned fully towards her. “So who are you going to kill now? Me or him? Tats - your gun is still pointing at me...”

  “Drop your weapon, Tatiana.”

  They both turned. The Assassin had tossed Kirill a Black Beretta pistol that nestled evilly in the Professor’s hand.

  The Priest squeezed the trigger and the crackreverberated around the reception area. He was standing in the ideal position by the entrance to have a clear shot. The Assassin dropped to the ground, the side of its head obliterated. The second crackfollowed immediately, the bullet grazing the side of the Beretta’s grip in Kirill’
s hand with bone shaking ferocity.

  At the same time, Tatiana kicked the Glock across the floor.

  The Priest and Alix stepped over the bodies of the other dead Assassins towards Dillon.

  “Took your time, didn’t you?”

  “We made it didn’t we?”

  “And, lady and gentlemen. In just under two minutes you’re all going to have to say your goodbyes to each other. Truly, a suitably fitting end to this act! So perfectly written! So beautifully performed!”

  Dillon’s alter persona stirred deep within his subconscious.

  Kirill checked his watch and smiled. Dillon looked sideways at Tatiana whose face was unreadable; he swallowed as time seemed to slow, turn to infinity and he felt the familiar heightening of awareness at the back of his mind; waiting, watching, timing, listening and then, surging forward.

  * * *

  Dillon’s other self took control... He dropped to his knees and rolled - the Glock slipped like a glove into the palm of his hand.

  He rolled rapidly, he came up fast to see Kirill, the small black Beretta wavering, pointing in the wrong direction because Dillon had moved so fast and snapped the Glock up - Kirill just had time to register surprise and absolute fear as Dillon pulled the trigger hard and four bullets slammed into Kirill’s chest, ripping holes through his clothing, skin tissue and muscle, blood splattering like a crimson waterfall across the stone floor.

  Kirill’s head was slumped forward, sightless eyes staring down at his gaping chest. Very slowly, he toppled sideways onto the ground and lay still.

  “That was way overdue,” said Dillon quietly, his voice laced with satisfaction. He rounded on Tatiana, the Glock trained on her face.

  “You make one false move and I will kill you. You say the wrong thing, you will die, Tatiana. Do I make myself clear?”

  Tatiana nodded solemnly.

  Then let’s get the hell off this mountain top before we’re all fried. Tatiana, the Priest, and Alix all moved towards the main entrance at a run.