“Not any more. Oh and I cut the line to your friends at the box,” said Brock.
Her eyes widened as her fingers trembled round the knife handle.
“You found my weak point,” Brock continued. “Sarah. This flight you arranged … a ruse so you could snatch her. I cottoned on early enough. You thought that if you snatched her, I would crack and hand over the USB. Then you’d probably have arranged to kill us both.”
“And you’ve played it by the book? You have made a pig’s ear of it all. Murdering here and stealing a car there. The press is all over it now. She shook her head in disbelief and grabbed another knife with her spare hand.
“Cut the crap. I need information, and unless you want your head blown off, you’ll tell me exactly where my real my apartment is and what Sphere is,” said Brock.
She stared at him. “Your apartment is Ranstone Park, the number 26. Not that it will do you any good.”
By the time he jumped back into the car, Sarah was weeping.
“We heard the gunshot … you should pull the car out quickly before someone sees us. It’s late. Where are we going to sleep tonight?” Tears coursed down her face.
“Let’s drive around,” said Ty.
“We’ll be spotted,” said Sarah.
“Out of London, I mean, somewhere in the country, perhaps book into a proper hotel. Come on, Brock, do your magic, get us to some remote CCTV-free place.”
“No, I need to check out these files and get them out immediately. There was something about Lady Ranskill in the house … a look on her face. As though she was holding something back.”
“I’m desperate for a warm hotel. We can view the files in our room. Get us to a hotel,” Sarah begged.
“We need to get a laptop first,” said Brock.
Chapter 34
A street lamp reflected off the side of the Mustang as it sat in the silent Hampstead street. The harsh wind whistled through trees as though nature was signalling incoming danger. The engine whistled smoothly as Brock gazed towards the grocery store. A man stepped out into the curb and ambled across the road. Brock watched him disappear into a nearby side street. Moments later, he jumped as someone banged on the Mustang. The doors flung open and Ty jumped into the back, his brow covered in sweat. Sarah threw herself into the passenger seat, dropping two carrier bags of goodies at her feet.
“Get the car moving!” she shouted. “The man in the grocery store is coming for us.”
“Did you get a laptop?” said Brock, slamming hard on the accelerator.
Ty pulled it from under his arm, and Brock’s tired frown quickly turned into a smile.
“Serves him right, the miserable git,” said Ty.
Sarah slammed the two carrier bags onto the dusty restaurant worktop. Ty placed the laptop neatly on the reception desk. Brock hovered over Ty as he pressed buttons, and then pushed the USB drive into the slot. Sarah wandered through holding a mug of coffee, then pointed to the bottom corner of the screen.
“Did you nick the computer lead?” asked Brock.
Ty shook his head and Sarah grimaced. She pushed herself into a swivel chair and wheeled towards the computer, whizzing her fingers across the keys. A list of file appeared on the screen.
“There’s not much battery—where should we start?” she said.
“My mind is a blank as to what the hell this is all about. Try opening the first file,” said Brock.
She pushed the mouse towards a file, but stopped.
“Quick, we don’t have much time. What’s wrong?” said Brock.
“This file … it’s official secrets from security services. How someone managed to bring this out of the hub is a mystery to me.”
She clicked it open and a vast array of names of banks and other big institutions came into view.
“Our security services appear to be monitoring all these organisations. Pretty normal I guess, but there are thousands, even the NHS is on there. Seems a bit excessive.”
Brock shrugged.
“It looks like someone snatched the whole database of what appears to be system access codes, like back doors into company systems.”
“A hacker’s dream,” said Brock.
“Yes. It’s something you expect the security services to hold, but safely in their offices. Not in someone’s pocket.”
“But is this it?” said Brock.
“This is quite serious. In the wrong hands, this could cause chaos across our country. Someone could disrupt thousands of banks, hospital systems, force a complete shutdown. And you arranged to pass this drive to who?” said Sarah.
“To Lady Ranskill, I’m pretty sure,” said Brock.
“The same woman you’ve just put a bullet in. It’s only one file, but something’s amiss here.”
He pulled up a chair. “Open another file, the battery’s about to die.”
Sarah wheeled herself backwards, shaking her head.
“Do it before the battery conks.”
“It’s only one file, but this is some serious shit. I’m worried what else I might find,” said Sarah.
“Did you just swear, Sarah?” said Brock.
“Who the hell are you, Brock? I thought I was on the right side,” said Sarah.
“Of course you’re on the right side. I know I was supposed to pass it on to this Ranskill woman. Maybe she was genuine after all. Look at the effort I’ve made to expose this nonsense. Why would I want to harm anyone? I love my country.”
Ty leaned on the kitchen door. “Maybe I can suggest something. What if Sighrus stole all this to email over to the Kremlin? Pass it on to some Russian agent hiding in Britain at the very least, and Brock’s allies intercepted it,” said Ty.
“Or somehow Brock is part of the plan to pass it over to the Kremlin,” said Sarah.
“Sarah, please open the other files. It’s likely our whole infrastructure and banking systems may already be compromised. We have to work fast,” said Brock.
She snatched at the mouse and clicked another file. Brock stayed silent glaring hard into the computer screen.
“Something’s puzzling me,” said Ty. “Why put everything on one drive? Surely even Sighrus anticipated it getting into the wrong hands, especially with our amazing Brock around,” said Ty.
“Amazing,” scoffed Sarah.
“It’s only a copy,” Brock said. “Dalton pulled it from Sighrus’s computer, probably his personal laptop. But where an MI5 trainer like Sighrus acquired this kind of information is a mystery. I doubt Dalton realised how corrupt the Ranskill woman was. He assumed she’d pass it to her husband, exposing its contents to his friends in government. Of course, both would intend to destroy the drive and me with it. Being paid lots of money in the process,” said Brock.
“Your theory, I guess. Hang on, what’s this? I clicked on this small file … oh my lord, it lists detailed operations to disrupt Manchester and Birmingham. At the bottom, it mentions detonating devices.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Planned attacks to happen in the future. How could you, Brock?”
“Probably a decoy for something bigger,” said Brock.
She clicked on another file. “How would you know that?”
“If he was attacking big, there would be a mention of London. I’d like to know how he acquired these details, let alone copied them to a drive. Close that file and click on the nuclear file next to it.”
A bright flash and it opened like a bubble on the screen. It detailed to the bone nuclear weapon plants and military installations. As Sarah scrolled, diagrams and maps showed every little detail..
“I doubt this has come from MI5,” said Brock.
Something on the file caught Brock’s attention, and blood drained from his face.
“A deliberate man-made computer virus created by the Russians by the looks of it,” Sara
h said, reading. “And to be unleashed into our banking system, sending our country into chaos. You’re right … the two small planned attacks are just decoys.”
Ty threw a cigarette end onto the floor and immediately lit another one up. Sarah clicked into another file, but the screen turned black and the laptop’s lights flashed off.
“It’s worse,” Brock said, feeling sick. “The file mentioned nuclear weapons. I think the virus will be unleashed into our weapons arsenal.”
“You mean to set them off?” Sarah shrieked.
“More likely destabilise, rendering our fighting power temporarily useless.”
Brock rubbed both his hands across his face. Ty puffed on his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the air. “Leaving us open to blackmail,” he said. “Surely it would be better to target America. They hold far more firepower.”
“They probably have. We should act fast and expose this, but it may already be too late. It all makes sense now, why he went to the trouble of arranging that fancy apartment. It was probably bugged the whole time, and they were monitoring my every move. Being a soldier I should have realised the severity.”
Sarah glanced to the floor. “If he knows about this drive in your possession, surely he would act as soon as. Unless, of course, you made other plans with him.”
“The man’s an ass, Sarah. I know myself and you should trust me. Suggesting I’d willingly participate is ridiculous.”
She flushed red.
“I gave the Ranskill woman one of the drives,” said Brock.
Sarah jumped up. “You shot her! I heard the bang outside, she’s dead.”
“I just frightened her, she’s very much alive. What do you take me for? A cold-blooded killer.”
Sarah grabbed onto his neck. “You lied to me” she cried.
“At what point in the car did I say I shot her?” he asked, pulling her hand from his neck. She kicked him in the leg.
“Sarah, stop! You said yourself this virus will cause worldwide chaos. Moscow will pay this monster a hefty price and relocate him. Right now, he’s probably attempting to unleash it across our infrastructure.”
“Because of you!” shouted Sarah.
Her hand came towards his face and he grabbed it, holding onto it. Ty started.
“What’s up?” Brock asked.
“I think I saw something outside.”
“Probably a bird flying past. Look, Sarah, the Ranskill woman was facing bankruptcy. Must have been hard to keep up the payments on that expensive house she lives in. I assume she become involved with Sighrus for a payoff, you know, to avoid the shame. I threw her a USB to see what she does. I need you, Sarah, please.”
“Stop this arguing,” Ty snapped. “Someone is outside, we should make a move now.”
They both ignored him.
“I’ve got an idea,” said Sarah. “What about Meriden? If he saw those files…”
“He’s probably dead,” said Brock.
Sarah let out a moan.
Ty shouted again that they had to leave.
“Surely MI5 have clocked what’s going on by now?” Sarah asked weakly.
“They probably have. However, the Ranskill woman said he was too well connected. Unless he arouses their suspicions, they’d be clueless. He keeps a low profile, and with his expertise … let’s face it, he works for the security services.”
Brock lifted his head to the window just as it shattered.
Glass poured onto the floor like the tide coming in. Something smashed into Brock, knocking him to the ground. Dust fell from the ceiling like glitter; a moment later the lights went out and they were in darkness. Brock slid himself behind the reception desk, feeling for the gun. Two men jumped into the window, falling to the ground, and automatic gunfire sprayed the room. Ty loaded his gun and aimed it directly at them, firing. Silence erupted. Moments later, another round of gunfire and debris fell, hitting Brock in the face.
“Brock, I’m hitting them but they aren’t falling. What are these people, robots?” Ty screamed.
“Blank bullets. The bloody idiot Gunner didn’t mention that back at the range.”
“Doh,” said Ty.
Sarah scooted along to Brock, whispering in his ear. “Are you alright?”
Brock picked himself up from the floor and felt for a gun. He knew the bullets were useless, but as far as their attackers knew, they were real. All three crouched and hid behind the reception desk. The firing stopped and there was a moment of silence, then someone shouted over to them.
“Give yourselves up or we will kill you!”
“If we hand over these drives, they’ll kill us,” Brock muttered. “I’ve got an idea. Grab the drives. If I throw these chairs towards them it should give us enough time to move over to the corridor and out towards the car. Looks like there’s only two of them, Sighrus’s men, no doubt.”
Chapter 35
Brock sped fast through the leafy suburbs of Hampstead Heath; he was painfully aware the Mustang’s registration number was probably being broadcast to every police unit in London, if not the country.
“You said he’d be dead,” shouted Sarah.
“I can’t be sure, but an intelligent man like Meriden … surely he checked the files. Sighrus could be on to him, cut his internet off and seized his computer—and him. Popping over to his house is too risky. Anyway, I have a better idea.”
The Mustang rocketed down a tree-lined street, clipping the wing mirrors of stationary parked cars clustered either side of the narrow road. A sudden clanging in the engine tapped at the car like a steam locomotive. Brock shot Ty a glance in the rear-view mirror. “Now would be a good time to swap the car.”
Ty sat upright like a meercat and pointed through the window towards a red Nissan—it didn’t look roadworthy but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Brock pulled the Mustang into a space across the road, directly opposite.
Once Ty had done the needful, Brock sank back into the Nissan’s leather upholstery seat, sliding his hands across the smooth wheel. A whiff of leather squeezed out as he hit the accelerator. They cruised through the streets, eventually coming to a halt in a secluded lay-by far from Hampstead.
“It’s late,” he said. “I’m exhausted. We should get our heads down for a few hours. I doubt anyone will report this car missing yet.”
The bright morning sun shone through the meadow into the red Nissan, and straight into Brock’s eyes. He rubbed them, then pushed the car door open and stepped out into the lay-by. As he perched on the bonnet, Sarah stepped out joining him. Both remained silent.
“Last night, in the hotel,” Brock said eventually, “I let the Ranskill woman get the better of me. I almost believed her. I was too dog-tired to care, but I neglected the fact it’s us who need to act—and now. Sighrus made damn sure we’d be hopeless at passing these drives to anyone. How are we going to get these drives to anyone safely?”
“And I considered you might be trying to launch the virus first.”
He frowned. “Do you believe I’d do such a thing?”
She shrugged, stepping away. “If you get me access to the internet, I should like to email the files to some senior government officials, including the CIA. I’ll look up their addresses from their official websites. It’s that simple.”
“Why are we heading east?” Sarah asked, rubbing her eyes as she sat up.
Brock slammed on the brakes. “ Meriden’s house is probably crawling with cops.. I’d like to pop over to my apartment.”
“But it’s burnt to the ground. You said yourself we need to transfer those files across.”
“Do you reckon Meriden sent the files to someone?” said Ty.
“My real apartment is in Canary Wharf, I believe,” said Brock.
“Only if such an apartment exists. It’s probably been re-let. Or even worse, it’s being watched. St
op the car and give me the drive. I’ll make my own arrangements to email the damn files across, thank you,” snapped Sarah.
“We’ll get these files across to people, I promise. Why assume I rented it? And even if I did, the people in there probably have a computer connected to the internet. It might jog a few memories.”
“How many more memories do you need to jog?” she muttered.
Brock slowly drove the red Nissan forward into the car park. The oval-shaped glass apartment complex hung over them like a glistening cruise ship. Skyscrapers lit up the skyline, making it appear more like New York than little old London. Sarah glanced up in disbelief.
“You sure this is the right place?”
“This is well posh,” said Ty.
Brock shrugged and Sarah shot him a scowl, grabbing the drives and opening the car door. He recalled Ranstone Park at Meriden’s and Lady Ranskill had clarified it with the exact number. Now he would find out if she was telling him the truth.
“Looks like the door requires a key fob. I’d struggle to bypass this system,” said Ty.
Patiently, they waited closely near the glass entry door, Ty examining the entry system. Minutes passed and a smartly dressed woman meandered towards, them pulling out a black key fob from her small handbag and whacking it across the entry pad. She pushed the door and stepped inside. Brock shoved his fingers in the door, waited a moment, and then followed into a sparkling light-green marble corridor heading towards a shiny silver lift. The woman tapped the lift button and within seconds the shiny silver doors slid open. Quickly, they all scuttled towards the lift, joining her inside; she tapped in number five on the polished control panel and glanced over to Sarah.
“Floor three, please,” Brock said quickly.
She pressed the number into the lift’s control panel momentarily, and her eyes met his reflected in the shiny metal of the lift. The door slid quietly open and all three stepped out into the warm carpeted corridor, passing the many mahogany doors either side, waiting for the lift doors to close.
“She noticed me in the lift.”
“Do you think she recognised you?” asked Sarah, grabbing the drives tightly to her chest.
Brock Steele Sphere Page 22
