Still, she figured it deserved some investigation. Frankie then ran a search on the network and filtered through all the times when Clare was in the base. Remembering that Frankie had logged her onto a terminal a few days ago, she hunted through the logs of that terminal at that time with greater detail and noted that there was a log of something being uploaded to the system during her time on that workstation.
Things did not look good for Clare, Frankie thought. She ran a trace on the file upload, but whatever it was had covered its tracks pretty well. She really wasn’t sure what she was trying to find and figured it might take hours to fully trace it. She’d get Dion onto that.
By now, Clare would be well away from the building. The thought of which suddenly filled her with worry. On a hunch, Frankie accessed the network’s back end and the logs that it kept there. She noted that there was a section in the records that had been deleted, which no doubt included the log of the virus and its copies on the other terminals on the network being removed.
If Clare really had done this, might she have downloaded a copy of the virus before deleting it?
Had Clare freed Angela using some software to hack the doll through the buildings security network and gain her access to the lab?
Nothing she had proved anything conclusively. It was all circumstantial, but it was also very compelling.
Had Clare been compromised and where was she now?
2.22
‘I’ve taken Gibson and Cole; they were the only two I could find on short notice. We’re leaving now,’ Frankie said through the neural link she had opened with Director William. ‘We have Isaac’s car tracked. He’s in an industrial complex to the east, but he’s still moving,’ she said. ‘Gather the others and send reinforcements soon. I think this is going to get ugly.’
‘We’re right behind you. You think she has a copy of the virus?’
The flyer rose up through the hanger roof as Cole and Gibson pulled on their tactical gear next to her. Frankie was checking her own guns at the same time as she watched the city outside sweep past as they made their way east.
‘I don’t know, but that would be my guess,’ she said.
‘We need that virus, Frankie. It’s your top priority. Use whatever force you deem necessary.’ He said.
‘Copy that,’ she said.
‘Good luck,’ he said as the link clicked off.
Frankie opened up her link to the scanner in the flyer that was tracking Isaac’s car as it moved through the warehouses in the industrial complex and watched the icon move through the virtual roads.
‘That was some good detective work,’ Gibson said to Frankie.
‘I learnt from the best,’ she said, smiling at him.
‘Don’t be modest. You’ll have me replaced before too long,’ he said.
‘Never, you’re irreplaceable,’ she said.
‘If you say so,’ he answered her with a smile.
‘We’re a minute out,’ the doll said.
‘Copy that,’ Frankie answered and noticed that Isaac’s car had stopped on her map.
‘Looks like we have our location,’ Frankie said.
‘Seems that way. Just a bunch of warehouses by the looks of things,’ Gibson said.
‘Take us in,’ Frankie said to the doll and rose from her seat, holding onto the rigging as she moved through the aircraft to the side door and slid it open.
She hung out through the door to try and see ahead. As the flyer dropped, it rounded another building and suddenly she could see the car. The side door opened as she watched and out stepped Clare, a gun in her hand pointed at whoever was inside, probably Isaac.
‘Target acquired,’ Frankie said through the link.
She saw Clare look up at the flyer, no doubt hearing its approach, and suddenly run for the nearby warehouse.
‘Shit, get us down there fast,’ she said to the doll pilot.
The flyer barely slowed as it dropped towards the roadway, until the very last moment when its engines roared, and it wobbled to a stop.
Frankie was already out, having jumped when she was close enough to the ground. She ran to the car and looked inside to see Isaac looking confused and in a state of shock.
‘What the hell’s going on?’ he said. ‘She was pointing a gun at me.’
‘She’s been compromised, probably blackmailed by the Corporations into working against us. Did she take anything in there with her?’
‘Yeah, her data pad. It was in my pocket for some reason,’ he said, looking even more confused.
‘Clever, she planted it on you. Probably when you hugged her in the lab after the explosion. It has the virus on it,’ she said.
‘What? She’s giving it to the Corporations?’ Isaac asked.
‘Probably,’ Frankie said, looking over at the warehouse. ‘Okay, we’re going in, you stay here,’ she said to Isaac.
‘If you think I’m going to wait here while you go in there after my wife you have another thing coming,’ he said and started to follow them as they jogged over to the warehouse, their guns ready as the flyer that brought them in rose up behind them.
‘Stay on station, we might need you,’ Frankie sent to the doll.
‘Will do,’ said the doll in return.
The warehouse before them was huge, at least three for four stories high with large double folding doors on the front and smaller regular sized doors to either side of it. One of them was still open where Clare had entered the building. Frankie reached it first with her two teammates on her heels and Isaac close behind.
She went in hard and fast, swinging her rifle back and forth as she twisted to check her corners and moved into the building. They were in a corridor that ran beside some disused offices and led out onto the main warehouse floor a short distance away to her right.
Frankie led the way, moving forward, her gun up and ready to be used.
Emerging from the tunnel, she found herself in a huge open disused warehouse. There were a few bits of rusted machinery here and there, as well as some graffiti where some kids had chosen to leave their mark, but, otherwise, it was just a vast empty space. Crouched in the middle of that space, lit by the dim light filtering through the skylights from the moon and some nearby neon signs, was the hulking angular shape of a battle mech. From what she could see, this thing would be about three or four times as tall as a man, when standing up, and was both armed and armoured as if it were in a war zone.
She could see two missile packs on its back, a huge machine gun attached to its right shoulder instead of an arm, and a sleek looking rail gun attached to its left. Clare stood in front of it, directly between Frankie and the mech, walking slowly up to the cockpit, her back to Frankie and her team. For a moment, Frankie thought she might be about to get into it.
But instead, she reached up and handed something small and black to the hidden mech pilot she stood in front of. Frankie guessed it would be the Data Pad with the virus on it.
‘Clare,’ Frankie shouted.
Clare jumped on hearing Frankie’s voice and turned slowly around on the spot.
‘Frankie, Isaac, my love, I’m sorry. I… I did this for us. I had to, they threatened our children. I had no choice. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ she pleaded.
‘It’s okay, my love, I forgive you,’ Isaac said.
‘Just move away from the mech, Clare. Come this way,’ Frankie said. ‘You got it in your sights?’ she sent to Gibson and Cole through their neural link.
‘We got it,’ Cole said.
‘I can’t get a clear shot at the pilot with Clare there, though,’ Gibson commented.
‘Who cares,’ Cole answered.
As Clare started to step away from the machine, the thing rose up into a standing position, revealing another weapon, a Minigun under the cockpit on a turret. The robot was huge and had a wicked looking mechanical tail that swung out from behind it, making the thing look like some kind of massive humanoid monster made of metal.
‘Oh, shit,’
Gibson muttered out loud suddenly.
‘What?’ Frankie asked, looking past Clare at the mech again and suddenly realising she recognised the pilot strapped inside of it. It was Camille, Gibson’s wife. She could see right away that she wasn’t controlling it, meaning it was being operated remotely. Psytech had obviously used her to both taunt them and to dissuade them from engaging the mech in combat. ‘Aaah, crap,’ Frankie said.
‘Is that?’ Cole asked.
‘My wife, yes, it is,’ Gibson said.
Frankie could see that Camille was in tears, clearly upset and on seeing Gibson, a look of both surprise and hope filled her face.
‘Richard, I’m sorry, I…’ she started to say, but the hatch on the cockpit levered shut, cutting her off mid-sentence.
‘Camille,’ Gibson shouted as the mech took a step forward, lifted its foot and kicked Clare in the back with a force that threw her forward, close to Frankie’s feet. Clare grunted and landed before them, hitting the floor and rolling like a rag doll to a stop where she groaned but remained still.
‘No, no, Clare. Oh, shit,’ Isaac yelled.
‘Cover me,’ Frankie said and ran forward, lifting Clare up and onto her shoulder in a fireman’s lift. This went against everything she knew about dealing with people with suspected back injuries, but if she left Clare here, the mech would likely kill her, anyway.
Frankie turned to leave, passing Gibson and Cole, who continued aiming their weapons at the mech.
‘Bravo. Congratulations, I have to say. That really was a well thought out plan,’ said a voice over the mech’s external comms. Frankie recognised Marissa Webb’s voice right away and glanced back at the huge machine as it moved to bring its weapons to bear. ‘It might actually have worked as well, but, alas, you’ll never know. Goodbye, and thanks for the entertainment,’ she said.
‘Run!’ Frankie shouted, grabbing Isaac by the arm and practically dragging him back into the tunnel they had entered through as the mech opened fire with all three of its main guns.
The warehouse and the concrete floor exploded behind them as they sprinted along the tunnel and out through the door. Bits of concrete flew through the air as the mech’s high powered weapons tore through the concrete and metal, ripping them to shreds. Frankie didn’t stop, she just ran straight to the waiting car and slid Clare in as quickly as she could, letting Isaac climb in after his wife.
‘Get her to a hospital. Go now,’ she said, banging on the roof to urge the driver to move.
The sound of gunfire was replaced by the brain scraping noise of tearing metal from the direction of the warehouse. Frankie ran for cover while chancing a glance over her shoulder in time to see the mech rip through the doors and walls of the building like they were paper.
‘Light it up,’ Frankie called through the neural link, and, switching her gun to fully auto, unloaded it at the mech.
Cole and Gibson followed suit, tracer rounds flaring as they arced through the night street and struck the mech, sparking and ricocheting off its formidable armour.
The mech paused and looked the scene over before pointing it’s huge fifty calibre machine gun at the group’s cover and unleashing a stream of metallic death at them. Frankie and her team ducked down as the mech’s gun ripped into the metal strut they hid behind, and watched as the car with Isaac and Clare accelerated away and out of harm’s way.
Well, at least they were safe, she thought as their cover shrunk by the second.
‘Split up, give it multiple targets and keep moving. It seems quite slow,’ she said. The mech stopped shooting, and they could hear it as it lumbered towards the street, its heavy footsteps booming as it moved.
‘Go, let’s do this,’ she said, and ran, ducking down beside a van a short distance up the street. Frankie skidded to a stop and pressed herself into the side of the vehicle as the mech reached the road. It looked one way, and then the other before turning towards Frankie.
‘Shit,’ Frankie hissed and leant out to get a shot at it. She fired again with a new magazine in her rifle, but only appeared to create a mini light show of sparks that did little to hurt the lumbering giant.
Streams of gunfire erupted from her two teammates as they lent Frankie a hand.
As the mech advanced upon her position, its Minigun opened fire, the bullets slamming into the van and making Frankie move and put the whole vehicle between her and the mech. There was an almighty boom as the rail gun fired again, putting an eight-inch hole right through the full length of the vehicle, turning it into swiss cheese. Frankie chanced a glance between sweeps of Minigun fire to see it launch a missile each at her two companions.
The mech fired again, putting hole after hole through the van until Frankie knew she had to move as there really wasn’t much of it left.
Spotting a steel container close by, she leapt to her feet and sprinted for it as fast as she could, the Minigun tore after her, its endless stream of bullets licking at her heels.
Ducking behind the container, the Minigun’s quick fire shots sounded like a drum roll on a kettle drum, only ear-shatteringly loud. Looking up, wondering what she could do, she spotted the flyer come sweeping into view over the buildings.
‘Pilot,’ Frankie barked through the neural link to the doll that was flying it, ‘Fire at the mech, now,’ she said as the mech’s rail gun started to put holes through the container as well while it continued its advance on Frankie’s position. The mech was very close when the flyer swooped down and unleashed it’s 20mm vulcan cannon on the walking tank.
The noise here was deafening as the powerful guns of the mech and the flyer roared around her. This thing was not messing about and wasn’t like the smaller, less formidable mech’s that she had taken on while she’d fought at the police station. This was a full on war machine.
The mech stopped shooting at the cover Frankie had hidden behind and adjusted its aim before it unleashed it’s firepower on the flyer instead.
It did it’s best to track the aircraft, but the flyer was too quick, and it completed its strafing run without suffering any damage.
Feeling like she had an opportunity to go on the offensive, Frankie leapt on top of the container to see the mech trying to track the aircraft. With its attention elsewhere, Frankie took two steps forward and vaulted onto the thing’s shoulders, making the jump easily, grabbing hold of the armour plating as she landed.
With one hand keeping a firm grip on the mech, Frankie aimed at what she hoped might be a weak joint and squeezed the trigger of her rifle.
After unleashing half a magazine at it, Frankie took at look but saw only scorch marks and some minor denting.
The mech twisted sharply, left then right, causing Frankie to grip on with both hands to avoid being thrown off. It had probably realised she was on top of it.
She heard a whipping of air close to her and looked back to see the thing’s articulated tail swing for her. She ducked and when it lashed out at her again, dodged sideways. It would hit her sooner or later, she thought, knowing she needed to get off it quickly.
The roar of engines close by caught her attention suddenly, and the attention of the mech as it turned towards the noise.
The A.C.T. flyer had dropped into the street just a short distance away, its cannon already spun up and ready to fire.
Frankie didn’t wait to be asked and leapt from the mech. The flyer opened up on it a second after she had jumped, creating a flare of glowing sparks that showered the street behind her. Frankie dropped and rolled to her feet and looked back at the mech as it twisted away from the powerful cannon, sacrificing its machine gun to use as cover.
Cole and Gibson were close by and advancing on it, shooting their own rifles at the mech. Spotting them, its Minigun swivelled and started to spin its distinctive barrel. The boys barely made cover as it peppered the area they were in with hundreds of bullets for several seconds.
Frankie heard one of the guys howl with pain suddenly.
‘What’s happened,’ she
bellowed over the neural link.
‘Cole caught a bullet, I think,’ Gibson answered her.
‘I’m fine, it’s just shrapnel in my leg,’ Cole growled through the link.
‘Copy that,’ Frankie said as she raised her own gun and fired the last few rounds in her current magazine at the mech, to no real effect. As her gun clicked down to empty, she saw another arc of tracer fire from the opposite direction along the street start to hammer the A.C.T. flyer.
The new aircraft banked into view, arcing around sideways to keep a bead on the A.C.T. flyer and continue unleashing fiery death at it. Frankie’s flyer pulled up, but as she watched, an explosion on the far rotor sent it careening towards her. Frankie dove for cover, tucking herself in behind a barrier and hoped she wouldn’t be crushed. The flyer hit the ground and veered left, missing her but hitting the barrier closest to Frankie’s feet where it rolled over and landed on its roof.
The remaining spinning rotor clattered against loose metal with a staccato beat and slowed to a stop. Frankie looked down at the wrecked flyer, feeling relieved to be alive for the moment.
‘Frankie!’ yelled Gibson from the opposite direction to the downed flyer.
Following the sound, she saw Gibson behind cover waving his arm at her, wanting her to come join him. She pulled herself to her feet and scrambled along the railing to the solid concrete block he hid behind.
Suddenly, a large explosion knocked Frankie to her knees as the high-octane aircraft fuel ignited. Looking back, she noted that her previous hiding place was now awash with flame.
‘Shit,’ she muttered.
‘Close call,’ Gibson commented, following her gaze. ‘Hey, look,’ he said, pointing in the direction of the mech.
Frankie looked and saw the flyer that had destroyed theirs hovering close to the mech as two black-clad operators lowered themselves down on lines from the aircraft before they moved over to the mech. As she watched, the flyer positioned itself over the mech while the two men started to attach the lines, which she now noticed had clamps on the end, to the mech.
Promethean Files 2: The Prometheus Gambit Page 24
