Dreadnought

by Mark Walden

  Otto said nothing for a moment, turning over in his head the multiple different scenarios that might unfold during a full-scale armed assault on Drake’s facility. ‘How do we get down there undetected?’ he asked after a few seconds.

  ‘Well,’ Nero said with a wry smile, ‘that’s where the Professor comes in.’

  ‘You know, I was afraid you were going to say that,’ Otto replied.

  Drake stood in the centre of the Dreadnought’s bridge as his technicians completed the final pre-flight checks on its new equipment. One of his men walked across the bridge towards him, tapping away on the tablet display that he held.

  ‘Final loadout is complete, sir,’ the man said, ‘and we expect to have completed new-systems testing within the next hour.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Drake said with a smile. ‘I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me.’ He walked out of the bridge and made his way down through the maze of corridors.

  Drake had to admit that it felt good to be back on board the giant aircraft. He had devoted several years of his life to its design and construction in the hopes that it would become a suitable flagship for Number One. He could still remember the pride he’d felt when he’d unveiled the Dreadnought to him and the rest of the ruling council. Just a few weeks later Number One was dead and Drake was faced with the agony of seeing Diabolus Darkdoom, a man he barely knew, take the Dreadnought as his new base of operations. It had been then that the Disciples had first approached him and explained their plan to destroy G.L.O.V.E. and replace it with a new organisation, a new organisation with Jason Drake as one of its most senior commanders. He’d needed little persuasion. Quite aside from the power that he would wield, it was the perfect opportunity to avenge Number One’s death and to eliminate those responsible for his assassination. Now they were only hours away from these plans coming to fruition and the whole world being at their mercy. It felt good.

  Drake walked out on to the gangway that led down from the Dreadnought and out of the hangar. He stopped halfway down and looked back at the vessel, noting with satisfaction the hatches in the underside of the hull where the new equipment had been installed. He continued down the ramp and made his way to his office. As he typed his password into his laptop three screens rose up from the desk in front of him and after a few seconds the disguised images of the other three Disciples appeared.

  ‘We’re nearly ready to launch,’ Drake said with a smile. ‘Everything is going according to plan.’

  ‘Darkdoom will cooperate?’ the woman on the left asked.

  ‘Yes, he has little choice,’ Drake replied. ‘Capturing his son was an unexpected bonus. We always feared that he might have been prepared to sacrifice the lives of the Dreadnought’s crew rather than do what we asked, but there was no way he was going to refuse when his son’s life was at stake.’

  ‘Has he been transferred to the Dreadnought yet?’ the man on the centre screen asked.

  ‘It should be happening as we speak,’ Drake replied. ‘His son will now be joining him, of course, to ensure his ongoing cooperation. What do you want me to do with the other prisoners?’

  ‘Execute them,’ the man on the right-hand screen replied coldly. ‘All of them.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ Drake asked. ‘They may yet be useful.’

  ‘Quite sure,’ the man replied. ‘Once the Dreadnought is airborne they are surplus to requirements. They might have been useful had we managed to capture Nero but now they’re just irritating loose ends. Dispose of them.’

  ‘As you wish,’ Drake said. ‘Furan wishes to keep Raven alive though. He believes he can turn her.’

  ‘He is playing with fire,’ the woman said angrily. ‘She is too dangerous to let her live.’

  ‘I’m afraid I have to agree,’ the man on the centre screen said. ‘It’s an unnecessary risk.’

  ‘I shall inform him of your decision,’ Drake replied. Furan would not be happy, but the other Disciples were right: they had enough to worry about now without any further complications.

  ‘Good. We’ll await word of the launch of the Dreadnought,’ the man on the right-hand screen said and the three displays went dark.

  Otto stood next to Wing at the edge of the Shroud’s open rear hatch as it raced across the desert at low altitude. The Professor had briefed them on the jump procedure using the new equipment and though Otto knew that he could rely on the old man’s technical skills he could not ignore the fact that it was still a couple of hundred metres to the desert floor. He tried to stop thinking about the drop and just concentrate on the glowing red jump light above the hatch. A few seconds later it turned green and Wing leapt without hesitation from the hatch with Otto just a moment or two behind him.

  Otto had performed a H.A.L.O. jump before, but this was quite different. In a High Altitude Low Opening parachute jump, you leapt from a plane at high altitude and opened your chute at the lowest possible altitude to lessen your chances of detection by anyone on the ground. What he and Wing were doing now was quite different and much more terrifying. This free fall lasted only a few seconds, barely giving their plummeting bodies time to reach terminal velocity. As the ground rushed up to meet Otto he couldn’t help but close his eyes; every instinct screamed at him that he was about to die.

  The sensors on his sophisticated suit detected that Otto was at the correct altitude to activate its systems. There was a high-pitched whine and then a massive, almost subsonic, thud as the pack on Otto’s back discharged. A huge concussive wave flew out from the suit, cancelling out Otto’s momentum and dropping him to the floor as if he’d fallen just a couple of metres. The Professor had called it a ‘localised velocity negation field’ and had explained that it was derived from the same principles as the Sleeper guns that the security guards at H.I.V.E. were all issued with. All Otto really cared about at that precise moment was the fact that he wasn’t a red stain in the dust of the desert floor. It had still been a jarring thud as he hit the ground on all fours, but not the bone-shattering impact it should have been. Wing landed on his feet with an agility that made it look like he’d done this a thousand times before.

  ‘Interesting,’ Wing said, walking over to Otto and offering him his hand.

  ‘I kinda prefer skydiving with a parachute,’ Otto said with a grin as Wing pulled him up. ‘Call me a traditionalist.’

  Otto wiped off the thin layer of dust that had already accumulated on the visor of his tactical helmet and looked around. There was nothing but sand and rocks as far as the eye could see. The only vegetation was occasional patches of dry brown scrub. It was as featureless and unwelcoming an environment as one could imagine.

  Otto pulled the Blackbox PDA from one of the pouches on the front of his suit and checked the display. They were about a kilometre away from the target coordinates for the locations of the fusion cores, and the background radiation level, as it was throughout most of the test site, was unpleasantly high. That was hardly surprising considering the fact that there’d been over a hundred above-ground nuclear detonations in the area over the course of its history. Their suits offered some protection, so it probably wouldn’t cause any serious long-term side effects, but they needed to get inside quickly. It was already late afternoon and it would be getting dark soon, which would make the task of finding the base even more difficult, if not impossible. Otto pointed in the direction of the suspected location of Drake’s base.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said, ‘before we get more than just a sun tan. Engaging active camouflage.’ Otto tapped at the control panel on the wrist of his own suit. The grey and black surface of the suit instantly transitioned to a dusty brown colour that matched the colour of the desert around them. It was not the full invisibility that one of G.L.O.V.E.’s thermoptic camo suits would have offered them – the power requirements of the jump pack were too great for that – but it was the next best thing.

  They set off walking through a low valley, the rocks that lined its sides carved into strange shapes, sculpted by the wind an
d sand. There was no sound out here, and their crunching footsteps were worryingly loud, echoing back and forth off the valley walls. Otto knew it was extremely unlikely that Drake’s personnel would access the facility by land – they would be too obvious and easy to track. Far more likely instead that they were brought in by air, but if that was the case then there had to be some kind of landing area with surface access. The only problem was actually finding it.

  They were now within a few hundred metres of the calculated location of the hidden facility and Otto looked around for any sign of their target. The only notable feature nearby was an enormous rocky outcropping at the top of a steep boulder-strewn slope. The area beneath it was concealed by shadow that seemed just a little too dark. Otto gestured to Wing and crouched down behind a nearby rock.

  ‘Up there,’ Otto said, pointing to the black hole beneath the outcropping. ‘That look a little odd to you?’

  ‘Yes, but it could just be a cave,’ Wing said, examining the distant feature.

  ‘Fancy taking a climb up there for a closer look?’ Otto asked.

  ‘Not really,’ Wing replied, ‘but I suspect that will make little difference.’

  The pair of them crept out from behind the rock and started to scale the loose rocky surface of the slope leading up to the cave entrance. They climbed slowly and carefully, keeping the noise of their ascent to a minimum, and were halfway to the top of the slope when a figure appeared, stepping out of the darkened opening. He was wearing a white radiation protection suit and a gas mask and there was an assault rifle slung over his shoulder. Otto and Wing froze, hoping that their camouflage was good enough. The man at the cave mouth pulled off his mask and pulled down the zip on the front of his suit, reaching inside to retrieve a packet of cigarettes. Apparently the risks of environmental radiation poisoning weren’t enough to keep this man from indulging his habit. Otto and Wing remained motionless for several long minutes as the guard finished his cigarette and put his mask back on before wandering back into the gloom of the cave mouth.

  ‘I believe we’ve found our way in,’ Wing said quietly. ‘Should we signal Nero?’

  ‘No,’ Otto said firmly, ‘not yet.’

  ‘Why not?’ Wing asked, sounding slightly puzzled.

  ‘Because I don’t care how good Francisco’s men are, if they mount a full armed assault on this place before we’ve freed the others, there’s going to be a bloodbath and I’m not prepared to chance Nigel, Franz and the girls being caught in the crossfire,’ Otto explained. ‘We go in first, find and free the others and confirm that the Dreadnought is here. Then we call the cavalry.’

  ‘We will be disobeying Doctor Nero’s direct orders,’ Wing observed.

  ‘True,’ Otto replied, ‘but he did say he was asking rather than ordering . . .’

  Otto continued to climb slowly and silently up the steep rock face. As he drew nearer to the mouth he could make out more details of the entrance and the white shape of the guard in the radiation suit, sitting on a boulder just inside the cave with his back to them. He didn’t look like he was too concerned about the possibility of intruders and, in fairness, out here, who could blame him? Behind the guard, Otto could see a concrete landing strip leading further back into the depths of the cave. The entrance had been widened and reinforced, making it just big enough to accommodate a Shroud or a similar aircraft. This was clearly how Drake got supplies and personnel in and out, but it was obviously far too small for the Dreadnought, which meant there had to be another landing area somewhere nearby.

  Otto signalled to Wing, pointing at the guard and then drawing his finger across his throat. Wing nodded and carefully moved up behind the guard in complete silence. Wing tapped him on the shoulder and the guard spun around, startled. Wing ripped the gas mask off the guard’s head and then pulled the white hood of the radiation suit down over his face and delivered a solid right hook to the disorientated man’s chin. The guard’s legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed to the floor. Wing hooked his hands under the unconscious man’s armpits and quickly dragged him out of sight behind a nearby rock. Otto crept forwards and looked further into the cave. The landing strip ended at a set of heavy steel doors and, off to one side, another smaller door with a camera mounted on the wall above it. Otto ducked back behind the rocks where Wing was laying out the unconscious guard.

  ‘Get that radiation suit off him,’ Otto whispered.

  Laura lay on the hard concrete block that passed for one of the beds in her cell. Lucy sat on the end of another bed while Shelby prowled back and forth across the cell near the door.

  ‘So are they going to leave us here to rot or what?’ Shelby said angrily.

  ‘You’re going to wear a groove in the floor at this rate,’ Laura sighed.

  ‘We can’t just sit here and wait while they decide what they’re going to do with us,’ Shelby said. ‘We’ve got to do something.’

  ‘Like what exactly?’ Laura asked.

  ‘I dunno – dig a tunnel, take a guard hostage, something . . . anything!’ Shelby snapped. She stopped pacing, took a deep breath and then sat down on the bed next to Lucy with a sigh. ‘Sorry, don’t mean to yell, I just can’t stand being locked up like this.’

  ‘If it’s any consolation, I’m sure it’s getting to all of us,’ Lucy said, sounding tired.

  Suddenly they heard the sound of the locks on their cell door disengaging. The door swung open and one of Drake’s soldiers walked into the room.

  ‘All of you, up against the wall.’ He gestured with the muzzle of his rifle towards the wall at the far end.

  Laura and Lucy got up and moved slowly towards the back of the cell. Shelby stood still, staring back at the guard.

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ the guard said, levelling the rifle at her head.

  Just for a second Shelby seemed to be weighing up her chances but then she walked over and stood in silence with Laura and Lucy. The guard pointed his gun at the three of them.

  ‘Mr Drake says goodbye,’ the guard said with an evil sneer and began to squeeze the trigger. Laura tensed, inhaling sharply in fear as she realised what was about to happen.

  ‘Stop!’ Lucy hissed, her voice suddenly layered with what sounded like dozens of other whispered voices.

  The guard froze, a look of astonishment on his face as his entire body suddenly refused to obey his unconscious instructions. Shelby and Laura looked at each other and then at the pale, slightly shocked face of Lucy. It had only been a single word but the sound was unmistakable.

  ‘Give me the gun,’ Lucy hissed again, holding out her hand as the guard passed her the rifle. Lucy gave it to Shelby who swung the butt into the side of the frozen guard’s head, knocking him out cold as Lucy sat down heavily on the concrete bed, trembling.

  ‘I suppose this is where I have to admit that I haven’t been entirely honest with you,’ she said quietly, her voice shaky. ‘My name isn’t really Lucy Dexter. I am Viscontessa Lucia Sinistre. My grandmother was Contessa Maria Sinistre. Perhaps I have a little explaining to do.’

  .

  Chapter Nine

  ‘You can say that again,’ Shelby said, staring in amazement at Lucy.

  ‘I know. I’m sorry I lied to you all. My family history is not something I’m particularly proud of,’ Lucy said with a sigh. ‘I always promised myself that I would never do what I’ve just done. It goes against everything my mother ever taught me.’

  ‘Your mother being the Contessa’s daughter, right?’ Laura asked, struggling to make sense of what she’d just seen.

  ‘Yes, but she was the first woman in my family who didn’t want to follow in her ancestors’ footsteps. The women of the Sinistre family have always had this gift, if that’s what you can call it, and they have always used it for their own selfish purposes. My grandmother was no exception, as you well know,’ Lucy said sadly. ‘Only at the end did she do anything noble and even then it cost her her life.’

  ‘You know about that?’ Laura asked. The Contess
a had sacrificed her life to save everyone at H.I.V.E. from the murderous forces of Number One, but it was not exactly common knowledge outside the school.

  ‘Doctor Nero himself told me what she did,’ Lucy replied. ‘I wouldn’t have thought her capable of that kind of sacrifice, but perhaps I didn’t know her as well as I thought. After she died, I had no one left to turn to. I spent my early life in England living with my mother, but she died several years ago and my grandmother became my legal guardian. I rarely saw her. I was kept a virtual prisoner at our family home in Italy, surrounded by my grandmother’s men and educated by private tutors. It was only when my grandmother died and Doctor Nero came to me and offered me a place at H.I.V.E. that I saw a chance to escape. Perhaps it is not what my mother would have wanted for me but it is a safer place for me to be now that I have the voice.’

  ‘How long have you been able to do that?’ Laura gestured at the guard lying on the floor.

  ‘For a year or so,’ Lucy replied quietly. ‘I had hoped that the ability might have skipped a generation, but . . .’ She tailed off.

  ‘You have it too,’ Laura said as Shelby took the cuffs from the unconscious guard’s belt and fastened his wrists behind his back.

  ‘Well, it just saved our lives,’ Shelby said, ‘so I’m not complaining.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Lucy said sadly. ‘It’s a curse. It has brought nothing but misery to my family. What do you think happens every time people discover what we can do? I’ll tell you. They manipulate us to gain the power of our abilities and I fear that ultimately my grandmother was no exception. That’s part of the reason I accepted Doctor Nero’s offer. I need somewhere I can learn to control this skill before it can destroy me too. Ridiculous as it may sound given our current position, I thought H.I.V.E. might be the only place that was safe for me.’

  ‘Speaking of which,’ Laura said, ‘now might be a good time –’