2041 Sanctuary (Dark Descent)

by Robert Storey

  ‘Or herself,’ he said.

  ‘You think Bic could be a woman?’

  ‘Nein, but I’ve been wrong before.’

  ‘He’s definitely a man, only a man could annoy me as much as he does.’

  ‘Oi, that’s sexist.’

  ‘But true.’ She grinned and turned on the speech function. ‘Bic are you there?’

  The cursor flashed in the communication window.

  I am _

  ‘So, what is it you’ve got to show me – us?’

  There is something I haven’t told you Jessica Klein _

  ‘That figures.’

  ‘Don’t anger him,’ Eric said, ‘he’s helped us this far.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Jessica knew full well what Bic had and hadn’t done, and that not all of it was as selfless as Eric believed.

  A recent series of events has come to my attention. Observe _

  The screen dissolved into news footage with accompanying audio from the United States. Jessica watched as a red pick-up truck careered down a multi-lane motorway. Her eyes widened when the occupant proceeded to shoot down what looked like an FBI helicopter and then exploded a number of police cars. The horrific carnage continued for some time, at points, turning into a pitched battle between a man wearing a type of translucent armour and the police and FBI that pursued him.

  Eric’s eyes grew wider as the destruction went on and on. ‘Ach mein Gott. Dieser Mann ist verrückt.’

  ‘Insane isn’t the word,’ Jessica said, the film finally petering out after the one man army activated a strange energy weapon, knocking out the camera that filmed him. Bic’s message window reappeared.

  What do you think? _

  Jessica shifted on the bed. ‘I’m not sure. It’s big news, of course, a terrible act of terrorism by some maniac wielding an arsenal of high-tech weapons—’

  What about you Eric? Did you notice anything? _

  Eric beamed, still clearly enthralled by speaking to his idol. ‘Hallo, Da Muss Ich. The reporter suggested the armoured man was getting help; someone overrode cameras and screens in the shopping mall to send him a message. A hacker, yes?’

  Very good, Eric, I will come to that; but there is something else which attracted my attention. When the news channel switched to shooting the event from a drone they were able to get a closer look at the terrorist. There was a symbol on his upper arm which you may have missed _

  A static snapshot materialised on the touchscreen device, an image from the TV broadcast they’d just seen. One of the panels making up the man’s green and brown armour bore a black emblem on a white background. The image distorted as Bic manipulated and enhanced it with software to produce a flat, front-on composition.

  What do you think now? _

  Jessica leaned forward. ‘Oh, wow, that’s just like an emblem I saw back in the German facility.’

  ‘Only this one is a USSB not an EUSB,’ Eric said, in excitement.

  ‘USSB Steadfast,’ she said. ‘Well, that confirms the Americans have the same sort of subterranean bases, doesn’t it?’

  ‘United States Subterranean Base, das ist cool!’

  Jessica frowned at her young friend’s continued exuberance. She knew this was far from cool; it just confirmed what they’d already guessed; the threat from the asteroid AG5’s fallout was far worse than the general populace had been led to believe. If the Americans had bases, too, the issue was confirmed as a global threat, something she’d been hoping beyond hope might not be the case. Another message from Bic appeared with an accompanying bleep.

  I attained this footage and more during its live release, fearing the GMRC would quickly suppress it. Amazingly, such was the scale of the incident that some of the footage is still circulating in the national press of the United States; although this particular shot has since disappeared without trace. It is another chink in the previously invincible media blackout created and maintained by the Global Meteor Response Council.

  This information in itself is revealing but it remains in dispute if the man inside the armour is from this USSB Steadfast. He may have come into possession of it by means entirely less clandestine than is first apparent. What makes this event far more valuable to our cause is what Eric alluded to before, the person pulling strings behind the scenes; the hacker who tapped into the shopping mall’s security grid.

  During the time of the terrorist attack I was already aware of a different type of assault simultaneously being perpetrated against the FBI mainframe; a hack of daring and skill I myself would have been proud to initiate. This individual, from the information I was able to glean from surrounding data streams, while extremely talented, did utilise a GMRC computer system during their digital incursion. To make use of a GMRC server in such a way indicates the hacker was very familiar with GMRC coding and password practices _

  ‘Couldn’t he have just hacked the GMRC at the same time?’ Jessica asked, the comment making Eric nearly choke on his drink.

  No. To break into the FBI system was a tremendous feat but to hack the GMRC at the same time would be an impossibility, such are the security measures they have installed.

  Since this hacker was of great interest to me I was pleasantly surprised when I saw the following broadcast _

  Jessica and Eric continued looking at the screen as another picture appeared. A photo of the armoured terrorist was situated on the left and to the right of this, an image of a man in his sixties. This unassuming person, looking more like a doctor or teacher than a terrorist, had a brown beard shot through with grey, a pair of glasses and a set of red coveralls. Beneath these photographs a caption read:

  FBI MOST WANTED

  TERRORISTS

  $50,000,000

  FIFTY MILLION DOLLAR

  REWARD

  Eric looked dubious. ‘That’s the hacker?’

  Yes. Do you recognise him Jessica Klein? _

  Jessica looked at the picture again, seeing if she could place the face. ‘No, should I?’

  It was unlikely you would remember seeing him. But you will have done, as will most of the world’s older population albeit from a distance and hidden amongst a crowd. Here is another photo, taken twenty years ago at one of the earliest declared GMRC summit meetings _

  Bic spooled up a new image showing a large group of assorted men and women in suits, all standing in rows and facing front as their collective photo was taken; on the wall behind these people was the GMRC logo. The image zoomed in to the right of the back row and a man with dark brown hair and a pair of glasses. He was, without doubt, the person displayed in the FBI’s most wanted poster, just younger and less careworn.

  ‘Who is he?’ Jessica said.

  Bic didn’t reply, instead switching to yet another official GMRC photo of a similar configuration, rows of men and women, and at the back, this time on the left, the same man.

  This scene repeats itself over and over in many other images throughout the years. Some of these photographs I acquired when I managed to break into one of the GMRC’s systems a few years back. They prove, beyond doubt, this man is a member of the elite and highly influential GMRC Directorate _

  ‘What—? You can’t be serious!’ Jessica reeled at the implication. ‘Why would someone in such rarefied air become involved in a terrorist attack in L.A.? It makes no sense.’

  Why indeed _

  ‘Maybe he’s rebelling,’ Eric said, ‘there must be some people inside the council who think some of the things they’re doing is wrong.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Jessica replied, ‘but to go out and aid someone in mass murder? I don’t think so.’

  Whoever he is and whatever his reasons this man and his companion are extremely important to the GMRC. From what I’ve been able to glean from LAPD radio chatter a GMRC delegation was sent to take custody of them only to be rebuffed by the FBI.

  Jessica was surprised. ‘I didn’t think anyone could rebuff the GMRC.’

  Not many can. There are only a handful of organisations on the pla
net with enough clout and backbone to defy them and the FBI is one of them _

  ‘How long do you think the Bureau can hold out?’ Jessica asked. ‘If the GMRC want them, surely it’s only a matter of time until they get their way?’

  I’m unsure. That is why we must move quickly _

  ‘Move quickly?’

  Yes. This is an unprecedented opportunity to get access to a man from the very highest echelons of power. He is the one weak link in a very strong chain. A man who has the secrets I need _

  ‘We need,’ Jessica said.

  Yes _

  ‘One question,’ she said, ‘how do you propose we get access to a man most likely guarded by more agents and police than we could shake a stick at?’

  I have a plan _

  Jessica’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘That involves what exactly?’

  The message window disappeared to be replaced by the live image of a dark-haired man; Jessica jerked back in surprise and Eric swore.

  ‘Trust me, Jessica Klein,’ Bic said with a sly wink, ‘trust me.’

  Chapter Forty Five

  Deep below the surface of the earth, thousands of feet beneath the Sierra Madre Oriental mountain range in Mexico, lay USSB Sanctuary; the jewel in the crown of the USA’s highly classified subterranean programme. Within this mighty man made marvel was a facility within a facility; the SED, Sanctuary’s Exploration Division, a civilian-run outfit overseen and utilised at will by the U.S. military.

  At night the SED Command Centre became quiet, inactive, standing by to continue its duties at morning light. Tonight, however, events were already unfolding to ensure this fragile serenity would be ripped asunder.

  Riley Orton, leader of the elite Deep Reach Team, Alpha Six, lay on his stomach secretly watching those in the shuttle bay below. He’d been tasked by his commanding officer, Dresden Locke, to keep tabs on the military, who had seen fit to stage an off-the-books retrieval from Sanctuary Proper outside the USSB. Behind this dubious undertaking was one General Stevens, a man known to consider the safety of others to be an inconvenience compared to acquiring newly discovered Anakim technology. Whatever the General was bringing into the SED, Locke wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything that would put his civilian teams at risk and Riley was there to make sure everything was documented.

  With the cameras from his Deep Reach helmet recording everything he saw, Riley zoomed in on the massive stone monument in which General Stevens and his men had invested a lot of time, effort and resources to transport back to base. Comparing it to the modified air-shuttle they’d used to move it, the ancient Anakim monolith must have been touching fifty feet high, twenty feet wide and the same in depth. He thought back to his unauthorised excursion with Sarah into the nine hundred thousand year old structure, where he’d seen a team of scientists working on something in the ground that emitted a strange energy reading. He knew for certain this giant object was what they’d been analysing that day, before it had been extracted from the ground and hoisted through a hole cut into the building’s roof. I never would have guessed it would have been so big though, he thought.

  Riley bunched his right hand into a fist, frustrated at the injustice of such an important discovery being kept hidden from those that would most appreciate its value. He knew the military would take it apart piece by piece in order to find out its secrets, the total opposite approach that the SED’s renowned archaeologists would employ.

  A crane lowered the mysterious artefact onto an articulated lorry, the soldiers and military scientists working in unison like worker ants to ensure its transition was smooth and without incident. Riley took some detailed stills of a curious glass enclosure embedded into one side of the multi-sided object. It looked to contain some type of fluid, the truck, as it moved off, disturbing the contents within. As he pondered what this curious monstrosity might be, a bright flash of white light from the shuttle bay’s control centre caught his attention. Riley scanned the large glass windows with his visor. Someone crouched beneath one of the operator desks. What on earth? he thought. Has Locke sent someone else to spy for him? Surely not. Standing, still hidden on his lofty perch – a little used elevated crosswalk – Riley adjusted his visor further before his eyes widened in recognition. ‘Sarah? What the—?’

  Movement below told him he wasn’t the only one interested in this most unexpected of intruders, a Special Forces commando also looked up in her direction.

  Riley swore and started running.

  ♦

  Sarah Morgan burst through the doors of the control centre, flying through the air to collide with the soldier on the other side. As she struggled to rise a hand grabbed her ankle, pulling her back. Grappling with the man on the floor, Sarah realised she stood little chance of overpowering him. In seconds she was being hauled to her feet; the other soldier, who’d been chasing from behind, bursting through the doors to lend a hand to his colleague.

  ‘Nice work,’ the soldier said, before being knocked out cold by a sucker punch from—

  Riley?! she thought. What is he doing here and why does he have his helmet on? With no time to care, Sarah made use of the diversion by thrusting herself backwards, slamming her other would-be captor against a wall. The man grunted before Riley waded in with another crunching blow, the soldier’s grip on her falling away.

  Breathing heavily, Sarah stared at Riley, stunned by his sudden appearance. ‘What are you doing here?’

  He raised his visor. ‘I could ask you the same question.’

  ‘Man down,’ a voice said, ‘third floor—’

  Sarah looked down to see one of the soldiers on his radio. She kicked out, sending the communication device skidding across the floor. Riley bent down and delivered a short sharp blow to the soldier’s chin, sending him back to sleep.

  ‘Let’s move!’ Riley grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hallway.

  Running flat out, interconnecting passageways flashed past. An occasional shout from their pursuers made them dart in the opposite direction, hurtling through the maze of the SED complex as though their lives depended on it. Nearing the edges of the building, the transparent walls revealed to them that more soldiers cut off their escape ahead. Riley reacted by guiding them up flight after flight of noisy metallic stairs. Higher and higher they rose through the building, their superior fitness levels helping to keep their adversaries at bay.

  They burst out onto the vast roof of the building. Above and surrounding them was the large domed atrium in which the SED was housed. As stunning it was, draped in shadow and low level night-time illumination, there was no way out; they were trapped.

  ‘We’re bolloxed.’ Sarah looked around in despair. ‘They’ll have the whole place surrounded by now. Fuck! They’ll lock me up and chuck away the key this time. Three strikes – I’m out.’

  ‘Not yet, you’re not.’ Riley pulled her onwards towards the roof’s edge.

  Sarah nearly had a heart attack when he walked straight off the top. Rushing forwards, she saw him on a small platform below, looking up at her.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, before moving off down the side of the building along a narrow gangway.

  Following him down, she hurried to catch up. Used to climbing, heights didn’t overly bother her, but without any gear and in partial darkness she was well aware of the long drop to her right and the disturbing lack of any kind of handrail between her and oblivion. Far below, she could just make out the forms of soldiers ringing the periphery of the ground floor.

  Due to the curving nature of the SED’s exterior architecture, Sarah soon found herself walking around a bend and almost knocking Riley from the edge.

  ‘Careful,’ he said, giving her some more room.

  Sarah looked around. ‘What do we do now, just hide here and hope they don’t find us? If they don’t know who we are already.’

  Riley grimaced. ‘If only it was that easy. You saw what I saw down in the shuttle bay and General Stevens will search every square inch of this build
ing until he has us. He takes the word privacy very seriously. Thankfully those soldiers didn’t have time to get a good look at us and the internal cameras are down to preserve their clandestine operation, which means we got lucky.’ He peered over her shoulder. ‘I don’t suppose you have anything useful in that backpack?’

  Sarah’s thoughts went to the bag on her back and the ill-gotten gains contained within; the shaped charges, three waypoint beacons, two sets of Deep Reach uniforms and an air-shuttle manual. She shook her head.

  ‘Pity.’

  ‘So,’ she asked, ‘what’s the plan?’

  ‘That’s the plan.’ He pointed out into the shadows.

  Sarah followed the direction of his finger, out and away from the building. ‘Are you kidding me?! You’re insane.’

  ‘It’s either that or we’ll both be spending the rest of our lives in a military prison.’

  Sarah looked out across the expanse between them and the atrium wall. Built into the surface were tiny handholds, leading down on a diagonal. At the very top of the advanced climbing course a platform could be discerned, lit by a huddle of dim lights.

  ‘It’s too far,’ she said. ‘We’ll never make it from a standing jump. And we’ll be climbing without any gear – in the dark.’

  ‘It’s not totally dark and you know as well as me climbing is based on touch and feel more than vision. Trust me, I’ve climbed this course a dozen times, it’s not the hardest by any means.’