The main car park was full of support vehicles and a large mobile command unit stretching out across half of the tarmac. Linwood hurried to the command unit. Inside, she was taken aback by the space. It was deceptively large and carried a dozen personnel. Along one wall, a row of extra-large monitors, three of which stretched floor to ceiling. In front of those monitors, a row of fixed desks where Department 5 agents were focused on workstations and talking on phones.
Linwood was so absorbed in the activity that she didn't notice Jaq Petro sidle up beside her.
“Good to see you,” she said, pleasantly, the cool demeanour of a woman very much in charge of her environment. Her slim fitting powder blue jacket was expensive. The woman’s skin was smooth and wrinkle free, her hair pulled back tightly into a neat bun. Linwood tried not to think of her own appearance, not that it usually bothered her but it was difficult to not compare herself to someone as together as Jaq.
Linwood offered a hand and Jaq took it warmly. “No hard feelings about the other night? We were acting to secure the area as quickly as possible. We had no idea who your colleagues were, nor what risk they posed.”
“You did what I would have done.”
Jaq smiled. “My team are good but there’s still a lot they can learn from you.”
“How did you get here so quickly?” It had been on Linwood’s mind since the ‘arrest’ and hadn’t come up in her debriefing with the section heads.
“We were alerted to your activity around the Tombs in Southport late on Sunday evening. A team was being prepared to bring you in,” Jaq said.
Linwood frowned. She’d known Kingston had been holding something back. Was this just one of those things she wasn’t supposed to know about?
“I’m guessing you were in the dark about that. That’s so typical of Kingston. I’ll be having words, leaving it to me to break it to you.” She patted her arm and encouraged her to follow her back out of the command unit. Outside, it was quiet. The break from the conversations on the phones and the chatter of fingers hitting keyboards was welcome.
“You notice it?” Jaq said.
“Notice what?”
“The quiet.”
“I guess it can feel intense in there,” Linwood said, gesturing to the command unit.
“No,” Jaq replied, shaking her head. “Not that. I mean out here. Listen.”
Linwood’s face scrunched as she focused. There was nothing. The wind moving gently through the trees, leaves rustling.
“I’m not hearing anything.”
“It’s early morning. There’s no birdsong. We’re on the edge of several areas of woodland and the birds should be up now, foraging, or whatever it is that birds do.”
Linwood listened again. “But they’re not,” she intoned. “I don’t hear them.”
“The woodland is suspiciously quiet. I’ve sent a few agents out, surveying. They didn’t spot a single bird within a mile radius of the dish.”
“And is that normal? I mean, it’s to do with the telescope. It must be.”
“Absolutely not,” Jaq replied. “The telescope has never bothered them in the past. It’s what happened here last night that’s got the wildlife restless. Or more specifically, it’s what happened at the top of the Lovell Telescope that’s got them spooked. What happened up there?”
“I wasn’t here. I’ve only got the readings I had access to remotely. Signs of a spatial disturbance. Max Harding described an incredible light show about fifty metres above the dish and almost as wide.”
“And what do you think it was?”
“I’ve only got Max’s testimony to go off but Irulal claimed it was a doorway of sorts. A means to bring the rest of her people here.”
“And did she mean actual physical bodies?” Jaq asked.
“I don’t think so. The Faceless are vessels for the consciousness of her race. They were intending to send the living consciousness of her race through the disturbance.”
“It’s incredible,” Jaq said, staring out across the field to where the great white edifice of the Lovell Telescope sat catching the rays of morning light. “How can a race transmit just a living consciousness?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“You met them before though. MI18 did I mean. Back in 1983, Operation Snowflake.”
Linwood swallowed. Operation Snowflake was thirty years ago but felt like yesterday. “Yes. Three alien craft came down over the Isle of Arron and we were sent in as the clean-up crew.”
“And that’s when you found Irulal?”
“Yes.”
“But they were in spaceships. They didn’t transmit their consciousness then.”
Linwood warmed to the conversation. Despite her initial reluctance to share any of her experiences, it was refreshing to have a sensible conversation with someone genuinely interested.
“There’s a couple of reasons I can think of. Firstly, and most importantly, we don’t know that there wasn’t any unusual space-time event involved in their travel. Irulal never explained the mechanics of how her spaceships worked and we could only retrieve heavily damaged fragments from one of the craft. The other two were lost at sea.”
“You suspect an event like what happened here?” Jaq pressed.
“It’s possible. But then why would they not just send a fleet of ships through the event? Why go to the trouble of creating a mass of empty vessels for her people? If this was an invasion attempt, and they already had the capability to transport hardware, why didn’t they do so?”
Jaq nodded. “I get what you’re saying. That makes little sense. Perhaps your idea about a similar space-time event at Arron is a non-starter. Perhaps they travelled to Earth under conventional means.” She caught herself then, “I mean whatever constitutes conventional means for the Shun. You said you had a couple of thoughts. What else?”
“The spacecraft were damaged,” Linwood mused. “The RAF pilot that was sent after them reported seeing massive damage on all three of the craft. However they travelled here, when they arrived, they were damaged.”
“You’re thinking maybe travel through the space-time event caused damage to their ships?”
“Possibly. I don’t know. Like I said, Irulal didn’t offer any further information on those points. It took a lot of encouragement to get her to share anything.”
Jaq was continuing her own train of thought now, the ideas Linwood had offered must have triggered something. “It makes a certain sense, though doesn’t it? They send an initial scouting party through a space-time event, it damages their craft so they decide not to use it again to send through hardware. That forces Irulal to come up with a Plan B which only requires a consciousness to travel through the events. It’s mind-boggling.”
“What’s even more mind-boggling, is contemplating what kind of race can transmit its living consciousness,” Linwood said.
Jaq stopped musing and regarded her colleague. For the first time since starting the conversation, there was a spark of fear.
“How do you stop an invasion from a race that has no physical body to harm?” Jaq whispered.
Their conversation was interrupted then by the arrival of a tall man in a suit. Slightly overweight, with a head full of neatly greased hair, he reminded Linwood of how they used to dress and groom in the seventies. Perhaps fashion had just never caught up with him.
“I’m Trenton Winborn, Controller of the TALOS Institute,” he said, offering his hand to Linwood. Jaq took a step back. “And you must be Alice Linwood.”
Linwood took his hand and shook it gently. The grip was cool. He held her hand in his own for a fraction too long and she was about to pull out from his grip when he released it himself.
“Pleased to meet you,” she said. “Can you tell me what you’ve found out about the disturbance?”
“Very little,” he said nodding and wandering off a little distance. He stood staring across at the Lovell Telescope, hands resting on his hips like he was taking in a magnificent sunset on a cliff top.
“You probably know more about it than we do.”
“But you’ve got your team here, examining the area.”
“There are various levels of background radiation that might be interesting, but beyond that, little else,” he said.
“So why are you still here?”
Winborn turned his head a little then, and she thought she saw a scowl of annoyance. “We’re here to support Department 5. We’re at their bidding until they no longer want us.”
Linwood found the situation slightly odd. She didn’t know what else TALOS did, but they must be a highly specialised facility to support Department 5 with something like this.
“You’ve got a friend of mine at your facility. Max Harding?”
Winborn looked like he was thinking about the name before responding, “Yes. That’s right. We’re taking very good care of him.”
“But why have you got him at all?”
“It was at the request of your Director General. Max Harding was the man closest to the incident, wasn’t he? There’s concern that being so close to the centre of the incident might have caused him some medical issues. We want to make sure he’s fit and well.”
“I’d like to come and see him.”
Winborn wandered back over to the ladies and shook his head gently. Those bright blue eyes of his were poring over her face, they slipped down below her neckline before darting back up. “I’m afraid that will not be possible. He’s in quarantine.”
“Is that necessary?” Linwood asked.
“He’s shown signs he might have been infected by Irulal. We want to make sure he’s no danger to anyone.”
“I can still come and see him, despite him being in quarantine.”
“We’re busy people. We never get the funding we require so our people are working round the clock to keep things ticking over. Your arrival would be an issue. A disruption can unsettle them.”
Linwood suppressed a laugh “You make them sound like a pack of dogs.”
His eyes narrowed. “No. Not dogs. They are my workforce and I take great care of them. Max Harding will be out of quarantine in a few days and you’ll be able to catch up with him then. Besides, I’m sure you have enough on your plate to waste time to worry about Max.”
She could force the issue. Work with Jaq to get what she wanted. But Jaq looked unsure herself. Her eyes hadn’t once made contact with Winborn’s since his arrival and she’d taken a step back in the conversation. She didn’t envy her working situation. It must be difficult relying on a non-governmental agency so heavily. And apart from that, Winborn just impressed on her what a dick he could be.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Alice,” Jaq said and gestured that they might like to head back to the command unit. “It’s going to be a long day. I’m sure you’ve got other things to do.”
“Plenty,” Linwood replied. “But I couldn’t continue without dropping in to say thank you.”
Suddenly, Linwood stopped as someone tugged on her sleeve. She twisted around to see Winborn. He let go. “Alice, one last thing.”
Her heart thumped. “Yes, what is it?”
“I wanted to commend you blocking access to the command protocols on the mobile phone networks. It was very quick thinking and has the potential to save us from another attack.”
Linwood froze. How could he have known what she did? She’d been careful, excruciatingly careful in hiding her tracks. Not even the phone companies knew what was waiting on their networks for them, ready to stop another such attack. She could see from the expression on Jaq’s face that this was news to her.
“I don’t understand. What did you do?” Jaq asked.
There seemed little point in denying it. “Irulal used the phone networks to propagate a new command set to the embedded nanites that caused them to re-program people’s faces. I made sure she wouldn’t be able to do that again.”
“But Irulal’s gone,” Jaq replied.
“I didn’t want anyone else to have similar ideas,” Linwood replied, shrugging. “It’s no big deal.”
“I’m surprised you got agreement from the phone companies to help so quickly. They normally drag their feet over any attempt by us to change their systems,” Winborn said. He had a strange look on his face and for a moment it made Linwood question how much he could know about what she did. Was Winborn hoping she’d just come out and admit she hadn’t asked their permission?
“Everyone wants to get the situation under control as soon as possible. I’m not surprised they wanted to help.”
“Well, good work anyway.” He turned then as if he might be about to head back into the command unit, but he stopped and gave her his full attention again. Those beady eyes boring into her soul. “Just, remember that we’ve got jurisdiction over the event. You’re not authorised to operate any activities without first running it by myself.”
Linwood’s blood boiled. “You mean run it by Jaq. This event is being managed by Department 5, not TALOS.”
There was an awkward pause. Winborn nodded graciously before heading inside the command unit, calling out behind him, “be seeing you soon, Alice.”
Jaq remained impassive at the bottom of the steps. Only when she was sure he was out of earshot she spoke. “Don’t mind him. He’s a character, but he knows how to get things done.”
“I don’t understand why we continue to do business with TALOS.”
“Simple,” Jaq replied, “they have the best facilities in the country and we can’t compete with them over resources.”
“And what’s in it for them?”
“Money. What else?” Jaq shrugged and climbed the steps of the command unit.
And that was what it always boiled down to, Linwood thought. Who could profit the most? When she’d first started at MI18, they had money. They could ask for resources and they’d be given the best money could buy. Even before she’d left, it was clear that those times were changing. Disjointed procurement processes and preferential supplier contracts ended up costing the departments more money than ever and getting less and less in return. Paperwork filled their days and the glory days of chasing down monsters and aliens were becoming sidelines. No wonder the section had been left to ruin after she left. No wonder Thadeus had got away with so much.
As she headed back to her car, she knew her time running errands for the DG was quickly coming to an end. Putting a stop to an alien invasion without so much as a pat on the back was the last straw. No, not quite the last straw. The last straw was being ordered to answer to arseholes like Jaq Petro and Trenton Winborn. If they were the future of this nation’s security, she wanted no part of it. She was out.
There was one thing she needed them to help her with first though.
She hurried back to the command unit and saw Jaq about to sit down at a desk. She looked up, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“We’ve got to go back to the Tombs.”
13
7th May 2013
Two hours was all it took to assemble a small unit, equip and brief them, and get them to Southport. The first of the Department 5 Range Rovers pulled up underneath the pier, metres from the hatch where Payne and Linwood had last seen the policemen. The second came closely behind and parked alongside.
On the way, Linwood had tried to reassure Payne that everything would be all right, but the truth of it was, she was just as worried.
The air was crisp once she stepped out of the car and Linwood pulled the zipper up on her coat to her chin.
“That was Nixon’s car in front of the arcade building,” Payne said. “He never left.” Then he hurried out of the car and over to the hatch. Jaq and another agent got out of the second vehicle. Jaq introduced him as Agent Ned Oswell. He had a weapon strapped over his shoulder and he gripped it as he stood beside Jaq. It was eerily quiet under the pier. The skeletal structure stretched from their current location by the Promenade and over the lake before it reached the beach.
Payne’s attention was on a manhole cover in the shadows. “
We left this open.”
Linwood hugged herself. This could be her fault. She’d left the detectives guarding the hatch with no warning about what was within.
“Do you think they might have sealed it and gone home?” Jaq asked.
“No. I’ve been trying their mobiles. They’re not answering.” But Payne took out his phone and tried again. First one number, then another. When both calls went unanswered, he pocketed the phone and dug his hands into his pockets. “The cell network could be damaged after last night.”
Jaq nodded and glanced at Linwood. “Very likely in fact. We’re working with the network companies to understand how the signal travelled. It’s likely that many systems are being reset.”
Payne’s forced smiled revealed how little he believed that to be the reason for his inability to contact his friends. “I’ve got a signal. I’ve used this phone to contact other people on the same network. They’re just not picking up.”
Jaq inclined her head. “Shall we head down then?”
Ned offered a large torch to Linwood and another to Payne before passing a handgun to Linwood. “You OK with that?” he asked.
Linwood nodded.
“They’re just a precaution. If, for whatever reason, we need to defend ourselves, let me take care of it.” Ned looked serious enough that she wasn’t about to challenge him. Linwood wished they weren’t taking any weapons at all. The thought of taking arms into the Tombs made her nervous. This place used to be a place of refuge for her and the team but ever since Operation Snowflake, it had been an unpleasant place to be around.
Ned found the sunken handholds in the hatch, lifted it out, then lit his torch and shone it into the blackness. Linwood leant in. “Hello,” she called.
No response.
“I’ll go down first,” Ned said and without further preamble, he knelt, found the rungs of the ladder and began the climb down into the gloom. Payne followed, and once his head had bobbed below the surface, Linwood copied. As soon as her head dipped below surface level, the dust hit her nostrils and she was transported back a few hours, trying to find her way out after the explosion that had killed several of her team.
The Faceless Stratagem (Tombs Book 2) Page 8
