by R D Shah
‘It all sounds like a pretty messy endeavour,’ Harker remarked, hoping to annoy this little Hitler standing before him.
‘This is not and never was going to be clean-cut in any way. You cannot aim to remove ninety-nine percent of the world’s population without numerous setbacks, unintended casualties and unforeseen mistakes. Such mishaps are bound to happen. But given a long enough time-scale, with the technology needed, the foresight to prepare for such instances and most of all the sheer will to see it through to the end, I can assure you all this will come to pass. And it begins now.’
With that announcement, Wilcox returned his attention to the display screen and raised his head proudly. ‘The dawn of a new world begins today, and with it a new God.’
Under the watchful eye of McCray, Harker calmly made his way over and stood at Wilcox’s side. ‘I called you insane earlier, Wilcox, but I was wrong. What I should have said is that you are the devil incarnate.’
A twisted smile crossed Wilcox’s lips, as he leant over and whispered into Harker’s ear, ‘Maybe so, Alex… but even hell has its heroes.’
Chapter 45
‘Where are my friends?’ Harker demanded for the third time. ‘Or are have they already become part of your intended ‘collateral damage’ alongside the rest of civilisation?’
Harker’s yelling provoked a wicked smile from Wilcox, who was taking great satisfaction from this. ‘Calm yourself, Professor.’ He glanced over to one of the guards standing in the corner of the control room and clicked his fingers. The man disappeared through a side door, then reappeared just moments later with a hooded figure which he dragged over to where Wilcox was standing. The guard whisked off the hood to reveal the furious glare of Chloe Stanton, with a piece of silver tape fastened across her mouth. Her eyes widened in relief on seeing Harker, before Wilcox firmly ripped away the tape.
‘Now, now, Doctor Stanton. No more outbursts or I will be forced to silence you again,’ he warned before glancing over at Harker. ‘She’s a feisty one, this assistant of yours.’
‘I’m not his assistant,’ Chloe protested through gritted teeth. ‘I’m his partner and I demand to know why you’ve kidnapped us.’
Harker smiled at this correction as to Chloe’s position. After all she had already been through, she was sticking to her guns and refusing to budge in regards to her role in all of this.
‘Partner it is, then.’ Wilcox sighed, slapping the piece of tape back across her mouth. ‘But let’s have you as a silent partner, shall we.’
He pushed her away into McCray’s waiting hands who secured her as she fumed silently underneath the gag. ‘Now, why don’t we see how your other friend is doing.’ Wilcox clapped his hands and turned to address the people still working at their desks. ‘Gentlemen, would you please leave the room and allow us some privacy.’
Without hesitation the group of staff made their way out through the side doors until only the four of them remained. ‘My team is made up of members of all the Magi families, plus a few specialists we had to ‘convince’ into joining us. They are all well trained and will never question an order.’ Wilcox said proudly, before shooting Chloe a sarcastic glance. ‘You could learn a thing or two from them.’
He then reached over and took control of the keyboard at the work station in front of him, tapping at it until the large central screen went black. A few seconds later, it clicked on to night-vision display, with footage from a security camera set high up in the corner of some darkened room about the size of a squash court. Harker noticed the room was completely empty except for a single individual patiently squatting in one of the corners, with his forearms resting on his knees.
‘Sebastian,’ Harker murmured as the camera zoomed in from above, giving him a clearer image of the Templar Grand Master. A few cuts and bruises on the man’s cheek suggested his captors had not been as easy on him as they had been with Chloe, and a ripped jacket and torn white shirt confirmed this. ‘What have you done to him?’ Harker demanded and riled that his friend had been roughed up.
‘Nothing really! Only a bit of rough and tumble getting him into his cell.’ Wilcox gave a mischievous smile. ‘Nothing yet anyway.’ He gestured to McCray who reached for his walkie-talkie and mumbled something unintelligible into it. ‘Sebastian Brulet. Grand Master of the Knights Templar.’ Wilcox continued, licking his lips. ‘Let’s now see if that sanctimonious title is fully justified, shall we?’
* * *
Brulet flinched and covered his eyes as above him spotlights burst into life illuminating the room in a blinding light. Without those obligatory sunglasses to shield his sensitive eyes from the glare, he became adrift in his surroundings. The effect was made worse by the dazzling white paint covering the walls, making it difficult even to discern where the walls met the floor.
Brulet remained motionless with both hands cradling his eyes, cocooned in that haze of white light, waiting for his vision to acclimatise as best it could. He was still waiting when in front of him a portion of the wall slid away to reveal a darkened entrance. At first this dark patch in the wall seemed a welcome relief, alleviating the sense of complete disorientation, but this comfort was quickly swept away as a sinister growl rumbled from somewhere inside the opening.
The now familiar shaggy outline of the beast he had encountered earlier steadily padded into the room and halted, as the door slid shut behind it. The fact that the creature ignored the moving door, told Brulet that it was at ease with its surroundings. This plainly was the animal’s familiar territory and that knowledge served to heighten Brulet’s unease. He instinctively shook his arm, only to realise his arm-sword had been removed. He cursed his own foolishness: of course the weapon had been taken, it would have given him a chance and the Magi were not known for their sense of fair play.
As Brulet pondered the options open to him, the beast lowered its head and began to slowly make its way around the edge of the room, heading towards him. That it remained so close to the walls suggested the animal was being cautious. But, as it got closer, it stopped and then jumped a bit closer, forcing Brulet to move in the other direction. This creature wasn’t wary at all but just taking its time. Savouring the inevitable outcome like a cat playing with a mouse. Once again it made a small jump, emitting a low clicking growl. It was enjoying this.
Brulet slowly moved backwards until his shoulders were pressed against the wall, but with no sudden moves that might encourage the creature to pounce.
His options were few but he did have one thing to his advantage, and that was the colour of the animal’s coat. Its jet-black fur provided his still-struggling vision with something to latch on to. This, at the very least, meant that any move the animal made could be calculated somewhat in advance.
The beast made another leap forward but this time it was further. And as Brulet continued his cautious withdrawal, he desperately sought to formulate a plan. This stalking game would not last for much longer before the animal became bored and decided to end things in a flurry of gnashing teeth and ripping claws. Regardless of who walked out of here alive, the conclusion to this standoff would have to come fast and quick and, with no way out, Brulet decided upon the only option left to him.
It is an odd thing that when someone is confronted with a hopeless situation, an idea that in the normal light of day would seem rather pathetic can suddenly gain tremendous merit. In the human mind, hope springs eternal, and the instinct for survival is so strong that odds and probabilities fade into significance when faced with one’s own fate. It was this very instinct that now impelled Brulet’s thinking as he reached down to his belt buckle and unfastened it. He slipped it loose from around his waist and began feeding it tightly into the palm of his hand, section by section, not wanting to reveal its true length for fear that the beast might see it as a threat. Unfortunately, the beast was not that stupid and even though it had no idea what its prey intended, it did suspect something. It lowered its head and after a quivering of its rear legs, it pounced
forwards. The brief pause before the pounce allowed Brulet just enough time to press one shoe against the wall and launch himself sideways, just missing the animal’s outstretched claws. He rolled once across the floor using the same momentum to leap upright as the creature’s body thudded into the wall. He then swiftly retreated into the opposite corner, and again pressed his shoe against the wall, with the belt now unfurled as the beast turned and began to advance, the near miss only having excited it further.
In Brulet’s mind there was no way the animal would miss a second time, and would expect him to jump out of reach, so the only way to cause confusion in the beast’s mind was to bait it into making a mistake by doing something it would not expect.
With the ends of his belt clasped in either hand and one foot still firmly pinioned where the wall met the floor, he lowered his head and widened his eyes as far as he could before emitting the most ferocious snarl followed by the deepest growl he could manage, while revealing as much of his teeth as possible.
This display of defiance caught the creature off-guard and it hesitated for just a fraction of a second before unleashing an almighty roar. It hunched up as Brulet watched intently for that tell-tale quiver of its back legs and, in a perfect moment of timing, he launched himself sideways just as the animal leapt towards him. One of its claws caught Brulet’s shin before its head slammed into the wall with a painful-sounding crack.
The beast dropped to the floor, stunned, and without hesitation Brulet dove on to its back, slinging the belt buckle around its throat and into his other waiting palm. The animal was still recovering as Brulet slid the other end of the belt through the buckle and, with all his strength, yanked it upwards until the metal point of the buckle caught in the last hole on the belt, constricting the leather tightly around the creature’s throat.
Brulet then leapt off its back and then watched from a safe distance as the beast writhed against the strip of leather compressing its windpipe emitting a series of wheezing, hissing noises as it struggled to breathe. The animal lurched to its feet and tried to claw at the tightened noose with its hind legs, merely causing it to fall back to the floor. As it did so, Brulet launched himself into the air and brought both feet back down together squarely on the stricken creature’s skull with all his weight. He felt a crack ripple under the soles of his shoes as a part of its skull gave way, and then jumped back out of the way of the flailing claws, which were already beginning to go limp.
Brulet watched as the beast’s body sagged and expelled a strange burbling noise as it struggled to breath under pressure of the belt still tightly wrapped around its neck. The blow had not killed it outright, but it was clearly not going anywhere anytime soon.
Satisfied the enemy had been incapacitated, Brulet raised his arms to fill his lungs, but then he recoiled at the sharp pain across his chest. He looked down to see a line of blood running just below his ribs, that was now becoming thicker and thicker. He pulled up his shirt to view the source of his discomfort and discovered the creature had caught him with a claw, ripping a nasty wound right across his stomach. He could not tell if it had pierced any organs but his strength was beginning to dwindle and he fell back on to the seat of his trousers, trying desperately to steady himself. He was still trying to catch his breath when the door opposite him once again slid open to reveal the now familiar, gloomy, entrance. Without further thought, Brulet pulled himself to his feet, still tenderly clasping the wound across his stomach.
He waited anxiously for another one of those creatures to appear, and racked his mind for another strategy. But due to the wound he had sustained, and just like the creature throttled by the belt, he was not going anywhere.
A few seconds passed and then a figure appeared out of the gloom. ‘Not bad,’ McCray remarked with genuine sincerity in his voice. ‘From one solider to another, not bad at all.’
A metallic voice interrupted and Brulet gazed up at a meshed speaker built into the wall. ‘Enough of the pleasantries,’ John Wilcox’s voice crackled. ‘Fetch him here to me.’
‘Come on, let’s go.’ McCray strode over and hauled Brulet fully upright. ‘OK?’
Despite the severe pain of his injuries, a smile crept across Brulet’s face. Wilcox had sounded furious, no doubt severely irked by the thorn in his side that was Brulet’s survival of the organised death trap.
‘I’m fine,’ Brulet replied loudly, so that Wilcox would hear over the intercom. ‘Just dandy.’
Chapter 46
‘The hero returns,’ Wilcox hailed him sarcastically, as Brulet entered the command centre accompanied by McCray. ‘What a show you put on for us, Mr Brulet. You really are quite the performer, aren’t you?’
‘That depends on your definition of entertainment,’ Brulet replied scathingly, aware of Harker and Chloe, who still had tape strapped across her mouth, ‘but, given your warped mentality, I would probably have to agree.’
Brulet ignored the glowering look on Wilcox’s face and turned his attention to Harker. ‘Glad to see you alive, Alex.’
‘The feeling’s mutual, Sebastian,’ he replied, hugely relieved to see him standing there. ‘Wilcox has been enlightening us all about his plans to make himself immortal.’
‘Yes, he took great pleasure in telling me about it earlier,’ Brulet declared. ‘He’s quite the genius.’
The mention of that word had Wilcox smiling happily. ‘That’s quite a compliment coming from a Grand Master.’
‘Not really,’ Brulet snapped. ‘Hitler was a genius too, but he was a depraved and evil genius… just like you.’
‘Quite,’ Wilcox replied, but the smile on his face faded.
Harker now gestured to the bloody wound on Brulet’s stomach. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’ll live.’ Brulet next glanced over at Chloe and her restrictive strip of silver tape. ‘Still uneasy around women, I see,’ he commented, with a shake of his head, ‘I had always heard that about you, Wilcox.’
The comment clearly riled their host, whose nose wrinkled in irritation. ‘As if you know anything about me,’ he snorted, before reaching over to rip away the tape from her lips.
‘Well, you know what they say,’ Brulet continued calmly.’ If you’ve met one psychopathic and narcissistic egomaniac, you’ve met them all.’
‘Is that true?’ Wilcox marvelled ironically. ‘Then you’ll undoubtedly know what I am about to do next, won’t you? Mr McCray, would you call the staff back in, please, and get someone to stem the flow of our guest’s bleeding. I don’t want him dying on me just yet.’
McCray disappeared through one of the doors and returned moments later with a procession of support staff, who quickly resumed their positions at the work stations.
The doctor who had injected Harker earlier also appeared and made his way over to Brulet with an impressive looking first aid-box and began attending to the Templar’s stomach applying a large cotton pad which was then held in place with medical tape. ‘Now let us get started,’ Wilcox continued, indicating a gruff-looking man in his fifties sitting at one of the work stations at the far end of the room. ‘Mr Samprey, if you would now be so good as to bring up our first location.’
The man immediately began issuing instructions to his team, whereupon the main view screen in front of them began to flicker back into life. On the screen appeared an image that was all too familiar. It immediately elicited an uncomfortable groan from Harker, who then shot Wilcox a despising glare.
The live image of Westminster Abbey was most likely taken from a surveillance camera high up on a building opposite, as it looked down directly over the impressive cathedral and the scores of people flowing inside through the main entrance.
‘Fear and ignorance,’ Wilcox mused, ‘the staple diet of any religion wishing to fill its pews. Unfortunately for the sheep already inside, their prayers will not be answered today.’
‘John, you can’t,’ Harker protested. ‘There must hundreds in there. They’re just scared and looking for reassurance.’
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‘Well, they won’t be getting it and besides this is not about them. This is about everyone else. People must have their hopes in the existing Church shattered if we are ever to rebuild a new belief in the coming years. I thought the destruction of St Peter’s Basilica would have made that obvious.’
This statement left Harker stunned, if not surprised, and he continued staring coldly at Wilcox in silence.
‘I will admit that I chose this next location, in the heart of London, for your benefit, Alex. But don’t feel guilty, because I would have got around to Westminster eventually.’
He pointed a finger at the screen and wagged it. ‘Gentlemen, if you would.’
Even as the technicians tapped away at their keyboards, Harker was already lurching towards Wilcox in a fury but he was stopped almost immediately by McCray, who rammed his forearm across Harker’s chest to stop him getting any closer.
‘You’re mad,’ Brulet hissed, tensing impotently against his handcuffs.
The frustration in his voice received only a dismissive grunt. ‘What you consider insanity I call vision,’ the Magi leader declared sanctimoniously. ‘It takes a great man to conceive a vision but it takes an exceptional man to implement it. Now watch as that vision becomes reality.’
Behind them one of the technicians began counting from ten, as another recited the necessary checks.
‘Ten, nine …’
‘All HAARP facilities online and location locked on.’
‘… eight, seven …’
‘Power surge beginning and receptors at maximum.’
‘… six, five, four …’
‘Generators purged and clear for release.’
‘…three, two, one. Payload is away.’
Harker stared at the screen as a momentary flash of light lit up the sky above Westminster Cathedral. Then the image began to shake… the two stone towers of the west entrance were the first to go, crumbling into jagged blocks that crashed down onto the pavement in a cloud of dust, and right on top of the crowds queuing up to gain entrance. Next the main roof began to wobble as vibrations rippled across its tiles, whereupon the stonework gave way and collapsed in on itself. The main front entrance was next, tumbling down onto those who now fled the collapsing structure and the magnificent stained-glass windows shattered into pieces, sending further misery down onto the frightened people below. Most of them had already disappeared from sight due to the falling debris and the dust clouds rolling out in all directions.
