The Iron Fist

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The Iron Fist Page 11

by Andy Briggs


  He was struggling to breathe, and his movements had become sluggish through lack of oxygen. With growing dread, he realized there was no way he could escape.

  Sergeant Wade ducked as fragments of the sonic drill exploded with a high-pitched whine that would ring in her ears for an hour afterwards.

  The drill, along with several other heavy pieces of equipment, had been airlifted in to try to access the Inventory.

  Every attempt had failed.

  She looked at the scorched remains of the battlefield. A couple of barns were ablaze and half the farmhouse had crumbled in on itself, but at least the enemy had been defeated with injuries to only two of her unit. They had been quickly airlifted from the scene as the remainder of the World Consortium unit secured the area.

  A soldier whose fatigues were streaked with dirty snow and flecks of blood ran up to her and smartly saluted. “Ma’am, the surface is secure, but there appears to be no way to enter the Inventory from here.”

  She took in the soldier’s name tag. “Thank you, Gamble. What about Eema?” Wade asked almost as an afterthought. Once Eema had broadcast the distress call, the computer had fallen silent, another indicator that the intruders knew exactly what they were doing.

  “Not a squeak,” replied Gamble. “HQ called in with a news report from Russia. Pavel Branonov is missing, along with all his notes about Project Iron Fist.”

  Wade frowned. Pavel Branonov used to work for the Consortium but had since retired.

  Gamble continued. “A police report also states that he was seen breaking into Professor Yenin’s Moscow apartment, where he stole a journal with information regarding Iron Fist.”

  “Yenin was responsible for creating the security here.” Wade’s gaze locked with the soldier’s. “What was in his journal?”

  “We don’t know.”

  Sergeant Wade nodded. “Get the ELF set up. Broadcast straight down. Let’s see who is listening.” Extremely Low Frequency transmitters could send signals through oceans. They could transmit through solid rock, from one pole to the other if necessary. It was the only method open to them to communicate with Devon or Charles Parker, if they were still alive.

  Private Gamble saluted again and walked swiftly away. Wade absently kicked at the earth beneath her boots as she watched him go, gouging a hole a few centimetres deep in the snow-covered dirt. She had no doubts her team would be able to infiltrate the Inventory and confront the intruders. But that wasn’t her plan. Her plan was to sit and wait for them to come to her…

  It was impossible to avoid the submersible’s claw as it struck like a cobra. Fine ropy tendrils extended from its tip and wrapped around him like anemone stingers. Dev resisted the urge to howl as his chest was crushed; he knew that would result in him drowning.

  Kwolek retracted the mechanical arm, reeling Dev closer to the canopy. Out of the corner of his eye, Dev saw Lot and Mason attempting to swim for cover with the other sub in pursuit.

  Dev was now face-to-face with Kwolek through the shield of the canopy. He was surprised to find that, close up, she was pretty, even with the black titanium skeleton implants. However, her dark eyes were bereft of emotion and her smile could chill a piranha.

  Satisfied Dev was still breathing, Kwolek accelerated her craft, and Dev found himself soaring over the huge stealth sub, then plunging downwards so fast that a pain shot through his ears and he felt stabbing in the back of his eyeballs caused by the sudden increase in water pressure. The faster they descended, the more unbearable the pain became.

  A pale light ahead made him forget the pain for an instant. At first, it was difficult to make out what he was looking at. From a distance it appeared to be a dome of glass moving along the floor. As they drew closer, Dev could see several figures walking within the dome. Then, like an optical illusion, the reality snapped into place – it wasn’t a glass dome but an eight-metre half-bubble of air surrounding its occupants, who were dry and able to move normally.

  Lee led the five mercenaries, who were all carrying familiar energy weapons. The Wright twins hauled a large metal case between them, covered in military-style stencilled writing: DANGER: HIGH ENERGY.

  In the middle of the armed escort walked Charles Parker. Alongside him was a robot rolling along on caterpillar tracks. It looked like something from the 1970s, an old bomb-disposal robot. However, the shimmering device mounted on top of it was much more recent: it was producing the field that repelled the water, creating the half-bubble.

  The group turned in unison as Kwolek’s mini-sub drew nearer. The surface of the air bubble distorted the view, exactly like looking into a pool of water. Charles Parker squinted as the sub’s arm extended towards them. It was holding something.

  “Devon?” Charles Parker exclaimed as Dev was thrust into the air bubble.

  Dev found it an odd sensation suddenly transitioning from the cold water into the warm, humid air bubble, like diving in reverse. One moment he was fighting for breath and suffering acute pressure – the next he was hanging from the claw several metres above the ground inside the sanctuary of the air bubble, while Kwolek’s sub hovered in the water above them. The pain in his ears instantly subsided.

  He looked sheepishly at his uncle. “Hi.”

  Charles Parker’s eyes darted between his nephew and Lee. “Is this your idea of a rescue?”

  Lee slowly circled Dev. “Ah yes, the infamous nephew. Loved that Trojan you put in Eema – classy. You’ve been causing no end of trouble.” He indicated to the submarine holding Dev aloft. “Kwolek there is desperate to crush the life out of you for what you did to her. Do you think I should allow her?” Dev avoided his gaze. “I thought not. Release him.”

  The claw lowered Dev to the floor. He landed hard, twisting his ankle. The aqualung dropped from his mouth and slid across the floor.

  “Check he has no weapons on him.”

  Two henchmen dragged Dev to his feet and one performed a perfunctory pat-down, using the tips of his fingers to find any concealed weapons. He stopped at the pack of gum in Dev’s pocket, but quickly dismissed it.

  “The kid has nothing,” he said, a little surprised.

  Dev was even more surprised. Evidently the man was either not there when Mason was recruited, or dumb. Or possibly both.

  “You won’t get the Iron Fist,” he said with more confidence than he felt.

  The way Lee paused gave him hope. “Really? And what do you know of the Iron Fist?”

  The mercenary released Dev. He winced as he put weight on his twisted ankle. “It’s Nikola Tesla’s old invention. What do you want to know?”

  Lee regarded Dev with suspicion. Before he could reply, his radio earpiece crackled to life. In the silence of the bubble, Dev could just hear a voice.

  “Sir, we have lost contact with the surface team. Last transmissions indicated that Consortium forces had overwhelmed them.”

  Dev met Charles Parker’s gaze. They both knew that meant the task force would attempt to storm the Inventory. The flicker of hope grew in Dev’s chest, but he could see disappointment in his uncle’s face. Was it because Dev had been caught? Or was he disappointed that Dev had been forced to call for help?

  As usual, Dev felt he could do nothing right. He held in his anger as he noticed they had reached the large door leading to the next zone. The air bubble pushed against it, clearing the water away.

  “That is not unexpected,” said Lee without the slightest concern for the team he had lost on the surface. “The World Consortium will implement their usual procedures, which is what I’m counting on.”

  Dev felt sick at the idea that everything was unfolding just as the thieves had anticipated. He hoped Lot and Mason were still free. He peered through the bubble, but the smooth surface refracted the light, making it difficult to see anything further than Kwolek’s sub. What if the other sub had caught them … or worse?

  “Get this door open!” Lee barked.

  The twins lugged their case closer to the door. They heaved
the lid off and began assembling the complicated device contained within.

  Dev reached into his pocket – and stopped as a soldier raised his gun in warning.

  “Easy, kid.”

  Dev raised one hand to indicate he was unarmed, while he slowly took the packet of chewing gum from his pocket. “Easy yourself,” he said as he unwrapped his last strip and popped it into his mouth, putting the silver foil wrapper back in his pocket. “The only danger here is to my teeth.”

  While Lee’s attention was focused on the door, he stepped closer to his uncle and whispered: “Can you swim?” It was crazy, Dev realized, how little he really knew about Charles Parker.

  Charles raised his handcuffs. “I won’t be charging into the water, if that’s what you have in mind.” There was irritation in his voice.

  Dev raised a questioning eyebrow at the sight of the cuffs.

  “I had no option but to surrender.” Charles glared at Dev. “I sacrificed myself to buy you time. What a waste that was! And stop chewing while I’m talking to you. It’s a filthy habit.”

  Every word hurt Dev. Even as they faced imminent danger, his uncle couldn’t stop his petty complaints. Dev now wondered why he had even considered trying to save him. Iron Fist – that was the plan. Get it, get out. Tough luck if his uncle was left behind.

  Fuming, he spat the gum at the shield generator device mounted on the robot. It was a perfect hit – just as he had hoped. “Happy?”

  “Do I look happy?”

  “I don’t know, I’ve never seen that before,” hissed Dev.

  His uncle glowered. “I don’t need rescuing, Devon. Are you too blind to see? They used me as bait to lure you here!”

  Dev blinked. “But why would they want me? I’m not special.”

  His uncle’s face suddenly softened, and for a moment he saw the caring face of the man who had raised him. It was almost foreign; certainly Dev hadn’t seen it for many years.

  “Oh, Devon,” he sighed. “If only you knew…”

  There was a flash from beyond the confines of the bubble. Dev and his uncle spun round. Something had struck Kwolek’s submarine from behind – shunting the vehicle forward and through the wall of the bubble.

  Dev and Charles Parker flung themselves against the far wall to avoid the plummeting craft. With no water to support it, the sub landed with a terrible crunch. The carbon-fibre hull split open and slid across the floor, scattering the twins and Lee before it slammed into the wall, crushing the machine they had been building.

  Smashing the fractured canopy aside with her bionic arm, Kwolek rolled out of the wreckage, cut and bruised. Her eyes locked on to Dev. She scowled and took a menacing step towards him before being restrained by Lee.

  Dev scrambled on all fours for his aqualung. He picked it up and turned to his uncle. “You never said if you could swim.” His eyes shot to the robot as he jammed the aqualung in his mouth.

  Charles Parker followed Dev’s gaze. The gum had landed on the shield generator that was creating the air pocket. He instantly knew what Dev’s plan was.

  “NO!” bellowed Charles Parker.

  It was too late. Dev sprinted to the edge of the bubble and dived into the vertical wall of water. It was just like diving into a pool but without the splash. He kicked hard to distance himself from the air pocket and looked around for the cause of Kwolek’s woes.

  Dev knew he didn’t have a choice. He just prayed that Charles Parker could swim.

  The second sub was hovering in the water next to him. The paintwork on the front was scuffed from the impact of Kwolek’s machine. Dev was baffled as to why its pilot hadn’t prevented the crash.

  As Dev swam around to get a better look inside the cockpit, he was surprised to see Mason was at the controls, grinning like an idiot. He gave Dev a thumbs up.

  Dev swam towards the sub and gripped the hull just as the bio-virus in the gum infiltrated the circuitry on the shield generator and shut the device down.

  The air pocket collapsed and a wall of water tumbled down on Charles Parker, Lee and his team.

  The surge dragged the sub towards it, with Dev clinging to its hull – but Mason opened the throttle and pulled them away. Dev looked around frantically for a sign of his uncle. Then with horror he remembered Charles Parker’s cuffs.

  Had he just killed his uncle?

  Mason brought the sub to a halt and Dev saw Lot swimming over. Reaching the sub, she put her arms around him – was she that delighted to see him? Even with the horror and guilt whirling in his mind, it felt good.

  However, Dev knew they were far from safe. Lee would soon have the door open and leap ahead of them. And that door was the only way onwards.

  Or was it?

  Dev quickly swam to the sub, pulling Lot with him. He secured his arm around a pipe and indicated Lot should do the same. Then he knocked on the canopy to get Mason’s attention and pointed to the floor.

  Several metres away was a covered grid the size of a garage door, with the word “PURGE” stencilled on in a military fashion.

  Dev patted the missile pods, then indicated to the grid. Inside the cramped cockpit, Mason nodded in understanding.

  With a quick buzz from the sub’s rotors, Mason positioned the submarine and fired a torpedo straight at the grid. His aim was perfect.

  The moment it struck there was a roaring sound and the sub was sucked towards the breach. Dev held on to the sub for dear life and realized that was exactly what Lot was doing to him.

  They spiralled towards the grid as if entering a black hole, building speed with every second. Then they were plunged into darkness – sucked down the giant plughole as thousands of tons of water poured from the Blue Zone.

  Dev watched as Mason doubled over and loudly heaved his guts. Surely, he thought, there was nothing left to give?

  Lot scrunched her nose against the vile smell. Like Mason, she was feeling delicate after the violent washing-machine spin they had endured. They had been bucked in every direction in the darkness for what had seemed like an eternity.

  Eventually the massive column of water that had been pushing them along had receded as it siphoned through grilles in the tunnel. Then the sub, with Dev and Lot clinging on, had been spat out into the scrap room.

  Or rather more accurately, the sub slid down the end of a pipe, along with the last few dregs of water, into a large hill of junk at the bottom of the scrap room.

  Dev had been in the scrap room a few times before. It was another vast underground chamber. The half they were sitting in was a disorganized pile of discarded items: vehicles, the hulls of boats, computers, monitors – a vast desert of technology taken from military and research establishments around the globe or from the secret lairs of evil geniuses. It all came here to be decommissioned, sorted, stored, recycled or destroyed.

  Dev had forgotten that the drainage grid in the complex was filtered. Any tiny item of potential value found its way into this room. That way no tiny gadget or microchip could be accidentally lost down the sink.

  It had saved their lives.

  In the other half of the chamber were orderly stacks of items that were in the middle of being processed – a time-consuming operation that Charles Parker conducted with Eema. Every now and again he came across a gem. It was in a haul of scrap from a decommissioned Russian military base that the Iron Fist had been discovered.

  Mason stood up and stretched, breathing in deeply. “I needed that,” he sighed. He studied Dev. “You OK? You look worse than I feel.”

  Dev smiled. “Thanks for saving me back there.” The words came out with difficulty, but he had to clear his conscience. “I’m sorry about what I said. About calling you a traitor.”

  A half smile tugged the corner of Mason’s mouth. “I think I owed you.”

  Lot clapped her hands. “Excellent! Friends at last!”

  Dev and Mason spoke at the same time: “I wouldn’t go that far!”

  All three of them burst into laughter. It helped ease a
little of the guilt Dev was feeling about his uncle.

  “You should have seen Mase,” said Lot, giddy with excitement. “That sub chased us so we headed straight for some shelves—”

  “Well, I followed her,” Mason interjected modestly. “She’s like a flippin’ mermaid in the water.”

  “Yeah. Unfortunately he’s more like a very slow whale.” Mason shot her a playful scowl. “Anyway, the idiot inside came after us. Well, me, it came after me.”

  “Yeah, straight past me. I was hiding behind some junk—”

  Dev couldn’t resist adding a jibe. “That I believe.” He was surprised that his heart wasn’t quite in it.

  Lot continued. “So it followed between some shelves.” She held both hands close together to indicate how narrow the gap was. “And got stuck right there.”

  “Right in front of me,” Mason added proudly. “I saw a lever right there.” He indicated it was within reach. “And emergency release. So I yanked it and – BOOM! Bubbles everywhere!”

  “He’d only gone and ejected the pilot!” Lot laughed so hard there were tears in her eyes. Mason joined in, belly laughing as he mimed the guy shooting to the surface. Dev could only watch them as they recovered from the fit of giggles.

  Mason composed himself. “So I swam into the cockpit. Found a lever that resealed the cockpit and drained the water out. Then I took it. It’s so easy to drive, like playing a computer game.”

  “And since he’s such a lousy swimmer, I thought it was best that he drive,” said Lot, winking at Mason. “We dislodged it from the shelf—”

  “And came back to rescue you,” Mason finished.

  “Impressive,” said Dev, and he meant it. “I suppose that officially makes us a team?”

  Lot nodded sagely. “I think it does.” Then her voice lowered. “I’m sure your uncle will be OK. I saw people swimming towards the surface.”

  Dev faked a smile. He knew he wouldn’t be able to shift his guilt that easily.

  Lot sat down beside him and laid a hand on his arm. “He’ll be OK. Unfortunately I think the thieves will be too. What did your uncle say to you?”

 

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