Vortex cr-4

by Chris Ryan

  Ben was no expert at driving a truck, but after his exploits in the Congo he was good enough. The gears crunched noisily as he shifted them up as quickly as possible and sped away from the two soldiers they had just overcome, completely against the odds. They sped along the road in anxious silence. There was nothing to say — they both knew the stakes. The soldiers whose places they had taken most likely had mobile phones on them; they would already have been in touch with Lucian's people, and the chase would be on. Ben and Annie's hastily cobbled together plan was falling apart at the seams.

  The truck hit a bump in the road, shaking them about and causing something to fall off the dashboard.

  'What was that?' Ben asked tensely, keeping his eye on the road ahead and not daring to look in the side mirrors to see if anyone was following them.

  'Just a packet of cigarettes,' Annie replied. 'And a lighter.'

  Ben blinked. A lighter. An idea began to form in his mind. 'Hold on,' he told his cousin, before clenching his jaw and turning the steering wheel into a sharp left turn. The truck left the road and juddered across country a little distance before he slammed down the brakes and brought them to an abrupt stop. The engine shuddered, and then stalled.

  'What are we doing?' Annie asked.

  'Get out,' Ben told her. 'And bring the lighter.'

  They jumped out of the cab and ran round to the back of the truck, which Ben opened. Vortex was still there, safely entombed in its metal flight case and still tied to the truck with ropes.

  'We can't open the flight case,' Ben said, thinking out loud. 'We already tried that, and it's useless without the key. It's too heavy for us to carry it anywhere, and they'll already have sent someone after us. We've only got one option, and that's to destroy the thing here and now.'

  'How, Ben? It's a metal flight case. You're not going to set fire to it with a plastic lighter.'

  Ben shook his head. 'I've got another idea. Here, give me a hand.'

  They climbed up into the back of the truck.

  'Undo the rope,' he said. 'We need the longest piece we can find.'

  Annie looked panicked and confused, but she had no option other than to do what Ben said. The knots that fastened the flight case to the side of the truck were large, thick and difficult to untie; and the fact that they were rushing meant it seemed to take even longer to loosen them. Eventually, however, they did untie them. Unravelling the rope, they managed to unwind a piece that was at least ten metres long. Ben looked at it unenthusiastically. 'It'll have to do,' he murmured to himself.

  'What do you mean, it'll have to do?' Annie demanded. 'What's going on, Ben?'

  But there was no time to explain. They jumped down, then Ben grabbed the keys that were still in the ignition and unlocked the fuel cap at the back of the truck. 'Give me the rope,' he told Annie.

  She handed it to him, and he carefully started to thread it into the fuel tank. 'We need to get it saturated,' he said tensely.

  'Ben!' Annie warned. 'Look!'

  He glanced in the direction that she was pointing. In the distance were two more trucks coming towards them. It was clear that they were moving very quickly.

  Half the rope had been fed into the fuel tank by now, so Ben pulled it out, then started to insert the other end.

  'They're getting nearer, Ben! I don't know what you've got planned but it had better work — these people have already tried to kill us once today.'

  'Just a few more seconds.' His hands were covered in stinking diesel as he continued to feed in the rope.

  'Hurry!'

  It was done. The whole rope was saturated. Ben started to pull it out, leaving a little of the diesel-soaked rope hanging inside the fuel tank; the rest of it he laid out on the ground, pulling it in a straight line so that the end was as far away from the truck as possible.

  'Give me the lighter, Annie,' he said quietly.

  Annie's eyes widened as she realized what he was planning to do. 'It's too dangerous,' she said. 'We're too close.'

  'Get away from the truck.'

  She stood firm.

  'Annie, you heard what Joseph said. If we don't destroy this thing, thousands of people could die. This is a real Code Red situation. Now get away from the truck.'

  'No,' she replied.

  'Annie, they'll be here in a couple of minutes. Give me the lighter — it's the only chance we've got.'

  'No, Ben,' she said. 'Look at your hands — they're covered with fuel. If you spark up that lighter, you might go up in flames yourself.'

  'I'm going to have to risk it.'

  'No you're not, Ben.' She held out her arms. 'My hands are clean. I can do it.'

  'Annie!' he said urgently. 'We haven't got time to argue.'

  'Then you'd better do what I say.' She stared defiantly at him — one of those stares that Ben knew he couldn't argue against.

  'All right,' he said quietly. 'But I'm staying with you. The moment the flame touches the end of the rope, we run — OK?'

  Annie nodded. They could hear the engines of the approaching trucks now; there wasn't a single second to lose. 'Ready?'

  'Ready. Good luck, Annie.' He clasped hold of her free hand as she bent down and sparked the cigarette lighter into flame.

  'Annie,' Ben said. 'I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I'm sorry I forced you to come into Spadeadam.'

  His cousin looked at him. 'Don't be silly, Ben. Do you really think I wanted to be left behind?'

  A slow grin spread over Ben's face. 'Not really,' he said.

  They both looked back down and held their breath. 'Ready?'

  'Ready!'

  Annie lit the rope.

  'Run!'

  Ben shouted. Hand in hand they sprinted as fast as they could away from the truck.

  It was a matter of seconds before it exploded. Ben and Annie were thrown to the ground by an intense blast of burning air, and they covered their heads with their arms to shield themselves from the chunks of burning shrapnel that flew all around them. As the explosion subsided, there was a flaming crackle, and Ben turned over onto his back to see the vehicle burning, a thick black stream of smoke rising up into the air.

  'We did it!' Annie said breathlessly. 'We destroyed it.'

  But Ben didn't answer. Instead he squinted his eyes and looked through the flames into the wavering distance beyond. The vehicles that had been following him were there, and three soldiers had climbed down. They looked at the burning truck with unconcealed horror, and Ben realized that what they saw was not a burning weapon, but the piles of money they were expecting to get paid, all going up in smoke. In an instant they all started shouting at each other.

  'That's right,' Ben whispered to himself. 'Keep arguing. Keep arguing, then get back in your trucks and drive away.'

  It was a vain hope. From the midst of their increasingly heated discussion, one of the soldiers happened to look past the flames. His eyes widened as he saw Ben and Annie lying there.

  'Look!' they heard him shout as he pointed in their direction. His colleagues stopped arguing and glanced over. And then, without hesitation, they sprinted towards them.

  Ben and Annie moved as one. They jumped to their feet and started running through the high grass away from the soldiers.

  They dared not look back, and they dared not slow down. Only their legs could save them now.

  Chapter Twenty

  Joseph walked implacably down the concrete corridor.

  He knew there wasn't much time. Not because of Ben and Annie and what they had to do, but because of himself. The pressure was building up inside his head; his hands were shaking; he was becoming enshrouded in the black cloak of paranoia. He recognized the warning signs of a psychotic episode only too well. It would happen in minutes or hours; but he knew it would happen. He had to get to Lucian before the shadow fell over his mind and he became helpless.

  But first there was something he had to find.

  He had seen it before, when he was with the others and they were peering into roo
ms in this underground warren. He had made a mental note then, but trying to find his way around this maze was an impossibility. He'd know the room when he stumbled upon it, of course, but until then he had only one option: to try every door he came across, and hope that he didn't run into any of the men his brother was commanding to help him in his twisted plan.

  The last three rooms he had looked into had been empty. Keep focused, Joseph, he kept telling himself. It won't be long now. You're nearly there. Keep focused.

  He stopped, thinking he had heard footsteps. Maybe he had, maybe he hadn't. Maybe they were in his mind. It felt like people were watching him. 'Maybe they are watching you, Joseph,' a voice seemed to say in his head in a light, sing-song way.

  He clenched his jaw. 'Get out of my head,' he said out loud. 'You're not there. You don't exist.'

  And once again he was surrounded by silence.

  Joseph looked around. He had stopped by another door, the only one in the particularly gloomy corridor in which he found himself. He listened carefully to check there was nobody talking on the other side; when he heard nothing, he opened it and peered in.

  When he saw what was inside, he smiled to himself. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

  There was a light switch on the wall — a very old-fashioned one — and it illuminated a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. On the far wall of the room was a mass of metal shelving, groaning with equipment. The right-hand side contained electrical equipment — wire, switches, batteries. The left-hand side housed several large boxes. On a number of these, written in red letters, were the words Joseph had been looking for: 'DANGER: SEMTEX.'

  He knew why Lucian needed to have Semtex. The plastic explosive was used to harden steel that had a high manganese percentage — no doubt that was what he had used to make the components of his terrible weapon. But Joseph had a very different use for it. A more destructive use. A use that would ensure that Vortex could never be remade. At least, not by Lucian. Without hesitation, he went to work.

  Making the radio-controlled switch would not prove to be an intellectual difficulty for the old man; what made it harder was the fact that his hands were still shaking, and the equipment he had found required certain adjustments. He soon managed it though, and then he turned his attention to the plastic explosive. He was going to require a large amount of Semtex, and something to carry it in. His eyes fell upon a small silver flight case. He opened it up to discover that it was empty. That would do.

  Minutes later, he had loaded several pounds of Semtex into the case. He inserted the two electrical probes of his makeshift detonator into the plastic explosive, closed the case, and then picked up the detonator control he had just constructed.

  Once that was done, he allowed himself a moment's silence. His last moment, before he took the greatest risk of his life: the risk of turning himself into a dead man walking.

  He took the push-button switch firmly in his right hand, and without further hesitation pressed it down. The moment he released it, the Semtex would explode, and there was enough of the stuff to bring down the whole bunker.

  With grim determination, he picked the flight case up in the other hand, then stepped out into the corridor.

  'Release it,' the voice said in his head, but Joseph ignored it. It took a great effort of will, but he ignored it. Instead, he started to shout at the top of his voice. 'Where is Lucian?' he bellowed. 'Take me to him. Take me to him now!'

  Several times he called, and his voice echoed around the concrete corridors. It did not take long for him to hear the hurried patter of footsteps approaching, and this time he knew without question that they were real, not figments of his damaged imagination. Seconds later, two soldiers came running up the corridor towards him, assault rifles at the ready.

  'Get on the floor,' one of them shouted.

  'I won't be doing that,' Joseph replied. He held the switch in the air. 'The moment I let go of this, several pounds of high-grade plastic explosive packed into this case will explode.'

  The soldiers' eyes widened.

  'You must understand that I don't want to harm you, but I will release it unless you do exactly what I say. Do you understand?'

  'Y-y-yes,' the soldiers stuttered.

  'Good. Now take me immediately to Lucian.'

  The soldiers nodded, turned and started to walk down the corridor.

  'Not so quickly,' Joseph instructed. 'I'm an old man. I cannot keep up.' The soldiers steadied their pace a little, though they still walked with agitation, throwing nervous glances back at Joseph as they led him along the maze of corridors to Lucian's room. Once there, they knocked.

  'What is it?' Lucian's voice called impatiently.

  The soldiers walked in, followed by Joseph.

  'What do you wa—?' Lucian's question faltered as he saw his brother enter the room.

  He was wearing a brown overcoat, and had a briefcase on the table. Flight Lieutenant Johnson was with him. They looked as if they were just preparing to leave, but when Lucian's eyes fell on his brother, he was unable to hide his shock.

  'I thought you were—' he started to say.

  'Sir!' one of the soldiers interrupted. 'You have to listen to me. He's got a bomb. He has Semtex loaded in that case, and he's carrying a detonator.'

  'He's right, Lucian,' Joseph agreed.

  Silence fell on the room.

  'He's bluffing,' Flight Lieutenant Johnson whispered.

  Lucian ignored his sidekick. 'Show me the explosives, Joseph,' he said calmly.

  Slowly, his hands still shaking, Joseph placed the flight case on the table and opened it. Lucian's lips went thin when he saw the huge amount of Semtex that was loaded inside. He nodded his head slowly.

  'Don't do anything foolish, Joseph,' he said carefully. 'We can sort this out. We can come to an arrangement.'

  'An arrangement?' Flight Lieutenant Johnson hissed. 'What are you talking about. He's a madman.'

  'Shut up!'

  Lucian shouted.

  Joseph ignored his abrasive brother. Instead he turned to Johnson. 'A madman?' he murmured. 'So they have been telling me for many years. But there are different kinds of madness, are there not? The madness that inspires someone to develop a weapon that could kill millions, for example. There are enough such weapons in the world, without madmen creating more.' He glanced at Lucian as he spoke, then turned to the two soldiers. 'How long do you need to evacuate this bunker?' he asked.

  The soldiers looked at each other. 'Five minutes,' one of them said uncertainly.

  'You've got three,' he said, before turning to Johnson. 'You, go with them. Get everyone out and well away from the area. Do you understand?'

  White-faced and sweating, Johnson nodded his head.

  'Go!'

  The three of them left, leaving Joseph alone, finally, with his brother.

  Ben's muscles were burning.

  He and Annie were sprinting as fast as they could, both of them easily matched as far as speed was concerned; but the men following them had longer legs and were catching up.

  'Don't stop,' he gasped at Annie. 'If we stop, they'll either catch us or shoot us.'

  Annie didn't reply, but her look of agonized exhaustion as she continued to run alongside him said it all. She was feeling the same pain throughout her body that Ben was; she too was at the mercy of her willpower as they struggled to break through the pain barrier and reach the forest up ahead where at least they would have a chance of hiding. A chance of surviving.

  Ben allowed himself a quick glance over his shoulder as he ran. The soldiers were further behind than he thought, which gave him a surge of momentary relief. They had stopped. But then he saw why. One of the soldiers raised his weapon and pointed it in their direction.

  'Get down!' he screamed at Annie, pulling her heavily to the earth even as he spoke. They hit the ground just in time — a shot echoed around the countryside, and Ben was sure he heard the bullet whizzing over his head. Looking back, he sa
w the men had started to run towards them again.

  'We need to keep going,' he said breathlessly. 'Run in a zigzag — it'll make us a more difficult target.'

  'It'll slow us down too,' Annie puffed.

  'Yeah, but I've got an idea.' They started to run again, weaving in and out. As they did, Ben reached into his combat trousers and pulled out the gun he had taken from the soldier driving the truck. 'I hope this thing's loaded,' he gasped, before turning to look at the men following. He flicked off the safety catch, stretched out his hand, aimed just above the heads of the three men chasing them, and fired two deafening shots.

  The men shouted in surprise and alarm, then hit the ground. Ben and Annie upped the pace, ignoring the shrieking pain from their muscles. They had to get to the forest, and quickly.

  Behind them, the soldiers pushed themselves up to their feet, but no sooner had they done so than Ben fired another couple of shots, forcing them back down to the ground.

  'We're nearly there!' Annie shouted. 'We're nearly at the trees!'

  A shot rang out behind them.

  'Keep going!'

  Ben yelled, and with gritted teeth they made a final spurt for cover, crashing into the forest with an explosive breath of relief.

  'We need to hide,' Annie gasped. 'But where?'

  Ben looked around them. He knew they only had seconds to make a decision.

  'Here,' he said. He looked up — the canopy above him was thick. 'Our best bet is to climb up a tree on the edge,' he said. 'Even if they expect us to do that, there are hundreds of trees here, so it will be nearly impossible for them to find us. Follow me.'

  They ran along the edge of the forest a little way until they found a tree suitable for climbing. 'You go first,' he urged Annie, then watched as she scaled the tree with cat-like skill. Within seconds she was hidden in the upper branches. Ben tucked the gun back into his combat trousers, then launched himself at the tree trunk, following the route that his cousin had so deftly taken. There were plenty of footholds, and he was several metres up before he heard the sound of voices nearby. He looked above him — not far now until he was out of sight — and kicked his foot into the next foothold to propel himself upwards. As he did, however, the gun slipped and fell to the ground. The moment it hit the earth, the weapon went off with a loud bang that nearly caused Ben to lose his grip and fall from the tree.