by Tony Batton
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Reems looked at her tablet computer and swore. Her team had already sent evidence that Bern's dental records had been tampered with: there could be only one reason why that would have happened. The journalist had been right. That meant Bern and Marron had been executing a plan that was years in the making. After all this time hoping to counter them, had she been outplayed?
The anonymous tip about Leskov – the reason she'd had both ground and air teams in the vicinity of CERUS Tower – was all clearly part of their scheme. They'd wanted her in place to shoot a helicopter down. It had got rid of Leskov and provided the perfect cover. Reems felt sick inside.
George Croft strode into Bern's office, looking perturbed. "We have a further problem," he said.
"We don't have enough already? I need to get back to HQ, so tell me on the way."
"Getting there will be the problem. It's your helicopters."
"Is Air Traffic Control still closing London? Just give them my clearance code."
"You don't understand. The helicopters were taken."
Reems blinked. "Taken where? By whom?"
Croft cleared his throat. "We don't know."
Reems sat forward. "Five military grade helicopters were taken from right outside this building?"
"As ridiculous as it sounds, that is exactly what I am saying."
"Was nobody guarding them? Where were the pilots?"
"Apparently all five helicopters started powering up, appropriate codes were sent and they all took off, despite the fact that the pilots were in a briefing together in the Tower's lobby. And it gets stranger. According to eye witnesses, all five helicopters took off in perfect formation: so perfect it looked like they were joined by rods."
"I know what you're suggesting." Reems stood up and walked to the window. "I know the interface was designed to fly helicopters, but do you really believe Faraday could be behind this? Surely he'd need weeks, months to train to fly even one of them, but five?"
"It's either that or five mercenary pilots, with acrobatic flying experience, just happened to be in the area."
ONE HUNDRED FOURTEEN
ALEX POINTED ACROSS THE WATER. "Incoming helicopter." She ran across the bridge and tapped on a computer screen. "It's a government model."
"Reems!" Bern hissed. "How did she find us?"
Marron stared at the screen over Alex's shoulder. "She shouldn't even know to look."
"Are our weapon systems operational?" Bern asked.
"There wasn't time to test them," Marron replied, "but I made sure we had a back-up." He pointed through the window to a metal chest strapped to the deck.
Alex sprinted out from the bridge and flipped the chest open. Inside was a shoulder-mounted rocket-launcher. She lifted it and lodged it in the crook of her neck, then began flicking switches.
The tannoy system whined then crackled. "Put it down," said a voice on the speakers.
"Faraday?" Marron asked. "How can he be--"
"There's no need for the third person. I can hear you just fine. I'm using the speakers as a two-way channel."
"Tom?" Alex asked, lowering the weapon. "How did you find us?"
"Using the talents you gave me. You're not the only ones who can track people. Do I have permission to land on your helipad?"
"Are you alone?"
"Thanks to you, I'm more than capable of flying a helicopter on my own."
Marron glanced at Bern, who nodded. "One wrong move and we'll shoot you down."
"Given how valuable I am to you, I consider that unlikely. Especially as I simply want to talk."
Bern cleared his throat. "Then land when ready."
"Ah, Mr Bern, back from the dead. I look forward to making your acquaintance."
The sound of the rotors grew and they could see the silhouette of the craft against the stars as it slowly approached.
"Is it a trick?" Bern asked. "Perhaps he's already given away our location?"
"If he were going to do that," Marron replied, "why come at all? Why not tip off the Air Force or Navy?" He paused. "We'll get moving, just in case." He drew a pistol from his belt. "As soon as we've secured our visitor, that is." He hesitated then reached into his pocket, producing a small remote-control device, and handed it to Bern.
"What's this?"
"The nanite remote control – the government safeguard we mentioned during implementation. Only use it if you have to, and only if you're close enough. Five metres or so and it will lock him up."
The helicopter touched down on the helipad, its rotors quickly decelerating. Marron, Bern and Alex watched and waited, but nobody climbed out.
Alex looked at Marron then called out. "Tom, come out slowly! Keep your hands where we can see them."
There was no reply.
"Go check it out," Marron said.
Alex nodded, lowering her rocket launcher to the deck and swinging the automatic rifle slung across her back to the front. She clicked a powerful torch on the barrel and shone it into the helicopter as she advanced.
Still there was no movement.
She reached the door and pulled it open, pointing her weapon inside. "There's nobody here!" she called.
Across the deck, the proximity alarm sounded again.
"What the hell now?" Marron shouted. "Tom, what are you playing at?" He moved to a computer screen. "There are four more helicopters approaching," he told Bern, frowning. "Same make and model. What the hell is going on?"
ONE HUNDRED FIFTEEN
BERN LOOKED TOWARDS THE APPROACHING aircraft. "So he did give us away."
Marron's jaw grew stiff. "Get yourself below deck before you really get yourself killed."
Bern turned and walked to the rear of the yacht and the nearest set of steps below.
"Something wrong, Peter?" asked Tom's voice, over the speakers.
The noise of the helicopters was growing.
Marron squinted in the dark. "Who's with you? Is Reems on board?"
"It's just me."
"If you're just going to be ridiculous then--"
Alex jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. "Don't you get it? It is just him! He's flying all of the helicopters."
The four new helicopters switched their spotlights on in unison as they took up position in a horseshoe formation around the front of the yacht. Machine-gun turrets swivelled and laser-sights dotted Marron and Alex.
Marron looked up at one of the cockpits. "Tom, I know you're angry, but you have to agree that you've become something incredible."
"Nobody ever asked if that was what I wanted."
"What you have is a gift. What you are is amazing."
"What I am is your undoing."
"So you're going to gun us down in cold blood?"
Alex licked her lips. "Do you have it in you? You could have killed me before, but it's not who you are."
"I'm not who I used to be. But I probably won't shoot you. Your punishment needs to be rather more protracted."
"I thought," Marron said, "you came out here because you wanted to talk."
"Actually, I was just wasting time. Distracting you. Now I have what I want. Goodbye." The helicopters pulled sharply upwards, extinguishing their spotlights.
Marron stared at the receding aircraft in confusion. In the distance, there was the sound of a heavy crash of waves.
Alex shook her head. "Let's get out of here." The crash of waves grew louder, a harsh, discordant slap, as if they were hitting something metallic.
And then another voice boomed out of the dark. "Attention, all aboard the Phoenix. This is the British Navy. Prepare to be boarded."
"What now?" cursed Marron, picking up the rocket-launcher. He hefted it back onto his shoulder and turned around. And promptly lowered his weapon.
A navy destroyer was bearing down on them, its spotlights bursting into life and blinding them.
"He gave them our location," Alex said.
"The other helicopter," hissed Marron, grabbing Alex's arm. "We'
ll use it to escape." They crouched low and ran to the back of the yacht.
The aircraft was gone.
Alex turned to Marron. "I know why he came."
"Why?"
"For Bern."
Marron's expression turned heavy. "I did not anticipate that."
"So what now?"
He shook his head. "I think we've run out of options. There's no way out of this for us. Not for both of us. You understand what I'm saying?"
Alex took a sharp breath. "Will it work?"
"There's only one way to find out. Are you ready to take the chance?"
"I am."
He kissed her on the forehead. "I love you."
A tremor of a smile crossed her face. "I know."
ONE HUNDRED SIXTEEN
LENTZ PUSHED BACK FROM THE workbench, shaking her head. "I cannot find Tom. If he doesn't want to be found then he won't be."
"You're giving up?" Kate shouted. "You can't give up!"
"I'm a realist." Lentz shook her head. "He's evolving and that creates myriad other unknowns. His nanites are progressing exponentially. The interface they were designed to build was focused on a single purpose: to control a helicopter. Tom has gone way beyond that. He's connecting wirelessly, without the aid of any augmentation. Quite frankly he could do anything that involves using a computer or electronic device that he can connect to."
"What about the internet?" asked Kate.
"That is basically a big network so yes. But the more ambitious he is, the more intense his use of his abilities, the more he will drain himself at an almost cellular level as he tries to fuel and sustain the nanites. He complained about excessive hunger earlier, and I didn't think about it being symptomatic of his use of the interface. The nanites are probably multiplying within him: the situation is only going to get worse."
"What will happen?"
"He might faint. He might collapse." Lentz paused. "Or he might die. It depends on so many variables." Lentz's phone beeped. She looked at it with a frown, which turned to surprise. "It's Tom. He's given us a location. He needs help."
Kate leaned close, lowering her voice. "How are we going to get out of here without our government friends following?"
"Actually Tom's instructions are clear. He wants them there."
"Really? Why?"
"He says he has a surprise for us all."
ONE HUNDRED SEVENTEEN
THE FIVE HELICOPTERS FLEW LOW over the ocean, away from the Phoenix. Bern sat in the front passenger-seat of the lead aircraft. Behind him was Tom, pointing a gun between his shoulder blades.
"I've not seen Marron outwitted like that before," Bern said.
"It wasn't a fair fight; I had every advantage," Tom said. "Of course that's usually how you operate."
Bern shrugged. "You don't need the gun. I'm hardly going to try to overpower you, especially when you're flying."
"I'm well aware you're an experienced pilot, so I wouldn't put it past you to try."
"Alex looked in the helicopter. Where were you?"
"Hiding behind a service panel. I don't need to see out of the craft to control it. Not with the sensor arrays these things have."
Bern glanced out of the window, seeing the silhouettes of the four helicopters shadowing them. "Why did you take me and not them?"
"Because I wanted to meet you."
"How did you even know I was alive?"
"You're not as thorough as you think. So much for your perfect crime."
"I'm not the villain here, Tom."
"Do you really believe that? I suppose nobody ever considers themselves evil, that they rationalise their actions as being for some good reason, but do you really have no doubts at all?"
"I wanted to change the world."
Tom shook his head. "Because only you know what's best for it?"
"If Henry Ford hadn't mass produced the motorcar, most people would have been happy with a faster horse. They needed his vision. People need mine now."
"I accessed the CERUS network. I reviewed the data. I made connections." Tom leaned forwards and whispered in Bern's ear. "I know who you are."
Bern swallowed. "Everyone knows who I am."
"I know who you are to me. I found the DNA records in the archives. And I see you know as well."
"Clearly you have all the answers already."
"Mostly I have questions: ones that only you can answer. I've often dreamt of meeting my father, but I didn't think it would happen. I was told you were dead."
"I know."
"Why didn't you get in touch with me?"
"Because your mother hid you from me. She wouldn't have wanted it."
"And you expect me to believe you actually listened to what someone else wanted?"
"Believe what you like. Look," Bern said, "you've either rescued me so we can have an emotional reconciliation, or you've come to kill me for what you believe I've done. Which is it?"
"Actually, I've come to give you what you never gave me. A choice."
"And what would that be?"
Tom leaned back in his seat. "Not yet. But soon."
Bern leaned back in his seat, running his fingers over the remote control tucked into his belt.
ONE HUNDRED EIGHTEEN
THE HELICOPTER QUINTET SOARED OVER the white Dover cliffs and made its way along the coast. Tom guided it to a small field and, in a storm of dust and agitated vegetation, set all five craft down. The first hints of dawn were scribbling the sky with colour.
"What's your plan?" asked Bern, looking out of the window.
"We only had so much fuel." The door opened and Tom gestured with the gun for Bern to climb out. "Let's take a walk."
They moved away from the helicopters, which were now powering down, and climbed a small hill to the south. At the top they paused, taking in the sight of the sea and the faint breaking of the waves.
"I've been trying to find out more about you my whole life," Tom said. "Even if my mother didn't want to tell me, why didn't you do something after she died? After everything I've been through – after I just saved you – I won't let you hold out on me."
"What do you mean, save me?"
"Two minutes after we departed, a navy destroyer arrived at the location of your yacht."
"I see. Then I guess I should thank you."
Tom waved the gun. "Don't get carried away. You have some talking to do before I make up my mind what happens to you."
"You expect me to believe that you're going to shoot me if I don't tell you about your mother? What if I run away?" asked Bern. "How would you stop me?"
Tom gave a snort. "I could always shoot you in the leg. I've seen your files. I know how you've set things up. Marron will take the fall for everything. You'll have some difficult questions to answer, but I doubt there's any proof that you haven't already removed or manipulated to your advantage. With the all-star team of lawyers you'd hire, there's not going to be any justice for you; for all the people you've had killed."
"I didn't know what Marron was doing."
"You might as well have done it yourself. But it's more than that: you don't even care."
"So, what? You're going to be the lawyer to bring me to justice?"
"Justice should be about fairness. As I said, I'm going to give you a choice. Option one: take responsibility for what you've done. Turn yourself in without hiding behind your lawyers."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because it's the right thing to do. I want to know that you can do the right thing."
Bern raised an eyebrow. "That's not a choice that I can make."
"Then we come to option two."
"Which is?"
"Give me the choice. Take this thing out of me."
ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN
BERN BLINKED. "YOU WANT ME to remove the interface?"
Tom nodded. "It would mean I could go back to my old life. You think I like being pursued by criminals and governments? Is it really that surprising I want it gone?"
"If I agree, what's to stop you turning me in afterwards?"
"We'll just have to trust each other." Tom extended his hand then hesitated. He drew it back and spat in his palm before offering it again.
Bern looked puzzled, but spat on his own hand and shook Tom's firmly. "We'd better get moving. If you've got a phone, I'll call in some emergency transportation. It would be nice if you could lower the gun now."
Tom held up a finger. "Before we get to that, I'm going to ask you those questions again."
"Why are we circling back to this?" Bern asked impatiently.
Tom reached into a pocket and held up a syringe. "Do you know what this is? It's a CERUS product I believe you call truth nano." He handed it to Bern. "Inject it please."
Bern took it slowly. He fumbled it, dropping it to the ground. "How clumsy of me."
"Pick it up. I have spares if you break it."
"This isn't necessary."
"Yes, it is. It's also unpleasant, as my friend Kate found out after Marron used it on her in order to find me." Tom tipped his head to the side. "Obviously he did all that without your permission."
Bern frowned and crouched to pick up the syringe, his hand sliding to his belt as he did so. "I guess I'll just have to live with that." He held up a small controller, pressing a button on it.
Tom's eyes flew wide open. He stumbled forwards and collapsed.
Bern bent down and took the gun from his limp hand.
"I just wanted the truth." Tom whispered. "What have you done?"
Bern waved the remote control. "All CERUS nanites have an override in them: a secret control-code that we programmed in to allow us to assert our authority in the event something went wrong. This controller allows me to instruct your nanites and, by extension, you."
Tom gritted his teeth. "I can't move."
Bern leaned closer. "I can hold you there for as long as I like."
"You were never going to take the interface out of me, were you?"
