by Adam Hamdy
‘Sure am, Janice,’ Finley responded. ‘You got any more intel on that van? What’s the connection to Simms?’
‘Gerry found Doug’s car. They checked the dash cam and it shows Doug pulling the van over for a routine stop. When he approaches the vehicle, he’s pulled into it,’ Janice explained. ‘The van sped off with Doug inside.’
‘I’ve got eyes on the van, Janice,’ Finley informed her. ‘It’s right here in the parking lot.’
‘Copy that,’ Janice replied. ‘All units, all units, proceed to Walton Avenue, Twin Lakes. Suspect vehicle on site.’
Hector hurried to join Hale in his assigned place at the rear of the group that would enter through the front of the building. There were six SWAT officers in black body armour, each carrying a Heckler & Koch MP5. They were to be followed by Dillon, Hale and Hector. Reeves was leading the second team, which would assault the rear entrance, and he had Alvarez and Nelson with him.
‘Move into position,’ Reeves’ voice came over the tiny radio that was pressed into Hector’s ear. He looked across the garden to see the SWAT commander and his team stalk towards the back door, which was still covered by a steel shutter. Hector followed his SWAT squad round the side of the building to the front door, which was also sealed.
‘We’re in position,’ whispered McDaniel, the officer leading Hector’s team.
‘Copy that,’ came Reeves’ voice. ‘Run the override program.’
Somewhere in the command unit one of Dillon’s techs was using the information they’d been given on the house’s security operating system to override the settings. Moments later, the shutter over the front door shot up.
‘Go! Go! Go!’ McDaniel commanded.
Two SWAT officers were prepared to use a battering ram, but they dropped the heavy implement when they saw that the front door had been blasted off its hinges. The squad surged into the building, moving in pairs, running a cursory cover and clear formation, with the FBI agents sweeping up behind them. They hurried towards the heart of the house; infra-red had already told them where the target was located.
Hector watched the armour-clad men move swiftly through the expansive living room, into a whitewashed corridor that led to the bedrooms. Halfway along the corridor was a branch that ran down to the panic room. McDaniel and his squad arrived there moments before Reeves, whose team had blocked any possible escape through the rear of the building. Reeves waved McDaniel and his team down the branching corridor, which ended in a single solid steel door. McDaniel moved ahead and pushed the heavy door, which gave at his touch. The override program had worked, but Hector saw McDaniel look back in surprise; he had obviously expected some resistance.
McDaniel raised his MP5 and flung the door wide open. Hector craned to peer over the heads of the SWAT officers in front of him, and saw two seated men. The first was an elderly Hispanic man in a checked shirt. A gag covered his mouth, and his arms and legs were bound to his chair. The second man was wearing Pendulum’s mask and body armour, but instead of standing to fight, he remained seated, struggling against bonds that tied him to his chair. Why would Byrne restrain himself? Hector asked inwardly as he suddenly realised that something was very wrong, and that the old man’s muffled cries, which could hardly be heard through his gag, were warnings. Hector followed the old man’s gaze as his eyes darted frantically around the panic room, desperately searching for hope among the half-dozen shoebox-sized bombs placed around him. Hector’s blood curdled and his heart skipped a long, hard beat when he saw receiver rigs wired to each of the powerful devices.
‘Bomb!’ McDaniel yelled, but even as he saw the man turn and start running, Hector knew that it was too late. He looked at Alvarez’s dismayed face as he too realised that death was upon them.
Inside the panic room, the rigs received simultaneous signals that activated the detonators and ignited the thermobaric explosive packed within the six devices. A huge blast tore through the room, shredding the walls, and a searing firestorm shot along the natural chimney created by the corridor. The last thing Hector saw was the approaching vortex of flame engulfing the bodies of the brave men and women ahead of him. Like them, a split second later Hector was consumed by fire.
57
It took Dorsey less than a minute to drive to the Facebook building. As they exited the GMC, Ash’s phone rang; it was Parker.
‘Hey?’ Ash said.
‘I’ve got Wallace for you,’ Parker told her, before patching through his call.
‘John?’ Ash peered up at the treeline where Wallace and Finley were concealed.
‘You see the blue van?’ Wallace asked.
‘Yeah,’ Ash replied.
‘It was used in the abduction of that Sheriff. Officer Finley says it looks like a routine traffic stop that went wrong,’ Wallace told her. ‘Be careful.’
‘Thanks,’ Ash said, suddenly on edge. She hung up, pocketed the phone and slowly drew her gun. ‘Van,’ she advised a puzzled Dorsey.
He drew his sidearm and the two FBI agents crept towards the vehicle. There was movement inside as a masked figure pulled back the inner curtain and slid into the driver’s seat. Ash was aghast to see Pendulum, and her mind struggled to comprehend how he could be here. Dorsey started shooting as the engine roared and the van lurched forward.
Wallace peered through the trees and watched the van speed towards Dorsey, who was no more than twenty feet away. He couldn’t see the driver, but he did see Dorsey fire a volley of shots, which hit the oncoming vehicle. Dorsey tried to run out of the way but slipped on a patch of black ice and went down, flinging his hands up in a pathetic attempt to prevent the van driving over him. Wallace watched in horror as Dorsey’s body bucked and twisted like an enraged bronco when the wheels rolled over it, before falling utterly still.
‘We’ve got to get down there!’ Wallace yelled at Finley, who nodded. Both men turned and sprinted towards the police cruiser.
Ash fired at the van, which gathered speed as it drove towards her. Pendulum ducked as bullets pierced the windshield, and Ash turned and ran towards the building, sprinting across the parking lot as the engine roared behind her. She made it to the glass doors, which slid open to allow her into the large lobby, and raced towards a horrified security guard who sat behind a desk against the far wall. As she ran, she turned to see the reason for his horror; the van mounted the sidewalk outside the building and smashed through the plate-glass doors, careening across the lobby towards her. Ash attempted to leap out of the way, but she was hit by the Chevrolet, and the impact sent her into a flying roll that came to an abrupt halt when her head smashed against the lobby wall, knocking her cold.
Finley pulled up beside Dorsey’s body. As Wallace hurried from the car, he heard a loud klaxon inside the building and looked towards the wrecked entrance. The glass frontage had been shattered and the lobby was obscured by a thick cloud, but even through the dust and smoke, Wallace could see the warm orange light of a fire glowing within the darkness. He turned to Finley, who crouched beside Dorsey’s mangled body, his fingers pressed against the FBI Agent’s neck.
‘He’s dead,’ Finley said, before speaking into his radio. ‘Dispatch, this is two-one. We have a Federal agent down at the scene. Suspect has fled into the building. I am in pursuit.’
‘Two-one, this is dispatch,’ Janice’s voice came over the radio. ‘Todd, the chief wants you to wait for back-up.’
Wallace shook his head. ‘We can’t wait,’ he said. ‘Ash is in there.’
Finley nodded and set off across the parking lot, walking between the tracks laid by the Chevrolet. Wallace watched for a moment, then picked up Dorsey’s pistol, which had been thrown into the snow a few feet from his body, and concealed the gun in his coat pocket as he hurried to catch up with the police officer.
Finley did not try to dissuade Wallace. He simply nodded slowly and drew his sidearm as they stepped over broken glass and entered the dark lobby. Dust and smoke filled the air and debris was scattered everywhere. Wa
llace could see the red brake lights of the van at the far end of the room, and he followed Finley towards them. The rear door of the Chevrolet was ajar, and Finley aimed his pistol at the gap as he stepped through the hazy smoke towards the vehicle. Wallace peered up the side of the vehicle and saw a man, a security guard, crushed between the hood of the van and the concrete wall. The man stared at Wallace with lifeless eyes as a small fire burned in the engine beneath him. Wallace looked away in disgust and joined Finley by the Chevrolet’s rear doors. The police officer kept his gun poised as he pulled one of the doors open.
Wallace peered inside to see the interior of the van was lined with communications and surveillance equipment. Some of it was scattered over a body that lay on the flatbed, but most of the video screens were in place. They broadcast an image of the same location from different vantage points. It looked like a battle scene from a war movie, but Wallace realised it was actually a house that had been partially demolished and was on fire. Strewn about the sun-drenched garden that surrounded the white concrete building were the bodies of fallen police officers and FBI agents. Wallace stood, mesmerised by the horror, while Finley checked on the debris-covered body in the van. It was a man wearing a sheriff’s uniform, and Wallace guessed it was the missing Doug Simms. Finley turned the sheriff’s head to reveal a single gunshot wound drilled through his right temple.
Wallace heard movement outside the van. He jumped off the flatbed, ran over to a pile of debris and pulled at ragged pieces of wood to reveal an injured man stirring underneath.
‘Get out, get away,’ the dazed, bloody man slurred quietly, forcing Wallace to concentrate on his voice. ‘Bomb.’
The word shocked Wallace and he followed the dazed man’s eyes as they focused on the van. Finley was by the doors, trying to pull the sheriff’s body from the vehicle.
‘Hey!’ Wallace yelled towards the van. ‘There’s a bomb!’
The startled police officer fixated on something inside the vehicle, and, as Wallace followed his gaze, he saw what had caught Finley’s attention. Pressed up against the partition separating the back of the van from the cabin was a grey brick wired to a timer that flashed 00:07.
‘Move!’ Finley yelled, as he started running.
Wallace pulled the injured man to his feet, and Finley grabbed hold of both of them and bundled them through the lobby. As they ran haphazardly, stumbling over debris, Wallace willed time to slow, but he could do nothing to prevent the inevitable. They were six feet from the entrance when the countdown cycled to zero, triggering the device. The powerful bomb exploded and the blast tore through the van, twisting and shredding the chassis. The initial shockwave was immediately followed by a furious firestorm that incinerated the vehicle and surged through the lobby, scorching everything in its path. Wallace, Finley, and the dazed stranger were lifted off their feet and hurled through the entrance, into the parking lot, where they landed heavily on the icy ground.
Wallace recovered first, and turned to peer towards the entrance. The violent firestorm engulfing the lobby died away almost as quickly as it had begun, and the sprinkler system activated, unleashing a heavy shower of water on to the pockets of flame that glowed in the smoke-filled gloom. Wallace turned to Finley, who exhaled deeply as he got to his feet. Neither man said anything about how close they’d come to death; their stunned expressions conveyed more than words ever could.
‘He’s going to kill me,’ the injured stranger cried out in despair.
Wallace and Finley hoisted the unsteady, punch-drunk man to his feet. His shirt was crusted with old blood, his face swollen with the marks of a multitude of injuries, and he was shaking.
‘I have to get out of here,’ the man said when he finally came to his senses. ‘He’s going to kill me.’
‘Who are you?’ Wallace asked.
‘Dan Alosi,’ the trembling man replied. ‘He kidnapped me. Made it look like a home invasion. But he’d already been in the house. Set everything up. He brought me here on a private jet. He hacked into my security camera system. He’s been watching every move the Feds made. He set up a relay from my home line to a satellite phone, so they’d think we were inside. I wanted to warn them, but he would’ve killed me. He kidnapped a couple of innocent men, I think they were gardeners. He dressed one of them in his suit. He wanted the Feds to think we were in my panic room. They’re all dead! He detonated those bombs without even blinking. He killed them all.’ Alosi broke down at the memory of his experience.
‘Why’s he here?’ Wallace asked, willing the man to compose himself.
‘I don’t know, but he wanted access to the main server room,’ Alosi replied eventually. ‘He got the security architecture from Zach. He beat me until I gave him the systems structure. He’s planning something, but I don’t know what. He’s just been sitting in the parking lot, watching my house and playing the Feds. He went nuts when he saw the woman.’
‘Ash?’ Wallace asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Alosi replied. ‘I think she was a Fed. I saw him dragging her into the building after he’d knocked her over with the van. I couldn’t do anything. I have to get away. He kept me alive in case there was a problem with the network, but he doesn’t need me any more. That bomb was supposed to kill me,’ he added fearfully.
‘We’ve got to go after Ash,’ Wallace told Finley.
The huge police officer nodded. ‘Sir, can you walk?’
Alosi looked at them uncertainly. ‘I think so.’
‘I’m gonna need you to wait in my car,’ Finley told him. ‘Back-up is on its way.’
Wallace watched Alosi limp towards the police cruiser, before turning to Finley.
‘You should wait with him,’ the huge police officer suggested.
Wallace shook his head and gave Finley a grim stare. He’d already lost too much to this maniac. He owed Ash his life and had no intention of letting Pendulum take her.
‘Let’s go,’ he said as he headed towards the smoke-filled building.
58
Dorsey. The man’s name was the first thing to hit Ash’s mind when she came round. She was moving, being dragged into a cold blue hell where the Devil was screaming an ugly tune. Ash’s eyes focused and she saw her own feet, her heels trailing limply against a smooth polished floor. She was in a narrow alley, flanked on either side by row after row of server racks, the machines fitted with low-intensity blue lights that made the chilled air seem even colder. Her hearing kicked in and she realised that the Devil’s scream was a fire alarm, relentless in its urgent call for people to evacuate the building.
Ash tried to gauge the length of the alley but there was no obvious end; the icy lights simply stretched towards the horizon. She looked up to see Pendulum, the man who had murdered Dorsey. He was hunched over her, hands clasped around her chest, half lifting, half pulling her backwards to some unseen destination. When he glanced down and saw Ash watching him, he dropped her to the floor, drew up his right fist and punched her square in the face. The fiercely powerful blow sent her reeling, and the blue server lights swirled in a kaleidoscope as the edges of reality frayed and folded in on themselves.
‘Fight and you die,’ came the harsh voice from behind the mask. ‘Run and you die.’
Strong hands forced their way under Ash’s arms and clasped together over her breasts, and she lay limp as she was dragged on. Ash’s mind was cast adrift in a dazed sea of confusion and she lost track of time and distance.
Her senses found their way back when she was roughly deposited on the floor in the heart of the server farm. There was a clear thirty-foot square patch that was only broken by four computer terminals which protruded from the gleaming floor like monoliths. As she lay on her back, Ash looked round to see a silhouetted figure at one of the terminals. She tried to focus, but her eyes drifted as though she was in a dream.
‘The cops are on their way,’ she heard Pendulum announce.
‘It’s nearly done,’ the silhouetted figure remarked.
‘Yo
u have to leave. You can’t afford to be here when they arrive,’ Pendulum cautioned. ‘I can finish it.’
‘California?’ the shadow asked.
‘They’re gone,’ Pendulum replied. ‘The van’s destroyed.’
‘We’ve done what we had to.’ The shadow’s voice was tinged with regret.
‘If I have any trouble getting out, I’ll use her for leverage,’ Pendulum added, gesturing towards Ash.
‘She’s awake,’ the dark figure noted.
‘Don’t worry, she won’t be able to talk,’ Pendulum said, approaching Ash. He swung a mighty punch, driving his fist with such force that when he hit Ash’s head, it rebounded against the floor and sent her into dark oblivion.
Finley moved at a deliberate pace, his gun held out ahead of him, and Wallace followed a few steps behind. They were in a long, windowless corridor that stretched out from the lobby. Finley was a few paces from an intersection when a man and a woman ran round the corner and almost barged into him. The startled woman cried out.
‘Take it easy,’ Finley said calmly. ‘We’re not gonna hurt you.’
‘We need to find the server room,’ Wallace added.
‘Down there,’ the flustered woman yelled above the klaxon. She pointed to a corridor that ran off to the right. ‘The security door at the end.’
‘Thanks,’ Finley replied, before starting towards it.
‘Here,’ the woman called out to Wallace as she produced a key card from her pocket and handed it to him. ‘You’ll need this.’
The two Facebook employees hurried towards the nearest fire exit as Finley and Wallace stalked on, taking the corridor that led off at a right angle. A heavy, glass-panelled security door lay at the other end, and Wallace could see the low blue lights of dozens of computer servers beyond it. Finley’s pace quickened and Wallace hurried after him.
Ash felt the cold floor beneath her and slowly opened her eyes. Lights danced in front of her as she struggled to make sense of the world. She raised a hand to her head and touched a tender bruise. The motion attracted the attention of Pendulum, who stood beside a nearby computer terminal.
