by A. G. Taylor
The helicopter powered on towards the very centre of the city, towards the taller buildings of the business district. Hack couldn’t help craning his neck round the side of the helicopter to make out the famous landmarks below: Big Ben, the London Eye, Buckingham Palace.
“We’re almost here,” Marlon Good announced, clearly excited and showing off in front of Bright. “You’re going to love the new base.”
The major sniffed. “By evening we’ll own London. All this place has to be is secure and low profile.”
The helicopter passed over the Thames and turned to the west. Hack looked down at the great, dirty river cutting through the centre of the capital and then ahead as the helicopter began to descend. Marlon Good pointed to a structure on the south bank.
“There it is!”
The building was several storeys tall, rectangular and rather nondescript. However, it was the four white cylindrical towers stretching up from each corner that caught the eye. They gave the building the appearance of a giant, upside-down plug, dwarfing everything around it. From some piece of half-forgotten trivia, Hack recognized it as Battersea Power Station. He craned his head round to see better as the helicopter did a circle.
“Low profile,” Major Bright said. “Right.”
Marlon Good shrugged. “I got a good deal! They were going to turn it into flats!”
Bright shouted through to the pilot. “Take us down.”
As the Black Hawk flew between the chimneys it was possible to see that the roof of the main building was open, revealing a single, giant room within. The space was large enough for them to fly inside. As the chopper descended into the belly of the building, the walls and towers rose high above.
Good grinned and then looked at Bright, who sat impassive. “Come on, Major! Don’t tell me you’re not impressed!”
Major Bright said nothing and, as the helicopter touched down on concrete, jumped from the vehicle and strode away towards a group of waiting mercs.
Good wrinkled his nose. “No pleasing some people.”
Hack and May exited the chopper after Good, closely followed by their guard. May had the same dumbfounded expression on her face as Hack as she looked over the interior of the disused power station. The area where the chopper had touched down functioned as a landing pad and there was enough space for several more such vehicles. At each end of the building stood closed double doors – at least twenty metres high. Beams of light from windows set high into the walls fell across the centre, giving the place the look of a cathedral or the palace of some king. To the left and right were raised platforms linked by metal stairways. Technicians worked at computers and equipment here, while more armed soldiers patrolled.
Great, more mercenaries, May thought as she went to stand beside Hack. So much for making an easy getaway.
Hack nodded. This place is a fortress.
He pointed high up to the edge of the open roof, where it was possible to see sniper positions and even mounted machine guns.
“How did you manage to set up all this stuff in the middle of the city?” Hack asked Good.
The American grinned. “Money. And very influential friends. Come on. Let me show you around.”
Hack looked at May as they followed him to a raised platform. He wants to show off his toys. Let’s see what we can learn.
“Battersea Power Station,” Good said, waving a hand through the air as he strode ahead. “Initial construction completed in 1933. Almost burned down in 1964. At its peak it consumed a million tonnes of coal a year for electricity generation. Closed in 1975. Since then there have been suggestions for redevelopment as a theme park, shopping mall, apartments and museum, but without success. Now it belongs to me.”
They stopped on a platform a few levels up and Good placed his hands on the railing, surveying the scene of mercs and technicians working all around. Hack looked towards the roof at the sound of another helicopter. The vehicle swung into view a second later, on a descent path into the building. Strung from the bottom of this Black Hawk was a net. It contained the hypersphere.
The helicopter hovered in place so the sphere was just a couple of metres above the ground. Technicians moved in with a cage on wheels. The sphere slotted into a cage like an egg into an eggcup, then the net was released. On the ground, Major Bright and a group of his soldiers watched the technicians wheel the cage to an elevated area packed with machinery in the very centre of the building.
“Do you really think Bright is going to let you live after you help him take over the city?” Hack asked, turning back to Good.
The American laughed. “The major needs me and my technology, as you might have seen.”
May and Hack exchanged a glance. “For now,” she said, going with Hack’s lead. Anything they could do to drive a wedge between the two men would be to their advantage. “But what about after he owns London? He won’t need you any more. It will be just him and the alien he’s carrying around inside.”
Good frowned at her, but then forced his expression into a smile. He waggled a finger at them both, as if he was telling off two naughty children. “Nice try, but Major Bright and the Entity need me far into the future. After London, there’s Europe to be subjugated. Then the rest of the world. If I were both of you, I’d be more worried about my own necks…if you’ll pardon the pun.”
He really believes he’s too important for Bright to betray him, Hack sent to May, who nodded slightly.
He’s too much of an egomaniac to see how he’s being used.
Before they could say anything else, Good turned and started up the next set of steps to a platform above. The merc gestured for both of them to follow.
“Welcome to the command centre,” Good said as they stepped onto the upper level, a wide platform lined with workstations and banks of monitors along one side. At each workstation a technician sat – twenty of them in all, each scanning CCTV footage of different parts of the city.
“We’ve hacked into the city’s security network,” Good said. “From here we can observe anything that happens within a fifty-kilometre radius.”
Hack scanned the images on the screens: roads, shopping malls, underground stations, even the insides of some buildings. For the moment the technicians seemed to be merely snooping in on the security feeds for the city, but the controls before them suggested that when the time came they would be able to take over the entire system.
Why is Good telling us all this? May asked at Hack’s side.
Because he needs someone to show off to, he replied. And because he thinks there’s nothing we can do to stop him.
I’d like to prove him wrong about that. Big time.
Hack stepped closer to the nearest technician and looked over his shoulder at multiple views of rush-hour traffic crawling into the city.
“How’s the convoy progressing?” Good asked the operator.
“We just picked them up heading past Croydon,” the man replied, not taking his eyes from the screens. “They’ll be here within half an hour.”
“Excellent,” Good said. “Let’s speed them along, shall we? Give them green lights all the way. And turn every other intersection in the city red.”
The operator grinned and started tapping away on the touch screen in front of him. Schematics of the traffic control system opened up and he began manipulating them at lightning speed. “All operators, prepare to go live in 5…4…3…2…1…”
He pressed the screen and it turned from red to green, indicating full control over the systems he’d previously been merely observing. Along the line, technicians began working away at their controls. The operator called up a screen labelled Global Traffic Control Override. He pressed a square flashing Emergency Lockout. On the screens, the traffic slammed to a complete halt as lights went red and stayed like that all over the city.
“How are you doing this?” May asked, shaking her head at the scene of chaos unfolding on the screens. Within a few seconds the city had been brought to a complete standstill.
Good replied, “A few years ago, the British government installed an override system that could take control of all security, traffic and communications within the capital in case of a terrorist attack. We’ve just taken control of that override. Right now, there’s security guys spread all over the city wondering why their CCTV screens have gone dead. If they only knew.” He placed a hand on the operator’s shoulder and leaned over to look at the screen. “How are we doing?”
The operator grinned. “We own the city, Mr. Good. Traffic, police CCTV, even the Tube’s automated systems.”
“Listen,” said May, nudging Hack’s arm. He turned his head and strained to hear what she did. In the distance there came the faint sound of horns blaring as the giant traffic jam locked the city down.
It’s starting, he thought.
With the touch of a few buttons, the takeover of London had begun.
27
Sarah watched with concern as the medics from the HIDRA UK base laid her unconscious brother on a stretcher trolley and wheeled him off the stealth jet to the waiting ambulance. She followed them down the ramp. Dr. Fincher placed a hand on her shoulder as the vehicle tore away across the landing strip towards the buildings in the distance.
“Robert will get the best care,” Fincher reassured. “Now you’re here, we can do a proper analysis of whatever’s attacking him.”
She nodded, but didn’t feel much better. Although the last injection had slowed the spread, the black mark from the spider bite had infected Robert’s skin all the way down his left arm by the time they landed the stealth jet, just after 9 a.m. UK time.
“Come on,” Fincher said, leading her round the back of the jet to a jeep. “Let’s get you all some food and clean clothes.”
At the vehicle, Wei and Louise were already in conversation with two familiar faces: Nestor and Octavio. True to form, Louise and Octavio were already sniping over who had the greater telekinetic ability.
“Well, I did levitate a tank last month,” Octavio was saying. “For ten minutes—”
Louise rolled her eyes at Wei. “Lame. Back at that island I used a tank like a fly swatter.”
Nestor gave Sarah a quick hug and said, “Just like old times, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said, looking around for the other member of their group.
“Uh, Alex had something to do,” Nestor said.
“Right. So he’s still mad at me then?”
“Are you still mad at him?”
Sarah shrugged. The last time they’d spoken there had been the usual argument about whether they should actively go looking for Major Bright themselves, or just leave it to HIDRA. Alex had been of the firm opinion that there was no point in waiting for the major to find them – Sarah had disagreed, at that time. After everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, it seemed that Alex had been right – not that she found it easy to admit.
Then there was the added complication of how close they’d become following their adventure in Russia – having faced death together. The time they’d spent on the Ulysses had formed an even stronger bond between them, to the point that it became clear that Alex wanted to be more than just friends… At which point she’d had to disappoint him. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him…it was just she didn’t have time for a boyfriend. She had Robert to look after…a cure had to be found for her father…and her work with HIDRA tracking down other superhuman kids took up all of her energy…
Sarah realized this was an excuse, of course – she didn’t need Lesley the psychologist’s help to work that out. It was hard enough having to worry about Robert and her father and her friends in general, without letting her feelings for Alex get any stronger. She just couldn’t stand the thought of losing another person she cared deeply about, so she’d pushed him away.
Well, there’s no sense in worrying about that now, Sarah told herself. After she’d informed Alex there was no way they were going to be girlfriend and boyfriend, or whatever it was he’d got into his head, the arguments about the direction of the team began to get really bad. There was no going back to the closeness they’d shared before, even if she wanted to. Still, if circumstances had been different – if their lives had been normal, if they’d just met at school or a party rather than fighting for their lives – maybe things could have been different…
Seeing Nestor was waiting for an answer, she deflected the question by asking, “Is it always this cold here?”
Nestor grinned. “Most of the time. Come on. We’d better get you some food and somewhere to rest.”
As they went to the jeep, one of the ground crew swarming over the jet gave a yell from the back of the plane. He’d pulled out an object that had been embedded in the fuselage: a half-metre long piece of jagged, black metal.
“It’s part of the squid!” Wei exclaimed.
“It must have come off when it swiped the jet,” Sarah said.
Dr. Fincher clapped his hands together. “Excellent! Get that to my lab immediately!” As the sample of alien metal was carried away, he turned to Sarah and the others. “Now we can analyse what these machines are made of. Find out how they work.”
“And how we can fight them,” Sarah added.
She found Alex in the recreation room, ferociously batting a ball against a piece of wood set up in the middle of the table-tennis table.
“Louise and Wei were asking after you,” Sarah said from the doorway, by way of announcing her presence.
He jumped in surprise. The table-tennis ball went flying across the room.
“Yeah,” he said with an embarrassed cough. “I was busy.”
“I can see that.”
Alex put the bat down on the table. “I heard about Robert. I’m sorry.”
“He’s not dead, you know,” Sarah said.
Alex reddened. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay. He’s in the intensive care ward on Level 3. He’d like to see you.”
“Sure. I saw the footage of that thing that sank the Ulysses. Looks like you had quite a fight.”
“We did,” Sarah admitted. “Bright and his accomplices have plenty more of those machines. Enough to take on any army. We need to find out what Bright’s up to and get to him before—”
Alex cut her dead. “I thought you didn’t want to get involved any more. Leave the fighting to the soldiers, wasn’t that what you said?”
Sarah sighed and looked away. “Are you going to make me say I was wrong?”
“It would be a start.”
She took a breath, controlling her natural urge to start shouting. She wondered why it was that the people you care most about have the ability to wind you up so easily. “Okay,” she said finally. “I was wrong. I thought that we could be part of HIDRA and not be involved in this war. I wanted to keep us safe, but you can’t hide from your enemies. They always come looking for you. I’ve learned that now.”
“Is that your apology?”
Sarah raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s as much apology as you’re going to get.”
He cracked a grin and she actually found herself smiling too. The tension between them had broken.
“Fine,” Alex said. “The last time we met…uh, sorry for calling you a…”
Sarah raised a hand. “Forget it.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me mad at you all over again. Come on, we need to meet with Fincher.”
They walked side by side out of the rec room and towards the entrance to the lower levels of the base.
“So, now we’re a team again,” Alex said, “what do you want to do?”
Sarah gave him a quick, determined look. “I want to find a cure for my brother. And I want to stop the Entity and Bright. For good this time.” She paused as they walked past the guards and into the lift for the lower levels. “But there’s something else I need to do first.”
Alex paused before he pressed the button for the level with the briefing room. “What?”
“I wa
nt to see Daniel,” she said. “My father. They moved him here.”
Without a word, Alex pressed the button for the level marked Sleeper Containment.
The lift whizzed down and opened onto a corridor that stretched ahead with many doors. Alex crossed to a panel on the wall and inputted Daniel’s name. A map came up, directing them to a room three doors on the left, patient number 345.
“This way,” he said, leading her down the corridor.
“You know your way around,” Sarah said as they reached the door and he swiped his ID card for access. “You’ve been down here before.”
Alex didn’t look round. “My parents are here. They were transported from Australia for observation.”
They walked into another corridor that opened out into a larger chamber stacked with sleeper caskets – the sarcophagus-like containers used to keep the victims of the fall virus coma in a perfectly stable condition. The caskets were stacked high along all sides of the room. As Sarah stepped onto a raised platform, like a viewing deck, she cast her eyes over the rows and shook her head.
“I forgot there were so many,” she said. “There must be five hundred caskets in this room.”
Alex nodded. “And there are over twenty rooms like this.” He said Daniel’s patient number into a control panel on the deck and a pair of robotic arms emerged from the ceiling, deftly removed a casket from the stack and lowered it so that it was directly before them. Sarah walked to the edge of the platform and looked through the casket’s window at the face of the sleeper inside – Daniel, her father. His beard had grown out and he looked strange without his glasses, but otherwise he was just as she remembered. He had only been back in her and Robert’s lives for a short time when the fall virus took him from them, but a strong bond had formed. He’d saved their lives.
“We decided to have him moved here a few months ago,” Sarah explained to Alex. “I was worried about having him on the Ulysses in case something happened to the ship.”
“That was a good instinct,” Alex said. “You can lift the lid if you want. These new caskets allow that for a short time.”
