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Area 7 ss-2

Page 43

by Matthew Reilly


  gnarled piece of Nighthawk 2's tail rotor embedded in its side.

  Amazingly, however, one object remained untouched

  by the day's mayhem.

  Marine One.

  It still stood on the western side of the aircraft elevator

  shaft, miraculously intact.

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  Matthew Reilly

  As their elevator jolted to a halt inside the hangar,

  Schofield and Gant looked about themselves cautiously.

  11:02.

  "The self-destruct computer is in the control room,"

  Gant said.

  "Then that's where we're going," Schofield said, heading

  for the internal building.

  "Wait a minute," Gant said, stopping suddenly, her eyes

  scanning the debris-covered floor around them.

  "We don't have a minute," Schofield said.

  "You go, then," Gant said. "Call me if you need any

  help. I'm gonna try something."

  "Okay," Schofield said, charging off toward the internal

  building.

  Gant, meanwhile, dropped to her knees and started

  searching through the bodies and debris around the mini elevator platform.

  schofield burst inside the lower floor of the internal

  building, leading with his Desert Eagle.

  He hit the stairs on the fly, charged up them. For the first

  time that day, he actually felt in control. He had the lock down code--10502--and now all he had to do was punch it

  into the computer and disarm the nuke.

  Then he would have plenty of time to find Caesar--whose men were now history--before he killed himself, and

  drag him out of Area 7 to face justice.

  11:03.

  Schofield came to the control room door, pushed it

  open, his gun leveled in front of him.

  What he saw took him completely by surprise.

  There, sitting in a swivel chair in the middle of the destroyed

  command room, waiting for Schofield and smiling

  broadly at him, was Caesar Russell.

  "I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT BE BACK," CAESAR SAID.

  He was unarmed.

  "You know, Captain," he said, "a man like you is wasted

  on this country. You're clever, you've got courage, and

  you'll do whatever it takes to win, including the bizarre

  and the illogical, such as saving me. You and your efforts

  would be unappreciated by the ignorant fools who make up

  this nation. Which is why," he sighed, "it is such a shame

  that you have to die."

  It was then that the gun cocked next to Schofield's head

  Schofield turned--

  --to see Major Kurt Logan standing behind him, his silver

  SIG-Sauer pistol pointed right at Schofield's temple.

  11:04.

  "Come in," Caesar said. "Come in."

  Logan relieved Schofield of his Desert Eagle as the two

  of them stepped into the destroyed control room.

  "Come and watch America's death sentence," Caesar

  waved at an illuminated screen behind him. It was like the one Schofield had seen outside. It read:

  LOCKDOWN PROTOCOL S.A.(R) 7A

  FAILSAFE SYSTEM ENACTED

  AUTH CODE: 7-3-468201103

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  Matthew Reilly

  ***************

  'WARNING"

  ***************

  EMERGENCY PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.

  IF YOU DO NOT ENTER AN AUTHORIZED LOCKDOWN

  EXTENSION OR TERMINATION CODE BY 1105

  HOURS, FACILITY SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE WILL

  BE ACTIVATED. SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE DURATION:

  10:00 MINUTES.

  **************** yu a pMlMft*****************

  Schofield saw a clock at the bottom corner of the computer

  screen ticking upward.

  11:04:29.

  11:04:30.

  11:04:31.

  "Tick-tick-tick," Caesar said deliciously. "How frustrating

  this must be for you, Captain. No clever plans to save

  you now, no space shuttles, no secret exits. Once the ten

  minute self-destruct sequence is set in motion, nothing can

  stop it from going off. I will die, and so will you, and so, too, will America."

  The clock on the screen ticked upward.

  Covered by Logan, Schofield could only watch helplessly

  as it approached 11:05 a.m.

  11:04:56.

  11:04:57.

  Schofield clenched his fists with frustration.

  He knew the code! He knew it. But he couldn't use it.

  And where the hell was Gant? What was she doing?

  11:04:58.

  11:04:59.

  11:05:00.

  "Lift-off," Caesar smiled.

  "Shit," Schofield said.

  The screen beeped.

  Area 7 453

  LOCKDOWN PROTOCOL S.A.(R) 7A

  FACILITY SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE ACTIVATED.

  10:00 MINUTES TO DETONATION.

  A blinking countdown commenced on the screen.

  10:00.

  9:59.

  9:58.

  At that very same moment, an army of battery-powered

  revolving red lights exploded to life throughout the complex

  --inside the main hangar, down in the aircraft elevator

  shaft, even inside the control room.

  An electronic voice boomed out from an emergency PA

  system.

  "Warning. Ten minutes to facility self-destruct ..."

  And just then--as they were bathed in strobing red

  light--Schofield saw Kurt Logan take his eyes off him, just

  for a split second, to look out at the lights.

  Schofield took the chance.

  He drove his body into Logan's, sending both of them

  crashing against a computer console.

  Logan brought his gun around, but Schofield grabbed

  his wrist and banged it down against the console, causing

  the 7th Squadron commander to release the pistol.

  Caesar just sat back, grinning with satisfaction, watching

  the fight in front of him with mad delight.

  Schofield and Logan fought hard, covered in red emergency

  lighting. They looked like mirror images, two elite

  soldiers who had studied from the same manual, exchanging

  identical blows, employing identical evasive moves.

  But Schofield was exhausted from his previous battle

  with Lucifer and he unleashed a loose swing which Logan punished without mercy.

  He ducked beneath Schofield's wayward blow and then

  tackled him around the waist, lifting Schofield clear off the

  ground and driving him backwards toward the shattered

  windows of the control room.

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  Schofield blasted out through the destroyed windows of

  the command room, back-first, flying through the air. He

  shut his eyes and waited for the crushing impact with the

  floor thirty feet below.

  It never came.

  Instead, his fall was unexpectedly short.

  Thud!

  Schofield slammed down on a rough wooden surface

  that rocked beneath his weight.

  He opened his eyes.

  He was lying on top of one of the enormous wooden

  cargo crates that hung from the main hangar's ceiling mounted rail network.

  It had been parked just outside the control room, a little

  to the left, allowing the command center a clear view of the

  hangar.

  A triangle of thick chains connected the massive crate

  to the overhead rail system six fee
t above it. The chains were

  held together by a spring-loaded ring mechanism not unlike

  the closable circular latch one finds on a necklace.

  Attached to the ring mechanism was a square control

  unit made up of three big buttons which presumably moved

  the crate back and forth along the rails.

  Then suddenly, the crate rocked wildly and Schofield

  looked up to see that Kurt Logan had jumped out onto it after

  him.

  DOWN ON THE HANGAR FLOOR, LIBBY GANT HAD HEARD THE

  crash of breaking glass and snapped to look up.

  She had just found what she was looking for amid the

  debris on the floor when she saw Schofield come exploding

  out through the control room's windows and land hard on

  the wooden crate suspended high above the hangar floor.

  Then she saw Kurt Logan jump out through the window,

  and land easily on the crate next to him.

  "No ..." Gant breathed.

  She drew her gun, but abruptly, a barrage of bullet

  impact-sparks lit up the floor all around her.

  Area 7 455

  She dived for cover behind a couple of dead bodies.

  When she finally looked up, she saw Caesar Russell leaning

  out from the destroyed control room windows, brandishing a

  P-90 and yelling, "No, no, no! A fair fight, please!"

  "warning. nine minutes to facility self-destruct ..."

  Up on the wooden crate, Logan kneeled astride

  Schofield, hit him hard in the face.

  "You've made today a lot harder than it had to be, Captain."

  His face gleamed with anger in the strobelike red light.

  Another punch. Hard.

  Schofield's head slammed back against the crate, his

  nose gushing with blood.

  Logan then grabbed the control unit above his head and

  hit a button.

  With a jolt and a sway and the clanking of mechanical

  gears, the crate began to move out across the hangar,

  toward the open aircraft elevator shaft. It was petrol

  powered, so it hadn't been affected by the complex's power

  loss.

  As the crate began to glide out over the hangar, Logan kept pounding Schofield, talking as he did so.

  "You know, I remember--"

  Punch.

  "--taking out you Marine pussies at the annual

  war games--"

  Punch.

  "--Too fucking easy. You're a disgrace--"

  Punch.

  "--to the country, to the flag, and to your fucking bitch

  whore mothers."

  Punch.

  Schofield could barely keep his eyes open.

  Christ, he was getting his ass kicked ...

  And then the crate swung out over the four-hundredfoot-deep

  aircraft elevator shaft and Logan pressed a button

  on the control unit, stopping it.

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  Matthew Reilly

  The big crate swung to a halt directly above the wide,

  yawning shaft.

  "Warning. Eight minutes to facility self-destruct ..."

  Schofield peered over the edge of the crate, saw the

  shaft's concrete walls, now lined with revolving red lights,

  plummeting like four matching vertical cliffs down into bottomless

  black.

  "Good-bye, Captain Schofield," Logan said, as he lifted

  Schofield by his lapels and stood him at the edge of the

  crate.

  Schofield--battered, bloody, bruised and exhausted-- couldn't resist. He stood unsteadily at the edge of the crate,

  the great hole of the elevator shaft yawning wide beneath

  him.

  He thought about the Maghook on his back, but then

  saw the ceiling. It was made of sheer flat fiberglass. The

  Maghook wouldn't stick to it with its magnet, nor could it

  get a purchase on it with its hook.

  In any case, he didn't have any energy left to fight.

  No more guns.

  No more Maghooks.

  No more ejection seats.

  He had nothing that Logan didn't have more of.

  And then, just as Logan was about to push him off the

  edge of the crate, Schofield saw Gant--a shadow amid the

  redness--saw her taking cover behind some bodies next to

  the eastern rim of the elevator shaft.

  Except friends ...

  He turned suddenly to face Logan ...

  ... and to Logan's complete surprise, he smiled, and

  raised his open palm, revealing his Secret Service microphone.

  Schofield then looked Logan deep in the eye and said,

  "Sydney Harbour Bridge, Gant. You take the negative."

  Logan frowned. "Huh?"

  And then before Logan could even think to do anything,

  with his last ounce of strength, Schofield reached over

  area 7 457

  Logan's shoulder and unlatched the spring-loaded ring mechanism

  holding the crate to the overhead rail system.

  The result was instantaneous.

  In a kind of hellish slow motion that was only accentuated

  by the strobing red lighting, the crate--with both

  Schofield and Logan on it--just fell away from its ceiling

  mounted rails, spilling the two combatants off its back ...

  ... and the three of them--Schofield, Logan and the

  crate itself--dropped together into the four-hundred-foot

  abyss of the elevator shaft.

  SCHOFIELD FELL THROUGH THE AIR.

  Fast.

  At first he saw the red-lit hangar rushing past him,

  swinging upwards--then suddenly that image was replaced

  by the rim of the elevator shaft, swooshing by him as he

  dropped into the shaft itself. Then all he saw were rapidly

  rushing concrete walls speeding by in a blur of gray and he

  glanced up and saw the wide square up at the top of the shaft

  shrinking very, very quickly above him.

  He saw Logan falling beside him, a look of absolute terror

  on his face. It looked as if Logan couldn't believe what

  Schofield had just done.

  He'd just dropped both of them into the shaft, crate and

  all!

  Schofield, however, just prayed that Gant had heard him.

  And as he fell through the air, surrounded by red light,

  he coolly unslung his Maghook, initiated its magnet, selected

  a positive charge, and looked up in search of his only

  hope.

  gant had heard his call.

  Now she lay on her stomach on the rim of the shaft,

  aiming her own Maghook--now charged negatively--down

  into it.

  "Scarecrow," she said into her radio mike, "you fire

  first. I'll make the shot."

  AS HE FELL DOWN THE ELEVATOR SHAFT, SCHOFIELD FIRED HIS positively charged Maghook into the air.

  Area 7 459

  It rocketed up the shaft--flying perfectly vertical--its

  tail rope wobbling through the air behind it.

  Kurt Logan, falling alongside Schofield, saw what he

  was doing and yelled, "No ...!"

  "Come on, Fox," Schofield whispered. "Don't let me

  die."

  libby gant's eyes narrowed as she gazed down the barrel

  of her Maghook.

  Despite all the distractions around her--the flashing red

  lights, the klaxons, the droning electronic warning voice--

  she drew a bead on Schofield's flying Maghook: an arcing

  dot of glinting metal shooting up out of the blackness of the

  shaf
t, coming toward her.

  "Nothing's impossible," she whispered to herself.

  Then, cool as ice, she pulled the trigger on her own

  Maghook.

  Whump!

  The bulbous magnetic head of her Maghook shot out of

  its launcher, rushed down into the shaft, trailing its own

  length of rope.

  schofield's maghook shot up the shaft.

  Gant's Maghook shot down the shaft.

  Schofield fell, with Logan and the crate beside him.

  Gant rode her Maghook all the way down. "Come on, baby. Come on ..." Since they were oppositely charged, they'd only have to pass by close to each other to--

  Clang!

  The two Maghooks hit--in midair--like twin missiles

  slamming into each other in the sky!

  The Sydney Harbour Bridge.

  Their powerful magnetic charges held them firmly together,

  and up in the hangar, Gant quickly hooked her

  launcher into a grate in the floor.

  Two maghooks equals three hundred feet of rope.

  And a three-hundred-foot fall means one hell of a jolt.

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  Matthew Reilly

  When he saw Gant's flying magnetic hook connect with

  his own, Schofield--still falling fast--slung his launcher

  under his shoulders and around his chest. Then he tensed his

  arms around the rope, bracing himself for the impending

  jolt.

  This was going to hurt.

  it hurt.

  With an outrageous snap, the ropes of the two

  Maghooks went taut and Schofield bounced up into the air,

  yanked upward like a skydiver opening his parachute-- while below him, Kurt Logan and the wooden crate just kept

  on falling, and slammed into the aircraft platform below

  them.

  The wooden crate just exploded, its walls shattering

  into splinters as it hit the platform.

  Logan met a similar fate.

  He landed hard--screaming--on the jagged remains of

  the AWACS plane that still littered the elevator platform. His

  head was separated from his shoulders as his throat hit an

  upwardly pointed piece of wing. The rest of his body just flattened with the phenomenal impact, splatting like a

  tomato when it hit the platform.

  As for Schofield, after he was snapped upwards by the

  ropes of the two Maghooks, he swung in toward the side

  wall of the shaft. He slammed into it heavily, bounced off it,

 

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