She shrugged again. “You want my honest opinion?”
“Of course.”
“She’s been perfect,” Price said. “Too perfect, if you know what I mean. Everything she has done has been straight down the line: she gave up the other Fezerkers to get on the team; she saved The Tsar’s life; she’s helped us avoid Bzadian patrols. It all seems designed to get her here. With us, with you, right now. Why? What’s her end game? That’s what I want to know.”
“You don’t think she could be genuine?” Chisnall asked.
“What do you think?” Price asked.
“Time will tell,” Chisnall said.
“That’s a dumb answer,” Price said. “What if it’s too late?”
“Just keep an eye on her,” Chisnall said. “Where are we?”
“Underground parking garage in the Congress,” Price said. “There was a lot of smoke and confusion and I don’t think they’ve realised what just happened. Not yet anyway.”
“Smoke from the fire I started?” Chisnall asked. He had thought the sprinkler system would have taken care of it.
Price smiled. “A little. But the Pukes did this to themselves. They bombed the hell out of Batemans Bay and stared a massive bushfire. It’s heading this way.”
Chisnall sat on the steps of the fire truck as another wave of pain from his arm threatened to overwhelm him.
The emergency mobile command centre was wide and long, crowded and bustling with the number of people who were jammed into it. Radar operators, communications specialists, military coordinators. Most of them seated at consoles or watching video screens. There was a sense of urgency, but not of panic.
When the Congress building had been evacuated, Nokz’z and his staff had immediately relocated to the emergency command centre.
The room smelled faintly of smoke from the forest fires to the east, not quite filtered out by the air-conditioning system. The smell made Nokz’z’s nose itch. He had always been oversensitive to smells.
He worked his way down the length of the room, watching as operators powered up and tested equipment, preparing the truck for use.
Dequorz caught Nokz’z’s attention. He was bent over a console with a radio pressed to his ear.
“Update on the fire, sir. Fire teams have now entered the kitchen and extinguished the seat of the fire. It appears to be under control.”
“Have you received confirmation that Azoh is safe?” Nokz’z asked.
Azoh and her team had retreated to the bunkers deep beneath the building as soon as the fire alarms had sounded.
“Yes, sir,” Dequorz said. “The bunker area is secure. Sprinklers contained the fire to the kitchen and the surrounding corridors.”
“Any word on the cause of the fire?” Nokz’z asked.
“Not yet,” Dequorz said. “The firefighters are currently conducting mopping up operations and building checks. We should be able to return to the building in about thirty minutes. The fire investigators will go in then too.”
“I want to know as soon as possible,” Nokz’z said.
“It was a kitchen fire,” Dequorz said. “A lot of fires start in kitchens.”
“Not in the Congress, they don’t,” Nokz’z said. “If there was the slightest chance that it was deliberately lit, we need to know who did it and why.”
And if it was connected somehow to the loss of the rotorbot at Batemans Bay, he thought.
“Yes, sir,” Dequorz said.
“Goezlin for you, sir,” the Vaza said, right at his elbow.
“Tell him I’ll call him back,” Nokz’z said.
“He’s here,” the Vaza said, indicating the door at the rear of the command centre.
Nokz’z exchanged a glance with the Vaza and shook his head. The last thing he needed was the PGZ commandant poking his nose in where it was not wanted. He strode to the rear, opened the door and stepped down, fixing a firm but polite smile to his face. It was a mask, but it was a mask that he was well practised at. The Vaza followed.
The air was acrid with the smell of smoke. Nokz’z found himself rubbing at his nose, as if to wipe the smell away. He stopped himself. It looked weak.
The commandant of the PGZ was waiting impatiently on the tarmac outside, flanked by a number of his officers, hard-faced and emotionless.
“Ordinarily, Commandant, my time would be yours,” Nokz’z said. “But as you can see we are rather preoccupied. There has been a fire in the building, a bushfire is heading in our direction, and there may be some enemy infiltrators coming in from the coast. I trust you will excuse me.”
Goezlin smiled thinly, a token show of civility.
“A bushfire that you started,” Goezlin said. “A kitchen fire that you failed to prevent, and infiltrators that are already here, inside the secure area.”
Nokz’z bowed his head, as much to conceal his expression as a gesture of apology or deference. When he lifted it the mask was back, firmly in place.
“What are you trying to tell me, Commandant? Infiltrators inside the grounds of the Congress? Not possible. No one is able to get in or out.”
“Except fire appliances,” Goezlin said.
“Of course,” Nokz’z said. “There is a fire.”
“A few moments ago a fire appliance smashed into one of my cars,” Goezlin said. “It was transporting a very important prisoner. That vehicle is now missing, as is my prisoner. Two of my men are in hospital.”
Nokz’z held his face emotionless, but his heart was racing. A bad situation had suddenly got worse. Much worse.
“The fact that they were able to gain access to these grounds so easily makes me wonder if they had help from the inside,” Goezlin said.
“You are not suggesting that I–”
“Of course not. But I should warn you, Colonel, that more mistakes like this will not be tolerated.”
“Of course, Commandant,” Nokz’z said.
This close, one on one, he was suddenly aware of every tiny detail of Goezlin’s face. The fine lines around his eyes – not smile lines. Smiling was surely unknown to this creature with cheekbones so harshly defined they looked like curved scars and the misshapen tongue, one side of which was noticeably shorter than the other.
How he would like to slow roast this thin-faced devil over a hot fire.
“We will find the fire vehicle,” Nokz’z said. “You will have your prisoner back. The perimeter is sealed; they cannot have escaped.”
“You are sure of that?” Goezlin said, and Nokz’z was sure he heard a faint mocking tone.
“We will start the search immediately,” Nokz’z said.
“I’m not kidding, guys,” Wall said, running back from the main entrance, punching numbers into a remote detonator. “We got a lot of company heading our way.”
Barnard arrived back also. “There are no doors leading into the building.”
“Damn,” Price said.
“It’s okay,” Barnard said. “I checked a schematic of the building and there is a maintenance corridor running along the back wall. We should be able to blow our way through.”
“Prepare it,” Price said. “Use det cord. We may be heading that way in a hurry.”
“Did that already,” Barnard said.
Price turned to Chisnall. “What’s going on? We saw you getting arrested.”
The memory of that made Chisnall feel sick to his stomach. Not just because of the prospect of interrogation by the dreaded PGZ. But all the planning, all the risk. It was all for nothing. His carefully created position in the Congress kitchen. All gone. Because he let himself be recognised.
“Do you remember Goezlin?” Chisnall asked. “The PGZ guy we met at Uluru. He saw me.”
“That’s bad,” Price said. “Real bad.”
“It gets worse,” Chisnall said. “There is a group of Bzadians opposed to the war. The Peacemakers. They were the ones protecting me. They wanted me to assassinate Azoh, but I couldn’t go through with it.”
“Holy crap,” Bar
nard said.
“Sorry, guys,” Chisnall said. “I guess that’s it. I blew the mission. I’ve blown everything.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” Price said.
Chisnall looked at her with a raised eyebrow. This was definitely not the same girl who he had led on the Uluru and Magnum missions.
Price saw his expression and smiled grimly. “We’ve come through a lot to get Brogan here. But we did it. We completed our part of the mission. Tell us what the next part is. Let us decide if we can still pull it off.”
“Barnard didn’t tell you?” Chisnall asked.
“I was under strict instructions to tell no one, under any circumstances,” Barnard said. “In case we got captured.”
“And what if you had got captured?” Price asked.
“I have a cyanide pill in a fake tooth,” Barnard said, as matter-of-factly as if she was discussing the weather. “Anyway, all I really knew was to bring the bugging device.”
“Bugging device?” Monster asked.
Barnard tapped a finger on her belt pack. “Disguised as a nutrition bar. I nearly ate it once or twice.”
That earned her a sharp glance from Price. So Barnard did know more than she had admitted. A lot more. Barnard returned Price’s glance with a slightly sheepish expression.
“Show me,” Chisnall said.
Barnard rummaged around in her belt pack, carefully selecting what looked like a normal nutrition bar. She peeled off the wrapper, then broke the bar in two. A small device fell onto her palm, no bigger than a walnut.
“Looks like a thumbtack,” Price said.
“Very low powered,” Barnard said. “Press it into a wall, it changes colour to match that wall. Very hard to spot.”
“ACOG will be able to pick up the signal okay?” Chisnall asked.
Barnard nodded. “It transmits through nearby electrical wires. We have a receiver already in place at the local electricity substation. It communicates in nano-bursts with a geo-stationary satellite. It’s completely undetectable.”
Chisnall took it, examined it, then replaced the bug back in the nutrition bar, sealed the wrapper and handed it to Brogan. Without comment, she put it in her own belt pack.
“Movement by the entrance,” Wall called softly.
“What have you got?” Price asked.
“Couple of soldiers having a quick scout round,” Wall said.
Chisnall peered around the edge of the concrete wall. Two dark figures were examining the garage through the sights of their guns. He pulled his head back as one of them turned in his direction.
“Everybody stay out of sight, and stay frosty. They don’t know we’re here yet,” Price said. “Now Chisnall, talk.”
“Okay,” Chisnall said, thinking how to tell her in as few words as possible. “I’ve been undercover in this building for about six months,” he said. “But there’s one place I can’t go, and that’s Azoh’s quarters.”
“Azoh, the leader of the entire Bzadian race,” Price said.
“The spiritual leader,” Chisnall said.
“Why you want to go see Azoh?” Monster asked.
“I don’t,” Chisnall said. “That’s why Barnard brought the bug.”
“You’re going to bug Azoh’s bedroom?” Price asked.
“Not her bedroom, her meeting chambers,” Chisnall said.
“Wait a second, Azoh is a she?” Price asked.
Chisnall nodded. “Not all that much older than us, from the look of her. Every major decision the Bzadians make goes to her for advice and a kind of blessing. If we could bug her meeting room, then ACOG would have inside knowledge of everything the Bzadians are planning to do and when they are planning to do it.”
“So where are these quarters?” Price asked.
“Below us,” Chisnall said. “There are basements and sub-basements. The deepest levels form a kind of bunker system where Azoh resides.”
“And how exactly do you plan to get in?” Price asked. “I’m thinking they are not just going to let you waltz inside.”
“That’s why Brogan is here,” Chisnall said.
“You’re sure the yellow fire truck didn’t leave the grounds?” Nokz’z asked.
Dequorz nodded. “The perimeter guards saw it enter, but it has not left.”
“Then they are here somewhere,” Goezlin said behind him.
“It does not show anywhere on the feed from the surveillance craft,” Dequorz said.
“They have to be in the parking garage,” Nokz’z said. “There’s nowhere else. Get a team in there right now.”
“One team may not be enough,” Goezlin said.
“My soldiers are very competent,” Nokz’z said.
“Of course they are,” Goezlin said. There was that mocking tone again, or was it just Nokz’z’s imagination? “But I believe we may be dealing with Angels.”
Nokz’z forced a smile to cover the grinding of his teeth. As he had suspected. Angels. He had a score to settle with them. “Send two teams,” he said. “Is there any way from the garage to back inside the building?”
“None,” Dequorz said. “There is only one way in or out, and that is via the entrance ramp.”
“Good,” Nokz’z said. He turned to Goezlin. “Who is this prisoner that is so important to you?”
“That is not something you need to know,” Goezlin said.
“I beg to differ,” Nokz’z said. “It is my men who are tasked with recapturing the prisoner. We should know who we are dealing with.”
“His name is Chizna,” Goezlin said.
He had volunteered that information too easily, Nokz’z thought. Why? “This Chizna was at Uluru,” he said.
“Now a spy,” Goezlin said.
“Inside the Congress?” Nokz’z asked.
Goezlin nodded. “How long has he been there? What secrets has he discovered? I need to talk to him.”
There was a slight emphasis on the word “talk” that completely altered its meaning. Nokz’z felt he would not want to be “talked” to by Goezlin. A fantasy flitted across his mind in which he was the head of the PGZ and Goezlin was strapped to a chair in front of him. He pushed the thought aside.
“Is it not your job to catch spies before they can do us damage?” Nokz’z asked, and regretted the words immediately.
Goezlin turned to face him, turning his head to the left and right like a bird eyeing up a morsel. His pupils were jet black and coldly knowing.
“It is indeed my job and I caught him,” Goezlin said. “But it was your job to keep spies out and it is a job you have not done well. Now, again, thanks to you, he is on the loose. I want him alive. If he is killed, the consequences for you will not be pleasant.”
The sound of gunshots came from the far end of the building.
“We just ran out of time!” Wall shouted over the gunfire, echoing from the hard concrete surfaces of the garage. The walls around them spat stone chips and puffs of grey dust.
The Angels returned fire, the gunfire from both sides combining into a deafening orchestra of percussion.
“That’s it, Price.” Chisnall had to shout to be heard above the thunder. “The mission is blown. We have to try to get out of here.”
“Okay. Everybody get ready to move,” Price said. “Monster, you grab The Tsar. Barnard, when Wall destroys the main entrance, blow us a back door at the same time, so they don’t hear two explosions. We’ll hide out until the raid.”
“What raid?” Chisnall asked. He didn’t get an answer.
“Hide where?” Wall asked, emptying almost a full clip at the entrance. He ducked down as the car that was protecting him shuddered under heavy fire. He held up the detonator control and flipped off the safety switch.
“There’s a tunnel system,” Price said. “Links up a few of the old buildings. We can get to the former American Embassy building, outside the cordoned off area. We don’t think the Pukes know about the tunnels. This was supposed to be our escape route after the mission.”
>
“What is embassy used for now?” Monster asked.
“Communications,” Barnard said. “Central communications centre for the Bzadian military.”
“Just pen-pushers and PowerPoint rangers,” Price said. “We should be able to deal with them.”
“Before we go anywhere, what’s this about a raid?” Chisnall asked again. “Bilal didn’t say anything about a raid.”
“He wouldn’t have. It’s ‘need to know’. But you don’t think they sent us in here without a return ticket?” Price said. “We got some new jets, real fast. They’re going to hit Canberra at midday. We escape in the confusion.”
“How is that your return ticket?” Chisnall asked.
“In the aftermath of the raid there will be a lot of medivac rotorcraft flying around,” Price said. “One of them will be ours, and we’ll be on it.”
“Like at Uluru,” Chisnall said.
“Exactly,” Price said.
“What about me?” Brogan asked.
“My orders were to bring you here,” Price said. “They didn’t include taking you home. But I guess that’s a possibility.”
“They haven’t given you much time,” Chisnall said.
“We’ve got till noon,” Price said. “We were supposed to deliver Brogan to you at 0900. That gave us three hours to get clear. We’re a little behind schedule.”
“Just a little,” Barnard said.
“Ready to rock and roll,” Wall said, punching a code into his detonator. “On my count, Barnard. Blowing the entrance in three …”
“Everybody get on the ground, take cover,” Price called.
“Wait!” Chisnall said.
“Got no time to wait,” Price said.
“Two,” Wall said.
“Let me think,” Chisnall said.
“Got no time to think,” Price said.
“No, you don’t understand,” Chisnall said. “The Pukes are a whisker away from blowing us all to hell.”
“Wall, wait,” Price ordered.
“Nukes?” Monster asked.
“I don’t have time to explain it now,” Chisnall said. “But they’re real close to the edge. An attack on Canberra would nudge them over.”
“Then ACOG will retaliate,” Price said.
Vengeance Page 12
