by RR Haywood
Harry looks at Emily again, thinking of last night and realising, despite the angst of his loss of honour, that he actually feels better for the night out and such is his focus on staring out the window that he doesn’t see the debris and dust pushing through the portal behind him and doesn’t detect the change in air flow over his hand hovering in the portal room holding the lit cigarette. He doesn’t know one of the feathered heads drops towards him then veers off at the last second from the foul stench of the cigarette smoke curling up its nose.
He only becomes aware when a foot the size of a washing machine slams into his back, sending him flying across the hut to crash through the doors and down the bank.
‘Harry!’ Emily calls out, on her feet and running flat out while drawing her pistol.
Harry rolls as he lands and comes up on one knee with his pistol out and aimed at the huge foot battering the portal that stretches wider and higher as the rest of the body on the other side knocks the poles aside in the portal room. More of the creature comes through, slamming into the walls of the hut, smashing them apart and making the people in the park cry out and stop to watch.
‘Oh shit,’ Emily says, getting to Harry’s side.
‘UNKNOWN ADULT FEMALE. THE USE OF REVOLTING, ABUSIVE OR INSULTING WORDS IS PROHIBITED IN THIS PUBLIC PLACE.’
One of the attacking dinosaurs falls through the portal to land heavily in the hut, screeching and getting back up and spotting the big foot waggling about. It takes a lunge and bites deep. The big female cries out with a sound unheard by Harry and Emily and draws the foot back, dragging the other creature with it. The portal stretches wider, making shapes that distort and change as the poles get kicked and pushed about. The foot comes back down with the creature still attached by the mouth. Then the big female’s tail slashes through, smashing the walls of the hut down and sending chunks of machinery flying off through the park.
Malcolm and Konrad run. They run at the sight of the motorhome being obliterated from the inside, glimpsing huge legs and creatures with tails. They hear the screeching and the metallic sides banging and the chassis creaking, then stop dead at the sight of a huge evil-looking feathered head dripping blood from rows of oversized teeth. An eye like a lizard, yellow and black, staring through the windscreen.
‘MALC,’ Konrad yells, ditching his bags to stop his friend charging in.
‘Ria’s in there . . . RIA’S IN THERE . . .’
‘Hang on, you bloody idiot,’ Konrad says, heaving him back. The windscreen blows out, the sides buckle and split with a noise so loud it will surely draw people here. As the sides break apart they see the Red distorting, seemingly bending and stretching with things coming through then going back and everything happening so fast the two men can only watch with hearts racing.
‘WHAT THE HELL?’ a deep American voice bellows from behind them. A red-faced overweight man waddling between the rows of parked motorhomes towards the devastation being wrought.
‘RIA? RIA?’ Malcolm lunges forward again with Konrad fighting to hold him back and seeing an elephant’s foot the size of a washing machine suddenly yank back and away through the Red. The feathered creature goes after it as the Red ceases to be, severing the predator neatly in half with the arse, legs and tail falling in chunks on the ruined motorhome floor.
‘RIA?’ Malcolm roars.
‘We gotta go,’ Konrad says, snatching a glimpse of people running towards them. ‘Malc . . . we gotta go . . .’
‘COMING IN HOT . . . BE READY TO GO . . .’ Safa shouts into the radio, running behind Ben down the path in Hyde Park towards the hut. ‘POLICE . . . MOVE AWAY . . . POLICE MOVE AWAY.’ She reverts to her training, shouting at people to move as yet more blue-and-red flashing lights come gliding towards them through the air.
More shots in the air and she spots the drones ahead over Harry and Emily and the hut smashed to bits.
‘ARMED FEMALE. ARMED MALE. UNKNOWN SUBJECTS. DISARM NOW. DISARM NOW . . .’
A drone over Harry’s head lights him up with red dots until Emily aims and fires with a double tap that makes it spin away and the crowd gathered to watch scream out and run while the gardener’s hut obliterates from the frantic motions of the dinosaurs popping in and out of existence.
The Blue goes off. The poles crushed under the weight of the big female thrashing to stay alive. More drones come flying in. Sirens in the distance too with bigger vehicles aiming for the five staring in shock at the ruined hut.
A deeper siren fills the air, making them look up as larger manned craft come flying towards them with panels on their undersides sliding away as barrelled weapons drop down into view.
Emily looks down at her body, seeing the red lasers on her and Harry and the others. ‘Targeting system,’ she mutters. ‘TARGETING SYSTEM . . .’ She screams the warning as a deep boom comes from behind them. The unmistakable sound of a Barrett fifty-calibre rifle firing that sends a round into the manned craft, making it slew off into the park as it loses height, crashing down into trees and bushes with a deafening crash.
The five spin round to see the Blue portal shining in the night air a few metres away from the ruins of the hut. A lone figure standing silhouetted with a rifle braced in her shoulder that sends a recoil through her body as she fires at the drones.
‘MOVE NOW . . . GET THROUGH.’ A female voice, harsh and angry.
They run fast with Miri taken off her feet from being launched by Harry through the portal as the others crash into the silence of another world. Ben, Safa and Miri heaving for air from the run while Emily and Harry gather their wits and stare at the woman holding the Barrett, who comes in last to deactivate the portal.
‘What the fuck?’ Ben gasps, bent over with his hands on his knees.
‘Wait here.’ The woman who saved them thumbs the tablet, reactivating the light, then steps out of sight. A second or two of silence before Malcolm comes staggering through followed by Konrad, both gibbering and talking too fast and too rushed as the woman steps through after them and shuts the portal off once again. ‘You’re safe,’ she says bluntly.
A tanned woman with dark hair held back by a strip of material tied round her head. Her frame lean and hard with defined muscles showing in her shoulders and white livid scars criss-crossing her tanned face and arms. Black combat boots scuffed and worn. Black combat trousers and a tight black vest patched with material sewn in and a German SS dagger tucked into a scabbard on her belt. A pistol on her hip and the look of a battle-hardened warrior. She lowers the Barrett, handling the heavy weight with ease as the others stare on in stunned silence.
‘Jesus,’ Malcolm whispers. ‘Wh . . . what happened?’
The woman lifts her chin to show a complete lack of fear as she stares back without a flicker of a reaction. ‘Happened?’ Ria asks. ‘Two years happened . . .’
Seventeen
The Complex
‘Let me read it to you,’ she says petulantly, adding a little foot stamp that makes her breasts jiggle enticingly. ‘Stop gawping at my boobs.’
‘Stamp your foot again,’ Alpha says, smiling at her while lying back on his bed.
‘Alpha!’ she snaps, bursting out laughing halfway before suddenly deciding a new tactic is needed and drops to land with her hands on the edge of the bed, fluttering her eyelids seductively.
‘Got something in your eye?’ he asks.
‘Idiot,’ she snorts. ‘I’m being seductive.’ She straddles his thighs as his hands come up to gently stroke her legs. ‘Please let me read it. It’s for Mother . . . You know she scares the shit out of me.’
‘Go for it,’ Alpha says.
‘Great!’ She reaches back for the tablet she dropped on the bed, bringing it round while clearing her throat. ‘Eyes up, buster . . .’
‘Yep,’ he says, looking up with a grin.
She clears her throat again, checks he is watching, swats his chest when he isn’t and starts reading the report from the screen. ‘My conclusion is that although I sanct
ioned the Affa mission in the first place, in hindsight it was a stupid thing to do. It had no real purpose and only served to confuse everything. I think we were all somewhat bedazzled by the prospect of having a time machine. We can, however, draw some positives from the exercise and I would suggest we treat it as such, an exercise, and . . .’
Alpha watches her speaking, the way her mouth forms the words. He likes the tone of her voice and the intelligence that shines through her playful exterior. This is the longest time Alpha has spent with a member of the opposite sex since joining the British Secret Service. It’s not even a secret within the complex that he is seeing Kate. Everyone knows it. She sleeps in his bed every night. Her company is so easy and relaxed and the wonder she shows at everything is captivating.
‘Well?’ she asks him, biting her bottom lip when she finishes.
‘You’ve got a doctorate in history.’
‘Yeah, I know, but this is Mother. She’ll hang me upside down and whip me if it’s bad . . .’
‘Take out the bit where you said it was a stupid thing to do. It was Mother’s idea to run that mission so don’t call her stupid and re-word or remove the section where you say, “I think we were all somewhat bedazzled by the prospect of having a time machine.” Take that out. It’s subjective and not necessary. Mother likes short reports as brief as possible. She processes a ton of data every day so yours will be one of many . . . but it’s your report. Ignore me if you want . . . Now get up and dance for me, woman.’
‘You sod,’ she laughs, ditching the tablet to drop down and snuggle into him. ‘How can you be so calm?’
He shrugs but doesn’t answer.
‘Can I ask a question?’ she whispers into his ear.
‘Sure.’
‘Mother said we’re not allowed to ask questions.’
‘It’s fine,’ he replies quietly.
‘Does this mission bother you?’ she whispers, breathing hot air past his ear, which makes his skin prickle, but the sensation is pleasant and he turns his head to kiss her cheek.
‘No.’
‘None of it?’ she asks.
‘It’s a mission.’
She goes quiet for a moment, her hand moving up to trace circles on his chest. ‘It’s weird being in here, like it’s not real out there now. Like this is the only real life and everything else is . . . is unreal. You mind me asking more questions?’
‘Are you a spy?’ he asks.
‘No, but I want to know the man I’m in love with.’
He turns to look at her, holding eye contact at the first subtle declaration of an emotional connection. She stares back with something close to defiance in her eyes that hides the fear of what she just said. ‘Ask me anything,’ he says softly, kissing her cheek again.
‘You’re going to kill so many people,’ she whispers. ‘British people . . . How do you cope with that?’
He doesn’t reply at first, but reflects on the question as she studies his features. ‘We’re trained,’ he says simply. ‘We’re experienced, we’re capable and we’re all psychologically tested to make sure we can cope, and we all have ways of dealing with stress. Bravo plays chess and finds an audience to make jokes with. Echo blows things up. Delta sleeps with as many women as he can find. Charlie works out and . . .’
‘And?’ she presses when he trails off.
‘And I have you,’ he whispers. ‘Now sleep, busy day tomorrow . . .’
A touching moment. Trite and clichéd. Mother tuts in her office and reaches over to end the link to the listening device in Alpha’s room. Listening to them fuck is one thing, but declarations of love make her want to puke. She switches the various tablets, screens and devices off and walks briskly from her office through to her private room because, as Alpha said, they have a busy day tomorrow.
Tomorrow comes as any other within the complex with a thick, palpable tension hanging in the air as the workers go through last-minute notes and plans.
Tension in the armoury too where Alpha meets the other four agents to get dressed and prepared in silence. Their minds now on the mission at hand.
They leave the armoury together, walking down the corridor towards the portal room. Five agents dressed in full black combat rig with their balaclavas rolled up. That image sears into the minds of the people they pass, who go quiet with sudden nerves at the reality of the mission. Pistols in holsters, grenades and magazines in pouches. Sub-machine guns fitted with suppressors slung to the rear. Menacing, capable and a stark reminder of who these men are.
‘Ah,’ Gunjeep states, taking them in as they enter the portal room. ‘The men in black are here.’ His joke falls flat in the nervous air.
‘Any issues overnight?’ Alpha asks.
‘Negative,’ Mother replies, standing with her arms folded watching the green shimmering light.
Alpha looks at his four colleagues, taking in the steady gazes and expressions of readiness. He doesn’t need to ask if they are good to go. He nods once. They nod back. Enough said.
‘Ready?’ Gunjeep asks as the five walk to the portal. ‘We’ll be standing by to receive,’ he adds with a look at the team of white-lab-coat-wearing workers at the side of the room. ‘Activating . . .’ The five reach up to roll their balaclavas down and bring the sub-machines ready in front. ‘Go,’ Gunjeep says.
Alpha leads from the brightly lit complex into another brightly lit complex. From a room full of white-lab-coat-wearing people into another room full of white-lab-coat-wearing people, but these cry out at the shock of the green light and the five men striding through it.
The five don’t hesitate but open fire the second they come through. Delta and Echo turn to shoot down the armed guards on the large metal sliding door. Charlie and Bravo take out the scientists and workers clustered in the middle while Alpha aims for those running for the other door.
Screams and yells of pain and terror mix with the soft sounds of the modern suppressors and within seconds over twenty people lie dead and bleeding.
‘Echo, on you,’ Alpha says.
‘On it.’ Echo strides to the big bulging object in the middle of the room while the others range out and hold position, aiming at the sliding door, which grinds with gears as it starts opening. The four fire at the soldiers the second the door opens while Echo focuses on checking the mechanics and electrics. ‘Yep, it’s set,’ he reports. ‘Delta, get them through . . .’
‘Roger,’ Delta says. He walks to the portal, leans through and points at the team of workers waiting in the room. They burst forward, all of them clearly nervous with worried expressions, but they do as drilled and go through to flinch and blanch at the bodies in the room and the dead soldiers slumped in the open doorway. ‘Get it through,’ Delta orders calmly. The men and women rush to heave the huge object on the wheeled platform towards the portal, which widens in size. The agents fall back as they go through, stepping one by one into the complex.
‘Shut it down,’ Alpha orders.
‘De-activating,’ Gunjeep announces, shutting the portal off.
Everyone stares at it. The size, the shape, the weirdness of it. The technology it’s made from is so old and dangerous that the prospect of it being in the complex is terrifying.
The agents change clothing. Removing the black combat gear and getting into new uniforms and boots. Within minutes they step out and only have to wait a short time for a bearded technician to step back with a thumbs up. ‘Ready,’ he declares.
‘Activating,’ Gunjeep says. The green light comes back on. Alpha goes forward, checking the destination is clear before leaning back out.
‘Clear.’ He moves out of the way, going further into the truck as the workers wheel in the sliding trolley, making the truck sink on its springs. The workers fasten it in place with straps while the agents come through and make ready with Alpha and Bravo taking position in the cab of the truck and the other three staying in the back.
The workers go back, the green light goes off and Charlie bangs on the bulk
head. Alpha starts the engine and drives the heavy diesel truck out of the disused barn and down a wide lane threading between bare winter trees and snow-covered banks.
‘It’s bloody cold,’ Bravo says, rubbing his hands together.
‘Very cold,’ Alpha replies, manhandling the steering wheel to keep the truck on course.
‘Having fun?’ Bravo asks, glancing across.
‘Like driving a bloody tank,’ Alpha says.
‘We’ve driven tanks – this is worse than a tank,’ Bravo observes.
‘Just watch out for potholes,’ Alpha says.
‘How’s Kate?’ Bravo asks after another few minutes of silence broken by the dull roar of the engine.
‘Good,’ Alpha says, glancing across. Before this mission, he and Bravo would never have shared a question about their private lives or their personal business. ‘She read a report to me last night that Mother asked her to prepare.’
‘She read it to the rest of us this morning over breakfast while you were with Mother,’ Bravo says. ‘She said to tell you she took out the stupid comment.’
In the back of the truck, Charlie and Delta share glances at being so close to the object in the back of a bouncing truck.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ Echo tells them. ‘If it goes pop we won’t know a thing.’
‘That’s reassuring,’ Charlie replies.
Alpha eases the speed down as they near the barrier and watches the sentries stride out with their machine guns held ready. The soldiers look drained and gaunt, but then almost six years of war will do that to anyone.
‘You have it?’ the German officer asks, stopping at the side of the truck to look up at Alpha.
‘Oh yes,’ Alpha replies in German. ‘Open the barrier.’
‘OPEN,’ the officer calls out.
The truck goes through, snaking between buildings and vehicles to the edge of the runway and the single heavy bomber waiting there. The Affa effect shows in everything from the names of the guns to the aircraft. The Nazi heavy bombers in their timeline were Heinkels, but are now something else. Nearly everything is jarred and off-centre. Not that it matters. Not after today. They pull up and wait for the German workers to operate winches and machinery to lift the contents from the truck and into the aircraft.
