♦
Colonel Samson ducked as a sword whistled past his visor and then swayed back as a second cleaved his beam weapon in two. Samson threw the broken rifle to the floor then charged the assassin, who pirouetted away and sliced a blade down Samson’s armoured back.
Warning messages appeared on the colonel’s visor, but he had no time to attend to them as he rolled away from another assault.
Automatic gunfire erupted from behind, as Darklight chased the assassin around a corner. Someone called out for Samson to fall back, but his blood was up.
‘Weapon!’ he shouted, and Captain Radcliffe threw him his rifle. Samson caught it neatly, then set off in pursuit of his prey.
♦
John Henry clambered to his feet and then found himself being ushered into the bunker by a Darklight soldier, where his abductors awaited him.
‘Close the door!’ Jessica said.
‘What about Samson?’ Radcliffe said.
‘My father can take care of himself.’ Brett moved to close the blast door, but it ground to a halt halfway.
Jessica moved closer. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s jammed.’ Brett hauled on the handle and Radcliffe and his mercenaries tried to assist, but it still wouldn’t budge.
‘There’s something in the hinge,’ Brett said, reaching for it.
‘Don’t touch it!’ Radcliffe hauled her away. ‘It’s a bomb. Everyone, get down!’
The device exploded and debris rained down around them.
A few seconds later the dust and smoke cleared and everybody got back to their feet to find the door’s hinges buckled beyond repair.
‘It won’t close now,’ Brett said, inspecting it.
Radcliffe motioned to his four Darklight soldiers, who trained their rifles on the entrance. Brett looked to the professor and said, ‘What now?’
Steiner looked at John. ‘That’s up to the president.’
John surveyed the room. Expectant faces looked back at him, and his gaze strayed to where a digital clock counted down towards zero:
‘Half an hour,’ he murmured. ‘It’s not enough time.’ He took a deep breath and knew his previous hope of warning the nation was as futile as his resistance against the GMRC. No one could hope to survive the blast, let alone the impact.
As if reading his mind Bic said, ‘John Henry, did you wish to see a map of the asteroid’s blast radius?’
John looked at the cyberterrorist and walked over to stand by the large wallscreen. ‘Put it up,’ he said, his voice as reluctant as his expression.
An image appeared on screen:
‘With AG5, we were lucky,’ Steiner said, coming to stand by his side. ‘It impacted in the Indian Ocean. This rock may be half the size, but its effects will be just as devastating, and because there’s been no evacuation, casualties will be astronomical.’
John pointed at the map and couldn’t help but notice his hand trembled. ‘What do the rings denote?’
‘This map has dual purposes, John Henry,’ Bic said. ‘The outer ring is an estimation of the outer air blast and tsunami zone, while the next ring in corresponds to a more powerful air blast, as do the two rings within that, each ring closer to the epicentre increasing in strength. The two inner rings can also be used to estimate the fireball which will engulf the impact zone itself.’
John stared at the image in horror. ‘It covers four states.’
‘Very few will survive,’ Steiner said. ‘And those that do, perhaps utilising asteroid or nuclear shelters, will experience catastrophic earthquakes, likely to be less than AG5’s magnitude twelve, but ten plus on the Richter scale is expected. As seen in disaster movies, collapse of the continental shelf is almost certain, as are landslides and other mass movements.’
‘This is no movie,’ John said.
Steiner gave a shake of his head. ‘No, Mr President,’ – he glanced at the countdown clock – ‘it’s not.’
John followed his gaze and then looked at the live video streams displayed on other sections of the wallscreen. The Pacific and Atlantic fleets faced off against comparable Chinese and European armadas, GMRC armies mustered at their borders, and more foreign troops poured out from GMRC strongholds across the nation. The United States Capitol lay in ruins and GMRC soldiers stormed the White House itself. Amidst this chaos, John’s focus homed in on a familiar figure entering the West Wing and the scene from hell was complete. ‘Malcolm Joiner,’ he said, his eyes narrowing.
Professor Steiner nodded, his expression grim. ‘The Devil himself.’
♦
Malcolm Joiner strode down a corridor within the West Wing, his exoskeleton’s motors whirring away in time to his movement. Grey-clad GMRC soldiers followed in his wake and many more scouted the way ahead for danger.
Joiner turned a corner and saw Agent Myers crouched down next to the body of a woman.
‘It’s the First Lady,’ Myers said, looking up at his director.
‘She knew the risks.’ Joiner stepped over Ashley’s corpse and kept on walking until he arrived at the Oval Office.
Myers followed him inside and pointed at another body lying on the floor. ‘John Henry’s Chief of Staff, Paul Brown.’
‘And no sign of the president himself?’ Joiner said.
‘None, yet. We think he must be in the underground complex.’
‘But they were preparing for a broadcast.’ Joiner surveyed the room, which had been set up with cameras and lighting rigs.
‘We have a live one,’ a soldier said from behind the Resolute Desk.
Joiner moved to where a large streak of blood led to a man who sat propped up against the desk. His eyes were closed as if in sleep, while three gunshot wounds continued to add to the pool of blood around him as he bled out. ‘The President’s Head of Security,’ Myers said, bending down to feel for a pulse.
Dante’s eyes opened and he looked up at Joiner. ‘You’re late.’
‘Where is he?’ Joiner said.
‘Bunker.’ Dante’s breath came in shallow gasps. ‘He knows.’
‘The asteroids?’
‘Only,’ – Dante swallowed – ‘only the next.’
‘That’s one too many,’ Joiner said, and then looked to Myers.
‘Our third regiment is breaking through from below,’ Myers said. ‘It’s touch and go whether they can get to the bunker before we do.’
Dante tried to grasp Joiner’s leg and the intelligence director took a step back. ‘Don’t touch me,’ he said, glaring in distaste at the dying Secret Service agent. He moved to the window and motioned to Myers. ‘Secure the elevator to the complex below. I don’t want the hacker disrupting our descent.’
‘We can abseil down,’ Myers said.
Joiner nodded. ‘See to it.’ He looked back at Dante whose eyes had slid closed. ‘And get this mess cleaned up. I may need to make an announcement before we return to USSB Haven.’
Myers moved off to carry out his orders. Joiner watched him go, then approached the president’s desk and murmured, ‘All good things,’ – he ran his fingers over its polished oak surface – ‘come to those who wait.’
Chapter Two Hundred Forty-One
Colonel Samson scanned the hallway with his visor and the voice in his head said, ‘He’s waiting for you around the next corner.’
‘How do you know?’ Samson said, his voice a whisper.
‘I know many things. You should know that by now.’
Samson hefted the rifle given him by the Darklight captain. He knew the assassin was without his helmet, which meant he couldn’t fully utilise his armour’s cloaking, something Samson himself now employed. Nor could he use the sophisticated visor and head-up-display that would usually give him the edge against an opponent. If Samson hadn’t seen Ophion in action before, he would have more than fancied his chances, but he knew S.I.L.V.E.R.’s leader was far more than just the sum of his state-of-the-art equipment.
A thrill of excitement swept through his veins. He’d n
ever come up against someone whose skills matched his own. The nearest comparison might have been the other S.I.L.V.E.R. operative he’d fought in Sanctuary, but even she had failed to best him, her life forfeit as a result. An image of a large figure in Darklight armour appeared in his mind’s eye and Samson ground his teeth and pushed the thought away. I would have beaten him, too, he thought, refocusing on the job in hand. It was time to see how good Nexus really was.
♦
John Henry looked at the clock:
‘Unless you do something soon, Mr President,’ Steiner said, ‘our nation will be no more.’
John looked at the image of the asteroid’s predicted fallout, then looked at Bic and said, ‘The world has never faced a greater threat.’
The hacker’s jaw clenched in anger. ‘I am not your enemy, John Henry!’
Someone grasped John’s hand and he looked round to see the English newsreader looking at him with desperate eyes.
‘Please,’ Jessica said. ‘We’re running out of time!’
Country or planet, John thought. It was the most difficult of choices, but the way forward was clear. John looked at Steiner and knew a sacrifice had to be made, because, as he kept telling himself over and over again, the hacker could never be allowed access to weapons of mass destruction – ever.
John looked around at those present, his heart broken and mind in revolt. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘If it prevents the cyberterrorist from gaining control of our nuclear arsenal, it’s with the heaviest of hearts—’
‘No, please!’ Jessica said, shaking her head.
‘—that a sacrifice must be made, and that sacrifice ...’ John bowed his head in grief. ‘... is the land I love, the United States itself.’
Chapter Two Hundred Forty-Two
Jessica let out a wail of despair and Eric tried to comfort her as best he could, while Steiner, Brett, the Chinese premier and the five Darklight mercenaries remained silent in grim realisation of what was to come.
John wiped a tear from his eye and looked back at the countdown timer; he knew he’d just sentenced all his countrymen to death. But what better way to end a nation, part of him thought, than by saving all the rest? There can be no greater honour, no greater calling. To die, so others may live, to save the entire planet. It was the ultimate sacrifice – the ultimate glory. He massaged his eyes and thought, Isn’t it?
It has to be, he told himself. He just wished with every fibre of his being, as the seconds continued to count down, the decision hadn’t been his to make.
A distant detonation reverberated through the bunker and Bic said, ‘GMRC soldiers are breaking into the complex from below.’
A much louder blast sent a pall of dust billowing through the bunker’s blast door, which remained half-open on damaged hinges.
Captain Radcliffe drew his sidearm and joined his men at the entrance, as the sound of fighting could be heard emanating from beyond.
♦
Ophion Nexus ducked a spray of bullets, deflected more with his blades, then cut a deep gash in Samson’s breastplate. The Terra Force colonel staggered back and his armour’s cloak flickered and then failed. Samson reappeared from the ether and roared his defiance, then came at Ophion again. The assassin dodged left, but an explosion sent one of his swords spiralling from his grasp.
He turned to see his opponent discard his depleted rifle and pick up the glowing blade.
Samson held up the sword. ‘Now we’re even.’
Ophion glanced down at his remaining weapon, its shadow-like blade a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. ‘No one is my equal,’ he said, looking into its depths. ‘It is my curse.’
The colonel took Ophion’s distraction as a chance to launch another attack, but Ophion parried his thrust with ease and launched a vicious riposte, which Samson barely avoided. The colonel deflected another cut to his head and spun away, but Ophion used Samson’s momentum to slam him into a wall, then drove his blade at the colonel’s helmet.
Samson turned his head just in time and Ophion’s sword sliced into the wall with a shower of sparks.
Ophion couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and thought, he should be dead.
The colonel seized Ophion’s arm and flung him across the room. Ophion rolled to his feet, barely in time to block another onslaught.
He seems to know my actions before I take them. Ophion weaved his sword in a deadly dance. No one’s that good. He forced Samson back. Except me!
Samson’s sword flicked out and Ophion backed away as they circled one another.
‘You’re bleeding,’ Samson said.
Ophion touched his cheek, smiled and then realised how the colonel was defying the odds. ‘The hacker is helping you.’ He glanced around at a series of closed circuit cameras and then back to Samson.
‘I need no one’s help.’ Samson removed his helmet and threw it to the floor. ‘Not even God’s.’
‘That’s who you think speaks to you?’ Ophion shook his head. ‘Your insanity is complete.’
Samson’s eyes bulged in fury, but something made Ophion pause and instead of using his attacker’s rage against him, he retreated around a bend in the hall.
‘That’s right, run!’ Samson said, pursuing him. He looked this way and that in confusion.
The assassin was nowhere to be seen.
♦
Ophion Nexus moved further away from the Terra Force colonel, who continued to shout obscenities in the vain hope of goading his opponent to return. Ophion, however, had other ideas. He’d observed a disturbing signal on his armour’s console. He may not have had his high-tech helmet, but he was not without redundancies. He tapped the display and waited for his guests to arrive.
Moments later the shimmering forms of a man and a woman emerged from nowhere and Ophion found himself looking into the mirrored visors of two S.I.L.V.E.R. operatives, as they deactivated their armour’s camouflage.
Ophion’s expression darkened at the sight of his subordinates. ‘Your presence was not requested.’
‘The Committee was concerned by your lack of progress,’ said the female assassin. ‘We were sent to ensure the deadline was met.’
‘Where are the targets?’ the man said.
Ophion considered the woman for a moment and then looked at her partner and said, ‘The bunker.’
The man detached a helmet from his armour’s back-plate and held it out to Ophion. ‘We thought you might need a spare.’
Ophion sheathed his sword and accepted the gift, his raised eyebrow asking a question.
‘We intercepted a signal from the White House,’ the woman said in explanation. She handed him a new thermal sword to replace the one he’d just lost. ‘It was clear your system had malfunctioned.’
Ophion nodded, donned the helmet and strode back through the underground complex towards the bunker, while the two operatives fell into step beside him.
Another shout of fury from Samson echoed through the hallways and the woman said, ‘Should we take care of the soldier first?’
Ophion shook his head. ‘He’s of no consequence.’
‘How are we to proceed?’ the man said, as they neared the crippled blast door.
Ophion raised his visor. ‘Follow my lead.’ He drew his swords and then whirled round and plunged one through the man’s visor, while his other sliced towards the woman’s neck. The female assassin dodged the attack, but Ophion’s second sword pierced her shoulder, pinning her to the wall.
‘You think I am so easily deceived?’ Ophion said. He seized her other arm and twisted the blade.
The woman suppressed a scream. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said, watching her comrade topple to the floor, dead.
Ophion slid the sword deeper. ‘Why are you here?’
The woman’s visor rose up into her helmet and she stared into Ophion’s eyes. ‘To complete the deadline.’
Ophion grasped the hilt of his sword tighter and dragged the blade down into her chest,
making her gasp in agony.
‘We were sent,’ she said, fighting to breath, ‘to liquidate you.’
‘Why?’
‘Your killing spree at Capitol Hill was not sanctioned.’
‘What else?’
The woman closed her eyes as she fought to maintain consciousness.
‘What else?’ Ophion said, applying more pressure.
Her eyes flared open. ‘It was foreseen.’
‘I know. The God Device prophesied my success.’
The woman shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, staring into his eyes. ‘It foresaw your death.’
Ophion glared at her as he processed what he’d just heard. ‘You lie.’
‘No – the God Device – it showed them how and where you will die. There was no mistake.’
‘And the Committee sent me anyway,’ he said, more to himself, than to her. ‘Then sent you to fulfil my destiny.’ He withdrew the blade and his eyes narrowed. ‘Unfortunately for the Committee, I carve my own furrow.’ He thrust his sword into the assassin’s heart and the woman let out a sigh and died.
A distant explosion made Ophion turn.
The GMRC was closing in on the bunker and he was now relieved of any duty he’d once given Selene and her faceless Committee, which meant he was now free to do as he pleased. He looked towards the bunker which housed the president and Professor Steiner. The question now was, should he seek another path? No, he thought. I’ve never failed to complete an assignment; if this is to be my last, it will not be the first.
A red light on his visor blinked on and off and Ophion activated the video call.
Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2) Page 121
