Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2)

by Robert Storey

  Selene Dubois appeared on his helmet’s display. ‘The deadline approaches, Ophion; what news?’

  ‘Your deception has failed.’ Ophion gazed into her eyes. ‘Our contract is terminated.’

  Selene remained unfazed. ‘We all need to make sacrifices, Ophion. It was nothing personal. I hope you understand.’

  ‘You sent me here to die.’

  ‘We sent you there to do your job, which you have failed to complete,’ – Selene sighed – ‘and we both know what happens when you fail the Committee.’

  Another explosion reverberated through the underground compound and Ophion said, ‘Have my years of service not earned me the truth?’

  Selene stared at him, her impassive expression undiminished. ‘Very well. The God Device predicted your betrayal and provided us with a resolution culminating in your death.’

  Ophion disliked Selene’s ways, much like Dagmar Sorensen, who openly condemned the Committee’s obsession with the occult. Ophion, however, rarely allowed his personal views to see the light of day, but in this instance he was prepared to make an exception. ‘Nothing and no one controls my future,’ Ophion said. ‘Not the Committee, nor the device it wields. I had no intent to betray you ... until now.’

  ‘The decision has been made,’ Selene said. ‘I’m not sure what else I can say. Our business relationship has borne fruit, but like all of nature’s blessings, it must end in decay. Goodbye, Ophion. I hope the rest of your short life is as blessed as mine is long.’

  ‘Time,’ Ophion said, his deep voice laced with fury, ‘is as I make it.’

  Selene’s image disappeared, and Ophion watched the blood from his blade drip onto the pristine white floor, the blood of a woman he’d been training to become an assassin since she was eight years old. He looked at the dead operative he’d been forced to kill. The girl had grown into a woman, who was now slain by the hand that taught her. Ophion knew Selene had sent her on purpose, to elicit an emotional response from him. It had failed, like the assassination attempt itself. Selene seemed unconcerned she’d made the most deadly man on the planet an enemy, but then, that was the arrogance of one whose understanding of honour was as limited as her imagination.

  Ophion took a deep breath and cleared his mind in preparation for what was to come. He pictured the images of his next targets in his mind’s eye: Professor Steiner, President Henry and Da Muss Ich, and now a fourth target had been added to his list. The final image was of a tall woman, dressed in an immaculate tailored dress, a woman who’d broken their contract and ordered his death, a woman whose lifespan was now far shorter than she believed – the image was of Selene Dubois herself.

  ♦

  Colonel Samson stalked the halls of the underground complex, but the elusive assassin remained unfound and Samson was forced to accept victory, albeit one without Ophion’s demise.

  Samson slid his helmet back over his head and the voice he’d come to rely on spoke, ‘I told you not to remove it. I could have guided you to him.’

  Samson gave a growl of annoyance. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He left to converse with more S.I.L.V.E.R. operatives.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘You needn’t concern yourself. They’re dead, by Ophion’s hand.’

  Samson thought for a moment. ‘Are you the hacker, as he claimed?’

  ‘I am whoever you need me to be,’ said the voice. ‘But if you wish to protect your daughter and save this planet’s surface, you must hurry; the assassin has returned to the bunker.’

  Fear gripped Samson’s heart and the Terra Force colonel set off at a dead run.

  Chapter Two Hundred Forty-Three

  ‘Professor,’ – Captain Radcliffe forced Steiner to the floor – ‘stay down!’ Steiner put his hands over his ears, as deafening gunfire filled the bunker.

  A smoke grenade exploded and a Darklight soldier squinted through the haze, his rifle at the ready. ‘Where is he?!’

  ‘Right here,’ said a voice and the soldier screamed as a sword burst through his chest.

  Ophion grasped the soldier’s hand, which still held his rifle, and forced down the trigger. Bullets tore through the last of Radcliffe’s men and the assassin cast the body aside and spun away, as the captain unleashed his weapon with another roar of gunfire.

  Steiner gazed at the bodies of the four fallen Darklight soldiers and then looked across to where Brett fired off shots with a handgun at the assassin’s shimmering form. And, behind her, he saw the Chinese premier, Liang Junhui, sheltering from the gun battle alongside the man who must be kept alive at any cost: John Henry himself.

  ‘Where’s Samson!’ Steiner said to Bic, whose image was on the bullet-riddled screen.

  Bic pointed at the hatch door. ‘There!’

  Two glowing green eyes emerged through the smoky haze and Samson launched himself into the fray, taking Ophion unawares. The two men slammed into the main console with a shower of sparks. The assassin’s form re-materialised as electricity flickered over his armour and Samson slammed a fist into his arm, forcing him to drop the sword. Ophion lashed out, throwing Samson to the floor, then swept up his blade and launched it through the air in the opposite direction. The weapon lanced through Radcliffe’s chest and the Darklight captain staggered and fell to his knees. The officer opened his visor and looked at Steiner in shock, then crumpled to the floor.

  Jessica screamed in horror. She picked up a Darklight rifle and fired at Ophion’s back as he bore down on Steiner.

  The assassin whirled round and a knife appeared in Jessica’s shoulder, knocking her from her feet as her weapon clattered to the floor.

  Steiner scrambled away on his hands and knees as Ophion launched another knife, in his direction, but the blade ricocheted off Samson’s outstretched hand.

  The armoured colonel stood to face his nemesis. ‘You’ll have to do better than that, assassin.’

  Ophion flicked out a hand and a device arrowed towards the president. Steiner shouted a warning. Brett threw herself over John Henry and the ex-FBI agent cried out in pain as it exploded.

  Samson howled in fury and surged forward, but Ophion evaded the attack and delivered a sickening blow to the colonel’s helmet, and Samson slumped to the floor in a heap.

  ♦

  Silence fell in the bunker. Ophion Nexus removed the sword from Radcliffe’s body, then turned round as Professor Steiner got to his feet.

  ‘You do not need to do this, Ophion Nexus!’ the hacker said from his cracked screen. ‘I intercepted your call with Selene Dubois, you’re released from your contract.’

  Ophion ignored him, his gaze fixed on his first target. He raised his sword and looked into the professor’s eyes.

  ‘All you have known is death,’ Steiner said. ‘Kill me now and you condemn billions more to an early grave.’

  ‘If you seek my compassion, I have none.’

  ‘Then get it over with,’ Steiner said, in defiance. ‘And may God have mercy on your soul.’

  ‘God is an illusion of the mind,’ Ophion said, from behind his visored helm. ‘There is only death.’ He raised his sword to strike, but a signal on his visor made him pause. His eyes flicked across the display in a series of commands and his eyes narrowed in displeasure. Selene hadn’t just sent two S.I.L.V.E.R. operatives after him, but ten, and he knew if he was to remain alive, he had to leave before they had him trapped. ‘It seems you’ve had a reprieve,’ Ophion said to Steiner as he lowered his sword. ‘At least ... from me.’ The assassin retrieved his other weapon from Samson’s backplate and then left the debris-strewn bunker without another word, the scene of carnage he’d wrought forgotten as quickly as he’d arrived.

  ♦

  Steiner let out his breath. By all rights he should be dead … but whatever had spooked the assassin, it sounded like it had only delayed the inevitable.

  With the time until impact still ticking away, he made his way over to Brett, while Eric and Liang Junhui saw to Jessica, who struggled to remove
the assassin’s knife from her shoulder.

  ‘Does she live?’ Steiner said, still amazed by Ophion’s sudden departure.

  ‘Barely.’ John Henry looked up at him. ‘She saved my life.’

  ‘Brett.’ Steiner touched her arm and the ex-FBI agent opened her eyes.

  ‘Did we win?’

  Steiner nodded and squeezed her hand. ‘You did good.’

  She looked at the countdown clock as it dropped below twenty-three minutes. ‘You need to organise the strike.’

  Steiner glanced at the blood seeping from her wounds and knew she didn’t have long to live.

  Brett’s grip tightened. ‘Before it’s too late.’

  A noise behind made Steiner turn; he saw Samson standing close by, his helmet discarded, looking down at his daughter with cold, dead eyes.

  Brett shuddered and Steiner turned back to her, as a sorrowful Jessica and Eric came to join them, the former holding the wound on her arm.

  Brett’s eyes stared unseeing into the light and she said, ‘Father.’

  Samson knelt down beside her, but didn’t speak.

  ‘He’s here,’ Steiner said, motioning for Samson to take her other hand, which he did.

  Brett groaned in pain. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t trust you sooner.’

  Samson brows furrowed in distress, but as he was about to speak, Brett focused on the professor again. ‘I should have trusted you sooner.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Steiner said, patting her hand. ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘No, I’ve betrayed you.’

  Jessica looked shocked. ‘What have you done?’

  Brett held Steiner’s gaze. ‘I left one of the doors unlocked on our way here, I thought,’ – she struggled for breath – ‘I thought like the president.’

  Steiner glanced at John Henry as Brett said, ‘I couldn’t let Bic access nuclear weapons.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter now,’ Steiner said, knowing what he said was true. ‘You did what you thought was right.’

  ‘You ... are the …’ – she reached out, with tears in her eyes, and touched his face – ‘… father I never ... had.’

  Steiner held her hand to his cheek and gave her the fondest of smiles. ‘And you are the child I always wished for.’

  Brett coughed and her body seized, and Steiner grasped her hand tighter.

  ‘Goodbye,’ she whispered, her eyes fixed on Steiner, ‘fath ...’ – her hand reached out again, but fell short – ‘... ther.’

  Brett fell still and Jessica let out a tearful sob. Steiner stared into Brett’s unmoving eyes before closing them with the lightest touch.

  He turned to see Samson staring at him with hate. His daughter was dead and her last words had been to ordain another with the title that had cursed and driven him since her birth.

  Steiner opened his mouth, but there were no words.

  The colonel stood and gazed down at Brett, then rammed his helmet back on before stalking away towards the door.

  ‘Colonel!’ the president said. ‘We need you!’

  Samson didn’t respond.

  ‘Let him go.’ Steiner glanced at the smashed wallscreen, and the image of GMRC troops as they broke through into the compound from the monorail station below. ‘Our time is up.’

  ♦

  Colonel Samson emerged from the nuclear bunker and looked down the long hallway, as grey-clad GMRC troops swarmed up from below. Something trickled down his face as rounds whizzed past him. He wondered what it was as he stood there, immobile, while more bullets ricocheted off his armour and two more cracked his visor.

  The voice in his head shouted at him, but all Samson could hear were his daughter’s last words to another. ‘Goodbye ... father.’

  The words echoed around his head until the other voice grew louder. ‘Shut the door!’ said the voice. ‘SHUT THE DOOR!!’

  The GMRC troops drew ever closer and Samson’s armoured panels cracked and split as the bullets continued to fly.

  ‘Shut the door!!’ the voice screamed. ‘SHUT IT!!!’

  Samson realised what it was that continued to dampen his face: tears – a sensation as alien to him as the grief that sought to end him.

  He let out a wail of inhuman despair, then turned and grasped the bunker’s seized-up door. Then, with his two mighty hands, he bunched his muscles and pushed.

  The GMRC soldiers closed on his position.

  The hinges on the massive hatch gave, then it crept inwards with a fearsome screech of metal on metal. More bullets rained down on Samson and he let out a cry of heartbroken rage as he increased his effort. ‘Goodbye,’ he said as the door ground closed and bullets pierced his armour, ‘my ... daughter.’

  Chapter Two Hundred Forty-Four

  Steiner watched as the blast door closed with a metallic boom. Samson had somehow mustered the strength to achieve the impossible, although at the cost of his own life.

  ‘He saved us,’ Eric said, looking at the screen, which showed Samson dropping to his knees outside.

  ‘And now we’re trapped inside,’ – the president walked over and activated the inner locking mechanism – ‘with no way to escape.’

  ‘At least we have a nice place to stay,’ Eric said. ‘Comfy rooms, food, water. Enough for months, yes?’

  John Henry nodded. ‘While everyone else dies.’

  ‘Not everyone,’ Steiner said, and pointed at the screen, where Samson turned to face his attackers.

  ‘He’ll never make it,’ the president said. ‘He’s outnumbered forty-to-one.’

  Steiner looked John in the eye. ‘Never say never, Mr President.’

  ♦

  ‘Put your hands on your head!’ said a GMRC soldier. ‘NOW!’

  Colonel Samson held up his hands, knelt down in the centre of the corridor and hung his head, while his visor sent warning signals cascading over his head-up-display. Pain lanced through his body from multiple contusions and a handful of bloody wounds. His armour’s outer sheath had been penetrated, but the majority of his body had remained protected from the soldiers’ attack by a secondary layer.

  A GMRC soldier grasped his arms and forced them behind his back. ‘How many inside?’

  Samson didn’t reply as more armoured GMRC soldiers surrounded him, while others tried to pry open the massive metal hatch he’d just closed.

  ‘Radio the surface and tell them we’ve secured the compound, but the bunker’s sealed tight.’

  A soldier made the call, spoke to someone and then handed the radio to his officer. ‘He wants to speak to you.’

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘He says his name’s Director of Intelligence Joiner.’

  The officer paled and held out his hand to take the radio and said, ‘Director?’

  ♦

  Agent Myers waited next to Malcolm Joiner in the White House, as the director spoke to the soldiers who’d broken into the compound below. They were ahead of schedule, which made Myers suspicious. It should have taken them longer to break through the doors and hatches they would have been faced with. Someone must have failed to secure them properly, he thought. Either that, or someone on the inside was working against Steiner without his knowledge.

  Joiner continued to speak to the man and then handed the radio to Myers in disgust. ‘Talk to this idiot, he’s making no sense.’

  Myers accepted the radio and said, ‘Talk to me, soldier.’

  ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘Assistant Director Myers.’

  ‘Sir, it’s as I told Director Joiner. The bunker’s sealed tighter than a gnat’s ass. There’s no way inside.’

  ‘Your last contact said the blast door was open and the hinges damaged. Your unit was just about to breach.’

  ‘It was and they were – are. But – didn’t.’

  ‘What?’ Myers said. ‘Your signal’s breaking up. Didn’t what?’

  ‘Breach. As I already told you, the hatch is closed. There’s no way in and
the president must still be inside.’

  Myers glanced at Joiner and his growing impatience. ‘Who closed it?’

  ‘Sir, say again?’

  ‘Jesus Christ, who closed the damn door?!’

  ‘One of the president’s men.’

  ‘Put him on.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Put him on the radio you fucking idiot!’

  ‘He’s refusing to talk.’

  Myers muttered a curse and watched as his men prised open the doors to the elevator shaft leading down to the compound below. He gestured to them, and the first two men anchored wire cable to the floor and then stepped out into darkness to abseil down into the depths.

  ‘We’re coming to you,’ Myers said. ‘Stay where you are.’

  ♦

  ‘They’re coming down,’ the officer said, and motioned to the elevator. ‘Get those doors open.’

  His men nodded and moved to carry out his orders while he continued to speak to the Assistant Director.

  ‘Yes, as I said,’ the officer said, ‘one of his men.’ He looked down his nose at Samson. ‘He closed it.’

  Colonel Samson turned his head and saw two more GMRC soldiers emerge from the elevator shaft, their armour a darker shade of grey, marking them out as part of an elite unit.

  ‘Yes, yes, but he’s armoured.’ The officer surveyed Samson’s suit. ‘It looks like USSB Special Forces military issue.’

  The officer nodded. ‘Terra Force, yes.’ He wiped at Samson’s well-worn armour to reveal the emblem beneath and gave the colonel a strange look. ‘Steadfast. USSB Steadfast.’

  Another armoured figure emerged from the elevator shaft. ‘What’s his name,’ Myers said, detaching himself from the cable and approaching.

  The officer looked at Samson’s breastplate. ‘Colonel Samson.’