Project Apex (31 page)

"It's one of them isn’t it? From the White House," Fitzgerald said.

"I think so sir. Looks like he stowed away."

"Jesus," Fitzgerald muttered, sitting on the steps.

"Sty upstairs sir, we’ll deal with it."

At the rear of the plane, The Apex soldier who had been personally selected by Joshua for this most important of missions had ascended from the level three cargo hold where he had been hiding and opened fire on the security team who were at the rear of the plane, catching them off guard. Knowing Air Force One was fitted with reinforced bulletproof windows, the man rechristened by Joshua as Jacob had no fear of depressurizing the cabin before he could complete his mission. His aim was true, and he sliced through the security team before they could react. Pausing to reload his M16 Assault rifle, he made his way towards the next section of the plane and the panicked screams of those inside.

Pycroft and the presidents six-strong security team moved through the plane. Through the galley kitchen towards the board room. Access was granted only by a narrow corridor, which would give them the best chance of defending the president against the coming attack. Four of the security team moved down the corridor and took up positions at the entrance to the workroom. Pycroft and two other agents hung back.

Pycroft took a deep breath, the seconds stretching into what felt like hours. He was suddenly aware of everything going on around him. The whine of the engines, the light sweat forming on his neck and the crackle of gunfire from further down the plane. It would be a cruel irony now if after escaping the White House they were to fall at this last hurdle. He was broken from his train of thought by the door to the workroom opening. The president’s staff, unarmed and frightened, shoved into the room, desperate to flee the gunfire and were cut down, their bodies riddled with bullets as they tried to escape. The president’s security team at the end of the hall inched closer, returning fire, although, from his current angle, Pycroft couldn’t see their attacker. Fire was returned, peppering the reinforced interior of the plane, the sound absolutely deafening in the claustrophobic confines. Pycroft looked at the man to his right, a bald headed African American who looked absolutely terrified.

"Relax," Pycroft said, trying to force a smile. “We can handle this"

"This is my first week on the job," the man whispered, flinching as more gunfire was exchanged.

Pycroft nodded. “What’s your name?"

"Hamilton. Roy Hamilton."

"Okay Roy, just remember, you trained for this. You knew what the job entailed when you took it."

"I know, I know, I just didn’t think it would be so soon,"

Pycroft ducked as one of the president’s security team were cut down by a trail of bullets, claret spraying from his wounds as he fell.

The remaining members of the security team started to fall back, inching towards the corridor and Pycroft’s position.

"Stay here," Pycroft yelled above the gunfire. "I’m going to go to the president."

Roy nodded and adjusted his position. He wore the look of a man who didn’t believe he would survive. Pycroft wondered if he looked the same way.

Without the time to dwell on it, Pycroft turned and sprinted for the stairwell to the president’s office. Fitzgerald paced, hair dishevelled, clothes torn and filthy from the White House attack. He looked like a man who was ageing by the second.

"Come on sir," Pycroft said. “I’m moving you."

"Where?"

"Presidential suite. Come on, we need to go now."

Pycroft led Fitzgerald back down the steps and further away from the gunfire.

The presidential suite was located in the nose of the plane. Under normal circumstances, it served as the president’s personal living space during flights. It was complete with a living area, bed and private bathroom facilities. It would now serve as the last line of defence against their attackers. Pycroft ushered Fitzgerald into the room, closing the door behind them.

"Help me with this," Pycroft said, moving to the heavy framed double bed.

Together, they moved it, sliding it across the front of the door as a makeshift barricade. It was laughably inadequate, but it was the best they could do.

With nothing else to do but wait, the two men sat on the floor, listening to the chatter of gunfire. Pycroft double checked his weapon was loaded, then stood, pacing the room.

"Do you have any kids’ Agent Pycroft?" the president said, then corrected himself. "Hell, I don’t even know your first name."

"It's Dale sir. And yes, I have two daughters."

"They would be proud of you, of the things you've done for this country."

"I’m not so sure sir."

"Why's that?"

Pycroft looked at his feet, then back at the president. "Well, I haven’t always been a good father. I try my best now, but I feel like I missed so much. I’m the wrong side of forty now, and have already burned too many bridges."

"You're a good man. Whatever happens here today, I want you to know I appreciate it." The president said.

"Well sir, I guarantee I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe. We've come too far to give up now."

The president nodded, neither of them mentioning just how bleak the situation was. Dale walked to the door, leaning his ear against it.

There was no noise from the other side of the door. No screams. No gunfire.

"What's happening out there?" the president asked.

"Nothing. It’s quiet."

"Do you think they got him?"

"I don’t know..." Pycroft whispered. His stomach was tight, and his instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong.

"I think I should-” Pycroft’s words were cut off by the plane shaking, dropping out of the sky for a second before climbing erratically. Pycroft was thrown to the ground, his weapon skidding across the ground.

"What's going on?" The president said, eyes bulging.

It was then Pycroft understood what the situation was, and the sick feeling in his stomach told him all hope was lost.

"They never wanted you, sir. You were never the target."

"Then what do they want?"

"They wanted the plane. They wanted control of the plane."

Almost directly above them, with the cockpit breached and the pilot and co-pilot dead, the man christened Jacob took control of the aircraft. With absolute calm, he increased the crafts speed to maximum and pointed the nose towards the ground almost forty thousand feet below, throwing the president and Pycroft against the interior curve of the nose and rendering them helpless.

At the same time, Jacob took control of Air Force One, the man who sent him, Joshua, released a video on social media. It spread quickly, racking up thousands upon thousands of views which rapidly became millions. News agencies played the clip on a repeated loop as the White House attacker relayed a message to the world direct from the bullet ravaged Oval Office. The five-minute video was simple in its composition. Joshua framed in the centre of the shot and seated at the president’s desk, hands folded, long hair swept back, piercing gaze staring down the camera. The words were smooth and confident as he relayed his message to the world and ensured things were about to change forever.

"My name is Joshua, and I represent my brothers and sisters who will unite to usher in a new world. For too long you have been deceived, lied to by corrupt governments and greedy, self-serving politicians. It is these people, people including your own president who have lied to you, who have told you there is nothing to fear, who have told you everything will be alright."

He smiled into the camera, a cocky, self-assured expression.

"I’m here to tell you that isn’t the case. There is everything to fear. And nothing will be alright. Humanity as a species has spent too long ravaging and overpopulating this planet. We lie, and cheat, and burn our way through our limited resources with the idea it’s alright because somebody else will pick up the pieces because it will be someone else’s problem. Because of this blinkered world view, Nature and science have combined to find a way to rectify the failure of the humanity experiment. I represent the next step in human evolution. My brothers and I represent a future of humankind without the flaws many of you have. My brothers and I represent the dawning of the new world. Death. Disease. Hunger. Fear. These things will soon become a product of a bygone age. In a single fell swoop, we have taken over control of your infrastructure. Leaders of the world will learn they have neither access nor control of their nuclear arsenal, nor their communication satellites. We control everything. Any attempt to attack us, any move to interfere will be met with swift and violent retribution."

He paused again, allowing his words to sink in.

"Now sadly, because you have been force fed a diet of lies and false promises, I am forced to pre-empt any move to attack us and display the full breadth of our strength. In the next few minutes, a series of nuclear warheads will be launched at randomly selected targets through the world. These cannot be stopped, nor are they about terrorism or pushing a political agenda. It is meant as a warning, a show of our ultimate strength. Like Noah’s flood, it’s time to wipe the slate clean. This time, we are the flood waters, we are the force of nature which will consume the earth and leave behind only the good. This is the future, this is unavoidable. This is how it must be. Today is the beginning of the new world. Today is the start of the era of Joshua."

At precisely the same time Joshua’s video address finished, two things happened.

Firstly, Air Force One, piloted by Jacob, ploughed into the ground at almost six hundred miles per hour, decimating a huge section of the city of Washington as it disintegrated on impact, instantly killing the President of the United States.

At the same time, nuclear weapons launched remotely at Joshua’s command from the US, Britain and Russia impacted sites in Tokyo, Berlin and Paris, killing millions of people. In the Oval Office, Joshua walked to the window, watching as those who were gathered on the lawn abandoned their posts, fleeing to families in the hope of surviving. Joshua smiled. The devastation of what had already happened was just the start, a small taste of what was to come. He looked at the lawn as the dead bodies riddled with bullets or maimed by explosions started to rise, dragging themselves to their feet as the Apex virus replaced the function of the dead brain with its own unique form of life, its will to survive at all costs and spread its seed making them valuable weapons, the bitten who would die and be reborn in order to further spread their virus. It was a complete circle of life.

Genaro walked into the office, standing beside Joshua.

"It's done. We control all communications."

"Good."

They watched as the dead shambled aimlessly in search of hosts to infect.

"Our gift really is special. I didn’t think you could pull it off, but I stand corrected."

Joshua smiled as he watched the reborn dead go out into the world. He felt like a proud father watching the first tentative steps of a child.

"This is just the start. They think they know fear only because they haven’t yet seen what is to come."

"Everything is in place."

"Good. Begin phase two. This is the birth of the new world we always wanted."

“They can’t stop us now, can they?”

Joshua turned to the older man and smiled. “Nothing can stop us. Nothing at all.”

TO BE CONTINUED IN…

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