Project Venom (6 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Seede suddenly swatted at his left arm and frowned at the butterfly that had brushed past him.

“I’ve been seen!” transmitted Sirena. “Withdrawing to safe distance!”

“Send a full report to SWARM headquarters,” said Nero. “Morph and I will stay with him.”

At that moment, a female voice echoed through the airport concourse. “Last call for Flight AW91 Air Weihan to Shaghai, boarding at Gate 12. Last call for Flight AW91.”

Peter Seede walked calmly but quickly over to
the security checkpoint. A sour-faced guard ran an electronic wand around him, then ushered him into the arched X-ray detector. No alarms were triggered and the guard motioned for Seede to continue on to the gate.

Nero and Morph followed, scuttling along the corridor. Morph kept to the thinly carpeted floor, while Nero moved along the high ceiling, the two of them staying apart in case one of them was spotted as Sirena had been.

“Once Seede is on the aircraft,” said Nero, “SWARM headquarters should be able to stop it leaving by raising an official alert. Seede will be trapped and the police can arrest him. Until then, we must keep track of his movements.”

They shadowed Seede into the departure lounge. It was almost empty, as most of the passengers had already boarded the flight. The Air Weihan jet, a huge Boeing 767-300, could be seen through the enormous windows that formed one wall of the lounge. A steward was stationed at the metal tunnel which led out to the plane, hurrying the last few passengers through and collecting up their boarding passes with a weary
smile. He beckoned to Seede.

“Should we follow him on to the aircraft?” said Morph.

“It shouldn’t be necessary,” said Nero. “He won’t be able to escape once he’s aboard.”

“I’ll signal headquarters,” said Morph.

Moments later, Queen Bee cut in on the robots’ communications network. “Nero! Morph! How long before that flight takes off?”

“Eight minutes until the plane proceeds to the runway for take-off,” transmitted Nero.

Queen Bee muttered something under her breath, then said, “We can’t get the plane grounded quickly enough. There are too many phone calls to be made. We can’t use Sirena’s scans without… Anyway, it’s complicated. The only agents who can act in time are you two. You must stop that aircraft from taking off.”

“The airport authorities would respond instantly to a bomb threat,” said Nero. “Could SWARM pretend that—?”

“Absolutely not,” interrupted Queen Bee. “We do not resort to such irresponsible tactics. It’s our duty to protect this country!”

“Apologies, Queen Bee,” said Nero. “I was considering the problem logically.”

“As you’re programmed to do, it’s fine. Our actions against MI5 during their raid on Smith-Neutall broke the rules, but we must draw the line at actions that are morally wrong.”

“Understood,” said Nero.

“I have been computing alternatives,” said Morph. “The only way for Nero and I to prevent the aeroplane taking off is to damage its systems, or at least trigger alerts in the cockpit that would cause the pilots to delay the flight.”

“We’ll have to sneak on board after all,” said Nero.

“Make sure that plane doesn’t leave, especially with you on it!” said Queen Bee. “SWARM is classified above top secret in the UK. In China, the discovery of micro-robots like you would be considered as hostile espionage, or even as an act of war! The political consequences could be catastrophic. Sabotage of that plane is the only option. Get moving, time is short! Queen Bee out.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Nero and
Morph hurried along the metal tunnel linking the gate to the aircraft. The tunnel was filled with cold air, heavy with the smell of fuel. The 767’s engines were already whining into life, gradually getting louder as the rotors speeded up.

The robots, keeping well out of sight, reached the point where the tunnel met the curved outer surface of the plane. The last passengers were being hurried on board.

“My scans show the most effective sabotage would be to the flight guidance controls,” signalled Nero. “There’s an access panel close to the flight deck.”

The robots crossed the small gap between tunnel edge and aircraft. Inside, they clung to the ceiling. The microscopic electro-claws built into the ends of their legs allowed them to move along swiftly.

The sound of the engines rose higher. Flight attendants bustled around each other in the confined space of the crew area. There was a steady chatter of voices as passengers took their seats and settled down for the long flight.

Nero and Morph reached the bulkhead that
sealed off the flight deck from the rest of the aircraft. At floor level were a series of grilles and panels.

“Third panel,” said Nero. “Locate the circuit board marked ‘B2’ and disable it.”

Morph flattened his body and squeezed through at the panel’s edge. “It’s locked with a key,” he said. “An electronic lock would be no problem, but an old-fashioned, five-lever mechanism will take time.”

A scratchy voice sounded over the plane’s tannoy. “Cabin crew to doors and cross-check.”

A female flight attendant swung the plane’s entrance door shut and sealed it with a twist of a lever. The sound of the engines was suddenly muffled.

“Hurry!” said Morph. “Get in here, I need you to unscrew this plating.”

“Working on it,” said Nero. His pincers struggled to loosen the panel. Hercules would have been able to slice through it in seconds, but Nero’s pincers were designed for more delicate tasks. He didn’t have the strength to force the panel open, and neither did Morph.

“I can’t reach SWARM HQ,” said Morph. “The signal’s not getting through.”

“These aircraft have systems designed to stop outside electronic interference getting in,” said Nero. “Those systems are now also blocking our signals from getting out.”

The aircraft began to vibrate slightly. The power of the engines was increasing. Further orders crackled over the tannoy. The 767 gave a judder as it began to reverse away from the airport terminal.

“Quickly!” said Morph. “If we don’t stop the plane taking off, our mission has failed.”

Nero gave a sharp pull and at last the panel opened. Morph scurried out. Behind the panel was a metal plate, held in place with four tiny screws. A screwdriver head flipped out of Nero’s pincer and the first screw was undone with a lightning-fast whirr. It dropped on to the carpeted floor.

“Three to go!” said Morph. “We have only seconds left!”

The aircraft taxied towards Runway 2. In the cockpit, the pilots and navigator were talking to
the airport’s air traffic controllers.

The second screw was undone. Nero worked as fast as he could.

“Quick!” said Morph. “Two left!”

The aircraft moved smoothly out on to the runway, turning at the end of the three and a half thousand metre concrete strip to face its take-off position. The cabin crew finished demonstrating emergency procedures to the passengers, and strapped themselves in. The “Fasten Seatbelts” signs shone red. The engines rose to a roar.

The last two screws fell and the metal plate dropped away. Morph scuttled inside the panel, scanning rapidly for the B2 circuit board.

The pull of the aircraft suddenly increased. The passengers felt themselves pushed back in their seats. The 767 sped faster and faster along the runway.

“Just a few seconds,” said Morph. “Circuits located!”

“We’re too late!” cried Nero. “We’re taking off. If we interfere with the systems now, we’ll place the humans on board in danger. Remember what Queen Bee said.”

“You’re right,” said Morph. He scuttled out and Nero closed the panel. “What should we do? If we hurry, we can still leave the aircraft before it takes off, through the landing-gear bay.”

“Our mission has failed,” said Nero. “We are out of contact with HQ. We must think for ourselves. We need to devise a new mission. I think we need to stick close to Seede and the Venom.”

“Despite the possible risk of causing a war if we’re detected?” said Morph.

“None of the risks we’ll face are greater than the risk of the Venom being released,” said Nero.

“Agreed,” said Morph. “This is a dangerous situation.”

The 767 accelerated to take-off speed.

Nero and Morph were completely on their own, until they could re-establish contact with SWARM. Despite their mechanical components and electronic brains, they now understood what it must be like for a human to feel afraid.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“What?” gasped Queen Bee.

“The security systems on board aircraft like that are very efficient,” said Professor Miller. “Nero and Morph won’t be able to signal us, and we can’t signal them. Not until they get off that plane.”

“What about through an internet connection?” said Simon Turing. “Aircraft are online.”

“All web traffic is routed through a single, managed server,” said Alfred Berners. “Communications would be detected. We’d risk our robots being discovered.”

“Then they’re truly on their own, for the first time,” said Queen Bee.

The eleven-hour flight to Shanghai was uneventful. Nero and Morph hid beneath passenger seats close to where Seede was sitting. They monitored his every move.

He dozed for a while, ate two spoonfuls of the meal that was served to the passengers while the aircraft flew over the Caspian Sea, and listened to the in-flight radio. He complained to a woman behind him several times about her little boy, who kept kicking the back of his seat, and complained to an air steward about the snoring of a man a few rows behind him.

Nero and Morph remained motionless throughout the journey, silently recording everything Seede did. Morph noted that Seede’s heart rate stayed slightly higher than normal, indicating his nervousness. The fingers of his right hand tapped constantly at the arm rest beside him, while his left hand, with its prosthetic section,
was mostly kept pushed into the pocket of his jacket. He flicked through a magazine plucked from the seat-back pocket in front of him, and he flicked between the in-flight radio and movie channels, but generally he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to do anything other than restlessly wait…

At long last, the captain’s voice crackled from the tannoy again. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will soon be commencing our descent into Shanghai Pudong International Airport. Local time is 12.55 p.m. and local weather conditions are cloudy but pleasantly warm at twenty-one degrees Celsius. On behalf of the crew, I’d like to thank you for travelling Air Weihan today, and wish you a pleasant onward journey.”

The aircraft took another half an hour to finally glide into place at the airport terminal. Passengers gathered their things, stretching and grumbling after the long flight. Nero and Morph stayed put until the first rush was over, then quickly hitched a ride on Seede as he joined the shuffling line of people leaving the plane. Morph slid into his top pocket. Nero snipped a tiny hole in the lining
of Seede’s jacket and wriggled through, staying close to the hem where he was least likely to be noticed.

As soon as the micro-robots were off the plane, Nero signalled SWARM HQ back in London. He transmitted an update on the situation.

“We’re all glad to hear from you again,” said Queen Bee. “You made the right choice. Stick close to Seede.”

“Logged, Queen Bee,” said Nero.

Seede went through Passport Control, retrieved his suitcase from the long, mechanical carousels in the arrivals hall, and walked out of the airport’s main entrance. He hailed a green and grey taxi.

“Zhongshan Qi Street,” he said, “just off The Bund.”

The driver gave a nod, and said something that couldn’t be made out through the chewing of his bubble gum. The taxi sped away, taking Yan’an West Road on to the elevated motorway leading into Shanghai’s smog-shrouded city centre. As the car reached the bank of the huge, swirling Huangpu River, it turned left. It passed modern hotels, and old buildings left over from the days
when the city had been under European control. Across the water stood the elegantly shaped skyscrapers of Shaghai’s futuristic skyline, dominated by the Oriental Pearl Tower.

The taxi came to a halt outside a line of upmarket shops. Seede paid the driver in yuan, the local currency, and headed down a side street.

Seede paused for a moment outside a traditionally styled cafe. Its open front showed an interior painted red and black, with bulbous red lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and small tables where chattering people crowded around bowls of steaming food. A few tourists were dotted among the locals. Seede ignored the short queue at the serving counter, and weaved his way around the diners to a table near the back. Seated there were a man and a woman, both wearing sunglasses and hiking boots, with backpacks hanging on their chairs. They looked like tourists.

The man was short, stocky and greying at the temples, with a heavy moustache. The woman was taller and more stylish, her long ginger hair
swirled into a large bun at the back of her head. Both were picking at a serving of noodles with wooden chopsticks. Seede sat down beside them.

The man leaned closer to him and spoke with a Spanish accent. From his hiding place in the lining of Seede’s jacket, Nero transmitted the conversation back to London. In SWARM’s lab, Simon Turing recorded it.

“Identify yourself,” said the man, in a voice laced with suspicion and threat.

“My name is Peter Seede. I first contacted you by hacking the email account of Pablo Alva. We’ve been corresponding via encrypted message boards to negotiate this meeting and a price for the merchandise. Do I need to go on?”

The man sat back a little. He glanced around the cafe. Everyone was intent on their food and their chatter. From the kitchens came the sound of clanking pots and voices barking orders in the local dialect.

“OK,” said the man with a grim smile. “My friend here will scan you for bugs. I’m sure you understand. Even a trusted associate can be
working for the cops.”

Seede nodded amiably. “Of course.”

Nero sent an urgent message. “Morph! They’ll detect us! Temporary shutdown, thirty seconds!”

“Logged.”

The two micro-robots powered down a split second before the woman activated an app on her smartphone. She watched a stream of numbers form a graph on the screen. Nero and Morph’s advanced exoskeletons reflected a signal that registered only as non-organic material containing no electrical charge.

“He’s clean,” said the woman. Her accent was eastern European.

When the SWARM robots rebooted, they heard Seede asking the two strangers for their names. The man said he was called Hernandez, the woman Vinski. Morph’s analysis of their voice patterns indicated that they were both lying. Seede’s heart was racing, although he was making great efforts to appear calm.

“Where is Pablo Alva now?” said Vinski. “Is he aware of your actions?”

“No, you needn’t worry about him,” said
Seede. “He’s completely in the dark.”

Hernandez’s chair creaked as he shifted his weight. “To business, then? You have the merchandise?”

“By the skin of my teeth, yes,” said Seede. “MI5 raided the company, and I had only a couple of minutes before the place was locked down. All I had time to do was erase evidence of my visit to the vault where the stuff was kept.”

“How have you accomplished all this?” said Vinski. “I thought you weren’t a scientist?”

“I’m not,” said Seede. “Everyone back home thinks I have no technical knowledge at all. But I’ve done a great deal of private study. I know more than enough, thanks. It got me the goods.”

“It’s hidden elsewhere, I take it, or my friend’s scan would have shown it up.”

“Hidden, yes,” smiled Seede. “You have the money?”

Hernandez nodded. “Give us the details of the account into which you want it paid, and my friend will transfer the money as soon as you give us the merchandise.”

Seede had the numbers and access codes
relating to a secret Swiss bank account printed out on a slip of paper. His nerves momentarily blanked his memory of where he’d put it.

In the top pocket of his jacket, the folded piece of paper lay wedged just beside Morph’s head.

Seede rummaged through his other pockets.

Morph flattened his exoskeleton, pulling himself as tightly as possible into the bottom corner. He tucked his legs and antennae into the thin lining of fluff that had accumulated in the seams beneath him.

Seede’s fingers suddenly dived into the top pocket. They moved left and right, feeling for the paper. Morph sensed a slight brush against his side. If he delved any deeper, Seede would find the micro-robot.

With a lightning movement, Morph flicked his head against the folded paper. It was knocked into the path of Seede’s fingers. Seede nipped it tightly and plucked it out of his pocket.

“Ah, I knew I had it somewhere,” he smiled, pushing the slip across the table. Vinski picked it up and switched her smartphone to an online banking connection.

“The payment is as agreed,” said Hernandez. “Five million pounds sterling. We will wait here while you retrieve the merchandise.”

Seede grinned at them. “I’m afraid not. Payment first.”

Hernandez and Vinski glanced suspiciously at each other. “What?” said Vinski.

“You’ll get what you’re paying for, when you’ve paid for it,” said Seede. Morph registered a sudden increase in his heart rate and perspiration.

Hernandez shifted in his chair again. His voice dropped to a sinister growl. “That is not the way it works, my friend. You’ve never dealt with us before, so we will give you the benefit of the doubt. We are reasonable people. Business people. As are you, yes? The goods, please. Now.”

Seede stared levelly at them, his expression as blank as he could make it. He’d spent much of the flight to Shanghai mentally preparing for this moment.

“Only I know where it is. Without me, you’ll never get your grubby little hands on it. Isn’t that right?”

Hernandez’s eyes narrowed. Vinski’s gaze
flicked between Hernandez and Seede.

“The price has doubled,” said Seede. “I want ten million. Or I walk away right now.”

Hernandez’s voice became a sibilant whisper. “You walk out of here, and you’ll be dead before you reach the corner of the street. We have twelve men watching this cafe.”

“If I’m dead, you’ll never find the goods,” said Seede quietly. “Trust me. The price is ten million. I can never return, you understand. MI5 would trace me in the end. Not that I’d want to go back. I plan to disappear, to set myself up on some lovely warm island somewhere. That sort of thing doesn’t come cheap.”

“The deal is five million,” growled Hernandez.

“Ten,” said Seede. “Not. One. Penny. Less. You know the goods are worth it. More, even.”

Hernandez paused for a moment, then suddenly smiled and shook his head. “Now, my friend,” he laughed, “I have seen the true face of greed.”

Seede laughed too.

Hernandez snorted amusement, then became serious again. “And what is to stop us killing you
the minute you hand over the merchandise?” he said. “If you think you’re going to rip us off, you are sadly mistaken.”

“Ah, but I’ve come prepared,” said Seede. “You’ve brought your heavies with you, I’ve brought mine. Hired assassins, ready to wipe you out, and anyone else in your organization they can track down, if I don’t reach my lovely warm island. I can afford them, now.”

In Seede’s top pocket, Morph’s sensors showed that Seede was lying too. He was calling Hernandez’s bluff.

Hernandez turned to Vinski. “Pay the man,” he grunted.

Seede couldn’t stop himself grinning with triumph. Vinski tapped at her smartphone. A few seconds later, she turned the screen around to show Seede the payment confirmation. Seede consulted his own phone to double check that the money was in his account.

“Thank you,” he said.

He leaned forward across the table, extending his left hand, palm upwards. “By the way,” he said, “what do you plan to do with it?”

“It’s no concern of yours,” muttered Hernandez.

“Just curious,” shrugged Seede. “I don’t want to find that the lovely warm island I choose is right in your firing line, that’s all.”

“We have a carefully devised plan,” smiled Vinski. “The company which created the merchandise will be bombed. That way, those who created it will die, the records of it will be destroyed, and the possibility of an antidote being developed will be reduced. Then, one week from now, the merchandise will be let loose in two locations. The United Nations building in New York, and the EU headquarters in Brussels. Neither of which are lovely warm islands.”