The Phoenix Variant: The Fifth Column 3 (28 page)

Nasira found Jay halfway down the long platform, in the center. He was sitting beneath another one of those long single strings of fluorescent lights suspended by crisscrossing wires. There were no pillars on this platform so Nasira had a clear view. Silver suburban trains rested on both sides of the platform. One train had blue livery, the other red. The carriages stretched almost to infinity, beyond Jay, to the very end of the platform.

Nasira had placed her last iPhone on the bench of a gelato bar. It was close enough to connect with the antenna Aviary had plugged into the restaurant during their earlier visit. As she approached Jay she checked her own iPhone and found it was just in range of the antenna. She could see the camera feed of the dining concourse. If anyone came running down, she’d know about it. She reminded herself to ask Aviary to program in some sort of motion detection alarm for the cameras that would make her phone vibrate, saving her checking the screen every ten seconds.

Jay didn’t look up until Nasira had almost reached him. His hands were tied behind his back, but he didn’t seem to have attempted to free himself.

She stopped. Something felt wrong.

‘You could’ve at least moved your hands to the front,’ Nasira said.

‘My ass is too big,’ Jay said. He looked up. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘What the fuck do you think?’ Nasira said. ‘Visiting hours.’

Nasira surveyed the silver trains flanking her. They buzzed sharply. Large, angry spikes that shot through her arms. It rattled her, tingled across her spine. This wasn’t good, she could feel it. She walked across the nearest train and forced a door open. The carriage was spaced out with block-shaped demolition charges, two wires running from one to the other.

‘Denton wasn’t kidding,’ she said.

‘Not when it comes to RDX and thermite,’ Jay said.

Nasira crossed over to the train on the other side and pried the door open. Same deal. More demolition charges.

‘You can disarm them,’ Jay said. ‘But you’d have to go
through here
.’

Nasira watched him mark out a perfect square—a barrier that included the carriages themselves. The barrier ran across a break in the platform tiles where it shifted from a rusted brown to a line of black, and then back to rusted brown.

‘Where’s Damien?’ Nasira said.

‘Another platform, I was told,’ Jay said. ‘Probably far away to maximize the effect.’

‘What’s the mechanism?’ Nasira said.

‘Motion sensors,’ Jay said. ‘Two in front of me, two behind. I can see the infrared.’

‘I can snip the wires on one,’ Nasira said. ‘But that will—’

‘Trip another,’ Jay said. ‘They overlap.’

She turned to leave. She needed to find Aviary.

‘Don’t!’ Jay yelled. ‘Wait!’

He was standing now, hands still tied behind his back.

‘What?’ Nasira said.

‘You just activated another set of sensors!’ Jay said. ‘Don’t go back!’

‘What the fuck?’ Nasira said. ‘Where?’

‘I don’t know how, but they just kicked in right behind you, only a few feet,’ Jay said. ‘Come forward!’

Nasira strode toward the black tiles. ‘Why didn’t you fucking tell me!’ she yelled.

‘I didn’t fucking know, did I?’ Jay said. ‘Fuck, Nasira!’

‘I nearly blew us up!’ she yelled.

Jay shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, suddenly quiet. ‘You would’ve blown Damien up—along with a good chunk of the platforms around him. And his trigger would blow ours up.’

Nasira crouched down before the black tiles, tried to breathe, tried to think. ‘Denton has your phone?’

Jay nodded. ‘Yeah. I’ll have to ask for it back later.’

‘Can he see the operatives on the map?’ Nasira asked.

He shook his head. ‘Nah, not on our phones.’

‘Good,’ Nasira said. ‘There has to be another way out of this.’

‘You should’ve gone for Sophia,’ Jay said.

‘How did you—?’

‘Denton was here,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t contain his excitement when the meteorite surfaced, got a strong signal and just stopped moving.’

‘Ain’t he suspicious?’ Nasira said.

‘Of course,’ Jay said. ‘But that won’t stop him. Sophia needed your help.’

‘Don’t you think I fucking know that?’ Nasira yelled.

‘She has a programmed operative and DC!’ Jay yelled back. ‘Not exactly the A-team, you know.’

She stared at the black tiles, trying to picture the invisible line. ‘I made the wrong call,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t be here.’

‘Finally, you agree with me on something,’ Jay said.

‘Shut up, Jay,’ she said.

Jay nodded. ‘Guess I deserved that,’ he said. ‘What now?’

‘Now?’ Nasira said. ‘We’re both fucking stuck here, aren’t we?’

She checked her phone. No connection.

‘And I have no signal,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry,’ Jay said.

‘For what?’ She turned to him. ‘For getting caught? Yeah, that was pretty shit.’

‘Fuck you too,’ he said.

Nasira shrugged. ‘I wanted to save you. Before the operatives snatched you.’

‘You don’t need to tell me that,’ he said.

‘Why?’ she said. ‘Because it makes you uncomfortable that someone wants to help you?’

‘No,’ Jay said. ‘Because I know you wanted to save me.’

She returned to the black tiles and sat before him, cross-legged. ‘If we don’t make it through this,’ she said, ‘no regrets.’

He smiled. First time she’d seen him smile all night.

‘No regrets,’ he said.

She felt her eyes clouding and blinked it away. ‘I just needed … someone watching my back,’ she said. ‘Just that one extra person and we could’ve made it.’ She shook her head. ‘Even Aviary, for fuck’s sake.’

‘I have one regret,’ Jay said.

Her heart skipped a beat. ‘What?’ she said. ‘I mean, yeah, I guess you would.’

‘I want to see my family again,’ Jay said.

She was almost certain she’d heard him wrong. ‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I’ve been thinking. Since you said you went to see Lucia’s family. I have an uncle, two cousins. In Rio. I just—’ He blinked. ‘Just want to let them know I’m here. And I’m not a fuck-up.’

‘You told anyone you want to do this?’ Nasira said. ‘Damien?’

‘Nah,’ Jay said. ‘He doesn’t want to hear that.’

‘If we get out of this,’ she said. She caught her words, held them for a moment. ‘If we get out, I’ve always wanted to see Brazil.’

Jay started to laugh softly. ‘How about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘I was adopted, Jay,’ she said. ‘Denton took me from an adoption center.’

‘Oh. You have no family?’ he said.

She nodded. ‘I have one now.’

Jay cleared his throat. ‘Any other regrets?’

‘Not saving you,’ she said. She felt her cheeks flush. ‘Shit, this is really not cool.’

‘If only they could see us now,’ Jay said. ‘Deep conversation in the middle of a ticking bomb.’

‘See us now,’ she repeated.

If someone could see us now, she thought. She launched to her feet. Searched for the nearest security camera. She found one behind her, pointed down to the platform. She jumped up and down, waving her arms.

‘What are you doing?’ Jay said. ‘Asking for a bathroom break?’

If Aviary had successfully taken control of the security cameras, that meant she could see them right now. She finished jumping and waving and started miming explosives with a big boom, pointed to the train and imitated cutting with a knife.

‘I know you’re out there,’ Nasira whispered. ‘Come find me.’

‘Move!’ DC yelled.

Sophia ran across East 49th, weaved between a pot plant and a boom gate, and sprinted through the narrow alleyway toward DC. Hurricane Isaias roared above them, tearing into her with torrents of wind and rain. She was in the center of Hell and her vision was still clouded from the residual CS gas in the Astoria. On the upside, the hard rain helped wash it away.

She’d moved quickly, covered her face, and snatched the meteorite out of the ruck while Denton and the Commander were busy fighting. The meteorite was now crammed into her ruck with her own things. She wasn’t sure how the trace materials on the meteorite allowed Denton to track it, but she made a mental note to scrub her ruck and herself as soon as this was over.

She checked over her shoulder: Czarina was a few paces behind her, barely keeping her footing as hurricane-force winds shunted through the alleyway. She almost hit the boom gate but kept running. They ran between an older ten-story brick building and an obsidian black skyscraper. At the end of the alleyway, DC had a Marauder ready to go. Sophia could see the rear doors open. There was no one else inside.

This route was the only way out to avoid the Commander’s snipers and any masked Blue Berets posted nearby. Sophia made it halfway down the alleyway when she realized half the masked Blue Berets were probably dead by now. She had no idea who was who in the Basildon Hall, and lingering a second longer would have meant succumbing to the effects of the CS gas and incapacitating herself—or worse, exposing herself to Denton and his operatives.

You either kept moving or you wound up dead.

She was near the Marauder now, her vision sharpening and her nasal passages clearing. She spluttered the last of the mucus build up—a wonderful display for DC, who sat at the wheel with his carbine in both hands. She veered around the back of the Marauder. She grasped her Glock and checked the street. It was narrow, cluttered with parked cabs and flanked by tall, monstrous spires of glass and steel.

Czarina caught up and climbed into the back, up the three metal steps. Sophia did the same. Together they closed the rear doors. The vehicle groaned under the pressure of the hurricane’s wind.

‘Go!’ Sophia yelled.

DC had already hit the gas and the Marauder took off, grazing a parked truck. Sophia took a seat near the driver’s cabin.

‘Where?’ DC yelled back.

‘Grand Central!’ she said.

DC looked at her, not quite certain he’d heard her right. ‘Of all the—’ He stopped mid-sentence as though he’d decided to just take her word on it.

‘If Denton wants to play this game, I’ll play this game. If he thinks he can blow up Damien and Jay then I’ll put the meteorite right in there with them.’

Sitting opposite her, Czarina shrugged. ‘But how will he know it’s there?’

‘He’s tracking the meteorite and he’s tracking me,’ Sophia said. ‘He’ll see its exact location.’

‘Yeah but we need to actually get there first!’ DC yelled from the driver’s seat, swerving to avoid more parked cars.

‘What if the operatives come and take it?’ Czarina said.

‘Then we blow it,’ Sophia said. ‘Whatever explosives Denton is using, they’ll burn hot enough to either destroy the meteorite or fuse it, destroying the virus. It’s the only way to be sure. Obviously we need to get the boys out first.’

‘I can take us underground—on foot direct to the platform the guys are being held on,’ DC said.

‘We don’t have time,’ Sophia said. ‘Until we get the meteorite in place, Denton can blow one of those platforms. He has leverage right now. And we need to change that.’

She felt DC push the Marauder harder. ‘We have company.’

Sophia saw another Marauder lurch out behind them—one block away.

She slipped her ruck from her shoulders and jumped into the gunner platform. Climbing into place, she cocked the .50 cal and released the lock on the mount. The Marauder slipped into her front sight. Someone was moving into its gunner platform too.

She squeezed the trigger and held it there. The recoil shuddered through her. She held, refocused her aim and kept the rounds on the Marauder. The driver’s cabin took the rounds but didn’t deflect them. The large caliber pierced the cabin, punched through the roof and hit the gunner platform, tearing the operator and the machine gun into splinters of flesh and metal.

The Marauder turned and crashed through parked cars. She continued to punch rounds into it, vaguely aware that rounds had struck just below her. She looked down to see a tear in the armor and a hole in the driver’s cabin. DC was still driving straight. She hoped he was OK.

Something blurred across her vision. She took a hand off to clear her eyes from the CS gas. The blur was real. An operative was on the roof, beside her. His foot smashed into her ear. The same boots that casually dressed soldier had been wearing. Starbursts popped across her vision. She almost fell back into the rear cabin, losing her Glock, but somehow managed to hang onto the rungs.

The operative tore the .50 cal from her grasp and brought the barrel around. She saw his masked face. It was him. Standing beside the Commander in the ballroom.

She ducked under the barrel, pushed the barrel harder. It caught the masked operative in his stomach. He rolled over it, his face connecting with her fist. She captured his head and shoulders, wrapped her supporting arm over his neck and broke his—

The operative slipped from her grasp. A knife scythed toward her neck. There was no room to move inside the circular hole of the gunner platform, it was too cramped. She moved clear of the blade, brought her shoulder back down on it, pinned his wrist there. If the blade cut into her arm she didn’t care. She wrapped an arm around his neck, another over his shoulder and twisted him away. His forehead hit the porthole and she held it there. He grunted, blood pouring from his face.

Czarina was below, carbine ready. The chance of her getting a clear shot was unlikely and Sophia knew it. This was on her. The operative’s knee connected with her chin. She reeled from the blow, almost losing focus. Her teeth clashed together—thankfully with her tongue out of the way—and she released her hold on the operative’s head. She still kept the knife pinned, but he was able to maneuver around with one arm and two legs free.

The operative struck her leg, smashing her knee and ankle against the hull. Then he struck her neck, trying to shunt blood into her brain and knock her out. She tried to trap his arm but he wriggled further upward. Then he freed the knife-wielding hand. She ducked into the porthole and—

An overheard traffic light connected with the operative.

Sophia watched him tumble off the back of the Marauder.

‘One block and closing!’ DC yelled.

Sophia climbed down into the rear cabin, Czarina beside her checking for injuries she might not have noticed.

‘Minor laceration on your arm,’ she said. ‘You have a lot of blood on you but most of it isn’t yours.’

Sophia reached down to collect her Glock. ‘Another operative I could’ve saved,’ she said.