Authors: Hazel Cotton
They raced towards Royalty. ‘Sir, what’s going to happen if some of those deliveries get through? If the captain can’t stop them leaving?’ one of the newcomers asked.
Hunter swivelled around. Their eyes met and for a second Skye saw triumph in them. Then the expression was gone. ‘We’ll stop them, soldier,’ he stated. ‘Either at Royalty or on the streets.’ As he turned back, his jaw clenched. ‘We have to. That bitch isn’t going to hurt anymore innocent people.’
‘Are you talking about Narelle Keating?’ Corporal Smith glanced over at Skye. ‘You think she’s behind this, sir?’
‘Up to her evil neck.’
Everyone but Sergeant Newman fell into an uncomfortable silence. ‘Um, what are our orders if she’s there, Lieutenant?’ Skye could tell from the lowered eyes around her, others were wondering the same thing. Newman cleared his throat. ‘I mean, with her being so high profile.’
Hunter kept staring ahead, his voice was chillingly calm. ‘Don’t worry about her, Sergeant. She’s mine.’
‘You’re cleared to go, Lieutenant.’ The whiz-kid stopped tapping his fingers and sat back. ‘Camera’s are out, blaster’s de-activated, door lock bypassed. I can hold them indefinitely. However, the signal’s not going to be good when you get underground. Anything you meet down there, treat as active.’
‘Understood.’
He’d been so distracted for the rest of the journey, Skye thought he’d forgotten she was there, but as the others jumped from the van, Hunter turned in his seat again, gripping her arm with his hand. ‘Don’t move. Stay here.’ Then he was gone and she was left, biting her nails to the quick.
‘Fancy a mealy bug?’ The techno guy drew a packet out of his pocket, burst the bag open and proceeded to crunch.
She would have thrown up if she’d tried. ‘No, thanks.’
He peered at his equipment, adjusted something. ‘Sure? Lots of protein - you look like you need to re-charge.’ He seemed irritatingly un-phased while she bounced on her seat with helicopters doing tail spins in her guts.
‘No, really.’ She bounced some more, drummed impatient fingers on her knees. Will you know when they’ve reached the tunnel?’
‘Hang on. I’ll put this on loudspeaker so you can listen to the action.’ The van filled with sounds, echoing in the confined space. She caught a faint lapping of water like when a breeze slaps it against the riverbank, and beyond that the distant hum of the city. But there was something else in the foreground; a kind of amplified breathing as if more than one pair of lungs were pulling in and blowing out air. She cocked her head, leant in closer to the machine. ‘What’s that?’
‘Trams moving out.’ His eyes had tightened. ‘We’re listening to Captain Yao’s party. We’re patched through to the equipment in the armacar at the docks. They’re almost there.’
Caught up, they both jumped as a blast ripped through their eardrums, reverberating around the insides of the vehicle. As the ringing in her ears cleared, the sounds now were of boots pounding on gravel - heavy breathing of men on the run. Then all hell broke loose: horrible sounds of a firearm battle, with no way of telling who was firing on whom.
The technician must have seen Skye’s face pale – she certainly felt every drop of blood drain from it – because he said, quickly, ‘A body hit, even set to kill, won’t have any effect. They’d have to take a stream in the face, or neck to do any real damage.’
Small comfort. ‘Hunter?’
‘They’re in.’ Abruptly he sat up, his fingers raced around the controls.
‘Officer down!’ a frantic voice shouted. Assistance required. Officer down!’
‘Wait, it’s not…’
She was out of the door.
Skye crept a few paces and saw nothing more frightening than the tunnel ahead, sloping downhill in easy curves. There was no movement or sound. A faint greenish light spilled out from the entrance; the light squares now doused to a standby glow.
‘
It’s now or never
,’ she told herself, forcing her feet to move while trying to steady the rapid hammering of her heart. Slinking in she began to descend. The thin light threw eerie shadows on the walls; shapes that grew into monsters in her mind.
She rounded a turn and came to a fork in the tunnel. Separated by a massive timber structure, the left hand wound down in what she guessed would be the direction of the river; the right to the heart of the Palace. Skye hesitated. Spinning a coin in her head, she tiptoed towards the left fork, keeping as close to the rock face as she could, listened. No sound. The air down there felt cold; damp. The lights petered out after a couple of yards. It felt disused.
She retraced her steps, turned towards the right, and on rounding the first curve found the slope flattened out. She slowed, keeping her fingers on the cool stone, as the safety of the tunnel fizzled out. In front of her was an open space. The three vehicles she’d seen earlier were parked at the far side; beyond them, a short flight of steep steps leading up. Skye hesitated, terrified of being caught in the open. One more step and she’d be exposed, but there was nothing for it. Go on, or turn back.
Too late, she thought of body armour and the fact she should have grabbed one. She gulped a large mouthful of air. With her heart fluttering, she lifted a foot.
A hand, clamped across her mouth from behind, stifled her scream. She was dragged backwards, then spun around to be pressed face first against the cold tunnel wall.
‘If I let go, will you be quiet?’
She nodded. The hand was removed and King stepped round to face her, grinning like an idiot.
‘Surprised?’
‘King!’ she hissed, keeping her voice just above a whisper. ‘What in God’s name are you doing here?’
His grin widened. Putting his mouth to her ear, he said, ‘I followed you in. I’d been watching the action from the docks and saw the armacars scream in. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I saw you bolt out the back. What’s going on?’
‘I haven’t time to explain. Look, just get out…now. Apart from anything else, the place is crawling with snatchers.’
‘Think I’ll take my chances. You might need me to snog you again.’
She didn’t have time to argue. ‘King, I
have
to find Hunter.’
‘Okay.’
They ran across the open area, squeezing between the cars. As they reached the flight of steps the world erupted. Shouting, cries, the unmistakable whine of laser streams. They stared at each other for less than a second.
King nodded. ‘Go. I’ll watch your back.’
.
Skye ran into the laboratory. Bigger. Much bigger than she’d imagined; twice the size of your average gymnasium, and startlingly bright after the tunnel.
Half-packed equipment lay everywhere. She pushed past a snatcher grappling with a guard, both of them stumbling over a mound of partly filled cartons, and dived for cover behind a bench. In front of her eyes a tray of glass test tubes exploded in a blast of white fire, flinging shards of glass, like daggers, across the room.
An acrid smell of melted plastic rose from the bench, still smoking from a laser strike. She gagged catching a sickening whiff of charred flesh.
To her left she watched Smith run to the aid of Dawson struggling against two guards, pulling one of them off and punching him hard in the face.
Dawson flashed him a grin then finished the other with a stun blast. The man’s body twitched, as he lay at her feet.
Lifting her head, Skye searched for Hunter through the mayhem, but there was so much happening she couldn’t focus on any one direction. The searing heat from a stray blast scorched past her left ear. She ducked, ran bent double, crunching over broken glass, making for a sealed glass cubicle in the middle of the room. Lifeless robotic sleeves hung into its empty interior. A thrown chair narrowly missed her right shoulder as it crashed into the cubicle, and disintegrated. For a split second she caught a glimpse of Hunter parrying blows with several mercenaries, twirling back and forth as he blocked them, but a falling guard had her diving away and when she looked again, he’d gone.
While she still crouched beside the cubicle, King appeared at her elbow, breathing hard. ‘Some game, eh? Where is he?’
‘Can’t see him. Jeeze, look over there.’
Two heavies held Johansson while two more laid into him with their fists. Newman was trying to get to help him, flinging off attackers, racing forward, both weapons firing. Then, to Skye’s horror, a squat figure appeared in a doorway. In his hand he held an ugly black weapon. Raising his arm, he took careful aim. Newman had his back to him; his unprotected head in the man’s sights.
The floor was littered with bodies, weapons scattered around. Skye launched at one, then fired from the ground hitting her mark in the thigh, and had the satisfaction of seeing his shot go wide. He stumbled, then with a snarl, turned the blaster on her.
King hauled her to her feet. ‘Look out!’ Before she could move, he flung himself in front of her as the weapon fired.
The blast blew them both backwards. Skye flew through the air and crashed amongst the shattered remains of the cubicle, feeling a sharp stab as glass cut her leg. Ignoring the pain, she rolled over and began crawling on hands and knees. ‘King!’
He was lying on his back, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, a stain of bright red spreading from a hole in his chest. ‘No. No. Please, God, no.’
Dropping down beside him, she pressed her palm to the wound trying to stop the flow. With her head frantically twisting, she screamed for help. ‘Quick! Somebody help. Help me, he’s dying. Please, somebody help him.’
A snatcher ran forward, dropped to her knees at Skye’s side. ‘I saw what he did; bloody brave. Is he dead?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t feel his pulse.’
‘Let me see.’ None too gently, she pushed Skye aside ‘It’s there. Very faint, but it’s there. Give me something; that lab coat over there. Yanking it from Skye, she made a wad with the material pushing it hard on King’s chest. ‘It’s the best I can do. Stay with him, keep the pressure on that. We’ll get him to hospital as soon as we can.’
‘What
was
that thing? It blew the cubicle apart.’
The snatcher’s eyes went flat. ‘A RAD-XL. It’s illegal for civilians to own one. It doesn’t burn like a laser; it punches a hole through its target. They’re a government-issue military weapon.’ It was over. Everywhere she looked those heavies still on their feet were surrendering. She sat with King, cradling his head on her lap, telling him what an idiot he was as tears streamed down her face. He was too pale and the blue around his lips scared her.
‘We’re taking him out now.’ Newman touched her shoulder. ‘You should go with him; get that leg checked.’
Skye shook her head, stood as they lifted him, wiped bloody hands down her jeans. She couldn’t do anything more for King, and Hunter had disappeared. She hadn’t seen him since that one brief glimpse. ‘Where’s…’ The words died on her tongue as the techno geek from the armacar rushed up, his feet crunching on the broken glass.
‘Sir, I’ve been looking for the Lieutenant.’ He was struggling for breath. ‘But you should know we’ve traced a faint signal. A device has been activated.’
They both looked in the direction she’d last seen Hunter. A heap of guards lay on the ground, a snatcher busy handcuffing their arms behind their backs; there was no sign of him.
‘What sort of a device?’
‘We’re not sure, but the echo we’re getting… it’s some sort of timer - very sophisticated, high frequency. Sir, we think the place has been wired to blow. We’re trying to locate the source but we don’t know how much time we’ve got. You need to get out, now.’
Newman grabbed a soldier. ‘Where’s the Lieutenant?’
‘I don’t know, sir.’ His uniform was shredded on the sleeve and blood oozed from a gash across his upper arm.
Newman moved to another who, with flicks of his weapon, was herding exhausted mercenaries and technicians into a ragged line. ‘Have you seen Hunter?’
‘Not recently, sir.’
‘I did, sir, just now.’ Touching a finger to a burn on her cheek, Dawson lugged a cuffed woman forward. When she lifted her head, Skye recognised her as the receptionist she’d shown Willow‘s picture to.
‘You!’ Bedraggled, defeated, the woman shook her head. ‘Pity he didn’t finish you when he had the chance.’
But Skye wasn’t listening anymore. ‘Hunter was over by the lift,’ Dawson said. ‘Narelle Keating was here, but she slipped away when it all went off. He said he was going after her. Sir, he told me not to follow him. He’s gone into the Palace.’
Newman’s eyes went flat. Skye watched him scan the battlefield, then settle on Corporal Smith. ‘Corporal.’ Jerking his head he called him over. ‘We’ve got a possible firecracker. Get everybody out of here on the double; use those vehicles out there to start taking them up. Don’t leave any of these goons behind. Greenfield, where’s Greenfield.’
But the forensic captain and his team were already hefting boxes and carrying their precious samples out.
Everything in Skye rebelled. She grabbed Newman’s arm. ‘You’re leaving him?’
He looked at her as though she was mad. ‘We bring the whole team home, Forrester. Alive or dead, we all come home. Dawson, Johansson, get some of the others, we’ll start searching the building. Corporal, can you hack into any cameras they may have upstairs from here? They could give us a location.’
‘Not through all this reinforced concrete. From the van, yes, but it’ll take time.’
‘Do it.’
‘On my way.’ He spun on his heel, then stopped. ‘Sir, I should tell you. Captain Yao took a hit. He’s dead, sir. These people aren’t bluffing. If this
is
a bomb, they won’t hesitate to blow the whole building to kingdom come and to hell with anyone in it. You need to get those people out, fast.’
‘You’re too late. Nothing can stop what we’ve started. History will applaud us. Future generations will thank God that some of us had the courage to act.’ The man was bloodied and lame, his trouser leg scorched where Skye’s laser had hit him. He was handcuffed and supported between two soldiers, yet his lips twisted in a smile. ‘You’ve lost. Even now our silent death speeds across the country destroying whilst spreading hope. Tomorrow the whole world will sit up and take notice and realise it was the
only
solution.’