Web of Fire Bind-up (25 page)

‘Hey!' said Mump, offended.

‘Shh!' said Skipper. ‘The briefing's about to start.'

A hush fell across the auditorium as Commander Firebrand strode to the centre of the stage and the houselights went down.

‘Is he going to sing?' whispered Mump.

‘Shut him up, someone,' said Zip.

‘Good morning, everyone,' said Firebrand, ‘and welcome to Operation Apocalypse.'

He nodded to someone off-stage and the screen
behind him lit up: a blue background with the words ‘OPERATION APOCALYPSE: PHASE ONE' picked out in red.

‘Nice graphics,' said Mump to no one in particular. ‘Tasteful.'

‘The information that you are about to see and hear is classified,' Firebrand went on, ‘and for reasons of security the details of this operation have been kept from most of you until now. As you know, up to this point our mission has always been to preserve the balance of life on Earth.'

Sam thought about the squadrons of wasps controlling fly populations and the footage he had seen of the wasp attacking the horsefly in his garden. Now that he was a trained pilot, he was determined to put his newly learned skills into practice. He would do whatever he could to prevent Odoursin from carrying out his terrible threat to mankind.

‘In recent months,' Firebrand continued, ‘we have had to contend with Odoursin's forces trying to upset that balance in their efforts to make things harder for the people of Earth. You have been on the front line along with our land and sea forces, making sure that they do not succeed. And up until now you have been very successful. However, we have received some information which could change all that. Allow me to show you why.'

The image on the screen was replaced by an aerial photograph of Odoursin's airfields showing the huge squadrons of mosquitoes lined up in their hundreds, stretching as far as the eye could see.

‘This photograph was taken from high altitude at 0800 hours yesterday morning. We know that Odoursin has been breeding mosquitoes for some time now, but this concentration of so many at one airfield is a very recent and worrying development. An even more worrying development, however, is this…'

A strange image appeared on the screen that looked to Sam like some kind of curious yellow jellyfish.

‘This unusual-looking creature is a virus. Until recently, very little was known about it, but we have managed to access enough information from our spies in Odoursin's camp to know that it is deadly to all human life. Odoursin's scientists have discovered a method of transferring it to humans via mosquitoes, and once it gets into wild mosquitoes on Earth there will be no stopping it.'

A wave of excited chatter flowed around the audience and Firebrand held up his hands for silence so that he could continue.

‘Even as we speak, this virus is being loaded onto mosquitoes ready to launch an all-out assault on Earth tomorrow. If the assault is successful, we will be powerless to halt the consequences. In less than a year, every single human will be wiped off the face of the Earth and everything that we have worked so hard to preserve will be lost.'

There was another surge of shocked conversation around the auditorium and Sam felt his resolve hardening into cold anger. He clenched his fists and stared at the
virus on the screen, the virus that would kill the people he loved. He knew that from this moment on there was no turning back. Whatever it took to stop this, he would do it.

Once again Firebrand held up a hand to signal his wish to carry on.

‘We now know that Odoursin has been planning for many years to destroy what he sees as the human plague and then use Earth's natural resources for his own ends. Once the humans are removed, the difference in scale will actually benefit him and his followers. Food and other resources will always be plentiful and no other species will have the intelligence or desire to challenge him.

‘Once he has achieved domination of the Earth in this way he plans to close the fabric gaps we use for access, consolidate his power base and build his Vermian Empire into an unstoppable force. Then he will return and annihilate us too, preventing any future challenge to his leadership. Make no mistake: Odoursin has a singular, ruthless vision of a new world order and, as far as he is concerned, nothing is going to stand in the way of him achieving it.'

The image on the screen changed to a bird's-eye view of the enemy airbase. Sam recognised the shape of the large building where he had fallen into the tank of mosquito larvae. Along with some of the other buildings in the photograph, it was marked with a red arrow, indicating that it was a target.

‘Your mission then is this,' said Firebrand, using a pointer to identify the relevant locations on the photograph as he spoke. ‘One, to destroy the laboratories where the virus is manufactured. Two, to destroy the mosquito breeding tanks and the larvae in them. And three, to destroy the adult mosquitoes on the ground before they have a chance to take off. You will be working alongside a squadron of commandos from our land-based forces who will plant and detonate explosives and neutralise any opposition.

‘Dragonfly Squadron will attempt to enforce a no-fly zone on Earth near the fabric gap where we believe the mosquitoes will enter and take out any who make it through. But the success of the mission really depends on getting to them before they reach that point. Once they get through to Earth it's likely to be dusk. The mosquitoes will have the advantage of better night-flight capability, which will make things a whole lot more difficult for us. So it's absolutely crucial that we destroy them on the ground.'

Firebrand's expression was grave as he looked around the room. ‘Are there any questions before we move on to the detail?'

A pilot several rows back asked a question about air defences and Firebrand nodded.

‘Yes, as you know, there are defensive batteries of nerve-gas dispensers stationed several miles outside the perimeter of the airbase. The gas is very similar to that which our pilots have occasionally encountered during flights on Earth.'

‘What's he talking about?' whispered Sam.

‘Think of fly spray,' Skipper whispered back. ‘Whopping great canisters of the stuff. They put an invisible curtain of it up when they see you coming. Next thing you know, the aircraft's crashed and you're picking bits of cockpit out of your teeth.'

‘Oh, right,' said Sam. ‘Nasty.'

‘In addition to the outer defences,' Firebrand went on, ‘the airfield has a ring of ground-to-air missiles spread around the perimeter. Ten minutes before the main assault, special-forces raiding parties will disable the gas batteries and electronic jamming devices will be employed to confuse enemy radar.

‘At the same time the recently acquired horsefly will be used to covertly land another raiding party inside the perimeter fence, where commandos will take out the remaining air defences. Then at 0300 hours the main assault group will hit the airbase and commence moppingup operations.'

Firebrand paused. He looked out into the auditorium and his gaze swept across the faces of the pilots with such force that each felt as though they were being addressed individually.

‘In a moment you will break up into groups to receive detailed plans of your part in this evening's operation. But before you do, there is one thing I want each and every one of you to be absolutely clear about: this operation cannot, must not, fail. You have one chance and one chance only to get it right. And get it right you must. For the
future of millions – in this world and others – depends upon you. Do not fail them.'

There was silence for a moment as Firebrand gave each person the opportunity to feel the weight of responsibility that lay upon them. Then he added simply, ‘Good luck, everyone.'

The groups dispersed to various planning rooms and the next few hours were spent laboriously going over the layout of the Vermian airbase and studying plans of the target buildings. Sam and Skipper's recent experience meant that the two of them were detailed to fly the newly repaired horsefly right into the heart of the enemy airbase with the first wave of commandos on board.

Sam knew that if they were captured they would almost certainly be killed. But despite his fears he said nothing, for he felt certain that this was the most important thing he had ever been asked to do in his life. Everyone was depending upon him. He was determined not to let them down.

They were informed that the horsefly had been refitted with dual controls ‘in case any problems are encountered during the mission'. Sam saw Skipper blink a couple of times and guessed that she was thinking what he was thinking. The planners obviously thought there was a high probability that at least one of them would get injured or worse on the way into the base.

One way or another, he thought, it would be a night to remember.

When the briefing finished they were sent back to their quarters to try and get a few hours' sleep. As Sam walked into his room he discovered his bedcovers turned back, his pillows plumped up and a steaming mug of hot chocolate on the bedside table. Sanderson was in the process of drawing the curtains to shut out the afternoon sun.

‘You know, Sanderson,' said Sam, ‘you'll make someone a wonderful wife one of these days.'

‘Indeed, sir?' replied Sanderson, smoothing out the last of the wrinkles from the curtains. ‘Am I to interpret this as a proposal?'

Sam grinned. ‘Sorry, darling, not this time. I've got a busy few days ahead of me. Maybe when I come back, eh?'

Sanderson smiled a rare smile. ‘You take care, sir,' he said.

Then, after brushing a last speck of dust from Sam's uniform that only he could see, he was gone and Sam was left alone with his thoughts.

Crossing his hands behind his head and propping himself up on his pillows, Sam kicked off his boots and wondered what on earth he was going to do for the next few hours. It was all very well telling them to get some rest before the mission, but it was easier said than done. There was too much going on in his head.

He sipped his hot chocolate and rubbed his eyes. Come to think of it, it had been an exhausting couple of days what with the trek up the mountain and then the
early start this morning. Maybe he'd just go through the plans a couple more times in his head. Or maybe he'd just … shut his eyes for a while.

Two minutes later, Sam was fast asleep.

The sun was beginning to sink behind the mountains when the first shadowy figure climbed through the hole cut in the fence and ran across open ground to the pilots' accommodation block. He was quickly joined by three other men, one of whom wore a small backpack. Each carried a pistol fitted with a silencer.

The first man pulled out a pencil-sized CRB and aimed it at the entrance door. There was a blue flash, but the door remained intact and the man swore.

‘It's not working,' he hissed. ‘They've used some kind of material that's resistant to the beam.'

He tapped the other man's backpack. ‘We'll just have to resort to the old-fashioned methods. We'll go up onto his balcony and blow the windows. By then every man and his dog is going to know that we're here, so it's straight in, kill the kid and away again.'

The others nodded.

‘OK, let's do it.'

They made their way to the corner of the block and edged along the outside wall, stopping every few seconds to check that they hadn't been seen. Although kitted out in dark clothing, their experience told them that the slightest movement – even at night – would increase their chances of discovery.

Once they reached the balcony, the second man took out a rope and grappling iron, the hooks of which were covered in foam padding to deaden the noise. He threw it up over the balcony and the hooks caught on the railings first time.

In less than a minute, the four men were crouching on the balcony outside the window. One of them pressed what looked like a lump of soft clay against the window and pushed a detonator into it. He attached the detonator to a length of wire and then gestured to the others to get down. They huddled at the edges of the balcony and turned away, covering their ears as he touched the wire to a battery.

There was a tremendous roar, a shattering of glass and a sheet of orange flame leapt out into the evening air. In an instant, the men were on their feet and running into the room through a pall of black smoke. They went into a crouch and, holding their weapons out in front of them, fired continuously into the sleeping form beneath the bedclothes until their clips were empty. The shape in the bed jumped and twitched as the bullets thudded into it, pieces of wood and material flying up into the air.

When the firing stopped, the first man lowered his gun, stepped forward and pulled the bedclothes back. Underneath was a row of shredded pillows and a whole mess of feathers. Nothing else.

There was a noise behind them and the man turned around in time to see the wardrobe door slide back and an immaculately dressed manservant step out into the room.

‘I'm sorry to disappoint you, gentlemen,' said Sanderson, ‘but I think the person you are looking for may already have left.'

He then narrowed his eyes, leapt into the air with a cry of ‘Ooooooh-sah!' and scissor-kicked two of them neatly back through the broken window with such force that they crashed straight through the balcony rail and disappeared over the side. As the other men raised their guns to fire, Sanderson flipped over twice, landed at their feet howling ‘Eeeeeeeeeee' and launched himself upwards with an explosive ‘Yah!' He finished with a double punch of such ferocity that they both travelled horizontally through the air before smashing noisily into the bedroom furniture.

Sanderson bowed slightly, paused to remove a hair from his lapel and then bent down and picked up a small transmitter that had fallen onto the floor. He examined it briefly and then slipped it into his pocket. Intelligence would see to it that whoever sent these thugs received a message confirming a successful operation. That would buy Sam a bit more time.