2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light) (31 page)

‘Yes, I know, I’m on suspension,’ Brett said into the phone, still looking at Jessica.

‘—but if you turn us in now you could be condemning millions, perhaps billions, to their death.’

‘FBI Sacramento, how may I direct your call?’

Brett paused as the operator spoke again. ‘Hello … Agent Taylor?’

Jessica saw the sincerity of her words had hit home. ‘Please, we need you, trust us, trust me.’

Brett held her gaze, considering her plea. ‘I’ll phone you back,’ she said and ended the call.

Jessica let go of her breath. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me yet, if I don’t like what I hear I’m getting right back on this,’ she brandished her phone, ‘and I’ll have this place crawling with agents quicker than you can blink.’

Jessica gave a nod, her palms sweaty. Usually nothing fazed her. Having worked as a television news anchor for the BBC over many years and as a war correspondent before that, amongst other duties, she had grown a thick skin. Add to that her recent experiences with B.I.C., the hacker extraordinaire who courted worldwide condemnation, and almost anything seemed possible. But she also knew she had to save her family from what she and Eric had discovered with B.I.C.’s help, and she couldn’t afford to get locked up – all their lives depended on it.

‘
Da Muss Ich
, B.I.C., or Bic, as I call him,’ Jessica said, beginning her explanation, ‘contacted me after I was fired from my job back in London. He told me that my friend and colleague who’d been investigating the GMRC had been murdered, and that if I wanted to find out what they were willing to kill for, then I had to go to Germany.’

‘And you went, just like that, on his say so?’

Jessica shook her head. ‘For years my colleagues have been disappearing without trace or dying in freak accidents with increasing frequency, and not just in the UK but all over the world. Martin’s death was one in a long line and I had to make a stand. The media is being controlled like never before and now I know the reason why.’

Brett sat back down. ‘Which is?’

‘The fallout from the asteroid impact is worse than they’re telling us.’

‘I could have told you that.’

‘No, the food shortages, the water rationing, the dying eco systems, it’s not going to get better.’

‘That’s not what they’re saying on the news.’

‘I know, because they’re told what to say! They always have been. I always have been. Our producers watch us like hawks; any word or report is vetted by the GMRC and UK government. The same goes for your networks, Fox, CNN, they’re all controlled, all censored. You’re told what they want you to hear so you think what they want you to think. But I know what they’ve been hiding, at least in part. The GMRC and the world’s most powerful nations put by stockpiles for when the impact winter hit, correct?’

‘Yeah,’ Brett said, ‘everyone knows that. They’ve been telling us for years the impact winter and dust cloud would really slow food production, and it has, just as they predicted.’

‘Yes,’ Jessica said, ‘but why are the shortages getting worse? They had decades to prepare and it’s only been a year since the dust cloud formed.’

‘They’re just making sure we have enough for the future.’ Brett folded her arms. ‘If this is your argument it’s not very convincing.’

Jessica suppressed an angry retort and continued. ‘The reason they are getting worse is because all the food is being siphoned off, and the water, too. And that’s not all, every resource, every material is being moved and more is taken each day until nothing will be left. We’re on the edge of a precipice, the end of the world as we know it.’

‘And where is all this mysteriously disappearing food and water going? The man on the moon?’

‘Underground bases, massive subterranean complexes, bigger than anything ever built before. I’ve seen one first-hand on the German-Austrian border. Its size, it’s unbelievable, it’s—’

Brett chuckled. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you? This Bic has you running in so many circles you’ll believe anything he says. I thought journalists looked for truth, not fantasy.’

She picked up her phone again and Jessica got to her feet. ‘Wait, it’s true! I’ve seen it, we can prove it. Eric, show her.’

♦

The words Jessica Klein had uttered echoed in Brett’s mind …
if you turn us in now you could be condemning millions, perhaps billions, to their death.
The gravity of the warning mirrored those spoken by the man who now lay dead beside her; could she afford to ignore them again?
Can I just sit here and do nothing? Underground bases, are they insane?
These thoughts and more swirled around her like a toxic shroud.

The young German unfolded his touchscreen’s big display and tapped a button to bring up an image on-screen.

Brett felt her stomach churn. She’d seen the emblem before.

Eric, perhaps seeing the impact it had on her, switched to another image. ‘And there’s more, look.’ He pressed play and the picture turned into a video stream.

Brett looked at them in fury. ‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’

‘What do you mean?’ Eric said. ‘Look at him, that badge is on his shoulder.’ He pointed at the video of a man in an armoured suit, his camouflage glinting in the bright light of a drone that followed him across the top of a building. The soldier returned fire at those who chased him, an FBI S.W.A.T. team.

‘That man works in one of these underground bases,’ Jessica Klein said, ‘USSB Steadfast, a United States Subterranean Base.’

Brett knew this man all too well; the same man who’d kidnapped her and held her hostage. The armour had been close enough to touch, the action a vivid nightmare that had gone on forever.

Eric paused the footage as the fearsome warrior looked up at the camera, green eyes glowing in the dark.

Brett tore her gaze from the image to look at Jessica. ‘You don’t know, do you?’

‘Know what?’

Brett rested an elbow on her knee,
I might as well tell them, everyone else who matters in my life already knows, so why not a couple more?
‘Your friend knows – your terrorist. He set me up. That man,’ – she pointed at the image of Colonel Samson – ‘is my father.’

‘What?!’ The newsreader looked at her in shock while the German let out a string of foreign expletives.

Brett turned back to the image and touched the screen to bring up the emblem again. One part of the puzzle dropped into place and then another.
That’s why the GMRC wouldn’t allow the defendant’s jobs to be divulged during the trial, they were working in one of these bases
.

‘You were the hostage?’ Jessica Klein said. ‘Oh my God, and he was your father, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.’

Brett stood up, her emotions in turmoil. ‘Don’t be, he’s a monster.’ She gestured at the prone body of the old man. ‘Much like him.’

Jessica indicated for Eric to put the screen away. ‘Yes, but we don’t think Professor Steiner, him,’ – she nodded to the body – ‘just worked in one of these bases, or even ran one. We think – no, we know – he had a seat on the GMRC Directorate itself, he probably controlled them all.’

Brett gazed at the old man’s face, the pale sheen on his skin detracting from the expression of peace that had settled upon him.
Perhaps the death penalty gave him a release he didn’t deserve.
The thought depressed her.
Those that welcome death should be left to suffer in torment; this murdering bastard has escaped while my father lives, where is the justice in that?
‘It explains his demeanour,’ she said, ‘he smacked of power.’

‘You spoke to him?’ Eric said.

Brett nodded.

Jessica touched her arm. ‘You believe us, then?

‘Do I believe they work for some secret collaboration run by the government and the GMRC? Yes. Do I believe the world is at an end? No.’

‘What?’ Jessica said, shocked. ‘How can you not, after what we’ve shown and told you?’

‘Quite easily. One, most of your information comes from a known criminal. Two, despite what you’ve seen, or think you’ve seen, the government doesn’t go about starving its citizens to death; if anything was going on, I’d have heard about it. And three, if you want to hear it enough, you can convince yourself of anything, and you seem like someone who believes anything she’s told. In fact, you admitted as much – how long did you spew out the BBC’s lies for?’

‘What? That’s tosh! Just because I read it doesn’t mean I believed it, it was my job. I see that now.’

‘Now being the operative word.’

Jessica scowled at her, but Brett knew she had her; there was no arguing with logic. A noise outside the truck made her tense. ‘Did you hear that?’

‘Hear what?’ The newsreader, still fuming, glanced at Eric, who gave a shrug.

‘Wait here.’ Brett opened the rear doors and stepped out into the dark, gun in hand. She peered around both sides of the vehicle, but nothing stirred.

Moments ticked by before a mournful cry sent the skin on her arms to tingling. She climbed back into the interior and slammed shut the doors. ‘Damn wolves.’

‘Agent – Brett – please,’ Jessica said, moving towards her, ‘you have to believe us. If Bic wants you working with us he did it for a reason. We need you, I need you. I have to protect my family and get them into one of those bases.’

‘Good luck with that.’ Brett activated her phone and redialled the previous number.

NO SIGNAL

She swore and opened the doors again to hold her phone aloft. The dust cloud was playing havoc with the satellite replacement relays again.
The sooner they get more drones in the sky, the better
.

Jessica followed her out into the open. ‘Please, I’m begging you, reconsider.’

Brett ignored her. She knew if she could provide a lead that could catch the Notorious B.I.C., as she’d heard him called, then she could use it as leverage to get her job back, or at least find work in another agency. This was her ticket back into the game; if she threw it away she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
Still no signal. I’ll have to take them in myself
. And for that she’d need the spare handcuffs from the trunk of her car. ‘Okay, I’ll give you another chance, but I’ll need to speak directly with Bic or no deal.’

‘Can we do that?’ Jessica turned to Eric, who appeared sceptical. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘we can do that.’

‘Good, you contact him and I’ll bring my car round.’

‘You won’t regret this, Agent, thank you!’

No, but you will
, Brett thought,
dumb bitch. And I thought the British were supposed to be intelligent, so much for girl power.
As she walked to her car she almost felt sorry for them. And she might have if it hadn’t been for their involvement with the biggest terrorist known to man. Instead they’d get what was coming to them, a pair of cuffs and a nice cosy interrogation room. And while they gave up their secrets, Brett would be taken in from the cold, a just reprieve for hard work rendered. Everyone was a winner; well, nearly everyone. She smiled to herself before the lights to her car bloomed into life. Brett ran forwards, but it was too late. The car’s wheels kicked up a cloud of dust into her face and sped off down the road. Brett fired off three shots, taking out the rear screen, but the vehicle continued on without deviation.

She looked up at the sky. ‘Fuck!’

Chapter Thirty Seven

The taillights of Brett’s stolen car disappeared round a bend in the road and she wondered if anything else could go wrong. Hanging her head, she sighed, and then returned to the truck. The rear doors stood closed, but it was what was written on them that confounded her. In the dirt, someone had used their finger to scrawl eight words:

Yanking on the handles revealed Jessica and her cohort, Eric, looking fearful inside.

‘What happened?’ Jessica said.

‘It doesn’t matter. I want to speak to your friend, Bic, right now!’

Brett stood with hands on hips, her mood sour, while Jessica tried to get in touch with their
friend
via the touchscreen device.