Eagle Strike (16 page)

“The Gameslayer…” Alex said.

“Yes. It was the perfect cover. So many people; so much technology. A plant with all the processing power I could ask for. And in reality it was all for this!”

He held up the little metal capsule.

“This key will give me access to two and a half thousand nuclear missiles. These are American missiles and they are on hair-trigger alert – meaning that they can be launched at a moment’s notice. It is my intention to override the NSA’s system and to fire twenty-five of those missiles at targets I have carefully chosen around the globe.”

Cray smiled sadly.

“It is almost impossible to imagine the devastation that will be caused by twenty-five one-hundred-ton missiles exploding at the same time. South America, Central America, Asia, Africa … almost every continent will feel the pain. And there will be pain, Alex. I am well aware of that.

“But I will have wiped out the poppy fields. The farms and the factories. The refineries, the trade routes, the markets. There will be no more drug suppliers because there will be no more drug supplies. Of course, millions will die. But millions more will be saved.

“That is what Eagle Strike is all about, Alex. The start of a new golden age. A day when all humanity will come together and rejoice.

“That day is now. My time has finally arrived.”

EAGLE STRIKE

A
lex and Sabina were taken to a room somewhere in the basement of the house and thrown inside. The door closed and suddenly they were alone.

Alex signalled to Sabina not to speak, then began a quick search. The door was a slab of solid oak, locked from the outside and probably bolted too. There was a single square window set high up in the wall, but it was barred and wouldn’t have been big enough to crawl through anyway. There was no view. The room might once have been used to store wine; the walls were bare and undecorated, the floor concrete, and apart from a few shelves there was no furniture. A naked bulb hung on a wire from the ceiling. Alex was looking for hidden bugs. It was unlikely that Cray would want to eavesdrop on the two of them, but even so he wanted to be sure that they couldn’t be overheard.

It was only when Alex had gone over every inch of the room that he turned to Sabina. She seemed amazingly calm. He thought about all the things that had happened to her. She had been kidnapped and kept prisoner – bound and gagged. She had been brought face to face with the man who had ordered the execution of her father, and had listened as he outlined his mad idea to destroy half the world. And here she was locked up again with the near certainty that she and Alex wouldn’t be allowed to leave here alive. Sabina should have been terrified. But she simply waited quietly while Alex completed his checks, watching him as if seeing him for the first time.

“Are you OK?” he asked at last.

“Alex…” It was only when she tried to speak that the emotion came. She took a breath and fought for control. “I don’t believe this is happening,” she said.

“I know. I wish it wasn’t.” Alex didn’t know what to say. “When did they get you?” he asked.

“At the hospital. There were three of them.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“They scared me. And they gave me some sort of injection.” She scowled. “God – Damian Cray is such a creep! And I never realized he was so –
small
!”

That made Alex smile despite everything. Sabina hadn’t changed.

But she was serious. “As soon as I saw him, I thought of you. I knew you’d been telling the truth all along and I felt so rotten for not believing you.” She stopped. “You really are what you said. A spy!”

“Not exactly…”

“Do MI6 know you’re here?”

“No.”

“But you must have some sort of gadgets. You told me they gave you gadgets. Haven’t you got exploding shoelaces or something to get us out of here?”

“I haven’t got anything. MI6 don’t even know I’m here. After what happened at the bank – in Liverpool Street – I sort of went after Cray on my own. I was just so angry about the way they tricked you and lied about me. I was stupid. I mean, I had the flash drive in my hand … and I gave it back to Cray!”

Sabina understood. “You came here to rescue me,” she said.

“Some rescue!”

“After the way I treated you, you should have just dumped me.”

“I don’t know, Sab. I thought I had it all worked out. I thought they’d let you go and everything would turn out all right. I had no idea…” Alex kicked out at the door. It was as solid as a rock. “We have to stop him,” he said. “We have to do something.”

“Maybe he was making it up,” Sabina suggested. “Think about it. He said he was going to fire twenty-five missiles all around the world. American missiles. But they’re all controlled from the White House. Only the American president can set them off. Everyone knows that. So what’s he going to do? Fly to Washington and try to break in?”

“I wish you were right.” Alex shook his head. “But Cray’s got a huge organization. He’s put years of planning and millions of pounds into this. He’s got Yassen Gregorovich working for him. He must know something we don’t.”

He went over to her. He wanted to put an arm round her but he ended up standing awkwardly in front of her instead. “Listen,” he said. “This is going to sound really big-headed and you know I’d never normally tell you what to do. But the thing is, I have sort of been here before…”

“What? Locked up by a maniac who wants to destroy the world?”

“Well, yes. Actually I have.” He sighed. “My uncle was trying to turn me into a spy when I was still in short trousers. I never even realized it. And it’s true what I told you. They made me train with the SAS. Anyway, the truth is … I know things. And it may be that we do get a chance to get back at Cray. But if that happens, you have to leave everything to me. You have to do what I say. Without arguing…”

“Forget it!” Sabina shook her head. “I’ll do what you say. But it was my dad he tried to kill. And I can tell you, if Cray leaves a kitchen knife lying around, I’m going to shove it somewhere painful…”

“It may already be too late,” Alex said gloomily. “Cray may just leave us here. He could have already left.”

“I don’t think so. I think he needs you; I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because you came closest to beating him.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Alex said.

Sabina looked at him. “I’m not.”

Ten minutes later the door opened and Yassen Gregorovich appeared carrying two sets of what looked like white overalls with red markings – serial numbers – on the sleeves. “You are to put these on,” he said.

“Why?” Alex asked.

“Cray wants you. You’re coming with us. Do as you’re told.”

But Alex still hesitated. “What is this?” he demanded. There was something disturbingly familiar about what he was being asked to wear.

“It is a polyamide fabric,” Yassen explained. The words meant nothing to Alex. “It is used in biochemical warfare,” he added. “Now put it on.”

With a growing sense of dread, Alex put the suit on over his own clothes. Sabina did the same. The overalls covered them completely, with hoods that would go over their heads. Alex realized that when they were fully suited up, they would be virtually shapeless. It would be impossible to tell that they were teenagers.

“Now come with me,” Yassen said.

They were led back through the house and out into the cloister. There were now three vehicles parked on the grass: a jeep and two covered trucks, both painted white with the same red markings as the suits. There were about twenty men, all in biochemical suits. Henryk, the Dutch pilot, was in the back of the jeep, nervously polishing his glasses. Damian Cray stood next to him talking, but seeing Alex he stopped and came over. He was bristling with excitement, walking jauntily, his eyes even brighter than normal.

“So you’re here!” he exclaimed, as if welcoming Alex to a party. “Excellent! I’ve decided I want you to come along. Mr Gregorovich tried to talk me out of it, but that’s the thing about Russians. No sense of humour. But you see, Alex, none of this would have happened without you. You brought me the flash drive; it’s only fair you should see how I use it.”

“I’d rather see you arrested and sent to Broad-moor,” Alex said.

Cray simply laughed. “That’s what I like about you!” he exclaimed. “You’re so rude. But I do have to warn you, Yassen will be watching you like a hawk. Or maybe I should say like an eagle. If you do anything at all, if you so much as blink without permission, he’ll shoot your girlfriend first. And then he’ll shoot you. Do you understand?”

“Where are we going?” Alex asked.

“We’re taking the motorway into London. It’ll take us just a couple of hours. You and Sabina will be in the first truck with Yassen. Eagle Strike has begun, by the way. Everything is in place. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

He turned his back on them and went over to the jeep. A few minutes later the convoy left, rolling out of the gates and back up the lane to the main road. Alex and Sabina sat next to each other on a narrow wooden bench. There were six men with them, all armed with automatic rifles, slung over the white suits. Alex thought he recognized one of the faces from the compound outside Amsterdam. Certainly he knew the type. Pale skin, dead-looking hair, dark, empty eyes. Yassen sat opposite them. He too had put on a biochemical suit. He seemed to be staring at Alex, but he said nothing and his face was unreadable.

They travelled for two hours, taking the M4 towards London. Alex glanced occasionally at Sabina and she caught his eye once and smiled nervously. This wasn’t her world. The men, the machine guns, the biochemical suits … they were all part of a nightmare that had come out of nowhere and which still made no sense – with no sign of a way out. Alex was baffled too. But the suits suggested a dreadful possibility. Did Cray have biochemical weapons? Was he planning to use them?

At last they turned off the motorway. Looking out of the back flap, Alex saw a signpost to Heathrow Airport and suddenly he knew, without being told, that this was their true destination. He remembered the plane he had seen at the compound. And Cray, talking to him in the garden.
Henryk is very valuable to me. He flies jumbo jets
. The airport had to be part of it, but it still didn’t explain so many things. The president of the United States. Nuclear missiles. The very name – Eagle Strike – itself. Alex was angry with himself. It was all there in front of him. Some sort of picture was taking shape. But it was still blurred, out of focus.

They stopped. Nobody moved. Then Yassen spoke for the first time. “Out!” A single word.

Alex went first, then helped Sabina down. He enjoyed feeling her hand in his. There was a sudden loud roar overhead and he looked up just in time to see an aircraft sweeping down out of the sky. He saw where they were. They had stopped on the top floor of an abandoned multistorey car park – a legacy of Sir Arthur Lunt, Cray’s father. It was on the very edge of Heathrow Airport, near the main runway. The only car, apart from their own, was a burnt-out shell. The ground was strewn with rubble and old rusting oil drums. Alex couldn’t imagine why they had come here. Cray was waiting for a signal. Something was going to happen. But what?

Alex looked at his watch. It was exactly half past two. Cray called them over. He had travelled in the jeep with Henryk and now Alex saw that there was a radio transmitter on the back seat. Henryk turned a dial; there was a loud whine. Cray was certainly making a performance out of this. The radio had been connected to a loudspeaker so that they could all hear.

“It’s about to begin,” Cray said. He giggled. “Exactly on time!”

Alex looked up. A second plane was coming in. It was still too far away and too high up to be seen clearly, but even so, he thought he recognized something about its shape. Suddenly a voice crackled out of the loudspeaker in the jeep.

“Attention, air traffic control. This is Millennium Air flight 118 from Amsterdam. We have a problem.”

The voice had been speaking in English but with a heavy Dutch accent. There was a pause, an empty hissing, and then a woman’s voice replied. “Roger, MA 118. What is your problem, over?”

“Mayday! Mayday!” The voice from the aircraft was suddenly louder. “This is flight MA 118. We have a fire on board. Request immediate clearance to land.”

Another pause. Alex could imagine the panic in the control tower at Heathrow. But when the woman spoke again, her voice was professional, calm. “Roger your mayday. We have you on radar. Steer on 0-90. Descend three thousand feet.”

“Air traffic control.” The radio crackled again. “This is Captain Schroeder from flight MA 118. I have to advise you that I am carrying extremely hazardous biochemical products on behalf of the Ministry of Defence. We have an emergency situation here. Please advise.”

The Heathrow woman replied immediately. “We need to know what is on board. Where is it and what are the quantities?”

“Air traffic control, we are carrying a nerve gas. We cannot be more specific. It is highly experimental and extremely dangerous. There are three canisters in the hold. We now have a fire in the main cabin. Mayday! Mayday!”

Alex looked again. The plane was much lower now and he knew exactly where he had seen it before. It was the cargo plane that he had seen in the compound outside Amsterdam. Smoke was streaming out of the side and even as Alex watched, flames suddenly exploded, spreading over the wings. To anyone watching, it would seem that the plane was in terrible danger. But Alex knew that the whole thing had been faked.

The control tower was monitoring the plane. “Flight MA 118, the emergency services have been alerted. We are beginning an immediate evacuation of the airport. Please proceed to twenty-seven left. You are cleared to land.”

At once Alex heard the sound of alarms coming from all over the airport. The plane was still two or three thousand feet up, the flames trailing behind it. He had to admit that it looked totally convincing. Suddenly everything was starting to make sense. He was beginning to understand Cray’s plan.

“Time to roll!” Cray announced.

Alex and Sabina were led back to the truck. Cray climbed into the jeep next to Henryk, who was driving, and they set off. It was difficult for Alex to see what was happening now as he only had a view out of the back, but he guessed that they had left the car park and were following the perimeter fence around the airport. The alarms seemed to have got louder; presumably they were getting nearer to them. A number of police sirens erupted in the distance and Alex noticed that the road had got busier as cars tore past, the drivers desperate to get away from the immediate area.

“What’s he doing?” Sabina whispered.

“The plane isn’t on fire,” Alex said. “Cray’s tricked them. He’s evacuating the airport. That’s how we’re going to get in.”

“But why?”

“Enough,” Yassen said. “You don’t speak now.” He reached under his seat and produced two gas masks which he handed to Alex and Sabina. “Put these on.”

“Why do I need it?” Sabina asked.

“Just do as I say.”

“Well, it’ll ruin my make-up.” She put it on anyway.

Alex did the same. All the men in the truck, including Yassen, had gas masks. Suddenly they were completely anonymous. Alex had to admit that there was a certain genius to Cray’s scheme. It was a perfect way to break into the airport. By now all the security personnel would know that a plane carrying a deadly nerve agent was about to crash-land. The airport was in the throes of a full-scale emergency evacuation. When Cray and his miniature army arrived at the main gate, it was unlikely that anyone would ask them for ID. In their biochemical suits they looked official. They were driving official-looking vehicles. The fact that they had arrived at the airport in record time wouldn’t be seen as suspicious. It was more like a miracle.