Operation Sting (6 page)

“Those rats were the life forms I detected,” said Sirena. “There was no electrical interference.”

Chopper’s eye cameras zoomed in on the floor below. They flipped through night-vision, infra-red and ultra-violet modes. “There are marks in the dust everywhere. Rectangular shapes and lines.”

Queen Bee stood at SWARM headquarters, eyes fixed on the data as it streamed across the screens.

“Logically, I’d say someone was storing a lot of boxes here,” said Sabre.

“The marks get disturbed when the rodents run across them,” said Chopper, watching a large rat cross the floor. “Since most of the marks are not disturbed, the boxes must have been here very recently.”

Sirena took readings of the rats’ movements and made some calculations. “Based on the number of rodents present, the boxes were moved within the past two days.”

“Have the suspects moved their hideout?” asked Morph.

“No, the people who stole Whiplash were only storing things here temporarily,” said Chopper. “The theft happened nine hours, forty-three minutes ago. The thieves probably believe the police and secret service still don’t know who they are, or where they are, so they are unlikely to have decamped.”

The robots scanned for forensic evidence: DNA, clothing fibres and other traces that might lead them to the gang. All that was found were some fingerprints on the door, belonging to Bullman.

“He’s already a target,” said Chopper. “We’re no further forward in our investigation.”

“And time is running out,” muttered Queen Bee, back at SWARM headquarters.

Williams’s hand was gripped tightly around the collar of Fraser’s combat jacket.

“Well?” barked Williams.

“I’m sorry, boss, I just can’t do it,” whined Fraser.

“Do you want me to lose my patience with you? Huh? Do you?”

“The coding that protects Whiplash needs a mathematical genius to crack it. I’m the best hacker there is, you know that, boss, but this is Einstein-level. It isn’t possible for me, but … but … it might be possible for someone else.”

Behind his thick spectacles, Williams’s eyes narrowed. “Meaning…?”

“I’ve got an idea, boss,” said Fraser, squirming. “I think I know who can crack that code. It’ll only mean a short delay to the project. A few hours, tops. I need to go out for a while. Me, and Bullman, and a couple of heavies. Is that OK? Boss? OK?”

Slowly, Williams relaxed his grip on Fraser and stood back. Fraser hurriedly straightened his collar. The other members of Operation New Age watched them expectantly.

Williams sniffed. “OK,” he said quietly. “I want you back here before sunrise. And keep a sharp eye out when you’re coming and going. Our presence here is supposed to be secret, remember. Minimum movement outside.”

“Yes, boss. I understand, boss,” gulped Fraser.

Bullman had been sitting on the battered leather sofa in the corner, watching Fraser’s discomfort with a mixture of sympathy and amusement on his face. Now he got up and whistled over to two of the gang members in combat gear.

The four men prepared to leave, Fraser keeping a watchful eye on Williams all the time. The room had a hefty metal door with large rivets around its edges. In the middle of the door was a big red wheel.

Bullman turned the wheel anti-clockwise, and swung the door back on its fat hinges. Beyond the door was a gloomy concrete corridor. Dim lights were set into the walls at wide intervals, behind damage-resistant iron frames.

The door closed behind the four men with a loud clang. The wheel spun until the door was firmly locked again.

CHAPTER FIVE

“So, we have no idea where their base of operations is?” said Alfred.

The programmer was walking along the main corridor of SWARM HQ. To either side were offices, workshops and emergency living quarters.

Beside him strode Queen Bee, and between them flew Chopper the dragonfly and Hercules the stag beetle, their precise mechanical wings keeping them exactly at Alfred’s eye level.

“I’m afraid not,” said Queen Bee.

Alfred shrugged. “Don’t worry, there must be some way for us to find them. Chopper, were
there any other clues left at the lock-up?”

“Negative, Alfred,” said Chopper.

“Simon has downloaded all the data we collected,” said Hercules, “but it contains no new information. He has also checked the data gathered by Agent J, Sirena and Morph, over at Techna-Stik, but we have no clues as to the identity of the informer.”

“Whoever at Techna-Stik is working with this gang,” muttered Queen Bee, “they’ve covered their tracks very well.”

“Hmm,” said Alfred, frowning. “Let’s think now. The thieves have obviously gone to a lot of trouble to steal Whiplash. If they’re smart enough to plan the robbery, they’re smart enough to realize that right now they’re top priority for MI5, and so on. Right?”

“Right,” said Queen Bee.

“So,” said Alfred, “if they’re prepared to turn themselves into such a significant target, then they must have pretty big plans for Whiplash.”

“Clearly, yes,” said Queen Bee. “Where exactly does it lead us, though?”

“As I see it, there can only be three possible
reasons why they stole Whiplash. The first is that they’re simply holding it to ransom. Give us a huge pile of cash or we bash it to bits, that sort of thing. But if that was their motive, then we’d surely have heard about it by now. They’d have contacted the police, or someone, and issued their demands. After all, they would need to get rid of the device as soon as possible. The longer they have Whiplash in their possession, the greater the chance that we’ll catch them red-handed. But they’ve had Whiplash for a whole day and we haven’t heard from them.”

“What’s the second reason?” said Queen Bee. “That they’re going to sell it, I presume?”

“Exactly,” said Alfred.

“Who would they sell it to?” said Hercules. “A foreign government, perhaps?”

“Or a terrorist group?” added Chopper.

“Yes, if that was indeed why they stole it,” said Alfred. “But I doubt that’s really their motive. The one clue we have is that this Bullman character is involved. And possibly so are friends of his such as … what was his name? Fraser! Bullman and Fraser are known fanatics. They try to destroy
businesses, embarrass officials, ruin projects they don’t agree with. They’re a bunch of thugs, but they think they’re fighting for a cause. Their attitude is: if we don’t like it, we’ll wreck it. I seriously doubt people like that would have stolen Whiplash just to pass it on. Would they really get hold of a massively powerful weapon in order to flog it?”

“That makes sense,” nodded Queen Bee. “Which leads us to the third reason – they’re going to activate it themselves.”

“Spot on,” said Alfred. “They stole it to use it. But Whiplash still hasn’t been fired. We’d certainly know if it had! That might suggest they’re not actually capable of firing it. At least, not yet.”

“Couldn’t they be transporting it somewhere?” said Chopper. “They might intend to fire it on the other side of the world.”

“Transporting it would be another big risk,” said Alfred. “Lots of chances to get caught. What they’re planning can’t be like any terrorist outrage ever before. It’s Whiplash they’ve stolen, a very specific weapon that does a very specific thing. They want it because this time, bombs and guns
aren’t good enough. I think we can be reasonably sure that, just at the moment, they don’t know how to fire it. All that security built into the weapon is keeping them out. They can’t break the AKA code.”

“But if Fraser is involved,” said Queen Bee, “why are they having difficulty? He’s one of the world’s top computer hackers.”

“Agent J sent me the details of Techna-Stik’s AKA system after his visit there,” said Alfred. “There’s no way even I could crack it, and I’m the cleverest person I know. Well, given a few weeks I might crack it. But the thieves haven’t got a few weeks. They know we’ll track them down eventually. They can’t afford to delay for even twenty-four hours, let alone any longer.”

“So they’ll need help from outside,” concluded Queen Bee. “Brilliant! Chopper, Hercules, access the main databanks. Find information on anyone who might be able to crack that code without breaking a sweat. Mathematicians, cryptographers, anyone. Cross reference by geographical location.”

“We’re live, Queen Bee,” said the two robots.
They beamed a login signal to the mainframe computer on the floor below.

“Search successful,” said Chopper. “Four possible candidates found. Two are out of the country, one lives in northern Scotland. The most likely person for the gang to contact is Dr Madeleine Smith, lecturer in Applied Mathematics at the University of South Warwickshire.”

“Good work,” said Queen Bee. “Alfred, tell Professor Miller to prepare the SWARM. We’ll send a team to guard Dr Smith immediately.”

In the thieves’ hideout, over a dozen members of the gang were seated in two rows, facing a fold-out projection screen that had been rigged up at one end of the room. Their leader Williams was connecting a laptop to a projector. The mysterious Insider, the gang’s contact inside Techna-Stik, had returned from the Techna-Stik offices and sat to one side of the screen, in the shadows behind Williams.

The gang members talked quietly amongst
themselves until at last Williams raised a hand for silence. He pressed a small remote control and a series of graphics and photos filled the screen as he spoke.

“The time has come,” he announced. “This is your final briefing before Operation New Age is put into effect.” He flashed his lizard-like smile at his audience, his dark eyes shining behind the thick lenses of his spectacles.

“Mr Bullman and his team will return soon,” he continued, “and the problem of cracking Whiplash’s code should be solved within hours. Once that minor inconvenience is overcome, we can begin!”

A ripple of approval went through the gang.

“I am a hard taskmaster, you all know that. But it’s because I care so passionately about Operation New Age and all it stands for. We are united as a group in our desire to see the world reborn.”

The group applauded.

Williams spoke more softly. “I’d like to thank each and every one of you. For your contributions to the project. For your time, your commitment
and, yes, your money. Operation New Age has been largely funded, as you are aware, through our friend here…”

He extended a hand towards the Insider. There was more applause, which the Insider acknowledged with a nod.

“But all of you have given generously, to allow us to assemble the equipment you see around us now. Equipment that will, in due course, be dismantled and destroyed, once the New Age has finally dawned. We’ll burn it, when it’s no longer needed, when it’s useless in our new world. How ironic, how amusing, that the Earth will be changed forever using this machinery. Mankind’s technology will be the cause of its own destruction!”

There were cries of support and raised fists.

Williams eyed them all, smiling. “Here, then, is the plan. Phase One begins with the firing of Whiplash, from right where we are now. In here, we are safe from Whiplash’s devastating effects. This bunker is the only one of its kind – its construction was top secret and it has been designed to withstand atomic warfare. Our
assembled equipment will amplify Whiplash’s power a thousand times. A massive EMP, a huge electro-magnetic pulse, will radiate out for almost eighty miles. All of Greater London will be hit, the whole south-east of England will feel Whiplash’s mighty hammer-blow, its shattering blast! And yet … no explosion, no heaps of rubble. The blow will be silent. Instant. No human being will even know it’s happened, until they see its effects. Every last electronic circuit, fried and useless. No more TVs spouting rubbish, no more cyber-bullying, no more cars and factories filling the air with filth.”

The gang cheered loudly.

Williams raised a hand for silence again. “You all know your individual tasks. Each of you is a trained scientist, that’s why you’ve been chosen for Operation New Age. Every last one of you has a vital part to play, either operating Whiplash’s amplifier, or monitoring its effects, or preparing Phase Two. This second phase is the most important. While the world outside is in confusion, our hideout will be the focal point for a global switch-off. This place has many rooms, it’s big enough for us to live in while our plans are
carried out.”

One of the gang members spoke up. He was a tall, thin man with prominent teeth. “Mr Williams, how can we be sure the authorities won’t find us?”

“Phase Two will take about a week,” said Williams.

The screen behind him flickered and changed to a map of the world overlaid with large circles. “The chaos of Phase One will give the authorities so much to deal with that we can count on a few weeks of safety. They’ll have no phones, no vehicles, no nothing.”

“But what if the authorities have some kind of shielding against it?” asked the thin man nervously.

“Whiplash is the first and only one of its kind,” said Williams. “Asking if they’ve got shielding is like expecting a caveman to be wearing a bullet-proof vest! There is, as yet, no defence against Whiplash.”

“Except right here where we are?”

“Correct. And the authorities couldn’t make a Whiplash of their own anyway. The Insider
has made sure that all Techna-Stik’s records of the project are computerized. Nothing exists on paper. So, when the weapon is fired: bang! Techna-Stik’s computers will be trashed, and anyone wanting to create a similar weapon would have to start from scratch. It took Techna-Stik ten years to develop Whiplash.”

Williams exchanged a knowing glance with the Insider.

“Phase Two,” declared Williams, the screen behind him showing a series of locations and statistics, “will see Whiplash targeted at every major city on earth, and then at the rest of the planet’s surface. The whole world will be switched off. The New Age will dawn!”

“Mankind will revert to a simpler time, before technology took over our lives and our environment was ravaged by industry! Horse-drawn wagons for transport, everyone growing their own food, a healthier, quieter way of life for us all. No pollution, no energy crisis, no threat of global war. Now, as you know, when Whiplash strikes there will be problems. Lorries will crash, aeroplanes will fall from the sky, hospitals will lose power. There will be deaths. But remember our ultimate goal. In war, there are always casualties. Some will die, but the whole of mankind will benefit. Now, let’s get back to work.”

There was more applause and cheering. Despite the knowledge that Operation New Age would cause death and destruction, the group had persuaded themselves that they were fighting for a cause. They believed that someone had to create a better world by force!