Operation Sting (9 page)

As they approached the room, they were just in time to see Williams march in. “Well?” he demanded.

Dr Smith, her ankles still securely tied to the chair, was now much more calm. “Done,” she declared. “Rather easy, actually.”

With a grin, Williams looked at the screen of
the laptop. After a long string of calculations and formulae, a line read:

CALCULATION VERIFIED:
34MF04N90414JF

Williams scooped up the laptop and snapped it shut. “Thank you,” he smiled. “We’ll enter this code into our system immediately. The countdown can begin.”

“Countdown?” said Dr Smith. “The countdown to what?”

“None of your business,” sneered Williams. “Your usefulness has ended.”

“Then you can let me go!” yelled Dr Smith. “Immediately! I’ve done what you asked, now untie me!”

Williams stood over her. His shadow fell across her face. “No,” he said quietly. “Sorry about that. We can’t have you blabbing to the police, can we? You’re not leaving here, ever.”

“You can’t do this!” Dr Smith cried. “I demand you let me go!”

Williams spoke in a low growl. “Think yourself lucky I don’t have you killed right now.” He
marched out of the room.

Dr Smith let out an angry yell and began to tug uselessly at the ropes around her legs.

“Humans are more efficient than I thought,” said Nero.

“At least, that one is,” said Sabre.

“We’ll have to act quickly,” said Nero. “Before Williams and the gang fire Whiplash.”

CHAPTER NINE

“Countdown set at five minutes! Mark! Four minutes fifty-nine seconds … fifty-eight seconds … fifty-seven…” The metallic voice of the computer system echoed throughout the bunker.

The gang members began to chatter with excitement. Bullman sat back on the old leather sofa in the corner of the control room, his face alight. Fraser breathed a sigh of relief and
continued tapping at the keyboard of his PC. Williams and the Insider were huddled over the screen where they’d just entered Whiplash’s code.

“Aren’t you nervous?” whispered Haynes.

“What for?” whispered Williams. “I’m staying right here by this computer. As soon as Whiplash detonates, I open the hatch at the back down there, unplug it, pocket it and we’re out of here.”

“What if Bullman or one of the others asks where we’re going?”

“What, we can’t make up a reason to pop outside? Get a grip. Nothing can go wrong.”

The countdown continued. “Four minutes thirty-four seconds … thirty-three … thirty-two…”

Meanwhile, Nero and Sabre had positioned themselves beneath Dr Smith’s chair. She had given up struggling to loosen the ropes.

“Switch external speakers on,” transmitted Nero.

“On and set at maximum,” sent Sabre. “Let’s hope she has good hearing, for a human.”

Together they crawled up on to the table and came to a stop directly in front of Dr Smith. At first, she was too distracted to notice them.

Nero’s voice came out of a tiny oval shape built into his thorax. To a human’s ears it sounded faint and distant. “Dr Madeleine Smith,” he said. “Please do not be afraid. We are here to help you.”

Dr Smith suddenly flicked her head left and right, wondering where the strange voice had come from. Then she noticed a scorpion and a mosquito standing still as statues on the table.

She let out a sharp yelp and tried to push back her chair. “S-Scorpion!” she squealed. “They’re going to kill me with a scorpion!”

“My name is Nero,” came the tiny voice. “This is my co-agent, Sabre. We are not organic, we are micro-robots, and we’re here to help you. Please do not be afraid.”

“Robots?” she said. “I must be going mad. I’m letting the situation get the better of me.”

“We assure you, this is no trick,” said Sabre.

“Where did you come from?” asked Dr Smith, staring uncertainly at them.

“We’re members of a secret organization,” said Sabre. “We are on a mission to recover a dangerous weapon called Whiplash. The
countdown you can hear will end in the weapon being fired. It emits a massive electro-magnetic pulse. The effects will be devastating.”

Dr Smith nodded. “We’ve got to get out of here! My father has a heart pacemaker. An EMP will kill him instantly!”

“The robots at SWARM HQ will also die if Whiplash fires,” said Sabre.

Nero was already scuttling down to the ropes around Dr Smith’s ankles. Extending his pincers, he began to cut her loose.

“Not quite as quick as Hercules,” he said, “but still efficient.”

“Hercules is a stag beetle,” said Sabre.

“Yes,” muttered Dr Smith, nervously watching Nero slice into the ropes. “Of course he is.”

Overhead, the computer’s countdown moved closer to disaster. “Three minutes nineteen seconds to firing … three minutes eighteen … seventeen…”

The ropes suddenly fell slack.

“Now, Dr Smith, it’s time to retrieve the weapon and get out of here,” said Nero.

Dr Smith rubbed at her ankles and stood up.
Nero hopped on to the shoulder of her jacket, and Sabre buzzed along beside her. The mosquito peeped out into the corridor.

“I can’t see anyone,” she breathed.

“We must create a diversion,” said Nero. “The control room is full of humans but we have to get in there to recover Whiplash.”

“How?” said Dr Smith.

Nero consulted the plans of the bunker and came up with an idea in less than a millionth of a second. “Please move back along the corridor. Seven metres behind you, on the wall, is a metal panel.”

Checking to make sure nobody was coming, Dr Smith tiptoed to the panel and opened it. The panel swung down. Inside was a series of dials, like the pressure gauges on an old-fashioned steam engine. Beneath them was a line of switches and buttons.

“The bunker is partially built beneath the River Thames,” explained Nero. “This panel opens a set of gates holding the water back. It was a last-resort feature of the bunker, in case of the enemy gaining entry.”

“What?” gasped Dr Smith. “You’re going to flood this place? That’s crazy! You’ve got to be joking.”

“I don’t joke,” said Nero. “We’ll allow water to enter slowly. There’s only one exit. Everyone will have to evacuate the bunker. If we don’t manage to retrieve Whiplash in time, then Sabre and I can stay behind to get it. We can operate underwater for a short time.”

“Two minutes twenty-four seconds…” the countdown reverberated along the corridor. “Twenty-three seconds … twenty-two…”

“OK, what do I do?” asked Dr Smith, taking a deep breath. “No, wait, I can guess. I need to pull this lever out, yes?”

“Correct,” said Nero, “pull and turn to the right. It needs a human’s strength. That unlocks the bolts holding the gates in place.”

“Then blow the bolts using this big red button?”

“Correct,” said Nero. “Have you been studying the bunker’s systems?”

“No,” said Dr Smith, “I’ve just seen a lot of action films.” Without another word, she grasped hold of the small hand lever in front of her and
pulled hard. It didn’t budge. After a few seconds of effort, she let go with a gasp and flexed her fingers. “I think it’s rusted,” she muttered.

“Two minutes fourteen seconds…” boomed the countdown. “Thirteen seconds…”

“I’ll give it another go,” said Dr Smith. She breathed in deeply and took hold of the lever again. Then she clenched her teeth and heaved. Still it didn’t move.

Suddenly, Sabre swung around in mid-air. “Movement detected.”

Fraser the computer hacker appeared at the other end of the corridor. For a split second, he remained frozen in surprise, staring directly at Dr Smith. Dr Smith stared back, one hand on the lever.

Fraser dropped the clipboard he was carrying and fled back to the control room. “Hey! Stop!” he yelled. “The prisoner’s escaping!”

“Uh-oh,” said Dr Smith.

“Pull the lever quickly,” said Nero. “Our chances of success have now reduced by approximately half.”

Voices were raised inside the control room.
Several gang members, including Bullman, spilled out into the corridor and raced to intercept Dr Smith.

“Attack mode,” said Sabre. “Electro-sting powered up.”

The lever in the wall began to move, very slowly. The gang members closed in. Sabre, with his eye cameras keeping track of all of them, darted left and right.

“Yee-ooww!” screamed the nearest gang member, as Sabre swooped to deliver a painful shock to the end of his nose. The man fell back, his hands to his face.

Sabre whipped to the opposite side of the corridor. A second jab sent another man reeling, this time clutching his shoulder.

Bullman stormed ahead.

Sabre knew that Bullman wouldn’t be stopped by an electric sting. He switched his injector to stun pellets. He had three of them left.

The lever moved slowly, slowly. Dr Smith used every bit of strength she had.

“One minute thirty-four seconds … thirty-three…”

Bullman charged at Dr Smith with a roar. She yelped with fright and Sabre swiftly stung him in the neck with a freezer stun pellet.

Bullman staggered. For a moment, his eyes rolled and he sagged at the shoulders. Then he grunted loudly, shook himself and reared up. Sabre delivered a second pellet, behind Bullman’s ear.

The man tottered. His eyes tried to focus… What was that? A fly? His face curled into a grimace and he raised his fists. Sabre stung him one more time.

Bullman rocked on his heels, his face suddenly blank. Then he crashed backwards on to the floor, completely senseless.

With Bullman down, Dr Smith turned back to the lever and continued to twist.

At last the lever clicked into place. Dr Smith smacked the red button in the centre of the wall panel.

“One minute to firing … fifty-nine seconds … fifty-eight…”

Water began to gush from a grille close to floor level.

Dr Smith leaped back. “Wow, that’s cold!” she gasped.

The water spread rapidly across the floor, turning the dusty concrete the colour of cold tea. A loud, warbling alarm began to sound but the countdown continued. A rancid smell rose off the water as it hissed and flowed.

In the control room, there was panic. A thin sheet of water was already seeping past the doorway.

“Seal the door!” cried Fraser. “Seal the door! Keep the water out!”

“Don’t be a fool!” barked Williams. “We’ll be trapped in here! Where’s Bullman? Get that water shut off! Now!”

Out in the corridor, Nero was sabotaging the panel in the wall. Sparks flew around him as he snipped at the panel’s controls. “There,” he said. “The grille is locked in the open position. They can’t turn the water off.” He hopped back on to Dr Smith’s shoulder. “Now we head for the control room.”

“Forty seconds to firing … thirty-nine … thirty-eight…”

Williams was in a fury, yelling at the gang members to remain at their stations. Few of them were taking any notice of him. Most were either retreating from the flood or wading along the corridor. Fraser and another man were dragging the unconscious Bullman towards the bunker’s exit. The water was almost ankle-deep now, and rising fast.

“What do we do?” cried Haynes. “Williams! What do we do?”

“The countdown is still going,” cried Williams, above the rushing of the flood and the bleating of the alarm siren. “Just over half a minute left. The water won’t get high enough to short the computers in that time. Whiplash will still fire!”

“I’m getting out now!” cried Haynes.

“Stay where you are, you snivelling coward!” yelled Williams. “There’ll be time to get the weapon and make it outside!”

“Twenty-seven seconds … twenty-six…”

The gang members were crowding along the corridor, making for the exit.

Dr Smith appeared at the entrance to the control room.

Williams swung round and glared at her. “Look what you’ve done, you witch!” he screeched.

Nero, clinging to her collar, spoke close to her ear. “There’s a hatch near your left knee, with a black flip-up catch. Whiplash is behind that.”

Williams suddenly pulled a gun from a holster hidden under his shirt, a snub-barrelled pistol. He levelled it at Dr Smith. “I should have killed you earlier!”

“Twenty seconds to firing … nineteen…”

“I’m getting out!” cried Haynes. “No amount of money is worth this!” He turned to leave, making waves in the rising water as he walked.

“Haynes!” bellowed Williams, turning to face the other man. “Stay where you are! I order you to stop!”

Haynes didn’t answer. He waded away as fast as he could.

With a fierce glint of hatred in his eyes, Williams raised the gun and fired.

Haynes dropped face-first into the water.

“Seventeen … sixteen…”

Williams swung the gun back to aim at Dr Smith. She tightened her hands into fists and stared right back at him.

In Nero’s lightning-fast brain, millions of sensor readings told him Williams was pulling the trigger of the gun almost before Williams himself was aware of it. He calculated the precise path the bullet would take, its speed and impact point.

The scorpion sprung into the air as Williams fired. He spun, at full stretch, and the bullet flashed into range. The tip of Nero’s tail, reaching out as far as it could go, brushed the bullet as it passed. The bullet’s path was deflected, only by a millimetre but just enough to send it skimming past the edge of Dr Smith’s hair. It smacked into the wall, a shower of concrete bursting behind it.

“Sabre,” said Nero. “Attack mode.”

“I’m live,” said Sabre.

Sabre first stung Williams on the back of his hand. He dropped the gun with a yell of pain and Sabre stung again, on his chin. Williams staggered. Sabre continued stinging until Williams was at the other end of the room, swatting wildly all around himself.