State of Emergency (26 page)

Mark drove the second Mole out of the holding bay of the
Big Mac and tore along the tarmac towards the north-west
of the CCC. Sixty seconds later, he passed the Pram and
pulled up at the entrance to the drain. Setting the drill to
minimum power, he nudged the Mole forward. It chewed
through the rim of the doorframe as though it were tissue
paper, then rumbled along the short passageway that led to
the vertical shaft which dropped 80 feet down to the floor
of the drain.

The shaft was less than four feet wide, while the drill of
the Mole was seven feet wide at its base. Without hesitating
for a second, Mark ramped up the drill speed, pivoted it
downwards and started to burrow into the shaft. For twenty
seconds he cut through the soil around the shaft, effortlessly
chewing through its concrete lining. Just short of the floor
of the shaft he slowed the drill, pulled the nose up, and
steered the machine into the drain itself, churning up soil,
concrete and chunks of rock as he went.

Setting the headlights of the Mole to max, Mark studied
the tunnel ahead of him. There were huge cracks along
the walls, and in several places jagged chunks of rock had
pushed through. Running the camera images through a
set of analysers, the onboard computer system built up
a picture of the structural integrity of the drain. It didn't
look good.

On his screen Mark could see thick and ragged red lines
running the length of the tunnel, like blood vessels through
flesh. These indicated the worst fault lines. They were bad
enough, but there was also a latticework of fragmented orange
lines clustered around them, representing only slightly less
serious fissures. Together they showed that the mere presence
of the Mole could cause more harm than good. Mark knew
he would be safe whatever sort of disruption was caused to
the integrity of the drain, but that wouldn't help him rescue
the survivors trapped on B6. Problem was, there were no
other viable options.

Following the path taken by Mai and Josh a short time
before, Mark rolled forward, the tunnel lit up by the enormous
beams of the Mole. Two minutes later the lights illuminated
the wall of rock and soil that had sealed up the drain. The
blockage stretched from floor to ceiling, sloping outward at
its base.

'Steph – I've reached the cave-in,' Mark said into his
comms.

'How does it look?'

'Not good. I'm going to run a full spectroscopic analysis.
Out.'

He ran his fingers over the flat plastic control panel.
Sensors on the exterior of the Mole probed the material
of the blockage. The computer used infrared analysers, a
petrographic polarising light microscope, a micro mass-spectrometer
and a nuclear magnetic resonance spectrometer
to construct a data profile of the blockage. It then sent
the information to the Big Mac to be processed.

'So what're we dealing with?' Mark asked after a few
seconds.

Stephanie sent images back to the Mole. 'The
obstruction has the following composition,' she
began. As she spoke, Mark studied a histogram on his
holoscreen. 'Composition of the blockage is 84.2 per
cent soil originating from around the tunnel lining,
14.6 per cent concrete from the lining, and 1.2 per
cent miscellaneous material, including water, organic
substances and oxygen. The soil fits broadly into the
Ardisol category. It's 38.5 per cent clay, 42.9 per cent
sand, 9.7 per cent water and 4.6 per cent air. The other
4.3 per cent is made up of miscellaneous minerals and
organic material. The obstruction depth varies between
27.4 and 32.6 feet. The average density of blockage is 5.67
pounds per cubic inch.' A coloured 3D representation
of the obstruction appeared on the screen. 'The green
areas are air pockets in the obstruction,' Stephanie
concluded.

'Print that out for me, please, Steph,' Mark said.

A few seconds later he plucked a glossy print from the
edge of the control panel. It showed the tunnel and the
obstruction. The drain appeared generally cylindrical. On
the far side of the blockage, there was about a hundred
feet of clear tunnel leading to the hole Josh had made into
B6 earlier.

'Alright, Steph, plot the fastest course through the
obstruction which offers us the best chance of maintaining
structural integrity – both for the blockage and for the drain
on either side.'

'Course plotted,' she replied, and sent it over.

'What's the percentage risk to the structural integrity
using this route?'

'Overall risk to blockage is 16.7 per cent. For the section
you're in now, the risk is 11.2 per cent. For the eastern
section, 30.9 per cent.'

'Is that the best we can do?'

'Yes. The alternative is a route that will take 59 per cent
longer and only reduce overall integrity risk by an average
of 1.3 per cent.'

The correct decision was obvious. 'Set the first course,
please, Steph,' Mark said without hesitating.

A moment later, the drill of the Mole began to scythe its
way into the west face of the blockage.

Kyle Foreman pulled on the oxygen mask Josh had handed
him. It was identical to the one over Marty's face. It weighed
less than a gram and would give him air for 24 hours if
needed. It clung to his face. Josh adjusted a tiny control near
Foreman's chin and told him to breath deeply. 'It'll take a
little getting used to,' Josh added.

'Are you guys armed?' Foreman asked, his voice distorted
by the mask.

Josh patted a lump at his hip. 'Stun pistols. Not deadly,
but effective.'

'Okay,' Foreman replied, removing the assassin's Magnum
from his pocket. 'This Dragon character is a pro. I'll rely on
this, if it's all the same to you.'

'But you said he was injured and tied up.'

'Even so,' Foreman replied.

Josh shrugged his shoulders. 'Well, let's go see.' He turned
to the door and lifted the shutter.

'Josh?'

He turned to Mai, who was applying spray-on skin to
Dave's wounded arm.

'Take care,' she said.

Josh flicked on his helmet light and handed Foreman
a powerful halogen torch from his kitbag. The beams cut
through the smoky air. They could see a dull orange glow
coming from the fires in the main part of B6.

Foreman led the way. Turning right at the end of the
corridor, they emerged into the wider passageway that led
to the open area and the ramp in the car park section. They
could see the fresh devastation caused by the exploded gas
cylinder. A corridor leading to the north-east section of the
floor was strewn with debris, and black smoke hung in the
air. Through the smoke, yellow flames could be seen lapping
the walls. The two men turned in the opposite direction,
towards the emergency exit in the south-west corner.

The car park was swamped in a grey haze that hung about
five feet above the ground. The cars were caked with dust
and detritus, and the floor crunched underfoot.

'This way,' Foreman said, squeezing between two lines of
cars. A second later he emerged onto an open area. It was
strewn with chunks of concrete and pools of glass; there
was dust everywhere. There was no sign of the Dragon.

'This is where I left him,' Foreman said. He crouched
down to move away some of the rubble and spotted the car
stereo – the leads from the back had been wrenched away.
In the dust he could just make out patches of blood.

Josh drew his stun pistol from its holster. He gazed around
the car park, but even with his enhanced vision he could see
no sign of the assassin.

'Let's check out the emergency exit,' Josh said, and he
clambered over the piles of shattered concrete and twisted
metal. It was only a few paces away, and its door had been
wrenched from the hinges. Josh approached the door from
the side, his back hard against the pitted wall, the stun
gun poised in front of his nose. Foreman followed him
closely.

Sliding into the stairwell, Josh swung the gun around.
A concrete staircase led to B5. It seemed clear, but it was
impossible to tell for sure from here. Josh strained to listen –
with his cochlear implants he could detect a man breathing
from twenty feet away – but there was nothing.

They started to climb the stairs, crouching low and sticking
close to the wall, out of sight to anyone higher up. The
air was growing hotter. Josh was fine in his cybersuit, but
Foreman was beginning to suffer. He was sweating so much
that his ripped shirt was soaked, his hair dripping wet.

The door through to Level B5 was open a crack.

'I think we should keep going,' Josh whispered. 'See how
far up we can get.'

Foreman nodded and wiped his face with the back of his
hand.

'You okay?'

'Just hot.'

Josh looked at his flexiscreen. It told him the temperature
was topping 120 degrees Fahrenheit, with 95 per cent
humidity. Kicking at a pile of rubble, he picked up a foot-long
steel pole and handed it to Foreman. 'Stay here, and
keep your back to the wall. Don't go to the rail and don't go
into B5. Is that clear?'

Foreman nodded and took a deep breath.

Josh dashed up the first flight of stairs, turned at the end,
and then, keeping close to the wall, he took the second flight
a little slower. The door to Level B4 was closed. He tried the
handle but it was stuck fast. He checked his screen and could
see that the door was pinned shut by a single beam of metal
on the other side.

He stepped back and kicked the door. Nothing. Looking
around, he saw a steel beam poking from a heap of crumbled
concrete and brick. He pulled at it and it came loose. He
stepped back and rammed the steel against the wooden
door. It groaned on its hinges, but held.

Taking a deep breath, Josh launched the narrow girder at
the door with all his strength. This time the beam ploughed
straight through the wooden panels. Two more blows and
Josh had punched a hole two feet wide in the door. He
shoved the girder through the opening and knocked away
the steel beam on the other side. It hit the floor of the car
park with a dull thud.

A fire had recently burned itself out on B4. The cars
close to the exit were little more than charred chassis. Josh
checked his wrist. The temperature was nudging 200 degrees
here. The air was a toxic blend of sulphur, carbon monoxide
and vapourised hydrocarbons. More importantly, he could
see that a ferocious fire was raging between the door and
the ramp. Half the ceiling had collapsed. It was completely
impassable, even in a cybersuit.

Josh ran back to the ravaged door, stepped over the piles
of smashed wood, and began the descent back to B5. As he
swung around the corner he looked down towards the door
into the car park. Senator Foreman was gone.

'Shit!' Josh exclaimed under his breath. He stopped and
listened, but all he could hear was creaking structure, the
crackle of combustion, and water streaming down walls.

Creeping down the final steps, he tried to steady his
breathing. He reached the landing, pinned himself to the
wall and edged slowly towards the door. Taking a deep
breath, he leapt through the opening, his stun gun sweeping
the space just inside Level B5. He was alone.

He crouched low and headed along the gap between the
first two lines of cars. At the third vehicle he heard a faint
tapping sound and spun around. The Dragon appeared from
behind a column.

He had his left arm around Kyle Foreman's throat, his
Yarygin PYa handgun held in his right, with the barrel
against the senator's head. Foreman's face was a picture of
pain and terror, wet with perspiration, his pupils huge and
dark. He had a fresh red bruise just under his left eye and a
cut across his right cheek. Blood ran down to his chin. The
oxygen mask still clung to his mouth and nose.

'Put the toy down, please, Dr Thompson.'

'How do you know my name?'

'Oh, I know many things,' the Dragon replied. 'My
employers are extremely well informed. Now, I'll ask again.
Put down the weapon.'

Josh didn't move. The Dragon thrust the gun forward and
shot the stun pistol out of Josh's hand. He yelped with pain
as two fingers were dislocated at the knuckle.

'Why didn't you just kill the senator?' Josh said between
gritted teeth.

'What's the hurry?' the Dragon smirked as he turned the
gun back to Foreman's temple. 'Well, okay, I want you to
see it, Dr Thompson,' he added. 'After all, you'll be meeting
your maker immediately after Senator Foreman here.'

Josh heard something. But he couldn't figure out what
it was or where it was coming from. The other two seemed
oblivious to the sound.

'Oh, and there is something else,' the Dragon went on.
'I rather like the look of your suit. Might be a little large on
me, what with your big muscles and all.' He sniggered. 'But
it will come in very useful in getting out of this shithole.'

Josh caught a glimmer of light reflected off smooth metal.
At the same moment, the Dragon heard a sound. He pulled
Foreman to one side, the gun still pushed hard against his
skull. He turned slightly to his left.

A Hunter came into view. It was hovering six feet above
the floor. The Dragon glared at it, uncomprehending. Josh
saw Foreman's eyes widen, his dark pupils lit up by the light
reflected by the Hunter.

The machine moved two feet closer, then stopped. It
swivelled in the air, scanning the scene, absorbing data. For
a second it seemed as though the Dragon didn't know how
to respond. He took a step back and came up hard against
the wreck of a Ford Explorer. Its hood had popped and a
haze of smoke hung over its engine.

Then the Hunter began to move again, heading straight
for the Dragon and Senator Foreman. The Dragon slid
the Yarygin away from Foreman's head and took aim at the
Hunter.

But before he could fire, the machine let out a series of
loud clicks, then a hiss. It wobbled, emitting a high-pitched
squeal that froze the Dragon's finger on the trigger. The Hunter
sped towards the two men, shuddered and plummeted,
smashing into the engine of the Ford Explorer.

The car rocked as metal slammed into metal. Oil gushed
from the engine and petrol splashed onto the concrete floor
of the car park. It ignited immediately. The battery exploded,
shooting boiling sulphuric acid into the air.

Stunned, the Dragon lost his grip on Foreman, who tore
free, dropped to the floor and rolled away. Acid sprayed
across the senator's left arm, burning through the fabric. But
the Dragon took the full force of the flying yellow liquid.
A great plume of the acid flew into his face. He screamed
and dropped the gun. Blinded, he stumbled, tripped on a
detached bumper bar and fell backwards into the burning
fuel.

The Dragon went up like a Roman candle, his hair
crackling and fizzing into black threads. He tried to clamber
to his feet, but his hands slipped in the fiery liquid. He made
it to a sitting position, an expression of abject confusion
written into his features. Then he smiled resignedly. Looking
straight into Josh's eyes, he shrugged. 'We're all dead. I've
been busy . . .
boom
!'

Flames shot into the Dragon's mouth and his left eye
melted onto his cheek.

Josh dove forward, grabbed Kyle Foreman and pulled him
towards the doorway to the stairwell. He didn't stop until he
had forced the senator to the first landing, down the stairs
and around the corner onto the stairs leading back to B6. As
they turned the bend, a huge explosion ripped through B5,
sending a fireball into the stairwell. Josh jumped through
the door to B6, dragging the senator with him.

The sound of the explosion reverberated along the shaft
of the stairwell. It was followed by a weird silence. Josh
pulled himself to his feet and leaned over Foreman, who
was sprawled on the floor. The man's face was covered in dirt
and blood. He opened his eyes, winced and tried to speak,
but his mouth was too dry. He ran his tongue over his split
and bloodied lips, tasting the iron. Grabbing at his left arm,
Foreman recoiled as the acid bit into his palm.

Josh tore the fabric away. Underneath, the flesh was red
raw. 'Can you walk, Senator?'

Foreman nodded. 'I think so.'

Josh helped him to his feet.

'We need to get that arm seen to,' Josh said. He spoke into
his comms. 'Mai, we're heading back. One casualty.'

There was only silence along the line.

'Mai? Do you receive? We're on our way back.'

Nothing.

'Mark? Steph? Base One?'

Nothing.

Then Josh realised his suit had shut down. He pulled off
his helmet and the stench of the fumes hit him. He coughed
violently, then vomited into the dust.

Something had gone terribly wrong. That Hunter had
crashed without warning, without anyone doing anything to
it. And as he led Kyle Foreman back towards the storeroom,
the Dragon's final words reverberated through his mind.