The Seraphim Sequence: The Fifth Column 2 (47 page)

‘We don’t have long,’ Damien said.

Grace didn’t reply. She was watching the security command blast door. The Elohim were getting ready to breach it.

‘Denton, do you read?’ she said into her mic. ‘Colonel Abraham, can you hear me?’ She turned to Damien. ‘Nothing.’

Damien nodded. ‘They’ve captured everyone.’

Grace picked up the EMP device Sophia had planted earlier. ‘We’ll have to blow the super-array ourselves’

‘Are you serious?’ Damien said. ‘We’ll be lucky to make it out of this room.’

Grace slipped the EMP device into her daypack. ‘Or we can stand here and wait for them to capture or kill us,’ she said. ‘The longer we wait, the worse our chances are.’ She strode toward the door and used her hexachromatic vision to look through it. ‘Wait. They’re moving away.’

‘Where to?’

‘Past the super-array entrance. They just ran right past it.’

She took the dead major’s ID and swiped it on the door’s control panel. The door slid open.

Damien shrugged. ‘It’s alright for you, you can just go invisible. I get shot.’

He followed Grace to the Seraphim super-array, which was a short walk down the corridor and the first turn right. As he tried to walk as calmly as possible, the chatter between Cecilia and Sophia continued in his ear. Before them, the super-array glittered for miles, hundreds upon hundreds of spires needling toward dizzying heights, almost touching the distant milky-white ceiling.

Grace didn’t hesitate to step out onto the central walkway. Damien wanted to move softly to avoid detection, but she sprinted ahead, her boots rattling the steel. The echo carried through the enormous chamber, bouncing off spires and walls, multiplied many times over. It sounded like an army was descending on them.

Grace drew up short ahead. When he caught up with her, she was busy inspecting something behind a set of pipes. Right beside her, Chickenhead lay crumpled awkwardly on his back, one leg retracted behind his hip. Gunshot wounds to the chest and head, obliterating the back of his skull.

‘Oh shit,’ Damien said.

‘Funny how Denton isn’t around,’ Grace said. ‘Hey, I found it.’

Denton and Chickenhead had lodged the EMP device behind the pipes that ran from the walkway to the base of the spires. Unless you were looking for it, you wouldn’t know it was there.

‘Guess we won’t need ours after all,’ Damien said.

‘The timer’s already ticking,’ Grace said. ‘Eleven minutes to go.’

‘Chickenhead was probably shot four minutes ago,’ Damien said. ‘Question is, was it Denton?’

‘If it was, that means he’s still on the loose. Which might not be a bad thing.’

‘We just lost a man and you think that’s a good thing?’

‘It’s all we have right now,’ she said.

She stepped closer to him. Her hand found his again. He went to pull away but she held firm.

‘Damien,’ she said. ‘My first operation—’

‘I don’t want to know.’

‘I failed it,’ she said.

He didn’t know what to say. ‘Oh.’

For a moment, everything around him was suspended in space. He ran his hand across her cheek and kissed her. Her lips were as soft as he remembered. She kissed him back, over his lower lip and again over the corner of his mouth. His hand moved over her neck and—

Cecilia’s voice crackled in his earpiece. He pulled away to listen intently.

‘We are standing on the threshold of the next cataclysm,’ she said.

‘And what if it all goes wrong?’ Sophia replied. ‘Have you thought of that?’

‘We all have switches in place, to start over,’ Cecilia said.

‘You mean like a kill switch?’ Sophia said.

‘It was a nice trick,’ Cecilia said, ‘sealing the barracks. It would’ve worked too, had you not got caught. As of this moment, my shiny new soldiers are combing the OpCenter, hunting down your little friends.’

Cecilia had ignored Sophia’s question about the kill switch. But Damien had noticed it.

‘And since we have your beloved Nasira and Jay,’ Cecilia said, ‘there aren’t many people left to save you, I’m afraid.’

Damien stopped in his tracks. Jay. They had Jay. He broke into a run. Back across the walkway, out of the super-array chamber.

‘Damien!’ Grace called out. ‘Hold up!’

He slowed to a normal pace when he reached the chamber exit and entered the lit corridor calmly, Magpul in both hands. He passed a four-man patrol of Blue Berets. They barely even noticed him.

When he reached security command he realized he didn’t have an ID to swipe that would let him in. Grace was behind him.

‘Open the door,’ he said.

‘Why?’ she hissed.

‘Do you want to argue out here where Cecilia’s battalion can find us, or in there?’

Grace swiped the card so hard it clipped his arm. The door retracted and Damien moved inside. Grace was beside him every step of the way, pausing only to seal the door behind them.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

Damien focused on the computers. He knew what needed to be done.

‘Cecilia said she has switches in place to start again. Don’t you get it? She’s talking about the kill switch. We can transmit the kill switch using the Seraphim super-array and terminate her entire army. If we focus the burst wide enough, we’ll get every shocktrooper in the entire country. We can save Sophia, and we can save Jay and Nasira.’

‘I am pleasantly surprised to hear your voices,’ Cecilia said, her voice piercing Damien’s earpiece.

Damien fell silent. Cecilia had picked up the radio; she could hear their chatter.

Grace mouthed:
Switch it off
.

Damien waved a hand: not yet.

‘Grace, honey, would you mind telling me your location? My soldiers won’t hurt you. I’d just like to have a little chat.’

Grace shook her head at Damien.

‘Or I can always kill one of your friends,’ Cecilia said. ‘Sophia perhaps? Or one of your pals topside? Nasira?’

Damien wasn’t about to gamble with Jay’s life.

‘We’re in security command,’ he said.

Grace yelled a silent
No
but he ignored her. He wasn’t going to lose Jay over this. He returned his attention to the computer. Their only way out was the kill switch.

‘Oh, Damien,’ Cecilia said, ‘I suppose you’re aware that the kill switch will terminate my army and all my precious shocktroopers. That’s no doubt why you’re in security command overriding the Seraphim controls. But I wonder if you realize it will also kill Grace.’

Damien’s fingers froze at the keyboard. ‘You’re lying.’

‘That’s why she’s here,’ Cecilia said. ‘Her goal is the same as yours: to destroy the Seraphim super-array. But her reasons are very different. She wants to make sure the kill switch can never be used.’

Damien suddenly felt unbearably cold. To save Jay and Nasira, he would need to kill Grace.

Grace moved away from him. She pointed her pistol at his head.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I can’t let you do it.’

***

Denton ducked under an S-bend pipe, its joint flexible to accommodate earthquakes and seismic shockwaves. He reached the southern wall that faced the excavated water reservoirs. Each reservoir held over one million gallons of water. He only needed the one.

The last item in Chickenhead’s daypack was a high-explosive charge Aviary had made for them. He removed it and placed it on the wall. Like the EMP devices, there was a timer attached. It was more reliable than using radio frequency, especially if Cecilia had the foresight—and she would—to jam such frequencies. He set the timer as the second hand on his watch struck twelve.

Still dressed as a Blue Beret, Denton made his way through the north corridor, past the hospital and the systems center. Two lines of soldiers hustled past in urban camouflage and gray helmets and carrying the Blue Berets’ standard-issue Magpul PDRs. He strode confidently past them, giving a slight nod. Their gazes passed over his face but they didn’t attempt to stop him. Apparently, he wasn’t the droid they were looking for.

He cut right, moving past the empty shopping mall and cuboid civilian accommodation. He found the north blast door. It was closed, five Blue Berets posted there. More than he’d expected, but that was fine.

‘Where’s the maintenance crew?’ he shouted. ‘The south door isn’t closing!’

One of the Blue Berets piped up. ‘That’d be us.’

Denton hadn’t expected that but he could work with it. ‘We need you there now,’ he said.

The Blue Beret who’d spoken turned to three of the others. ‘With me, let’s go.’

When they’d disappeared around the corner, he turned his attention to the remaining three. One of them looked on edge.

‘Do you know what’s going on?’ he asked.

‘We’re on high alert,’ Denton said as he approached.

‘Yeah, no shit,’ the Blue Beret said.

Denton headbutted him, and shot the other two with his Glock before they could draw their rifles.

‘Yeah, no shit,’ he said and moved for the blast door controls.

The whine of the mechanics as the door gradually parted drowned out the chaos in the corridors. Denton opened a red metal cabinet next to the door controls, lifted the phone receiver there and put it to his ear. While Cecilia was wasting her time with Sophia, he had other plans.

He checked his Glock magazine. It was empty. All he had was a round in the chamber. He reached down and snatched a pistol from one of the dead Blue Berets. He aimed it at the headbutted guard who was still writhing on the floor. The trigger wouldn’t squeeze.

‘Fuck,’ Denton said. They had RFIDs on their pistols now.

He drew his knife and penetrated behind the guard’s collarbone, nicking the aorta, then stepped back, forearm shielding his face from the gush of blood.

He wiped his knife on his leg and checked his watch.

‘Precisely ten seconds until you, my friend, bleed out and my explosives go boom boom,’ he said.

Cecilia felt for a vein in Sophia’s restrained arm. Sophia focused on the light-colored liquid in the hypodermic needle’s vial: the anti-Chimera vector. She was seconds away from having her conscience obliterated. It was easier than months of programming, that was for sure.

‘It’s unfortunate that everyone around you has a habit of dying,’ Cecilia said. ‘I suppose it’s an occupational hazard.’

Sophia smiled. ‘I can only hope you’re part of that statistic.’

Cecilia slipped the needle into Sophia’s vein, then paused as Denton’s voice crackled over the PA speakers.

‘Surf’s up, bitches!’ he said.

The side wall of the command and control room exploded, spewing hunks of concrete, and water surged through, knocking Cecilia off her feet.

Sophia braced herself, the needle still inserted in her arm. She went under, her chair carrying her into the staircase railing. She forced her head above water, gasping for air.

Cecilia lunged forward, withdrew the needle and ran up the stairs. An Elohim pulled her up higher, dropping his PEP rifle into the water. It was useless now, so he left it.

Near her feet, Sophia noticed one of her knives bounce along the floor. Her hands were fastened behind the chair so she tried to move her boots forward. They weren’t going anywhere. The knife skittered past her. She tipped herself forward, splashing headfirst into the water. All sounds—the klaxons, the door opening and soldiers running past, Cecilia barking orders—disappeared, replaced by the soft push of water against her eardrums. She landed on the knife, her cheek pinning the blade. She moved her face across it. Blood clouded her vision. She nudged it downward with her chin, grasped it in her mouth and tried to sit up again. But she couldn’t do it. The weight of the chair, of her own body, of the surging water, pressed down on her.

She tried to roll onto her side, but all she could manage was a lungful of water. Bubbles streamed from her mouth, breaking on the rough surface. The current pushed her back against the staircase railing. She grabbed the railing and worked her hands toward the floor. There wasn’t much slack but she was able to move her fingers almost to the floor. Releasing the knife from her mouth, she allowed it to roll past her face, under the chair and hit the bottom of the staircase. She worked her fingers across, touching its hilt.

She couldn’t hold her breath much longer, but she forced herself to focus. It was this or nothing. She scraped the knife closer, touched it with two fingers. Three. Her middle finger, and then her forefinger. She closed her hand over the knife and turned it around, pushing the blade against her plasticuffs and grinding the edge. It took six strokes before they came free.

Knife in hand, she forced her head above water. Her lungs and eyes burned. She coughed. Ahead of her, water was still pouring through the wall.

Her feet were still tied to the chair legs. She dived under again, cut them free and stepped away from the chair. Just ahead, her P99 was sitting on the table. In her rush to escape, Cecilia had left it behind.

Sophia forced herself against the current. She dived under, knife in hand, and emerged at the desk. Next to her P99 were her earpiece and microphone. She grabbed them and swam for the stairs, keeping her fist closed over the earpiece and mic to prevent them getting wet. She found her footing on the higher level and walked up the stairs. The water had filled the chamber to half capacity, but it hadn’t reached the balcony yet. She crossed over to the entrance, earpiece and microphone reattached, only to realize she didn’t have a way out. She needed security clearance to open the blast door. That explained why Cecilia had just left her there.

She looked around for an alternative escape route. The Elohim’s abandoned PEP rifle lapped at her feet. The water had reached her boots already. Once the water levels equalized she could move through into the—

The blast door opened suddenly and DC stepped into the chamber, tachi sword in hand.

***

‘So that’s why you’re here,’ Damien said to Grace.

He watched a tear roll down her cheek. ‘You would do the same,’ she said.

‘We’ll find something to save you. Cecilia will have something.’

He didn’t care whether she believed it or not; he did. Grace said nothing. He hated it when she said nothing.

Sophia’s voice screamed in his ear. ‘The super-array will be fried any minute now, hit the kill switch!’

‘Do you trust me?’ Damien said.

Grace lowered her pistol. ‘I trust you.’

Damien turned to the computer. He didn’t want to look away from Grace, but he needed to do this. The command was ready, he just had to commit. He hit ENTER.

Grace’s face went blank. The pistol slipped from her hands and she collapsed beside the EMP device.

Damien ran to her and kneeled beside her, holding her head up. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

He checked her airway. She was breathing, but the kill switch had activated something inside her and now he was watching her die.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

He checked her pulse. Faint, but it was something. Her eyes opened and she touched his face and smiled.

‘You can’t kill me,’ she said. ‘Because I love you.’

Damien blinked, forcing tears back. ‘I’m getting you out of here,’ he said.

The blast door slid open. He looked up to find two Elohim with PEP rifles pointed at him. The Elohim were former operatives, but they weren’t former Shocktroopers—the kill switch had no effect on them. Everything inside Damien burned. He reached into Grace’s daypack and hit the manual switch on the EMP. Their PEP rifles suddenly became expensive toys.

All sound disappeared and Damien’s world went cold. He didn’t care. He charged at the Elohim.

***

‘So did Cecilia turn you from the beginning?’ Sophia asked DC. ‘Or were you her lapdog all along?’

He cut the air between them with his sword. She saw the blade moving toward her neck and just managed to evade it.

‘We became acquainted in Belize,’ he said. ‘Not long before you showed up.’

He attacked again, this time stabbing with the tip at her stomach. She dodged to one side. The sword scraped along the balcony railing.

‘She programmed you,’ Sophia said, ducking and grabbing the abandoned PEP rifle.

DC slashed downward for her shoulder. She brought the PEP rifle up and used it to deflect the tachi blade.

‘There’s a fine line between programming and training,’ DC said and slashed his sword across her torso.

She deflected again. ‘I didn’t know there was a patsy training course.’

DC inspected his blade. ‘It’s called Project GATE.’

Sophia drew her P99 and aimed. Cecilia had used three rounds on Abraham and his men, leaving Sophia with just one round.

DC faltered, then cocked his head slightly. ‘You won’t shoot me,’ he said.

‘The hell I won’t.’

He lunged toward her, sword slicing past her arms. She pulled her pistol in to avoid the blow. He was right: she couldn’t take the shot. The sword caught the P99 and batted it across the walkway floor. She almost fell as she backed down the stairs, ankle deep in water. She was unarmed and cornered, not the best place given the circumstances.

‘You should have taken the shot,’ DC said.

‘So none of it was real then?’ Sophia said. ‘Project Genesis, your loyalty to Freeman?’ She strained over the words. ‘Caring about whether I lived or died.’

He leveled the blade with her face. ‘I cared. But you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice.’

The blade glimmered in the air, but DC stumbled, his strike cutting low. Sophia jumped off the railing, over the blade, over DC. He collapsed face first into the water, curls of blood lifting from his lower back like a scarlet rose. Sophia turned to see Denton standing in the doorway, his Glock G39 pistol in one hand.

‘It’s been said I have impeccable timing,’ Denton said.

DC gasped for air in the water. She checked for concealed weapons but he’d only been carrying his sword.

‘No pistol, nothing,’ she said.

‘That’s unfortunate,’ Denton said, inspecting his Glock magazine. ‘Because I’m on my last peacemaker.’

Sophia walked over and picked up her P99. ‘Make that two,’ she said.

With the blast door still open, Denton strode out into the corridor. ‘We need to find Cecilia.’

Sophia hesitated, turned back to DC. He’d managed to drag himself to the other side of the balcony, and was on his back, his head resting against the wall. His saya had come free of his shoulder and was lying before him. One hand was clamped firmly over the gunshot wound in his stomach.

Sophia picked up his sword, then lined her pistol’s front and rear sights with his head.

‘I can’t,’ DC said.

She held the pistol in position. ‘You can’t what?’

‘I can’t go on like this. I can’t do it any more.’

She lowered the pistol. ‘I know.’

She should have killed him right then, but a selfish, perhaps gullible part of her wanted to give him the chance to survive.

‘Don’t go with him,’ he whispered.

‘Better the devil you know,’ she said, taking the saya and walking out.