Web of Fire Bind-up (26 page)

‘You do realise,' he said to the men who lay groaning on the floor, ‘that all of this damage will have to be paid for.' He stepped forward and raised an eyebrow at the one who was lying among the splintered remains of the bedside table. ‘Tell me,' he said, ‘to whom should I send the bill?'

The sun was setting behind the mountains and the few clouds gathered around the peaks were soaking up the last of the red and orange rays like blotting paper. As Sam pulled back on the stick and lifted the horsefly smoothly over the perimeter fence, he could see the rows and rows of wasp squadrons stretching out across the airfields below him, awaiting their final orders to attack. He thought back to his first flying lesson a few short weeks ago and smiled to himself, remembering how he'd panicked that first time and flipped the wasp upside down. Already it felt like a lifetime ago. Now flying had become second nature to him.

He pulled back a little harder on the stick, opened the throttle and felt a surge of power from the insect's wings as they climbed higher into the evening sky. After all the wasp training he had done, the horsefly felt slightly heavier on the turns but, despite the extra weight they were carrying in the back, it still had ‘plenty of grunt', as Mump would have put it.

Sam found his thoughts returning to that summer morning long ago when he had found a horsefly in his bedroom, captured it under a glass and held it up to the window to look at. It was incredible to think of it now, but one of Odoursin's pilots must have been staring straight back at him, wondering whether Sam would destroy him or let him go. It was strange when you thought about it.

How many other things were hidden just below the surface, things that would never be seen or even imagined?

His thoughts were interrupted by Skipper, who was peering out of the side window and pointing downwards. ‘Hey, did you see that?' she said.

‘No,' said Sam. ‘What was it?'

‘A big orange flash,' said Skipper. ‘Down by the accommodation blocks.'

Sam shrugged. ‘Probably someone cooking one of Mump's special recipes,' he said. ‘Too much chilli powder.'

Skipper nodded. ‘Yeah, you're probably right.' But she stared back at the flames and guessed from their location that someone still wanted Sam dead. Things were getting a bit too close for comfort.

She turned her head to look into the rear compartment of the fly. The aircrew had stripped out most of the original fuel tanks, leaving only enough for a one-way trip. If they survived the initial assault, their orders were to hitch a ride back on one of the transporter moths that were due to land once the landing strip had been
secured. In place of the fuel tanks, the rear compartment was now filled with sixteen heavily armed commandos. They huddled together in the darkness, their serious eyes staring into space from half-hidden faces that were smudged and smeared with camouflage paint.

‘Are you all right back there?' asked Skipper.

‘Yeah, no problem,' said the troop commander, a young man in his early twenties. ‘The lads are looking forward to letting off some fireworks.'

There were a few smiles and nods of agreement, but Skipper could tell that behind the bravado most of them were feeling pretty nervous. They were all professional soldiers, highly trained and ready to do whatever it took to get the job done. But they were also young, with their lives ahead of them, and they knew better than most that the promise of tomorrow could be taken away in an instant. Tonight's rich, beautiful sunset might be the last they would ever see.

It was a sobering thought, but luckily Private Binton chose that moment to break wind with a volume and violence that are seldom heard outside of an elephant's enclosure.

‘Sounds like the fireworks have already started,' said Skipper, and everyone laughed except for those nearest the epicentre, who, protesting loudly, held their noses and cuffed Binton around the head.

‘Now then, lads,' he said defensively. ‘I was only trying to get us there faster.'

Sam and Skipper took turns at the controls as they flew on through the night. The idea had been that they would each get some rest on the long flight, but in reality they were both too excited and nervous to sleep. Sam took over from Skipper again for the final approach as the clock on the instrument panel blinked on to 0240 and the cockpit radio crackled into life.

‘Control to Trojan Horse, control to Trojan Horse. Come in, Trojan Horse, over.'

Sam leant forward and flicked the intercom switch. ‘Control, this is Trojan Horse. Go ahead, over.'

‘Trojan Horse, please confirm your position and estimated time of arrival, over.'

Sam scratched his head and peered at the array of dials glowing red in front of him, but Skipper was already a step ahead.

‘Grid reference 247359,' she offered helpfully.

Sam put a thumb up to acknowledge her assistance and then spoke into the intercom again.

‘Hello, control, our position is now 247359 and our ETA is 0250 as planned. No resistance encountered as yet, over.'

‘Roger, Trojan Horse. Main assault force is airborne and ETA is 0300 hours. Reminder that neutralisation of enemy air-defence systems remains a priority, over.'

Sam gave Skipper a wry smile.

‘Yes, thank you, control, we hadn't forgotten. Firework display will take place as discussed, over.'

‘OK, Trojan Horse, understood. There'll be a bit of a party waiting for you when you get back. Good luck, over.'

‘Thank you, control. We look forward to it. Out.'

Sam flicked the intercom off and saw for the first time the lights of the enemy airbase up ahead in the distance.

‘OK, everyone,' he said, taking the horsefly lower so that it skimmed just a few metres above the marshes, ‘six minutes to landing.'

Hekken was enjoying himself immensely.

For once, the news was all good and the Council was listening to him without any annoying interruptions from Martock, who was pleasingly subdued after their last encounter. Hekken knew that he was on a winning streak and, more importantly, the Council knew it too.

‘The last of the viruses have been loaded and the attack force will leave in the next half an hour,' he told them. ‘As far as we can tell, our operation – under cover of darkness – will be virtually unopposed. Although intelligence sources have been warning us for some time that Vahlzian forces may be preparing to strike against us, we have had no new information to suggest that an attack is imminent.

‘By tomorrow morning it is conservatively estimated that as many as five hundred humans will have been infected with the virus. Better still, it is the height of the mosquito season. At this very moment, tens of thousands of wild mosquitoes are hatching from puddles and ponds within a ten-mile radius of our target zone. In a matter of
weeks – long before the first symptoms even appear – these wild mosquitoes will have infected thousands of humans. Their presence at all major airports will ensure a rapid global spread which will be impossible to prevent. The extinction of human life will have begun.'

It was all going rather well, thought Hekken. He was gratified to note that there were nods from several members of the Council and audible murmurs of approval from among their ranks.

It was time to give them the cherry on the cake.

‘One more thing,' he said, looking pointedly at Martock, who was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. ‘From now on you can forget all this talk about the Dreamwalker's Child.'

He drew himself up to his full height and looked straight at Odoursin, savouring this moment – the supreme moment – when he would finally receive the recognition he deserved.

‘I have just received coded confirmation from our special forces that the target has been destroyed,' he said triumphantly. ‘The Dreamwalker's Child is no more. Nothing can stop us now.'

He watched Odoursin's eyes light up and saw the bitter smile begin to form on those withered lips. It didn't get much sweeter than this. He was just allowing himself to imagine what he would do with the new-found power that would surely now be given to him when he saw something which chilled his blood and caused him to let out a small, involuntary cry.

Through the green glass of the tower he watched in
horror as a dark shape flew silently past the window and then disappeared from view.

Hekken immediately registered three things: one, that it was a horsefly; two, that all non-mosquito flights had been cancelled; and three, it was headed straight for the airbase.

‘If Your Excellency will excuse me now,' he said hurriedly, ‘I had better return to my post for the final phase of operations.'

Odoursin raised a hand to signal his assent and Hekken walked as calmly as he could across the marble floor towards the lift. The moment he reached the ground floor, however, he ran from the lift doors like a man possessed.

There was a light bump as the horsefly touched down, then a blue flash from a CRB reflected in the cockpit canopy and Sam heard the troop commander shout, ‘Go, go, go!' as the first team descended on ropes from the belly of the fly and hit the tarmac running. There was shouting, the crackle of automatic weapons and then night turned to day as a flare ignited in the dark sky, floating down on a tiny parachute and illuminating the whole scene in a bright and eerie light.

Sam caught a glimpse of the four-man commando team as they ran towards one of the missile batteries, stopping occasionally to fire sporadic bursts from their machine guns before zigzagging their way across the tarmac towards the target.

‘They've seen us!' shouted the commander behind him as the light from the flare cast strange shadows across the
cockpit. ‘We've got to hit the other targets immediately!'

Sam pulled back on the throttle and once again the horsefly lifted up into the air. He knew there were three more missile batteries spread out around the airfield and, now that they had lost the element of surprise, speed was of the essence.

He was nearing the second when, from the corner of his eye, he saw one of Odoursin's soldiers sink down onto one knee, hoist a long metal tube onto his shoulder and aim it straight at them.

Recognising it from his training as a hand-held anti-insect missile which would home in on their wing vibrations, he banked violently left and, as Skipper shouted ‘Missile!', hit the decoy button, which sent twenty miniature horseflies the size of footballs shrieking off in all directions behind them.

For a moment, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Sam watched the missile scorch out of the tube and streak across the airfield towards them, but just as he thought it must surely hit them it suddenly changed direction and began to pursue one of the decoys across the airfield instead. There was a loud explosion as it found its target and then erupted into an orange fireball which lit up the night sky before crashing down into the main control tower and setting it alight.

‘Go, go, go!' shouted the troop commander as they touched down again, and the second team disappeared through the hatch.

‘Two more left,' said Skipper. ‘We can do this,' she added urgently, as much to herself as to Sam. ‘Come on! We can do this!'

They had dropped the third team of commandos off and were heading low across the field towards the last missile battery when there was another ear-splitting explosion and Sam watched in horror as the right wing of the horsefly disintegrated in a sheet of fire.

‘We've been hit!' he shouted, and immediately felt the searing heat of the flames as they began to burn and crackle around his seat.

The horsefly listed sharply to the left and Sam saw to his dismay that they were flying fast and out of control straight for the doors of the larvae factory.

‘Brace, brace, brace!' shouted Skipper.

Sam just had time to throw his arms up in front of his face before the world erupted into a deafening fury of flame and fire and they smashed through the factory doors, splintering them into a thousand pieces.