Enemy Invasion (15 page)

“Don’t move.”

Marlon Good walked towards May, waving a hand at the merc as he went. “It’s okay, Kotler. I think the boy knows better than to try anything when he’s got four rifles aimed at
his head. Be a pal and kill the main lights, will you?”

A muscle twitched in Kotler’s right cheek, but he turned and marched out of the square without a word. The other two soldiers retreated to the edge of the area. Marlon Good stood over May
and touched a hand to her chin. The girl’s head flopped over to the other side.

“You can come over,” Good said, looking round at Hack.

Hack moved to the side of the chair and kneeled down beside May. He took her right hand in his and tried to make some kind of contact.
May, can you hear me? Are you okay?
All he got in
response was a series of fuzzy, jumbled thoughts.

“You’ve become friends already, I see,” Marlon Good said. He wheeled a small cabinet over to the chair. “How sweet.”

There was a
shunk
as Kotler cut the lights set into the hangar ceiling. The area beyond the square was thrown into absolute darkness relative to the brightness of the mounted lights.
Marlon Good smiled to see Hack look at the pitch-black surrounding them like a shroud.

“Dramatic, ain’t it?” he said.

Hack didn’t let go of May’s hand. “Why are you doing this to her?” he demanded.

Good opened the cabinet doors, revealing drawers packed with medical equipment. He extracted a slim aluminium case and laid it on the top of the cabinet.

“May’s ability is even more remarkable than yours,” Good explained as he opened the lid. “The power to alter matter at the subatomic level with her mind. When we first
brought her here, we did try to be reasonable, but she just wouldn’t be contained. Kept turning our prison walls into water and the like. In the end, drugs were the only solution.”

“It’s inhuman.”

Good nodded. “I completely agree. Which is why I’ve had my technicians in Silicon Valley working on a more…efficient solution. One that won’t cause long-term damage to
her talent. Something for you and May to wear that should help us to keep tabs on you both without having to dull your abilities. Check it out.”

He removed a circular item from the case and held it up for Hack to see. It was a collar made of some kind of titanium alloy. A box with flashing status lights along the side protruded from the
back. Hack sensed electronics, GPS equipment and anti-tamper technology built into the item – along with something else…

An explosive charge linked to a detonator.

Marlon Good smiled as Hack’s eyes widened. “Ah, I see you’ve found the surprise.”

He opened the collar from the back and placed it around May’s neck. He snapped it closed and the device emitted a high-pitched beep. A light on the side flashed from red to green. Beneath
this light, a signal indicator bar like that on a mobile phone appeared – it displayed five bars. Some kind of wireless signal.

“There, now it’s armed,” Good said. He reached for the case and removed a second, identical collar. “Time to put yours on.”

Hack took a step back. “I’m not wearing that. It’s got explosives inside.”

Good sighed in an exaggerated fashion as Hack retreated. “You will wear it. In fact, you’re going to put it on yourself. Of your own free will.”

“I don’t think so.”

The collar around May’s neck began to emit a series of warning beeps, spaced about a second apart. Marlon Good grinned nastily at Hack.

“That’s the sound of the detonation alert,” he explained. “Each collar has a twin. If that twin isn’t activated within thirty seconds of the other, a countdown
begins.”

Hack glanced at May as the beeps started to sound closer together. Good snapped open the collar and held it out.

“The charge in each device is relatively small, as I’m sure you’ve sensed. But it’s enough to turn a person’s head into a soccer ball.” He waved the collar
tauntingly. “What’s it gonna be?”

“You won’t do it,” Hack replied. “You need us for something. You won’t let May die.”

“Do you really want to put that to the test?”

The beeps increased in speed. Hack held Good’s gaze, trying to work out if he was bluffing or not. The beeps started to come so close together, they were almost a continuous
tone…

Hack snatched the collar and placed it around his neck. The device locked shut with a magnetic click at the back. The collar gave the activation sound and in response the device around
May’s throat ceased beeping. Hack breathed a sigh of relief. Marlon Good regarded him with a triumphant little glint in his eyes.

He likes to play cruel games,
Hack thought.
And he likes to win.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Good said, giving Hack a slap on the shoulder. “You should feel privileged. You’re wearing a prisoner containment system that
cost about half a billion dollars to develop. State of the art. How’s that for expensive neckwear?”

Hack ran a finger around the edge of the collar. The device was lightweight, but he could tell that over time the heat of the island would make it intensely irritating to wear. He felt round the
back to the box-like protuberance. His fingertips brushed the magnetic lock.

“Few things you should know about the collar,” Good said conversationally as he closed the case and put it back in the cabinet. “Don’t even think about tampering with it
– either with your mind or your hands. Try to take it off, or trigger one of the thousand anti-removal sensors, and the countdown begins. For both you and May. Two seconds to
boom-time.”

Hack lowered his hand from the collar.

“You might think you can bypass the security,” Good went on, “but bear in mind it’s been designed to hold someone with just such a skill as your own. Don’t feel
self-conscious about wearing it, soon everyone will have one. Anyone who needs one, that is.” Good giggled, as if at some private joke.

“So how do we take them off?” Hack asked.

“You don’t,” Good replied. “Ever. Wherever you go, it goes. The collars work worldwide. I have my own dedicated satellite network in place to monitor them.” He
reached inside his shirt and pulled out a rectangular silver object on a chain. “This is the only key. It’s also a trigger.”

Good pressed something on the side of the key and both Hack’s and May’s collars started to beep. He pressed it again and they stopped.

“Get the picture? You do as you’re told or it’s goodbye, sweet neck.”

Hack regarded Marlon Good with real hatred as the man replaced the key in his shirt. The collar was a massive complication to any escape plan. Hack’s mind raced. What were the odds of
rushing Good right now? Blow up the electronics, grab the key, get the collars off. He glanced around at the two soldiers, barely visible in the darkness at the edge of the square. Take them out
somehow. Then he remembered the snipers above.

Impossible.

Then another thought occurred to Hack. Marlon Good had become even more animated than normal when describing the collars and how they worked. He wanted to show them off. Like a child with a new
toy. And Marlon Good clearly enjoyed playing with his toys. He might need May and Hack for whatever plot he and Major Bright had hatched, but eventually he would want to see the collars in action.
He’d trigger them before he took them off his prisoners – Hack was certain of it.

The realization made his blood run cold.

“One last thing,” Good said. “The collars are linked wirelessly. If they ever get more than a kilometre apart… boom! Should give you enough wriggle room to move about
the camp, but don’t think about taking any solo jaunts around the island. An extra incentive in case one of you decides to make a break for it alone.”

Hack shook his head with disgust. “I’d never leave May with you monsters.”

“Very admirable,” a new voice said.

Both Hack and Marlon Good turned as the towering figure of Major Bright walked out of the darkness. He wore a pristine black and gold uniform – the same colours as his old HIDRA special
forces, but a new design for a new army. One of his own making. An insignia on the side showed a serpent coiled around a Kalashnikov rifle. Hack recognized the hard, angular features and cropped
hair revealing a network of old skull scars from the pictures Jonesey had shown him. Now, however, the lower right side of Bright’s face was covered with scaly, black skin – like
something was spreading over his body. If anything, it made his appearance more threatening and Hack found himself taking an involuntary step back. Even the crazy Marlon Good seemed to shrink a
little in stature as the monolithic military man entered the light.

Major Bright smiled, as if pleased by their reaction. He clapped his giant hands together, creating a sound that echoed through the darkened hangar.

“Right. When do we begin?”

15

Two hundred kilometres from the island of Oshino, Sarah engaged full stealth mode. The jet, always invisible to radar, switched on anti-detection systems designed to cloak its
heat, motion and electronic signatures. Light distortion cells built into the fuselage became operational, making it all but invisible to the naked eye as well.
Autopilot disengage,
Sarah
ordered and took the stick. She needed to be in full control for the final approach.

“Let’s take a better look at where we’re headed,” Commander Craig said as he eased himself into the co-pilot’s chair. He touched a series of controls and a
blue-tinted holographic image of the island appeared between them. Craig reached up and tapped the image with his index finger – it responded with a slow spin, revealing a jungle terrain
peppered with a few mountains and rivers. Robert appeared at Craig’s shoulder.

“There’s Major Bright’s camp,” Craig said. He touched the area around the camp and it zoomed in, revealing buildings, fences and a runway to the south.

“How accurate is this?” Sarah asked.

“Modelled around existing maps and real-time satellite data fed directly to the jet,” the commander responded. “Pretty accurate, I’d say.”

“Well, there’s a runway,” she said, “but it’s too close to the camp to land without drawing some attention to ourselves. Even in the stealth jet.”

Craig nodded his agreement. “Let’s look for another point of entry.”

He pinched and the holographic model zoomed out. He gave it another flick and it spun again.

“There!” Robert exclaimed, pointing to an area on the other side of the island as it came round.

Craig stopped the image and zoomed in. There was a cleared area in the jungle near the beach and a flat strip of land that looked very much like another runway.

“Good spot, Robert!” Craig said as he examined the site. “Must be a backup landing strip. No evidence of current use. The runway’s short and it might be in serious
disrepair. Could be a dangerous landing.”

“I guess we won’t find out until we try,” Sarah said. “I’d rather put down there than on Bright’s doorstep. How far do you think it is from the
camp?”

Craig rubbed his chin. “A few kilometres through the jungle.”

“Not too far,” Robert said.

“Maybe not for someone who can teleport across the island. For the rest of us it could be a hike through some very rough terrain.”

“It’s our best option,” Sarah said, settling the matter. “I’m putting us down there. Robert, go back and make sure Louise and Wei are strapped in. We land in
fifteen.”

Her brother nodded and disappeared into the cabin. Craig locked the location of the second runway into the jet’s instrument landing system and a marker beacon appeared on the HUD. He
closed the holomap, dimmed the cockpit lights and strapped himself into his seat.

“Great flying, Sarah,” he said. “You handle this jet like you’ve been at the stick for twenty years.”

She glanced over at him. “I had a good teacher.”

In the instrument-illuminated darkness, Craig’s face was serious. “When we reach that island we’re in the combat zone. If I say we abort the mission, we abort – no
questions asked. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They sat in silence after that. Sarah took the jet down to the deck – flying less than fifty metres above the ocean. Through the window the water raced by, blacker than the night sky. A
shadow appeared on the horizon – an irregular lump that could only be Oshino. The appearance of the ILS beacon, flashing on the HUD, confirmed this. Sarah sent the jet round the island in a
wide arc, steering clear of the side on which Bright’s camp was situated. As the beacon came round, she angled the nose in for a direct approach, perfectly lined up with the angle of the
disused runway in the jungle.

Jets, fifty per cent power down,
she ordered and the plane slowed, beginning to descend…

The island approached at speed. In the darkness it became possible to make out beach and jungle…

Undercarriage.

Landing wheels extended. Suddenly they were passing over the tops of trees, dense and impenetrable…

The beacon symbol flashed on the HUD, rhythmically tracing the outline of the unlit runway, which was otherwise invisible. Sarah pushed forward on the stick and…

The jet touched down, bumping and jolting violently against the broken surface of the landing strip…

Airbrakes engage. Full reverse thrust.

There was an amazing pull as the jet came to a sudden and definite halt less than fifty metres from where the wheels had first touched – a feat impossible in any normal plane.

Engines power down,
Sarah ordered
. All flight systems, standby mode.

Craig touched another control and a scan showing a kilometre radius around the jet opened up. It showed no life-signs big enough to be a person in the area. Satisfied, the commander unstrapped
himself from his seat, picked up the machine gun and moved to the cockpit door.

“It’s clear. Let’s not hang around.”

Sarah followed him through to the dimmed interior of the main cabin where Robert, Louise and Wei were preparing to exit the plane.

“Okay,” Craig said, looking round them all with a
don’t mess with me
expression, “when we set foot outside this jet you follow my lead. Walk where I walk. Stop
when I stop.”