Chimera Code (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) (27 page)

“Ezra is not here,” came the soft female voice. “And now they
are all dead.” The Assassin pulled off its black hood, and in the
process revealed feminine blond hair, soft blemish free skin and, the
most piercingly blue eyes. She went to one of the security camera
monitors, typed in the start run time, and watched the footage for a
few moments. “He ran towards the cliff top. Ezra jumped - is dead,
his body lost to the ocean, and the disc with him.”

“What shall we do now?” The second Assassin looked searchingly
at the first.
The soft voice was calm, she shook her head and turned away,
stepping towards the escape tunnel hewn through the stone and the
welcoming calming coolness beyond.
The Assassin abhorred the heat. She hated this place.
Her words echoed back, hollow and empty.
“We bury our dead and then we leave this place.”

Venetian boat house.
The A-25M amphibian aircraft swayed gently on its mooring
ropes with the swell of the lagoon, clicking, its metal cooling slowly.
The fire was a small one, the dry wood burning without smoke.
Vince brewed tea in a little tin pot and Tatiana sat, chin on her knees,
arms around herself, staring into the flickering flames, lost; lost in a
world of her own creation. Dillon was sprawled out asleep on a pile of
old tarpaulins in the corner of the boat house, this was the first time
he’d actually been out for the count, allowing his brain to re-charge.
He was grey with exhaustion, but had kept them going, and safe, until
they were securely inside the enormous boat-house belonging to an
old friend of Dillons. They’d landed on the lagoon, heading straight
for one of the private islands and relative safety.
“You any closer to knowing what the hell is going on?” Vince
asked, over the rim of his mug.
Tatiana nodded. “I think so. Things are starting to become
clearer.”
“You still want me tagging along?”
“We’re going to need your hacking skills, mate,” Dillon stretched
his arms above his head as he walked over to where Vince and Tatiana
were sitting around the fire.
Tatiana looked up. “We will?”
“We will.” Dillon nodded, sipping at the sweet hot tea as one
hand probed tenderly at his various wounds. “We’re heading back to
Scotland, back to the Highlands,” said Dillon. “I think it’s time we
paid Professor Kirill a visit regarding this Chimera project of his.”

The A-25M amphibious aircraft, piloted by Dillon with Vince
snoring loudly in the back and Tatiana dozing next to him, soared
through the pouring rain, refuelling at a small provincial airfield in
southern France before heading north to the borders of Belgium, the
Netherlands and beyond. Dillon cruised the A-25M, its single prop
engine humming behind the cockpit, their heading due north into the
howling wind and rain that was rapidly turning to sleet.

They cruised over large areas of open French countryside, small
towns and large cities. Dillon glanced down at the fuel gauge, he had
pre-determined that they would have to re-fuel again by the time they
reached the Netherlands, and touched down at a private airstrip just
south of Amsterdam. Dillon flew the aircraft in silence, with only
the engine noise for company, and half an hour later was leaving the
Dutch coastline behind them and only the North Sea ahead. All the
way to their destination - Scotland...

Alix had altered his course to avoid the severe weather coming
off of the North Sea, and was now heading for the Scottish Highlands
up the west coast. The Westland WAH-64 Apache Longbow attack
helicopter cut effortlessly through the rain, its rotors thumping
overhead as they cruised over the Isle of Man, and across the Mull of
Galloway. Twenty minutes later they were flying over the Grampian
mountain range, rising to an incredible altitude until the mountains
snaked away like giant dragon’s teeth behind them. Alix dropped
back down to a few hundred feet above the ground and changed
course again. This time the Apache headed straight for the Sea of the
Hebrides, passed over the Isle of Skye, and ten minutes later as they
entered the Northwest Highland mountain range.

“Down there.” Said the Priest softly, peering forward a little and
looking out of the side window and pointing at the bleak, rugged and
snowbound, yet beautiful, landscape below.

The Longbow helicopter cruised for a few minutes until Lola,
Alix and the Priest saw it; it was a giant of a mountain rising up from
the earth, jagged and fearsome, capped with white sparkling crystal
ice.

“Eagle Point,” said Alix, his voice filled with awe, as it had been
the very first time he had arrived at this place. “Awesome, isn’t it?”
“And the Stage School,” whispered the Priest. The Stage School.
The nickname for an old disused SAS training complex built into the
north side of the mountain, well above the timber line and far away
from roads of all description. One could only reach the facility by
two routes - one was by air, the other by an electrical winch, that
most likely had not been in commission for well over four or five
years, used to haul up a huge wicker basket large enough to hold up
to eight men wearing full kit. The winch worked on a steel line from
the wheelhouse located half way up the mountain side, at about seven
hundred feet above the valley floor.
Alix brought thehelicopter in high, then swooped steeply towards
the opposite mountain slope, hugging the ground before climbing
past snow covered black runs, and higher still, speed decreasing with
the changing pitch of the rotors.
“You see anything down there?”
“It’s too distant and the light is failing,” said the Priest. “Head
for that clearing down in the valley, there in amongst the trees. We can
reach the base of the mountain on foot. That will be the only sure way
to avoid detection. They won’t expect anyone to be stupid enough to
attempt to climb the north face.”
Alix brought the Apache helicopter to a hover twenty feet above
the clearing, did a quick visual scan of the area, and then landed gently.
The rotors slowed, engines dying and clicking, and the three travellers
stepped out from the warmth of the cabin onto a forest bed of pine
needles and dead branches that crackled softly under foot. Melting ice
dripped from the trees around the clearing and Alix and Lola found
themselves looking around, deeply concerned.
“Which way now?” Alix said looking around at the cold wet
landscape, adding a moment later. “This place has the smell of trouble
about it.”
“That’s because ultimately, Alix. This is a
horrifying
place.” The
Priest’s words were true and both Alix and Lola knew it...
Lola approached the Priest, who was kneeling, one hand holding
his Bible, the other touching the frozen earth, head tilted up and eyes
closed as he prayed. “We heading for the basket?” she asked.
“Yes. I have been given divine guidance. We must go now,
darkness will soon be upon us and it would be helpful if we could get
to the base of the mountain before then.” He stood up. Shouldering
their back-packs the small group moved off between the trees, heading
out along the valley made slippery by mud and fern.
Before long they were all sweating and covered with smears of
dirt. The going was tough. There were no natural paths and lots of
heather and bracken to hinder their progress.
The Priest led the way, and Alix dropped back to walk with Lola
as they fought their way over the rough terrain.
“Do you know what that mad bastard has in mind when we get
to the base of that mountain?” Alix said quietly.
“Well, he’s not the most talkative. But I’m sure he will let us
know soon enough. I think we need to wait until we’ve had a good
look around; see exactly what’s going on up that mountain.”
“What’s up that mountain is certain death, if we’re not extremely
careful. The last time I was here, I was part of an SAS squad, wetnursing Kirill and his nerds. I didn’t like this place then, and I like it
even less now.” Alix said matter-of-factly.
Lola said nothing.
Eventually theycame across a pathway; heavily overgrown, a man
made trail just wide enough for two people side by side. They were
able to walk more easily now, aware of their destination as darkness
started to creep up through the valley and an eerie ambient blackness
fell across the earth. As total night fell like a shroud, they emerged into
a small clearing at the base of the sheer jagged rock that appeared to
go all the way to heaven. The Priest motioned them to stop and they
all dropped to a sudden crouch. A silenced Beretta appeared in his
hand and Alix crept up to kneel beside him. “What is it?”
“I heard something.”
Alix palmed his Glock 9mm, complete with silencer, and
squinted into the gloom.
They waited for an indefinable amount of time, kneeling there
in the gently falling snow. Up ahead there was a slight bend in the
trail, sparsely wooded; beyond the turn squatted the old wicker basket
landing platform.
Alix closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds and smells all
around him, the fresh ozone heightened by the clean crisp mountain
air. After five minutes of concentration, he was just about to give up.
The Priest and Lola just behind him. They moved forward cautiously,
halting, constantly checking their surroundings in the gloom - eyes
fixed, ears alert.
As they rounded the bend they came across the snow covered
landing platform with the large eight man wicker basket, similar to
those used for hot-air ballooning, resting alongside a small run-down
building. Its timber structure, decaying from years of neglect and nonuse. A thick steel wire connecting the basket to the winch-house far
above. The door to the building was firmly closed against the tenbelow temperature outside.
The wind howled mournfully through the valley, a light glowed
within the timber building, glimpsed through shrouded windows.
Sentries
, signalled Alix.
Two
.
The Priest and Lola both nodded.
You both wait here
, Alix signalled, and again the Priest and Lola
nodded.
Alix moved towards the door, keeping low and being careful not
to make any sound. He stood up, back against the damp wood. From
inside, he could hear low voices, the accents Far Eastern, possibly
North Korean by the sound of it, complaining about the drafty old
building being colder inside than it was out. Where were the SAS, then?
He thought to himself with a grim smile. And what were communist
soldiers from a closed state, doing in the Highlands of Scotland?
He moved cautiously around to the side of the building and
from this new vantage point, he could see the two soldiers sitting
opposite each other in front of a small two-bar electric fire. Alix heard
the whine of heavy rotors, and glimpsed up to see the flashing red
landing lights of a military Chinook helicopter.
He remained perfectly still, his eyes now fully adjusted to the
gloom. The religious man’s source had been right. There was definitely
something strange going on here.
There was a noise from inside, the sound of boots on timber,
Alix turned, facing the door - which suddenly burst open to reveal
one of the uniformed men, stocky build and heavily muscled like a
Rottweiler. He was smoking a cigarette that dangled from between his
lips and a lethal looking Daewoo K7 9mm silenced SMG slung from
his shoulder. He was squinting - and his eyes opened wide as he saw
Alix’s smiling face.
Alix’s fist connected with a
crack
, and the Korean guard was
punched backwards to land heavily on the frozen earth in front of
the timber building, knocking him unconscious as his head grazed the
smooth surface of the concealed rock. As the second guard appeared
in the doorway, Alix instantly brought up the silenced barrel of the
Glock, so that it was level with the man’s face. He stood perfectly still,
Daewoo K7 9mm SMG in his hand at his side, not sure what to do
next, all the time thinking to himself - can I kill this son-of-a-bitch,
before he kills me...
“Don’t even think about it, sonny,” growled Alix as the young
man looked at him, then down at the K7. The guard made his choice
went to bring the K7’s barrel up, and the Glock
spat
in Alix’s grip; the
guard was flung back inside the building, sprawling out on his back
in the middle of the small room. Blood spattered up across the walls,
and from the obliterated skull, blood and brain matter oozed out to
mix with the grime and dust on the wooden floor, pooling around the
man’s head. Alix cursed.
The Priest stood up, Lola followed, and they both walked over
to Alix, who was now standing over the unconscious first guard. Alix
kicked him sharply in the kidneys, making him gasp with the pain, as
he moved past to the guard lying on the floor inside. Alix checked the
dead guard and then stepped back outside; Lola had grabbed hold of
the living guard and had dragged him up into a sitting position, and
was shaking him by the shoulders.
“How many of you are there?”Lola spoke to the semi-conscious
man in fluent Korean.
The man shook his head, a mouth as narrow as a pencil line.
“What are North Korean soldiers doing here,” said Lola. “And
what the hell are they really guarding?”
“What do you think about the cable, I suppose it’s likely to be
shot to hell; not many people know about this access to the facility,
and less reason to guard it. I think though, that these two Herberts
were down here
because you never know
...
“Why not use Assassins?” Lola said looking around.
“Be thankful they’re not,” said the Priest, adding. “But these two
intrigue me. Why are there North Korean soldiers in Scotland? And
how many more of them are there, because they didn’t walk here on
their own.”
“These fuckers are packing Daewoo K7 9mm silenced
submachine guns. The thing about this particular SMG; is that it fires
a subsonic 9mm cartridge, and utilizes a simple blow-back system, has
three firing modes, single shot - a 3-round burst and fully automatic.
In the auto mode it has a cyclicrate of fire of 1150 rounds per minute.
And that scrawny bugger was definitely going to cut me in half with
his. Good thing he didn’t get the chance. Stupid young man.”
The Priest was standing between the basket and the building,
looking up at the very distant winch-house above. “Kill the light
inside,” he said softly, and dropped his rucksack onto the timber
floor. He pulled free night-vision binoculars and peered up through
the snow filled expanse.
“There’s movement up there, helicopters coming and going.”
“What are they up to?”
“Can’t tell from down here, angle’s all wrong and this snow isn’t
helping either,” said the Priest. “Even as we speak two more Chinooks
have landed and taken off again. So it must be something important
to risk manoeuvring large helicopters around these mountains in such
bad weather. The top of this mountain is very busy for a Government
research and development facility, I’d say.”
“So what now?”
“We need to get closer.”
“This basket hasn’t moved for quite some time,” said Alix slowly.
“I doubt it would be safe, even if there was power still piped into
the winch-house, which is highly unlikely. What are you thinking?”
“I need to get closer,” said the Priest. “I will go up the wire.”
“That would make you more insane than me.” said Alix softly.
“You forget, Alix. The Lord will protect me.”
“Really...”
“He has done okay so far, as I’m still alive.”
Alix ran his hand through his wet hair, and then peered up at the
swaying cable running straight up the side of the mountain and into
- nothing - total darkness. “I will, of course, have to come with you,”
he said without enthusiasm.
“That will not be necessary, Alix.” Said the Priest.
“Excuse me, Priest.” growled Alix softly. “We haven’t come to
this God forsaken place to sit on the side-line. We’re here to find out
who and what has totally obliterated Scorpion, and is fucking around
with a potentially devastating global computer virus; I can’t let
you
go
alone.”
Alix smiled, and then walked back to Lola. Spoke to her for a
moment, before walking back to the basket and stared upwards. Alix
knew from his time here that this area of the facility was virtually
invisible to the prying eye.
“That’s an awfully long way to climb,” said Lola, coming to stand
beside him.
“Yeah, so I see. Grab your pack, if you’re coming.”
The Priest stepped forward. From his own pack he took out a
small metallic device; he checked it over and inspected the clamping
mechanism.
“You brought one of those new climb assist gizmos with you?”
The Priest nodded, and pulled out two more of the tiny devices,
handing one each to Alix and Lola. He then picked up one of the
Daewoo K7 sub-machine gun, unclipped the magazine and checked
that it was fully loaded, and then slung the lethal weapon across his
shoulder. Alix did the same and then went over to stand beside Lola
who was checking over her Heckler & Koch MP5. A moment later
and the Priest was attaching the small climb-assist device to the base
of the thick cable just above the wicker basket.
“How convinced are you, that these are the bad guys?” Lola
asked the Priest.
He gave her a sideways glance and nodded “On a scale of one to
ten, I would say ten and a half. If it transpires, as I think it will; then
this facility is now under the control of those other than professor
Kirill, and that they are planning, according to intelligence reports,
what will almost certainly be a global computer Armageddon. This
place makes an ideal base for that sort of operation - mostly because it
is so easily defended. Anyone who knew about the SAS Stage School
facility would know that much of the equipment that was left behind
could easily be utilised, even with a modicum of military expertise.”
“Well, we’ll soon be finding out,” said Alix. He pulled a black
balaclava over his wet face, and the others did likewise; now, all in
black and carrying the K7 silenced SMGs and regulation issue Glock
pistols, the three of them looked truly terrifying.
“Lola, you stay down here. Keep your comm. open at all times,
and yourself out of sight. We’ll be banking on you to make
sure
that
we don’t get any nasty surprises at the back door.” The Priest said.
Lola nodded and immediately moved off to her position inside the
timber building.
The Priest was checking the mountain for any activity through
his night-vision binoculars. He was agitated, annoyed at what he was
viewing. “There’s far too much activity up there, two more helicopters
have just left, and one more has just landed. It would appear that we’ve
chosen a busy time to visit, but it would account for our approach
run not being questioned. They obviously assumed that we were just
another in-bound.”