Chimera Code (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) (43 page)

BOOK: Chimera Code (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series)
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* * *

Alix, the Priest, Vince and Lola were all crashed out in the main
cabin of the multi-million dollar Lear jet. They were all sprawled,
sleeping in the luxurious reclining seats, Vince was snoring loudly at
the rear of the aircraft, Alix and Lola curled up next to each other and
the Priest, eyes closed, sitting upright in one of the front seats. And
that left only…

…Dillon. He sat at the front of the hanger, to one side of the
partially closed doorway, staring out into the night, mulling over
thoughts of catamaran stealth ships and Assassins. He could not
understand; could not understand, how they could move so fast
without making even the tiniest sound, could not understand, why
they were so good at killing. Because he knew that even at his age,
he
was pretty good, if not one of the best. And, that if he was totally
outclassed by these black clothed creatures.

“What the hell do you do that makes you like that?” He mused
as he lit a cigarette, and blew smoke into the cold night air. “What is
the connection with Ramus? And why did Ezra really pull out from
Kirill’s team, all those years ago?”

He watched the smoke as it was snatched by the wind and
dispersed.
That’s what you’re about to do, isn’t it? You’re going to
snatch
away the world’s feeling of security.
And then he remembered Tatiana, the look of shock and pain
on her face as she fell away from the aircraft in Grand Bahama.
Dillon shook his head.
Shit always happens to the good people, he thought. It’s just the
way it goes.
A low drone came from the other side of the airfield.
And then in a burst of landing lights the JetRanger helicopter
loomed from the darkness, hovering into view, and climbed slightly,
then dropped smoothly, rotors throbbing, towards the apron in front
of the Ferran & Cardini International hanger. Engines screamed. The
rotors whined in deceleration. Then there was just the sound of the
wind and hot metal cooling.
Dillon shaded his eyes against the glare of the JetRanger’s
powerful forward spot lights, climbed to his feet and walked out
across the tarmac.
A familiar face met Dillon’s scowl, a tall angular man with neatly
groomed fair hair stepped down from the executive helicopter. He was
wearing a long black overcoat, unbuttoned, that as he walked across
the apron, flapped open to show a navy blue wide pinstripe suit. The
tall man held a slim Cuban panatela cigar between the fore and centre
fingers of his right hand, the tip glowed as he drew on the cigar. “Ah,
Jake. Good of you to join the real-world at this time of trouble.”
Dillon blinked.
“LJ - what the hell are you doing here?”
“Moral support, old son. Moral support.”
Dillon raised an eyebrow, “Oh well you’d better come inside the
hanger, then.” He led the way inside the cavernous space, the others
had all awoken and were stood around Vince and his tiny camping
stove on the far side, next to the battered Lear jet.
“I say, Jake. So much damage in such a short time! I see you’ve
not lost your touch, old son.” LJ said, casting his eye over the black,
bullet riddled, fuselage of the Ferran & Cardini Learjet. “It’s good to
see you’ve still got your sense of humour, LJ!” Dillon said smiling. He
pulled a cigarette from the packet and lit it.
Edward Levenson-Jones walked over to Vince Sharp, who
handed his boss a steaming mug of tea. He turned to face the small
gathering, “I’ve dropped in, to tell you personally that the Prime
Minister’s order has now been issued and giving you carte blanche on
this extremely arduous assignment. Needless to say, you have the full
weight of No 10 behind you. Anything you want, just ask.”
“Anything? Well, that’s reassuring.” Alix blurted.
LJ went on, “Your assignment is simple - to stop Ramus from
launching a fully functioning Chimera virus programme. Jake, you
have managed to halt this up to now, by ensuring the optical disc
remained out of his reach. But the latest intelligence reports indicate
that Ramus has been busy, he’s had some of the best hackers on the
planet writing the missing elements to the Chimera scripts and is now
only hours away from causing global chaos.”
“Where is Ramus now?” Lola asked.
“His last known location was somewhere off the coast of
South America. But, the CIA has been tracking him with their newest
satellite. Apparently, even a stealth ship can’t hide anymore. It turns
out that he’s heading our way to collect something so vital to his plan,
that he’s willing to jeopardise everything by doing so.”
“What about the Anthrax canisters the Priest found on the
abandoned Chinook in Norfolk? Do you think Ramus is planning
a bio-attack as well as Chimera?” Dillon asked, exhaling a plume of
cigarette smoke.
“It wasn’t Anthrax, turned out to be pure cocaine, old son. The
street value of that single canister has been estimated to be at least
fifty million sterling. The Anthrax labels were just a ruse, Jake. What
better way to transport Class-A drugs, than in such a
deadly
container.”
“Ramus is a cocaine trafficker? Well, that’s a relief...”
LJ shot Dillon a look of exasperation, dropped his cigar butt
onto the floor and stubbed it out with the sole of his expensive handmade leather shoe. “Sit tight here until the CIA confirms exactly where
this lunatic Ramus is. Oh, and Jake, please keep me in the loop, old
son.” He turned and walked out through the hanger door, a moment
later the JetRanger helicopter lifted off the apron.

* * *

And wait they did...
Alix took a seat on a stack of empty wooden crates.
“Lola, what’s new, girl?”
Lola glanced down at him.
“Tea, love.”
She handed him a mug filled with steaming tea.
“Lots of sugar, Alix, just how you like it.”
“Cheers, luv.” He took a sip and stared out across the vast

hanger, the end of his cigarette glowed in the gloom as he pulled hard
to get the maximum hit.
“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, wrapping his leather coat around him. “Just
tired. Tired of all the shit.”
Lola sat beside him, putting her arm around his shoulder, and he
looked at her, surprised. She pressed her lips against his unshaven face
and the smell of her hair filled his senses.
“Hello?”
“Mmmm?”
“You feeling horny, luv?” He grinned his boyish flirtatious
roguish grin.
Lola met his gaze. His cheeky grin disappeared when he saw the
seriousness there. “You’ve always been an insolent fucker, Alix. But I
have really enjoyed working with you. I feel - I don’t know - I have a
very bad feeling about what we’re about to do.”
Alix nodded. “It’s what we do, though,” he said softly. “Ramus,
and Kirill - they’re about to bring this planet to its knees. And what
will evolve, is a world of uncertainty and fear of the like of you and I
have never seen! If we don’t stop this fanatic from launching Chimera.
Well, the alternative is unthinkable.”’
“Yeah, I know. But... not everybody is going to make it back.”
She licked her lips. They gleamed in the light from Alix’s
cigarette. She reached up, suddenly, and kissed him, a long lingering
pressing together of lips, and Alix felt lust rush through his body with
a ferocity that he had forgotten.
She pulled away.
Alix smiled at her. “Wow, would you like to do that again?”
“If we come through this, I’ll think about it. Maybe...”
Alix nodded. “Thanks, luv. I’ll hold you to that.” They both
stood up and walked across the hanger to the Lear, and a few hours
of sleep until dawn.

* * *

As the tendrils of light crept over the airfield and into the hanger,
Alix rose bleary-eyed, stretched the sleep out of his aching muscles,
thinking of what lay ahead. He rubbed at his eyes, then at his stubble,
lit a cigarette and went over to where Dillon, Vince and the Priest
were drinking mugs of steaming hot black coffee. Outside, the sound
of helicopter engines screaming and rotors beating the cold morning
air could be heard...

“What’s all the noise outside?”

Dillon looked up and said. “Security Services. Three helis,
courtesy of MI5, along with nine experienced tactical assault field
officers as company.”

Alix walked outside to a hive of activity.
There were three Bell 206B-3 JetRanger helicopters, filling the
apron with their metal menace. Each had engines screaming, rotors
hissing through the cold early morning air, waiting for the instruction
to go, glinting in the glorious dawn sunlight.
Alix’s jaw dropped.
He didn’t need to be an expert, although he was, to see that these
hover-birds were brand new and adapted for the security service,
armed to the teeth with the latest weapon systems.
The Priest came out through the hanger doors and stood beside
him, quoting from the small leather Bible, a look of wildness in his
eyes. Alix’s gaze roved across the three helicopters, scanning the
occupants inside the cockpits, some of whom he would have worked
with on ops in the past.
Moments later, the helicopters’ engines were shut down and
whirling rotors slowed to a gradual halt. All of the occupants got
out and came over to where the Priest and Alix were standing. Alix
immediately recognised the attractive Italian intelligence officer
named Sophia Mazzaro, who had been seconded to MI5 for the past
six months, her speciality, assassination.
The Priest led the nine new-comers into the hanger where,
Dillon, Vince and Lola met them and everyone took a moment to get
acquainted.
Alix followed them all inside and climbed up onto a fifty-gallon
drum. A torrent of strength rushed through him and drowned his
despair.
“Can I have your attention!” he bellowed.
Voices trailed off, and slowly all the intelligence officers along
with the others turned towards this man who hadn’t had a shave or a
bath for over a week and looked like he’d been to hell and back. His
gaze met with that of the Priest, who gave him a quick glance and a
nod.
Alix took a drag on his cigarette. “Ladies and gentleman, and
men of God,” his words rolled out on a cloud of smoke, “You all
know why you’re here and what this assignment will involve. Our job
is to ensure that the threat to the UK and Global security network
is eliminated, and that Ramus is liquidated at the earliest possible
opportunity. This man, if allowed to roam freely around the planet,
will change the way we live our lives, if he is actually allowed to launch
the Chimera virus programme. For those of you who are not familiar
with Chimera, let me tell you; it is the most advanced piece of viral
software that has ever been written. A silent attacker - undetectable -
devastatingly aggressive - intuitive and most of all - infinitely adaptive.
It reacts to the environment it has invaded, in the blink of an eye - a
Chameleon. Once it’s in, it can extract every piece of data from the
hardrive, send it to a remote server and literally take over the system,
whether it’s a single computer, a corporate or government mainframe,
military networks or
any
computer that is connected to the Internet.
It can get past anti-virus software, firewalls and protected networks,
no matter how many layers or encryptions, they have. Am I painting a
graphic enough picture for you all?”
The intelligence men and woman all nodded.
Alix continued, “Ramus is the man who has systematically
destroyed Scorpion and has murdered many good people, some of
whom were
friends
as well.”
More nods from around the gathering.
Alix’s wide-eyed gaze roved over the small, yet, elite group. He
exchanged glances with Dillon, Lola, Vince and the Priest. Sophia
Mazzaro gave him a tiny smile, the sunlight catching her mane
of auburn hair, and her dark eyes flashing bright with a sort of
inappropriate flirtatiousness, and Alix beamed her a huge smile: they
had got together from time to time. His gaze took in the eight MI5
officers: all were ready, all had weapons primed, all were ready to do
their duty for Queen and country against the evil that was attempting
to change the world and change it bad.
Alix smiled slowly.
“Intelligence reports are that the virus programme is not ready
to be launched, the Chimera version the enemy possesses - is missing
some of the vital script. The optical disc with it on is locked inside a
safe on board the stealth ship that Ramus uses as his mobile operations
centre...”
Dillon stepped forward, turned and stood in front of the group.
“And this,” he held up his hand holding the optical disc that
Claudia Dax had given him. “Is the disc that contains the vital script.
In fact this is a copy that has been modified, so that anyone trying to
merge this version with the one that Ramus has, will automatically
erase both. Rather cunning, really.”
“But, it would appear that Ramus has had some very capable
people working on Chimera and is now very close to cracking these
last vital elements. Once that happens, he will be unstoppable... So,
it’s lucky for us that the Americans have located the stealth ship using
one of their newest spy satellites - and now we know where he is -
we
are the only ones who can make a difference.” Alix said, and jumped
down off the fifty-gallon drum. “And we will win,” he said, his words
soft as he tossed his spent cigarette down.
“We will be given a sat-link assignment briefing by Edward
Levenson-Jones at 14.30 this afternoon; be ready people, we move
out at sunset. We have a madman to kill.”

* * *

Dillon walked slowly around the hanger, looking up at the
battered fuselage of the Lear and the Apache, both looked worse
for wear. He knew how they felt! He suddenly needed to be in the
daylight. Outside, he walked over to take a closer look at the three
JetRangers on the hard-standing; red fuselage gleaming in the sunlight,
heavy calibre machine guns and air-to-air missile launchers attached to
the underside of their airframes. Inside the cockpit more fire-power;
Heckler & Koch MP6 carbines, grenades, cases of ammunition and
high-explosive. “Impressive.” Dillon said out loud, and thought that
these men were supposed to be the best. Although they were all
travelling under the auspice of MI5, Dillon and the others knew that
everyone of them had been hand-picked from the elite regiments and
security agencies, and that they all knew exactly what was expected of
them.

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