Code Breakers Complete Series: Books 1-4 (46 page)

“General, with all due respect, I’m my own woman. I don’t like to be manipulated, I—”

Vickers slammed on fist on the desk as he stood. “Dammit girl, you really think I’m trying to manipulate you? I’m trying to ensure we all have a future, even your precious Jimmy goddamned Robertson. What do we need to do get him on-board, or what do you need to get full access to the LEMP?”

“Let me talk with him first. He deserves that much.”

“I have a better idea,” Vickers said. “I want you to get close to the new girl, Petal. I’ve seen the way Robertson looks at her. The guy loves her like his own child. Hell, I suppose she is his child. Get her on side. Use her as leverage when convincing him. If that doesn’t work, I’m taking the damned thing by force.”

“Fine, give me a bit of time first.”

“You’ve got about two hours. The satellite is due back around in about four hours, and I want to make sure we’ve got time to get it setup and ready.”

“I best get on with it then,” Sasha said.

“I don’t mean to be such a hard-ass about this, but it’s time we took to the surface. I, and I think everyone in this compound, is sick of hiding. It’s now or never.”

“What comes after that?” she said. “If this does work, what then?”

“We deploy the androids and wipe the Red Widows out of Darkhan and GeoCity-1 and take the Dome for ourselves.”

“The androids? But what about the software?”

Vickers smiled then. “I’ve had someone work on that. We’ve tested a few out on the surface. They’re good to go, with a bit of fine-tuning. Now, I suggest you work on Petal and Robertson. We could use someone of Petal’s experience in the field.”

Vickers sat there staring at her, waiting for her to move.

She nodded once and left the room. She exhaled as soon as she closed the door. Her head pounded with tension and anxiety. She hated Vickers for putting her in this position, but she had to give him credit for being proactive. And deep down, she knew he was right. They couldn’t keep hiding away, waiting. The time to leave had come.

As she walked down the maze of corridors towards the health unit to speak with Petal, she felt a spring in her step, motivation, excitement. This was it. She would finally go above ground, and do what she had trained to do. Her time had come.

Chapter 21

Gerry kept moving, pulling an old rag around his head to hide his optical implant. If the Red Widows by the checkpoint spotted it, they’d have him ground to pieces in no time. He had to pass the checkpoint if he were to get to the tower where ‘the man in the box’ lived.

The sea of filthy survivors ambled onwards, the fanatics at the checkpoint laughing amongst each other as they drunk hot tea from flasks. Those who starved and were dying of thirst looked on with disgust—but not enough so as to catch their attention and receive a beating.

Just a few more feet and Gerry would pass the checkpoint, and that great spinal bridge. He tried not to stare, to blend in, but he felt like he had a giant target on his head. A red bouncing arrow saying: ‘This is your man, get him.’

The laughter stopped as he shuffled close. Had they noticed he wasn’t one of the other desperate survivors barely clinging on to life? Had they somehow noticed that he was a little too full around the body? He wanted to look up, be assured, but he gritted his teeth, stared at the ground, and huddled forward.

He let out a breath as he continued onwards and no hand gripped his shoulder, no urgent voice called out to him, but still, something behind him stirred. An animalistic panic broke out amongst the shambling horde. Someone cried out as they fell to the ground.

The guttural language of the fanatics had raised an octave.

Despite himself, Gerry turned to see what had happened, and as he did, he heard gunfire. He caught a muzzle flash from the side of his vision. He traced it up to the side of the tower looking down on the bridge, directly opposite it. It appeared the man in the box had a gun.

The skull and brain matter of a Red Widow sprayed against a bunch of Darkhan survivors. That’s when the panic kicked in. Another shot rang out taking down a second fanatic, then a third and a fourth.

Heaving bodies had trapped Gerry, tangled him in a pile of writhing meat. Arms and legs sprawled on the ground, entangling Gerry’s progress.

The last remaining checkpoint Widow lifted her shotgun and fired. The contents of the shell ricocheted against the stone of the tower uselessly. A bullet struck the ground by her feet, missing by a couple of centimetres. She dropped her gun and sprinted over the bridge.

She got less than halfway when a single shot through the back of her knee sent her sprawling to the black asphalt surface. She screamed, crawled, and dragged herself forwards when a final shot through her spine made her curl upwards like a dead fish.

That’s when Gerry saw it: a green laser.

It danced about the dirty coats and faces like a lightning bug. Gerry traced its trajectory, looked up to the tower. And there, about ten floors up, a familiar face: Liza-Marie, the woman who had accompanied Len and his group of Upsiders and the one who had gone on to recover the vaccines after he’d hacked the security. If she was there, it must mean the node was there, the backbone. Omega! The ‘man in the box’ must be the AI inside.

“Gerry God Damned Cardle? That you?” A voice called down at him. It was her!

He raised his hand and nodded. He wasn’t exactly sure if they could be trusted, what with Len being killed back at Cemprom while helping Gerry, but either way, it was good to see a familiar face, even if it was behind a rifle scope and a half-mask.

“Stay where you are, someone’s coming down,” she said, lifting the rifle and backing away into the darkness of the dead tower.

Despite what she said, Gerry jumped over a struggling pile of bodies, and dashed to the body of the robed-fanatic who carried a shotgun. Already three people fought over her robes and belongings, including the shotgun. He couldn’t let that get loose amongst these people. Desperation and firearms never mixed well.

With a quick punch to the chin, Gerry knocked out a frail man who had clutched the weapon. He hated doing it, but it was the quickest way to avoid an issue. And given that all four of the fanatics lay bloodied on the ground, it wouldn’t be long before reinforcements arrived.

A Jaguar hovered on the other side of the city. He doubted it’d take more than a few minutes to fly over and coat the roads in bullets or frag grenades.

“Give’s it to us, man,” A black-toothed woman said, clawing at Gerry’s face, while trying to wrestle the weapon from him.

He tried to fend her off gently, persuade her to go, but she kept coming at him. “I’m sorry,” Gerry said as he swung the butt of the shotgun against her face knocking her to the ground.

From behind him a shotgun exploded, followed by a scream, and the waves of panic started all over again as people rushed for cover and safety, creating a wall of muscle and bone.

Someone had picked up the loose gun the Widow on the bridge had dropped.

It looked like a couple of older men were fighting over it when it went off. A full-scale riot amongst the homeless broke out.

Before Gerry got stuck in the middle, he yanked himself clear, forcing his way through the melee until he faced the old shot-out glass doors of the tower. Its dark grey stone was pitted and blackened with smoke from decades of fighting. It stood like a beat-up colossus, refusing to die, calcifying with age.

An old steel and wooden barrier stood in the doorframe. Various graffiti from the disparate gangs who probably fought over its control adorned its surface. The barrier rattled and moved to the side. A dark shape appeared in the gap. Gerry switched on his dark-vision. He saw the half-mask on the man’s face and knew he was one of Len’s men. An Upsider.

“Quick, before it gets even more out of hand,” the shadowy figure said reaching a hand out to Gerry and grabbing him by the arm.

“Thanks,” Gerry said, once inside away from the riot.

The foyer lay in darkness. An old escalator had tumbled out of its shaft and lay on the broken tiles like a dead wardrobe. The reception desk had been tipped over, its surface pierced with hundreds of bullet holes.

“We’re up on the eleventh,” the man said pointing his laser-pistol to the dark concrete steps.

“What’s your name?”

“Pietor,” he said. “I know what happened to Len. I know that you delivered his software package. You’re in no danger from us.”

“I hope not,” Gerry said. “I really appreciated what Len did and I’m sorry he didn’t make it out.”

Pietor shrugged. His eyes narrowed slightly and he looked away. He wore a form-fitting black suit and a half-mask that hid the lower half of his face. Gerry remembered their mutated features from when Len had shown him his face, the results of inbreeding and radiation poisoning.

“Is it still safe? The server?”

“Come with me. We probably don’t have long before the Red Widows come back in force.”

Pietor led Gerry up ten flights of stairs, and it seemed like he had climbed all the way to space by the time they reached the top.

“Elevator’s out, huh?” Gerry said about half way to break the tension. Pietor, clearly not a fan of idle humour, shrugged once more and carried on marching up the stairs.

Pietor stopped outside a metal door with ‘L’ scratched into its surface. He knocked, and a spy-hole opened. A green eye peered out, blinked, and then the door unlocked, creaking on old hinges.

“Gerry Cardle. What the hell are you doing out here?” Liza-Marie said, sitting on an old wooden chair, her back to the window that overlooked the bridge and dried-up river. Her compatriot, Ghanus, prowled to the side of the door, gave Gerry a respectful nod of acknowledgement.

The door locked behind him. Pietor stood sentry with his arms crossed and his laser pistol in hand.

“Fancied a stroll,” Gerry said. “How’s tricks?”

“Tricks are tricky.” Liza-Marie placed her rifle on the floor and walked over to Gerry with her hand out. “Let’s get off on the right foot this time,” she said.

“Good shooting, by the way.” He nodded out the window. “Nice work.”

“We were kinda pushed into that. Ideally, we’d have let them be, but we couldn’t let them stay there and give our position away.”

“Someone did,” Gerry said. “A small girl, crippled legs.”

Liza-Marie shrugged. “Is that meant to mean something?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. She told me she could hear me and that the man in the box was up here.”

The Upsider’s face scrunched. “What does that mean?”

“I’m assuming the server. You have Omega here, right?” Already Gerry could hear the familiar whine of the Jaguar’s VTOL rotors. It seemed they had got the message already and weren’t wasting any time.

“Yeah, we have it,” Liza-Marie said, staring at Gerry as if trying to divine his intentions.

“I’m not here for trouble,” he said. “Things have got out of control. We need to secure it.”

“That’s what we’ve been doing here.”

Gerry shuffled his weight, eager to get moving. “I’m not sure taking out a checkpoint is a good way to remain secure.”

“We had little choice,” Liza-Marie said, wiping the sweat from her exposed forehead. “You see, Red Widow have been securing all buildings with power, and those in strategic positions without, and with this being fairly securable and overlooking the bridge. It’s the reason why we set up here. They thought they’d take it for themselves.”

“Given their firepower I don’t think that’s going to be too difficult for them.”

“We were fine until they expanded their control on the city. But we were making plans.”

She cocked her head to one side towards a door at the end of the room. The rotten wood, covered with fungus, hung from its hinges like a drunk from a lamppost.

“What’s in there?”

“Come see.”

She led the way, held the door open. The darkness beyond invited Gerry inside. He hesitated for a second, felt a tingle on his arms as a wisp of cool air flowed out. Coolant gas.

He stepped forward into the room. Liza-Marie followed, closing the door behind.

It was a regular hotel bedroom, sans furniture. In the middle of the room, humming quietly, sat the server Omega: the man in the box. Two half-masked men sat on wooden chairs either side of it.

Gerry’s heart jumped. He quickly sent a text message across his VPN to Malik:

—I’ve found the server. Things are about to escalate. Await my instructions. Stay where you are.

Malik sent back:

—What the hell’s going on? What do you mean?

— Give me a few minutes. I’ll update you shortly.

“You know they’re looking for this?” Gerry said pointing to the server.

“Everyone is.”

“You realise what it is, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean really what it is. Not just the backbone for the Meshwork.” He didn’t want to say too much in case she didn’t know, in fact from the glazed-over expression he knew she didn’t realise its significance. That was a good thing, but also a tricky thing. How could he get them onside and give up the server? They’d spent most of their lifetime protecting it as if it were some spiritual oracle. They were on some divine quest like the Templars of old.

“What are you getting at, Gerry?”

“Look, we need to talk about the server, and this whole situation.”

“Well? Talk.”

“I need the server.”

“That’s what all this is gonna come down to ain’t it?” Liza-Marie said, leaning nonchalantly up against the filthy and paper-torn wall.

“What do you mean?” Gerry asked.

“You want the server, we want to keep it safe. Red Widows are crawling all over the place. Are you a friend or enemy in this scenario?”

“There’s, what? Four of you?” Gerry said.

When Liza-Marie didn’t respond, he knew the truth of it. “You can’t last against the Red Widows. You think you can get the server out of here without someone noticing? You hear that Jaguar getting closer? This place is going to be rubble in no time. You want to be buried under the stone and debris protecting a server you have no use for?”

“What are you suggesting, Gerry?”