Authors: Malcolm Rose
Eli laughed happily.
In an instant, Jordan reclaimed control over it. He shook it, bent it at the elbow, flexed the wrist and made a fist. “Thanks.”
“I will release your other features now,” Eli said to him.
“Good.”
Eli typed some more and the disconnected BCI in Jordan’s head came to life. It felt as if someone had just switched on a wireless broadband router. He was no longer cut off from the
web.
“Hey!” Eli cried. “Someone’s trying to network with this laptop.”
“Raven!” Jordan lifted his right arm and smashed it down on the computer. He shattered the keypad, crushed the hard drive and put a sizeable dent in the bonnet of the Toyota.
“I bet she was trying to take a copy of the Trojan programs.”
“And download them somewhere else so she could carry on,” Kate added.
“Maybe she was successful,” said Eli.
For a moment, Jordan stared at Eli. Then he said, “She can’t be far away and she must be in front of a computer right now.”
“A computer shop or an internet café?” Kate suggested.
“I know,” Jordan replied. “I’m online. Searching. Yes! There’s an internet café at the airport. That’s the nearest. South Terminal. Come on!” He
looked at the digger and two cars blocking the Jaguar’s way. “It’ll be quicker to use your car, Kate.”
They jumped into the Toyota and Kate put her foot down. In four minutes, she screeched to a halt outside the South Terminal and parked illegally right outside the entrance. Bewildered, Eli
didn’t move as the other two got out and dashed inside. Jordan glanced up and down the concourse. He hesitated only for a moment.
His GPS chip told him exactly where he was and an augmented reality site gave him directions to the internet café. It overlaid the information on his vision.
“This way,” he called, sprinting to the right and wincing at the twinges in his ankles and knees.
There had not yet been an official announcement about the fate of Flight TOM4762. No one had been told that AM5699 was returning to the airport. Gatwick looked almost normal, except that the
departure and arrivals boards were beginning to show a lot of delays. The only sign of an alert was the appearance of two heavily armed guards at every check-in desk.
Together, Jordan and Kate dodged passengers, their luggage and check-in queues. They hurtled past shops, car hire kiosks, foreign exchange booths and travel information desks. They dashed up the
escalator to Gatwick Village. At the far end, they ran into the internet café. And Raven was not there.
Jordan took a breath and said, “She’s been here.”
“How do you know?”
He sniffed the air. “Her perfume.” Straight away, he spun round and stared down the length of the hall.
“What now?” asked Kate.
“A man somewhere just shouted, ‘That woman’s swiped my laptop!’”
“Did he? I didn’t hear…”
“Look!”
A middle-aged man was chasing Raven as she dashed for the stairs and exit. He didn’t stand a chance of catching her.
But Jordan could not afford to let her get away. If she’d downloaded her Trojan programs onto a memory stick and snatched a working laptop, she’d need only a few minutes to install
the software before she was back in business. Devastating business.
Jordan took off.
Raven raced down the stairs and along the concourse. She probably didn’t realize that Jordan was not far behind. Further back, Kate ran as fast as she could, but she
couldn’t keep up with Jordan’s pace.
Outside, Raven came to an abrupt halt and stared at Eli Kennington with an expression of surprise. He was standing beside a white Toyota, watching as a security officer attached a rope to its
rear. The uniformed attendant was preparing to hoist it onto a pick-up truck and remove it as a security risk. The truck’s engine idled as the winch reversed the car slowly up the ramp.
When Eli spotted Raven, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. For a moment, neither of them said anything to each other. Then Eli blurted out, “You stole...”
Raven wasn’t going to start a conversation. She’d probably worked out that Kennington would not be on his own. No doubt guessing that Jordan and Kate were nearby, she took one look
at the man operating the winch and made for him. He was concentrating on dealing with the illegally parked Toyota so he didn’t see her until it was too late. With all her strength, she swung
the laptop at him and the edge thwacked into the side of his head, just above his ear. Instantly, he was dazed and confused. Raven yanked him away from the controller, jumped into the cab and
jabbed her foot down on the accelerator.
Emerging from the terminal’s main entrance, Jordan took in the situation at once. He hurtled towards the wagon as it screeched away from the kerb, not quite piggybacking Kate’s car.
He couldn’t run fast enough to draw alongside the cab. The best he could do was to reach the back. The ramp was grating on the tarmac, sending out sparks, and the front wheels of the Toyota
were still on the road. Held only loosely by the rope, the car was swinging dangerously and unpredictably from side to side. Yet jumping on board was Jordan’s sole chance of hanging on to
Raven. If he got his timing wrong, though, he could easily trap a leg. If he waited too long, she’d accelerate away from him.
He dived at the rear of the wagon, scrabbling to get a grip. He put his back against the left-hand side and his right foot on the Toyota to stop it slamming into him. Then he edged up the gap
towards the winch and the cab. At every twist and turn in the road, he was jolted and pummelled, but still he clambered gradually up the steep ramp.
The wagon left the airport grounds and gathered speed along a single-carriageway.
The floor of the truck levelled out at the top, so the rear of the Toyota was not as free to sway into him. He grabbed hold of a rail attached to the back of the cab. He was safer there, but he
had no obvious way of getting to the driver. He wondered if he should simply wait until she stopped, but he was eager to complete his mission. He didn’t want to give Raven any more
opportunities to escape.
He climbed up the wall of the cab, resting his feet on the rail. He could see right over it now and the wind blasted his face as Raven tore along a minor road at high speed. His hair streamed
out behind him and his jacket ballooned like a small sail. Instinct made him keep his head down as the truck went under a low bridge though there was ample clearance. Then he decided what he had to
do.
Eleven days ago in an idle moment, Jordan had wondered whether he could punch his way through the roof of a car in an emergency. Now he had an emergency and he was about to find out. But instead
of bursting out of a car, he was going to try to break in through the top of the cab.
Holding on with his left hand, he raised his artificial arm. Flaps of silicone skin, ripped by the rope, dangled from his hand. Summoning strength and determination, he jabbed downwards with the
fist. The metallic roof bent inwards and a slight gash appeared at the bottom of the dent. The small slit was enough to give him hope. He lifted up his arm again.
The wagon skidded round a corner. A clear attempt to throw him off the roof. The whole vehicle lurched and Kate’s car smacked into the side-wall.
Jordan gave up on the idea of a second punch and instead clung on tightly. It was like being on a flimsy raft tossed by huge waves.
Raven turned the steering wheel violently again, veered into a field and accelerated. Bouncing across the farmland, she tried to shake the intruder down from his perch above her head.
Jordan’s body lifted at one moment and then bashed down onto the top of the cab the next. It didn’t get any easier when the wagon went up a small slope, took off and almost
immediately crashed down onto a stony track. The Toyota yanked on the rope and the winch gave way a little. Even more sparks sprayed from the edge of the ramp as it clattered over the stones.
Deciding that, sooner or later, the wild fairground ride would get the better of him, Jordan changed his tactics. As quickly as he could, he slid off the cab and grabbed the winch to steady
himself. In danger of being crushed by the swaying Toyota, he made his way round the back of the pick-up truck, grasping the side for stability. Slowly, he neared the front of Kate’s car.
Perilously close to the lip of the ramp and the rough track, he clutched the side with his left hand and ducked down. Almost immediately, the car swung at him and struck his head. He lost his grip
and fell flat on the metallic ramp. He had no choice but to keep as low as possible so, when the car slithered from side to side, it would move right over him.
He tried to concentrate on the underneath of the Toyota. Lifting his head to look down the length of it, the exhaust system hit his face but at least he spotted what he needed. A large flat area
near the rear was the bottom of the fuel tank. A tube led from it to the engine. Wasting no time, he grabbed the pipe with his bionic hand and wrenched it from its fixing near the engine block. At
once, petrol began to flow out of the broken end and trickle down the ramp.
Jordan rolled over and came out between the front and rear wheels. Sparks were still flying where the edge of the ramp scraped over the stones. He stood up and clambered onto the side of the
wagon. Desperate to jump clear, he muttered a curse. The pocket of his jacket had caught on a post. He had no time to disentangle it. He yanked on the jacket, ripping the leather. Then he leaped
into the air and away from the wagon. He landed with a thud at the side of the track. His legs crashed down on stone, but his upper body was cushioned by grass. Even so, he grunted with the
impact.
Back up on his knees, he watched the pick-up wagon bumping along the track. He hoped the jolting would encourage more petrol to spill. For several seconds, though, he thought his strategy had
failed. A mass murderer was getting away and it was his fault. But the fuel needed time to run down the slope. It needed time to meet a flying spark.
A few more seconds passed. The truck was nearing a country lane. Soon, Raven would turn onto a proper road and put her foot down. Before she reached the junction, though, it happened. Nothing
dramatic at first. An unstable yellow glow appeared at the back of the vehicle. The front end of the Toyota had caught fire. Silently, the flames followed the flow of fuel to the tank. The trickle
down the ramp acted as a liquid fuse. Jordan held his breath.
There was a loud whoosh and Kate’s car exploded.
The Toyota jumped briefly into the air and then crashed down again onto the truck, spilling fuel and engulfing it in greedy flames. The wagon came to a blazing halt. The sudden inferno stripped
the exterior paint from both vehicles and quickly consumed the car’s seats, carpets and plastic interiors. Anything flammable was going up in smoke.
A second blast and a huge roaring column of flame told Jordan that the fire had sneaked into the truck’s own fuel supply. His finely tuned hearing also distinguished a terrible scream.
Jordan was not alone in watching the technician removing the skin – or what remained of it – from his right hand and beginning the diagnostics program. Someone else
was very keen to learn about the technology that lay underneath the damaged layer of silicone.
Jordan was distracted from the degloving and testing procedure. His mind was on other things. His mood was inconsistent. One moment, he was perky and pleased. The next, he was down. He’d
neutralized Short Circuit, but he’d lost a lot of innocent people on the way. “If only I’d got to Gatwick quicker...” Talking to Angel, he said, “I want to see a list
of everyone who died on that flight to Cyprus. Right now, they’re just a number. 214.”
Angel denied his request. “I’ll give you a list of the 304 people you saved, if you like. They’re real people as well, not just a big number.”
“They’ll name the dead online.”
Nodding, Angel replied, “I’m sure they will. But there won’t be a list of the ones on Flight AM5699 – who are living, thanks to you.”
“And to Eli.”
They both looked at Unit Red’s newest recruit. Eli Kennington wasn’t really interested in the people, living or dead. He was savouring the technology around him, like a kid with an
excess of birthday presents. Right now, he was fixated by the automated testing of Jordan’s robotic functions.
Eli Kennington had got to know too much about Jordan, Kate and Unit Red. Angel had little choice but to bring him in to replace Raven. His expertise with computers was not in doubt. His
dedication was not in doubt. His curiosity in Jordan’s technology could be satisfied safely within Unit Red. And he was a loner. He was ideal.
Deciding that he’d go through the victims’ names online, Jordan changed the subject. “What about Raven?”
“I’ve had words with the hospital,” Angel answered. “They’re certain she’s not going to make it. Too badly injured.”
Jordan was downhearted. Too many people had already died while he was on the case. 214 passengers on Flight TOM4762, Phil Lazenby, Victoria Truman and Justice Edward Jackson. Now, Raven would
make 218. Before Jordan had been assigned to the Short Circuit investigation, there had been other victims. Paige Ottaway, Carlton Reed and a lot of other air passengers in Ecuador. Jordan shook
his head and sighed. He couldn’t now summon up much sympathy for Raven. Besides, if she were to live, she’d be an embarrassment to Unit Red.
“You did well,” Angel told him. “Do you know how many she would’ve slaughtered if she’d set off a nuclear explosion in East Anglia?”
“No.”
“Thousands. And she was planning more. She was planning chaos. It could’ve run to millions. But, no, civilization remains intact. Society carries on.”
“Yeah.” But those 218 who’d lost their lives on his watch nagged at Jordan. Somehow, they outweighed the anonymous and untold lives he’d saved.
“The diagnostics say you’re fully fit for purpose,” the technician announced.
Jordan nodded. What was the purpose of a fourteen-year-old boy? To explore. To push the boundaries. To discover his talents. To work out what to do with his life. To have fun. Jordan had
bypassed most of that, of course. He’d sacrificed it. The purpose of his life was already clear. He protected the nation.