Hurt World One and the Zombie Rats (13 page)

The receptionist inputted his features into
the hotel computer, which had direct access to the System: it meant
that within twenty seconds Betz’s identity had been confirmed and
his whole life, including every image captured by surveillance
camera and every word recorded by mike, from his first crying at
birth to any one of the thousands of electronic ears that might
have picked up a stray word on his journey to the hotel. With his
identity verified, the receptionist pressed a red button at his
desk. ‘The elevator will take you to your floor, sir.’

The Ambassador gave her a half glance. ‘Is it
safe?’

‘All the glass in our hotel is ordinance
proof,’ the receptionist reassured.

The Ambassador rode the elevator to the
twentieth floor and Spiros Pardos was there to greet him.

‘Good evening, Ambassador,’ said Pardos. ‘We
appreciate your coming at such short notice.’

‘I trust the matter is urgent,’ the
Ambassador snapped.

‘Yes, it is. Now if you’ll kindly follow me.’
Pardos led him down the long corridor. The Ambassador, however,
moved at his own pace, for he wanted it to be known he could be
beckoned but not herded.

They entered the room at the end of the
corridor and Renaissance was waiting. She was standing by a
holographic image emanating from the table screen in the centre of
the room. She waved a hand through the snow covered mountains being
projected to the height of her shoulders.

‘Ambassador Betz, do you find the scene
familiar?’ she queried.

‘Yes, indeed,’ replied Betz, moving forward
from Pardos to the corner of the table. ‘Par Monten. Named after a
long dead poet. Are we here to plan my next skiing holiday?’

‘There might be an opportunity for some
winter sports. But not a holiday. The name of the game is
apprehending a world class criminal.’

‘That’s why I seek you out at the cocktail
parties in Washington. When you talk weather, you talk about super
hurricanes. When you talk politics, you talk genocide. And when you
talk recreational activities, it comes down to hunting killers. So,
who are we talking about now? Your message said it was someone in
the FBI top thirty most wanted and it’s had me guessing all the way
here.’

Renaissance looked intently to the hologram.
‘Mas, the poacher. She is on that mountain.’

‘What is a poacher doing on the beautiful
slopes of Switzerland?’

‘There is a Hurt World operation that has
enlisted the help of the Leanov Veterinarian Clinic. Mas is in
pursuit of our technician. Leanov has reported gunfire. This is
happening in real time.’

‘Shots fired? Should you have let it get this
far?’

‘This is just starting. If we lead you to
Mas, we will need continued access to the prisoner.’

‘After the dirty work is done?’

‘The Alpine Special Forces are the only
people you have with an insurance coverage high enough to go after
someone like her. Your regular troops should be given a Too
Dangerous to Arrest directive. It is going to be dirty work, but
we’ll help even up the contest by taking out her drone.’

The Ambassador frowned. ‘She’s got a
drone?’

‘Don’t be so surprised, Ambassador. Surely
you should know some of the world’s most dangerous criminals have
drones following wherever they go. Rumour has it this one is even
armed with nuclear missiles.’ She stepped around the table. ‘Let’s
go talk with Rojas Hose. He’s my best analyst.’

They went into the adjoining bathroom where a
young man was sitting in an empty spa with a computer tablet on his
lap.

‘Ambassador, I’d like you to meet Rojas. He’s
been tasked with locating Mas’s drone.’

‘A man working in a bath,’ said Hertz,
looking down on him disapprovingly. ‘Should I be impressed?’

‘You should see it is as a good sign,’
replied Renaissance. ‘It means he’s expert enough that I leave him
alone to his little quirks.’

‘Thank you,’ said Rojas, touching his face
where his fledgling moustache was taking shape.

‘What is the state of play on the
mountain?’

‘It seems Kaptu Z has just shot Mas’s pet
bird.’

Renaissance frowned bewildered. ‘What?’

‘But that’s not really the important part. A
neutron particle discharge blacked out all the drones in a thirty
kilometre range of the Leanov Clinic. The rebooting emits distinct
frequencies which can be analysed to discern one sort of drone from
another. Assuming Mas has a militarised model, it can now be
narrowed down to one of four. It’s fantastic because before that I
thought we were going to have to blow up ten.’

‘Blow up ten drones?’ said Betz
incredulously.

‘Switzerland can afford it,’ said
Renaissance. ‘You have super insurance. And besides, you heard what
he said, we’re only going to blow up four.’

‘They don’t belong to Switzerland anyway,’
added Rojas.

‘How would you know?’ said Betz. ‘That
information would only be contained in classified databases.’

‘That’s where I’m looking.’

Betz shook his head and glanced around the
luxurious bathroom. ‘You’re waging war from a bridal suite
bathtub.’

‘A war that has come to Switzerland,’ snapped
Renaissance. ‘Mas has been unsighted for the past two years and now
here she is on your mountain. Cooperate and you’ll have the credit
for capturing her. And there will be a lot of people wanting to
know about it. Mount Par will be put on the map by all the news
reports. That will translate to tourist visits. It means an
injection of capital before the last of the snow has melted.’

‘It means even a mountain the size of Mount
Par is liable to get flattened in the arrest,’ Betz countered. ‘But
I see two reasons to make the arrest. The first is the opportunity
to clear the skies above Switzerland of Mas’s weaponry. The second
is the opportunity to clear the ground of Mas herself.’

‘Thank you, Ambassador,’ said Renaissance.
She looked quickly to Rojas. ‘Fire when ready.’

*

Mas’s heart was pounding, her limbs within
the body suit warm and limber. Her eyes were fixed on the body of
Zelda at rest in a patch of bloody snow. She was trembling with
anger. She cut the weapons capsule from the eagle’s foot. Drone
images returning to her tech goggles informed her of Kaptu’s
progress down the mountain. She fired the capsule’s entire twenty
dart-missiles that way. As the explosions ripped through the
valley, the ground began to shake and the real weapon was
unleashed: an avalanche.

Mas took off her goggles to view the
spectacle. It occurred to her, however, that the massive wall of
snow might have been unleashed her way as well. She turned sharply
to look behind her and that was when she noticed the four distant
vapour trails against the pale blue sky. They were moving fast and
spreading out from different directions. They ended with explosions
and were so high that it took a long moment for the booms of
thunder to follow. Mas swore under her breath and put her goggles
to her eyes to see that they were blank again. This time she knew
it was going to be permanent. The Hurt World technician had been
able to knock out her drone for a couple of minutes, but his backup
could obviously do things on a much bigger scale. With a sense of
foreboding she knew well they would now be coming for her.

*

The snowmobile’s nuclear fusion engine could
send it up almost vertical mountain faces like they were just bumps
in the road. And that was despite the weight of its weapons and
mountain rescue equipment. On its flexi-steel caterpillar tracks
the snowmobile was tearing through the avalanche ravaged forest,
the recently felled trees being cleared by the powerful grader out
front. The two occupants of the snowmobile were brother and sister
and were wearing the dark blue uniforms of the Alpine Special
Forces. They had the same blonde hair and light blue eyes. The
sister was at the steering wheel and she was making towards the man
whose infrared image was on her console screen. He was under a
metre of snow.

‘Activate the retrieval arm,’ she instructed
her brother.

‘Sure, sis,’ he replied. The retrieval arm
went straight to work, unfolding from its roof mount and plunging
into the soft, freshly settled snow. Kaptu Z was the man being
pulled from his cold, white tomb. He was conscious and remained
calm as the arm did its work. Snow fell away in clumps and he shook
out his hair. He was lowered through a hatch into the back of the
snowmobile.

The female driver looked back at him.
‘Welcome aboard. I’m Giselle and this is my brother Mischa. Are you
injured?’

‘I’m ok,’ replied Kaptu, carefully removing
his backpack and inspecting Blast’s vital signs on the monitor
panel. ‘We both are.’

Giselle again had the snowmobile screaming
across the mountain. ‘Great, but this isn’t a rescue mission. We
would have left you to one of the Search and Rescue crews if it
was.’

Kaptu looked over the two siblings, noting
that they were both heavily armed. ‘So why did you bother?’

‘We are going after Mas and if anything
happens to us, it will be up to you and your dog to avenge us,’
said Mischa fastening armour plating to his chest. ‘We’ll take you
to the edge of town. From there it’s a ten minute walk to the train
station. It will be a good way to warm up. Report to Central Police
Station in Zurich. They’ll be expecting you.’

‘Alright.’

‘Sorry we can’t have some of our people take
you. We can’t spare anyone.’ With the plate fastened, he set about
recharging an laser-acid pistol. ‘We don’t take kindly to people
who trigger avalanches in these parts. No better than mass
murderers. So we have the whole mountain in lock down.’

‘Before we drop you off,’ said Giselle in the
midst of her fast driving, ‘you can tell us some more about this
poacher.’

‘There is not much to say. She had an eagle
with a weapons system attached to its talons. I shot it from the
sky. And she had a weaponised stealth drone hovering above the
earth. Base has just blown that up. So, on the one hand, the
poacher is more vulnerable than ever. But, on the other hand,
you’ll find she’s in quite a nasty mood.’

Two black choppers roared by close overhead
on the way up the mountain. ‘They’re Search and Rescue,’ said
Mischa. ‘In these parts, we’re very good at finding people. Not so
good at Search and Destroy.’

‘I’ll come along for the ride,’ said Kaptu.
‘That’s going to warm me up quicker than catching a train.’

‘You can try hitchhiking up the mountains,
‘cause you ain’t coming with us,’ snapped Giselle. ‘Your job is to
be a dog handler. Or a dog bodyguard.’ She slammed on the brakes,
bringing the snowmobile to a stop just above the town. ‘You can see
the train station from here, but we’ll take you all the way to the
platform if you think you’re going to struggle.’

Kaptu stepped out with the backpack. ‘I’ll
manage.’

The snowmobile sped off in a vertical ascent,
leaving him with more snow to shake out of his hair. He put on the
backpack and turned his attention to the town. Nestled at the
bottom of the valley with a snow fed river running through its
heart, it was a hive of activity. Pockets of floodlights indicated
where the police roadblocks had been set up. The centrally located
train station was one of the most concentrated. Kaptu started
walking that way. On his wrist computer, he saw that he had ten
minutes to catch the express to Paris. It was his quickest way out
of Par, was worth hurrying for.

*

Mas had reached her snowmobile with the
Search and Rescue helicopter stalking her overhead. She cracked off
a few shots of small arms fire to keep it at a distance. But she
held back her heavier ordinance for when the helicopter fired back
or for when its reinforcements arrived. The manner in which the
helicopter hastily pulled away suggested it was merely a spotter,
reporting her location for the people that had shot her eagle and
shot down her drone. A small bullet and some sophisticated
missiles. Mas sensed a trap closing. She took from the snowmobile
the weapons she would need. The snowmobile itself would be of no
use to her, not with the kind of missiles her enemies had at their
disposal. So, it was going to be a hard, messy ground fight. She
sprayed herself in DNA scrambler fluid and gulped half a litre of
energy drink. She sensed more than saw the arrival of the Alpine
Special Forces, diving away an instant before the missile
struck.

She slid down the bank of hard snow at speed,
leaving behind her obliterated snowmobile. She flipped onto her
back and fired. The helicopter, emboldened by the arrival of the
Alpine Special Forces, was creeping closer and its tail was
promptly shot off. Mas rolled back onto her stomach and she flew
headfirst off the mountain. Tracer bullets hissed by around her and
it wasn’t until she reached terminal velocity that she began to put
distance between them and her. She looked down on the valley floor
and the town within. As the superheated helium bubbles inside her
bodysuit began to activate and slow her descent, she instructed her
tech goggles to list the fastest vehicles in the vicinity. The list
came on screen immediately. There were sports cars, jet bikes and
disposable planes. But the armoured trucks were what caught her
attention, especially as they came with cannons attached. The
location given was the Alpine Special Forces base. So that’s where
she would go.

*

Giselle and Mischa rushed out of their
snowmobile, propping themselves against a rocky outcrop. They
watched the descending Mas become nothing more than a dark spec
against Par River.

‘Is she slowing?’ Mischa murmured. ‘It’s hard
to tell from here.’

‘If she had flown off the mountain without
any sort of brake, I think she would have had more pressing
concerns than blowing up our helicopter.’