The Black Knight (29 page)

‘My kind?’

‘The unwashed masses,’ Wilms sneered.

‘We’re coming for you,’ Lopez said. ‘One at a time, we’re going to bring every last one of you down to
our
level and see how long you last, starting with you.’

‘Is that so?’ Wilms taunted as he looked about them. ‘And how are you going to do that, Nicola? You have no power of arrest over me, and even if you did I would be out within hours. I have friends so powerful the President of this country would piss his pants if they so much as looked at him.’

‘And where are they, right now?’ Lopez asked casually as she too looked about the street.

‘Go ahead,’ Wilms challenged her as he thrust his wrists in her direction and scowled. ‘Arrest me and see how long it is before I’m out and your life as you know it is over. I can have your face all over the media within hours, arrested for crimes you haven’t even heard of. You’ll spend the rest of your life rotting in some forgotten cell and nobody will give a damn about you.’

Lopez smiled but said nothing as she turned and walked away, Wilms shouting behind her.

‘You’re nothing, Lopez! You’re not even history because you’re not important enough!’

*

Wilms climbed into his vehicle and slammed the door shut, enveloped in a cloud of anger as he snapped at the drive.

‘JFK, right now! My jet is waiting.’

The driver slipped the vehicle into drive and pulled out into the flow of traffic as they headed north out of Manhattan. It was only moments before Wilms noted that they were headed in the wrong direction.

There was no need to scold the driver, no sense in arguing about which direction they were taking, for Wilms knew that he would not be taken to JFK in this car. He did not know how it had been done, but he did know that this vehicle could not be the one in which he had arrived at the hotel.

Wilms dove for the door handle but it was already locked. He reached for his pistol, concealed as it always was beneath his coat, but it was already too late for that as he saw the driver point a pistol over his shoulder at Wilms.

‘Don’t be a fool,’ the driver snapped. ‘Sit still.’

The driver pulled into the sidewalk again and the door opposite Wilms opened. A large form climbed into the vehicle and slammed the door shut, and Wilms’ guts contracted involuntarily as he looked into the eyes of Aaron Mitchell.

‘I did what you said,’ Wilms uttered in feeble defiance. ‘I gave you MJ-12!’

Mitchell reached out with one giant hand and retrieved the pistol from Wilms’ hand, then passed it to the driver who stashed the weapons before he drove back into the flow of traffic and headed north.

‘You’re making a mistake,’ Wilms uttered to Mitchell, masking the dread in his belly with a thin veil of defiance. ‘I’ll be free within hours.’

Aaron Mitchell sat with his hands folded in his lap as he considered his reply for what felt to Wilms to be hours. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and yet seemed as threatening as ever.

‘No, you will not,’ he rumbled. ‘You will tell me where Gordon LeMay has been taken.’

Wilms scowled.

‘You think that I know that? You think that even if I did I’d tell you? This is a game far too big for you to handle, Aaron. You’re a spent force, too weak to be of any value. MJ-12 will find you no matter what you do to me, and when they do they will crush you without mercy.’

Aaron smiled and looked across at Wilms.

‘So much for the idea of an MJ-12
family
,’ he replied.

‘You walked away from us.’

‘You betrayed me,’ Aaron countered as his voice dropped to a growl. ‘And now you’ll pay the price.’

Wilms scoffed and sat back in his seat.

‘Thumb screws and electricity?’ he snapped. ‘None of it will do you any good Aaron, I don’t know where LeMay is and I don’t give a damn. The fat ass had it coming and if I’d had my way we’d have liquidized him years ago.’

Aaron inclined his head.

‘I don’t doubt it, Victor,’ he said. ‘Of course, you do understand that this vehicle is not being driven by your normal driver and that all of the distortion devices have been deactivated, so in fact every word you’ve been saying to me and to Nicola Lopez has been recorded.’

Wilms’ features paled, outrage quivering like sheet lightning behind his eyes.

‘It doesn’t matter!’ he spat back. ‘You can’t touch me!’

‘No, we can’t,’ Aaron replied. ‘But we can touch Timothy Morris.’

Wilms stared blankly at Aaron. ‘Who? What the hell are you talking about?’

The vehicle was leaving the city, and with a sudden jolt of fear he spotted the signs heading out of the Upper East Side that the driver was following.

‘What are you doing?!’ he demanded.

Aaron smiled, his eyes as cold and black as oil as he leaned closer to Wilms and replied.

‘You’re coming back down to Earth with a thump,’ he growled, ‘and you’re going to spend the rest of your life where you should have been all along. With the scum of the Earth.’

Wilms looked at the signs passing them by, his blood running cold in his veins.

RIKER’S ISLAND

‘Timothy Morris,’ Aaron said, ‘sixty two years old, a convicted pedophile and murderer. You were arrested in the company of two pre-adolescent girls trafficked from Lithuania, both of whom were strapped to your bed in your apartment, the victims of repeated rapes. Your fourth arrest across several states, which means that you’re going down for life without parole, although it’ll take at least a year for your trial to be heard.’

Wilms’ stared in horror at Mitchell.

‘That’s insane! MJ-12 will not tolerate such a..,’

‘They’ll drop you just as they dropped me,’ Aaron growled back, ‘because like you said to Lopez, you’re not important enough. Besides, they won’t even know where you are. As we speak your vehicle is being driven to JFK and your jet will depart on time. You just won’t be on it, Victor. The jet will experience a fatal
accident
half way through its flight and you will be recorded by the Air Accident and Investigation Board as having died in the crash, the pilots exonerated of any responsibility for your demise.’

Wilms realized that Aaron had executed the perfect abduction and concocted a suitable fate for him, one where nobody would be searching for him and nobody would listen to his cause or his pleas that he had been set up.

Located on an island in the East River between Queens and the Bronx, Riker’s Island was a city of jails, with a population of fourteen thousand inmates, all awaiting trial. As a new arrival, Wilms would be housed in the New Admissions Cells where he would be kept in a sort of quarantine until the results of tests for tuberculosis and other diseases came back from dedicated labs. Then, he would be incarcerated into one of the most dangerous and feared facilities in the entire United States. Wilms swallowed thickly. Rikers was a ferocious jail packed with murderers and drug addicts, hardened killers bought up on the mean streets of New York City. As a supposedly convicted pedophile, he knew what would happen to him.

‘This will never work,’ Wilms spat at Aaron. ‘I’ll never talk.’

‘I don’t give a damn,’ Aaron replied. ‘We don’t need you either, Victor. All we needed was the faces of MJ-12, and the chance to lock you up for good while we start in on them. Your time is done. You’re not getting out of this, either your jail time or your prison sentence, and I look forward to you screaming out loud to a judge that you’re actually a member of a secret organisation called Majestic Twelve and that you’ll be sprung anytime soon. They’ll add an insanity plea, probably, which we’ll make sure doesn’t get through.’ Aaron smiled at Wilms. ‘You’re not the one with powerful friends any more, Victor. Tell me where LeMay is.’

Wilms’ face twisted in frustration and he cursed.

‘Larchmont.’

Mitchell nodded once, and then looked at the driver. ‘Continue to Rikers.’

‘I just gave you LeMay!’ Wilms screamed.

‘You just saved your own life,’ Mitchell said, ‘nothing more. Life’s going to get tough for you from now on, get over it.’

Wilms heard a scream erupt from his own throat as he lunged at Aaron, his fury and frustration unleashed in one terrible burst. The big man was too quick, however, and both Wilms’ arms were batted aside as one thick fist ploughed into his skull and Victor’s world dimmed to blackness and silence.

***

XXXVI

Antarctica

Ethan reached the main blast door of the base with Hannah alongside him and Del Toro behind them both, and together they slid the braces out from behind the door and opened it a crack. Ethan saw the docks extending away from them, the tunnel in the distance dimly illuminated by the fading light of the glow sticks scattered across the dock, and could just make out the shadowy forms of men hiding in the darkness within.

‘This is pretty much suicide,’ Del Toro whispered. ‘They’re gonna shoot you down rather than let you go.’

Ethan pushed ahead through the open door.

‘I’m hoping that their curiosity will get the better of them,’ he replied.

Hannah followed him reluctantly out onto the dock as Del Toro slammed the blast door shut behind them. Ethan noted that he heard only one brace being slid back into place on the far side of the door, Del Toro likely standing by in case they had to run to get back inside.

‘What the hell are you going to say to them?’ Hannah asked in an urgent whisper. ‘Pretty please can we have our friend back?’

‘I hadn’t got that far in my thinking yet,’ Ethan said as he walked at a steady pace, hoping to veil any sign of nerves as they closed in on the tunnel entrance.

‘Reassuring as always.’

Ethan kept walking until he reached a spot perhaps twenty yards from the tunnel mouth, where he came to a stop and waited patiently. A few moments later the deep voice boomed out across the cavern.

‘Ethan Warner, I figured you’d show up sooner or later.’

Ethan did not betray any surprise that this man knew his name. Given their repeated encounters with agents of Majestic Twelve, it in fact only confirmed that they were indeed facing MJ-12’s mercenaries and not the military of some other country hell bent on beating America to the Black Knight.

‘Like a bad penny,’ Ethan replied, peering into the darkness but unable to see much. ‘You know that you’re being paid to walk to your deaths up here, right? You know who your employers are, don’t you?’

‘Need to know basis,’ came the reply, ‘and we’re being paid well enough to have no problem in icing you and your team. Our government knows that we’re here.’

Ethan smiled.

‘That’s strange, because it’s our government that sent our team here too, so how come you’re firing on fellow Americans?’

‘Our mission is our priority! Surrender your positions and you’ll be allowed to leave peacefully!’

Ethan glanced at the corpse of the MJ-12 soldier lying nearby, a ragged bullet wound in his skull bleeding black blood onto the icy dock.

‘Like your comrade here?’ Ethan asked. ‘Nice of you to put him out of his misery.’

‘He was no longer an asset,’ boomed the reply.

Ethan grinned, keen to sow dissent among this man’s followers.

‘Neither is our friend Amy,’ he replied, ‘but we’re standing here hoping to get her back, not putting a bullet in her head for being an
inconvenience
.’

‘My men are behind me,’ came the reply, ‘and they’re not going to walk away from me, so you can quit the divide and conquer routine.’

‘You’re no military commander,’ Ethan said, ‘you’re a fake who hides behind his men, a coward.’

Ethan heard a rustle of movement and from the shadows loomed a huge man with a thick, black beard that was laced with ice. He peered at Ethan from the mouth of the tunnel, radiating hatred from his every pore.

‘It’s been a long time since anybody dared call me that.’

‘So it’s happened before then,’ Ethan replied. ‘Got us a pattern developing there, don’t we?’

The figure took a pace closer and Ethan spotted a glint of light coming from a pistol the big man held in his hands.

‘Surrender your positions or die,’ he rumbled.

‘Sorry, no can do,’ Ethan chortled in response, covering his fear of death with a bizarre carefree attitude that surprised even himself considering the dire circumstances. ‘Amy won’t make a damn of difference because our priorities match yours. Give her up and maybe we can work together on this little problem of ours.’

The big man’s eyes widened for a moment and then he chuckled, shook his head.

‘Here’s what I intend to do with them if you don’t surrender your positions.’

The big man whistled briefly, and two of his soldiers marched out with a thin, pale man clutched between them. The victim was half naked, shivering with cold, his skin an unhealthy shade of blue. Before Ethan could even speak, the two soldiers suddenly rushed forward and hurled the hostage into the freezing water of the dock.

Ethan instinctively moved to help as Amy cried out in horror, but he knew that to enter the water was suicide. The thin man cried out in agony as he surfaced and gasped for air, his lungs and limbs paralyzed with the cold and unable to swim to safety.

‘Get him out of there!’ Amy screamed at the man holding her.

‘Surrender your positions!’ he boomed back at Ethan.

Ethan was about to cry out to the SEALs to surrender, to save the poor man’s life as he thrashed weakly in the water, when suddenly the black water surged and something enormous loomed beneath the thin man. Ethan’s heart skipped a beat as the scientist suddenly screamed in fresh pain and was yanked under the surface.

The entire chamber fell abruptly silent as the water lapped near the edge of the dock. Ethan stared at the surface of the water as Hannah’s voice broke the silence.

‘What the hell was
that
?’

Ethan could not break his gaze from the dock as something rose up and broke the surface. He heard Amy gasp in horror and recoil away as a severed leg, its skin a pale blue, emerged to float upon the icy water amid a cloud of scarlet blood.

The big man holding Amy twisted her to face the black water.