2041 Sanctuary (Genesis) (14 page)

‘How many casualties?’ Samson said.

Riley glared at him.

‘You want vengeance?’ Samson moved closer to him. ‘You want me to apologise for putting a gun to your head?’

The memory of being moments from death flashed into Riley’s mind and his hands clenched in fury.

Jefferson pulled him away. ‘Perhaps a thank you for saving your life is what he wants.’

Samson laughed. ‘No, I think he wants to ram a knife through my eye, isn’t that so, Orton?’

An image of doing just that and more swamped Riley’s mind.

‘Sir,’ a commando said, approaching, ‘we thought you were dead.’

‘No such luck,’ Jefferson muttered under his breath.

‘Report,’ Samson said, and moved down from the pile of fallen rock.

‘Over one hundred and twenty fatalities and rising, and double that number have injuries that prevent them from continuing.’

Samson rubbed a hand over his stubble. ‘Morgan?

Riley tensed at the name.

‘No sign of her, Colonel,’ the soldier said, ‘or Darklight. It’s possible they escaped the fallout, but we won’t know for sure till we get down there.’

‘S.I.L.V.E.R.?’

‘We’ve seen no sign of them since …’

‘Since they turned traitor and ran,’ Samson told him.

‘Yes, sir.’

An officer arrived on the scene and handed Samson a canister of water.

The colonel drank deeply and then wiped his mouth on the back of his arm. ‘Send the order out; S.I.L.V.E.R. operatives are to be shot on sight. Finding the woman is priority. Get them ready, we move out in twenty.’

‘But, sir,’ the officer said, ‘we need to keep looking for survivors, and the wounded—’

‘Can fend for themselves until we get back,’ Samson said. ‘The search is over, ready the men –
now
.’

The commando saluted and disappeared back into the mayhem.

Samson gave Riley a contemptuous look and walked away without another word.

‘We should have left him buried,’ Jefferson said, watching him go.

Riley couldn’t have agreed more as his teammate patted him on the shoulder and left him to his own devices.

Like a moth to a flame, Riley’s thoughts returned to Sarah and he moved away to the newly created cliff edge and stared out into the darkness, where he hoped the woman everyone sought still lived. He removed a photo from his coveralls and gazed into the blue eyes of the person who’d stolen so much more than precious artefacts.
How can I help you, Sarah?
he thought.
Should I help you? Where are you going?
Do you even want my help?
He recalled how he’d felt when he’d seen her again from afar; elated, anxious, angry. Even when the gun had been put to his head, he’d kept her in his sights.
Is there a way to slow Samson down
, he wondered,
and S.I.L.V.E.R., too?
Shall I buy you time, Sarah, is that what you need?

The sound of someone approaching failed to wrest Riley from his deliberations and they stopped by his side, the loose rock crunching underfoot. ‘She’s pretty,’ said a familiar voice.

Riley looked round to see SED facility commander Dresden Locke staring out into the abyss beyond.

The veteran explorer sighed. ‘Some men do stupid things for pretty.’

‘And some men are just stupid,’ Riley said.

Locke laughed. ‘You’re not wrong. But pretty isn’t always beautiful, pretty can be twisted, mean and rotten to the core.’

‘You think Sarah has a black heart?’

‘No, but some women are just … conflicted. And you have to ask the question.’

‘Which is?’

‘Is she worth it?’ Locke turned to face him. ‘Is she worth your life, your soul?’

Riley tucked the photo back into a pocket. ‘The decision’s out of my hands, she saw to that.’

‘And yet you can’t let her go.’

Riley didn’t know what to say. He’d never been in such a position before, torn between equal forces. He stared down at his hands, his eyes drifting out of focus.

‘He won’t stop,’ Locke said. ‘Samson, he won’t stop until he has her.’

‘I know.’

‘And he won’t care if she, or any one of us, dies in his quest to get his hands on those artefacts.’

‘No, he won’t.’

‘Then if we want to stay alive, and if you want to make sure she stays alive, we need to make sure we find her first.’

Riley looked up. ‘We?’

Locke pointed and Riley turned round to see his twenty strong Deep Reach team, Alpha Six, geared up and ready for the off. At their head Jefferson held up his climbing equipment and grinned.

Riley’s mind jumped into overdrive. ‘They’ll be right on our heels.’

Locke nodded.

‘And if they catch up to us …’ Riley said.

‘They’ll be pissed.’

Jefferson approached. ‘We’ll need to move fast.’

‘And for that …’ Locke said.

Riley attached his kit. ‘We need the best explorers in Sanctuary.’

The facility commander lowered his visor and smiled. ‘It’s time to show these yahoos how it’s really done.’

Chapter Nineteen

Malcolm Joiner stood at the sweeping window of the SED’s command suite, an office usually frequented by the facility’s commander, Dresden Locke. The GMRC Intelligence Director held his hands clasped loosely at the small of his back as he gazed down to the shuttle bay below, which continued to bustle with frenzied activity. A deep rumbling announced the arrival of another air-shuttle, the discordant sound sending vibrations through the floor at his feet. Moments later the craft hove into view, cresting the lip of the giant oval shaft that disappeared into the depths beneath.

Progress in the field had gone well; preliminary reports made by Colonel Samson’s force had been beyond expectations, but still a deep sense of unease had settled upon Joiner as the days and hours passed. The other teams who’d been following the longer route to the temple had reported they’d found Sarah Morgan’s trail, but it was as they’d feared, they were still many days behind.

Since his confrontation with Committee member Selene Dubois, he’d been expecting to hear word from an irate Samson on his command being usurped by Ophion and S.I.L.V.E.R., but the communication had never come. He was told later that the cabling connecting the SED substation to the colonel’s transmission hub must have been severed. He allowed himself a small smile. There were a number of possibilities to account for the cessation of signals from the lead expedition; however, it wouldn’t surprise him if Samson had taken measures to maintain command.

The desktop intercom buzzed as an incoming video message from Sanctuary’s GMRC Command Complex appeared on the wall display. It was Grant Debden, his primary aide.

Is he in my office?
Joiner thought, glimpsing a stunning coastal resort in the background behind Debden which could have only come from a 3D wallscreen.

Joiner frowned at his subordinate’s transgression and touched the screen to accept the call. ‘Yes?’

‘Sir,’ Debden said, his eyes focusing on his director, ‘Ms. Dubois has requested an audience with you in Tower Central.’

Joiner suppressed a grimace. ‘Did she say what it was about?’

‘Her office informed me a board of evaluation had been convened. They said if you’re to attend it will commence in five hours’ time.’

‘A board of evaluation,’ – Joiner felt his chest tighten – ‘you’re positive that’s what they said?’

‘Yes, sir, although I’m not sure what it’s about. Your review of directorate nominees isn’t due for another month and I have no other such instances in your diary.’

Joiner knew exactly what it meant. The Committee had made his failures a priority. He’d been summoned for judgement.
If you’re to attend
, he thought with bitter resentment,
they say it as if I can refuse
. If the Committee called, you answered.

‘Shall I confirm your participation?’ Debden said.

‘Yes. Remind me when I need to leave.’

‘Of course, sir, I’ll arrange transport.’

Joiner cut the transmission and sat down in his chair wondering what he could do to make things right with the Committee.
Or is it as I feared
, he wondered,
have they purposefully manoeuvred me into an untenable position?
It was the not knowing that drove him to distraction, and if there was one thing Joiner hated, it was being kept in the dark.

His thoughts strayed to Professor Steiner. So far the ex-Director General had evaded the efforts of the Committee to locate him. Well, as far as Joiner knew, he had. He’d put his feelers out and found that the Pacific fleet had been tasked with his retrieval.
Or should that be assassination?
As soon as they find him he’ll be gunned down on sight, or interrogated and then killed when all information has been extracted on the hacker’s whereabouts.

B.I.C. – the man was relentless in his pursuit of the truth.
It was something Joiner could relate to, but that’s as far as his empathy extended. B.I.C.’s activities had been the cause of great consternation in the intelligence community for as long as he could remember. The man was a censor’s worst nightmare, which meant he was Joiner’s worst nightmare
. The Committee is right; the two of them together pose the greatest of threats to their plans. But would Steiner really jeopardise his life’s work, the entire human race, to gain some sense of justice or recompense for past grievances?
Joiner put himself in his position.
No
,
there is no way the professor would aid the hacker
, he decided,
no way in hell
.

Joiner’s mind returned to the Committee.
How will they react? I’m one of their most important assets, they can’t operate without me, at least not to the extent they require. Or have I, like Steiner, reached the end of my usefulness? Has my sell by date expired? If it has, I need to adapt to the changing landscape of power and that means one of three things: redefining my use to the Committee, ascending to the Committee, or perhaps the most difficult of all, destroying the Committee. How does one go about killing a hidden, multi-headed beast that operates in all corners of the globe?

A knock on the door interrupted his musings.
Perhaps I’m just about to find out
, he thought, his anticipation rising.

‘Yes?’ he said.

The familiar figure of Agent Myers entered the SED’s command suite. The clean-cut CIA operative looked drawn, almost haggard, as though he’d aged ten years since their last encounter.

‘How was the surface?’ Joiner said.

‘Cold and dark.’

‘You’re up to speed on events?’

‘Debden debriefed me.’

‘Good. I take it you have news?’

Myers looked around the room with anxious eyes. ‘Is this office secure?’

Joiner nodded. ‘I had a team do a full work up. Nothing said goes beyond these walls.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ Myers said, ‘I’ve found out many things … a great many disturbing things.’

♦

Joiner pressed a button on the desk and the walls and windows to the SED office turned opaque. He lent forward and interlaced his fingers. Myers was not one to make overblown statements and Joiner all but twitched in lust for the knowledge that was about to be disclosed.

He eyed his agent over the tops of his glasses, savouring the expectation like a fine wine. More moments passed before he succumbed to his craving. ‘Proceed,’ he said with a flick of a finger.

Myers remained standing and dropped a thick file on the table with a thump. Flopping it open, he slid out some grainy photographs.

‘These were taken from a Japanese spy satellite prior to the destruction of all four space stations. They show two Sabre transportation ships leaving for Earth moments before the explosion. Both craft are GMRC.’

‘Then it’s as we thought,’ Joiner said.

Myers didn’t reply, instead he placed a data device on the desk’s induction panel and video footage appeared on the wallscreen. ‘This stream was recorded by another satellite operated by the Russian military.’

Joiner watched the four space stations slowly rotating through the vacuum of space before a cluster of explosions lit up the ISS. His eyes widened as a chain reaction ripped apart the massive crafts in a choreography of perfect destruction.

After the carnage had ended, Myers paused the image. ‘Since this catastrophe happened you’ll know that the chaos within the GMRC’s Space Programme, NASA and the other civilian space agencies is through the roof. Questions, accusations and conspiracy theories are spreading like wildfire. Multiple investigations have been launched, morale is rock bottom, and international tensions are strained to breaking point.’

Joiner knew very well about the fallout from the disaster. The Directorate had called an emergency meeting, which he’d attended by video link. What he wanted to know were the real whys and wherefores, not the well-rehearsed cover up interwoven with truth and mayhem.

Myers gestured at the screen. ‘When I saw this feed, I made it my priority to find out who was on those two GMRC ships. Who knew what was to come? I managed to acquire the records from an internal contractor who logs the manifests for GMRC secure operations.

‘A number of names gave me cause for concern.’ Myers moved to the display and accessed a file with a tap of a finger, and a cluster of staff profiles appeared. ‘These high ranking officials all have positions within the GMRC’s Space Programme. On further investigation each and every one of these people has worked in close partnership with one man – a select member of the GMRC Directorate and your close associate.’

‘Dagmar Sørensen,’ Joiner said.

Myers nodded and touched the screen to bring up the profile of the GMRC’s sallow-faced Research and Development Director. He then discarded all the other profiles except one, which he expanded to twice the size. ‘Ms Sylvia Lindegaard,’ Myers said, ‘was the lead GMRC delegate assigned to the United States Space Station, USSS Archimedes. As far as I can tell, she was responsible for all GMRC integration on Archimedes and liaised extensively with NASA, the U.S. military and the GMRC’S R&D Division.’