2041 Sanctuary (Genesis) (47 page)

So far the Committee remained interested in, but strangely unconcerned about, the whole affair. At first Joiner had wondered if they’d had a hand in the attack on his motorcade, a double bluff worthy of the name. But as much as he wanted to find an answer, he knew that possibility was slim to none. He’d decided, however, that there was no way they’d compromise their own position of superiority, unless, of course, it was someone working against the Committee from within.

A growing sense of frustration forced a noise of discontent from Joiner’s lips and one of the soldiers glanced in his direction before resuming their vigil.

The sound from the helicopter’s giant blades continued to pulse through the cabin and the flying procession veered left past the Egyptian-inspired obelisk that was the Washington Monument and away from The White House beyond it. Turning south, they sank lower to skim across the waters of the Washington Channel, the reflection of the black aircraft rippling on the surface before they regained altitude as they neared their destination.

Joiner pressed a button on his armrest and a transparent screen extended down from the ceiling. A holographic computer display blazed to life and a rotating image appeared depicting a man in Special Forces armour. Adjoining this 3D creation was a long and detailed service record that spooled down the screen behind. Above the text were the words:

COLONEL SAMSON

United States Army

Special Forces Subterranean Detachment

Brigade Commander

And across the moving image were three large, red letters:

M.I.A.

Joiner accessed the file and selected a field in the data’s admin list. A tick appeared in the relevant box and two new words blinked into existence:

Presumed Dead

Joiner hit a button on his keyboard and sealed the file into the GMRC archive.

That Samson had not returned from his mission was a welcome relief. That he’d failed in his duty was not. When the expeditions had returned to base some three weeks after they’d left, Joiner had received the news immediately from his agents stationed at the SED. Neither the pendant nor the mysterious orb had been retrieved. As for Sarah Morgan herself, she and her friends had fallen victim to a devastating blast that had destroyed what was said to be an archaeological wonder of the highest order. Joiner had seen Ophion’s subsequent report, such as it was. Large swathes had been redacted by the Committee’s overly exuberant administrator – whoever that might be. So what was the result of the massively expensive exercise? The mission had failed in its entirety – although one good thing had come of it: Samson’s demise. The colonel’s knowledge of the pendant, the Anakim, Sanctuary itself and the asteroids was beyond unacceptable. In the hands of a rational mind the information was bad enough, but in the hands of a lunatic, who knew what chaos could be caused.

But with one problem solved another emerged. And with the pendant gone, so had the Committees’ chances of furthering their mastery of Anakim technology. Joiner’s summons to Tower Central had been swift and his dressing down complete. He had, of course, fought his corner with vigour. He had no love for the people who’d implanted the device in his head. And yet despite the failure, his position within the organisation’s secret ranks served one useful purpose, it kept him alive. And as Selene Dubois had so eloquently put it, such a privilege was an opportunity ripe for redemption.

The memory of their meeting reminded Joiner of his surprise when he’d learnt that Richard Goodwin and his Darklight mercenaries were alive and well, scratching out an existence in the hidden depths. He’d presumed, like many others, that the ousted director of Steadfast and his merry band had long since succumbed to the unforgiving landscape that was Sanctuary Proper. How they’d survived for so long was a mystery, but whatever the method, they continued to pose a threat to Joiner, the Committee and the USSB itself. They would, at some point, have to be dealt with. If nothing else, the Committee was keen to investigate the massive underground city that Goodwin now called home. And whatever Joiner might have been told, or not as the case may be, he knew that whatever had caused Sanctuary’s ceiling to activate most likely originated from that location. And if he was to determine the true source, as the Committee desired, he would at some point need to find out more, much more.

Inevitably, Joiner’s thoughts returned to the most pressing matter that required his attention. If he was to regain control of his life he needed help, and that meant he needed someone he could rely on and trust. It had been some time before he’d even considered asking the question that needed to be asked, but when it had come and the answer had been yes, then he knew what he had to do. Most would have not even considered the course of action he was about to undertake. They would say when your bridges were burnt, that was it, there was no going back, but Joiner knew what it took to convince a person even when everything was stacked against him. And this time was no different … at least, that was his hope.

A red light flashed on a communication headset that hung from the ceiling and Joiner powered off the computer and placed one of the headphones to his ear.

‘Sir, we’ve reached our destination,’ said the pilot.

‘And you’re telling me this, why?’ Joiner said, irritated. ‘Set us down.’

‘That’s the problem, sir, there seems to be a game in progress.’

Joiner peered out of his window to see a crowded stadium below and forty thousand pairs of eyes staring up at the helicopters that now circled the skies above. Nationals Park baseball stadium was home to a Major League Baseball franchise, the Washington Nationals. Joiner hadn’t considered the facility might have been in use. Why would he? He went where he wanted and did what he liked.

The pitcher and the rest of the players stared up at the intrusion; many had the audacity to wave them away and a couple produced obscene gestures, one of them being the coach.

Joiner gave a sniff of disinterest and put the microphone back to his mouth. ‘They’ll move.’

‘Sir?’

‘You heard me, pilot.’ Joiner hung the headset back on its hook and turned to his subordinate. ‘Lock it down.’

The man nodded and gave the order to jam all communications. A second later all local transmissions failed and worldwide TV audiences suddenly experienced a ubiquitous on-screen message that read: ‘No signal.’

The roar of the helicopter’s jet engines increased and the baseball players scattered for cover, much to Joiner’s satisfaction.

His helicopter landed on the field soon after, with five more craft landing in quick succession.

Joiner’s door slid open and he stepped out of his GMRC transport and down onto the specially cultivated grass of the pitch.

Armed GMRC soldiers fanned out before him while the U.S. Army gunships continued to patrol the airspace above.

As the noise from his landed aircraft died down, Joiner could hear catcalls and boos ringing out around the stadium.
Like I care
, he thought and flipped down his sunshades,
these idiots will all be ash and bone within the year
. He strode forward with his armed escort as protection and made his way up to the stands, where his men cleared a way through those gathered with brutal efficiency. The crowd turned ugly, bottles were thrown, and Joiner ducked as one whistled past his head.

Joiner gestured to his closest agent. ‘Show these peasants some manners.’

The operative gave a nod, cocked his weapon and fired a shot into the air. More gunshots rang out as Joiner’s soldiers sent people scrambling back in panic.

Joiner surveyed the scene and saw that his heavy-handed tactics had also served to isolate the man he sought. He moved towards the lone person sitting still in a sea of rapidly emptying seats.

A moment later Joiner eased himself down onto one of the chairs and sat staring out at his helicopters, which adorned the field of play.

The man next to him stayed silent and Joiner decided to speak first.

‘You’re probably asking yourself why I’m here.’

There was no response.

‘I’m putting together a special taskforce,’ Joiner said, undeterred. ‘I need you to lead it. It’ll mean longer hours; triple your previous pay and a slew of benefits you wouldn’t believe.’

Silence ensued and both men remained looking straight ahead as the uncomfortable atmosphere increased.

‘We both know retirement isn’t for men like us,’ Joiner said, ‘we live to work, to make things happen, to make a difference.’ He gestured at the milling baseball fans. ‘We aren’t built to live amongst the herd, to play by the rules. Come back into the fold and your life will mean something again.’ Joiner glanced left. ‘Accept my offer and I guarantee you’ll be shaping not just the future of our country, but of the whole world.’

The man crossed his arms and sat stony-faced.

‘What do you say?’ Joiner said.

‘I asked for one thing,’ Agent Myers said, ‘that I be allowed to live on the surface in peace before relocating to New York.’ He turned to face Joiner. ‘And you couldn’t even give me that, could you?’

‘You’re bitter,’ Joiner said. ‘I understand.’

‘Do you? I give you the best years of my career and unflinching loyalty and you repay me with what? A bullet to the gut.’

‘I won’t apologise for my actions,’ Joiner said.

Myers gave a snort of disbelief.

‘But – BUT,’ Joiner said, ‘I will admit to misreading the situation. Debden was the leak.’ Joiner removed his glasses. ‘I should have seen it, the man was always too keen. Did you notice?’

Unimpressed, Myers didn’t answer and Joiner allowed the agent his moment of control.

‘And that’s it?’ Myers said, when Joiner failed to continue. ‘That’s your pitch? That’s what I get, no apology and a pay rise?’ He gave a shake of his head. ‘You’ve got some nerve.’

Joiner motioned to one of his armoured agents. ‘Nerve has nothing to do it with it,’ he said, accepting a steel briefcase. ‘I need you; it’s as simple as that.’

‘And you thought I’d just come running?’ Myers said. ‘When I got your message that you wanted me back on duty, I had to know, what could possess a man to ask such a question of someone he’d tried to kill?’

‘I didn’t try to kill you, I meant to wound. My aim was off. But I had to know if you were the leak and I had to force Stevens into fessing up. It was my only option.’

‘Your only option?’

‘Look,’ Joiner said, keeping up the pretence, ‘I realise I was wrong, but you know as well as I there are more pressing matters than your grudge. But if you need me to apologise, I do so, unreservedly.’

Myers expression remained fixed in a glowering mask of distrust.

Joiner gestured at the grey-clad intelligence operatives that patrolled the area. ‘Look around you,’ he said, ‘armoured agents inside our own borders. I take it you noticed?’

Myers glanced at the menacing figures. ‘How could I not?’

‘Then you should know that even back at Sanctuary, the securest facility on the planet, we have factions arrayed against us, factions that should not exist.’

‘I heard about the abduction.’

‘Then you will know that the game has changed. All bets are off. The world is changing, old alliances are collapsing and new ones rise. If the GMRC and our country is to survive we must adapt, we must react. The information you uncovered about the secret organisations operating inside the GMRC was invaluable, but what I didn’t tell you at the time was that I’ve been trying to infiltrate one of these organisations for decades.’

Myers looked at him and Joiner refrained from smiling.
I’m getting to him
. He popped open the catches on his briefcase and withdrew a printed image of an X-ray and held it out to Myers.

‘Look at it,’ Joiner said.

Myers flicked his eyes in its direction.

‘Do you see the device,’ – Joiner pointed to a spot on the photo – ‘next to the brainstem?’

‘Who is it, another mark for termination?’

‘The X-ray is mine.’

Myers face registered a look of shock and he couldn’t stop himself from taking the image to inspect further.

‘Do you see now why I’m here? I’ve been compromised. My position at the GMRC is under threat, and without me our government will have even less influence over global affairs than it already does.’

Myers continued to study the X-ray. ‘Can it be removed?’

‘Without damage? Unlikely; Sørensen was behind the procedure.’

‘Then it’s not just your tenure at the GMRC that’s at stake,’ – Myers passed the image back to him – ‘but your position as U.S. Intelligence Director as well.’

‘And that’s why I’m here. I can’t do this alone. I need someone to mask my movements, to outthink those that seek to control me, to second-guess my decisions and to create a wall behind which I can function.’ Joiner put the photo back into the case. ‘I need to get this thing out of me, or at the very least disable or disrupt its activation, and I can’t do that when everything is in upheaval, nor while the division is haemorrhaging information like a sieve. I need to clean house, and clean it good.’

‘Then I wish you luck,’ – Myers got to his feet – ‘because you’re going to need it.’

‘You still need convincing,’ Joiner said, also standing, ‘after everything I’ve told you?’

‘That you’re surprised by that shows how little you know me.’

Myers walked away and Joiner saw his chance disappearing.

‘Wait!’ Joiner felt himself rooted to the spot.
I never follow, I always lead!
All his experience told him to stand his ground, to uphold his position of authority, but he knew if he did so now, Myers was lost and therefore so was he.

Myers stopped and looked back, his expression as guarded as ever.

Joiner continued to feel the tension of resistance before a glimpse of a disparate future made the decision for him. With his ego diverted, Joiner closed the gap between them. ‘What if I tell you without your help I’ll be unable to continue my duties? My next independent review is overdue, and if I’m removed from office no one will be able to stop what’s to come.’