Fast (16 page)

            The boy whispered something too quietly for Harrison to hear. Harrison wasn’t sure the boy even spoke English.

            He squatted beside the boy, trying to seem friendly and reassuring. ‘Sorry? What did you say?’

            The boy’s voice quavered slightly louder. ‘What are they?’

            ‘Oh, right,’ realized Harrison. ‘I’m not sure what they are.’

            The boy looked about eight or nine years old. His straight brown hair was cropped short over large ears. He was thin, all elbows and knees. He stared at Harrison’s assault rifle. ‘Are you going to shoot them if they come?’

            ‘Yes.’

            ‘All of them?’

            ‘Every single one.’

            ‘Do you have enough bullets?’

            Harrison smiled at the question. To a kid, that was all that mattered – just having enough bullets. Like the creatures would approach single file and wait for their chance to get shot. Harrison tried to look tough. ‘Plenty of bullets.’ He tapped the spare ammunition magazines on his body armor.

            The kid nodded wisely. ‘That’s good.’

            Harrison wondered about the kid’s parents.

‘What’s your name?’

            ‘David.’

            ‘David what?’

            ‘David Sharp.’

            Harrison tried to remember the name ‘Sharp’ from the list Dana had provided of the missing and injured. The name sounded familiar.

            ‘What are your parents’ names?’

            ‘My mom works here. Her name’s Vanessa.’

            Harrison frowned. She was definitely on the list. Dana had made special mention of Vanessa Sharp being missing. The list of missing and wounded showed an obvious pattern. Mostly staff from the lower engineering and research levels hadn’t reached the evacuation tunnel. Not a single person had escaped the basement level alive. David’s mother probably worked on the lower levels.

            He noticed the boy was holding something. A bag of marbles. In all the terror, the boy had saved his precious marbles. His grip squeezed white-hot around the brown vinyl marble bag.

            Harrison nodded to the marbles. ‘You got some good ones in there, huh?’

            ‘Yeah.’ David nodded distractedly, perhaps going into delayed shock at what he had seen. ‘They were in my pocket. My dad gave them to me.’

            ‘Hey – look at me!’ snapped Harrison. ‘I’m going to get you out of here. That’s my job, and I’m very, very good at it.’

            ‘I know,’ said David. ‘My dad’s a Marine. He’s a Captain.’

            ‘Really? What’s his name? Maybe I know him.’

            ‘Alex Coleman.’

            Harrison was staggered. He knew Coleman had a son, and his ex-wife was a scientist, but here? ‘You’re father is Alexander Coleman?’

            ‘Do you know him?’

Harrison didn’t know what to say. Clearly the boy didn’t know Coleman was here in the Complex.
Had been here
, Harrison corrected.

Harrison stammered, ‘Yes, I know him. Sure.’

David looked relieved, as though Harrison wasn’t going to believe that his father
really
was a Marine. Harrison felt a wave of pity sweep over him for the boy. The gravity of what they faced struck home again. He felt like he would have done anything to save the boy the pain that was coming. At least he was safe. He wondered what the boy had been through in the last hour.

            Harrison asked, ‘How’d you get here? Where were you when the alarm sounded?

            ‘In the reserve,’ explained David. ‘We came out and ran towards the movie cinemas. Then we tried to run through the hub, but….’

            ‘But?’

            ‘They were already in there, you know.’ David nodded his head at the containment door. He ran his hand from his shoulder to his hip. ‘In the cafeteria, I saw a lady with one around here. It came up from under the table. Somebody was hitting it with a chair.’

            Harrison met the boy’s eyes. ‘I bet they were. Sounds like you have some brave people working here.’

            Harrison imagined taking on the creatures armed with a cafeteria chair. He couldn’t even imagine how a scene like that would affect this kid in the long run.
Coleman’s kid
, Harrison reminded himself.

            ‘You better get back inside,’ urged Harrison, squeezing David’s shoulder and steering him back towards the antechamber. ‘I’m going to come and talk to you later.’

            ‘Wait,’ said David, resisting Harrison’s gentle push. ‘Can’t I just wait here with you?’

            Harrison was about to agree, just for a minute longer, but the noise in the corridor came again. It was the same noise, but louder.

            David tensed, his little hands clutching his marble bag.

            ‘Go back with the others,’ barked Harrison, shoving David towards the antechamber. ‘Go!’

            As David ran through the antechamber, Harrison turned to squarely face the noise. He raised his assault rifle and panned the sights across the breadth of the tunnel. He clicked off the CMAR-17’s safety lever and dropped his index finger to the trigger.

            Cautiously, he began walking down the tunnel.

#

‘Gould’s involvement explains a lot,’ reasoned Coleman. ‘It explains the gunmen in the Complex, and it explains how they know more about the creatures than we do.’

            ‘How so?’ asked Vanessa.

            ‘Because Gould and the gunmen are working together.’

            Vanessa looked confused. ‘How could you know that?’

            Coleman took a slow, deep breath. He was about to break some rules. ‘I know that because this Complex has been the focus of a domestic anti-terrorism intelligence operation for the last eighteen months.’

            Her jaw dropped. Coleman could already see her forming a protest.

            ‘Just hear me out,’ he insisted. ‘I didn’t know until recently, and the investigation had nothing to do with
you
personally. The United States Military has never been happy with the special legislation afforded this Complex. You have a security system we know nothing about, a huge international research staff, an undisclosed budget, and the ability to conduct genetic research in the absence of independent monitoring -’

            Her expression said she’d heard it all before, so Coleman jumped ahead.

            ‘These factors alone precipitated a GPS, a general personnel sweep. What you might call a
closer inspection
of the people who work here. That’s how we turned up Gould. Close surveillance of Gould in the last five months uncovered his relationship with the mercenary terrorist Cameron Cairns.’

            She shrugged vaguely. ‘Should I know the name?’

            Coleman raised his eyebrow. ‘I know this isn’t your area anymore, but he’s one of the five most wanted men in the world.’

            ‘What’s he done?’

            ‘Let me ask you a question. What do the following countries have in common: China, India, Syria, Iran, Pakistan, Russia, North Korea, Cuba, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Malaysia -’

            ‘Okay. I got it,’ she cut in. ‘All those countries have anti-American agendas. A few of them possess advanced biological weapons programs that we aren’t comfortable with.’

            ‘Bingo,’ confirmed Coleman. ‘But none of them are powerful enough to challenge the United States directly. So how do they implement their agendas?’

            She shrugged. ‘You tell me.’

            ‘Terrorism,’ declared Coleman flatly. ‘Terrorism is the latest strategy for rival nations to launch attacks without openly declaring war. Never before have smaller countries been able to act without fear of retribution or provocation. This is Cairns’s sphere of operation. He’s become the perfect tool for planning and implementing operations that governments could never openly condone.’

            Vanessa was struggling to take it all in. ‘So Cairns works for one of these governments?’

            ‘Or a group of them,’ corrected Coleman. ‘Recent intelligence suggests that a string of terrorist operations in the last four years have been exceedingly well funded and professionally orchestrated. They’ve been far too professional. And they have all been geared towards strategically destabilizing the United States’ position as a world power. So strategic, in fact, they can only be the result of several countries sharing intelligence and resources. These operations haven’t blown up embassies or taken hostages or made traditional terror-inspiring gestures. Their goal was to shift power away from the U.S. and damage our international reputation. The operations always coincide with key international negotiations to destabilize our footing while empowering our opponents.’

            ‘This is incredible,’ Vanessa said. ‘You’re suggesting that a group of countries are waging war against America in the guise of terrorism? Which countries?’

            ‘It’s not that easy,’ Coleman said. ‘Some countries might not even
know
they’re involved. Factions of their political system or military might be contributors without their senior administrators ever knowing. In the last two years, these professional terrorist operations have targeted one chemical and one nuclear research facility. We believe Cameron Cairns orchestrated both attacks. In both instances, technology was stolen before the facilities were permanently incapacitated. That stolen technology has turned up twice in the hands of our rivals.’

            Vanessa shook her head in astonishment. She repeated softly, ‘Stealing technology to destabilize America….’

            Coleman nodded. ‘That’s why FAST became involved. Our job is to protect strategic installation and assets from terrorist attack. We’ve had to dramatically revise our thinking about what constitutes terrorism. These aren’t extremists with homemade bombs; these are representatives of some of the most highly trained military units in the world. And this is where Cairns comes in. If all those contributing countries needed a General to oversee and advise on these types of operations, that man would be Cameron Cairns.’

            ‘Alright,’ said Vanessa, raising both hands. ‘I understand - Cairns is one bad son-of-a-bitch. But that doesn’t prove he’s here working with Gould. There’s a long history of trusted insiders stealing research for profit. How can we be sure this isn’t all the work of Francis Gould?’

            Coleman understood her reluctance to accept his explanation. He continued, ‘We think Cairns recruited Francis Gould to develop new biological weapons. Every one of Cairns’s operations used an inside source. Always someone who worked there. He’s targeted one chemical facility, one nuclear facility, and now he’s in the most advanced biological research facility on the face of the planet.’

            Vanessa shook her head in incredulous amazement. ‘You’re suggesting that this anti-American group of governments has been implementing a biological weapons development program on U.S. soil through Francis Gould? In my facility?’

            Coleman nodded towards the creature. ‘Well, what would you call it?’

            ‘Okay. Good point,’ she conceded. ‘So why was Gould allowed to keep working here? Why wasn’t he arrested and charged?’