Instinct (2010) (15 page)

Fortunately for Mills, Webster had put the word out amongst his NATO contacts that he was looking for trained soldiers with few ties but enough skills that they wouldn’t need carrying, and he soon found himself on a plane to Venezuela, where he had remained, unenthusiastic and unpopular, ever since.

Webster needed a minimum team of six to cover the different jobs required by operations. He had been keen to build up his team beyond that if he could, just in case they lost one – or two in the case of Roach and Martin. This meant that compromises had to be made and, although he could have done with another Carter, Garrett or Van Arenn, sometimes he had to stoop to a Mills or, to a lesser extent, a Jacobs.

Mary Jacobs was a lieutenant junior grade in the US navy when she jumped before she was pushed. She was from a naval family, which is how she ended up being commissioned, despite her obvious lack of commitment and her addiction to alcohol. She was the product of an absentee mother and father, both of
whom served in the navy: father as a rear admiral and mother a commander. Packed off to a private boarding school from the age of five, she had her first drink at nine, and by twelve she was regularly knocking back enough cider to black out. The schools knew what was happening, but the parents were only intermittently available to each other, let alone her, so Mom and Dad’s interest in improving things never seemed genuine enough for her to take it seriously.

By the time she was in high school, she already had a reputation as an easy girl who liked a drink and would do most things to get one. Pat psychology would suggest this was a classic cry for attention, but that didn’t change the fact that she was often on her back or knees, stinking of Jagermeister. When she became old enough to enlist, it was the only solution her parents could think of and, happily for them, it meant they still didn’t have to take any real interest in their daughter. If the navy couldn’t tame her, they certainly couldn’t, so she’d either work out there or they’d give up on her, convinced they had done all they could.

As it turned out, she took to her new career better than anyone had expected. With her undeserved commission, she went from ensign to lieutenant in a couple of years of near-perfect service. Then things started heading in the wrong direction. Accidentally posted to the same ship as her mother, she slipped again into a craving for maternal attention. At first she went about it in the right way, upping even her previous standards of dedication, but when this failed to gain
any extraordinary recognition from her mom, she returned to standing out for all the wrong reasons: drinking, sex and flouting the rules. Initially this was treated with leniency, because of her service record and her mother’s intervention. However, after an incident involving three petty officers (third class) and two bottles of Jim Beam, she was dishonourably discharged into an unexpected meeting with Major Webster. He believed she had the potential to step up when
the situation required it, but he didn’t expect much more from her than that.

Without the ability to pick and choose from the prime of NATO’s armed forces, Webster often looked hard for whatever he could find amongst the candidates on offer. In Mary Jacobs’ case it was whatever had made her the best in her class for more than two years. He knew there was something within her he could tap into, develop and bring to the fore. In any case, Jacobs had stayed pretty dry since arriving (partly due to the lack of access to alcohol; partly because she had simply opted out of her parents’ lives, just as they had opted out of hers), and she had taken to the more physical regime with dedication, if not zeal. Another good-enough addition.

In the early days, Webster had worked with a limited crew as the operation ironed out its difficulties. No one knew quite how many soldiers it would take to accomplish whatever the scientists required, so Webster kept things small and discreet. The first five men he took on were killed, either by the wasps or during the clean-up
process, which forced them to test out firearms innovations in the field. Since then, he had thought of the recruitment situation as ongoing, with those who failed to make it being replaced by others as and when they became available. Fortunately, that element of his job had all but disappeared as the wasps and weaponry improved. He had lost nobody in almost a decade and much preferred it that way, which was one of the reasons the current situation was straining him. Recalling what happened in those early years was not something he or Bishop wanted to do.

When it came to the trickier jobs, like this one, the first place Webster looked was to Van Arenn and Garrett, and they never let him down.

‘No problem,’ grinned Garrett. ‘We just take a couple of pyroballistics, a liquid-nitrogen grenade, and problem solved.’

‘Not this time,’ corrected Webster, just realizing they had never had to deal with an internal situation before. ‘We’re not in some Colombian jungle or Pakistani cave here. Our ability to deploy the usual weaponry is severely restricted. We have the option of a manually operated nitrogen canister along with a reduced temperature in the whole facility, but that’s about it. Plus, we just stuffed a cloud of poison in there with no ventilation, so you’ve got to go in with masks.’ He looked for a reaction. There was surprise, but no apparent lack of gusto.

‘OK. I like a challenge,’ shrugged Van Arenn, looking at Garrett to check she felt the same way. Bolstered
by her friend’s attitude, she nodded in agreement.

‘Well, this is more than just a challenge. I know I don’t have to remind you what happened to Roach and Martin, and I’m sure you know from the others that we haven’t managed to overcome these particular subjects with any of the usual methods. They are stronger, smarter and more aggressive than anything else that’s been created here, so I want you to understand what you’re getting into. It’s not going to be as simple as opening up enough to get the nitrogen in and then closing it before they realize and get pissed off. They will see you coming before you get within ten yards of the door, and the way it’s wired means that it opens all the way or not at all. We’re trying to get that sorted out, but assume you are going to face real danger. We will be sealing off the area behind you in case any escape, which will make your retreat more problematic. And remember, we don’t know if the nitrogen will have
the required effect.’

‘Sure, Major,’ replied Van Arenn, seriously enough to convince Webster that they were not just going to steam in all bravery blazing and expect to leave in one piece.

‘We just want you to get that notebook and get the hell out. OK, be ready in one hour.’ He dismissed them and headed back to the control room.

Up on the surface, Andrew was sitting on the grass with Carter. The soldier had suggested throwing a football around, but Andrew wasn’t interested in the American variety of the sport. Ever since his dad had passed away he had found it hard getting on with grown-up men. One side of him idolized them, because the only ones he really had any experience of were actors and sportsmen on TV, but the other side of him couldn’t help blaming his dad for leaving him and his mum. However, he was bright enough to realize that Carter was a good guy, so he wanted to take this opportunity to talk to him.

‘Are you a real soldier, Lieutenant Carter?’

‘Sure. I was in the US Marine Corps before this.’

‘So can you kill a man with your bare hands?’

‘Sure I can. You heard of the Vulcan death grip?’

Andrew shook his hand.

‘No Vulcan death grip? Man, what do they teach you in the Queen’s army?’ He said the last three words in the accent Americans use when they think they’re imitating Prince Charles.

‘I think they can kill people without even touching them in the SAS.’

Carter looked impressed. ‘Wow, I think I heard
about that. So what about you? You know any good moves?’

‘Not really. I tried karate, but it got kind of boring, but I’m a cub scout, so I know lots of survival stuff.’

‘Oh yeah? Like what?’

‘Like tracking, first aid, orienteering … that kind of thing. Check out my knife.’ Andrew always carried a Swiss Army knife that his dad had given him for his eighth birthday.

Carter opened the various tools and examined each one before replacing it. ‘Pretty cool.’

‘Do you have a knife?’

Carter pulled up his trouser leg to reveal a seven-inch blade with a leather handle strapped to his calf. He unclipped the fastener and slid it out to show Andrew.

‘The Ka-Bar. It’s the Marine’s knife. Dates back to World War Two.’

‘And you need that out here?’

‘Well, you never know.’

‘Really? What do you do?’

‘Uh … I guess you could call it security.’

Andrew looked concerned. ‘Is this place under threat from terrorists or something?’

Carter gave a small chuckle. ‘No, nothing like that.’

‘So why do you need soldiers for security?’

Carter hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn. He wasn’t sure what he was allowed to tell the kid, but he didn’t want to seem like he had something to hide.

‘Technical stuff. We’re trained to work in specialist situations like this one.’

‘So there’s a place in the middle of the jungle that’s protected by soldiers, and it needs an insect expert?’ Andrew wasn’t trying to drill for clues – he just didn’t understand.

‘I … guess so.’

‘But …’

‘Are you sure you don’t want to play a little ball?’

‘Of course I don’t expect you to jeopardize everything you’ve been working on for all this time, but you have to see that you could end up with no MEROS and nobody alive. Please just freeze it down and abandon it for a week.’ Laura was standing on one side of the big oak desk while Bishop sat on the other.

‘Look, Miss Trent, I appreciate the advice you have to offer but’ – Bishop increased the volume and aggression of his voice considerably – ‘do not try to tell me how to run this place. I think my experience in maintaining the success of it up to this point leaves me best qualified to decide whether we abandon it or not.’

‘Why on earth did you drag me all the way here if you’re not going to listen to a word I say?’

‘Your area of expertise is entomology, more specifically, Dr Heath’s particular take on that subject.
That
is why I dragged you all the way here, and
that
is why I’m only interested in what you have to say about the behaviour of these insects, not how that behaviour might affect the existence of this facility.’

‘But these people’s lives, the lives of people on the outside … How can you be so cavalier?’

‘I can make an informed decision. The degree to
which it is cavalier or not is a matter of opinion, and ours happen not to coincide. Thank you.’

‘OK, then, I want out. I’m going to wait upstairs with Andrew.’

She expected Bishop to react with a desperate display of pleading, but he didn’t even look up.

‘Really? You know your pilot is down here, sleeping off the flight in the barracks? Are you really going to pop upstairs and hope he makes it to the surface in one piece? And that’s just a practical question. Dr Trent, you don’t strike me as the type of person who would leave so many to die when you could do so much to prevent it. Particularly when the current danger is minimal.’

Laura was burning to call his bluff, to tell him he’d got her all wrong, as she turned on her heel towards the elevator. But if she didn’t do it now, she knew she’d be down here until the danger became significant. They both knew he had her; in fact, this was the moment Laura realized he’d had her all along. All she could do now was try and retain some dignity as she folded.

‘Mr Bishop, if the danger becomes anything other than minimal, I hope they get you first.’

After prepping their weapons, Van Arenn and Garrett killed the rest of the waiting time by parading themselves around the pool table like a couple of feisty gorillas. While the other soldiers came and went from the rec room, they shouted and flexed and sent the pool balls flying across the table, just to show everyone, including themselves, that they weren’t afraid of what they were about to face.

An hour later, Webster took them to where the main corridor of labs turned into David Heath’s personal lair. Neither of them had been down this far before, so they only recognized what they had seen on the surveillance screens.

As per Heath’s instructions, the further his labs stretched from the main part of the complex, the darker they became. He understood why Bishop wanted a blanched sterility to the rest of the building, but the project was his baby too, and that meant he could dim the lights, if that was how he wanted to work. It made this part of the complex feel more organic, like a deepening cave.

Otherwise, there was also a gradual change in the state of the labs: as they darkened, they also became stuffed with abandoned detritus. It looked as if Heath
had worked for a while in each one until it became too chaotic, then simply moved what he needed to the next room and continued there.

Webster had not been this far back in years, and he was amazed to see what Heath had created: the walls were covered in the elaborate marker-pen flourishes of his diagrams and calculations; scorch marks, upturned tables and deep scratches in the window suggested that progress was made in explosive sprints; and, because of the sterile environment, several giant wasp corpses lay perfectly preserved around the desks and floor, like freakish taxidermy.

At last, they reached the doors that led to the nest lab. These were air-locked and windowless, so when Webster keyed in the code to open them, the light hit their eyes like a white wall. Since the discovery of the bodies, Bishop had kept the lab fully lit, as they would have seen from the surveillance footage, but with so much else of interest, it had been easy to forget. Garrett and Van Arenn blinked as if they had just woken up next to the sun, but Webster decided to make use of the pause as one last chance to address his troops.

‘It’s not too late to say no, and I will understand if that is what you wish to do.’ He looked serious, like he meant what he was saying, but all three of them knew that he was really just giving them one more opportunity to give lusty confirmation of their full commitment.