Target Silverclaw (6 page)

The captain raised his pistol. “I warn you! Halt! That is a direct order!”

The androids continued to advance.

The pistol gave two sharp cracks. The captain had fired at their legs, to wound them. Despite the smoking bullet holes just above their knees, the androids didn’t even pause.

The captain fired again, this time at their chests. The androids continued to advance.

“Draw arms!” cried the captain, his voice suddenly cracking with fear. “Fire at will!”

The three squaddies dropped the heavy crate they were carrying on to the grass and reached for their guns.

“Those androids could kill them!” said Sabre. He darted out into the darkness, microscopic pellets loaded into his needle-like mouthparts.

The captain and his men fired shot after shot. A bullet glanced off the head of one of the androids. Its face tore, but it didn’t slow down. Both androids raised their arms, clearly intending to either throttle their opponents or hurl them aside.

Suddenly the captain yelped and collapsed to the ground. For a second, the three squaddies gazed at him in horror, then one by one they fell. As the last one cried out and keeled over, the
androids dropped their arms to their sides.

“Tranquilizer stings delivered,” reported Sabre. The tiny mosquito remained close to the ground, circling around the helicopter so that he could return to the cargo compartment without risking detection. The androids, meanwhile, turned to look at each other.

“I think they may be wondering what just happened,” said Chopper.

“Let’s hope their programming is basic enough to let them simply accept it and carry on,” said Morph.

The androids remained motionless for a moment, then they split up. The first one walked over to the lorry and picked up the third of the wooden crates. The second android picked up the crate that the squaddies had just removed from the helicopter. Both of them carried the heavy loads as if they weighed no more than a box of breakfast cereal.

While the androids slid the crates into the cargo hold, Sabre darted back inside and the SWARM robots remained there, their stealth-mode upgrades keeping them safe from scan
detection. Chopper transmitted an update to SWARM HQ and requested assistance for the soldiers.

“They’re unharmed,” said Sabre. “They’ll sleep for around twelve hours, and will remember nothing about what’s happened here.”

The androids climbed back into the cockpit. The helicopter’s rotors began to turn, faster and faster. Moments later it rose into the night sky and flew off at speed, heading north.

“Stage one complete,” said Chopper. “We’re following the movement of the crates. Now to begin stage two.”

CHAPTER 7

Roughly two hundred and seventy miles north of airfield 11-88, the dark blue car carrying Drake finally arrived at its destination: a tiny cottage on the windswept west coast of Scotland.

The car had rumbled along a stony path for almost a mile after leaving the main road, its headlights casting sharp pools of light. When it came to a stop, and the engine was switched off, the sudden silence woke Drake up. He grunted and blinked.

“At last,” he grumbled.

In the boot, Nero, Hercules and Widow
quickly crawled back through the hole Hercules had made and dropped down on to the gravel beneath the car. They left just in time to avoid being seen by one of the androids, as he opened the boot to remove the holdall.

Drake looked around, flexing his legs. A full moon bathed the landscape in a cool, eerie glow. In front of the little cottage he could make out open countryside. From behind it came the steady rhythm of the sea washing up against the coastline. The rolling waters glittered in the moonlight and about two hundred metres offshore, the long, craggy hump of an island was just visible.

“Where the devil are we?” asked Drake.

The three androids said nothing. They led him over to the cottage and the SWARM robots followed. Hercules flew close to Drake’s feet and fired a tiny tracker egg at the bottom hem of his right trouser leg. The tracker attached, allowing the robots and SWARM HQ to keep tabs on Drake at all times.

“Just in case,” said Hercules.

“It seems there’s an error in our mapping
database,” said Nero. “GPS places us at a point on the west coast of Scotland looking out towards North Uist and the Isle of Harris. That small island out there isn’t included in the data.”

“Perhaps it only appears at low tide,” suggested Hercules, “and it’s underwater most of the time.”

One of the androids knocked loudly on the door of the cottage. It was answered by an old man wearing a tattered cardigan and a pair of slippers.

“Ah, nice to see you all,” he said.

“Mercury 6, Mercury 9 and Mercury 10 reporting,” said the android. He handed the old man the holdall.

“Come in, Mr Drake, come in,” smiled the old man. “I’m afraid my home is rather basic, but at least it’s comfortable.”

Cautiously, Drake stepped inside.

The old man spoke to the androids. “Off you trot, you three. Let Gold Leader know Mr Drake is safe and sound.” Without a word, they turned and walked back to the car.

The SWARM robots quickly scuttled inside the cottage before the door closed. They hid beneath
a dusty old wooden cabinet that stood in the hallway.

“Where is Gold Leader?” demanded Drake. “I thought I was being taken to Silverclaw!”

“All in good time, Mr Drake,” smiled the old man. “No need for fuss. You’re to wait here until Gold Leader sends for you. Those are my orders.”

“Right,” said Drake. “I need a toilet and some food!”

“Of course. The bathroom is at the end of the corridor, there,” the old man said.

Drake pushed past him and hurried along the hall. “I’ll do you some bacon and eggs, with a nice cup of tea.” The old man held up the holdall. “You’ve got clean clothes, too.”

“Oh,” said Hercules. “It looks like that tracker egg won’t be any use after all.”

In the control room of the Silverclaw base, Gold Leader watched the seconds tick away on one of the display screens beside her chair. Her electronic eye gleamed brighter than her real
one, and her thin lips curled into a grin.

“The first delegates will be arriving in London about now,” she muttered. “Presidents, prime ministers, party chairmen.” She glanced around at the faceless worker androids manning the control panels. “Not long now.”

She tapped a code into a communicator at her side. A nearby screen flicked into life, showing the cockpit of the helicopter transporting the stolen weapons.

“Silverclaw to Mercury 5, this is Gold Leader. What is your status?” she said.

“Acknowledged, Gold Leader, this is Mercury 5,” said the android piloting the helicopter. “Weapons shipment has been acquired. We are on our way back to base. As ordered, we are flying at low altitude to avoid radar detection, and away from densely populated areas.”

“Wait a minute,” said Gold Leader, leaning forward in her chair. “What’s happened to Mercury 2? What happened to its face?”

“The unit sustained damage,” replied the android.

“How?”

“Bullets were fired at us by the army personnel delivering the consignment.”

Gold Leader froze in alarm. “Why?”

“Unknown. They were suspicious of us,” said the android.

“Why?” spat Gold Leader. “What happened? You were supposed to just get the crates and leave! It was a simple pick-up job!”

“One of them began asking unforeseen questions.”

“For what reason?”

“Unknown,” said the android.

Gold Leader thought for a moment. The fingers of her mechanical arm tapped impatiently at the side of the screen. “And were these army personnel dealt with?”

“Yes, they were dealt with,” replied the android.

“Good. Get back here as soon as you can. Gold Leader out!”

She switched off the communicator with an angry stab, then got up and walked over to one of the nearby androids. The artificial limbs on her right side whirred as she moved.

“First those odd scans,” she said. “Now the
army get suspicious for no apparent reason. There’s something going on. I’ll bet Drake’s at the bottom of this – I never trusted him. Get him in here! Now!”

“Acknowledged,” said the android.

“Acknowledged,” said the old man. He was speaking into an antique landline phone, which was perched on top of the cabinet in the hallway.

Beneath the cabinet, the three SWARM robots monitored everything. They had been busy scanning the cottage’s interior.

“I’d need to access the landline cable to tap into the conversation,” said Nero, “but we can easily guess what’s being said at the other end.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll send him along straight away,” said the old man. “Goodbye.” He carefully replaced the receiver.

“Do you think Drake knows that the old man is an android, too?” said Hercules.

“Probably not,” said Nero. “The old man is a more-advanced model than the three who
brought him here in the car. It’s identical to the ones back at the Palace of Westminster.”

“And do you think Drake realizes there’s a transport pod built into the cupboard under the stairs?” Hercules added.

“Definitely not,” said Nero. “This cottage is designed to look old-fashioned and dusty, and the old man is meant to stop humans from examining it too closely. The android is a form of guard dog.”

“My X-ray probes are showing that Drake is changing clothes,” said Hercules. “The tracker egg I placed will be left behind. If we’re going to stay with him, perhaps we should hide ourselves in that travel pod.”

“Logged,” said Nero and Widow.

The three micro-robots scuttled towards the cupboard under the stairs. The old man was shuffling away along the hall. He stopped at a door and knocked gingerly.

“Mr Drake? Are you decent?” Drake emerged wearing a fresh shirt, jacket and trousers.

“I hope you liked your bacon and eggs?”

“I’ve had better,” grunted Drake. “Who was that on the phone?”

“The time has arrived! I’ve been asked to send you on your way to Silverclaw central control.”

“Right, where are we going?” said Drake, marching towards the front door.

“Oh, no, no, Mr Drake,” smiled the old man. “In here.” He opened the understairs cupboard, and pulled out a vacuum cleaner. “I’ll just get this out of your way.”

Drake stared at him, his mouth pulled into a sneer. “What are you talking about? Are you expecting me to crawl into a cupboard?”

“Oh, it’s quite roomy, really,” said the old man. He motioned for Drake to step inside.

Reluctantly Drake bent over and walked into the cupboard. There was a small, battered seat fixed to the rear wall, which looked like it had been salvaged from an old car. The micro-robots were safely hidden under the car seat’s springy base. Widow quickly spun a series of strong web-lines around the three of them, to keep them strapped in place. Drake sat, eyeing his surroundings warily. The inside of the cupboard seemed every bit as tattered and grubby as the rest of the place.

“You’ll need to fasten your safety belt, Mr Drake,” said the old man.

Drake did so slowly, his expression growing more uncertain every second.

“Scans of the earth immediately below us indicate a sudden vertical drop, then a sharp turn to the right,” said Nero.

The old man gently closed the door, then flicked a light switch nearby. Inside the cupboard, there was a sudden clang as metal clamps opened. The seat and a small section of the surrounding floor instantly fell five metres down a narrow tunnel lined with metal, running on rails like a rollercoaster.

Drake screamed in terror as the travel pod swung violently to the right and shot forward.

“A very interesting piece of engineering,” said Nero calmly.

At that moment, the helicopter carrying the stolen weapons was approaching the remote stretch of Scottish coastline where the cottage stood.

“I’m picking up one of Hercules’s tracker eggs,” said Morph.

“Confirmed,” said Sabre. “Calculating location… It’s in a small cottage, a few hundred metres ahead of us. No significant sound or movement close by.”

“He must have tagged Drake,” said Morph. “Could that little cottage really be Silverclaw’s headquarters?”

“Nero, Hercules and Widow are in the area, but their signals are blurred,” said Sabre. “That may be a side effect of stealth mode, or they may be deep underground. The signals are moving at high speed.”

“Hive 1 to Hive 2,” transmitted Chopper.

“Hive 2 online,” signalled Nero from the tunnel. He sent Chopper an update on the events of the past few hours.

“What’s that screaming noise?” said Chopper.

“It’s Drake,” said Nero. “Some humans seem to fear rapid motion.”

“Your transmissions are unclear. Contact us when you can re-establish a secure link.”

“Logged,” said Nero. “Hive 2 out.”