Fugitives (The Silent Wars Book 2), page 35
A man’s head appeared in his line of vision a moment later. He had perfect bone structure and flawless, tanned skin. His hair was jet black, and his ice-blue eyes twinkled in the bright light that still radiated from the light stands.
“Who are you?”
“Hold still.”
Eli felt a sharp tug from his leg, and the Thule held up a pair of bloodied forceps. “Last one. I’ve sewn you up and injected you with nanobots to repair the considerable damage caused by the bullets.” The mystery man held up a red container. “Stims. Take three a day for the next week, and you’ll be back to normal.” He held up a white container, triple the size of the first. “For your crew.”
“Thank you. Why are you helping…?”
“A Gnat?” the man interrupted.
Eli nodded, perplexed.
“You did me a favour by killing Karl Zapata. My men witnessed it and reported the good news. Let’s just say we are after the same thing. Now I need you fit and healthy to find what we all seek before the others do.”
“If we find that damn thing, we’re going to destroy it.”
“I doubt that.”
Heavy footsteps sounded out, and several soldiers in grey uniform appeared around the Thule. “London security incoming. Five minutes ETA.”
The Thule glanced at Eli and, without another word, left, his shoes clicking on the marble floor. Eli shut his eyes and tried to understand what had just transpired. With every passing second, his body felt better, more energised.
Sitting up, he spotted the small plastic bowl the man had dropped the bullets into. They looked like tiny pancakes, all twisted, malicious and pure destructive power. He was amazed he wasn’t dead.
The Thule and Echoes had achieved so much in their pursuit of science. Prolonged life. Extinguished disease. Played with the very fabric of the universe. Yet they still hadn’t surmounted humanity’s penchant for causing misery and death. He doubted it would ever happen. Maybe, if everyone became monks or something.
Eli wasn’t sure how long he had lain there for, but after some time, he gingerly got to his knees and surveyed the crypt. Hundreds of centipedes’ bodies lay strewn about, burnt to a crisp. Many were curled in balls. Some lay next to the bodies of Zapata’s guards. A few soldiers wearing grey lay where they had fallen, on the stairs and near the entrance. The mystery Thule must have arrived in the heavy vehicle he heard during his fight with Zapata.
Standing, Eli checked his balance, then found his backpack. It was opened and sitting in a pile with the other Watchers’ things. The med kit was missing. Jade’s was next to a pillar, its contents scattered on the floor. He took some time gathering everything up and pocketed his commpad. With one last look at the crypt, Eli left via the rear entrance and hunted for any sign of his friends.
His commpad told him it was thirty minutes until 1800 hours and their scheduled pick-up. Once he was street-side, he glanced around, searching for the London security the armed men had warned were coming. He spotted movement down the far end of the wide street and assumed it was them. Careful not to rush and expose his position, Eli stayed within the shadows and hobbled towards Cleopatra’s Needle.
“Miller!” It was Colter.
Twenty minutes after leaving the crypt, Colter waved to him from the doorway of a building two doors farther down. Eli hobbled over and embraced his friend. Kora and a limping Nox joined the huddle. Eli broke the hug so that he could kiss his furry best friend on the head. Nox licked his face and whimpered with excitement at being reunited. It was obvious the dog was in pain, but, like a lot of animals, he hid it well and seemed more concerned about Eli.
“How the actual hell are you alive, let alone conscious?” Colter said.
“Good to see you too, mate. Ley? Jade?”
“They’re alive. Ley is in a bad way, though, no thanks to you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Fucking hell, Eli. I said coming to London was a bad idea. We know nothing about this place, and now Ley might die. You should be dead. And we are no closer to solving anything, or finding a ghost from the past that may or may not contain some bloody knowledge that we have to destroy.”
“I know,” Eli repeated.
He had never seen his friend so angry before and, going by his flushed cheeks, his nostrils flaring and his eyes bulging, he was going to stay angry.
“C’mon, before I slap that stupid expression off your face.”
Colter took him deeper into the mainly intact structure. Jade’s eyes widened when she saw him. He held up a hand to stop any questions and dug out the stims the Thule had given him. Ley groaned as he injected her with the broad-spectrum antiviral and biotics. Next, he lifted the bandages, and gagged at the stench emanating from her ruined calf. Jade had stopped the bleeding and flushed it out, but Ley needed expert care. At best, a med capsule.
“Bad?”
Nodding, Jade said, “Thule tech is good, but I don’t think even that will save her leg. It will be better to amputate and use a DNA printer to grow her a new one.”
“You can do that?”
“Not here but yes. I’ve given her every sedative I have until we can get her somewhere.”
“Where?” Eli said.
“I called in help. Probably my last favour. Extraction in five minutes,” Jade said. “I’m glad you’re alive, Miller. Wasn’t looking forward to retrieving your body.”
“I thought I was gone too. Some Thule helped me.” Eli smiled at their confused faces. All except for Kora, who stared at her shoes. Nox licked his hand again. Eli wrapped his furry best friend in a hug and kissed his nose. “These stims are different than the usual. Can I use them on Nox?”
“A quarter dose will be fine,” Jade said.
Nox yelped when Eli injected him but didn’t try to bite him. Which was a good sign.
“I woke up to this Thule removing the bullets from my side and leg. He gave me all the med supplies. Said I did him a great service in killing Zapata,” Eli said.
“A Thule?” Jade said, “You sure?”
“Positive. Think it’s a rival?”
“Best guess? Definitely, since he was happy about you killing Zapata.”
“He’s dead?” Colter said. “At least you did that right.”
“Colter,” Jade said. “Not helping. We all agreed to coming.”
“I’m allowed to be angry.”
Standing, Eli said, “I stuck him pretty good. Right where Old Patty taught me. I went for the arteries and kidneys.”
“Good riddance.”
Jade’s commpad hummed and vibrated. She answered it and listened to the caller without speaking. Before she ended the call, she signalled to Eli and Colter to move out. As Ley was still unconscious, they had to lift her in a makeshift stretcher of tied-together jackets. She groaned when they picked it up, then fell silent. With one of them on each corner, they struggled through the crumbling buildings, and had to stop several times to rest. Patrol vehicles could be heard combing the streets, and Eli spotted a hoverplane circling over Saint Paul’s. There was no doubt in his mind now. Their cover had been blown.
Jade gestured towards the Underground station — Embankment — and typed in a code on the keypad to a locked side door. Clean, filtered air washed over Eli’s tired body. It reminded him of home and told him this place wasn’t abandoned like the rest of the city. To confirm his suspicions, bright lights switched on as the group descended the stairs, and again when they reached the platform. A single train carriage awaited them. Two men rushed from it and helped carry Ley the rest of the way. As soon as the train pulled out of the station, Eli rested his head on Ley’s chest, thankful they had survived.
“Thirty minutes, ma’am,” one of the men said.
“And the transport?” Jade asked.
“Vasquez has it ready. You’ll need to be quick.”
“The safe house?”
“Coordinates locked in.”
“Understood.”
The rest of the train ride passed in a blur for Eli. Colter and Jade discussed something, but Eli’s exhausted mind barely registered a word. He moved on autopilot when the carriage halted. The two men led them, first into a bunker, then up a long winding staircase. For a brief second, he thought they had been betrayed when he recognised the hoverplane port, but they were hustled through a confusing maze of doors and corridors and onto their aircraft.
“Welcome back aboard.” Vasquez chuckled. “Holy shit, you guys look terrible.”
“Just fly, Vasquez,” Jade said.
The hoverplane hummed, and Eli felt the sensation of floating return. “Where are we going?”
He nudged Colter, but his friend turned his back on him and crossed his arms.
Eli shut his eyes. He didn’t blame Colter. He was right to be angry. Somehow, they had survived, but at what cost? The part of his brain that he worked hard to shut away broke out and screamed, It’s your fault. Ley is on death’s door because of you. It was you who insisted on London, and you’re no closer to solving anything. Idiot.
The River Thames had been an important part of London since the Romans first settled the area. The grand city developed along its banks before spreading out, filling the sky with buildings of ever-increasing height. But, as with all things, change is inevitable. Climate change brought environmental disasters the like of which humanity had never seen before. The tidal barrier that had protected the metropolis failed. Millions died, and the city was abandoned. Slowly, nature healed, the waters receded. London was being reborn.
Zapata pulled his exhausted body from the sludge of the drainage pipe and flopped down onto the shell-encrusted mud bank of the River Thames. Night had fallen, and his only company were the ravens that still called the Tower home. The darkness didn’t bother him. In fact, he welcomed it. It hid his shame. He had let a Gnat get the better of him yet again.
Miller.
He hated that name. It haunted his existence. All his carefully laid plans were being undone by the Watcher and his crew. Pulling his commpad from his soaked pants, he dialled the number he was dreading to call.
CEO Young answered after two rings. “Well?”
Zapata hesitated, trying to decide whether to sugarcoat the news or just be brutally honest. He chose the latter. “I failed. They’re still alive.”
“That is disappointing. Curious, in fact. A Gnat getting the better of you, not once, or even twice. Is it three times now?”
“Three.”
“I’m guessing that you didn’t find Dr Fisher either.”
“No. Just a crypt with more questions than answers. I have people working on it.”
“Good. I suggest you leave asap. The UK government has lodged a formal complaint to the UCA for an unauthorised operation in their territory.”
“We were discreet.”
“Not discreet enough. Oh. One other matter.”
Zapata cringed at the words and gritted his teeth. “Yes?”
“Helstrop’s transport was flagged in the area. Was that you? It better not be. I have enough of your failures to clean up as it is.”
“No. He was meant to stay in California. I gave him a descendant of Fisher’s to use.” Zapata was seething. When he’d seen Kora, he’d figured something had happened. He didn’t think the scientist was stupid enough to betray him. Had he found out what they were after?
“Good. No more mistakes, Karl. We’ve been working on this for twenty years. If Helstrop knows, the TSS know. I don’t need to tell you how dire that is.”
“No.”
Young disconnected the call.
Zapata stared at the screen for a full minute as he turned over all his options in his head. Before he did anything else, he walked into the river up to his knees and washed all the mud, slime and filth of his body and clothes. And took particular care to wash it from his hair. A few eels and giant carp came to investigate but quickly swam away when he slapped the water.
He had been lucky in that sinkhole. The eels had eaten their full of Holman, one of his men, and the Watcher’s leg. When he had fallen in, they’d barely nibbled. Even so, he’d had to fight the ones that curled around his limbs as he sank to the bottom. Once at the bottom, a current had pushed him through stormwater drains and into a catchment area, where he had lost consciousness while he wounds healed.
He rubbed the flesh under his arm. He had to give Miller credit. His knife attack had been executed with precision, and would have killed a Gnat or normal Thule. They would have bled out in minutes. But he had been modified to withstand such attacks. The cells of his arteries were stronger, impervious to bladed weapons.
Feeling refreshed, Zapata climbed the stairs to street level and headed south towards the rendezvous point. Tower Bridge was lit up by massive floodlights as workers and robots hauled it from its watery grave and worked on reinstalling it.
His commpad vibrated.
“Quinn. Give me some good news.”
“Sir. We captured the Succour operatives from Outpost Rig Forty-two, and have them in our custody on Guam.”
“And?”
“Neither is willing to talk. They’re giving us nothing.”
“To be expected. Leave them for now. I have another job for you.”
“Sir?”
“Helstrop. Track him down and neutralise.”
“Understood.”
Zapata used the night and shadows to hide his movements. Having night vision had its merits on the surface too. English patrols moved slowly through south London but didn’t hinder his progress. Two hours later, he was in Clapham Common. He welcomed the sight of his remaining security guarding his hoverplane. They snapped to attention when they spotted him. None seemed surprised.
Zapata snapped his fingers and gave the signal to depart. Within sixty seconds, they were airborne, flying low.
“Where to, sir?” the pilot asked.
“Any Wey rigs in the area?” Zapata wanted to recuperate and calm his anger at the Watchers fully before planning his next move. Anger had clouded his judgement too many times.
“Closest is the North Atlantic.”
“That will do.”
“One hour ETA.”
The hoverplane changed course and Britain was left behind.
Adler hurried in from her workspace and plonked down in the seat next to Zapata. “I have something.”
“It better be good. I’m too tired for guesses or bullshit.”
“It took me a while because British history isn’t my field of expertise. But, after analysing the data of the ground-penetrating satellite images, I’ve determined that there were never two cities under the cathedral. The Watchers’ theory of the military men is correct. I’ve narrowed the cities’ locations down to four possibilities.”
Zapata raised an eyebrow. “That’s your big reveal?”
“No, sir. I reviewed everything you gave me on Fisher, but I found something in the file of a CIA agent that was tasked with tracking her down.”
“And?”
“And I found this report. Coincidently, it’s the last report written before the agent vanished.” Sliding the commpad across the table, Adler leaned across and turned it so Zapata could see what she had discovered.
A thin smile dimpled his cheeks. His decision to give her access to Fisher’s file had proven to be the right one.
“Australia, sir. More precisely, Christmas Island,” Adler said.
“That place is for scientific research and development. And inhabited by animals that will eat anything in their path. You sure you want to go?”
“Yes. Plus, it is near two cities bearing the names of the men in the crypt. I believe if we follow the trail to the research station on the island, we can confirm Fisher was there and why and then move onto the cities in this region.”
“All the same, are you certain? I don’t need to remind you about York?”
“No, sir. I was rash. This time, I was thorough and I am close to discovering Dr Fisher’s exact location. Fisher went there for a reason.”
“Good.”
“Sir,” Adler said, getting up. “I’ll keep working.”
Zapata rose after Adler had left and moved into his private rooms. He went straight into his sparring space. He was sure the stench of the storm water system still lingered on his body, but he didn’t care. He needed to release the tension and anger in his body and mind, and being physical was the best way. Despite his many injuries, he pulled out the fighting dummy and threw a couple of punches then stopped. The strikes felt so insignificant. With his anger increasing, Zapata took a katana off the wall and pulled it free of its scabbard. Picturing the faces of the Watchers, Zapata hacked and sliced until the dummy was lying in pieces on the floor. His fury sated, the former commander lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.
This isn’t over, Miller.
EPILOGUE
Jurassic Coast, Devon.
United Kingdom.
The pounding rain made the trek along the coast perilous, but Eli didn’t care. The darkness of the storm reflected how he felt — stupid, and angry at himself. It was he who’d insisted they go to London. The result was Ley — the most important person in his world — lying in a coma. It had been touch and go for the last three days. Jade had tried everything she could to stop the blood infection and as a result had to amputate her lower leg with the help of a TSS doctor. Half an hour earlier, she’d told him it was up to Ley now. She had to want to survive. Sounded like a load of bullshit to him. Of course, Ley would want to live.
But that was all semantics. The truth was, they had all decided to chase after the long-dead spectre of Stacey Fisher. They’d known the risks. Didn’t do anything for his mood. Eli couldn’t bear to be in that room any longer. Seeing his beautiful girl with tubes coming out of her nose, surrounded by beeping machines, sent him spiralling into a dive of despair.
Taking another swig from the bottle he’d found in the old house they were staying in, he read the label to try and distract his overthinking mind. Something called Cognac. Whatever the hell that was. It tasted nasty but did the trick. It numbed the pain. He ignored the burning sensation stinging his throat and gulped down another mouthful. It settled in his stomach and warmed his blood.
“Who are you?”
“Hold still.”
Eli felt a sharp tug from his leg, and the Thule held up a pair of bloodied forceps. “Last one. I’ve sewn you up and injected you with nanobots to repair the considerable damage caused by the bullets.” The mystery man held up a red container. “Stims. Take three a day for the next week, and you’ll be back to normal.” He held up a white container, triple the size of the first. “For your crew.”
“Thank you. Why are you helping…?”
“A Gnat?” the man interrupted.
Eli nodded, perplexed.
“You did me a favour by killing Karl Zapata. My men witnessed it and reported the good news. Let’s just say we are after the same thing. Now I need you fit and healthy to find what we all seek before the others do.”
“If we find that damn thing, we’re going to destroy it.”
“I doubt that.”
Heavy footsteps sounded out, and several soldiers in grey uniform appeared around the Thule. “London security incoming. Five minutes ETA.”
The Thule glanced at Eli and, without another word, left, his shoes clicking on the marble floor. Eli shut his eyes and tried to understand what had just transpired. With every passing second, his body felt better, more energised.
Sitting up, he spotted the small plastic bowl the man had dropped the bullets into. They looked like tiny pancakes, all twisted, malicious and pure destructive power. He was amazed he wasn’t dead.
The Thule and Echoes had achieved so much in their pursuit of science. Prolonged life. Extinguished disease. Played with the very fabric of the universe. Yet they still hadn’t surmounted humanity’s penchant for causing misery and death. He doubted it would ever happen. Maybe, if everyone became monks or something.
Eli wasn’t sure how long he had lain there for, but after some time, he gingerly got to his knees and surveyed the crypt. Hundreds of centipedes’ bodies lay strewn about, burnt to a crisp. Many were curled in balls. Some lay next to the bodies of Zapata’s guards. A few soldiers wearing grey lay where they had fallen, on the stairs and near the entrance. The mystery Thule must have arrived in the heavy vehicle he heard during his fight with Zapata.
Standing, Eli checked his balance, then found his backpack. It was opened and sitting in a pile with the other Watchers’ things. The med kit was missing. Jade’s was next to a pillar, its contents scattered on the floor. He took some time gathering everything up and pocketed his commpad. With one last look at the crypt, Eli left via the rear entrance and hunted for any sign of his friends.
His commpad told him it was thirty minutes until 1800 hours and their scheduled pick-up. Once he was street-side, he glanced around, searching for the London security the armed men had warned were coming. He spotted movement down the far end of the wide street and assumed it was them. Careful not to rush and expose his position, Eli stayed within the shadows and hobbled towards Cleopatra’s Needle.
“Miller!” It was Colter.
Twenty minutes after leaving the crypt, Colter waved to him from the doorway of a building two doors farther down. Eli hobbled over and embraced his friend. Kora and a limping Nox joined the huddle. Eli broke the hug so that he could kiss his furry best friend on the head. Nox licked his face and whimpered with excitement at being reunited. It was obvious the dog was in pain, but, like a lot of animals, he hid it well and seemed more concerned about Eli.
“How the actual hell are you alive, let alone conscious?” Colter said.
“Good to see you too, mate. Ley? Jade?”
“They’re alive. Ley is in a bad way, though, no thanks to you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Fucking hell, Eli. I said coming to London was a bad idea. We know nothing about this place, and now Ley might die. You should be dead. And we are no closer to solving anything, or finding a ghost from the past that may or may not contain some bloody knowledge that we have to destroy.”
“I know,” Eli repeated.
He had never seen his friend so angry before and, going by his flushed cheeks, his nostrils flaring and his eyes bulging, he was going to stay angry.
“C’mon, before I slap that stupid expression off your face.”
Colter took him deeper into the mainly intact structure. Jade’s eyes widened when she saw him. He held up a hand to stop any questions and dug out the stims the Thule had given him. Ley groaned as he injected her with the broad-spectrum antiviral and biotics. Next, he lifted the bandages, and gagged at the stench emanating from her ruined calf. Jade had stopped the bleeding and flushed it out, but Ley needed expert care. At best, a med capsule.
“Bad?”
Nodding, Jade said, “Thule tech is good, but I don’t think even that will save her leg. It will be better to amputate and use a DNA printer to grow her a new one.”
“You can do that?”
“Not here but yes. I’ve given her every sedative I have until we can get her somewhere.”
“Where?” Eli said.
“I called in help. Probably my last favour. Extraction in five minutes,” Jade said. “I’m glad you’re alive, Miller. Wasn’t looking forward to retrieving your body.”
“I thought I was gone too. Some Thule helped me.” Eli smiled at their confused faces. All except for Kora, who stared at her shoes. Nox licked his hand again. Eli wrapped his furry best friend in a hug and kissed his nose. “These stims are different than the usual. Can I use them on Nox?”
“A quarter dose will be fine,” Jade said.
Nox yelped when Eli injected him but didn’t try to bite him. Which was a good sign.
“I woke up to this Thule removing the bullets from my side and leg. He gave me all the med supplies. Said I did him a great service in killing Zapata,” Eli said.
“A Thule?” Jade said, “You sure?”
“Positive. Think it’s a rival?”
“Best guess? Definitely, since he was happy about you killing Zapata.”
“He’s dead?” Colter said. “At least you did that right.”
“Colter,” Jade said. “Not helping. We all agreed to coming.”
“I’m allowed to be angry.”
Standing, Eli said, “I stuck him pretty good. Right where Old Patty taught me. I went for the arteries and kidneys.”
“Good riddance.”
Jade’s commpad hummed and vibrated. She answered it and listened to the caller without speaking. Before she ended the call, she signalled to Eli and Colter to move out. As Ley was still unconscious, they had to lift her in a makeshift stretcher of tied-together jackets. She groaned when they picked it up, then fell silent. With one of them on each corner, they struggled through the crumbling buildings, and had to stop several times to rest. Patrol vehicles could be heard combing the streets, and Eli spotted a hoverplane circling over Saint Paul’s. There was no doubt in his mind now. Their cover had been blown.
Jade gestured towards the Underground station — Embankment — and typed in a code on the keypad to a locked side door. Clean, filtered air washed over Eli’s tired body. It reminded him of home and told him this place wasn’t abandoned like the rest of the city. To confirm his suspicions, bright lights switched on as the group descended the stairs, and again when they reached the platform. A single train carriage awaited them. Two men rushed from it and helped carry Ley the rest of the way. As soon as the train pulled out of the station, Eli rested his head on Ley’s chest, thankful they had survived.
“Thirty minutes, ma’am,” one of the men said.
“And the transport?” Jade asked.
“Vasquez has it ready. You’ll need to be quick.”
“The safe house?”
“Coordinates locked in.”
“Understood.”
The rest of the train ride passed in a blur for Eli. Colter and Jade discussed something, but Eli’s exhausted mind barely registered a word. He moved on autopilot when the carriage halted. The two men led them, first into a bunker, then up a long winding staircase. For a brief second, he thought they had been betrayed when he recognised the hoverplane port, but they were hustled through a confusing maze of doors and corridors and onto their aircraft.
“Welcome back aboard.” Vasquez chuckled. “Holy shit, you guys look terrible.”
“Just fly, Vasquez,” Jade said.
The hoverplane hummed, and Eli felt the sensation of floating return. “Where are we going?”
He nudged Colter, but his friend turned his back on him and crossed his arms.
Eli shut his eyes. He didn’t blame Colter. He was right to be angry. Somehow, they had survived, but at what cost? The part of his brain that he worked hard to shut away broke out and screamed, It’s your fault. Ley is on death’s door because of you. It was you who insisted on London, and you’re no closer to solving anything. Idiot.
The River Thames had been an important part of London since the Romans first settled the area. The grand city developed along its banks before spreading out, filling the sky with buildings of ever-increasing height. But, as with all things, change is inevitable. Climate change brought environmental disasters the like of which humanity had never seen before. The tidal barrier that had protected the metropolis failed. Millions died, and the city was abandoned. Slowly, nature healed, the waters receded. London was being reborn.
Zapata pulled his exhausted body from the sludge of the drainage pipe and flopped down onto the shell-encrusted mud bank of the River Thames. Night had fallen, and his only company were the ravens that still called the Tower home. The darkness didn’t bother him. In fact, he welcomed it. It hid his shame. He had let a Gnat get the better of him yet again.
Miller.
He hated that name. It haunted his existence. All his carefully laid plans were being undone by the Watcher and his crew. Pulling his commpad from his soaked pants, he dialled the number he was dreading to call.
CEO Young answered after two rings. “Well?”
Zapata hesitated, trying to decide whether to sugarcoat the news or just be brutally honest. He chose the latter. “I failed. They’re still alive.”
“That is disappointing. Curious, in fact. A Gnat getting the better of you, not once, or even twice. Is it three times now?”
“Three.”
“I’m guessing that you didn’t find Dr Fisher either.”
“No. Just a crypt with more questions than answers. I have people working on it.”
“Good. I suggest you leave asap. The UK government has lodged a formal complaint to the UCA for an unauthorised operation in their territory.”
“We were discreet.”
“Not discreet enough. Oh. One other matter.”
Zapata cringed at the words and gritted his teeth. “Yes?”
“Helstrop’s transport was flagged in the area. Was that you? It better not be. I have enough of your failures to clean up as it is.”
“No. He was meant to stay in California. I gave him a descendant of Fisher’s to use.” Zapata was seething. When he’d seen Kora, he’d figured something had happened. He didn’t think the scientist was stupid enough to betray him. Had he found out what they were after?
“Good. No more mistakes, Karl. We’ve been working on this for twenty years. If Helstrop knows, the TSS know. I don’t need to tell you how dire that is.”
“No.”
Young disconnected the call.
Zapata stared at the screen for a full minute as he turned over all his options in his head. Before he did anything else, he walked into the river up to his knees and washed all the mud, slime and filth of his body and clothes. And took particular care to wash it from his hair. A few eels and giant carp came to investigate but quickly swam away when he slapped the water.
He had been lucky in that sinkhole. The eels had eaten their full of Holman, one of his men, and the Watcher’s leg. When he had fallen in, they’d barely nibbled. Even so, he’d had to fight the ones that curled around his limbs as he sank to the bottom. Once at the bottom, a current had pushed him through stormwater drains and into a catchment area, where he had lost consciousness while he wounds healed.
He rubbed the flesh under his arm. He had to give Miller credit. His knife attack had been executed with precision, and would have killed a Gnat or normal Thule. They would have bled out in minutes. But he had been modified to withstand such attacks. The cells of his arteries were stronger, impervious to bladed weapons.
Feeling refreshed, Zapata climbed the stairs to street level and headed south towards the rendezvous point. Tower Bridge was lit up by massive floodlights as workers and robots hauled it from its watery grave and worked on reinstalling it.
His commpad vibrated.
“Quinn. Give me some good news.”
“Sir. We captured the Succour operatives from Outpost Rig Forty-two, and have them in our custody on Guam.”
“And?”
“Neither is willing to talk. They’re giving us nothing.”
“To be expected. Leave them for now. I have another job for you.”
“Sir?”
“Helstrop. Track him down and neutralise.”
“Understood.”
Zapata used the night and shadows to hide his movements. Having night vision had its merits on the surface too. English patrols moved slowly through south London but didn’t hinder his progress. Two hours later, he was in Clapham Common. He welcomed the sight of his remaining security guarding his hoverplane. They snapped to attention when they spotted him. None seemed surprised.
Zapata snapped his fingers and gave the signal to depart. Within sixty seconds, they were airborne, flying low.
“Where to, sir?” the pilot asked.
“Any Wey rigs in the area?” Zapata wanted to recuperate and calm his anger at the Watchers fully before planning his next move. Anger had clouded his judgement too many times.
“Closest is the North Atlantic.”
“That will do.”
“One hour ETA.”
The hoverplane changed course and Britain was left behind.
Adler hurried in from her workspace and plonked down in the seat next to Zapata. “I have something.”
“It better be good. I’m too tired for guesses or bullshit.”
“It took me a while because British history isn’t my field of expertise. But, after analysing the data of the ground-penetrating satellite images, I’ve determined that there were never two cities under the cathedral. The Watchers’ theory of the military men is correct. I’ve narrowed the cities’ locations down to four possibilities.”
Zapata raised an eyebrow. “That’s your big reveal?”
“No, sir. I reviewed everything you gave me on Fisher, but I found something in the file of a CIA agent that was tasked with tracking her down.”
“And?”
“And I found this report. Coincidently, it’s the last report written before the agent vanished.” Sliding the commpad across the table, Adler leaned across and turned it so Zapata could see what she had discovered.
A thin smile dimpled his cheeks. His decision to give her access to Fisher’s file had proven to be the right one.
“Australia, sir. More precisely, Christmas Island,” Adler said.
“That place is for scientific research and development. And inhabited by animals that will eat anything in their path. You sure you want to go?”
“Yes. Plus, it is near two cities bearing the names of the men in the crypt. I believe if we follow the trail to the research station on the island, we can confirm Fisher was there and why and then move onto the cities in this region.”
“All the same, are you certain? I don’t need to remind you about York?”
“No, sir. I was rash. This time, I was thorough and I am close to discovering Dr Fisher’s exact location. Fisher went there for a reason.”
“Good.”
“Sir,” Adler said, getting up. “I’ll keep working.”
Zapata rose after Adler had left and moved into his private rooms. He went straight into his sparring space. He was sure the stench of the storm water system still lingered on his body, but he didn’t care. He needed to release the tension and anger in his body and mind, and being physical was the best way. Despite his many injuries, he pulled out the fighting dummy and threw a couple of punches then stopped. The strikes felt so insignificant. With his anger increasing, Zapata took a katana off the wall and pulled it free of its scabbard. Picturing the faces of the Watchers, Zapata hacked and sliced until the dummy was lying in pieces on the floor. His fury sated, the former commander lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.
This isn’t over, Miller.
EPILOGUE
Jurassic Coast, Devon.
United Kingdom.
The pounding rain made the trek along the coast perilous, but Eli didn’t care. The darkness of the storm reflected how he felt — stupid, and angry at himself. It was he who’d insisted they go to London. The result was Ley — the most important person in his world — lying in a coma. It had been touch and go for the last three days. Jade had tried everything she could to stop the blood infection and as a result had to amputate her lower leg with the help of a TSS doctor. Half an hour earlier, she’d told him it was up to Ley now. She had to want to survive. Sounded like a load of bullshit to him. Of course, Ley would want to live.
But that was all semantics. The truth was, they had all decided to chase after the long-dead spectre of Stacey Fisher. They’d known the risks. Didn’t do anything for his mood. Eli couldn’t bear to be in that room any longer. Seeing his beautiful girl with tubes coming out of her nose, surrounded by beeping machines, sent him spiralling into a dive of despair.
Taking another swig from the bottle he’d found in the old house they were staying in, he read the label to try and distract his overthinking mind. Something called Cognac. Whatever the hell that was. It tasted nasty but did the trick. It numbed the pain. He ignored the burning sensation stinging his throat and gulped down another mouthful. It settled in his stomach and warmed his blood.
