Bunker Ten, page 10
part #1 of Dark Scotland Series
Simon grimaced in apology
“Damn! We need to get them back here before they get shot as terrorists or something,” he said. “Barn?”
“Yeah.” The large boy was standing upright now, though his face was still an alarming shade of red.
“Jimmy must be at the old well by now. I need you to go get him and bring him back.”
Barn’s large features crumpled.
“C’mon big man.” Dave cajoled. “You could do wi the exercise.”
“OK! Big Mongoose to the rescue,” Barn wheezed and vanished out of the door again.
“Are we still overriding the cameras, so he can get out?”
“We are.” Dave brought up the base schematics. “They’re so busy fighting each other in the complex that they’re no paying much attention to the outlying buildings. There’s naebody but us in them anyway. Even the guards took off for the main buildings as soon as the alarms went off.”
“Dave?”
“Aye?”
“Is there a way to reroute the intercom system in this building, so they go through our computer instead of the speakers?”
“Nae problem. It’s a digital system.”
“And use voice decoding software to convert the sounds into text ”
“Nae sweat, Si.” Dave looked puzzled. “Why?”
“If May-Rose starts using the intercom system, I think it’d be better if we could read what she’s saying, rather than hear it. You agree?”
“I’m on it.” Dave grinned at his spectacled friend. “You’d make a good officer, man.”
“I’ve decided to quit the army.” Simon gave a grimace. “If we live through this.”
18.17
Barn reached the outer door, panting with exertion. Klaxons were still sounding below and now he could hear shouted voices. His head was hurting and he was frightened and confused. In his mind he went over calculations in a vain attempt to stay calm.
“12,345,678,987,654,321 divided by 111,111,111 equals 111,111,111,” he chanted, nodding his head violently. He punched 1234 into the door console and pushed it open. A blast of freezing night air blew across his face and he breathed in a deep lungful of dark, clean air.
A figure stepped from the shadows further down the corridor. Barn whimpered and pressed himself against the wall, eyes tightly shut.
“Calm down, will you? It’s only me.”
The voice was instantly recognisable. Barn opened one eye.
Cruickshank was standing in front of him, lab coat splattered with blood. He was holding an automatic rifle awkwardly against his chest.
“I’ve been sent to fetch Jimmy Hicks back.” Barn rasped. “He’s out near the old well. Something has gone awful wrong,”
“Don’t I know it.” Cruickshank moved to the door and looked cautiously into the night. There was no sound from outside. “Why is he at the well? He’s supposed to be meeting Leslie outside the perimeter.”
“He’s going to hide Simon’s time travel formula first.” Barn glanced nervously round. “So we have a copy somewhere safe.”
“Smart move.” Cruickshank nodded approvingly. ”Listen, you go back upstairs to the dormitory. I’ll get Jimmy.”
Barn looked uncertain. “Dave and Simon sent me,” he said hesitantly.
“They did. But I know exactly what’s going on,” Cruikshank insisted. “I can explain everything to Jimmy. What’s the override code, so I can get back in?”
“1234.”
“Fine. Tell Dave and Simon that Major Cowper is dead.”
Barn’s eyes widened. He gave a gulp and peeled off his thermal jacket.
“Take my top then. It’s freezing out there.”
The jacket fit easily over Cruickshank’s lab coat and almost reached his knees. The boy fumbled awkwardly at the zip.
“My hands are shaking too much to do it up.”
Barn knelt and fastened the zipper for him. Then he ruffled his companion’s hair and ran back the way he had come.
Cruickshank watched until he had vanished round the corner. Then he hefted the empty rifle onto his shoulder and limped out into the darkness.
18.20
The intercom was still silent. The staff in the Ops Room glanced nervously at each other.
Lieutenant Dunwoody was the first to react.
“I think we should disable internal communications as well as external ones,” he said. “If this man, Olly, is telling the truth, we don’t want May-Rose transmitting to the whole base.”
“Yes, but I’ve been thinking.” Commander Saunders face was sickly white. “What if Olly is actually on May-Rose’s side? Suppose this whole ‘voice’ thing is a ruse?” He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. “We’ve cut ourselves off from outside help. If we disable internal communications, she can exploit the confusion and break out that much easier.”
“My men have their own walkie talkies and they’re on a separate system.” Dunwoody tapped a small radio attached to his belt. “I can talk to them directly and make sure they keep the situation contained.”
“You sure?”
“This is what I do.”
The Commander nodded.
“Make it so Mr Took.” Saunders was a big fan of Star Trek, and had always wanted to say that. He had the dreadful premonition that it might be his last chance.
Took began tapping furiously at his console, shutting down systems one by one.
“Listen Lieutenant,” the Commander began. “I was trying to tell you earlier, there’s something you don’t know about Pinewood. It has a built in security failsafe in case of…”
A child’s lilting voice drifted through the Ops Room. It was accompanied by a soft, soothing hum
“This is May-Rose. I’m afraid Olly is dead.”
There was a hushed silence as everyone turned and looked at the speaker on the wall.
“But I’m not the enemy, I promise.” the girl continued. “You listened to Olly, so you can at least listen to me.”
“Took. Switch off those speakers right now!” Dunwoody shouted. But Took hesitated, his hand hovering over the transmission switch.
“Listen to me. We’ve made a wonderful discovery down here.” May-Rose carried on. “And we want to share it with everyone. But Lieutenant Dunwoody and his men have been sent to prevent that. They’re here to kill you all.”
“Shut down that communication!” Dunwoody commanded, his voice as stern and official as he could make it. “That is a direct order, soldier!”
Firm as it was, Dunwoody’s tone was nowhere near as imposing as the child’s voice wafting across the room. Heads were beginning to turn in the Lieutenant’s direction. Looks that were a horrific mixture of blankness and hostility.
“Dunwoody and his men are the enemy,” the intercom whispered seductively. “You must destroy them and set us free. You must kill them. Kill them all and let us share our discovery with you.”
The Lieutenant and his men had been trained in a way the base personnel could not even imagine. They knew how to withstand the severest interrogation, to shut their minds and bodies from external pressures, to withdraw into a secret part of themselves.
Dunwoody narrowed his eyes and tuned May-Rose out, though it was harder than he could ever have believed. With a snarl he unleashed a burst from his automatic weapon into the console where Took was seated. The operator fell backwards, warding off a shower of sparks with his arms. May-Rose’s voice was cut off in mid-sentence.
Took struggled to his feet, fury etched across his face. Other technicians were rising from their consoles, turning towards Dunwoody with the same look. A few took tentative steps towards him.
“This is what Olly was talking about!” he shouted. “Commander Saunders, order your men to stand down right now!”
But the commander also had an angry, faraway look. With trembling hands he slowly unholstered his sidearm – he seemed to be fighting against some horrible, overpowering urge he couldn’t control. Biting his lip he swung the pistol towards Dunwoody.
The Lieutenant had been trained in much more than interrogation techniques. He had been trained to survive and to kill.
Without a blink he opened fire, cutting down the Commander and Took where they stood. Howling their fury, the rest of the Ops room rose from their seats and surged towards the Lieutenant, some peeling off to reach the gun rack on the far wall.
Dunwoody took up a combat stance, legs apart.
He raised the gun to his shoulder and began shooting.
18.21
Jimmy Hicks had reached the well. He rummaged around inside his parka and brought out Simon’s formula, wrapped in tin foil and packed in a sandwich bag. As he raised his hand to throw it into the dark hole, he heard a click behind him.
Cruikshank was standing a few feet away, pointing a rifle.
“Hand over the formula, Hicks.”
Jimmy tried to keep calm. In truth, he was as surprised as he was afraid.
“Don’t be stupid, Cruikshank,” he said quietly. “You’ll never get away with this.”
“I think I will. But your escape plan has gone badly wrong.”
Jimmy looked sourly at the weapon. “I can see that myself.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Cruikshank jerked his head in the direction he had come. “People are dying back there.”
As if on cue, they heard the putt-putt of a machine gun from the direction of the base. Jimmy’s started at the sound.
“Leslie is safe outside, I take it.” Cruikshank didn’t even look in the direction of the gunfire. “But I wouldn’t hold out much hope for the rest of your pals.” He motioned with the gun again. “I’m taking the formula and getting out. You’re welcome to follow… after a decent amount of time. Now drop the damned bag.”
“You won’t shoot me.”
“You think not?” Cruikshank was well aware he had no bullets but Jimmy didn’t know that. “Hicks, you’ll just be another dead body. I’ve witnessed plenty in the last half hour.”
Despite his feigned nonchalance, Cruickshank was obviously fighting to control his emotions. His breath was coming in short sibilant bursts and he looked ready to snap. He gave an angry jerk with the gun.
Jimmy reluctantly dropped the bag and stepped back. The boy limped over and picked it up.
“I need ten minutes to get clear then you can make your choice. Get out or go back, it’s all the same to me.”
“You harm Leslie and I’ll kill you.”
“I have no interest in Leslie. If we cross paths, I’ll tell her to run and never stop.” The boy was still backing away, still keeping the rifle trained on Jimmy. “After what I’ve just seen I don’t think the army will let any of us live. Trust me on that.”
More gunfire drifted across the snowy waste behind them.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy.” Cruikshank said abruptly.
It was the first time he had ever called Jimmy Hicks by his first name.
Then he headed towards the rear gate.
18.25
Lieutenant Dunwoody staggered from the Ops Room and into the passageway. He was soaked with blood, white eyes staring from a mask of crimson. One arm hung limply by his side but most of the gore covering him came from the people he had just cut down. He sank to the floor, pulled the walkie talkie from his belt and opened a channel to his team.
“This is Dunwoody,” he croaked. “I haven’t got time to explain but all personnel at Pinewood base must now be treated as hostile. I mean all of them.” He stopped, looking in horror at the red rivulets dripping from his hands. “Everyone on this installation who is not part of my team are to be terminated with extreme prejudice. Do I make myself clear?”
There was a crackle from the radio as his sergeant came on the air.
“Say again sir?”
“You heard me,” Dunwoody replied furiously. “You shoot anyone you meet on sight. Anyone not on our team. Men. Women. Children. Is that understood?”
There was silence on the other end.
“I said, is that understood!?”
“Understood sir. Sir?”
“Yes sergeant?”
“What was going on with that message on the intercom? It made me feel very… strange.”
Dunwoody pressed his bloody fists against his forehead. Then he spoke into the walkie-talkie again.
“You ok.?”
“As far as I know we all are.”
“Then secure the upper levels. Once you’ve done that, lead a small team to the surface and disable all the base vehicles.” He hesitated for a second. “Wreck ours too. And search the surface buildings. Terminate anyone you encounter with extreme prejudice.”
“There are only a group of kids up there.”
Dunwoody was relentless. “It’s a child who’s causing this Sergeant.”
There was silence again. Finally his subordinate spoke.
“I’ll get it done, Sir. Over and out.”
18.30
“Dave, Simon. Are you there? Come in. It’s Jimmy!”
There was no answer from the walkie talkie in his hand. Jimmy sat on the ground, Cruickshank’s words chasing each other round his head.
- Leslie is safe outside.
He looked towards the woods the fence and freedom.
- But I wouldn’t hold out much hope for the rest of your pals.
There was almost constant gunfire coming from the direction of the base. Jimmy slammed a fist into the snow, then picked up the walkie talkie again.
“Dammit! Dave! Simon! It’s Jimmy. Are you there? Come in! It’s Jimmy.”
Just outside the perimeter fence, Leslie crouched on an old oilskin and peered over a clump of gorse. She heard the sound of breaking branches and ducked down behind the bush, giggling to herself.
Jimmy was coming. Tonight was the night. It was going to be great!
A lone form lurched out of the darkness and into the clearing. Leslie knew immediately that it wasn’t Jimmy Hicks. He was too short and the walk was wrong. In fact the stranger seemed to be limping.
The moon came out from behind a cloud and Leslie gasped.
It was Cruikshank. And he was carrying a rifle.
The girl crouched down further and peeped through a gap in the jagged scrub. The blonde boy stopped and removed Barn’s jacket, revealing a bloodstained lab coat underneath. Tearing it off, he threw the coat away with an angry grunt. It drifted down and blended into the snow, invisible, except for splatters of red.
Cruikshank looked at the gun in disgust, then flung that away too. He put the jacket back on, shambled across the clearing and vanished into the trees, heading away from Pinewood.
Leslie waited until he was out of earshot before picking up her walkie-talkie.
“Hicks,” she whispered. “You there?”
“I’m here.” Jimmy’s voice sounded strained and tearful.
“What the hell’s going on? I just saw Cruickshank! He had a gun but he threw it away. Where are you?” The girl’s frightened sentences came tumbling out on top of each other.
“Leslie, you have to go after him. He’s stolen Simon’s formula.”
The little…” Leslie stopped mid-sentence. “What about you? Aren’t you coming to help me?”
There was silence from the other end.
“Hicks? What’s gone wrong?”
“I have to go back.” Jimmy’s voice was thick with apprehension and sorrow. “Something terrible is happening at Pinewood.”
“What, for God’s sake?”
“I don’t know, but Simon, Dave and Barn aren’t answering. I think they’re in danger.”
Leslie got to her feet, shaking snow from her clothes.
“Hang on. I’m coming back.”
“No!” Jimmy shouted. “You can’t do that! Not under any circumstances! I’ll sort this out. You shadow Cruikshank. We have to know where he goes.”
“How will I reach you? The radio range is only a few hundred yards.”
“You’re a genius. You’ll figure out a way.”
“Are you trying to send me to safety, Hicks?”
“Nah.” She could almost see the boy’s lopsided smile. “I just don’t need you getting under my feet when I’m saving everyone’s ass.”
“That’s very noble,” Leslie whispered. “But I can’t leave my friends.”
“Leslie. I’m begging you. I need you to be all right.” There was another silence. A long one this time. When Jimmy finally spoke again, his voice was calm and clear.
“I love you.”
Leslie closed her eyes and a tear slid under dark lashes.
“Of course you do Hicks. I’m great.”
“Over and out, Leslie. Be safe.”
The walkie talkie went dead.
Leslie ran out into the centre of the clearing. The rifle was sticking out of the snow like a piece of battlefield debris. She snapped open the breech, the way her father had taught her, and checked the magazine.
“What? Damn thing’s out of ammo.”
Dropping the gun, she pulled the flashlight from her pocket and followed Cruickshank’s tracks out of the clearing and into a winding path through the forest.
18.35
Leslie had barely vanished from sight when the air began to shimmer and sparkle. A few seconds later Sherman, Madrid, Darren and Nulce were standing in the clearing. They wore dark combat gear and Sherman had on his lucky black leather jacket.
“Great.” He glanced around at the winter landscape. “We stick out like a bunch of exclamation marks on a sheet of white paper.”
Madrid and Nulce crouched low, weapons at the ready, scanning the forest edge for any sign of hostility. Darren bent down and picked up an object by his feet.
“It’s a lab coat.” He said. “A very small lab with blood down the front.”
“So, keep your eyes open for a dwarf with a nosebleed.” Sherman took out his handcom and studied it.
