“I say, Jake. So much damage in such a short time! I see you’ve not lost your touch, old son.” LJ said, casting his eye over the black, bullet riddled, fuselage of the Ferran & Cardini Learjet. “It’s good to see you’ve still got your sense of humour, LJ!” Dillon said smiling. He pulled a cigarette from the packet and lit it.
Edward Levenson-Jones walked over to Vince Sharp, who handed his boss a steaming mug of tea. He turned to face the small gathering, “I’ve dropped in, to tell you personally that the Prime Minister’s order has now been issued and giving you carte blanche on this extremely arduous assignment. Needless to say, you have the full weight of № 10 behind you. Anything you want, just ask.”
“Anything? Well, that’s reassuring.” Alix blurted.
LJ went on, “Your assignment is simple — to stop Ramus from launching a fully functioning Chimera virus programme. Jake, you have managed to halt this up to now, by ensuring the optical disc remained out of his reach. But the latest intelligence reports indicate that Ramus has been busy, he’s had some of the best hackers on the planet writing the missing elements to the Chimera scripts and is now only hours away from causing global chaos.”
“Where is Ramus now?” Lola asked.
“His last known location was somewhere off the coast of South America. But, the CIA has been tracking him with their newest satellite. Apparently, even a stealth ship can’t hide anymore. It turns out that he’s heading our way to collect something so vital to his plan, that he’s willing to jeopardise everything by doing so.”
“What about the Anthrax canisters the Priest found on the abandoned Chinook in Norfolk? Do you think Ramus is planning a bio-attack as well as Chimera?” Dillon asked, exhaling a plume of cigarette smoke.
“It wasn’t Anthrax, turned out to be pure cocaine, old son. The street value of that single canister has been estimated to be at least fifty million sterling. The Anthrax labels were just a ruse, Jake. What better way to transport Class-A drugs, than in such a deadly container.”
“Ramus is a cocaine trafficker? Well, that’s a relief…”
LJ shot Dillon a look of exasperation, dropped his cigar butt onto the floor and stubbed it out with the sole of his expensive handmade leather shoe. “Sit tight here until the CIA confirms exactly where this lunatic Ramus is. Oh, and Jake, please keep me in the loop, old son.” He turned and walked out through the hanger door, a moment later the JetRanger helicopter lifted off the apron.
And wait they did…
Alix took a seat on a stack of empty wooden crates. “Lola, what’s new, girl?”
Lola glanced down at him.
“Tea, love.”
She handed him a mug filled with steaming tea.
“Lots of sugar, Alix, just how you like it.”
“Cheers, luv.” He took a sip and stared out across the vast hanger, the end of his cigarette glowed in the gloom as he pulled hard to get the maximum hit.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, wrapping his leather coat around him. “Just tired. Tired of all the shit.”
Lola sat beside him, putting her arm around his shoulder, and he looked at her, surprised. She pressed her lips against his unshaven face and the smell of her hair filled his senses.
“Hello?”
“Mmmm?”
“You feeling horny, luv?” He grinned his boyish flirtatious roguish grin.
Lola met his gaze. His cheeky grin disappeared when he saw the seriousness there. “You’ve always been an insolent fucker, Alix. But I have really enjoyed working with you. I feel — I don’t know — I have a very bad feeling about what we’re about to do.”
Alix nodded. “It’s what we do, though,” he said softly. “Ramus, and Kirill — they’re about to bring this planet to its knees. And what will evolve, is a world of uncertainty and fear of the like of you and I have never seen! If we don’t stop this fanatic from launching Chimera. Well, the alternative is unthinkable.”’
“Yeah, I know. But… not everybody is going to make it back.”
She licked her lips. They gleamed in the light from Alix’s cigarette. She reached up, suddenly, and kissed him, a long lingering pressing together of lips, and Alix felt lust rush through his body with a ferocity that he had forgotten.
She pulled away.
Alix smiled at her. “Wow, would you like to do that again?”
“If we come through this, I’ll think about it. Maybe…”
Alix nodded. “Thanks, luv. I’ll hold you to that.” They both stood up and walked across the hanger to the Lear, and a few hours of sleep until dawn.
As the tendrils of light crept over the airfield and into the hanger, Alix rose bleary-eyed, stretched the sleep out of his aching muscles, thinking of what lay ahead. He rubbed at his eyes, then at his stubble, lit a cigarette and went over to where Dillon, Vince and the Priest were drinking mugs of steaming hot black coffee. Outside, the sound of helicopter engines screaming and rotors beating the cold morning air could be heard… “What’s all the noise outside?”
Dillon looked up and said. “Security Services. Three helis, courtesy of MI5, along with nine experienced tactical assault field officers as company.”
Alix walked outside to a hive of activity.
There were three Bell 206B-3 JetRanger helicopters, filling the apron with their metal menace. Each had engines screaming, rotors hissing through the cold early morning air, waiting for the instruction to go, glinting in the glorious dawn sunlight.
Alix’s jaw dropped.
He didn’t need to be an expert, although he was, to see that these hover-birds were brand new and adapted for the security service, armed to the teeth with the latest weapon systems.
The Priest came out through the hanger doors and stood beside him, quoting from the small leather Bible, a look of wildness in his eyes. Alix’s gaze roved across the three helicopters, scanning the occupants inside the cockpits, some of whom he would have worked with on ops in the past.
Moments later, the helicopters’ engines were shut down and whirling rotors slowed to a gradual halt. All of the occupants got out and came over to where the Priest and Alix were standing. Alix immediately recognised the attractive Italian intelligence officer named Sophia Mazzaro, who had been seconded to MI5 for the past six months, her speciality, assassination.
The Priest led the nine new-comers into the hanger where, Dillon, Vince and Lola met them and everyone took a moment to get acquainted.
Alix followed them all inside and climbed up onto a fifty-gallon drum. A torrent of strength rushed through him and drowned his despair.
“Can I have your attention!” he bellowed.
Voices trailed off, and slowly all the intelligence officers along with the others turned towards this man who hadn’t had a shave or a bath for over a week and looked like he’d been to hell and back. His gaze met with that of the Priest, who gave him a quick glance and a nod.
Alix took a drag on his cigarette. “Ladies and gentleman, and men of God,” his words rolled out on a cloud of smoke, “You all know why you’re here and what this assignment will involve. Our job is to ensure that the threat to the UK and Global security network is eliminated, and that Ramus is liquidated at the earliest possible opportunity. This man, if allowed to roam freely around the planet, will change the way we live our lives, if he is actually allowed to launch the Chimera virus programme. For those of you who are not familiar with Chimera, let me tell you; it is the most advanced piece of viral software that has ever been written. A silent attacker — undetectable — devastatingly aggressive — intuitive and most of all — infinitely adaptive. It reacts to the environment it has invaded, in the blink of an eye — a Chameleon. Once it’s in, it can extract every piece of data from the hardrive, send it to a remote server and literally take over the system, whether it’s a single computer, a corporate or government mainframe, military networks or any computer that is connected to the Internet. It can get past anti-virus software, firewalls and protected networks, no matter how many layers or encryptions, they have. Am I painting a graphic enough picture for you all?”