Nothing.
He clicked the switch off and on. Then again. Nothing. He clicked it several times in quick succession but Jack stood there, ironically, completely stiff.
‘I don’t understand’, said Taylor. ‘He’s been fully charged. He should just power up’.
Dick clicked the switch off and on again and on getting no response, frustratingly kicked Jack in the backside. Jack’s eyes blinked opened and the initially faint but then distinctive smell of hydraulic fluid filled the room as the liquid began to circulate around his body.
‘Let’s get this fun over with’, said Dick. He shook Taylor’s hand and the two men watched in nervous amazement as Jack made his way to the door in silence, opened it, and walked along the corridor taking strong, purposeful strides.
Elsewhere in the building, somewhere on the upper levels, Maxx was having a heated exchange with Dr. Hargreaves. The doctor had explained there was a tiny, itsy-bitsy problem with a fuel vent in the propulsion system of the rockets that would carry the bombs and this was being sorted as they spoke. Or rather shouted. Maxx was stressed and anxious. The development of the Impotence Bomb had been the culmination of three years of intense development since he’d come to power. It’s what had driven him throughout all those long, barren sex-free years and now, just a few hours before launch he wasn’t going to let some stupid minor technical glitch spoil his fun. However, what was going to spoil his fun was already taking place on sub level four.
Taylor had taken a spare white coat and had put this over Jack’s suit so he could wander around relatively anonymously. The biggest problem they had to overcome was the fact that Jack had no ID chip embedded in his fake skin, and Taylor’s chip wouldn’t permit him access above level three. This meant that when they reached a security station they’d have to rely on brute force to get through. Strictly speaking though, brute force wasn’t Jack’s thing. He was better than that. He’d been designed, built and programmed to be a discrete but effective killing machine. And today Taylor and Dick were relying on him to play that part perfectly.
The trio approached the security station on the way to the elevator. Dick presented his ID chip and walked through the turnstile but just after he passed through he stumbled and fell. As the guard’s attention was diverted Jack struck. In a flash he’d withdrawn his knife and plunged it deep into the guard’s chest, puncturing his heart. Death was instant; the guard didn’t even have time to let out a grunt or a groan. Jack dragged the dead guard to the scanner and passed his hand over it twice so that he and Taylor could pass through. They hid the body in a janitor’s store cupboard, wiped a small spillage of blood from the clean white floor and took the elevator up nine floors to level five.
Dick retraced his steps here, passing through the three security stations on the way to their final destination. Each time he diverted the guards’ attention and each time Jack struck with the same lightning speed. It was important that like their first victim, these guards were killed quickly and cleanly so they had no time to cry for help or set off an alarm. Jack varied the methods used; part of his original programming had been a full understanding of the human anatomy and Taylor had made sure that this information had been restored along with the details of his new mission. The first two guards died from knife wounds to the base of their skulls that severed their brain stems while the third was stabbed in the neck causing massive internal haemorrhaging. Dick felt a slight twinge of guilt in these killings of what were basically innocent men, but he told himself that the ends justified the means.
There didn’t seem to be any sort of storeroom or cupboard near the third security station so they slumped the dead guard’s body back in his chair as if he was asleep on the job. Dick hoped that anyone seeing the knife wound might assume that the guard had a particularly hairy neck and had cut himself shaving. With Jack and Taylor hanging back, Dick turned the final corner and saw the two armed guards on duty in front of the locked door that protected the bombs. The guards tensed and reached for their guns as he approached.
‘Hello. I’m Jeremy Brunel’, said Dick.
‘We know’, said Guard One.
‘The Leader said I could look around this facility’.
‘We know that too’, said Guard Two.
‘Good, well in that case’, Dick said, gesturing to the locked room, ‘I need to look inside. I’m helping with a technical issue’.
‘I’m afraid that’s impossible, Mr. Brunel’, said Guard One, ‘The lock can only be opened by the Leader or Dr. Hargreaves’.
‘Damn!’, said Dick trying to look disappointed. ‘I don’t really want to disturb the leader as he’s really, really busy, so can you call Dr. Hargreaves and let me talk to him’.
Guard Two sighed then got on his radio, demonstrating the familiar reluctance to help that seems inbred within security personnel. It seemed like an eternity before he reached the doctor. Dick took the handset and turning away from the guard, spoke in a low voice.
‘Doctor Hargreaves… yes, everything’s fine… Listen, if the Leader is with you don’t tell him what I’m about to say… Just listen… Kelvin Huntley is going to blackmail you. He’s shown me evidence and is about to go public. Something about a research grant… Calm down! I know a way to resolve this quickly without the Leader finding out, but you need to meet me now… Yes… OK… I’ll stay here’.
Smiling, Dick handed the radio back to the guard. The ruse had worked. He had no idea if or how Hargreaves could be blackmailed but he figured that all scientists misused funds now and again — and the obviously worried Hargreaves turned out to be no exception. For all Hargreaves knew, Dick was waiting for him alone. He had absolutely no idea that Taylor and Jack were waiting in the wings, ready to make their move.
This move was made with Jack’s usual speed and panache. He ran around the corner and before the guards knew what was happening or could sound the alert his hands had moved with their usual deftness. The last thing the guards saw was a flash of bright steel slicing through the air. The last thing they felt was the sudden sharp pain of stab wounds to their vital organs. The sound of these two dead guards slumping to the ground was the sign for Taylor to show himself and for Jack and him to strip the guards and put on their uniforms.
It was unfortunate that the guards on duty that day weren’t blessed with an excess of height. Taylor and Jack were both tall men and they looked silly wearing their new clothes. Their jacket sleeves finished two inches shy of their wrists, while their trouser hems looked like they’d had a fierce argument with their shoes. Jack, with his muscled physique looked the most ridiculous, threatening to erupt from its confines of his uniform at any moment. Dick hoped that Hargreaves wouldn’t notice these sartorial blunders and in fact, he didn’t. He didn’t even notice the fact that there were guards missing from the first two security posts he hurried through on that floor, or that the third guard was seemingly asleep at his post.
He arrived outside the locked door out of breath. ‘What on earth has Huntley been saying about me?’, he asked with an air of panic in his voice. ‘You said something about the research budget, well I can easily account for the missing funds…’ He glanced at the guards and exclaimed, ‘Wait! That man…’. Then he said, ‘Humphhh…. Humphhh…’
Jack had stepped forward, covering Hargreaves’ mouth with one hand, holding him securely round the chest with the other. The doctor now recognised Jack and Kelvin and since he couldn’t speak, could only express extreme surprise with his eyes.
‘Right’, Dick said. ‘We’re going to release you on the condition that you remain here, speak only in a whisper and follow every one of our orders. If you co-operate you’ll live. If you don’t, then Jack will remove your liver and pancreas and force them down your throat so you suffocate. If you understand say ‘Humphhh’’. Hargreaves made the appropriate noise. Dick nodded to Jack who released his grip on the doctor.