“Identify yourselves,” he called out in a northern English accent.
“I’m Jerry Caisley, Genesis Alliance Regional Coordinator for New York Three in North America,” he said with an air of confidence.
The man frowned at his clipboard and ran his finger along it. He continued forward across the flattened grass. His squad also advanced, stopping twenty yards short of Jerry.
The engines of the second helicopter whined to a halt.
“Are you in charge?” Cream Suit asked.
Jerry nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Are these all of your men?”
“Yes, there are others, but—”
The man raised his hand, stopping Jerry in his tracks. “Are these all of your men?”
Jerry nodded again. “Don’t worry about the two by the wall; they’re dead men.”
I noticed Jack immediately close his eyes; I followed suit. I didn’t like the look of this one bit. It seemed a strange and aggressive way to introduce themselves.
“Which ones are from the tech team?”
“They’re not here,” Jerry said.
“Then go and get them.”
“I can’t. They were ordered to Atlantic City by Headquarters.”
“Sorry, my mistake. When did they leave?”
“Today.”
The man folded his clipboard under his arm. “Okay, relax, everyone, but stay where you are. I’m an Operations Director from the other side of the pond. I’m going around all of our sites, checking resources and compiling progress reports from the local teams. As you’re aware, we’ve faced some issues, so I want to focus our efforts into the right areas. Please form a single line. I’m going to come along and ask your name and a few short questions.”
“Get moving then—you heard the man,” Jerry shouted.
I squinted half an eye open and watched the man moving along the line, shaking hands with people and having brief conversations while writing on the clipboard. After talking to the last man, he tucked the clipboard under his arm again and walked back in front of the local team.
“Gentlemen, thank you for your time. It’s been invaluable.”
He turned to walk away.
“Is that it?” Jerry asked. “What do we do next?
Cream suit raised his right hand. “Fire!”
The field lit up with muzzle flashes. Deafening bursts of automatic fire ripped through the men and women lined up in front of the building. Rounds thumped against the wall and shattered windows to our right.
I tensed and watched the local goons being ripped apart through my half-closed eyes. None had time to go for their weapons; the attack happened too quickly and unexpectedly for them to react. The man held up his arm again and the firing ceased.
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a silver revolver and waved it in the direction of the massacre.
They searched around the bodies, two of whom were finished off with a close-range shot to the head. I heard Jerry groan.
Cream Suit stood over him. “Why? Because it’s been a total fuck-up over here from start to finish. A destroyed control unit, a late activation, repeating the first activation in New York.”
Jerry raised a quivering, bloodstained hand toward him and let out a mumbled cry. Cream Suit shook his head, lowered his revolver, and fired directly in Jerry’s face.
He walked toward the entrance of the building and looked inside. I closed my eyes and hoped he assumed we were dead. I wasn’t about to start negotiating with him or his team, and lay as still as possible.
“It’s in here,” he shouted. “Remember, take out the processors, but don’t mess it up. We just need to leave it unworkable for anyone who finds it, and easy to put back together if we decide to send another team.”
I squinted an eye open again. Two men entered the building with large plastic briefcases.
“I hear they might be sending the California team here,” one of them said.
“Won’t be for at least a couple of months. They’re too busy at the moment.”
Cream Suit leaned against the exterior wall and lit a cigarette. Drilling noises came from inside. In a matter of minutes, both men left the building. One carried three large circuit boards; the other, a hard drive.
One of the assault team approached Cream Suit. “Want us to sweep the island, sir?”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ve done what’s needed. Let’s get the hell out of here and back to the ship.”
He tossed his cigarette to his side. It landed inches from my face, and smoke drifted up my nostrils. I strained to keep still and suppressed a cough.
“Everybody out!” a voice shouted.
Propellers started to spin, and the engines noise increased. The group boarded the helicopters and weren’t wasting any time. The first rose slowly into the sky, closely followed by the second Sea King. They both inclined forward and thumped away.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I said.
I used the wall to lever myself up, picked up the bolt cutters from the table, and threw myself into the long grass, acutely aware that three people remained alive at the back of the building.
Jack landed next to me. “Make for the trees.”
We staggered up and ran thirty yards to a small wooded area on our left. Close to the sound of water lapping against the shore.
I ducked behind a tree.
“Turn around and I’ll cut you free,” I said.
Jack spun and held out his arms. I snapped the cutters’ teeth through the tie.
He stretched his arms and grabbed the cutters.
The tie flipped off painful wrists. I rubbed them and looked back at the scene of carnage. Relief washed over me, but we weren’t safe yet.
“We’ve got two options,” I said. “Pick up a rifle and finish it, or head for the boat.”
“We finish it—and save Lea.”
I sprinted the short distance back across the small field and knelt by a corpse. He had entry wounds in his nose and forehead, the final one perhaps being the “coup de grace” delivered by one of his own organization. I pulled an AR-15 from underneath him, checked the magazine, and reloaded.
A shot split the air. Jack flew back.
In my peripheral vision, I noticed a figure at the corner of the building.
A muzzle flashed and a tracer round zipped over my shoulder. I swept the rifle around and fired five shots.
Anthony screamed and fell into the light, clutching his chest.
“Jack, are you alright?” I shouted.
“I’ll live,” he groaned and rolled onto his front.
Anthony tried to raise himself with one hand and gurgled, “Bastards.”
We both fired repeatedly. One of the rounds smacked into Anthony’s temple. He lurched forward and flopped face first to the dirt. Jack fired again and struck him in the top of the head. His body didn’t move.
I scrambled over to him but kept half an eye on the building. “Are you okay? Let me have a look.”
Jack lay on his side and pulled his trousers down a few inches with his thumb. He had a small entry wound a couple of inches from his hipbone.
“Lea,” I shouted. “Come out—it’s clear.”
Moments later, the two women appeared from behind the building. They both gaped at Anthony as they passed him.
I pointed my rifle at Martina. “You. Throw your weapon on the ground. The one in your holster.”
She slowly took out the pistol and dropped it in the grass.
“That’s right. Now come closer,” I ordered.
She had some serious questions to answer. Lea had her weapon back, but I felt sure she wouldn’t use it against us. Even if Jack killed her partner.
“She was forced to do it,” Lea said. “She’s just been telling me about it.”
“Oh, I bet she has,” Jack said. He grimaced and used his rifle to haul himself to his feet. “She nearly got us all killed.”