“Don’t you see, Adrian Hell?” replies Ketranovich. “You caused this! Those men will die in flames because of you!”
I stand paralyzed by anger, watching the screen as the missiles creep on toward the F-22s — closer and closer with each blip of the radar.
I have to do something. But what? They’ve got me at gunpoint, trapped underground, fifteen miles away with no means of communication. I’m desperate, and I hate myself for resorting to begging, but I have no other choice.
“Please, just call off the missiles!” I implore. “If you’re pissed at me, take it out on me. But don’t kill innocent people just to prove a point!”
I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than I want those missiles to explode right now, sparing the lives of the pilots of those fighter jets. I stare at the screen, horrified and seething at my own uselessness, as the methodical beeps of the images on the radar sound out in the deathly silence.
Beep…
Beep…
Beep…
The images collide, and the screen is empty one more.
Silence descends on the large room. I hold my breath as I stare at the blank screen, overcome with emotion.
Suddenly, the Salikovs cheer loudly and touch foreheads in celebration. Ketranovich smiles at Clara, who looks both relieved and satisfied with what’s just happened.
I’m desperately trying to find a way to get out of here so I can warn Josh, but I’ve got nothing.
I keep staring at the large screen, willing the blips of the aircraft to re-appear. But they don’t. I look over at Ketranovich, who’s smiling at me, seemingly savoring my torment.
He pulls a gun from his back, takes a step back from the men at the computers and fires twice, putting a bullet in the back of their heads.
“What the hell are you doing?” I exclaim. “Are you insane?”
“They’ve served their purpose, Adrian Hell,” he says matter-of-factly, nodding at Clara behind me. “As have you.”
“What the—”
29
Ah, shit…
I open my eyes, which sends a stabbing pain coursing through the base of my skull. I roll my head slowly round in circles to loosen some of the tension in my head and neck.
I’m sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall in a dark room. The first thing I notice is how hot it is. I’m soaked in sweat. I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the gloom, but it’s too dark to make anything out clearly. I don’t know where I am, but it feels like I’m sitting in a goddamn oven.
I try to move, but my arms are tied behind my back. My legs are free, but I don’t want to move around too much in the dark without first knowing where I am and who, if anyone, is nearby.
I slowly start to regain my senses. I move my limbs and quickly assess whether I’m injured. Aside from the pre-existing pain in my chest and head, I think I’m intact.
I frown as an eye-watering stench hits my nostrils… What the hell is that? It smells like dead animals.
I can see an eerie, orange glow coming from something in front of me. I squint and I can make out a large shape just ahead of me. It’s huge — easily three meters across, leaving a gap of about two meters at either side to walk around. That means the room itself has to be a good eight by eight square meters.
I struggle to my feet and stagger around to my left. The further round I get, the hotter it becomes, to the point where the heat is making it hard to breathe. The room is a large square, with a smaller square in the middle, which seems to be giving off the heat. I turn right at the end and notice a door on the left wall. I see the orange glow intensify and realize that the three by three meter square in the center of the room is actually an enormous furnace.
Christ!
Well, that explains the heat. It’s almost unbearable standing this close to it.
I hear keys in the lock outside, so I back away around the corner and sit back down against the wall. The door opens and Natalia walks in with another soldier dressed in black, dragging with them the bodies of the two men Ketranovich had shot in the control room. They drop the corpses, working together to pick one up at a time and throw them in the furnace, like they’re disposing of trash in the city dump.
Natalia turns toward me, her face illuminated from the right hand side by the hellish blaze of the fire, giving her evil smile an almost supernatural appearance. She winks at me and, in the blink of an eye, turns as she draws a gun from the holster on her right thigh, shooting the man who she walked in with.
‘Jesus!’ I yell. ‘What is it with you people killing each other?’
She says something in Russian that I assume, judging by the tone of her voice, is derogatory, and then walks out, slamming the door closed and locking it behind her.
What the hell is going on?
It seems that everyone who works for Dark Rain is expendable. The airstrike has failed dramatically, which I can only assume will force GlobaTech to bring forward their ground assault.
I have to admit, Dark Rain’s counter-measures for the aerial assault completely surprised me. They clearly spent their funding wisely, prior to having their allowance cut off. But I can’t see how they’d survive a ground attack — they keep killing their own troops for God’s sake! What’s their next move?
I hear the door unlock again and a moment later, it opens. This time, Clara walks in, immediately pointing a gun at me.
“Get up,” she says.
“What, no foreplay?” I ask.
She takes a step forward, gesturing with her gun. “Give me a reason, Adrian. Please.”
I look at the gun, then at her. Hmmm, maybe right now isn’t the best time to antagonize her…
Without another word, I stand up, never taking my eyes off her. She moves her gun, signaling for me to walk out of the room in front of her. I do so without further comment.
I step outside and immediately feel the welcoming cool breeze of an air conditioning unit. I stand, raising my face to the ceiling and closing my eyes, letting the refreshingly cold air wash over me.
I look around and see I’m in a mid-sized, circular room with a metal grid floor and old brick walls. Ahead of me is a long corridor, leading into another room at the end. To my left and right are two more doors on either side, similar to the one I’ve just walked through and presumably containing the same massive furnace that my room does. There’s nothing else, just the buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead.
The doors at the end of the corridor slide open, and Ketranovich walks through, striding toward me with an almost arrogant swagger about him.
“Your guest quarters suck,” I say as he approaches.
“Typically, our guests do not remain here long, Adrian Hell,” he replies. “The quality of where they stay does not concern me.”
“Fair enough. So when are you gonna tell me what the hell’s going on?”
He stops just in front of me. Clara’s behind me to my left. My hands are still tied behind me.
“What do you want to know?” he asks.
“Where are your nukes?”
He looks at Clara, then back at me, seemingly confused. Then he laughs out loud and pats my shoulder like we’re old friends sharing a joke.
“Okay, what have I missed?” I ask.
“There are no nukes,” he says, still smiling.
“But GlobaTech said they’ve detected a massive underground heat signature that they said was…”
I trail off, frowning as more pieces fall painfully into place for me.
I look all around me. Five rooms, five humongous, three-meter square furnaces on full blast. That’s what the heat signature was!
“Holy shit,” I say out loud, realizing Josh has been massively misinformed. “You’ve laid a trap for GlobaTech, and they’re going to send their troops to walk right into it…”