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    Area 7 ss-2

    Page 20
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      Auxiliary

      power

      operational.

      Low power

      protocol

      enabled

      Lockdown

      special

      release

      command

      entered

      (terminal

      3-A1)

      Lockdown

      special

      release

      command

      entered

      (terminal

      3-A1)

      Lockdown

      special

      release

      command

      entered

      (terminal

      3-A1)

      Aux System

      AUX System

      008-72

      008-72

      008-72

      Auxiliary

      power start

      up

      Low power

      protocol in

      effect:

      nonessential

      systems

      disabled

      Door 003-V

      opened

      Door 062-W

      opened

      DooMOOW

      opened

      202

      TIME

      Matthew Reilly

      SYSTEM KEY ACTION OPERATOR RESPONSE

      1

      08:18:00

      WARNING:

      AUX System Terminal 1-A2

      not

      08:21:30

      power

      capacity. 35°<i:

      Security

      camera

      system

      shutdown

      command

      (terminal

      1A1)

      008-93

      SYSTEM

      ERROR:

      Security

      camera

      system

      already

      disabled per

      low power

      protocol

      "Okay," Herbie said. "Well, it starts out all right. Standard

      system checks by a local operator. Probably one of the

      console operators up in the main hangar on ground level.

      Then comes the lockdown at 6:58, keyed in by operator

      number 105-02. That's someone high up. A 105 prefix indicates

      a colonel or above. Probably Colonel Harper.

      "But then, at 7:37, something must have happened up

      on Level 1. At that time nearly half the complex's auxiliary

      power supply went up in smoke."

      "A missile hit the junction box " Schofield said, recalling

      his battle with the missile-mounted Humvees up in the

      Level 1 hangar bay earlier. His tone made it sound like this

      sort of thing happened every day.

      "O-kay" Herbie said. "That would explain it. That junction

      box housed the auxiliary power generators. The unfortunate

      consequence of that, however, happened here," he

      pointed at another line:

      08:00:15

      Main power

      shutdown

      command

      (terminal 3A1)

      008-72

      Main power

      disabled

      area 7 203

      "Somebody turned off the main power supply," Herbie

      said. "That was why I couldn't disable the cameras before.

      See here, you can see my entry at 8:21. I'm operator

      008-93.

      "The problem was somebody else--operator number

      008-72--had already turned the cameras off by shutting

      down the main power supply. As soon as anyone shuts off

      the main power, the system switches over to auxiliary

      power--but now, because of your missile impact, this place

      only has half its auxiliary power remaining, which as you

      can see, is draining fast.

      "But ... when the auxiliary power supply kicks in, the

      system switches off all nonessential power drains--things

      like excess lighting and the security camera network. That's

      the low power protocol that keeps getting mentioned."

      "So by cutting the power, he cut the cameras ..."

      Schofield thought aloud.

      "Yes."

      "He didn't want to be seen ..."

      "More than that," Herbie said. "Look at what he did

      next. He keyed in three special lockdown release codes--

      once at 8:01 and twice at 8:04--opening three exit doors."

      "The five-minute window period," Schofield said.

      "That's right."

      "So which doors did he open?"

      "Just a second, I'll find out." Herbie tapped some keys.

      "Now, the first one was 003-V." A schematic diagram of the

      Area 7 complex came up on his screen. "There it is. The

      Emergency Exit Vent."

      "And the other two?"

      "062-W and 100-W..." Herbie said aloud, scanning

      the screen. "Door 062-W stands for door sixty-two/west.

      But that would mean it was part of the ..."

      "What?" Schofield said.

      Herbie said, "62-West is the blast door that seals off the

      westward X-rail tunnel down on Level 6."

      "And the other one? 100West?"

      "It's where that X-rail tunnel ends, over by Lake Powell,

      204

      Matthew Reilly

      about forty miles west of here. 100-West is the security

      door leading out to the lake."

      Brainiac asked, "Why would he open those three

      doors?"

      "You open the Emergency Exit Vent to let your companions

      in. To help you steal the booty," Schofield said.

      "And the other two doors?"

      "You open them so all of you can get out."

      "So why cut the power?" Gant asked.

      "To disable the security cameras," Schofield said.

      "Whoever did this didn't want the Air Force people to see

      him doing it."

      "See him doing what?" Brainiac said.

      Schofield exchanged a look with Gant.

      "See him taking the boy," he said.

      "Quickly," Schofield said to Herbie, "can you find out

      who operator number 008-72 is?"

      "Sure." Herbie began typing fast.

      A moment later, he said, "Got it." A list appeared on his

      screen. Schofield scanned the list until he found the entry he

      was looking for:

      008-72

      BOTHA, GuntherW.

      "Who's Gunther Botha?" Schofield asked.

      "Son of a bitch," a voice said from behind them.

      It was the President. He stepped up behind Schofield's

      shoulder.

      "Botha," he spat. "I should have known."

      "south african scientist, working here on the vaccine,"

      the President said. "You make a deal with the Devil, and it

      comes back to bite you in the ass."

      "Why would he want to take the boy?"

      "The Sinovirus kills both white people and black people,

      Captain," the President said. "Only people of Asian origin

      are safe from it. That boy, however, has been genetically

      designed to be a universal vaccine, for both blacks and

      area 7 205

      whites. But if only white people are given the vaccine, then

      only white people would survive an outbreak of the

      Sinovirus. And if Botha is working for who I think he's

      working for ..."

      "So what do we do now?" Herbie said.

      "We go after the boy," Schofield said instantly. "And we--"

      "No, you do not, Captain," Hot Rod Hagerty said, appearing

      suddenly behind Schofield. "You will stay here and

      you will guard the President."

      "But ..."

      "In case you haven't been paying attention, if the President


      dies, so does America. One little boy can wait. I think

      it's time you got your priorities straight, Captain Schofield."

      "But we can't just leave him--"

      "Yes, we can, and yes we will," Hagerty said, his face

      reddening. "In case you have forgotten, Captain, I am your

      superior officer, and I am now ordering you to obey me. The

      United States government pays me to do the thinking for

      you. So this is what you will think: your country is more important

      than the life of one little boy."

      Schofield didn't move a muscle. "I wouldn't want to

      live in a country that leaves a little boy to die ..."

      Hagerty's eyes blazed. "No. From now on, you will do

      as I say, how I say, and when I say--"

      The President himself seemed about to interfere when

      Schofield stepped forward, right in front of Hagerty.

      "No, sir" he said firmly, "I will not follow you. Because

      if you'd waited for me to finish what I was going to say earlier,

      you would have heard me say: 'We go after the boy, and

      we take the President with us.' Because in case you haven't

      been paying attention, that Botha guy and whoever's with

      him opened up an exit to this place! They've given us a way

      out."

      Hagerty fell silent, grinding his teeth.

      "Now, if you don't mind," Schofield said, "and if nobody

      else has any better ideas, what do you say we all get

      the hell out of this place?"

      UP IN THE CONTROL ROOM OVERLOOKING THE MAIN HANGAR,

      Caesar Russell's four radio operators were working overtime.

      "--main power's down, no cameras operational at all.

      All systems running on auxiliary power supply--"

      "--Sir, someone's initiated the lockdown release codes.

      The western X-rail door has been opened--"

      "Who?" Caesar Russell asked pointedly.

      The console operator frowned. "It looks like it was Professor

      Botha, sir."

      "Botha," Caesar said quietly. "How predictable."

      "Sir," another operator said, "I have movement on the

      X-rail system. Someone heading westward toward the

      canyons--"

      "Oh, Gunther. You couldn't help yourself, could you?

      You're trying to snatch the boy," Caesar smiled sadly.

      "What's the ETA on that X-rail train at the lake?"

      "Forty miles of track at one hundred and seventy miles

      per hour. About fourteen minutes, sir."

      "Get Bravo down to Level 6 on the double, to pursue

      Botha on the X-rail. Then open the top door and send Charlie

      out in the AH-77's to cut him off at the lake--we'll get

      him from in front and behind. Now go. Go. Although Gunther

      could never know it, we need that boy. This will all be

      for nothing if we don't have that child."

      schofield, mother, gant and book II flew down the

      fire stairs at full speed.

      area 7 207

      Schofield ran with his Desert Eagle held out in front of

      him. The Football now dangled from his waist, its hand-grip

      attached to a clip on his 7th Squadron combat webbing.

      Behind them came the President and Juliet, Herbie the

      scientist, Hot Rod Hagerty and Nicholas Tate. Bringing up

      the rear were Elvis and Brainiac, carrying Love Machine between

      them.

      They came to the Level 6 doorway. Frank Cutler's

      bloodied and broken body still lay on the floor beside it.

      "Be careful," Juliet said to Schofield as he put his hand

      on the doorknob. "This was where they got us before."

      Schofield nodded.

      Then--quickly, silently--he whipped open the door,

      and took cover.

      There was no sound.

      No gunshots went off.

      No bullets whistled into the stairwell.

      "Holy Christ!" Mother said, as she looked beyond the

      doorway.

      THE MASSIVE AIRCRAFT ELEVATOR LUMBERED DOWN THE

      shaft.

      On its back, amid the pieces of the destroyed AWACS

      plane, stood the ten men of Bravo Unit. They were moving

      down through the complex, heading for Level 6, in pursuit

      of Gunther Botha and the boy.

      The gigantic elevator platform rumbled down the shaft,

      the dirty gray concrete walls sliding past the Bravo Unit men.

      They swung by Level 3, moving downward ... then

      Level 4 ... then--

      --the elevator platform plunged into water.

      As it came to Level 5, the cell block level, the elevator

      platform rushed down into a wide body of water that had

      formed at the bottom of the shaft. Several tons of water immediately

      gushed onto the platform, slithering in among the

      pieces of the crumpled AWACS plane.

      "Goddamn!" the leader of Bravo Unit, Boa McConnell,

      exclaimed as the water rushed up to his waist.

      He reached for his radio mike.

      "--bravo unit reports substantial flooding on level 5.

      It's starting to fill the main elevator shaft. Only access to

      Level 6 is via the eastern fire stairs or the western ventilation

      shaft. Bravo is going for the ventilation shaft--"

      "--Sir. That enhanced satellite image of the Emergency

      Escape Vent is coming through now."

      A sheet of high-gloss paper edged out of a nearby

      printer. A radio operator tore it clear, checked the time code

      area 7 209

      at the top. "This one's from ten minutes ago. Another one

      coming through--what the fuck--?"

      "What is it?" Caesar Russell said, taking the printout

      from the operator. Russell recalled the subject of the satellite

      scans: the twenty-four rodlike objects that had been picked

      up on the infrared satellite earlier, the ones that had been

      fanned out in a wide circle around the EEV.

      Caesar's eyes narrowed.

      The enhanced satellite image showed a few of the

      "rods" very clearly. They weren't rods at all.

      They were combat boots--sticking out from underneath

      heat-deflecting covers.

      The second satellite scan came through. Caesar grabbed

      it. It was more recent than the first. Only a minute old.

      It showed the same image as the first scan: the Emergency

      Exit Vent and the desert floor around it.

      Only now the cluster of combat boots surrounding the

      Vent was nowhere in sight.

      They were gone.

      "Mmmm, very clever, Gunther," Caesar said softly.

      "You brought the Reccondos with you."

      there were bodies everywhere.

      Christ, Schofield thought. It looks like a war has been

      fought down here.

      He wasn't far wrong.

      Level 6 resembled a subway station—with a central elevated

      concrete platform, flanked on either side by train

      tracks. Like a regular train station, at both ends of the extremely

      elongated space were a pair of train tunnels that disappeared

      into darkness. Unlike a regular train station,

      however, three of those four tunnels were sealed off by

      heavy gray-steel blast doors.

      On the central platform lay nine corpses, all dressed in

      suits.

      The nine members of the Secret Service's Primary Advance

      Team.

      Their bodies lay at all angles, bathed in blood, their

      suits ri
    pped to shreds by the penetration of countless bullets.

      Beyond them, however, lay another set of bodies ... ten

      of them—all dressed in black combat clothing.

      7th Squadron men.

      All dead.

      Three of them lay spread-eagled on the platform, with

      enormous star-shaped holes in their chests. Exit wounds. It

      seemed that these men had been shot in their backs as they'd

      clambered up onto the platform from the right-hand railway

      track, their rib cages exploding outwards with the sudden

      gaseous expansion of the hollow-pointed bullets that had hit

      them.

      More 7th Squadron men lay sprawled on the track itself,

      area 7 211

      in various states of bloodiness. Three of them, Schofield

      saw, bore very precise bullet holes in their foreheads.

      Four of the 7th Squadron commandos, however, had not

      been shot.

      They lay slumped next to a steel door sunk into the wall

      of the right-hand track--the entrance to the Emergency Exit

      Vent.

      Their throats had been slit from ear to ear.

      They had been the first to die, Schofield thought, when

      their assailants had emerged from the Vent behind them.

      Schofield stepped out from the stairwell doorway, onto

      the platform.

      The underground station was empty.

      It was then that he saw them.

      They sat on either side of the central platform, one to

      each track: X-rail engines.

      "Whoa," he breathed.

      X-rail systems are high-speed underground railway systems

      used by the U.S. military for equipment delivery and

      transport. X-rail engines--or "railcars" as they are known--

      move so fast that they require four railway tracks for stability:

      two tracks on the ground and two fastened to the ceiling

      above the railcar.

      The X-railcars that Schofield saw now exuded power

      and speed.

      They were about sixty feet long--about the size of regular

      subway carriages--but their sleek curves and sharp

      pointed noses were quite clearly designed for one purpose:

      to slice through the air at tremendous speed.

      Each train's design was based on that of the most well

      known high-speed train in the world, the Japanese Bullet

      Train. A steeply slanted nose, aerodynamically grooved

      sides, even a couple of winglike canards jutting out from the

      bow of each train were all included as part of the relentless

     


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