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    Area 7 ss-2

    Page 43
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      gnarled piece of Nighthawk 2's tail rotor embedded in its side.

      Amazingly, however, one object remained untouched

      by the day's mayhem.

      Marine One.

      It still stood on the western side of the aircraft elevator

      shaft, miraculously intact.

      450

      Matthew Reilly

      As their elevator jolted to a halt inside the hangar,

      Schofield and Gant looked about themselves cautiously.

      11:02.

      "The self-destruct computer is in the control room,"

      Gant said.

      "Then that's where we're going," Schofield said, heading

      for the internal building.

      "Wait a minute," Gant said, stopping suddenly, her eyes

      scanning the debris-covered floor around them.

      "We don't have a minute," Schofield said.

      "You go, then," Gant said. "Call me if you need any

      help. I'm gonna try something."

      "Okay," Schofield said, charging off toward the internal

      building.

      Gant, meanwhile, dropped to her knees and started

      searching through the bodies and debris around the mini elevator platform.

      schofield burst inside the lower floor of the internal

      building, leading with his Desert Eagle.

      He hit the stairs on the fly, charged up them. For the first

      time that day, he actually felt in control. He had the lock down code--10502--and now all he had to do was punch it

      into the computer and disarm the nuke.

      Then he would have plenty of time to find Caesar--whose men were now history--before he killed himself, and

      drag him out of Area 7 to face justice.

      11:03.

      Schofield came to the control room door, pushed it

      open, his gun leveled in front of him.

      What he saw took him completely by surprise.

      There, sitting in a swivel chair in the middle of the destroyed

      command room, waiting for Schofield and smiling

      broadly at him, was Caesar Russell.

      "I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT BE BACK," CAESAR SAID.

      He was unarmed.

      "You know, Captain," he said, "a man like you is wasted

      on this country. You're clever, you've got courage, and

      you'll do whatever it takes to win, including the bizarre

      and the illogical, such as saving me. You and your efforts

      would be unappreciated by the ignorant fools who make up

      this nation. Which is why," he sighed, "it is such a shame

      that you have to die."

      It was then that the gun cocked next to Schofield's head

      Schofield turned--

      --to see Major Kurt Logan standing behind him, his silver

      SIG-Sauer pistol pointed right at Schofield's temple.

      11:04.

      "Come in," Caesar said. "Come in."

      Logan relieved Schofield of his Desert Eagle as the two

      of them stepped into the destroyed control room.

      "Come and watch America's death sentence," Caesar

      waved at an illuminated screen behind him. It was like the one Schofield had seen outside. It read:

      LOCKDOWN PROTOCOL S.A.(R) 7A

      FAILSAFE SYSTEM ENACTED

      AUTH CODE: 7-3-468201103

      452

      Matthew Reilly

      ***************

      'WARNING"

      ***************

      EMERGENCY PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.

      IF YOU DO NOT ENTER AN AUTHORIZED LOCKDOWN

      EXTENSION OR TERMINATION CODE BY 1105

      HOURS, FACILITY SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE WILL

      BE ACTIVATED. SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE DURATION:

      10:00 MINUTES.

      **************** yu a pMlMft*****************

      Schofield saw a clock at the bottom corner of the computer

      screen ticking upward.

      11:04:29.

      11:04:30.

      11:04:31.

      "Tick-tick-tick," Caesar said deliciously. "How frustrating

      this must be for you, Captain. No clever plans to save

      you now, no space shuttles, no secret exits. Once the ten

      minute self-destruct sequence is set in motion, nothing can

      stop it from going off. I will die, and so will you, and so, too, will America."

      The clock on the screen ticked upward.

      Covered by Logan, Schofield could only watch helplessly

      as it approached 11:05 a.m.

      11:04:56.

      11:04:57.

      Schofield clenched his fists with frustration.

      He knew the code! He knew it. But he couldn't use it.

      And where the hell was Gant? What was she doing?

      11:04:58.

      11:04:59.

      11:05:00.

      "Lift-off," Caesar smiled.

      "Shit," Schofield said.

      The screen beeped.

      Area 7 453

      LOCKDOWN PROTOCOL S.A.(R) 7A

      FACILITY SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE ACTIVATED.

      10:00 MINUTES TO DETONATION.

      A blinking countdown commenced on the screen.

      10:00.

      9:59.

      9:58.

      At that very same moment, an army of battery-powered

      revolving red lights exploded to life throughout the complex

      --inside the main hangar, down in the aircraft elevator

      shaft, even inside the control room.

      An electronic voice boomed out from an emergency PA

      system.

      "Warning. Ten minutes to facility self-destruct ..."

      And just then--as they were bathed in strobing red

      light--Schofield saw Kurt Logan take his eyes off him, just

      for a split second, to look out at the lights.

      Schofield took the chance.

      He drove his body into Logan's, sending both of them

      crashing against a computer console.

      Logan brought his gun around, but Schofield grabbed

      his wrist and banged it down against the console, causing

      the 7th Squadron commander to release the pistol.

      Caesar just sat back, grinning with satisfaction, watching

      the fight in front of him with mad delight.

      Schofield and Logan fought hard, covered in red emergency

      lighting. They looked like mirror images, two elite

      soldiers who had studied from the same manual, exchanging

      identical blows, employing identical evasive moves.

      But Schofield was exhausted from his previous battle

      with Lucifer and he unleashed a loose swing which Logan punished without mercy.

      He ducked beneath Schofield's wayward blow and then

      tackled him around the waist, lifting Schofield clear off the

      ground and driving him backwards toward the shattered

      windows of the control room.

      454

      Matthew Reilly

      Schofield blasted out through the destroyed windows of

      the command room, back-first, flying through the air. He

      shut his eyes and waited for the crushing impact with the

      floor thirty feet below.

      It never came.

      Instead, his fall was unexpectedly short.

      Thud!

      Schofield slammed down on a rough wooden surface

      that rocked beneath his weight.

      He opened his eyes.

      He was lying on top of one of the enormous wooden

      cargo crates that hung from the main hangar's ceiling mounted rail network.

      It had been parked just outside the control room, a little

      to the left, allowing the command center a clear view of the

      hangar.

      A triangle of thick chains connected the massive crate

      to the overhead rail system six fee
    t above it. The chains were

      held together by a spring-loaded ring mechanism not unlike

      the closable circular latch one finds on a necklace.

      Attached to the ring mechanism was a square control

      unit made up of three big buttons which presumably moved

      the crate back and forth along the rails.

      Then suddenly, the crate rocked wildly and Schofield

      looked up to see that Kurt Logan had jumped out onto it after

      him.

      DOWN ON THE HANGAR FLOOR, LIBBY GANT HAD HEARD THE

      crash of breaking glass and snapped to look up.

      She had just found what she was looking for amid the

      debris on the floor when she saw Schofield come exploding

      out through the control room's windows and land hard on

      the wooden crate suspended high above the hangar floor.

      Then she saw Kurt Logan jump out through the window,

      and land easily on the crate next to him.

      "No ..." Gant breathed.

      She drew her gun, but abruptly, a barrage of bullet

      impact-sparks lit up the floor all around her.

      Area 7 455

      She dived for cover behind a couple of dead bodies.

      When she finally looked up, she saw Caesar Russell leaning

      out from the destroyed control room windows, brandishing a

      P-90 and yelling, "No, no, no! A fair fight, please!"

      "warning. nine minutes to facility self-destruct ..."

      Up on the wooden crate, Logan kneeled astride

      Schofield, hit him hard in the face.

      "You've made today a lot harder than it had to be, Captain."

      His face gleamed with anger in the strobelike red light.

      Another punch. Hard.

      Schofield's head slammed back against the crate, his

      nose gushing with blood.

      Logan then grabbed the control unit above his head and

      hit a button.

      With a jolt and a sway and the clanking of mechanical

      gears, the crate began to move out across the hangar,

      toward the open aircraft elevator shaft. It was petrol

      powered, so it hadn't been affected by the complex's power

      loss.

      As the crate began to glide out over the hangar, Logan kept pounding Schofield, talking as he did so.

      "You know, I remember--"

      Punch.

      "--taking out you Marine pussies at the annual

      war games--"

      Punch.

      "--Too fucking easy. You're a disgrace--"

      Punch.

      "--to the country, to the flag, and to your fucking bitch

      whore mothers."

      Punch.

      Schofield could barely keep his eyes open.

      Christ, he was getting his ass kicked ...

      And then the crate swung out over the four-hundredfoot-deep

      aircraft elevator shaft and Logan pressed a button

      on the control unit, stopping it.

      456

      Matthew Reilly

      The big crate swung to a halt directly above the wide,

      yawning shaft.

      "Warning. Eight minutes to facility self-destruct ..."

      Schofield peered over the edge of the crate, saw the

      shaft's concrete walls, now lined with revolving red lights,

      plummeting like four matching vertical cliffs down into bottomless

      black.

      "Good-bye, Captain Schofield," Logan said, as he lifted

      Schofield by his lapels and stood him at the edge of the

      crate.

      Schofield--battered, bloody, bruised and exhausted-- couldn't resist. He stood unsteadily at the edge of the crate,

      the great hole of the elevator shaft yawning wide beneath

      him.

      He thought about the Maghook on his back, but then

      saw the ceiling. It was made of sheer flat fiberglass. The

      Maghook wouldn't stick to it with its magnet, nor could it

      get a purchase on it with its hook.

      In any case, he didn't have any energy left to fight.

      No more guns.

      No more Maghooks.

      No more ejection seats.

      He had nothing that Logan didn't have more of.

      And then, just as Logan was about to push him off the

      edge of the crate, Schofield saw Gant--a shadow amid the

      redness--saw her taking cover behind some bodies next to

      the eastern rim of the elevator shaft.

      Except friends ...

      He turned suddenly to face Logan ...

      ... and to Logan's complete surprise, he smiled, and

      raised his open palm, revealing his Secret Service microphone.

      Schofield then looked Logan deep in the eye and said,

      "Sydney Harbour Bridge, Gant. You take the negative."

      Logan frowned. "Huh?"

      And then before Logan could even think to do anything,

      with his last ounce of strength, Schofield reached over

      area 7 457

      Logan's shoulder and unlatched the spring-loaded ring mechanism

      holding the crate to the overhead rail system.

      The result was instantaneous.

      In a kind of hellish slow motion that was only accentuated

      by the strobing red lighting, the crate--with both

      Schofield and Logan on it--just fell away from its ceiling

      mounted rails, spilling the two combatants off its back ...

      ... and the three of them--Schofield, Logan and the

      crate itself--dropped together into the four-hundred-foot

      abyss of the elevator shaft.

      SCHOFIELD FELL THROUGH THE AIR.

      Fast.

      At first he saw the red-lit hangar rushing past him,

      swinging upwards--then suddenly that image was replaced

      by the rim of the elevator shaft, swooshing by him as he

      dropped into the shaft itself. Then all he saw were rapidly

      rushing concrete walls speeding by in a blur of gray and he

      glanced up and saw the wide square up at the top of the shaft

      shrinking very, very quickly above him.

      He saw Logan falling beside him, a look of absolute terror

      on his face. It looked as if Logan couldn't believe what

      Schofield had just done.

      He'd just dropped both of them into the shaft, crate and

      all!

      Schofield, however, just prayed that Gant had heard him.

      And as he fell through the air, surrounded by red light,

      he coolly unslung his Maghook, initiated its magnet, selected

      a positive charge, and looked up in search of his only

      hope.

      gant had heard his call.

      Now she lay on her stomach on the rim of the shaft,

      aiming her own Maghook--now charged negatively--down

      into it.

      "Scarecrow," she said into her radio mike, "you fire

      first. I'll make the shot."

      AS HE FELL DOWN THE ELEVATOR SHAFT, SCHOFIELD FIRED HIS positively charged Maghook into the air.

      Area 7 459

      It rocketed up the shaft--flying perfectly vertical--its

      tail rope wobbling through the air behind it.

      Kurt Logan, falling alongside Schofield, saw what he

      was doing and yelled, "No ...!"

      "Come on, Fox," Schofield whispered. "Don't let me

      die."

      libby gant's eyes narrowed as she gazed down the barrel

      of her Maghook.

      Despite all the distractions around her--the flashing red

      lights, the klaxons, the droning electronic warning voice--

      she drew a bead on Schofield's flying Maghook: an arcing

      dot of glinting metal shooting up out of the blackness of the

      shaf
    t, coming toward her.

      "Nothing's impossible," she whispered to herself.

      Then, cool as ice, she pulled the trigger on her own

      Maghook.

      Whump!

      The bulbous magnetic head of her Maghook shot out of

      its launcher, rushed down into the shaft, trailing its own

      length of rope.

      schofield's maghook shot up the shaft.

      Gant's Maghook shot down the shaft.

      Schofield fell, with Logan and the crate beside him.

      Gant rode her Maghook all the way down. "Come on, baby. Come on ..." Since they were oppositely charged, they'd only have to pass by close to each other to--

      Clang!

      The two Maghooks hit--in midair--like twin missiles

      slamming into each other in the sky!

      The Sydney Harbour Bridge.

      Their powerful magnetic charges held them firmly together,

      and up in the hangar, Gant quickly hooked her

      launcher into a grate in the floor.

      Two maghooks equals three hundred feet of rope.

      And a three-hundred-foot fall means one hell of a jolt.

      460

      Matthew Reilly

      When he saw Gant's flying magnetic hook connect with

      his own, Schofield--still falling fast--slung his launcher

      under his shoulders and around his chest. Then he tensed his

      arms around the rope, bracing himself for the impending

      jolt.

      This was going to hurt.

      it hurt.

      With an outrageous snap, the ropes of the two

      Maghooks went taut and Schofield bounced up into the air,

      yanked upward like a skydiver opening his parachute-- while below him, Kurt Logan and the wooden crate just kept

      on falling, and slammed into the aircraft platform below

      them.

      The wooden crate just exploded, its walls shattering

      into splinters as it hit the platform.

      Logan met a similar fate.

      He landed hard--screaming--on the jagged remains of

      the AWACS plane that still littered the elevator platform. His

      head was separated from his shoulders as his throat hit an

      upwardly pointed piece of wing. The rest of his body just flattened with the phenomenal impact, splatting like a

      tomato when it hit the platform.

      As for Schofield, after he was snapped upwards by the

      ropes of the two Maghooks, he swung in toward the side

      wall of the shaft. He slammed into it heavily, bounced off it,

     


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