Deadlock by Mark Walden
Franz nodded, still looking slightly nervous.
“Looks like the gang’s all here,” Shelby said as she and Wing came and stood next to Otto.
“Yeah, not a group of people I’d want to get on the wrong side of,” Otto replied. “It’s bad enough being on the right side of them.”
Nero looked up from the map and saw that everyone had arrived. He pressed a button on the table and the door to the room slid shut with a solid thud.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” Nero said, looking around the room. “As I’m sure you’re all aware we have been presented with a unique tactical challenge. Thanks to the efforts of my father and H.I.V.E.mind we have isolated what we believe to be the location of the Glasshouse. G.L.O.V.E. surveillance drones have flown over the area and there does indeed appear to be an extremely well-concealed facility at this location.”
Nero pulled up a video and with a sweep of his hand threw it toward the center of the tabletop’s high-definition display. The video began to play, showing an aerial view of vast white expanses of Antarctic wilderness. Otto studied the video carefully, but he could see no sign of any buildings.
“As you can see, or can’t see to be more precise, the facility is effectively invisible from the air,” Nero continued. “However, if we switch to thermal imaging,” he hit another button on the display and the video switched to a black-and-white infrared scan of the area. There were now several white hot spots faintly visible against the cold blackness of the ice.
“Thermal shielding was an integral part of the design of the Glasshouse,” Nathaniel said, “but there is only so much heat that one can hide with a facility of that size. Those thermal traces tally precisely with my original design. Can the computer chappy put up the plan now please?”
“Of course, Mr. Nero,” H.I.V.E.mind replied. A moment later the holographic projectors hidden in the ceiling activated and a wireframe model of the Glasshouse appeared, floating in the air above the table. Nathaniel walked up to the projection and highlighted several points near the top of the structure.
“These are thermal exhaust ports and as you can see they are a perfect match for the heat traces in the image,” Nathaniel explained. “The Glasshouse is there, hidden under the ice. Unfortunately, knowing where it is and getting inside are two quite separate things. There is only one viable way to get inside the facility undetected.”
“Let me guess,” Shelby said. “Ventilation shafts. I hate ventilation shafts.”
“Oh, goodness me no,” Nathaniel said, shaking his head. “They’re all electrified and lined with motion-sensitive razor nets. What do you think I am, young lady, some sort of amateur? No, no, no, the only way into that facility is right here.” Nathaniel highlighted another area on the three-dimensional model.
“The front door,” Raven said with a frown. “I hope you don’t mind me saying but that seems . . . erm . . . shall we say, tactically predictable.”
“I never said this would be easy,” Nathaniel replied. “I didn’t design the place so you could just walk in, you know. Besides which, your first problem will be getting anywhere near the front door, let alone getting through it. If my specifications were followed, the approaches in all directions will be mined and the door itself will be protected by automated sentry turrets. You can’t just wander up and knock.”
“That’s my plan out of the window then,” Otto whispered to Wing with a crooked smile. He turned to Nathaniel. “I have an idea for dealing with the minefield and I think I can take care of the turrets.”
“It may not be as straightforward as you think, Otto,” Professor Pike said, shaking his head. “The facility’s security systems are electromagnetically shielded.”
“Part of the brief for the design of the facility was that critical systems were hardened against someone using an electromagnetic-pulse device to disable them,” Nathaniel said.
“Or a freaky kid with white hair,” Shelby said.
“Indeed,” Professor Pike replied, “we may not be able to rely on your gifts to get us past the security systems, Otto.”
“Okay, so assuming we can get to the door,” Shelby asked, “how do you open it?”
“Theoretically it has to be opened from inside,” Nathaniel replied. “The guards within the facility have to confirm your identity before releasing the locks. There is a fail-safe though: an alphanumeric keypad hidden above the door that was designed to be used if there was a problem with the internal release mechanism.”
“Okay, no problem,” Shelby said confidently.
“I can assure you that it will be a problem, young lady,” Nathaniel said with a frown. “That locking system is a third generation, pre-shared key system with passive intrusion detection.”
“Like I said,” Shelby said, smiling, “no problem.”
“Once we’ve breached the outer layer of security, what’s to stop us just launching a full-scale assault?” Colonel Francisco asked.
“There is what you might call a fail-safe security system,” Nathaniel said with a sigh. “Bear in mind that I believed that this facility was going to house homicidal maniacs. So I didn’t really think anything of one of the more unusual parts of the brief I was given. The person in charge of the facility can, at any point, flood the entire building with poison gas. That’s why the security and control center are in this self-contained area here.” Nathaniel pointed at the large glass structure hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the facility. “If I had known what the Glasshouse actually was at the time I would never have agreed to the inclusion of such a system, but it’s too late to worry about that now.”
“So Furan can kill everyone inside with the push of a button,” Raven said.
“And we know that she’d do it without a moment’s hesitation if she suspects that a rescue attempt is in progress,” Nero said.
“That’s the main control room and mainframe, correct?” Otto asked, pointing at an area near the top of the glass structure.
“Yes, assuming that no alterations have been made to my original design,” Nathaniel replied.
Otto studied the schematic for a few seconds with a slight frown.
“Okay,” he said, “here’s what we’re going to do.”
chapter nine
Anastasia Furan looked down from the Glasshouse’s control center into the physical training area far beneath her. Several groups of trainees were engaged in full contact hand-to-hand combat training. It was part of her philosophy that no punches should be pulled, quite literally. The brutality not only toughened the trainees up, but also slowly eroded their willpower, leaving them more open to the subtler forms of indoctrination that would turn them from blunt instruments into precision weapons. She had been training assassins for years and she understood that they must have all notions of morality and free will erased from them if they were to be truly effective. Despite its apparent brutality she knew that it was a slow and delicate process that would either produce a pure-bred killer or a corpse. It mattered little to her which.
The door behind her hissed open and Heinrich walked into the control center.
“Madame Furan,” Heinrich said with a polite nod as he approached her, “you asked to be informed when the prototype arrived.”
“Yes, thank you, Heinrich,” Furan said, still staring down into the pit below. “Please bring it to the laboratory. We need to run some tests on it to make sure it is still functioning as intended.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Heinrich said. “Is there anything else?”
“No. I will be leaving for the Absalom facility in a few days,” Furan said, fixing him with a cold stare. “I shall be leaving the Glasshouse in your hands in my absence. I trust you will not allow standards to drop.”
“No, ma’am,” Heinrich replied with a shake of the head. “You can count on me.”
“Good. You may go.”
Furan turned back toward the pit as Heinrich walked away. As she watched the trainees, her mind drifted back to the last f
fourteen years ago
“We must face facts, Anastasia,” Pietor Furan said, as he prowled across the rug in front of the ornate medieval fireplace. “It has been six months since we have had a report from her. We must assume that Raven is either dead or has been captured. We should send someone else after Nero, a team this time perhaps. He is too dangerous, especially now that he knows he is a target. If he finds out it was us, or God forbid she tells him where to find us, after what happened with Elena, you know he will not hesitate to kill us.”
“You worry too much. He doesn’t know that it is us targeting him, Pietor,” Anastasia replied. “He has many enemies. There is no reason that he would link us to Raven and she would sooner die than reveal our involvement.”
“And you are too confident in the control you have over that girl,” Pietor said, scowling. “You know how much she hates us, you especially. What makes you think she would not betray us?”
“Because she is broken, brother,” Anastasia replied. “She has no free will any longer—it was beaten from her long ago. She may hate me, but she will always obey me. That much I am certain of.”
“I hope you are right, Anastasia, I really do,” Pietor replied, “because I have trained many killers and she is still the only one that frightens me.”
With that Pietor turned and walked out of the room, leaving Anastasia alone, staring into the fire. She finished the glass of brandy that sat on the table next to her and turned her attention to the reports on the progress of the latest batch of trainees. After a couple of hours of reading she began to feel tired and so she stood up and walked across the room and through the heavy wooden door set in the stone wall and out onto the battlements that topped the ancient fortress that was home to the Glasshouse. She took a long deep breath of the frigid night air, its icy coldness waking her up instantly. She looked up at the stars in the cloudless sky and sighed. She had hoped that Raven would be able to get to Nero. She knew that many had tried and failed, but the girl had shown such promise. A tiny sound caught her attention and she looked down into the snow-covered courtyard of the ancient castle just in time to see one of her sentries on the outer battlements topple over, his legs crumpling beneath him. Moments later, dozens of black-clad figures ran from the cover of the treeline thirty yards from the outer wall. She turned and ran back into her study, slapping her hand against the red alarm button on the wall. Sirens began to wail all over the building. Just a minute later, Pietor looked into the room as the first sounds of a pitched gunfight began outside.
“It’s a full-scale assault,” Pietor said quickly. “I will coordinate the defense. You get to the helicopter.”
“I will not run,” Anastasia said firmly. “We have invested too much in this place.”
“Don’t be a fool, Anastasia. Even if we hold off these attackers our location has been compromised,” Pietor said, handing her a pistol. “We can recreate everything we have built here, but only if we survive. Now get to the roof.”
She thought for a moment about arguing with him, but she knew he was right.
“Very well,” she said with a nod, “but promise me that you will follow.”
“I will be right behind you,” Pietor said, pulling the silver chain with a key dangling from it from around his neck, “just as soon as I have covered our tracks.”
Nero watched as the plastic explosives on the main gate detonated and the first wave of his assault team ran through the blazing debris into the courtyard beyond.
“Diabolus, you know what you have to do,” Nero said to his friend who was squatting beside him beneath the trees.
“Don’t worry, Max,” Darkdoom replied, “I’ll get as many of them out as I can. You concentrate on finding Furan.” He ran from the cover of the trees and joined the attack.
Nero turned to Raven, the expression on her face unreadable as she watched the assault on the place that had at first been her prison, but had, in time, become her home.
“Natalya, stay here,” Nero said, placing a hand on her arm. “You’ve done all that I expect of you by guiding us here. I don’t want you to ever have to set foot in that place again.”
Raven said nothing, just giving a single quick nod. Nero unslung the assault rifle from his back and sprinted out from under the pines, covering the distance to the outer wall in just a few seconds. He followed the second wave of his men through the burning wreckage of the gate and ducked behind one of the outbuildings in the courtyard. He watched as his men slowly fought their way to the castle’s central fortress, clearing a path. He broke from cover and raced toward the huge stone building, zigzagging as he ran to make himself a harder target. Rounds pinged off the cobblestones around him, but he managed to make it to the fortress wall without getting hit. He inspected the bulky device strapped to his forearm. It was still a prototype, but Professor Pike had assured him that it should work. He took aim at the battlements far above him and pressed the button on the back of the device with his free hand. There was an explosive pop and a steel dart shot out of the device, arcing up toward the roof, trailing a thin steel cable. He felt the line go taut and pulled on it experimentally.
“Here goes nothing,” Nero said to himself, pressing the second button on the device. A split second later he was shooting upward as the motor inside the device reeled him in. He reached the battlements in just a few seconds and pulled himself up and over the rough stonework. He unslung the assault rifle from his back and ran across the roof, following the route that Natalya had shown him earlier. He ducked behind one of the many chimneys that dotted the roof as he saw his target. A transport helicopter sat on a rooftop landing pad with its blades slowly rotating at idle. The pilot in the cockpit flicked switches above his head as he completed his pre-flight checks. Now all he had to do was wait.
On the ground floor, Darkdoom leaned out from cover and laid down suppressing fire on some of the Glasshouse’s guards as his men fought their way toward the location of the dormitories that Raven had described to them. The assault team made their way along the corridor in cover formation, relentlessly driving the guards back and clearing an escape route for the trainees on the floors above. Movement in a side corridor caught Darkdoom’s eye and he caught a fleeting glimpse of Pietor Furan ducking inside a door halfway down the passage. Darkdoom signaled two of his men to follow him as he set off in pursuit. They reached the doorway and Darkdoom gave the hand signal to his men to breach in force. The other men took position on either side of the door while Darkdoom slowly opened it, crouching low to minimize his silhouette in the doorway for anyone who might be waiting on the other side. There was nothing, just a flight of spiral stairs leading downward into darkness and the sound of someone running down the stairs. Darkdoom crept down with the other two assault troops just behind him. There was another door at the bottom which was wide open and Darkdoom pressed himself against the wall next to it. He ducked his head round the door frame and then quickly back again. Having drawn no fire he stepped into the vaulted cellar beyond. There was no sign of Pietor; just a single red flashing light on a boxy object, only half visible in the gloom. Darkdoom advanced cautiously, his two men flanking him on either side. As he approached the steel box he saw that the red flashing light was actually a digital counter with a keyhole next to it. He looked at the display:
9:31
9:30
9:29
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he began to make out dozens of cables snaking away across the floor of the cellar, each leading to pallets stacked high with gray bricks of C4. There was enough explosive to level the entire building and nowhere near enough time to even begin defusing the charges.
“Signal all units. We have to get everybody out,” Darkdoom snapped. “NOW!”
“Drop it, Anastasia!” Nero yelled. “Or I’ll kill you where you stand.”
Anastasia looked him straight in the eye before raising the pistol. Nero squeezed the trigger, his bullet catching her in the upper arm and sending the pistol clattering away across the rooftop.
“Go ahead, Nero, kill me if you want, but then you’ll never know what happened to Elena,” Anastasia snarled, clutching the wound in her arm.
“I know what happened to Elena, Anastasia,” Nero said, raising the rifle and aiming it at her head. “You killed her and now I’m going to kill you.”
“You fool, Nero,” Anastasia spat. “I didn’t kill my sister, you did.”
Nero felt a sudden sharp blow to the back of his head and he dropped his weapon, collapsing forward onto his knees, fighting to stay conscious as lights swam before his eyes. Raven picked up the fallen gun and leveled it at him.
“Excellent,” Anastasia said with a broad smile, climbing into the helicopter. “I knew you would not fail me, Natalya. Now kill him and get onboard.”
“I’m sorry, Max,” Raven said, her finger slipping inside the trigger guard, “but I can’t let you kill her.”
“Why not, Natalya?” Nero said, looking up at her. The broken young girl he had spent so long trying to fix was gone, replaced once more by the emotionless mask of the killer.
“Because I have to,” Raven said, “or I’ll never be free of her.”
Raven spun around, leveling the gun at the helicopter.
“Get us off the ground now!” Anastasia screamed at the pilot, her eyes suddenly wide with fear, as she saw Raven turn toward her. The look on her face was unmistakeable. The pilot wrenched at the collective control and the helicopter slowly began to lift off the ground, tipping forward and soaring out over the battlements, gathering speed. Raven took careful aim and fired. The bullets tore through the cockpit, killing the pilot and shattering the delicate instrumentation. The helicopter’s tail swung slowly around as it went into an uncontrollable spin. Raven watched with no hint of emotion in her eyes, as the helicopter spiraled toward the ground before smashing into the treeline on the far side of the castle and exploding in a giant ball of flame, debris scattering in all directions. Only then did Raven’s emotionless expression crumble as she dropped to her knees, sobbing, the rifle falling from her numb fingers and clattering to the ground. Nero knelt down next to her and pulled her toward him, holding the young girl as she wept.