2041 Sanctuary (Dark Descent) (61 page)

‘You don’t care about anything, that’s the problem,’ Steiner said, his hackles rising. ‘You murder innocent people like slaughtering cattle and disobey my direct orders, effectively condemning hundreds of thousands of civilians to a premature death!’

One of Samson’s eyes crept open. ‘Says the man who nominated himself to go for help, the great man who preaches courage, but is the first out of the sinking ship, saving his own hide ahead of those he supposedly holds so dear. You make me sick; you understand nothing of loyalty, of family.’

‘Loyalty!’ Steiner couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘Like the loyalty you showed your men when you left them for dead before executing them yourself? You sick, twisted bastard!’

Samson surged to his feet and seized the front of Steiner’s red coveralls. ‘What did you say?!’ Samson yanked Steiner in towards him, his eyes wide and manic.

Steiner felt something metallic press against his temple. His eyes flicked left to see Samson’s pistol there, its polished frame glinting in his hand.

‘Say it again!’ the colonel bellowed, almost frothing at the mouth. ‘Say it!’

Something swung through the air and cracked against Samson’s head, snapping it to one side. The pistol fell from his hand, his iron grip dropping from Steiner’s clothing. Eyes glazed, his heavy, armour-clad frame clattered to the floor in a heap.

Steiner looked up in shock at the dishevelled form of the FBI agent, her breathing heavy, her hands wrapped around a rusty piece of pipe. Before he had time to comment, she’d snatched up Samson’s gun, tucked it in the front of her trousers and then turned the colonel over to bind his hands with some thick cable. Moving quickly to his legs, she repeated the process, pulling with all her weight and strength to bind him as tightly as she was able.

Steiner watched her in silence, unsure what to do at this unexpected turn of events.

Hauling Samson’s considerable frame over to the central pillar, agent Taylor sourced some rope from the colonel’s satchel and went about securing him in place, weaving together his arms, legs, hands and feet in an inescapable fibrous web.

She placed a foot on the colonel’s chest and heaved back, the rope cinching tighter and tighter, its individual strands creaking under the strain. ‘Thanks for loosening my cuffs by the way,’ she said to Steiner as she worked. ‘It’s lucky you’re so gullible otherwise he might have killed you.’

Steiner looked at the woman in confusion. Her whole demeanour had altered and not just because she was free. No, this was an extreme transformation from an unassuming, tearful, fledgling agent to one of strength and a self-confidence verging on arrogance. Her tone even sounded deeper and less feminine than before. She was a special agent and was definitely in charge.

‘You tricked me,’ Steiner said, ‘playing the fragile woman in distress.’

She glanced at him. ‘I wouldn’t take it too personally. I did what I had to do. Those cuffs weren’t as tight as they looked, I’d been pulling at them for some time trying to get them loose, the extra bit of slack gave me the room I needed.’

‘How long have you been an agent?’

She finished her task and stood up. ‘Nearly six years, but I was a beat cop before, that bit was true.’ Walking towards him she peered at the TV stream and then removed the gun from her belt and pointed it at Steiner’s chest. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘who the fuck are you?’

Steiner looked at her, his expression dubious.

Her eyes narrowed. ‘You doubt me?’ She stepped closer. ‘I could easily say I shot you in self-defence. There’s no one around to say otherwise and you’re just as culpable for the deaths of all my colleagues as that fucker behind me. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand?’

Steiner watched the gun in her hand and swallowed, his judgement of character apparently failing him for a second time in quick succession. ‘I’m nobody.’

‘Pah,’ she said, ‘you’re insulting me now. Going by the way you carry yourself, the way you stood up to him and by the sound of your little altercation, you’re also his superior. Remember who you’re talking to, profiling people is what I do. So, I’ll ask you again – who are you?’

Steiner didn’t reply.

‘Who are these hundreds of thousands of civilians that are condemned to death?’ she said, trying a different tack and quoting the words he’d said to Samson.

Steiner stared at her, unwilling to speak.

Her eyes flashed and a snarl escaped her lips. Pushing Steiner back against the wall, she switched the gun to his forehead. ‘What does that piece of shit I’ve just tied up want with me?’

Steiner stared into her eyes, no longer doubting her resolve. ‘He needs you to help him find his daughter.’

‘Is that what he told you?’ Her laugh verged on the hysterical. ‘You might want to get your facts straight next time you lend him a hand. Do you want to know the truth, you piece of shit?’ She cocked the hammer. ‘Do you?!’

A bead of sweat ran down the side of Steiner’s face, he closed his eyes fearing the worst.

‘Then I’ll tell you,’ she whispered, her face inches from his, her breath warm on his cheek, ‘I
am
his daughter.’

Steiner’s eyes flared open, his pupils contracting as Taylor stared at him intently. ‘Your father?’ he said, ‘Samson is your father?’
No wonder he’d refused to abort when the alarm had tripped
, Steiner thought,
his daughter had been within his grasp
.
It all makes sense, in a perverse, insane kind of way
.

‘You think this makes us buddies?’ She pushed the gun harder against his head, her finger still on the trigger. ‘That man is a monster. He may have contributed to half my DNA but he’s as much my parent as you are.’

Steiner’s mouth went dry, induced by the arousal of fear. The madness in her eyes and her recent disclosure about her parentage sowed more seeds of doubt in his mind as to her willingness to end his life.

‘Still refusing to talk?’ she asked.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t tell you any more, there’re things going on here far greater than you could possibly imagine.’

‘You think so?’ She yanked him away from the wall and shoved him forwards. The gun to his back, she manoeuvred him round to look at the TV, still streaming on his computer. ‘You think you’re in a position to bargain with me?’ she said. ‘Take a look. Either I kill you, or you tell me what you know; you decide.’

Steiner barely heard her; he was too busy looking at the images on screen. One was a picture of the colonel bedecked in his armour. Alongside this was another photo, taken at a checkpoint, of Steiner himself. Underneath both were the following words, in big bold letters:

FBI MOST WANTED

TERRORISTS

$50,000,000

FIFTY MILLION DOLLAR

REWARD

‘You’re up shit creek, old man,’ Taylor said in his ear, the gun against his neck, her manner, inflection and words frighteningly similar to those of the colonel. ‘It’s do or die.’

Chapter Thirty Nine

The lorry bounced and rolled as it travelled along an uneven section of road. The thin metal panels that made up the box-like container behind the driver’s cab flexed and wobbled, the noise echoing inside the empty space like some giant distorted instrument. The vehicle lurched again and its chassis impacted the surface beneath with a loud BANG, awaking its occupant with a start.

Jessica Klein’s eyes flew open, her gaze darting around in alarm.
Where the hell am I?
she wondered, the small, dull light above doing a poor job of illuminating her surroundings. She deduced by the sound and motion that she was inside a moving truck of some kind.

Her sense of time shot to pieces, Jessica tried to recall how she’d ended up where she now found herself, but her befuddled mind refused to give up its secrets.
Why can’t I remember anything?
she thought, trying to quell the rising panic within her. Concentrating hard, she willed her memory to work. Books, an image of rows of books drifted out of the ether.
A library – I was in a library – yes, that’s right. But why was I there? Answers – I went there to find answers about the GMRC and what they were covering up. To find out why so many of my colleagues at the BBC disappeared and died in unusual circumstances. Yes, and Eric – I met Eric in the library. No – wait – that’s not right
.

A searing pain lanced through her head as if an electrified, white-hot needle was slowly being inserted into her eye. In agony, she put a hand to her forehead and then pushed her palms hard against her eye sockets to try and relieve the pain. She stayed thus for some moments, curious red and orange shapes on black flashing before her subdued vision. The migraine-like sensation gradually subsided and Jessica opened her eyes once more.

No
, she said to herself again, resuming her internal monologue,
I met Eric outside, in his van
. She remembered hearing the blades of a helicopter in the dark, the sensation of running through thick snow. A GMRC team had been sent to the Berlin library to track them down. And then there was Bic, the international hacker, the cyber terrorist. He’d been the one who’d warned that her life was in danger. He was the reason she’d left her London home. Why she’d left her family behind in England – Evan, the girls.

A groan from nearby made her tense. Someone else was in there with her. ‘Who’s there?’

A faint voice came from behind some large cardboard boxes, ‘Jessica, is that you?’

‘Eric?’

‘
Ja
, it’s me.’ Eric’s German accent sounded slurred.

Jessica leaned forward from what felt like an uncomfortable pile of metal chains; looking back, she saw that’s exactly what she’d been resting against.
No wonder my back hurts
. She rubbed the protruding ridges of her spine through her jumper and the T-shirt beneath.
I’m sure I was wearing a jacket
, she thought, suddenly feeling the icy chill in the air and glancing around before spying her coat close by. Picking it up, she shrugged into it and then stood up. Her head, still feeling battered and bruised like a boxer had been using it as a speedball, protested at the sudden movement and she almost vomited. The swaying motion of the vehicle didn’t help things and she was forced to grab onto a cargo net that hung down from some crates opposite. Stumbling forward, she navigated some obstacles before rounding the boxes and looking down at the slim form of Eric. The youthful German computer hacker, aka
das Gespenst
, the self proclaimed Ghost, held his head in his hands.

She dropped to her knees next to him. ‘Eric, are you okay?’

‘Apart from the mother of all headaches, yes.
Scheiße
, what did they do to us?’

‘I can’t remember, weren’t we in a monastery?’

‘
Ja
,
aua, scheiße
, my hard hurts.’

‘You mean head,’ Jessica said, unable to stop herself from correcting his English.

‘
Ja
.’

‘I think they injected us with something.’ Her memory was solidifying from its esoteric stupor. The sensation of lying on the floor and her hands being tied behind her back sprang to the forefront of her mind. ‘Yes, I remember now, they tied us up with cable ties, interrogated us, and then kept us under house arrest.’

Eric looked confused. ‘Weren’t we there for a few weeks?’

‘I think so.’ She tried to will the fog of her mind into chronological coherence. ‘Yes, or at least it seemed that long. So much for your
Da Muss Ich
, or Bic, or whatever he’s called.’

‘
Nein
,’ he said, lapsing into German, ‘
ich kann nicht glauben, er würde uns verraten
.’

‘You may not be able to believe it,’ Jessica sat down next to him and made herself comfortable as her mind cleared, ‘but betray us he did. If being held against our will for days on end with only weak gruel and stale water to sustain us hasn’t convinced you otherwise, I don’t know what will.’

Eric didn’t say anything for a while, most likely coming to terms with being let down by his idol. What did they say? To avoid disappointment, never meet your heroes, or something along those lines. It was sad but quite often true; people who could appear perfect from a distance would invariably turn out to possess the same myriad of flaws as everyone else, just in a different order and perhaps not as obviously apparent. No one was perfect, least of all those that courted fame and notoriety.
I should know
, Jessica reflected in a rare instance of critical introspection,
I’m supposedly famous; well, more notorious now, I suppose, and I’ve got flaws galore
.

‘I think they stuck a needle in my bum,’ Eric said.

Jessica couldn’t help but chortle at the remark, but she had to stop as it made her head pound. Now that he mentioned it, her left-hand buttock was a little sore. Reaching back she touched the area with tentative fingers. ‘Ouch –  yep, me too.’

The movement of the truck, which had settled back down into a smooth unimpeded ride, once more became uncomfortable as it audibly slowed and jolted over rough terrain, making them and everything around them shift and slide sideways. When the sensation of motion ceased, low voices could be heard conversing before the sound of the vehicle’s doors opening and closing reverberated through the rigid steel shell that enclosed them. More talking could be discerned, louder now, but still unintelligible to Jessica’s ears; whatever language they spoke it wasn’t German or English.

Behind them, on the other side of the double doors, clasps were unlatched and a metal bolt slid back. Jessica and Eric struggled upright as they prepared to confront their captors. One of the doors swung outward and the light of a torch aimed inside made them shield their eyes.

‘
Anhem mesteyqeza
,’ someone said in a guttural tongue, ‘
lekm athenyen, alekherwej
!’

Jessica and Eric looked at one another, mystified.