Chimera Code (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) (28 page)

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“Good,” said Alix. “This means that they’ll be too busy to see
us coming.”
“Maybe,” the Priest said looking through the binoculars again.
“We’ll just have to go see, won’t we?”
Alix smiled grimly from behind the black mask. “Now you’re
talking my language. Let’s go do the Lord’s work.”
“Alix, you’re now talking my language. The Lord will surely show
us the way.”
The Priest slipped the looped strap of the climb-assist unit
around his wrist. Made a last minute adjustment and ensured that the
device was tightly locked around the winch cable. He looked briefly at
Alix, and then pushed the tiny button to activate the servos, motors
whirred, and the next moment he was lifted up into the air, as the
device pulled itself up the thick winch cable.
The wind howled, snow had turned to sleet, lashing down in
torrential proportions. Alix stepped up to the basket, attached his
own device to the winch wire with a
click
. Its servos whirred as it
settled into place around the thick cable and a tiny red light flashed,
then went out. Alix slipped the looped strap around his wrist and
looked up into the darkness and the storm. The cable was slapping
around in the gusting wind, he swallowed hard, braced himself, and
a moment later he was on his way up the wire towards the winchhouse. The Priest was gone, swallowed up by the total blackness. As
he neared his destination, he looked down. Deep below, falling away
into nothingness, was a valley of snow covered rocks, a place where
nothing lived, nothing survived. Ever...
It would be a long, long fall... followed by a gravity induced
death.
Alix breathed deeply. He spotted the Priest up above him, he was
just below the winch-house, about to go inside through the trap door.
He nodded back at Alix, had his Glock 9mm pistol in his hand as he
disappeared up through and into the timber building.
Alix waited a moment before moving again, waited for the sound
of gun shots but only the howling wind was there with him, buffeting
his watering eyes as he soared up into the winch-house.

* * *

Kirill came awake suddenly, cursing the wounds that he had
received during his recent visit to his home in Cornwall. Dillon would
pay for not dying, as planned. His time would come, as sure as there
was fire in hell. He scowled as he ran a hand through his hair and
sighed softly. He got out of bed, stood up, stretched his arms up
above his head, and then headed for the wet-room. He could smell
himself, his own body stink from a restless, sweaty, sleep.

Kirill hated feeling dirty. Hated the thought that his body had
produced such a sour odour. The comm buzzed. Kirill halted, caught
between the need to wash the stink from his skin and the need to
answer the internal comm; he knew that it would be important. It had
to be important, for someone to invade his personal time. A lot of
bad stuff was currently going down. “Damn.” He walked back to his
office space, reached his desk, and pushed the comm button. “Yes?”

Outside, beyond the false environment of his apartment and the
cam-link images of the highland landscape, the extreme weather from
the previous evening had blown itself out, and the sun was rising over
the mountain range. Golden light danced across the distant snowcapped peaks, wind lifted fresh powder snow in waves, rolling down
the sheer slopesto fade away through the cloud base. But on this sourtasting morning the incredible and magical sight of dawn delivered via
high-definition optics did little to calm Kirill’s sense of foreboding.

“Ezra is dead.”
“Good. What about Dillon and the girl?”
“Dillon and the girl are another problem.”
“So the Assassins failed to terminate them?”
“I’m afraid it is much worse than that; Dillon is now much

more informed, has now experienced the Assassins on two separate
occasions - and survived. Most disturbing of all, is that I think he has
discovered what the missing link is. That it is required to complete the
Chimera Programme.”

“Does he know that I am still alive?”
“It is a possibility,” said Ramus softly.
“I want that bastard dead,” said Kirill. “And I want him dead right

now!” Kirill’s voice had suddenly risen to become almost hysterical.

He stood, sweating profusely, his heart pounding in his chest, hands
slippery against the polished quartz top of his desk.
“Calm yourself,” said Ramus, his voice low.
“I’ll calm myself when Dillon is well and truly dead,” hissed

Kirill.
“Now, now you are forgetting yourself,” whispered Ramus, his
voice easy, like a razor sharp blade cutting through soft skin tissue.
Kirill paused then; he caught the sinister undercurrent of danger
in Ramus’ voice. You did not fuck with Ramus.
He curbed his tongue. He closed his eyes for a brief moment,
and then said, forcing his voice back into its more usual urbane tone
which completely contradicted his present lack of civility. “What
I mean to point out, is that Dillon has proved himself to be an
extremely capable adversary - an extremely dangerous and well trained
individual. He has outsmarted and out-paced both the Assassins and
ourselves all the way to Santorini and beyond. If he knows that I am
alive then he may come to find me. You didn’t see him in Cornwall,
Ramus; I have never seen a man move so fast - kill so many. It was like
being in a bad dream with no way out. It was
terrifying
.”
“Kirill, your priority now is to move quickly towards the
completion of Chimera. Nothing else is important. We have twentyfour hours, and then we start the process. Mr Dillon is my problem
and I can assure you that I do not intend to fuck about with this man.
Terrifying
or not.” The heavy sarcasm could not be missed.
Kirill paused. Some of his earlier composure had returned and
he cursed himself; he had displayed weakness. And to Ramus of all
people... But Kirill could still remember Dillon’s white hot bullet
drilling into his body, a manoeuvre so fast he had seen nothing: merely
wondered why the hell he was lying on his back with blackness quickly
descending upon him...
“Twenty-four hours? When Ezra jumped over that cliff to his
certain death on Santorini. He took with him the last piece to the
Chimera jigsaw puzzle. The programme is ninety-five percent ready.
And that is where it is likely to remain - short of a miracle. Operative
but not fully effective...”
“Your people will just have to work harder, then. Won’t they?”
There it was again, that razor edge to Ramus’ words; the implicit
challenge to Kirill’s authority was there. “The majority of your people
are with us; but there is a hard-core element who do not know when
they are being offered a once in a life-time opportunity. The days of
an orderly and calm world are numbered - if they will not join us, they
will die. Along with anyone one else who dare to oppose us.”
“Ramus, may I ask why there is such urgency? We are simply not
ready yet...”
“You may. Ezra is dead; but the Chimera blueprint has not been
recovered. And as we speak, Ezra’s body has also not been recovered.
If Scorpion or Ferran & Cardini have copies of those blueprints, they
could write an identical Chimera Programme to challenge us - the
difference being, that their virus will be smarter than ours because it
will be able to run at one-hundred percent efficiency. Our plans would
not stand any chance of success, Kirill, not a damned hope in hell.
We need to be strong! Assertive! And we can’t do that until every last
remnant of Scorpion and Ferran & Cardini has been erased.” Ramus
sighed through the microphone of the comm. “Just get on with the
task, Kirill: twenty-four hours. You know what the alternative is... All
of your equipment is to be transferred to my stealth ship; even as we
speak, everything except what you and your team will need to work
with, is being transported by my fleet of helicopters and moved to a
temporary secure facility awaiting my arrival.”
Kirill ground his teeth hard. Ramus had no right to talk to him
in this way, after all, they were supposed to be equals, and after a
moment of awkward silence, he said, simply. “I’ll start right away.”
He cut the connection and stood, stunned, gazing at the large wall
mounted monitor, which showed the snow-capped mountain range
of the Scottish Highlands.
He could sense them; sense the programmers, from basic right
up to level one - the highest, the analysts, the coders, the hackers -
sense them all around, below and above him. All of them going about
their duties, some of
them
will see another Highland dawn break -
some of
them
would not...
We know who you are and where you are, he thought.
And those bureaucratic buffoons in Whitehall, who had placed
Scorpion on such a high pedestal, only for it to be knocked off so
easily, was to be their ultimate weapon against global terrorism.
Your time has come.
Oh, how I have waited for this moment, he thought, his mind
rethreading the path of time, retracing years and decades. Visions
resurrected in his mind; resurrected, re-visited, and buried again.
Kirill remembered the time he had defected to the west, and the many
murders that were carried out because of his actions.
You are all finished. Almost finished, he thought.
And yes. We will
take
control.
But first? First we must ensure that those who oppose us are
taken out of the equation.

* * *

The A-25M flying boat banked gently, gaining altitude as it
approached the mountainous regions of the Scottish Highlands. Vast
and wild, and still an adventure.

Tatiana gazed down at the mountains, the narrow crevasses
and rocky gullies, the deep depressions, some filled with the freshest
crystal clear water of the mountain streams, the occasional herd of
deer on the lower slopes casting their gaze upwards and scattering
as the small aircraft droned low overhead, below the prying radar.
Tatiana spotted lone shepherd huts and the occasional village; as they
made their way through valleys and over snow-capped peaks and the
further north they went, the colder it became and the harsher the
landscape appeared.

Dillon shifted in his seat, groaning with the effort of the
movement.
“How are you feeling?” Asked Tatiana.
“Like a piece of tenderised meat. Beaten black and blue to within
an inch of its life.”
“Much pain?”
“I’ve had worse,” said Dillon.
“Well, I’ll give you a shot of painkiller when we touch down, just
to take the edge off. I think you’ll probably be stiff for a few weeks.”
“What’s new. It’s an occupational hazard.” Dillon gazed out of
his side window, down at the mountains, the thought of his home
being not far away, a tempting proposition as a stop-off. He rubbed
the back of his head, mind spinning, confused after recent events. He
glanced across at Tatiana - who was staring down at the landscape
flowing like a river below them.
“How about you, Tats? Are you okay?”
Tatiana did not turn, her gaze fixed on some distant non-existent
point.
“I’m fine.” Her voice was cold.
He reached over and took her hand and squeezed her warm
flesh.
“I’m sorry about Ezra - what he did was brave and selfless. He did
it to protect his people, his facility. But most of all, he did it because he
knew what would happen if the content of that optical disc fell into
the hands of the enemy. He was the key to their success - and their
failure. He also knew that by sacrificing himself, he would be giving
us more time and slow down their progress finishing the Chimera
scripts... If this terrorist Ramus is in league with professor Kirill, he
obviously wants that programme running perfectly, and obviously has
big plans for it. And
if
it really can take down the mainframes and
networks of every major banking and finance institution around the
globe, as Ezra said, then...”
“If?”
Dillon shrugged. “Sounds too far-fetched to me. But
if
it can
- then whoever controls such a weapon, for that is what it is - will
become extremely powerful and, in the process, wealthy beyond
comprehension.”
“There’s more to it than that, Dillon.”
“Dillon frowned.”
“This programme - the blueprints that I saw when it was in
its infancy of inception: they were mind-blowing. If it became fully
operational in the wrong hands - it could completely re-map and take
over the banking world. It would fuck-up every stock market around
the planet. But more than that, it would worm its way into every
computer in every government computer system, and it would not
discriminate. It learns on the run, intuitively adapting itself, making
itself invisible. But remains there, inside, waiting for the command.
The command to terminate. Chimera is the ultimate weapon that will
be in control of every weapon’s system in existence...” Tatiana rubbed
taut muscles in the back of her neck, in an attempt to ease the tension.
“Don’t you see, Jake. Everything is computerised and connected
to the biggest highway in the universe. The Internet. Everything...”
“A sobering thought, wouldn’t you say?” Dillon said with a brief
sideways glance.
“Oh yes, it’s sobering alright, Dillon.”
She glanced back at him, her eyes red-rimmed. “I was really quite
fond of Ezra, you know. Even though we didn’t always see eye-to-eye.
He was an impressive man, who made the ultimate sacrifice because
he knew it would give us more time. He knew that it would give
you
more time but…”
“…but?”
“I can’t help thinking there is something out of place.”
“Like the Assassins?”
“Yes.”
Dillon smiled grimly. “If we find who has resurrected this age
old society of killers, we find out who is manipulating Kirill, and the
Chimera Programme. And we know that the same person is the one
who’s been systematically destroying the Scorpion network and killing
the assault teams.”
Tatiana merely nodded, and Dillon reached over and stroked
her cheek, wiping away the tears. “We’ve got to stay focused, Tats.
This conversation has got to keep for later,” he said. “Ezra was a
master of deception, How do we know, he might have even faked his
own death.” His words just slipped out, even Dillon knew that only
a miracle would have saved Ezra from a messy death. But it had to
be said, silence was not a good option, and Tatiana had to be looked
after. Talking made it easier for her hurt to feel better...
Tatiana remained silent. She simply gazed back out of the
window but her fingers took Dillon’s hand and squeezed gently. He
said no more but she knew that he was there. There for her...
Dillon smiled inwardly.
I wonder just how lethal this Chimera Programme really is. He
thought, as he banked to the right and the A-25M responded to his
touch.
And more importantly, who is it wanting to unleash its power
to gain world-wide computer dominance? It could be this terrorist,
Ramus - or it wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibility if a
government were involved or behind him...
The face of Kirill floated into his mind; he remembered that
chilling smile, and the ice cold look in the man’s dark eyes. He had
believed; believed in his actions, without a hint of insanity. He would
have killed Dillon there and then in Cornwall, and not thought twice
about it...
You bastard, Dillon thought.
But then - that was far too easy. Kirill was not in charge; he
was merely one of the monkies, dancing to the tune of the organ
grinder. Someone much bigger, more powerful and altogether much
more intimidating. Somebody who wanted Scorpion out of the way
- destroyed... But Scorpion had been almost invisible, only those
seconded to Scorpion, a hand full of Ferran & Cardini personnel, and
the Prime Minister’s office knew about the special anti-terrorist task
force. It’s terrorist clean-up operations had been so successful that the
world-wide press had started to ask questions as to
who
it was behind
the termination of some of the worst terrorists of modern times. But
security had held and secrecy had remained in place.
Realisation came like a bolt out of the blue.
It had to be somebody on the inside.
It had to be somebody at the top of Scorpion - Ferran & Cardini
- the Prime Minister’s office.
Betrayal...
Treason...
Words that went completely against everything Dillon believed
in.
Every now and then, he looked over at Tatiana, who was now
sleeping, snuggled inside her parka hood, which was pulled up around
her face for added warmth. Vince was still snoring loudly in the back
of the cabin, and Dillon had never felt so alone in all his life; as he
flew the small amphibious aircraft through picturesque vallies. He
gazed out of his side window at a clear blue sky, the sun glinting off
of the fast moving white water rapids a hundred feet below them.
After another mile, Dillon spotted what he had been looking for. A
loch, remote enough not to have hoards of sight-seeing tourists, and
just long enough to allow him to land safely. He brought the A-25M
in at the far end of the loch, skimming over the surface of the water,
the aircraft becoming heavier and heavier, until it was able to power
through the still water and up onto a small sandy beach.
The others awoke, coming round from their slumber as he
touched down. Once he had scuffed the skids up onto the beach, he
didn’t waste any time releasing the cabin door and struggling with stiff
aching joints and muscles, to descend the ladder. Tatiana and Vince
followed. All of them stretching away the tension as they stepped
down onto the wet sand, enjoying the fresh mountain air after the
staleness of the cabin.
Vince plundered his rucksack, bringing out a small Primus stove
and set about boiling a pan of water for a brew of tea. Tatiana sat
down on a large rock nearby, gazing out across the expanse of the
loch, and Dillon walked up the beach and back again, looking around
warily.
“If that tea takes any longer to brew, I’ll die of thirst here mate.”
“You always were an impatient man, Jake Dillon. These aren’t
teabags full of floor dust, you know. What I’m brewing here, is the
finest Indian leaves that money can buy. And the proof will be in the
tasting, mate.” He looked up at Dillon, handing him a steaming hot
tin mug of the fresh brew.
Dillon took a sip, and looking over the rim of his mug, “Not bad
for an Australian.” The big man smiled good humouredly and handed
Dillon another cup, which he took across to where Tatiana was sitting.
“I don’tlike it. Why have we put-down here? We could be spotted
from any one of those mountains, sitting ducks for the taking.” Her
words were spoken with little emotion, or even a glance up at Dillon.
“To be honest, Tats. I needed a break, I’m not a fucking robot,
you know. Have you ever seen what happens to a light aircraft when
the pilot nods off. And anyway, anyone could have heard the sound of
an aircraft engine for miles around, that’s why I chose this particular
loch to land it on. This area is uninhabited. No villages, no crofters,
nobody for miles around.”
“How long do we stay here?”
“About an hour and a few more cups of tea. And maybe then
I’ll be ready to take on the mountains and valleys again. I only hope
that we can make Kirill’s facility in time to meet up with the others.”
“The Priest is with them. They’ll be there, okay.” Tatiana got up
off of the rock that she had been sitting on and stood staring directly
at Dillon for a moment, and then said, “Coming up here will not have
been for nothing, you know, Dillon?”
“I’m glad to hear it, Tats. Because since you arrived back in my
life, I’ve been shot at, stabbed, almost blown-up, my home has been
trashed, and I’ve never flown so far in such an uncomfortable aircraft.
All because of this bastard, Kirill...”
“Kirill is the key to everything that has happened, and he is at
the end of all this.”
“Is he really going to have
all
of the answers?” Asked Vince.
“Only if I ask the right questions and apply just the correct level
of pain,” said Dillon. He paced up and down the beach for a while. All
the time thoughts about his present situation running freely through
his tired mind.
Tatiana went over to where Vince was now watching over his
pan of boiling water. “You okay, Tatiana?”
“I’m fine, Vince. Thank you for asking. But it’s Dillon, he’s
changed so much. Do you think he’s okay?”
“I could say that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him. But
like you, I’m seeing a Jake Dillon that I’ve not seen for a while. Of
course, it could be that this whole affair is moving along at such a
fast pace, and the killing is so prolific, that he’s having to think on his
feet - on the run, so to speak. Or, it might be his
old
problem showing
itself once again!”
“Old problem?”
“You of all people must know?”
“Haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about. Talk to me, Vince.”
“How do you think he’s stayed alive all these years? Skill, instinct,
experience. Well, I suppose you could call it all of those rolled in
together. But something changes inside his brain when he’s under
extreme pressure.”
“Such as?”
“He kills people. Usually with exceptional ease.” Vince said, as
he poured more boiling hot water into the small teapot.
“But, that’s what he has been trained to do.”
“Yes that’s true. But part of the reason why he came up here to
Scotland, was to get away from all the killing. That last assignment
he was given for instance; remember the one? The stolen Vermeer
painting, Charlie Hart on Sandbanks. We should all remember
it, because that assignment turned out to be one of the biggest
smuggling operation busts - ever. Afterwards, Jake told me that it had
turned into a blood-bath at the house near Lyme Regis. But, that as
he was killing each and every one of those men sent to
kill
him. He
felt nothing, actually found himself enjoying the killing so much, that
it eventually felt like he was watching from afar. Affected him really
badly, and then that Issy went and left him. Well, that was the last
straw, it had all took its toll, to the point, where he had to get off the
Ferran & Cardini International merry-go-round for a while. Or, in his
own words, go completely mad. Personally, I still feel that he made the
right decision, and I’m glad he got out. It saved him, Tatiana. Saved
him from himself... We’ve kept in touch over the last year or so, and
that’s why I’ve been able to keep an eye on him. Make sure that he
didn’t become a candidate for a stay at a secure unit.”
“I had no idea, Vince.”
“Well, it’s not something that you shout about from the rooftops, is it. You and I are the only people who know about this. So let’s
make sure it stays that way. Okay?”
“Absolutely okay, Vince.”
“He might also be a bit twitchy about flying illegally the entire
route from Santorini. If we had been caught flying through airspace
where we’d not got clearance... We could have got into some major
trouble.
“It’s a good thing that Dillon stayed below five-hundred feet,
then.”
“What’s that about staying below five-hundred feet?” Dillon said
gruffly.
“Oh, nothing. I was just saying to Vince, that we’re going to have
to stay covert.”
“Easy to say. I’m the idiot who has to weave that aircraft between
those mountains. Vince, how are we doing for fuel?”
“With the extra fuel tanks that we installed, we’ve got plenty to
get to Kirill’s facility, and then enough to get us out again.”
Dillon nodded, and sat down on a near-by rock beside Tatiana.
He said, rubbing his eyes, “I suggest we get going soon. How far away
from Kirill’s facility are we?”
Tatiana, picked up the e-map reader beside her and tapped a
point on the map. “We’re presently about a hundred miles south
of the facility. As long as we stay low - and lucky for us there’s not
that many inhabitants in this area - then we can carry on skirting up
through the valleys, to the northern most mountain range, and our
final destination. We’ll be able to head for the co-ordinates Ezra gave
to me on Santorini, just before the Assassins attacked...” Tatiana’s
voice trailed off. She glanced at Dillon whose eyes were closed, his
face stony. “How long will it take us to get there, Jake?”
Dillon opened his eyes, “I can have us there within an hour, but
from here on in it’s going to be a much harder ride; there’s definitely a
military stealth presence, although I’m not entirely sure why, probably
a legacy from the old SAS training centre that is now part of Kirill’s
complex. We’ll stick out like a sore thumb, of course, and the area
around the complex will be a no fly zone, especially as we’re not
exactly flying any official colours or markings. This A-25M is Russian
built and will be quite happy flying low over land as well as water,
but everything will have to be done more cautiously. And here’s the
real peach, I’m not used to flying in such unfamiliar and treacherous
terrain.”

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