Chimera Code (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) (32 page)

It was nearing dawn.
Kirill stood behind the parapet, watching the sun come up over
some of the highest mountain peaks in Scotland, smoking a black
Russian cigarette and enjoying the experience immensely. The freshly
ground Columbian coffee, only adding to his pleasure.
A breeze stirred, and powder snow blew over his shoes.
He watched idly as black uniformed soldiers of Ramus’s
personal security detail, supervised the loading of the facility’s hi-tech
computer equipment into the cavernous belly of one of the Chinooks.
The other helicopter was preparing to take-off, large rotors spinning,
waiting to disappear to a secret location...
The comm. buzzed.
“Yes?”
“Are you ready? Have you ensured that everything has been
removed, the last two helicopters are waiting to leave?”
“All technical items and Chimera related equipment have already
been shipped to the mobile stealth facility. There is just the nuclear
device to arm - I will send two Assassins to carry this out.” Tobacco
stained teeth smiled in the glare of artificial lighting.
“Good. After all, we don’t want to leave your former masters
in Whitehall with anything to allow replication of our unique toy, eh,
Kirill? I assume that the individuals, who did not wish to join us, have
now been liquidated?”
“All, except one employee; but I’ve got two of our best Assassins
out tracking her down. But if they don’t find her, the explosion will.”
“Okay, Kirill - but you
make sure
she is found and dealt with.”
“I think the Scottish Government might be somewhat pissed
off when we set off this nuclear device. It was considered a great
compliment when the SAS chose to build their Arctic training centre
here.”
“Save your sentiment, Kirill. I could not care less about
governments and what they think. They can all go to hell, as far as
I’m concerned.”
“Has there been any word of Dillon’s whereabouts?
“Yes. You were quite right; he is heading straight for you.
He really must be stopped, although we have no idea of his exact
location. Maybe he’s come to find
you
, Kirill? Maybe he is still pissed
off with you for pulling that gun on him in Cornwall? Maybe he wants
to find out why you
didn’t die
? That would make for a very interesting
conversation, don’t you think?” There was a twisted mocking humour
in Ramus’s voice.
“I thought you said you would take care of him?”
“Oh, have no fear, Kirill. I’m working on it.”
The comm. cut. Kirill stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray
with measured aggression. All of a sudden it tasted like the, foul, dogend that it was.
Kirill spoke quickly into the Bluetooth headset attached to his
right ear, his voice carried an edge as sharp a Samurai’s sword. His
words direct and to the point, instructing the security guard at the
other end. “Go and get the device.” The guard disconnected, and Kirill
looked dispassionately around the room, gaze tracing the contours of
the furniture. Something was troubling him, a nervousness that made
him feel uneasy, even with trained Assassins and his personal security
guards surrounding him. Dillon wouldn’t get within a hundred metres
of him. Kirill laughed out loud, a deep hollow mocking laughter.
Two guards appeared outside Kirill’s apartment. “Take the
device down to level 8. Let me know when you are there, and I will
join you to arm it. If you value your life - you will ensure that the
maximum security is maintained at all times, do I make myself clear?”
Both guards nodded their understanding.
He pushed the button on the comm. A feminine voice at the
other end answered.
“Have you found her yet?”
“No, sir,” came the smooth purring voice.
“Well, put more people on it and damn well find her!” He failed
to hide his irritation and the tinge of urgency that had crept in to his
tone. He took a deep breath. The tension and acid re-flux, he was
experiencing, was making him feel nauseous. “I was given to believe
that Assassins were supposed to be the very best at seek and destroy?”
“That is correct, sir.”
Kirill cut the connection. He left his apartment, entering the
cool depths of the facility, heart pounding, and perspiration rolling
down his temples. Damn you to hell, Dillon, he thought.
Damn you.

Claudia Dax lay flat on her back inside the air-conditioning shaft,
a mass of multi-coloured wiring directly above her, a slender tablet
computer in her hand. The tears had gone; her mind working at full
throttle.

She knew the facility’s surveillance systems like the back of her
hand; after all, she had made it her business to familiarise herself with
every aspect of their programming. And, like all hackers, she had
found all of the weak spots, and had then written in her own private
backdoor - coding that had escaped the close scrutiny of the fail-safe
programmers and had allowed her access to...
everything
.

On the tablet’s screen, she looked out at the Chinooks, their
rotors idling, pilots awaiting their orders. She saw Kirill stub out his
cigarette, and she watched with tired and strained eyes as he spoke on
the comm and then leave his apartment to disappear back into the
facility. The tension was consuming her. And she knew: Knew that
she was waiting to die and there was no way that she would be able
to escape them - after all, where would she go? What would she do?

She was in the middle of nowhere.
Tears rolled down over her cheeks, flowing freely, and Claudia
despised herself for being weak, and her self-loathing turned to selfpity and she cried and cried, and then everything was suddenlylooking
out of control. And why was this happening to her?
She stopped crying. Wiping away the moisture from her eyes
with the sleeve of her pyjamas.
How long did she have?
Even if they were to realise that she had entered the air-con
system, it would take them hours to search all the vents and shafts.
After all, the facility was
huge
. And looking on the bright side, as she
had watched on the monitor, the majority of the Assassins had already
left on the earlier Chinooks.
“Maybe they would give up and all leave?”
Although she knew that was not an option.
She also knew that they would hunt her to the end...
Claudia closed her eyes for a moment, her mind in overdrive.
How was she going to turn this situation on its head? From being a
victim and the hunted, to being the predator and the hunter. But how
the hell was she going to do that?
And then it struck her.
Claudia started to crawl carefully along the ventilation shaft.
She suddenly had a purpose - a goal to attain...
She needed an edge, something to negotiate with.
And if she had copied the Chimera blueprints once, she could
surely do it again.

Kirill moved with the agility of a man half his age, his hands
working quickly and precisely, as he placed each explosive package
around the core of the facility. He moved with care, alert, the
automatic pistol he was carrying in his jacket pocket had the safety
catch slid to off. A reassurance against any unwelcome visitors, such
as, Jake Dillon...

Where was that annoying bastard? He mused.
He pushed the thought from his mind. Ten, one kilo packs of
hi-explosive, each with a detonator linked wirelessly to the mother of
all bombs. A small nuclear device - capable of vaporising the entire
facility and everything in it. The ten much smaller charges were there
merely for good measure.
Claudia Dax would wish the day that she had taken a bullet to
the head in preference to what was to come...
Kirill stood in the corridor and glanced down at the tablet
computer in his hand and the plan of the facility on the bright screen.
The complex had been dug out of the mountain and designed to
be impenetrable from attack by air or from the valley far below. He
attached one of the hi-explosive packages to an overhead beam, and
then moved on to the next location.
Finally, Kirill found himself in the main programming suites.
The power had been cut and all defence systems inoperable. The
mainframes and all systems were silent, cold and dead.
Kirill sighed.
The thought of Dillon niggled away at the back of his mind.
Ramus had underestimated the former army intelligence officer. He
had thought it an easy task to kill him, even with his Assassins doing
the dirty work. How wrong he had got that...
Moving to the main console, Kirill flicked a few switches. A panel
moved back silently on the side of the mainframe case; there were no
markings to show that the Chimera Programme was stored on the
now exposed hardrive. The slender black box slid free, was presented
to him, dull, totally unimpressive. He lifted it carefully, noting how it
made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up and bristle. He
placed it gently into the inside breast pocket of his jacket…
Then, Kirill placed the smallest and final hi-explosive inside the
mainframe. It locked in place and then blinked blue at him. He pulled
the tablet computer from the bottom of the case he was carrying.
He tapped in a series of digits on the screen; the menu opened up
immediately as Kirill tapped one of the icons. The screen turned into
a continuous waterfall of binary code, a never ending script, the final
detonation command sequence. Once delivered up to the mainframe,
the nuclear device would automatically count-down and no one could
stop it...
“Have you checked that everything is in place?”
“Yes, Professor Kirill. Everything is now ready, sir.”
He tapped the enter button, and synchronised all of the hiexplosive packs with the nuke. Confirmation was instantaneous.
Kirill nodded, placing the tablet computer back into his bag and
turning his back on the Chimera project suite. Turning his back on
the place he had worked and virtually lived and called home for the
last four years.
He patted his jacket pocket, saying out loud. “You will soon be
released from your black hole to roam free through every computer
on the planet. Soon, you will create a new
world
. A world where
politicians, the military, and even bankers will have no choice than
to answer to us.” Kirill’s top lip curled into a viscous condescending
snarl.
He met the two Assassins outside. Only one small six-seater
helicopter remained, that would be used to transport him and the
Assassins. He looked around nervously; checking that every last thing
was in place.
Soon.
Soon the sun would rise.
And with it, the top of the mountain.
“Any sign of her?”
“No. We think she is in the air-conditioning shafts. Should we go
and search them?”
“One of you go - take another look. But we don’t have much
time left. If you can’t locate her, we’ll have to let the explosion do the
job for us.”
Kirill swore, scratching the side of his unshaven face. His gaze
scanned the horizon and he calmed himself, slowed his heart-beat.
That Dax woman, was now holding him up; he should have been
gone by now, enjoying a glass of his favourite Champagne, served at
just the right temperature as the helicopter powered him away from
danger to Ramus’s stealth command ship.
The Assassin chosen to go and find Claudia Dax disappeared
back into the facility.
The rotors began to spin above his head as the helicopter fired
up. He climbed inside the cabin and nodded to the pilot.
“We will leave…” He checked his gold Rolex watch; “…in
exactly seven minutes, unless that woman is found sooner.”
The pilot nodded, and then went back to carrying out his preflight checks.

Dillon opened his eyes and lay staring at the canopy of vivid
green above him. Even though he had only had a few hours of much
needed sleep. He felt refreshed and rejuvenated.

Checking his watch, it was about half an hour to full sunrise.
Tatiana, who was just stirring, opened her eyes and saw Dillon looking
at her. “What?”

They had been cruising on the quad-bike for fifteen minutes,
heavy tyres thumping over rough tracks and twisting winding trails
like the hardiest off-roader. They had passed small herds of deer and
seen vistas of heather carpeting vast areas of land.

Dillon’s gaze, behind his goggles, fixed on the horizon ahead;
they were approaching the location of Kirill’s facility as indicated on
the map that the Priest had sent to him. He slowed his speed, the
stealth engine dying to just above a whisper.

Dillon rubbed thoughtfully at the stubble on his chin.
“What I want to find out is where the hell do the Assassins fit
into this puzzle? Where did they come from originally? What is it,
which makes them the way they are? And is it Kirill, or someone else,
controlling them?”
Tatiana shrugged. “They are highly trained killers, that’s certain.
And I have no doubt whatsoever, that the security services know far
more than they’re letting on.”
“There’s something very wrong here. They just don’t fit into the
picture, at all.”
Tatiana had taken off the black balaclava, was running her hands
through her hair, she nodded and said. “Perhaps they were part of the
plan; maybe the Assassins - and whoever gives the orders to them -
were simply trying to manipulate,
you
only. Not kill you, as we’ve been
thinking. Perhaps they knew that by pushing the right buttons, you
would respond and lead them to Ezra?”
“Perhaps,” said Dillon bitterly. Then he saw the tears in her eyes.
He twisted round on the quad-bikes saddle and gently wiped away
a tear from her cheek. “You know, Tats. He could still be alive you
know. Nothing is for certain.”
“I think we’re just kidding ourselves, don’t you?”
Dillon shrugged, and then said. “Come on, we’re nearly there.
We have to focus and I need you one hundred percent with me.”
“I wish we could have approached this place from the air,” she
sighed, glancing up through a seemingly endless valley that stretched
out in front of them.
“Well, it would have been a damn sight quicker to get here, that’s
for sure,” grumbled Dillon, kicking the quad into gear and spinning all
four tyres on the powerful machine away up the track.
Five minutes later and as they came to a halt on a high ridge, they
had their first sight of Kirill’s facility, or what was exposed of it, from
across the valley they had a clear view of the mountain opposite.