Nano (13 page)

41

It was clear from the scanners in Steph and Chloe's cybersuits that the emergency exit in the southeast corner of the floor was inaccessible. The explosion of the gas tank had completely devastated that section of Floor 202. In fact, one entire corner of the Tower on Floors 201 and 202 had been destroyed.

They began to pick their way over to the southwest emergency stairs but it was hard going, the floor was strewn with rubble and the overhead water extinguishers had come on automatically, drenching everything. Loose electrical cables were thrashing around and sparking in the water. This did not present any real danger to Steph or Chloe – their suits would protect them from any random electrical currents – but the puppy, whom they had immediately christened ‘Lucky', could have been fried by just one stray wire.

By the time they reached the end of the row of shops on the south side of the Tower they found the water had drained away. A few metres on and they were walking along a raised concrete area. Mud from shattered plant pots was splattered everywhere, great streaks of it lay across the concrete. Mixed with the mud were shreds of paper, slithers of glass and torn clothing. It was slippery and treacherous. They took it slowly, reaching the staircase a couple of minutes later.

Chloe tried the door. It was locked. Steph stepped for- wards, extended the vector laser and pointed it at the lock. A quick burst of blue light shot out from the device and the lock melted. She gave the door a swift kick and it flew inwards.

A huge burst of flame shot out from the doorway. Steph stumbled back and managed to break her fall on a shattered leather chair that had found its way into the mall from one of the shops. Chloe was less than a metre behind her and sidestepped the flame with ease.

Steph pulled herself up and glanced at her wrist screen. ‘Bugger!' she exclaimed. ‘The fire goes way back into the stairwell and it's very hot – over 1000 degrees centigrade. No way we can get through there.'

‘Okay. So what now?'

A voice broke through their comms. ‘Steph? Chloe?'

‘It's Mark,' Chloe said. ‘Big Mac?'

‘We're hovering above the roof,' the leader of E-Force said.

‘Status?'

The two women filled him in.

‘All right. We've just done a scan of the entire upper floors of the building. There're no life signs on 200 or 201. People have gathered on Floor 199.'

‘I could use the Hopjet to get down there,' Steph said.

‘But how would you get any survivors back up to the roof?'

No one spoke for a moment. Then Chloe said, ‘I'll get back up to the helipad, pick up the Cage and come down here. I should be able to break a way through to 199 and get everyone up to 202.'

Mark didn't respond for a moment. Steph and Chloe could hear him tapping at his control panel. Dimitri said something to him but the two women in the tower could not quite make it out.

‘All right,' Mark said eventually. ‘It's a plan. We can't land on the roof . . . too unstable for the weight of the Big Mac but, Chloe, we can lower the Cage down to you. Steph? You have everything you need?'

‘Yes.'

‘Right then, ladies. Good luck.'

‘Oh, one more thing, Mark. We have our first survivor.'

‘Who?'

Chloe explained and Mark laughed down the line. ‘Okay,' he said. ‘I'll prep a carrier for the little fella.'

42

72 metres beneath the English Channel

‘Holy shit!' Adam Franklin croaked. Josh looked at him, the banker's face was pale and lined with anguish. ‘What . . .?'

‘He must have breathed in a lethal dose. He was a long way behind us,' Josh replied quietly. ‘Anyone feeling ill?'

No one spoke. Josh looked into each of their faces. ‘Gabir,' he said. ‘What's the layout of the tunnels?'

Gabir's face had drained of blood. ‘Er . . .' He took a deep breath. ‘Er . . . it's quite simple. Um . . . Two tunnels. One from Paris to London travelling northwest, the other, London to Paris, heads southeast. There are connections between the tunnels, cross-passages, every 350 metres.'

‘Is this a cross-passage?' Josh asked urgently.

‘Unfortunately, I think not,' Gabir went on, gradually regaining his composure. ‘The major connectors are wide corridors and they, er . . . run straight.'

‘So where
are
we?'

Gabir ran a hand through his thick curly hair and took another deep breath. ‘As I said before. We must be in one of the maintenance hubs.'

‘Which are?'

‘Every couple of kilometres there's a network of interlinking passages and rooms but they don't cross over to the other tunnel. They contain equipment and spare parts for workmen, emergency tools and materials, that sort of thing.'

‘Ah.'

‘Well, I guess we can't complain,' Fred Hardy commented. ‘We're lucky we got out.'

‘You're right, Fred,' Josh responded. ‘It's just that our best chance would have been to get to the London–Paris tunnel. All right, come on. We have to get as far away from the main tunnel as possible. See what we can find in this maintenance hub that can help us.'

Josh and Gabir took the lead. Louis Chabon gave the body of the dead barman a wide berth, crossing himself as he went. The others slipped past the corpse without looking down.

The corridor narrowed and wove northeast in the direction of the Paris-bound tunnel. It was a well-lit, featureless passageway with a metal floor and curved concrete walls. About 100 metres from the hatch they had earlier escaped through, they came to a door. Josh turned the handle and it opened inwards. Gabir switched on the light.

It was a large, low-ceilinged room. A single fluorescent strip juddered into life overhead. Deep metal shelves took up two entire walls. Most of the shelf space was filled with boxes, metal containers and lumpy pieces of machinery. At the far end stood another door and next to that a phone hung on a wall bracket.

Josh ran over to the phone and put the receiver to his ear. There was a dial tone. He studied a laminated sheet pinned to the wall to the left of the phone. There was a list of names, official titles in English and French and next to each, four-digit numbers. ‘Well, maybe there really is a God,' he said and grinned at the others.

Gabir approached. ‘Best call Central Control,' he said. ‘They're based at Sangatte, just where the Paris–London entrance goes underground. They have emergency services based there. Here, let me.' The steward ran a finger down the laminated card, took the receiver and keyed in the number 5447.

‘Bonjour . . . hello, anyone there?' he said.

‘Bonjour,' a voice replied.

Gabir switched to speaker mode. ‘Is that Sangatte?' he said in English.

‘It is. You've reached Emergency Services, Sangatte. Who is this? You're calling from Maintenance Hub 3. There's been an incident –'

‘Yes, I know that,' Gabir replied. ‘We were part of it.'

‘Please clarify.'

‘My name is Gabir. I'm a Eurostar steward, number 1246F. Repeat, 1246F.'

‘Hold please.'

A pause, a crackle down the line and the voice returned. ‘Gabir. What is your situation, please?'

‘I'm one of six survivors I know about. We believe there was a nerve gas attack at –'

‘Nerve gas? What do you mean?'

Gabir drew breath and gave Josh an exasperated look. He nodded to the phone. ‘Do you want me to . . .?'

The steward looked around at the other four survivors. Fred and Tracy had lowered themselves to the floor with their backs to the wall. They both looked exhausted. Louis was pacing up and down the length of the room, sweating profusely and limping. It was only then Gabir noticed how damned hot the place was. He caught Adam Franklin's eye. The Englishman took a deep breath and looked away.

‘Hello?' Josh said close to the phone wall unit.

‘Who am I speaking to?' The voice rang out across the room.

‘This is Josh Thompson, formerly of E-Force.' There was a silence from the other end. ‘I was a passenger on the train,' he added. ‘I'm here with Gabir and four others: Adam Franklin, Louis Chabon, Fred and Tracy Hardy. There was an explosion. The train was stopped in the tunnel. The roof has caved in. But much worse is the use of a nerve gas. I think it is probably Sarin but it could be one of half –'

‘Mr Thompson. We're just checking our manifest . . .'

‘Manifest . . . why?'

‘How do you know there was a nerve gas attack?'

‘Because I saw dozens of people collapse and die. One of the people who escaped with us to Maintenance Hub 3 has since died. The symptoms were textbook.'

The man at the end of the phone line seemed to be talking to several other people at once. The voices sounded urgent. Josh could hear a buzzing across the connection.

‘Hello?' he said.

‘Mr Thompson. We are on Red Alert. Emergency Services have been activated. You are now in the main storage room for Hub 3. Are you aware that it does not, I repeat, does not, link up with the Paris-bound tunnel?'

‘Yes, Gabir explained.'

‘The services at the English end – at Folkestone – are pulling back the only other train in the tunnel at this time, the 07.22 from St Pancras that was about 5 kilometres into the tunnel. Now we suggest you remain where you are. You'll understand our rescue efforts will be very complex and difficult. We may not be able to reach you for some time. However, you couldn't have ended up in a better place. You'll find food supplies and water, blankets, spare clothing and a washroom in the Hub. But we strongly advise you not to leave the centre of the Hub where you are now located.'

The others could all hear the words of the Emergency Services Manager at the far end of the line. Louis started searching through the shelves. Fred had his arm around Tracy. Adam was now sitting on the floor, his back to the wall, his head rested on his knees, his fingers in his hair.

‘Thanks,' Josh replied and closed his eyes for a moment. ‘We'll stay by the phone. Please keep us updated.'

He hung up and looked at Gabir. ‘I'm not sitting here a minute longer,' he said.

Gabir smiled. ‘Just as well this is a cordless phone, that I happen to know is designed to operate throughout the Hub,' he replied, unhooking it from the cradle and handing it to Josh.

43

The air was hot down in the Hub and they were wreathed in sweat. Louis was still poking around the shelves, pulling out containers and checking inside.

‘Anything interesting?' Adam asked, coming up behind the Frenchman.

Louis was startled. ‘No, er . . . no. Well, unless, monsieur, you call spare light bulbs and batteries interesting.'

Adam exhaled through his nostrils. ‘They said there was some food and drink.'

‘There is,' Tracy said from across the room. She had pulled down a metal container about 60 centimetres square and removed the lid. ‘Looks absolutely delicious!' She lifted a packet of dried wheat biscuits and a sealed bag of what looked like stewed peas.

‘Typical Eurostar,' Fred quipped.

‘How's everyone feeling?' Josh asked after a few moments. ‘Up to a walkabout?'

‘Do you think that's wise?' Louis asked. ‘What about the Sarin?'

‘I don't intend on going back out to the London-bound tunnel. But we can't just sit here.'

‘I agree,' Adam commented.

‘Stay here if you wish, Louis,' Josh said.

The Frenchman looked doubtful for a moment, then shrugged.

The door close to the telephone at the end of the room led to another corridor. This curved right, then left. There were two locked doors on the left. The corridor split. To the right, it disappeared into darkness. Straight ahead, it widened onto a well-lit, freshly painted corridor. They headed along this second passage, until they came to a large metal door, a thick steel bolt drawn across the front. Josh went to shift it.

‘Do you think we should be doing that?' Adam asked.

‘I take it you
do
want to get out?'

‘Yes but –'

‘Give me a hand then.'

They shoved the bolt to one side and the door swung open. They were immediately hit by the noise. The door was about five centimetres thick and had kept the sound in.

‘Wait here a second,' Josh shouted to the others and step- ped inside. Directly ahead lay a stretch of metal floor about 2 metres wide. On the far side, the floor fell away into a deep shaft. About 4 metres down Josh could see the blades of a huge turbine. They were rotating very fast, scything the air. Above his head, the opening stretched up into the darkness.

‘One of the main air-conditioning turbines for the tunnel, right?' Gabir yelled as Josh returned to the group at the door.

‘Looks like it. Air is being sucked in from a shaft above it. That may be linked to the surface at Sangatte or Folkestone. It forces the air down and into the tunnel. No chance of the nerve agent coming back up.'

‘Can we go?' Tracy said, hands to her ears, a pained expression on her face.

Josh nodded.

They left the door slightly ajar and ran on along the corridor towards an archway up ahead.

The phone rang in Josh's hand. They all stopped and he pushed the receive button. ‘Josh Thompson.'

‘Unbelievable!'

‘Is that Mai? God! Great to hear your voice.'

‘You just can't keep away from calamities, can you?'

‘It would seem so,' he laughed. ‘But God, this is the best news I've had all day. Where are you? What's the plan?'

‘The Emergency Services at Sangatte contacted us,' Pete replied.

‘Pete . . . fantastic!'

‘Hi mate. Good to speak to you. Just wish it was under better circumstances. We've hooked our comms into the landline at Sangatte.'

‘Very clever.'

‘Listen,' Mai said, her voice dropping several tones. ‘You probably haven't heard.'

‘Heard what?'

She told him about the attack in Dubai.

‘My God!' Josh exclaimed. The others in the room looked at him anxiously. Louis stepped over.

‘What's up?' Fred asked.

‘Hang on, Mai.' Josh flicked a switch on the handset, turning back to speaker mode. He turned to the others. ‘There's been a terrorist attack on the Cloud Tower in Dubai.' They looked suitably shocked. Then they all started talking at once. Josh held up a hand. ‘Just a moment. We can get the details later. Let's sort ourselves out first, yeah?'

Adam was closest to Josh. He nodded and turned away.

‘So you're fully stretched,' Josh said to Mai and Pete.

‘Could say that. But look, Josh, we'll get you guys out of there.'

‘How?' Tracy said loudly, desperation in her voice.

‘Who's that?' Pete asked.

‘My name's Tracy Hardy,' the girl replied. She looked like she was on the verge of panic. ‘This Maintenance Hub, or whatever you call it. It goes nowhere. And, we can't go back . . .'

‘Listen, Tracy,' Mai said down the line, her voice sounding tinny through the little speaker. ‘We
will
get you all out. We have some very special equipment. But you have to try to stay calm. You're absolutely fine at the moment, yes?'

‘Yes.'

‘The Emergency Services said you were in the Hub with plenty of food and water. The air is fresh?'

‘Yes.'

‘There are six of you, right?' Pete said.

‘Correct,' Josh replied. ‘There's Gabir, one of the stewards on the train. Adam Franklin from London, Louis Chabon from Paris and two youngsters – Tracy Hardy, who you just spoke to, and her brother Fred, both Brits. Is that right?' he added, turning to the kids.

‘Yeah.'

‘Okay, well, we're now 3 minutes away from Sangatte. We've been liaising with the Emergency Team there and it seems the best plan is for us to get into the London–Paris tunnel and then cut our way through to you from there.'

‘How far apart are the tunnel and the end of this Hub at the closest point?' Josh asked.

‘We're not sure yet. The BigEye can't see down that far. According to the authorities at Sangatte, you're about 72 metres under the English Channel. We'll only know what we're up against when we get down there.'

‘You have design plans for the tunnel?' Adam asked.

‘You must be Adam,' Mai said.

‘That's right.'

‘There are plans. Our computer guy is working on it.'

Josh took a deep breath. ‘How is Tom?'

A pause. ‘Yeah, he's good. Couldn't believe it when we told him we'd discovered you had been on the train.'

‘Couldn't you come down the London-bound tunnel where the incident occurred?' Louis interrupted.

‘Hi Louis?' Pete responded. ‘I'm afraid that's not the best option. We're worried about containment and the structural stability of the tunnels.'

‘What do you mean?'

Josh sighed. ‘What they mean, Louis, is that if they start charging their way through the tunnel where the train stopped, they could breach the walls between us and the tunnel and the Sarin would then seep through to this Maintenance Hub.'

‘Ah.'

‘It may be we have to go into the London-bound tunnel, guys, but we have to try the safer option first,' Pete said. ‘So just sit tight. We'll be there as soon as we possibly can.'