Warhead (28 page)

Carter looked down. He found it hard to meet Roxi’s gaze.

‘You’re looking well, Carter,’ she said finally. She took a step closer. Carter could smell her musk but he did not look up. How could he? He was expected to kill everybody in this room within a few short hours ...

‘I’ve felt fucking better,’ he drawled.

‘You’re like fine wine. You mature with age.’ Roxi was closer now, almost touching him. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she murmured.

‘And I you.’

‘When I saw you in Greece, you said that you still loved me. You told me that we may one day be together—in another lifetime. Well Carter, this is another lifetime.’

Carter closed his eyes. Roxi kissed him, and he did not pull away. He allowed himself to become lost. He allowed himself to be taken and her hand slid around his back, rested against the base of his spine with an infinity of hesitant intimacy. Her tongue probed his, her lips a tantalising silk that teased his own with their delicacy; and then, finally, Carter opened his eyes and slowly pulled back—the upper part of his body, but her hand held their hips together in a tight embrace.

‘Yeah, you definitely missed me,’ he smiled. But it was a smile laced with uncertainty.

‘We have the benefits of distance on our side. We have both made mistakes in the past. We have both made
many
mistakes; but the end of the world is coming for us, Carter, I can feel it. I can feel it in my bones, and now is not a time for weakness, or hesitancy. Yesterday we faced a group of Sleeper Nex and I was sure we would all die — and yet I am here. I might not have been. I have waited for you, Carter. Waited for you since that time when I thought you would kill me ... when
Kade
tried to separate us for good.’

Carter was staring deep into her bright green gaze. ‘You have
waited
for me?’

‘Yes.’ Her voice was incredibly low and husky. Tears stained her cheeks, and she pressed her face to his, transferring the wetness of her longing, of her need.

‘Now is not the time,’ he said.

‘Now is never the time,’ she responded.

‘I do not think I am ready.’

‘Then you will never be ready.’

There came a cough and Roxi stepped away, turning from Carter. Carter looked up into The Priest’s gold-flecked gaze. The Priest did not smile.

‘I am sorry to interrupt such an intimate moment, but I have questions for you. Concerning the SpiralGRID.’

‘You are here to put me on trial?’

‘No,’ said The Priest. ‘I believe you when you say that you were tricked. And Jahlsen brought about his own defeat and death—and, ultimately, the destruction of the SpiralGRID. We did not know he was such a heavy user of Godsmack. His selfishness and his addiction destroyed him; made him an easy target. But I have many questions about the SpiralGRID and its compromise ... and about Durell.’

Carter nodded. Glancing at Roxi, who stood with her back to him, Carter followed The Priest away towards a huge bank of computers. They both sat down on stencilled crates and Carter explained what had happened.

When The Priest had finished with his questions and drifted away towards Mongrel, who was drinking his soup from his huge burnt pan, Carter glanced around at the men and women preparing for the night. Many of them had brews simmering in pans and kettles, and had unrolled bedding mats and sleeping bags on the warehouse’s stone floor. Rogowski was oiling a rifle, Bob Bob was scrubbing at a custard stain on his combats, and Simmo was playing cards with several other men and smoking a big fat cigar, These were true Spiral; these were the hard core, the survivors—the ones who had refused to be stomped and ground into the dust under Durell’s mighty boots.

I have come home, Carter realised. And a weight greater than anything he had ever felt descended to wholly smother his heart and mind and soul.

Carter had set his bedding roll—kindly lent to him by Mongrel—away from the others. Always a solitary creature, he felt even more alone now with the great burden he carried—the guilt for the destruction that he would soon unleash with the MicroNuke weighed heavily on his mind, thoughts of betrayal chewing at him constantly.

I cannot do this, he thought. Over and over again.

I cannot do this ... But I must. Shivering, Carter pulled on a thick jumper and sat down on his improvised bed. Many of the Spiral people were already asleep; Simmo was snoring loudly, and occasionally farting in rhythm with his great throaty rumbles.

Outside it was dark, leaving no illumination inside the warehouse other than the occasional firefly glow of a soft blue NightCube or a purple hexiblock. Out of this gloom came Rogowski who stood gazing down at Carter with a strange look on his face.

‘You OK, mate?’ asked Carter.

Rogowski nodded—and realisation hit Carter like an iron bar. Rogowski dropped to a crouch, his stare locked on Carter’s face. ‘You have the bomb?’ came his soft whisper.

Carter’s expression hardened. Here was the traitor, the betrayer of Spiral. Durell’s contact. The man who would lead Carter and the MicroNuke to the detonation point; the man who would arrange the convergence of Nex and Spiral for the ultimate confrontation; the man who would exterminate Carter’s friends.

‘Why, Rogowski?
Why?’

Rogowski gave a strange little smile. ‘You would never understand, Carter. Never. And we haven’t got time to discuss this fucking situation, so just answer my fucking questions—or the little kid finds himself without a head, and without a fucking
dad.
In that order. Understand?’

Carter’s stare burned into Rogowski. ‘Yeah, cunt, I have the fucking bomb.’

‘Good. Tomorrow there will be a call for a gathering of Spiral agents. For such meetings we have an old munitions depot called the Concrete Arena—which I’ve recently discovered contains the GRID HUB. It’s a couple of miles from here. We’ll all troop along, smiling and happy, and I will show you where to plant the MicroNuke. When we detonate that fucker it will destroy the HUB and the SpiralGRID will be unusable.’

‘Won’t we all die in the nuclear explosion?’

‘Spiral will. But you and I have other plans,’ said Rogowski. ‘Don’t worry, Carter—we have an exit point.’

‘You think I give a fuck about a fucking
exit point
? Rogowski, man, what are you doing? You would turn against your friends and comrades? You would betray them all?’

‘Friendship is all a matter of perspective,’ said Rogowski coldly. ‘In a world like this ... well, shall we say, that I’m just willing to let that friendship slide.’

As Rogowski walked away quietly Carter’s stare burned laser-like into the man’s back, focusing an intensity of hatred. But there was nothing he could do. He was imprisoned by kindred.

Nothing
he could do ... if he wished to save his little boy’s life.

Hours had passed, flowing by like a slow dark river. Carter lay awake, riddled with exhaustion but still unable to sleep.

Something moved close by, then a finger was placed against his lips—and Roxi was there, the scent of her skin a natural perfume invading his senses as she slid beneath his blanket and pressed herself close to him.

‘Do you mind?’ In the darkness, her voice sounded suddenly young; far younger than the rough and tough killer Carter knew so well.

‘No, I don’t mind,’ he replied.

Roxi pillowed her head on one arm. Carter sensed that her face was close to his. Strangely, he felt soothed. Relaxed. Her scent, her proximity, calmed him.

Finally, she said, ‘If I die tomorrow, will you remember me?’

‘I will remember you,’ he said.

‘Will you light a candle for me?’

‘What kind of talk is this, Rox? You sound like you think you only have hours left! Don’t be so defeatist ... the woman I knew was never so despondent, she was an optimist. She would laugh in the face of danger.’

‘I have a mission to perform,’ she said softly. Her hand came up and stroked at his hair. ‘A dangerous mission.’ Her finger traced a line down his jawline, and on impulse he reached forward and kissed her.

‘Do you want me to come with you?’

‘No. It is something I have to do alone.’

They kissed again. Carter’s hand stroked her flank through the thin cotton T-shirt she wore, and she groaned, a low and husky animal sound. He could feel her need.

Pulling away, Carter smiled in the darkness. ‘Don’t be getting any ideas, madam. I have a long day tomorrow—and by the sounds of it, so do you.’

‘Make love to me, Carter. Fuck me like you used to fuck me.’

‘Not tonight.’

‘Is it because of Natasha?’

Roxi felt Carter freeze beside her, then slowly sink into her embrace once more. His breathing was harsh, laboured, but gradually it returned to normal and she whispered, ‘I’m sorry,’ in his ear.

‘No, it’s not your fault. It’s me.’

‘Natasha was beautiful. Natasha was my friend. I miss her as well, you know.’

‘I know,’ sighed Carter.

‘She would have blessed us.’

‘I know that, as well.’

‘Well, you awkward bastard, make love to me!’ Roxi pressed herself harder against him, and they kissed once more, passionately this time. Carter felt himself falling into the uncontrollable embrace of red velvet lust; Roxi’s hand dropped, stroking slowly at his belly, then down to tease and taunt his penis which hardened until he thought he would explode under the squeezing of her long strong fingers. Roxi lifted her leg over him, then leant forward to kiss him again, her hips lifted tantalisingly over him as he groaned and the whole world descended into a blood red sea swirl of want and need, of love and lust and a howling need for sex and his hands grasped at her, pulling her writhing gyrating hips onto him and her cunt was warm, and wet, and soft and willing and they slid together perfectly, a puzzle clicking neatly into place. She ground her hips down with an animal moan and she fucked him as Carter lifted her T-shirt free of her long brown hair and her breasts were highlighted in the gloom of the old stone warehouse. Roxi suddenly arched backwards, and locked together in the act of fucking, Carter’s hands found Roxi’s and her nails gouged his flesh as they became one, lost together, falling together. She toppled forward across him, hair in his face, her breasts pressed against his chest as her eyes gazed into his and they slowed to a mechanical grinding rhythm. Her hips lifted again, lifted from him this time, a tease as his teeth nuzzled at her neck and she plunged herself suddenly, painfully around him, forced herself onto him and they remained locked together for long, long moments and Carter was lost in a maelstrom of emotions and the rushing pounding smashing thrust of—slow—hard—sex.

When he awoke in the ghostly witch-light of dawn, Roxi had gone.

And Carter felt bad.

‘
That was entertaining
,’ said Kade smugly.

‘You’re a cheap voyeur,’ snapped Carter. ‘Why don’t you fuck off and spy on the ladies’ toilet?’

‘A dark twin needs to get his amusement somehow
.’

Carter could smell Roxi on his skin, but at least something made him feel better: the knowledge that Roxi had headed out on a mission. She would not be there when he detonated the MicroNuke. So she would not know of his terrible, ultimate betrayal. And, more importantly, she would not be there to die in the blast.

‘
You’re a whore
,’ said Kade.

‘Get to fuck.’

‘As far as you were concerned, my friend, you’d fuck her and then kill her and her friends with a bomb up the arse. You are worse than any animal, Carter; more deadly than any virus; more lethal than any fucking machine.’

Carter realised that Kade was right. Carter could not kill Spiral. But if he didn’t that would condemn his son ...

I need help, he thought.

‘Yeah, I realised that a long time ago, fucker
,’ chuckled Kade in his head.

‘We need to talk,’ said Mongrel soberly.

The Priest had spent the previous thirty minutes briefing the forty men and women present. He’d told them that they were shortly going to travel to the Concrete Arena, GRID HUB side, and meet up there with a huge group of Spiral operatives to plan a series of coordinated attacks on Durell’s WarFacs; and to discuss the feasibility of bringing down the Sentinel HQs—from within.

Carter nodded, pulling tight the laces of his boots. He followed Mongrel towards the toilet block. Looking shiftily left and right, Mongrel ushered Carter into the toilets and Carter wrinkled his nose at the stench.

‘I hope you’re not looking for romance,’ he said testily.

‘Time for comedy over,’ said Mongrel softly. ‘I have something important to speak.’

‘Important? What, you dying or something, you old cunt?’ laughed Carter.

‘Yes.’

Carter’s stare met Mongrel’s. The big man’s expression was deadly serious, then Mongrel did something that Carter had not seen for a decade. He flashed a coded hand signal. The signal said:
I know about the bomb.

Carter and Mongrel stood there in the stinking toilet block beside the stained and cracked urinals.

Carter said, ‘What’s the matter with you?’ as he flashed a signal, fingers working quickly through the complex sign language:
They have my boy. They will kill him if I do not blow up SpiralHUB.