Halfhead

27

Outside the shuttle’s windows the stanchion lights vwipped past, their cold-white glow making the carriage flicker as Brian dug his way through the pack of crowd-control devices Constable Cat MacDonald had liberated from the Network armoury-lining them up on the floor. She’d been pretty thorough: Crispies, Jammers, Sticky Willies, and NightFog. All the toys.

Brian stuck them back in the bag while Will filled Cat in on Ken Peitai’s ‘social research’ project, the sub-dermal tracking and listening devices, Peitai and Kikan’s spell at Glasgow Royal Infirmary and what he’d found hidden away in the PsychTech files.

When Will was finished, Brian dumped the full pack on the seat next to him and said, ‘You find out why the wee dick and his boss were messing about with PsychTech?’

‘Not yet.’ Will stared out of the window, watching the bars of light streak past. ‘Westfield was building killers, Peitai is too. Maybe it was a kindred spirit kind of thing?’

Cat MacDonald raised her hand, as if asking permission to go to the toilet. ‘She was trying to see if the textbook model of serial killer development was valid, yes?’ Cat picked at the Field Zapper in its holster. ‘Perhaps they thought they could hijack her research?’

Will nodded. ‘That’s what I thought.’

There was a small lurch as the shuttle left the main net and clacked onto the Monstrosity Square branch line.

Will checked the destinator. Almost there.

‘Lock and load, people.’

He pulled his Whomper upright and popped the power cartridge out into his hand, checking the contacts were clean and the charge was full, before racking the battery back into place. Watched as Brian and Cat did the same.

They coasted the last fifteen feet into the shuttle station beneath Sherman House in absolute silence. Their car bumped to a halt against the station buffers and, with a soft hiss, the doors slid open, letting in the bitter reek of stale urine. Faded sodiums flickered incontinence-yellow against the grubby concrete as Will stepped out onto the deserted platform.

‘Which way?’

Brian wrinkled his nose. ‘Jesus…It honks in here!’ He peered at the tracker’s screen, then did a slow, lumbering pirouette, holding the device in front of him as he turned. At last he lifted a grey-clad arm and pointed off the end of the platform and into the dark of the shuttle tunnel: back the way they’d come.

‘Goin’ to have to walk.’

Constable MacDonald almost choked. ‘You’re kidding, right?’ She looked at the shuttle and then the black hole. ‘Do you have any idea what speed these things go at?’

Will pulled his Whomper round into firing position and started towards the platform’s far edge.

‘Sir, if we’re in the tunnels when a shuttle comes we’ll be spread all over the walls like pâté!’

Brian shrugged and slung his rifle over his shoulder. Holding the tracker in front of him, he followed Will down the ladder at the end and onto the trackway, leaving Cat alone on the station platform, clutching her massive Bull Thrummer and spluttering.

‘Am I the only one who sees how stupid this is?’

‘Aye,’ said Brian, ‘Looks like it.’

Will marched into the darkness, the hot green circle of his lightsight sweeping the track in front of him.

The room sparkled like a surgical blade. Harsh light bounced back off the wraparound mirror, illuminating the figure strapped to an interrogation chair. Sneaky bitch was slumped sideways, trying to pretend she was still unconscious, but the monitoring equipment told a different story. She was awake and they knew it.

The old man rested a hand against the observation suite window, staring through the glass at William Hunter’s girlfriend.

‘Have you managed to glean any information from our guest?’ His voice was soft, but Ken could hear the menace in it: like a teddy bear full of razorblades.

‘Well, sir, we had a friendly little chat and it seems Hunter knows a damn sight less than we thought he did. That or he’s not told Pocahontas here the whole story. Either way…’ Ken flexed his hand, feeling the tight pull of fresh skinpaint on his scraped knuckles. ‘She’s been very cooperative.’

‘You persuaded her?’

Ken nodded, pointing at the monitors. ‘Chemical, electrical and kinetic. She’s got nothin’ more to hide.’

The old man turned his back on the observation window and pulled the test tube from his pocket, sending it dancing between his fingers, keeping the thick, liquid contents moving. ‘You still haven’t found Mr Hunter.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘We’re lookin’ for him, sir. I got three teams sweepin’ the city as we speak.’

‘And are they going to be using the tracking beacons we implanted under his skin to find him this time? Or have you got them charging around like headless chickens again, wearing low-light goggles instead of infrared?’

Ken could feel his cheeks flushing in the darkness. ‘We couldn’t use the trackers in the park, sir, the jammer blocked the-’

‘I don’t like excuses, Ken, you know that.’

Tokumu Kikan smiled and placed a hand on the back of Ken’s neck. The old man was easily a foot taller than him-even with the Cuban heels-and Ken had to try really hard not to flinch as the long, cool fingers wrapped around.

‘I would so hate for this to come between us, Ken.’ Pause. ‘Don’t let it come to that.’

‘Yes, sir. Definitely, sir. I’ll get onto the teams and make sure they know-’

‘Find Hunter for me. Maybe we’ll forget all about your errors of judgement.’

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’

The test tube stopped its dance and Ken watched the liquid inside slide back down the sides of the glass into a thick green pool.

‘And if you can’t…’ Kikan shrugged. ‘If you can’t, well, we always need people to help us test the formula.’ He slipped the test tube into Ken’s top pocket and patted it gently.

‘It’s not goin’ to come to that, sir, I swear it.’

‘Good lad.’ The old man smiled again and turned back to look through the window at Detective Sergeant Jo Cameron pretending to be unconscious.

Interview terminated.

Ken got the hell out of there as fast as his cowboy boots would go. If the old man was pissed at him it might be better to keep on running. Make himself disappear before an assault team broke his door down in the middle of the night and did it for him. Maybe hop a Trans-Atlantic shuttle, set up shop in one of those half-assed redneck republics. Get a new name and a new face and keep his head way down. Not even the old man could live forever…But Ken knew it wouldn’t work, the Newnited States wasn’t far enough: they’d still find him.

No choice then. Have to see this out to the end.

The control room was quiet, the bank of monitors covering one wall flickering from apartment to apartment in the building above. A mousy blonde in a headset sat behind the large, crescent-shaped desk. Ken parked himself on the edge of it and demanded a progress report.

‘Not much, sir.’ The controller hit a button and the monitors flickered, all the pictures merging into one. An aerial shot of Finneston slid past, the distinctive pug nose of a Hopper just visible on the left of the frame. ‘Team two is doing a segment sweep, but they’re not getting anything on the tracker.’

She hit another button and a Network Dragonfly shot across the wall, its navigation lights winking red and green in the rain-drenched night.

‘Team three picked up this blip fifteen minutes ago: the codes don’t match, but.’

‘That’ll be Lieutenant Brand: the one that crippled Arkwright. Forget about her, she’s…’ Ken stopped, remembering the old man’s fingers wrapping around his neck. ‘Second thoughts, stay on her: she’s wired for sound. If Hunter tries to get in touch I want to know.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘What about team one?’

‘Spiral search pattern out from Network Headquarters. He was in Glasgow Royal Infirmary for a couple of hours getting his head stitched back together, but we couldn’t touch him: too much security. He took a shuttle to Network HQ an hour ago. Twenty minutes later we lost the tracking signal.’

‘God damn it.’ Forty minutes-bastard could be anywhere by now. ‘You pull in every extra man we’ve got. I want to know where this sonuvabitch is.’

‘There we go.’ Brian’s voice was little more than a whisper, but it still echoed uncomfortably loud in the dark, empty hollow of the shuttlenet tunnel. Up ahead, just visible as a faint semicircle, was an unmarked branch off the main line.

Will swept the green beam of his lightsight up the nearside wall and then snapped it off, leaving them in absolute darkness.

‘Anyone see any cameras?’ he asked.

‘No, sir.’

‘How’re we supposed to see cameras? You’ve switched the bloody light off!’

‘Stop moaning.’ Will reached out, searching for the person nearest to him and finding Constable MacDonald. ‘You grab the back of my harness, Brian’ll grab yours. Single file.’ He inched forward, feeling his way in the dark towards the private branch line.

‘Sir?’ Cat whispered. ‘Sir? What are we going to do when we get there?’

‘Grab the first person we find, ask them where Jo is. Then we rescue her and do a runner before they send in the Marines.’

‘Great.’ She sighed. ‘A well thought out plan. Nothing left to chance. How could it possibly go wrong?’

‘You want a list?’ asked Brian from the back of the line.

‘Would you two shut up!’

They crept on in silence, off the main line into the private tunnel-using the maglev track in the middle as a guide. The tunnel swept away from the Sherman House station and, after what seemed like hours sneaking along in the dark, Will shuffled to a halt. He felt his way back along Cat’s arm to where Brian was holding onto her battledress.

‘How much further?’

There was a click and a faint grey glow lit Brian’s face from beneath. The light was turned down so low it was almost off, but after the pitch black of the tunnel it was like a searchlight.

‘Two hunnerd and fifty feet…Jesus.’ He snapped the screen shut, plunging them back into darkness. ‘We’re right on top of the damn thing.’

‘Right, here’s what we…’ Will ground to a halt, staring back down the tunnel. It wasn’t much; just a faint flicker of light, but it was getting brighter. He stuck his arms out to encompass Brian and Cat and leapt for the tunnel wall. They slammed into the concrete as the light bars on either side of them burst into life, stinging their eyes. A pressure shock-wave made his ears pop and he hung on for dear life as the shuttle screamed past. It decelerated rapidly, settled into a stately glide and coasted to a halt at the research facility’s private station.

On either side of them the stanchion lights flickered out, plunging them back into darkness again. Globes on the station walls blossomed into life and Will had to squint to make out anything more than a harsh, painful blur. Three figures stepped out of the car and onto the platform. The sound of a punchline wafted down the tunnel-just audible over the ringing in his ears-and the newcomers laughed, slapped each other on the back, and disappeared through the station doors.

‘Shite that was close!’ said Brian when they’d gone. ‘My whole life flashed before my eyes…Mind, the dirty bits were good, but.’

Will turned his head and found his face less than an inch away from Constable MacDonald’s. Her hips hard against his, her breath hot on his neck where they were all squashed together against the tunnel wall. The adrenaline of almost getting killed was making this feel a lot more erotic than it should. She smiled at him, licked her lips, and said: ‘My hero!’

‘Yes, well…’ He backed away into the middle of the tunnel. ‘We’d, erm, better get moving.’

Will led the way across to the vacated shuttle and up onto the platform. He pulled his Whomper round, hit the ‘on’ button, and the assault rifle came online with a soft electric whine. Brian powered his up. Then they waited for Cat to get the Bull Thrummer going.

Nothing.

She poked at the buttons and flicked the switches. ‘It’s a different model to the one I’m used to, OK?’

Brian turned it on for her and the siege weapon growled, drowning everything else out.

‘Right,’ said Will, ‘here’s what we’re going to do: single file from here on. I’ll take point; Cat in the middle; Brian, you’re tail-end Charley.’

‘Shite. No’ again.’

‘Yes again. The place will be wired so…’ He dug into Brian’s pack and pulled out a portable jammer. ‘It’s got a range of about two hundred meters.’ He flipped the switch and stuffed it back where he got it. ‘They’ll be able to guess our position as the cameras go out ahead of us, but there’s nothing we can do about that.’

‘Aye there is.’ Brian winked at Cat. ‘Will’s supposed tae be the brains of the organization, but I’m no’ just a pretty face maself.’ He pointed at a big grey box marked ‘DANGER OF ELECTROCUTION!’ welded onto the concrete wall with about a ton of foamsteel. ‘See that? That’s the main power line goin’ in tae the place. Cat, you want to do the honours?’

‘What?’

Brian sighed. ‘Thrum the damn thing.’

‘Oh. My pleasure.’ She swung the massive siege weapon round and thumbed the trigger. Nothing happened.

Brian rolled his eyes and sighed again.

‘It works better when you’ve no’ got the safety on,’ he said, reaching over and clicking it off for her.

‘Thanks.’ This time the tines began to tremble, sticking out behind her like an angry metal porcupine. And then the Bull Thrummer bellowed. Cat rocked back on her feet as a hard blue pulse surged forward, ripping through the foamsteel as if it was made of jelly. Tiny ionized particles of metal and concrete exploded under the Bull Thrummer’s touch, whirling round in a cyclone of powder-grey dust, crackling with static electricity.

Cat McDonald was grinning like a maniac as the siege weapon thundered its way through the power line.

The noise was deafening, amplified by the tunnel walls. Sparks showered out of the ravaged foamcrete and all the lights in the station cracked off. The roar of the Bull Thrummer died away, leaving nothing but the sizzle and fizz of the dust storm, glowing with its own discharging electricity. And then they were back in darkness once again. Tinnitus ringing in their ears.

‘THERE YOU GO,’ Brian yelled. ‘NO POWER. NOW ALL THE CAMERAS ARE ON THE BLINK.’

Will just smiled, shook his head, and pushed through the doors into the darkened facility.

He switched the Whomper’s lightsight on, painting the place in soft green monotone. It wouldn’t be long before they brought the backup generators online and Will was determined to get as far as he could before that happened. He charged up the main corridor, trying to remember as much of the layout as he could from Ken Peitai’s tour. Cat was hot on his heels, sweeping the Bull Thrummer back and forth while Brian brought up the rear, tracker in one hand Whomper in the other.

‘Talk to me, Brian.’

‘Up to the end then left…no right. Shite, the thing’s all over the shop, must be the jammer!’

Will kicked his way though the doors at the end of the corridor and swept the area with green light.

There was a large woman standing beside a vending machine, a plastic of something hot and dark in her hand. ‘What the hell’s goin’ on?’

Will pointed the Whomper straight at her and she had to squint in the lightsight’s glare, her orange hair bleached green in the targeting beam.

‘Buchan, is that you?’ She hobbled forward a step. One leg was encased in plaster to the knee, but she still stood like a rugby player.

‘On the floor now!’

‘I don’t understand-’

‘Get your arse on the ground before I blow it off!’ Will thumbed the trigger, not with enough pressure to fire, just enough to make the weapon snarl in his hands. The woman dropped to the floor fast, coffee splashing across the dark terrazzo.

Will jabbed the Whomper into the back of her neck. ‘Where is she?’

‘I don’t know what you-’

‘Will?’ That was Brian, sounding worried. ‘What you doin’?’

‘This was one of the pickup team that got her.’ Will said. ‘This is the one that put me in the hospital.’ He turned his attention back to the redhead and made the Whomper growl again. ‘I SAID WHERE IS SHE?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about-I don’t even work here!’ She covered her head with her hands, face pressed against the floor. ‘Please don’t hurt me…’

Brian placed a hand on Will’s shoulder. ‘Hud oan. You don’t want to do this. You’re no’ that kind of person.’ Brian gently pushed the Whomper’s barrel away from the big woman. ‘But I am.’ He kicked her in the ribs. Hard. Something dark splashed out of her mouth and Brian kicked her again.

‘Right, sunshine,’ he said balling his fist and grabbing the coughing, gasping woman by the throat. ‘We know who you are.’ He slammed the fist into her face, spreading her nose like meat paste. ‘You know who we are.’ He loosened a couple of teeth for her. ‘And you know where our friend is. Okey doke?’

‘Jesus, Brian!’

‘No’ now Will, I’m workin’.’ He grabbed her arm and twisted it round through ninety degrees, locking the elbow. ‘How about a nice wee game of This Little Piggy?’ Brian took a firm hold of her index finger. ‘Where is she?’

‘I don’t know what-’

‘This little piggy went to market.’ He jerked it back. A soft ‘crack’ sounded and she squealed.

‘Where is she?’

‘Bastard! I don’t-’

‘This little piggy stayed at home.’ Crack.

‘Ah Jesus! I don’t-’

‘This little piggy had roast beef.’ Crack.

‘Aaaagghh!’

‘And this little piggy-’

‘She’s in the main interrogation suite! Down the corridor, first left, second right!’

Will jumped past them, leaving them in darkness.

‘There you go,’ said Brian, as if he was about to give the ginger-haired wifie a lollypop, ‘that wasnae so hard now was it?’ He let go of her hand and she pulled it against her chest, sobbing. Poor wee soul.

‘Come on, Cat.’ He struck a heroic pose. ‘Will’s only gonnae get himself in all kinds of shite if we’re no’ there to bail him out.’

‘First things first.’ Constable MacDonald placed the barrel of the Bull Thrummer against the woman’s battered head. ‘You have beautiful eyes.’ One second the big-boned woman was there, the next there was nothing left but a dark, sticky mist that tasted of iron.

Brian stood, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. ‘But…You…’

‘What?’ Cat hoisted the weapon. ‘Like we’re going to leave her alive to raise the alarm and shoot us in the back? I don’t think so.’

Brian watched her disappear up the corridor after Will. Jesus: they were a lot tougher in the Bluecoats than they’d been when he was a sergeant.

The lights flickered on above Will’s head. They’d got the backup generators online already. So much for all the cameras being out.

He pulled up outside the double doors marked ‘HOSPITALITY SUITE’. The roar of a Bull Thrummer sounded behind him, swiftly answered by the bark of a Whomper. More gunfire echoed down the corridor. The lights were on and someone was home.

Will stabbed his throat-mike: static crackled in his earpiece-the jammer was still going.

Cat sprinted around the corner, screeched to a halt and yelled, ‘Down!’ The hallway sizzled with blue light as her Bull Thrummer bellowed again. Brian came scrabbling after her; the hair on the back of his head a lot shorter than it had been fifty-seven seconds ago. He slammed into the wall at Cat’s feet, turned, and fired his Whomper back the way he’d come.

‘BRIAN!’ Will yelled over the noise, ‘KILL THE JAMMER, I NEED TO CALL FOR BACKUP!’

Agent Alexander fumbled in his pack and the static filling Will’s ear died.

‘Control, this is Hunter, put me through to Lieutenant Brand!’

‘Sir? Half the city is looking for you, Director-’

‘Put me through to Lieutenant Brand, now!’

‘Yes, sir!’

Brian dug a Sticky Willy out of the pack, pulled the pin and hurled it down the corridor. Someone shouted ‘Fire in the-’ and a wet whoomping noise rattled the ceiling tiles as everything in the blast radius was coated in a thick layer of polymer adhesive.

Cat’s Bull Thrummer roared again.

Will’s earpiece popped and a tired, irritated voice came through loud and clear: ‘This better be bloody important!’

‘Emily, shut up and listen. We’re in a secret research facility under Sherman House. You know the one, you’ve been here.’

‘What the hell are you doing there? You told me you were going home!’

‘We’ve found DS Cameron, but we’re under heavy fire.’ He ducked as a section of wall exploded into hot plastic shrapnel.

Cat MacDonald heaved the Bull Thrummer back and forth, teeth bared.

Someone screamed.

Will fired a couple of shots into the thick cloud of Thrummer dust. ‘Lock onto my signal and get your team down here ASAP!’

‘Damn it, Will, You lied to me!’

‘I didn’t have any choice. When they caught us they stuck listening bugs under our skin. Trackers too. If I’d told you anything they would have known.’

‘They put listeners under my skin and you didn’t tell me? You should have told me!’

‘Just get yourself down here pronto, OK?’

There was a pause and in the background Will thought he heard the Dragonfly’s engines changing pitch, though it was difficult to tell over the roar of Cat’s Bull Thrummer.

‘ETA two minutes thirty.’

‘Thanks Emily, I owe you one.’

‘You should have told me.’ She killed the link.

Will sighed and turned to face the hospitality suite doors. Brian and Cat were keeping the facility’s guards busy; Emily and her team were on their way; all he had to do now was rescue Jo.

How hard could it be?

The Whomper sang in his hands as he drew back his foot and kicked the door off its hinges.