The Tomb Of Hercules

18

What the fuck is this, Sophia?” Chase demanded as the guards tossed his belongings onto the circular table and shoved him back against the wall, guns pressed to his chest.

“This,” said Yuen smugly, “is what marriage is all about. Two equals working together in perfect harmony to get what they want.” He kissed Sophia on the cheek. She smiled. Chase’s stomach churned at the full realization of her betrayal-and his complete gullibility.

Yuen went to the window, opening his arms wide as if to embrace the machinery of death below. “So, what do you think of my little toy factory? Looks good, doesn’t it?”

“It’ll look even better as a smoking crater,” Chase replied defiantly.

“Oh, let me guess,” said Yuen. “You’re thinking that even if something happens to you, your friend Mac knows where you went and will use his influence with MI6 to start an investigation?” His mouth curled into another smirk. “Sorry, but he had a slight accident. His house kind of… blew up.”

Mac’s house-Nina.

Chase erupted in rage, trying to tear free of the men holding him to rip out Yuen’s throat with his bare hands, but the guards kept their grip and shoved him painfully back against the wall. “You bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”

“No, you won’t.” Yuen nodded to his men. “Kill him and get rid of the body.”

One of the security guards moved his gun over Chase’s heart-

“Aren’t you even going to tell him why you’re making the bombs?” Sophia asked in a seductive voice, running a finger up Yuen’s arm. The guards paused.

Yuen looked askance at her. “What am I, a Bond villain? Maybe after I tell him my entire plan I can put him in a tank of sharks with frickin’ laser beams on their heads.”

“Oh go on,” she purred, draping herself over him. “Do it for me. I just want to see the look on his face. And then you can kill him.”

Yuen paused, taking in the scent of Sophia’s perfume, then relented. “Aw, why not?” he said, stepping forward. “Although you’re probably going to be disappointed, Chase. I don’t have some insane scheme for world domination. It’s just about money.”

“So being a billionaire isn’t enough for you?” Chase sneered.

“There’s no such thing as too much money.” Yuen looked down at the assembly line. “I have twenty-four nuclear bombs-okay, I soon will have twenty-four nuclear bombs, as only the first one’s fully assembled. But they’ll be made available through various black-market channels to the highest bidders. I think a hundred million dollars would be a fair starting point per bomb.”

“No bulk discount?” asked Chase sarcastically.

“You know, I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe I could sell them in six-packs.” Yuen gave him a mocking grin. “But the point is, now anyone can become a nuclear power, whether they be a country, a terrorist organization or even just a rich guy who really, really wants to keep the neighborhood kids off his lawn. All they need is the money.” He took another step towards Chase. “So, for the price of a couple of fighter jets, you can have a fifteen-kiloton nuclear device that’s so simple and rugged any illiterate peasant can operate it, can be disassembled and carried by two guys, or even one if he puts his back into it, and has a design that’s absolutely foolproof. Your own personal Hiroshima, for a very reasonable price. Pretty cool, huh?”

“That’ll only get you two point four billion dollars,” Chase pointed out. “You won’t exactly knock Bill Gates off the rich list.”

Yuen smirked again. “You’re not thinking of the big picture-which is why I’m a billionaire, and you’re a loser with thirty seconds left to live. Think of the paranoia when the major governments realize there are nukes running loose! They could be anywhere-they could even be in their capital cities right now! That means a massive spending boost for the military, homeland security, intelligence services… and all the corporations that contract for them. Like mine. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.” He glanced over his shoulder at Sophia. “Is that the look you wanted?”

The look on Chase’s face was actually as blank a mask as he could manage as he tried to conceal his thoughts. This was his last chance, the only remaining moment for him to break free…

But he knew he couldn’t succeed. Each of the four men pinning him against the wall was as strong as he was, and if even one of them pulled the trigger in the split second it would take him to move, he would be dead.

Not that it would stop him from trying. He tensed his muscles, about to make a final desperate attempt to throw off his captors… when something occurred to him.

It was a trivial thought, a question, in the circumstances totally irrelevant. But even as it entered his mind, Chase realized that he had to know the answer.

“Wait,” he said, as Yuen opened his mouth to order Chase’s death. “The map Nina found-what’s it got to do with the nukes? Why do you want to find the Tomb of Hercules?”

Yuen seemed genuinely surprised. “The Tomb of Hercules? I don’t give a rat’s ass about it-the only reason I pretended to was because Sophia asked me.”

“That’s quite enough of that, dear,” said Sophia from behind him-

A bullet exploded from a messy exit wound in his chest as Sophia shot him. Yuen’s mouth opened in a silent scream, then he collapsed to the floor.

Before anyone had a chance to react, Sophia turned and shot one of the uniformed security guards in the head, blood splattering the wall behind him. The other security guard managed to bring his gun around-only for one of the bodyguards to shoot him in the stomach. He dropped to the floor, writhing in agony-and Sophia fired another shot into his back. The man instantly fell still.

For a moment, hope rose inside Chase-Sophia had just been playing along with Yuen, waiting for the right time to help him…

The hope was crushed as she lifted her gun again, aiming at him. The two bodyguards stepped away, keeping their weapons trained on his chest.

“So,” said Chase, recovering from his shock, “I guess couples counseling didn’t work out.”

“Show some tact, Eddie,” Sophia said in a clipped tone of mock offense. “I’m recently bereaved! I need some time to grieve for my late husband.” She looked down at Yuen’s corpse for half a second, then back at Chase. “There, that should do. Thank you, boys,” she told the bodyguards, who nodded respectfully.

Chase regarded the two men warily. “So what now? You going to kill me too?”

“Don’t be absurd. I never discard something I need. If I’d wanted you dead I would have had you shot while you were still dangling from your parachute. Yes, I knew you were coming,” she added on seeing Chase’s expression. “I hid a tracking device in that awful leather jacket of yours while we were on the flight to Botswana. I knew you’d keep wearing it.”

Chase cautiously lifted his hands to search his pockets. “Outside chest pocket, left side,” Sophia told him. “Where you used to keep your cigarettes before you stopped smoking. You never used that pocket for anything else, so I knew you wouldn’t check it.”

His fingertips touched metal and plastic, and he took a small rectangular device from the pocket before tossing it in disgust to the floor. “The question still stands, Sophia,” he said. “What do you want with the Tomb of Hercules?”

She smiled coldly. “You’ll see. But for now, I need to collect my own personal Hiroshima.”

“Why?”

“As I said, you’ll see.”

Chase looked towards the window and the assembly line below. “There’s only one completed bomb.”

“I only need one.” Sophia addressed one of the bodyguards. “Philippe, you stay here and watch Eddie until we’re ready to leave. If he tries anything, shoot him in the legs, but try not to kill him. For now.” She gave Chase a little grin, which he didn’t return, before turning to the larger man of the two. “Eduardo, come with me. I need you to carry something to the plane.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Eduardo. With a final triumphant glance back at Chase, Sophia strode from the room, the hulking bodyguard following her.

The other man, Philippe, waved his gun, directing Chase to take a seat at the circular table. “So, Philippe,” he said as he reluctantly obeyed, “on first-name terms with Sophia, are you?”

Philippe said nothing, moving around the table, out of his reach.

“’cause I know that she doesn’t normally get too familiar with the help,” Chase went on. “Unless…you’re something more than that?” He noticed a very slight twitch around the bodyguard’s eyes. “Or you think you’re going to be. Is that it? You think that if you help her, you’ll get to shag her?”

“Shut up,” said Philippe, annoyed.

“Yeah, I thought so. You know, she’s crap in bed. Just lies there like a dead fish.”

Philippe stepped forward and struck Chase painfully on the base of the neck with the butt of his Glock-19 pistol. “I told you to shut up! Talk again and I will shoot you!”

Chase stayed silent, rubbing his neck, but knew he’d found a potential weakness. Sophia almost certainly had promised the bodyguard favors, including sex. The question was, how could he turn this to his advantage?

A couple of minutes passed, neither man speaking. Chase slowly swiveled his chair to get a better view over the bomb factory, and with dismay saw the other bodyguard pushing a cart bearing the completed weapon towards the far end of the chamber, Sophia strutting ahead of him. There was presumably another exit, hidden from view by the machinery. Neither wore a hazard suit, suggesting radiation levels in the room were safe for short exposures.

They passed out of sight behind the furnace. Chase frowned. He couldn’t let her leave with the bomb…

“She’ll betray you,” he said.

Philippe was unprepared for the comment. “What?”

“Sophia. She’ll betray you, same as she did to me… and Yuen.” He pointed at the corpse on the floor. “Once she’s got what she wants from you, she’ll dump you-and if she thinks you might cause trouble, she’ll kill you.”

“I told you to be quiet.”

Chase turned the chair, his back to the bodyguard. “I mean, do you seriously think she’d be interested in a bloke like you? You’re just a bit of rough, mate. Soon as she gets bored with you, you’re gone! She’s like one of those insects that bites off the poor bastard’s head once they’re done-”

Philippe stepped forward again. “Shut up!” The gun whistled down-and Chase’s hands snapped up, locking around Philippe’s hand and arresting the blow less than an inch above its target. The bodyguard froze, confused for the briefest moment, and Chase pulled forward with all his strength. Philippe slammed into the high back of the chair.

The bodyguard’s head was above Chase’s left shoulder. He smashed his right fist into Philippe’s face three times, knuckles coming away bloodied. His left hand closed around the gun, tearing it from his opponent’s grip.

Philippe’s free hand clamped around Chase’s face, fingers stabbing for his eyes. Chase punched him again, hearing something crunch-his nose or a tooth-then grabbed the bodyguard’s forefinger before it could plunge into his eye socket and bent it back as hard as he could. Faced with the choice of releasing his grip on Chase’s head or having a finger broken, Philippe chose the former, letting out an anguished screech-and in the split second he was distracted, Chase kicked out, heels hitting the floor and propelling the chair backwards on its casters across the conference room. The gun slipped from the grip of both combatants, but it was too late for either of them to act upon that fact-

The chair and its occupants crashed through the window and fell into the bomb factory. Philippe was on the bottom, having just enough time to begin a horrified scream before it was abruptly cut off as he hit the floor and the combined weight of Chase and the chair crushed his rib cage flat.

The impact flung Chase from the chair. He slammed down on his side, broken glass showering all around him. A stinging pain burned across the side of his head-he’d been cut. Shaking off fragments, he got to his feet and looked around.

The two men in hazard suits stood about fifty feet away, regarding him with astonishment. Then one of them dashed to the nearest wall, hand flailing at a panel, and a warbling alarm burst from loudspeakers around the chamber. The two men ran as best they could in their bulky suits for the exit.

If the technicians got through the door and it closed before Chase reached it, without a key card he’d be trapped in the factory with no weapon, easy prey for the security force when they arrived.

Chase broke into a sprint, chasing the yellow figures. They were at the door, one of them already swiping his key card. He passed the exposed laser they’d been working on, running faster as the door opened and they threw themselves through it. It swung shut behind them.

Twenty feet, ten, his arm outstretched-The lock clunked.

Chase reached the door a moment too late. “Fuck!” He pulled the handle, but it didn’t budge.

He turned to see where Sophia had gone. At the far end of the chamber was another door, identical to the one beside him. Undoubtedly with an identical clearance level.

He was trapped. And despite the fact that he was in a room where devastating weapons were being built, there was nothing he could use to defend himself.

Unless…

He ran back to the condenser chamber on which the technicians had been working. The laser, inside a steel tube about the length of his arm and four inches in diameter, had been pulled out of the end of the chamber on a metal rail, heavy-duty electrical cable still connected to its side. Attached to it by a ribbon connector was some kind of calibration device, a box festooned with buttons and gauges.

But only two controls caught his attention. One was a large dial with the stylized symbol of a lightning bolt above it, the other a red button.

An electronic chime sounded.

The door burst open, security guards pouring into the room. Guns raised and ready. They saw him-

Chase grabbed the laser and swung it around, supporting it with his right arm as his left whirled the dial to full power and stabbed at the button.

There was a blue flash and a noise like a muffled gunshot. For a moment Chase thought the laser had overloaded… then every single one of the guards keeled over dead, smoke billowing from neat holes in their chests. The fully powered laser beam, invisible in the filtered air of the factory, had burned straight through the line of men in a millisecond, leaving a smoldering dark spot on the far wall behind them.

“Oh I like this!” Chase crowed, experiencing an incongruous moment of elation at his new toy before remembering what he had to do. He turned back around, taking aim at the protruding cabinet housing the laser of the farthest condenser chamber. Another touch of the button, and he saw the briefest flicker of intense blue light on the cabinet before the access hatch blew out with a huge bang and a cloud of smoke. Warning lights flashed red on the control panel.

One down. He lined up the laser on the next condenser and fired again, getting another satisfying explosion as the assembly blew apart. Two more shots took care of the remaining condensers.

Another chime, more distant. The door at the other end of the room had opened, and he could hear men shouting as they ran into the factory. Chase brought the laser around to take aim, but he couldn’t see them from his position, blocked by the furnace.

Time to leave.

He hunted for an escape route. The broken window of the conference room was too high to reach, and there was nothing nearby he could climb onto.

But there were pipes above it, conduits for the air-conditioning and filtration system…

He pushed the red button again, this time keeping his finger firmly on it as he swept the laser across the suspended pipes, the blue spot of the beam burning with supernova fury and slicing through the metal. The severed conduits swung down like a giant hinge and hit the floor with an echoing crash.

Chase threw down the laser to break it, and ran up the fallen pipe work. Momentum alone carried him most of the way up the steep slope before he started to lose his footing, the metal buckling beneath his feet.

More shouts, a gunshot-

He flung himself through the hole in the window as if performing a high jump, clearing the lower sill by an inch. He thumped onto the carpet and rolled to a stop, then sprang up to find the Glock that Philippe had dropped. He grabbed it, then rushed around the table to retrieve his possessions. The grenade he shoved into a pocket, then he hefted his pistol.

A gun in each hand, he turned to face the door.

Charging footsteps outside-

Chase whipped around towards the window overlooking the chip fabrication plant and raised both guns, squeezed the triggers, then ran-

The window shattered just before he reached it and leapt out. He arced towards one of the clean rooms, about to crash down onto its glass ceiling.

He fired again, guns aimed downwards. The ceiling exploded, a razor-edged monsoon cascading into the clean room below. Chase’s feet thudded bone-jarringly onto a workbench, the pain of his leg wound flaring back to life. He ignored it and threw himself into a forward roll, racks of fragile silicon wafers tumbling and crunching beneath him, and flew off the end of the bench to land on both feet.

His jacket was covered with the broken remains of glinting microprocessors. “Chips with everything,” he muttered as he got his bearings. He had landed near one side of the huge room, the door through which he’d originally entered in the center of the far wall. A warren of glass lay between himself and the exit.

Shouting from above-the guards had entered the conference room and realized where he had gone. And more were spilling through the entrance off to his left, with a clear line of fire up the central aisle.

But the shortest distance between two points was a straight line…

Both guns raised in front of him, Chase ran again, heading directly for the far exit. That the route was blocked by clean rooms didn’t stop him-he kept firing, glass walls bursting apart in his path as terrified technicians dived for cover. He sprinted through the transparent maze as it parted, shimmering fragments spraying around his pumping legs like breaking waves.

Philippe’s gun clicked empty. Without a moment of hesitation Chase dropped it, still firing with his own automatic at the last clean room. One bullet took out both walls-he ran faster through the debris, free hand pulling out the key card as he charged for the door.

Guards were running after him. He fired a single shot into the throng, as much to force them to seek cover as to kill. They scattered.

Swipe-

Green light. Chime. Go!

He ran through and immediately turned down the corridor leading to the lobby. A security guard stood in his path, but Chase blew him away with a single shot before the man even had time to take aim.

The lobby was an anonymous corporate space with murals of microcircuitry on the walls. No more guards. Chase turned again, running for the double doors. Yuen’s Mercedes was still parked outside, the driver now standing outside the car, waiting anxiously for his boss.

Chase didn’t waste the second it would have taken to open the doors. Instead he simply fired a shot both to shatter the glass and to warn the driver to get the hell out of his way, and vaulted through the empty frame to land by the car’s open door. The driver had taken the hint, already making good time towards Bern.

He jumped into the Mercedes, finding the engine running; the driver had been prepared to get his employer to safety as quickly as possible. But Chase didn’t intend to head for safety as he floored the accelerator, the car fishtailing away from the microchip factory in a trail of smoking rubber.

He had to stop Sophia from getting away with the nuke. No matter what.