Chimera Code (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) (30 page)

* * *

The quad bike climbed the ramp with ease, its engine note
nothing more than a whisper; tyres bit into the dirt and Dillon pulled
a perfect wheelie towards Vince.

“Very nice, chap,” remarked Vince, nodding as he held out a
steaming hot mug of tea.
Dillon jumped off the quad and walked over to the big Australian,
accepting the offered mug. “There’s only packs of field rations down
there, which is better than nothing and they’ll keep us going for the
time being.”
Vince delved into his rucksack and pulled out a large red apple
and tossed it across to Dillon, who deftly caught it in his left hand.
“I’ll regret giving you that, when all I’ve got to eat is a dried meal in
a bag.”
“Thanks mate. There’s another thing.”
“What’s that?” Vince sipped his brew, his eyes suspicious.
“Back down there, I saw an AMSD OM 50 Nemesis 12.7mm
sniper rifle. With a telescopic night sight.”
“What of it.”
“It’s got some sort of fingerprint recognition trigger instead of a
conventional one. “I was wondering if you’d set it up for
me?”
“A Nemesis, eh. Not an easy rifle to set up, but I’ll give it a go.
Why that particular weapon? There must be hundreds of weapons to
choose from in that armoury.”
“It’s not just a rifle, Vince. It’s the ultimate long range sniper
rifle.”
“Possibly, and I’ll agree it’s most likely the best weapon here.”
The two men walked back down the ramp to the weapons store and
Vince proceeded to personalise the Nemesis trigger grip to Dillon’s
hand print, using the software on his laptop. “Now that this grip is
associated with you - no one else can use this weapon, even if they
wanted to. Just remember that you cannot just pick this up and fire it.
You must let the reader inside the grip recognise your hand print, first.
Although, this only takes a fraction of a second to complete.”
“Yeah, Yeah. I know all of that stuff, and I won’t forget.”
“I’ve seen you in action, remember! Waiting is not something
you do so well, along with treating your equipment with respect...”
“I’ll take extra care of all my equipment, I promise.” Dillon said
soberly, but the grin across his face gave him away.
“Yeah, right, I’ve seen the condition of that Glock you carry
around with you.”
“Used but never abused,” said Dillon. “The fact is that it’s so
worn and yet still functions perfectly, is a testament to my love for
it. And it wouldn’t have lasted this long if I’d casually tossed it aside,
now would it?”
Vince muttered something incomprehensible.
“Now, now, Vincent. Leave Dillon alone,” said Tatiana softly,
moving out of the gloom. She carried a Glock, several spare magazines
and some boxes of ammunition. She handed Dillon some of the
magazines and ammo boxes and stashed the rest in the pockets of her
jacket, saying, “I also grabbed a few of the field ration packs, they’re
under the quad’s front seat.”
“I’m hoping that we won’t be gone long enough to need them,”
Dillon said, smiling grimly.

* * *

The special forces depot also contained clothing necessary for
the locality, in case they were separated from the quad bike: thermal
base layers and traditional Arctic camouflage fatigues were chosen.

“Wrap up, Tats - we’ll blend in and at least we won’t die of
hypothermia.”
“Are there any helmets in there?”
Dillon shook his head. “Balaclavas only. Don’t worry, we’re not
going to crash.”
They spent a few minutes getting into their clothing, Dillon
fooling around despite the seriousness of their predicament. When
both were fully dressed, they stood staring at each other and Dillon’s
hand reached out and stroked Tatiana’s cheek.
“You look stunning, as always.”
“What are you after?”
“Absolutely nothing. I merely wanted to tell you, that’s all.”
“You old charmer, Dillon. You’re so full of crap.”
“So a man can’t even be romantic, even if the timings off and
the situation, so wrong on so many levels?”
Dillon smiled, tension easing from him. “Come on, best we get
going. thanks to this unscheduled diversion, we’re already running
late. You got the co-ordinates for the facility?”
Tatiana punched the numeric codes into the quad’s sat-nav to
guide them to Kirill’s mountain.
They both sat on the quad bike and Dillon fired up the machine.
Tatiana settled herself on the back seat of the huge machine and they
both turned, gazes fixing on Vince Sharp. “You know the procedures,
Vince,” said Dillon.
Vince nodded. “Be careful, mates.”
Dillon laughed, pulling on his goggles. “Oh, we’ll be careful,
mate. But we’ll also be lethal.”
All four wheels spun, gripped and the next instant the quad bike
shot away...
242
* * *

Dillon had warned Tatiana of the perils of riding pillion on the
quad, how she should watch his every move, and not to throw herself
around on the machine. “We’ll be travelling over some extreme terrain,
and it’ll get rough at times, but all you’ve got to do is hang onto me
with everything you’ve got.”

Now, as the quad bike surged forward, Tatiana’s heart was in her
mouth; the rain had returned and was now beating down, mud and
water sprayed up under the splashguards on both sides, and they left
Vince behind as they powered on up through the first valley. A torquefilled engine throbbing beneath them like an athlete’s heart beating at
full rate. The quad sailed over the waterlogged ground, cutting out
any need for tracks or roads, and as they crested a ridge, Dillon still
piling on the power, the quad’s front wheels lifted from the ground in
a shower of debris and water spray.

Another world opened up, a world of rolling heather, a great
mauve carpet caressed by the wind, stretching off to the horizon.
Nothing else moved, nothing stirred in this bleak harsh environment:
no trees, no inhabitants - just the occasional covey of grouse taking
flight. Two words sprang into Tatiana’s mind to describe this place.

Total isolation.
They powered forward, down the lower slopes of the mountain,
and even though it was still raining and the wind bitterly cold, sweat
was trickling down the riders’ backs. Dillon wrestled with the huge
quad bike, he could feel the ground soften under the knobbly offroad tyres, trying to pull the powerful machine one way and then the
other; he fought back, increasing the power, building the speed, rising
from the seat a little to stand on the pegs with Tatiana clinging on
tightly behind as they crested another rise and sailed down the next
slope. Dillon kept the power on and the speed kept creeping up; past
50 m.p.h., the low carpet of heather sped by in a blur all around the
charging quad bike. Occasionally they hit a buried rock, the bike’s
suspension dipping, absorbing, but Dillon kept true to the line they
were taking, kept the quad racing over the open wilderness of the
Scottish Highlands.
They charged along under dark clouds and heavy rain.
Dillon wiped the moisture from his face with the back of his
gloved hand, wincing as the rough material ran over his wind-burnt
lips. The rain beat down, making him blink behind the goggles as he
read the GPS coordinates, his face feeling as if it had been whipped
with stinging nettles.
They rode on, merging with the landscape around them; valleys
blending with mountainous slopes, an undulating landscape that they
navigated with great effort. The quad bike carried them forward, until
finally the mountains became bigger and their way seemingly became
barred.
They arrived at a vast loch, the expanse of water appeared to
go on forever, sandy beaches and huge rocky outcroppings of stone
rearing up out of the water in the distance. Sheer cliffs rose up to meet
the dark brooding sky on both sides, and Dillon powered down the
quad as they descended from the foothills towards the water’s edge.
Dillon picked his way around the shoreline heading towards the
far end of the loch.
They rode on, the quad’s powerful motor running silent.
“Thank God for that!” Tatiana spoke over the sound of the
wind and rain. She was clinging on tightly and Dillon, who had sat
down in the saddle once more, could feel her hands around his waist
gripping on for dear life.
“Mental ride, eh?”
“Oh it’s mental, alright,” Tatiana agreed.
They picked their way around the edge of the loch, thick cloud
overhead and the rain still beating down, Dillon’s eyes focused on
the Sat-Nav. He swung the quad left, then unleashed the powerful
machine up the slope towards a pocket of ancient Caledonian pine
trees, slowed as he looked for a cutting through to the other side. He
glanced to his right and found what he was looking for, a man made
cutting big enough to allow them access and passage all the way to
the other side of the forest. Accelerating, Dillon gritted his teeth and
negotiated the ruts and rotting debris, all four wheels spun as they shot
into the darkness of the forest’s interior. With a wail from Tatiana,
they powered forward, lights blazing, shadows dancing on either side
as they sped on. As they shot out of the forest, the quad slewed to the
left. Dillon had to brake hard and the powerful machine slowed as an
old ravine loomed - Dillon circled in a wide arc, blipped the throttle
and then opened up the power, the quad powered up quickly and they
leaped from the lower slopes of the huge mountain, dropping a good
ten feet to land on the other side. Suspension dipped, Tatiana’s shriek
was cut short with a grunt, and the quad sped on as if nothing more
than feather had interrupted its trajectory.
Dillon brought the quad to a halt, looking over his shoulder at
the leap they’d just made. “You okay, back there, Tats?”
“You could have warned me!”
“No time, luv. Just had to go for it.”
“No time, you rotten son of a bitch!”
“That’s the fun of quad biking,” shouted Dillon. “Everything
happens in the blink of an eye.”
They cruised on over the carpet of heather that covered the
terrain, picking their way between rocks and fallen debris. To their
left stood a mammoth of a cliff, and as they wound their way further
north, Dillon realised that it would have to be negotiated to reach the
next stage of their journey.
For the next half an hour they followed the shoreline of the
loch. Then, slowing his speed, Dillon dropped a few gears. Finding a
narrow track that led up an insanely steep slope of rock, he slowed to
a halt for a moment, his eyes focused intently.
Tatiana was exhausted and extremely tetchy, “This is fucking
awful, Dillon. I’m being bounced around all over the place back here.”
“You do not have to steer this beast. Why do you think that
the guys that usually ride these things are such physically fit sons of
bitches?”
“Why have we stopped here?”
Dillon lifted his goggles for a moment, rubbed at his eyes, and
then wiped the rain from the goggles’ surface with the cloth he pulled
from his jacket pocket. “If we carry on following the shoreline of the
loch, we’ll simply swing around and be heading in the wrong direction
- we need to follow this track, we need to climb up and out.”
“Climb up and out? We’ll never be able to...”
Tatiana had spotted the narrow track leading up the mountain
slope until it reached the sheer cliff face, and then apparently disappear
into the rock.
“Wait a minute.”
Dillon’s goggles were already back in place, he twisted the
throttle; the quad bike lurched forward, needing little encouragement
- they hammered up the slope, tyres chewing up the ground beneath
them as they accelerated towards the rock face. Dillon twisted the
throttle, getting every last ounce of power from the machine, the
engine roared and could be heard even through its stealth shielding...
The quad bike covered the ground quickly, the gap between the rock
only becoming apparent as they were almost on it. They shot through
the gap, sheer rock rising up as far as the eye could see, both riders
clenching their teeth and all four tyres biting into the lichen covered
rock... The pass had widened and Dillon had increased their speed,
until he saw what he had been looking for - the other end.
They came out of the pass into another valley, Dillon bringing
the quad to an abrupt halt, so that he could scan the area before
moving on.
“You really are a crazy bastard, Dillon,” Tatiana shouted at the
back of Dillon’s head.
“I try my best,” Dillon said with a broad smile. “But if you think
that was bad...”
He turned and pointed to the other end of the valley, and the
mountain range waiting, quietly waiting for them.
“So it’s another bloody mountain, so what?”
“It’s in our way.”
“Dillon, even this quad won’t go up that.”
“It will if you find the right trails and paths.”
They sped along for another hour. Tatiana was exhausted, and
she knew that Dillon was tiring - and becoming increasingly frustrated
because of these natural obstacles that were hindering their progress
to get to Kirill’s facility and Kirill himself.
As the daylight started to dissolve into darkness, Dillon halted,
wiping away the rain from his goggles again. The steep lower slopes
of the mountain looked daunting as the others had before - but this
time it looked huge, made more formidable by the smooth lichen
covered rock turning into giant steps nearer the summit that were
weathered with time. They formed a steep and treacherous series of
ramps, rising up in to the darkening sky.
“Dillon, please don’t tell me that you’re thinking of...”
“It’s our only option, Tats. And this baby will eat that rock.”
“No Dillon. I value my life.”
“And I value your life, Tats. But I value Kirill’s death more,”
Growled Dillon. He blipped the engine. “Hold on, we’re going to do
a spot of extreme hill climbing.”
The quad moved forward - gently this time and with care as
Dillon’s gaze swept across the slope and at the rock ahead and above
of them like some crazy game of snakes and ladders. He eased
forward along the foot of the cliff, back and forth a couple of times
to get the measure of the narrow trail way that wound its way up the
mountain, all the way to the summit. Then, only when he was happy,
did he gingerly start to move forward, opening up the throttle a little
and turned the nose of the quad towards the steep climb.
With precision and control, Dillon eased the quad up a series of
gentle slopes, blipping the power around the tight bends in the trail.
Rubber gripped, the huge quad bike surged a little and Dillon had to
slam on the brakes to regain control. They climbed up the mountain
slopes into the low cloud base, Dillon kept the pace up, the quad
consuming the ground with ease.
Now halfway up, Tatiana gazed down. If it had looked
unreasonably steep from the bottom, now it looked insane; she felt
suddenly vulnerable, gazing down at the valley far below, bordered by
more mountain peaks stretching or as far as the eye could see.
Low clouds tumbled over the rugged landscape, impatient to
reach their never ending destination, the mountain slopes foreboding
in the failing light of day. Tatiana put her head against Dillon’s back,
closed her rain drenched eyes and prayed.
The quad jolted, and then bucked as it went over an area strewn
with small rocks, its tyres scrambled and kicked up debris as the
powerful machine fought its way up the slope, bumping and rocking,
as Dillon, sweat rolling down his forehead, grappled to keep the quad
moving forward and upright. His gaze focused intently on the ground
in front of them as they neared the summit, and then finally, they were
over the top and Dillon had dropped down through the gears as they
started down the other side. Loose rocks made the quad slip as tyres
struggled to grip the loose ground, and they started to pick up speed.
Tatiana patted his shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“I think we need a break.”
“Sounds like a good idea. I am truly done-in.”
They continued down the mountain for a while longer until
Tatiana’s sharp eyes spotted a small copse of trees, outlined by eerie
half-light. Dillon altered course, and before long the trees came closer
and two weary riders were able to dismount and stretch tired muscles
and aching joints, the canopy of the trees protecting them from the
persistent rain.
* * *

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