‘They’re the enemy, aren’t they?’ snarled Simmo. ‘Hundreds of them tried to take us out back in Slovenia -tried to turn us into mincemeat. And now we supposed to sit by as fat-arsed politicians argue over who gets the rights to the LVA fields when all this over? Fuck ‘em. We do this Simmo way! That LVA installation guarded by Nex. Nex are outlawed. We have licence to kill.’
The Sergeant’s eyes gleamed.
All eyes were on his blood-encrusted shaved head, which was still pumping thick crimson that glistened in the red gloom.
‘So let’s kill,’ he growled huskily.
Jam sat in the dark frost-filled cold, breathing slowly. He watched the clouds of vapour exhaling from his twisted jaws and something pricked his memory; something was different. And then he realised, with a growing sense of horror, that his eyes had physically shifted. They were in a different place; his head had broadened, flattened, and his eyes had moved further apart, thus expanding his field of view - his
predator’
s vision.
He considered Carter - and their exchange.
He knew that he could kill Carter.
Ultimately, he knew that he
would
kill the man ...
But Carter’s words had disturbed him - somewhere deep down in his twisted soul. Jam had sensed the reluctance to fight. Carter had some long perverse connection with the past, some distant impulse of honour and friendship that Jam could understand in a cool and detached way. And Jam had been happy to slice the fucker in two, smash his bones into splinters and then piss on his grave. But the words ... the distant words from a warm and welcome deathbed ...
‘No, Jam ... stay here ... we need your help. Natasha is dying. Nicky is with her. We need the machine. The Avelach ... you know where it is ... it was used on you, Natasha will
die—’
Jam pictured Natasha’s face; her short dark spiked hair, her deep brown eyes and slim, athletic figure. Jam’s head tilted softly. He could see - see Carter and Natasha together, laughing, holding hands as they walked along the pier, kissing in the rain—
The images flickered.
And Nicky was there, her sweet oval face, piercing bright eyes filled with tears. Was she unhappy? he wondered. And if so, for what reason?
Words drifted to him—
Words from a million years ago—
‘It’s a war — Durell, and Feuchter
—
they brought us a war. They tried to wipe us out; now it’s time to give them a bullet up the arse.‘
And Nicky; smiling weakly, standing there on the ... on the Kamus, the disused Spiral base in the Austrian alps. ‘Yeah. But ... not everybody is going to make it back.’ Reaching up, suddenly, she kissed him - and their lips lingered, tongues darting.
Jam stared into her beautiful eyes.
‘I
need some company tonight,’ she said, voice husky, and she led him by the hand inside the cold confines of the dark and dank mountain base ...
Jam lowered his huge triangular armoured head.
He stared at the floor, remembering their lovemaking.
Something is wrong with me, he realised.
I loved this woman. Loved her.
And yet - yet now I feel...
nothing
?
He spat, and lifted his head once more, breathing deeply, making strange rasping sounds. But a connection - from the man he wanted,
needed
to kill, this Carter and the two women who touched him in some strange way in his dreams, in his memories - something hard to grasp, something esoteric twisted inside his head. He could hear the whisper of deep voices he could not understand.
And Durell?
And
Feuchter
?
Jam lowered his head again, and the deep coldness seeped into his limbs and into his brain. It soothed him. The cold calmed him, relaxed his mind. His worries bled away and his anxieties melted away and he rocked, on armoured heels that bit deep grooves in the stone cell
floor.
With tiny clicks his eyes closed.
The World Investigation Committee central headquarters in Washington DC was in a turmoil. Voices rang around the huge vaulted ceiling of the chambers in a myriad different babbling languages. Human and electronic interpreters babbled, adding to the confusion; and Runners sped between benches and tables, in and out of doorways.
Voices could be heard above the hubbub, rising shrill, borne on currents of anger, disbelief, outrage, frustration, incredulity—
‘I think he’s fucking insane ...’
‘But he’s got us by the balls ...’
‘Who is this man? I think it is one huge bluff!’
‘But haven’t you seen what he can do? The reports are flooding in from a thousand different media agencies - his is no insane dictator whom we can ignore ...’
‘The countries of the world should stand together, unite. We can mobilise millions of men and this Durell could not stand against such a tide of world strength—’
‘But who would lead the armies?’
‘Why, the USA, of course ...’
‘Why not the UN?’
‘I think China is the obvious choice ...’
‘We can crush this worm before he moves—’
‘Assassination would be more direct - a fucking sniper bullet in the back of the skull.’
‘Yeah, when we find him - but if he
is
controlling the earthquakes, then he can hit any central government, any capital city, any military installation in the world.’
‘It is a preposterous claim, impossible!’
‘Who is backing this lunatic? Which fucking countries? There must be some here who know of him. This is an outrage! It would spark a—’
‘World war.’
The words hung like a storm cloud on a static-charged summer evening: heavy, ominous - and threatening.
The wide oak doors at the head of the chamber slammed open, smashing against the walls with twin crashes. Slowly, the noise subsided as faces turned to peer at the man who stood in front of them, the man who -with his stern silence and bushy-eyed frown - commanded their attention.
He was a huge barrel-chested man.
He wore v-neck grey robes, with dangling rosary beads which bounced against his curly-haired chest as he walked.
His sandals slapped against the floor as he moved to stand on the Central Podium. All attention focused on him. Many of the world leaders knew the face but could not name its owner.
The Priest seemed to be angry.
Furious.
His face was red, lips curled back, beard damp with sweat. His intense gaze swept the gathered men and women in front of him, and he pointed, eyes bright and holding a glimmer of insanity. Then he pointed again, his mouth working spasmodically, and again and again and again until total silence descended on the chamber—
‘You
argue!’
boomed The Priest at last. ‘You stand here, with the power of the world at your fingertips, and you - you bloody
squabble
like monkeys over a dead maggot. You whine at one another like spotty children in a playground arguing over a lollipop. You must
decide ...
’
People began to shuffle their feet.
Nobody spoke.
The Priest began to rant, spittle flying from his lips and drenching his beard, ‘
Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men’s sins, and all manner of uncleanness
. .
His stare roved.
‘I say,’ began one of the English delegates, ‘that seems a tad harsh, old chap ...’
‘Shut up!’ screamed The Priest with the fury of God dashing like lightning in his eyes.
All eyes were on him now.
And he felt—
Filled. With the Power. With the Glory. With Divine Insight.
‘And almost all things are by the law purged with blood; and without shedding of blood there is no remission!’
Faces were turned towards The Priest; no one spoke. Despite their power, despite their learning and wisdom, in this moment of greatest confusion the leaders of the world only did not know what to do ...
‘And I saw as it were a sea of glass mingled with fire: and them that had gotten the victory over the beast, and over his image, and over his mark, and over the number of his name, stand on the sea of glass, having the harps of God ...
’
‘We should fight.’
‘No, he could destroy us. He has the power of the earthquakes at his fingertips ...’
‘How many infantry can you field? 80,000? 100,000?’ ‘Yes, but mobilisation takes time, and if he sees the armies of the world mobilising then he may attack first...’
‘May attack, will attack,’ boomed The Priest. ‘You have heard his demands, and you must here - and now -decide among yourselves whether this Durell is a threat to world peace. If you bow to his demands then decide here and now - with a single voice before God! But if you choose to fight - and a hard fight it will be - then decide it
now.
You do not have the luxury of time.
We
do not have the luxury of time. Things move apace, my brothers and sisters, and I beg you, before the Holy Father—’
Voices rose.
Squabbles broke out.
And The Priest looked down in despair at these, the most powerful people in the world, unable to decide upon the best course of action for the future of the whole planet.
Politicians, he thought sourly.
And slumped to the ground, listening to a hundred languages and a thousand dialects washing over him. People swarmed about him now, but The Priest ignored them. They shouted questions at him but he merely shook his head, clutching his Bible.
And by the end of the day they had made a decision.
The world leaders had finally made a decision.
They had
finally
decided to meet again in three days’ time after lengthy discussions - to make the ultimate and
final
decision.
Some countries wanted to fight.
Some pressed for peace.
Some would mobilise armies.
Some would prepare talks.
The unanimous agreement was disagreement.
The undisputed choice was a non-choice.
The definite decision was no true decision at all.
‘Chaos is finally here,’ muttered The Priest.
SIU Transcript
CLASSIFIED SR18/9257b/SPECIAL INVESTIGATIONS UNIT
Cracked ECube transmission
Date: October 2XXX
Section WORLD SCALE MOBILISATION INFORMATION/
Spiral Information Transcript
Selection: Units 12-18, from total info units 2844
-------------------------------------
US Army Pacific:
Hawaii - 35,300 troops mobilised from 2
nd
, 4
th
, 6”
h
and 9
th
Battalions and comprising 20
th
to
43
rd
Infantry Regiments; 400 soldiers from 30
th
through to 78
th
Aviation Battalions with UH-78 Black Hawk support; Paratroopers from 1-501
st
Parachute Infantry Regiment deployed; 3
rd
, 8
th
and 10
th
Battalion Field Artillery Regiments deployed. 16,000 troops from the 9
th
Theatre Support Command scrambled and put on High Alert, including USARJ at Camp Zama.
-------------------------------------
German Federal Armed Forces:
16,000 Mechanisierte Division troops mobilised, made up from Femmelde and Aufklarungs Batallions, Mechanisierte Brigades; also 3800 men from the Division Spezielle Operationen, Division Luftbewegliche Operationen and Heerestruppen-kommando units made up of Artillerie-brigade, Pionier-brigade, Heeresflugab-wehrbrigade, ABC-Abwehr-brigade and Logistik-brigade.
2400 jets have been scrambled across Europe and are currently on a state of High Alert, both Luftwaffenfiihrungskommando and Luftwaffenamt.
600 naval units have altered their patrol courses, both Flottenkommando - Flotille der Marineflieger and Zerstorerflotille, and Marineamt Kommando Marine-Fuhrungssysteme, Schulen der Marine and Marinestiitzpunkte.
-------------------------------------
Australian Army
A total of 52,000 personnel deployed from:
1 Armd Regiment; 1 Fd Regiment; 1 JSU; 1/19 RNSWR; 10/27 RSAR; 12/16 HRL; 12/40 RTR; 13 Fd Sqn 13 CER; 11 CSR (141 Sig Sqn); 16 RWAR; 2 Cav Regiment; 2 HSB; 2 RAR; 2/14 LHR (QMI); 2/17 RNSWR; 51 FNQR; 6 RAR; 7 Fd Bty 3 Fd Regiment; 7 Fd Regiment; 8 CSSB; 8 CER; 9 CSSB
-------------------------------------
The Chinese People’s Liberation Army Navy have mobilised over 2200 naval units including:
Destroyers
Type 956 Sovremenny
Type 054 Luhai
Type 07 Anshan
Type 520T Houjian
Type 343M Houxin
Type 021 Huangfeng
Amphibious Warfare
Type 074 Yuting