Spiral (43 page)

‘Enough games,’ snapped Carter. He slapped the butt of the Barrett across Feuchter’s head, knocking the older man sideways to lie, stunned, on the polished marble tiles.

‘Why was I betrayed? Why did you try to kill me in Germany?’

Silence.

Feuchter was staring at the floor.

Carter knelt by Feuchter’s head, where a string of blood and saliva connected him to the floor. Feuchter grinned, showing his tombstone teeth.

He spat, then sat up slowly.

‘You will never understand, little man.
Never
understand.’

‘Make me understand.’

‘How long have you got?’

‘As long as it takes.’

‘Wrong answer,’ said Feuchter. ‘You have precisely fourteen minutes and he checked the cracked face of his Rolex ‘— fifteen seconds. Then the cubes of electronically linked HighJ chemical explosive at strategic locations around this building will fire a huge firework display right up your dumb and questioning arse.’

‘You’re lying,’ said Carter.

‘Why would I? It’s not like you can’t check.’

‘Carter,’ said Natasha. ‘If it’s true, we’d better get the hell out of here.’

‘Not without answers,’ said Carter. ‘And if there are HighJ devices, then I can disable them. There isn’t a device worldwide that I haven’t been able to shaft. Hey, Feuchter, why do you think I was in a fucking DemolSquad?’

‘You can try,’ said Feuchter softly. ‘These have no disabling mechanism. You cut the power, they blow. There was never meant to be a second chance, never meant to be a back-door escape.’

‘Where’s the master?’

Feuchter did not reply.

Carter shoved the muzzle of the Barrett under Feuchter’s chin, then dropped it to his crotch. ‘Ever seen a man with his cock blown off? I know we’ve only fourteen minutes left, but what a blissful and intensive fourteen minutes it will be ... it will seem to last for ever, trust me on this ...’

Feuchter met Carter’s dark gaze. He swallowed dryly.

‘Over there. At the foot of the central pillar, in the small black case.’

Feuchter’s words were weary, filled with pain - and a touch of fear. But there was triumph there as well: an ultimate final triumph. Feuchter believed that he had won - no matter what they did to him, no matter what pain they put him through.

Both Carter and Natasha acknowledged this.

Carter moved over to the pillar, knelt, and flipped open the black box. LED digits flickered at him. There was no visible countdown - but then, why should there be? Whoever set such a machine working already knew the risks and the timings—

Carter analysed the wiring. It was insanely complex. And the detonation was handled by processor. He scratched at his stubble.

‘Shit. Shit fuck.’

Primary, secondary and fail-safe binary protection circuits. The HighJ Master was incredibly complex. And Carter knew it - maybe if he had two hours to spare and some high-tech disabling equipment then he might just stand a chance.

But with the minutes counting down ...

And worst of all...

Feuchter knew it. Knew that Carter was shafted.

Carter returned slowly and glanced up at Natasha. Both Nats and Feuchter saw the look on his face: it was not a
nice
look; it did not convey what could be termed ‘brotherly love’.

He turned and moved to stand in front of Feuchter.

‘Hold out your hand.’

‘Carter, this will gain you nothing.’

‘Do it.’

Feuchter obeyed, and the rifle muzzle lifted to touch Feuchter’s palm.

‘No jokes, no fucking wisecracks. Just answer my questions. First, why did you try to kill me?’

Feuchter met Carter’s gaze.

‘It’s complicated.’

The shot cracked, the bullet smashing straight through Feuchter’s hand and scattering an explosion of feathers from the sofa. Feuchter grabbed at his wounded paw, head bowed in pain, blood pattering onto the tiles. ‘Are you fucking crazy?’ said Feuchter thickly, his voice having risen an octave.

Carter placed the rifle against Feuchter’s shoulder.

‘Wrong answer. I repeat, why did you try to kill me?’

‘You were in the wrong place at the wrong time; things got accelerated, we moved forward too quickly and we needed to wipe out some of the opposition before they realised they
were
the opposition.’ He met Carter’s gaze. ‘You are one of the best, Carter. It’s why you were chosen to die.’

‘You are part of the splinter faction from Spiral? Why would you do this?’

‘Spiral?’ Feuchter laughed, a laugh laced with pain.

‘
Spiral?
You dumb fucker, the only thing this has to do with Spiral is how fucking
weak
Spiral has become ... fucking sycophantic government-arse-licking sons of bitches, they have the world in their hands and yet they do not know what to do with it.’ He laughed again, drooling.

Carter’s face had gone pale. He bit his lip, cast a quick glance to Natasha, then prodded Feuchter with the rifle. ‘Who are you working for?’

‘Myself.’

‘And the processor? The QIII? Where does it fit into this?’

‘The processor,’ said Feuchter thickly. His head hung low, his eyes no longer meeting Carter’s burning gaze. ‘The QIII. It is so powerful, so incredibly powerful - the WorldCode threw up a list of names that could compromise the very existence of the processor. It used probability equations, worked out which of the DemolSquads was the most dangerous and who we should take out. Your name was on the list.’

‘You are not working alone, Feuchter,’ said Carter softly. ‘Who else is playing the game?’

‘Durell, one of Spiral’s top ops.’ The name sprang easily to Feuchter’s lips and he smiled, smiled inside; he remembered. Durell was supposed to have
sorted Carter out.

Sort
this
out, you fucker, he thought.

‘Durell sorted the QIII list; instigated the WorldCode. He was the one who sent the Nex after you. He was the one who ordered the deaths of the DemolSquads. Me…’ Feuchter met Carter’s gaze. ‘Hell, Mr Carter, I am just an innocent party.’

He smiled, and his teeth were stained with blood.

‘Where would we find this Durell?’

‘Let us say he is constantly
mobile
.’ Feuchter barked a laugh on a fine spittle spray of blood.

‘Where is he, you fucker?’

‘I don’t know, Carter. I don’t know.’

Carter scratched at his stubble. He glanced again at Natasha; she had moved closer to the door, both guns held low. It was obvious that she wanted no part of this ‘torture’ but equally obvious that she needed to hear the answers as much as Carter did—

‘Is Gol dead?’

‘I believe so.’

‘So you do know of him?’

‘Only through Spiral. We worked together for a brief spell, many years earlier. On a project that was - ah, shall we say
shelved.’

Carter stared hard into Feuchter’s eyes, and the man met his gaze, cradling his hand, his huddled figure coated with blood.

‘What are the Nex, Count Feuchter?’

‘The Nex ...’ Feuchter’s eyes widened a little. Then a strange smile crossed his face, revealing his cigar-yellowed tombstone teeth filmed with blood. ‘Ah ... the Nex ... they are ...
something else
.’

Feuchter’s gaze suddenly lifted to something past Carter, something outside, and Carter knew that they were out there—

‘Nats—’ he began to scream as he launched himself over the couch, but everything was drowned out by the sudden roar of automatic gunfire. Glass shattered deafeningly as it exploded into the lobby of the Spiral_Q building; bullets smashed across marble tiles and against pillars; they tore into the finely carved reception desk at the far end of the hall, chewing wood and thudding up into plaster.

Everything was madness—

Everything suddenly a bright mayhem—

And then—

Silence. Dust drifted, motes spinning on beams from the fancy inset lighting.

Carter scrambled along behind the row of couches and plants, and eased his face around a marble pillar. He saw Natasha, crouched, huddled foetus-like behind the doorway, wedged between the wall and a marble-faced pillar. She glanced up. Carter gave a quick succession of hand signals ...

Stay.

Wait.

Check weapons.

Carter glanced left; he could not see Feuchter from his new position but he could hear the man. At first he thought he was choking... but then he realised with a gritting of teeth that Feuchter was
laughing.
The fucker was laughing.

‘You want to know about the Nex?’ called Feuchter. ‘Ask them yourself, Carter - go on, ask them yourself!’ He roared with laughter again as Carter sighted the sniper-scope on the doorway ... he spun the dials, shortening the scope’s focus. The next person to step across the threshold was dog meat...

Everything happened at once—

And it happened fast—

The Nex charged; there were three of them. Carter squeezed the Barrett’s trigger and saw the lead Nex take the bullet in the face and spin up into the air before being tossed, twisted and twitching violently, to the ground.

The other two tracked him—

Opened fire—

Carter dropped the rifle and sprinted low across the Spiral_Q reception area, using the couches and plants for cover. Bullets ate marble at his feet. He dived, rolling behind a pillar and then skidding, slipping around on the highly polished surface to face—

Natasha.

The Browning sailed through the air.

Carter caught the familiar heavy bulk of the battered gun, placed his back against the pillar and whirled into the open—

The Nex had gone.

Carter dropped to a crouch, head snapping left, then tracking across the room. The first Nex lay, brains leaking onto the marble, one leg still twitching. Why didn’t I hear them? screamed his brain.

‘They must have come back for Feuchter,’
said Kade softly, a ghost whispering at the back of his mind.

There was a movement - a change in shadow density. Carter slid around the pillar and could see the Nex nestling in the shadows by the glass-and-alloy lift, eyes tracking - and it saw him. Carter’s Browning was already up and firing, bullets ripping across the lobby, smashing the Nex back into the gloom.

Carter retreated a little, still in a crouch. He checked Natasha. She had scrambled even further back into the little niche behind the doorway. Good girl, he thought to himself. Don’t do anything stupid—

The gun touched the side of his head, metal pressing gently.

There was a long pause.

‘Don’t make any sudden movements,’ came the soft asexual voice.

Carter grinned a nasty frozen grin.

‘You fucking dimwit
,’ sighed Kade.
‘There were three of them! I thought you knew that. You saw three come in. You shot two. The third sneaked around you, had tagged your location while you were firing
...’

‘Gun on the floor. Do it. Now.’

Carter - moving very slowly - placed his Browning on the marble tiles with a
clack.

‘Stand. Slowly.’

Carter stood, gaze roving, searching for a way out.

‘Move over towards Feuchter.’

Carter began a slow walk; he did not glance towards Natasha’s position but he knew that she could hear them, hear the exchange. He moved gradually into the view of—

Feuchter.

Despite his wounds, despite his pain, the man was smiling. He was positively beaming. He struggled into a sitting position on the bullet-riddled couch, and then glanced casually at his watch.

‘Three minutes, Carter. Gonna be a marvellous fry-up.’

‘Ask him what he wants,’
said
Kade.

‘What do you want, Feuchter?’

‘You see, lad, that’s the difference between you and me. You always want something. Whereas I - I want nothing. I have resigned myself to death; in fact, I’m amazed that I have lived this long. My only pleasure now is to watch your stupid flat face get blown apart. And to know that you died in the dark. To know that you died without answers. To know you died wondering where the QIII -where Spiral - where the Nex all fitted into this fine puzzle... you really have such low expectations of your enemies.’

‘You can do one good thing, Feuchter. You can let Natasha go. She has nothing to do with this - nothing at all. Let her walk away from here. She is an innocent.’

‘Oh, I dispute that, my friend!’ said Feuchter softly, his intelligent eyes twinkling in the subdued lighting. ‘She is one of us, Mr Carter. Natasha Molyneux is Gol’s daughter and she is on
our side.’

D
eep dark space kicked up and around Jam from the Austrian valley below, and vertigo battered him with its fist. There was a tiny
buzzing
sound as he sped down the wide cable, a tiny dangling figure suspended over an infinite darkness, a wide maw open and salivating at the prospect of his tasty flesh. Jam pinned his heels together, lifted his knees to his chest, and focused.