Alien Storm (18 page)

Sarah raised an eyebrow at him. “Since when did you get so cautious?”

“How do you think Makarov is going to react when he finds out we've been trying to break into his restricted area?” Alex asked.

“I don't know,” Sarah shot back, “but something's going on down there. I can sense it, even if I can't see it.”

Nestor nodded. “Sarah's right. However, we should take a vote on this. It affects all of us. Okay?”

There was murmured agreement around the group.

“Okay,” Nestor said. “All those in favour of Sarah checking out the lower levels?”

Sarah, Robert, Louise and Nestor all raised their hands. After a moment, Octavio reluctantly raised his also. Louise looked at Wei, who shrugged at her apologetically.

“It's good here, Louise!” he whined. “I want to stay!”

Louise glared at him. Finally, the Chinese kid raised his arm with a roll of his eyes.

All eyes fell on Alex, who folded his arms.

“Looks like I'm outvoted anyway, so what's the point?” Alex said to Sarah. “But if this is the way it's going to be, I'm coming with you. I want to make sure the group gets a fair report of what's down there.”

A smiled passed across Sarah's face as she rose from the grass. “That's good, because I'm going to need your help getting into the restricted levels.” She looked round the others. “The rest of you, just act normal. Well, as normal as any of you can manage.”

With that, she strode away towards the lift entrance.

Nestor gave an embarrassed cough. “Uh, meeting adjourned.”

Alex rose with a shake of his head, unable to escape the feeling that Sarah Williams had just got exactly what she wanted.

The war room on the HS
Ulysses
contained a circular table with a giant computer screen in the centre. Currently it displayed a map of the Pacific, showing the location of the ship – heading towards the west coast of the USA. Rachel Andersen, Commander Craig and five of the highest ranking officers on board were gathered around the illuminated communications table. The head of HIDRA, General Wellman, and several of his staff were participating in the meeting from the HQ in Paris via a link-up window on the screen. The grey-haired general poked his wire-framed spectacles back on his nose expectantly.

“Good morning, General,” Rachel said as she stood from her seat to address the meeting. “Gentlemen. I'm going to bring you all up to date on the latest report from our meteorite early-warning facility in the Philippines. It's not good. In fact, it's the worst possible scenario.”

The tension in the room was palpable as she brought up a series of black and white images on the big screen. They showed a misshapen object floating in the midst of the darkness of space.

“We picked up this object two days ago,” she explained. “Meteor P163. A ten-metre-wide object heading towards earth. Estimated strike time is just two days from now. Unfortunately, it's not alone.”

She brought up a new set of images from the Philippines observatory. These showed many such objects – irregular specks travelling through the void. A series of gasps and murmurs went around the room from those who hadn't yet seen the images.

“The new data shows a series of objects headed towards us,” Rachel went on. “We've detected thirty so far, ranging in size from ten to thirty metres across. Our astronomers think there might be more out there.”

“They're meteors?” General Wellman asked and Rachel nodded. “How far away are they?”

“The first should hit within the next forty-eight hours.”

Commander Craig shook his head. “How is that possible? Why didn't we pick these up sooner?”

“We're still trying to work that out,” Rachel replied. “Perhaps some kind of radiation from the lead meteor shielded the rest from our sensors. If it's any consolation, all the other monitoring stations missed them too, including NASA's. It's almost like they were hidden from view until they reached a certain distance.”

“Is it safe to assume these objects originate from the same source as the Australian and South American strikes?” General Wellman asked. “That they are probably infected with the fall virus?”

Rachel cast a look at their resident astrophysicist, Dr. Fincher, who was one of the few scientists in the room. He was a beanpole of a man, two metres tall, with a permanent shadow of stubble around his face. He stepped towards the central area so that he could speak.

“Their current trajectory suggests they come from the same quadrant,” Fincher affirmed. “Except they're significantly larger than those meteors and the number suggests a greater threat of contamination. Of course, when they hit earth, the fall virus will be the least of our problems.”

General Wellman raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

Fincher coughed nervously, aware all eyes in the room were turned towards him. “The Australian meteorite was about fourteen metres across and threw thousands of tonnes of dust into the atmosphere, General. This affected the temperature and weather patterns of the entire southern hemisphere for weeks afterwards. The result of thirty or more meteorites hitting the globe in quick succession would be devastating. The amount of material thrown into the sky would block out the sun for months, maybe years. Earth would spiral into a prolonged winter, shutting down food production, global communication and causing the biggest extinction event since the dinosaurs died out. Millions of people would die, perhaps billions.”

The room was silent as Fincher's words sank in.

“Can we stop them from hitting us?” Rachel asked. “What about the American defence satellites? Can they be turned against the meteors?”

Commander Craig shook his head. “The US missile shield doesn't come online until next year. It's just not ready. Maybe if we had a few months, some of our nukes could be used to deflect the storm. But not with only two days' notice.”

“Are you saying,” the general said, “there's no way we can stop these meteors from hitting the earth?”

Everyone looked at Fincher again. He closed his eyes and replied, “If we're lucky, a few of the objects might pass on by. But, yes, sir. We're going to get hit badly. There's nothing we can do to stop it.”

On the screen, General Wellman had gone a shade of white, as had most of the people around the room. “I'm initiating Operation Shield,” he announced finally.

The name,
Operation Shield
, sent a chill through Rachel Andersen, much like it had when she'd first read about HIDRA's top secret emergency protocol shortly after taking command. Like everyone else in the room, she knew that over the next few hours the families of all HIDRA personnel – hers included – would be transported to a network of underground bunkers located around the world. In these bunkers they would wait out the worst of the devastation in the hope of being able to rebuild the world at some time in the future.
Shield
was designed to be activated in the event of an imminent nuclear war or a massive virological outbreak, but it seemed that they were facing a different threat. The governments of every nation would be notified as well so they could put their own emergency procedures into effect.

“This information is to be kept absolutely confidential until we're ready to announce it,” General Wellman continued, his voice brittle. “The last thing we need is panic on a global scale. This is damage limitation, people. Over the next forty-eight hours we're going to save as many people as we can. Go to it! Dismissed.”

The room cleared out. Only Rachel, Commander Craig and Dr. Fincher remained behind.

“Was there something else, Colonel Andersen?” Wellman asked.

“There's some more data we'd like to show you, General,” Rachel announced, giving Commander Craig a nod. He tapped the central screen and a global map opened, showing the estimated meteorite strike locations around the globe. Each of them related to a major urban area: London, Tokyo, New York, Beijing – the list went on. The largest cities of the world were going to be hit.

“We've plotted the most likely impact sites based on the speed and trajectory of the meteors,” Craig explained. “General, this looks like a premeditated series of strikes to me. I'd say our cities are being deliberately targeted.”

“Amazing,” General Wellman gasped. “It can't be chance. Can it, Dr. Fincher?”

Fincher shook his head slowly. “There's about as much mathematical probability of these meteors accidentally falling on every major city in the world as there is of a blue elephant appearing in this room right now.”

The general snorted and rubbed his chin. “This throws a whole new light on proceedings. Are we saying what I think we're saying?”

Rachel nodded. “A coordinated attack on the earth from an extraterrestrial source. Would you agree, Commander?”

“It looks like we're at war,” Commander Craig affirmed. “We just don't know who – or what – with.”

“Unfortunately we don't have the luxury of speculating on that matter at the moment,” General Wellman asserted, regaining his composure. “For the next forty-eight hours all our resources have to be directed towards making sure our people are safe. Colonel Andersen, I want you to turn your ship towards the HIDRA base in Hawaii. There's a bunker there. Get your people to it at any cost.”

Rachel coughed, a little nervously. “That's what I wanted to speak to you about, General. I want permission to turn the
Ulysses
around and head for the Chuckchi Peninsula in Russia.”

Wellman frowned. “The site of the last meteorite strike?”

Rachel nodded and told him about her previous conversation with Makarov and the abduction of the children. “He knows something about the meteor storm. I can feel it.”

“Forgive me, Colonel, but I need something a little more than your feeling to go on,” the general replied curtly.

Fincher stepped towards the table. “We had our satellite run a scan of the Chukotkan wilderness, General. Makarov has a skyscraper there – built in the middle of nowhere. We picked up a strange energy signature.” He touched the table screen and a satellite photo of the Spire appeared. “It's like nothing we've ever seen before, but it seems to be beaming a signal into outer space.”

“Guess where that signal is pointed,” Rachel said. “Right at the meteor storm.”

Wellman rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if suddenly tired. “First you tell me that it's the end of the world. Now you want to point a warship at one of the most influential businesspeople in the world. For god's sake, Makarov plays golf with the president. He—”

“General,” Rachel interrupted, “the end of the world?”

Wellman sighed. “What do you intend to do when you get to Russia? Sit off the coast getting a tan while the meteorites fall all around?”

“No,” Rachel replied, “I intend to investigate that signal and level that skyscraper if necessary.”

Wellman laughed. “And start a war with Russia at the same time?”

“I think the Russians will have better things to worry about than Makarov, don't you, General?”

Wellman stared at her for a moment, before finally relenting. “Okay, take the
Ulysses
to Chukotka. Investigate the signal and then get your people to the bunker in Hawaii. I didn't listen to you once before, Andersen, and Colonel Moss made me look like a fool. I'm not going to make the same mistake again.”

Rachel smiled. “You won't regret this, sir.”

“I sincerely hope not,” he said.

The video screen died. Rachel looked across the table at Commander Craig.

“Turn this ship around,” she ordered. “We're going after Makarov.”

22

Three a.m. Sarah moved as silently as possible along the corridor on the 144th floor. Ahead walked one of the workers, apparently oblivious to her presence. But as Sarah approached the bend in the corridor, something unseen grabbed her wrist.

Alex.

Don't sneak up on me like that
, Sarah thought as he took her hand in his. Almost immediately, she saw her arm begin to fade out and become invisible.
I can't believe it
, she told him as she became transparent.
This is a weird feeling
.

Well, get used to it fast
, Alex replied, pulling her along the corridor.
We have to keep up with that woman or we won't be getting onto the lower levels tonight
.

Sarah nodded, although she knew there was little point when you're invisible. It was a strange sensation to be moving forward when you can't see any part of yourself. Almost like your eyeballs were floating along with no body.
Strange
. She tried to concentrate on the job at hand.

Running as silently as possible, they reached the central area of the floor, where the woman was waiting for the lift to arrive. She stared directly ahead, completely unmoving.

They really are like robots, aren't they?
Alex thought.

Before Sarah could offer her opinion, the lift doors opened and the woman stepped through. Moving on tiptoes, Alex and Sarah slipped inside and pressed themselves against the side wall. The woman stood stock still in the centre of the car as it began to descend the fifty-four storeys down to the 90th floor, the lowest level that it could access.

The lift doors opened and the woman walked out. Before they closed, Alex and Sarah darted through and followed a few paces behind. The corridor into which they'd stepped ended at another lift, marked Floors 11–89: Restricted Access. The woman placed her hand against a palm-print scanner and the doors opened.

Now, let's see what Makarov is really up to
, Sarah thought as they went in after the woman.

The lift descended just five floors, to the 85th, before opening again into a deserted kitchen area. Rows of industrial-sized cookers and work benches gleamed in spotless chrome – clearly designed to cater for hundreds of people if necessary. The woman walked out of the lift and headed across the kitchen in the direction of a set of double doors.