Code Name Firestorm (6 page)

“Hi!” said Agent J, raising a hand in greeting.

“We’re just closing,” said Blackwater impatiently.

“It’ll only take a minute,” Agent J replied cheerfully. “Promise. Need some expert advice!” His secret-service training has given him plenty of practice at adopting undercover identities.

“We’re open tomorrow at nine,” grumbled Blackwater.

“I don’t mind paying full price,” said Agent J. “Budget, no problem. Just point me in the direction of the top stuff and I’m out of your hair.”

Blackwater sighed. “What is it you want?” He quietly slid the speaker and screwdrivers to one side.

“You’re a star!” Agent J grinned. “I’m looking for one of those, er, what-they-called, where you can stream stuff from your phone and hear it all over the house?”

Blackwater nodded. “A network media player.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. I need the lot: speakers, player, you know. Will I need a new Wi-Fi router?”

“Not necessarily,” said Blackwater. “What sort do you have now?”

While Agent J distracted Blackwater, the robots quietly headed for the speaker. Chopper and Sabre hovered along close to the ceiling, while Nero, Widow and Morph crawled up a rack and onto the counter.

“I’ve scanned a couple of items on these racks,” said Nero. “One of them contains exactly the same sort of modified circuit board that we found in those speakers. It’s inside a radio.”

“I’ve found one too,” said Morph. “There’s a dock here with an identical circuit.”

The robots’ sensors quickly established that there were thirty-seven items in the shop which had also been altered. Almost all of them were expensive items on sale at unusually low prices.

“Blackwater must sell them to unsuspecting customers, who then become puppets for Firestorm,” said Chopper.

Nero scurried up onto the broken speaker and through the hole Hercules had made. “I’ll need some help getting Hercules free,” he said. “He’s bulkier than the rest of us!”

“It may be better if we all help,” said Chopper. “We’ve got to get Hercules out of there as fast
as possible. If Blackwater takes the back off the speaker and discovers that a micro-robot stag beetle is in there, our cover is blown. That must never happen.”

Agent J was doing an excellent job of keeping Blackwater busy. He was getting Blackwater to open up boxes and show him various types of equipment.

Sirena, outside the shop, kept her sensors trained on the street, but there was nothing suspicious to report. She also monitored everything Blackwater was doing.

“You may not have long to free Hercules,” she said. “Blackwater is getting noticeably impatient. He’s probably itching to return to the speaker and find out why it broke down.”

“Logged,” said Chopper. All five robots were now inside the speaker. “Widow, seal the hole for the time being, just in case it’s spotted.”

“Logged,” said Widow. She adjusted the settings of her thread-making mechanism and fired a coiling line of web at the hole that exactly matched the colour of the speaker casing. The thread formed a neat, flat plug.

Meanwhile, the robots made detailed scans of Hercules. “Four of his legs are fused into the circuit board,” said Nero. “I can cut around the board, but it will take 42.9 seconds.”

“It would be quicker to simply snip through the legs,” said Sabre. “He can be repaired back at HQ.”

“My pincers don’t have enough power to do that,” said Nero. “He’s the toughest of us all. Hercules is built to withstand direct sledge-hammer blows and other explosive impacts.”

“Also, we couldn’t risk leaving even minor mechanical parts behind,” said Chopper. “Anything like that might threaten the secrecy of SWARM.”

“Whatever you do, do it quickly!” said Morph.

“Morph’s right,” said Sirena, from outside the shop. “Analysis of Blackwater’s body language shows he’s trying to get Agent J out of his shop.”

Agent J was getting the same impression. Although, at that moment, he wasn’t tapped into the robots’ communications, he knew they’d need time to get Hercules out, but he could see that Blackwater was getting jittery.

“Have you decided? Only, like I said, I’m closing.”

“Sorry, yeah,” grinned Agent J. “What was the output of this system again? The silver one?”

“Look, I want to get home today, OK? If I leave too late, I hit the traffic.”

“Sorry, sorry, yeah, you’re right! I know I go on! My girlfriend’s always telling me to shut up.”

“I know how she feels,” said Blackwater with a fake smile.

Inside the speaker, Nero’s pincers were snipping into one end of the circuit board. At the other end, Morph was flattening himself to squeeze between the board and the speaker’s casing, in order to force the two apart.

“We can’t have more than a matter of seconds,” said Chopper calmly.

“I think,” said Agent J, “I’m going to go for … the silver one. No! The red one! No! The silver one, definitely.”

Blackwater had lost patience. “Oh, make up your mind. Do you want to buy this thing or not?”

“Oh, I do, I do. You’ve been really helpful, Mr Blackwater. I’m so grateful for your expertise.”

The robots spotted Agent J’s error in less than a micro-second. Blackwater himself noticed it almost immediately. Agent J was so intent on keeping Blackwater busy that he didn’t realize what he’d done.

“Can’t we communicate with him?” said Nero.

“No, he was using his smartphone in the car,” said Chopper. “There wasn’t time for him to place an earpiece before we had to rush over here to the shop.”

“He’s in danger!” said Nero.

Blackwater reached over the counter and produced a set of chunky headphones. He put them on his head, shuffling them slightly to ensure a snug fit over his ears. “You’re going for the silver one, then?” he said with a smile.

“Oh, yes, definitely,” said Agent J. The headphones puzzled him, but before he could ask about them, Blackwater picked up the radio he’d been working on earlier. This was one of the items containing one of the mysterious extra circuits.

“We do some great radios,” said Blackwater. “This is the latest digital receiver.”

By now, Agent J was nervous. He’d spotted the change in Blackwater’s attitude. A moment later, he realized the mistake he’d made. Blackwater had never mentioned his name.

“Thanks, I’ll take the silver one, then,” bluffed Agent J. “And some extra speakers. How about that one on the counter there?”

“Let me give you a demo of the radio,” said Blackwater, ignoring Agent J’s words. “Remarkable sound quality.”

He twisted a dial.

Suddenly, the shop was filled with a weird, pulsating sound. It was high-pitched and wavering, like the scream of some sort of hideous monster. Agent J winced and screwed up his eyes, unable to stop the throbbing noise slicing through his thoughts.

Even the robots’ sensors were partially affected by the intense sound waves. They shuddered and flinched, feeling shaken and dizzy.

Henry Blackwater watched Agent J impassively. The noise-cancelling headphones kept him shielded from the sonic vibrations that reverberated all around the shop.

Slowly, Agent J stood up straight. His face had become expressionless. His eyes were glazed and unfocused.

Blackwater switched off the radio. The pulsing sound died away. He removed his headphones and placed the radio back on the counter.

“How did you know my real name?” he said, staring angrily at Agent J.

“You were photographed,” said Agent J flatly. “A few minutes ago. My HQ managed to ID you.”

“Your HQ?” said Blackwater. “Where is your HQ?”

“In London.”

“How did you find me?”

“Analysis of the circuits. Inside the speakers.”

“What?” spluttered Blackwater. “That’s not possible! How did you do it?”

“Not me. Other agents.”

Inside the speaker, the robots’ electronic brains had resisted the hypnotic effects of the sound. However, they were still readjusting their sensors and struggling to regain their normal functions.

“Agent J!” said Sabre, feeling slightly dazed. “He’s under Blackwater’s control!”

“He’ll tell Blackwater about SWARM!” said Chopper.

CHAPTER SIX

“Call Sirena!” said Morph. “She’s closest to them!”

“She doesn’t have the weaponry needed to stop Blackwater,” said Chopper.

“No, but I have!” said Sabre. “Nero, remove Widow’s plug of webbing!”

With a swift punch from his pincer, Nero knocked out the web that Widow had spun to disguise the hole in the back of the speaker.

Meanwhile, Blackwater was still questioning Agent J. “Other agents?” he said, eyeing Agent J suspiciously. “What other agents? Who are you working for?”

Sabre buzzed across the counter. Staying low, so that Blackwater wouldn’t spot him, he zipped across the shop then dived down towards floor level, his needle-like mouthparts whirring forward. A memory-blocking pellet was loaded up. He swooped at a small patch of sock, visible between Agent J’s shoes and the hem of his trousers, and injected the pellet into Agent J’s heel.

“Amnesia sting delivered,” signalled Sabre.

Agent J flinched slightly. His eyes flickered.

“Logged,” replied Chopper. “He hasn’t worked with SWARM very long. That sting should remove his memory of us, and of SWARM HQ.”

“Poor Agent J,” said Morph, “he’ll need to meet us for the first time, all over again.”

“This is an emergency,” said Chopper. “It had to be done.”

Meanwhile, Blackwater was staring into Agent J’s eyes. “Are you listening to me?”

“Blackwater has been wiping the memories of his victims,” said Nero. “Now he’ll get what humans call a taste of his own medicine.”

Agent J’s memory of SWARM had gone, but he was still under Blackwater’s hypnotic influence.
“Yes. I’m listening.”

“I asked who you’re working for,” said Blackwater.

Agent J seemed confused for a moment. Then he said “I work for MI5. I’m an MI5 agent.”

Blackwater’s face became a storm of fury and alarm. The robots were alarmed too.

“The sting’s effect hasn’t been strong enough!” said Sabre. “I’ll deliver another!”

“No,” said Chopper. “Those stings are designed to remove recent memories only. A second may cause permanent damage to Agent J’s brain. It’s too late, Blackwater knows that Agent J is part of the secret service. Agent J worked for MI5 for a long time before he was recruited by SWARM.”

Blackwater took hold of the lapels of Agent J’s jacket. “Say that again?” he whispered, through gritted teeth.

“I work for MI5,” said Agent J.

“Who sent you here?” demanded Blackwater. “Which section chief?”

“I … I don’t know,” frowned Agent J. “I … work for MI5…”

“I’ve been betrayed,” muttered Blackwater to
himself. “That low-down worm is trying to double-cross me!”

“Who does he mean?” said Morph.

“This confirms he’s being helped from inside the secret service,” said Chopper. “What’s more, we now know he’s being helped from inside MI5 itself!”

Outside in the street, Sirena was still positioned on the wall above the shop’s window. “I’ll transmit a full report to SWARM HQ,” she said.

“Logged,” said Chopper, inside the speaker.

Blackwater was pacing around the shop. His hands tapped together nervously. “Think, think, think,” he said. “OK, they know about
this
place, but they don’t know about
my
place.”

He turned to face Agent J. “Confirm Firestorm Control, baseline alpha one.”

“Confirmed,” said the hypnotized Agent J.

“Go back to your HQ. Tell them you’ve investigated Trendi Soundz thoroughly. Tell them there’s nothing suspicious here. They got it wrong.”

“Nothing suspicious,” said Agent J. “Confirmed.”

“You’ll forget you ever met me,” said Blackwater.
“As far as you’re concerned, this shop is run by … er, let’s see … by a tall, curly haired woman called … Daisy Brown.”

“Daisy Brown, confirmed,” said Agent J.

“She offered you a cup of tea. She was very helpful. MI5 have got it all wrong about this shop.”

“Very helpful,” said Agent J. “Got it all wrong. Confirmed.”

“Now go!”

Agent J turned and walked out of the shop. He headed across the street, then headed off in the direction of Tottenham Court Road.

“He doesn’t even remember he drove here,” said Sirena.

“You stay with Agent J,” said Chopper. “Signal HQ to pick him up. We’ll remain here, to keep track of Blackwater.”

“Logged,” said Sirena. She fluttered into the air, and followed Agent J down the street.

Blackwater stood in the window, watching Agent J walk away. “Let’s hope that keeps them off my back for a while,” he mumbled. “It won’t work for long, though. Better hurry.”

While Blackwater’s back was turned, Sabre
returned to the speaker. He darted back through the hole Hercules had made and Widow immediately resealed it.

“Blackwater now thinks MI5 are closing in on him,” said Nero. “His logical next move would be to speed up the Firestorm plan.”

“We still don’t know the full extent of that plan,” said Chopper, “or what exactly he means by the word ‘firestorm’.”

Blackwater collected a large holdall from behind the counter. He bustled around the shop, dropping various tools and electronic equipment into it. He paused when he came to the speaker in which the SWARM robots were hiding. He hesitated, not sure whether to take it with him or not. In the end, he scooped it up and squashed it into the bag alongside everything else. “Might as well find out why this thing malfunctioned,” he added.

He switched the sign on the door from “Open – Bargainz Inside” to “Closed – See Ya Laterz”. He locked the front door of the shop from the inside, then pulled down a security grille inside the window and padlocked it.

Next he picked up his holdall and hurried behind the counter, through to the shop’s small back room, which was piled high with stock and paperwork. Beyond that, past a heavily secured metal door, was a small car park. He dumped the holdall on the back seat of his large, rusty hatchback.

“Be careful,” he mumbled. “Always be careful.”

From his pocket, he pulled a device that resembled a calculator. He entered a short code into it. Inside the speaker, the robots’ network was suddenly swamped by a fuzz of static. To counteract the effect, each insect fired a tiny, fibre-optic line to the robot next to them, forming a circle around which data could be rerouted.

“That’s better,” said Morph. “I don’t like being out of touch. My sensors feel strange.”

“That device of his is powerful enough to block all kinds of signals,” said Nero. “Some of our sensor readings will experience interference, as well as our communications.”

“Why is our recent upgrade to deal with signal jammers limited to fibre-optic lines?” said Morph. “Couldn’t Professor Miller devise a way to
overcome them entirely?”

“The only way to do that is to boost power output,” said Nero. “We are very small. To generate enough energy, we’d have to carry around power cells the size of beach balls. It’s simple physics. We have many advantages over humans but nobody’s perfect. Blackwater must be worried about the possibility of being tracked or monitored.”

“He’s extremely cautious,” said Morph.

“Hercules would make a joke about him being bugged,” said Sabre. The stag beetle beside him remained dark and silent, burnt out and lifeless.

“This means we’ll be out of range of HQ until he turns it off,” said Chopper. “However, we must all remain in place here. Preventing Blackwater from carrying out any further attacks must be our first priority.”

“I’ll continue to cut Hercules free,” said Nero.

The robots could feel that the car was now in motion, although Blackwater’s signal blocker stopped their sensors keeping track of exactly where they were, and where they were going.

“At least we know why he added the extra
circuits into these speakers,” said Sabre.

“He sold them to unsuspecting, and otherwise unconnected, members of the public,” said Chopper. “The speakers would remain in his customers’ homes, operating normally, until he activated the hypnotic wave circuits built into them. Then, those customers would become his servants.”

“He must have relayed detailed verbal instructions to each victim through the speakers too,” said Sabre. “He’ll have told them where to collect all those gadgets, and how to operate them.”

“The victims wouldn’t even remember hearing the hypnotic signal,” said Chopper. “Blackwater will have ordered them to forget it. If any of the attacks were foiled, as we foiled the first one, then he would remain undetected, in the background.”

“It’s a clever way of committing crimes by remote control,” said Sabre. “Blackwater is clearly a genius at electronics.”

“Although,” said Nero, snipping at the circuit board around Hercules, “he hasn’t been clever enough to outwit us.”

Blackwater’s car drove on through the streets of central London. By now, it was late afternoon. Darkness was creeping across the city.

“Agent K is picking up Agent J and Sirena now,” said Alfred Berners. He tapped at a large screen in the SWARM laboratory. “Poor Agent J’s going to have a very confusing couple of hours!”

“We’ll have to worry about that later,” said Queen Bee. “Is Blackwater’s signal blocker still operating?”

“Yes, at full power,” said Alfred. “We’ve no way of knowing where the rest of the SWARM are until either it’s turned off, or one of the robots can get far enough away from it.”

“We can trust them to act correctly,” said Queen Bee. “In the meantime, is there any way we can track Blackwater’s movements from here?”

“I’m afraid not, Ms Maynard,” said Alfred. “We don’t know precisely what to look for. We don’t
know if he’s walking, or in the Underground, or in a car. The robots couldn’t ID any vehicle or method of transport before they were cut off.”

Simon Turing appeared, hurrying across the lab to intercept Queen Bee. “Agent K reports that the home address listed for Henry Blackwater is a dud. He lived there until about six months ago, but he’s not there now, and his current address is unknown.”

“Have you been able to mine more background data on him?” said Queen Bee.

“I have,” said Simon. He called up information on the tablet he was carrying. “Henry Blackwater, forty-nine years old, born in England but spent most of his childhood in the Far East. His parents were both British electrical engineers, employed by a big international company. When Blackwater was twelve, terrorists tried to take over the area they were living in. Sixty people, including Blackwater’s family, were held hostage for five weeks. MI6 agents, along with security forces from other countries, stormed the terrorists’ compound. The raid was a total mess. The terrorists killed most of the hostages, including
Blackwater’s parents and his two brothers.

“Henry was one of only three survivors. As you can imagine, as he grew up his attitude towards the terrorists who’d killed his family, and towards the secret services who’d bungled their rescue, wasn’t exactly positive. He was a ‘troubled’ young man, who got involved with various political extremist groups. Despite that, his talents for electronics, chemistry and engineering were astounding. He was judged to have a glittering career in technology ahead of him.

“However, instead of that, he applied – believe it or not – to join both MI5 and MI6, as well as the CIA in America and several more security services across Europe. All of them turned him down. He was reckoned to be unstable and potentially violent. The interview panel at MI5 believed that he was only making these applications so that he could ‘destroy the system from within’. Psychological assessment at the time said he was suspicious of others and hostile to authority. And also that he talked to himself a lot. For many years he scratched a living mending phones and computers. A few months ago, he seemed
to vanish completely, then turned up running Trendi Soundz. Because of his background in revolutionary politics, MI5 have had him on their watch list for almost thirty years.”

“What a strange and unhappy life,” said Alfred Berners sadly. “But if MI5 are supposed to have him on their watch list, how come they don’t know his current address?”

“I think we can put that down to Blackwater’s MI5 contact,” said Queen Bee. “It appears we’ve found another official record that’s been deliberately deleted.”