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Authors: A. G. Taylor

BOOK: Enemy Invasion
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“Where are you two going?” Sarah said.

Louise looked over her shoulder. “We’re going to find Robert. We’re with him.”

They left without another word.

Alone in the rec room, Sarah stood completely still for a moment, took a deep breath and tried to process everything that had happened in the last half-hour. When the intelligence had come
through that Major Bright was alive, she knew it was only a matter of time before HIDRA would have to go into battle against him again. And she knew that once again her brother and her friends
would be dragged into the fight. Now that their mother was gone, along with their father, Daniel (who they had only been starting to get to know when he was taken from them by the fall virus),
Sarah was the one responsible for making sure Robert was safe. Sending him to rescue a kid from Hong Kong was one thing, but the thought of him having to face Major Bright once more was something
that worried her desperately. She just didn’t know if she could face seeing him, or Louise and Wei, in harm’s way once again.

“Everything okay?”

She started at the sound of Commander Craig’s voice from the doorway of the rec room. He’d appeared there and she’d been so deep in thought, she hadn’t even heard
him.

“Just thinking about what’s coming,” she said. “Another fight with Major Bright. I promised my mum before she died that I’d look after Robert. I’m supposed to
be keeping him out of danger.”

Craig shook his head. “You worry too much.”

Sarah laughed. “He’s hell-bent on facing off against an insane military commander with superhuman powers to rescue a kid he hardly knows. Yeah, I guess I am being
overcautious.”

The commander raised an eyebrow. “Robert seems to understand the risks. He isn’t running away from the fight.”

“Neither am I,” Sarah said indignantly. “I can take on Bright myself. But not Robert…” Her voice cracked and she stopped talking. It was only in moments of danger
that she realized just how much she cared for her brother. If something happened to him, she didn’t know what she would do…

“Like I said, you worry too much,” Craig said. “You need to clear your head. Sparring room. Fifteen minutes.”

With that, he turned and left before she could argue. Alone again, Sarah wondered if she was the only one (contrary to what Lesley the psychologist might think) who hadn’t gone crazy on
this ship.

 

10

After the plane landed, Hack was led down the ramp by two of the mercs to a waiting jeep. One took the wheel, while the other bundled him wordlessly into the back. Thankfully
Marlon Good had already disembarked and left in his own vehicle. Hack did as he was told without protest. He was intent on taking in every detail of his new surroundings – trying to find some
clue as to his location.

Judging by the position of the sun, he estimated it was just before midday. This meant that the plane had been in transit for about nine hours. The air was incredibly humid and the temperature
was in the high thirties. Seabirds swooped overhead and Hack thought he heard the sound of waves crashing as the jeep pulled away from the plane, suggesting they were on an island or near the
coast. The heat and the vegetation around the runway – palm trees and dense jungle – suggested a semi-tropical location in the Pacific.

The jeep sped along the runway towards a control tower and a pair of hangars in the distance. As they drew closer, Hack counted more mercenaries, all dressed in the same camouflage uniform and
heavily-armed. They reached a security check at a chain-link fence and passed into a compound that included two hangars and a group of smaller buildings. Military equipment was parked all around:
tanks, trucks, helicopters.

This Major Bright guy isn’t messing around
, he thought.
It’s like something out of
Modern Warfare
.

The jeep pulled up outside a group of weather-beaten concrete buildings that looked as if they pre-dated the rest of the camp. The merc beside Hack grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out.
Opening a steel door, the soldier led him down a corridor to another door. This led into a cell no more than a few metres across. There was no chair. No bed. Just hard, bare walls and floor. An
iron-barred window was set high in the back wall.

“Home sweet home,” the merc said and pushed him inside.

Hack spun as the door slammed shut and several bolts slid into place. His heart sank. He would have given anything for an electronic keypad or magnetic locks to subvert, but the cell was as
low-tech as you could get. There wasn’t even a light fitting in the ceiling.

As the merc’s bootsteps echoed away, Hack stepped forward and ran his fingers over the door hinges. They were solid, but the brickwork was crumbling around them. After a second’s
thought, Hack removed the belt from his jeans and scraped the metal buckle against the brick experimentally. It gave. He pressed harder with the buckle and more of the wall became brick dust.

“Don’t do that.”

Hack turned. He’d assumed he was alone in the cell, but now he made out a figure sitting against the far wall in the shadows. He strained his eyes and saw that it was a girl, about his age
and Asian in appearance, although her accent was Australian. She looked painfully thin and wore a tattered T-shirt and jeans. Black hair hung around her shoulders in straggles. She met his eyes and
he could see her face was dirt-smeared, as if she hadn’t washed in weeks.

“If you mess with the door, they won’t feed us for a day,” she said.

Hack took a few steps towards her and kneeled down in the middle of the cell. “Who are you?” he asked.

The girl turned to the wall, avoiding his gaze.

“How long have you been here?”

The girl looked round at him and he could tell from her tear-filled eyes that she’d been in the cell for a very long time.

Most of the Oshino compound consisted either of decrepit brick cells like the one in which Hack had been placed, or prefabs that doubled as weapon storage facilities and
barracks for the mercs. There was one exception: a circular, single-storey building in the centre of the camp. Communications masts and dishes adorned the roof and the curved walls were mirrored
glass, reflecting back the camp and surrounding jungle. There was only one entrance and this was constantly guarded by two mercs bearing machine guns.

Those few members of the camp allowed access to the command centre found themselves inside an air-conditioned environment kept to a comfortable twenty-two degrees at all times. In a tech room
that took up half the building, security operatives monitored air and sea traffic for hundreds of kilometres around the island. The rest of the circular structure was given to Major Bright’s
personal living quarters.

In a perfectly round chamber in the middle of the building, Major Bright sat in a leather examination chair, not unlike the kind in a dentist’s surgery. He was stripped to the waist,
revealing an incredibly muscular upper body that bore a strange, black mark spreading across his skin. A grey-haired doctor in a lab coat hovered nervously over the major, an ultrasound scanner in
one hand. He pressed the scanner head to Major Bright’s chest and moved it up and down. On a monitor beside the chair, a grainy image of Bright’s internal organs appeared.

“Is it a boy or a girl, doctor?” the major asked, looking at the screen.

“It’s a ten-centimetre-long rock fragment,” Dr. Cameron said and indicated a dark object next to Bright’s heart. “Lodged inside your ribcage. Frankly, I’m
amazed it didn’t kill you. Care to tell me how it got there?”

Bright drummed his fingers impatiently on the chair arm. “I tripped on a meteorite. Can you remove it?”

Dr. Cameron replaced the scanner in its cradle. “Well, that would be a little risky.”


Risky
how?”

“The shard is partially embedded in your heart. Removal could have serious side effects. For the moment, at least, I recommend leaving it where it is.”

Major Bright rose from the chair and towered over the other man. “Excuse me?”

Dr. Cameron laughed nervously. “You seem to be doing just fine with it in there.”

Bright jabbed his fingers at the black, scaly skin spreading across the right side of his chest and up his neck to his cheek. “
Doing just fine?
Take a look at my face!”

“You could always get a second opinion.”

Bright narrowed his eyes. “You
are
the second opinion, doctor. My last physician got…fired.”

The merc at the door chuckled. The doctor’s face drained of blood.

“I can try to stop the spread of the infection,” Dr. Cameron said. “Maybe even reverse the process with a retro-virus. The process is experimental, but—”

Bright slapped the doctor on the shoulder so hard he almost knocked him to his knees. “That’s fine, doc. I’m used to experimental.” He nodded to the merc. “Take Dr.
Cameron to his new lab. Make sure he’s well looked after.”

As the soldier approached, Cameron’s face fell. “You don’t expect me to stay here?”

“I absolutely expect you to stay here. Ask for any equipment you need and my men will have it for you within twenty-four hours. Money is not an issue.”

“But my practice in Sydney—”

“You work for me now, Dr. Cameron. And I expect you to earn your ten million dollar advance.” Major Bright’s tone was such that it was clear there would be no argument. The
merc took Dr. Cameron by the arm and led him from the room.

Alone in the chamber, Bright walked to a sink against the wall and examined his reflection in the mirror. The black, alien mark had moved further up his face overnight. Ever since the meteorite
shard had become embedded in his body, following the destruction of Makarov’s tower in Russia, the infection had begun to spread. There was no doubt it would kill him eventually – few
beings had the psychic strength to live for long in such close proximity to the alien material, that much he sensed. The shard was keeping him alive, but its massive power was also slowly killing
him…

For the time being, however, there were benefits: superpowers stronger than he had ever experienced before, courtesy of the Entity, the alien intelligence that channelled itself through the
shard. Where previously he had relied on serum developed from the blood of the superhuman children for his strength, now he had a seemingly limitless pool of power. The shard in his body also
provided a psychic link with the ancient, evil being across an immeasurable vastness of space. Again, something that was a blessing and a curse.

Another doctor?
the Entity’s voice rang in his head.
Anyone would think you wanted to get rid of me.

“The mark is spreading,” Bright replied. “It’s like a cancer.” He wet a sponge under the tap and dabbed at his skin with cooling water – the only thing that
seemed to give him any relief from the aching pain of the alien flesh.

Merely a side effect of close proximity to my power
, the Entity said.
Would you prefer to lose your strength? Go back to relying on the blood of children for your superpowers?

Bright threw the sponge into the sink and stormed to the medical cabinet by the chair.

“I want to live!” he snapped as he popped a couple of pain pills and washed them down with a glass of water. “What are you turning me into?”

The Entity laughed.
So paranoid. We’re a team, remember?

“I didn’t sign up to become a lizard.”

I need a different vessel for my earthly form. The girl, Sarah Williams, is the only human I have encountered with the mental strength to contain me. It is our destiny to be joined.

“Right,” the major said. “And when you’ve joined with the girl, I get tossed away like Makarov, do I?”

No, no. You will have your reward: you will retain the superhuman abilities I have gifted you… Gain control over the human enclaves of the world… Your own armies to
command… All the power you could ever imagine…

“Well, I can imagine a lot of power.”

A soldier rapped on the half-open door.

“What is it?” Bright demanded, annoyed at the interruption.

“The plane from Hong Kong has arrived, sir. Marlon Good is waiting to see you.”

Bright set the empty glass down. “Send the fool in.”

Be nice
, the Entity warned.
We still need his money and technology.

“For now.”

A moment later, Marlon Good appeared in the doorway and gave a funny little salute – like a boy playing soldiers. Major Bright ground his teeth, but made no comment.

“You have the boy?” he said.

“Of course,” Good replied. He walked to the middle of the room and flopped into the chair as if he were exhausted. “Hard night’s work, though.”

“You threw one of my men out of the plane.”

“I had to make a point. Shake the kid up a bit.”

Bright moved closer. “If you ever touch one of my men again...”

Good’s eyes widened and he flinched back, as if certain the major was about to strike him. The blow didn’t come. Instead, the anger drained from Bright’s expression and he took
a long breath before taking a couple of steps back – almost as if something internal had pushed a pause button on his anger.

Good produced a USB drive from his pocket. “I got the HIDRA database,” he said hurriedly, eager to please.

Bright’s expression hardened again and he snatched the drive from Good’s fingers.

“Well?” Good asked. “Did I do okay?”

“Yes,” Bright said grudgingly. “You did good,
Good
.”

He walked to a computer by the wall, inserted the drive and opened up the stolen datasheets. He scrolled through scores of files giving details of virus-altered children. Everything was here,
from details of their special abilities to contact addresses and next of kin.

Perfect
, the Entity’s voice said inside Bright’s head.
Perfect.

“HIDRA’s been busy,” Bright said aloud.

They have been using Sarah Williams to track down children with the viral side effects. It appears there has been a significant jump in their numbers since the destruction of the meteor
storm.

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