Enemy Invasion (8 page)

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Authors: A. G. Taylor

BOOK: Enemy Invasion
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“I’m pretty much out of energy for tonight.”

“Then let’s get going.”

They took the fire escape down to ground level and exited via the back entrance of the GC. It was the long way round, but Hack decided that it was best to keep to the side streets as much as
possible. For all they knew, Hui had accomplices watching the GC for their exit. Despite the heat of the night, they made a good pace, running side by side through the back alleys, which were all
but deserted now that the markets and shops had closed.

“You really saved Jonesey and me tonight,” Hack said as they ran across an intersection. “Sorry for trying to ditch you earlier.”

“Don’t worry,” Robert said. He looked drained after the last two teleports. “I know it’s hard to trust people. That trick back there was pretty cool, by the way.
What did you call it?”

“The energy wave?” Hack said. “It was just something I thought would work. I’m still learning what I can do with my power.”

“We all are,” Robert replied with a grin.

Hack took a left towards Nathan Road. Kowloon’s main drag was as busy as ever – cars, buses and scooters fought for space across four lanes of traffic. The street was ablaze with the
neon light of a thousand adverts. Every direction was an assault on the eyes, but Hack knew exactly where he was going. The Tin Hau temple was directly opposite. The pedestrian crossing went green
and they ran across the street and down the narrow alley that led to the main entrance of the temple.

When it was built in the nineteenth century, the temple had overlooked the bay. Now two kilometres of reclaimed land separated it from the water. It stood amid the noise and chaos of one of Hong
Kong’s busiest districts. High-rise buildings overlooked it on all sides. Nevertheless, it retained a strange kind of quietness. The Buddhist temple stood at the far end of a square
surrounded by trees and a wall that ran the perimeter. The place was typically deserted this late in the evening, which is why it had been chosen as the extraction point, Hack guessed.

As they entered through the south gate, it appeared they were alone – then Hack noticed something completely out of place and almost hidden in the shadows of one of the trees…

In the centre of the square sat a small, black helicopter – albeit one with no visible rotor blades. A hovercopter. It looked like a fat-bodied beetle sitting in the darkness. A pilot in a
jumpsuit stepped from behind the machine as they approached. He had a gun in his hand.

“It’s okay,” Robert told Hack. “He’s with us.” He held up a hand and waved at the pilot. “Our communicator got fried!”

The man ran to meet them, shouting something… Hack looked up and saw the lights of another vehicle floating above the trees… A second hovercopter...

A whooshing sound filled the air as a rocket tore through the trees and hit the vehicle on the ground. The machine exploded in a brilliant ball of flame that threw out lumps of red-hot shrapnel.
The blast knocked the pilot forward onto his face. Hack and Robert were hurled backwards as the force of the explosion hit them.

Momentarily stunned, Hack lay on his back looking up at the branches above. A rocket streaked through the air and there was a second explosion – one which lit up the night sky. The second
hovercopter was hit.

Robert grabbed Hack’s arm. “It’s coming down!”

Sure enough, the vehicle that had been hovering almost silently above them had become a fiery lump of metal hurtling to earth. The two boys scrambled for their lives, running blindly in the
direction of the temple at the far end of the park. As they reached the steps leading up to the building, Hack looked over his shoulder – and saw the second hovercopter fall through the tree,
setting its branches ablaze. It hit the ground with a mighty crash, showering more shrapnel about. Hack thought of the pilot with the gun and wondered if he’d managed to avoid the impact
– it was impossible to tell in the inferno.

“In here!” Robert exclaimed, kicking open the temple door.

They both ran in and crouched in the shadows on either side of the entrance. The interior of the temple was almost pitch-black. The smell of incense hung thick in the air. Hack pressed his face
against the gap where the door met the wall and scanned the fiery mess outside.

“What just happened?” he said, breathing heavily. “I thought HIDRA was supposed to be like a private army or something. Why are people shooting at you?”

“We’ve got powerful enemies,” Robert replied.

“Great. You could have told me that before—”

Gunfire cut him short. Both boys hit the floor as bullets ripped into the brickwork and through the wooden door. A second later, the firing stopped. Hack and Robert exchanged a glance and then
looked back through the door. The fire was still blazing, but Hack counted at least four figures crouched by the temple steps.

“Robert Williams!” a man’s voice yelled. The accent was British. “All Major Bright wants is the kid. Send him out and we’ll leave you alone. Make us come in there
and you’ll get hurt.”

Major Bright.
Hack recognized the name instantly: the scary-looking guy from Jonesey’s internet research. Even in the darkness he was able to see the shock on Robert’s
face.

“Bright,” Robert whispered to himself.

“Well, guess we know who’s been following me all week,” Hack said. “So, what’s the plan?”

Robert looked at him with a pained expression. “I don’t have enough energy to teleport both of us out of here…”

Hack understood. “Just yourself, right?”

Robert nodded. “But I’m not leaving you.”

“Oh, yes you are—”

More gunfire flayed the front of the temple.

“You’ve got thirty seconds!” the man yelled.

“You saved me twice tonight, Robert,” he said. “Looks like we’re outgunned this time.” He considered their situation. “What do you think this Bright guy wants
with me?”

“I don’t know,” Robert said, “but he’s bad news. If Bright’s taking an interest, it can’t be for anything good.”

“Thanks,” Hack said wryly, “don’t try to sugar-coat it or anything.”


Twenty seconds!

“Are you going to get out of here or not?”

Robert hesitated just a moment longer, before reaching inside his jeans pocket and removing a metal object that looked like a miniature gun.

“Give me your arm,” he ordered. Hack rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. Robert held the object against his skin and pressed a trigger. Hack winced as a needle darted in and out of
his skin.

“I’ve just injected you with a GPS tracker,” Robert explained. “We’re going to find you and rescue you. I promise.”


Ten seconds!

Hack rubbed his arm and pulled his sleeve over the mark. “Okay! Okay! Get out of here!”

Robert nodded – and disappeared.

Suddenly, crouched in the darkness of the temple, Hack felt more alone than he ever had in his life.


Time’s up!

Hack pulled open the temple door and stepped outside. He felt the heat from the burning hovercopters on his skin and held up a hand to shield his eyes from the light. Four towering men
approached – each holding a rifle in his hands and dressed in combat gear.

The one whose voice Hack recognized as the leader said, “That’s a good boy.” He was thin-faced to the point of looking like a skeleton – not a nice look. Two days’
worth of greasy stubble adorned his face and a name tag on his chest read
Kotler
. He turned to one of the others. “Prep him for transport.”

Two of the men grabbed his arms while another threw a hood over his head, drawing a cord tight around his neck so it stayed in place. They pinned his arms behind his back and secured his wrists
with a plastic tie, leaving his ankles free so he could walk unassisted. The hood was heavy and incredibly claustrophobic. Hack’s breath came in ragged gasps as he began to panic.

“Take it easy,” one of the men said, grabbing his arm and shaking him. “Just breathe slowly.”

He did just that and his heart rate regulated. The panic began to subside. He was led away blindly by the soldier as gunfire erupted behind them. Hack assumed they were shooting up the temple
and was very glad that Robert had teleported away.

The door of a vehicle slid open noisily and he was thrown onto a metal floor. Seconds later, the engine started and the vehicle screeched away at high speed. Hack fought to rise into a sitting
position, but a heavy boot pushed him back again.

“Keep down,” Kotler’s voice said. “Or I’ll put you down.”

Hack did as he was told and lay still. Having survived falling off a building and being shot at by an insane Triad member all in one evening, he now found himself a prisoner.

He just hoped Robert had one more rescue in him.

 

8

Hack tried to keep track of time as he lay on the floor of the van. He estimated that an hour passed before it skidded to a halt – long enough to reach the outskirts of
the city. It was impossible to tell for sure with the hood over his head, but he guessed they had driven towards the New Territories in the north, or even the border with mainland China. Doors
opened. One of the soldiers pulled him roughly to his feet and guided him along. After a few metres they ascended a slope and, from the sound of engines and the vibration of the room, Hack sensed
that he had been loaded aboard a plane.

He was made to sit (not easy with his wrists bound behind his back). The engine noise increased in volume and the plane began to move. As it picked up speed, Hack felt the vehicle angle up and
he realized they were taking off. Where was he being taken? It could be anywhere. He began to breathe too fast again as the panic rose.
Keep it together,
he told himself.
You’ve
survived this far.

The plane levelled off and seconds later boot-steps approached. Someone loosened the cord around his neck and pulled away the hood. Hack’s vision swam as his eyes adjusted to the
light.

Sure enough, he was inside a plane. This was no passenger jet, however. The interior was a bare cylinder with benches along either side of the fuselage. At one end metal crates stood next to a
ramp. Because the cabin was not pressurized, the engines were deafening. Hack realized that he was on some kind of military transport – in the rear cargo bay, by the looks of it. Directly in
front of him, a bearded soldier stood with the hood in one hand.

“I’m gonna cut your wrist bindings,” he said. “Try anything stupid and I’ll put the hood back on your head. Understand?”

Hack nodded to show he understood very much. The plastic bindings had long since started to dig into his skin, stopping circulation in his arms. The soldier removed a wicked-looking knife from
his boot and signalled for Hack to get up. He cut the restraint cleanly and replaced the knife.

Hack rubbed some blood back into his wrists and thanked the man.

“Sit down and behave,” the soldier said, giving him a shove towards the bench.

Hack sat and continued to massage his numb arms. The soldier took the bench opposite and stared ahead blankly. The man’s uniform was coloured camouflage green, but Hack saw no flag or
emblems indicating any country. His accent was British, like the man in charge at the temple, but Hack didn’t think he was with the British army – or any army, in fact. He was a
mercenary – a soldier for hire to the highest bidder and, as such, could be working for anyone.

“Where are we going?” Hack asked.

The soldier’s eyes focused on him. “Shut up or I’ll gag you.”

Hack looked at his feet. As the feeling came back into his arms he sensed an ache above his left elbow and remembered the tracking device Robert had injected. The thought that someone knew and
cared where he was being taken was the only glimmer of hope he had.

At least half an hour passed before the door at the other end of the cargo bay opened and two more soldiers entered. They took positions on either side of the entrance as a third person stepped
into the room: a thin man in his thirties dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, looking completely out of place beside the bulked-up mercenaries. He pushed his thick glasses back on his nose as he
scanned the interior of the cargo hold. His eyes fell on Hack and he smiled as if recognizing an old friend. Hack, for his part, knew the man’s face well enough, although they’d never
met in person…

Marlon Good – the head of Goodware Inc.

“So, you’re the kid who bypassed all my security systems,” he said. His American-accented voice was reedy and almost drowned out by the roar of the engines, so he moved closer
to Hack. He offered his hand for the boy to shake. Hack didn’t take it.

Marlon Good said, “No hard feelings, huh?”


You…
You stole Jonesey’s game.”

Good’s face fell, as if he were hurt by the accusation. “Oh, come on! Your friend sent me a shoddy little idea ripped off from
Robot Unicorn Attack
. I took it and made it into
one of the best-selling apps on the planet! You’re not seriously suggesting that he deserves any credit, are you?”

“You stole his idea.”

Good shrugged. “Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree on that one.”

“Is this why you kidnapped me?” Hack said. “All we wanted was the evidence of Jonesey’s original game. We didn’t take anything else.”

For a moment Marlon Good looked genuinely confused. Then he broke into a high-pitched laugh. “Please! You don’t really think that all this is about a
game
, do you?”

He turned and snapped his fingers at one of the soldiers by the door. The man stepped into the other chamber and reappeared with a laptop, which he passed to Good.

“I’ve been looking for someone like you for a long time,” he explained, taking a seat beside Hack. “Ever since the fall virus started ramping up human evolution, I knew
there would eventually be someone with a power I could use. A power like being able to interface with computer systems with your mind.”

Hack shifted nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Marlon Good said with a wink. “But let’s say that there
was
a person who could do that… Well, he could influence the future of
computer development. And as computers control the world, the possibilities for that person would be endless. Given the right support. You get my point?”

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