Read The Reckoning: Quantum Prophecy Book 3 Online
Authors: Michael Carroll
“Laurie and I are on the way back to the States now,” Victor said. “Should be there in about nine hours. We—”
There was a burst of static from the phone. Yvonne said, “Victor?”
“What was that? Sounded like…Oh hell.”
“What’s wrong?”
Yvonne heard Victor yelling, “Take evasive action!
Now!
”
“Victor!”
Evan Laurie’s voice called, “Cross, there’re two fighter jets out there! They look like—”
There was an almost deafening
boom
.
Yvonne nearly dropped the phone. “Victor? What’s happening?”
“We’re hit! Starboard wing’s on fire! Can’t see who…They’re firing again! Oh God…Yvonne, we’re going down!”
“Who is it, Victor? Who’s firing at you?” She could hear the wind howling through the Learjet’s cabin.
Victor coughed. “Can’t see anything…Smoke everywhere!”
There was another
boom
and Victor screamed. “My leg! I’m
trapped…Laurie’s dead! Oh God…I’m sorry. Yvonne, this is not the way I wanted…I…It’s over, Yvonne! It’s all over! You have to…”
Yvonne swallowed. “Victor?”
The connection went dead.
Yvonne stared at the phone.
Shaking, she let it drop to the floor.
She stood up and walked toward the door of her apartment, opened it and stepped out into the hallway.
She knew that the Trutopians’ command HQ was less than a mile away. From there, she would be able to track the path of Victor’s jet and find out exactly where it had been shot down.
And she knew that the Trutopians’ computers monitored every military operation in the world. She’d find out who it was who attacked the Learjet.
I’ll find them and I will kill them. Victor was wrong. It’s
not
over.
It’s just beginning.
Victor Cross walked through the silent corridor of the hotel and entered the elevator. He pulled off his fake beard, then opened his shirt and removed the padding from around his waist. He straightened his back, adjusting his posture.
By the time the elevator had reached the hotel’s lobby, he had completely shed his Reginald Kinsella persona. With his jacket bundled up under his arm, he walked through the lobby and out into the Trutopian community in Satu Mare.
Reginald Kinsella was the one man that every Trutopian knew on sight, but the people on the streets passed him without a second glance.
As he passed a trash can he casually dropped his jacket, beard and padding into it. He knew that the can—like all the others in this perfect and efficient Trutopian town—would be emptied before morning.
Cross walked the short distance to the public parking lot, found the Toyota he’d arranged to be delivered there and climbed in.
He drove to the southern gates and flashed his fake ID to the guards. They scanned it, checked it on their computer and saw that he was a visiting librarian from Budapest.
The guards waved him through and Cross drove north toward the border with Hungary.
After five miles he pulled the car off to the side of the road and flipped a switch on the package under the seat, then walked west across the fields, whistling quietly to himself. Behind him, the Toyota suddenly erupted into flames.
A low, steady whipping sound came from the west, and in minutes the unmanned Apache Arbalest touched down almost directly in front of him.
He squeezed into the small cockpit and activated the radio. “You there?”
“I’m here,” Evan Laurie’s voice said. “The reports of the Learjet being shot down are just coming in.”
“Colin?”
“If he hasn’t gotten lost, he should be reaching the mine right about now.”
“Perfect. Trigger the news reports about the mine collapsing. I want them fed to every major news source before the Lieberstanian government gets a chance to deny them. Now let’s
get this chopper in the air. You’re sure this thing can cope with the cold?”
“Definitely.”
“Good. I don’t have superhuman strength, so keep the speed down, got it?”
“Got it. Let’s just hope that Yvonne was fooled.”
“I’m sure she was. And if not, then…Hey, you know me. I always have a backup plan.”
Still shaken from the terrifying flight in the Arbalest, Colin Wagner scrambled across the rocky landscape toward the only man-made structure for miles around.
Even though he had seen the satellite photograph, the platinum mine was bigger than Colin had expected. An area that was easily the size of ten football fields had been leveled out. The fifty-meter-high rust-streaked dome in the center of the clearing dwarfed the surrounding buildings. The ground was mostly concrete, poured so long ago that grass, plants and even a few trees had grown up through the cracks.
The entire perimeter was surrounded by a six-meter-high fence. At first glance the fence seemed flimsy, almost laughably inadequate, but Colin could sense the electricity pulsing through it.
Running along the inside of the fence was a three-meter strip of concrete that looked different from the rest: It was clean and smooth, and seemed somehow colder.
By focusing his enhanced vision, Colin could see that the strip wasn’t what it appeared to be: It was thin sheets of metal painted to look like concrete.
A pit, probably. God only knows how deep it is.
So how do I get in without being seen?
There were steel poles set at fifty-meter intervals along the fence, each one holding an array of cameras, constantly moving, scanning the area on each side of the fence.
Could be infrared cameras,
Colin thought. He concentrated on his body temperature, allowing it to drop to that of the surrounding area.
As he watched, a large door set into the base of the dome rumbled open and a man walked out, followed a few moments later by four others. All five of the men were carrying machine guns.
Keeping as low as he could, Colin moved closer.
Then the mine workers began to emerge, one by one, and Colin knew that going back was not an option.
The workers’ hands were cuffed and they moved forward in unison: a slow, half-dead shuffle, forced to march in step because of the heavy chains that linked their ankles.
It seemed to Colin that most of the workers were men and women in their thirties and forties, though he found it hard to be sure of their ages because of the layers of dust and dirt that covered their entire bodies and ragged clothing.
Kinsella was right. It’s a labor camp.
One of the workers in particular caught his attention. He was much smaller than the others. Colin focused on him and saw that he was a boy, not more than six years old.
Colin covered his mouth with his hand. He was unable to look away, a sickness churning his stomach as more prisoners
filed out. One emaciated woman was missing both of her hands: Instead of cuffs, a thick strap had been fastened around her torso, binding her arms to her sides.
Then Colin realized that there were also people emerging from the surrounding buildings, these groups being led toward the dome.
God, there’re
hundreds
of them!
One pair of doors in the dome—much larger and heavier than the others—was now rumbling open. A dozen armed men emerged, walking backward, their weapons aimed back through the doorway. Something huge and blue began to move out of the shadows.
Colin adjusted his vision to peer into the darkness…And he now knew why he was here, why it had to be him and no one else.
He began to run, straight toward the electrified fence.
An alarm sounded and Colin could hear the whines of the cameras’ motors as they all turned in his direction. He leaped at the fence, landed three meters up and felt a surge of electricity ripping through his body, powerful enough to instantly kill any human being on contact.
But Colin Wagner was not a human being. He tore a hole in the fence and pulled himself through. A shower of sparks arced through the air as he landed on the far side of the hidden pit.
He raced toward the enormous dome and, as he ran, concentrated on building up a powerful electrical charge.
The closest prisoners were the first to see him coming, but being chained together, they couldn’t do anything to get out of his way.
His feet pounding on the rough ground, Colin leaped over the terrified, stick-thin men and women, landed, rolled to his feet and kept running.
The guards began to panic, aiming their guns toward him, and Colin blasted them with his lightning. He was aware that his charges were powerful enough to cause the men serious injuries.
He didn’t care.
“I’
VE NEVER EVEN
HEARD
OF
L
IEBERSTAN,”
Danny said as he and Renata strode toward General Piers’ office.
“Me either,” Renata said. “The news said that the entire mine has collapsed on itself. There’re over a hundred workers trapped and no way to get them out. That’s where we come in.”
When they reached the office, they found that the door was already open and Façade and Warren were talking to the general.
“What do you want?” Piers barked at Danny.
“We heard about the situation in Lieberstan. We were just wondering when we’re being sent in.”
“As I was just telling Titan and Façade here, you’re not. We’ve been talking to the Lieberstanian embassy, and they’re insisting that nothing has happened.”
Renata said, “General, they’re lying!”
“They’re not. And it’s not your concern, Renata.”
Façade said, “We’ve been hearing a lot about Lieberstan lately. Even if the reports of the mine’s collapse are false, we should go there anyway. But the general won’t let us.” He turned back to Piers. “Because he knows the truth. He knows that the mine’s output is less than a third of what most people believe. The U.S. government pays Lieberstan three billion dollars a year for platinum that doesn’t really exist.”
“That’s enough!” the general shouted. “Not another word.” He slid open a drawer in his desk and placed his hand inside.
Façade ignored him. “No matter what happens there, you’re not going to be sent to Lieberstan. The platinum is just a cover for the money changing hands. The Lieberstanian government is actually providing us—and a lot of other countries—with a specific service. They’re—”
“I warned you!” General Piers whipped a silver pistol out of the drawer.
There was a blur, then the pistol was no longer in his hand: Danny was handing it to Warren.
“Thank you, Danny,” Façade said, his face grim. “They won’t send you…They won’t send you because if you go to Lieberstan you’ll find out what’s been going on there.”
“What do you mean?” Renata asked.
“We found out the truth, and it looks like someone else did too. The mine didn’t collapse; it’s under siege. It’s Colin. We know he was in Romania, heading east—somehow he must have learned the truth about the mine. We’ve only just confirmed its existence ourselves. Colin attacked the place, and right now he and the workers are fighting the Lieberstanian army. General Piers knows that if you go there, you’ll take Colin’s side.”
He looked at the general. “You’re worse than any of the people you condemned to death when you sent them into that place!”
The general roared, “Façade, you will be
shot
for this! This is treason!”
Façade leaned on the general’s desk, glaring at him. “You filthy…” He stood back, his fists clenched. “Warren. Give me the gun. I swear to God I’m going to ventilate this guy’s skull!”
“No,” Warren said. “We’re not going down that road.”
“I’ve already left,” Façade said, leaping forward, his hands grasping for the general’s neck.
Then something invisible stopped him, kept him from moving any closer.
Standing in the doorway, Butler Redmond shouted, “What’s going on here?”
Renata said, “You heard about the platinum mine in Lieberstan?”
“It’s
not
a mine,” Façade said, as the force-field dragged him back from the general’s desk. “It’s a
prison camp
! There are people high up in the government who know all about it. Same with the Canadian government, the Australians, practically every country in Europe, Africa, South America, Asia…”
“Is this true?” Butler asked Piers.
“Yes,” the old man said, his teeth gritted. “It’s true.”
To Danny, Façade said, “Have you ever wondered what happened to all the supervillains who were captured over the years? Your real father spent a decade in a secret prison in Nevada. That’s because they didn’t know who he was, and they considered him to be relatively harmless. But what about the other supervillains? What about Terrain, and Slaughter and Brawn?”
“They’re in Lieberstan?”
“They, and a whole lot more. According to our sources, there are almost four hundred prisoners in the camp. Most of them have never even had a trial. Fewer than fifty are actually supervillains. The rest of the prisoners are their associates, and their families. Since the camp was established thirty years ago, eighty-one children have been born there. Born into a life of captivity just because their parents were criminals.”
General Piers extended a trembling hand toward the glass of water on his desk. “How…How did you find out?”
“Ragnarök’s mother,” Warren said. “She told me everything, told me where to look. All the details checked out.”
Butler said, “But she’s just an old woman. How did
she
know…” His face fell. “Oh God. She was there too?”
“She was. And right now she’s waiting to be sent back there.”
“That is absolutely unforgivable!” Renata said. “You can’t send an eighty-year-old woman to work in a mine!”
Danny said, “So now Colin’s there and he’s organized the prisoners in a revolt. Good for him. He’s about to get some help. We’re going in. We’re going to rescue them all, and we’re going to shut that place down.”
“No you are not!”
Piers yelled. “Most of those prisoners are there for a good reason. Have you any idea what releasing them would do to the world’s political structure?”
“No,” Renata said. “And we don’t care.”
“Redmond?”