David Leadbeater - Weapons of the Gods

“With us.” Alicia pressed her words upon him. “Together. We’re a family, Yogi. You know that.”

The Russian smiled at the perennial nickname. “At least you have stopped calling me a girl.”

“Well, only for today.”

“Then, that is better. I will return to Russia tonight. I have to go.”

Drake fought all the protestations, all the offers of companionship. Sometimes, a person had to do something by themselves. It was the only way to overcome the old demons.

“Just keep in touch,” he said softly.

“And never forget we’re here for you,” Alicia added.

Yorgi turned away from them, tears in his eyes. “I never will,” he said. “For as long as I live.”

Karin Blake almost instantly regretted her decision to infiltrate FrameHub.

They were a small bunch of supergeeks that had managed to take control of three countries’ weapons systems, making two of those countries fire upon each other. They were lethal, super-intelligent and wholly uncool. Self-proclaimed gods, they were connected through a computer to everything that held a microprocessor, and some things that didn’t. They used ridiculous code words for names and held the belief that knowledge was power — so they intended to gain infinite knowledge. Currently, they comprised of eight members and wanted Karin for their ninth.

Based on her old reputation.

Karin was a soldier now, a newly trained deserter to be precise, and she’d brought her two almost identical colleagues along — Dino and Wu.

All well-trained and eager to fight, they went to Egypt with one agenda and came away with another. This confused Dino and Wu, but it was Karin’s party. Always would be. They respected and looked up to her.

Their lives, under her leadership, looked good, hungry and full of potential.

They had no idea what was coming.

For now, Karin had said goodbye to Drake and the team after the Great Pyramid battle, tucked her main agenda away for a later date, and turned to rooting out the terrible, destructive organization that was FrameHub before it caused death and agony to any more innocent lives.

She returned their invitation email, hinting that she might be interested in talking. She returned another, then jumped through some hoops proving she could crack an easy code — for her — over the Internet.

This allowed her into a secret web-room.

There was more progress, by the day and then by the hour. They really wanted her. Dino and Wu got bored very quickly, unused to sitting around with no clear plan in sight.

“I have to get inside first,” Karin told them constantly. “That’s how this works.”

“They’re geeks, Blake,” Dino reminded her. “Let’s just take ’em out.”

“Now that’d look very embarrassing, Dino,” she said. “When they take you out. You don’t get it. They’re into everything. The best thing you can do is to not figure on their radar.”

Dino laughed. “What are they gonna do? Fry me with a cash machine?”

“How about hijacking a self-drive car to run you down? Using stop lights to make a van swerve into your path? Something easier — like using one of the army of mercs they employ?”

Dino jumped on that. “So you’re walking into a joint guarded by a merc army? No way.”

“No, no.” Karin fought to remain calm. “It’s not like that. FrameHub work out of a bloody basement. They trust nobody, not even their own mothers. They have only themselves. They’re millionaires with no interest in cash. Entrepreneurs without vision. Travelers without the merest ounce of wanderlust. They live, breathe and eat computer data and find it hard to venture up — up into the real world. Only I can get close to them because I… I used to live in that world.”

Dino didn’t look impressed. “You? A fucking geek?”

“Yep.”

“What happened?”

“Life happened, you asshole. Shit happened. And don’t judge. Everyone needs to find a way to deal with their issues. Some are different to others, that’s all. But FrameHub, they took it way too far.”

“All right. You go first. We mop up. That’s all you had to say.” Wu was always to the point.

Karin tuned them out and thought back to the days when she lived with and loved her mainframe, when the lights flashed only to the transfer of data, and the whirring hum of a working computer in mid-hack was the sweetest sound in the world.

Be the old Karin, not the new Karin.

Time to go retro.

And now, seated in a big basement that stank of stale sweat, hot electricity and candy, she reflected on everything that had happened during the last few days.

First, they met in a busy coffee shop in the middle of town. She sat, sipping a vanilla latte, for thirty minutes after the agreed time, assuming they were verifying her identity before approaching her.

Then, one man — a young, spiky-haired individual with bad skin and a nervous disposition — approached her.

“I am FrameHub,” he said.

“You are FrameHub?” she asked. “I thought there were eight of you.”

“We are FrameHub. I am FrameHub.” He shrugged. “It’s what we say. You are Karin Blake.”

“Well, you got that part right at least.”

He blinked and stepped back. Quickly she reminded herself: Be the old Karin.

“You guys are badass!” she said too loudly. “Supercool, even.”

“Do you really think so?” He was peering at her now as if he’d never seen a girl.

“What happens next?” she said to deflect the creepiness. “I can’t wait to meet all you guys.”

“Are you British, or American?”

“Once from the UK, but I’ve worked in America for years.”

“Right. You’re accent’s weird.”

Like your fucking face, freak! “Oh, right.” She managed something close to a giggle. “Cool.”

“How old are you?”

“Don’t’ ya know that already?”

“Yeah, yeah, but you look older.”

Something to do with life and love and loss, she thought. “Tough paper round,” she said.

The geek laughed so suddenly and at such a shrill pitch that she jumped and the barista looked over. Karin found it prudent to stick her face in her latte cup and take several swigs.

“We should go,” the geek said, looking around. “By the way — I’m Piranha.”

Karin kept a straight face. “Nice.”

I should win a bloody Oscar for that performance.

But it turned out to be the first of many performances she would have to enact. Old Karin was long gone, but New Karin was forced to locate that echoing, lost voice and use it to move forward. Karin hated it. The good news was — it wouldn’t be for long.

Piranha led her to a waiting car. Karin almost pronounced her shock that “FrameHub” could drive, but then found a paper bag being shoved over her head and was forced to clam up, for fear of blowing her cover in a fit of anger.

Forced down in the passenger seat, with Piranha at the wheel, she was driven for approximately forty minutes. This wasn’t a large town, so Karin assumed it was to the outskirts, an industrial area perhaps. The sun was largely to her left, so most of the route was north. Once, a whistle hooted and another time a few minutes before they stopped she felt the change in the road as they went over a bridge.

I could find this again. Probably…

No matter. The tracker in her shoe would enable Dino and Wu to follow with ease. The problem she faced was disposing of it before they entered HQ. A darkness came over the car and then Piranha brought it to a halt.

“Wait there,” he said. “I’ll come around and get you.”

Scrabbling hard, bending back several nails, she managed to rip the tracker out of her shoe and cup it in her left hand. When Piranha pulled her out of the car she was able to drop it behind her, underneath the chassis. A moment later, Piranha pulled back the paper bag.