Matthew Reilly - Area 7

ousted military leaders who fled the country when apartheid

collapsed, rightfully fearing that the new government would

have their heads for past crimes. Most intelligence agencies

believe that Die Organisasie only wants to retake South

Africa, but we're not so sure."

"What do you mean?" Gant asked.

The President sighed. "You have to realize what's at

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stake here. Ethnically selective bioweapons like the

Sinovirus are like no other weapon in the history of

mankind. They are the ultimate bargaining tool, because

they have the power to sentence a defined population to

death while absolutely, without question, protecting another.

"Our fears about Die Organisasie don't just relate to

what they'd do to the Republic of South Africa. It's what

they'd do to the entire African continent that frightens us."

"Yes ..."

"Die Organisasie is a racist organization, pure and simple.

They actually believe white people are genetically superior

to black people. They believe that black people should be slaves to whites. They don't just hate South African black

people, they hate all black people.

"Now, if Die Organisasie has the Sinovirus and the vaccine

to it, they could release it Africa-wide, and give the cure

only to those white groups who supported them. Black

Africa would die, and the rest of the world wouldn't be able

to do a thing about it, because we wouldn't have the vaccine

to the Sinovirus.

"Do you remember in 1999 when Ghaddafi spoke of

uniting Africa like never before? He spoke of creating 'the

United States of Africa,' but it was regarded as a joke.

Ghaddafi could never have made that happen. There are far

too many tribal issues to overcome to unite the various black

African nations. But," the President said, "an organization

that had the Sinovirus and its cure in its possession could

rule Africa with an iron fist. It could turn Africa--resource rich Africa, complete with a billion-strong black slave workforce

--into its own private empire."

SCHOFIELD'S BATTERED X-RAIL CAR RACED THROUGH THE underground

tunnel.

They had been traveling for ten minutes now and

Schofield was beginning to feel anxious. They would be arriving

at the loading dock adjoining the lake soon and he

didn't know what to expect.

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One question about Area 7, however, was still bothering

him. "Herbie, how did the Air Force get a sample of the

Sinovirus?"

"Good question," Herbie said, nodding. "It took a

while, but eventually we managed to turn two Chinese lab workers at the biowarfare facility in Changchun. In return

for a one-way trip to America and twenty million U.S. dollars

each, they agreed to smuggle several vials of the virus

out of China."

"The guys in the decompression chamber," Schofield

said, recalling the Asian faces he had seen inside the chamber

on Level 4 earlier.

"Yes."

"But there were four men inside the chamber."

"That's right," Herbie said. "As you'd probably understand,

in China, top-secret government lab workers can't

just up and leave the country that easily. We had to get them

out. The other two men inside that quarantine chamber were

the two 7th Squadron soldiers who extracted them from

China--two Chinese-American officers named Robert Wu

and Chet Li. Wu and Li used to be a part of Echo Unit, one

of the five 7th Squadron teams based at Area 7, which was

why they were chosen--"

Abruptly, Schofield held up his hand, moved to the

front windshield.

"Sorry, Dr. Franklin," he said, "but I'm afraid that'll

have to do for the moment. I have a funny feeling that things

are about to get a little hairy."

He nodded at the tunnel ahead of them.

At the end of the long concrete tunnel, beyond its rapidly

streaking gray walls, was a tiny luminous speck of

light--growing larger as they approached it--the familiar

glow of artificial fluorescent lighting.

It was the loading dock.

They had arrived at the end of the tunnel.

"DON'T GO IN," SCHOFIELD SAID TO BOOK. 'THEY COULD BE

waiting for us inside. Stop in the tunnel. We'll walk the rest

of the way."

The bullet-riddled X-rail train slowed to a halt in the

darkness of the tunnel, a hundred yards short of the illuminated

loading dock.

Schofield was out of it in an instant—Desert Eagle in

one hand, the Football flailing from his waist—leaping

down to the concrete next to the tracks. Brainiac, Book II

and Herbie followed close behind him.

They ran down the tunnel toward the light, guns up.

Schofield came to the end of the tunnel, peered around

the concrete corner.

Brilliant white light assaulted his eyes. He found himself

staring at a giant rocky cavern that had been converted

into a modern loading dock—a curious mix of flat concrete

and uneven rocky surfaces.

Two sets of X-rail tracks lay on either side of a long

central platform. The track on Schofield's side of the platform

was empty, while the track on the other side was occupied

by another X-rail train ... Botha's.

It lay still, unmoving.

Some black steel cranes ran on wall-mounted rails,

leading from the X-rail tracks to a wide pool of water at the

far end of the enormous rocky cavern.

The water in the pool glowed a brilliant aquamarine

green, enriched by the minerals of Lake Powell. The pool itself

disappeared to the west, winding its way into a twisting

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black cave that Schofield could only assume led out to the

lake. Three ordinary-looking houseboats and a couple of

strange-looking sand-colored speedboats bobbed on its surface,

tied to the loading bay's concrete dock.

There was one other thing that Schofield noticed about

the immense underground loading bay.

It was empty.

Completely and utterly empty.

Deserted.

Schofield stepped cautiously out from the tunnel, and

climbed up onto the central platform between the two X-rail

tracks, dwarfed by the sheer size of the cavern.

And then he saw it.

Standing at the other end of the platform, over by the

pool of water leading out to the lake.

It looked like some bizarre kind of supermarket display:

a small chest-high "pyramid" of yellow ten-gallon barrels,

in front of which sat a chunky Samsonite trunk--black and

solid and high-tech. The trunk's lid was open.

As he approached them, Schofield saw that the yellow

barrels had words stenciled on their sides.

"Oh, damn ..." he said as he read them.

AFX-708: EXPLOSIVE FILLER.

AFX-708 was a shockingly powerful explosive epoxy,

used in the famous BLU-109 bombs that had ripped Saddam

Hussein's bunkers to shreds in the Gulf War. A 109's super hardened nose would drive down into a solid concrete

bunker and then the AFX-708 warhead inside it would detonate

--hard--and blow the bunker up from the inside.

With Book II, Brainiac and Herbie behind him,

Schofield looked inside the open Samsonite trunk that sat in

front of the collection of AFX barrels.

A timer display stared back up at him.

00:19.

00:18.

00:17.

"Mother of God ..." he breathed. Then he turned to the

others, "Gentlemen! Run!"

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seventeen seconds later, a bone-crunching explosion

ripped through the loading bay.

The cluster of AFX-708 barrels sent a devastating ball

of white-hot light shooting out in every direction, expanding