Matthew Reilly - Area 7

And then it hit him.

"Oh, shit!"

He shot up to look out through the glass partition above

him--

And found himself staring at Reese's menacing four pronged jaws--wide open, foully salivating--pressed up against the other side of the glass, only inches away.

Swain fell backward, stumbled away from the glass.

Hawkins leaped to his feet, mouth agape.

Reese slammed against the partition, smearing saliva

everywhere.

Contest 50

"Eyes down!" Swain yelled, snatching Holly up in his

arms. Reese rammed the partition again--hard--and the

whole office shook. "Keep your eyes away from the antennae! Go for the door!"

There were two glass doors to this square-shaped office--one leading west, one east. Reese was banging on the

eastern wall of the room.

Swain ran for the other door, threw it open and charged

into the next office, Selexin and Hawkins close behind him.

With Holly in the crook of his arm, he slid smoothly over a desk in the center of the office, opened the next door.

"Close the doors behind you!" he yelled back.

"Already doing it!" Hawkins called forward.

And then, from behind them, there came a loud crashing

sound--the sound of breaking glass.

Up ahead, Swain continued to run. Over desks, through

doorways, dodging filing cabinets, sending paper flying

everywhere. Then he came to the last office and emerged on a wide marble-floored hallway. Off to the right were the elevators

and the main stairwell. To the left--and closer--was

a heavy blue door that read: To Parking Lot.

Hawkins was yelling. "She's coming! And she seems

really pissed!"

Beyond Hawkins, Swain could see nothing but offices

divided by glass partitions.

And then he saw it. Saw the long pointed tail flashing

up above the waist-high wood paneling. It was barging

through anything that lay in its path--like a shark's fin slicing

through water--launching desks and cabinets and swivel

chairs high into the air.

Two offices away and heading directly for them.

Moving fast.

Closing in.

Swain glanced back at the heavy blue door at the end of

the hallway. It looked strong, with a hydraulic opening

mechanism. It might give them time.

Better do something ...

506

Matthew Reilly

With Holly in his arms, he hurried to the hydraulic door,

opened it. He stepped into the threshold, pulled Selexin

through, and turned to look for Hawkins.

Hawkins was running hard, down the length of the marble

hallway. Abruptly, Reese skidded out into the hall behind

him.

Hawkins dashed past Swain, through the doorway, and

Swain shut the big hydraulic door behind him. It closed with

a dull, vacuumlike thud.

Then he turned and took in the area before him.

An underground parking lot.

It looked new--almost brand new, in fact A recent renovation.

Glistening newly paved concrete, white-painted

floor markings, shiny yellow wheel clamps on the ground,

pristine white fluorescent lights. It was quite a contrast to the

old dusty library they had seen so far.

Swain scanned the parking lot.

No cars.

Damn.

There was a Down ramp in the center of the lot, about

twenty yards in front of them, and an Exit ramp going up to

the street on the far side of the lot.

There came a sudden, very loud bang from somewhere

behind them.

Swain spun.

Reese was ramming against the other side of the door.

He quickly led the others over to the Down ramp. It was wide--wide enough for two cars to pass each other side-by

side. They had just reached the top of the ramp when there

came a crashing bang and suddenly he heard a hissing sound

from behind them.

Swain turned around slowly.

Reese was standing at the entrance to the parking lot,

her guide positioned silently behind her.

Swain swallowed--

--and then, abruptly, he heard another sound.

Clop ...

Clop ...

Contest 507

Clop ...

Footsteps. Slow footsteps. Echoing loudly in the deserted

parking lot.

Swain, Holly, Selexin and Hawkins all spun at the same

time--and they saw him.

Coming up the Down ramp.

Walking slowly, purposefully.

A six-foot-tall bearded man, dressed in a broad

shouldered animal-skin jacket, dark pants and knee-high

black boots that clip-clopped loudly on the concrete ramp.

And behind him, yet another guide, dressed completely

in white.

As the big bearded man stepped onto level ground and

stopped, Swain instinctively pushed Holly behind him.

At the sight of this new contestant, Reese became visibly

agitated. She hissed even louder.

They all stood in silence--the three groups forming a

precarious, unspeaking triangle.

It was then that Swain looked down at his wristband. It

now read:

INITIALIZED--7

Seven.

Swain looked up slowly.

The Presidian had begun.

MATTHEW REILLY was born in 1974 and

studied law at the University of New South Wales.

At twenty-seven, he has written four novels and

several screenplays. His books are published in

14 languages and sold in over 30 countries. Film

rights to his worldwide bestseller Ice Station were

optioned by Paramount Pictures earlier this year.

His other novels include Ice Station, Temple, and

Contest. He lives in Sydney, Australia.

AREA 7

It is America's most secret base, hidden deep in the Utah,

desert, an Air Force installation known only as Area 7. And

today, it has a visitor - the President of the United States.

He has come to inspect Area 7, to examine its secrets for

himself. But he's going to get more than he bargained for

on this trip. Because hostile forces are waiting inside.

Among the President's helicopter crew, however, is a

young Marine. He is quiet, enigmatic, and he hides his

eyes behind a pair of silver sunglasses. His name is

Schofield. Call-sign: Scarecrow. Rumor has it, he's a good

man in a storm. Judging by what the President has just

walked into, he'd better be. ...