Gary Gibson - Final Days

Keeping to the shadows, they spread out. The only vehicles Saul could see had clearly been abandoned for as long as the compound itself.

His contacts dropped icons over every building, including the one housing the administration offices, which constituted their primary target. Hanover continued to lead the way, Saul staying to the rear, as he’d been instructed. They turned a corner and, sitting next to the admin building, saw a flatbed with a portable tokamak mounted on the back with cables leading inside. It appeared just as dark and silent as the rest of the compound.

Saul checked for body-heat with his IR, but got nothing more than a few tiny blips of light that probably indicated rats fleeing from their scent. There came a rustling sound from another building, and moments later a flock of birds spiralled into the night sky, flapping furiously and calling to each other as they rose.

The men entered the admin building via three different entrances. There were five floors in all, and two of them were assigned to each floor. Saul followed a Filipino named Geradz Zurc as he searched the ground floor, poking the barrel of his Cobra into room after darkened room, but there was no one to be found.

The building had, however, clearly been occupied recently. When someone turned on the generator, the rooms were suddenly flooded wih light. Zurc swore, and Saul closed his eyes until he could shut down his night-vision. He heard someone muttering an apology over their shared comms.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw loose papers scattered all about, while empty desks had been pushed up against the walls. Saul tapped at the surface of one and a manufacturer’s logo appeared, slowly spinning above the desktop, glowing faintly under the crackling strip lights. A moment’s exploration showed that all its data had been wiped.

Someone had obviously known they were coming.

‘All clear,’ Zurc called over his link.

Saul followed him back to the central foyer, where other members of the task force soon joined them. Hanover was the last to arrive.

‘This place is empty,’ he confirmed, glancing around. ‘At first sight, anyway. But I don’t think they could have cleared out more than a few hours ago.’

‘What about the others, sir?’ asked Sefu. ‘Tovey and the rest are still sitting out there in the jungle, waiting.’

‘No, I just called them in,’ Hanover replied. ‘They’ll scour the rest of the buildings, see if they can turn anything up. In the meantime, I want the rest of you outside.’ He jerked a thumb towards the stairwell. ‘I’m going to take another quick look around myself, to see if I can find anything before we head home.’

Sefu shrugged in assent, and the rest followed him back out into the hot night air, grumbling amongst themselves. After a couple of hours of being trapped in a sub-orbital with nothing to do but look at each other, Saul could sympathize. He settled against a wall, while the others found places to sit or just squatted on the ground.

Saul recalled what Donohue had told him: whoever on Hanover’s team was responsible for supplying the information that led to the hijacking might also be linked to the terrorist action that had stranded Saul himself eighty light-years away from his family.

He thought of the way Hanover had looked at him during their first meeting. Maybe this was just a very tight-knit squad that didn’t take to strangers.

Or maybe it was something else.

Saul came to a decision. Damned if he was going to figure anything out by squatting here in the dark.

‘Hey, where you going?’ asked Helena as Saul stood up, looking around him.

‘Gotta pee,’ Saul replied.

‘There are bushes out front,’ Sefu advised from nearby. ‘Try not to get caught with your pants down, will you?’

Someone laughed and Saul made himself smile in response before heading around one side of the building. Once he was out of sight, he found his way back inside through a side entrance, then made his way past a row of defunct elevators to the stairwell.

He stared up the central shaft towards the ceiling, the staircase spiralling above him. After a few seconds he caught the flicker of a shadow through an open door somewhere on the top floor, followed by the distinct click of a door being closed. It had to be Hanover.

Saul slung his Cobra over his shoulder and started to climb, his gaze fixed upwards in case Hanover reversed direction and started to make his way down again. Saul wasn’t sure what excuse he might give if that happened, but it was a chance he just had to take.

He rested for a few seconds on reaching the top floor, then gently pulled open the door to reveal a corridor beyond. He glanced back the way he had come and found he had a good view of the rest of the compound through a wide window on the other side of the stairwell. He activated his IR filter and saw flickers of red and yellow in the darkness: presumably Tovey’s team searching the rest of the compound.

Saul stepped into the corridor, closing the door gently behind him, unslinging his Cobra once more before moving forward cautiously.

He found Hanover in the last room on the right, his back facing the doorway. Several steel cabinets stood along one wall, and Hanover was busy pulling thick sheafs of paper out of the drawers of one of them, and dumping them in an untidy pile on the floor. Opposite a window overlooking another part of the compound were a series of security screens, all clearly of much more recent manufacture than anything else contained in the room.

One displayed a live video feed of the stairwell. Hanover had known he was coming.

Hanover paused, a bundle of documents grasped loosely in both arms, and turned to glance backwards at Saul. He shook his head with irritation and turned away again, dumping the documents on top of the rest, before opening another drawer and extracting its contents as well.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Saul.

‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ Hanover replied over his shoulder. ‘I’m destroying evidence.’ He scattered more documents on the floor.

‘I want you to stop,’ Saul replied, taking a firmer grip on the Cobra. Targeting overlays appeared in front of him, flashing red because he was aiming at a friendly target. ‘Right now, sir.’

Hanover paused, then his shoulders rose and fell in a sigh before he turned to face Saul fully. ‘I knew why they sent you the moment I heard you were coming,’ he said, his tone bitter. ‘Do you like playing the part of a spy, Mr Dumont? Is it everything you hoped it would be?’

‘Why are you destroying evidence?’

‘Mitch is a good man,’ Hanover replied. ‘A thousand times better than you could ever hope to be. Poor bastard was just in the wron place at the wrong time. But, I guess, if it wasn’t you coming after me, it would be someone else. I actually let myself think it might not happen, but here we are.’

He held one hand up to Saul, palm facing outwards, while slowly reaching into a breast pocket with his other hand, and withdrawing a slim black oblong.

‘What is that?’ Saul demanded, training his rifle on Hanover’s chest.

‘Fast-acting incendiary,’ Hanover replied. ‘It’ll turn this office into an inferno in seconds. You won’t want to be here when that happens, believe me.’

‘I want you to put it back in your pocket, sir. You won’t be needing it.’

Hanover smiled and flipped the black object into the air, catching it again on its way down a moment later.

Saul’s heart leaped into his mouth, and he took a step back towards the door.

‘You know why you were sent after me?’ Hanover asked, kneeling to place the incendiary on top of the untidy mound of paper. ‘Because the ASI is looking for someone to blame for this whole fucking mess. But I’m not going to be anybody’s scapegoat, when the end comes.’