Chapter 4
Decker sat there like a rabbit caught in the mesmerising gaze of vehicles headlights. Stiff and unable to move. His mind overloaded him with emotions and thoughts, he imagined his head being opened up and splattering the ceiling in watery blood and skull fragments. Decker clenched his teeth and braced for the flash and stinging bullet to penetrate his skull as the gun was taken back from his neck.
He could feel the tingling warm blood rush back into the small white circle left on the back of his neck by the gun barrel. All Decker was saying was "Shit…Shit…SHIT!" repeatedly in his head. The reality of his situation had hit him square in the face. He was going to die, unless he acted now.
"Ahh…You're finally awake old man…SURPRISE!" Decker's body relaxed as his brain recognised the voice it was Wayne Young. Decker fell off his chair like a scarecrow that had been removed from its post he looked up at his two grinning colleagues. Young stood by the bed gun still in hand and Erin sniggered to herself in his shadow.
"Very funny" Decker scowled. He was still panting from holding his breath.
"Oh come on Decks, you gotta admit the look on your face was classic, and jeez… I am sure you shit your load, gramps." Young said cockily, Decker suddenly felt the anger well up inside him.
"How the fuck can you play games at times like this you idiot? For all you know Majestic Twelve could be outside ready to burst in and you're here playing childish pranks! Go shut the door and get ready!"
"Calm down! We weren't followed! Anyway what use would you be, dribbling over the keyboard?" Young snapped back. Decker rose to his feet, eyes bulging with rage, frown marks appearing on his wrinkled forehead, nose scrunched up and curling his upper lip. Erin automatically went between them and separated to two enraged men.
The computer's speakers made a rapid bleeping noise and the screen flashed furiously. One reply. Decker turned and rushed back to the computer picking up the fallen chair. He knelt down and used the touch pad and selected the replied e-mail.
From: 328.2133.1230
To: Public Terminal 11ANYNET.44567.22356
Subject: Re: Need Passage
Date: Sun, 24 Nov 2052 02:37:38 +0100
Decker,
Please accept my apologies on the delay, but as you know "special cases" takes time and planning. I have managed to persuade a transit driver to smuggle you in his lorry to Europe, he is delivering a shipment of tobacco to Italy and will be landing in Nantes and working his way down to Lyon. I am aware of the current situation in France, martial law; maybe you could align yourself and your friends with Silhouette. This would mean going to Paris.
I am currently in business with an arms dealer, who provides armaments to the Silhouette rebel group. He lives in the suburb of Marais, in France the suburbs are called "quartiers" or something, it is just East Of the Louvre. Ask around for a man known as, Jacques Adélie, also known as Le Corbeau on the streets of Paris, he can supply you with a wide range of arms.
The driver who will transporting you to Europe will be waiting tomorrow night (Monday 25th November) at the docks at 2300 hours (11pm) his name is Harvey Franklin. Do not be late.
Bon Voyage! Le Contrebandier.
From: Public Terminal 11ANYNET.44567.22356
To: 328.2133.1230
Subject: Need Passage
Date: Sat, 23 Nov 2052 00:18:24 +0100
You met me once when doing business with Lebedev; I got the impression you were a professional then, so I'm going to try and handle this professionally now.
I need passage out of this city - underneath the official radar - for me and two other people. We're prepared to keep our mouths shut, and we're prepared to pay. We don't care how, and we don't care where: Hong Kong, Lagos, Paris if you can, but anywhere that's outside of the country. I've hacked this terminal with an account that should be active for the next 24 hours; I'll check it periodically for your response.
Decker
Everyone's face broke out in ecstatic smiles, as their eyes skimmed over the few hundred words. This was their golden ticket out of America. No one knew where the suburb of Marais was; no one could care less, as long as it was away from the United States and the prowling Majestic Twelve. They all knew Majestic Twelve had infected nearly everything, corrupted even the international authorities. In every major organisation it was guaranteed that someone was watching or controlling all events, pulling the strings. But, at the moment France seemed to be the safest places to go for UNATCO targeted terrorists.
Even though France was mainly under martial law and MJ12 troops operated openly, like UNATCO troopers, terrorists were going to France and disappearing. Now the National Secessionist Forces were literally on their last legs after the raid on LaGuardia and the rebels in the U.S. had almost all rolled over and played dead to the corrupt UNATCO.
Decker would have to try and associate himself with one of the terrorist groups in France, mostly likely Silhouette.
Wayne squeezed Decker shoulders. "You did it old man," he said in Decker's ear.
Decker smiled weakly, he was still nervous, questioning even the precautions he took in encoding the e-mails. He felt someone knew what was going on. Someone still could be watching. It had been a few days since their presence was discovered at the airfield. Many public terminals displayed lists of terrorist associates with small descriptions, even Decker Parkes had managed to occupy a space on them, described as a being five feet nine inches tall, late forties, major involvement with the NSF attacks on both Liberty Island and LaGuardia airfield and warned people not to approach him. UNATCO had even gone to the trouble of putting a small thumbnail photograph of Decker next to his name. Wayne and Erin, his accomplices, were on the terminal too.
"Why didn't you tell me DECKER?" Erin's face was bright pink with fury "WHEN was you gonna tell ME?" She shrieked. Decker looked down at the floor, his body deflated with regret. "I was…" he muttered still looking from her anguished face.
"When? When you suddenly decided to walk out of the door for good? Why didn't you tell me you were leaving sooner instead of on the last day? Don't you trust me?" tears of emotion rolled down her flushed cheeks. Decker winced painfully, he hated confrontations.
"I do trust you, I really do and I am so sorry. I would have told you sooner, but I didn't know what to say." Decker explained.
"So you leave it for some dumb ass technician to tell me?" she said calming down slightly.
"I'll keep in touch. I promise. It's just I'm too old for all this running around, rogue shit." Decker smiled and went to comfort Erin; she embraced him wiping her tears on his shoulder
"You've been like a father to me." She whispered then let go and proceeded up the stairs of the cargo bay of Lebedev's Bowing 747. Decker stood there thinking to himself about what she had said, it had touched him. He looked at the canister Killian had gave him at Battery Park, which was contained in a suspension crate. Decker knelt down and deactivated the shimmering force field by punching the code 9905 in on the small metallic keypad. He picked up the small hexagonal canister and inspected it. The jelly-like liquid inside glistened with a light blue glow as it slopped heavily from side to side. What ever it was he knew Juan Ivanovich Lebedev would know what to do with it.
Decker looked at his watch, time was slipping away he still needed to oversee the loading of Ambrosia at the docks.
Decker strode through the stacks of ribbed cargo crates out on the airfield. The small boathouse was busy with activity. NSF members were unloading the Ambrosia from the backs of juggernaut lorries and carrying them to the speedboats. Young was also overseeing the shipments checking with the supervising officer on the progress.
"How are things going with the loading, Young?" Decker asked as he approached.
"Very well, it seems we're a head of schedule." Young replied writing something on his clipboard. The supervising officer made himself known by coughing quietly. Young looked at him
"Oh, this is Lieutenant Barrett, he is supervising the shipment." Young said and the Lieutenant saluted.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir." He said. Decker nodded and smirked in amusement at the Lieutenant.
"Can I have a word Young?" Decker asked.
"Sure." They walked off down towards the defence tower.
"Reports are coming in all over the place that UNATCO has responded more rapidly than anticipated they're already at Battery Park. It won't be long before they connect the shipment to the airfield. I need you to work faster." Decker whispered
"We are not "mechs"; my men are tired, if you had seen the street fighting around Brooklyn you would understand." Young replied.
"Well I am getting mixed messages from the NSF around New York, some are talking crazy, about some guy taking out everyone, sounds like UNATCO are back to using their "mechs". I just need things ready for when Lebedev returns he is bringing a guest, a new colonel or something." Decker said.
"I'll try." Young promised.
The earpiece in Decker's ear crackled. "Lebedev's on his way. Over."
Decker finished up at the dock and awaited Lebedev's helicopter at the helipad. All the commanding officers from all the sections were there to greet their leader as the helicopter touched the ground. Lebedev disembarked, follow by a six-foot man, dressed in a long dark trench coat. He never spoke as he left the helicopter, he just walked swiftly aside Lebedev. The officers followed Lebedev, Decker followed too, curiously looking and this new person.
He had never seen this man before and Decker knew nearly all the commanders of the NSF. The man had black-slicked back hair and a thick goatee beard. But something was not right with him. His eyes were a piercing blue, almost like small light bulbs. Underneath his tanned skin were what looked like small wire connection, silver lines collected around by his temples and the sides of his neck. The man's movements were swift and athletic with great power, and wore what looked like UNATCO Special Operations attire.
Whilst Decker had worked for Majestic Twelve, during the development of the mechanical augmentations, rumours were that tests were being carried out on a new experimental body augmentation, "nano-augmentations". The usage of "nanites" small robotics that enhanced the body, they were about a billionth of a metre long. Could Decker be witnessing the first "nano-augmented" soldier, if so what was he doing here?
Decker heard the man speak; he had some concern in his voice as if he was worrying about something or someone. Lebedev asked him a question and the man seemed to disconnect and paused as if questioning himself or confirming something, then his answer was complex and logical as if a computer had answered for him. This man was a guest of Lebedev's but no one knew who he was.
"Sir, the motion sensors have picked up movement in the lower sewage system. The IFF system on the surveillance cameras has managed to track down the intruder. Please sir, come and view this for yourself." Decker followed the NSF security officer into the small security hub.
The wall monitors were split into multiple screens overlapping each other. On one was an image of a man dressed in a long dark blue trench coat, thick plated body armour, and what looked like a special operations UNATCO uniform on underneath the armour like Lebedev's guest. The man was armed with a compact assault rifle and had a sniper rifle strapped over his shoulder, with a small bag tied to the butt of the rifle. The man moved swiftly in and out of the darkness, rifle held in the same fixed position at his waist. Decker stared intensely at the image, puzzled, UNATCO have never sent in a solo agent and if they did, they would usually the monstrous mechanically augmented agents. And this man was not mechanically augmented.
"He has killed many of our brothers, and reports came in from Liberty Island that UNATCO have a new experimental agent. I thought you should see it first sir, Lord knows what UNATCO have enhanced him with or what they'll send next." The security officer looked up at Decker from the swivel chair.
"Base, we have an intruder. Send a squadron of men down to the sewers, treat the hostile with extreme caution we may have a "Mech" on our hands. Over." Decker spoke into the small hidden microphone on his jacket collar. There was a static charge in his earpiece and a reply to his message.
"This is base. Do NOT intercept intruder! Warn all men to be on highest alert; Lebedev has given strict instructions to let the man through. If attacked treat as hostile. Over." The message crackled over the earpiece, Decker frowned.
"What is wrong sir?" asked the officer.
"We've been ordered not to intercept the intruder. God knows what's going on back there? Tell all troops to be alert…someone is coming." Decker said to the bewildered officer, then left in an urgent pace.
In the darkness they scuttled, like a party of elephants. They held on to each other's hands, leading each other, one by one down the tunnel. Down the tight, claustrophobic void echoed the chaos from above. Only a few of them had managed to get down the small manhole hidden underneath one of the cargo containers on the airfield, before the UNATCO hit-squad had arrived at Lebedev's Bowing 747 hanger.
Now the crackling echoes of gunfire haunted the space behind them, as they shuffled some stooping because of the low ceiling, away from the airfield. Decker who held onto a young NSF soldier's wrist, thought about the ones who never escaped. Lebedev would no doubt be captured dead or alive. If alive, he would be taken to one of the UNATCO holding bay also known as the Majestic Twelve "Torture Cells".
Apart from the claustrophobic environment causing him to feel pressured and UNATCO only being a few metres above them, something else was making Decker feel like his heart was in his throat. It was the fact that every datacube, e-mail, security record had Decker's name on it, his signature stamped all over them. As soon as the UNATCO encryption team broke the codes, a little light would illuminate on MJ12's traitor board. Decker, Wayne Young and Erin Todd had just put their necks on the blocks ready for Majestic Twelve to bring down the heavy execution axe.
Decker peeped down the line of people silhouettes at the single torchlight down the corridor, the exit seemed miles away. Behind them two volunteers had asked to stay behind and cover their backs, one of them was Wayne Young.
Decker could feel his heart beat heavily against his chest; he could hear his nervous whimpering breaths and feel his cold legs ache with every step. He wished for the exit to be just at the next corner, but it never was. Half an hour they stumbled, bumping their heads, scraping their feet against the slimy algae floors.
The nightlight burst in from the manhole high above, everyone sighed. Joyful chatter erupted as they collected outside standing in groups of friends. Although Decker stood singly by the manhole waiting for Young to pop his head up. Erin was striding around upset and anxious.
"Miss me?" Decker looked down and in the gloom Wayne looked back up, another NSF member behind him. Erin let out a cry and tears streamed from her face. Decker helped Wayne up from the manhole taking his weapon from him. All three stood and looked across the waters at the lights from the helicopters skimming the airfield.
"What do we do now?" whimpered Erin.
"We get smuggled." Decker replied.