Coincidence Theory Page 4

Chris ran down the sterile corridors of the base as fast as he could. Even though he only heard the muffled peal, he could still determine the likely source of the noise.

  Chris’ ability with acoustics was legendary in the forces. It was his main ally on his many missions. Most people could tell the directions sounds came from, and some could even guess the source to within a few feet. However, over the years Chris had learned to be capable of much more. Staring wide-eyed at a distant target for hours induced a monotony of thought that many fought to overcome, but not he. In those quiet times, he trained himself to pick out everything. From the unique sounds made by the rustling leaves of different trees, to the way sand shifted when walked on by diverse types of animal, he found he could discern any of them from distance. He was so good that he could even listen to multiple conversations at once in crowded stations and bars.

  Chris concentrated on what his ears were telling him. The gunshot echoed three times, with the second and third echo repeatedly muffled by something sound deadening. Stairs. Acting as a makeshift baffle, the lip of each step would take the energy from the sound waves, and the stairwell would create its own feedback. There was no doubt. The shots came from downstairs. Moreover, they came from outside a room generating its own white noise, which added to the dispersal. That left him just one possible location as the logical source.

  Tearing through the base and scrambling round a final corner, he squealed to a halt on the tiled floor, as a macabre scene outside the main computer hall greeted his view.

  In the corridor were three of the base’s personnel. Doctor Louisa Marshall and Private Justin McDonald crouched to either side of the fallen form of Lieutenant Steven Golding.

  Golding’s body still twitched sporadically, as the remainder of his nerve endings received their final commands from his blasted cranium.

  Chris had no idea who or what was going on and that meant containment was crucial. To do that, he needed information. Glancing at Louisa and Justin, he felt reassured by how they were dealing with such a grim situation.

  Justin was apprehensive about the body. It was clear he had never seen a dead man before. In other circumstances that could be a problem. However, it was clear it was not a major one. The young man had not thrown up, which was invariably a good sign. His eyes were narrowed, his brain instinctively cutting out as much light as it needed to diminish his emotional response.

  Louisa was slumped against the wall, tears streaking her face. She worked with Golding and so the reaction was typical, but no sounds were issuing from her lips. That was troublesome. Producing no sounds was a natural reaction to a situation when you still felt in danger. That meant the shooter was still here. Luckily, it appeared there was no loss of colouration to her cheeks; dead bodies were something she had seen before. If a gunman were still present, her calm in the face of death would be invaluable.

  Chris reached behind his jacket and removed his Beretta from its holster, holding up his palm. “I’m not here to harm. My name’s Colonel Martin.” he said, his words whispered and measured. “What’s our status, private?”

  “We have one shooter in the room. Three rounds fired as we opened the door.” said Justin, a tense look streaked across his face.

  “Who’s in the room?” said Chris, noting the unwavering response.

  “Michael Howarth and Tom Jenkins; our specialist tech support. They’ve been on-site since about midnight, assisting with our system instability issues.”

  Chris looked into the dimly lit computer hall, but could see no one. However, from the spray pattern around Lieutenant Golding, he could tell that the shooter was behind and to the left of the doorway.

  He knew what he was about to do was going to be messy, but it was necessary. He looked down at Louisa and pressed a finger to his lips, as he slowly raised himself onto his haunches. Re-curling his fingers round his gun, he prepared himself. He rolled back slightly and tightened each muscle in his powerful frame, before releasing everything in one action.

  Chris flew along the corridor, landing with his chest puffed out. The thick mixture of brain matter, blood, and bone fragments spattered his face and hands, as he slid into the room. He focussed on the upcoming moment. Timing would be everything.

  As Chris’ momentum pushed him forward, he instantly saw his target. The lean form of a man hunched behind the body of another, about eight feet to the left of the entrance. It was obvious that the man to the front recently met the same fate as Lieutenant Golding, blood covering him from head to foot. The man to the rear was using his body as a shield, balancing his pistol on his dead colleague’s shoulder. Both men were young, probably not even twenty. It was distasteful to think one had killed the other.

  Before the man could react, Chris fired. His bullet ripped its way through the soft flesh and tendons that lined the man’s right shoulder, making him release his gun and fall back.

  As he hit the floor, Chris rose to his feet and stood over him. “Something tells me your day’s about to turn real sour, boy!” he said, driving his boot against the fresh wound.

  “Like it matters.” said the man, as he writhed on the blood-stained floor.

  “You’re in no position to be cracking jokes, my friend.” Chris said, as he knelt above him, holding the gun to his face.

  The man gargled a laugh, spraying spit and blood.

  Chris grabbed his shoulder and stood him up, digging his thumb as far into the open wound as he could. “I can feel it in there.” he said, nudging the back end of the bullet. “Now am I going to get your co-operation, or am I going to have to get nasty?”

  “It doesn’t matter what you do now.” the man said, in tears with the pain. “Kill me if you want. You’re all dead. I’ve finished.”

  “Finished what?” Chris said, moving his face close.

  “Dead!”

  The man’s pupils were widening fast, his breathing laboured, and his mouth frothed blood with every failing attempt for air. It was obvious his malady was not simply the result of the damage caused by the slug.

  “Doctor Marshall!” Chris said, allowing the man to fall gently to the floor. “Get in here now!”

  It took a few moments for Louisa’s head to appear round the doorway. “Colonel? You’re ok?”

  “I’m fine. However, our friend here has taken some kind of suicide pill and is about to meet his maker. I need him alive. See what you can do.”

  Chris stood, leaving the barely conscious youth to be tended and looked around. He had no more time to waste.

  The server room was about twenty feet square and lined by banks of computers in tall, glass cabinets. Four of the cabinet doors were open and the retractable keyboards out, as if recently operated.

  Chris scanned the far wall where blood covered a solitary console, the screen above it filled with coloured bands changing from blue, to amber, to green, to red.

  “Private, I need you too.” said Chris, unsure what to make of the images.

  Justin cautiously tiptoed into the room and did his best to quell his revulsion at the scene greeting him. “What’s the matter colonel?”

  “With Jenkins no longer able to help us, I need you to tell me what’s going on in here. I also need you to explain whatever it is that has started on this machine.” Chris said, as he motioned to the server on the far wall.

  “This is a low-level format screen.” said Justin, deftly stopping the process continuing.

  “How much of the data has gone?”

  “It’s hard to tell for sure, but it was over half complete. I would have to move the affected drives to another server and try to recover the data to give you a definite answer Colonel.”

  Chris was impressed by the way Justin was handling himself. If this really was his first time in this kind of situation, his resolve to continue his duty was remarkable. For the second time in as many minutes, he made another mental note. McDonald could be an asset after all.

  “Do it.” said Chris, with an appreciative nod. “I
also need you to find out if anything has been tampered with. He said he’d finished something, I can’t assume that this was what he was talking about if it wasn’t complete. I need you to find out what he has done. What does that server control?”

  “It’s the storage database for the CCTV and video files.”

  “Thanks private. Carry on.” Chris said, as he wiped his hands together in a pathetic attempt to clean them. “Can you tell me who else is in the base?”

  “Just us three and Professor Edwards.” said Justin, without turning from the screen.

  “Are you certain of that?”

  “I am colonel. Security access is limited to a single, pass-card entrant at a time. The system cannot be circumvented. The only people here are the people whom the system would allow in.”

  The certainty in the response was impressive. Without wanting to disturb the young private further, Chris turned his attention back to Louisa. “So what happened to Geffers?”

  “Doctor Geffers is dead, just like Howarth.” said Louisa, her shoulders sagging as she stepped away from the lifeless body at her feet. “He was found in his lab ten minutes ago by Professor Edwards. We were on our way here to check the video records when Steven was shot.”

  Chris caught the look of desolation that was spread across Louisa’s face and realised he needed to maintain control of the situation or risk losing these people to crisis induced lethargy. Too many times, he had seen perfectly able individuals turn to sloths as soon as things started going against their expectations. He knew it was a form of mental defence. It stemmed from a stark acceptance of fate that drained individuals of the will to continue. However, to get ahead of the situation, action was required.

  “Then here’s what I need you to do.” Chris said, putting as much confidence into his tone as he could. “Justin will remain here and recover that data. If it was important enough to try to delete the video record, it’s important enough to rescue. I want it brought with us if necessary. Louisa, I need you to find Professor Edwards and gather everything of value together from this base, including the artefacts. This facility is compromised, nothing’s safe here anymore. Meet me in the main briefing room in twenty minutes.”

  “What about you, colonel?” asked Justin.

  “I’m going to make sure that we have the right level of response available on the surface when we get out of here. I’ll find an office with a phone, make a few calls, and be right with you. You have your orders people.”

  As Chris picked his way down the spattered corridor, he scowled. He could not be certain of anything at this point, but the timing of his arrival and the events occurring at the base could surely not be a coincidence.

  Chapter 5