“Has he left yet?”
“No.”
—
“Why here?” Kohei asked as they approached the Warbi Crude Metal Corp warehouse.
“The other piece of this that makes absolutely no sense,” Yuri said. “Dimon knew we’d identified him. Why run here?”
“It’s where they’ve been hiding out.”
“Most likely, but he led the drones here. And he’d got it screened with electronic warfare protection. Nobody could see what was going on inside. All communications were down.”
“That didn’t stop the Arizona S and E team.”
“Didn’t it?” Yuri had been reviewing the copied drone files as they walked through Kintore. The video images showed him sixteen armored figures entering the warehouse. Then the minutes ticked away, with the drones carefully holding station above the warehouse, until the electronic jamming was switched off. The drones’ secondary data table reported all sixteen of the team linking to Connexion Security with secure encryption, sending in personal video feeds and basic telemetry.
“Confirm target detention,” the Arizona S & E team reported. “No casualties.”
They emerged triumphant. Two of them were escorting Dimon. Three more were carrying the modules of electronic countermeasure systems. The remaining eleven completed a sweep of the warehouse, confirming there were no further hostiles.
Dimon was put into one of the big four-by-fours, and the team departed.
“I bet those vehicles are fitted out with a portal door in the back,” Kohei said. “That way, you can send prisoners directly to North Korea, or wherever they’re being stashed. Be useful if there’s more trouble than you’re expecting, too. Just bump the S and E team numbers up directly from their barracks.”
“I think you’re right,” Yuri said.
They reached the warehouse door. The Arizona team had broken it down when they went in after Dimon, then resecured it with a padlock and chain when they left. Yuri produced a power knife from his pocket and sliced through a link in the chain. He and Kohei took out their pistols and slipped inside.
There were no windows. Apart from maintenance crew inspections, people didn’t work in the warehouse. It was all automated by an old G2Turing. Floor-to-ceiling shelving racks ran the length of the building, holding big drums of liquid metal crude of every type. They were held ready for the large-scale printers out at the airfield maintenance depot, which could fabricate any of the moving components in the civil engineering machines that were abraded by the desert’s infernal dust. A meter-diameter portal door was installed at one end of the building, with a conveyor belt leading through it back to Warbi Crude Metal Corp’s main refinery in Japan. A couple of forklift truckez slid silently along the long aisles, placing newly arrived drums on the shelves, their bright amber safety strobes the only light in the warehouse.
Yuri glanced around the eerie building where strobes sent sharp-edged shadows leaping across every surface. His screen contact lenses were trying to compensate for the darkness with an amplified image, but the strobes were disrupting the program. “Boris, can you interface with the warehouse Turing, get some lights on in here?”
“The warehouse light circuits have been physically disabled,” his mInet reported. “The fault has been logged with the company maintenance office, and a repair crew is scheduled to arrive in ten hours’ time.”
“Damn,” Yuri grunted—though it did confirm his suspicions.
They started edging forward, pistols held ready. Illumination lights mounted on the barrels sent out powerful but slim beams of white light.
“Why this place?” Kohei asked. “These racks channel you. There’s nowhere to hide.”
“Yeah, but Dimon rigged it with a jammer. He knew this was going to be his last stand.”
“What are you thinking, chief?”
“I’m thinking he deliberately lured our people here.”
“But we got him.”
Yuri glanced around at the drums towering over him. “The Arizona S and E team were out of contact with each other. All they had were helmet-mounted infrared beams and light amplification goggles.”
“He could see them coming?”
“Not just him.” Yuri looked up and down the aisle, then lowered his pistol. “Hey!” he shouted. “Anyone here? We’re from Connexion Security. Can you hear us?”
Kohei was giving him a puzzled look. “Who are you expecting, some more of Akkar’s group?”
“No.” Yuri shook his head. “Hey, are you in here? If you can’t shout, make some kind of noise.”
“What—”
Yuri put a finger to his lips. “Shush. Listen.”
It was faint, but definite—a soft thudding sound.
“What is that?” Kohei murmured.
“Okay,” Yuri called. “We hear you. Keep making the noise. We’ll find you.”
They carried on down the aisle, then went back up the next one. The noise was originating somewhere just along the third aisle. Both of them knelt down, shining their pistol beams through the slim gaps between the drums of crude.
“There’s space behind here,” Kohei exclaimed. “Something’s moving in there. I can’t see what.”