The Persona Protocol

28


Out in the Cold


Adam had been right. The drive out of Provideniya and up into the hills took some time. While the Vityaz was extremely capable off-road, it was not fast.

Nor was it comfortable. ‘I feel seasick,’ Bianca moaned after a particularly rough series of lurches almost pitched her from the bench. It was taking the pair’s full effort to stop the cases from skittering about like pinballs.

Adam pulled back the canvas to look outside. ‘At least this is as high as we’re going.’ The Vityaz had reached the end of a particularly steep climb and was now on more or less level ground as it rumbled across a hilltop. Provideniya was still visible on the far side of the inlet, though the weather was deteriorating, a light snowfall rendering the view hazy.

‘Yeah, but I’m getting the horrible feeling we might never go back down.’

‘We’ll be okay.’

‘Really? Really? We’ve jumped into the back of a snowmobile-tank thing full of terrorists on their way to buy a nuclear weapon, and it’s not as if we’ve got anywhere to hide in here. If they find us, they’ll kill us!’

‘Then we’ll have to make sure they don’t find us.’ Adam nudged the tarps with one foot. ‘The only person who knows what’s in here is the driver, and he doesn’t seem to want to get out of his nice warm cab. We can lie under the benches and cover ourselves with these. It’s pretty dark; we should be okay.’

‘And if they put the RTG in here, and it has radiation pouring out of an enormous crack in one side?’

‘Then we’ll have to hide on the other side.’

It took a moment for her to realise that he was joking. ‘That’s not very funny.’

‘But “not very” still means “a little”, doesn’t it?’

A tiny, reluctant smile appeared on her lips. ‘A very little.’

‘That’s still enough. Browning’s good at reassuring people. He has to be, considering his line of work. He always had to convince his kids that he wasn’t going to come back home radioactive.’

‘Browning has kids?’ He nodded. ‘Is that . . . does that feel weird to you? Knowing all the everyday little details of somebody’s life when it’s so completely different from yours?’

‘It does now that you’ve brought it up. Thank you!’

She smiled again. ‘Sorry. But once you mentioned his kids, what happened in your mind? How does it work for you? Do you just know the details about them, like their names and their birthdays, or do you . . . feel how he does about them?’

‘I feel it,’ he replied, after a moment – one filled with a rush of memories that weren’t his. A summer afternoon in the garden, whooping as he jumped into the paddling pool with his son and daughter and the sluice of displaced water sent a plastic duck whirling across the lawn, Janey and Bobby squealing and giggling at the sight . . .

Not his daughter, or his son. Browning’s. It took a conscious mental effort to stop the flow of images and sounds and smells—

‘Adam?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, snapping back. ‘It’s strange. When I’ve got someone’s persona in my head, some memories bring back emotions. Sometimes really strong ones. But once the persona’s gone, it’s different. I still have the memories I accessed, but . . . they’re just facts. I was at a place, I was with a particular person, I did this or that – but I don’t remember how it felt.’

‘But you do remember that the persona did feel something?’

He nodded. ‘I remember that Zykov was mad as hell when I took all his money. But the actual anger itself . . . no, it’s gone.’ That thought suddenly took him back to the dock. When he’d seen al-Rais emerge from the ship, a feeling almost of rage had struck him, nearly overpowering. It couldn’t have come from one of the personas he had used in the past. But he had never encountered the terrorist leader himself.

As far as he knew.

‘Holly Jo?’ he said. ‘I’m going off-comms. Bleep me if anything happens.’ He pushed the little bump behind his ear, cutting her off before she could reply. A faint click told him that the radio channel was closed.

‘What is it?’ asked Bianca.

‘Something happened on the dock, when I saw al-Rais. Just for a moment, I got mad. Really mad. I was ready to pull out my gun and put a bullet in his head before I got myself back under control. The thing is, I have no idea why.’

‘He is the world’s most wanted terrorist,’ she pointed out.

‘No, it’s more than that. It felt . . . personal.’

She leaned closer, concerned. ‘You think you might have met him before you joined the Persona Project? Before your memory was . . .’

‘Wiped? I don’t know.’ He was silent for several seconds, brooding. ‘Maybe I had him in my sights once before, and for some reason I didn’t take the shot. If I had done . . . it could have saved lives.’ Another pause. ‘Is that why I volunteered to have my memory erased? Because I felt guilty about missing the chance to take out al-Rais?’

‘I don’t know,’ Bianca said softly. ‘But . . .’

‘What?’

‘If seeing him provoked a response like that, then maybe your memories haven’t been erased. Not fully, anyway. They might still be there, just buried. There could be a way to get them back.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t have the slightest idea. I’m just the hired help.’

He realised that this time, she was the one not being entirely serious. ‘I suppose I was asking for that.’

‘Just a little. But I don’t even know what they did to you in the first place, so I’m not the one to ask. You’d have to talk to Kiddrick, I suppose.’

‘Somehow I don’t think he’ll tell me anything.’

‘You could always beat it out of him.’

‘Now I’m not even sure if you’re joking.’

‘Maybe I’m not!’ She grinned. ‘But I suppose—’

Adam suddenly waved her to silence, hearing something over the Vityaz’s engine. A moment later, a bleep sounded in his ear. He reactivated the transceiver. ‘What is it? Sounds like we’ve got company.’

‘You have,’ Tony replied. ‘The UAV just saw a helicopter. A Hind, it looks like.’

‘It must be Sevnik. What’s it doing?’

‘It flew in for a closer look at your ride, then turned east towards the valley. Landing at the rendezvous point?’

‘That’d be my guess too. Tell Kyle to keep a watch on it.’

‘Will do. What’s your situation? Why did you go off-comms?’

‘Just something I wanted to ask Bianca, that’s all. How far are we from the rendezvous coordinates?’

‘About a mile,’ said Holly Jo. ‘You’re approaching a steep hill down to the valley, so you might want to hold on to something.’

‘Thanks for the warning. Okay, I’ll leave the link open. Out.’

Bianca’s nervousness had returned in full force. ‘What’s happening?’

‘A helicopter just flew past. Probably Sevnik’s. Looks like Zykov is about to introduce his buyer and seller for the first time.’

‘Okay, so . . . what do we do when we get there?’

‘To quote you, I don’t have the slightest idea.’

‘I’m not reassured,’ she said sulkily.

The trailer jolted violently, one of the cases bashing against the side wall, then tipped sharply downhill. ‘Hold on to me!’ said Adam as he braced himself, stretching one leg across the cabin to pin the escaped case in place. Bianca clung to him, trying to keep the other from sliding away.

The descent lasted for several uncomfortable minutes before finally levelling out. Adam pulled the case across the trailer with his heel, then went to the back of the cabin. ‘What are you doing?’ Bianca demanded.

‘Reconnaissance.’ He peeled the flap aside, then leaned out and cautiously raised his head above the roof to look ahead.

The wind that hit his face was simultaneously hot and cold, exhaust fumes mixed with the biting gusts rolling across the landscape. He grimaced and narrowed his eyes. The flat-floored valley ran roughly north to south, hills rising steeply on each side. There was not so much as a tree in sight, or even shrubs, just the occasional boulder poking out above the snow.

The helicopter had landed, the Vityaz plodding towards it. It was a Hind, as Tony had said: an ugly and deadly Mil Mi-24P gunship, its stubby wings laden with rocket pods and a cannon mounted on its nose. Unlike its American counterparts, it also doubled as a troop carrier, a compartment in its fuselage able to carry up to eight people.

Some of them had debarked. Even from this distance, he could tell they were soldiers, his sharp eyes picking out their AKs. Sevnik was obviously as untrusting of al-Rais as vice versa.

He withdrew. ‘The chopper’s landed,’ he told Bianca. ‘Get under the bench – I’ll cover you up.’

The prospect didn’t please her. ‘What about the cases? And what about you?’

‘I’ll put them under the sheets. Go on.’

Bianca reluctantly crawled under the bench. Adam took one of the grubby tarpaulins and draped it over her. In the half-light inside the trailer, it was unlikely anyone would give it a second look. He pushed the cases to the forward bulkhead and pulled the sheets over them, then held the remaining tarp over his shoulders like a cape and squeezed beneath the other bench. A quick check that his feet were fully covered, then he concealed his head and waited.

The Vityaz’s bumpy journey finally stopped. The engine noise dropped to an idle grumble. Over it, Adam heard the clunk of doors opening, and voices. ‘Holly Jo, I can’t see outside,’ he whispered. ‘What’s happening?’

‘They’re getting out of the ATV,’ she replied. Her words were slightly distorted, interference crackling in the background. Even with the quadrotor relaying the signal, they were now far enough away from the op centre aboard the plane for it to be degraded. ‘Some more people are getting out of the chopper.’

‘That must be Sevnik,’ Tony added. ‘That’s a colonel’s uniform.’

Straining to listen, Adam could just about make out parts of the conversation outside. Zykov greeted the other Russian cheerfully, though Sevnik’s response was more restrained. The arms dealer then introduced al-Rais to his seller. Neither was impressed by the other, their mutual disdain clear, but matters moved straight on to business.

‘Two of al-Rais’s men have brought out suitcases,’ Holly Jo reported. ‘Al-Rais is opening them . . . they’re full of money.’

‘They’re full of a shitload of money,’ Kyle cut in excitedly. ‘So that’s what seven million big ones looks like, huh?’

‘Sevnik is checking it,’ Holly Jo went on. ‘He seems happy. They’re closing the cases – wait, now they’re coming back towards you.’

The Russian voices drew closer. ‘So where is the RTG?’ asked Zykov.

‘In a mine, not far from here,’ said another man: Sevnik.

‘Near the lagoon?’

‘How did you know about that?’ The officer’s voice suddenly filled with wariness – and threat.

Zykov remained relaxed. ‘An educated guess. I checked a map – considering how the RTG is going to be transported, it seemed logical.’

‘I see.’ Sevnik was not pleased to have been out-thought, but continued: ‘Very well. I will give you the position so you can land your plane.’

‘Zykov’s making a call,’ said Holly Jo.

‘Can you intercept it?’ Adam asked.

‘Already on it – I got his number last time, and NSA has a backdoor into the satellite network.’

Once Zykov had got a connection, Sevnik gave him a set of coordinates, which the arms dealer relayed to his contact. ‘Did you get that?’ Adam asked as the call ended.

‘We got it,’ Holly Jo replied. ‘The coordinates are about five miles south-east of your position. There’s a long lake – they’re on the western shore.’

‘The RTG is there. Tony, they’re not taking it to the airport – they’re going to fly it out directly!’

‘A seaplane?’ Tony asked.

‘It has to be. Baxter and his team need to get out there, right now. It’s our only chance of stopping them.’

‘Those coordinates are over eight miles from us! We’ll never make it in time.’

‘You’ve got to. I’ll do whatever I can to slow them down – hold on.’ Zykov, Sevnik and now al-Rais were talking again.

‘You want to come with us?’ Zykov asked, surprised. ‘Your helicopter is a lot more comfortable than this thing – and faster!’

‘I’m staying close to the money,’ Sevnik replied. ‘A couple of my men will come with me. The others will fly to the mine.’

‘You do not trust me?’ al-Rais growled.

‘I don’t trust anyone. I am committing an act of treason by selling you the generator – if the government finds out, I will be shot! I want to be a long, long way from Russia before anyone realises what has happened.’ He shouted orders. ‘Now, let’s go.’

‘Some of your men will have to ride in the trailer,’ Zykov told al-Rais. ‘There isn’t enough room for everyone up front.’

Alarm filled Adam. He lifted the tarpaulin from his face – to see Bianca peeking out from under her own cover, unable to follow the Russian conversation outside and wanting to know what was going on. ‘Hide, hide!’ he hissed at her. She hurriedly pulled the tarp back down.

Adam did the same. Movement outside, muttered words – then the trailer shook as the tailgate was dropped. Men clambered in. The bench above Adam creaked as a man sat heavily on it, followed by another.

He raised the edge of the tarp just enough to see the floor. Four pairs of boots were planted on it, two on each side of the cabin. He glanced towards the front of the trailer. The cases containing the PERSONA gear were partly visible under the sheets, the clean metal contrasting sharply with the dirty surroundings. If the terrorists noticed that they looked out of place and investigated . . .

One of the men closed the tailgate. Outside, the helicopter started up. The Vityaz’s engine snarled, the ATV lurching back into motion. All Adam could do was hold himself in place and endure the journey to their final destination – and hope Bianca could do the same.

‘The crawler’s moving,’ Kyle said. His main monitor showed the Vityaz turning south-east across the valley, the Hind lifting off in a whirling cloud of rotor-blown snow behind it.

‘God, I hope they’re okay,’ said Holly Jo anxiously. ‘How many bad guys got into the back?’

‘Four.’

‘I would so not want to be in there. Bianca’s braver than I thought.’

‘Or stupider.’ Kyle looked up as Tony hurried past him – wearing a heavy coat and carrying a handgun, to which he was attaching a silencer. ‘Brah, uh . . . what’re you doing?’

‘That’s a good question,’ said Baxter. His team had assembled at the front of the cabin, Fallon peering through binoculars at the terminal. ‘We can handle this, Tony.’

‘You’re outnumbered at least two to one,’ Tony countered as he shoved the pistol inside his coat and donned a radio headset. ‘You need all the help you can get.’

‘That’s not—’

‘This isn’t open for discussion, John,’ he said firmly. ‘If al-Rais gets the RTG on to a seaplane, it could end up anywhere. We’re only sixty miles from US soil. No matter what, we’ve got to stop that plane from taking off.’ He picked up a G36 rifle and loaded it. ‘Are we being watched?’

‘Doesn’t look like it,’ replied Fallon.

‘Good.’ Tony looked back at Kyle. ‘Get the UAV to the coordinates at the lake – I want to know what we’re dealing with. Okay, everyone grab your skis. We’ve got eight miles to cover, and we need to do it fast!’