Burning Angels

They gathered on the flight deck. Jaeger dispensed with the niceties. Now was not the time. ‘Listen up. And listen good. Just for a few seconds there my wife was conscious. Remember, she’s been in Kammler’s lair for a very long time. She’s seen it all.’

He eyed the team, his gaze coming to rest upon the elderly Miles. ‘This is what she said: “Find Kammler. Find those like himself that he inoculated.” She’s got to mean that we could isolate a cure from them. But is that even possible? Is it doable, scientifically speaking?’

‘Could we extract and synthesise a cure? In theory we could,’ Miles answered. ‘Whatever antidote Kammler has injected into his system, we would be able to copy and inject into our own. It would be a challenge to manufacture enough drugs in time, but with several weeks, it’s doable. Probably. The challenge is finding him, or one of his acolytes. That we have to do pretty much immediately— ’

‘Right, let’s get moving,’ Narov cut in. ‘Kammler will have anticipated this. He will be prepared for us. We will need to scour the ends of the earth to find him.’

‘I’ll get Daniel Brooks up to speed immediately,’ Miles announced. ‘We’ll have the CIA and every other intelligence agency begin the search. We’ll—’

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa.’ Jaeger held up his hands for silence. ‘Just a second.’ He shook his head, trying to clear it. He’d just been struck by an ultimate moment of clarity, and he had to capture it; to crystallise it fully.

He glanced around at his team, his gaze burning with an impossible excitement. ‘We already have it. The cure. Or the source of the cure.’

Brows furrowed. What the hell was Jaeger talking about?

‘The kid. The slum kid. Simon Chucks Bello. He survived. He survived because Kammler’s people inoculated him. He’s immune. He has that immunity in his blood. We have the kid, or rather Dale does. Through him we can isolate the source of the immunity. Culture it. Mass-produce it. The kid is the answer.’

As he saw the realisation — the blinding flash of understanding — firing off in the eyes of his team, Jaeger felt a new-found burst of energy burning through his system.

He locked eyes with Miles. ‘We need to get the Wildcat airborne again. Contact Dale. Get him to move the kid somewhere we can fly in and pick them up. Get them away from any crowded beaches, on to a stretch of easily accessible sand.’

‘Understood. You’ll be bringing them back here directly, I take it?’

‘We will. But tell them to stay under cover, in case Kammler’s watching. He’s been one step ahead of us all the way. We can’t allow him to be this time.’

‘I’ll launch both Taranis. Get them orbiting over Dale’s location. That way you’ll have cover.’

‘Do that. Radio us their pickup coordinates once you have them. Just give us a distance due north or south along the beach from Amani itself, and we’ll know where to put down. Tell Dale not to show himself until he can see the whites of our eyes.’

‘Understood. Leave it to me.’

Jaeger led his team in a rush for the Airlander’s hold. He grabbed the Wildcat’s pilot. ‘We need you to turn your ship around. Make for an area called Ras Kutani. Should be pretty much due west of here. We’re going to do a pickup from a resort called Amani Beach.’

‘Give me five,’ the pilot replied, ‘and we’re good to go.’

86

The three Nissan Patrol 4x4s tore southwards, their massive tyres juddering like machine guns as they ripped across the ridged surface of the rough, unmade dirt road. Behind them they threw up a huge plume of dust, which would be visible from miles around — that was if anyone was watching.

In the passenger seat of the lead vehicle sat the hulking form of Steve Jones, his shaven head gleaming in the early-morning light. He felt his cell phone vibrate. They were barely thirty kilometres out from the airport, and thankfully they still had a good mobile signal.

‘Jones.’

‘You’re how long to Amani?’ a voice demanded. Kammler.

‘Twenty minutes, at the most.’

‘Too long,’ he snapped. ‘It can’t wait.’

‘What can’t wait?’

‘I’ve got a Reaper drone overhead, and it’s picked up a Wildcat chopper inbound. Fast. Maybe five minutes out. It might be nothing, but I can’t risk it.’

‘What’re you suggesting?’

‘I’m going to hit the resort. Amani. And I’ll earmark a first Hellfire for the Wildcat.’

Steve Jones paused for an instant. Even he was shocked by what he’d just heard. ‘But we’re almost there. Fifteen minutes if we really push it. Just hit the helo.’

‘Can’t risk it.’

‘But you can’t just take out a beach resort. It’ll be full of tourists.’

‘I’m not seeking your advice,’ Kammler snarled. ‘I’m warning you what’s about to happen.’

‘You’ll bring seven tons of shit down on our heads.’

‘Then get in and out fast. Kill the kid and anyone who gets in your way. This is Africa, remember. And in Africa the cavalry takes a long time to arrive, if ever. Do it right and you’ll get your biggest ever payday. Do it wrong, and I’ll deal with it by Reaper alone.’