Hellgate London - Exodus Part 5

Now, though, the invaders had somehow gotten into all the power grids and shut them down. The tubes had gone silent, no longer ferrying people throughout the city, and no lights were possible save for oil lanterns and candles. Even those burned at the peril of their owners. The invaders moved at night, seeking out humans and killing them where they found them.

Grudgingly, afraid that he might miss something in his absence, Hyde turned from the window and accompanied the young officer.

Hanging out over a fifty-plus-story drop wasn't a pleasant experience. DCS Hyde hung on to the ropes around the cage they used to navigate the building.

Since the power was out, they'd had to jury-rig an elevator system. Since adding more weight to the cage only meant more dead weight for the men muscling it up and down to manage, the builders had elected to go with a skeletal frame and ropes. The platform swayed sickeningly and Hyde's stomach lurched.

Gradually, the platform descended the empty elevator shaft in a controlled fall. Hyde hadn't made up his mind whether it was worse descending or ascending. Descending felt like one long fall but didn't take long. But ascending felt like a mult.i.tude of short, very quick falls. His heart lurched with every one.

Finally, though, they arrived at the bas.e.m.e.nt level. Going to the lobby was too dangerous because it forced them to go directly out onto the street.

In the bas.e.m.e.nt, one of the armored riot cars that had so far survived the attacks waited. Scars tracked the metal sides and spiderwebbed fractures lined the windows. The snouts of small cannons and machine guns peeked out of gun ports.

The side access panel opened and a young man stepped out. "Chief Superintendent." Hyde nodded.

"Mind your head, sir. She's low."

Ducking his head, Hyde stepped into the vehicle and was promptly shown to a chair. The armored car was packed with hard-edged men and weapons. From the look of them, they'd all spent time in the killing fields. Haggard and often unshaven, their eyes looked haunted. Hyde didn't even want to guess what horrors they'd seen.

"Buckle in, sir." The young man took another seat while Krebs took one beside him. "Where are you taking me?"

"Orders are to take you to the Central Library. You'll be met there by Dr. Smithers."

"I wasn't aware that Dr. Smithers was there."

"Recently relocated, sir. They had to have a new morgue." "What happened to the old one?"

"It filled up, sir."

"Oh." Hyde sat back in his seat and felt the armored car lurch into motion. The morgue had filled up, and that was only with the dead they'd recovered. There had been plenty more that they hadn't.

The armored car's transmission engaged smoothly and they accelerated.

Hyde's anxiety increased because he couldn't see out of the vehicle. He wouldn't know if they were attacked until it was too late.

"How have the evacuation efforts been coming, sir?" the young officer asked. He spoke as calmly as though they were out for a Sunday drive.

"We've established staging areas," Hyde answered, grateful for something to take his mind off being exposed in the streets. "But it's not doing much good, I'm afraid."

"Really?"

"There's no way to send the people we get together." Hyde hated discussing the futility of the exercise. Great Britain was an island kingdom. In the past, that had been a strength. Now it worked against them.

"What about the Chunnel?"

The Chunnel was the thirty-one-mile underground railway that ran under the English Channel and linked Great Britain to France.

"The...invaders seemed to have concentrated some of their forces there," Hyde said. "They've executed the last few caravans we've sent that way."

"No headway has been made toward reclaiming the airports?"

"No." Heathrow had all but been destroyed in the initial attack. Gatwick and Stansted had been destroyed. No one knew exactly what shape Luton Airport was in.

"Pity. It would be better if we could get the noncombatants out of the area."

"Yes," Hyde said. "Yes it would." Privately he worried that most of the citizens would not escape. Not unless some miracle occurred.

The man tapped the earpiece on the side of his head. "Hold on, sir. We're about to clear a rough spot." Hyde was aware of the armored car's acceleration. He reached down and took hold of the armrests.

A moment later, the sound of machine guns and cannons roared to life. Then something struck the side of the armored car hard enough to rock it up on one side. Still, it churned through whatever lethal encounter it had run into. The vehicle accelerated violently again, then executed a series of right and left turns.

"Watch it, Joey! Over to your left!" one of the men yelled."No! Your other bleedin' left, mate!" The gunners worked diligently, shifting and jostling as they tracked their targets.

"I hate them ones that can fly like that."

Hyde got a momentary image of the flying creatures that he'd spotted on several occasions. Only two days ago, he'd seen one scoop a child from the street like a falcon taking a hare. Hyde didn't know if the creature had killed the child or if it had been the bullets his men had fired. The child was never seen again.

"You're not hurting it," one of the men said. "You're just making it madder."

The driver jerked the armored car through a series of quick turns. The vehicle jumped and jerked as it sc.r.a.ped along the side of a building. Then everything went quiet again.

"All right," the officer said, visibly relaxing. "We're clear."

But only for the moment,Hyde couldn't help thinking.They're still out there.

They stopped at another underground parking garage and Hyde was ushered out of the armored car. A group of plainclothes officers awaited him. All of them carried heavy weapons and wore bulky riot gear that only slowed the creatures but didn't stop them.

"If you need a ride out of here later, sir," the young armored car officer stated, "we'll be happy to a.s.sist."

"Thank you." Hyde shook the young man's hand. "Keep safe out there." The officer gave him a cheery thumbs-up. "Always."

The doors of the armored car closed like some monstrous beast. Then they were off, streaking for the exit.

"If you'll follow me, sir."

Hyde fell in with the group waiting for him. Even though they fairly bristled with weapons, the men of the group were wary.

Their footsteps echoed in the cavernous parking garage. They took a flight of steps down to the next level. Guards stood at attention in front of the opening. Bright light blazed through the doorway.

"Detective Chief Superintendent to see Dr. Smithers," one of the men announced.

The guard glanced over Hyde's ID and handed it back. He nodded. A half-healed wound tightened his left cheek and promised a terrible scar in the future. If the man lived to see it.

Hyde had to blink several times as he entered the makeshift morgue. The lights were incredibly bright.

He felt the heat from them, too. The warmth seemed to intensify the smell of death that permeated the room as well. Despite his years of experience with the Metropolitan Police Service, Hyde felt almost unnerved and queasy. He parted his lips and breathed through his mouth to lessen the stench. It didn't help much.

Several steel tables had been brought into the garage area, but even as many as there were, there were several body bags around as well. They lay stacked like cordwood, awaiting their final fate.

What are we going to do when we run out of body bags?Hyde wondered. Two weeks ago, he would have been shocked and slightly sickened that he'd even thought such a question. Tonight, however, he realized that it was a real concern.

Dr. Smithers was in his sixties, a withered bone of a man with ill-fitting false teeth and deep eye sockets. The heavy magnification of the lenses made his eyes appear too big for his skull. He wore white scrubs streaked with blood.

"'Ello, Alf." Smithers spoke in a whispery, sandpaper voice. "I 'eard you 'ad a close call on the way over."

"A bit. None the worse for wear. It happens often enough now that I don't think about it much after it's over." That wasn't exactly true. He had nightmares nearly every time he slept. Hyde offered his hand.

Smithers held up both of his. His gloves were covered with blood and gore. "Not a moment for niceties, I'm afraid."

Hyde dropped his hand back at his side. "You sent for me."

"I did." Smithers waved Hyde over to a body against the wall.

The body was different from most of the others. This one had on the strange armor of the men who'd helped out when the British military had faltered in the streets.

And who had died by the hundreds at St. Paul's Cathedral just a few days ago,Hyde reminded himself. Another man stood by the table where the dead man lay. The man was in his late thirties or perhaps early forties, tanned and fit. He wore a turtleneck, slacks, and a trench coat. His head was smooth-shaven and so was his jaw. Black-lensed sungla.s.ses covered his eyes.

Hyde stared at the man, awaiting introduction. After a moment, he decided that Smithers wasn't going to give it. He held out a hand and announced his name.

The man made no move to take Hyde's hand. His face remained neutral. He said, "We're aware of who you are, Chief Superintendent."

Feeling foolish, Hyde withdrew his hand. "Who are you?" "No one you need to trouble yourself with."

"Then maybe you'd like to wait upstairs." The man smiled at that. "I think not."

Hyde glanced at Smithers.

"'E won't give me 'is name either," the coroner said. "But 'e's some kind of 'igh muckety-muck. 'E's got a letter from the prime minister's office what says so."

"I have...connections," the man said. He focused his sungla.s.ses on Hyde. "I was told you could identify this man."

Despite his anger, Hyde's attention was drawn to the dead knight on the table. Why would anyone think that he knew- But he did know the dead man. That stunned the chief superintendent into silence for a moment. "Do you know him?"

Hyde nodded. "I do." "And he is?"

"Thomas Cross." It was hard to recognize Cross in the shape he was in, but the features were remarkable, not overly handsome, but definitely a man Hyde remembered. Cross looked like he'd been parboiled. His flesh was ready to fall off the bone.

"Who's Thomas Cross?"

"A man I got to know in connection with a bit of investigating I did." "You arrested his son for base-jumping two years ago."

That surprised Hyde, too. He wondered where the man was getting his information. "I did. For base-jumping from Big Ben."

"That's how you got to know Thomas Cross and his son Simon?" "Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with-"

"What do you know about the father and son?" the man interrupted.

Hyde curbed a sharp rebuke. As chief superintendent he wasn't used to being treated in such a cavalier fashion. He took in a deep breath and let it out. "Nothing."

The man didn't say a thing, but even his silence was insulting.

"The fine was paid," Hyde said. "The young man did his community service. Then he got out of town." "Out of London, you mean?"

"Yes." Hyde didn't know how much clearer he could be. "But not before he staged another jump from the Tower of London. Right before he caught the train. Before we could put a hold on the flight, he was gone. He was cheeky."

"Where did he go?" "Who?"

"Simon Cross."

"South Africa. Cape Town, I think." "Why?"

"I don't know."

"You're sure Simon Cross went to South Africa?"

"Yes. His father"-Hyde nodded at the corpse-"asked me to facilitate things for his son." "Why?"

"There was some problem with the son's pa.s.sport." "What was the problem?"

Hyde stared into the blank lenses and saw ghostly reflections of himself. "It wouldn't pa.s.s inspection." "You overrode it."

"Yes. Those things happen every now and again. All I did was verify that he was a citizen and he was on his way."

"Why did you take the trouble to do that?"

Hyde nodded at the dead man. "Because I liked him. The father. I know what it's like trying to raise a high-spirited young man. Simon Cross was twenty-three years old. It was time for him to stretch his wings. Either that or drive his poor father mad."

"Simon Cross has been gone from London for two years?" "I don't know. He might be back."

The man regarded Thomas Cross in his metal sh.e.l.l. "Did you know this man was one of these people?" "You mean the knights?"

The man frowned, obviously displeased. "They arenot knights."

Anyone who would put on armor and go tilt at monsters has my vote,Hyde thought. "I didn't know about the suits, no."

"Would it surprise you to learn that prior to his son's arrest for base-jumping, Thomas Cross didn't exist as an official British citizen?"

"Yes," Hyde responded honestly. "It would surprise me very much." "My people-"

Hyde couldn't help automatically wondering who the man's "people" were.

"-performed a thorough background check on Thomas Cross after we found him in that suit. As it turned out, his image and his fingerprints were on file in a case that you handled as chief superintendent."

Hyde waited for the other shoe to drop. He'd been in the politics of police work long enough to know that it would.

"Prior to that time, neither Thomas Cross nor Simon Cross existed. Our boys in computer forensics backtracked the trail the hackers left while putting Thomas and Simon Cross's identification into the system."

The news caught Hyde off-guard. "I don't understand."