The Prometheus Trap (The New Prometheus Book 3) Read online

  ‘Comms check,’ Xenox said over their link.

  ‘I read you loud and clear,’ Frankie answered.

  ‘Same here,’ Gibson said.

  With her rifle up, Frankie moved down the steps, dropping first one flight, and then another, and then a third before exiting onto another catwalk, and walking along it. They did their best to be as quiet as they could, but the metal of the walkways made it impossible to be silent.

  As they moved, they passed by a building to their left. As they cleared the edge of it, Frankie spotted the distinct shape of a flyer behind the edifice where it had landed on a platform. Frankie slowed and swept her gun over the area.

  ‘Corporation flyer to our left,’ she said for Xenox’s benefit.

  ‘Any signs of life?’ Xenox asked.

  ‘Negative, it’s quiet,’ she said. ‘Moving on.’

  ‘Copy that,’ Xenox said.

  Frankie kept going, keeping one eye on the Corporation flyer as they advanced, in case someone had been left down there and decided they wanted to take shots at them.

  Reaching the end of the walkway, she started down some more steps and got a good look at the surrounding area from their elevated vantage point, spotting a noodle bar not too far from the flyer, the golden glow from inside of it lighting up the shadows.

  She continued to scan around and spotted an open door, way off to her right, and what appeared to be a body on the floor next to it. She zoomed in and felt sure she was right about this.

  ‘I think I have a dead body over here,’ she said to Gibson and Xenox over the link, pointing to it for Gibson’s benefit.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ he answered her. ‘You think that’s our target?’

  ‘Let’s find out. Moving to investigate,’ she said, before proceeding down the stairs to the platform that the body was on, one floor below the noodle bar.

  Frankie paused, looking around her, checking over towards the silent and still Corporation flyer, and then back over to the suspected body next to an open door.

  It was all quiet for the time being, but Frankie felt there was a pregnancy to the air around them as if something were waiting to happen, waiting to erupt and cause chaos.

  ‘Do you want to check the flyer, or not?’ Gibson asked.

  ‘No, it’s likely to be guarded, and that’s not why we’re here. The exiles are probably still in that building, and it’s them that we need to protect,’ she answered.

  ‘Understood,’ Gibson replied to her.

  ‘Okay, let’s get in there,’ she said. ‘Follow me.’ Frankie stepped out from the stairway and started to make her way over to the open door. Frankie moved cautiously, watching both the door and, as she had correctly suspected, the body on the floor, ready for any potential traps. Frankie spotted a gun next to the body as she stepped up to it and could make out the faint smell of cordite in the air.

  Frankie knelt down next to the victim. It was clearly a man, and his face was partially obscured and covered in blood. She checked for his pulse, just in case, but found nothing. She hadn’t picked up any vital signs in him as she had approached, so she wasn’t surprised.

  He was still warm, though, and the blood was fresh, meaning this had happened recently. As she finished checking the body, the sudden sound of a gunshot echoed out from within the building and grabbed Frankie’s attention. She lifted her gun and aimed it inside.

  ‘Gunshot from inside the building. We’re going in,’ she said over the link with Xenox before she moved to the door. Checking her corners before stepping inside, and with Gibson on her heels, she found herself in a dark corridor with just a couple of lights shedding some dim illumination along the passageway.

  Maybe thirty meters in front of them, another set of double doors stood open on the right side wall, and there appeared to be two more bodies lying on the floor just outside it.

  Frankie’s enhanced hearing could pick out sounds of movement and some voices that were issuing orders and asking questions.

  ‘I think we’ve found them,’ she said as she moved along the corridor, aiming along the length of her rifle, which she kept trained upon the door. She glanced down at the two bodies out here; her cyberbrain checking for any visible vital signs, but seeing none. They were almost certainly dead.

  She sighed. Every day, there were more deaths in the struggle for freedom from oppression, but the exiles weren’t entirely blameless. They often took things to greater extremes than were necessary, and as much as she disliked the idea, she knew that sometimes, she and the A.C.T. needed to work against the very people she had been trying to help over recent months and years for their own protection.

  Today, though, it looked like they would be dealing with the usual Corporation oppression.

  Frankie edged around the door and found herself looking into a large room. It was mostly open space with metal shelves and other bits of furniture scattered about around the edges, while wires looped down from the ceiling and trailed along the floor, linking up terminals and workstations.

  In the midst of this space, though, a contingent of black-clad Corporation operatives, or C-SWAT, as they were known, kitted out with high-tech tactical gear and deadly weapons were spread out in front of some people holding their hands up in surrender. Most of these others were dressed in layers of old clothing that had seen better days and were on their knees with their hands up or behind their heads. One of the operators was shouting at these captives.

  ‘See what happens if you don’t talk? Do you? Because I have no problem doing this to all of you. One at a time, slowly,’ he shouted, pointing to another body on the floor that they must have just shot.

  Frankie guessed that the people that were being held at gunpoint were exiles, victims of the Corporations that used to live down here in the camps, trying to survive against the odds due to their Nanobots being suppressed.

  Frankie didn’t wait to see what would happen; she didn’t want anyone else to die on her watch, so she moved into the room, her gun up and aiming at the operators. She stepped a few paces into the room before she spoke.

  ‘Drop your guns. We don’t want this to get messy,’ she called out.

  Their entrance had been undetected by the operators, so they turned towards Frankie and Gibson with looks of surprise on their faces after focusing on the exiles so intently.

  ‘What? Who the hell are you?’ the lead operator said.

  ‘We’re with the government, and this is an unauthorised raid. Lower your weapons so we can get this resolved,’ Frankie asked.

  ‘Screw you,’ the lead operator said and went to raise his gun.

  Frankie fired off a quick shot at him, hitting him cleanly and dropping him to the floor, dead with the single headshot. A couple of others were already moving, following their squad leader’s actions and raising their guns. Frankie was ready for it, though, and fired on them, with Gibson next to her doing the same. Calmly and methodically, she shot three more of the squad before the rest raised their hands in surrender.

  ‘Anyone else want to argue the point?’ Frankie asked, sweeping her gun slowly over the gathered C-SWAT that were left alive.

  Some of them shook their heads, but all of them looked sheepish.

  ‘Okay, let’s break this up,’ she sent to Gibson over the link she had with him. ‘We need to disarm these operators and sort this out before more Corporate forces arrive.’

  ‘Cover me, I’ll sort these guys out,’ Gibson answered her.

  ‘Copy that,’ she said to him and hung back as he moved up and started to disarm the operators one at a time, moving their guns a few meters away. Once it was clear they had the upper hand and were no longer in danger of being shot, Frankie moved forward and walked up to the exiles, crouching down next to them. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked. They all looked shaken and scared, and some were looking over at their dead friend. A couple of the people here were clearly distraught.

  ‘I suppose so. I mean, thanks for saving us. Who are you?’ asked
a man who she guessed to be in his thirties. He looked just as shaken up as the rest of them and wore similarly old and ragged clothes, but he had a look in his eye that spoke of resistance and strength.

  ‘That’s not important, but we work with the security services. Are there any more of you around here?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I believe this is all that’s left. Look, we just wanted to send a message to the Corps, you know, to show them how much they’ve hurt us?’

  ‘It’s okay, I understand. Look, you’re free to go, you’ve done nothing wrong,’ she said, suddenly hearing approaching footsteps.

  ‘Nothing wrong?’ asked an indignant female voice from a short distance away.

  Frankie turned around to see two more operators walking into the room from a side passage with a dishevelled looking woman sporting bruises and several cuts that had clearly been bleeding. The operators had their guns up, matching Frankie and Gibson, who were aiming back at them.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ the woman continued. ‘They kidnapped and tortured me simply because I work for one of the Corporations, just like thousands of other people out there. I wanna know who they think they are? And why the hell are you protecting them? They’re the terrorists. They’re the criminals. You should be arresting them,’ she said.

  Frankie stepped forward, listening to the woman’s rant, and sighed. It seemed that once again the exiles had taken things into their own hands. She got it, she understood, they felt aggrieved, they wanted revenge, they wanted payback, but this was not the way to do it. However, she sympathised with them, and she didn’t want them killed by Corporate operators or arrested and thrown into jail without having the chance of a more normal life again.

  She’d dealt with this a few times now, and the one thing the Corporations didn’t want was for their actions against the exiles to be made public.

  ‘Miss, I’m sorry,’ Frankie said. ‘I had no idea. So, I tell you what. I work for the government, so let’s bring the police down here, get these exiles and the Corporate operators to answer a few questions, find out what happened, and maybe we can sort it out that way?’

  ‘Perfect, that sounds great,’ the woman said.

  Frankie raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t expected that response. Generally, they buckled and agreed to walk away, but she’d said it now, so she’d need to double down on the suggestion while playing for time.

  ‘Um, Miss Reynolds,’ said the gruff voice of one of the operators standing next to her. ‘I’m afraid we can’t authorise that. We have strict instructions to bring you in without the authorities being involved.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. I want these guys prosecuted. I want them arrested. They kidnapped me; does no one here understand that?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course, but that’s not part of our mission parameters. I’m sorry, I can’t authorise that,’ the operator continued.

  ‘Bullshit. If you won’t call them, I will,’ the woman barked.

  ‘Let’s not get hasty, shall we,’ said a voice Frankie recognised from the direction of the entrance they had used to come in here.

  Frankie turned and saw Wynter, the Psytech cyberneticist that once used to be one of Doctor Xenox’s students, striding in with five more operators surrounding her. Wynter wore her usual trouser suit with her hair pulled tightly back into a bun, showing off the sub-dermal circuitry that crept around the edges of her face. Her black cybernetic eyes gleamed in the meagre light as she walked confidently into the room.

  ‘What do you… Oh, thank God, sir, I had no idea you were here,’ Miss Reynolds said.

  ‘God had nothing to do with it,’ Wynter said, deadpan.

  ‘Ur, okay, sure. Look, we need to call the authorities down here, like this woman suggested,’ she said, glancing over at Frankie as she spoke.

  ‘Shut up,’ Wynter barked before turning to the two operators who had been with Miss Reynolds. ‘Lower your weapons. There’s no need for more violence today,’ she said.

  The woman who had been kidnapped fell silent for a moment, a little shocked at the outburst. ‘Excuse me?’ she said after a second, but her voice was quiet and meek.

  ‘No authorities will be called here today. Instead, we’ll leave, take you back, and we’ll have a little talk about your personal security,’ she said, smiling. ‘Frankie, I apologise for the confusion, and please, lower your guns, you’re in no danger from us today. There’s a time and place for that kind of thing, don’t you think?’

  Frankie did not like that comment, but she let it go and lowered her rifle, sensing no deception from her. The woman who had been kidnapped was clearly not happy, though, and she went to speak again, to protest, but Wynter shut her down right away with just a single look.

  ‘Take her back to the flyer,’ Wynter said to the operators who were in here with her, leaving her and one remaining guard.

  Frankie turned to the exiles, who now either stood or sat, waiting to see if they were free to go.

  ‘Go on, get out of here. Go and live your lives and stop trying to get revenge on the Corporations. You will always lose, and you will eventually end up dead. Leave the management of the Corps to the government and us. Got it?’ she asked.

  The exiles mumbled their answers, which were basically in the affirmative as they shuffled out of the room. Frankie watched them go before turning back to Wynter, who was waiting patiently for her.

  ‘It’s impressive watching you work; seeing Xenox’s masterpiece in action like that. I am enjoying following the reports we get of your missions. You have helped us against some of the worst excesses of the exiles since the Liberation, but don’t think that that in any way changes how we feel about you,’ she said, talking in low tones while walking towards and then around her.

  Wynter was trying to intimidate her, to assert her authority over her, but Frankie just felt mild amusement about her efforts.

  ‘Wynter, I think you can assume I know better than that,’ Frankie said.

  Wynter stopped circling her, coming to a halt right in front of her and smiled. ‘Good, then I shall bid you good day. I have work to do, as, I’m sure, you do, too. Pass my regards onto Xenox for me, won’t you,’ she said as she started to walk away.

  ‘Of course,’ Frankie answered as she watched Wynter walk out. ‘Did you catch that?’ Frankie sent through the neural link with Xenox.

  ‘Of course, thanks. I never did like her,’ Xenox said.

  ‘Then why did you train her?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘It’s not like I had much of a choice, you know,’ Xenox answered her. ‘I was assigned several promising engineers and scientists to train; she just happened to be the most successful, but also the most ruthless.’

  ‘Of course, I sometimes forget who we’re dealing with here. Anyway, she seems to have risen through the ranks since your departure.’

  ‘I’m not surprised, she was always ambitious. Her intensity used to scare me somewhat. Had I stayed at Psytech, she might have tried for my life one day,’ he said.

  ‘Really?’ Frankie asked. It sounded like an exaggeration to her.

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past her, that’s all I’ll say,’ he said.

  ‘If you say so. Okay, I think we’re done here; we’re on our way back,’ she said and led Gibson out of the complex.

  3.03

  ‘All right, one more time. Come at me and try not to hold back; you won’t hurt me,’ Frankie said.

  ‘Okay,’ Dion answered, taking a breath before stepping into her and throwing a series of punches. She’d been training him for a few weeks now, ever since the Nano Liberation. He was one of the weak links in the group when it came to a fight, and he really did need to know how to handle himself. Xenox had given him a few data packages that gave him some fundamental knowledge of how to fight, but he needed to put them into practice, which was how these training sessions fitted in. He was quite the competent fighter by now, and was showing great promise with a gun as well. Like Gibson, apart from his neural net an
d his Nanobots, Dion was entirely human, so he wasn’t much of a match against the likes of Frankie, but she made the perfect sparring partner because he could really let loose without the fear of hurting her.

  Frankie had been enjoying these lessons with him; finding the process of teaching him to be a lot more therapeutic than she had ever really thought it could be. She found she left each of these sessions with a glow and satisfaction that she was helping someone else learn something. It was a sense of achievement that she had also experienced, although, on a different scale, with the successful liberation of the Nanobots.

  She still wasn’t sure that the sheer scale of what they had done had really sunk in yet. She still found it amazing that they had been able to complete the mission, given the odds that had been stacked against them.

  Every day, she heard something on the news about how the Liberation had affected something else in another far off country, either for better or worse, and knowing that she and her team were directly responsible for that felt strange.

  Janus, the hacker genius who had helped them had disappeared the day of the successful deployment of the virus, and they hadn’t heard from him since. But she wasn’t surprised. He’d made his position on working for the government clear during his time here. He really did not like it, so his departure was not really unexpected.

  She hoped he was okay, though, and that he might find some kind of quiet place to live… maybe.

  Frankie parried Dion’s attacks, his punches and kicks hitting her arms and legs where she blocked them. He wore pads to protect his flesh from her tough artificial body, but he always seemed to get bruised up from their sessions, and it was usually him that ended the session when it just became too much for him to handle.

  As the fight progressed, she could usually sense his fatigue and knew he was reaching the end of what he would be able to handle for the moment and often decided to end the session for him before he called it. She ducked in, dodging one of his punches and grabbed his arm, twisting it and then forcing him face down to the ground where she ended up sitting on top of his back, his arm locked behind him.