He had no idea how his new associates planned to sneak them out of the Core, and he hated having to trust them. But there was really no alternative – he couldn’t think of any other way to complete the mission. Of course his hired help would have bolted if they knew what his group really intended. The insanity of the whole thing was actually helpful – no one would anticipate what they were actually up to. People did not break into Alliance Intelligence HQ.
Erik was hoping that attitude would help them on the actual mission too. The people at Alliance Intelligence had everybody so scared to death, there was a good chance they’d be overconfident, secure in the knowledge that no one would dare try something as mad as what Cain intended.
The guide gave them specific instructions, and they split up into five pairs, each walking to a different intersection. Cain didn’t like it, but he understood. Cameras would track them everywhere, and a large group like theirs would draw attention. He didn’t trust these people, but if they wanted to take out his team, they didn’t need to split them up; all they had to do was turn them in. Besides, Erik’s entire crew was made up of long-term veterans, more than able to take care of themselves.
His concerns proved to be unfounded; his new associates were true to their word. One by one, a large transport stopped at each location, loading two of Cain’s team and driving on to the next. It took some detours, mixing up the route to confuse any surveillance or tracking programs that might have detected them, but in less than an hour, they were inside a large plasti-crete building situated right along the Wall. Cain wasn’t sure exactly what the facility was; it looked like some sort of utility structure for moving water in or wastes out. Or both…Erik had become adept at many things, but civil engineering wasn’t one of them.
The Wall was ten meters high, built of reinforced plast-crete, with watchtowers ever 200 meters. It surrounded the Washbalt Core, the protected central section of the city where the middle and upper classes lived, segregated from the crumbling ghettoes and masses of uneducated Cogs. Cain had been amazed when he first saw it. The massive fortification dwarfed the outer perimeter of the Manhattan Protected Zone, where he’d been born and lived the first eight years of his life. New York certainly had slums, and they were decaying and violent, but nothing like the vast and nightmarish belt of destitution wrapped around Washbalt. The capital of the Alliance, and before that the United States, the city had become the focal point for the dispossessed and those who fought against what the nation was becoming. The Wall had been built during the Disruptions, and its strength attested to just how bad things got during those troubled times, despite how sanitized the official histories had become.
Cain and his Marines had three guides, two men and a woman, and they’d hardly said a word. Finally, the woman spoke briefly with her companions and walked over to Cain. She was nearly as tall as he was and broad shouldered. Erik bet himself she could take both of the men in a fight.
“This is as far as we take you.” She pointed toward a large hatch that one of the men had opened. “That is a maintenance conduit for the southern sector waste disposal system.” Her voice was harsh, impatient. She clearly wanted to conclude this business and get on her way. “There are access hatches leading to the outside every half kilometer. They are heavily reinforced plasti-steel. The seventh one will be unlocked in 30 minutes and will remain so for ten minutes.” She stared at Cain as she spoke, and her voice became even firmer. “You must be out before the hatch locks again or you will be trapped. The door from here into the access tube will be closed and locked behind you.” She stared at him with an expression that was somehow intense and disinterested at the same time. “Understood?”
Cain wasn’t particularly skilled at tolerating people he found annoying, but his mind was focused on the mission, and so he pushed back his natural reaction. “Understood.”
“The balance of the payment is due now.”
Erik was going to argue; his agreement had been for the rest of the payment to be made when they were outside the city. Climbing into some dusty maintenance tube for the sewers didn’t meet his definition of “outside.” But he didn’t really hold any cards here, and he knew it. He glanced over at one of his team, a tall, sandy-haired man just under two meters tall. Major James Teller had served with Cain for years, and he read the unspoken directive immediately. He pulled a pack from his back and reached in, taking the platinum bars out one at a time. He was watchful – the team had a fortune in the precious metal with them, and they were wary of a doublecross. He looked at Cain, who gave him a slight nod, and he began handing the bars to the woman.
“Thank you.” One of the men walked up to her and she handed him the bars. “This concludes our business. Good luck to you all.” Cain had never been wished luck less enthusiastically, but right now he would take what he could get.
“What about the scanning and security equipment?” He called out to the woman as she was walking to the door.
She stopped, though she didn’t bother to turn around to face him. “The security system will be offline for the next 40 minutes.” She sounded impatient, like someone answering a stupid question for the fourth or fifth time. “That is the most expensive thing you paid for.” She walked out the door, followed by the two men. Cain and his team were alone.
“Do you trust them, sir?” Teller looked at Cain, standing at attention as he spoke.
“Fuck no, James.” Cain let out a grim chuckle. “We just don’t have any alternative. And if they’re going to set us up, what difference does it make if they got a few bars of Vance’s platinum out of us first?” He turned his head, looking toward the hatch then back again toward Teller. “And cut the ‘sir’ stuff, James. Officially, we’re not even here.”
“Yes, si…yes, Erik.” Teller smiled for an instant. “Understood.”
“Ok, let’s get moving, people.” Cain led the way through the hatch, the team following in single file behind him. They were an elite group; half were officers, the rest veteran sergeants with years of combat experience. “Keep your eyes and ears wide open.”
They were walking on sections of metal grating, a meter wide and suspended about ten centimeters above the plasti-crete floor of the tunnel. The corridor ran adjacent to a massive cylindrical pipe, at least ten meters in diameter. It was dank and dusty; from what they could tell, this maintenance tube wasn’t used all that often.
They were trying to be quiet, but the sound of their boots on the loosely bolted sections of the grating echoed off the walls and ceiling. Cain kept cringing when the noise got loud, but they certainly seemed to be alone here…and if the security system had not been disabled as they’d been promised, it didn’t matter how silent they were. Their movement, breath, body temperature, and a dozen other things would still give them away.
They passed the first access hatch. There was a metal ladder attached to the wall going up to the ceiling about 6 meters above. They could see a round door just above the ladder. If they’d been given good information, that door led to the surface.
They kept walking, reaching the seventh ladder about ten minutes early. The team was anxious, but Cain insisted on following the prescribed schedule exactly. He waited precisely twelve minutes, then he climbed the ladder and reached out to the controls for the hatch. It was unlocked as promised, and Cain pulled the lever. With a soft hissing sound, the door slid to the side, allowing a shaft of late afternoon sunlight into the tunnel.
Cain looked down the ladder at his team lined up behind him, and with a quiet sigh he pulled himself up and through the hatch…and into the ghostly world of his past.