Code Name Firestorm Page 8

  “Drake!” said Simon. “If he rushes in now, he’ll ruin everything. If Blackwater sees those agents and panics, he’ll almost certainly release that stolen data onto the internet!”

  “Reboot complete,” announced Hercules.

  “Welcome back,” said Nero. “I’m picking up some odd power fluctuations in your circuits. Are you functioning correctly?”

  Hercules scuttled towards the other robots. His wing case slowly opened, and his large, powerful wings unfolded. Suddenly, lights appeared in his eye cameras. Red ones.

  “Functioning correctly,” he said flatly. “Reprogramming successful. Full destruction subroutine acknowledged. I must obey. Destruction of micro-robots commencing.”

  6:49 p.m.

  “Your tea’s getting cold!” cried Auntie Madge. “I told you not to be long. I wish I knew what you got up to in my garage, all hours of the day and night.”

  “I told you, Auntie Madge, it’s a special project,” said Blackwater. “Don’t be so nosy.”

  “Don’t you be so rude, young man!” said Auntie Madge.

  “Sorry, Auntie,” smiled Blackwater.

  It was dark outside. The dull glow of street lights shone through the living-room window.

  Blackwater opened his heavy trunk and took out a pair of headphones. He put them on and walked over to the portable radio that was perched on the windowsill close to his aunt’s chair.

  “Want the radio on, Auntie Madge?”

  “What? No, thanks.”

  “I’ll put it on anyway,” said Blackwater.

  He pressed the radio’s power button. At the same time, he pressed a button on a small remote control he had in his pocket. Instantly, the radio began to emit a loud, pulsing sound. The extra circuit he’d built into it was identical to the ones found in the speakers at Trendi Soundz. The sound rippled across the room, in waves of noise so intense they were almost visible.

  For a moment, Auntie Madge sat in her armchair with a look of bewilderment on her face. Then her eyes glazed over, becoming distant and unfocused.

  Blackwater switched off the radio. The hypnotic signal cut out and he replaced the headphones in his trunk.

  “Confirm Firestorm Control,” he said.

  Auntie Madge got up from her armchair and stood straight. “Control Code Name Firestorm is in place,” she said in a flat voice.

  “You will defend the house and the garage with your life,” said Blackwater.

  “With my life, confirmed.”

  “You will deploy weapons as I showed you last week, when I hypnotized you before.”

  “Deploy weapons, confirmed.”

  “You will attack anyone who tries to enter. You will show no mercy. You will remain hidden and allow any attackers to believe that it’s me operating the weapons.”

  Auntie Madge’s lips trembled slightly. “No … mercy… Confirmed.”

  Blackwater smiled to himself. “Right,” he whispered. “I’m off. Goodbye, Auntie.”

  “Hercules is repaired, but he’s also fully under Blackwater’s control,” said Nero.

  Without warning, the stag beetle suddenly lunged at Chopper. His cutting claw clacked savagely at the dragonfly’s wings. Chopper darted out of the way just in time.

  “I’ll try to break into Hercules’s programming through our communications network,” said Nero.

  “Be quick!” said Morph. “We’re trapped inside this force field with him!”

  Widow leaped across the stag beetle’s path and fired looping lengths of web around him. With lightning speed, Hercules spun in mid-air, slicing the cords of webbing apart with one edge of his claw.

  Using Widow’s attack as cover, Morph flung himself up and around Hercules. The centipede’s gelatinous, flexible body quickly squeezed and tightened, pulling Hercules’s wing case closed and forcing him to tumble over onto his back.

  “Quick!” said Morph. “He’s too powerful for me – he’ll snap me in half! Someone find a way to disable his systems.”

  “I can’t hack into his program,” said Nero. “Blackwater’s added too many firewalls.”

  “Sabre, Nero, will either of your stings take him offline?” said Chopper.

  “Negative,” said Sabre, “our weaponry won’t work on machines, and especially not on robots like us.”

  Hercules powered up his exoskeleton. He was fitted with a variety of tools to help him tunnel through almost anything. He could even melt his way through metal.

  “He’s heating up!” said Morph. “My systems might overload!”

  Chopper, Nero and Widow joined the battle. The robots grappled around the inside of the speaker. Nero was thrown back with a kick from two of the stag beetle’s legs. Sabre had to whip from side to side to avoid being crushed in Hercules’s claw. Morph, his components getting steadily hotter, held on tightly to restrict Hercules’s movements as much as he could. Despite the beetle’s superior strength, the others managed to keep him at bay, by working together.

  “Combined attack may result in defeat,” said Hercules. The red lights in his eyes flashed sharply. “Link to main computer now established.”

  Suddenly, the energy barrier above the robots vanished.

  “We’re free!” said Morph.

  “He’s connected himself to Blackwater’s PC,” said Sabre.

  At that moment, all around the garage, machinery juddered and blinked into life. An array of Blackwater’s weapons had switched themselves on.

  “Oh no,” said Morph quietly.

  “Reprogramming must be obeyed. Full destruction subroutine must be obeyed,” said Hercules. “Total destruction of robots and all garage contents. Begin.”

  At the far end of the garage, a barrage of miniature rockets launched.

  “Hive 2 to HQ, I’m tracking Blackwater,” signalled Sirena. “He’s loaded that trunk in his car and he’s driving away. I’m on the roof of the car.”

  “Stay with him,” said Queen Bee, from the SWARM laboratory. “Where are Drake’s assault squad?”

  “They’re getting close to the house,” said Sirena. “They haven’t seen Blackwater leave. I’ve had no indication that he knows they’re so close. He doesn’t realize how narrowly he’s avoided them.”

  “However, we can be sure he’s prepared for whoever he thinks might come to get him, whether it’s the police, MI5 or us,” said Queen Bee. “We know he favours booby traps. That house is probably full of them!”

  “Can’t we have MI5’s attack called off?” said Sirena. “They may end up hurt.”

  “I doubt Drake would listen, if it was us warning him,” said Queen Bee.

  At that moment, MI5 agent Drake raised a walkie-talkie to his lips. “Go! Go! Go!”

  All the members of his squad broke into a run. They emerged into the open, charging towards the front of the house and down the alleyway that ran along behind the garage.

  Inside the house, the hypnotized Auntie Madge could hear the thudding of boots. She watched through the living-room window. She could see the dark flak jackets and helmets of the MI5 agents in the glow of the street lights. Their machine guns glinted.

  She picked up the remote control for her TV. Blackwater had made a number of hidden modifications to its circuits. She pressed a long sequence of buttons.

  Up in the dusty attic, where Blackwater had told Auntie Madge he was storing some stock from the shop, a series of lights flashed. Hatches sprung open on the outside of the roof.

  Below, one of the MI5 agents slapped Drake on the shoulder. “Sir! Up there! Something coming at us!”

  “What?” said Drake.

  A rain of small explosive spheres suddenly fell all around them. Each one detonated as it hit the ground. The agents were knocked back as fireballs burst into the air with a series of thunderous bangs. The same thing was happening to the agents approaching the house from other directions.

  Machinery in the attic sent a second wave shooting out of the hatches in the roof. This time, sticky, football-sized blobs o
f Blackwater’s instant-setting sealant were rapidly fired out. They emitted low bleeps, as heat-seeking electronics inside guided them at speed towards anyone nearby. Any MI5 agent who couldn’t dodge them quickly enough found themselves glued to the ground by an arm or a leg.

  “Blackwater’s not giving up without a fight!” Drake yelled into his walkie-talkie. “All units, prepare to move in on my signal!”

  Inside the garage, everything was ablaze. The miniature rockets, fired at Hercules’s command, had exploded in sheets of flame.

  The SWARM robots faced three dangers at once: attack from Hercules’s razor-sharp claw, the spreading fire, and the weaponry that was activating all around them. Like the MI5 agents outside, the robots found themselves targeted by all kinds of Blackwater gadgets and booby traps.

  The insects darted in every direction, spreading out across the garage. All were desperately trying to stay out of reach of one deadly attack or another.

  “When Hercules said ‘total destruction’ he wasn’t kidding!” said Morph, squeezing under Blackwater’s PC to avoid the flames.

  “Blackwater must be determined to leave no evidence,” said Chopper. He zipped around, avoiding a stream of electrical darts, his brain calculating flight paths a billion times a second.

  “There’s no way to escape this garage,” said Morph. “Everything is sealed and shielded. The door is too tightly fixed for even me to squeeze under.”

  “Is there no way to deal with Hercules?” said Sabre. He was flying at top speed, staying only a few centimetres ahead of the stag beetle’s snapping claw. “If his link to Blackwater’s computers can be broken, perhaps we can stop all this destruction?”

  “I have an idea,” said Nero. “The risk of severe damage is high, but if it works it’ll restore Hercules to normal. Sabre, direct him this way.”

  “Logged,” said Sabre. He dived down, swooping over Nero, who was scuttling across the table. As Hercules flashed past in pursuit, Nero hooked his tail around Hercules and was whipped up into the air.

  The stag beetle twisted, ready to hurl Nero aside. From the scorpion’s back, a fibre-optic probe darted out and sunk itself into Hercules’s head. The probe was normally used to hack computers. What it might do when connected to another robot, not even Nero could guess.

  “Power surge!” cried Nero. “Sensors overloading! Will … try to … hack Hercules’s reprogramming…”

  Suddenly, Hercules’s power systems shut down. The stag beetle dropped to the floor like a pebble, taking Nero with him.

  Meanwhile, the fire in the garage was raging. The temperature rising rapidly. Blackwater’s weaponry had started to misfire and malfunction, sending explosive charges and crackling electrical arcs spinning everywhere.

  “There’s no way we can stop it!” cried Morph.

  “Mission priority is to escape,” said Chopper.

  “But how?” asked Morph.

  “By making things worse,” said Chopper. “Morph, you’re beneath Blackwater’s computer. Insert a destruct command into every weapon in the system at once.”

  “But that will cause an explosion,” said Morph. “Even Blackwater didn’t intend that! He only wanted to gut the inside of this place. Anything visible from outside would draw attention.”

  “There’s no alternative now,” said Chopper. “Don’t worry, we’re tough enough to survive the blast. In theory, at least.”

  “Logged,” said Morph. He quickly squeezed over to the thick cable that joined Blackwater’s computer to the rest of the equipment in the garage. He stabbed into the cable with his antennae to establish a live connection into the data stream. “I hope this doesn’t damage us too badly.”

  He sent the command.

  Less than a second later, the whole garage shuddered and rocked. An explosive force cracked the walls and punched a wide split in the ceiling. The door trembled, then fell off and dropped forward with a loud clang.

  At their positions outside the house, the MI5 agents flinched and looked at each other. Drake barked into his walkie-talkie. “Looks like Blackwater’s chucking bombs at us now! But he won’t get away! Move in – full force.”

  The inside of the garage was a smoking, blackened ruin. Every last item of Blackwater’s equipment was either burnt or completely destroyed.

  For a moment, in the dark courtyard, there was silence. Then the SWARM robots shot out through the open doorway. Chopper carried Morph, while Widow spun her way along micro-threads. Sabre was followed by Hercules, who held Nero in his folded legs. All the robots were singed and grimy, but still fully functioning. Chopper immediately transmitted a package of data back to HQ, including the information that Drake had been working with Blackwater.

  “Remarkably little damage,” said Sabre. “To us, I mean.”

  “Hercules?” said Chopper.

  “Nero’s cure worked,” said the stag beetle. “Blackwater’s subroutine has been deleted from my programming.”

  “My sensors need to be realigned,” said Nero, “but I’m unharmed.”

  Sabre buzzed in a way which a human might have said was grumpy.

  Queen Bee cut into the robots’ communication network. “Good to hear from you all,” she said, “but there’s no time to spare. Get out of there right now.”

  As she spoke, Drake and his MI5 agents kicked in the front door of the house. The robots could hear shouts, and their X-ray sensors picked up agents charging through every room. Auntie Madge stood calmly, still under the influence of her nephew’s hypnotic signal.

  The robots flew up and over the house, heading away at top speed.

  “We’ve received your info on Agent Drake,” said Queen Bee. “You can leave him to us. Let him and his men go running round that house for a while, it’ll keep them out of our way. Sirena is on the roof of Blackwater’s car. Home in on her signal. We don’t know where he’s going, but that car has to be stopped.”

  “He’s got the stolen MI6 data with him,” said Chopper.

  “Exactly,” said Queen Bee. “And he knows about you now, which makes it all the more important that he doesn’t realize you’re after him. He’s almost certainly got some gadget rigged up to release the data online if he even suspects he’s cornered. Get him, and get that data. Otherwise half the world could be at war by morning!”

  “We’re live, Queen Bee,” replied the robots.

  7:04 p.m.

  At SWARM HQ, Queen Bee and Simon Turing were watching screens showing each robot’s visual and sensor data. Images of everything the robots were seeing were overlaid with flowing streams of information.

  “What’s the situation since the release of that video?” said Queen Bee.

  “Major news stories across the world,” said Simon. “A lot of arguments between diplomats and politicians. The foreign secretary is flying to Brussels as we speak to hold talks with the governments of EU countries. Social media are going mad. People in various countries are demanding to know what’s going on. It’s being contained, but if more data gets out, we’re in big trouble. Blackwater was very clever. He released just enough secrets to start a few rows, nothing more. For now.”

  “At least we can get that traitor Drake out of the picture once and for all,” said Queen Bee. “I’m due to take a conference call with the PM and the home secretary in –” she checked her watch – “four minutes. Drake can expect to be arrested within the hour.”

  “Let’s hope the robots can deal with Blackwater,” said Simon.

  “Yes,” said Queen Bee quietly. “They’re our only hope right now.”

  7:09 p.m.

  Blackwater’s rusty white car sped along, surrounded by the lights of the city. He was driving out of London, heading west.

  “You need to hurry,” signalled Sirena. “He’s stopping and starting now, because of the traffic, but he’ll get to the motorway in approximately ninety seconds. Once he’s at full speed, he’ll be moving too fast for you to catch up.”

  “Logged,” said Chopper. “We’re
less than five hundred metres away now. Closing in.”

  “Is the car itself booby-trapped?” said Nero.

  “Possibly,” said Sirena. “We should proceed with care. Scans show the rear of the vehicle contains only the luggage, plus some bags containing more clothes and electronic spare parts. However, I’m reading some odd electrical activity behind the car’s dashboard. He’s made modifications, but what they are I can’t be sure.”

  “Logged,” said Chopper. “Where’s the data?”

  “The USB stick containing the stolen MI6 data is inside the case, linked up to a laptop and a transmitter.”

  “Has he made duplicates of the data?”

  “I’ve searched all the computer memory in the luggage. There are laptop hard drives, solid-state memory cards and other USB sticks. None show data patterns similar to the USB stick with the data on it. That would seem to be the only copy. I’m sending you an exact fix on it now.”

  “Received,” said Chopper. “Four hundred metres and closing.”

  “What’s the best way to stop him?” said Morph. “A flat tyre?”

  “I could sting a tyre and cause what would look like an accidental blow-out,” said Sabre. Then he corrected himself: “No, I tried that on a moving car during the Operation Sting investigation. It didn’t work.”

  “Perhaps we should get into the engine?” said Nero. “We could cause a mechanical fault, which would force him to stop?”

  “Whatever we do,” said Chopper, “we must remember Queen Bee’s orders. He must not realize that it’s us trying to stop him.”

  “Logged,” replied the others.

  Blackwater tapped the car’s indicator. The long ramp to the motorway was coming up on his left. His fingers jittered nervously against the steering wheel.

  Suddenly, he slapped his hand on the wheel. “Idiot! I’ve let my own thoughts distract me! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his signal jammer. With one hand, and keeping his eyes on the road, he entered the code to turn it on.