Breakaway: A Cassandra Kresnov Novel (v1.1) Read Online Free
Author: Joel Shepherd
open doorway beyond. He flattened himself against the side wall, darted a quick look around, then followed, with gun levelled one-handed. Rear corridor, much smaller than the mains. Staffroom down one way, dead-end door with no-admittance notices. Closed. They shouldn't be closed with the auto-emergency systems opening everything for evacuation. He edged sideways down the corridor, pistol trained the opposite way, covering his more vulnerable side. Uplinks gave him nothing beyond the closed staffroom door either.
He spun and kicked in one smooth motion, pistol searching as the door smashed open ... there were lockers, cabinets and drawers for various staff things in rows, narrow aisles between for access. No sound, beyond the echoing wail of emergency sirens, and the background crackle of reports, gunfire and schematic audio in his ear. The room smelt slightly stale, telling of less than perfect ventilation, and too much shoe polish and body spray ... and something else.
He crept forward, darting a quick look into each aisle between the big storage rows ... and was little surprised by the dark-suited body lying face down in the third aisle, head bent around at an unnatural angle. S-3 monitored each other's vitals, was his immediate thought. But the network was chaotic, damaged, and various encryption channels weren't working at all. A quick attention to his uplink schematics showed where the next obvious hole in the perimeter would be.
He turned and walked, briskly, weapon ready. Running was too dangerous now. In this proximity, he needed time to react. Down the narrow corridor into the broader thoroughfare and turned right where the main traffic would continue straight ahead-that was carpeted, with wall signs pointing toward convention rooms. The way right was bare floor, and the open doors down the end revealed wide steel benches for food preparation.
Ari entered the kitchen sideways, back to one side door, weapon ready. Switched quickly across to the other side. The kitchen was broad, divided by several long aisles, benches, microwaves and other kitchen stuff between ... Ari didn't know, he preferred takeaway most nights. He rolled quickly behind the near benches, and crawled.
Heard muffled activity, close by, like someone rearranging gear. A clatter that could have been a weapon on a steel counter. Whoever it was was in a hurry. He reached the end of the bench and rolled fast to his feet, pistol levelled. "Don't move."
The man froze. He'd been standing on a counter, out of sight of the main kitchen entrance behind the tall storage units, now side-on to Ari's position. Attempting to stuff something into the space between the big storage cupboards and the ceiling. He was wearing formal pants and shoes like any number of guests, Ari noted, but his jacket was lying on the counter alongside his feet, and his plain shirt bore crease marks in unusual places. The bundle he was attempting to stuff into the gap between cupboard and ceiling dangled harness straps, close-fitting, low-intensity magneto locks, undetectable on basic secu rity scan. God knew how they'd gotten the charge past the detectors, though.
"Hello, Claude," Ari said. The pistol fixed an unwavering sight upon the blond-haired young man's left eardrum. That was where the uplink transmission would come from. With his own systems at fullmax, Ari reckoned he'd detect anything serious in time. Human encrypt formulations weren't exactly millisecond fast, and personal bombs would require serious encryption to avoid them going off in random traffic. "Change your mind about the "suicide" bit, did you?"
"Ariel." With jaw-tight frustration. "I might have known. Did you kill Hector?"
"Hector killed himself. His death was pointless and achieved nothing. Yours will be too unless you deactivate that stupid thing and step down here. You can't penetrate the floor with that explosive, anyway, it's too thick."
A blatant lie ... at least he had no real idea of the truth.
He spun and kicked in one smooth motion, pistol searching as the door smashed open ... there were lockers, cabinets and drawers for various staff things in rows, narrow aisles between for access. No sound, beyond the echoing wail of emergency sirens, and the background crackle of reports, gunfire and schematic audio in his ear. The room smelt slightly stale, telling of less than perfect ventilation, and too much shoe polish and body spray ... and something else.
He crept forward, darting a quick look into each aisle between the big storage rows ... and was little surprised by the dark-suited body lying face down in the third aisle, head bent around at an unnatural angle. S-3 monitored each other's vitals, was his immediate thought. But the network was chaotic, damaged, and various encryption channels weren't working at all. A quick attention to his uplink schematics showed where the next obvious hole in the perimeter would be.
He turned and walked, briskly, weapon ready. Running was too dangerous now. In this proximity, he needed time to react. Down the narrow corridor into the broader thoroughfare and turned right where the main traffic would continue straight ahead-that was carpeted, with wall signs pointing toward convention rooms. The way right was bare floor, and the open doors down the end revealed wide steel benches for food preparation.
Ari entered the kitchen sideways, back to one side door, weapon ready. Switched quickly across to the other side. The kitchen was broad, divided by several long aisles, benches, microwaves and other kitchen stuff between ... Ari didn't know, he preferred takeaway most nights. He rolled quickly behind the near benches, and crawled.
Heard muffled activity, close by, like someone rearranging gear. A clatter that could have been a weapon on a steel counter. Whoever it was was in a hurry. He reached the end of the bench and rolled fast to his feet, pistol levelled. "Don't move."
The man froze. He'd been standing on a counter, out of sight of the main kitchen entrance behind the tall storage units, now side-on to Ari's position. Attempting to stuff something into the space between the big storage cupboards and the ceiling. He was wearing formal pants and shoes like any number of guests, Ari noted, but his jacket was lying on the counter alongside his feet, and his plain shirt bore crease marks in unusual places. The bundle he was attempting to stuff into the gap between cupboard and ceiling dangled harness straps, close-fitting, low-intensity magneto locks, undetectable on basic secu rity scan. God knew how they'd gotten the charge past the detectors, though.
"Hello, Claude," Ari said. The pistol fixed an unwavering sight upon the blond-haired young man's left eardrum. That was where the uplink transmission would come from. With his own systems at fullmax, Ari reckoned he'd detect anything serious in time. Human encrypt formulations weren't exactly millisecond fast, and personal bombs would require serious encryption to avoid them going off in random traffic. "Change your mind about the "suicide" bit, did you?"
"Ariel." With jaw-tight frustration. "I might have known. Did you kill Hector?"
"Hector killed himself. His death was pointless and achieved nothing. Yours will be too unless you deactivate that stupid thing and step down here. You can't penetrate the floor with that explosive, anyway, it's too thick."
A blatant lie ... at least he had no real idea of the truth.
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