Alex sprinted to fetch his assault rifle, and stood guard against the door.
More clones have been called , and all three of us know it. But we can’t leave before the files finish deleting. One push of a button c ould cancel all our work.
‘You’ve done fairly well too,’ answered Marshall. ‘Leading the charge against an innumerable army, in the face of autism, Pathological Demand Avoidance, intense behavioural issues, exclusion from six different schools, and just generally being a twat.’
‘So you’ve read up on me. Oh, I’m so scared.’
‘Yes, I have. You look a lot different from the passport photo I’ve been looking at.’
‘Yeah, I was a lot sexier back then. War does horrible things to people, doesn’t it?’
Ewan glanced at the screen. Halfway done.
‘So,’ he continued, ‘did you call to talk about something, or are you just keeping us here long enough for reinforcements to arrive? In fact, if you knew we were up here, why didn’t you kill us ten minutes ago? You left two rats chewing at your computer wires for ages. I’ve had a great time rummaging through Unsworth’s things.’
‘Because of a little incident we just had at a checkpoint near Vehicle Port Three. Does the name Arnold Salter ring any bells?’
Alex’s eyes widened too. Clearly, Marshall spoke so enthusiastically that his voice could be heard across the room.
‘Twenty minutes ago I received an alert that the vehicle port’s deployment director was seen trying to leave New London. He got as far as the security booth at the electric fence, but was unable to provide any reason for his departure, or even identification. One of the guards called his line manager and Salter tried to speed away. Of course, the armed guards didn’t let him get far.’
Poor guy. The vomiting wonder barely lasted a minute outside New London. Good job he was on their side and not ours.
‘After a little research,’ Marshall finished, ‘it turned out he’d used his keycard to check himself into the Central Research Headquarters, at exactly the same time as he was abandoning his post. It didn’t take a genius.’
Ewan let out a huff, which must have sounded down the phone.
‘Frustrated?’ asked Marshall. ‘Then you’re going to hate this next bit. Because I have to ask… how exactly are you planning on destroying everything related to Atmospheric Metallurgic Excitation in the whole Citadel, fight your way up to Floor B and destroy my computer, all in the space of half an hour?’
Ewan checked his watch. Midnight was nearly three hours away. What the hell was Marshall talking about?
‘Half an hour?’ he asked.
‘Give or take,’ Marshall answered. ‘You thought we would launch at midnight, didn’t you?’
Some heavy object froze inside Ewan, restricting his muscles and paralysing his chest.
‘It’s the kind of thing Grant would do,’ he whispered, unable to hide his nerves.
‘Wrong, Ewan. It’s the kind of thing he’d want you to believe he’d do. What his daughter would believe he’d do, and what she’d tell her allies. In reality, there’s a weapons cache in Beaconsfield that needs emptying, and a steady stream of transports are bringing the stock back here. Grant’s switching the shield on as soon as the last vehicle makes it past the border, and they’ve been given a deadline of nine thirty. He’s had countdowns to nine thirty on his office walls and everything, and once the countdown ended he was going to launch the shield, deliberately reduce security and watch you walk straight through… with your metal weapons, ammo, watches, belts and so on. You would have looked spectacular as you’d blown up like your other friend.’
Ewan’s fingers began to twiddle with the phone cord, for whatever anxiety relief it would bring. The game had changed, without warning or mercy. Everything had changed. Marshall’s computer destroyed by half nine? He and his friends had never even been to Floor B. A thirty-minute time limit wasn’t enough. It was lunacy.
‘Why are you telling us?’ he asked in a meek whisper.
‘Because I’d rather you knew. You’re far more likely to lose a gunfight if you know you’ve already lost the war. Psychological warfare, Ewan. Now I’ve put that knowledge into your head it’s going to stay there, bouncing around in your thick little skull. If the Taliban had used that kind of genius against Major George West, they might have actually won and you’d never have been born. They’d have improved the world in one way, at least.’
‘Did you ever fight the Taliban?’ Ewan spat, the mention of his father restoring some of his energy. ‘They were smarter than the cavemen everyone thought they were. Dad told me the stories. I grew up with them.’
‘Afghanistan was a playground, Ewan. You think that barren, mountainous country is hard work? Try selling anti-tank rockets to two West African militia leaders, each of whom is trying to commit genocide against the other. Money and firearms are all you have, and they’re all your clients care about. Have you ever looked into the eyes of an ally who values the clip of bullets in your hand more than he values you?’
‘Maybe you’re just crap at making friends.’
Ewan glanced to the computer once more. Only a fraction of the data remained. The promise of progress both energised him and frightened him. According to Alex’s face, Ewan was not alone in his stress.
‘That’s fine talk, coming from you,’ said Marshall. ‘Your father may have been a decent soldier, but he couldn’t turn you into a decent person.’
The phone trembled in Ewan’s hands. Not through fear, but anger.
‘My dad was more than a decent soldier. He was everything to me.’
‘And now he’s a decomposed skeleton scattered across your living room floor. Along with your useless mum. And your aunt, and your uncle, and eight-year-old Alfie. Still, it was nice that we kept the whole family in one place after we killed them.’
‘Not the whole family,’ snarled Ewan. ‘You should have killed one more.’
‘Oh dear. We missed the retard.’
‘Yeah. And don’t you regret it now?’
He turned around, expecting Alex to be grinning. Instead, he was worried.
‘Only for the next few minutes,’ said Marshall. ‘Because that’s the thing with rats who chew at computer wires. They’re too stupid to know when they’ve spent too much time chewing. And one flash later, they’re dead.’
Ewan heard running footsteps.
‘Any last words I can pass on to Grant?’ asked Marshall with a laugh.
‘Yeah,’ said Ewan with his eyes pointed at the CCTV camera. ‘Tell him his daughter’s a great kisser.’
Ewan hung up the phone, grabbed his assault rifle, and ran to the nearest clone’s body. He plucked the keycard from its pocket, assuming Salter’s to have been deactivated. Then he ran to the computer screen. So close. So close.
‘A great kisser?’ said Alex. ‘Seriously?’
‘I shouldn’t have said that. It was disrespectful to talk about her that way.’
‘You mean you and Shannon are—’
‘When we leave,’ Ewan interrupted, ‘we split up. Whichever one of us reaches the experiment chamber first, burn it to the ground.’