3

O ver the next few hours, Tchercovic watched through the surveillance monitors as Stryder was tested at the lab before returning to his quarters.

At no time during this period was he left alone. There were at least two Marines with him, or close by, at all times. Getting to him through this barrier was not going to be as easy as he first thought.

While he was studying the monitors, another plan began to formulate in the back of his mind.

As he watched Stryder settle down for the night he realised what he must do. He must steal the research data and destroy the station. All the witnesses, test subjects and the much-vaunted Col Sec, with their esteemed Recon Delta, would be destroyed. They would be unable to testify as to who was responsible, or have the ability to rebuild.

Being the head of station security afforded him certain privileges, such as having all the station’s security protocols.

Entering the station’s main computer he logged into Engineering where he programmed the core reactor to go critical in one hour.

That should be plenty of time to sabotage the life pods, download the research data and get the hell off the station, he thought .

Once that was done he hacked into the main lab’s internal computer and entered the master decrypt code that unlocked all the files. All security chiefs on Outpost Research Stations are issued with the code key. Each key is specific to one station and is only to be used during major emergencies to retrieve important data so that it cannot be destroyed, or stolen.

Not bothering to sift through all the files for the pertinent data, and so that he didn’t leave anything behind, he downloaded them all onto a data card.

All that remained was to sabotage the escape pods and all the docking bays so that no one could leave, except him, of course. The best way to do that was to restrict access to the docking bays effectively locking them off. As for the life pods, he programmed them all to vent atmosphere thirty seconds after release from the station.

Confident that he’d left nothing to chance, he locked down the main computer with an encrypted command that would take over an hour to crack. By that time it would be too late.

He left his office and headed towards Docking Bay Six, the only one not locked down, and where a ship was berthed. It was his escape route.

The clock was ticking. There was less than forty-five minutes left before the station’s core went critical and destroyed everything and everyone on board.

No one knew what was about to happen, he had covered his tracks too well. They were all going to die and he was the only one who knew .

Slowly, he began to walk towards his ship and his way out.

SINCLAIR WAS ASLEEP when the silent alarm went off. Tchercovic had disabled the alarms when he programmed the reactor core to go critical but, thinking he had completed his task, failed to check if the audible alarms were the only ones activated.

A warning light shone directly into the face of the sleeping General from above his bed; a bright, intense white light guaranteed to wake anyone.

Scrambling out of bed he quickly pulled on his pants then said, “Computer, status.”

“Station’s main reactor will reach critical mass in forty-three minutes, twenty-seven seconds,” replied the calm female voice of the computer’s simulated interface.

“Reverse the action immediately,” ordered Sinclair as he continued dressing.

“Unable to comply,” said the computer.

“Explain?” Sinclair asked as he stopped dressing, a bad feeling swarming over him.

“To initiate that action, an activation code is required.”

“Command override, Alpha One, authorisation code Sinclair, General, Col Sec,” Sinclair said quickly as he frantically resumed getting dressed. Somehow, he knew his override code would not be accepted, but he had to try.

“Unable to comply, code not recognised. Countdown will continue,” replied the computer .

Through his NI he said, “Engineering, what’s your status?”

Almost immediately a voice came back on to say, “We’re a bit busy just now sir. We’re attempting to re-initialise the reactor safeguards but the main computer’s locked us out. We’ll get back to you.”

Sinclair knew this was bad and he knew who was behind it. It had to be Howard. Next, he contacted Stryder. When he came back, it was obvious he’d been asleep.

“Yes sir?” he said his voice thick with fatigue having just been woken up.

“Howard’s sabotaged the station. The reactor will go critical in forty minutes and he’s locked us out of the main computer,” Sinclair told him urgently, yet calmly.

Stryder was instantly awake on hearing the news. “If that’s the case and he’s disabled the alarms, it’s safe to assume he’s covered his tracks. He’ll have downloaded what he needed from the computer and probably made sure we couldn’t get off the station, should we somehow be alerted before we blew up,” he said, surprising himself by just how alert he was, so quickly.

“We have to stop him getting away with the project data,” Sinclair said.

“Computer, locate Captain Howard,” Stryder said.

“Captain Howard is on Deck Eight, en route to Docking Bay Six,” was the reply.

“You get the evacuation started, sir. I’ll get Howard,” Stryder said. Before Sinclair could even think about replying, the link was severed and Stryder was leaving his quarters having got fully dressed during the call .

Two Recon Delta Marines met him at the door; one of them wore the stripes of a captain. He was slightly taller than Stryder with wide shoulders and a broad chest. His dark brown hair was clipped into a buzz cut, identical to the other Marine standing next to him. Steel grey eyes stared at Stryder as he appeared in the doorway.

“Excuse me sir, where are you going?” he asked.

“No time for details, but this station is going to explode in little over half an hour. I’m going after the guy responsible before he escapes. He has the key that allows us back into the main computer that’ll prevent it, otherwise we’ll have to evacuate. Now get out of my way soldier.”

The Marine weighed up what he’d heard, saw the intense look in Stryder’s eyes, and came to an immediate decision.

“Okay sir, we’re with you,” said the Marine.

“Good, but General Sinclair might need some help with the evacuation, I can handle this on my own,” Stryder replied.

“With respect sir, I’ll stay with you,” replied the Marine who then turned to his team mate and said, “Cowboy, locate the General and work with him. Rouse the rest of the squad and get them up to speed. The clock’s ticking, let’s go boy.”

“Aye, sir,” Cowboy replied. He was thinner than the captain with lighter hair and darker eyes. They both wore sidearms and had the Remm assault rifle as standard issue. Cowboy slung the rifle over his shoulder as he ran off to carry out his orders.

“Okay then it’s just you and me, but remember we need this guy alive. Is that clear?” Stryder said, not waiting for a reply, for he was off and running down the corridor. After all, like the man had said, the clock was ticking.