A Darker Shade Of Pale

[Keeper]

Black saw the road block ahead. It was positioned to encourage him to slow and turn either left or right at the junction where, no doubt, there would be another road block waiting.
He wasn’t much interested in their plans.
Twisting the throttle he gunned the bike towards the blockade.
By rights, the bike shouldn’t have been on Colicos, but Black wasn’t always too concerned about that kind of protocol.
He knew he had it covered in any case as he flicked a switch under the bike’s fuel tank.

[Keeper]

Karkarov watched the tag that indicated Black. The bike had just accelerated to one hundred and forty miles an hour.
“What is he doing?” Karkarov was astonished at the foolishness.
“I don’t know,” Donovan said absently as he watched the screen avidly.
One hundred meters – seventy – forty – the bike wasn’t slowing.

[Keeper]

Black knew that what he was about to do would no doubt get him into trouble with his superiors, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now.

At twenty meters out Black leapt upwards off the bike, the forward momentum carrying him on as his mind lifted him high over the road block.
The bike crashed into the blockade, imbedding itself into the side of a Corporate Force hummer.
Many faces stared in amazement as Black soared overhead, but the disbelief was short lived.
The bike exploded in an electric blue ball of energy that encompassed the entire blockade and some of the surrounding buildings.
It expanded further, disintegrating anything it touched.
Onlookers, who had gathered to see what the road block had been about, ran in panic, screaming as the ball got bigger still.
Then the blue turned to a blinding white and the ball of energy collapsed in on itself like a dying star in fast-forward.
The final act of the Obliteration Bomb was the sudden explosive and dramatic expelling of that condensed energy in the form of a shockwave that made the ground shake like an earthquake.
For half a kilometre from the epicentre, walls shook and cracked, windows shattered, tiles rattled on rooftops and underground pipes ruptured.
The bomb, which had contained the most powerful obliteration spell Black had ever come across left a crater almost one hundred meters in diameter.

[Keeper]

Karkarov and Donovan watched the screen in surprise, both astounded that their quarry wasn’t stopping. Surely he wasn’t going to try and ram his way through on a bike?
“Shit!” Donovan exclaimed as they saw the bike hit the Hum-Vee.
A second later the screen went a blinding white colour and everyone in the room gasped but remained staring in shocked disbelief.
“Get that image cleared up, Donovan instructed quietly not taking his eyes off the image.
It took several minutes for the technicians to re-boot the satellite’s infra-red cameras.
When a normal image returned to the screen it showed utter devastation.
“Zoom out!” Karkarov ordered frantically.
What they all saw made the gasp.
“Holy mother of Christ!” someone at the back of the room said, echoing the thoughts of every man and woman there.
“Was that a nuc?” Karkarov wondered aloud.
“Too small a blast radius,” Donovan absently pointed out.
As they watched, still somewhat aghast, small computer tags began to reappear on the screen. Some showed the positions of blockade’s 1 and 2, both within the blast radius and both highlighted in red to indicate loss of contact.
Blockade 3 was still there, although many of the squad was now moving in the direction of the blast. The computer indicated that it had failed to establish any known position for the tailing CFA vehicles.
Then a green tag icon appeared labelled ‘Target-A’.
“Target Alpha, re-acquired, Captain,” one technician announced.
“He’s alive? And moving?” Karkarov said in desperation. “How?”
No one answered.
“Send all of Blockade 3 in, take that guy down!” Donovan ordered.
Before the blockade 3 unit could react to the order however, the police arrived, their vehicles trapped on the other side of the crater from Black.
“Tell team three to hurry up. We want him before the cops get to him.” To Captain Donovan, who had just lost contact with a dozen men at Karkarov’s mansion and seen over forty troops eradicated before his very eyes, this was now personal.
“Target on the move,” someone announced.
As Karkarov watched the bright green blob that was Caleb Black began to move rapidly away from the scene.
“Has he got a car?” Karkarov asked the room.
“No, sir, he’s on foot.”
It didn’t make sense, Black was moving, according to the tag, at over thirty miles an hour.
“Target speed increasing,” a technician said, having noticed the oddity too.
Black was shooting through the streets now at incredible speed. Karkarov couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Your satellite line must be broken!” Karkarov stated. “This is impossible.”
Black was now picking his way through the streets and his course looked like that which a jet fighter might take if it were flying so low as to be between the buildings.

One hundred and seventy miles an hour, all pursuit left behind now. Speed still increasing.

“Two hundred… two-ten… two-twenty… two-forty…” came the call.

That was it, Black was now on a long straight road that led directly to Zenith Tower.
Karkarov and Donovan ran out of the security control room and across the open-plan office to the windows that faced down the road upon which Black was approaching.
It was gone midnight and despite the well-lit streets it was too dark to see anything.
Suddenly a shadow passed across their view, a momentary thing noticed only because it obscured the street lights behind it.
“What was that?” Karkarov asked.
“I have no idea, but I think I should get you out of here, sir.”
Donovan’s face was stern, the sort of expression that brooked no argument. The soldier did not want the loss of an influential person like Karkarov on his record.
“But he’s only one man!” Karkarov couldn’t help himself. He had to be in control of this situation, he just couldn’t conceive of not being so.
The truth was though, that he had somehow lost control and that thought frightened Boris Karkarov more than anything. People did as he wanted, they always had, it was foreign ground for the Russian to find things going so drastically off-plan. ]

But Boris still had a couple of aces up his sleeve.
Susan Wallace and Chrissie Simmons were waiting for his in his penthouse suite. They were the sword and shield he needed to fight this particular enemy.

“Mr Karkarov, my men are going ahead to get the helicopter ready.”
Boris conceded. “Very well, Captain, though I doubt Black will be able to penetrate our defences single handed.”

A CFA corporal rushed out of the security office. “Captain, we are breached and taking losses.”
“Which entrance?”
The corporal shook his head. “Fifty-eighth floor, sir.”
“Fifty-eight?” Donovan couldn’t comprehend. This couldn’t be just one man, they had to be assaulting from multiple directions at once. “Any reports from downstairs?”
“None sir, all quiet.”
All three men turned to the windows as something burning streaked passed.
“What the hell is going on?” Donovan said to no one in particular. “Corporal, get Mr Karkarov to the chopper immediately.”
“I need the women,” Karkarov said adamantly.
Donovan nodded. “Send someone from the roof to collect them. All other units to converge on the upper floors. Go!”

[Keeper]

Caleb Black had soared down 22nd Street towards Zenith Tower as fast as he could. He could easiliy have gone in a direct line over the skyscrapers, but the last thing he had wanted was any defence radars picking him up and thinking he was some sort of missile.
Once at Zenith he had flown up, clear of any floors with lights on and blasted through a window.
It had been floor fifty-seven.
Not knowing where Karkarov might be, Black had assumed the egotistical man would have his offices and residential suites at the top and so had started for the stairs.
One floor up he had encountered resistance.

Smoke was beginning to fill the office from the burning furniture, and people.
Alarms and flashing lights had gone off throughout the building now and the sprinklers had engaged on his floor.
Pistols in hand, Black made his way away from the fire, finding the elevators. Normally these would be shut down in a fire but he noticed one was already passed him, on its way up. Someone, probably security had overridden the shutdown order.
The other five elevators were below, though one was steadily climbing.

Black pulled the doors open revealing the shaft above the rising elevator.
Mentally reaching out he dragged desks, filing cabinets, chairs, partition screens, whatever was nearby, and dropped them down the shaft.
It took quite some time for the flotsam to his the small box, but when it did it was like a freight train hitting a small car.
A desk smashed through the lift’s roof like an axe blade, killing one guard and injuring another.
Then the next desk hit, rocking the elevator further and putting enormous tension on the already over-taught cables.
Then another desk, and another, and a filing cabinet crashed on top causing many of the bolts securing the cable to the top of the car to shear.
The elevator creaked, groaned then as yet more debris hit it the cable gave out and the elevator plummeted several floors before the emergency brakes eventually managed to halt the fall.
Those few still alive within the box were trapped and would take no further part in the day’s activities.
Black stepped out into the shaft and rose quickly towards the top.

[Keeper]

In the elevator on the way up, Boris Karkarov’s fear of his lack of control over the situation coalesced into anger.
Stepping from the lift he was met by three CFA soldiers who were escorting Chrissie and Susan.
Both women were wearing very little, as they had been instructed to do, but the sentimental soldiers had removed their own flak jackets and covered the women with them.
Karkarov glowered t Chrissie, about to unleash his anger but he stopped himself. No, the dumb bitch didn’t know what was going on, but the blond Wallace – she must.
Pushing past the soldiers Karkarov lashed out at Wallace, striking her in the mouth and splitting her already swollen lip.
She stumbled backwards onto the floor with a yelp, her mind fuzzy.
One of the soldiers made a move towards Karkarov but the corporal held him back. None of the men agreed with hitting women, but in this instance they had to bite their tongues.
“Stupid bitch!” Karkarov spat at Wallace. “What is going on? What is Black?”
Wallace glared at Karkarov as an insidious whisper in her mind told her to answer him, but she didn’t want to tell him what he wanted to know. “He’s coming for you, Boris. And that’s never a good thing,” she said it with venom.
Karkarov’s face screwed up in fury. “Shut up,” he screamed, “shut up… shut up!” He moved to strike her again even as his commands battered at Wallace’s willpower, and she would, of course, obey him without question.
It was enough for the corporal. “Mr Karkarov,” he shouted, “we don’t have time for this.”
Whirling around, Karkarov was about to tear into the soldier but he managed to regain his composure.
He nodded, “Bring them.”

[Keeper]

Black pulled open the lift doors at the top level and poked his head out quickly to take a look.
There was a single Zenith guard manning a door beyond the reception area.
Not nearly enough.
Emerging from the lift shaft Black had his hands raised in surrender.
The guard immediately called for him to halt and approached the unknown figure.
“Keep those hands high, buddy,” the guard said watching Black down the barrel of his gun.
Black remained motionless as he was told. He was relying in the fact that Zenith’s own security guards were just that. Some training in combat and weapons skills, but mainly here to ensure people stayed in the areas they were authorised to be in and keep the odd protester or journalist out. Killing didn’t come naturally to them.
“Don’t move, don’t you fucking move,” the guard hissed as he fumbled for his hand cuffs.
Close enough, Black thought.
Suddenly the man in the long black coat and dark glasses was gone, vanished in an instant.
“What the?” was all the man managed to say before someone grabbed him from behind in a choke hold.

Black held him until his body went limp, the lowered the unconscious man to the floor.

Beyond the ornate smoked glass door was a polished bright corridor with a rich blue carpet. The corridor was lined by numerous doors all of which led into large of small offices and a mixed gender bathroom.
At the end of the corridor were some stairs leading up.
Up?
Had he not just risen to the top of the lift shaft? So there were yet more floors above?
Black broke into a run, pistol poised and ready to shoot.

[Keeper]

A man appeared at a doorway and fell back against the frame as a silent bullet penetrated his skull, killing him outright.
As black passed he realised the man had been nothing more than a janitor, or cleaner, her on the late shifty.
The Infinity Agent didn’t let it bother him.
Approaching the stairs at just below a sprint black had to dive sideways through an open doorway to avoid a hail of bullets from two CFA troopers stationed at the top of the stairs.
Black winced as regained his feet aware of a large glass shard from the coffee table he’d just landed on, protruding from his shoulder.
Smiling perversely he pulled the six inch razor sharp sliver from his flesh. It floated out of his hands, moving out through the doorway and as he peered around the door frame, he sent the shard like an invisible arrow into the eye of the guard on the right.
The man screamed, his sub machinegun clattering down the stairs.
“Jesus Christ!” his companion cursed and unconsciously backed away from the man not understanding where the glass had come from.
Turning back to face the man they had shot at, the guard saw the business end of his colleagues weapon mere feet from him. Again, he didn’t understand.
It was his last vision.

At the top the stairs turned back on themselves leading up to a corridor that mirrored the one beneath. On this floor the offices were larger and plush and Black noticed Karkarov’s name on the biggest one of all.
Ignoring it, he moved swiftly on stopping at a plain door with a discreet tally that read ‘Electrical Switchboard’.

[Keeper]

The lights went out.
Captain Donovan had stopped with his hand poised over the grip of his pistol and his men followed suit, weapons ready.
“The damned fires out of control down there,” he mused quietly. “Okay, team let’s keep mov…”
His last word was cut off by the sound of gunfire from the floor below.
“You four, secure this location, the rest of you, with me,” Donovan instructed, marching quickly up the stairs before him.

[Keeper]

Darkness pervaded everything as the power went off leaving only the emergency lighting and the strobe effect of the flashing red fire alarms.

A shadow moved forwards in the darkness, utilising the natural cover that walls and doorways created.
Phut, phut!
A soldier fell.
Rat-a-tat-tat.
Bright-white strobing flashes emit from a MP-5’s barrel as another soldier fires into the darkness but it is he that falls, clutching his head in the worst agony he has ever felt.
Another wave of pain comes as the shadow passes and he falls, his brain in shut-down.

The shadow advanced quickly.