Project Venom (8 page)

Hernandez withdrew his hand. In it was a fully loaded gun.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SWARM’s Agent K was at the controls of a stealth fighter jet, designed to be invisible to radar, infrared and other detection systems. The fighter’s dark, angular shape swooped through the cloud cover five hundred metres behind Air Weihan Flight AW92.

Agent K pulled the fighter up to within twenty metres of the huge airliner, flying precisely underneath its tail. A complex display of information shone across the visor of her flight helmet. It blinked as she activated a control beside her right shoulder, and a target sight appeared in
the centre of her vision.

“Ready to deploy G-Launch,” she said into the microphone suspended in front of her.

“Fire when ready,” said Queen Bee at SWARM headquarters.

Agent K flipped open a cover to reveal a tiny joystick. She clicked it and it bleeped into life. On the nose of the fighter, a squat, barrel-like nozzle suddenly appeared. The target sights on Agent K’s helmet display shifted as she moved the joystick with her thumb.

She took careful aim, then tapped the end of the joystick. The nozzle fired a large, dark blue ball. With a wet thump, it hit the closed bay doors on the underbelly of the 767, behind which were tucked the aircraft’s landing gear. The ball stuck fast to the metal skin of the plane, warped by the impact into an upside-down dome shape.

“Queen Bee to SWARM, get moving.”

“We’re live, Queen Bee,” signalled Chopper the dragonfly. “Sensors and power levels are at maximum.”

Chopper, Widow, Hercules, Sabre and Sirena
were all contained inside the blue blob.

“Hercules, get us inside,” said Chopper.

The stag beetle cut into the plane’s metal skin, using his serrated claw. Within seconds he’d made a neat, exact circular hole, 1.2 centimetres in diameter.

“The gel around us will dissolve in less than five minutes,” said Chopper. “Let’s go.”

The five micro-robots climbed through the tiny hole one by one.

“We’ll work our way through the electrical and air circulation systems. Come in, Morph and Nero, what is your current status?”

“Online! As humans would say, it’s great to hear from you!” signalled Morph from the First Class section. “I’m concealed in the overhead lockers. Nero has been moved to the cabin crew’s area, between First and Business Class, and placed in a sealed plastic tub. He’s being watched and cannot act. Vinski is still in her seat. Hernandez is now returning from the toilet cubicle. Wait, scanning… He has a hand gun in an inside pocket, fully loaded, database check identifies it as a Smith & Wesson Model 645.”

Hernandez walked back to his seat with an arrogant swagger. He sat down and gave Vinski a brief smile.

“If we’re left alone,” he whispered, “then I’ll put our insurance back where I found it before we land. Otherwise, get ready. We’ll aim to divert this plane halfway across Europe, get it to fly at low altitude, then escape using the emergency parachutes from our luggage in the cargo hold. We can lay low until our people get to us.”

Vinski gave him a curt nod, but Morph’s sensors could tell she was even more agitated than he was. Her feet patted nervously against the floor.

Now that Nero had been caught, only Hernandez and Vinski were on the alert. Nobody noticed five miniature robots sneak into the cabin. Chopper, Hercules and Sabre got in through the same ventilation ducts that Nero had used. Widow and Sirena emerged from an electrical conduit behind a microwave oven in the cabin crew’s area.

“Do we know the location of the Venom yet?” signalled Chopper.

“Negative,” said Morph.

“We must proceed with extreme caution until we know where the Venom is,” said Chopper to the SWARM. “The lives of millions of people could be at stake. Sirena, see if you can get close enough to Vinski for a high-res scan.”

“Logged,” said Sirena.

“Nero, are you OK?” said Chopper.

The robot scorpion looked around the see-through plastic lunch box in which he was being held. “I think I understand the human concept of embarrassment,” he said. He scuttled back and forth for a few moments, to divert the attention of the two nearby flight attendants. Widow zipped behind them on a web line, and Sirena fluttered past, while they were wrinkling their noses at Nero.

“Eugh, horrible thing, isn’t it?”

“If only I had feelings, they’d be hurt,” transmitted Nero.

Meanwhile, Hernandez had reclined his seat again. He handed Vinski a magazine.

“Act normal,” he whispered. “I think the fuss may be over.”

Vinski looked over his shoulder. The female flight attendant who’d first gone looking for Nero was approaching them. “No, it isn’t,” she whispered.

“Excuse me, madam,” smiled the flight attendant. “I just wanted to let you know that the authorities at Heathrow will need a quick word with you upon our arrival.”

“Why?” said Vinski, her nerves showing in her voice.

“Oh, it’s just routine, nothing to worry about. But if something like that scorpion turns up on a flight, we have to notify them. The UK has very strict quarantine regulations. The scorpion’s species will have to be identified. They’ll just want to ask you about where you went in China, that sort of thing. Completely routine.”

“That won’t be possible,” said Hernandez. “We have an urgent appointment in London.”

“It will only take a few minutes, sir, I’m sure,” smiled the flight attendant. “Just routine.”

“We had nothing to do with that creature
being on this aircraft,” said Hernandez. “Perhaps I should complain to the airline about insect infestation?”

“There’s no need to adopt that tone, sir,” said the flight attendant, suddenly no longer smiling. “These regulations are for the benefit of everyone. I can involve Airport Security if you’d rather, sir. The scorpion was in the lady’s footwear, and I know it’s unlikely that—”

Her words ended in a gasp. The click of the gun’s safety catch sounded centimetres from her nose.

“Shut up,” said Hernandez quietly.

He jumped to his feet and grabbed her by the collar of her uniform. The other passengers suddenly noticed what was going on.

The cabin was filled with screams. Several passengers stood up.

Hernandez levelled the gun at them. “Out to the back! All of you! This aircraft is under the control of the East Balboan Liberation Squad! If anyone presses the alarm, our prisoner dies!”

The passenger who’d trapped Nero turned to the others. “He’s bluffing! You can’t get a real
gun on a plane!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Hernandez aimed the gun at the passenger’s leg and fired. The bullet skimmed the back of the man’s calf. He yelled in pain and dropped to the floor.

More screams filled the air. Confusion broke out. The passengers scrambled in their panic to get away. The injured man followed, limping and swearing, a patch of blood showing on his trousers.

Vinski joined Hernandez at the front of the First Class section. Her boots were back on. Her fingers fluttered nervously at the side of her head, tapping at her swirl of hair.

Meanwhile, Chopper calmly signalled the SWARM. “Switch to attack mode. Prepare to neutralize targets.”

“The Venom!” said Morph suddenly. “It’s hidden inside Vinski’s hair!”

“You’ve scanned it?” said Chopper.

“No. No time to explain now,” said Morph.

“Hercules, retrieve it immediately!”

Hercules flew at top speed along the side of the cabin, swinging around to approach Vinski
from the side.

Hernandez pressed the gun to the flight attendant’s head. “We’re going on a detour,” he hissed.

Sabre the mosquito buzzed close to the ceiling. “I’ll sting both terrorists now!”

“Wait,” said Chopper. “Not while that human female is in danger. We cannot risk her being harmed. Remember Queen Bee’s orders.”

Hernandez manhandled the flight attendant over to the entrance to the flight deck. He pressed the barrel of the gun against her cheekbone. “Enter your code. Get us inside.”

Hercules dived into Vinski’s tightly wound ball of hair, his claw set to fire a low-powered laser beam. The terrorist was too focused on Hernandez and the flight attendant to notice the micro-robot.

“There’s a network of wires in here,” signalled Hercules. He quickly sliced through a series of looped cords. “Her real hair is being used to cover it. It’s designed to deflect scans or detection beams, rather like Agent K’s fighter jet deflects radar. Very impressive. No wonder we couldn’t
find it.” He crawled through the gap he’d cut.

“My sensors have detected the Venom!” said Sirena. “Now that Hercules has disrupted the network around it, I can see it’s contained in a small black tube, similar to the hollow finger Seede used.”

Hernandez gave the flight attendant a shake. “The code!”

“Morph,” signalled Chopper, “warn the pilots.”

“I’m already on my way,” said Morph the centipede. He was at the lower edge of the flight-deck door. He flattened his flexible exoskeleton down to less than a millimetre and wriggled through the door’s curved rubber seals.

Hernandez whispered to the flight attendant. “You have to the count of five, and then you’re dead… One…”

Morph emerged on to the flight deck. He was now inside the physical and electronic barriers which prevented remote takeovers of the aircraft’s controls. Immediately, he transmitted a message to the earphones of the pilot and co-pilot.

“Two…” said Hernandez.

“This is a representative of the British secret
service. Your flight attendant is being held hostage by terrorists, and you must not open the door. Please continue on to London Heathrow as planned. The situation will be under control soon.”

“Three…”

“Where the devil is that coming from?” spluttered the pilot.

“Inside this cockpit, according to the readout,” said the co-pilot.

“Don’t be ridiculous, man, there’s only you and me in here!”

Meanwhile, Hercules flew clear of Vinski, the black tube containing the Venom clutched tightly beneath him. “Target acquired,” he said.

“Four…”

Hernandez levelled the gun against the flight attendant’s temple. In a split second, Chopper calculated the odds of eighteen different courses of action. He opted for a simple, direct approach to the problem.

The dragonfly shot across the cabin, increasing the speed of his wings so that they produced a loud, droning buzz. He dived at Hernandez.
The terrorist got a flashing glimpse of something coming at him. He started in surprise.

Chopper sent an overload command to his eyes. A dazzling flare of light suddenly burst less than a metre from Hernandez’s face. The terrorist cried out in alarm, his vision suddenly a blank wash of white. He almost dropped the gun.

As Vinski stepped forward to grab the weapon, Sabre the mosquito darted at her. Before she could reach for the gun, he injected a microscopic pellet into her neck.

She jerked back, a wild expression on her face. Hernandez staggered, still blinded.

The flight attendant seized her chance. She knocked the gun out of Hernandez’s hand, then ran out of the First Class section, the same way the passengers had gone.

Vinski stood like a statue for a moment, then toppled over. “Freezer sting delivered,” said Sabre.

Hernandez, blinking and shaking his head, let out a yell of anger and scooped up the gun. He began to follow the flight attendant. Widow the spider leaped up from the floor. She fired a steel-strength web around the terrorist’s hand, pulling
it tight as she arced over his head. The gun fired, the bullet hitting one of the window seats and causing an explosion of stuffing.

Widow swung rapidly around her prey, binding him tighter and tighter from shoulders to ankles. He struggled uselessly, finally losing his balance and falling into a squirming heap beside the motionless Vinski.

“Venom recovered. Terrorists neutralized,” said Chopper calmly. “Time for us to leave.”

The SWARM robots quickly disarmed the fallen gun, and vanished from the scene. Nero was alone in the cabin crew’s area, now that the crew had joined the passengers hiding in the Economy Class section. He flipped the lid off the plastic lunch box he was trapped in, and followed them.