just happened,” said Chopper.
“Let’s hope their programming is basic enough to let them simply accept it and carry on,” said Morph.
The androids remained motionless for a moment, then they split up. The first one walked over to the lorry and picked up the third of the wooden crates. The second android picked up the crate that the squaddies had just removed from the helicopter. Both of them carried the heavy loads as if they weighed no more than a box of breakfast cereal.
While the androids slid the crates into the cargo hold, Sabre darted back inside and the SWARM robots remained there, their stealth-mode upgrades keeping them safe from scandetection. Chopper transmitted an update to SWARM HQ and requested assistance for the soldiers.
“They’re unharmed,” said Sabre. “They’ll sleep for around twelve hours, and will remember nothing about what’s happened here.”
The androids climbed back into the cockpit. The helicopter’s rotors began to turn, faster and faster. Moments later it rose into the night sky and flew off at speed, heading north.
“Stage one complete,” said Chopper. “We’re following the movement of the crates. Now to begin stage two.”
CHAPTER 7
Roughly two hundred and seventy miles north of airfield 11-88, the dark blue car carrying Drake finally arrived at its destination: a tiny cottage on the windswept west coast of Scotland.
The car had rumbled along a stony path for almost a mile after leaving the main road, its headlights casting sharp pools of light. When it came to a stop, and the engine was switched off, the sudden silence woke Drake up. He grunted and blinked.
“At last,” he grumbled.
In the boot, Nero, Hercules and Widowquickly crawled back through the hole Hercules had made and dropped down on to the gravel beneath the car. They left just in time to avoid being seen by one of the androids, as he opened the boot to remove the holdall.
Drake looked around, flexing his legs. A full moon bathed the landscape in a cool, eerie glow. In front of the little cottage he could make out open countryside. From behind it came the steady rhythm of the sea washing up against the coastline. The rolling waters glittered in the moonlight and about two hundred metres offshore, the long, craggy hump of an island was just visible.
“Where the devil are we?” asked Drake.
The three androids said nothing. They led him over to the cottage and the SWARM robots followed. Hercules flew close to Drake’s feet and fired a tiny tracker egg at the bottom hem of his right trouser leg. The tracker attached, allowing the robots and SWARM HQ to keep tabs on Drake at all times.
“Just in case,” said Hercules.
“It seems there’s an error in our mappingdatabase,” said Nero. “GPS places us at a point on the west coast of Scotland looking out towards North Uist and the Isle of Harris. That small island out there isn’t included in the data.”
“Perhaps it only appears at low tide,” suggested Hercules, “and it’s underwater most of the time.”
One of the androids knocked loudly on the door of the cottage. It was answered by an old man wearing a tattered cardigan and a pair of slippers.
“Ah, nice to see you all,” he said.
“Mercury 6, Mercury 9 and Mercury 10 reporting,” said the android. He handed the old man the holdall.
“Come in, Mr Drake, come in,” smiled the old man. “I’m afraid my home is rather basic, but at least it’s comfortable.”
Cautiously, Drake stepped inside.
The old man spoke to the androids. “Off you trot, you three. Let Gold Leader know Mr Drake is safe and sound.” Without a word, they turned and walked back to the car.
The SWARM robots quickly scuttled inside the cottage before the door closed. They hid beneatha dusty old wooden cabinet that stood in the hallway.
“Where is Gold Leader?” demanded Drake. “I thought I was being taken to Silverclaw!”
“All in good time, Mr Drake,” smiled the old man. “No need for fuss.
“Let’s hope their programming is basic enough to let them simply accept it and carry on,” said Morph.
The androids remained motionless for a moment, then they split up. The first one walked over to the lorry and picked up the third of the wooden crates. The second android picked up the crate that the squaddies had just removed from the helicopter. Both of them carried the heavy loads as if they weighed no more than a box of breakfast cereal.
While the androids slid the crates into the cargo hold, Sabre darted back inside and the SWARM robots remained there, their stealth-mode upgrades keeping them safe from scandetection. Chopper transmitted an update to SWARM HQ and requested assistance for the soldiers.
“They’re unharmed,” said Sabre. “They’ll sleep for around twelve hours, and will remember nothing about what’s happened here.”
The androids climbed back into the cockpit. The helicopter’s rotors began to turn, faster and faster. Moments later it rose into the night sky and flew off at speed, heading north.
“Stage one complete,” said Chopper. “We’re following the movement of the crates. Now to begin stage two.”
CHAPTER 7
Roughly two hundred and seventy miles north of airfield 11-88, the dark blue car carrying Drake finally arrived at its destination: a tiny cottage on the windswept west coast of Scotland.
The car had rumbled along a stony path for almost a mile after leaving the main road, its headlights casting sharp pools of light. When it came to a stop, and the engine was switched off, the sudden silence woke Drake up. He grunted and blinked.
“At last,” he grumbled.
In the boot, Nero, Hercules and Widowquickly crawled back through the hole Hercules had made and dropped down on to the gravel beneath the car. They left just in time to avoid being seen by one of the androids, as he opened the boot to remove the holdall.
Drake looked around, flexing his legs. A full moon bathed the landscape in a cool, eerie glow. In front of the little cottage he could make out open countryside. From behind it came the steady rhythm of the sea washing up against the coastline. The rolling waters glittered in the moonlight and about two hundred metres offshore, the long, craggy hump of an island was just visible.
“Where the devil are we?” asked Drake.
The three androids said nothing. They led him over to the cottage and the SWARM robots followed. Hercules flew close to Drake’s feet and fired a tiny tracker egg at the bottom hem of his right trouser leg. The tracker attached, allowing the robots and SWARM HQ to keep tabs on Drake at all times.
“Just in case,” said Hercules.
“It seems there’s an error in our mappingdatabase,” said Nero. “GPS places us at a point on the west coast of Scotland looking out towards North Uist and the Isle of Harris. That small island out there isn’t included in the data.”
“Perhaps it only appears at low tide,” suggested Hercules, “and it’s underwater most of the time.”
One of the androids knocked loudly on the door of the cottage. It was answered by an old man wearing a tattered cardigan and a pair of slippers.
“Ah, nice to see you all,” he said.
“Mercury 6, Mercury 9 and Mercury 10 reporting,” said the android. He handed the old man the holdall.
“Come in, Mr Drake, come in,” smiled the old man. “I’m afraid my home is rather basic, but at least it’s comfortable.”
Cautiously, Drake stepped inside.
The old man spoke to the androids. “Off you trot, you three. Let Gold Leader know Mr Drake is safe and sound.” Without a word, they turned and walked back to the car.
The SWARM robots quickly scuttled inside the cottage before the door closed. They hid beneatha dusty old wooden cabinet that stood in the hallway.
“Where is Gold Leader?” demanded Drake. “I thought I was being taken to Silverclaw!”
“All in good time, Mr Drake,” smiled the old man. “No need for fuss.
Similar Books
