Crack in the Kill Code (AmpCore #2)

73 - Goodbye, New World

Home.

Not really, but the AmpCore academy would have to do. The place felt eerie when she walked in, some how emptier than she'd ever seen it. The newer students looked furtive and nervous as they followed fresh-faced instructors through the hallways.

Piper found herself wondering how many operatives had died during Osric's bloody campaign. People she recognised as classmates now wore the full black uniform of qualified field operatives, pressed into service to replenish the AmpCore ranks. She swallowed hard as they walked. If dozens of experienced operatives had died, what did that mean for the police, the security forces, and the poor bastards unlucky enough to be living in the middle of the warzone?

Body counts she decided she would rather not think about.

Part of her marvelled at how the corporate bureaucracy managed to trundle on unchecked despite everything. Statistical analysis, casualty lists, profit-loss projections, contingency funding deployments – all of it swung into action after the confirmation of Osric's death. Another part of her found it absolutely grotesque.

They made their way through the academy, follow their orders to report in to the academy's new head instructor, passing fresh guard posts and a veritable army of administrative staff flooding in and out of subsidiary offices.

Unlike Mattise, Senior Operative Corbin Hynes had installed himself in a sprawling office on the upper levels, something more suited to the status of AmpCore's chief administrator. No guards stood at the door, but she could see the shimmer of security sensors and a pair of camera studs embedded in the door frame.

Hynes' stocky bulk was tucked behind a huge crescent of a desk, where he swivelled lazily, his amplifier head in his left hand, his visor flashing and flickering with incoming and outgoing messages. With his lordship over AmpCore now made permanent, he'd wasted no time in decorating, with large glittering 3D murals of the Hadrian skyline dominating the walls, along with large, bold stamps of corporation logos.

His free hand rose in acknowledgement. Exchanging glances with her companions, Piper clasped her hands behind her back and waited.

Eventually Hynes made a sweep with his amplifier and the bank of holographic screens between them blinked out of existence. He stood up and tilted his neck sharply to one side. A crack echoed through the room, and Piper grimaced.

"Thank you for coming," Hynes said, his voice surprisingly serene given everything that had happened. He glided around the enormous desk to stand in front of them, folding his arms and leaning against it. "I think we all owe you a rather substantial thank you."

Toran snorted. "Damage is done."

"Yes, it is, but things can always be worse. Thanks in large part to you three, our revolutionary is dead, and we have teams hunting down whatever is left of his forces."

"What about Holly Lockley?" Odiye asked. "Any word?"
Hynes toned darkened a little. "I'm afraid not. Quite an escape artist, it seems." His beady brown eyes narrowed. "We'll find her eventually, but she is not my main concern."

"So what is?"

"Hadrian South," he said simply. "While it has not been acknowledged publicly, I think in this room we can all admit, we know that's where he came from. Evidently our predecessors have been very lax in keeping watch."

"No kidding," Piper snorted.

"I take it you've got a plan?" Toran asked.

"It's taking shape," Hynes tapped his amplifier thoughtfully against his arm as he spoke, "and I felt, given how involved you have been already, that the three of you are the logical choice."