Blood of the Ancient - The Helix Rebellion saga #1

Chapter 14

Willard turned inconspicuously into the huge car park belonging to the power plant, luckily it was all but empty this time of night. The gigantic reactor hummed, the heavy resonance obvious in the air. The blacked-out van had completed a full circuit of the compound, checking for further security. Only one outdoor guard had been on patrol tonight. He was now sleeping in the back of the van, an anaesthetic dart protruding from his neck - courtesy of Oscar.

"I really thought there'd be more of them." Willard said.

"Nope, there's only ever one out here at this time of night," replied Symon. "I've been watching all month."

"Remember, this is covert. In and out." The moonlight glinted off Ezra's mirrored sunglasses. His huge Landana frame filled both front-passenger seats adjacent to Willard. A hellish story of ink unfolded on muscular arms, and his mutton-chop beard was rough and ragged.

"I'll keep the van running, boss." Willard was much younger than the others, but showed no fear behind the wheel. He'd helped Ezra and Symon evade security forces on several occasions. During their heist of Malikan Central Bank, Oscar had incapacitated fifteen security guards, and the team made off with over five thousand gold coins. Ezra kindly donated a large amount to the poor and homeless living in the slums of the north - a gesture he carried out during every successful hijack of Malikan riches.

Oscar, on the other hand, had only worked with Ezra for a couple of years. A spirited Wall Island soldier, serving as a sniper for his country when the Malikan Army invaded. His dark hair was short and tidy, with a maintained handlebar and chin puff moustache. His slim, athletic build was the result of a gruelling training regime from his time in the military. His friends and family were killed during the massacre, which saw Wall Island overthrown, and the Malikan Government assuming control of their land. He'd sworn vengeance, and wouldn't rest until Malik Corporation ceased to exist.

"I have thirty darts warmed up and ready to play," he said, waving his rifle. "I'll be very disappointed if there's no more Malikai inside." Oscar's Blaize handgun was holstered on his belt in case of emergencies, his trusty AngelEye was only fitted with tranquilizer darts. Ezra's no killing rule stood firm.

"Hopefully my route won't lead us to security."

"Yeah, whatever." Oscar rolled his eyes at Symon, AngelEye was his best friend - and they loved to play.

"We gain access to the control room via a corridor that bypasses the containment vessel. It's not a primary walkway, so hopefully the only resistance we'll come up against is higher temperatures." Symon studied his electronic device, which showed a clear blueprint of the layout on the screen. Zooming in and out, he quickly determined the best route if their mission was compromised.

"What area will be affected? I mean, after we destroy the generator." Rhea asked from behind.

"Around two hundred square-kilometres," Ezra replied. "Until auxiliary back-up kicks in, if it ever does."

Rhea looked shocked, she hadn't expected one reactor to supply such a vast area. Her long red hair was tied back, twisted into a pleated tail, and a pale-blue necklace sparkled as it reflected the illumination of the passing lights. Her tight clothing revealed a perfect, petite shape. She was a sweet girl with a pretty face, giving her enemy a false sense of security. Her speed of attack was deadly.

"Ok, there's the containment building."

"Follow to the north side please." Symon pointed to a far building.

"You got it." Willard followed the road around, and stopped adjacent to the ugly reactor building.

"Mask up," Ezra ordered. "In and out." He watched his team pull on black face-masks, then removed his glasses, and pulled on his own. He clawed at his itchy beard. "Logan, bring the case."