Zero Hour, Part 4 of 4 by Will Hill

Author:Will Hill [Will Hill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-04-25T04:00:00+00:00

“I don’t know about you,” said Jamie Carpenter, “but I’m starting to feel a lot better about this.”

He was standing on the tarmac of the airport’s southern runway, looking towards a pair of huge hangars that stood open to the night air. They were the only centres of light for more than a mile in any direction; the French government had shut down the airport under the cover story of a mercury contamination of the facility’s water supply, allowing it to be used as the rallying post for what was now officially known as the Combined Operational Force. With the FTB and the SPC to the north and Blacklight to the west, there had never been a need for a supernatural Department in France, but Jamie was sure that Cal Holmwood and the other Directors were extremely grateful for the French government’s assistance; the airport was barely forty minutes’ flying time south-east of Château Dauncy.

The hangars that had caught Jamie’s attention were part of the complex of buildings that housed SkyBus, the vast aeroplane manufacturer which had been founded in this quiet suburb of southern France. The airport was owned by them, and they in turn were partly owned by the French government, which had made the temporary shutdown relatively straightforward. The buildings were vast, far larger than the maintenance hangars where Blacklight’s fleet of helicopters were stored and maintained, bigger even than the main hangar, beneath which the Mina II was housed and where Jamie and the rest of the Blacklight Operators had assembled barely an hour earlier. They had been designed to accommodate the most modern passenger planes, but one of them was now home to something even bigger: a Russian An-224 transport.

The plane, one of the largest ever to take to the skies, squatted in the middle of the huge space, its wings almost reaching the distant walls, its nose cone raised, revealing the cavernous space within. The plane had been accompanied on its slow flight down from Polyarny by two Mi-26 transport helicopters. The Russian choppers were parked outside the hangar beside four SA 330 Pumas provided by the French Air Force, surrounded by maintenance crew and security personnel.

The second hangar contained a C-130 Hercules that had lumbered its way up from South Africa, and four CH-53 Sea Stallions that had made the short journey down from the Schwartzhaus. In comparison to the huge array of military hardware, the sea of black figures swarming in front of the hangars seemed tiny. But to Jamie, who had been on his way back from Paris when the Loop was attacked by Valeri Rusmanov, it was by far the largest show of Departmental strength he had ever laid eyes on. Including the Blacklight contingent, who were rapidly disembarking from the helicopters that had carried them across the English Channel, there were more than three hundred Operators and support staff waiting to depart for their target location.

“I know what you mean,” said Larissa. “It looks like the cavalry has arrived.”

“Except for the Americans,” said Jamie, peering around at the darkened airport.

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