Free Zero by J. S. Collyer Page B

of the wall. They froze. Hugo felt his knuckles protest as his crushed the grips and his muscles burn ed with the effort of keeping motionless. But the guard turned his back in their direction and leant against a tree, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and lighting one.
    Hugo let out a breath and looked up at Webb, but he was already moving. He pulled himself up until his arms were locked straight, head and torso above the top of the wall. Hugo swallowed but still no one shouted. He then watched as the commander brought up his right leg and got the toe of his boot under the sensor beams. Hugo glanced back, confirmed the guard was still smoking and looked back in time to see Webb hoist himself up. It happened so quick Hugo didn't catch exactly what the commander did but one minute he was straddling the sensor beams, balanced on the heels of his palms and the toes of his boots, then he'd dropped down out of sight. There was a soft clang as he dropped onto something metallic and then it was Hugo's turn.
    He pulled himself up, disengaged his grips one at a time, just as Webb had. When he pulled himself up, for a split second he saw the base laid out below, a sprawling stretch of tarmac, metal and concrete and then he was letting his body take over. He got a foot up, clenched his teeth as he almost tripped the sensor beam, then heaved, got one arm over and shifted his feet. His spine protested at the angle as he cast one glance down to take in the corrugated iron roof of an outbuilding ten feet below. He allowed himself one breath and jumped.
    It wasn't his best landing. His boots clanged onto the metal and he stumbled forward with a clatter onto his hands and knees. Ignoring the throbbing in his knees he shuffled over to the edge of the building and tumbled off. He hit the ground, rolled up and ducked behind a squat store house that shouldered up against the boundary wall. Webb was crouched in the narrow space. The ground was cracked and dusty and covered in cigarette butts. Webb was peering around the far corner but ducked back when Hugo came up behind him.
    “ I can see the security booth,” he murmured. Hugo shifted himself and Webb made room for him to look around the corner. The concrete booth was about fifty feet away, antennas and cameras sprouting from the roof but no windows facing their way. There was nothing between it and their hiding place but a couple of gutted hulks of four-by-four land transports, some rusted cargo crates and a stack of dented lifters.
    “ So, this infiltration training you had, Captain,” Webb said as Hugo ducked back behind cover. “Ever had to use it in the field?” Hugo shook his head. “Didn't think so,” Webb shifted his crouch and looked Hugo directly in the eye. “Until we get into that booth, we're gonna show up on the video feeds. Walk easily. Don't hunch but don't walk like you've got a rod up your ass either. Anyone spots us, they need to think we're tech crew coming back from a sly cigarette, okay?” Hugo nodded. “You know you haven't snapped at me in like an hour? It's making me nervous.”
    “ Get moving, Commander. We're on the clock.”
    “ That's better,” Webb said with a grin. Then he straightened, dusted off his knees and with an ease that Hugo couldn't quite believe, strode out from behind the store house, hands in pockets. Swallowing, Hugo followed, concentrating on keeping his face passive, his fists unclenched at his sides and his pace loose. It took a lot of effort not to look at the cameras.
    Webb paused to let him catch up then fell into step beside him. They moved around the skeleton of one of the cars and stepped out onto the open space behind the booth. Beyond was the motor pool. There were civilian cars and flyers, but also a rather convincing bank of black four-by-fours, paint gleaming and with the AI logo emblazoned on the side. As they got closer he could also see a bank of fighter-class flyers beyond them. The main building of the command centre