Free DeathWeb (Fox Meridian Book 3) by Niall Teasdale Page A

had thanks to Marshall…’
    ‘That,’ Jackson said, ‘is an all-electromagnetic feed. Gauss rifle mounted over an electromagnetic grenade launcher. It won’t jam.’
    Fox smiled at him. ‘I know. Mildly paranoid, remember?’ Slapping the magazine back in place, she walked to the rear cabin door and punched the pair of buttons which unsealed and opened it. And the heat rolled in and hit them like a wall. ‘I hope everyone remembered their antiperspirant.’
    ‘Unfortunately, this aircraft doesn’t have a shower,’ Jackson commented. ‘However, the atmospheric analysis is clear, dust levels are low.’
    Fox put on an anti-glare visor and started out of the hatch as the steps locked in place. She felt sweat break out almost immediately under the harsh glare of the sun, but she had selected a material for her bodysuit which drew fluid away from her skin and had dispensed with a jacket. ‘Make sure your arms are covered,’ she said before starting down to the concrete of the landing strip.
    As with MarTech East Africa, the Dallas facility had had its own landing strip, a perimeter wall, and a fence surrounding both the bunker and the airfield. From the looks of it, a tornado, probably several of them, had torn the fence apart in the past three years, but the wall looked to be standing. On the other hand, Fox could see a gate to the east which was open or down so they had minimal security. The best she could hope for was that it limited where anyone might come from if their arrival had been noticed.
    If they had been noticed, it would likely be by people living in the city, forty klicks to the south-west. The bunker was not actually in Dallas, but outside the major urban area, set between the Ray Hubbard and Lavon lakes, or what was left of them. The two big bodies of water were at a higher level now than they would be in a few weeks. Spring rains had washed in, bringing more silt in with them, further clogging the rivers, but deepening the sluggish, algae-laden waters.
    Using the enhancement features on her visor, Fox could see the buildings of the city in more detail. Nothing much had changed, but one of the taller structures had given up fighting and collapsed. She knew there were people out there: anarchist and survivalist groups fitted out with biomods to survive the harsh conditions. They found it easier to handle the tornados and storms when they could have a solid roof over their heads and there were structures in the city which would provide good cover, if you avoided the ones which might fall on you.
    Fox checked behind her and found Jackson and Terri carrying a box between them down the steps. ‘You two okay with that?’
    ‘It’s not heavy,’ Jackson replied, ‘and I’d prefer you had your hands free for that rifle.’
    ‘Paranoia, Jackson?’ Fox flashed him a grin.
    ‘I believe it’s only paranoia if they aren’t out to get you.’
    ‘Reasonable.’ Fox started off across the grass-broken concrete.
    Like in Africa, the Dallas bunker had been a low, concrete structure on the surface with extensive underground facilities. Here the ‘low and smooth’ build had been particularly important because of the danger of high winds. Here the communications antennae had been housed inside a structural plastic shell, but it and the equipment it had protected were all gone now. Fox doubted the winds could have shattered the dome, which probably meant that it had been cracked by some large chunk of wind-blown debris before being ripped open. Luckily, the tornados tended to stick to early evening, when the temperature was even higher, so arriving before midday was fairly safe.
    Unlike Africa, large sections of the structures here had collapsed in. Toward the middle of the buildings, there was a pit maybe three or four metres deep and now filling up with silt. It marked the main elevator shafts which had collapsed in on themselves as the bombs Fox had planted had torn the underground base apart. The main