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History Hackers




  OPERATION BATTLE BOOK IS UNDER ATTACK!

  In a mysterious case of high-tech body snatching, Battle Books have been secretly hacked into and robbed of their key historical figures. Great leaders from the past – generals, emperors, warriors, kings and queens – have been stolen!

  Omega Squad must find the culprits before the Battle Books are completely destroyed. But Professor Perdu is being watched by MANIC, and Alpha Agent One has gone underground.

  BA005, BA004 and BA009 can trust no one.

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  About Omega Squad History Hackers

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Also by Charlie Carter

  Copyright page

  To Albert Einstein, who knew that time is an illusion

  THE STORY SO FAR

  Professor Perdu and Omega Squad have discovered that Operation Battle Book is under serious attack by clandestine forces. What’s more, if Alpha Agent One is right, these attacks have been going on for some time.

  But who are these forces? What is their purpose? Why are they stealing from the professor’s Time and Energy bundles? The team’s encounter with Time Broker Horace Horologe has only confused them further, as has their journey into one of Horace’s Time Stores to save BA004 from the clutches of King Harold.

  All they know so far is that the forces behind the attacks are powerful. They threaten the very existence of Operation Battle Book, Professor Perdu’s top-secret research program that has amassed a wealth of invaluable data. That data cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands.

  Omega Squad must dig deeper even though Professor Perdu has warned: ‘If we go ahead with this, there will be no turning back.’

  ONE

  It was 3.51 am and all was well.

  Uber Trooper Experiment One stood as straight as an iron rod inside his BioCapsule, eyes shut, breathing perfect, heart humming at optimum level. The thick glass cylinder encasing him shimmered in the darkness, with occasional flashes and sparks as a green life-giving gas swirled around the super soldier. Meters trembled, tiny lights flickered and a bank of screens displayed data showing that all the necessary adjustments were being made to keep TEX in peak condition.

  As the clock turned over to 3.52 am, two dark figures in balaclavas entered the tiny room. Somehow by-passing Professor Perdu’s elaborate security system, they moved quickly, tapping into the Central Processing Plant that controlled and monitored TEX’s condition. Then, with a few deft movements, they shut down his Life Support Unit.

  The green gas quickly dissipated, the rejuvenating sparks ceased, and soon the super soldier was gasping for breath. His lids flickered for a moment and then shot open, fear flashing in his eyes. He was trapped, and he knew it. His unbreakable, life-giving capsule had turned into a coffin.

  The last thing he saw as he lost consciousness was two dark figures slipping out of the room.

  * * *

  Napoleon Augustus Smythe (aka Battle Agent 005) was in heaven. Early morning laserboarding. Nothing better for clearing a muddled head and exactly what he needed after yesterday’s mission.

  He still couldn’t believe they’d pulled through. BA004 had come within a millisecond of having his head cut off by King Harold. And then they all could’ve been trapped in the Battle of Hastings, which itself was caught inside a virtual capsule, which in turn was locked in the weird Time Store of the even weirder Horace Horologe. Napoleon shuddered. They could’ve been history.

  He took a deep breath, drawing in the crisp morning air. It was just before sunrise and he had the area to himself so he could let loose his board. He was in a back street with a few great curves to bank on, and one top hill for getting serious air, followed by a bit of max gravity cranking for real speed.

  But Napoleon was extra excited this morning because he had the means of taking his laserboard a whole quantum leap further.

  ‘We’re going to push this to the limit. Isn’t that right, Skin?’

  ‘Negative, BA005. This is highly irregular. I am not at all comfortable with the present situation. I am only meant to function within the parameters of Operation Battle Book.’

  That was sort of how Professor Perdu had put it yesterday when Napoleon, Maz and Winston went off after the mission still wearing their Simulation Skins. She was NOT pleased. It was strictly against the rules: gadgets and gear from the College for Independent Studies were not allowed in public.

  ‘Relax, Skin. I won’t tell Prof we did a little road test. It’s our secret.’

  ‘That is not quite the case, BA005.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘A black van has been following us. My Vibe Detector indicates trouble.’

  Napoleon used Skin’s rear vision on a drop-down Eyescreen to spy the vehicle. It was about half a kilometre behind.

  ‘Looks like the van that nearly rammed us yesterday near Horologe’s Time Store.’

  ‘Affirmative, BA005. It is precisely the same type, model and colour and, like yesterday’s vehicle, it has no registration plate. Its occupants also remain unidentifiable.’ Skin zoomed in but the windscreen was too dark to identify any faces at that distance.

  ‘Who could they be? MANIC thugs?’

  ‘Impossible to say with certainty at this juncture, 005. Nonetheless that is a distinct possibility. My Vibe Detector indicates that the occupants of the van are certainly less than likeable.’

  ‘In that case we’d better lose them.’

  Napoleon came to at the bottom of a big hill. He leaned forward to accelerate. But he wanted to really accelerate. ‘Give me Boot Boosters, Skin, all the way up the hill. And don’t stop at the top. I want to eagle it.’

  ‘If you insist, BA005.’

  A sudden burst of power sent Napoleon shooting up the hill like a rocket. At the top he took off, getting air as never before. He grabbed the deck with both hands, looked down and yee-haa’d hard. He was way above the streets, cruising over house tops.

  ‘Deadly, Skin! Best hit ever.’

  He looked back to check on the van. It was far behind.

  ‘They must be spewing, Skin.’

  ‘If by that you mean they are annoyed, even irate, then you are correct, BA005.’

  ‘Let’s leave them in our dust.’

  Napoleon thought-channelled Skin to add Hover­Vest to Boot Boosters, and was soon flying through the air. In no time at all his stalkers were kilometres behind.

  ‘That should do it, Skin,’ he said, and descended for a smooth landing in a park. ‘We won’t be seeing them again.’ He carved a wide arc and headed for home.

  He didn’t get far, though, before Skin gave a warning beep. Napoleon couldn’t believe his eyes. The black van was there again, keeping its distance, keeping him in its sight.

  ‘What’s going on? They must have the latest geo-sensitive tracking gear.’

  ‘Correct, 005. Analysis indicates that to be the case.’

  ‘Okay, then. If they want to meet, let’s meet.’ Napoleon said doing a 180-degree kick-turn. ‘In fact, let’s do it head to head.’ He leaned forward, pushing the laserboard to peak speed. ‘We’ll see how much nerve these thugs have really got.’

  Napoleon headed directly at the van on the straight stretch of road.

  ‘I’m trusting you, Skin. I want to
face off with these creeps to the very last second. But be ready to activate maximum Vertical Thrust if I call for it. I don’t want to be splatter matter on their front grill.’

  ‘Affirmative, BA005.’

  They were less than a hundred metres apart, boy versus van. With the laserboard at maximum speed Napoleon fixed his eyes on the dark windscreen. Behind it he could see the upper body outlines of driver and passenger. He focused on the driver with all his inner strength.

  Head throbbing, fists clenched, heart pumping like a thumping drum, he locked onto the shadowy shape as the van roared closer, closer, forcing down his fear, the terrifying possibility that he might be making a huge mistake.

  Suddenly he could see a face: a real face with a mouth, nose, eyes. Eyes! He stared into the eyes, and in that moment realised that they were the eyes of a killer – cold, cruel, unblinking.

  He’s not going to swerve. I’m road-kill!

  Napoleon didn’t even have time to scream. Before his thoughts were vocal, Skin activated maximum Vertical Thrust and Napoleon shot straight up, like a rocket, his laserboard clipping the roof of the van. He just managed to grab the deck as he hurtled upwards.

  ‘Ooowee, Skin. That was close.’

  ‘Correct, BA005. Calculations indicate we had a safety margin of precisely 0.023 of a second before collision was inevitable.’

  Napoleon took a few deep breaths. ‘Can we just hover for a minute while I lower my heartbeat?’

  ‘Certainly, BA005. Cardiac Relaxation software also activated.’

  As Napoleon re-adjusted, he glanced down. The van had skidded to a stop and the driver and passenger had climbed out. They were staring up at him.

  Skin automatically zoomed in on the figures. ‘Facial images recorded and filed.’

  Napoleon took in the faces as they streamed across his Eyescreen. Not that there was any need in the case of the driver. That was one face he wasn’t likely to forget.

  A second later his Battle Watch beeped with an urgent message from Professor Perdu:

  MASTER MISSION. LEVEL 7 RATING.

  PLUS DISTURBING COMPLICATIONS.

  REPORT AT ONCE.

  A Master Mission? YES, thought Napoleon. And about time. But what were these disturbing complications? Best get to HQ ASAP.

  As Napoleon swung around on his laserboard, he noticed that the black van had gone.

  TWO

  Amazon Diana Noble (aka Battle Agent 009) grabbed her notebook and jammed it into her backpack with a huff.

  Why did Four have to drive me home last night? That was so off. Okay, I was tired, exhausted even. But I’ve been that way before and I’ve always pulled through. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me.

  And it’s got nothing to do with the fact that he now knows where I live; it might do the spoilt little rich kid some good to see how the poor live. What I don’t like is him cruising around my hood in his flash wheels! That’s rubbing people’s noses in it – definitely not on.

  Everyone would’ve seen that limo pull up at my house last night. And they would’ve seen me being carried into the house like some princess. I was so zonked, Four’s driver must’ve lugged me in and put me in my bed. Four should never have let that happen. He should never have let any of it happen. With that, Battle Agent 009 slammed her front door shut and set off down the street.

  * * *

  Winston Garibaldi Hague (aka Battle Agent 004) had decided it was a perfect morning for sleeping in. He was rolling over to slip into another delicious dream just as Professor Perdu zapped him on his Battle Watch.

  The Prof had a mission ready. Here we go again, he thought.

  Winston leaped out of bed and tossed on some clothes. Soon he was walking across the garden to say goodbye to his mother. She was in her favourite place, near the weeping willow.

  ‘It’s somewhere I can think,’ she often said. ‘I could happily stay here all day.’

  And she probably would stay there for the day, judging by the papers scattered around her, most filled with intricate calculations. She had a problem to work out, and that was the closest thing to paradise as far as Winston’s mother was concerned.

  As he reached her, he saw that her breakfast was untouched. She was hunched over some figures, scribbling furiously.

  ‘You have to eat something,’ he said.

  ‘This little problem is proving very hard to crack,’ she muttered without even saying good morning.

  Winston laughed. The little problem she referred to was hardly little. She was trying to work out the weight of Dark Matter in the universe by calculating the combined mass of neutrinos, axions and neutra­linos – or something like that; Winston wasn’t quite sure.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ She frowned up at him.

  ‘You only started working on the problem yesterday, Mother. You’ll need months to even get near cracking that monster.’

  ‘Yes, but even so —’

  ‘And in the meantime you must eat.’ He pushed the plate in front of her. ‘Now!’

  ‘Oh very well then.’ She threw down her pencil. ‘You’ve broken my train of thought anyway.’

  A smile trickled across her face. He loved that smile. Even in her illness it had such warmth. It made him feel good. And yet at the same time it reminded him of how she used to be – always smiling, always laughing. A wave of sadness washed over him. If only there was a cure.

  ‘Now, now, Win,’ she said, sensing his mood as she nibbled on some toast. ‘Let’s not have any moping on such a beautiful morning. No long faces.’ She took his hand. Her fingers felt so feeble. ‘You’d best be off to college.’

  He leant down and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll still be here when you get back. You don’t get rid of me that easily.’ She smiled and pushed him away.

  * * *

  ‘I won’t let him get away with it.’

  BA009 was in Pendulum, the College for Independent Studies’ juice bar, with Alpha Agent One. She’d messaged him, wanting to discuss 004’s behaviour. Alpha One may have been only a few years older than them, but he took his role seriously as official leader and supervisor of Omega Squad, always trying to be there if they needed to talk. He was himself a very busy Time Trooper, and Nine knew that he had an urgent mission commitment right now. But he still made time for her.

  ‘Let me ask you something,’ he said after she’d voiced her complaint. ‘Have you thought about why 004 might have done this?’

  ‘I know why he did it. He was showing off. Look how rich I am – look how poor you are.’

  ‘Sorry to say so, Nine, but it sounds like this is more about your offended ego than Four behaving badly.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. Whose side are you on?’

  ‘It’s not a matter of sides. I can see that you’re upset. But I know Four and I know how highly he respects you. He would never intentionally offend you. He just doesn’t think things through on a personal scale.’

  ‘Yeah, well he’ll be thinking about it when I’m done with him.’

  Alpha One sighed. ‘I see. So what’s your plan?’

  ‘Simple. I’ll tear strips off him. It’ll make me feel heaps better.’

  ‘Maybe, but what about Omega Squad?’

  ‘What about Omega Squad? We seem to be losing the plot lately anyway. I’m beginning to think we’re not cut out to be a squad at all.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’

  ‘No, I don’t. But it really feels like we’re at the bottom of the heap. The prof is always finding fault with us.’

  ‘She’s under a lot of pressure. And that pressure is about to get much worse.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Alpha One glanced at his Battle Watch. ‘I don’t have time to explain now.’

  ‘That’s not fair. Just a hint, come on!’

  ‘Okay. You know how I said the other day that I thought someone was trying to take over Operation Battle Book?’

 
; ‘Yeah, and it looks like you were right.’

  ‘Well, I’m now pretty sure it’s even bigger than that. I reckon the run on OpBB is just part of a much bigger picture.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Sorry, but I really do have to go.’ Alpha One stood.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Solo mission,’ he whispered. ‘Prof doesn’t even know exactly where; it’s all too sensitive. But I’m hoping this one will shed real light on things. If it doesn’t, I don’t know what we’ll do.’ He turned and called to the android barista. ‘Thanks for the coffee, Lorenzo. Best ever, as usual.’

  ‘Glad to be of service,’ Lorenzo replied in his electronic voice, staring in the direction of the two Battle Agents with expressionless glass eyes. ‘Bon voyage.’

  As they left Pendulum, Alpha One stopped and turned to Nine. ‘I need to tell you something,’ he said, his voice edged with urgency. He drew nearer, fixing her with his dark, troubled eyes. ‘There is a chance I might not come back from this mission.’

  ‘What!?’ Nine gasped.

  ‘Every mission has that risk. We both know it.’

  ‘So why are you telling me now?’

  ‘Because there will be unfinished business, a lot of unfinished business if I don’t make it back. We’ve only just scratched the top of this scab; there’s a huge festering sore underneath that needs treatment before it spreads too far. And to my mind there’s no one better than Omega Squad to do that job. Do you understand?’

  ‘No, not really. You’re speaking in riddles. What business? What sore? What is this all about?’

  ‘I wish I had time to explain, but I don’t,’ said Alpha One. ‘It’s about freedom, our freedom and our rights.’ He gripped Nine by the shoulders. ‘Our future is at stake here, and our right to freedom. The right to choose our future could be in real danger. That’s what it’s all about.’

  Nine was silent. She had never seen Alpha One like this. ‘So forget about fighting with 004,’ said Alpha One. ‘There’s much more at stake. Don’t waste your energy chasing shadows. What’s ahead is a million times more important than any of that.’