31
Command & Control
I hit the stairs up to Command and Control. The guard from earlier was still on the door. I swiped the card with a nervy hand and it flashed green. He smiled at me this time. Not a clue. Amazing. I could breeze past armed guards into Club Don’t Exist with nothing more than a man’s key-card and another girl’s personnel badge. Yet it was almost impossible to get served in a Manchester pub.
Command and Control was noisy with cross-chatter. Buzzcut paced around, ranting into a headset, his eyes glued to the big screens.
“I don’t care what’s happening down there,” he said. “We’re past the point of no return, you get it? We have to release the energetic mass or we’ll fry the whole damn SW … Listen. You said you’ve got the toxin under control, right? Then unless it’s stil
