Capital Falling Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Winkless, Lance

  Checking around the lounge area as I go, I find it hard to compute where I actually am, it feels so unreal to me. I recognise the area, of course, as I’ve worked in it long enough. My office is just along from me, but the feeling I get is that this place is different now and I suppose it is; I am different too, everything is different, and the world has been turned on its head.

  I press on, pushing those bloody thoughts out of my head. They could drive you mad, but now is not the time to try to quantify the meaning of life!

  The dull banging and screeching that we could hear in the office is louder and clearer out here and the sounds seem crisper. I put it down to the fact that the office walls are dampening the noise as I get to the end of Sir Malcolm’s office and to the barricade; I see that isn’t the only reason, however. Above the piled-up boxes and furniture, on top of the filing cabinets that we used for the barricade, yesterday, it’s hard to see in the darkness but the stairwell door is definitely cracked open a small amount. I’m shocked to see it but I’m certain it is open; the Rabids must have broken the door frame because it was locked. It looks like the only thing that saved us yesterday was Stacey suggesting we make an arch with the filing cabinets from the door to the wall. I look again at the barricade and the filing cabinets and it dawns on me that they have moved, only slightly but they have definitely moved, and I wouldn’t trust it to hold back another attack.

  Time to see how the safe is coming along, I think urgently to myself, but just as I’m about to leave, something in the stairwell hits the door and it bangs into the first filing cabinet, which in turn shifts the rest of them slightly. If confirmation was needed that the barricade could not be trusted, that was it; if the Rabids knew we were down here, they would be attacking that door no doubt and probably getting through it.

  Getting back inside the office, I have a new apprehension about this mission. Kim helps me put the desk back against the door, a lame fortification at best, me hushing him as we go, nervous to make any noise. I then get him over to the rest of the team by the safe, so that I can talk to them quietly.

  “We have got to keep the noise to an absolute minimum; the stairwell door is cracked open and it won’t hold another attack, understood?” I whisper and they all nod. “How is it progressing, Dixon?”

  “On track. I am just connecting the safe to the computer to override its lock,” he whispers back.

  I give him a thumbs up and then leave him to it, taking up a covering position with Kim.

  “Dan, report, over,” I say as quietly as I can into my headset.

  “Unchanged; they are trying to break through the door. I think it’s the noise from the helicopters agitating them, over.”

  “Received, I think we are close here, if it works, over and out.”

  “Received,” Dan confirms his understanding.

  I cut the conversation to a minimum; seeing the cracked door has made me seriously edgy to even talk, we are in a very precarious position, I’ve got to hold it together. The other members of my team seem to be pretty calm and getting on with their jobs as if it’s just another day in the office. I remember that calmness and confidence from when I was a fully-fledged Special Forces Operative, living for the buzz of a mission, craving the adrenaline rush and camaraderie with my brothers in arms, when nothing else mattered. Those days are long gone for me, I am now a fully-fledged single father and my buzz comes from my children, Josh and Emily. I was late finding that buzz, too late, especially with Josh. I missed so much of his childhood, something I will always regret.

  On the other hand, perhaps their calmness comes partly out of ignorance, as I’m the only member of my team that has actually had contact with these creatures, face to evil face, contact. On three or four occasions yesterday, I scraped through close calls with these Rabids, barely surviving, I know full well how formidable they are, and these men don’t. They haven’t come up against them, so they can’t, no matter how many times they have been briefed and warned. I doubt they even believe an unarmed enemy poses any real threat to their skills and firepower; ignorance really is bliss and I hope it stays that way for all our sakes.

  There is a lull in proceedings as we wait to see if Dixon manages to crack the safe’s lock and I decide to join Kim covering the office door, my nervousness getting the better of me. The rain is starting to come down harder, bigger drops falling through the hole in the roof and in faster and faster succession. Luckily it is somehow keeping away from where Dixon is working. The angle at which it comes through the hole means it hits the sideboard and the floor in front of it. The sideboard must be sitting at a slight slope because the water collected on it runs down along the top of the sideboard to the opposite end of where the safe is, and flows down the side onto the floor.

  Kim glances over to where Dixon is working and says something under his breath that I don’t quite catch; maybe I’m not the only one whose nerves are starting to fray or is he just picking up on my uneasiness? I to glance over. I can’t help it, hoping I see the safe door swing open, but it doesn’t. Are we going to have to start cutting away at the bloody thing with the plasma? I fucking hope not? The last thing we need now is noise, sparks, flashing light and more time.

  My head turns back towards my covering position, still trying to ignore the door behind Dixon, the door to Sir Malcolm’s private bathroom where he sits on his toilet with his brains splattered over the tiled wall…I can’t deal with thinking about that right now. As my head comes around, a bright flash of white light washes through the orange light of the glowsticks and for a second, I think they have decided to power up the plasma to start cutting into the safe. I’m about to go look around to see and to ask Dixon if he has given up with his solution, then realisation hits me before I do. However, the flash of light didn’t emanate from over there, it came from above from the hole in the ceiling. A dull rumble of thunder reverberates over the noise of rain and Rabids banging on the door above a few seconds later, to confirm that the flash was lightning. The delay in the rumble tells me it is still some distance off at the moment, but I don’t like it, not one bit.

  Chapter 15

  Kim looks at me with a face that says, ‘oh shit’, straight after the thunder passes. And I suspect I have the same look on my face, as it looks like the storm is going to be on us at any time. Above us, the hammering on the rooftop door increases, almost giving the impression the thunder hasn’t stopped, the new noise adding fuel to the fire for the Rabids trapped behind it and their desperation to break through and find new prey.

  “Boss, receiving, over?” Dan's voice sounds through my headset, making me jump.

  “Receiving, over,” I say as I look over to Sergeant Dixon in anticipation of his question.

  “How much longer? The storm is inbound, we have multiple lightning strikes in the East of the city and that local one has set the Rabids off. I don’t trust this door, we need to vacate A-SAP, over,” Dan says urgently.

  Sergeant Dixon looks over to me knowing I will want an answer for Dan, and he indicates five more minutes which I assume is until he knows if his method is going to work.

  “Received, we are looking at five minutes, over.” I decide to give Dan an honest but vague answer, not wanting to tell him it could be longer, a lot longer.

  “I am not sure we have any longer than that, if that, over.” Dan’s voice falters.

  “Understood, hold your position at all costs, we cannot afford to leave here until the safe is open,” I tell Dan sternly, knowing the rest of his team on the roof will also be listening.

  “Understood, Boss, over and out,”

  Even if there is only an outside chance this goddamn safe has anything that will help cure this infection locked inside, we have got to retrieve it, no matter the cost to us few men. Countless lives could be saved in London alone and who knows, countless Rabids could be cured, if that is in any way possible?

  Dixon is tapping feverishly at the keyboard contained inside the briefcase that is on the floo
r in front of Sir Malcolm’s safe, wires crossing the divide between the two carries the code that will hopefully override the lock. Concentration is etched on his face, that is bathed in a blueish light from the screen he is staring at. Dixon’s eyes dart up from the screen, over to the safe occasionally, and I follow them when they do, in anticipation that the safe door is going to pop open. But the flipping thing doesn’t, not yet.

  “Captain Richards to transport; receiving, over?”

  “Receiving, over,” Buck says.

  “Status report, over.”

  “We are in a holding pattern, ready to give covering fire or to land and Evac, over,” Buck tells me.

  “Good, hopefully, Evac any minute. Stay ready,” I tell him.

  “Received, standing by, over and out.”

  Where else would the two Lynx be, I chastise myself? I just couldn’t help checking that they were standing by. We have got to get out of here as soon as that safe opens.

  Another flash of white light fills the office for an instant, and time seems to stand still as we all wait for the inevitable rumble of thunder that will follow, our faces turned up to the hole above and sky beyond in alarm. I am conscious that Sergeant Dixon is the exception. He hasn’t allowed the flash of lightning to break his concentration or distract him from his task, his eyes don’t leave the screen, determined to succeed.

  I barely get to the count of one before the thunder hits and it isn’t a rumble; the thunder is an almighty elongated crack as if the sky itself is splitting apart. My lungs hold my breath in as tension and fear of what might follow paralyses my whole body. The thunderclap was so powerful, I know there has to be a reaction from the lurking creatures.

  “It’s open.” Somebody says in that moment of paralysis, but I don’t register it properly, my mind fixed on listening to the booming noise and high-pitched screeches rising from the depths of the building and going all the way up to the door above us on the roof.

  “Captain Richards, the safe is open!” Corporal Simms shouts in my direction.

  I’m immediately pulled back to reality as I register what the Corporal has shouted at me, my wits finally returning, and I look over to the open safe just as another lightning bolt flashes. The intense beam of light catches Sergeant Dixon with his arm in the safe for an instant, like a camera flash catching a criminal in the act and then the beam of light is gone. My eyes struggle to readapt to the low orange light, the photo momentarily burned into my retinas. This time, the thunder almost immediately follows the lightning and the crack is impossibly more powerful and louder than the last, and it feels like the whole building vibrates under its wrath.

  Self-preservation kicks in and my years of hard training take over and not a second too soon because the vibrations aren’t coming from the thunder, they are coming from Rabids sent wild by the storm, inside the building.

  Dixon is without ceremony emptying the contents of the safe into a holdall. He is grabbing whatever his hand touches first and throwing it into the bag as quickly as he possibly can.

  “Stand by for Evac, the safe is open, Buck, make your approach,” I shout into my radio, not worrying about my shout being heard now over the din of Rabids.

  “Received,” Buck responds.

  A dull thud comes from the roof area above me, instantaneously followed by someone shouting, “BREACH” into their radio. Automatic gunfire rings out above our heads, from small arms, whose noise is then overpowered by the colossal and distinctive sound of Dan’s Browning 50-cal.

  The sound causes everyone, even Dixon, to freeze for a second as we realise our worst fears have happened and the Rabids have smashed through the rooftop door. Our mission has just taken a dire turn; the Evac position has been compromised with no viable alternative or fall-back position. The team on the roof is under immediate threat and fighting for their lives with limited ammo. If only that door had held for another few minutes…

  Back on the rooftop, sheets of rain pour down onto the rooftop of the Orion building, soaking Dan and his team to their cores. It runs down their faces, into their eyes and over their weapons. Pools of water spread across the expanse of the flat roof, growing constantly as the roof’s drainage system struggles to cope with the sheer amount of rain falling, and the wind is howling around them, threatening to blow them off their feet.

  Even with the storm accosting him, Dan can see that the stairwell door across from him is taking a hammering from the Rabid creatures behind it, the door visibly rattling in its frame. It is only a matter of time until the door succumbs to the onslaught and gives way, Dan’s hope of getting off the roof before that disaster happens diminishing by the second; even though everyone is ready to move for Evac, the two Lynx are close, hovering above, poised to descend at a moment’s notice. The only thing holding them up is getting that godforsaken safe open.

  Dan had nearly tried to convince Andy to abandon the mission, that the risk was now too high and that they should retreat and regroup when he had radioed him just now for a progress update. Andy had quashed that idea before Dan could even broach it and even though Andy might not be aware fully of their precarious position, Dan had to admit he was right. This mission has to be now, like he said, at all costs, storm or not; they might not get another chance. If they leave and the door is then breached, any team that came back to retrieve the safe would have to fight their way onto the roof and to get into the building, because the Rabids would spread onto the seventh floor through the hole in the roof.

  Perhaps the door will hold for another five minutes, Dan thinks to himself, trying to stay positive as he looks around at his drenched team in their positions around the roof. He then glances up to the sky in front of him, stupidly, to double-check that the Lynx is still there. It is, hovering as steadily as it can in the wind and the rain, Alice poised at the hold door ready for action should she be needed.

  Dan doesn’t look around to check on the other Lynx which is up and away to his right, ready to land, nearer to the roof’s Helipad. Dan’s concentration reverts back to the door just as the first lightning bolt lights up the whole Orion building’s rooftop, taking a snapshot of the rainswept scene, of him, his team, the door, everything, including the two Lynx above. The lightning is followed by an almighty crack of thunder and Dan ducks slightly as if the sky is about to fall on him. His concentration doesn’t waiver from the door, however, and his quivering finger hovers over the trigger of his 50-cal Browning, which gives him some solace. The door’s shaking and rattling escalates significantly, visibly moving in its frame, threatening to burst open at any moment as the Rabids behind it flare up, reacting to the crack of thunder.

  Miraculously, somehow the door stays shut, but just as Dan starts to thank his maker for watching over them, the second lightning bolt blazes from the sky and almost simultaneously an explosion of thunder cracks over him.

  The wooden doorframe splits in two down the middle, releasing the solid door to fly outwards, virtually straight. The door slaps onto the sodden rooftop, sending cascades of water flying into the air all around it. Rabids spray out from the door like a fizzy drink from a shaken bottle, many falling to the ground, unable to control the pressure from behind. The ones that fall are trampled on by the rampage that follows as a stream of Rabids surge onto the roof.

  Dan’s quivering finger fails him, shock and fear taking over his body as he goes into a near stupor, his body inexplicably fighting his brain which is telling him to pull the trigger and fire. He hears “BREACH” shouted into his headset and gunfire erupt from the rest of his team as they go to battle. Finally, after an age, which is, in fact, a second or two, his brain wins its fight and his finger squeezes the Browning’s trigger.

  Dan’s hesitation has given the impossibly quick creatures a foothold onto the roof, as they fly out of the stairwell. The rifles the other men fire at the Rabids are largely ineffective, their bullets missing their targets and not powerful enough to do real damage when they do hit—and their magazines don’t hold
enough bullets. That doesn’t deter these Special Forces professionals; they don’t hesitate when the enemy presents itself, as Dan did, and even as they struggle to overpower the enemy, they still move forward, stalking towards the enemy, trying to push them back and stem the tide.

  Although Dan’s hesitation hands the Rabids a window of opportunity, the Browning’s awesome firepower and ferocity quickly shuts that window. The 50 calibre bullets churn out at an unimaginable rate, rip through any flesh and bone they meet and then continue through to their next victims, the bullets not stopping until they hit something solid. The bullets’ victims today are infected rabid people, but people nevertheless, young, old, male, female and different races. The bullets don’t discriminate; they rip through them all. Dan almost feels sick as he sees dozens of his unfortunate fellow Londoners slain by his hand. He doesn’t relent though; his hesitation takes them too close to catastrophe and he knows that any one of these victims would sink their foul teeth into him, given the chance.

  Rabids suddenly stop attacking from the stairwell and a wave of relief flows over Dan. Not only because he can release his finger from the Browning’s trigger and stop its slaughter, but since he is also running low on this linked belt of ammo for the gun. If it runs out while they are still streaming from the door….

  Dan isn’t naïve enough to think for one second that the Rabid attack has been thwarted and they have all been killed. He hasn’t forgotten the amount of Rabids there were in the grounds of Orion yesterday; that attack was the tip of the iceberg, he is sure of it, and that it is only a matter of time before another starts. Reluctantly, Dan decides he has got to change the Browning’s ammo belt now, while there is a lull in the Rabids’ attack.

  “Reloading, cover me!” he shouts to the rest of the men and he races to do just that.