“Move out of our way, young man,” she says. “We are not prisoners; we have been in this room for hours. We are going downstairs to get something to eat and if that a problem, then I suggest you take it up with your superiors, or you can shoot us of course. Now move,” Catherine instantly regrets saying shoot us, with Emily beside her.
The soldier looks like a small boy who has just been told off by his mum; he still doesn’t move, though. He has his orders after all.
“Why don’t we compromise?” Alice suggests. “Why don’t you escort the three ladies down to the lounge area, Lance Corporal, I am sure you have had enough up here too and you’re probably hungry and could eat some food?”
The mention of the word food is a masterstroke by Alice. Bribing a young squaddie with food gets a result more often than not.
After a moment’s deliberation, the five of them are walking down the corridor to the stairs under the close supervision of their guard, the Lance Corporal.
Emily holds her brother's hand all the way and her grip tightens when they exit the stairs into the bustle of the departure lounge.
Although still busy, the lounge has thinned out since Josh and Alice came through it a while ago. Thankfully, however, the food is still being served and they head straight for it. There are plenty of tables to choose from after they have been served and Catherine points out a possible one.
“Josh, Alice!” a call comes from their right.
Sergeant Dixon is standing next to a table with his hand in the air.
“Who is that?” Catherine asks.
“That is Sergeant Dixon and his SBS patrol, the ones I mentioned upstairs.” Josh answers.
“Okay, you go ahead and tell them to be discreet before we follow you over,” Catherine tells Josh, turning her back on Emily who is beside her with her tray of food, so she doesn’t hear.
“I’ll go, you stay with Emily,” Alice says quietly to Josh, before walking off in their direction, her tray of food out in front of her.
Josh puts his tray of food down when he reaches them, before he greets his SBS comrades.
“Good to see you all,” Josh says as he shakes the four men’s hands. “I thought you would be gone by now—where are the other lads?”
“They were reassigned before they had a chance to finish their nosh. Terrible luck for them,” Dixon says, smiling from ear to ear about the misfortune of his SAS counterparts. “You were lucky to catch us. We are off now, just had time for dessert and after-dinner coffee though.” His smile broadens.
“What’s your assignment?” Alice asks.
“Can’t say, my dear,” Dixon answers.
“Top Secret, is it?” Josh asks.
“No, they just haven’t told us yet, just been given a time and a place to report in. Anyway, forget that, who is this lovely girl?” Dixon says, bending down to Emily, who still stands with her tray, which Stacey takes off her.
“This is my sister Emily.”
“Ah, I thought it must be, nice to meet you, Emily, I’m Dixon, I knew your father, he told me you were a lovely brave girl.”
“Don’t you have a proper name?” Emily says, recoiling slightly from the big, scared SBS operative.
“Ha-ha, straight to the point just like your father. I do but people just call me Dixon.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr Dixon,” Emily says shyly.
Dixon laughs again. “Nice to meet you too, Emily. Right, we better be on our way.” Dixon says as he stands up straight.
The four men gather their gear together and say their goodbyes.
“Look after your brother, Emily,” Dixon turns and says as they go.
“How did he know Dad?” Emily asks.
“He was on the mission when Dad died,” Josh says, unsure if it was the right thing to say.
“Oh,” is all Emily says before she sits down at the table with her food.
Major Rees glances at his watch with some trepidation, regretting the amount of time he had told Colonel Reed it would take to sift through all the files and information laid out in front of him. He now wishes he had added more time to his estimate.
Lieutenant Winters had instantly seconded another conference room close to the command centre to work from. He was also in the process of assigning a team to the task and arranging the requested equipment to be delivered. That didn’t change the fact that now Rees had laid all the evidence out on the long black conference table, he was sure more time would be needed, time that wouldn’t be forthcoming.
Sadness and regret that Molly, his brilliant and trusted Lieutenant, isn’t here to assist him hits Rees and then the guilt of her death washes over him. She had warned him so many times of her misgivings with the operation to vacate the old storage facility. She had urged for the operation to be halted, revaluated and new wide-ranging precautions to be adopted. Not an hour before the disaster happened, she had burst into his office demanding that the operation be halted and saying that it wasn’t being carried out safely. He had agreed with her concerns, had even protested to his superiors—but in the end what did he do? Instead of stopping the operation and refusing to carry on, he had followed orders, had ordered Molly to continue with an operation that he knew wasn’t safe.
Nobody was holding him responsible for the disaster; his protests had been lodged with his superiors and were on record. The disaster, the viral outbreak and all that is now following are being blamed on a forklift driver and a young contractor fainting. Those are the CCTV images being shown by the news outlets to explain how the disaster happened.
No mention of piss-poor planning, cost-cutting or incompetent management. The cover-up is in full swing, everyone is covering their arses and that include Rees. He knows that his weakness and incompetence is to blame for the whole catastrophe. He is responsible for Molly’s death and untold numbers of others. He was in charge of that facility and the guilt hangs over him like a crushing weight.
When the time is right, when he has done all he can to try and stop the outbreak, he will confess to his responsibility, confess and be damned to his fate, as he deserves.
That time is not now, though. Now, he must use all his knowledge to stop the outbreak. There are few people who have his background and understanding of the type of virus spreading in the general population. He knows how they work, and he knows the consequences if it isn’t stopped. To give himself up now would be selfish. He must carry his burden and fight the virus, not for redemption. He is beyond redemption, so his only motivation now is to kill the virus.
Major Rees looks again at the files in front of him, thinks again of Molly and reaches for the first file.
“A team of six analysts will be here in less than ten minutes,” Lieutenant Winters informs Rees just as he is opening the first file. “They were already on-site, on secondment from GCHQ to analyse the data from Operation Denial. Two have a medical background and the others have experience in chemical and biological weapon data. It’s the best I could do within the time frame, Sir.”
“Very good, Lieutenant; that is better than I was expecting. And the equipment?”
“The computers will be here momentarily, Sir, including two floppy disk readers with USB connectivity. Our best tech guys will set them up and install the software to read the floppy disks. In fact, here they are now, Sir.” Winters goes over to the door and waves them in, with the hardware on two-wheeler sack trucks.
“Set the computer up there as quickly as you can,” Rees says, pointing. The three men in military uniforms say, ‘yes, Sir,’ and urgently get to it.
“Is there anything else you need, Sir?” Winters asks.
“Yes, an overhead projector; I have just noticed a file of films.”
“We really are going ‘old school,’ Sir.”
“The contents of that safe were in there for many years, Lieutenant, and the only thing that could play into our hands is that they have been well protected.”
“I’ll get on it, Sir,” Winters says, already scrolli
ng through his phone.
Finally, Major Rees’s head goes down and he starts to analyse the data in the first file he picked up. This is his forte, crunching data in his head. Biological, chemical or physical makes little difference to him; he is a genius when it comes to understanding scientific data. The text, equations and chemical compound structures are his domain and that is why he has the rank of Major. It isn’t because of his people skills or fighting prowess.
Rees is virtually finished analysing the first file from page to page when the team of analysts from GCHQ arrives on the scene. The file has no data relevant to the virus and he picks up a red marker pen that arrived with the equipment to mark the front of the folder. He will have the file double and triple-checked even though he is confident it has no bearing. Each pair of eyes might see something from a different angle and come to a different conclusion. Rees does not think he is infallible, far from it, as the last few days have proven.
In rapid time, the computers are up and running, their fans working to keep them cool. And when the Tech guys, who actually consist of two women and one man, have the software installed and disk readers connected, their leader, Lieutenant Fiona Portman, stands to attention to inform the Major.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Let’s see if these disks are still readable?” Rees says handing her the plastic box containing the old technology.
“Yes, Sir,” she replies eagerly, taking the box as if it is a Christmas present.
In quick time, everyone is busy with their assigned tasks; three of the analysts sit around the table, sifting through the files, checking, double-checking before triple-checking the data. Flagging any data that could be relevant and passing it on, its final destination Major Rees.
Only one of the floppy disks is corrupted and unreadable and that disk is currently being taken apart, cleaned and reassembled to try and get at least some data off it. The data on the rest of the floppy disks is considerable and is going to take time to analyse, so there is no time to waste. Two analysts sit in front of the computers sorting the data, sending documents to the hastily set-up printer that’s constantly churning out paper.
Colonel Reed suddenly strides through the door, into the conference room.
All the military personnel in the room instantly stop what they are doing and stand to attention. The analysts from GCHQ give him a cursory look to see what the fuss is about and then get back to work.
“At ease men, carry on,” the Colonel orders, not wanting the work on his prize to be delayed. “Report, Major,” Reed says, striding over to Rees who stands with an open file in his hand.
“We have found no data connection to the virus as of yet, Sir. There is a lot of data to analyse, however. The computer disks are providing masses of data, Sir, all of which need to be sorted and analysed. With the amount of data there is, Sir, it could take hours, if not days to get through.”
“We don’t have hours, and days, Major, as you well know. I don’t want to hear excuses. I want to see results!”
“I understand that, Sir, we are getting through the data as quickly as possible, Sir, with the resources we have, Sir.”
“If you need more resources, Lieutenant Winters will provide you with them. I expect your report within the hour, Major.”
“Yes, Sir,” Major Rees says as the Colonel turns and leaves.
Rees turns away from the exiting Colonel and looks at the mound of files on the conference table. New files are being added to the table constantly as the printer works overtime. New data is collated, stapled together and brought over ready for analysis. The task is daunting and as a sinking feeling starts to develop in Rees’s stomach, he looks over to Lieutenant Winters, in the hope that he can offer some solutions.
Josh looks over to his little sister. Emily has hardly eaten any of her food. Her right elbow is perched on top of the table and her head is resting on its hand. Her left hand holds her fork which pushes food around her plate aimlessly. She stars down blankly at the food changing positions. She is in another world, and Josh knows what she will be thinking about; the look of sadness on her face tells him that if nothing else.
Josh had expected Emily to be much worse and more upset than she is. She was very upset when he told her, as inconsolable as Josh had expected. He hadn’t anticipated how quickly she would start to recover, however. For her to be sitting down here at the table is proof of that and Josh doesn’t know if he should be more worried by it. She is very quiet and who knows what is actually going on in her head?
Maybe the events of the last few days have hardened her to her loss? Perhaps it hasn’t come as such a shock to her? These are not normal times and so maybe he shouldn’t expect her to be affected as normal? She has seen the world in a different light now—everybody has, and that can’t be undone. She has seen Stacey lose both of her parents and seen how strong she has been, so maybe some of her strength has transferred to Emily?
Whatever it is, Josh knows he has to keep a close eye on her, and that she is hurting, even if she is hiding--or worse, burying--it.
The Lance Corporal, their escort, is keeping his distance whilst keeping a close eye on them. He has finished his food and is sits at the table adjacent to them. Catherine had invited him over to join them, but he politely refused, preferring to stay where he was. That was probably a good idea for him, as Catherine had only wanted to try and get him onside.
“There is nothing keeping us here now, so we should get out of the city,” Catherine suddenly says.
“I agree,” Josh says after a small pause. “Have you any ideas where we could go and how to get there?”
“I have friends in Devon. They have a farm, it’s beautiful down there. I have spoken to them and they have said we can go there. They have a holiday home on the farm that they rent out which we can use. What do you think?”
“It sounds too good to be true! Did you tell them there are four or five of us?” Josh asks, glancing at Alice.
“Yes, I explained the situation and they are more than happy for us to use the holiday home. I’ve known them for a long time, and they would say if it was a problem. They have had quite a few cancellations. Well, actually, everybody has cancelled.”
“What do you think, Emily, it sounds nice don’t you think, countryside and beaches?” Josh asks.
“I suppose.” Emily shrugs, without looking up.
“What about you, Stacey, what do you think?” Josh asks, looking over to her.
“It sounds fine. I will have to speak to my grandparents again though. They have asked me if I want to go to theirs?” Stacey says, confused by the whole situation--and who can blame her?
“Alice?” Josh finally asks.
“I don’t know what I am going to do. I guess I will have to speak to my superiors. I am sure they will want to reassign me.”
“No way,” Josh says. “My Dad made a deal that if we completed the mission we would be out.”
“Are you sure that included me, Josh? I’m not,” Alice says, looking worried.
“I will speak to Lieutenant Winters and get him to clear it,” Josh says, sounding more confident than he is.
“Well if that is the case, then yes, I’m definitely up for some sea air. Me and my parents aren’t close, and they are back in the U.S. anyway.”
“How are we going to get to Devon?” Stacey asks.
“I will see if Lieutenant Winters can help us, see if he can get us a car or something?” Josh says.
“I think you are putting a lot of stock in the Lieutenant,” Alice says.
“When we got back, he said to contact him if I needed anything. I think he was feeling guilty, so I’ll try.”
“He should feel guilty, but not as much as bloody Colonel Reed, I think I’ll wring his neck if I see him again,” Catherine seethes and a silence falls over the table.
“Okay, we are all agreed,” Josh says, breaking the silence. “I’ll see if I can get hold of Lieutenant Winters.”
“You tell me if you nee
d to me talk to him, Josh. We have some history and might be able to put some pressure on him,” Catherine insists.
“Okay, thanks; I will,” Josh says and gets up from the table, reaching for his phone in his front pocket. He finds Lieutenant Winters’ number and presses call.
Winters has been reassigned by Major Rees into helping go through the growing piles of paperwork constantly coming fresh off the printer. There seems to be no end to them. He had forgotten how much data the old 3 ½” floppy disks could actually hold. By today’s standards, the memory of a floppy disk is tiny, but they can still store a mass of information, especially when it’s simple forms and data.
Winters had tried to insist that he didn’t know what he would be looking for. That didn’t work with the Major, though. The Major used flattery to get him onboard, telling him he was an intelligent man and that all he needed to do was look for any information pertaining to viruses, chemicals or anything that sounded medical. If he found anything, he was to put it in a certain pile for further investigation. Winters’ job basically was to root out the information that was definitely not what they were looking for.
The loudest sound in the conference room is the repetitive sound of the printer working. All of the analysts are silent, using all of their concentration to study the information in front of them. The military personnel follow suit, not wanting to break that concentration. Winters hopes that at any moment, somebody will speak up, saying they have found something he waits on.
A vibration buzzes against Winters’ thigh and he pulls his phone out to see who is calling him.
“That had better be important, Lieutenant,” Major Rees states.
“No Sir, it can wait,” Winters replies as he presses the reject button on his phone's screen. He will call Josh Richards back as soon as he can.
Chapter 6
A faint intermittent high-frequency tone hums somewhere inside his head. Has a mosquito crawled down his ear lobe, eaten through his eardrum and burrowed into his brain to make its nest? The jungle is bursting with insects searching for a suitable dark hole to lay their larvae, to keep them safe from predators.
Capital Falling Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 50