Capital Falling | Book 4 | Sever

by Winkless, Lance

  “Yes, I know. I’ve got my fingers crossed, Emily,” Stacey replies.

  “You don’t need to cross them; he will get them back. Remember how he got Josh back?” Emily informs Stacey.

  No pressure then, I think to myself again, as Emily gets over-excited.

  “I know he will try his best, but my mum said it won’t be easy,” Stacey tells Emily before turning to me. “Thank you, Andy,” she says.

  “We will do all we can Stacey, but I can’t guarantee anything. You know that?” I ask her.

  “Yes, I understand,” she confirms.

  “Come on Emily, you, me and Stacey will have a walk down to the beach and let them get ready,” Catherine says, reading my mind.

  “That’s a good idea isn’t it, Emily?” I agree.

  “As long as you don’t go without saying goodbye,” Emily replies.

  “Of course, we won’t. You’ll be back long before then.”

  A few minutes later, I watch out of the kitchen window as Emily leads them down the beach path towards the sand dunes and the beach beyond. The changeable weather of late proves that Autumn is closing in but it’s a nice day outside today. As they disappear, I am more than a bit jealous that I can’t join them on their trip to the beach.

  “Shall we, Dad?” Josh asks from behind me. “Alice and I have got the equipment in from the shed?”

  Reluctantly, I drag my gaze away from the beautiful view of Devon that the kitchen window offers. Josh and Alice are eager to get preparations underway and to get back into the fight. They are young and crave the action. I am definitely not young, and I’ve seen enough action for two lifetimes. I’ve had my fill of it. Even the drive back up the M5 to Bristol and then onto the M4 to London fills me with dread. The drive isn’t particularly long; we should reach London in about three hours, but London is the last place on earth I want to go back to. I’d much rather nip upstairs, put on some loud swim shorts, grab a towel, and join Catherine and the girls on the beach.

  Alice is already hard at work when I follow Josh into the lounge. She is seated on the sofa with her SA80 rifle in pieces on the coffee table in front of her. Her concentration on the weapon is total, so she doesn’t give me a second look as I enter the room. My M4 is standing against the arm of the sofa waiting for my attention, with the rest of the kit in the middle of the floor.

  I don’t know if I can face it, I think when I see my weapon. I need to get my head in the game. I make my excuses, leave the lounge, and head upstairs to take a moment and to use the loo.

  I stop suddenly when I enter the bedroom; lying on the bed is something I’d hoped I’d never see again. Set out across the bed is a combat uniform and I am confused about where it has come from. I edge close to it, as if afraid it might bite me. Catherine must have put it out for me, but God knows where she has conjured it up from and below the bed, sitting on the floor, are the boots I arrived in.

  Hanging on the end bedpost is my worn combat vest. I thought the vest had been discarded, thrown away after I had stripped it off on the doorstep when we first arrived at the cottage. Perhaps Catherine knew that it was inevitable that I would need to suit up again and she had kept it. She knew that the nightmare hadn’t ended, not for any of us.

  Deep down, I always knew it too. I don’t know why I torture myself with fantasies of spending a day at the beach. This is my uniform, not a pair of overpowering swim shorts and sunglasses. My arms reach to pull off my t-shirt, and quickly I am standing in front of the tall mirror in the corner of the room looking at myself, dressed for combat. The uniform feels as though I’ve never taken it off and the only thing missing is my sand-coloured beret with the winged dagger insignia of the SAS.

  I have no immediate idea where I lost the beret? Is it still in Sir Malcolm’s private bathroom at the Orion building, or did I lose it on my trek through London or at the battle of Notting Hill? I didn’t have it on at Heathrow Airport before the airport was nuked, my brain thinks through the fog of that day. As I go to use the loo before joining Josh and Alice, I decide the beret must be still on the floor of Sir Malcolm’s bathroom.

  My back shivers horribly as thoughts of the time I spent in that dreaded bathroom return; it was absolutely hell on earth. Unimaginable pain torturing my body in the darkness, nightmares and psychotic episodes nearly ripping my mind to shreds.

  How I survived through that night is a mystery to me, even now. Did my body go through an unexplained metamorphosis in that horrendous time? My appointment at the hospital for tests today was supposed to tell me that. I won’t be suffering those tests today. The tests will happen tomorrow, and they won’t be carried out by an attentive doctor, but by the first undead Rabid, I encounter.

  You’re supposed to be getting your shit together, I tell myself as I flush the toilet and turn to wash my hands. I try not to look at myself in the mirror as I stand at the sink; it won’t help my state of mind, but it is inevitable.

  The jagged remnants of the Rabid scratch marks down the side of my face are unavoidable for me to look upon. The scabbing is almost gone but that barely improves their appearance. The swelling under the skin and their redness persists, no matter what ointments and potions Catherine gives me to dab onto them. Undoubtedly, the best relief for the marks would have been a day at the beach with the sun on my face and salt water on my skin.

  Keep dreaming, I think as I switch the bathroom light off and step back into the bedroom. Picking up my trousers from a chair beside the bed, I fish in the pockets for my wallet, phone, and anything else I’ll need. I check the wallet to ensure the military ID card is still in it, before I stuff it into the pocket of my combat trousers. Then, leaning down, I slide my hand under the mattress on my side of the bed until it touches cold steel. My hand closes around the grip of the Sig and I pull the gun out of its hiding place with satisfaction. Automatically, I eject the clip and check it before sliding it back home, even though I know the gun is fully loaded.

  My trusted Sig is soon nestled in its home in my shoulder holster that I retrieve from the wardrobe. My Gerber combat knife is already secured in the holster; it has been since I put the holster into the wardrobe.

  That’s it, I think and go to exit the bedroom to go back downstairs, but suddenly I stop at the doorway. I’ve nearly forgotten one of life’s most important pieces of kit, my bloody phone charger, and I turn to go and pull it out of the wall.

  “Back in uniform, eh Dad?” Josh says with only an ounce of sympathy when I arrive back in the lounge.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I lie. “Do you know where it came from?”

  “There was quite a bit of kit in the cars that we brought down from London. Lieutenant Winters insisted I offload it on the morning, before he, Dixon and Collins left. He said we’d need it more than they would. I’m not sure he meant for another mission to London, though,” Josh informs me.

  “I’m sure he didn’t,” I agree. Although I think it’s more than a coincidence that the uniform has a captain’s insignia on each shoulder. “How’s it going here?” I ask without pushing the subject.

  “We’ve gone through most of the kit and separated out everything we think we will need, which is mostly weapons and ammo. The kit we are taking is over here and the rest is over there,” Alice tells me pointing.

  “How’s the ammo looking?” I ask.

  “Put it like this, if we run out, we will have been in one hell of a fight,” Josh says joking, but I don’t laugh. “Here, we’ve taken an inventory,” he quickly adds, handing me a piece of paper seeing that I am not amused.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking the piece of paper and studying it in silence while Josh and Alice look on. “No night vision goggles then?” I ask eventually.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” Alice answers.

  “Okay, it looks like a dawn raid then.”

  “Yes, Boss,” Alice replies.

  Alice’s use of the word boss hits me like a ton of bricks. Memories of Dan return, as boss was his wo
rd, his term to address me. He used the word that often that I wouldn’t have been surprised if he murmured it in his sleep. I can confirm that he didn’t though; I’ve been holed up in enough crusty hotel rooms over the years with him to be sure of that. Even when we were socialising, he couldn’t stop himself from calling me boss. When I would protest, he would just grin and laugh and send me to the bar to get the drinks in.

  “If you don’t mind, Alice, please just call me Andy. I think Dan wore out the word boss,” I ask her gently.

  “Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry Andy, I never thought,” she replies, blushing, her embarrassment obvious.

  “Don’t worry; it’s not your fault. It’s just a bit difficult.”

  “I should have thought,” she says, almost to herself.

  “Honestly, don’t worry. Now, do we have a decent map of London?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Yes,” Josh confirms, turning to look for it.

  “Good, spread it out on the coffee table.”

  With the map spread out, Alice quickly finds Richmond and shows us where the house and boat of her family friend are situated on the river. Then, using the map and internet, we attempt to calculate how long it will take to sail down the river to reach a drop-off area on the riverbank, as close as possible to the Cheesegrater building. Our calculations turn out to be more of an educated guess, as the river twists and turns as it snakes into London, so judging the distance is tricky. We also don’t know how fast the boat is and how long the delay getting through any cordon, or possibly cordons will be. In the end, we decide to allow at least two-and-a half hours sailing time, which is longer than I thought it would be.

  “This is where the river will be cordoned off,” I say, pointing to Kew Bridge on the map, a bridge which spans the Thames at the same point as the North and South Circular Roads. “That’s the perimeter of the quarantine zone.”

  “Yes, that’ll be the place,” Josh agrees.

  “Have you thought of a blag to get us through?” Alice questions me.

  “I’m still thinking about it, but I’ll come up with something,” I tell her confidently.

  We have less trouble identifying the best-positioned drop-off point from the boat and on to the riverbank. I had assumed that the closest position would be near Tower Bridge next to the dreaded Tower of London. I am more than a little relieved to discover that it isn’t. The farther I stay away from that tower and the ghosts it has entombed in its belly, the better.

  I will be dropped off at Tower Bridge’s neighbour, London Bridge, with the added bonus that London Bridge is situated closer on the river as we travel. Hopping off the boat should be easy enough on that part of the riverbank and steps lead straight up off the bank and onto the bridge. Once on the bridge, it will be about a half klick jaunt up to Karen and Jim’s building, hopefully using the main road that leads off the bridge all the way.

  “Do you think the bridge will be barricaded?” Alice questions.

  “It definitely will be on the south side of the river but hopefully not the north. But we won’t know until we arrive,” I answer.

  “If it were me, I’d have left the north open to create a kill zone on the bridge,” Josh offers.

  “It’s possible. Let’s hope so, and let’s hope I’m not a target wandering into that zone,” I say.

  “Surely any sniper will only target the undead?” Alice tries to assure me.

  “I’m sure that’s true,” I reply, even though I am not. There could be some very itchy fingers attached to sleep-deprived squaddies covering the bridge.

  “Do you think I should try and phone ahead, tell my parents’ friends we are coming?” Alice asks.

  I have to think about that one for a moment and I feel my hand go to my chin while I consider. “No,” I finally say, “if they decide they are not happy about it, they could throw a very large spanner in the works. Alert the authorities even.”

  “But what if we travel all that way and they’re not there, or if there is a problem with their boat?” Alice presses.

  “Then we improvise and find another boat; there must be plenty of them on the river in Richmond,” I assume.

  “There always was, but who knows now?”

  “We’ll find one,” I say confidently. “Okay, let’s check comms and then load up before they get back from the beach.”

  Josh and Alice move as soon as I’ve spoken, and I finally reach over to pick up my M4 from its resting place. The weapon feels heavy in my grasp, heavier than I remember and almost alien to me. I press ahead and begin to strip it down and before I know it, my hands are moving over the rifle at speed, exactly like the professional I am.

  Josh and Alice load up the gear that we are taking with us into the back of what was once Colonel Reed’s black Land Rover Defender. I was surprised when Lieutenant Winters said he was going to travel back in one of the other cars that we had arrived in and leave the Defender with us. Dixon had joked that it suited him more and that he should have the Defender. Winters had none of it though and said the Defender would be more useful where it was. That it suited the countryside landscape of Devon better than any city. Winters may have been right about that, but the four-wheel-drive was about to head back to the city in any case and loaded for action to boot.

  The gear that isn’t required is taken back to the outside shed, then Josh and Alice disappear upstairs to change into their uniforms. With the house quiet, I take the chance and go into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Once my brew is steaming in its mug, I sit at the kitchen table, splitting my time between looking out of the window for the girls to return and contemplating the mission ahead.

  My wandering mind is interrupted by a sudden ringing sound coming from Stacey’s phone that is sitting on the table beside me. The word MUM is flashing on the screen and I quickly realise that it has already been two hours since I spoke to Karen and Jim, telling them to ring back. I give the phone a second to ring so that I can gather my thoughts before I pick it up to answer.

  “Hello, Karen?”

  “Andy, thank God. I thought you weren’t going to answer for a moment then,” Karen replies.

  “I’m here, don’t worry. Are you and Jim still secure?”

  “Yes, we can still hear noises in the building, but they still seem distant.”

  “That’s good news. You are going to have to hang on until the morning; we will try to get you out then.”

  “Oh Andy, thank you, you don’t know how much this means to us,” Karen tells me, snivelling, with Jim’s voice in the background saying, thank God.

  “Okay, listen carefully. I’ll tell you what we are planning. Have you got a pen and paper there?”

  “Yes,” Karen replies.

  “Firstly, take down my number.” I give them my number. “Use that number from now on if you need to contact me or if anything changes. I have to know if things change there, and I need you two to promise me that you’ll tell me straight away if they do. I’m putting myself, Josh and the other person who is coming, Alice at great risk and if things change for the worse it might become impossible for us to try.”

  “Of course, we promise, Andy. We know how risky this is and we won’t put you in any more danger,” Karen insists.

  “We promise,” Jim agrees.

  “It’s easy to say that, but if things go downhill, you may be tempted not to tell me out of fear and desperation. That wouldn’t only put our lives at risk, but Stacey’s too. If we don’t return from there, there will be no one left to protect your daughter… or my daughter.”

  “That won’t happen, Andy, we swear it. Stacey is the most important thing to us and if we can’t protect her, then we need you to do it,” Karen says.

  “You can rely on it, Andy,” Jim states.

  “Sorry if I seem harsh, but I am trusting you on this,” I tell them and they both assure me again. “Okay, this is what we are planning. We will be setting off to drive back up to London shortly. We are heading for Richmond where a cont
act we have has a boat. We’re going to use that boat to reach central London and we will aim to arrive at just gone dawn, so we have the light. We plan on setting off at 0400 hours and arriving at around 0630 hours. Once we arrive, I will come and get you so be prepared to move at a moment’s notice from 0600 onwards. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, we understand, will be ready at 6 a.m. Andy,” they confirm.

  “Good; we are going to have to move quickly, so don’t bring anything with you and don’t wear anything that will slow you down. I know how you like your high heels Karen,” I say, deadpan.

  “I’ll have flats on and don’t worry Andy, I can run,” Karen tells me.

  “Any running will be on my orders. You will both do exactly as I say at all times, understood?”

  “Understood, we are in your hands, Andy,” Jim confirms.

  “Good, now tell me exactly where you are in the building and the layout as best as you can.”

  “We’re on the tenth floor,” Jim begins. “We don’t know if the lifts are still working but the power is out so probably not. As you come onto the tenth floor, go right and through the main doors into our company, Cole and Co. That will bring you into the reception area. From there, go right and into the main office area, which is open plan. We are in a small office off that area on the right and it will have the name Phil Matlock on the door. I think that is about all I can tell you, Andy.”

  The tenth floor is going to be quite a haul, I think. I suppose it could be worse, that skyscraper must have forty or fifty floors. I think again, trying to stay positive.

  “Okay, can you think of anything Karen, any security doors or any potential hurdles?” I then ask.

  “No, nothing like that. I think Jim has told you everything.”

  “Okay, thank you. Now, I’ll want to speak to you again at certain times in the morning, so phone me back at these times. Phone me at 0345, before we set off on the boat to give me an update on your situation, and then at 0600 to do the same, understood?”

  “Understood,” Karen says.