Capital Falling | Book 4 | Sever

by Winkless, Lance

“But what if the phone goes dead here for some reason, Andy?” Jim asks nervously.

  “If I don’t receive your calls, we will be forced to proceed as planned. So, in that case, still be ready to move from 0600.”

  “We will be,” Jim says.

  “I think that is everything. Are you both clear on the plan? Have you any questions you need to ask?”

  “No, everything is clear, Andy. We will phone you at 0345 and at 0600, and be ready to move from 0600, agreed?” Karen says, sounding almost like a military operative. Perhaps she has missed her vocation, I think, but then quickly remember the high heels.

  “Okay good. Be under no illusions tomorrow, this is not going to be easy. There will definitely be death, blood, and guts on show in that building and in the streets. It will be a miracle if I don’t have to fight my way in and we all don’t have to fight our way out. Our best bet is to move slow, keep quiet and stay hidden, but that probably won’t be possible. So, expect frantic and gunfire, moving at speed with zombies attacking. The important thing is not to panic; even if all seems lost, don’t panic. Panic will get you killed or worse, bitten. Be ready to follow my orders, even if you don’t agree. There won’t be time for discussions or arguments, and I know best, believe me. Agreed?”

  “Absolutely Andy, we agree. You are in charge and we will be ready for anything. We just want to see Stacey again,” Karen speaks for both.

  “So do I and my daughter, and that will be my priority, for me to see them again. I will try my best, but if I don’t think I can succeed I will be forced to abandon the mission; there are no guarantees, I’m afraid,” I tell them plainly.

  “We know that. We are just grateful you are going to try. Please know how grateful we are,” Karen tells me.

  “I do Karen,” I reply. “That’s everything then and I need to get final preparations ready here. So, good luck tonight and I’ll speak to you in the morning.” I finish.

  Taking a deep breath, I lay Stacey’s phone back down onto the table, my mind straining. I haven’t any particular final preparations to do, I just had to get off the phone. I said my piece and now I just want to chill with another brew until the girls return and we say our goodbyes.

  “What the hell!” I huff as I get up from the table and Josh hovering in the doorway makes me jump.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks confused.

  “Why are you hovering in the doorway?”

  “You were speaking, and I don’t want to disturb you. Is everything okay?” Josh asks concerned.

  “Yes, sorry. That call put me on edge I suppose. Did you hear it all?”

  “No, just the last of it, I think,” he tells me. “Are you sure you’re okay, Dad?”

  “I’m fine, do you want a brew?” I ask.

  “You sit, I’ll do it,” Josh says, moving to the kettle.

  “Thanks.”

  “What’s going on Dad, it’s not like you to be so jumpy?”

  “That call and the thought of going back to London has me on edge,” I tell him honestly.

  “It’s not just you who’s on edge. I’m nervous as fuck, so don’t beat yourself up.”

  “You’ve got the advantage of youth; I’m getting too long in the tooth for all this stress.”

  “You’re not old Dad, well not that old. Don’t forget you’re still not one hundred percent after your last ordeal in London. Maybe we could delay a day or two?” Josh suggests.

  “No, it’s now or never. They’re at the end of their tether and probably won’t last another day or two. They’d get desperate and do something stupid. I’ll be okay once I’ve got another brew inside me.”

  “I’m with you all the way Dad. I’ve been thinking, I should come with you to get them, cover your back. Alice can watch the boat,” Josh says. God bless him.

  “I know you’d come with me son, and if there was anyone I’d want to cover my back, it would be you. This isn’t the time though; this only has any chance of succeeding if I can get past the undead without them reacting to my presence. If you came, they’d definitely attack us, and we wouldn’t stand a chance. I need you to cover our retreat with Alice, okay?”

  “I know it isn’t an option, but I just wanted you to know that you’re not alone in this,” Josh tells me sincerely.

  “I already know that champ, and thanks.”

  “Are you making me one?” Alice asks from behind me.

  “If you want one?” Josh replies.

  “Of course, I want one. Tea though, please. I may be American but some of your Brit’s bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

  “Take a seat then madam; it’ll be right up.” Josh smiles.

  “Everything good?” Alice asks, obviously having heard at least some of our conversation.

  “Yes, Dad and I were just discussing the mission. I wanted to go with him to the building.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alice says.

  “Yes, I know, but I wanted to offer.”

  “Fair play,” Alice responds.

  Just as Josh puts Alice’s tea in front of her, I see a little head emerging from the path in the sand dunes. Emily dashes out of the dunes and is halfway back to the house by the time Catherine and Stacey appear from in amongst the swaying long grass.

  “Here comes trouble,” I tell Josh and Alice.

  Emily jumps straight onto my lap when she arrives in the kitchen. She doesn’t say anything, she just sits hugging me tightly around my middle.

  “How was the beach?” I ask eventually, after savouring her hug for a while.

  “It was okay. A bit boring without you running around like a madman.”

  I smile, a smile that widens as Catherine comes into the kitchen, followed by Stacey. Silence ensues for a moment as we all look around the room at each other. All of us probably wondering the same thing. Will we all be here again with each other, in our hideaway on the coast of Devon? I pray that we will, and with any luck, Karen and Jim will have joined us. I try to ignore the shadow that looms in the back of my mind. I struggle incredibly hard not to acknowledge it.

  Chapter 7

  Major Doctor Stephen Rees’s mind races back to the same time and space it always does when he allows his guard to drop. The horrific images are constantly waiting, knocking on the back of his consciousness to present themselves and to torment Rees’s sanity. He knows exactly what the diagnosis is and what treatment should be prescribed for his sickness, but he won’t allow his PTSD to prevent him from trying to fix the chaos and suffering his negligence has caused.

  Once more, as he knows he will for eternity, Rees sees himself desperately pressing his security card against the sensor next to the locked, airtight doors blocking his path. He pants, out of breath, after his panicked scramble from his office two floors above from where Molly is overseeing the loading of equipment in the storage facility.

  Not even his top-level security card will override the locking mechanism of the security doors. Not once the facilities computer algorithm has triggered the emergency quarantine procedure. The door remains locked tight, no matter how forcefully he bangs against it. All he can do is stare in terrified panic through the thick glass panel of the airtight door, through to the glass panel in the second airtight door and into the storage facility beyond.

  Bright bubbled orange biohazard suits suddenly appear and then disappear from his limited view into the storage facility. Rees feels a glimmer of hope that the situation is being contained, that his trusted Lieutenant and colleague Molly is already following protocol and implementing the facilities decontamination procedures.

  On his tiptoes, Rees cranes his neck to try and get a better view through the doors to see what is happening, to see if the protocols are being adhered to. He manages to catch a glimpse of Molly and then all at once, he goes dizzy as dread and terror rip through his entire body. Inexplicably, Molly is outside her biohazard suit and exposed. What is she thinking, Rees panics? She is not following procedure; she could be contaminated, an
d containment could be lost.

  A flash of bright light blinds Rees for a second and he ducks in reflex as a thunderous boom explodes from inside the storage facility. The door in front of him shakes, and the building around him shudders from the shocking explosion. Rees’s panic escalates as he tries to regather himself, looking again to see what has happened inside.

  Smoke billows up to the ceiling and light flickers beyond the glass and on the far side of the storage room. There’s a fire, Rees’s mind screams as he waits for the storage facility’s fire suppression system to activate. Why isn’t it kicking in? he thinks as Molly’s panicked face suddenly comes back into his view as she races towards the sanctuary of the decontamination room.

  Rees watches dumbfounded in terror as a figure crashes into Molly, knocking her out of view and stopping her from reaching her salvation. Rees only catches a glimpse of the figure as it careers into Molly. Just a fleeting glimpse of the heinous creature’s face as it follows Molly down, its evil eyes fixed on her and its mouth gaping. The beast’s grotesque features are haunting Rees’s mind as they will for the rest of eternity.

  “ETA, ten minutes.”

  The announcement feeds into Rees’s ears through the headset that adorns the top of his head. Instantly, the beast’s hideous face retreats into the back of his mind, but it doesn’t disappear; it lurks in the background somewhere, watching and waiting for its chance to terrorize Rees again.

  Replacing the tormenting creature’s image is the lush green countryside of Devon, dotted with villages, dissected by grey winding roads. Rees turns his head to try and get a bearing on where they are, the sweat from his day terror dampening the clothes against his skin. The city of Plymouth is close enough for him to see in the near distance; they will soon be leaving the green of the countryside behind.

  “Are you feeling alright Major?” a different voice asks through Rees’s headset.

  “Yes, I’m fine thank you Lieutenant,” Rees replies.

  Rees fidgets in the seat of the comparatively comfortable helicopter his superiors laid on for this trip. He is far more used to the unforgiving holds of the standard everyday military helicopter transports he travels in. This cabin’s interior is far more comfortable, almost executive.

  “Are you sure, Sir, you look a bit peaky?” the voice insists.

  “I’m sure Lieutenant.”

  Lieutenant Winters eyes Major Rees opposite him with concern. Despite Rees’s insistence to the contrary, he doesn’t look well; he is visibly sweating and looks quite pale. Winter’s leaves it at that, not questioning the Major any further; perhaps the man suffers from air sickness and it won’t be long until they land.

  “Give me your impressions of Captain Andy Richards, Lieutenant,” Rees questions.

  “I don’t know him that well, personally, Sir. I only met him for the first time in the run-up to the mission to retrieve the safe from Orion Securities,” Winters begins, not being entirely truthful. “With regards to the mission, I found him very capable, even though his hand was forced by Colonel Reed to carry out the mission. As you know, Sir. My guess is that he will take part in the tests and want to get back to his family as soon as possible, Sir.”

  “Didn’t you spend some time with him after the mission was over and he returned to Heathrow Airport?” Rees presses.

  “Yes, Sir. After we escaped Heathrow just before the blast hit, me and the Special Forces men found ourselves in a cottage with him in Devon to regroup. I spent a couple of nights at the cottage with the SF guys before we left to report back for duty. All of us were in a bit of shock after the events in London and needed some R and R. Captain Richards spent most of the first night and the next day recovering and then we left the next morning.”

  “Didn’t you have dealings with Richards through Colonel Reed beforehand?”

  “No, Sir. Colonel Reed’s arrangement with him and Orion Securities was unknown to me, Sir. The two men dealt with each other directly, without my knowledge,” Winters tells Rees. This statement is all but true; Winters knew of Orion Securities. He had heard Colonel Reed mention Andy Richards and had heard him talking to him on the phone on occasion, but what those discussions were about, Winters didn’t know at the time.

  “I see… Did you talk to him much at the cottage?” Major Rees continues, like a dog with a bone.

  “Only small talk, Sir, nothing of significance,” Winters lies. The two men had had some quite in-depth conversations after the barbeque and over a few beers on the second night. Richards had told Winters of his thoughts to try and ensure the safety of his family. One of those thoughts was to leave the country, possibly to try to get to America. Those discussions were between the two men, however, and not for sharing.

  “Do you think Captain Richards will be a willing subject?”

  “To a point, Sir. It depends on what you plan to subject him to,” Winters tells Rees, wondering what the Major actually has planned for Richards.

  “Good, I’m sure Captain Richards will have no objections to the tests we will be carrying out.”

  Winters is suddenly very dubious about what is planned at the hospital and wonders how far the military doctor’s remit goes concerning Richards. Winters has a nose for smelling deceit and there is a definite aroma rising in the helicopters hold.

  Thankfully, Major Rees’s interrogation ends there, and Winters sits back in his seat to ponder their conversation. His eyes begin to wander around the hold with a newfound suspicion. Three of the other seats in the six-berth hold are occupied by what Winters had assumed were Major Rees’s medical team, but now he looks at the men differently. Winters decides that at least two of the men could be from a team of a different nature entirely, possibly a Special Forces team even. He also begins to eye the single empty seat in the hold, which suddenly seems to have Andy Richards’ name written all over it.

  Winters peers out of the hold window as he questions the whole trip and why he is on this helicopter. Is he just here as a familiar face to put the military’s target, Captain Richards at ease so that they can seize him, or are they are just going to carry out some routine tests? Winters tries to tell himself he is overthinking it and is turning it into a conspiracy, but unfortunately, he knows the military far too well to fully convince himself of that.

  The helicopter closes in on a tall slender chimney standing next to a large building that is itself surrounded by other buildings. Winters guesses that the chimney is the outlet for Derriford Hospital’s incinerator and pinpoints their destination. He is correct, and the pilot takes them down towards the chimney and Winters soon makes out the exact destination of the helicopter, a helipad, mounted a short distance away from the main building.

  Touching down with ease, the pilot kills the engines, and his co-pilot quickly jumps out of the front of the helicopter to open the door for the Major. Winters waits until all the other passengers have retrieved their luggage and exited the cabin before he moves from his seat. Following the other men off the helipad, Winters idly wonders where the actual air ambulance will land if it comes in with a medical emergency.

  Winters’ idle thoughts are quickly overridden by his brain trying to work out how he is going to play this out. He understood he was on the mission with Major Rees to assist the Major while he carries out his tests on Andy, tests Andy has agreed to. He wouldn’t be helping him medically; as far as he is concerned; he is here to iron out any nonmedical issues they run into, that is his speciality after all. But what if the Major’s remit does go further than standard and innocent tests, what does he do then? What if Major Rees decides he needs to perform more sinister and invasive tests on an uncooperative patient, or worse, decides that the patient needs to be relocated for the tests to be carried out? After all, Winters knows full well that Andy would not agree to be relocated, certainly not without his family. Andy may agree to extra tests, even invasive ones, but leaving his family, no, that would turn nasty.

  Winters follows the ‘medical’ team in through a
side entrance and into the hospital, where they are met by a middle-aged woman, presumably a doctor due to the fact she is wearing a white medical coat. The smell that can only be replicated by other hospitals wafts into Winters's nostrils at which point he makes a decision. He will do all that he can to assist Major Rees, even going as far as helping him convince Andy to undergo whatever tests the Major needs to carry out, within reason.

  If, whatever happened to Andy’s metabolism after he was scratched can help ease or even eradicate the infection, then perfect. Winters is sure Andy would be the first in line to volunteer and help find a cure, even if it did mean pain and discomfort. But if attempting to find a cure, which might not even be contained inside Andy means unacceptable procedures or experimentation or detaining Andy against his will, then that is where Winters will draw the line. He is not here to help Major Rees iron out those kinds of actions.

  “Has Captain Richards checked in yet, Doctor Wilson?” Rees asks their welcoming committee.

  “Not as of yet, Sir. Unless he arrived after I left the department but it’s probably a bit early,” Doctor Wilson answers.

  “Good, then we have time to prepare. Please lead the way Doctor,” Rees asks.

  The doctor turns and heads straight down a long corridor, directly in front of them. Rees notices that Lieutenant Winters has become distant since the conversation they had before landing. He didn’t say a word after and has been hanging at the back of their group ever since. He wonders if the conversation has raised Winters suspicions on why they are here.

  Raised suspicions or not, if Winters has any qualms or objections to the actions they are going to be forced to take, then he had better stow them away and follow orders; this is no time for pussyfooting around. The information retrieved from Sir Malcolm’s safe, whilst promising, has yet to deliver any tangible results. And even with the endless funds and extensive research the authorities are putting into that information, any vaccine or treatment to stop the infection could be years, if not decades away.