“Who are you and what business is it of yours?” Catherine answers, her arms still crossed and appearing unfazed by the Major.
“I’m Major Stephen Rees. I was due to meet Captain Richards for his appointment at the hospital today. He didn’t attend his appointment, so I thought I’d drop by to see him, where is he?”
Catherine’s head turns slightly to look at Lieutenant Winters as if unsure what to say. The look is obvious, and Rees’s head begins to turn to look at Winters also. Winters’ bulging eyes and the faint shake of his head evaporate in the instant before Major Rees’s eyes fall on him. Winters, his nerves prickling, can only hope that Catherine saw his signal and thinks fast to divert the Major’s attention.
“Lieutenant Winters, I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again so soon.” Catherine’s words covering her look perfectly.
“I thought I’d tag along with the Major to see Andy at the hospital and to see how he got on,” Winters replies.
“That’s nice of you Lieutenant,” Catherine plays along.
“He didn’t turn up though, where is he?” Winters asks, knowing full well.
“I’m afraid he was called away suddenly on urgent family business. I told him to phone the hospital to tell them he couldn’t make the appointment, but it must have slipped his mind.”
“What family business?” Rees asks, his attention now back where it should be.
“Private family business, Major.” Catherine bats Major Rees’s question away.
“Ms Hamilton, I demand you tell me where Captain Richards is,” Rees snaps.
“It is none of your business, Major. But if you’d like to leave me your number, I will try and get a message to Andy to contact you as soon as he can.”
“That is not acceptable Ms Hamilton. I’m here in an official capacity and I need to speak to Captain Richards immediately,” Rees barks, edging forwards, losing his cool.
“If you need to speak to Andy urgently then I suggest you try and phone him, Major. Lieutenant Winters has his number,” Catherine replies coolly.
“He isn’t answering his calls, Ms Hamilton.”
“Then I can’t help you,” Catherine retorts.
“Are you sure he isn’t here, inside maybe?” Rees presses.
“He isn’t here. If he were, I wouldn’t be out here being interrogated. You are welcome to look.”
Rees turns and nods sternly at the two men with weapons under their jackets, who immediately step forward, towards the cottage’s front door.
“Just one moment, please,” Catherine says, stepping back towards the door and blocking the men’s path.
The two burly operators come to a sudden stop in their tracks, unsure what to do. They look at each other and then at the Major, foiled by the woman in front of them with the windswept hair.
Catherine leaves the two men where they stand and turns for the front door. “Girls, can you come outside for a minute please?” she shouts as she opens the door. Almost immediately, Emily and Stacey emerge from inside the cottage, both wearing their pyjamas and both obviously listening close by inside.
“Gentlemen,” Catherine says, when the girls are by her side, showing the men inside with one hand and an annoyed expression on her face.
The two men accept Catherine’s invitation to go in, even if they do so sheepishly.
“Are they looking for Dad?” Emily asks, looking up to Catherine.
“Yes, Emily, they are.”
“Well, they won’t find him in there, will they?” Emily remarks.
“No, no they won’t,” Catherine agrees.
“Silly men,” Emily says looking back towards the door, her pyjama legs flapping in the breeze.
Winters suppresses the grin that tries to spread across his face as he stands silently waiting. Rees, next to him, turns away from the front door to look at their surroundings, obviously realising that Richards isn’t inside the cottage.
“Captain Richards isn’t inside, Sir,” the men tell Rees as they come out empty-handed.
“If that will be all, Major? I don’t want the girls catching a chill,” Catherine asks, already edging back towards the cottage.
“When you speak to Captain Richards, please ask him to phone Lieutenant Winters immediately, Ms Hamilton,” Rees asks defeated.
“Of course, Major,” Catherine replies and goes back inside the cottage, ushering the girls in front of her.
The unannounced visitors are unceremoniously left stranded on the grass in front of the cottage, wondering what to do with themselves now.
“Back on board,” Rees orders defeated, for now.
Winters climbs back aboard leaving Rees to give his orders to the pilots. He presumes that Rees must be ordering them to fly them back to base. What else is there to do? Winters thinks. It was a close-run thing, but in the end, Rees met with a dead-end at the cottage.
“Are we heading back to base, Sir?” Winters asks Rees when he is back on board and just before he puts his headset back on.
“We are, Lieutenant, we just need to make a quick stop first,” the Major replies cryptically before he turns to his two men in windbreakers. “Sergeant, get your gear together. You will be dropped by the edge of town; get any supplies you need and then return to the cottage. Take up a position where you can observe the cottage and report back to me what you see. Richards might not have been inside, but he could be close by. Inform me immediately if he is, understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” the older of the two men confirms as the pilot starts the engines.
“Oh, and Sergeant. Don’t take Richards for granted, he is well trained and will probably be expecting company. Don’t make a move until you have my order.”
“Yes, Sir,” the Sergeant simply says again before he and his partner reach under their seats. Both men pull out generously sized and tightly packed army issue rucksacks, having come prepared.
Winters curses himself for not anticipating Rees’s move, but he doubts it will be of much consequence. He knows Andy is not close by, but the relevance of the men’s presence is likely to change as this plays out.
Following Rees’s orders, the pilot finds a field near the edge of Salcombe and brings the helicopter in to land. The area is more than enough distance away from the cottage for the helicopters landing to go unnoticed by the occupants of the cottage.
“Keep a low profile, Sergeant,” Rees reminds the two men before they grab their gear and pop open the cabin’s door.
Chilly air and bits of grass blow into the cabin when the door is opened. The pilot doesn’t stop the helicopter’s engines while the two men disembark, jumping down onto the grass. The younger man slams the cabin’s door shut behind himself, cutting off the attack of wind and then he turns and runs, head down under the powerful, spinning rotors. As soon as the two men are clear, the pilot guns the engines and lifts the helicopter back into the air. Both the two men and the pilot are clearly well trained, as the helicopter was on the ground for no more than a minute.
Winters manages to watch the two men for a moment out of the window as the helicopter lifts off. Neither of them looks back at the helicopter as it leaves. They simply sling their rucksacks over their shoulders and march off in the direction of the town before they disappear into the darkness.
Tongues will be wagging in town, Winters thinks as the pilot flies right over the town centre, in the opposite direction to the cottage. He keeps flying in that direction for a couple of minutes before he brings the helicopter around on a new bearing, a bearing that will take them back to base.
“ETA, please?” Major Rees asks the two pilots.
“Approximately fifty minutes, Sir,” the co-pilot replies.
“Patch me through to General Cox, secure line,” Rees orders.
‘Yes, Sir,’ is the last piece of conversation Winters hears through his headset as the secure line is established with General Cox for the Major. After that, Winters’ headset goes silent, cut off from the conversation that he can see Rees ha
ving with the General, but cannot hear. That doesn’t bother Winters; he may not be privy to the conversation, but he can imagine what is being discussed. Winters takes the opportunity to close his eyes and get some rest for the remainder of the flight. He doesn’t get any sleep, but his headset cuts out a good proportion of the sound of the helicopter engines and he at least gets the chance to rest his eyes and do some thinking.
Chapter 9
Winters' eyes remain closed until he feels the pilot begin to bring the helicopter down. He isn’t sure how long Rees was talking to the General and he is pleased his headset remained silent for the entire journey. The silence gave him time to rest and to think, and it also meant there weren’t any probing questions put his way by the Major.
Ignoring Rees and his assistant next to him, who both look at Winters with disdain, Winters instead peers out of the window beside him. The light of the cabin reflecting in the window makes it difficult to see anything in the darkness outside. He leans forward and manages to block some of the cabin’s light so that he can get a partial view into the darkness.
Illuminated below are the buildings and roads of Porton Down, the top-secret and controversial, Ministry of Defence research facility. Situated just outside the town of Salisbury, it is probably the most top-secret site in the UK, both before and after the virus outbreak. Known for its chemical weapons research amongst other clandestine activities, the facility has always been a favourite source of material for ‘crackpot’ conspiracy theorists, peddling their wares on the internet. Nowadays, however, since the outbreak, those theories have moved into the mainstream media. There isn’t a day that goes by without Porton Down being mentioned on the news and quite often it is the subject of the headline story, which isn’t surprising in the slightest, considering.
Over recent years, Porton Down has tried to sanitise its reputation by expanding its scope and turning itself into a scientific community. Private companies have been encouraged to join the community and set up their own facilities in the immediate vicinity and this has been quite successful. Make no mistake, however, the core, military facility is still engaged in controversial research. The site is still considered top-secret and is treated as such, with all the overbearing security that comes with such a delicate site.
Hanging up his headset, Winters waits patiently for the door to be opened for the Major. Last out of the helicopter, Winters hangs his satchel over his shoulder and waits with the pilots and the other passengers to be invited through security.
In contrast to the swarms of helicopters and other air transport at Heathrow Airport, Porton Down only has a small heliport. There are three other helicopters parked on the ground adjacent to theirs, all of which are also of the executive type.
Somebody at least has learnt a lesson from the compromised Chinook that crash-landed at Heathrow and the catastrophic consequences it had for the airport—the airport eventually incinerated by a tactical nuclear strike. Surrounding the heliport, which has been moved well away from the sensitive main facility, is a freshly constructed tall masonry wall, built to contain any such ‘accidents’ at Porton Down.
Eyes peer down from the top of the wall behind heavy machine guns. The soldiers are poised, ready to unleash their firepower on any breach in security from incoming passengers. Winters only hopes that the soldiers are well trained and don’t have itchy trigger fingers.
There is only one entrance and exit built into the high wall, a heavy door with an enclosed security station standing next to it. All passengers must wait for the station to be staffed and then for a light mounted at the top of the station to turn from red to green before they can approach the exit.
Eventually, the light does flick from red to green and Major Rees leads the five men over to the security station.
“Identification,” a tired-looking woman in combat uniform demands from her first customer.
Rees hands over his military identification, placing it into a letterbox-sized hole cut into the thick Perspex fixed to the front of the station.
“Look into the camera,” the guard tells the Major without ceremony as she looks down to the counter in front of her to study Rees’s ID. Next, she peers at a computer screen mounted next to her on the counter, the screen indicating if the eye scan has been passed or if the person is infected.
“Clear, wait over there,” she then tells Rees, who looks none too pleased with her attitude. His disgust escalates when the woman says ‘next,’ and makes no attempt to hand Rees his ID back. Rees reaches forward to retrieve his ID, swiping it off the counter in anger before he turns away to do as he’s told.
All the men pass through security, and the woman does not attempt to touch any of the ID cards placed in front of her and Winters doesn’t blame her.
Her task complete, the woman disappears through a door in the back of the security station where it joins onto the wall. A minute or two passes, with the five men standing like lemons until the main door in the wall finally opens.
As Winters expected, waiting on the other side of the wall is their transport to Porton Down’s main facilities. The electric shuttle, much like you’d find at a large holiday resort complex to ferry guests around, is empty apart from their driver, the same woman who has just carried out their security check.
Winters doesn’t rush to take his seat, rather he waits until he sees where Rees is going to sit before he takes one. He finds himself at the front of the shuttle, right behind the driver, at the opposite end of the shuttle to Rees.
The journey is going to take some time, Winters knows that from the journey out to the helipad. He wobbles in his seat as they get underway, the track they follow wasn’t laid for small electric shuttles. Wire mesh, similar to chicken wire, encases the track and reaches up both sides and curls over the top of the track much like a tunnel. Bright lights lead the way, beyond which are grassed open spaces, undisclosed buildings, and darkness.
After trundling along for a good ten minutes, the shuttle stops next to a manned security door in the mesh. A sign attached to the mesh above the door tells the passengers that they have stopped at ‘Station 1’. The woman in front of Winters looks around to see if anybody is getting off. Nobody is and so she sets off again, without saying a word.
The two pilots who are sitting right behind Winters, chat quietly until they get off the shuttle at station 3a. There are three more stops until Winters is due to get off, unfortunately; he knows that Major Rees will also be disembarking at the same station. That station is the last on the line and is at the very heart of the MOD facility. There will be further security checks before the shuttle is permitted to move into that area of Porton Down. Winters longs to reach the area, because that is where the Mess Hall is sited and the hall will be his first port of call; he is beyond hungry.
“Final stop, all off,” the woman driver finally declares, as she stops at the last station, Porton Down Central.
ID’s are checked once again before the men are allowed to exit the wire tunnel and again, Winters is last through, despite his eagerness to get to the Mess Hall.
“With me, Lieutenant Winters,” Rees announces as he clears security.
“Sir?” Winters asks, his stomach protesting.
“General Cox is waiting to debrief us,” Rees tells him.
“Now, Sir?”
“Yes, immediately. Unless you have another urgent matter to attend to?”
“No, Sir. Very good, Sir,” Winters replies, hiding his frustration.
Porton Down Central is busy, probably with people heading to get their dinner, even though they’ve all had their fucking lunch, Winters curses to himself.
Rees, unconcerned by Winters’ hunger pains, turns and marches off in the direction of the newish office block that sits on the other side of the square, opposite to the shuttle drop off point they have just come through. Some of the buildings in Porton Down MOD site are modern, especially the ones in the central area where they are now. You don’t have to wander far, however
, to find the old brick-built buildings, some probably dating back to when the military first began their ‘testing’ on the site in 1916. Many of these old buildings are still in use and have an ominous feel to them, even if what goes on inside them is mundane.
The real sensitive MOD work goes on in areas of the site that Winters doesn’t have access to. He can only imagine what that part of the facility looks like from the ground. What he has seen of it, from the air, it looks nondescript, but flight paths are restricted above that area and so he has only glimpsed it from a very long distance away. Also, from gossip that he has heard, the majority of the sensitive facility is subterranean, but extensive nonetheless.
ID cards are inspected once again before Major Rees, his assistant and Winters are granted access to the building where General Cox’s department is housed. Winters is not looking forward to his debriefing by Cox, to the extent that he begins to get his story straight in his head as they travel through the oversized building.
Major Rees is invited into the General’s office before Winters, who takes a seat in the waiting area outside. He feels like a schoolboy waiting to be summoned in for a telling off by the school’s Headmaster. He eyes the General’s PA, another Lieutenant, who sits behind his desk near the entrance to the General’s office. The impeccably presented Lieutenant is younger than Winters. He reminds Winters of himself when he was first posted to become Colonel Reed’s assistant, which seems as though it was in another lifetime.
He takes the chance to go through his phone while he is waiting, first to see if he has any new messages and second to delete any incriminating evidence that might show that he has been in touch with Andy’s family or his associates. Winters realises that the process is futile, his phone records are readily available to his superiors if they decided to request them. It could, however, fool the Major and the General, if this time they call Winters’ bluff and order him to show them his phone.
“You can go in now, Lieutenant,” Winters is informed after about fifteen minutes of waiting, by the Lieutenant behind the desk.
Capital Falling | Book 4 | Sever Page 10