by M. W. Duncan
Gemma quickened her pace and reached Williamson before Eric.
“Ben, we’ve found something you need to see!” She reached into her knapsack.
Williamson looked directly to Eric, his expression neutral, and if Eric guessed correctly, it was a face full of worry.
“Eric, a word.” Williamson did not break his pace, instead marched out the front door tugging at his ill-fitted coat.
Gemma stood with hands on hips. “I don’t believe it.”
“Make sure George’s allocated a room,” instructed Eric. “I’ll catch up with you when we’re done.”
He ventured after Williamson. For a moment, he could not find his boss, but fresh tracks in the snow led him to the far side of the car park, away from anyone, alone in the white. The lights of the airport flickered through the snow. A small fleet of ploughs worked tirelessly to keep the runways clear. The wind died down, bringing a late afternoon calm despite the snowfall.
“Was it really necessary to come out in the snow? I’ve just got back.”
Williamson did not turn to look at Eric. “I’ve spent more days than I care to remember glued to computers and telephones, meals taken at a desk, sleep snatched when I can. Sometimes it’s just pleasant to take some fresh air and remind yourself that the world is still turning.”
“Even when it’s below freezing?”
“Eric, just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, another worry is heaped upon me.”
“What’s happened?”
Williamson said nothing for a time.
“I’ve brought the girl back. She found something in the city she thinks could be linked to the outbreak.”
Williamson turned to Eric, breaking his reflective mood. “I’ll review it soon. But our problems don’t directly concern the events here in Aberdeen. About an hour after you left I received a call from Doctor Eugene Holden.”
“I’ve not seen or heard of him since we pulled him out of here. Where did you send him?”
Williamson blew out a sigh. “I didn’t tell you where I put him because you didn’t need to know. Eric, I find myself in the unfortunate situation where the number of people I trust has shrunk to a handful. You’re one of them. Holden was moved to one of our facilities, a research centre specifically converted to tackle the Carrion Virus. He painted a bleak picture of the work that’s going on there, the conditions they’re working in. He expressed a fear for his safety. He suggested the research there is immoral, even evil.”
“You believe him?”
“The doctor is beyond reproach. A few weeks ago I was made aware of a group called The Owls of Athena. I don’t know who they are, or what they do, but I know they exist.”
“How?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
“Are you sure I’m one of the few people you trust?”
“My apologies. I’m facing the very real situation that I’ve lost elements of my company to these people. I no longer know what’s happening. I remain the majority owner of Black Aquila, but I can’t trust what our branches are doing.”
Williamson was full of emotion. Eric understood. Williamson was the king on the mountain who realised everything in his kingdom was not as it should be.
“What does Holden want?”
“He wants to be extracted, he and a few others.”
“So I go get him?”
“Eric to do that …” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “… to do that we may have to break some rules. The guards stationed there are Black Aquila.”
“And you can’t or won’t trust them?”
“I can order them to stand down, but if the order doesn’t get through …”
“We’ll be dropping into a battle?”
“Potentially, yes. We’ve slipped from the understood world of black and white, into the murky beyond. Whatever follows will be dangerous and illegal.”
“Worse than what we’ve dealt with already? Ben, what happened in Aberdeen was nothing short of murder. When the infected became too much to control they were exterminated. We’re all damned already. Holden might be the key to unlocking the virus. We can’t abandon him.”
“I’ve always held the reins of the company tight, Eric. I’ve managed everything myself, held investors at arm’s length. I don’t know what’s next for Black Aquila.”
Eric placed a hand on Williamson’s shoulder. The man was trembling.
“We should head inside, Ben. We need to prepare.”
“I’ll organise clearance for our bird. Bring back Holden and any of his staff he deems worthy. Follow me. You should see this.”
They returned to the hotel, and made their way through the busy reception, toward the rear of the hotel, out of sight of the public area. Williamson pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked a sturdy door.
“Close it behind you,” he said, stepping into the room beyond.
Eric did as instructed. The room was some kind of secure lockup, perhaps for valued goods. On the floor sat two equipment crates. Williamson popped the lid of the first one letting it slip to the floor. Inside a supply of ten MP5s, a stock of magazines for each weapon and spare ammunition.
Eric took a step closer. Williamson stocking lethal weapons? They were not in a war zone, it was the streets of the United Kingdom. “How can this be?”
“We needed to be prepared for all eventualities. You knew it could come to this. Either the infected would grow so dangerous or resilient that they would need to be tackled with lethal force.”
As much as Eric wanted to argue, he knew a dog should not question his master.
“Wheels up in thirty minutes. Get your team ready, brief them en route. Bring Holden back, then we’ll talk.”
***
Holden placed the satellite phone on his desk. Jane looked up from where she sat, alert at the suddenness of the noise. The second call to Williamson went better than the first. Two and a half hours was the ETA of their rescue.
“He’s sending a team led by a very competent soldier, Eric Mann. He agrees that we need to be outside the perimeter to be rescued.”
“We go through with the plan then. Have you selected one of the infected?”
Holden nodded. “Infected seventy-six. As much as I wish we had an alternative, we’ll release some of his restraints. That gives us thirty minutes to get outside and find Eric. Williamson said to move east.”
“We’re doing this then. For real?”
“Yes, Jane. We are.” Their plan burned at his moral core, but he only needed time for Jane and him to escape. Nobody needed to get hurt, just scared into distraction.
***
Jane supervised Holden loosening the wrist restraints of Infected seventy-six. He was once a man, probably quite handsome before the infection took hold. The infected’s legs were still held tight. Jane pulled the mouth guard free, its teeth snapped after her hand.
They made their way to Hyde’s office, the only place they were sure nobody would look for them, and pulled on their winter layers.
This was a final throw of the dice, a desperate gamble that would either liberate them, or … well, the consequences did not bear thought.
“I’ll check the door.” She opened the door a fraction, knelt down and watched through the crack. “How much time do we have?”
“It’s only a matter of moments before someone realises his arms are free.”
“If nothing happens in the next three minutes then—”
A blaring alarm sounded. A wailing siren.
“That’s it!” Jane leapt to her feet. She was about to step through the door when Holden took hold of her arm.
“Not yet,” he warned.
As if Holden was blessed with the gift of foresight, a group of Black Aquila guards ran past, weapons ready. It would take a few minutes to run from Hyde’s office to the exit. Once free of the door, all they had to do was keep running east until salvation appeared.
Screams came from further down the corridor. Gunfire now, echoing through the narrow cor
ridors. A few shots, followed by shouting.
“Eugene, we should go now.”
More gunfire came. Holden pushed his glasses up to his forehead.
“Now! Go! Go!”
Holden swept out of the room, his boots clomping on the floor. Jane followed pulling closed Hyde’s office door. The doctor was slow. Jane grabbed for his arm to support his dash to the exit, but he pulled away.
They rounded the corner and up the few steps that took them to the exit. A figure, clad in black and rifle drawn stood before the door. Jon!
“Jane! Doctor Holden!”
Jane slowed her run, as did Holden, breathing hard.
“What are you doing? Why are you dressed like that?”
“Jon! You’ve got to help us. One of the infected broke its restraints,” said Jane. “It’s not safe for us to be here.”
“Some of the guards were sent to take it down. Wait here, and everything will be okay.”
More gunshots and shouting, this time closer. Jon pushed a finger to the earpiece he wore.
“There’s infected loose,” said Jon.
“What?” Holden shook his head. “That’s impossible. It must be a mistake.”
Jane pleaded, “You know we’re losing control, Jon. What are they saying? Every second we waste discussing this puts people in danger, innocent people. Please.”
He looked directly at Jane. “They’ve brought down one, but there’s more on the loose. They’re falling back from the labs.”
“You need to let us out, Jon. It’s not safe.”
Jon’s focus darted between Jane and Holden, and then down the hallway as if willing someone more senior than himself to appear and solve the issue.
“Jon,” said Holden, taking a step forward. “You know me, yes? You know what we’re doing here, the danger we have with the infected that are incarcerated here? If one of them has broken free, it won’t stay just one for long. The infection passes from infected to victim in a matter of minutes. If there was one, there could be dozens by now. You and your fellow guards don’t have the strength to contain this outbreak. You need to open the doors and allow the staff to exit. It’s the only way.”
“That’s not my orders, Doctor.” Perspiration gathered at Jon’s forehead.
“If you don’t open this door, Jon, the death of everyone in this facility will be on your hands. The clock is ticking.”
Jane took a step closer to Jon, her focus on his holstered sidearm. The time negotiating with him brought the chance of discovery or the infected reaching them ever closer. She would make a grab for it, if no other options were open to her.
“I should ask someone, make sure we’re doing the right thing.”
“Ask who, Jon? They’re all in there fighting. Open the door or we all die in the most horrible way.”
Jane reached out. The handgun was no more than a foot from her hand. “Jon, help us save lives.”
Jon took a step back, lowering his rifle. He clicked the button on his radio to transmit. “This is Jon. I’m opening the secure door to let survivors out of the facility.”
He waited for the response but none came.
“Screw this,” he muttered. “I didn’t sign up to keep people locked up like animals.”
He scanned his ID badge on the door opening the lock. The great hydraulics hissed into life. Jon pushed the door outwards, opening the facility to the winter.
“Go.” He pointed with the rifle out into the white.
“Come with us,” insisted Holden.
“I can’t. My place is here.”
“Don’t be so noble, Jon. Come with us. They know where the exit is.”
“My place is here. Now go, you’re wasting time.”
Jane embraced the guard. “Thank you.”
Holden and Jane started out into the snow, their hands raised to ward off the drift.
“One more thing,” called Jon. “There’s a second team of guards who operate on the outside, securing the perimeter. We don’t know them or how they operate.”
“What does that mean?”
“Keep your wits about you.”
Watchmen watching the watchmen? Holden paused in the drift, checking from side to side. He pointed to the left of the accommodation units.
“East!”
Jane waved her understanding and pulled her hood up, drawing the sides close. There was no path cut into the snow to guide them. They were left to trek through the banks of snow. Each step sank them down into the freezing depths. Jane, struggling enough aided Holden through the snow.
They passed the accommodation units, all windows dark, the buildings empty. To the rear of the buildings stood a large, chain fence topped with razor wire, taller than Holden by half. Jane reached out, grasping the cold metal in her hands and shook it. It rattled dislodging a dusting of snow.
“We need to find a way round, Eugene.”
Holden shook his head. “There’s no time for that. We need to go up and over.”
“It must be at least ten feet high. There’s no way we can go over.”
“There!” Holden pointed to a stack of empty pallets. “Drag them over, we can use them to climb up.”
Jane ran, taking long strides through the snow. She grappled with the wooden frames, pulling two of them to the base of the fence. Holden helped prop the pallets against the fence. Jane kicked out, the fence unyielding, moving inward only a fraction. Holden stripped off his coat, and with a throw like a fisherman casting a net, he launched the garment up and over a portion of the razor wire. The sharp blades snagged the material, holding it in place.
“You go first, Jane. Up and over.”
“You won’t get up without my help. Go first. And don’t give me any of that I’m a man, you’re a woman crap.” Jane looked behind. “Now, get up there.”
Holden also peered into the white. He nodded and scaled up the pallets. Jane moved behind, placing her hands on his rear, steadying the doctor in his ascent. Great gouts of steam rose on his breath. He pulled himself up, his body shaking. A groan of relief escaped as one leg headed over the razor wire. The coat protected him from serious laceration.
“Take my hand. I’ll pull you up. Quickly now, we’ve lingered here too long.”
Jane clambered up the pallets, one hand holding the fence for balance, the other grasping Holden’s offered hand. The doctor heaved, his arm shaking, hand as cold as the snow. Jane managed to drag herself to the summit. The addition of another body, caused the fence to wobble, and balance lost, they fell, Holden plummeting face first. Jane fell next, landing heavily.
The fall and the suddenness of the cold robbed her of breath. She pushed herself up, wiping snow from her face. Holden lay a few feet away, on his back, eyes cast to the colourless sky. The fence was on the boundaries of a forest, not particularly dense, but the trees were ancient, thick branches, devoid of foliage.
Jane pulled herself across to Holden. “Eugene? Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
“Just my pride,” said the doctor, wincing. “And my ribs.”
“Can you move?”
Holden held a hand to his side, his glasses slightly bent.
“I think so. Help me up, Jane.”
Someway off, dogs barked.
“You hear that?”
“Dogs,” agreed Holden.
“Maybe it’s a dog lost in the woods or something.”
They listened.
“No. There’s more than one. I think we’re being hunted by the other security team.”
“Why? How do they know we’re here?”
Holden checked his watch. “Eric and his men are due to arrive in less than ten minutes. We need to move.”
“You’ll have to do it without your coat. It’s stuck up there.”
“Then the faster I move, the warmer I’ll be.”
They ran as best as they could, feet sinking, injuries slowing the progress. The snow by the trees became less deep, the forest providing the earth some shelter. Holden’s breathi
ng became more audible, labouring to keep the pace Jane set. They moved on, not daring to halt. They cleared the small forest, and into open countryside finally. Holden stopped, his chest heaving, his entire body shivering uncontrollably.
Jane unzipped her own, pulled it off and wrapped it around Holden.
“I … can’t go on,” he gasped. “My chest feels like it’s about to burst.”
“Not much further. We can do it. I’ll help you. Together.”
“I’m slowing you down, Jane. There’s no sign of Eric yet. You can still make it. Go!”
The scene beyond would have been picturesque, Christmas card material. She had no idea where in Scotland she stood, or how close the nearest, populated centre was. If Eric was delayed and she took off into the unknown countryside it could be thaw until anyone found her body. If she stayed with Holden … well, the guards were an unknown factor.
“I’m not leaving you here to die, Eugene. We go together or we stay together.”
The cold whipped blades of ice into Jane, making her feel naked to the elements. The dogs were getting closer. Gruff voices carried on the wind.
Holden was done, in pain. Moving him could end him. Holden looked on the verge of passing out.
They rolled the dice and gotten double ones.
Holden sank down, rambling off apologies, when the roar of a low-flying aircraft ripped through the air. A black painted Chinook, the red emblem of Black Aquila blazing on the side.
Eric had come.
***
Ten men including himself, was all Eric could scrounge up. Carter, his first choice was not an option. Carter’s war on the Carrion Virus was over. He may very well have been one of the lucky ones, his ankle snapped to such a degree he would probably walk with a limp for the rest of his life. The entire team welcomed the instruction to be armed with live fire, MP5s and grenades, eager to be equipped with the better means.
Speeding over the frozen land in the Chinook felt like sitting in a meat freezer. With fingerless gloves, Eric rubbed his hands together, keeping his weapon tight between his knees. The Chinook dropped, a sudden movement. Eric grasped the sides of his seat. The ground raced up to meet them, the helicopter landing in a jarring motion. The great engines powered down. Eric unclipped his safety belt, moved to the controls and lowered the ramp. His team formed up behind, checking their weapons. All were dressed in thermal combat clothing, white to blend with the conditions.