Eximus

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Eximus Page 8

by Marcus Wearmouth


  Logan noted the pile of cookies by Caspar’s right arm. Compensation for another vice?

  “Project Melbourn,” Rich said, draining his water. Logan muttered the same along with the others.

  “I want to have a recap on why we’re here,” Caspar said, hand holding a cookie. “I’m sure you’re all aware of last night’s riot. Jason?”

  “It was a demanding night. We were caught out at Niagara Square by a terrorist attack,” Jason said, his voice even and sentences clipped.

  “Did you lose many soldiers?” Heather asked.

  “Too many. At the moment we can keep a lid on the unrest. But we’re getting stretched, losing good soldiers for deployment elsewhere. My own senior officer has been seconded permanently from today. I have a feeling that certain people are being saved and hidden until after there’s a crisis.”

  “What do you think will happen?” Caspar asked.

  “In the past, our troops were stretched across the world,” Jason said, laying his arms on the table.

  The soldier showed an honest and open posture. He didn’t have anything to hide unless it was a strategy to fool them into a false sense of security. Logan took a sip of coffee and listened.

  “The Russia, China, Iran coalition is the greatest threat our forces have ever encountered. However, we can’t keep control of international hot zones with growing domestic unrest. We’re losing the global war to fight ourselves. It is the view of many respected analysts that war is inevitable.”

  “What are we doing about it?” Fox asked.

  “We are the collective enemy of them all Mr Fox. There’s nothing we can do other than negotiate. That, as I’m sure you all know from the news, isn’t going well.”

  “To put it mildly,” Rich added, along with a head twitch.

  Logan watched Caspar chewing on his cookies and nodding at the discussion. He glanced across at Logan and gave him a smile.

  “Can we contain the unrest at home?” Heather asked.

  “There are monthly explosions in labs, research facilities and corporation offices. Theft and sabotage across the country. Even civil war could be within touching distance.”

  “You paint a bleak picture,” Caspar said. “Unfortunately, I have more bad news. Doctor Sarin.”

  “I’ve informed most of you already that nanos within each of us are now inert. This development has been unofficially confirmed to me by fellow medical professionals. I expect an announcement in the next twenty four hours.”

  Jason stood and his chair flipped back onto the floor. “That’s impossible, there’ll be a bloodbath.”

  “Darling, do you need any more drinks?” Sally poked her head around the door, glancing nervously at the fallen chair.

  “Anyone?” Rich said, surveying the quiet room. “No we’re fine.”

  “I’m going to bed.”

  “Of course. Goodnight,” Rich said, his head nodding in his trademark fashion.

  “Good night Sally,” Logan called.

  Rich rubbed his chest then took a sip of water.

  “It will be much worse than that Captain,” Rich said, straightening his pad so it was square with the table. “I would like to start with a small history lesson, leaving out any moral or fiscal arguments, so you are fully informed on the gravity of the situation.”

  Jason looked impatiently at Caspar but took his seat. “Make this brief doctor.”

  “Please continue Rich,” Caspar said.

  “On December 21st 2012, the first injection of nanos was carried out to combat a specific virus,” Rich said, steepling his hands. “Despite initial success, the nanos lacked the capability of sustained operation. They were modified and improved over the next years until they were successfully used to prevent any virus from harming the human body. Since 2025, almost everyone above the age of twelve has received a nano injection.”

  “We know the history doctor, what can we do about it?” Jason said. He looked ready to spring up at any moment.

  “I’m getting to that,” Rich replied. “From a medical perspective this has challenged our profession through successive reduction in our influence on human behavior. Chronic illnesses due to alcohol and drug abuse have increased, even nanos cannot regenerate cells. The most concerning aspect of nano influence is that after only five years our immune systems have been weakened, and cannot function without them.”

  “Surely there are back up plans?” Heather asked.

  “Nano research has been more closely monitored than any other scientific breakthrough in history. They were designed to continue working indefinitely using decaying atoms.”

  Logan perked up at the mention of atom decay. He racked his brain for a memory of nano battery power. Some form of thin radioactive material.

  “So a complete failure suggests an outside influence.” Caspar asked.

  “Precisely. We now face three problems.” Sarin said, pausing to take three long gulps of water. “One, an over confidence in nanos has caused careless treatment of bodies. Two, a weakened immune system. Three, a reduced medical profession. In short we have reduced both our resistance to disease and our capacity to treat it.”

  “Can you all appreciate the significance of this?” Caspar added.

  “We are on the verge of a cataclysm. There’s not enough medicine or medical staff to treat people,” Rich said.

  “The present situation is irreversible. Caspar said, eyes scanning their faces. A combination of global conflict, pandemic and natural disasters will inevitably push the world to apocalypse.”

  The room fell silent as those gathered absorbed the information. The US was trapped in a blind alley with the walls closing in. Logan drained his coffee and placed the cup down.

  “I don’t think you need to over emphasize.” Heather said. “We’re all here for the same reason.”

  “I appreciate that Heather,” Caspar replied. “But what we are proposing to do is the impossible. Retro fit a salt mine for the safety of hundreds of people. Timing it right to avoid detection and trusting everyone we bring in. The actions you will all take following this meeting will change your lives forever.”

  “There are so many variables,” Logan said. “We need to prepare individual reports and merge them into a working document. Otherwise we risk failure due to a missed screw.”

  “I’m afraid the time for desktop studies and planning documents has passed.” Caspar replied. “We must proceed on the basis of these meetings and rely on the expertise of the people in this room.”

  “Caspar, I need to leave,” Jason said, rising again and pushing back his chair.

  “Can you complete your report and I’ll brief you on others tomorrow.”

  “Apologies everyone, I’ll have to make this short. Jason said. “The briefing is for people in this room only. I warn you that if it becomes public, then I will withdraw from the project and stand in your way.”

  “Understandable, the same goes for all. Please continue,” Caspar said.

  “A detachment of fifty soldiers are briefed, in principle, on the mission. I’ve excluded absolute detail as ‘need to know’. They’re loyal and trusted men, with the requisite experience to provide a security force.

  Jason’s matter of fact commentary held the room with an authority. He had as much or arguably more to lose than anyone. They would be lucky to have someone this disciplined to rely on. A man like Jason would give them all strength and a focal point.

  “They have each been promised places for immediate family members only. A total of one hundred and twelve people. We’ll need a separate barracks area and armory. We’ll be arranging rations and equipment for the soldiers to compliment your plans.”

  “Will you be bringing additional weapons?” Caspar asked.

  “I can’t comment on the exact nature of weapons. It will be my intention to secure a significant amount of small arms and explosive material.”

  “How many ration boxes?” Fox asked.

  “Again Mr Fox, I cannot go into s
pecifics, the rations we have will complement your supplies. Don’t rely on me to provide general rations.”

  “Thank you Jason, if there are no more questions?” Caspar said, addressing the room.

  Jason nodded and left the room, pulling out a radio as he disappeared along the hallway.

  Chapter 7

  Avery walked through watercolor shades of brown and green in a silent forest. Hazy, smoky air speared by sunlight poked through the tree canopies. Scents of pine trees, aromatic flowers and earthy vegetation reminded her of a childhood holiday.

  The pine trees thinned out as she approached a grassy ledge. In all directions, the forest spread out like a green carpet. Below her, the land appeared scooped out by a giant spoon. A periwinkle colored lake curved in a kidney shape, bordered by jagged white rocks and thick trees. Sunlight glinted on the smooth glassy water.

  A figure broke the calm surface, swimming in frantic jerky strokes. She resisted an urge to call out as it swam closer and closer towards her. The figure stopped swimming and looked up, only her head and shoulders visible above the water. Avery took a step back as she recognised her own face. A mirror image but her eyes and mouth were missing.

  She jerked awake. A throbbing headache and dry mouth marked her first morning in the bunker. Her pillow was wet. She touched her puffy eyes and blinked to clear them.

  The dull headache lingered in her temples, even after a shower and glasses of water. She massaged her head taking deep breaths. Probably an adjustment in air pressure. In the wardrobe, uniform and sports kit hung in neat rows. Selecting a blue sweatshirt and joggers, she dressed then tied back her hair and eased on a pair of black trainers.

  Dark liquid trickled out of the silver nozzle of the coffee machine. Fresh coffee aroma made it feel more like a new home. It splattered into her waiting cup. She blew the top then took a small sip of the burning brew.

  The accommodation was silent, no television or music. No traffic, birds or faulty plumbing to keep her company. Sitting on the sofa, she ate a chicken sandwich, sipping coffee between mouthfuls. A peaceful morning in her new role, if it wasn’t for the headache she would be purring like a kitten.

  Flicking on her flexi screen, she scanned the list of contents and selected the folder marked; Personnel.

  Executive Order 15656

  Assignment of Orders for Regional Command Bunker

  National security is dependent upon our ability to assure continuity of government at every level. Regional Command Bunkers are assigned the responsibility for civil defense and any other function assigned to them by the National Security Council. These orders provide a framework for the systematic listing of responsibilities and information on resource required by Base Commander Twenty Two. This plan is compiled as a complete document but the following plans are complementary to it:

  Base Commander Twenty One Base Commander Twenty Three

  Executive Officer Twenty Two Executive Directive Five One.

  At a time to be confirmed, the facility will lock-down on communication silence for a period of two years. Under no circumstances can any physical or non physical communication be transmitted or received during lock-down. It is strictly prohibited for any person/s to exit the bunker during lock-down.

  Base personnel are specifically selected based on their individual experience and skill sets. These skills will require continual review and supplementary training over the two year lock-down.

  Massaging her temples, Avery began to decipher the organizational structure.

  Her command team consisted of both military and scientific department heads. There were fifteen squads of soldiers, each led by a Lieutenant, Sergeant and Corporal. The Lieutenants reported to one of three Captains, all of whom reported to the Major Daniels, Head of military. The name was unfamiliar. This was her area of expertise so Daniels would need to be more than competent.

  Weapon specialists responsible for maintenance and storage also report to Daniels.

  An unfamiliar alarm sound broke her concentration. The visual door pad flashed in tandem with the sound. Avery sprang over and placed her hand on the pad.

  The door opened to reveal a saluting soldier. “Commander, I’m Private Ringo, your aide. Captain Matos asked me to escort you to the Command Centre at zero seven hundred hours.”

  Ringo was a slight man with a large face. Smooth wide forehead, large brown eyes and a hooked nose. His finger nails were dirty and boots were scuffed.

  “Let me get changed and you can show me around.”

  Avery followed Ringo through a warren of corridors and doors in the accommodation block. The area was alive with the buzz of muted conversations, laughter and music. Fresh odors of soap and shampoo mingled with coffee and toast.

  Ringo explained the color coding in more detail, while Avery returned salutes from passing soldiers. She tried to fix faces and name badges in her memory. They all looked the same, dressed in olive green T shirts and heads shaved to stubble. The females only discerned by the swell of their breasts.

  Avery turned at the sound of a wolf whistle from a room to her left. Through the open door, a naked man stood staring at her, his face twisted in an ugly leer.

  “Ringo, find me a Sergeant,” Avery said, headache beginning to throb.

  A uniformed sergeant, not much older than Ringo, materialized behind him.

  “Take that man upstairs, as he is, and make him run,” Avery said.

  She turned without another word and led Ringo to the stairs. On level two, a neat black sign above white double doors marked the Command Centre.

  Ringo held a door open for Avery and she entered. The large room was like a headquarters battle command. Lights flashed, screens shone and people moved about with purpose. A large blue screen dominated the opposing wall with an oval table in the centre of the room. To the left and right were double bays of workstations. Set out in a raised horseshoe facing the screen.

  Avery wandered around the room, taking in details of weapons, communications and radar stations. Sitting at the oval table, she faced the blank screen. Although she had trained and led soldiers for twelve years, this was an entirely new experience.

  “Commander, welcome.”

  Ringo remained by the door but moved sideways, allowing Matos into the room.

  “Morning Captain.”

  “I’ve had the comms line with HQ configured,” he said, walking towards a workstation on the right hand side.

  “Can we contact them?”

  “We have a secure line, but lockdown rehearsal yesterday detected a fault. Techs have been working on it for the last few hours.”

  The screen turned blue then flashed white. A trill tone accompanied the changing colours.

  “That’s the connection request,” Matos said.

  A female Captain, dressed in blue uniform, appeared on the screen. She sat behind a bare brown table, surrounded by a sterile white background.

  “Receiving you sector twenty two,” she said.

  “This is Commander Avery, confirming command and operational activation.”

  “Good morning Commander. I trust you’ve had a pleasant induction?”

  “I understand you’re our liaison officer.”

  “Affirmative Commander, Captain Rodeen. I’ll be with you until lockdown.”

  There was a pause in their brief conversation. Rodeen appeared to offer no more than asked.

  “When will the remainder of my staff be arriving?”

  “I would expect the vast majority within seven days.”

  “And lockdown?”

  “Your orders remain the same. Take control of the facility and commence organizational inception,” Rodeen said, she glanced away from the screen for a moment. “If that is all Commander?”

  “Yes, sector twenty two out.”

  The image faded and screen color turned from blue to black. Captain Rodeen was a cold fish. Their brief conversation held nothing but a greeting. Perhaps Rodeen was a ‘by the book’ type.

 
She wasn’t feeling her best today with this damn headache. Under the table, Avery realized her right hand was massaging the pinkie finger on her left hand. Pulling it away she rose to leave the room.

  Outside, a group of new arrivals entered from the staircase. The overwhelmed group glanced around with nervous faces. Rucksacks over their shoulders, bags clutched in their hands and suitcases pulled on wheels. A sergeant leading the group pointed and explained the levels layout.

  “This is the head of our facility, Commander Avery,” the sergeant said.

  Avery returned their half hearted salutes and gestured for the tour to continue.

  A major detached from the group and offered Avery his hand. “I’m Major Kaya.”

  Some men can fill the space around them with charisma. Kaya was not one of them. He stood with hunched shoulders, biting his nails. He was tall with a slim build and a slightly scarred but otherwise friendly face. They shook hands and on closer inspection she realized he was older than expected. Well past forty, his eyes wrinkled at the corners with deep bags below.

  “Major Kaya, I was unaware you were arriving today. I would have sent an escort.”

  “No need for a fanfare, I’m pleased to finally meet you,” Kaya said, his Deep South accent a smooth drawl that gave him an easy going charm.

  “I’ll let you get settled in. We have a department head briefing at three.”

  “Of course Commander,” Kaya said, shuffling away towards the induction group.

  Matos guided Avery around meeting and training facilities close to the command centre. They interrupted an NBC course in a small rectangular training room. Three columns of seated soldiers faced a central desk and projector screen. Their sergeant, a lean and tough looking woman, paused as they entered. Avery gave a gesture to carry on and the Sergeant began chewing out instructions. A lieutenant leaned against the wall behind the Sergeant, his eyes fixed on the soldiers.

  Matos closed the door and Avery offered him a raised eyebrow. His eyes darted to Ringo before he turned and led them away.

 

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