Chapter 15
"Why has Andrew got a photo of me Mr Craig?”
Anderson collected Hog after he had entered the Fort, and took him back to Knight’s office to replay the CCTV footage of the escaping Mutant.
"Damn he had bad breath," complained Hog, as they watched the Mutant sprint into the alley.
"Not supposed to kiss it," smiled Tom.
"Kiss my arse," retorted the giant Angel, unable to keep the grin from his face.
"Are you sure it's the same Mutant you described at Stevenage?” checked Knight.
Both Tom and Anderson nodded as Anderson replied, "No doubt what-so-ever, that’s it.”
"His name’s Andrew," came Hope's voice from behind them. No-one had heard her come into Knight’s office with Marisol, Anderson’s live-in housekeeper.
Seeing the confusion on Craig Anderson’s face at seeing them, Marisol spoke up, “You promised to take Hope for lunch Mr Anderson.”
Anderson tried to cover. “Yes, yes of course Marisol, I was um...I was just wondering where you both were," he lied.
Hope whispered out of the side of her mouth to Marisol, “He forgot.”
"No.......no really," defended Anderson, stepping forward. “I was just talking to Hog and Tom about it, ask them," he assured her, turning to wink at the pair.
"He never said a word to me," replied Hog, stony faced.
"Nope, not ringing any bells with me," followed Tom, shaking his head.
"Ok......It might have slipped my mind for a second," admitted Anderson, mouthing an obscenity at the pair before turning and kneeling down beside the child.
"It doesn't matter," giggled the child, throwing her arms around Anderson’s neck.
The security chief lifted her up and sat her on a stool that brought her to the same height as Anderson, Tom, Hog, Marisol and Knight as they sat down around the oval table.
"How did you know his name Hope?" asked Anderson.
The group watched as the child struggled with a tight pocket and pulled out a small fold over leather wallet that she placed on the table. “It says so on his driving card thing." She pointed.
"He gave you this?” frowned Tom, picking it up.
Hope gave an exaggerated nod.
Tom opened the wallet and studied the driving licence. "Andrew David Wilson," he confirmed. Flipping through the various see through holding sections, he came to a series of photos. Coming to one he suddenly stopped, his mouth dropped open as he passed the open wallet to Anderson.
The frowning FL security chief took it and studied the photo, looking from it to Hope several times before placing it down on the table.
"Why has Andrew got a photo of me Mr Craig?” asked the child.
#
On the outskirts of Warwick Castle, slightly to the south, was a tree covered mound. The Preacher had used it on more than one occasion for surveillance. On this one he was studying, through a set of Steiner Navigator Pro 7x50 Marine Binoculars complete with Compass, a convoy of vehicles being loaded by a large team of troops at the side of the Fort. He recognised a Pinzer, a Daf T45 troop carrier and an FV that he knew was Bruger’s choice of transport. He recognised Blade who climbed into the Pinzer that was taking lead in the convoy, then came the unmistakable swaggering muscle bound man who caused him to curse under his breath. Bruger was surrounded by four giant brutes who stuck to the man as if tied by invisible string. The Preacher found this strange as normally Blade would travel with his leader yet now it would appear that Bruger had a new guard. Had there been a shift in power he wondered? He pushed the fleeting thought from his mind for it held little interest to him, what did interest him was where this convoy was going. Climbing into his jeep he set off as the convoy left the safety of the stronghold, he would ensure he kept to a distance that allowed him to track the group but did not alert them to his presence. If he was right, they would be heading north to where Wishbone had told them was a secret base called "The Keep". Here he would find The Butcher. Then The Preacher would make himself known to this man, no...not a man, a monster. The Preacher had made an oath, an oath he intended to see through, it was that his face would be the last thing Bruger would see before he left this world.
#
Blade pushed along in his Pinzer, heading the convoy out of Fort Warwick. His eyes constantly flicked to the rear view mirror, at the Bulldog bowling along behind him, his thoughts fixed on wondering what Bruger was taking them into next with the trip to Scotland after a stopover at The Keep. He had tried to probe during the limited time he had spent with him but the man was giving away nothing. There was something, of that Blade was sure and something else he was sure of was that it would be like all of Bruger’s plans, outrageous with a total disregard for anyone but Bruger himself.
After forty minutes The Keep came into view. Had Blade not been preoccupied trying to second guess his leaders plans and still smarting from being placed second to Bruger’s new inner circle of guards, he might have noticed the occasional glint of sunlight off the windscreen of a vehicle over a mile behind them.
Boardman saw the convoy pull up at the front of The Keep. Last evening he had received a call from Karl Bruger during which Boardman had revealed to the FW leader his success in creating a Mutant by flushing it with blood from another Mutant. Bruger was jubilant for it would free them from the need for the child Hope and her blood, now his master plan could move forward, ‘Operation Vanquish’ could go ahead with full speed. Bruger then gave him a set of instructions and even enveloped in a haze fuelled by white lightning, found himself horrified at what he had been ordered to prepare for. Looking around him, he checked everything was in place. As he was finishing this mental check, the door to his lab burst open and Bruger swept in followed by his new four man security team. Blade made up the rear of the group, looking less than happy.
"So Jeremy, your good news came as quite a surprise.”
Blade found his mild interest at this impending good news overshadowed by his amusement as he watched Bruger swaggering around, his four shadows moving with him in a comical ballet. Who the hell, he thought, was going to attack him in Boardman’s lab. It spoke volumes on his leader’s state of mind that he would need them so close, even here. What happened next confirmed that state of mind.
#
In the safe waters of Long Island Sound, The Spirit of the Sea, an English cruise ship that had been caught in harbour at the time of the outbreak of the plague, lay at the dock side. Many of its crew still lived on board. The majority of the passengers, mainly British tourists, had disbursed into areas within Fort Hope resigned to the fact that they would never again see the shores of the UK or members of their families they had left behind. The quiet daily routine that had become a way of life on the Oasis class cruise ship, was shocked into action as a team of military personnel arrived within hours of the decision made by the President to send it on a mission of mercy to Southampton in the UK. Preparing the ship for its voyage had been estimated at a week. Wilson sent an order that it was to be on its way within 48 hours. The team he sent worked around the clock, and so it was that the floating city reaching 17 decks high and soaring72 metres above the water line fired up its massive engines. Within minutes, the 362 metres long goliath powered out of the Long Island Sound 42 hours after the President’s Order was issued. Six days later it would dock at Southampton and collect the first 10.000 of the British Pure to be relocated to America. The extra fuel tanks fitted ensured that there would be enough fuel for the return trip without having to rely on the UK end. Twice in that 42 hour period, contact had been made between the UK and The States to confirm arrangements, both countries agreed that with the amount of detailed planning put into place nothing could derail their evacuation plans. How wrong they were, so very wrong.
#
Bruger suddenly spun on his new four man team of bodyguards and pulled out his hand gun of the moment, a Magnum research BFR that was 11.75 inches long and held five .475 cartridges that would stop a bull
. "Back up," yelled the Fort Warwick leader.
The four men, each of them huge in stature, were initially stunned but as their brains assimilated what had just taken place began to shout and pace forward
Blade pulled out his 50 calibre Desert Eagle known as a Dezzie, purely on instinct, and paced up beside Bruger, bringing the threatening four to a halt, although the threats and obscenities continued to pour out of the four angry bodyguards.
Boardman moved quickly behind the group to open one of the holding cells, ducking his head as each new expletive burst through the lips of the furious troops as if it were a physical attack on him.
"Get in," screamed Bruger, his eye's wide, the wild smile on his face scaring even Blade who kept snatching quick glances to his crazed leader.
"You wanna tell me what the hell you’re doing Karl?" shouted Blade to be heard above the boiling cauldron of shouting and screaming filling the air.
As the four reluctant men backed into the cell and the door was slammed locked, Bruger slipped the magnum back into its underarm holster and turned to Blade. "Time you heard about Jeremy's news.”
Boardman stepped forward and for the next ten minutes he spoke about his discovery of creating a Mutant by taking a WD and flushing its damaged body with blood taken from an existing Mutant, effectively replacing all 9 pints with Mutant blood. Then he detailed how he had injected the cocktail he had developed and surgically implanted into its ear the receiver through which he had played the specifically orchestrated dialogue dictated by Bruger so that the Mutant would react only to Bruger’s voice.
Bruger, Blade and the four men in the cell watched the scientist place a small headset on his head which had a small mic on a flexible arm that he bent around to sit just in front of his mouth. They tracked the scientist as he walked to a large steel door at the side of the holding cell and punched a number into the electronic key pad. A metallic click indicated the lock had disengaged. Boardman stepped into the room and spoke. “Stand up and come out.”
Boardman backed out allowing the Mutant to enter the large lab area. The impact was just as Boardman had hoped for, and this was clear from the expressions on the faces of Bruger and Blade. He had had the Mutant washed and cleaned, dressed in fresh camouflage trousers, a clean tight fitting olive green vest that showed off an impressive physique and highly polished Highlander Ranger Assault boots. In every way he looked the epitome of a first rate soldier, everything that was until you got to the face. That’s where it changed, for no one could miss the pale skin, the soulless bloodshot eyes and the flaring of the nostrils as the Mutant filtered the air, taking in the aroma of Pure flesh that caused involuntary low growls as it curled back its lips, telling of a remarkable control over its base instincts to attack, to feed.
"Wait a minute," snapped Bruger suddenly. "You instructed the Mutant, he reacted to your voice," his tone was an accusation, a warning.
"It was your voice," assured Boardman quickly. "This," he indicated with a tap on the headset and mic, “is a synthesizer that copies the tones, pitch and every component part of your voice and converts mine so that when it reaches the Mutant’s earpiece it believes my voice is yours.” Boardman could see the multiple questions in Bruger’s eyes. "It means you can have commanders in the field of battle and control them to control squads of Mutants from your command centre."
"How could I do that?" asked Bruger, his voice becoming husky.
Boardman pressed a remote, turning on the huge Sony Bravia 85 inch flat screen TV attached to the wall of the lab. It calibrated to show the training yard at the back of The Keep where Bruger had spent many hours working with his Mutant army created by Boardman. The stunning HD image showed Bruger’s complete Mutant army, all 220 were standing to attention in four tight groups, each group had a different colour vest on making them easy to identify and each vest was numbered to match the tattoo each Mutant had tattooed on the back of its neck.
"These images are being beamed via a drone which I can control via this remote." Boardman took two steps to a table and picked up a small unit. Working the controls, he demonstrated the control he had on visual aspects of the Mutants. Settling for an overhead position he went into a well-practiced routine. "Blue squad, two steps forward." The reaction was immediate as the 55 Mutants moved as one. "Red squad face down on the floor." Reaction immediate, Boardman even split away individual Mutants. "Blue 64 go right, yellow 157 join green squad." For fifteen minutes Boardman weaved the magic of possibility for Bruger, of potential power and control.
Bruger beamed throughout, suddenly he could see himself as a great General commanding legions of Mutants, moving great armies with strategic military judgements to win great battles. Suddenly his dream to become the greatest conqueror the world had ever known was becoming a reality. Pacing to Boardman, he clapped a giant paw onto his shoulder. "Jeremy you are a genius, a genius. You have my sincere gratitude for your work and your loyalty.”
Boardman decided to test that gratitude. “My pleasure Karl.”
Blade watched, waiting for the withering glance from Bruger, only he called Bruger by his first name, only he had earned that right.
Bruger moved closer to Boardman.
Blade smiled. Here it comes, he thought.
Bruger embraced the scientist in an enveloping bear hug. "You opened the door to the world for me Jeremy, and together we will step through.”
Boardman watched Blade over Bruger’s shoulder, saw the anger in his face, saw the realisation that he was now lower in the pecking order and that felt good, that felt very good.
"What about these four?" cut in Blade, his annoyance transparent.
Bruger released Boardman from his grip and turned, still smiling, towards the four men handcuffed to the cell bars. "Ah yes, I'd almost forgotten about them." The FW leader swaggered over to face the four unhappy troopers. "It's like this Blade," he explained, locking eyes with the group but continuing to answer Blade. "I told Jeremy that I wanted to see his new process in action, all we need is some WDs. Step forward," snapped Bruger to the Mutant to his left.
Blade watched the light of realisation flare up in the eyes of the four terrified men, then the pleading started, the screams for mercy, each of them flinging themselves backward trying to pull their hands inside of the cell to safety, the skin on their wrists tearing as the cuffs dug in.
"Bite," ordered Bruger.
Chapter 16
"I think he's gonna jump"
Anderson had to study the photo closely. "It's not you Hope, but it's a little girl who looks very much like you.”
"That explains a lot," suggested Tom.
"She's pretty," said Hope, taking the photo from Anderson.
"You think that’s why he protected Hope?” asked Hog.
Anderson stood as he considered the question, his head slowly shaking. "No, no I don't Hog. There has to be something else about this Mutant that we are not aware of, something unusual."
"Have to agree with that," added Tom. “But Hope's likeness to that child has to factor in somewhere."
"He has a number," said Hope in her sing song voice, continuing to colour in the book that Marisol had produced from a bag to keep the child amused, along with a mass of crayons.
"You mean on his driving licence?" frowned Hog.
Hope shook her head but continued working her crayons, her tongue sticking out at the side of her mouth as she concentrated on keeping inside the lines. "It was on the back of his neck, when he picked me up I saw it.”
"He's one of Bruger’s Mutants," whispered Hog.
Tom simply nodded agreement.
"221," said Hope. "The number was 221."
The four men exchanged glances and shared the same thought that Anderson voiced. “Clearly something went wrong with 221.”
Knight ran the CCTV footage of the Mutant again. Anderson, Hog and Tom moved to stand either side of him watching the close up of Andrew as he turned and seem to look directly at them.
"What secret
are you hiding?" voiced Anderson to no one in particular.
"Is this the secret Mr Craig?” asked Hope, pointing at the back of the photo. “Her name was Cathy.”
The four men turned their backs on the CCTV screen that returned, after a few seconds, by default to live feed, and joined Marisol and Hope back at the large oval table. Each looked down on the photo of a smiling child, a child called Cathy.
For several moments no one spoke, each lost in their own thoughts. Anderson voiced them, "This Mutant displayed signs of care and compassion for a child that it linked with its own past, it seems to be fighting the virus. He could give us so many answers as to how we battle this plague. All of my instincts tell me that Mutant 221 and Hope will give us the cure we are looking for. We have to find him." The group turned back to the CCTV screen. Had they turned a second earlier they would have seen Andrew dash across the screen from the alley, heading for Fort London.
#
Blade watched in horror as Bruger set the Mutant loose on the trapped men. The creature yanked each set of cuffs in turn and bit into each man’s hands and arms, controlled only by Bruger who commanded him to stop and move to the next man. Each man screamed in high pitched wails of despair, yanking and pulling with such ferocity that the skin on their wrists tore and ripped from the wrist bones. The scent of fresh blood sent the Mutant into a frenzy as it chewed lumps from each man and as Bruger finally ordered it to stop and stand back, Blade aimed his Dezzie at the back of the Mutant’s head for he was sure the intoxicated creature would never be able to be controlled and pulled away from Pure meat. He was wrong, the beast stopped immediately and stepped back, its nostrils flaring, its blood shot eyes wide, drinking in its prey. From its blood stained lips slipped a deep guttural growl, a primeval sound that should never have come from something that was once human. After just minutes each within the cell began to flinch, their heads twitching as the virus seeped through their bodies, carried to every part by the Tainted blood that now ran through their veins and as it hit the brain it began to destroy and corrupt it's millions of cells.
Bravo Two Zombie (Book 3): The Final Solution Page 11