by Iain Benson
“Are we back where we started?” Xia asked.
“No,” said London. “This is the Bakerloo line. We need to get to Paddington for the Slough train. There’s an art to getting round the underground on the fewest changes.”
“Every train is always less than a minute away,” said Vera. “This is a strange unit of time measurement.”
“It’s also generally inaccurate,” said London as a train pulled in with the usual announcement of a rush of air. Once again, Vera allowed the people off before they got on.
As the doors were closing a young woman came running up. She did not make it. Reinforced safety glass was all that prevented the woman from opening a window.
“Is she unaware that there is another carriage in two minutes?” Vera asked.
“Two minutes is an eternity to some people,” London said.
“Then these people need to understand the importance of calm,” said Vera. “Anger should be saved for where it can be used.”
There was a nervous older woman clutching the upright handrail like a novice pole dancer, next to her on a seat was a teenager bobbing his head in time to music loud enough to be heard through noise reduction earphones. London thought that the youth should be more courteous. Suddenly the youth looked up guiltily at the older woman, and got to his feet, allowing her to gratefully sit.
As the train pulled into Paddington, it emptied like an upturned glass of water. Xia looked up and down the platform.
“Are all the platforms identical?” she asked.
“Just about,” said London. “I think they build new ones in the same style just so that the people who use the Tube don’t freak out.”
At the top of the escalators, they were met by Rivers and Keyes.
“Finally,” River said, brandishing train tickets. “You’ve taken ages.”
“How did you get here?” London asked them.
“Uber,” Keyes replied. “We’d have met you in Slough, but the Uber drivers don’t go there anymore.”
“The train is in five minutes,” Rivers said.
They came through a high brick arch onto the platform. The old Victorian station brickwork arched up to high square windows. A well-worn train was waiting to leave as they arrived on the platform. Like the tube, the train was full, for a definition of full about twice that of the usual definition.
“I believe this to be a poor mode of transport,” Vera observed without any trace of sarcasm.
The half hour journey was hot, uncomfortable and totally typical. When they pulled into Slough station, they were the only people who got off. It seemed the train could not wait to get out of Slough.
Slough station was unprepossessing. It had a low brick building to one side, huge apartment blocks on the other side, overlooking the tracks. They emerged into a car-park. Slough’s major source of income was car-parks. Most towns had approximately five times as many cars looking for spaces as they did spaces for these cars allowing additional charges to be levied because of supply and demand and even slightly illegal parking. The car-park outside the station was empty. The large supermarket on the other side of the road was equally devoid of cars.
Instead, there were a huge number of soldiers. Armoured cars were driving up and down the streets. There was a tank taking up several pay-and-display places, though it was doubtful even the most feared traffic wardens in the world, in Islington, would ticket the tank. Given the number of gun emplacements and armed soldiers, this appeared to be where Wishbone was storing those weapons he hadn’t sunk. They paused at the station entrance. It needed Xia’s arm across his chest to stop Vera from walking straight out, right into the hornet’s nest.
London went back into the deserted station. There was a small kiosk selling magazines, newspapers and maps, but here was no owner. London took an A-to-Z of Slough down off the rack. He found the one bench not covered in pigeon guano, and flicked through to find the address X had found.
“I have an idea,” London said when Keyes and Rivers came over for a strategy discussion.
“Go on,” Rivers said.
“The train tracks go very close,” said London. “We follow them, get off here, and we’ve only got two hundred metres to cover.”
“Reinforcements will arrive fast,” said Keyes.
“It looks impregnable,” London said. “Hopeless.”
Rivers gave him a grin. “Walk in the park,” he said, which translated into Kurian as ‘a cloud in the mist’.
The train track route started out as a good idea. They were obscured from view on either side by trees, bushes and the occasional warehouse. Keyes had memorised the map, and indicated that they had to now leave the track. At which point the train track route did highlight one limitation: they were at the bottom of a steep sided valley covered in gorse bushes, ivy, nettles and thistles. It was a more effective barrier than a minefield. Vera handled the prickles quite well, but a slick, muddied slope was quite problematic. Fortunately, Rivers and Keyes were at the top to help him up.
“How do they do that?” Xia asked.
“Beats me,” said London. “It’s probably a top secret training course.”
Xia and London scrambled up, both of them getting muddy hands, knees and shoes. A chain link fence barricaded the way onto the parking lot of a two storey pale office block. Vera squashed it. There was no longer a chain link fence barricading the way. There had to be no expectation of anybody coming in from this direction, for there were no soldiers in the parking lot, but they could see the patrols on the road. Without cars in the lot, the direct route was a huge empty space between them and the next area of cover.
“I don’t like it,” Rivers said to Keyes. “If Wishbone’s using drones, or satellite imagery, we’ll be seen immediately.”
“We can skirt up to that line of trees…” Keyes broke off. Vera was already halfway across the car-park.
“Or, we can go that way,” sighed Rivers.
Keeping a wary eye out, Keyes and Rivers raced across the lot, pressing up against the wall. London and Xia trotted and caught up with Vera.
“You do know we still have several blocks to cover?” London reminded Vera. “Wishbone’s soldiers have tanks, guns, rocket launchers and their own innate strength.”
“We have the element of surprise,” Vera said.
“An element that we will lose the second you’re seen,” London said.
They reached the office block.
“Judging by this office,” said Keyes, “there are no civilians about.”
Bonbon agreed with the assessment. Everybody felt a sense of relief as Vera’s sharply dressed disguise fell away, revealing him back as a blue, two metre tall, heavily muscled lion with a flowing mane of blue hair and muddy overalls.
They kept close to the side of the office block. Just around the corner there was a wall that kept them concealed until they reached the gate to the road. London peeked around the edge of the wall. Across the road, there was the entrance to smaller units, roller doors all closed up. In the distance, London could see their destination: the cooling towers and chimneys of the old power station. London could also see a fifty strong squad of soldiers marching in a perfect rectangle down the road, preceding an armoured car with a machine gun emplacement on the roof.
Until the squad had passed, the small band of rebels hugged the wall. “You see those tall thin things and the wider white towers,” London said to Vera. “They’re chimneys at the old Slough power station. Somewhere in there, is Wishbone.”
“You do not need to accompany me,” Vera said. “Thank you for getting me this close to my enemy.”
For a moment, London was tempted. “I’m with you,” he said.
“Me too,” Xia added.
“Who dares wins, and all that,” Rivers said. Keyes nodded at that.
Bonbon’s response was a complex one, that London untangled as he’d rather not, but they’d probably need him.
Another squad of soldiers followed by another armoured car
went past.
“When they’ve passed,” said Keyes, “We cross, head to that yard, if we can get there, we’ll be able to get closer without taking the roads.”
London was quite surprised to discover he was still alive as they ducked into the yard at the back of the low units. An abandoned ice cream van provided a feeling of cover until they reached the wall and hedge at the far end of the units. There was a narrow metal railing gate beside a car rental office. They had another road to cross to reach a small group of arched rooved buildings, all of which said, quite incorrectly, that they were open to the public.
The road leading to the power station was to their left, London saw the familiar green sign of a Subway. Trees and ornamental low hedges fronted the car-rental place. They were too sparse and too low to provide cover. London peered in through the glass.
“Bear hunt,” said London to Vera.
“How can we go under it?” Vera asked, puzzled.
“We can’t go under it,” said London. “We’ll have to go through it.”
Vera looked at the glass, and nodded. Inside the building, the sound of the smashed window was loud, but outside, it was muted by the slight breeze, pounding feet and vehicle noises. They moved inside, bending over to get to the far side of the building using the office partitions as cover.
As they passed a unisex toilet, London realised he actually quite needed a wee, so they took a five minute comfort break before continuing on to the far side of the building.
From this vantage, they could see the power station entrance. They could also see how many soldiers lay between them and their target.
“I can sense three minds,” said Bonbon in London’s head. “They are in the tall building with the black windows a third of the way up. They are exceedingly worried.”
“Do you know what we need?” Rivers asked, interrupting a conversation he couldn’t hear. “We need a vehicle. High speed entry, come out of this gate here, at speed, straight down that road; lay down covering fire to take out the gun emplacements, smash through that gate, into the power station, through the front door. Once were inside, we can locate Wishbone, and take him out.”
“Do we try and take one of the armoured cars?” Keyes said.
“No,” said London, “The moment we announce ourselves, they will know where we are precisely. We need to be heading inwards, so they do not have time to re-organise.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“Does anybody want an ice-cream?” London asked with a grin.
“Although I would like this particular delicacy of which you refer,” said Vera. “I think that this is neither the time nor the place in which to partake of luxury confectionary.”
“I hope it’s got fuel,” said Keyes, remembering the van they’d passed.
They quickly retraced their route. Breaking in was a matter of smashing a window, and opening the door. Everybody crowded in the back, except Keyes.
“I’ll get that gate open,” he said. “You come through at speed, and pick me up.”
“We’ve got one shot at this,” said Rivers.
“I promised you a whole ice-cream van,” said London to Vera. “And here we are.”
“You are a being of your word,” Vera acknowledged. “However, it is singularly lacking in ice-cream.”
London watched closely as Rivers hotwired the van. It looked fairly simple. The engine rumbled into life, the van shuddering. A strong diesel smell washed over them. London drove while Rivers and Xia took two of the guns. One blast from Xia disintegrated the wall behind the car rental office. The sound of the exploding brickwork had to have been heard, so London floored the van’s accelerator swinging around, scattering bricks and ornamental bushes to get through the gap. If the exploding wall hadn’t betrayed their positon, the damage to the van from the remains of the wall caused the tune to suddenly start, and London didn’t know how to turn it off.
With Teddy Bears Picnic blaring out, London headed across the car-park. He could see Keyes at the gate, breaking the lock and pulling the wide gate wide open. Rivers opened the sliding window at the side of the van, and as they reached the gate, Rivers snagged Keyes like a mail sack by the mail train, hauling him inside.
It was cramped inside with Vera’s bulk taking up much of the space, which was fortunate, as this prevented them bouncing around too much as the van hurtled out of the car-park, a wing mirror taking out an ornamental bay tree. Their presence was now known. London tried to put the accelerator through the floor, discovering as he did so that Teddy Bears Picnic tune appeared to be tied to the speed of the van, speeding up as they did.
“If you go down to the woods today,” sang London under his breath as they tore across the road, scattering the soldiers. Bodies bounced off the front and under the wheels. The remaining soldiers reacted quickly, and their aim was impressively accurate given how their target lurched and swayed. Bullets zinged through the van, fortunately not hitting any of the occupants, though a cupboard full of cones was hit, covering them in cone crumb confetti.
The front window exploded in a shower of glass and Keyes used the new gap to fire forward, taking out the two gun emplacements on either side of the gate. Xia and Rivers were indiscriminately taking out as many soldiers as possible as the van shot past the entrance to the visitor’s car-park and straight through the metal gate, swinging the two halves violently apart. The offside front tyre went first, slewing the van over to the left under a low overhead pipe that took the ice-cream cone off the roof of the van. It swung violently to the right before becoming detached and scattering soldiers like skittles.
London tore down an access road barely wider than the van as the rear wheels were taken out, bringing the back of the van down, sending sparks up behind them as London fought with the wheel to keep heading straight for the admin block ahead. Bullets were ricocheting off the roof with pinging zinging noises. Fortunately, both the front and rear windows were now memories, as a rocket shot through the cabin from front to the back, parting Vera’s mane as it went. Behind them it took out a squad of soldiers and a gantry-way that creaked and groaned as it crumpled to the ground. The three energy weapons were in full use as they scraped up to the front of the building, before a second rocket hit the ground right in front of them. The van blew up and backwards, performing a neat arc, crashing against the office wall to the left, then the metal wall to the right.
Inside, London watched the world career around in an arc, the tall office block replaced by a beautiful cloudless blue sky, before the office behind them came into view upside down and the van landed on its roof in a slow motion display of the van’s crumple zones.
It took vital seconds for the occupants to realise they weren’t dead yet, but were now on the twisted remains of the van’s roof.
London dragged himself through the gap, staring up the narrow canyon of the two buildings either side. A soldier appeared, it only had one arm. London’s vision was blurred; he could hear a muffled retort of the energy weapons.
“Crap,” he thought. “So close.”
As the soldier raised a huge foot, a whistling noise made it pause and look up. A small black dot smashed into the soldier’s head, sending genetically engineered blood in all directions. There was a rattle, and the source of the soldier’s demise came to rest on the floor beside London.
“Bleep bleep,” it said.
Groggily, shaking his head, London picked it up. It was his phone.
“Not bad,” he muttered. “I’ve still got twenty-percent battery.”
He stuck the phone in his pocket and crawled through the inverted van that was creating an effective blockage to the entrance.
“You three go on in,” said Rivers. “We’ll keep them out for as long as we can.”
London nodded, and joined Vera, Xia and Bonbon by the door.
Xia tossed London her gun, saying: “You’re a better shot than me.”
Bullets tore out of the interior of the building, indicating the defenders s
till outnumbered them. London picked up a rocket launcher from one of the fallen soldiers. It was fortunately loaded as he didn’t have the instruction booklet and safety guide. On the side was a warning not to use it as a floatation device. He pointed it at the door, holding it slung low and upside down, as he figured at this distance, accuracy wasn’t his main concern.
“Fire in the hole,” he shouted, pressing the trigger. He’d never fired a rocket launcher before, and was surprised at the way it bucked as the rocket swept out, flames erupting from the back end. Before they’d died down, the missile burst through the doors and exploded, sending a ball of flame and debris from the interior.
London dropped the launcher and sprinted for the doors.
Just inside, a reception area had once had a blue colour scheme, but now sported a sooty black look. There was a bank of elevators to the left, low seating to the right, with a staff cafeteria just beyond. The suspended ceiling had been partially removed. The air of decay was added to by the scorch marks and holes in the walls, ceiling and floor.
London added to these as he rolled into the lobby, firing at the remaining soldiers who’d not been killed in the blast. The firefight was brief, leaving the air with a haze smelling of a Hannibal Lecter barbecue. A ceiling panel popped, and crashed out of the ceiling in a shower of sparks. London lay on his back, patting himself down. He appeared to be in one piece.
Vera strode in, his head reaching up to the ceiling knocking out a defunct light panel.
From his position on the floor, London wondered if the alien had grown. He was looming.
“I do not think the elevators are working,” Vera said, looking at the way one of the doors hung at a precarious angle.
“After this,” said Xia, “I’d be surprised if the stairs were still working.”
The stairs were still working, though the fire doors were smouldering a little in the corners. Concrete steps spiralled up, thirteen steps to each turn. A metal banister spiralled up alongside them. Set into the yellow painted walls on each floor was a fire door. Heavy wooden frames with a metal push-bar and a little running man image above each one.