Authors: Ian D. Moore
He recognised the shape covered under the blankets; it wasn't difficult. He slid the laptop out, being careful to note its position and mindful not to ruffle the sheets unnecessarily. It took him a further ten minutes work, using the contents of the small black box he'd brought, to complete his task. Replacing the laptop in the same spot, he straightened the cover and crawled back to the door, tentatively checking outside before leaving.
Meriam had done it; she really was a star.
***
In the cookhouse, Nathan looked up from the table as the children attacked their second portion of ice cream. He’d had a word with the duty chef and pulled a few favours for their treat and the refill. He would be paying back those favours in the future without a doubt, but it was worth the extra guard duty to see them smiling. A stooped, gaunt-looking man approached that he recognised as the man who’d had the stomach problem. What was odd was that a pretty young woman accompanied the man.
She must be staff; surely, not with him.
“Look!” he shouted to Holly, pointing over her shoulder, knowing that she would turn to see. He then helped himself to a spoonful of her ice cream, playfully but not entirely concealing his guilt.
“Oi! Naffam!” she said, giggling.
With the children ice-creamed out for the time being, they stood, cleared the empty bowls, and took them to the wash area. With an appreciative wave to the senior duty chef, they turned to leave, making their way back to the children’s play hangar. He hoped he would find Steve and Janey, and they would be happy to keep an eye on the children for at least the next three to four hours. He really needed to sleep.
*******
Evelyn packed away the rough notes she had made for the meeting and then took a moment to think.
What should the next course of action be?
Colonel Connell would have the strategy covered; she knew that. Evie wrestled with her thoughts.
Should we be able to capture some of the infected alive, would it be best to keep them here or take them to the facility? No, it would be safer if we could have at least a couple of the infected ones at the facility. Damn this virus, this was never supposed to happen!
That would work only if the rest of her team were safe and well, and she didn't know if they were. Using the facility's advanced equipment would speed up the process of examination and testing, for sure. Evie made her way to the base’s lab facilities to introduce herself to the team and to try to understand their fields of specialisation, since it was likely they would be working together closely in the coming days.
An approaching aircraft caught her attention. Briefly, she paused to watch the helicopter as it made its final descent onto the landing area at Dishforth base. Without waiting to see who disembarked, she pushed her way through the doors to the lab.
As the engine began to wind down and the rotors spun to a standstill, the flight crew opened the door from the outside. Standing to greet them, Dr. Fitzgerald was eager to discover what they had found at the wellhead and would want Evelyn present when his team made their reports.
The three doctors disembarked, walking over to Charles and greeting him both as a friend and colleague. As chief medical officer, Charles had maintained a level of discipline but also encouraged a relaxed and informal approach with his team and it was mutual. Charles believed it improved productivity, and their results suggested he was right in his assessment and management style. First, he would let them freshen up and eat. Three days of ration packs, with sufficient nutrients, vitamins, and minerals but little pleasure, was enough for anyone.
He needed every ounce of their combined expertise, and that of Dr. Shepherd, if they were going to end this viral onslaught.
“Your attention, my esteemed colleagues, if you please. Take some time to freshen yourselves up and be sure to get some food inside you. We still have a long day ahead of us and much to accomplish,” said Charles. He looked at each of them in turn, peering over the glistening rim of his rounded spectacles. He continued, “If you would be kind enough to meet me in the base laboratory in two hours' time, I’ll be happy to hear your individual reports. We will then put our heads together with Dr. Shepherd and try to find a way to beat this thing. That’s all for now. Why are you still here?” he added with a smile.
All over the base, soldiers hurried to carry out new orders following the new information that the meeting had provided. New security measures were implemented and for the two senior base officers, the heads-up had been an eye-opening, jaw-dropping experience. They knew of chemical weapons but not on the kind of scale as was described by Dr. Shepherd. Orders at the base were changed as a result: a shoot to kill policy instigated, UV lighting requisitioned, and engineers worked around the clock to modify and erect temporary lights until the specialist equipment could be obtained. The base became a hive of activity.
Specialist soldiers were selected to take part in a mission to enter the Salby facility. Helicopters carrying troops were deployed to secure the heart of the town before the access team flew in. They now had the plans and schematics that Nathan had taken from the site offices, along with his camera and the initial images of the dead he had taken before they'd escaped. The senior officers called a meeting at 1900 hours with their chosen section commanders; it was now imperative that access be gained to the underground facility.
***
For the twenty-eight-year-old Corporal Jane Simms, it had been an exceptionally busy day. Being the right hand “man” of the base commander, there seemed to be an endless list of tasks to be done. She loved the buzz and being part of the well-oiled machine that was the British Army. She was a very bright young woman, ambitious, had a flair for learning new skills, and had already attained respect at high level in a short space of time.
Eager to learn, she had volunteered for just about every course the Army had to offer since joining two years ago. Proficient in communications, weapons, hand-to-hand fighting, cover and concealment, tactical intelligence, and field operations, she had become a great asset to her commanding officer and the base on which she served. She hoped that, in the future, she might earn the chance to attend the Officer Training Corps but would need recommendation and referral from the C.O. for that to happen.
Her goal was to become a high ranking female officer, to earn it on her own merit and not because of civilian qualifications, as some of the “new generation” officers had been. Corporal Simms was sure the best officers were those who started from the bottom, who had the chance to work and serve with real soldiers and who knew what it was like to be the one on the bottom of the ladder. Both Lieutenant Colonel Connell and Major Sower had been such men, and they had her utter respect.
The smart tablet device in the khaki green, lightweight trouser pocket of her right leg bleeped with her next job. She was to locate Staff Sergeant Stewall and Sergeant Cross and inform them to be at a meeting at 1900 hours. She made her way to locate the two men, passing briefly by the cookhouse and glancing fleetingly over the milling people there, instantly spotting the couple at the front table.
***
Colin Snape stared at the beautiful form of the woman who sat opposite him, studying the contours of her face. Every time she smiled, he noticed that her eyes would light up a little more. He imagined a beachfront villa, with the sun shining through a cloudless blue sky, as the waves rippled up onto the shallow shoreline. He could see Meriam, wrapped in a sarong as the soft breeze blew her hair, while she padded seductively along the sand as she called to him, “How about a skinny dip, honey?”
In his mind, she turned playfully, peeling off bikini top and bottoms, heading for the clear water of the softly lapping surf.
“Colin? Colin, are you with us?” she said, blowing the hot coffee before sipping.
“What? Oh yes, I was somewhere else for a minute there,” he replied, snapping back to reality.
“Welcome back to Earth, you were miles away, would you care to share?” she teased, again flashing that oh-so-sexy smile.
“No, no, it was nothing. I’ve a lot on my mind and didn’t get much sleep last night. Back to the business at hand. You’re sure you want to come with me on this? It could be dangerous, and there is no guarantee that it will work, but I’m sure as hell not going to stay here and wait to be cast into a cell for the next twenty years. I’ve money on the outside and we’ll want for nothing,” he said, smiling at the thought of his nest egg.
“So, we’re really going to do it then? When though?” she said, nonchalantly.
“I need to get a handle on the movements first, find out when the main gate is open and for how long. The security details in the Land Rovers often leave the keys in the ignition between scouts. That’s the opportune moment. If we can time it for when the main gate is open to let supply teams enter, they will provide cover from that bloody great tank sat out there. Hopefully, it’ll be long enough for us to get clear.”
His mind went through the scenario, playing it out step-by-step.
“I reckon two days' time,” he said, followed by, “I’ve a few loose ends to tie up here first.”
***
A short distance from where the scheming couple sat, in the next hangar along, Nathan found Steve and Janey Grey, who smiled as he approached with the two ice-cream stuffed children. They seemed genuinely pleased to see them all. Janey produced a handkerchief from her pocket, wiping the creamy white mark from Holly’s mouth and rubbing at the dollop still attached to the front of Tom’s T-shirt, before leading them off to play. After a short and friendly conversation with Steve, Nathan managed to head back towards his bunk for some overdue shut-eye. It was almost 1600 hours now. With luck, Chris wouldn’t be coming to find him for another three hours at least. That would give him time to prepare for the night supply run and have a chance to see to the children, not to mention catching up with Evie.
It took a little while for Evie to find the base medical centre and lab facility, a small building set back from the main areas. It was fit for purpose and functional, having a basic array of older medical equipment.
The main examination and treatment room comprised x-ray department, stainless steel tables with equipment neatly bagged and placed above and below them, an electronic vital signs monitor on an army green painted stand, portable stats machine for blood pressure, and a lockable wooden cabinet in the corner, which she assumed contained drugs.
The base medical team was busy reviewing information given to them, preparing anaesthetic darts for use with a pneumatic rifle. There were only two of these rifles available. The armourer had to service them before releasing them, as they hadn’t been used before.
Carefully measuring the correct amounts using a syringe, a young fair-haired chap, with a furrowed brow of concentration, began to inject the darts. Using Diprivan and Anaspaz alternately, both general anaesthetics, he filled four darts. There was enough in each dart to keep a fully-grown man under for a good few hours.
The darts were colour-coded according to strength; an overdose could easily kill a smaller female or child should the order be given to capture such.
“Lieutenant Dr. Evelyn Shepherd,” she said, introducing herself and extending a hand.
“Oh, hi, I’m Dr. Mike Fielding, specialising in toxicology,” the man said, putting down the syringe before taking her hand.
“I’m sure I’ll be working closely with you in the coming days. Do you know how to use that rifle?” she said, smiling, but really wanting to know if he did.
“No, Ma’am, we leave that to the snipers. I just make sure that the darts will drop the target.”
“Ahh, I see, and it’s doctor, please address me as doctor here. The military title is purely superficial, a necessary rank due to my work. Are the others here too?”
“Yes, Doctor, they will be working on medications for the arrival of our guests, both here and at the Military Police building, just out of the main doors to the right.”
“Thank you, Dr. Fielding, I’ll see you at the meeting at 1900 hours.”
With the base staff already preparing for the possibility of infected guests, Evie headed for the main activity hangar to check on the children. A little time off the job wouldn’t do any harm, and it might help her to focus her mind if she saw them, she thought. She caught a glimpse of the young female soldier as she pushed through the door of the facility; clearly focused on whatever her assignment was, the young corporal didn’t acknowledge her.
***
As she pushed open the huge steel armoury door, Corporal Simms recognised the sweet smell of gun oil. For anyone who had ever fired a weapon, the smell was almost as alluring as freshly made chips or toast in the morning. There was no mistaking that aroma. She couldn’t see anybody as she approached the desk. From behind a shielded partition, a young, fresh-faced recruit approached her. He had short, recently cropped hair cut perfectly symmetrical, a starched and pressed shirt, lightweights not yet faded, and his boots were highly polished.
“Yes, Corporal, can I help you?” the young man said politely.
“Is Staff Sergeant Stewall here, Craftsman?” she said, using the recruits REME title.
“He’s just popped out. I think he went to the boys’ room, Corporal; he’ll be back shortly. Would you like me to pass him a message?”
“No, Craftsman. It’s okay. I’ll wait,” she said, a little annoyed at Stewall's timing.
“Very good. If you’ll excuse me, I’m working on a weapon out back,” he said, turning to head back to his task.
She reached for her tablet device, checking for additional instructions. That little machine was permanently attached to her somewhere; a symbiotic creature that worked in unison with her.
Staff Sergeant Stewall returned, addressing her as he walked to the front desk, “Corporal Simms. What can we do for you today?”
“Hi, Sergeant, I’ve a message from the C.O. You are to report to the meeting room in the main building at 1900 hours. He didn’t say what it was about, tiffy, sorry.”
“Very good, Corporal, message received with thanks,” he said, smiling. As he looked over the attractive young non-commissioned officer, he thought that a couple of years ago, he’d have been seriously flirting with this woman.
She was slim and attractive with long black hair tied up in a neat knot and pinned in at the neck. He watched her turn and leave, admiring the perfectly formed bottom outlined in the olive green military trousers.
One down and one to go, she thought. She left the armoury, fully aware of the admiring eyes that had watched her exit. She knew that Sergeant Cross had been on guard duty the night before and also knew that the disappearance of his charge, Tom, had woken him. She guessed that he would be trying to catch up on his sleep.
Corporal Simms decided she would stop by his quarters and wake him at 1800 hours. That would give him two hours to sleep before he was disturbed. For now, there were other pressing tasks to be completed.