Society: After It Happened Book 3 (18 page)

GEOGRAPHICALLY CHALLENGED

Emma was not doing well.  She was utterly exhausted and under terrible stress.  She craved the safety of the prison but worried that they would blame her for Steve’s capture.  She hit blockages constantly and spent too long driving in circles.  Eventually she got scared when she saw movement when trying to turn the big, unfamiliar vehicle around and fired three shots wildly from the window to scare whoever was there away.  The shots served only to deafen her and leave her ears ringing for the rest of the day.

She resorted to using the motorway to make distance south, ever fearful that her pursuers were gaining on her.  She didn’t even know how much ground she had gained whilst fleeing south, but each hour her desperation grew with her panic and the tiredness made her less and less effective.

She wasn’t to know, but there was no pursuit.  Steve had been kept in an office for two days, being brought breakfast lunch and dinner but no word from outside his prison.  Nobody had thought to remove his knife or spare magazines, which made him think that he wouldn’t be kept like a prisoner for long.  His breakfast on the third day was carried in by the smiling Richards; all trace of the volcanic anger from before evaporated.

“Morning!” he said as he placed the tray down.  Two meals were on it, meaning that Richards intended to stay and talk to him.

Steve stood and straightened himself.  He had no intention of being anything other than cooperative; getting behind the controls of a helicopter was the only way he would make it home.

He thought of it as home.  It was where his new family was, and they were waiting for him.

“I hope you’ve forgiven me for the rouse” he said to the Captain “I promised her she could go home” he finished, laying down the gauntlet to see if Richards was still angry.

He was, but he masked it behind his fake smile.

“No matter now” he said “what does matter, however, is you” he jabbed the point of his knife in Steve’s direction as he said it.

“Me?” Steve replied cautiously.

“Yes” Richards said through a mouthful of food “Are you ready to get in the air again”

Steve smiled and chewed his mouthful before he replied.

“Can’t wait” he said genuinely.

His Sig was returned to him as a gesture and plans were laid to leave immediately.  He was introduced to six engineers who had been pressed into avionics at short notice.  A contingent of four soldiers were accompanying them, mostly he suspected to watch him.  The command of the expedition was officially his, however the show was really being run by no one better. 

Mitch shouted his orders and the engineering team jumped to obey.  The guards and Steve travelled cramped into a military Land Rover whilst the engineers brought another.  The journey took them a full day and night non-stop with regular driver changes.  Steve, exempt from the difficult driving due to his prized status, kept quiet and rested the whole journey as well as he could in a cramped car being jostled.

The hangar was wound open by hand, quicker this time because of the extra manpower.  Steve strolled in to inspect the machine, running his hands over the controls.  He sat in the pilot’s seat and settled himself, feeling the resistance of the pedals.  He flicked the pre-ignition switches, finding the helicopter without power.  He sighed and climbed out of the figure-hugging seat.

He missed this, he realised.  He missed it a lot.

He set the engineering team to the manuals to study them in detail, as he and the others set about searching the base.  Steve opened the lockers to find himself some new flight gear, finding a set to fit on the third attempt.  The small arms locker had already been emptied, not that it mattered as he was still carrying his Sig.

He found the obligatory set up where water was being boiled for a hot drink, and helped himself to a coffee.  He sat and bided his time until he was needed to oversee the maintenance of the aircraft. 

He had no idea that a friend, a brother, was getting an early night before what would be his last ever breakfast.

PEST CONTROL

The former Policeman and his former Royal Marine crept slowly out of the area until the trees masked them.  As they stretched off their cramped muscles Dan lit a cigarette, relishing the harsh smoke after denying himself the addiction all night.  They picked up into a jog to get back to the house despite their exhaustion.

Leah, Lexi and Neil all waited for them.  More coffee was poured for them as they stripped off their gear and relaxed.  Marie breezed in and sat, waiting to hear their news looking uncomfortable with a gun on her hip.

Dan had to get it out of the way.

“Shut the door, please” he said softly, hoping his tone would betray the news he had to give.

“Joe’s gone” he said.  Marie and Lexi both began to cry, Marie hiding her emotions far less than Lexi could.  Neil’s mouth was held taught as he breathed heavily through his nose in response.  The muscles in Leah’s cheeks twitched as her teeth were locked tightly together.  Dan saw more anger than grief in her stony face as a single tear escaped to roll down her cheek.

“It gets worse.  We saw them stringing his body up.  It’s a goad for us, designed to make us vulnerable.  There’s maybe twenty of them, possibly a little more, and they’re camped in the barn by the ambush site”

Leah sat and spun her laptop around, working the mousepad to bring up the area.

“Move in on foot, cut offs at each end.  Main assault goes in at dusk. We can finally use those pyrotechnics too” an evil smile pricked the corner of her mouth.  Simple and impressive plan, Dan thought.

“Ok.  Tonight then.  Thoughts?” he offered, asking people to pick their preferred roles.

“Thunderbird Two” said Neil quietly, meaning that he wanted to use the vehicle mounted heavy machine gun again.

“Good.  Cut off closest to here, please” Dan said, receiving a nod from Neil in answer.  He turned to Lexi.

“Battle rifle and the high ground as the furthest cut off?” he said to her, meaning that she should take the position he occupied through the night.  He reminded himself to tell her to avoid the big tree there.

“That leaves us three to go in” he said, looking at Rich and Leah.  Marie shifted in her seat, wanting to object on a purely age-related basis against Leah’s involvement in the execution of twenty people.  She held her tongue.

“Opposition?” Leah asked, and Rich picked up the briefing.

“Approximately twenty.  Some small arms, mostly shotguns.  There’s also Joe’s M4 to consider so they’ve got at least one full auto” he said.

“Flashbangs are a good idea” Dan said to Leah.

They had kept these in their armoury for a long time, waiting for an appropriate situation to use them.  They were a cylindrical grenade which exploded with a concussive noise and a blinding flash before smaller charges flew out and exploded in turn.  In confined spaces they would burst eardrums and sear the retinas of unsuspecting victims, rendering them blind and deaf and therefore much easier to kill.

“We move up at sundown, get in position and hit them” he said with finality.  Not a hugely detailed plan, but they had far superior weaponry and the element of surprise.

“Right.  We need a few hours’ sleep” he said nodding to Rich.

~

Sleep came fairly easily to him, betraying the depth of his exhaustion.  He woke and checked his watch, showing it to be mid-afternoon.  He climbed out of bed and put on the clothing he wore overnight; no sense in getting clean clothes covered in blood and suffering the wrath of the laundry team again.

He had a ravenous hunger which needed to be satisfied.  Nervous looks and timid questions were given to him as he ate, which he diverted carefully.  When he was full he wandered into Ops with a large coffee.  The whole team was there, waiting.

He sat heavily; emotionally drained from seeing his friend who he was responsible for dead and desecrated in front of him and physically tired from the night spent awake.  The few hours of restless sleep hadn’t helped his mood much.

“Anyone got any more thoughts?” he asked the room in general.

“A hall burning” Leah said blandly.

“A what?” said Neil, giving her a horrified look.

“I read it in a book.  It’s what the Vikings did.  Wait until they are all inside the barn and set it on fire, then kill anyone who runs out” she explained without a hint of emotion.

Simple.  Effective.  Ruthless.

“Ok” Dan said, not in the mood to justify engaging the Human Rights of the invaders “Lexi picks off anyone uphill; mark your shots and mind you don’t kill us by accident.  Us three go in on foot followed by Neil in Thunderbird Two.  We light it up and Neil comes reversing in with the big gun.”

Nobody raised an objection, just as they didn’t when they agreed to the plan to attack Bronson and his gang of slavers.

“I’ve got five radios linked” said Rich, surprising Dan by being so alert and finding the time.

“Lex, Nikki, Dan, Neil” he said in turn as he passed out each one and kept one for himself.

Marie sat silent, almost as a moral weathervane there to monitor their humanity and ensure they didn’t stray too far from acceptability.  She found that she had nothing to say; the murder of Joe and her hatred of Patrick had massaged her senses of vengeance and self-preservation.

Over the next hour and a half, they ran through every different scenario they could, something that Dan always encouraged.  This way, if something unexpected happened, they had already agreed a way of dealing with it.

As the sun started to sink behind the trees Dan called a break.  They melted away deep in their own thoughts, some to eat and others to rest.

Dan went outside with his dog and his lover for a peaceful smoke in mutually comfortable silence. 

MEANWHILE, UP NORTH

Steve sat mostly idle for an entire day as the engineers researched everything they could about the aircraft.  They began working on bringing it to life that evening by charging the batteries and flushing the fuel and hydraulic lines.  The following morning Steve donned his new flight suit and helmet to help.

Eventually the huge machine whirred and spluttered into life, allowing him to run through the complex pre-flight procedures.  They started it, shut it down and started it again until all the dials showed ready.  He tried to think of more reasons to delay, and wasted hours on insisting that reserve fuel tanks were removed from other aircraft and fitted to the Merlin.

~

Emma battled her way south, making better distance on some days.  Her exhaustion made the days merge into one.  She had no idea how long she had been going by herself after the third day; she barely stopped long enough to sleep sufficiently to set her mind straight.  She obsessed over Steve’s fate and how he had had sacrificed his liberty for the chance of her freedom.

On the same day that Steve set about increasing the flight range of the helicopter, she began to try the CB radio as she drove on.

INFESTATION

Dan and Lexi set off on foot as the sun dropped low, with Rich bringing the others later in Neil’s murderous gunship.  They knew the timings from their journey yesterday, and Lexi’s fitness kept her easily at pace with Dan.

He reached the dead ground and lay in wait with her for the darkness that would allow her to reach her position undetected.  Noises of movement and talking reached them intermittently from the target.  As the night loomed, Dan withdrew to loop around and wait for the rest of their assault force.

As the last of the light failed, the oversized Defender rolled towards him without lights.  Neil stopped and Leah got out with Rich.  Ash was sat in the cab with Neil as planned, ready to hunt down anyone quick enough and unlucky enough to escape the storm of lead soon to be heading at them with supersonic deadliness.

The three crept low and slow towards the target, more noises drifting to their ears from their unsuspecting victims.  A young sentry stood bored outside the large doors to the barn, uninterested in the outside world and clearly wishing he was inside with the others.  By now Lexi would be watching Dan’s blind aspect of the building through her ambient light scope, using the rising moonlight to enhance her view.  At that distance she was guaranteed to be lethal.

Dan held back the others as he stayed motionless, watching the building.

Amateurs, he thought.  Only one sentry.  They must believe completely that they are safe despite the occasional light and the low noise coming from the building.  It was almost unfair that they were there to exterminate them; but then the sight of Joe’s body twirling in the wind obliterated those thoughts and all mercy he could have felt evaporated.

How to discourage a threat?  Kill every last one of them.  Hurt them so much that they can never hurt you again.

He shuffled slowly backwards and muttered to the others to move up and wait.  He crept forward, skirting a wide circle on the ground to avoid his movement attracting any attention.  He reached the rear of the barn and watched through a gap as the scruffy collection of teenagers and young men lounged in a false sense of security.  A dozen small motorbikes were canted over next to Joe’s Land Rover and another car, the faint smell of petrol invading his nostrils from the machines.  He listened to their muttered conversation, hearing snippets of their hopes.  They anticipated warms beds, hot water, and most worryingly their pick of the women.  Dan’s moral compass pointed true north now, and the justification of the planned mass murder calcified inside him.

He slowly reached into his leg pockets and removed the plastic bladders of petrol, retrieving more from inside his vest and the small bag he carried.  Creeping further forward he began to pour them into the gaps in the wooden slats of the barn walls.  Hoping the smell of the petrol would be masked by the prevailing odour of the machinery inside until he was finished.

He crept along the side of the barn, turning left and left again to bring him out directly around to the bored sentry.  He was five feet away, holding a crudely shortened twelve bore shotgun with the stock and barrels sawn away, totally unaware.  He melted back behind the wall and covered his face as he brought the small radio up to his mouth.

“Flashbangs on my mark when I take out the sentry.  Five…Four…Three” he said, leaving the final two seconds unspoken as he readied his weapon.

He stepped quickly out of the shadows and put a single round through the back of the boy’s head, felling him instantly.  He would never know anything of the assault, but then he should have been watching more attentively.

Before his uncontrolled legs had collapsed his body to the floor, Leah and Rich burst low from the shadows.  Both threw a pyrotechnic grenade each deep into the barn, cripplingly illuminating the building in noise and light.  All three of them kept their eyes closed, and Dan let his weapon hang to press his hands over his ears tightly.  They withdrew into the shadows as the last of the explosions left the area in a sudden, stunned silence.

The noise of the Land Rover reversing became louder, just as the first screams emerged from the barn.  Flames licked hungrily, casting an eerie light into the yard as the petrol ignited by the grenades searched hungrily for fuel to burn.

Dan ran to join Rich and Leah behind cover on the other side of the yard and heard the first spits of suppressed rounds searching for targets behind him.  Some of the group had staggered, blind and deaf, to the door only to be cut down by efficient shots from his burned Marine and child assassin.

Neil roared backwards into the yard, jumping from the vehicle and climbing into the rear bed to load a huge round into the evil machine gun.

A few seconds of bizarre silence engulfed them.  Not true silence; cries of panic and pain emanated from the barn over the crackling of the spreading flames.

Neil decided to kick the hornet’s nest, stitching two bursts into the timber walls by way of encouragement.  Dan, Leah and Rich responded to his help by felling each of those frightened by the heavy fire.  They dropped, hit by three different marksmen every time.  Shouting could be heard from inside now; a man’s voice bellowing orders.  The sound of breaking timbers echoed out, indicating at least some shred of collective intelligence as the choking occupants tried to force their way out through the rear wall.

Lexi saw them.  The first timber to fall away showed a bright slash of firelight, and she put two bullets directly into the breach.  That ended their attempts to escape that way, forcing the trapped rats to turn and attack.

Shotguns were fired from the doorway, foolishly enticing the heavy machine gun to respond and shred them through the thin walls.  More bellowed instructions, and a final attempt at escape was organised.  As one, the survivors burst from the door and scattered.  The hope that sheer numbers would protect them was a naïve one as the efficient fire picked them all off.

“ENOUGH!” cried a deep adult voice from inside. 

Dan snatched at his radio and called for them to cease fire.  He called them all by name to ensure that they had their fingers off their triggers.

“COME OUT” he yelled, smiling with satisfaction as a soot-stained and sweating King of Wales stepped forward.  He had Joe’s M4 in his left hand, held by the barrel to indicate that he was no threat.

Dan stood and walked towards him, meeting face to face in the middle of the flame-lit yard.  Patrick was beaten and scared.  More scared than he had probably ever been.  Dan walked around him slowly.  Taking the M4 from his unresisting hand.  He reached inside his belt and withdrew the Glock, both stolen weapons being retrieved felt symbolic to Dan.  His ideas for symbolism grew.  He walked to the barn and braved the growing heat to force the large doors closed, trapping anyone left inside. 

Afterwards, that kept him awake with the cruelty of such a death.

Realising what he was doing, Patrick roared “NO” and tried to rush him.  Dan responded by delivering a huge kick to his chest, knocking him flat on his back.  Patrick rose with difficulty, fighting for breath but full of anger.  He raised his fists and tried to control his face from opening the gates to the tears he held back, foolishly thinking that there were rules to their conflict any more. Dan delivered another savage kick to the side of his right knee as he pivoted on his left leg to add the full weight of his power, dropping him back to the ground.  As Patrick knelt before him he considered using the butt of his carbine to end him but he left him there, watching the remnants of his leadership burn more intensely. 

Leah and Rich came forward to flank the fat, broken man as Dan walked slowly towards where Joe remained suspended.  He untied the knots and lowered him to the floor as gently as he could, forcing the thin rope out of the cold, swollen flesh of his neck.  Neil helped him put the body of their friend into the back of the Defender, carefully lowering him onto the hot brass of the expended bullets.

He turned to Leah and Rich.

“Bring him here” he said, coldly.

Sensing his fate, Patrick began to speak for the first time.  He tried to throw himself onto his back, shouting “NO” repeatedly.  Leah painfully twisted the hand and wrist of his left hand behind him bracing his arm painfully straight, forcing him up to his knees and then his feet as he tried to resist the pain in his wrist, elbow and shoulder.  Using both hands she forced the straight arm forward, making Patrick walk as he bent over in agony.

Feebly, he tried to plead with them and finally allowed the tears to stream down his face without shame.  Rich spat in his face as he went by as Neil watched on with an unreadable expression.

“Your Highness” Dan said with utter seriousness and dripping with mock deference “for your crimes, you have been sentenced to death”

Before any response could come, he snatched up the looped end of the rope and threw it over his head.  He fought, causing a painful sounding crack from is wrist as Leah increased the pressure and forced him back to his knees.  She held him there and nodded to Dan.  He picked up the other end of the rope, and helped by Rich and Neil they slowly hauled the fat monarch to his feet.  Leah let go her now useless restraint and stepped smartly back out of reach of the legs which now began to trash wildly as his feet cleared the ground.  Slowly he rose, foot by foot as the three heavy men hauled on the rope.

The screams became choked sounds of pain and panic, quickly becoming sounds of gasps and death.  He dangled there, suffocation as his ridiculous girth combined forces with gravity to end his evil life.

The kicking stopped, the eyes grew wide just as the liquid ran down his legs and dripped from his boots.  The hands haltingly fell away from the cord which killed him.  His last thoughts were of the meagre upbringing in a small village; of his mother and absent alcoholic father whose only parenting was to deliver beatings when the mood took him, and of the life of drifting and petty crime.  He had many memories and more regrets from his dull existence; the best times he had enjoyed were after the more successful people in the world had all gone.

He had so many wishes in his life and childish dreams of happiness; but the last thought he ever had was a memory of Dan telling him that if he came back that he would kill him.