Sir Malcolm is seated on top of the toilet lid, slouched backwards against the cistern with his head so far back, it is resting against the wall. All I can see is the bottom of his chin and his nostrils. The tiled wall behind has a small hole in it, about a foot above where his head is resting. And there, surrounding the hole, is a circle of splattered blood and brain which is slowly flowing into red streaks as it runs down the glossy white tiles. On the floor to his left is a glass tumbler half full of what I am certain is single malt whiskey, whilst on the floor to his right is his old army-issued revolver.
My heart sinks. Sir Malcolm had his faults, and he was certainly an old dinosaur, but he was a very determined and intelligent man. Even though he was born into wealth and could have probably lived very comfortably on that wealth, he had the drive to build Orion into an extremely successful company which gave him and many others wealth that far outstripped anything they were used to. He was sixty-eight years of age and still ran this company like it was his baby, so how could it end like this, blowing his own brains out all alone and sitting on the toilet?
My first inclination is to just pull shut and relock the bathroom door, leaving Sir Malcolm in peace as he is, but I force myself to enter. There is a chance that he may have the information Colonel Reed is seeking, either in the room with him or actually on him. It could be on a flash drive in his pocket for all I know.
Sir Malcolm may have been old, but he was very tech savvy, he made sure of it; he never wanted anyone to have the upper hand on him, so it is entirely possible the files are now digitised. I scan the bathroom for anything that could possibly contain them. But there is nothing, so I search Sir Malcolm himself. Checking his pockets, I try not to disturb him but again come up empty-handed; if he did keep copies of these files, they are not in here.
Shutting the bathroom door as I leave and relocking it, I find myself standing in the middle of Sir Malcolm’s lounge area. Should he have kept any files, they would be in here somewhere, I am sure of it. He didn’t like taking any work home with him when he did leave the office, he made a point of keeping what personal life he did have separate. He believed that if you had business to take care of, the workplace was the most efficient place to do it. That is probably why he spent so many hours here, six or seven days a week; for the most part, you don’t build such an internationally successful business doing school hours.
Looking around, I soon come to the conclusion that there are only two possible places where the files could be, and neither is going to be easy to access, unless.....
Sir Malcolm’s computer is switched on, which is positive. Now, if he has left it logged on, I will have access to at least one of the possible places. The other place is Sir Malcolm’s safe which is hidden away, built into the long rosewood sideboard that runs along the back wall next to his beloved drinks cabinet, actually, more like a bar when fully opened. The safe is also fixed to the floor and I doubt he’s left it unlocked; if he had, I would expect the sideboard to be open because the safe door swings out. But I will investigate after checking his computer, just in case.
As soon as I move the mouse, the large flat screen illuminates, showing me the log-on screen. Shit. I have no idea what the password would be and knowing Sir Malcolm, there is no way it is going to be something simple like one of his children's names. Leaving the computer for now and going over to the sideboard containing his safe, I lower onto my haunches. Feeling a bit of anticipation as I slide the door across, it glides open effortlessly, as all the furniture in this office is of the highest quality. Again, I hit a brick wall. The safe is, as I expected, closed and locked. Staring at the safe which is also of the highest quality and is not going to be opened easily, I try to think of different options to access both his computer and the safe.
Behind me, there is a knock at the door and it opens.
"Andy?" Catherine's voice asks. "Is everything okay? Dan is here. Where is Sir Malcolm?"
I push myself up off my haunches and turn to them.
"Come in, both of you," I say before walking over to one of the couches and sitting down. Catherine and Dan both enter, Catherine taking a seat next to me and Dan takes the couch opposite.
"Emily is fine and still sleeping," Catherine says, reading my mind.
"Okay, thanks, good," I say. "How did you get on downstairs?" I ask Dan.
"Everything is sorted, the weapons are secured away as is the food, and I have a list of everything here," Dan replies.
"Thanks, mate, you keep hold of that for the moment. Is everyone okay down there?"
"Yes, Boss, Mick is handling them well and will let me know if they need anything, but what’s happening here? Where is Sir Malcolm?"
"I am afraid Sir Malcolm is dead; he has shot himself in his bathroom."
Dan doesn’t really show if he is shocked or not, but I hear Catherine gasp. I look at her and can tell immediately she is both horrified and upset. I reach over putting my hand on her shoulder.
"About ten minutes ago, I spoke to Colonel Reed and he gave me some other information," I tell the two of them.
I proceed to tell them about the information and request the Colonel gave me. This time, both look surprised and at least it has taken Catherine's mind off the other news I just shared with them, somewhat.
"Have you found any files?" Dan questions.
"No, but I believe there are only two places Sir Malcolm would keep such files, either on his computer which is password-protected or in his safe which is locked. That is as far as I had got when you two came in," I tell them.
“Well, maybe I can have a look at the computer, while you two see if you can do anything with the safe?” Catherine volunteers.
“It’s worth a try,” I reply.
We all get up, and Catherine goes over to Sir Malcolm’s desk while Dan and I start looking at the safe.
The safe is, of course, state of the art, requiring both a code and a thumbprint, and while we can get the thumbprint if we have to, the code could be any sequence of numbers and we don’t even know how many digits.
“How are your safe-cracking skills then, Boss?” Dan jokes.
Smiling, I reply, “I must have been ill on the day it was covered in training, to be honest. How are yours?”
“I’ve always found that a block of C4 usually does the trick, but it isn’t so clever with the contents, normally.”
“Okay, in all seriousness, we are not going to get it open. Let’s see if we can at least break it free from the floor so we can move it,” I suggest.
“Andy,” Lindsay’s voice comes from behind me. I get straight up, anticipating what she is going to say next. “Emily is starting to wake up.”
“Thanks, Lindsay,” I say as I start to leave the room.
Before I reach the door, I come to a stop. I didn’t get to have that shower, so I quickly pull the Velcro on the side of my body armour and whip it off, then unbutton my shirt and take that off too. This leaves me just wearing the white t-shirt I had on underneath, which is better. I then go out into the lounge area.
Emily is still lying on the couch with her head on Stacey’s lap, but she is definitely stirring and waking up and I am quite excited to be able to see her properly at last.
“Hey, sweetie, have you had a good nap?” I lean over and kiss her, and she makes some moaning noises which is quite normal for her as she wakes up. This moaning does not deter me, however, and I pick her up off Stacey and into my arms before sitting down next to Stacey on the couch. She snuggles into me, making more tired moaning noises; she is slightly damp with sleep sweat but it feels so good to have her in my arms.
Stacey looks like she has been napping too.
“Thanks for staying with her, Stacey, are you okay?”
“Yes thanks, I’m thirsty though.”
“Why don’t you go and get a drink and stretch your legs? Catherine and Lindsay are in the office over there if you fancy a change of scenery and they will fill you in with what’s been going on?”
“Yes, I think I will, do you want a drink?”
“Yes please, that would be good. Just a juice and could you just turn off the TV please?”
Stacey turns off the TV then goes into the kitchen. She is soon back with my drink and then goes through to Sir Malcolm’s office. Over the next ten minutes or so, Emily wakes up fully but stays snuggled into me. She asks me questions, her head resting on my shoulder as she asks about where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing. I answer her as fully as I can, leaving out the gory details whilst trying to let her understand what is going on.
Sitting with her, the closed blinds making the room dim, is quite relaxing; you could almost forget the horrors of the day. Josh is worrying me constantly though, and as Emily and I sit, a plan starts to form in my head.
Emily is soon saying that she is thirsty and as much as I’d like to sit with her for a while longer, I need to get up and carry on. I haven’t even been back to see Stan yet. The time is nearly three o’clock; I wonder if they have managed to get anywhere in Sir Malcolm’s office.
After getting Emily a drink, we walk into his office, Emily holding my one hand, while in the other is her glass of juice. Catherine gets up from the desk and makes a fuss of her, and the three of us join Stacey on the couches.
“Have you had any luck with the computer?” I ask Catherine.
“I’m afraid not, the password could be anything and I didn’t know Sir Malcolm that well. Have you any possible ideas?”
“Nothing that wouldn’t be a complete guess. Did you try things related to cricket and Lord’s?”
“Yes, everything the three of us could think of. I couldn't get any internet connection on my phone to Google more possibilities though.”
“How about you, Dan, is the safe moving?”
“No luck there either, Boss, that thing is solid. It will take C4 just to break it free from the floor to move it!”
“Right, we aren’t going to get into either right now, but I think I have a plan.”
Suddenly, all the lights and Sir Malcolm’s TV switch off.
“Dad, what’s happened?” Emily asks, afraid.
“I don’t know, it looks like a power cut, but don’t worry. It will be back on anytime now,” I tell her, expecting the building's generators to kick in quickly and restore the power.
A few moments pass and nothing happens, then I hear Stan shouting my name from outside and my radio also starts squawking for me. Trying not to look panicked, I squeeze Emily's hand and tell her to stay put while I go and see what Stan wants. Giving Dan a look and seeing he is ready, we move.
Exiting the office, we see Stan looking panicked coming out of my office and just about to shout into his radio again, when he sees us.
"The power is out, Andy!" Stan shouts to me, "and the generators have failed."
I run over to him. "Yes, Stan, why haven't the generators come on?"
Stan looks frightened, really frightened and for a second, I can't understand why he does. Then it dawns on me and I feel my stomach turn.
"All the doors are unlocked," Stan virtually shouts at me. "They are coming up the stairs!"
"The doors, they can get through the stairway doors," I say, stating the obvious. "Stan, have you got your keys on you?"
"Yes."
"Good, they will have a stairwell door key on them. Lock the doors, starting with the one in the reception area by the lift."
Stan is gone, running toward the seventh-floor reception before I even finish talking, as am I, towards my office.
"Dan, get hold of Mick now, tell him to barricade the doors down there; do it now!" Dan is immediately shouting into his radio.
There is a set of keys in my desk. We need to get the other stairwell door locked that is situated between Sir Malcolm's office and the rest. The keys are right where they were expected to be. I grab them and run back out of my office towards the stairwell, and as I’m approaching it, Catherine appears.
“What’s going on, Andy?”
She, of course, is very concerned at the sudden panicked action but I can’t risk stopping to explain, so I ignore her for now and turn right into the small area between the offices, where the door to the stairs is located. The thick wooden fire door has one of those thin, long-wired glass panels set vertically into it. This doesn’t show me anything, however, because the stairwell beyond is almost dark. For all I know, Rabids are about to burst through the door. It is designed to swing inwards so I jam my foot against the bottom of it while l search for the correct type of key. These keys have been stored in my drawer for a long time, so long I can’t even remember the last time I had them out.
They were issued to me when we moved into the building and I carried them for a while, but only ever used my office key. So I took that one off and chucked the rest in my desk drawer, where they have stayed. The keys are unfamiliar to me, so I don’t know which one is for this door; it usually locks electronically, the same as all the other doors do. I have wondered in the past why the doors needed key locks if they are locked electronically. And now I know; it’s as a backup.
As I fumble around with the keys, my foot jammed hard against the door, looking for the right type of key, noises can be heard coming from the stairs. The first key I try fits but doesn’t turn. There are about four others of the same type to try, but it then strikes me that I’m not even 100% sure there’s a key on my bunch for this door. The second one doesn’t turn either, the noises are getting closer and then I hear the now familiar Rabid screech, echoing up to me.
“Andy?” Catherine is now standing at the opening behind me, but again I ignore her.
My hands are sweating and as I get another key ready to try, I drop the whole bunch onto the floor. Fuck! Now there is no way to know which I’ve already tried! As I pick them up, Catherine comes in, takes my hands and takes the bunch off me. I give her a look of disbelief.
“Trust me,” she says. She then calmly attempts the keys in the lock methodically and locks the door on the fourth attempt. We stand there in silence, looking at each other for a second.
“I assume that the electric locks have stopped working and these things are coming up the stairs?” she asks.
“Yes, they will probably be at this door in moments,” I confess.
“Well, we had better make sure they can’t get through it then.” Wow, she is cool.
Dan’s voice comes back into focus. He is still talking very loudly into his radio and from the sound of it, hasn’t got through to anyone downstairs. We come out from by the stair door and start to walk over to him. As we near him, gunfire starts from below our feet, and we all freeze, Dan with his radio hovering in front of his gaping mouth.
The noise from below is dulled but the noise of gunfire clear enough, and other noises soon join it. They are faint, but screams, human screams, are mixed in with the sound of Rabid screeches and the gunfire. An explosion goes off followed by another and the floor shudders under our feet; they sound like they are positioned over near the corridor that leads to reception, from where Stan appears looking shaken. The gunfire is increasing, getting more rapid as more explosions hit, one under the stairwell area we just came from.
“Daddy,” Emily cries from behind me.
I turn around to her and she runs across the floor and jumps into my arms, Stacey and Lindsay follow her across to join us. Stan has joined us now too and we all stand in a circle together, looking down at the floor, imagining the fate of our friends and colleagues below.
Chapter 15
“Daddy, are the monsters coming here next?”
Emily asks me the question quite matter-of-factly, which surprises me somewhat. They say that children adapt quickly, but surely, she isn't getting used to this new world already? I’m having trouble coming to terms with it myself.
The sickening noises from the battle below us continue; it sounds like they are putting up a strong fight judging by the amount of gunfire and explosions. Maybe they can force the Rabids
back and secure the floor again?
"Mick come in, Mick come in, is anybody receiving this?" Dan is trying his best to get a response from anyone downstairs but there isn't one coming back.
I suspect all the noise below is attracting the Rabids to the sixth floor, which is why we haven't heard them at our door yet. This distraction could stop at any time.
"We need to barricade the doors to the stairs. I don’t think the locks will hold them back for long," I tell everyone. "The one out by reception should be easy enough, furniture can be used to fill the gap between the door and the wall opposite so the door can’t be opened. Dan, can you and Stan take care of that one?" Both men nod in agreement.
As they move out, I tell Dan to keep trying his radio, to which he replies, “Of course.”
“Right ladies; it’s up to us to get the door in here barricaded. This one is going to be a bit trickier because there is no wall opposite the door. We also need to do it as quietly as possible.”
“Dad, can I help?”
“Yes, my love, as long as you’re careful.”
I put Emily down, but she doesn’t stray too far from my side. The noise from the battle downstairs is in full flow but there is nothing we can do to help them.
“We are going to have to work out the best way to block that door. I think we should start with a desktop against it then maybe stack as much heavy furniture against it as we can?” I suggest.
“Well that’s a start,” Catherine says, “why don’t we go and get one of the desks out of the meeting rooms, they are big and heavy?”
“Okay, just let me get my rifle from Sir Malcolm’s office.”
Quickly going to retrieve my rifle, Emily comes with me and asks a few questions about it when she sees it. I tell her it’s just in case I need it. By the time we get back, Catherine has gone to the meeting room and we all go to help her.
Catherine is already moving one of the heavy desks over towards the door. She has kicked off her shoes, which lie discarded on the floor, and she’s barefooted. I ask Lindsay if she can go to the storeroom and see if there is a trolley in there that we can use to help move the table, and then ask Stacey to hold my rifle. She looks very unsure about this but after showing her the safety is on, she takes it from me. The M4 looks big and heavy in her hands. Catherine and I soon have the table out of the meeting room, just as Lindsay returns pushing a two-wheeler sack truck which we use to move the table over to the stairwell door. We then lift the table into position with its top flush against the door and its feet sticking outwards.
Capital Falling Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 14
