Capital Falling Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Winkless, Lance

  The airport has two parallel runways running east to west and they are both lit up down their long lengths by their runway lights. The runways are some distance apart and separated by terminal buildings situated between them. Our Lynx is flying towards the airport in the centre of the two runways which snake away from us into the distance, with one either side of us. Aircraft are landing at regular intervals on both runways, but we haven’t seen one take off yet. We can’t see what type of planes they are; all we can see are the landing lights approaching and then landing. But my guess is they are mostly—if not all—military transport planes bringing in both troops and hardware.

  Before we make the perimeter fences that surround the airport, Dan—under the direction of the air traffic controller—turns left slightly, then straightens up whilst also slowing his airspeed.

  We are close enough to see the perimeter fences and the very heavy military presence positioned just inside, guarding the perimeter. Challenger tanks are clearly visible at regular intervals, set back in the grounds of the airport, inside the fences. Surface-to-air missile batteries are there too, pointing up to the sky, at least one pointing in the direction we have just approached from. In front of the tanks and missiles, sandbagged machine gun posts have been set up and then right by the fences, numerous troops are patrolling up and down their sections of the fence.

  Away to the right, there is construction being carried out right on the perimeter, with various lorries and JCBs moving under the bright work lights that have been erected over the area. An army of workmen moves busily under the lights; it’s hard to be sure from this distance, but it looks like the perimeter fence is being replaced and turned into a wall, and a high wall at that. The powers that be are taking no risks of the airport been compromised.

  We are coming in from the London side where the trouble is, but my guess is that the whole perimeter of Heathrow airport is just as well-guarded and will all have a wall around it very soon.

  Now closing in on the flight path of the South Runway, we are told to slow down further, and it is soon apparent why. A massive C-5 Galaxy transport aircraft lifts off in front of us; it’s a United States Air Force or USAF craft, markings clearly visible. It’s amazing how such a huge piece of machinery can defy gravity, but it takes off easily, lifting off into the night sky.

  Our speed picks up again and we pass the South Runway on our right, and Dan carries on following the airport's perimeter around. One of Heathrow’s large terminals is also on our right now and a mix of both passenger and military planes are parked up against it. All of the planes, you can bet, are in military use. Down to our left is one of the large carparks that surround the airport. It’s filled with military vehicles of all descriptions, apart from at one end of it. That end is piled up with normal passenger cars that must belong to travellers still out of the country. The cars have been bulldozed into the far end of the car park to make way for the military vehicles; they are now mangled into one big pile of metal and plastic, some of the cars still flashing orange lights from their car alarms which are probably sounding as well.

  Once we have passed the large terminal building, Dan takes us right and we fly over the perimeter fences and move into the airport grounds, which comes as some relief.

  We are heading towards a wide expanse of concrete in front of a cluster of massive hangars just to the side of the South Runway. The concrete is already filled with other helicopters, rows of Apache Attack helicopters and Lynx/Wildcats are lined up neatly ready for action. There must be close to 100 helicopters altogether, including the larger tandem-rotored Chinooks lined up on the grass verge between the runway and the concrete.

  Dan takes us down towards the helipad which has been set up just to the side of the grass verge, the large circled capital H painted onto the tarmac there. He is being directed down to it by one of the ground crew.

  As we make our final approach, two camouflaged Land Rover Defenders emerge from one of the hangars followed by a white minibus. They speed across the tarmac towards the helipad and come to a stop just short of it. The doors of the 4x4s swing open and six soldiers jump out from the vehicles, all of them carrying automatic rifles.

  “We have a welcoming committee then,” Dan points out.

  “No surprise there,” I reply.

  “How do you want to play it, Dad?” Josh asks.

  “We will play it their way for now. As long as they take us to Emily and the others, that’s the important thing right now,” I reply to everyone.

  Dan descends towards the centre of the helipad which the six soldiers are now encircling; they are all crouched down on one knee with their rifles pointing up at us, following us down. Something tells me we are not the first visitors they have welcomed like this today.

  The Lynx touches down gently, and Dan immediately kills the engines and then puts the rest of the cockpit to sleep.

  “Everybody stay put while I go and talk to them,” I say.

  Leaving my M4 behind in the cockpit with Dan, I pull the latch on my door and swing it up and open. The helicopter’s rotors are just coming to a gentle stop as I climb out using the small step that juts out from the side of the Lynx, a foot or so below the cockpit door. My feet hit the tarmac of the helipad together. It feels good to have solid ground under me and not be worried about any Rabids about to attack.

  I turn and take in my surroundings for a second; the soldiers that surround us are now standing but still have their rifles pointed inwards, in our direction. Beyond them are the Defenders and the minibus, and then virtually filling my sight behind them is the massively long hangar. Away to my right is another long hangar. Both of these are busy, with both people in military uniforms and people in civilian airport uniforms doing their jobs. A plethora of airport vehicles criss-crosses the open expanses between the hangars and the swarm of helicopters parked on the concrete on my left. The vehicles are carrying supplies of—amongst other things—fuel, ammo and missiles. Behind me, I hear another plane coming in to land, which from its sound, I would guess is a Hercules transporter. In fact, the general buzz of sounds whirling around in the air is just what you would expect at any busy airport, and this airport is busier than any on the planet right now, I think it is safe to assume.

  My concentration returns to the soldiers that have come out to greet us, or more likely arrest us, one of whom has moved a short distance towards me in front of the others. I start walking confidently towards him as I assume, he is in charge.

  “Hands on your head!” the soldier orders.

  Ignoring his order, I continue to walk towards him. I need to show him my authority if I am going to have any success in bending him to play this my way.

  The soldier, who I can now see is a sergeant, again barks his order at me more vigorously this time, but I still don't comply and am now not more than ten feet away from him. I can see that he’s unsure of what to do. He gives a slight look to his side, checking that his team is still there backing him up which gives his uncertainty away still further.

  At about five feet away, I come to a stop, not wanting to push him too far and not wanting to risk this getting out of hand.

  "Sergeant, I'm Captain Andrew Richards, Special Operations and under the orders of Colonel Reed, I'm going to get my ID out for you, okay?" I dispense with the Military Intelligence term because normal squaddies have an inherent mistrust of anyone attached to that particular department of the British Army.

  A slightly smug look crosses the sergeant’s face, however.

  “There is no need for that, Sir. We are here to take you into quarantine, it doesn’t matter if you’re a General or a Private. Everyone from offsite goes in quarantine. Get the rest of your people out here immediately, Sir.”

  There is no point in trying to argue or antagonise them further; these men are here for one reason, their lives and everyone else’s on this site depend on them doing their jobs properly.

  “Understood, Sergeant, I completely understand. One of my team
is injured and may need some help.”

  “Is he badly injured or can he walk? If he can’t get into the minibus, then another team will have to come and get him. We have to keep our distance, just in case?” the sergeant says.

  “We will be able to get him in, Sergeant. I’ll go and get them,” I tell him.

  “Leave all weapons inside the Lynx, they will be collected and stored, Sir.”

  “I’m keeping my sidearm, Sergeant, it’s my oldest friend.”

  The Sergeant thinks for a second.

  “Very well, Sir, empty it and you can store it in a locker with your other personal belongings.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  I slowly and deliberately take my Sig out and empty the gun. The Sergeant tells me to leave the magazine on the ground which I do, together with the last magazine I have for my M4.

  “Sergeant, my daughter arrived here about two hours ago, with three women and a man. I don’t suppose—” before I can finish, he interrupts.

  “Emily’s your daughter?”

  The relief of him saying her name is immense. “Yes, she is!” I say quickly. “Do you know where she is now? She will be worried; can you take me to her?”

  The sergeant smiles, “Yes we met them too and took them into quarantine, a lovely little girl, Sir. We will take you to the same quarantine area. She was upset though.”

  "Are they all okay?"

  "I think so, Sir, I haven't seen them since we took them into the quarantine block."

  “Thanks again, Sergeant, I’ll go and get my team.”

  Tim is still out of it. Dan and Josh must carry him, one under each shoulder over to the minibus. I help to lift him inside and into one of the seats. Our welcoming committee keeps its rifles trained on us the whole time. I notice blood splatters on the tarmac as we come over to the minibus and a couple of bullet holes. There has obviously been trouble with other arrivals coming into here, which had to be dealt with.

  Once we are all in, one of the soldiers outside pulls the door of the minibus shut. Up front, another two men have been sitting waiting for us. The driver is civilian and his passenger military. A steel and wired barrier separates us from the driver’s cabin and wire mesh covers the minibus's rear windows, I would also assume the door that has just been shut cannot be opened from the inside.

  The two Defenders pull off leading the way, and we follow. They don't turn towards the massive hangar that this column of vehicles emerged from, however, as I expected. Instead, they travel straight on and then slightly right to join a road that runs parallel to the runway and down the side of the hangar that was to my right when I exited the Lynx. We soon pass this hangar which is a lot thinner than its width and then pass yet another of about the same width.

  The left side then opens up into another large expanse of concrete, this one also filled with helicopters, and all of them, it seems, are Apache Attacks. I know for a fact that the British Military doesn't own as many Apaches as I’ve seen since we arrived here, and on further inspection, they all have USAF markings. Obviously, Uncle Sam has a part to play in whatever operation is being prepared for in earnest here at Heathrow.

  Our driver follows the Defenders as they turn left onto the road that goes down between the hangar on our left and the Apaches on our right. The minibus has to constantly slow or stop to give way to airport vehicles either making their way to or from the long hangar.

  “Whatever they are planning, it’s going to be big,” Josh says, seated beside me.

  We’ve been around the block enough to know preparations for a major military operation when we see one.

  “I was just thinking the same, Champ.” I’ve called Josh Champ for as long as I can remember. “How’s your arm?”

  “It’s fine, Dad, honestly, don’t go on and on…and stop calling me Champ,” he says smiling, but slightly embarrassed.

  “Okay, okay,” I smile back. “I’m just glad we found you.”

  “I know, Dad. I’m glad you did too, believe me. We just need to find Emily now.”

  “We will, she is going to be so happy to see you. She was very worried; you know how she gets, not that I can blame her this time though.”

  Eventually, we near the end of the hangar and as we do, most of the other traffic crossing our path clears. There is a smaller, but still a large building in front of us and judging from the loading bays across the left half of the building, it is some kind of cargo depot. The two Defenders head for the right side of the building and come to a stop just past the main entrance where two sentries are guarding, one each side of the entrance doors. They leave space clear for our minibus to pull up just outside.

  The Defenders’ doors open, and the same soldiers get out. They come around to the side of the minibus. As they do, they raise their rifles, pointing them at the sliding back door. There is a slight pause, however, as they wait for their sergeant to join them. He still stands by the door of the lead Defender, talking into his radio, his feet apart and his left hand on his hip, a stance of authority.

  “When we get in there we need to try to stay together, remember we are a team,” I say to everybody.

  “Too right, Boss. They will Never Tear Us Apart, three points.” Dan has a big grin on his face, Alice looks totally confused—and before I can say anything, Josh does.

  “INXS.”

  “Well done, Joshy boy, three points for you.”

  Alice goes from confusion to chuckling to herself.

  “You’ll get used to him, Alice, although it’s taken Josh and me a very long time.”

  “Boss, I’m hurt,” Dan says, fainting a wounded face and putting his hand on his chest over his heart.

  We are all now chuckling.

  Just as our chuckling dies down, the sergeant finishes his conversation and makes his way around to join his team. He goes over and talks to the two sentries, then turns toward the minibus. We faintly hear him give the instruction to 'open it up' as he does.

  The minibus door slides open quickly, coming to a stop with a bang.

  "Everybody out, except the injured one," another of the soldiers gives the order.

  "Hold on, why isn't Tim coming?" Josh protests and we all look at the sergeant.

  "He is injured; they can't deal with him here," the sergeant says. "I have just made arrangements for him to go into quarantine at the medical centre. We will take him there; don't worry they will look after him."

  "Andy?" Josh says, looking at me.

  "He needs medical attention, Josh, we will have to let them do their jobs."

  The rest of us get out of the minibus and the door is slid shut behind us, locking Tim inside.

  One of the sentries taps a code into a panel on the wall next to the entrance doors. There is an audible click and then the two men pull a handle each, opening the double doors.

  I think we are all apprehensive as we go to enter the quarantine area, but as we go in, it is completely underwhelming. Through the double doors, there is a small waiting room with a few worn chairs along the wall on the left. We go straight through this room into a fairly narrow, tired-looking corridor. The walls of the corridor are painted dark blue on the bottom half and then white up to the ceiling, while the floor has blue rubber tiles which are well trodden.

  Two of the soldiers that met us on the helipad lead us down the corridor and through the fire door at the end, which is also painted blue. Following a fair distance behind us are the other four soldiers, including the sergeant; they still have their rifles trained on us.

  The other side of the fire door is more open, there is a central well-lit area painted white throughout; this has various offices and other rooms branching off it. At the far end is a large office which has glass windows running right across the front of it. Inside this office, we can see a team of military personnel. I count five of them in there; they are probably managing this facility and all stop whatever they were doing to get a good look at us, the new arrivals.

  “Okay, find a
n empty locker,” the sergeant instructs as he pushes a door open to the right. “I want to see any belts, phones, lighters, body armour, helmets and any weapons you have to go into them, including your sidearm, Captain.”

  As we go into the room, he continues. “You will all be patted down on your way out, so make sure anything untoward is put in your locker. Once you have put everything in, use a zip tie off the table to secure your locker and make sure you take note of your locker number,” he says in a monotone.

  The room is full of various coloured lockers which must have been previously used by the drivers and other staff who worked out of this cargo facility. Many of the lockers already have zips ties looped through the holes where padlocks would normally go. There must be quite a few people here in quarantine.

  All four of us soon find empty lockers and while we fill them with our stuff, the sergeant tells us how it is going to work here.

  “As you have probably guessed, this was a storage and cargo building; it has secure cages of various sizes to store the valuable cargo in while it waits to be flown out or transported around the UK. We are using the cages to hold arrivals until they pass quarantine, and we will take you to one after we finish here. It’s not glamorous but it’s the best we can do at the moment.

  “Once you have settled in, one of the medical team will come and take your details and blood samples from each of you. These samples are then sent for testing onsite. The virus is pretty easy to detect but they have to take precautions, and there is currently a backlog at the testing facility so it will take at least twelve hours to get the results. So I suggest you get some rest. Any questions?”

  “Will I see my daughter, Sergeant?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Will we get food and water?” Dan asks, unsurprisingly.

  “Yes, of course, and before you ask, we have installed Portaloos in the cages. Right, if there are no other questions, let’s get moving,” the sergeant finishes.