“It’s unknown at this time, but it’s likely they moved on. When they’ve exhausted all sources of food, it’s been noted that large groups of infected tend to leave and search blindly for more,” Hall explained.
“I haven’t heard about any of our squads heading there,” Tyrone interjected, “which must mean the town was decimated before we could get there and the infected have dispersed into the surrounding areas?”
“Actually, Woodhill was removed from our list of search operations,” Hall told them.
“Further evidence that there’s someone in the chain of command who is working against us,” Maxwell stated.
“So when do we leave?” Jack wanted to know.
“Immediately. Bridges and Smith are already prepping their gear, which means you’ll need to brief them once you’re in the air.”
“No Rodriguez?”
“No, he’s on a special assignment at the moment and won’t be available. Besides, as you’re going underground, a talented marksman like him might find the surroundings somewhat limiting,” Maxwell explained. Jack nodded.
“Anyone else on the team?”
“There’s one other individual: Gabriel Ridgewell,” Maxwell declared with such gravitas that his expression flickered to disappointment when the name didn’t seem to ring a bell with Jack.
“Who’s that?”
“Sergeant First Class Gabriel Ridgewell is an expert in the disarmament of explosive ordinance. If there’s a self-destruct device the likes of which we’ve not seen before, he’s our best candidate for figuring out how it works and how it can be neutralized,” Hall explained.
“I’ve heard of him,” Tyrone piped up. “He’s a good man by all accounts, though I’ve heard he’s a little acidic.”
“Genius often is,” Maxwell returned. “But he’ll be a strong asset to the team, Jack.”
“Okay, so is there anyone else joining the party? Maybe a battalion to help us secure the facility if it has- been overrun by the undead?”
“Just the five of you, we can’t spare any other assets at the moment.”
“I’m going too,” Emma insisted suddenly.
“Doctor Reed, we need you—” Hall started, but Emma interrupted her sharply.
“You’re now telling me that after I barely managed to avoid Bolvinox security in the first place, there’s every chance your organization is responsible for the creation of Bolvinox,” she stated incredulously. “I’m sorry, but the only person I trust is Jack, and from now on I go where he goes.”
“You’re not a combat operative, Doctor, it would be a total waste of your talents to have you—” Hall was in the process of countering when Maxwell interrupted her.
“Actually, I think that might be a fine idea,” he announced suddenly, to the surprise of everyone in the room, who turned to look at him in unison. “There might be data that requires someone familiar with the Bolvinox systems. Emma might be able to facilitate that.”
“You’re being uncharacteristically accommodating, Maxwell,” Jack declared. “There’s something else on your mind.”
Maxwell smiled; it was sinister and conveyed that he did indeed have something else at the core of his suggestion.
“You know me too well, Jack. But the truth is, sooner or later I’m going to have to make a ruckus about what I know. While whoever is at the head of Bolvinox might be resigned to the fact that Emma survived and we retrieved the data she stole, there’s still every chance they might want to take a shot at her.”
“Okay, but at least here you’ve got a number of guards. If she’s out in the open...” Jack trailed off. “You want to use her as bait?”
“I do, but not in the way you think. Only the six of us know about the Redshield mission so far - including Gabriel - and eight when you bring Bridges and Smith up to speed. If something does come about because of my investigations, I want them to think Emma is somewhere they can get their hands on her - but they’ll come up empty. If that does happen, then we’ll trap them and get some answers from whoever turns up.”
“So you want her out of the way so you can go spy hunting,” Jack announced.
“It’s a calculated strategy, but I don’t see why it can’t work.”
“And what will you tell people who ask where Doctor Reed has disappeared to?” Tyrone asked. “It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.”
“I’m going to schedule a second chopper at the same time you take off and circulate the rumor that Emma was aboard it. I’ll order the pilot to take a slow route to a distant base, which should give me enough time to move my investigation to the next stage. Any more questions anyone?”
Jack looked at Maxwell then glanced at Hall. It was clear from the expression on her face that she hadn’t been privy to this plan of Maxwell’s, but despite that, Jack did feel that keeping Emma close would allow him to protect her. Certainly, she’d proven capable in Dewbury, in terms of resolve as well as handling weaponry, so he knew she could be an asset to the team.
“I’m happy to have her aboard,” Jack added.
“Excellent, then the plan is settled. Dispense with the additional security, Elizabeth,” he added, and she tapped on her tablet and returned the room to its normal, clear glass walls. “Jack, go and get ready, your bird is lifting off in twenty,” Maxwell concluded the meeting abruptly. Jack stood and moved to the door, Emma behind him and Tyrone bringing up the rear. As he opened it and stepped through to the other side, he was laden with curiosity over what they would actually find in Woodhill, and ultimately, the Redshield Facility.
WATCHING JACK AND THE others leave, Hall waited for the door to fully close before turning to look at her commander.
“Why did you—” she started, but Maxwell cut her off again. The constant interruptions were beginning to wear on her nerves.
“I always planned on getting Emma clear of the immediate line of fire, Elizabeth, and this was the best opportunity. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, you're a fine officer - a fine leader. You’re going to need to keep working here, even if what I’m going to try to do goes sideways.”
“What are you saying, sir?” was her shocked response.
“I’m saying if I successfully flush out the person responsible for this I’ll be gunning for them alone.”
“I don’t think that’s wise, sir. It could be extremely dangerous.”
“I’m sure it will be, Elizabeth,” Maxwell told her, retrieving another cigarette from his nearly depleted pack. “But if I flush them out and it doesn’t go my way, then I need two assurances: firstly, that someone’s carrying on with the work here and secondly that there’s someone who has an understanding of the true nature of this outbreak in a position of command. If I die, Elizabeth, you need to find another way to bring them down in case they’re planning something much worse.”
Hall looked at Maxwell gravely, feeling a deep concern for her commanding officer. He was, however, absolutely right.
Chapter Two
ON THEIR WAY OUT, JACK, Tyrone and Emma stopped by the armory in the command center. They dressed in urban combat fatigues with full body armor. Emma said it was a little heavier than she was used to, but was grateful for the extra protection rather than running around in civilian clothing as she had in Dewbury. Jack and Tyrone took suppressed assault rifles as their primary weapons, with suppressed pistol backups. Emma was equipped with a suppressed pistol primarily but also took the fire axe which had been extracted with her from Dewbury. Having explained it was a weapon she was comfortable using in close range or when stealth was needed, the sergeant in charge of the armory made a sling to hold it. Now it could hang over her shoulder when it wasn’t in use. Jack could see her point: it was decently balanced and the long handle allowed her to keep a little distance between herself and her target. Jack and Tyrone were comfortable with her decision, but both men took knives for melee combat. Finally, Jack took a tablet computer in a pouch which hung from his belt. He briefly tapped o
n the screen to ensure it connected to the Coalition network, before downloading the necessary data packet. It contained maps and all the information about Woodhill and the Redshield Facility they had accumulated. The armory clerk informed them that Bridges, Smith, and Ridgewell had already claimed their gear - suppressed assault rifles for all three of them of the same calibre as Jack and Tyrone, with suppressed pistol sidearms - and were waiting for them at the helipad. After being equipped and performing a brief check on their helmet communications systems, they left the command center and hurried over to the helipad to find the two helicopters spinning up in anticipation of lift off.
“Major Ramsay, sir!” Smith greeted.
“Hey, Bossman!” Bridges acknowledged. His nose had started to heal after being broken during his interrogation, though it was still bruised and swollen. His leg was healing nicely and provided him with almost no restriction in mobility, owing to the glancing nature of the wound. Despite those injuries - as well as losing one ear - he had been reassigned to active duty that morning because they were running out of fully able-bodied men and women. His attitude, however, was still the same cocksure one he had possessed before his interrogation at the hands of Bolvinox’s security team.
Ridgewell had been fumbling with his backpack inside the helicopter, but turned to face Jack as he, Tyrone and Emma approached.
“Major Ramsay, sir, I’m Gabe Ridgewell,” he introduced himself, pushing past Bridges as he disembarked the vehicle. “I’ve heard good things about you.”
“As I have you,” Jack said. Ridgewell popped a quick salute that Jack returned, but then he shook his head. “I’m not really back in the service, so we don’t do salutes around here.”
“Fair enough. I’m not a fan of ceremony either,” Ridgewell returned. He was a rugged looking man, maybe in his late forties, with a smattering of stubble across his rather angular features. His nose was large and, added to the way his chin almost came to a point, gave him an almost bird-like visage. His eyes were gray and his hair, a standard military buzz cut, had a sprinkling of gray just visible amongst the black. While maybe not a handsome man, he looked energetic and ready to get involved in the operation ahead of them.
“So, zombies, eh? What a surprise that shit is,” he stated as he looked at Jack.
“You’ve been out to the front?” Jack questioned.
“Of course, man, it’s all hands on deck for the end of the world. It’ll be a relief to get back to something that can only blow me up. Or, well, us up,” Ridgewell said with a grin. Jack couldn’t quite place his attitude. Was it merely a confident front he had erected or was he really as calm about the situation as he appeared? Either way, it didn’t matter.
“Great. Let’s get this bird in the air!” Jack declared.
“Yes, sir!” Smith said as she climbed into the helicopter, before turning to help Bridges. While she was still permanently angry with him for whatever transgression she held against him from their past, she seemed to be able to set it aside, particularly when he needed assistance. Jack believed her slightly more giving attitude towards him was probably because he ensured he took the brunt of the Bolvinox interrogation when the pair had been captured. Ridgewell got aboard the helicopter unassisted and took the furthest seat. Jack and Tyrone helped Emma clamber inside, and no sooner had they shut the door and taken their seats than the helicopter began to lift up and away.
“So, what are we doing and how did we get so lucky we get two full squads as support in the other bird?” Bridges asked loudly, even though he was speaking over the helmet’s radio.
Jack gave them the mission briefing as concisely as he could, but the truth was they were flying a little blind into Woodhill. Sure, the scans indicated it was clear of the undead, and a lack of thermal signatures for living personnel suggested there were no Bolvinox security members waiting for them on the ground, but they had no idea what lay within the Redshield Facility.
“Sounds like we’re heading into another shit show and those squads are just getting a nice little ride,” Bridges summarised.
“Shut up, Bridges,” Tyrone told him assertively. Jack agreed with attempting to enforce some discipline, but he also knew Bridges wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Bridges, we’re probably going to need your technical expertise at some point, whether it's to gain entry to the facility or to hack into the computer network. Hopefully, however, they’ll be using the same file structure and Emma will be able to get directly to the data and begin the transfer.”
“If it’s anything like Bluefield then it’ll mostly be a closed network,” Emma started. “However, there will be a secure terminal that will allow outside access, that would have been necessary to enable them to transmit data to other Bolvinox facilities.”
“You think your login credentials will still work?” Bridges asked her.
“I’ve no idea, but it’s a place to start.”
“So what can we expect to see down there?” Bridges wanted to know.
“You didn’t read the debriefing report Emma submitted?” Smith asked him.
“I was wounded and recovering,” he shot back defensively.
“You lost an ear, not your eyes,” she sniped.
“Quiet,” Tyrone declared. “Doctor, if you please.”
Emma turned to him briefly, and then her gaze swept across their attentive faces.
“If it’s like the Bluefield Facility, it’ll be split over multiple subterranean levels. The first will be mostly administrative, plus the living quarters. There’ll be a security room there too, providing oversight for all the levels below: laboratories, storage areas and... holding pens.”
“Holding pens? For the infected?” Bridges quizzed.
“They had them for their test subjects too,” Emma answered, her voice growing faint as a dark expression passed over her features.
“We’ve no idea what they were studying there, but we should be prepared for anything,” Jack announced. “Our first priority will be locating the security room, maybe from there Bridges will be able to access the system to get a look at what’s going on below.”
“The other floors should all be accessible via a primary elevator that connects all the floors. They will likely each be protected by keycard readers and or access codes, so we’ll either need to run bypasses on each one or locate a working keycard,” Emma added.
“Which will likely be on one of Bolvinox’s security team,” Jack stated.
“Who will either be a zombie or trigger happy when he or she sees us. Whichever they are, they’re going to try to kill us,” Bridges summarized.
“We don’t know that’s what they were researching down there, though,” Emma declared.
“What do you mean?”
“As I’ve reported before, there were reports of mutations in certain infected - we’ve seen one, the ones your people colloquially call the runners. We haven’t discovered much about the mutations because that was the most heavily encrypted data I was able to steal, but what we have gleaned tells us that the research into how and why the mutations were occurring was conducted at satellite facilities that took extra precautions to contain them.”
“So Redshield might be a containment facility for a mutated variant of the infected?” Bridges asked, and then he scoffed. “This mission gets better by the second.”
“Do you have any information on different mutations?” Tyrone asked.
“No. I didn’t see any at Bluefields, and other than the runners, we haven’t received any confirmed information on mutations in Dewbury or any of the other conflict zones,” Emma told him.
“What exactly makes the runners different?” Smith wanted to know. “Why are they so much faster than the other undead?”
“Well, I was party to one autopsy and it seems that the virus...” Emma trailed off, seemingly trying to think of a way to explain what she’d seen. “So, the virus reanimates the dead with basic motor controls and the most primal need: to eat. It’s one hundred percent
contagious: no one is immune. The small amount of data we’ve gleaned suggests that maybe ten percent of those are susceptible to mutation. The runners, for lack of a better term, have some genetic marker we were unable to pinpoint that causes the Genetic Material X component of the virus to hyper stimulate the senses and impulses to allow that particular infected to regain full movement once rigor mortis has passed. Further, there’s also some stimulation of the muscles, strengthening them, allowing for increased speed.”
“Whoa,” Bridges commented.
“So the virus is also able to target specific markers?” Smith asked.
“It is, though what’s not clear was whether this was intended when the virus was developed, or if it is some kind of... side effect,” Emma answered. Bridges shook his head.
“Great, a zombie virus with side effects. I’m not sure if it can get worse than that.”
“Why develop such a thing in the first place? What could they possibly want from a zombie virus?” Smith asked incredulously.
“The virus is one hundred percent lethal. Imagine dropping it in a small target area. It kills the initial enemies, who then get back up and go hunting for more targets. If there was some way to stop them once the mission was complete, it'd be almost perfect,” Tyrone summarized. Jack looked at him in surprise.
“You really think that?”
“No, but Smith wanted to know what they were thinking. I’d imagine it was something along those lines.”
Tyrone’s statement, however, killed the conversation for the moment.
“So what’s Ridgewell’s job here?” Bridges wanted to know a few minutes later, reviving the exchange of information.
“I’m here to make sure you don’t get your asses blown up by whatever self-destruct protocol is in place,” Ridgewell returned. “Show’em the crater.”
Jack retrieved his tablet, scrolling through the pictures stored in the briefing packet, and then showed Bridges and Smith what remained of the Bluefields Facility.
“Holy shit!” Bridges exclaimed.
The Z Directive (Book 2): Mutation Page 2
