Enemy Within: A heart-wrenching medical mystery (British Military Thriller Series Book 3)

by Nathan Burrows

  Adams reached for his phone and snapped a couple of photographs as the Chinooks flew over his head so he could send them to her later. Then he put his foot back on the pedal of his bike and pushed off, heading in the same direction as the Chinooks. While he cycled, he watched them ahead of him. One of the helicopters had hung back, and the other was flaring as if it was about to land. He could see the outline of a man in the side hatch, and knew it would be the loadmaster leaning out, counting down their altitude for the pilot in the front. At the same time, he could see the rear ramp of the first helicopter slowly coming down. Unless Adams was mistaken, they were landing in the playing field just next to the emergency department.

  Military exercises in the area weren’t unusual and, as the military provided support to the civilian agencies on occasion, a practice landing next to a hospital wasn’t unheard of. But as an officer in the RAF, Adams was fairly sure that he would have heard about it. As he watched the second helicopter coming in to land a short distance from the first one, Adams started to get annoyed that he’d not been involved in the exercise. The first one had definitely landed in the playing field. Adams was now close enough to see troops running out of the back of the helicopters.

  There were one or two things bothering Adams about the whole thing. The first was that he couldn’t see any fire appliances. When medium body helicopters like Chinooks landed on at the hospital, there was supposed to be fire cover. The second was that there was no-one on the ground to make sure no civilian members of personnel tried to approach the helicopters from the wrong angle. The front blade of a Chinook could dip to within five feet of the ground at times, just the right height to decapitate someone. There should have been a marshal on the ground to guard against that. But what Adams hadn’t expected was the soldiers running out of the back.

  He couldn’t be certain what was happening until he got to within about a hundred feet of the helicopters, which were shutting their engines down. Adams watched as the soldiers separated themselves into small groups before splitting up into twos. One group of two was hammering stakes into the ground while the other two were running along with a roll of tape to the next group with mallets. Adams knew what they were doing, but he didn’t know why. They were putting a cordon around the emergency department.

  Although that was a concern, it wasn’t the most worrying thing that Adams could see. Each of the soldiers had an SA-80 rifle slung on their backs. Something was missing. There should have been a small yellow piece of metal on the end of the barrels. A blank firing attachment that stopped explosive gasses from blank rounds injuring anyone. The fact that they were missing could only mean one thing.

  This wasn’t an exercise.

  87

  Lizzie lay in bed, relieved it was a Sunday morning. She had an absolute bastard of a headache. It was sitting right behind her eyes, and the pain pulsed with every heartbeat. Maybe it was an age thing, she thought, getting a hangover without drinking much. She’d only had a couple of glasses of palm wine and a few of Pinot Grigio. She rolled over in bed to check her phone. To her surprise, it was almost lunchtime, and there was a text from Adams waiting for her.

  How could she have slept for so long? Lizzie had gone to bed before midnight, and she vaguely remembered getting up in the middle of the night at one point for a pee, but she’d slept for almost eleven hours.

  Lizzie opened the text message. It was a picture message and, while she waited for the picture to load, Lizzie realised the house was eerily quiet. There should have been someone up and about, unless they had all decided to sit in the garden or something. The picture eventually appeared on the screen. It showed a couple of Chinook helicopters, flying quite low, with the Norfolk and Norwich hospital in the background.

  Queen of the sky…xxx the accompanying message read. Lizzie smiled and then winced. Since when had smiling made a headache worse? She was just tapping out a reply to Adams when there was a soft tap on her door.

  “Hello?” Lizzie called out. She couldn’t be arsed to get up and open it. If it was one of the boys, then they would just have to accept the fact that she was still in bed. But it wasn’t, it was Divya.

  “Hey, Lizzie,” Divya said. Her voice was soft, and Lizzie had to struggle to hear her.

  “You okay, Divya?” Lizzie said, looking at her friend. Despite her dark skin, Divya looked pale but had dark circles under both eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re hungover as well?”

  “I don’t drink, Lizzie, you know that,” Divya replied with a sniff. “But you’re right, I feel awful. Listen, have you got any tampons or towels I can borrow? My period’s come on, and it’s much heavier than usual.”

  “Of course, Divya,” Lizzie said sympathetically. “They’re in the bathroom cupboard. Just take what you need. I’ll get some more next time we go shopping.”

  “Thanks, Lizzie,” Divya replied. She closed the door softly behind her.

  Lizzie put her head back on the pillow, seriously considering going back to sleep. She had just closed her eyes when she heard someone shouting from the floor below. It sounded like a woman’s voice, perhaps Claire or Isobel.

  “Help me!” The voice was high-pitched and urgent. “Someone please help me!”

  Lizzie threw the covers off her bed and sat up, surprised by a sudden wave of dizziness. It soon passed, and she got to her feet, grabbing her gown from the back of the door before making her way down the stairs.

  The shouting was coming from the bathroom on the first floor. Just as Lizzie got to the bottom of the stairs, she saw Claire coming up from the ground floor.

  “What’s going on?” Claire asked, looking at the bathroom door. It was ajar.

  “I don’t know,” Lizzie replied, crossing to the door and opening it. It hadn’t been a woman shouting. It was Jack. He was standing in the middle of the bathroom, staring at Obi’s unconscious form on the floor next to the toilet.

  “I can’t wake him up!” Jack said, almost squealing.

  “What’s happened?” Lizzie asked him, crossing to kneel next to Obi. She put her fingers on his neck to find his carotid pulse, which was slow and bounding.

  “We’ve both been ill in the night,” Jack replied, on the verge of tears. “It was that bloody palm wine. Obi got up a while ago and crawled into the bathroom. He couldn’t even walk. I heard him throwing up, and then I just heard a loud thump.” He looked at Lizzie in desperation. “I came in here and found him like this.”

  Lizzie shook Obi’s shoulder.

  “Obi,” she shouted in his ear. “It’s Lizzie. Can you open your eyes for me?” Obi just grunted in response, but Lizzie saw his eyes flickering. “Jack, Claire, can you help me get him into bed? Claire, you take his other arm. Jack, take his legs.”

  Between them they half-carried, half-dragged Obi back into his bedroom and heaved him onto the bed. Obi groaned as they rolled him over onto his side.

  “What do you think’s wrong with him?” Claire said, her voice fearful.

  “I don’t know,” Lizzie replied, glancing at Jack. He looked awful. “How’re you feeling, Claire?”

  “Shabby as anything, to be honest,” Claire replied. Lizzie could see her bottom lip quivering. “Isobel’s still in bed as well.”

  “What’s going on?” Lizzie muttered to herself.

  “Do you think it was the palm wine?” Claire asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Lizzie replied. “Divya looks like death warmed up, and she didn’t have any.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Just give me a minute, Claire,” Lizzie said. She needed some time to think. How could they all get sick overnight? Was it a bad batch of bottled water? That was the only thing she could think of that they’d all had.

  “Will I phone Charlotte? She’s a doctor,” Jack said, on the verge of tears. “Lizzie,” he said. “I feel awful. My joints are all on fire.”

  “She’s not that type of doctor, Jack,” Lizzie replied, “but it’s probably not a bad idea. She could maybe get a m
edic out to see us.”

  “I’ll do it,” Claire said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and leaving Obi’s room.

  “Are you sure?” Lizzie called after her, but Claire didn’t respond. “Do you want some painkillers, Jack? I think I’ve got some in my room.”

  “I don’t think I’d be able to keep them down.”

  “Have you been sick?”

  “I was last night.” He looked down at his shoes. “I had some diarrhoea and terrible stomach cramps.” When he looked up at Lizzie, his eyes were wide. “Lizzie, I’m scared.”

  “It’s okay, Jack,” Lizzie said, forcing as much reassurance into her voice as she could. “We’ve probably all just picked up a bug or something. They can go round places like this really quickly.”

  “I don’t think it’s that, Lizzie,” Jack replied as a fat tear rolled down his cheek. “When I was sick, and also, you know, the other end, it wasn’t normal.”

  “How d’you mean?”

  “There was blood in it. Lots of blood.”

  88

  “Claire, calm down,” Charlotte said into the phone. “Just take a few deep breaths and calm down.” She waited, listening to Claire breathing heavily down the line. When she thought Claire was a bit calmer, Charlotte injected a note of authority into her voice. “What’s going on?”

  “Everyone’s sick,” Claire gasped down the line. “Obi won’t wake up, and everyone else is ill. What do I do?”

  “How do you mean, sick?” Charlotte asked, forcing herself not to smile. Although Claire was distressed, Charlotte didn’t want the girl picking up on it from her voice.

  “Obi collapsed in the toilet. He’d thrown up, and then he collapsed. I looked in the bowl and it was full of bright red blood.” Claire was talking rapidly, barely pausing for breath. “Jack’s sick as well, I feel like shit, and so do the others.”

  “What symptoms have they got? And you, what symptoms do you have?”

  “I just feel like crap. I’ve got a banging headache and my arms and legs hurt.”

  “Have you vomited?”

  “No, I haven’t. But Obi has, and it’s bright red in the bowl.”

  “Yes, you said,” Charlotte replied. “Just try to calm down. How is Lizzie?”

  “She doesn’t look well, but she’s not as bad as the boys.”

  “Isobel? Divya?”

  “I’ve not seen either of them, but Lizzie said Divya looked awful, so it wasn’t the palm wine or the horrible Kola stuff because Divya didn’t have any, and I’m not sure if Isobel did either.” Claire paused for breath before continuing at the same rapid pace. “What do I do, Charlotte? I don’t know what to do!”

  “Stay calm, Claire,” Charlotte said. “Let me make some calls, and I’ll get a medical team out to you. Okay?” In the background, Charlotte could hear what sounded like an animal screaming. “What’s that noise?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “I’ll stay on the line. Go and find out what’s going on and come back to tell me what’s happening.”

  Charlotte heard the mobile phone being put down with a loud thud. She could still hear the keening noise in the background. There were some shouts, but Charlotte couldn’t tell who it was who was shouting. She glanced at her watch. It was almost midday, so exactly twelve hours since she had started the third study. A moment later, Charlotte heard the phone being picked back up again.

  “Claire?” Charlotte said. “Are you there?” All she could hear was the sound of sobbing down the line. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Obi,” Claire shrieked. “Lizzie thinks he’s dying. He’s…” Claire sobbed again before taking a deep breath and carrying on. “He’s bleeding, Charlotte. From everywhere. What do we do?”

  “Claire, listen to me,” Charlotte said forcefully. “I’ll send some help. I’m going to end the call now and call a hospital. Someone will be with you soon. Okay?” There was silence, and all Charlotte could hear was Claire crying. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” Claire eventually replied with a sniff. “Tell them to hurry.”

  Charlotte disconnected the call and breathed a deep sigh before smiling. She’d known that the third study wasn’t needed. It sounded like everything was working exactly as it should be. She looked at the screen of her phone and scrolled through her contacts to find the one she wanted, and pressed it to call them. A few seconds later, the call was answered.

  “Hello?” a man’s voice said.

  “Simon, it’s Charlotte. Get the plane ready.” Charlotte looked through the window of her chalet at the sky. The last thing she needed at the moment was for them to be grounded by poor weather, but the sky was clear blue with barely a single cloud in it. “We’re leaving early.”

  “Okay,” Simon replied. “I’ll let the captain know. When do you want to take off?”

  “As soon as we can. I’ve just got a quick call to make, and then I’ll head over to your chalet. We can head to the plane together.”

  “Yep, got it. See you soon.”

  Charlotte disconnected the call and picked up another phone from the table. This one was a Nokia brick, bought by Jojo somewhere in Freetown and topped up with enough credit to make a single call. While Charlotte waited for it to power up, she scrolled back through the contacts on her other phone to find the number she wanted. The Nokia burst into life a moment later, and Charlotte carefully entered the number into the phone and pressed the call button.

  “Hello? World Health Organisation, Freetown Office.” The woman on the other end of the line sounded sharp and business-like. Charlotte took a few seconds to compose herself, remembering how Claire had sounded a few moments previously.

  “Hello,” Charlotte said breathlessly. “Please, can you help us? I don’t know who else to call.”

  “This is the World Health Organisation?” The woman sounded uncertain.

  “I know, but I don’t know who else to call. I’m in a house with some friends, and everyone’s sick. I think my friend might even be dying.” Charlotte managed a sob, but she wasn’t sure how convincing it sounded.

  “When you say they’re sick, can you describe what’s wrong with them?” the woman asked, and Charlotte could hear papers rustling in the background. Hopefully, she would write all of this down.

  “We’ve all got headaches and joint pain,” Charlotte said, making sure her voice was higher than it normally was. “Sore throats and abdominal pain. Quite a few of us have been sick, and it’s bright red.”

  “What’s your address?” the woman asked, her voice suddenly deadly serious. “Give me your address, please?”

  Pressing her lips together so that she didn’t smile, Charlotte read out the address of the White House and listened as the woman read it back to her.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Charlotte said when she had finished. “That’s where we are.”

  “Listen,” the woman said. “Don’t leave the house and don’t let anyone in. Okay? Whatever you do, stay where you are and make sure no-one leaves or no-one else joins you. There’s a team on its way.”

  “Thank you,” Charlotte breathed down the line. “Thank you so much.”

  She hung up and finally allowed a smile to cross her face. Charlotte got to her feet and grabbed her bag.

  It was time to go home.

  89

  “Can you stay where you are, please, sir?”

  Adams ignored the soldier’s barked instruction, curious to see what he would do next. He kept walking toward the man.

  “I said stay there!” Adams took another few steps forward and, in the corner of his eye, saw a couple of other soldiers running over. He stopped where he was, waiting to see if any of them would actually raise their rifles in his direction, but they didn’t. Obviously, they had been told to be nice.

  Within a few seconds, he was looking at three soldiers in front of him, all standing in a line. There were two lance corporals and a corporal, all wearing maroon berets with the much coveted paratrooper cap badge. On their sh
oulders was the distinctive badge of 16 Air Assault brigade, complete with its winged horse. Unsurprisingly, it was the corporal who took charge.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” he said in a firm but non-threatening voice. “This area’s restricted.”

  “But I work in there,” Adams replied, pointing at the emergency department beyond the tape. “I need to get through to get to work.”

  “Sorry, sir, but like I said, this area’s restricted at the moment. The department is sealed off.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I can’t say sir, but I can’t let you through.” Fair play to the bullet catcher in front of him, Adams thought. He was doing okay with the whole military civilian relationship thing.

  “You can’t say, or you don’t know?” Adams tried again to get some more information out of the man.

  In reply, the corporal took a step forward. He was much larger compared to Adams, both in terms of height and bulk. He reached out and took Adams by the elbow, turning him round so he was facing away from the department.

  “Listen, mate,” the corporal said, as they both took a few steps forward. “Let me level with you here. We’re under orders not to let anyone inside that cordon. I don’t know, and I don’t care, why you’re not allowed in there. I’m just a soldier. Now could you do me a favour and just fuck off?”

  Adams had to laugh, which, from the look on the soldier’s face, wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. He considered for a moment asking to speak to the corporal’s commanding officer, but then he would just end up arguing with a sergeant instead of a corporal.

  In the distance, the sound of a third Chinook could be heard. Adams wandered over to the playing field to watch it coming in. He wasn’t interested in watching it land. He was much more interested in what came out of the back of it.