by Loui Downing
‘Come along now bunny we don’t want to miss the flight now do we’ spoke Anna directed at Kerry taking a while to pack her belongings into the petit tattered suitcase that had been passed down. Bunny, a nickname Anna still uses, even though Kerry gets embarrassed on occasions, especially in front of her friends. As Kerry stuffed her clothes, toys and books into her suitcase and forced it down using all her might, resulting in sitting on it and finally clunking the attachment into place.
‘Ready Anna’ declared Kerry short of breath and an unbalanced pitch. Kerry had always referred to her parents by their first names instead of using mum or dad like her friends. Kerry bounced down the stairs clutching her suitcase in one hand and a magazine ‘pop mania’ that was particularly popular at the time in America. As they all placed the luggage into the boot of their ford, Tim assisting with the heavy items. Her father leaded over and said to her rather unusually ‘If it crashes I’ll make sure they get you…If it crashes I’ll make sure they take you’ said her father’s voice as he looked over her with no remorse.
Rupert opened his book looked at Kerry and placed his hand on her arm, clutching slightly and looking at her eyes. Noticing her eyelids moving slowly he gathered she was tired and was resting, so he retreated to his book, unfolded the corner fold down and started reading.
There was a judder of turbulence; Tim and Anna grabbed the hand of Kerry as the plane began to shake franticly, creating a sense of panic and despair for the passengers onboard. Passengers’ belongings flew angrily around the room as the plane jumped and dived, children screaming. Tim and Anna crouched down with their hands above their heads below their seat. The screaming increased, piecing the plane as the plane dipped helplessly like paper caught in an updraft. The very next second there was quiet…
‘You have it…use to avenge the very thing you desire’ said a broken deep voice. Kerry heard the voice and looked to her mother and said ‘who was that?’ whispered Kerry. ‘Who was what Kerry?’ replied Anna confused and shaken, unaware of where they were and what they were doing. Kerry looked around the room of the craft, where she is greeted to complete desertion, no one to be seen. Seats and rubbish along with shrapnel of the plane crumpled around them and covering the rear of the plane, making the area invisible. Kerry looked down to find a cut about a few centimetres above her knee. She wiped the cut and placed a sheet of cloth from close by, giving it a wipe from all the dust that coated everything, making her face look a pale brown and grey colour, accenting her eyes to an illuminating white.
‘Come with me!’ demanded a tall figure emerging from the rear of the craft. Kerry soon realised she was alone and called out her parents. The figure approached, getting nearer and nearer, as Kerry felt more anxiety, loneliness and very frightened.
Kerry looked behind her and the figure had disappeared, reassuring Kerry and making her feel a little bit safer. There was a cold draft of wind behind her, parts of the aircraft were everywhere, as she turned she froze. A tall figure with their face invisible slowly emerged in front of her as she turned around. Kerry leapt into the seat behind her, catching her elbow on the metal divide.
‘I can show you things you have never seen before’ said the voice hanging over Kerry’s head. ‘Nooo!’ replied Kerry in a rather scared but brave tone. The figure’s presence made Kerry’s hair unfold down her neck, sending an electric pain down her back. The figure leaned in on her, as she screamed with all her might.
‘Noooo, leave me, get away from me I want Anna and Tim, where are they?’ said Kerry with urgent aggression and a confused complexion.
The images of everything suddenly became like a view from a far, getting further and further away. She felt like she was floating away, although she could see herself down below, gradually getting smaller as clouds approached and everything turned black…
‘Kerry…Kerry…wake up’ exclaimed Rupert, shaking Kerry also. Kerry awoke looking shaken, eyes tearful and bloodshot and sweating profusely.
‘Are you ok?’ enquired Rupert as Kerry noticed that everyone around her was concentrating on her behaviour, and inciting panic among the few. Kerry took a few seconds to gather her thoughts and soon realised, she apologised to surrounding people, all assuring her that it is not a problem. Rupert placed the blanket around her shoulders, which slipped down moments before.
‘You were shouting out, something like no I don’t want to and where is…’
‘Anna and Tim?’ said Kerry inquisitively in slow motion.
‘Yeah, that’s them, you sure you are ok?’ said Rupert with care.
‘I’m…I’m fine thank you, I just had a bad dream…I just need to sleep that’s all’ said Kerry nervously, looking more drained and finding it hard to fulfil a conversation.
The ocean water clattered against the side of the English military vessel approaching Southampton docking bay. Fighter pilots, signal men, office workers and others were scurrying around on the deck as the planes came from the skies to land on the ships deck.
‘Sir, we have received intelligence that they are launching a night attack’ said the young assistant general Hopkins. The cabin that they were in was marble floored with a wooden counter finish with elegant décor on the ceiling that bore a knight on a stallion in red.
‘How long does that leave us?’ prompted General Goodman, looking disconcertingly at his assistant adjacent to him.
‘Two and a half hours’ sir’ replied Hopkins gleefully, not moving his head from the floor as he spoke. The general walked over to the coordinates of the ship, withdrew a map from his pocket and began deciding on what move to make next. The general placed pins where the enemy was and coins where the intelligence suggested the Iranians were stationed, in order to surround them.
The ship is around half a mile long, with the deck covered in planes, boats, helicopters, glide boats and normal cars. Guns and armory were placed at the tip, the sides, on the deck and rear. This contained machinery such as automatic guns, rifles, missiles, rockets, electro Macs, which sent electronic diversions to the enemy’s controls, causing them to wonder into dangerous territory, along with the normal handhelds. The distant wonder of the sea was apparent at the very front edge of the ship Frankie thought. He recalled the telephone call that had brought him here, and he thought rhetorically to himself why he was there, then the thought was picked from him by the sea’s crash around him, making him lose balance for a second. The dark pattering calm sea at night was slowly picking up into a state of uncontrolled aggression, as the waves battered against the side of the boat, impacting on the ships course. By now the sun was just settling and a quarter was visible that cast a murky orange path along the bed of blue tempting sea dwellers to follow. The vessel was heading to Rome, Italy where missiles were the perfect range to send from, allowing protection for the British and American soldiers.
As day became night the thought of what was about to come from Iran was spinning inside Frankie, creating a piercing pain in his stomach. The British army is preparing for the attack as well as the USA, covering the coasts around Northern England and fleeing people that are in danger from Britain as intelligence has uncovered England is the first line of attack.
‘To the people of Britain, we are facing uncertain times with Iran, concerning the country’s nuclear capabilities and plans. There shall be agreement talks running through the night, I want to assure the people of Britain not to panic. What is belief and what is right will prevail from this meeting, to only meet in the middle and promote equality will allow universal collaboration and conformance from the east with the west’ said Angelina May Evergreen, the prime minister of Britain addressing the country in the bars, clubs, cafes and restaurants all around the UK.
The perfect white overalls shone infectiously towards the workers of the inspection and examination team for the London Intelligence Alliance, clocking off and entering their cloakrooms and decontamination pods. Frankie entered with another colleague Stephan, his half Italian lunch buddy shortly after their
arrival holding a clipboard and what looked like a box of something wrapped perfectly. They were just about to start their shift, retracting their keys and inserting into the provided blue lockers. Stephan reached inside his locker and s [elected a bag of lunch that appeared out-of-date, he picked them out with caution, using the edges of the plastic bag to avoid any juices that may leak and placed into the faded black rubbish bag by the door they had entered.
‘I see Wendy’s been making you lunch then?’ said Frankie hastily, eying up the disgusting contents of Stephan’s bag.
‘Ha, yes I don’t have the courage to tell her I hate mayonnaise, even thinking about it now makes me cringe’ replied Stephan shivering at the thought of the sauce anywhere near him.
‘What we got on today then?’ said Frankie changing the subject slightly before Stephan talked for an eternity about his relationship.
‘Errm, I’m not too sure, I think it is looking at the documentation from Iran, the samples from the nuclear finds’ said Stephan in mid-thought.
‘I really hope there isn’t anything in there over the guidelines or we are, well you know what’ said Frankie gingerly. Both of the men walked to the clothing chamber and began putting their protective suits on, all in white they walked through the security clearance doors and into the invest room A. A loud hissing noise hooked Frankie’s ears on entering sending him to a crouch.
‘You ok Frankie?’ replied Stephan reaching down with a hand implying an uplift.
‘Sorry folks, we have new equipment and I haven’t got used to it yet’ said an automated voice, that of the examiner viewing and recording the events of the investigation and filming the proceedings for legal protection and evidence. Frankie found his feet and became upright once more, his sight slightly blurry, seeing clear and black spots as he returned to normal level again. Frankie gave a sharp look over to the women behind the glass, only to replace that with a weird sort of grin that confused the woman, giving a miniature frown from the forehead and then carrying on with what she was doing. Frankie returned to the room, perfectly lit in white along with them both wearing an all-in-one white suit with helmet and a clear eye slide for them to operate. Stephan looked down onto the table in front of them, where there was a mass collection of the findings from inspection in Iran’s on their nuclear division.
‘Looks like we will be here a while’ claimed Frankie selecting the items on the table, looking quite obtrusively at them despite their vulnerable appearance.
‘Certainly does my friend’ said Stephan part under his breath. As the time passed by, which Frankie eyed obsessively wanting to finish early as he detested this type of analysis due to the amount of weight is would carry on a worldwide scale. What he was investigating would save or jeopardise lives, homes and even countries. Frankie glanced up at the clock just above the viewing screen, swearing to himself that would be his last time he looked, it was thirty-five minutes past four and he finished at half five. Returning back to his work he discovered a turquoise liquid resting on top a microscopic piece of metal out of his electronic lens attachment. He carefully used his right hand to switch the spectacle microscope lenses to record. He then reached for an extraction pen, which slowly withdrew liquid. Frankie positioned the pen next to the liquid, sweating at an alarming rate. He moved the instrument in closer anticipating three times, before he made contact with the liquid.
There was an ultimate explosion…
The scribe behind the viewing glass awoke from sleep rapidly and saw Frankie cowering in the corner of the right hand side of the invest room, his helmet severed and blood stains on his midriff and face. The observer pressed a half yellow button on the counter and then followed by a red. Frankie and Stephan felt a substantial movement beneath their feet as the room moved. The wall they were nearest suddenly lifted into the air, where they saw more colleagues although they were in a red overall. The people emerging walked over briskly to Frankie and Stephan and guided them into a small chamber where their overalls were decontaminated. The contraptions that held them are cone shaped, trapping them in side and removing their clothes after decontamination. They were both showered and new clothing was provided in an efficient manner. Stephan watched as their clothes were disintegrating in the fire. Frankie followed Stephan’s eyes as he became absorbed to the flames licking the dangerous substances with the occasional bang and clatter inside the cage. Frankie’s mind wondered into the deep orange flame, it was then that he realised within a matter of hours the UK would be in a serious state of alarm.
As the announcement is made the country stands in silence, adjusting the volume to clarify the points being made, gasps and cries can be seen heard across London, Birmingham, Manchester, Cardiff and Dublin and Belfast, people taking to the streets stunned instantly. The streets were deserted ten minutes later, litter rapidly zooming around. Bridges and motorways overcrowded with people trying to escape. Horns beings pressed as the traffic piles up like collecting rain. Some people look astonished at the build up and leave their car to ascertain a better view of the problem. The UK is now in a mass state of panic and uncertainty at the possibility of war. The siren longed into the night declaring war and echoing around the capital like a drifting current.
Frankie took off from work and headed home nauseated and distressed to his apartment and his dog Miles. He awoke the next morning slowly trying to figure out where he was. He heard the letterbox rattle so he proceeded down the stairs and through the corridor to find a medium size pile of letters on the floor. He bent down to collect them when he was interrupted by the telephone cackling away in the lounge. He went to answer; in hindsight he may have wished he had looked at his mail first.
‘Hello Sir is this Frankie Marvel of the London Intelligence Alliance?’ enquired a sweet woman’s voice.
‘Yes, speaking’ said Frankie quietly.
‘It has been asked for your presence in Iran sir, the prime minister has seen your work and would like you right away to make further readings’ said the woman eagerly with a wisp of hope that he will accept without fuss.
Lensa struggled to carry Alexandra as she looked pleadingly towards Eric, whom insists on carrying Alexandra for the rest of the journey home. It was getting late Eric thought, noticing punters and louts on their expeditions for the night ahead in the city. The family carried on walking briskly, chatting about what they had seen in Mr Biggles’ shop around half an hour ago. Jessica was so excited she was bouncing around the road occasionally skipping, thinking over the answer to the riddle. Eric undid the strap of the baby attachment situated across his ribs and shoulder blades, and passed Alexandra over to Lensa who held her in her arms in a slanted position, stretched out over her body. He then searched his lightly faded jean pocket for the keys to the apartment, where he found them, pulling them out along with fluff and a small piece of paper that fell to the floor unknowingly. As the family entered the apartment and settled down for the night they had almost forgotten their trip tomorrow to the natural history museum, of which Lensa reminded Alexandra whose face lit up as soon as she was told, reaching for the brochure underneath her toy chest and reading.
The light lazily squeezes through the keyhole of Alexandra’s bedroom, shining onto her toy chest creating a beam of light blue around her room. The alarm clock on her desk just clicked over to six fifteen as Alexandra yawned and stretched and then turning over onto her other side to sleep some more. There was a noise coming from below her room in the kitchen, which sounded like a cooking noise, the hissing and spitting sound of eggs and the squelching crackling sound of bacon under the grill. Eric was wide-awake cooking breakfast for the family at an unusual hour. He always found that because his work involved an early start he could not get out of the routine. Lensa is showering, steam folding out of underneath the doorframe as she continued to wash. Alexandra was sound asleep still, although her parents knew that they didn’t have long before she awoke with a lovely morning scream for them and their neighbours to endure.
Eric slowed down the food and placed all into the oven and headed upstairs to wake Jessica, it is four minutes past seven now. Eric heads down the hall and enters a room with a sticker positioned on the front, that of a girl waving her finger addressing persons to knock before they enter, of which Eric briefly looked at and tutting is his usual way implying that she is just like her mother.
‘Come on sweetie pie, time for breakfast and then to the museum’ said Eric to the duvet crumpled up on the bed in front of him. Jessica opened her eyes slowly and looked up, seeing her father positioned near the door. A vast amount of light now beamed in, making her pupils retract and waking her.
‘Ok daddy I will get up now’ replied Jessica rubbing her eyes and switching her bedside light on. Eric left the bedroom door lightly open as he marched back down the hall and into his and Lensa’s bedroom, to find Lensa getting ready in front of her make up dresser, hair wet as she was drying it with a towel, as Eric shouted over the hairdryer that breakfast was cooked. Lensa looked over with an outrageous grin.
‘Be there in a minute hunny’ said Lensa loudly as the hot air swarmed from the dryer flicking her hair around spontaneously.
Eric served breakfast onto the plates as Lensa came down the stairs carrying Alexandra and soon following was Jessica. The family sat and ate their breakfast whilst watching the television news, which Lensa switched off before they had time to see the topics. Eric looked over at Lensa who did not reply and regained eating once more.
‘Twelve fifty adults, five pound children, three pounds fifty pence for concessions and students’ echoed a skinny man with a strong cockney accent selling London touring tickets at extortionate prices, as the Platts family walked to the underground station. The family bought their tickets and continued down the escalator reaching the northern line, which they boarded and Jessica counted the number of stops on the overhead map located in the train’s carriage. The rickety sound of the train began as it set off slowly, gradually getting faster, swishing around the people in the carriage from side to side. The carriage really did seem unsafe and very claustrophobic to Lensa, she always seemed to clam up when she took the train anywhere, desperate to reach her destination. The train growled with a screech of metal on metal indicating that the train was coming to a halt. Jessica vaulted to attention; only for her father to indicate that it was the next stop they wanted. Finally reaching their destination Jessica was the first to be off the train on what seemed a capacious platform compared to the carriage moments ago.
