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The Anomaly (Scarrett & Kramer Book 2)

Page 3

by Neil Carstairs


  “When do you come off duty?” he asked.

  Kramer put her key in the lock. “Lieutenant-Colonel Stanton, I’m sure you don’t mean to invade my personal space, but at the moment that is what you are doing.” Kramer opened the door as Stanton took a half step back in surprise. “I’ll assume you must be feeling tired which is why you were resting against the wall like that. If so, may I suggest you head back to your accommodation and get some shut-eye?”

  By the time she finished speaking Kramer was over the threshold. She turned, half closing the door, creating a barrier between them.

  “I’m sorry,” Stanton said. “I must have misread...” He trailed off.

  “There was nothing to misread,” Kramer said, her voice flat and her eyes narrow. “You just assumed.”

  Stanton took another couple of steps back. Despite the dark Kramer could see the confusion on his face. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not enough. He swallowed audibly, muttered ‘sorry’ and turned away. Kramer watched his retreat with relief. He’d surprised her a little. Most men in the military nowadays had received enough diversity training that they’d be hyper-aware of saying or doing the wrong thing with a colleague. Maybe her position made him think it was okay to make a pass at her. She was on secondment from the US Army to a top-secret unit called the Directorate of Special Investigations and was now working for a joint US/UK team based on British Intelligence’s Department of Environmental Security. That made her nominally a civilian. Stanton probably assumed he was onto a sure-fire winner. As she shut the door and dropped the deadlock, Kramer wished he had come too close. Then she could have handed him his balls in a bag.

  Thirty minutes later, Kramer lay in bed. The room was at the rear of the cottage and little or no light filtered in from outside. In the dark, she pondered what the Anomaly could be. Right now, it seemed benign. Villagers had passed through without any problems and Scarrett hadn’t seen or felt anything untoward. She figured to give it another day and then head back to Sheddlestone Hall. With Scarrett’s sister planning a wedding, it seemed like a good idea to request a couple of weeks leave so that they could head back to the States and find out what his future brother-in-law was like.

  And I can ask Chrissie all about Scarrett.

  Kramer smiled in the dark. Some decent gossip and a couple of family secrets that the deep background checks hadn’t found would do. She turned onto her side. Even though she’d slept alone for years, and she’d only shared a bed with Scarrett for a couple of weeks, she missed his presence. The bed felt cold without him and he finally seemed to have realised that she didn’t mind if he took the lead sometimes. In fact, she quite enjoyed that.

  Who’d have thought it?

  Somewhere in the night, an animal called out. Kramer shivered. The air seemed cooler, a damp touch on her face that made her turn again and bury her face into the pillow. The bed moved. A subtle shift as if a wave had passed beneath it. Kramer tensed. She listened to the tap-tap-tap of a cooling pipe or was it the sound of claws running across the rooftop? The sound faded. The air grew colder.

  Her phone rang. The screen lit up with dazzling brightness. Shadows scurried across the wall, faces that came and went with the beat of her heart. Kramer grabbed the phone from its resting place on the bedside table. Unknown Caller.

  “Hello?”

  “Joanne?” said Stanton.

  “What do you want?” Kramer sat up.

  “We have a situation. I’m sending a vehicle to collect you.”

  “With the Anomaly?”

  “No. At least I don’t think so.”

  “Then what’s wrong?” Kramer asked.

  “I’ll explain when you get here,” Stanton said. “The driver is leaving now.”

  ***

  Kramer checked her watch as she walked up to the group of soldiers and civilians clustered beneath a dull streetlight.

  Five-past-midnight.

  She stifled a yawn and reached around to the small of her back to adjust the holster of her Sig-Sauer automatic. A few clouds scudded across a night sky made bright by a rising full moon. Reaching the group, Kramer only recognised one face. Stanton looked like he should be sleeping off his alcohol intake. He nodded a greeting as Kramer asked, “What’s happened?”

  “Screams were heard from number eleven approximately an hour ago. Neighbours knocked on doors and windows but got no response,” Stanton said. “They alerted the night security team who called me out.”

  “And now?” Kramer prompted.

  “We wait,” Stanton said.

  “There may be people in need of assistance inside,” Kramer said as another vehicle approached, its headlights splashing the group with bright arcs of light.

  “And you are?” a man asked.

  “Joanne Kramer.”

  “Captain Kramer is on secondment from the US Army,” Stanton explained. “She’s been brought in as she has experience of previously unknown activities.”

  “What does that mean?” the same man asked.

  “It means we should be going into the property, not hanging around out here,” Kramer said.

  She didn’t get a response as the headlights revealed a Land Rover Defender that braked to a halt with a squeal of rubber on road surface. Three men jumped out, dark silhouettes against the still shining headlamps. Kramer got a glimpse of sub-machine guns as they closed and then she bit back a smile of relief as she recognised one of the newcomers.

  “Delta Five,” she said as the soldier stopped in front of her.

  “Captain Kramer. What’s a nice girl like you doing out at this time of night?”

  “Oh, I got an invitation to a party, but it turns out that everyone is just standing around talking.”

  “Well, it can get lively now the party animals are here.” He turned to his comrades. “Lads, this is one of the Yanks I was telling you about. Captain, meet Tiny and Macca.”

  Tiny was anything but. Kramer guessed he was at least six-five and built like a barn. Macca looked small beside him, but still beat her five-ten by a couple of inches.

  “And do I still have to call you Delta Five?” she asked.

  “Nah, call me Geordie, everyone else does.” He looked at the group. “What’s going on?”

  “Screams heard from the house over there,” Kramer said.

  “Anyone gone in?” Geordie asked.

  “Not yet, Sergeant.” Stanton stepped forward, trying to take some control back from Kramer.

  “Why not?”

  Stanton frowned, unused to being questioned by a lower rank. “Well, we were taking stock of the situation.”

  “From over here?”

  “Sergeant, I’m not sure you...”

  “Geordie is with me,” Kramer said.

  “He is?” Stanton looked at her in surprise.

  “He and his colleagues are from the Special Forces Support Group and have been assigned to work security with me. Now they’re here we can take over this situation.”

  Stanton didn’t think much of that but kept his mouth closed as Kramer drew her Sig and led the three soldiers across the road.

  “Thanks for that,” Geordie said. “Tossers like that piss me off. What is he?”

  “He’s a lieutenant-colonel. And supposedly in charge of this exclusion zone.”

  “Oh. Maybe I should apologise.”

  “I’ll do it for you,” Kramer said as they stopped in the small front garden of number eleven. The house itself was bland faced and what the British called a three-bed-semi. Lights were on behind the downstairs curtains.

  “Take a shufti ‘round the back,” Geordie told Macca.

  They waited. Kramer could hear the low murmur of voices coming from Stanton’s group. Geordie spent the time checking the kit hanging from the webbing he wore. Magazines for the MP5A sub-machine gun, a spare pistol, stun grenades and a combat knife. He glanced at Kramer.

  “Not really dressed for this kind of party are you,” he said.

  “It took m
e by surprise,” she said.

  “We’ll fix you up with some better hardware later. Is this likely to end up the same way as in Darlford?”

  “I hope not.”

  “We might be better prepared this time if we expect the worst.”

  “True,” Kramer shivered and blamed it on the cold night air and not memories of the quiet village in the Forest of Dean that had turned into a slaughter house.

  “Where’s your buddy? Thought he’d be here with you.”

  “He was earlier. He got recalled to Sheddlestone.”

  “I heard that some American bloke took a walk through the Anomaly thing.”

  “One did.”

  “Was that him?”

  “Yup.”

  Geordie laughed, “I wish I’d been there to see it.”

  “It was funny once I got over the shock,” Kramer said.

  “He’s off to get a spanking, is he?”

  “I guess so. Hopefully the powers that be will let him come back.”

  Geordie nodded. “A couple of days behind a desk will set him straight.”

  “How many in your team?” Kramer asked, changing the subject away from Scarrett. She didn’t want to think about him heading to the States without her.

  “Just us three,” Geordie said.

  Macca reappeared from the side of the house. “Downstairs is all locked up. There’s a light on in one bedroom with a window partly open.”

  “Easy to get to?” Geordie asked.

  “Need a ladder.”

  “Okay. Front door it is. Tiny, lead on. You and Macca take upstairs. Me and the Captain downstairs.”

  Tiny wasted no time. Walking up to the door, he put one short burst from his MP5A through the lock. He kicked the door open and ran inside, Macca tight on his heels. Geordie and Kramer followed them. Kramer saw a narrow hallway and stairs running straight up against the left wall. Tiny and Macca were almost at the top, both shouting “Army! Army!”

  Ahead, Kramer saw an open door to the kitchen. On the right was a closed door that Geordie shouldered open. Kramer stayed put, gun out in a two-handed grip as she covered the hall and kitchen. She could hear the Tiny and Macca clearing the rooms upstairs with the subtlety of a herd of rampaging elephants. She popped her head into the living room. Geordie had moved on through an archway into a dining area.

  When he saw Kramer, he said, “I can get through to the kitchen. You cover the hall.”

  Kramer stepped back out. She saw Geordie pass across the open doorway. As he did, Kramer noticed the half size door that covered a cupboard under the stairs. She pointed the Sig at it and waited. Geordie came out of the kitchen.

  “All clear,” he said.

  “There’s this cupboard,” Kramer said.

  Geordie looked at it. The hinges were on his side. “I’ll open, you check,” he told her.

  Kramer nodded. He wrenched the door open, and Kramer ducked into the closet. She saw boxes and bags and darkness. Pushing forward, she shoved a couple of boxes aside and felt around with her free hand. Dust and cobwebs and an old pair of shoes. She backed out as Tiny and Macca came down the stairs.

  “Clear,” she said.

  “Same up there,” Macca said. “Looks like someone had a shower recently and there’s signs of a struggle in the same bedroom that had the open window.”

  Geordie pointed them into the living room. “Half-eaten pizza,” he said. “Open bottle of wine and two glasses part drunk.”

  “Stanton said three people were assigned to this house,” Kramer said.

  Geordie looked at her. “Not anymore.”

  “They can’t just have disappeared,” Tiny said.

  “You wanna bet?” Geordie grinned at Kramer. “Looks like you’ve pulled the short straw again for weird shit happenings.”

  “Yeah,” Kramer sighed. “Let’s go give Stanton the good news.”

  Outside, the lieutenant-colonel stared open-mouthed at Kramer when she told him.

  “They can’t just have disappeared,” he said.

  “Wanna bet?” Kramer quoted Geordie as she turned away, following the three soldiers to their Defender.

  “Where are you going?” Stanton asked behind her.

  “I need to get some hardware so I can join the party.”

  ***

  tic-tac-tic-tac-tic-tac

  Lying in the dark, alone, Kramer imagined every sound to be approaching danger. She turned onto her side, slipping her hand beneath the pillow and grasped the butt of her Sig. Dawn seemed to be even further away than when she had finally made it back to the cottage. Geordie and the others had taken her back to their house and kitted her out with an MP5A, spare ammo, grenades, a knife and a digital radio to stay in touch with them. When he’d dropped her back off at the cottage Geordie had asked if she wanted to stay there on her own.

  “It’s only a couple of hours until daylight,” Kramer told him with a yawn.

  Now, back in bed and with her head still working on the problem of three adults going missing from a locked house, she began to wish she’d taken up the offer of a sofa to sleep on in a house shared by three Special-Ops guys. As the last sound that had disturbed her faded into the night, Kramer took a quick look at her phone. Zero-four-thirty. She wouldn’t get back to sleep now. An early start wouldn’t hurt.

  The lino floor of the bathroom chilled her feet as she washed and dressed. She didn’t think the shower had seen hot water since the 1960s and was happy that the feeble light didn’t show up all the grime and mould that lurked in the shadowed corners. Getting ready in the cold pre-dawn dark, Kramer headed downstairs for breakfast consisting of three slices of toast. Geordie had told her that the village hall had been taken over and would provide hot food from six in the morning to nine at night. ‘Average’ was how he described the items on offer. Right now, as she left the house with the eastern sky only showing a hint of the rising sun, she figured anything hot would taste good.

  Kramer had dressed in walking boots, jeans and a T-shirt that she’d topped off with a jumper and fleece top to keep out the chill. She also took with her the guns and grenades Geordie had supplied. What Kramer wanted to do was explore the village, to get an idea of the lay of the land and the locations of points of interest before the place woke up too much. She hadn’t planned on the area being swathed in darkness. The few streetlights were clustered around the new build estates to the south and east of the old village centre. The original village made up of groups of stone cottages clinging to the sloping terrain that fell towards the sea.

  Tape and military vehicles cordoned off the road that held the Anomaly. A dozen or so soldiers shivered their way through the last few hours of their graveyard shift around the cordon. Kramer gave them a wide berth. She followed what the locals called the main road. It seemed barely wide enough for two vehicles and God forbid you wanted to take a truck down the winding road. The incline sharpened considerably at one point and made Kramer lean back against the slope.

  The small harbour came into view, security lights on the slipway gave a decent view of a couple of dozen fishing boats that lay stranded on mud now that the tide was out. Kramer stopped halfway down the hill. Going all the way down would mean coming all the way back up and although her fitness was good, there was no point in doing all that work for no reason.

  Back up the hill, feeling the strain of the slope in her thighs, she crossed over the Anomaly road and followed finger signs to the village hall. The catering unit was awake and preparing breakfast but hadn’t opened yet. She kicked her heels for a bit, reading the notice-boards that advertised fitness groups, toddler sessions and pilates. Finding a bench to sit on, she dug out her phone and tried Scarrett again.

  Straight to voicemail.

  She pulled a face at the phone and stuffed it back in her pocket as the double doors to the village hall opened and a burly chef called over to her, “We’re ready for you now.”

  Inside the hall, the catering team’s hot food units lined one wall. Kr
amer stopped when she saw three men already eating at a table. Geordie waved her over.

  “Up early?” he said.

  Kramer looked at the men. “So how come you get to eat before this place opens up?”

  “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know,” Geordie told her with a smile.

  Kramer sighed, dropped the MP5A onto the table and headed over to the food. It looked like the British army existed on sausage, egg, beans and toast.

  Plate loaded, Kramer sat opposite Geordie. He sat back, sipping at a mug of tea.

  “Sleep well?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “We want to take a look inside the Anomaly,” Geordie said.

  “So do I,” Kramer said around a mouthful of fried egg. She knew she’d regret eating this later. The food would sit in her stomach like a lead weight but right now, after a long night and with a long day ahead, she needed this.

  “The guards have been doubled,” Macca said.

  “That just makes it more fun,” Geordie laughed.

  Kramer felt her spirits rising. Food and good company did that. Plus a little adventure to look forward to.

  ***

  The problem with Scotland, Ben found out, was just how big it was. Not big like the States, but the road seemed to run forever as it wound its way along the coastline north of Aberdeen. His taciturn driver, a grey-haired, overweight policeman with halitosis, had little in the way of conversation. Ben tuned out when he grew bored of the passing countryside, which coincided about the same time it became dark. The driver didn’t seem bothered when Ben yawned and popped his seat back. He slept for a few hours and when he woke it had grown even darker as storm clouds blanked out any starlight. Ben checked his phone and saw the no service symbol. The battery symbol was low as well, so he switched it off and asked the driver if they had much further to go.

  He translated the answer as ‘an hour or so’.

  Ben sat out the next eighty minutes until they reached a small coastal town that huddled around a bay where the waves flashed white as the wind threw them at the land. The driver dropped him off at a blue painted bed-and-breakfast where the owner had waited up for Ben. It didn’t take long to get booked in. The owner told Ben that a local police constable would pick him up at eight and breakfast would be at seven. Ben checked his watch, saw they’d left midnight behind an hour earlier, and did nothing more than make a passing visit to the bathroom before he hit the sack.

 

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