The Anomaly (Scarrett & Kramer Book 2)

by Neil Carstairs

  “Is that all?” she asked as Congrave fell silent.

  “For now. Let me know if anything isn’t achievable.”

  “Security for the web-conference might be difficult,” Daisy said. “The people Ruth recommended as experts are on three different continents.”

  “Then fly them here,” Congrave said.

  “They might not want to come,” Ruth put in.

  “Talk to them. Explain that they have an opportunity that will never happen again in their lives.”

  “They’ll want details. I can’t offer them any.”

  “Use your charm. And offer them free flights, free accommodation and a thousand pounds a day retainer.”

  Ruth blinked. “That’s more than I’m getting.”

  “We can match that for you while they are here,” Congrave said. “Make a note of that, Daisy.”

  “Done,” Daisy said.

  “Well if that’s all, Ben and Reuben, you know what I want. Ruth, you too.”

  The group split up. Daisy headed down to reception and resumed her place. The guard who’d stood in for her went away with a smile as she said a very nice thank you. For the next fifty minutes, she made the calls Congrave requested and tracked down items on e-bay that might help over the next few days. She paid on the department credit card, happy to be spending someone else’s money. When she’d completed her tasks, she called down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and settled down to drink it as the clock ticked towards midday.

  Her desk had two monitors, one for her PC, the other for the security cameras that covered the Hall and its grounds. As she sipped her drink and doodled on her writing pad, she saw a white van appear on the security monitor. It approached the Hall along the tree-lined driveway. Interesting. She switched cameras to a head on view and enabled the automatic number plate recognition software. It took four seconds for the report to pop up. A Mercedes Sprinter van on fleet rental to a hire company. In the time the van took to pull up in front of the Hall and reverse back towards the front entrance Daisy logged on to the security services national computer. She used a backdoor password to access the hire company’s database. With one eye on the van and the three men who stepped out, she pulled up the current hire details.

  The men had the side door open and were hauling out a large crate. Daisy studied them as they pulled a wheeled trolley into place. Plain, dark overalls with no company logos. She drummed her fingers on the desktop. The hire company showed the van was out to a national distribution outfit she’d never heard of. Daisy waited as they used the disability ramp to bring the crate up to the front doors. She put her hand under the desk and checked the Sig-Sauer automatic was still in its quick release holster strapped to the underside of the desk. On the shelf below the gun stood three stun grenades and five spare clips of ammunition. She let one finger rest on the alarm button that would call the Alert Team up from the kitchen where they spent all their time drinking coffee and eating chicken and mayo sandwiches.

  The men and the crate came into reception with a lot of swearing and a chunk of wood taken out of a 17th Century cabinet. When they saw Daisy watching them, they looked embarrassed. The one with the clipboard came towards her. Daisy waited, looking passed him at the crate. Did that just move on its own?

  “Delivery for a Mr... Congrave,” he said, dropping the clipboard on the desk and giving her the once over.

  “We weren’t expecting any deliveries,” Daisy said.

  “So? You expect computers to be right all the time?” he turned the clipboard. “Says here, one crate for Mr Congrave.”

  Daisy didn’t drop her eyes from the box. Clipboard Man stepped in front of her to get her attention. Daisy decided she didn’t like him. Her finger twitched on the alarm button.

  “Well?” Clipboard Man asked.

  “Step away from the desk,” Daisy said.

  “What?”

  “The desk.” She met his eyes. “Step away.”

  “Blimey, love, no need to get all snooty just because you work at a posh place like this.”

  The box rattled as if something inside had woken. Clipboard Man turned at the sound.

  “What was that?”

  His two colleagues stared at the crate. It rocked, and a sound like a trapped cat came from inside.

  “Is that a fucking animal in there?” Clipboard Man said. “We’re not supposed to transport animals.”

  The crate exploded. Splinters of wood fired out, peppering the two nearest workmen. They fell, screaming as wood shredded flesh. Daisy mashed the alarm and slid her hand six inches to the left. She snagged the automatic out and had it levelled across the desk as Clipboard Man turned to her.

  He saw the gun. “What the fuck?”

  “Get down,” Daisy snapped.

  A shadow came out of the ruined crate. Daisy saw red eyes and claws. She fired twice. The creature separated, became two and then four. They launched themselves like wildcats at Clipboard Man and Daisy. She got two more shots off before the beasts took the delivery guy down in a welter of spraying blood. Daisy ducked out of sight. Three of the creatures tore into Clipboard Man, and the fourth leapt onto the desk and peered over the edge at Daisy.

  She shot it between the eyes. The thing fell back. Daisy stuck the gun over the desk and fired blind. Where the hell are the Alert Team? She heard howls of fury and knew the creatures were searching for her. Level with her eyes stood the shelf of stun grenades. She put the gun on the floor and grabbed one flash-bang. Flipped the pin out with a thumb, prayed, and chucked it into the reception area. By the time she had her gun in her hand the first of them had appeared. Daisy emptied the magazine into its fang-lined mouth face.

  The grenade detonated. Daisy ejected the magazine and slapped another home. She popped up and shot another beast in the back of its head as it stumbled away from her. There should be one left. She saw more than one. She saw six, and they became twelve in a heartbeat.

  Jesus Christ.

  Daisy gunned down the closest creature. The others turned at the sound. Their red eyes centred upon her like lasers and they leapt forward in a howling mass. Daisy retreated until her back hit the wall. She levelled the gun and fired. One down. Another. Then another. Daisy opened her mouth to scream as the first of the creatures reached the desk and vaulted it towards her. A door crashed open.

  The Alert Team. About time the lazy bastards.

  She shot one dark-skinned thing in mid-flight and then dropped like a stone. The next one face planted the wall above her as the five men of the Alert Team emptied the magazines of their MP5As and filled the reception with a hurricane of lead. Daisy lay on her back, a stunned beast across her body. Rounds peppered the desk, and she said a quick prayer of thanks to whoever decided to pay for the armour-plating. The creature raised its head and stared at her. Its face seemed almost feline. The body a mass of solid muscle as it stirred. Daisy put the muzzle of her gun to the thing’s forehead and blew its brains out.

  Yuk. Daisy closed her eyes. The broken skull leaked brain matter and blood onto her clothes and the stench made her stomach flip. She closed her mouth and swallowed hard on the surge of vomit that filled her throat.

  Silence. At least she thought there might be silence but her ears still rang from the all the gunfire and the grenade blast.

  I’m alive.

  She took a breath and smiled. All that training and here she was. Alive.

  “Daisy?” one of the Alert Team called out.

  “Yeah.”

  “You okay?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  A figure appeared around the end of the desk. Robert, Alert Team commander. He reached down and pulled her to her feet. She just about stayed upright on shaking legs. Reception had been well and truly destroyed. The chunk of wood knocked out of the cabinet by the delivery guys didn’t show at all now. Daisy tottered to her chair and sat gratefully on it. She looked down in disgust at the blood and body parts stuck to her clothing.

  “Who are the b
odies?” Robert asked, nodding at the vague human shapes lying amidst the carnage.

  “Delivery guys,” Daisy said. “Their van is outside.”

  “Fletch?” Robert called out. “Take Jacko and Will and clear the van out front.”

  Daisy found she still held the gun and laid it carefully on the desktop. She wanted to cry in relief but figured Robert might think her a wimp if she did. Congrave appeared, tiptoeing between the corpses and flanked by two armed bodyguards. His eyes met Daisy’s, and he must have read her mind because he said,

  “We’ll get you cleaned up as soon as possible.”

  “Thanks,” she said with a shaky smile, looking down at the mess till clinging to her. “I don’t think I’ll bother dry cleaning this outfit.”

  He came around the desk to stand next to her. “Better the clothes go out in a bin bag than you go out in a body bag.”

  The tears came. Congrave put his arms around Daisy. He hugged her and said, “You did well.”

  “No thanks to the Alert Team. What took them so long?”

  Robert, still standing close by, said, “We were here in nine seconds.”

  “Really?” Daisy sniffed and wiped tears from her cheeks. “It seemed longer than that.”

  Robert nodded. “Times does drag when you’re in that kind of situation. And I think you did better than just ‘well’. I think you rocked.”

  “Thanks.”

  He smiled. “Come on we’ll get you down to the kitchen. There are sandwiches still to be finished, and cook’s got a bottle of scotch that needs opening. You get the first glass.”

  Daisy walked away with the Alert Team, a diminutive figure as they patted her on the back and congratulated her on a job well done. Congrave walked back up to his office. At the top of the stairs, he met Ben.

  “Looks like you need to get the decorators in,” Ben said.

  Congrave stopped to look back down at the mess. “Indeed. But first I need you and Reuben to speak to Daisy. I heard her say that this started with a delivery. Trace it.”

  “Will do.”

  Congrave rested on the balustrade. Ben still next to him. “This was too close to home,” he said.

  “Cornwall, Scotland and now here,” Ben said. “We don’t know which way to turn.”

  “I’ve been summoned to London.”

  “The way you say that doesn’t sound good,” Ben said.

  “It’s not. I’ll be at a meeting with Cobra, chaired by the Prime Minister. Some of my allies in Whitehall have told me to prepare for the worst.”

  “Which is?”

  “Either I’m sacked and you get a new boss, or our whole department is broken up.”

  “But that’s ridiculous,” Ben said. “It was only a few days ago that your P.M. thanked you personally for our work at Darlford.”

  “We have a saying over here. A week is a long time in politics. It’s even longer in the security services.”

  “Jeez,” Ben shook his head. “At least Kramer and I will get to go back to the States.”

  “Will you?”

  “Sure.” Ben frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because Joanne is stuck in an alternate universe and there doesn’t seem to be a way back for her, does there?”

  ***

  Ben dropped into a chair opposite Daisy and said, “So how’s my second favourite kick-ass heroine?”

  “A lot better now,” Daisy said, pointing at the third glass of scotch on the table in front of her. She looked even tinier than normal. The Alert Team had given her a change of clothing made up of their all black security gear. The trouser legs were rolled up three times and the smock she wore, still festooned with grenades and magazines, swamped her slim body.

  “One question and then I’m out of your hair.”

  “Fire away,” Daisy said.

  “The guys from the van. Do you think they were involved?”

  “No,” Daisy shook her head. “They were as surprised as me when those things came out of the crate.”

  “Reuben is tracing the company they work for. We should have details of the people who sent the consignment within the hour.”

  Daisy sipped at her drink. Cook appeared and put a slice of chocolate cake in front of her with a ‘more where that came from’ comment. She looked at the cake and said, “I’m not sure I can manage that.”

  “Robert said you’ll need a high sugar intake after what happened,” Cook said over his shoulder as he walked away.

  Daisy sighed and took a bite of the cake. As she licked cream from her lips, Ben said to the cook, “You got more of that?”

  “Only for authorised personnel,” Cook said.

  Ben reached over the table and picked up a thumb-sized crumb. Nice.

  “I didn’t like him anyway,” Daisy said.

  “Who?”

  “The main delivery man. It was the way he was looking at me. And then he died. I feel guilty about that.”

  “Whoever sent the package is guilty,” Ben said. “Not you. You did your job.”

  “The Alert Team said I rocked,” Daisy said with a smile.

  “And rolled.” Ben stood up. “We’ll hunt down the people who did this and make sure they pay.”

  “Thanks,” Daisy said. As Ben walked away, she added, “Ben? I’m sorry about Joanne. I never got a chance to tell you.”

  “You say that like she’s dead,” Ben said.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just what I’ve heard from the scientists. They’ve no idea what’s happening and don’t know what to do.”

  “That’s why there are things called scientific breakthroughs,” Ben said. “We’re just overdue one.”

  ***

  “Jo?”

  Kramer lay in her tent and stared at nothing. She had already counted the number of stitches in the seam above her. Now she just waited out the seconds for the sun to dip towards the horizon and the air to at least cool to a manageable temperature. Time lengthened in this world. An hour seemed like four. A day lasted a week. She couldn’t even remember what it was like to stand in a rain shower. She just wished that Geordie could have persuaded her not to chase down the jotunn.

  I’m going to die here.

  “Jo?” Geordie spoke her name again, and this time thumped the tent-pole to get her attention.

  “What?” Exhaustion made Kramer edgy, and the British soldier’s endless positivity rankled her.

  “You need to see this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just get out here.”

  She sighed, knowing he would never let this go until she put in an appearance. Kramer shuffled out of the tent and stood up. “What do you want?”

  He pointed over her shoulder. Kramer turned, and her heart dropped through her boots.

  “Saw it about ten minutes ago,” Geordie said. “I was kind of hoping it was heading in a different direction but it looks like it’s getting closer.”

  The dust storm reared high into the air, and from her perspective Kramer thought it almost touched the sky. Light brown at the highest extents it darkened to a midnight black at ground level. The surface rippled with movement, as if it held within it living things that fought to break out. And as she watched, Kramer thought she saw eyes open and close.

  I’m going mad.

  “We can’t run,” Geordie said. “We need to stay near the Anomaly.”

  “What if we stand in it. We’ll be part of their world then. It might not touch us.”

  “We can try.”

  They moved quickly. Kramer grabbed her water bottle and ration pack. She slung her sub-machine gun over her shoulder. She zipped the tent up but figured if this storm had the same intensity as the last the tents would be gone by the time the winds died down. A quick glance at the wall of dust showed it closing on them with every heartbeat. And her heart was beating fast.

  She hustled over and joined Geordie in the ‘real’ world. The scientists stared at them.

  “What are you doing?” one of them a
sked.

  “Sandstorm,” Geordie said. “We’re hoping this is a safe spot.”

  One of the soldiers guarding them came over. He saw their world and the approaching storm.

  “Jesus,” he said. Then lowered his voice. “I’ve got a message from Ben. He said ‘watch out for the Guardian’ if that means anything to you.”

  “Maybe,” Geordie said. “Why didn’t he tell us himself.”

  “His unit has been kicked out of the exclusion zone. Rumour has it that they pissed off Lieutenant-Colonel Stanton once too often.”

  “He’s gone?” Kramer said in surprise.

  “He didn’t have any choice,” the soldier said. “My name’s Tom. Some of us will try and pass messages for you but only if it’s safe.”

  “Thanks, mate,” Geordie said. “How far away is the storm?”

  “Hard to tell. Can you feel the wind?” Tom asked.

  “No.” Geordie shook his head.

  “It’s getting blustery and there’s bits of sand in the air now.” Tom’s eyes narrowed against a surging wind that neither Kramer or Geordie could feel.

  “Okay,” Kramer said. “You get yourself out of here, and thanks for the message.”

  Tom ran back to his station.

  “Guardian?” Geordie said.

  “Maybe the man we saw,” Kramer suggested. “The one who led us here.”

  “The Viking?”

  “Yeah, him.”

  “Well to see him we need to be back there.” Geordie pointed in the direction they had come from.

  They looked at each other. Kramer wanted to scream. Geordie just grinned.

  “We know what to expect now.”

  “I guess.” Kramer took a long pull from her water bottle.

  “Ready?” Geordie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  They walked out of the Anomaly into a hurricane of noise and swirling debris. Kramer staggered as the wind buffeted her. Geordie grabbed her upper arm and swung her around.