CUT THROAT
CUT OFF | BOOK TWO
Charlie Dalton
Contents
GET FREE BOOKS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
REVIEW
MORE BY CHARLIE
ABOUT CHARLIE
GET FREE BOOKS
Join Charlie’s newsletter to stay updated with new releases, get access to an exclusive Cut Off companion novella, and more!
Join Charlie’s newsletter here.
Tap here to see all of Charlie’s books.
Join the fun in his Reader Group on Facebook.
1
Chaos. Pure chaos.
Laurie hadn’t seen HQ in such a mess since the London Bridge terror attack, and even then it hadn’t been this bad.
A heavy-set woman with crooked glasses clutched large folders to her ample breast. She ran and reams of paper fluttered to the floor in her wake. Another worker, stick-thin and with hair that looked like someone had glued Twiglets to the top of her head, stood motionless, eye bulging, with an expression Laurie had seen often over the past week.
Confusion. Horror. Disbelief.
Laurie suffered the same emotions but they lasted only fractions of a second before he leapt into action and took control of the situation.
Things always got a lot worse when no one was in charge, and that was even if they only appeared to be in charge. The truth was, Laurie had no more control over the EMP than anyone else. But people were willing to be deceived, so long as they believed things would get better.
When a disaster struck, protocols were initiated. They weren’t always efficient or the most streamlined of procedures but they were in place. Action was taken and people felt safe. But in the modern world, those protocols depended on computer systems, virtual files available only on invisible paper.
What happened when technology itself became the problem?
Laurie approached the only person in the entire building not in a state of panic. She calmly collated a file, straightened up the pages and stapled them together. She wore a bad perm like it was an Olympic medal.
“I’m here to see Colonel Fitz,” Laurie said, feeling the need to lower his voice despite the pandemonium going on behind him.
“Name?”
“Laurie Mansfield.”
She didn’t even need to check the schedule. She motioned without taking her eyes off the document she was working on. “Take a seat.”
Laurie eased into one of the uncomfortable armchairs across from her and brushed a piece of lint off his trousers.
An overweight man yelled as he tore across the office clutching a stack of binders under one arm. He held out a hand and shoved people aside as if he was a wing forward in a world cup rugby game.
And I thought working behind a desk was meant to be the safer option.
The office door opened and a man in a sharp suit exited. He straightened his tie and gave Laurie a winning smile. Then he entered the vast maelstrom of fluttering papers like Moses through the Red Sea.
“He’s ready to see you now,” the secretary said, still peering unblinkingly at her papers.
COLONEL ROBERT FITZ sat near-horizontal on his leather desk chair with one foot on the tabletop. The trouser leg rode up revealing his Union Jack socks. Splayed across his desk were a dozen piles of paper. He didn’t look up from his report when Laurie entered and performed a sharp salute.
“Be right with you.” Fitz finished reading a report and placed it on the desk. He scribbled a few notes and gestured to the empty chairs opposite. “Take a seat.”
Laurie unbuttoned his jacket and got comfortable.
The colonel signed a piece of paper and placed it in the ‘out’ tray.
Fitz scooped up a file and skimmed through it. “Lieutenant Laurie Mansfield. Decorated soldier… Two tours… Medals of bravery… Yadda yadda…” His eyes lit up. “Oh. That’s interesting. You collect antiques?”
“Mostly stuff from World War One.”
“Now that was a war. None of your cowardly long-range attacks. Face to face combat. It takes a lot for a man to kill another man when he’s looking him dead in the eye.” He lowered the file and looked at him over his reading glasses. “I asked for the best and they sent you. Were they right?”
“I’m not sure there’s such a thing as the ‘best,’ sir. Everything we do is a team effort. We’re only as strong as our weakest member.”
“But you were never the weakest member, were you?”
Laurie’s eyes moved to the side. “If there was a competition over who was the worst cook, I would definitely win that.”
Fitz spread his hands. “We all have our weaknesses.” He picked up Laurie’s file again. “One of yours appears to be the inability to follow orders to the letter. Your superior officers note you don’t always follow their command. Were they telling the truth?” He peered over his glasses again, and suddenly Laurie felt like he was being appraised by a teacher in school.
He shifted in his seat. “I’ve never failed a mission–”
“That wasn’t the question. You never stick to the plan.”
“Plans never go to plan, sir. It’s an unwritten rule.”
The colonel leaned his file forward. “But it is written. Right here in black and white. All over your file.”
Laurie was taken by surprise. When he got the call to see the colonel, he assumed it was in relation to a new mission. Instead, he was being given the third degree. “What I mean to say, sir, is there’s always an unexpected incident that we must respond to.”
“Every superior officer lambasts you for your inability to follow their orders. They say you, and I quote, ‘prefer to go with your gut.’ Is that an accurate summary?”
There was no beating around the bush. Laurie came clean. “Yes. It’s true.”
Fitz leaned back in his chair. “They go on to say you have the best instincts of any soldier they’ve worked with. No matter what happens, you have an idea. You’re able
to think creatively – even in difficult, stressful situations – and it often leads to success.”
Laurie wasn’t sure where this was heading. He simply nodded.
Colonel Fitz pursed his lips and made a popping sound. “I have a mission for you. It’s of the utmost importance. It might well dictate how well we succeed with our little EMP problem.”
It was hardly little. Every soldier Laurie spoke to said they’d seen the same thing happening all over the country, and if it was happening here, there was no reason to suspect it wasn’t happening all over the world.
Fitz moved to the window and looked out on the high street. “Civilisation is breaking down. I’ve seen it happen in other parts of the world, but not here. Never here. First will come the looting. As resources dry up, people will become more desperate. They’ll resort to violence. Murder will become the next national sport. I was stationed abroad once and came across a fight in a busy street. A man crushed another man’s head in with a tin of expired baked beans. Then he used the murder weapon for his next meal. To think that could happen here, in my own country of birth is… hard to imagine. But it’s happening. It’s happening right now. If we don’t take the necessary steps, we will lose this country, and then there will be no going back.”
So, it was true. Every whisper and half-hearted rumour Laurie heard was happening.
The country was tearing itself apart.
The colonel turned on his heel. “When the power went out, you were stationed outside London at an LRRF camp.”
“Yes, sir. I was tasked with locking the area down to ensure unsavoury types didn’t enter the camp and steal our resources.”
“Were you successful?”
Laurie glanced at the file on the colonel’s desk. He must have known the answer to that question already. “Yes, sir. We were.”
“How did you do it?”
“We reached out to the local communities and promised protection so long as they handed over whatever provisions they had.”
“They didn’t put up any resistance?”
“Some did. We convinced them to look around our facilities to help them make an informed decision.”
“They liked what they saw?”
“They saw a temporary solution to their problem.”
“And those who refused to relocate?”
“We left them where they were.”
“No protection from the military?”
“We sent a messenger every day to check if they changed their mind. Some did. Some didn’t.”
“And what did you do to those who still refused?”
Laurie glanced at the file again. No matter how comprehensive it was, no file contained every little detail that transpired during a mission. There was no way of getting inside a man’s head when he was on the ground and surrounded by enemies.
At least, that was what he told himself.
“They were broken into,” Laurie said. “We warned them looters would come.”
“They soon came after their families were threatened, I imagine.”
Laurie nodded.
“Tell me,” Fitz said, not taking his eyes from Laurie. “Did any of the looters ever wear uniforms?”
Laurie blinked. “Sir?”
“One of the other lieutenants was under the impression you sent some of your team to the locals’ houses to stage a break-in.”
Laurie’s hands formed fists. He knew who it was. I’ll kill him!
“I take it there’s no truth in it?”
“No, sir. No local came under duress from us.”
The colonel smiled. “That’s good to hear. It would be in direct contradiction to the orders given by your superior officer.”
His eyes shone.
He knows the truth. I swear, I’ll teach the whistleblower a lesson he won’t soon forget.
“But the camp wasn’t a total success,” Fitz said. “In fact, I understand there was a problem on the very first day.”
“The resources were untouched, sir.”
“You were tasked with protecting all resources. Including the people.”
“It was the first day of the incident and I hadn’t yet got my feet under me.”
“Your mission was to keep the people safe. Do you think it’s safe out there right now?”
“No, sir.”
“How many left?” ‘Left’ was such a nicer word than ‘escaped.’
“Five. Kids. We strengthened our defences after that. No other residents went.”
“Now your LRRF camp is the largest in the country. People are afraid. Most have never been without their electronic devices before. Many others forgot what it’s like to look up. And now that they have, they’re not too happy with what they see. Most people have spent their lives living in a daydream of tiny backlit squares and rectangles. They’ve awoken to a nightmare. People like to badmouth the government, usually for good reason, but they did make some preparations. They stockpiled food in case of an emergency. They’re hidden all over the country, under safe lock and key.”
“How long will the supplies last?”
“Anywhere from three to four months.”
Was it enough? The potentially devastating effects of the EMP could well last years.
“But that’s not the whole story. We’re sharing the resources out as we speak. Food, medicine, water. Unfortunately, it turns out we’re not the only ones who know their location. Ever since the power cut off, someone’s been systematically knocking our facilities over and stealing the nation’s resources. It’s the only weapon we have to keep people from full-scale rioting.”
“What are they doing with it?”
“At this point, we don’t even know who they are. They could be sitting on it, waiting for when people are desperate. They might even be planning on using it to set up their own armies. They could become kings before this is over.” Fitz turned to Laurie. “That’s why I called you in here today. We want you to find those responsible and bring them to justice.”
Laurie considered the full scale of what he was being asked to do. It would certainly be a challenge. But he had his team behind him. They’d succeeded in every other mission they’d undertaken, so why not this one?
“My team and I will find the people you’re looking for,” he said.
“You won’t be taking your team. They’re being sent elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere? Sir, they’re my team.”
“They’ve proven very effective at controlling the LRRF camp population. We’ll be dispersing them throughout the country to train others your techniques. You should be proud. Your unit is doing a great deal of good for the country.”
“Yes, sir. But they’re also my team. We’ve worked together on countless missions.”
“We’re assigning you to an elite fighting company. Take them to the last supply depot that was hit and look for clues. Find those responsible. They can’t have gotten far. Track them down before they cause any more damage.” Fitz considered Laurie before adding his next sentence. “I’m assigning you to a superior officer to liaise with.”
That caught Laurie by surprise. “A superior officer? Why?”
“It was deemed necessary due to your... unorthodox methodology.”
“My unorthodox methodology?” Laurie could hardly speak. “It’s because of the way I do things that you want me for this mission.”
“It is. But in every mission you’ve ever had, you’ve had a superior officer watching over you to prevent… excessive efforts.”
Excessive efforts? What in God’s name was that supposed to mean?
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Denied.”
“Sir–”
“You’re a loose cannon. You need someone to harness your ideas, to focus them and keep them on target.”
“With all due respect, sir, a good idea should not be harnessed.”
“We can’t let every idea run its course. It could turn out to be a disaster.”
“Or
an unmitigated success. We won’t know if we don’t let it run.”
But he could see from the colonel’s expression that he wasn’t about to change his mind.
Laurie swallowed the bile gathering at the back of his throat. “Who’s to be my commanding officer?”
“Didn’t you see him? He left right before you entered.”
The stiff gait, the penetrating eyes. The starched shirt and leather boots so tight they creaked when he walked. He suddenly realized who the man was.
“Captain Burgess?”
“The very same.”
There had to be some mistake. Laurie wet his lips to ask: “Permission to speak freely, sir?” but decided against it. He was shot down last time he asked, so this time he wouldn’t bother.
“I work better by myself, sir, with no one else looking over my shoulder to question my decisions. Captain Burgess… I’m sure he’s a fine officer.”
“One of the best.”
“But I’m not sure he and I would make the best team.”
“I disagree. He’s fashioned a certain reputation, just as you have. I think with you working together, we can get this mission done. With your gut instinct and his… sense of duty, you’ll be unstoppable.”
Cut Off (Book 2): Cut Throat Page 1
