by M. W. Duncan
Jane walked the corridors of the facility, her heart pounding. This was a prison by another name. Her movements were restricted.
Nobody gave the scrubs-clad woman a second glance, and she understood why. Everyone had a job to do. For her, she was Holden’s assistant. The doctor slept off a raging hangover. If anyone asked, she would tell them he was under the weather.
Jane promised Holden they would form some kind of escape plan. Hyde held the key. He possessed a functioning satellite telephone. Jane needed to acquire it somehow and call for help.
Hyde’s office was before her, the electronic lock blinked a red light. A bulky, black orb hung above the doorway, silently observing, no doubt broadcasting to a security station. How many guards watched her now on a monitor screen?
She snapped her attention away and moved off toward Holden’s office. It was with some surprise that she found Holden sitting at his desk, head in hand. Two dissolvable tablets bubbled at the bottom of his glass of water.
“I didn’t expect to see you up today, Eugene. How are you feeling?”
Holden looked up, his eyes narrowed as if the light burned. “Delicate. Take a seat. I feel as though I should apologise for last night. I tend not to drink so heavily. I fear I may have said some things I shouldn’t have.”
“We were speaking honestly for the first time, I think.”
Holden nodded, squeezing his eyes closed. “We did.”
Jane checked behind her. The work space was near empty. Even here, Christmas Day was observed. Someone would be tasked to check on the infected, feed them and keep them hydrated. The guards would still be on rotation, keeping everyone where they should be.
“What I don’t understand is why the others working here accept that they can’t leave, especially at this time of year.”
“You have to understand, Jane, the medical staff and researchers believe themselves to be in a pivotal position to help combat the outbreak. Their egos are being stroked, and their pockets are being filled. Who knows what else they’ve been offered.” Holden chugged back his drink.
“We’re still getting out of here, Eugene.”
“I don’t see how we can.”
Jane leaned closer. They were alone but she did not want to risk being overheard. “Hyde has a satellite telephone. If one of us manages to get a hand on it then we can make a call outside, and get some help.”
“And who would we call?”
“Williamson?”
“I don’t know how far his knowledge of this place goes. I get the feeling he is a good man, but it was under his advice that I came here. Yet, we can’t call the police, so Williamson may be our only hope. He did leave me his personal number. But if it’s the wrong decision we could be putting ourselves in danger.”
“What choice do we have?”
Holden shrugged. “None. We can either act or remain.”
“I’ll get Hyde’s phone. You’ll need to distract him. We need his keycard to get into his office. There is a lot of security cameras in this facility. I’ll need to find out if someone watches them all the time or if they’re just recorded. It’ll take a couple of days to check up on all these things.”
“How will you get Hyde’s card?”
Jane bit her lip. “I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers, or any for that matter. I just know we have to act. We can’t let what’s going on to continue.”
Jane was not sure Holden agreed with her due to his moral compulsions or whether he was simply tired of wrestling with the herculean task of the virus and the infected. Whatever his motivations, their aims were the same.
The hydraulics of the door hissed. Both Jane and Holden turned. One of the research assistants entered. He waved a friendly greeting and wished them both a Merry Christmas. Holden smiled thinly while Jane returned the season’s wishes with a more convincing smile. When he was far from ear shot, they returned to their conversation.
“You’re too important to not be noticed if you weren’t to go about your duties. I can move about far more freely. Over the next few days, I’ll find out what I can.”
Holden reached out and touched her arm. “Jane, what we’re embarking on is dangerous. I want you to realise the gravity of the situation. It might be safer to remain here and let events run their course.”
“Eugene, that’s not an option.”
“If we fail, the consequences could be dire. I only want you to go into action with your eyes open.”
“My eyes are open,” said Jane, resolutely. “This can’t continue.”
Holden rolled his glass in his hands. “I feel I should do more, most of this relies on you.”
“I can move about more freely than you. Just be ready. If we have to leave suddenly, we won’t have time to prepare.”
Holden leaned back, a small groan escaping his lips. “When I think back to all that has transpired over the last few months, I see nothing but an entire world turned upside down.” He shook his head. “I should have continued with my plans for retirement, I would have been sitting by my fire right now, reading A Tale of Two Cities. Instead, here I am, a fugitive, my academic and personal life in tatters, a refugee, hiding from the world, inflicting grievous wounds on ill people all in the name of progress. You and I are embroiled in an event that has changed the course of human history. If we’re not careful, we’ll be swallowed up and forgotten.”
Holden looked nothing like the exceptionally gifted academic professor that he was, and more a tired and frightened old man. Jane wanted to reach out and offer some succour as was her nature, but no, she remained silent. Perhaps the situation was too far beyond words. Nothing was said for an inordinate amount of time.
Jane breathed in deeply. “You’re thinking too much, Eugene. Try relax a little. We’ll work this out together. A few days and we could be ready to act.”
***
Jane moved between her duties as fluidly as she could, stopping to chat to a researcher here, making conversation with guards there, loitering in the corridor, eyes seemingly scanning the many bulletin boards. Over the past two days Jane counted twenty-five guards on duty at any given time. A quick peep into the control room at changeover discovered only one of the guards positioned at the monitors.
Holden went about his work as if on autopilot, with several researchers enquiring as to his welfare. The excuse of exhaustion was believable.
“Let’s get some fresh air, Eugene. You look as though you need a break.”
Holden grabbed his mug of coffee and followed without comment. They had agreed it was too dangerous to speak of their plans within the complex. Gaining access to outside the facility was not something that was encouraged, but even the guards knew they could not keep one-hundred or more people cooped up forever in the subterranean vault.
They walked in silence, their footfalls providing a lonely accompaniment. They reached the stairs and climbed, Holden grasping the rail, his breath laboured.
“Eugene?”
“I’m okay. Just a little unfit.”
At the summit, a guard stood, weapon strapped to his chest. It had initially shocked Jane seeing so many armed men, but time acclimatised her thoughts. Weapons were her reality for now. Jane recognised the guard, having spoken to him a few times over the last couple of days. His name was lost in a jumble of faces.
The guard held up a hand, his ID badge being uncovered in the movement. “What can I do for you both?”
“Afternoon, Jon,” Jane said, ripping her eyes from the guard’s ID badge as quickly as she could. “Doctor Holden and I are just stepping out for a breath of fresh air.”
Jon checked his watch. “You shouldn’t be going out at this time.”
“Jon, look at Doctor Holden. He looks dreadful. The ventilation system here is stifling. We’ll only be ten minutes. It’s too cold to be out longer.”
Jon ran a hand through his red hair. “I guess, since it’s you, Jane. Ten minutes. You know not to stray too far. It’s dangerous out there, and the weat
her is getting worse, too.”
“You’re a star,” said Jane, flashing one of her smiles.
He waved away the compliment and swiped his keycard to open the lock. The door swung inward.
“Ten minutes, Jane. No more.”
She nodded. “We won’t go far.”
They stepped out into the winter world. The wind howled and snow blustered in every direction. The frigid air hurt as Jane took a breath. She wished she had dressed more appropriately. Holden pulled his coat tight about him. The snow that accumulated on the ground came almost to knee height. Narrow trenches had been shovelled through the drift, allowing easier access to the outer buildings and accommodation sites.
They walked a little from the doorway, out of earshot of the guard, not that he would have been able to hear them over the clamour of the storm. The narrow passages forced Jane to walk ahead of Holden. They made it to one of the outbuildings, a storage garage.
“I’ve got an idea,” said Jane, checking they were alone.
“Go on.”
“I can’t get Hyde’s phone unless I find a way into his office. Even if I make it in there, security will know I’m there.”
“That’s not necessarily an obstacle to everything,” said Holden, his teeth beginning to chatter. “You said the guards rotate. Well, I wonder if they would know who has access to which rooms. Should we be able to acquire his keycard then you could simply walk in and get the phone, and walk out.”
“And when Hyde discovers that his phone is missing, then what? They’ll review the tapes and see me. Help won’t reach us in time.”
Holden flicked snowflakes from his glasses. “You have a point. Unless … well … unless Hyde isn’t available to make anyone aware that his phone is missing. You said we needed a distraction. What if I allow one of the infected to slip from some of its restraints? Not release it, but allow it some movement, enough to get their attention. In the confusion and panic we would find a window of opportunity to act, and Hyde would not be missed.”
“I don’t know, Eugene. That sounds too—”
“If you have a better suggestion, I’m willing to listen,” said Holden curtly. “I understand your hesitation. I feel the same, but I see no other way.”
The cold was becoming too much. Jane could only guess at the temperature, well below minus-ten. “If that’s the only way?”
“It is.”
“We should head back inside.”
Jane could just make out Jon at the doorway. Was he waving them back? Possibly. They returned to their prison, the door closing with a bang of finality. They both shook the snow from their clothes. Holden removed his glasses and cleaned them off.
“Thank you for letting us out, Jon.” Jane smiled her best smile again. She might need Jon’s favour again.
“Are you feeling better, Doctor?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you. A brisk walk in the winter air does wonders.”
***
Holden checked his watch. Jane was scheduled to attempt her part of the plan in fifteen minutes, and once successful, she would appear in his office. He would then put his part into action.
The chaos which would ensue would give them the opportunity to make a call and form some kind of escape. He pushed his foot against the bundle under his desk, a heavy winter coat and some snow-proof boots. He had the same ready for Jane.
He moved to one of the examination tables. The infected strapped and secured to it watched him, muscles bulging as it struggled against the restraints. Holden checked the chart. Infected seventy-six. They were experimenting on how cold affected the subject. It had been submerged in icy water for five hours, and its reaction times and resilience were measured and recorded. The virus was remarkable in a fashion. It provided a great deal of resilience against physical wounds and went some way to regenerating them, too. The Carrion Virus granted the infected abnormal strength. It certainly warranted more study under a controlled environment. That was the issue. With the infected, was there such a thing as control?
He checked his watch again. It was nearing time. Infected seventy-six would be his distraction, the one that he would allow a measure of freedom.
***
Jane kept a hand in her pocket, holding the thin syringe Holden provided. A plastic guard covered the needle. He had explained it would render Hyde unconscious within thirty seconds and would keep him that way for forty-eight hours.
She passed Hyde’s office several times, without a real idea as to how to gain access. Knocking on the door would probably result in her being ignored or fobbed off. She had to wait for him to come out. Perhaps then she would have the opportunity to get him on his own.
Time dragged. Eugene would be waiting impatiently, ready to implement his part of the plan. She had to get to Hyde!
The door opened. Hyde stepped out and walked down the corridor, his nose buried in a report. Jane followed at a discreet distance, taking uncomfortably short steps to maintain the space. Hyde rounded the corner and moved out of sight. Jane rounded the same corner. The door to the male bathrooms swung shut.
Nobody else moved about the facility. If she waited longer there was bound to be a witness. Jane, heart racing, burst into the bathroom. Hyde stood at the urinal. He did not look up, but kept his eyes downcast. Jane pulled out the syringe, popping off the plastic guard, exposing the needle. Hyde turned toward her.
“What are you doing here? Get out!”
Jane lashed out, plunging the thin lance into his neck, and depressing the plunger.
Hyde snatched at his neck, as Jane stepped back. He pulled it free, looked down at it in his hands.
“You bitch!” He threw the syringe at her, took three fast steps and of a sudden his hands were on her throat. “What have you done to me?”
Those hands tightened. His eyes widened. “What? What have you done?”
Jane couldn’t get air into her lungs. He squeezed tighter. She dug her nails into his wrists, scraping, pulling. He kept hold. Jane brought up a knee, her aim not quite right, hitting his considerable gut.
I’m going to die! I’m going to die!
Panic. Fear. Regret. She tried calling out, but no sound came. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The anger that distorted his face, fell away, so too, his hands.
Jane collapsed onto the ground, gasping, coughing, her hands at her chest encouraging air to flow.
Hyde’s legs gave way. His head struck the tiled floor. His breathing grew rapid for a few moments but then settled to deep, long breaths.
Jane waited for something to happen, either Hyde to jump to his feet or someone to walk in and discover them both. Nothing happened. A tap dripped in the sink, rhythmic and steady.
Get up and move, she urged herself. Jane got to her feet, her neck burning. She patted Hyde’s body, searching for his ID keycard. He usually wore it around his neck or clipped to his belt. She checked his trouser pockets and found what she was looking for. She pulled the small card free, and slipped it into her pocket. The disabled bathroom cubicle door was open. As far as she knew, there were no disabled staff working in the facility. It would do to store him out of sight for some time. Jane hauled his arms, dragging him only a few inches at a time. But each tug drew him closer. Finally, the fat body was in the confines of the cubicle. Jane pulled the door closed, and used a coin to lock it from the outside.
A part of her could not believe she had managed to do all this without something going wrong. Still nobody moved about the corridors. Steady now, Jane. Normal movements. You can do this. In the two days since Christmas, the operations at the facility ran on minimal staff. Jane confidently slipped through the maze of corridors, back to Hyde’s office. She had walked the corridors more times than she cared to remember, the complicated layout no longer held any surprises for her.
The security cameras stood silent watch above her. Jane held the keycard to the reader and the blinking red light turned green. The door clicked open and she went inside. The office was modest in size, well-kept and
organised. Jane found the satellite phone immediately. She tucked the device into the waistband of her trousers, pulling her top down to cover it. After a quick scan of the room, and finding nothing more of use, she slipped out.
***
The door to the office burst open and Jane entered. Holden stood, unsure if her rush was due to being pursued or if she bore other news. She pulled up her top and removed the bulky satellite phone, placing it into Holden’s hand. He scarcely believed Jane managed to acquire it. Hope was all he had, confidence not entering into the equation of late.
“Hyde?”
“Unconscious. I’ve locked him in the disabled bathroom.”
“And you weren’t discovered?”
“No. Not as far as I know. Make the call, Eugene. If Williamson doesn’t agree to help us then all this is for nothing.”
“He’ll help us, Jane. I know he will.” Holden knew it was time confidence returned.
He began to dial.
***
Eric trudged into the familiar hotel in Aberdeen where Black Aquila was based. He had flown into the city an hour ago. Fires still raged, unchecked, sending black plumes of smoke into the air. A large flotilla of naval ships lay at anchor a short distance off the coast, large warships, an aircraft carrier group and a small cluster of commercial ships. The airport had been transformed into a military hub. Much of the open space was now taken over with temporary buildings, the runways and hangars clogged with all types of military aircraft.
Eric was shown to Williamson’s room. When he entered, Williamson stood and shook his hand. He did not smile. Dark circles ringed his eyes. He appeared a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Eric, you’ve no idea how glad I am to see you. Grab a seat.” Williamson moved to the sofa, eased himself back and cracked his neck. Laid out on the table before him were three laptops. He closed each in turn, snapping the lids down. Williamson rubbed his eyes. “How is the family?”
“Good. Great. Things are better. Thanks for allowing me those few days.”
