Coco didn't know who the targets were, but if Philips wanted them dead, they had to have done something to him personally, other than supposedly having information about The Ark.
He came to a junction with five tunnels branching out. He quickly checked the map. Second on the left.
He wondered what would happen if he ignored the orders and simply returned. Would he be kicked out of The Ark, to fend for himself in the coming apocalypse, or would he simply vanish when the General got someone else to clean up the mess?
Even though the tunnels were cold, sweat was pouring down his back. He wasn't normally claustrophobic, but these dank, cold, dark tunnels were slowly getting to him. Where there weren't lights his strong headlamp's beam flashed shadows up and down the walls.
Not all of the sections he needed to move through were concrete tunnels some were sewerage systems. Sometimes the dirty vile coloured water that had shit floating in it came up to his waist. He was wet and he stunk. It was so bad he could taste it in the back of his mouth. In one section, where he waded through up to his bellybutton, he had to navigate around used condoms, tampons, and toilet paper. He threw up when he accidentally splashed some in his face, which dribbled into his mouth.
He was annoyed there were no waterproofs in the bag. Whoever had organised the information must have known he would need some?
It felt like he had been jogging, and wading for hours. After one more quick check, he realised he was in location. Without the map to guide him, the tunnel looked like all the others he had passed through.
On one wall was a collection of thick pipes that ran straight down and into the concrete. He had been running past them throughout the tunnels. He used the map and counted them off until he found the thick black one he needed.
Coco placed the backpack on the wet floor. Dirty, foul-smelling water ran from his body into a pool around his sodden trainers. A rat scurried past over his trainer.
He removed a hammer. He was far enough below ground not to have to worry about the noise he was going to make, but even so, he had a cloth to place over the rusty metal pipe to dull the sound. He smashed the section of pipe open. Then he carefully removed the device from a sealed metal container and wedged it up inside, after setting the timer to twenty minutes.
To make sure he was okay he had a gasmask inside the bag. He pulled it on. After setting the timer, he used a strip of plastic, from the bag, to seal the pipe again. The mask was just a precaution – better safe than dead.
With the mission accomplished, he turned and headed back to his car to make a phone call.
There was no change of clothing. Coco sat in the car with the windows down due to the stench.
He flipped open the phone and dialed the only number in the memory.
"Is it done?" the General asked. He didn't bother with pleasantries.
"Yes." Coco wasn't in the mood for any either.
"Good." There was silence for a few seconds. "Return to base." The phone went dead.
If the traffic wasn't too bad, he could be back within four or so hours. He ground the gear in place and pulled away, while trying not to think about the four people he had just killed.
11
Friday 21st December 2012
Day 6
Coco was in a daze for days.
The day after he returned a News Flash stated that one hundred and sixty-seven people were killed in an act of terrorism in London. An airborne nerve gas was used to kill everyone in the large house. A member of the British Governmental Cabinet was hosting the party. Nine of the leading members of the Cabinet and their families were there at the time and all perished. It was the worse case of assassinations on British soil in British history.
The news was devastating. He killed nine politicians from the main cabinet of the government, plus another one hundred and fifty-eight people along with them.
As well as the Deputy Prime Minister, there was also the Secretary of State, the Secretary of the Treasury, the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of Justice, the Secretary of Transport, the Secretary of Wales, the Secretary of Northern Ireland, and the Leader of the House of Lords, including all their families and aids.
For the next two days, Coco never left his room. He didn't eat or drink.
He returned late from his mission, so none of his squad knew he had returned. He hid away from them all.
He had a hundred emotions running through his mind. Anger, sadness, betrayal, confusion, and grieving. The General had set him up, and had played him like a fool.
The General hadn't called on the phone, or sent for him, obviously letting him stew and work it out of his system.
Coco knew he needed to tell somebody, but who? He was guilty. He placed the gas in the pipe. He set it off. He didn't question orders, he followed them like a sheep.
In addition, the world was starting to worry about the new outbreak that was spreading like wildfire. Coco knew that The Ark was the only chance he had for survival. Now wasn't the time to rock the boat.
He missed Echo. However, how could he face her now, with what he did? He was a killer. War was one thing, but killing one hundred and sixty-seven people in cold blood!
It was early, and Coco needed something to eat and drink and to take his mind off everything.
It was just after 2 AM. He sat in the mess hall eating a turkey sandwich, while washing it down with a cup of coco.
"Hey Coco," Spice said as he noticed him. "Just got back?" he asked as he leaned on the table. He looked exhausted.
"Just this minute," he lied. He couldn't keep eye contact.
"Great news about Echo, huh?"
"News!" Coco perked up for the first time in days.
"She's on her way back now. She should touch down in about an hour." Spice ran a hand through his perfect hair.
"That's great news." Coco felt something stir. He had mixed emotions. He couldn't wait to see her, but at the same time, he felt like he was tarnished by what he had done, and she would be able to tell just by looking at him.
"Anyway, good to have you back, bud." Spice stretched his back. It cracked like a row of falling dominos. "I'm gonna grab a sandwich and hit the sack. I'll see you tomorrow... well, later today; I mean." Spice wandered over to the counter.
Coco was nervous. He had just under an hour to wait. He sat chewing the food, not really tasting it. The drinks sugar was working on his headache.
He watched the large TV screens to pass the time while he ate.
Apparently, the day before the British Government announced that the rioting in the cities was so bad that they ordered a countrywide curfew, the country was now under Marshal Law. No one was allowed to leave their homes until Thursday the 27th from between 10 AM and 8 PM. Anyone found wandering the streets would be arrested.
The world's realising what's happening. It's only going to get worse.
He watched replays of the riots in London, Manchester, and Bristol, which were the worse affected areas, but it was spreading fast. People wanted answers. They were also stockpiling food and water, causing chaos in the shops. Banks were refusing to release money, stating they don't hold that much in cash; it was all locked in investments. Because people didn't have money to buy provisions, they were stealing them.
In one report, there was a helicopter flying over London. All around, and off into the distance, towering plumes of smoke drifted up into the smokey sky.
Coco checked his watch. He had half an hour to wait. He decided to head up to the landing pad to meet Echo.
The fresh air will do me good; he thought.
As he exited off the shuttle train, from Zone 6 and started making his way towards the main elevators of Zone 1, he saw Echo strolling along. He ran towards her.
"Hey, so you survived then?" he joked as he crushed her in a hug. He put her back down and stood back to admire her dress.
"Jesus, Miss. Philips in a summer dress! I can’t believe my eyes." He tried to sound normal, even though he knew something had change
d inside him that would never be the same again.
Echo punched him on the arm.
"Damn woman, you can punch!" he joked. He hoped his words didn't sound as strained as they felt.
Coco noticed how tired and withdrawn she looked. "You go get some sleep; you look knackered and all pasty white!" He had never been so happy to see someone in his life. If the General hadn't taken the ring, he would have given it to her right there and then. She was like a balm to all his problems. She was like the sun, and he was being revitalized in her presence.
"You certainly know how to talk to the ladies," she joked. "And what’s with the racist slurs?" He noticed she was almost asleep on her feet.
Coco laughed. "Racist? You call me, a black man, Coco!" he joked. Everyone called him Coco since his brother coined the nickname when he was little, due to his bizarre habit of drinking coco all the time, as if it was coffee.
She looked too tired to keep the conversation going. "I will see you in five hours," she announced while giving him another, longer hug.
Coco smelt her hair and face cream. Her aura washed over him. He held her at arm's length, as if afraid to let her go. There was so much he wanted to say, but now wasn't the time or place.
He stated he would see her soon, as he jogged off, trying to make out he was heading somewhere and not to the landing pad to meet her.
As he got around the corner of the closest building, he leaned his back against the wall and let out a long sigh. He peeked around the corner and watched her walking off towards the shuttle train station.
He was thinking, after what he did, did he deserve someone like her?
12
General Philips sat in his comfortable seat while swirling a glass of whisky. He was on the phone with the Prime Minister. Only one side of the conversation could be heard.
"I know; it's just shocking, completely shocking." He sniffed his drink, as if bored.
"My heart goes out to all their families. A truly shocking situation." He took a sip of the whisky and put down the glass.
"I can't imagine what they are going through." He started doodling on an open notebook.
"Yes, truly a horrendous act of terrorism." He was drawing a large smiley face on the page, with R.I.P next to it.
The Prime Minister was obviously upset and frantic with the loss of nine of his main party cabinet members.
The General placed the handset on the blotter and pushed his chair back and went and refilled his glass. He stood and stared out of the window. He watched the gray clouds in the distance, before returning and taking his seat.
"Very, very sad," he muttered as he picked up the phone.
Whenever he thought it was required, he stated more, unfelt regret and remorse. The conversation was boring him. He has important things to do.
The prime Minister was aware of The Ark, but has always stated it was unneeded and a waste of the taxpayer's money. He had only been in office for nine months and had already caused waves.
The General wondered how he felt about it now the shit had hit the fan.
When he sent Coco to eradicate the loose ends, he hoped the Prime Minister would be in the house along with the others. However, due to a riot in Westminster, his limo was detained and arrived too late.
"Yes Prime Minister, I completely understand. You're doing the right thing." He was told that due to the Secretary of Defense's death – who was supposed to arrive within days to take over The Ark – he was asked if he could remain in command until another suitable replacement could be found.
When the General first heard that the Prime Minister had the balls to state that after all the years – and the best part of his life – he had run The Ark, that he wasn't deemed fit to command the bunker once the outbreak started, he decided to take matters into his own hands.
The General was not impressed with the paper pusher's denunciation. Those up the chain of command decided that a military leader wasn't what The Ark needed. How dare they after all he has done. All the sacrifices he has made – the years he has given.
He decided to take matters into his own hands. All he had to do is stall them for a few more days at most, and then he would seal The Ark, and then the world could turn to shit for all he cared. He would be safe along with his army.
All he needed to do was kiss ass for a bit longer. If the Prime Minister has any inkling as to what he was doing, and had done, he would send the army in to take control.
There were now hundreds of military personnel in The Ark, but that is nothing compared to what the government could send against him.
All he had to do is play along for a little while longer.
"Really?" His mind had wandered, and he was brought back to the conversation when the Prime Minister announced he would leave within four hours for The Ark.
"Maybe give us three days, Prime Minister. There have been rumours of cases in the local area, and Princetown is under quarantine. Also, five soldiers who returned from a sweep of the area are showing signs of Stage One.
"Yes, truly shocking. I know the virus isn't officially in England yet; that's why I'm holding off announcing it to anyone, so as not to cause a nationwide panic. You're right in asking that question Prime Minister, is anywhere safe?"
He sat up straight in the chair. He needed to keep the man away from his base. Having him here would turn all eyes upon The Ark, and he doesn't need the attention at the moment.
"May I suggest the Northwood bunker?" He waited while it was mulled over and discussed on the other end of the line, with whomever the Prime Minister was with. "Yes Minister, it is the control centre of the combined Task 345. Yes Minister, it is where we control our Vanguard class submarines from, and it is even deeper underground than The Ark.
"A wise choice. Yes... Yes... Of course, as soon as I know the area is safe I will send word to have you relocated to The Ark." He relaxed a little knowing the remaining cabinet members wouldn't be sharing the same space as him. There was only room for one person in command.
In his opinion, Parliament members come and go. Just because they were voted for, it didn't make them worthy of running the army. He has been in the army for almost forty years, and seen eight different Prime Ministers come and go. Who are they to tell him what to do?
"What about the royal family?" He asked as if just remembering something important.
"Yes I think that would be best, just until I have the area locked down and one hundred percent sure the virus isn't gaining a grip in the area.
"The Queen and royal family are on a large luxury yacht in the middle of Loch Lomond in Scotland you say? Yes, a very good idea, well away from the infected." He sipped his whisky.
"Yes a very wise idea to get them to hold their location until I have everything under control. Yes... Yes... I will let you know within twenty-four hours. Yes, Prime Minister."
God this man talks a load of bullocks.
"Once again, I'm truly sorry for the loss of your cabinet members to a truly horrendous act of spineless terrorism." He finished up with some niceties before hanging up.
Jesus that spineless prick was getting on my nerves.
He raised his glass. "Here's to you Prime Minister. And may you die along with the rest of humanity," he toasted as he downed the rest of his drink.
13
Monday 24th December 2012
The Day the Virus Reached England
Day 9
It was the third day back in his unit. He pretended as if everything was back to normal. No one asked what the mission was. They knew better than to pry.
The Captain was back as well.
Bull brought him up to date with everything that had happened while he was gone. It wasn't much, just hauling crates down into the bunker.
A specialist logistics unit was now responsible for getting everything packed below ground. Helicopters, tanks, trucks, armoured cars, even boats and submarines were being stored in Zone 7 and 9.
Bull also explained that the Adam and Eve fi
nalists were also arriving in a steady stream. They had to spend time in quarantined first. None of them was below ground yet.
Coco tried to continue as normal with Echo. However, it was just too busy to get any real time with her. So far, they had both been working in different sections. Since the outbreak started everyone's priorities had changed. He felt now wasn't the time to ask her out on a date. He would have the next twenty years to pop the question.
That's when the bombshell dropped.
It was announced over the loudspeaker system throughout the underground bunker – the virus had reached England.
As the news was first issued, a deadly silence spread throughout The Ark.
Coco knew, as they all did, that this day was inevitable; even so, it still made everyone stop what they were doing.
The silence was eerie.
The first case was confirmed in London. Then soon after in Manchester. It wouldn't be long before cases started popping up all over the country.
The rest of the day had a heaviness about it. You could feel the tension in the air. It would only be so long before The Ark was ordered sealed. Everybody doubled their efforts.
Coco spent the day with Rogers, using forklifts to fill shelves in Zone 3. The containers coming down on the large elevator was unending.
Within eight hours, it was announced all flights were canceled; all boats were docked, and all borders sealed. Only the military were allowed to roam the streets and take to the air.
Every hour that passed was an hour closer to being locked down inside The Ark for decades to come.
14
New Years Eve 2012
Day 16
The last seven days flew by.
The Sixth Extinction & The First Three Weeks & The Squads First Three Weeks Omnibus [Books 1-10] Page 56
