Zombie Apocalypse Boxset [Books 1-2]

by Hatchett

Issy had been watching two guards on the inner wall and saw them fall and disappear from sight before she received confirmation from the snipers that she was clear to go.

  “Move out,” she ordered and gestured for Team Alpha to move, expecting that Team Bravo would be doing the same thing further down the Outer Ward. Four of Team Alpha turned West and moved stealthily along the wall towards Traitor’s Gate, keeping in the shadows wherever possible. Issy and the remaining ten in her sub-team took half a dozen quick and silent paces straight across the Outer Ward and stood with their backs against the outside of the inner wall, either side of the next gate.

  The four members heading towards Traitor’s Gate were aiming to move clockwise around the Outer Ward to clear it of any gang members. Their most challenging task would be the main gate at Byward Tower, which would be heavily guarded. At St Thomas’s Tower, opposite Traitors Gate, two of the four took the steps to access the ramparts of the outer wall and continued their cautious progress.

  Four members of Team Bravo also split off and headed Eastwards to move anti-clockwise around the Outer Ward to ensure it was clear and were expected to join up with the four members of Alpha’s sub-team at some point. Two of this team headed for the ramparts of the outer wall while the other two stayed in the corridor.

  Issy quickly scanned the top of the outer wall to make sure there were no more guards before ordering, “We go in ten.”

  As Issy counted down the seconds, the remaining Alpha Team members made final checks of their equipment, making sure the safeties were off and their replacement clips and knives were easily accessible.

  As she reached zero, Issy pushed the inner gate open carefully before easing through the small gap she had created and crouched in the alcove, waiting for the rest of her sub-team to follow. From her new position under the shadowy arch, she could now see most of the grass area where many of the gang members were getting into the party spirit and the civilians were slowly moving themselves to the sides of the lawn, out of the firing line between the gate where Issy was crouched and the White Tower. The only problem with this was the fact that they were now shielding some of the guards which Issy had spotted languishing against the walls around the perimeter, so she could only hope the civilians hit the deck once the shooting started.

  Issy carefully popped her head just outside the alcove to take a quick look to her left and right. She spotted a guard to her left leaning against Wakefield Tower and as she looked right she heard a muffled ‘ppfft’ and another guard slid to the floor, leaving a red stain on the brickwork where he had been standing. Issy quickly looked left again and saw that the guard she had just spotted was oblivious to what had happened and was nodding away in time to the music and taking another drag on his spliff.

  Directly in front of Issy the ground, including the lawn, sloped up to the right and there were more alcoves opposite which could provide cover but no view or vantage point. Therefore, the sub-team of Team Alpha would be attacking to the left as planned, while Don and the sub-team of Team Bravo would be edging around to the right aiming to provide cover and ultimately secure the White Tower.

  “Guards around the perimeter first,” Issy whispered. “Avoid hitting the heli. Three of you on the bank to provide cover,” she indicated the grass bank a few metres directly opposite their position. “We go in ten,” as she started the countdown.

  On zero, everything seemed to go into slow motion. Issy left the alcove in a crouch with her MP5 at her shoulder. In one fluid motion she took aim and took out the guard leaning against Wakefield Tower with a shot to the head as the rest of her sub-team spread out and followed. Sticking as close to the wall and the alcoves as possible, the seven members of Issy’s sub-team started moving quickly towards Wakefield Tower, keeping a close eye on proceedings on and around the lawn.

  Some of the civilians had been looking at their watches and knew the attack was imminent and had been scanning the area around the perimeter of the lawn waiting for events to unfold. The first few who saw Issy and her sub-team emerge from the alcove and take out the guard at Wakefield Tower quickly lay down on the floor. Seeing people suddenly lie down was the cue for the other civilians to drop to the floor, giving Issy and her sub-team a clear line of sight to their targets.

  The gang members dancing around on the lawn had failed to notice that most civilians were dressed in light coloured clothing, but they couldn’t fail to notice them all dropping to the floor like a set of dominoes. At first, they were a little bemused by what was happening until their instincts told them that something wasn’t right. Suddenly they stopped dancing, dropped what they were drinking and smoking and began to reach for their weapons, frantically looking around like cornered animals.

  Within a couple of seconds of each other, the sub-teams of both Alpha and Bravo started picking off the perimeter guards with almost unheard ‘ppffts’ coming from their MP5’s and kept moving so that they did not provide easy targets.

  The soldiers then turned inwards towards the gang members on the lawn just as the first of them managed to release their weapons and start shooting back. The noise of shots rang out and a bullet crashed into the wall a couple of feet from Issy’s head and she instinctively ducked down lower. Two of her soldiers standing a couple of metres away were not so lucky; a shotgun blast hit them both around the neck and head, the shot having spread out upon leaving the gun and creating a bigger target area, but less lethal because of it. The two soldiers screamed and fell to the floor, both alive but both seriously injured. Issy was about to return fire when the gang member holding the shotgun’s head disappeared in a pink cloud of spray, obviously taken out by one of the snipers. Issy selected another target and continued firing. What she didn’t see were some of the civilians raising their arms and shooting at some of the gang members from close range; these were the Warders who remained hidden amongst the civilians but had brought their own weapons to the party.

  Within just a couple of minutes the firefight was all over; many of the eighty or so gang members had been killed or wounded in what was effectively a massacre. The rest had dropped their weapons and sank to their knees with their hands in the air.

  Zak managed to find the leads to the music equipment and pulled them loose. The music was instantly cut off and a deathly hush fell upon the lawn area, punctuated by some crying and screaming.

  Issy could heard some muffled shots coming from the direction of Byward Tower as she and the remaining members of her sub-team rose from their positions and carefully made their way onto the lawn, ever vigilant for any further attacks. She saw that Don and a few of his sub-team were already up the steps and entering the White Tower, with the rest of his sub-team covering the gang members to her right. The civilians stayed where they were, waiting to be told when they could move. As Issy approached the kneeling gang members a shot rang out and everyone stopped and looked quickly around. A gang member had somehow appeared from behind them and one of the snipers had done their job.

  “Everyone stay where they are!” Issy shouted, as she heard one of her sub-team confirm through her earpiece that the main gates had been secured.

  “Daniel, where are you?” Issy called out.

  “Here,” Daniel replied as he got to his feet, grass stains covering his knees.

  “Get your Warders to collect the weapons.” Issy watched as Daniel and Rhys identified their colleagues and started taking all weapons from the gang members and placing them in a pile out of arms reach. “Make sure you pat them down Issy added.”

  Issy turned to her sub-team. “Check for any injured and ensure the dead are dead.” They knew exactly what she meant as they withdrew their Bowie knives and started moving around the bodies in the area.

  As Daniel and his men finished clearing the weapons, Don emerged from the White Tower with their four colleagues from Heathrow and two unarmed gang members who were being pushed along with their hands on their heads.

  Joel walked over to Issy with a smile on his face, “Good to se
e you Issy. Anything I can do to help?”

  “Hi Joel, good to see you in one piece. Perhaps you could deal with the civilians while I speak to Daniel and figure out what we do with the Judge and Jury, wherever they are.”

  “No problem, leave it to me.” He moved away and started helping some of the civilians up off the ground, and together with the Warders, started arranging for them to go back to their accommodation for the time being.

  Daniel and Don came over to Issy. “What next Issy?” Daniel asked.

  Issy looked around the area before responding. “Don, get your sub-team to move the gang members into the White Tower and keep them guarded. Daniel, where’s that fucking Judge and his bitch?”

  Don moved off to carry out his orders as Daniel pointed in the direction of Mamba’s cottage and said, “They’re both in there with a number of civilian women and girls.”

  “How come?”

  “Mamba selected his own little harem to entertain himself,” Daniel said sadly and left it at that.

  “Well, it’s about time you introduced me,” Issy replied with a ferocious look on her face.

  62

  Day 7 – 22:10

  Green Park Estate, Stepney, East London

  Irish was about to issue orders when Charlie Team heard shots echoing in the stairwell, seemingly from a higher floor. Their suspicions were confirmed moments later when the heli pilot came through on the comms to confirm that he and his co-pilot had had contact with the remaining two gang members up on the roof.

  “I think we wounded one before they turned and scuttled back inside the stairwell. We should’ve waited a little longer and might then have hit them both,” the pilot added ruefully.

  “Have you checked the stairwell?” Irish asked as he signalled for two of the team to take the stairs up.

  “Not yet, they’ve only just gone, and we wanted to make sure they weren’t going to pop back out as we were walking across open space to the doorway. We’ll go now.”

  “Roger. Two friendlies are on their way up so be careful if you shoot at anything but stay on the roof and protect the heli.”

  Irish turned to look at the lifts, but he couldn’t tell if they were working or even what floor they might be on. Then he realised that they couldn’t be working as the electric was out. Doh!

  “How the fuck did they get from the ground to the roof without passing you?” Irish pondered aloud.

  “There must be a fire escape or something,” one of the soldiers suggested.

  “Fuck!” Irish fumed. “Of course! A shithole like this is bound to have lots of rat runs for the rats that live here. Check the end of each corridor and be careful! I’ll wait here.”

  The two remaining soldiers took a corridor each and made their way cautiously to each end of the horseshoe.

  “Fire escape on the East side,” came through Irish’s comms, “and there’s someone coming down.” A few seconds later there was a couple of shots, a long drawn out and tapering scream followed by a thud then silence. “Rat down, one to go,” came through the comms.

  The two soldiers who had gone up the stairs had not seen or heard anything until they reached the tenth floor. Despite the dark, they could see pools of blood on the stairs and followed the trail to the Western corridor.

  “The last rat went West on ten. He’s injured,” came through the comms. “Following the trail.”

  “Nothing on the Western fire escape,” came a further update.

  “Must be on a corridor between five and ten,” Irish advised. “I’m climbing to five. “Keep both fire escapes covered in case he goes from one side of the building to the other. Take it slow, no need for unnecessary casualties.”

  Irish carefully climbed the stairs to the fifth floor, pausing now and again to listen for any noises. He quickly and quietly checked each of the corridors there was no one around. On his way back to the stairwell a door opened, and a man stepped out. Irish trained his MP5 on the man and harshly ordered him back inside. The man took one look at Irish and quickly disappeared, the door slamming behind him.

  “Nothing on five,” Irish advised, as he reached the stairwell. “Moving to six.”

  Irish went through the same process on the sixth and seventh floors but there was still no sign of the last rat.

  On eight, Irish started out on the Western corridor. He reached the ninety-degree turn in the corridor as it turned South and walked a few more yards along it. He could see to the end and it was obviously clear, so he turned to go back.

  After a couple of steps he stopped with a frown on his face, before retracing his steps. ‘Wonderful thing, the subconscious’ he thought to himself as he looked down the corridor once again. He was right. There was what looked like blood on the floor which stopped at a door to one of the flats.

  “On eight, rat located. Move in.” Irish ordered.

  A few minutes later the rest of Charlie Team were on level eight, three arriving from the Western fire escape and one along the corridor behind Irish.

  “Wait up!” they heard through their comms as they head Bear clattering up the stairs before running along the corridor to catch them up. They heard him singing ‘There’s a rat in my kitchen, what am I gonna do?’ between heavy breaths, which brought a smile to the soldiers faces and a few shakes of the head.

  “UB40? Are you sure?” one of the soldiers muttered under his breath.

  “Alright Bear?” Irish asked as he arrived.

  “Good as new, never better,” Bear replied, showing his bandaged arm. “Looking more like Rambo every day.”

  Irish indicated that the team should get ready before sidling up towards the flat’s door and knocking on it with his MP5, making sure to stay well out of the way.

  “Open up and come out with your hands up,” he shouted. “Any messing and you will be killed.”

  There was some movement from inside the flat before a woman’s voice came back to them from the other side of the door.

  “My son is injured and he’s surrenderin’,” she advised between sobs.

  “Then open the door and pass me his weapon,” Irish ordered.

  “Ok, just a mo,” came the response, followed by footsteps moving away and then coming back. The door was opened a crack and an old AK47 was passed through.

  “Are there any more weapons?” Irish asked.

  “He has a knife but no more guns,” the mother replied.

  “Ok, then open the door and let us in. If we see a gun or any attempt to attack us we will open fire.”

  The door opened slowly to reveal a small, middle aged black lady with hair starting to grey around the edges. She still had tears running down her cheeks from where she had been crying and it was obvious that she was trying very hard to put on a brave face.

  “I knew you would be comin’ and I did warn him, but he didn’t listen.”

  She backed off and gestured that the soldiers should enter. “He’s though here,” she added, leading the way.

  Irish followed and at the threshold of the door where the woman had gone, he paused and took a quick look inside before pulling back. He realised that he had seen a young man lying on his back on a bed, obviously not an immediate threat, so he entered the bedroom with his MP5 raised as the rest of the team automatically started a search of the flat.

  Bear joined Irish in the bedroom and they both looked down on the figure on the bed as Irish lowered his weapon. He could only have been fifteen or sixteen and it was clear he was still bleeding, his mother sitting to their left, wiping away the blood with a cloth. He was sweating, and tears were rolling down his cheeks as he stared straight up at the ceiling. There was nothing in the boy’s hands so Irish passed his MP5 to Bear and moved towards the bed.

  “Where’s he been hit? Irish asked, leaning over to take a look.

  “His shoulder,” the mother replied, rinsing out her cloth from a bucket on the floor.

  “Let me look,” Irish ordered and waited while the mother got out of his way. He leant
over and looked at the entry wound high up on the boy’s right shoulder. He gently rolled the boy onto his left side and could see the exit wound on his back. He rolled the boy back.

  “You’ll survive. You’re very lucky,” Irish advised. “Our heli pilot was only using a pistol and the round has gone straight through.” He turned to the mother. “Get me some fresh hot water, bandages and antiseptic and I’ll dress the wound.”

  As the mother moved off, the boy’s eyes flicked towards Irish. “You do realise the Judge’ll be back and then you’ll be in serious trouble?”

  “Don’t you worry about the Judge,” Irish replied with a smile on his face. “The Judge is being dealt with as we speak.”

  63

  Day 7 – 22:10

  Tower of London, Inner Ward

  As Issy and Daniel headed towards Mamba’s cottage, she signalled to two of her sub-team to join her. She clicked on her comms and asked the Bravo snipers to shadow her. “We may be in a situation where I need you to take out the Judge and Jury, so keep your eyes peeled and be ready.”

  “Roger Issy,” came the response. “We’ve got you in the crosshairs.”

  Issy had to smile, “Not me, you prick!” she replied with a little chuckle.

  As they walked across Tower Green towards the cottage the door opened and one of the civilian women appeared in the doorway. She was dishevelled, shaking and tears were running down her face.

  “P-please don’t come any closer,” she stuttered, trying to keep things together, “if you do, one of us will be killed,” she advised.

  Issy, Daniel and the two soldiers stopped and stared at the woman. Issy was already annoyed but now she was fuming. She looked at Daniel and whispered, “is there any other way in there?”

  “No, unfortunately not,” Daniel whispered back.

  “What do they want?” Issy asked the woman.

  The women turned to look at someone who was obviously standing right behind the door.

  Issy clicked her comms. “Bravo snipers, I want one of you aiming at the cottage door and one on the window to the side.”