by Hatchett
“Well, that’s a decision for the Prime Minister, here, but we have another problem.”
“What’s that?”
“We can’t find Sir James, so at the moment, we couldn’t hand him over even if we wanted to.”
“So, what are you going to do?” Jack asked. “We could send our Apache’s but I’m not sure they will be able to help much, and it might be too late by the time they get there anyway.”
Martin looked at his watch. Five-fifty.
“I don’t know,” Martin said, running a hand over his face and head, “and we’ve only got five minutes or so to come up with something.”
“Will this man carry out his threats?” the Prime Minister interjected for the first time.
“Without doubt,” Issy confirmed, wishing she hadn’t wound Mamba up as much as she had when they had spoken. “He’s having fun and proving a point to us at the same time. Once he’s finished with you, there’s no doubt he’ll head back here. There’s unfinished business.”
“So, we need to stop him somehow,” Martin opined. “Any ideas?”
There was silence as everyone considered the situation. It was interrupted by a quick knock on the door and one of Martin’s soldiers popped his head around the door.
“We haven’t found Sir James, but one of the trains has gone.”
Martin closed his eyes, thinking things couldn’t get any worse.
“Which line?”
“London.”
Martin nodded and the soldier left the room.
“He’s heading for Downing Street,” Martin confirmed. “What’s the betting he’s running to you?”
“I think you’re right,” Jack agreed.
“I have an idea,” the Prime Minister said. “Thanks for your time Jack. We’ll get back to you if it works.”
The Prime Minister indicated that Martin should close the call.
59
Day 24 – 05:55
Burlington to London
Sir James sat alone in a luxurious seat in the front carriage of the train travelling from Burlington to London, regularly taking sips from the bottle of brandy he had procured from one of the many drinks cabinets inside the train and which he now held by the neck and rested on his thigh. Next to him on the floor was his suitcase which he had hastily packed with his few meagre belongings.
As soon as he had seen the soldiers dying at the hands of the zombies and some of the infected soldiers being brought back through the entrance, the writing had been on the wall. It was just a matter of time before Burlington succumbed to either the zombies or the attackers and he wasn’t about to stick around and wait for that to happen.
He had decided then and there that it was time to get out, so he told Martin he was popping out and rushed back to his accommodation and got ready to leave.
He thought he would have plenty of time before Martin started wondering where he had gone. The man was under pressure and fighting fires so he wouldn’t really be missed. He had the distinct impression that Martin didn’t have much time for him anyway, though he couldn’t understand why.
Once packed, he had called one of the buggies and headed straight to the train terminal in Sector 12. Of course, there were a couple of guards barring the way to the train station, but he had soon sent them off to do a fire fighting job all the way across the site in Sector 21, not that there was a fire there of course, but by the time they realised this, he would be long gone.
Once the guards had gone, he retrieved his suitcase from the buggy and entered the terminal through the automatic doors and headed along the marble walkway and down a few steps straight to the platforms.
There were six full sized trains lined up under bright lights. The three furthest to his left had come from Edinburgh, Manchester and Birmingham and the other three had come from London. It didn’t matter which one he picked as long as it was one of the London ones; he certainly didn’t want to be heading North and the unknown. No, he wanted to get to Heathrow where he would be safe.
He walked across the platform to the first of the London trains and continued walking up to the front carriage. He slid his hand over the panel next to the door and it eased open silently. He then dropped his suitcase onto the floor next to a pair of seats and went to the front of the carriage where there were just two buttons to choose from; London or Burlington.
These trains had been purposely designed for simplicity and luxury, so he pressed the button for London and found himself a seat.
There came some short warning beeps before the electric motor hummed into life, the lights came on and the carriage doors closed. Then the train eased forward into the dark tunnel and gradually increased speed.
Sir James waited until the train was running smoothly before getting up and investigating one of the many drinks’ cabinets on board. He helped himself to a bottle of brandy and returned to his chosen seat.
He sank back into the comfortable seat and opened the bottle and took a large swig. In just forty-five minutes time he would be in Whitehall. He would then switch to a smaller train to take him to Downing street, swap again to the smallest train to Heathrow. All automated. Even an idiot could find his way.
Sir James took another swig from the bottle and leaned back into his seat and smiled.
60
Day 24 – 06:00
Burlington
Martin pressed the button on the walkie talkie. He’d had a few minutes to answer the Prime Minister’s questions before they had to speak to Mamba.
“Mamba? You there?”
“I’m here. Good ta see yer on time, otherwise there would’ve bin trouble. Ya got what I want?”
“Not exactly. It appears that Sir James has disappeared. We can’t find him anywhere.”
“I thought ya might’ve come up with a betta excuse than that,” Mamba said, derisorily.
“It’s the truth…” Martin started to protest.
“Mamba. This is the Prime Minister,” the Right Honourable Charles Barrington MP interrupted. “What Martin here has told you is correct, but I have an alternative solution.”
“What?” Mamba asked, confused.
“Because we can’t meet your demands, I am willing to give myself up to you instead, on behalf of the people down here.”
There was a few seconds silence.
“Yer’ve got ten minutes. If anyone steps outta that entrance except ya, we will kill y’all.”
61
Day 24 – 06:10
Corsham
Mamba and Ahmed watched the entrance door carefully, their MP5s resting in front of them on the grass.
Over the past ten minutes Mamba had been in touch with his men and been told that everything was quiet. He’d updated them on what was expected to happen and told them what he wanted them to do. Then it was just a case of taking out some zombies who wandered a bit close and waiting.
At eleven minutes past six by his watch, the entrance door cracked open and bright light spilled out. A man was silhouetted by the light, but it was impossible to see who he was.
The man stepped forward and the entrance door was immediately clanged shut and the man just stood there, trying to peer around in the dark, waiting to see what would happen next.
Suddenly two figures appeared from either side of the door, grabbed the man by the arms and led him forwards at a quick march.
Mamba watched as Kiraz and Serkan dragged the man around the side of a building and out of sight. Mamba and Ahmed stayed where they were, watching the entrance in case the people below decided to follow. Mamba gave it ten minutes, and nothing happened, so he updated his men, got up, stretched and joined up with Ahmed and headed back to St Barbaras Road and the waiting transit.
Ahmed took the wheel while Mamba climbed into the back to have a chat with their prisoner. The internal light was on and the man was sitting on the floor with plasticuffs around his hands and feet. Mamba recognised him immediately from the TV announcements and a cunning smile spread across his face.
“Yeah, didn’t find anything,” Kiraz confirmed. “Nothing on him at all.”
“Good.”
Mamba continued to stare as the van started up and pulled away.
“Yer the fuck who saved his own arse ‘n left the rest of us ta look after ourselves,” Mamba stated.
The PM just nodded.
“Big mistake man, big mistake.”
Mamba spent the rest of the journey staring at the PM in silence.
62
Day 24 – 06:25
Corsham
Mamba, Ahmed, Kiraz and Serkan led the PM across the last few yards under the brightening sky into the Hunter’s Arms and straight into the lounge where they dumped the PM into one of the seats before heading to the bar and grabbing some beers.
There were a dozen men in the bar, keeping a close watch on the two soldiers they had captured earlier.
The four returned to the PM, who was looking around the room, clearly surprised by the electric lights working.
“Ya expectin’ us ta be back in caves?” Mamba asked sarcastically as he sat down.
“No…no. I was just marvelling at how you’ve managed to block the town off from the zombie threat and restore electricity. Simply marvellous.”
“Wasn’t us.”
The PM looked confused.
“There’s a whole town here that ya left ta die.”
The PM had the decency to look down at his feet in regret.
Before Mamba could say anything else, the lounge door opened and Faruk and Ismet sauntered in with huge smiles on their faces. They headed towards Mamba, who just said ‘they’re yers, but in the garden’, then they diverted towards the two soldiers.
The two soldiers saw Faruk and Ismet coming towards them and started trembling. Faruk grabbed one of the soldiers while Ismet grabbed the other and they started dragging the men towards the door that would take them out into the back garden.
The men were trying desperately to pull back, but Faruk produced one of his knives and the men stopped fighting.
“What’s going on?” the PM asked with concern, as the two soldiers were dragged out of the room.
“Ya gotta feed snakes some rats from time ta time else they get hungry ‘n unpredictable,” Mamba replied.
It was clear the PM had no idea what Mamba was talking about, but he could see from the looks on the other faces around the table that it was nothing good.
“I thought we had a deal?” the PM pointed out.
Mamba looked around the room.
“Ahmed? Ya see any gorgeous models or actresses?”
Ahmed shook his head.
“I gave myself up instead,” the PM continued.
Mamba stared at him.
“No. Ya gave yerself up fer that prick Sir Whatever.”
The PM closed his eyes as if wishing the nightmare away.
“What do you want Sir James for anyway?” the PM asked. “He really has disappeared, you know?”
“I don’t really want him,” Mamba replied. “I jus’ heard the way he spoke ta Jack ‘n I jus’ thought he was an arrogant prick. So, I’m doin’ it fer Jack.”
“Jack?” the PM asked.
“Jack. The boss at Heathrow. Fer now, anyway.”
The PM finally understood, sort of. He knew who Jack Robinson was – he’d just been on the phone with him – and he also knew that Sir James had been his immediate boss before the zombie outbreak. Sir James had tried to get Jack to come to Burlington as part of the security team, but the man had turned it down to stay at Heathrow. He would’ve liked to have met Jack in person, and seen what sort of person he was, but he didn’t think this would happen now.
As he was pondering the situation and trying to piece it all together, the first screams came from the direction of the garden.
“Boys will be boys,” Mamba commented drily.
“You don’t need to do this,” the PM pleaded. “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement where everyone is happy.”
“’N live happily ever after?” Mamba said sarcastically.
“Yes,” the PM confirmed, knowing deep down that he was wasting his breath.
“Ain’t happenin’.”
“But there are over eight thousand people underground,” the PM continued, another set of screams rippling through the room.
Even Ahmed, Kiraz and Serkan looked a little uneasy knowing what was happening outside. Mamba’s countenance didn’t change.
“’N there’ll be a lot less by the time I’m finished,” Mamba replied.
“There must be something I can do or say,” the PM offered.
The door to the lounge opened again and Natalie walked into the lounge in her dressing gown and with her hair sticking out all over the place.
“What is all that noise?” she asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “It woke me up.”
“Jus’ Faruk ‘n Ismet lettin’ off a bit of steam.”
Natalie looked around the table and did a double take when she recognised the PM.
“Aren’t you the…”
“Yes, he is. Now sit down ‘n shut up or go back ta bed,” Mamba ordered.
Natalie was shocked by his tone. It was a side of Mamba she hadn’t really seen before, well, not directed at her anyway.
She decided that it was probably a good idea to go back to the room…where she would pack her bag as quickly as possible and get out of there.
“What are you going to do?” the PM asked.
“Ain’t decided yet. I’m gonna sleep on it. But first, ya need ta tell that chump underground that he betta sit tight fer now ‘n we’ll give him an update at…” Mamba looked at his watch, “two this afternoon. If anyone comes out the hole, everythin’ goes up. Got it?”
“Yes, that’s clear,” confirmed the PM.
Mamba switched on the walkie talkie and handed it over to the PM who dutifully told Martin to hold fire until later that afternoon when he’d get back to him with an update. Once he was finished, Mamba snatched the walkie talkie back and turned it off.
Mamba then tapped his own comms and told his men what to do if anyone came out of Burlington. He then told them that he would arrange for others to take over so people could get some sleep and stay fresh. He tasked Kiraz and Serkan with sorting out shifts for the watchers.
“Ahmed, a word,” Mamba said, getting up and moving away a few metres.
Ahmed got up slowly and followed, yet another scream coming from the garden.
“Man, why ya let ‘em nutters do that?”
Mamba just shrugged.
“Ain’t important. We need a few hours kip. Ya can keep the PM in yer room. Shoot the fucker if he plays up.”
“Yeah, but what ‘bout the rest of it?”
“I got some ideas, we’ll talk later. Back here at one.”
Ahmed nodded and headed back to collect the PM.
Mamba left the lounge and headed for his room. He wasn’t entirely surprised to see that Natalie had gone and wasn’t particularly bothered in any case. ‘Plenty more fish’ he thought to himself.
He didn’t bother getting undressed. He just dropped on the bed fully clothed and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
63
Day 24 – 07:15
Heathrow
The small train pulled into the secret Heathrow station and Sir James Curtis-Smyth walked through the carriage doors onto the platform.
He had left Burlington at five to six and arrived in Whitehall at six forty-five. He quickly pressed the return button to send the train back to Burlington, hoping that no one would notice that it had gone missing.
He didn’t bother going upstairs in Whitehall. He’d been there and done that, and he had no idea what might be waiting for him up there in any case. It definitely wasn’t worth the risk. He walked across the platform to the train that would take him to Downing Street, then made another switch for the final journey to Heathrow. He
wasn’t best pleased having to wait fifteen minutes for the Heathrow train to turn up once it had been called. He’d incorrectly assumed that it would have been sitting on the platform waiting for him to use.
He walked to the lift and pressed the call button. The doors slid open immediately and he walked in, pressing the button to go up.
A couple of minutes later, the doors re-opened and he pushed the back of the moveable bookcase which sat behind the desk in Jack Robinson’s office.
He entered the office to find Jack sitting in a chair opposite the doorway. It was clear he had been waiting for Sir James to arrive. There was a younger woman with pink hair sitting in a similar chair near him. Pink, for God’s sake! What was the World coming to?
“Ah, Jack, old boy,” Sir James started, as he closed the bookcase.
“You can stick all that ‘old boy’ crap where the sun don’t shine,” Jack replied with open hostility.
Sir James was taken aback by the response but tried to reassert his authority.
“Now, look here old…” Sir James started.
“Stop!” Jack almost shouted. “You should not be here, especially without speaking to me first. I see you’ve run away from Burlington when the going got a bit tough. No change there then. A bit like you deserting your role to go to Burlington to be with all your so called ‘chums’.”
“I have been talking about a visit for weeks,” Sir James argued, “and I did not desert. I was serving my bosses, something you would do well to remember seeing as I’m your boss.”
“You lost that position as soon as you left for Burlington. Now you are nothing and will be treated no differently to anyone else. If you wish to stay here, you will do as your told. If not, you’re free to catch the train back…right now.”
“You cannot speak to me like that!” Sir James almost shouted.
“Shut the fuck up,” Issy said menacingly, slowly rising to her feet.
“And you are?” Sir James said, condescendingly.
“I’m your worst nightmare,” Issy replied approaching him. “So, you staying or going?”
