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Authors: Paul Grzegorzek

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BOOK: Flare
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“There we are”, Emily said, nodding towards a small building with a white gas tank next to it, a series of pipes connecting the two as they disappeared inside the brickwork.

“Great, now what?”

She glanced up at me.  “Why do I have to come up with all the ideas?”

“Because you’re an engineer.  I’m just a puking journo, remember?”

I smiled as I said it and got an answering grin.  It was like the sun coming up, and heat flared in my stomach.

Perhaps she felt it too, because she suddenly looked down and cleared her throat.

“Right then, let’s walk a little bit further and then head back, eh?”

I nodded and we carried on, passing the small building without showing too much interest for the sake of our constant shadow.

We walked on for another few minutes, then rounded the far side of the admin building and headed back, taking our time in the cool evening air.

I didn’t have much to say, but just being in Emily’s company was enough.  I longed to reach out and take her hand but I was too scared of being turned down, or worse, laughed at, so instead I contented myself with walking close enough that every so often my hand brushed her arm, and convinced myself that was enough.

The sun was beginning to set as we reached the accommodation block, a golden-orange disk slipping over the horizon and turning everything to amber.  I wondered for a moment how something so beautiful could be so deadly, but then wasn’t that often the way with nature?

When we returned to the room the door was ajar.  A stab of worry hit me, even though I had nothing personal to steal, but as I hurried in I saw that a large pile of books and papers had been left in an untidy stack next to the bed.

Emily closed the door behind her.

“What the hell is that?”

“No idea”.  I picked up the first book and saw that it was a 2013 diary, the red cover worn and the gilt lettering already flaking.

I opened it and flicked through, reading an entry here and there until I realised what it was.

Dropping it back on the pile I picked up a small notepad, scanning the pages until I was sure.

“He was bloody serious!”

“What?”  She asked, picking up the discarded diary and reading a few pages.

“Is this the
Secretary’s
?”

I nodded.  “It sure is.  I’d hoped he was joking when he told me he wanted me to write his biography.  He must have been making notes and collecting things for years.  Who in hell brings their notes to an end-of-the-world party?”

“The man in charge, I guess”.

“Yeah, well at least we know how we’re starting the fire now”.

She laughed, a delicate peal that made me smile in return.

“So what happens after we’ve started the fire?”  She asked, the laughter fading
as quickly as it had come.

“We use the distraction to find a vehicle and don’t stop driving until we run out of fuel, I guess”.

She frowned.  “Doesn’t sound like much of a plan”.

I shrugged.  “If you’ve got a better one then I’m all ears”.

“Not off the top of my head.  When do you want to try it?”

“I don’t know.  I suppose we’ll just have to wait until we can find the right moment, then make a break for it”.

Only, as it turned out, we didn’t have to wait after all.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 41

I was woken by someone pounding on the door.  I sat up, almost falling out of the narrow bed as Emily shifted beside me.  We’d fallen asleep pressed against each other in the cramped confines, but by unspoken agreement neither of us had done
more than rest an arm on the other.  Whatever might blossom between us one day, it wouldn’t happen here.

The room was pitch black and it took me a few seconds to get my bearings.

“I’m awake”, I called, and the door opened to show the outline of our guard in the eye-watering light of the LED lantern he held.

“You need to get up and get dressed”, he said shortly, “the Secretary needs you
now
”.

I felt Emily tense. The only reason I could think of for being woken in the middle of the night was the discovery that the paperwork she had stolen was missing, and we exchanged a worried glance as the guard set his lantern on the floor and closed the door.

As soon as he was gone I jumped out of bed and pulled my combats on.  We’d both worn underwear and T-shirts in bed, and as Emily swung her long legs out from under the blanket I tried not to stare.

“Does he mean both of us?”  She asked as she began to dress.

“No idea, but if I’m going, I want you there with me”.

She nodded and began to button her uniform shirt.

“Do you think it’s about this?”  She waved the papers at me.

“I don’t know, but I don’t see what else it can be about”.  I reached out and took the bundle, stuffing it deep into the pile of notes the Secretary had left for me.  “Good luck to them finding it in that lot”.

In a few moments we were ready, and I opened the door with lantern in hand to find the guard almost hopping from foot to foot in the hallway.

“This way”, he said the moment he saw us, leading us out of the building without another word, clearly anxious to deliver his package.

The night sky was a riot of colour, the swirling snakes of blue, red and green almost taking my breath away with their beauty.  It drew my eyes even as we walked, shimmering curtains like a veil across the stars
, brighter than a full moon.

A shout from outside the Admin building made me tear my eyes from the sky to see several Landrovers outside the offices, bonnets up and batteries being replaced while soldiers in battle gear hurried to and fro.

“What’s going on?”  I asked the guard, but he ignored me and picked up the pace instead, only halting when we reached the vehicles.

A soldier a few years older than me with the crown of a Major on his chest tab and a fierce expression
under his Kevlar helmet accepted a salute from the guard and gestured at me irritably.

“You go in the second vehicle with the Secretary, but I’ve got no orders about
her
”.  He hiked a thumb as Emily as if she was a piece of luggage, instantly putting my back up.

“What’s your name?”  I demanded, suddenly tired of all this military posturing and following orders.

“Major Curtis”.

“Well, Major, I’m not sure what my official title is but I’m on the Secretary’s staff.  If I say she goes, she goes”.  I tried to look imposing as I spoke, forcing away the remembered reflection of dandelion hair and hollow eyes.

The Major looked at me for several long seconds and then shrugged.

“Fine.  Not worth the hold up to argue.  Second vehicle, if you please”.

I nodded and climbed into the rear of the second Landrover, wedging myself in between two soldiers and a man in a civilian suit with a hard expression and a tiny pin on his lapel that I’d seen somewhere before.

Two more men with suits were in the vehicle, one driving while the other sat on his own on the seat just behind, with space next to him for the Secretary.

Emily sat next to me, and suspecting I wouldn’t get any answers from the other passengers I chose to wait until the secretary arrived for an explanation about our midnight ride.

I didn’t have to wait long. 
Outside, soldiers leapt into vehicles and then the Secretary himself came out, a Kevlar vest strapped over his shirt and an incongruous-looking helmet perched on his head with the rim touching his glasses.

He climbed in and looked around, nodding at me before slapping the driver on the shoulder.

“Are we good, Geoff?”  He asked, sounding wired.

The driver nodded.  “We’re good sir.  Following the Major’s lead until we get there”.

As one the vehicles pulled away, soldiers on the gate lifting the barrier and dropping it again the moment the last vehicle was through.

The Secretary half-turned in his seat to look at me, frowning slightly when he saw Emily but not passing comment.

“I guess you want to know where we’re going, eh?”  He asked, his hands fidgeting with the top of his vest.

I nodded.  “Wouldn’t say no”.

“About an hour ago, one of our patrols ran into another army unit. They had the audacity to tell our men to stand down and submit to their authority, claimed they were acting on behalf of the Deputy Prime Minister”.

I felt a sudden surge of hope.  If there were other, higher members of the cabinet out there then the Secretary’s reign could be cut thankfully short.

“What happened?”

“What do you think happened?  Our men refused and then some hothead on the other side started shooting.  We had
greater numbers and the upper hand, of course, but now the others are holed up in a petrol station and we can’t dig them out.  One of ours was sent back for reinforcements, so I’m going out there to wave the olive branch and see if we can’t bring them over to us”.

“But surely if they are working for the Deputy Prime Minister then we’ve got a duty to submit to his lead?”  I asked,
instantly regretting it the Secretary spluttered with rage.

“Have you ever met the man?”  He demanded. “Edwin Collins couldn’t lead ants to a jam pot!  He’s a pencil-pusher of the worst order, and one of the coalition, not even a proper politician if you ask me!”

“So why am I here?”

He took a deep breath, visibly forcing himself to be calm before continuing.

“You’re here because I want every word I say recorded.  Whatever happens tonight, I need everyone to know that every decision I make is for the good of this country, and not for personal power”.

I nodded as if I believed him.  “Of course.  I’ll make sure I record everything”.

“Good”, he said, turning back to look out of the windscreen, “see that you do”.

The roar of the engine and the vibration of metal on metal drowned out any attempts at further conversation as we tore through country lanes at breakneck speed.

Judging from the number of abandoned cars that had been forced up on the side of the road, I guessed that the army had already cleared routes that led to and from the camp in case of situation like this where speed was of the essence.

We’d been driving for about half an hour when I began to hear faint popping sounds, a little like fireworks in the distance, but as we drew closer the cracks became louder, more sustained and I realised that we were listening to gunfire.

The convoy pulled to a halt in the middle of nowhere and I craned my neck to get a better view of what was going on, but all I could see was the back of the first Landrover as it disgorged soldiers who immediately fanned out around the vehicles, rifles pointing towards the hedges that lined the road.

“Out out out!”  The soldier nearest the rear door yelled, and pushed it open to jump into the road and join the defensive formation.

Emily, the suited man and I got out more slowly, the man joining the two other suits to form a protective ring around the Secretary as his shoes touched tarmac.

The gunfire was louder now but sporadic, occasional bursts ripping through the air as ghostly light from the Aurora bathed the scene.

A tired, filthy soldier ran up to the Secretary and saluted, his uniform stinking of cordite and his face smeared with dirt.

“We’re holding them sir, but they’re good.  I’m not sure it’s safe for you to come any closer yet”.

The secretary nodded as nervous sweat dripped from under his helmet, his eyes wide as he flinched from each burst of gunfire.

“How many casualties?”

“Seven, sir”.

“How many of ours?”

The soldier glanced down and then back up before speaking.

“Uh, seven sir”.

“What?”

“Like I said sir, they’re good”, the soldier said hurriedly.  “they’re
not regular army”.

“What do you mean?”  The Secretary’s eyes were bulging behind his glasses, no doubt as he saw part of his dream of a country unified under his leadership slip away.

“They claimed to be 21 SAS sir, out of London.  Said they made their way to the barracks when the flare hit, then tabbed on foot to Downing Street through the fires.  Tough bastards, sir”.

I could hear the admiration in his tone, and wondered how he could justify fighting people that should be on the same side, particularly those he held in such high regard.

Even I had heard of 21 SAS, a reserve regiment with several bases, one of which was in London somewhere, and I could well imagine them running through the fires if that’s what they put their minds to.

“What’s the situation now?”  The Secretary demanded, fists clenched.

“They’ve taken cover in a petrol station.  They’ve got a sniper on the roof and perhaps a dozen men inside.  They’re well-armed too, sir, plenty of ammo.  We won’t dig them out in a hurry without a lot more men”.

BOOK: Flare
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