Project Apex (23 page)

"When the attack happened we were forced to work together to escape. Many lives were lost."

"Was it those men? The ones dressed in black?" Akhtar asked.

"Yeah, it was," Branning said. "Although we don’t know why. Communications are all shot to hell. Nobody seems to know anything."

"Who are they?" Akhtar asked.

"Who knows, kid," Branning said as he opened another door leading to a short corridor. "More terrorists most likely trying to push their agenda through fear."

"Is that remark aimed at me?" Hamada said.

Although he was physically inferior to Branning, there was an enigmatic air about Hamada. Akhtar imagined him to be a man used to leading rather than following, and one used even less to being spoken to in the way Branning was addressing him.

"You can take it however you want. Where I come from, we have a thing called freedom of speech. I’m used to calling a spade a spade, scum scum or-"

"A terrorist a terrorist, is that it?" Hamada interrupted.

"If the shoe fits." Branning hissed.

They had stopped walking and Hamada and Branning were nose to nose in the corridor.

"Please, I just want to see my brother," Akhtar said.

The two men stared each other down for a few more seconds, then Hamada averted his gaze and took a step back. "Let the American show you." He spat. "I'm sure he wouldn’t want terrorists mixing with the children."

Branning glared at Hamada as he retreated back into the room they had just come from and began to unpack supplies. "Come on kid," he said as he walked down the corridor to the steel door at its end. "Let's go find your brother."

Akhtar did as he was told, conscious of not getting on the bad side of Branning. He had heard horror stories about some of the things the soldiers did to locals or, at least, things they were said to have done. His father told him they were just stories – propaganda designed to make sure the local population didn’t trust the soldiers. Despite his friends saying otherwise, Akhtar tended to agree with his father and thought the notion of American and British soldiers murdering civilians for sport was ridiculously far-fetched - especially when they were out here risking their lives to protect civilians like him.

Branning opened the door at the end of the hall and pushed it open. "He was screaming and crying for you, so we had to sedate him," Branning said.

Akhtar peered into the gloom. Youness lay on a rough looking steel framed bed, covers pulled up to his chin. He was sleeping, his nose wheezing slightly as he exhaled.

"Is he alright?" Akhtar asked.

"He'll be fine. In a couple of hours, he'll wake up. It's probably a good idea you're here when he does."

"I will."

"Where are the rest of your family, kid?"

"I...I don’t know." Akhtar replied. "We were trying to get back to our home via the tunnels, but we got lost."

"Where were you trying to get to?"

"We live in an apartment in Thawra."

"Sadr City?" Branning said.

"Yes. Do you know it?"

"Yeah. I was here back in oh-nine when the Muraidi bomb exploded. I helped with the clean-up."

"My uncle was killed in that attack," Akhtar said. "I don’t remember it, but it was one of the only times I have ever seen my father cry."

"I’m sorry," Branning said.

"Are we close? I mean can we get to the surface and go get them? Bring them here?"

A shadow of uncertainty passed over Branning’s face. Not quite a frown but enough of a change for Akhtar to notice.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I didn’t realise. “Branning replied.

"Realise what?"

"How little you knew."

"About what?"

"What's happening out there?"

Akhtar didn’t reply. He simply watched and waited.

"Come with me," Branning said, gently closing the door and leaving Youness to sleep and returning back the way they had come. Akhtar followed as Branning walked straight past Hamada, the two ignoring each other. Branning led the way to a table in the corner and switched on the television. The picture faded in from black, and when it arrived, Akhtar half wished he had remained ignorant. The footage was grainy and shot from a helicopter high above the city. Smoke and fire billowed from buildings, others still were reduced to rubble. Without the censorship of other countries, the news had no issues showing the violence on the streets and the bullet-ridden bodies which littered it.

"What's happening?" Akhtar whispered.

"Nobody knows for sure. They say it’s some kind of uprising or revolution, some shit like that. Either way, going topside isn’t an option."

"What about my parents?"

"All you can do now is pray for them."

"But surely you can help, you and the other soldiers," Akhtar said as he stared at the news footage.

"There are no other soldiers or, at least, none we have been able to make contact with. We're on our own."

"But surely, someone will come to help us?"

Branning looked Akhtar in the eye, and the young Iraqi saw something he never expected. He saw fear.

"I don’t think so," Branning said. "This isn’t just us. This is happening everywhere."

"All over Iraq?"

"All over the world. Whoever these people are and wherever they have come from, they mean business. All we can do now is stay hidden and ride it out until we know what we're dealing with."

"But we need to go, to get out of the city," Akhtar said, fear and desperation making him angry.

"I agree, but we have to be realistic. We have no transport, barely any weapons or food and no idea where these people are who are attacking us or what they want. For now, it's best we stay here."

"But if we stay here they'll find us. It's only a matter of time." Akhtar said.

"I know. That's why I'll do everything in my power to make sure we're ready. Trust me, if there's one thing the United States Marine Corps teaches us, it's not to give up."

"What about my brother? He's not like us; he needs to be looked after. He won’t understand."

"I need you to make him understand. I need you to be ready to go when the time comes."

"What if we don’t make it? What if we can’t escape?"

"Then we end up like that," Branning said, nodding towards the television screen.

Akhtar looked at the images of the dead littering the streets, unable to comprehend the scale of the loss of life, how many who had been alive just a few hours ago were now extinguished. He wondered if he had seen any of them in life if any of those anonymous faces he had seen passing in the street just before the chaos began were now immortalised on the television screen. Akhtar had decided not to mention what he had seen at the roadblock when he was playing football to anyone, such was the sheer craziness of the situation. However, for better or worse, he trusted Branning, and such information might make the difference between life and death. He wasn’t sure it would make things better, especially since the situation already looked bleak without adding how the men in black seemed impervious to pain, even when shot, however, it was still information which might help.

"I know something about these people, the ones who are doing this. I... I've seen them before."

Branning tore his eyes away from the television screen and gave Akhtar his full attention.

"Tell me everything," He said.

Akhtar took a second to compose his thoughts, and then right there in the gloom of the underground pumping station, told Branning all about what happened at the roadblock.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

VASHI BRIDGE

MUMBAI

INDIA

THE TRUCK SPLUTTERED TO a halt halfway across the Vashi Bridge just outside of Mandala.  Suvari had been hoping to get across to mainland Navi Mumbai, and from there out into the dense jungle where they might be able to hide and protect the children from whoever was attacking the city. During the drive, she had seen the devastation and panic and had managed to piece enough together from the radio to know there was a major situation happening with similar attacks all over the world. She sat for a moment, listening to the engine tick as it cooled. The bridge looked incredibly long from where she was. More than that, it was incredibly exposed. The six lanes of the bridge were jammed with traffic as people tried to flee the fire-ravaged city. As she sat, another dull explosion rolled across the water. She had become so accustomed to the noise that she didn’t even look back at the fire-ravaged city. Across the bridge, partially shrouded in smog was the industrial suburb of Turbhe, its chimneys spewing acrid smoke into the air. She supposed that there at least might be a place to find shelter and perhaps find more transportation before moving on to the forest area beyond where she would set up some kind of camp where thy could stay in relative safety away from the populated areas of the city. She climbed out of the truck, the acrid air burning her throat as she walked to the back and looked at the frightened children inside.

"Come on, we have to walk," She said.

They didn’t move and only stared at her in fear.

"We have to hurry, it will be dark soon."

Still they stared and in a way, she didn’t blame them. They were probably as confused as she was. She tried to put herself back to the time when she was living on the streets, at the sheer simplicity and endless struggle of life. They simply didn’t understand.

"If we don’t go, the bad men will come," She said.

Half a dozen pairs of eyes looked at her from the gloom, and then one by one, they climbed out of the truck.

"Come on, this way," The children followed as she led them towards the maze-like industrial area, hoping she could find somewhere safe for them to hide. As they crossed the bridge, more explosions rocked the city, and as night fell, the sky above Mumbai was alive with the red-orange glow of hundreds of fires as the city was ravaged by its attackers.

CHAPTER TWENTY

HARMONY PLACE TRAILER PARK

WEST VIRGINIA

USA

DRAVEN HAD REMOVED GENARO’S notes from Herman's wall and spread them out across the table. He was working through them, trying as best he could to get a better understanding of Project Apex. Kate paced the room, looking out of the window as two military jets raced overhead, the sounds of the engines as they shrieked towards the capital deafening.

"Anything useful?" She said, turning towards Draven.

"Plenty, it's just a case of trying to sift through it now and figuring out what we need to do. The research was much further advanced than I ever expected."

"No pressure but we need something soon. As it is, I'm struggling to get through to Homeland. Things seem to be escalating in ways we never anticipated."

"That can't be good."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Draven said with a thin smile "If the people who are supposed to be protecting the country stop answering the phone, you know we have big problems."

"Hey, you two might wanna come see this," Herman said.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor watching the news.

"What is it?" Kate said as she stood behind Herman.

"Looks like your secret is about to break free. The President is about to address the nation."

Draven abandoned the mountain of notes and joined Kate and Herman in front of the television. On the screen was the familiar blue backdrop behind a podium bearing the presidential crest.

"I can’t wait for this," Herman said, eyes wide with excitement.

"This isn't some TV drama." Kate snapped.

"Look, don't get me wrong, I’m as distressed as anyone about what's happening here, but I've listened to your government lie and cover up what's really going on for years. Hell, it even went on before I was born. Remember Roswell? Weather balloon my ass."

"Shh, it's starting," Draven said.

Herman turned away from Kate and turned up the volume on the TV as the President entered the frame. He approached the podium and looked into the camera.

"He looks like hell," Draven said.

"Burden of all those lies, man," Herman replied. "Bound to get to you sooner or later."

"Shhh."

Herman looked at Kate, thought about carrying on then turned back to the television just as the president started to speak.

"I speak to you now, citizens of this great country at a time of crisis." President Fitzgerald said, his gaze unwavering as he looked straight down the camera. "As you have seen via reports from the multitude of news agencies across the world, we are under attack. And when I say we, I don’t just mean here in the United States of America. I refer also to our international neighbours, countries whose citizens also face this new threat, this coordinated attack from a group who so far remain anonymous."