Capital Falling Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3]
see your scars and everything!"I laugh. "I'll get dressed, then I'll get you some breakfast," I go back into my bedroom, sit on the end of the bed and concentrate again on the TV.
Chapter 3
What I see on the television news, while sitting on the end of my bed in my towel, is unbelievable, even for an ex-military man like myself.
The reporter, still broadcasting live from the scene, is in his early to mid-thirties with curly dark hair. He is panicked, bearing the look of a man afraid for his life, a look with which I’m very familiar.
From the corner of Marble Arch and looking down the length of Oxford Street, a police cordon with barriers blocks off Oxford Street’s nearest end. And it’s ominously empty of people from about ten meters ahead of him.
“At approximately 12.30 a.m. this morning, a fire broke out at what is described as a Secret Government Storage Facility, in some way connected to the Ministry of Defence. And it’s said that the fire caused the release of some kind of toxin, virus or disease that is, as yet, unidentified,” he says, his eyes wide and his raised voice showing obvious distress.
“As a precaution, the police have cordoned off a large part of the centre of London, with all roads closed and there is no access in or out from the cordoned-off area.”
“It is my understanding,” he goes on, “that the release is highly contagious but not airborne, meaning that whatever the release is, it is not in the air and cannot be breathed in.
“The Government has issued a statement informing all members of the public in the Greater London area to stay indoors, both inside the cordoned-off area and outside it until the situation is under control. So, wherever you are now—if you are inside, stay there, and if you are on the streets, go to the nearest safe place inside and remain there until further notice.
“The Government has also issued an order for all schools and other public facilities, all businesses and places of work in the Greater London area to close for the day. So, do not attempt to travel.”
Behind the reporter, the police at the cordon suddenly spring into action and start to open the barrier blocking off the access to Oxford Street.
The reporter stops dead in the middle of his report, his head turning slightly to the right; he is obviously looking at something. His lips keep moving slightly as if he is about to say something, while an audible rumbling comes through the TV. His head moves to the right slightly more, as if he is following something.
I know what is coming before it even appears, as I know the sound all too well. The television camera swings towards the source of the rumbling and from the left of the TV screen, a Challenger 2 tank appears, its massive tracks looking like they will tear up the road’s tarmac.
The tank rumbles past the reporter, heading directly towards the now open barrier of the police cordon. Immediately behind the Challenger, following in tight formation, come five Bulldog personnel carriers, each of which will be carrying at least ten combat-ready troops. The Bulldogs are then followed by two Warrior armoured vehicles, their gun turrets pointing forwards. Then more Bulldogs come.
An Apache Attack helicopter flies overhead slightly in the distance, providing aerial cover. The column keeps coming. There are other vehicles and personnel carriers in the column, more tanks and more Apaches flying overhead.
This is serious, I have no doubt about that now.
There is no way the powers-that-be would be imposing a curfew on the whole of Greater London and putting this much hardware and personnel into the middle of London if there wasn't an active, extremely high threat. For Christ’s sake, an armoured column is snaking down bloody Oxford Street for the whole world to see on television!
Reaching for my mobile phone and quickly unlocking it. I immediately press speed dial 2, barely taking my eyes off the TV; within two rings, the phone is answered.
“Good morning, Orion Securities?” Lindsay, one of Orion’s receptionists' answers in her pleasant voice.
“Extension 610, please.”
“Thank you. Please hold.” Thirty seconds later, Lindsay informs there is no answer from that extension.
“Morning, Lindsay, this is Andy Richards, security code alpha lima 97564. Please tell me, is Dan Atkins in the building?” Dan is now my number two at Orion.
Seconds later, she informs me that he is.
“Put a call out for him to contact reception immediately, please. Priority,” I tell her.
Moments later, the line clicks, and I hear Dan say, "Dan Atkins."
"Dan, it's Andy, report."
"Morning, Boss. I was just about to phone you. I have spoken to our contacts in the MOD and they either know very little or are not saying what was released from this secret research site. Only that it’s very serious."
"Did you speak to Colonel Reed?"
Reed wouldn't take his call, he informs me. Bastard, I say to myself. He had better bloody take my call; that is what he is paid for!
"Okay, Dan, what information do you have on troop movements and the part of the city in lockdown?"
"As you will know, the army has been mobilised, but how many troops is unclear. Our contacts have informed me that the city down from Oxford Street, parallel from Park Lane and Farringdon Street all the way to the Thames, is on lockdown. Other than that, I have nothing further to report at present, Boss".
"Thanks, Dan, I assume the necessary precautions are underway there?"
"Yes. I have called in all the bodies I can, and we are currently setting up both internal and external perimeters."
"Good, I'm going to make a few calls from here to see what I can find out. I'll be in touch," I tell him, and hang up.
Bloody hell, that is one large chunk of the city that is now effectively in quarantine, including Buckingham Palace and Westminster! What the hell is out