Designated (Book 1): Designated Infected (11 page)

Baker chuckled, patting the Russian on the shoulder as
he pulled up a chair and sat down.

'How long have you been here?' Andrey quizzed a still
grinning Baker as he lay his head back down on the cool surface
beneath him.

'About twenty minutes. I managed to lose them in the
eastern tunnel and then doubled back and made it inside just as the
doors were closing, good thing you told me about that time lock on
them.'

Andrey grinned as he shut his eyes and tried to relax
his over tense muscles. 'Thought so too, almost forgot about it with
all the fun we were having.'

Baker snorted as he took a mouthful of water from the
bottle in his hand. The clear alkaline liquid dripping out of his
nose as he tried to breathe. Half choking he managed to croak out a
reply.

'If that's fun for you, I would hate
to see what your idea of a holiday is. Now shut up and get some
sleep, you'll need it for when we get the hell out of here.'

Andrey looked quizzical as Baker glanced at his watch,
the sudden rapid beeping drawing glances from all in the room.

'Pack up, load up and get ready gentlemen; we are
officially into overtime. The extraction team should be arriving any
minute now.'

Patting Gervasii on the shoulder he
walked away, his foot falls echoing slightly in the bare concrete
room. Gervasii smiled as Baker sat down next to the Doctor content in
the knowledge that he had in some small way made penance with the
souls of his brothers.

A bubble of chattering voices rose behind him as Anna
went over the layout of the facility with Fadei and the others.

****

The rotor blades cut the air to ribbons as the
helicopter beat its path forwards. Carl sat in the open doorway, his
wind torn clothes ruffling harshly in the frigid air. He lifted his
gloved hand and twirled it through the air as the twin rotor air
frame settled into a snow blitzed hover. Dumping the coiled rope in
his lap out the door, Carl spun, his gloved hands rasping over the
coiled fibres as they burned a path to the ground.

His boots skimmed the snow crusted soil, a half second
before his hands released the rope. Within three, he was twenty feet
away on one knee his rifle pulled tightly to his shoulder as he
scanned the area around him. Heckleworth and Billings appeared mere
moments later at his two o’clock and ten o’clock
positions. Eight seconds after his feet had hit the floor the
remaining five members of his team were hunkered down facing all
points of the compass.

Tapping his fingers against the call button on his
throat mike, Carl rose to his feet and peeled away, only the soft
crunching of crystalline snow gave any indication that the others had
even moved.

Heckleworth waved his hand over the back of his head and
glanced up watching as the load master ejected the rope and slid the
bay side door closed.

'All clear, whirly bird's on station, moving off to
standby location. That would leave us a three minute window from call
to pick up.'

Carl nodded mutely as he set his auto pick into the door
lock and squeezed the pump trigger rapidly, a harsh crunch of metal
slithered out of the lock. Smiling he pulled the steel rod from the
lock and slipped it back into the utility pouch on his thigh.

'Right in fast and get those fucker's out.'

Grasping the handle he watched from the corners of his
eyes as the rest of the team stacked up either side of the door. With
a silent prayer to whomever was listening, he did what every point
man since the dawn of modern warfare dreaded, and opened the door.

11

London, Gatwick,
United Kingdom, 2005

Derek sat staring out the window of the British Airways
long haul flight as it soared over the Atlantic toward the British
Isles. He rested his chin on his hand, his eyes stung as he stared
through the Perspex window. He hadn't slept the entire flight, his
eyes were sore to the point of bleeding, or at least his sleep
deprived mind told him they were. He gazed through the plastic window
as the bloodshot red orbs stared back at him.

From the dull reflection, he could see the thin lines
marking them out to be as raw and tired as he thought they were.
Blinking he grimaced at the sandpaper like texture of his dried out
eyelids scraping over the translucent balls of his eyes.

Sighing he turned and watched as the Irish coast
disappeared under the plane's wing. In his life, he had let too much
slip away because of his career and he was damned if he was going to
let the one thing that made living his priority, dance from his
reach. He sat there staring, his mind tumbling through the vacuous
vortex that had formed inside his skull. He smiled thoughts of her,
the one person who had made resisting despair and failure his driving
force. He knew she had been the only thing that had kept him alive,
even when he had felt the cold kiss of Death's scythe only
millimetres from his neck.

Landing at Gatwick, he made his way through security to
the luggage claim and soon, much to his amazement found himself,
standing on the forecourt waiting to be picked up before he really
registered fully what he was doing. Flipping open his outdated
mobile, he tried to call her as a sense of trepidation and excitement
roiled within him. It was soon quashed when all he got was a monotone
beep and nothing more. Cursing himself for not re-registering for UK
calling he walked to the payphones outside of the terminal building
and punched in her number from memory.

He listened as the phone rang and rang. A deep
foreboding welled up inside him, only to be viciously stomped and
crushed back down to where it belonged. Finally after what seemed
like a lifetime he heard her pick up.

`Hello, this is Janet Williams who's this?' Her soft,
sleep drenched voice washed his mind clean, any thoughts of
structured conversation falling into the chasm of dead space that
currently passed itself off as his brain. He stood there silent for a
few seconds his mind whirling.

'Uh, hi Janet it's uh me, Derek.'

Mentally he kicked himself, grimacing at the limp and
lacklustre reply his mind had conjured up. His smile grew into a grin
as he imagined her lying in bed, her hair flowing across the satin
sheets he knew she would have as she held the phone in her slim
grasp, the speaker pressed to her ear.

His mind drew him deeper as his vision danced across the
soft curves of her cheek and chin to rest upon the pale pink lips he
so longed to caress with his own. He suppressed a chuckle as he
envisioned Janet's wide eyed look of surprise. 'Hi baby, how are you
doing, what made you decide to call? Beside what time is it, its got
to be at least three in the morning there.'

Derek grinned to himself as he listened to her
spiralling tumult of words and the scrape of her alarm clock being
lifted from its spot on her bedside cabinet. He didn't say a word as
he let it all slip past him, waiting patiently for the torrent of
questions to stop before replying.

Derek glanced at his watch. 'No, its a little after
nine, babe. I'm good; tired but good.'

He could almost hear Janet's eyes narrow in suspicion as
she spoke, 'Where are you, Derek?'

'Gatwick,' he replied with a casual simplicity,
suppressing a creeping shadow of a smile as he spoke. He dragged the
phone away from his head as a wave of girlish squeals and
exclamations assaulted his ear, he listened as she picked the phone
back up and spoke, her voice fluttering as she fought to control her
breathing.

'Give me two hours and I'll be there, don't move. No,
wait; go to the Irish pub on the far side of the passenger waiting
area and wait for me there.' In another burst of giggles she hung up,
leaving a confused but grinning Derek standing there with the now
dead phone receiver in his hand.

Latching the receiver back onto the cradle, he picked up
his old drum bag and walked back into the terminal building towards
the pub.

Janet pulled up outside the terminal,
hopped out of her Ford K
A
and
practically floated through the terminal to where Derek waited, she
walked into the bar area and as quietly as she could made her way up
behind him. Just as her arms came level to his neck he spun on the
stool and dragged her into his arms, his muscular, trunk like arms
encircled her waist as he pulled her into a overtly passionate kiss.

Janet all but forced her way out of his grasp, a shy
grin on her face as she tried to hide the tears in her eyes. 'What
happened soldier, miss me, I thought big tough Marines like you
didn't miss any one, except the target any way.' The quivering in her
voice was hard to miss despite how hard she fought to keep it steady.

Derek grinned at her, clasping her round the hips and
pulling her close to him again. 'God I missed you.' He buried his
face in her hair as he felt her chest heave against him, the hot
trail of warmth rolling its way down his neck as she finally lost the
battle against the need to cry.

Derek stroked his finger through her hair as he gently
levered her away from him. 'I ain't a Marine anymore.' A glimmer of
sadness echoed behind his eyes as he spoke those six short words.

'It was the only way they would let me over here.' He
subconsciously winced as he actively lied to the woman he loved,
burying the guilt deep in his gut he ploughed onwards with the
half-truth that he was weaving. Closing his eyes he suppressed the
desire to spill out the truth, he knew it would tumble out
eventually, but for now he had to keep up the charade.

'It was you or the service, they gave me a choice, early
discharge with no chance of re-enlistment or redeployment to a zone
of their choosing. Guess which I chose?'

Janet shook her head, twin trails running down her face
as she cupped his with her hands, her thumbs gently stroking down his
cheeks.

'Idiot,
all you had to do was ask and I would have transferred to you. Why
did you give up all that for me?'

Derek's face split into a childish grin as he stared
down at the woman resting against his chest, her arms snaking round
his waist. 'Why else, I am a hopeless romantic, and well I......'

He trailed off, not knowing whether or not to go through
with what he was about to say. Janet looked up at him curiously,
'what?' she questioned as she ran her hand down his cheek and across
his chin, latching hold of it bringing his face to the same level as
hers, 'what is it?'

'I well, I guess I.'

He never got a chance to finish his sentence as the
whole airport erupted into terror filled screams of pain. Derek
stared as Janet was ripped from his grasp, a dead weight slammed into
his unprepared side driving all the air from his lungs as he was
barrelled over sideways; turning sharply he gazed up into a
slathering blood drenched maw as it descended, the jaws opened and
closed rapidly snapping at his face.

The stench of death and blood filled Derek's nostrils as
he fought against the thing above him; images dancing through his
head. Dark dripping corridors filled with death, the smell of warm
blood slopping around his boots and above all the memory of that ever
present, soul chilling moan.

He was snapped from his reverie by the wailing scream of
a woman in the steel like grip of sheer terror, driving his fist up
into its wind pipe Derek was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as the
cartilage collapsed under the impact, but this did little to stop the
thing above him as it tried to tear out his throat.

Snapping both hands up, he grasped either side of its
head and with a vicious twist snapped its neck. Pushing the limp lump
of flesh off him he threw the body aside and clambered to his feet.

He looked down at the corpse on the floor, pieces of
flesh were torn away hanging in limp flapping lumps from it's body,
moving up he attempted to ascertain an I.D. of the person, his hands
moving of their own volition as he patted down the cold lump of
mangled flesh. All thoughts of curiosity were driven from his mind as
he heard her wailing screams of anguish, leaping to his feet Derek
threw himself bodily through the air slamming into the Infected
pinning Janet to the floor.

Landing in a tangle of limbs, grabbing the Infected by
the head he twisted and yanked. The vomit inducing crunch of
shattering cartilage did nothing more than satisfy him that for now
it was indeed out of the game, Derek twisted further almost ripping
it's head off in his haste to get back to the woman he loved.

He stumbled towards Janet's unmoving form, fear and
terror coursed through him in equal measure as he dropped to his
knees and lifted her into his arms. 'Janet, baby, you're okay, you're
going to be okay, dammit girl what the fucks going on. Please be
okay, you got to.' He smoothed out the tangled hair slowly congealing
from the blood staining his hands. With softness not often shown
Derek, brushed the stray locks from her face as he cradled the limp
form of his lover and best friend against him. He sat there for
several minutes rocking back and forth holding her in his arms, her
heart softly thumping against him as he held her tightly to his
shaking form.