have reports on last known locations and the like?"
"Yeah no problem,"
"Okay, good. Susan, you have international contacts. Liaise with them and gather what intel you can. We need to find out where these people are and how they are communicating. I want emails and phone calls monitored. Treat this as high priority. We also need to make contact with local governments in affected areas and make sure they are on high alert. We can’t have this getting out into the media, so be sparing with the information. If you encounter any resistance, come straight to me."
Josh and Susan nodded agreement.
"What about the alert level?" Mike asked, wringing his hands.
"Leave it where it is for now. With luck, we can contain this without causing panic. Our top priority is finding Richard Draven and bringing him in." He turned to Genaro. "These lootings you mentioned. Do we have any recent intel as far as sightings of these Apex soldiers may be when they were last spotted?"
"We had a sighting two days ago in London, although it's unconfirmed."
"It’s good enough. I’ll need to speak to the British prime minister, see if we can mobilise a team over there to search the area."
"I can probably get that done for you," Genaro said. "The Prime Minister and I went to Cambridge together. We're old friends. I can have a word in his ear and get the SAS involved. They are the best of the best."
"Fine, let’s make a move on this now. We need to deal with this before it gets out of hand."
CHAPTER FIVE
RAF SPADERDAM
CUMBRIA,
UNITED KINGDOM.
THE RECREATIONAL ROOM was warm, a blessed relief from the near-zero temperatures outside. Stanhope burst through the door, his cheeks spotted pink from the cold.
"Fuckin ell' Stanny, shut the bloody door," barked Parker, his south London accent heavy with annoyance as he glanced up from the chessboard.
"Gimme a chance ya tosser," Stanhope responded as he kicked the door closed behind him. He crossed to the kitchen, switching on the kettle and dropping a tea bag into a cup with hands he could barely feel anymore.
"Cold?" Briggs said with a grin.
Stanhope gave Brigs the middle finger with his free hand. "Fuckin' freezin' out there mate," he said as he stirred his tea and sat beside Trig, who was busying himself with leering over the naked girl on page three of The Sun newspaper.
Without looking up from the silicon enhanced flesh on the page, Trig responded. "Tell me about it, dunno who we pissed off to get shipped all the way out here to the middle of nowhere. It was minus five earlier. Minus fucking five."
Stanhope pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes taking one himself, and offering the pack to Trig, who took one, popping it in his mouth. "Cheers mate."
Trig, known more formally as Jason Trigon, had just turned twenty and was the rookie of the group. His blue eyes stared out from beneath a permanently furrowed brow as he lit his cigarette, inhaling deeply. "Any action out there, Stanny?"
Stanhope shook his head, sipping his coffee. "Nah mate, not a thing. Patrol is a waste of fuckin' time if you ask me. What time are you due out there?"
Trig put his paper down on his lap, taking another deep draught of his cigarette. "I'm up next mate, three till five in the fucking mornin’. Ungodly to be outside in this sort of cold."
Stanhope nodded, lowering his voice. "I’ve half a mind to come back out with ya mate, these wankers in here are starting to drive me mad, especially Parker."
Both glanced towards Parker, obliviously playing chess in the corner, his scrub of facial hair making him look dirty.
"Look at him," Stanhope grunted. "Calls himself a soldier, the scruffy bastard."
Trig snorted a laugh as the two friends shared a grin. "Must be bad mate if you'd rather walk the perimeter with me in this cold than stay here."
Stanhope grinned and shouted across the room. "Oi, Parker, you ever heard of a razor ya scruffy cunt?"
"Get fucked Stanhope ya wanker." Parker fired
"Yeah no problem,"
"Okay, good. Susan, you have international contacts. Liaise with them and gather what intel you can. We need to find out where these people are and how they are communicating. I want emails and phone calls monitored. Treat this as high priority. We also need to make contact with local governments in affected areas and make sure they are on high alert. We can’t have this getting out into the media, so be sparing with the information. If you encounter any resistance, come straight to me."
Josh and Susan nodded agreement.
"What about the alert level?" Mike asked, wringing his hands.
"Leave it where it is for now. With luck, we can contain this without causing panic. Our top priority is finding Richard Draven and bringing him in." He turned to Genaro. "These lootings you mentioned. Do we have any recent intel as far as sightings of these Apex soldiers may be when they were last spotted?"
"We had a sighting two days ago in London, although it's unconfirmed."
"It’s good enough. I’ll need to speak to the British prime minister, see if we can mobilise a team over there to search the area."
"I can probably get that done for you," Genaro said. "The Prime Minister and I went to Cambridge together. We're old friends. I can have a word in his ear and get the SAS involved. They are the best of the best."
"Fine, let’s make a move on this now. We need to deal with this before it gets out of hand."
CHAPTER FIVE
RAF SPADERDAM
CUMBRIA,
UNITED KINGDOM.
THE RECREATIONAL ROOM was warm, a blessed relief from the near-zero temperatures outside. Stanhope burst through the door, his cheeks spotted pink from the cold.
"Fuckin ell' Stanny, shut the bloody door," barked Parker, his south London accent heavy with annoyance as he glanced up from the chessboard.
"Gimme a chance ya tosser," Stanhope responded as he kicked the door closed behind him. He crossed to the kitchen, switching on the kettle and dropping a tea bag into a cup with hands he could barely feel anymore.
"Cold?" Briggs said with a grin.
Stanhope gave Brigs the middle finger with his free hand. "Fuckin' freezin' out there mate," he said as he stirred his tea and sat beside Trig, who was busying himself with leering over the naked girl on page three of The Sun newspaper.
Without looking up from the silicon enhanced flesh on the page, Trig responded. "Tell me about it, dunno who we pissed off to get shipped all the way out here to the middle of nowhere. It was minus five earlier. Minus fucking five."
Stanhope pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes taking one himself, and offering the pack to Trig, who took one, popping it in his mouth. "Cheers mate."
Trig, known more formally as Jason Trigon, had just turned twenty and was the rookie of the group. His blue eyes stared out from beneath a permanently furrowed brow as he lit his cigarette, inhaling deeply. "Any action out there, Stanny?"
Stanhope shook his head, sipping his coffee. "Nah mate, not a thing. Patrol is a waste of fuckin' time if you ask me. What time are you due out there?"
Trig put his paper down on his lap, taking another deep draught of his cigarette. "I'm up next mate, three till five in the fucking mornin’. Ungodly to be outside in this sort of cold."
Stanhope nodded, lowering his voice. "I’ve half a mind to come back out with ya mate, these wankers in here are starting to drive me mad, especially Parker."
Both glanced towards Parker, obliviously playing chess in the corner, his scrub of facial hair making him look dirty.
"Look at him," Stanhope grunted. "Calls himself a soldier, the scruffy bastard."
Trig snorted a laugh as the two friends shared a grin. "Must be bad mate if you'd rather walk the perimeter with me in this cold than stay here."
Stanhope grinned and shouted across the room. "Oi, Parker, you ever heard of a razor ya scruffy cunt?"
"Get fucked Stanhope ya wanker." Parker fired
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