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of
action he should follow.  When the PM went to his office to read through
another pile of depressing reports, I took Breck to one side and told him to
make sure three helicopters were on standby for evacuation.  I wanted them to
be able to be at our location with half an hour.  Someone had to be thinking
straight in those desperate hours.
     
    Kim Taylor
    17:00 hours, Friday 15 th May, Buckingham
Palace, London
           When Ellie and I got through the side gate and
into the grounds of Buckingham Palace it felt like we had been saved.  There
were about fifty of us altogether.  I don’t know why we were selected.  Chosen
by God was one ranting woman’s explanation.  I’m not sure about that.  I wasn’t
sure about God any more.  Why would he have done something like that to us?
           Ellie was in better shape, now that we were
able to sit down.  One of the soldiers had a look at her ankle.  It wasn’t as
bad as we had feared.  A couple of days rest would see it back to normal.  The
only thing was, I wasn’t sure if we would get another two days, or even another
two hours.  By the time we had come back out of the sick bay there was a
distinct change in the mood outside the gates. 
           Panic had really set in.  Some tried to climb
over and were beaten back by the soldiers who had formed a perimeter inside the
fences.  One man, a young officer who seemed to be in charge, took a megaphone
and addressed the crowd, telling them that they would not be allowed access to
the grounds of the palace under any circumstances.  Any attempts to gain access
would be met with deadly force.
           It didn’t stop them.  Whatever was behind them,
pressing in on the desperate crowds, was far more frightening than the threat
of a bullet.  People began to climb once again, as shouts from behind them
turned to screams.  The officer drew his pistol and pointed it at the first
man.  He ordered him to get off the railings.  The man took no heed and the
officer fired once, hitting the man in the shoulder and knocking him back onto
the ground.  People screamed and ducked for cover, fearing more shots.  And
behind them the carnage continued unabated.
           I couldn’t stand to watch it any longer and
walked back towards the rear of the palace.  This, I discovered, was where the
queen’s apartments were located.  There was a line of soldiers preventing
anyone from going any further, so we sat down on a patch of grass and had a
long drink of water from a bottle which had been given to us in the sick bay.
           There was nothing else we could do.  Going
outside again was no longer an option.  We seemed to be safe for the time
being, behind the high fences and walls, and from the increasing noise outside
it was clear that things were not going well.
     
    Callum MacPherson
    17:10 hours, Friday 15 th May, Buckingham
Palace, London
           After that first man was shot by the Lieutenant
it soon dawned on the crowd that we meant business.  They began to scatter,
dispersing to either side of the front gates.  If only they had gone sooner,
many might have lived.  As it was, the ones who had been turned by the virus
and who were pressing them from behind, were joined by a huge horde from Green
Park and another that came marching down from the direction of Victoria Station,
like some ghoulish army from hell.
           We shouted to people to run but there was
nowhere to go.  Another army of those freaks came from St James’s Park, cutting
off their last chance of escape.  And that was that.  I looked to the
Lieutenant for direction.  He was still young and was absolutely frozen with
fear.  That he now found himself in charge of the garrison was a cruel twist of
fate. 
           ‘Sir,’ I shouted.  ‘We have to let those people
come over the gates.  They’ll be slaughtered out there.’
           He didn’t move or speak.  He just kept staring
at the