Dislike was the best way to describe our feelings towards each other, but ever the professional Alexander put them aside. I could and have said many things about him. I have never questioned his competence.
“Let’s move to your decontamination and then unit for the debrief, John.”
We head towards a temporary tented area in front of one of the parked lorries that make up the base camp. This lorry was the one assigned to me. The tent was for mission decontamination of me and my gear.
I entered the tent and began to strip my gear. To my left and right, members of the base camp had set up storage bins. To the right for my gear and left for the rest of my clothes. As the only team member to see action, I was the only one entering.
Once I was naked with my gear stored away, I moved into the shower area. Being sprayed with hot chemical-filled water was never fun. The chemical smell was almost as unpleasant as the gore from the zombies. The gore I was covered in has been found not to have airborne pathogens but plenty of ones that can lead to nasty infections if allowed to get into the body.
When finished, I dried off and put on the tracksuit and trainers supplied. Leaving the tent, Alexander was waiting and headed to the trailer.
The back trailer had been converted into a combined armoury and medical centre. They were a significant step up from a tent. This unit was with me every time I was in the field. I have been using it or ones like it for the last year.
We entered the back using a side door up a step ladder.
Dr Helena, one of the base team’s medical doctors, was waiting for me for the standard medical, which would be listed in my file and after-action report.
“Hey doc, let me finish the clean-up, then we will get it done.”
“No problem, John.” The look on her face told me her thoughts on my present condition and smell. The chemicals are powerful, as I said.
Shaking my head in amusement, I head to the armoury and shower section in the back. I decide not to shower but try to wash as much of the chemicals off my face and hands. I quickly change again into my regular clothes and head back.
“All right, let’s start the de-brief of the mission.” Alexander began setting up a camera to record my report.
I sat in one of the chairs and Dr Helena began her work. I look toward the two people in the trailer with me, standard fare.
Alexander was different from the typical mid-range civil servant. Standing 6 foot, tanned and physically fit. He was in his mid-forties, black-haired with green eyes and according to my mother, rather good-looking.
Dr Elan Helena was a visible difference. She was standing 5’2, also in her mid-forties, with an evident Mediterranean heritage with black curly hair, dark brown eyes and a curvy figure topped off with a pleasant face.
The fold-away metal chairs are really uncomfortable to sit in. Alexander is sitting across from me at a table with a camera recording everything that will happen, set up and ready. This, too, will be analysed later and was part of the after-action report.
“Debrief of operation ZCA-0056. The date is the 3rd of June 2036, and the time is 14:34 hrs. Alexander Harley-Grenville, Doctor Elan Helena and Zone Operative John Harrington present.”
That is what they call the few of us that they send into the breach zones now “Zone Operatives”. Better than cannon fodder, I suppose. Bitterness wells within me, and anger simmers. The others do not seem to notice my slight mood change or choose to care. I push down on my resentment. Not the time.
The good Doctor began the first stage physical part of the debrief as Alexander recorded it. She attaches sensors to my head and neck. She takes my vitals, listing them and working through a basic physical.
“Base scans look good regular heart rate and breathing.” She begins.
“Any injuries?”
“No.”
“Any lingering effects from the Zone interaction.”
“Grave Chill”
She nods at this and makes a note and pad that she was carrying that she is recording my results. Grave chill is the name we gave to the effect of fighting undead monsters. Scientists have their own long and complex names but use our terminology in the field.
“How bad do you think it is.” She looks directly at me, saying this.
“Bad but not the worst I have had.”
She notes my response on her tablet and looks at Alexander.
“John’s first stage assessment is good, but he will need a full physical scan.” These tests were extensive and often intrusive. She moves to sit next to Alexander.
“Thank you, Doctor. Let’s start with the mission’s events. At 07:00hrs, the briefing of the mission was held. The operation began at 07:45hrs. Operative John Harrington was the lead in clearing the zone. Can you take us through what happened then?”
Party time for me, then.
“I entered the Zone through the main gate identified as point Alpha and then…….”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
I walked them through the events in the graveyard. By now, these debriefings had become routine. The details were always different, but the main points were the same. Entered here, hid and moved around a lot, then killed these many targets. These effects were noticed etc. However, the ending for this mission was different from the norm as of late.
“The support team joined me at point Bravo the breach and deployed the Breach Closer to seal the Void Breach.”
At this, Alexander perked up. As far as I know, this was only the second Void breach to be sealed in the UK.
“So, you witnessed the breach being sealed.”
“Yes, I watched as much as possible while scanning the area for any missed threats.” Over the last few years, I had picked up a lot of how they wanted me to talk in reports and debriefs. All very correct and proper.
“Can you describe it?”
I think about that question. I tried to communicate to them what I saw.
“Once it started, the shimmer effect around the breach became much more evident. This was there until the breach was sealed. The breach crack shrunk slowly, and when it disappeared, there was a pop like when you pass through a pressure change in your ear.”
Alexander nodded at all this as I attempted to explain what had happened.
“So, there was no attempt to stop the breach sealing.”
“No, the earlier cullings had ensured the zombie’s numbers were low.”
Alexander frowns at the name “zombie”, as His Majesty’s Government classes them as a Grave type 2 humanoid threat. But everyone else calls them zombie’s because that’s what they are. Grave, as the name implies, covers the undead-type monsters. Skeletons are type 1 threats. Other monsters were classed by the areas in which the void breaches appear. Other zones had different kinds and were organised accordingly.
“Unless there’s anything to add, this will mark the end of the debriefing of Zone Operative John Harrington on operation ZCA-0056.” Dr Helena shakes her head, indicating she is done. The recording ended.
“All right, John, we’re done here. Your transport is ready outside the camp.”
“Please make yourself available for your next full physical.” Dr Helens added.
“No problem, Doctor.” I replied to her as I got up to leave.
The air outside the trailer was a welcome change. The fog from the breach was gone as the graveyard that held it was visible on this summer day. Looking around, I spotted the man I needed.
“Hey, Sergeant Gregson is done. Time for me to go.” I say to Elana as a goodbye through the doorway.
Sergeant Gregson was a man in his late thirties, just short of 6 feet and physically fit. He had a deep voice with a soft Liverpool accent. He also had that mess with me, and I will break you in half vibe. He got respect from me.
I don’t know if he is military or police, and I have never asked. If I had to put money on it, I would bet military. Definitely military.
“Right this way, John. The car is over here.” He nods in the direction of several vehicles on the edge of the camp.
“Right on, lead the way.”
We head out to the vehicles, and Sergeant Gregson stops at a government issue Land Rover.
He uses an electronic key to unlock the doors. He gets into the driver’s seat, and I go shotgun. He quickly gets the engine started and we leave the site heading for the motorway leading us to an airfield. The electric motor makes almost no noise as we travel.
The radio is on during the trip and the noise is a welcome distraction to the Grave Chill effects. Gregson is aware of my silence and knows I get like this after a job. Facing death can leave one introspective. I am sitting with my eyes closed, processing what had happened.
“Heard it went well.” He began.
“Yea, breach sealed, one down, god knows how many more to go.” The depression effects get to me sooner or later.
He grunts at this. We both know it’s the truth.
“Many threats?”
“Six zombies. Culling been keeping the numbers down; don’t want another Portland do we.”
Six years ago, the Void breaches appeared after the supercollider accident that had created them in the Alps. The city’s centre and some of the suburbs were overrun with zombies, skeletons and other things. The city of Portland, Oregon, good old US of A, had a breach form within the city limits. The local government had not sealed the area around it off fast enough. Federal pressure did. The locals dragged their feet even as it was identified as one of the largest so far recorded. It was one of the targets nearly four years after the military operation. The city is now completely sealed off after the US military’s disastrous attempt to retake it two years ago.
Gregson had no honest reply, so we continued the drive to the airfield in silence.
The drive took little time as we pulled off the motorway to a road that led to a small local airfield.
Gregson dealt with the entry and drove to a car park. We got out and headed into the terminal. Another Government agent met us and took the keys from Gregson. They spoke for a few minutes and he came over to me.
“The helicopter is spinning up and will take off in a few minutes. They are waiting for us.”
I nod and he leads the way to where the helicopter will take me home. We operatives are essential, a vital resource that the Government has been forced to recognise. So, to keep us happy and help with our recovery in the downtime, we have privileges.
We boarded the helicopter as the rotors began to spin up and were secured by one of the crew. We take off with a lurch which my stomach does not greatly appreciate and head north. The flight took nearly three hours and we arrived at a military base on the northeast Scottish coast in a town called Arbroath.
The base we landed in is next to the town I live in. Gregson and I get out of the helicopter. We get into another car and Gregson drives me to my door.
“Thanks, Sergeant Gregson. See you next time.” I say to him as I get out of the car.
“No problem, John and thanks for your work.”
I look at him before closing the door. I nod to his thanks and close the door. I turn away, pulling out my keys to enter my house. Time to find some food. I am starving!
## ## ## ##
Sergeant Gregson watched John walk away from the car and approach the first house in the close. He let out a breath to help reduce his stress level. He rolled his shoulders to help with the weight of his underarm gun holster.
Today was a relatively good day as the mission was a success, and the breach was closed. But his mind went back to the briefing that he and most of the other operative minders attended about if the danger of corruption became an issue. The words of the briefer came back to him.
The government’s stance did not sit well with most of the minders until they were shown what could happen if they failed in their duty. The cost of inaction was too terrible to consider. But so were the orders.
“If the Zone Operative has become corrupted to the point of non-recovery upon final confirmation, eliminate them.”