The Z Directive (Book 1): Extraction Point Page 2

  “I’m still not really clear on why you need me.”

  “Because these things - these zombies, whatever you want to call them - are attracted by sound and smell. A large presence will pull them in like a magnet, so we need a small, surgical team to get through with as little fuss as possible so we can get that Doctor to safety. You’ve done that before.”

  “So have a lot of others.”

  “Damn it, Jack, do you want me to beg, is that it? Do you want me to apologize and prostrate myself before you? Well too fucking bad! I did what I thought was right and I’d do it again. I’m here asking you for help because I think you’re a good enough man to put the past aside and help people who need your set of skills. Am I wrong?”

  Jack took a deep breath, thinking carefully for a moment before answering.

  “You’re not wrong.”

  “Good.”

  “But if you screw me over again—”

  “We understand each other, Jack.” Maxwell assured him. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in.” He added as he stood, heading briskly towards the door. Jack took a look around his home, wondering when he’d be back, then stood and followed his former commander.

  Chapter Two

  Jack boarded the helicopter with Maxwell and the three soldiers who had accompanied him. The trio eyed Jack suspiciously, especially when they saw he was bringing his own weapons, but Maxwell instructed them to stand down. Once the helicopter was lifting off, the trio took off their helmets and Jack got a look at them and was introduced.

  “Jack, this is Sergeant Oliver Cross.” Maxwell announced, gesturing to the middle of the trio. “He’ll be accompanying you on the mission. He’s formerly British Special Forces, reassigned to work with us for a little op we were running. Before that he was on loan—”

  “I don’t really care about his past history.” Jack interrupted curtly.

  “Jack Ramsay. I’ve heard the stories.” Cross greeted, though from his demeanor it was clear he still wasn’t entirely at ease in Jack’s presence. “Kinda surprised to find you living out in the woods like this. Not sure I could manage without some creature comforts.”

  “I had everything I needed. Town’s not far, there’s a river for bathing and I dug my own well.” Jack told him, observing Cross was bald, dark eyed and generally dark featured.

  “And you shit in the woods?” The younger man on the left questioned. He had a strong New York accent, a buzz cut to his copper hair and the cock-sure attitude that came with youth. Probably not out of his twenties, Jack thought, and had probably seen some combat - just enough to make him think it made him an expert. Jack hoped he was right, for his own sake. If things were as bad as they seemed, they couldn’t afford to carry anyone.

  “Shut up, Bridges.” Cross snapped at him.

  “Corporal Rodney Bridges. He was touring in Faradanistan at the same time you were. He’s good with mechanical things.” Maxwell explained.

  “Amongst many other talents.” Bridges added with a smug smile. Jack ignored the comment and glanced at the man on the right. He had slightly longer hair than the others and was heavily tanned.

  “Sergeant Jose Rodriguez. Best marksman I’ve ever worked with.” Cross announced. “He doesn’t talk much.”

  Rodriguez bowed his head in a polite way, a gesture that Jack returned before looking back to Maxwell.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Fort Elridge, Illinois. It’s our main base of operations in the area as well as a refugee centre. We’re evacuating people there then shipping them out to less affected regions or onto ships.” Maxwell explained.

  “Travel time to Dewbury from there?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  “I won’t get too comfortable then.” Jack said, reclining a little in his seat. “Is there anyone else you’re putting on this?”

  “Captain Elizabeth Hall; she’ll be providing technical and logistical support off-site. You’ll get a minute to meet her when we touch down.” Maxwell explained.

  Settling in, Jack rode the rest of the way in silence. It was strange how quickly he was falling back into line. Before he’d been left out to dry by Maxwell, Jack had worked for him and the Coalition; it was something of a melting pot of international special forces units, intelligence agencies and private ‘assets’. What they did was highly classified and, in some cases, never recorded at all. It was a given that if they were caught they’d be disavowed and left to deal with it - which was part of the reason Jack’s employment with them had come to an end. During his years of service, which ended with him holding the rank of Major, the thing that mattered most to Jack was that it was an organization promoting working together towards common goals, with members from the United States all the way to Russia. Whenever a dangerous threat emerged that needed to be stopped quietly, the Coalition was notified and they took care of it. From espionage to surgical strikes, they’d been working to create a safer world for decades. It was all history now; recent history, but in the past nonetheless. Glancing out of the window, he couldn’t see anything that might indicate that the world had gone to hell in a hand-basket. The truth was it just looked like any other early evening; it made him wonder if this was the calm before the storm.

  After about thirty minutes they were nearing Fort Elridge and the scene outside changed drastically. There was more activity below them than at any military base Jack had been to before: planes preparing for takeoff, helicopters coming and going and a steady stream of movement of ground personnel. Closer, Jack could see the stream also contained masses of civilians, clearly identifiable from their dress and the way they huddled together fearfully.

  “You believe me now, Jack?” Maxwell questioned.

  “If I didn’t believe you before I wouldn’t have come.” Jack informed him, though seeing the view below really did crystallize what was happening to the world. Fort Elridge, he could see, had a few large barracks, an old, fortified bunker - that was likely the armory - and a much larger central building which was undoubtedly the command centre. There was also a city of sorts made up of tents, which had been set up behind the command centre; likely to house the continual stream of incoming refugees while they worked to get them away to a place of safety. Around the perimeter were tanks, armored vehicles and sandbag walls, currently manned by ground forces. Behind them a chain link fence ran around the perimeter of the facility, heavily guarded by more soldiers. It seemed they were taking the security of the facility seriously, but if what Maxwell had said about the number of infected was true, Jack wondered if, even with all the defenders below, they had enough ammunition to hold back the thousands strong horde if they chose to surge towards the base.

  After a few moments in a holding pattern, the helicopter began to descend before clunking down onto a cleared space marked by chemical light sticks. Cross and the others moved to the door, opened it and hopped down, followed by Jack and Maxwell.

  “Bridges, get Ramsay some gear and bring it back to the helo.” Cross instructed.

  “What am I, the personal shopper of the group?” Bridges questioned sarcastically as he started to walk away in the direction of the armory.

  “You’re whatever the hell I decide!” Cross yelled after him severely. Bridges shrugged the comment off and hurried away, disappearing into the crowd a few moments later. Rodriguez stayed with the helicopter, sitting on the edge with his hands on his lap.

  “Come on, Jack, we’ll give you a full briefing while the helicopter is being refueled, then we need you in the air.” Maxwell announced. Jack nodded and fell in behind Maxwell as he led the way to the command centre, Cross bringing up the rear.

  “What kind of authority does the Coalition have here?”

  “Our involvement has been codenamed: ‘The Z Directive’. We’re supplementing military assets in the field; we don’t have direct control over any units other than our own. You might see some familiar faces here, Jack, from your days in the service.”


  “Right.” Jack responded, almost hoping he didn’t run into any old acquaintances.

  It took a little while, even though there were clear lines organized to give military personnel an avenue to move through - with the civilians in a separate line being funneled either to transport or towards the temporary housing area behind the command centre that Jack had seen on his way in. The looks on those people’s faces, however, was truly haunting. Jack had seen a lot of human misery in his years as a soldier; it was something that was a tragic constant in warzones. Some held their phones outwards from their chests, pictures of people who were presumably missing loved ones shining out from the screens. There was a forlorn expression on their faces; a deep rooted sadness that was tempered only by the faintest of hopes that the people they cared about hadn’t met the same, terrible end they’d seen others succumb to. Seeing someone you cared for killed was a terrible thing, Jack knew, but seeing them torn apart and devoured by walking corpses... Who could prepare for that?

  Jack forced himself to look away and focused on the advance towards the command centre. It was built of red brick, vaguely rectangular, with windows restricted to the central unit only on the first floor, while the second had windows along the entire facade. Antennas, satellite dishes and other components which would facilitate communication and connection to the wider military network festooned the top of the flat roof, and even here sentries were posted to keep watch over the landscape beyond the perimeter fence. The double doors were guarded by a pair of soldiers who seemed to recognize Maxwell on sight; they saluted him and Maxwell returned it, freeing them to lean over and open the doors as soon as the trio neared, swinging them inward and revealing the grey stone floor of the lobby area. A pair of side corridors led off to the left and right, while in the far corners of the room stairs led up to the second floor. On the left and right sides of the upper floor was a walkway, each with corridors leading off them. In the far wall, directly across from the door, was the closed metal door of an elevator, which was also guarded by a pair of soldiers. Sounds of activity echoed around the building, some clearly the heavy footfalls of booted soldiers while others, more hurried but lighter in step, were undoubtedly support personnel. Jack imagined the mess hall and medical centers were working in overdrive in an effort to tend to any wounded civilians as well as feed the hungry, frightened masses. Jack certainly didn’t envy the work they had to do.

  Maxwell went straight for the elevator, the soldiers saluting before one turned to press the call button as he approached. Once on board, Maxwell swiped a security card through a key card reader beside the floor panel, then pressed the button marked ‘B1’. The elevator rumbled down for a few moments and when the doors opened, Jack saw a short corridor that terminated at a walkway overlooking a large room; the glow of huge wall mounted monitors on the opposite wall strong even without getting closer. Maxwell led the way down the corridor and onto the walkway that was above the lower section of the room, allowing Jack to see the space in full. There were two rows of computer stations on the lower floor facing the array of wall monitors ahead of them, all of which were manned. To the left and right on the upper floor, accessed via the walkway, was a large, glass room. One appeared to be a conference room, the other a supervisor’s office that was currently unoccupied, though Jack imagined Maxwell had taken up a position there owing to the excellent visibility of the floor below it would afford. Coming up the short metal staircase that connected the walkway to the bullpen below was an attractive woman with short, dark hair. She was wearing blue and grey fatigues, had a headset on and was carrying a tablet computer in her left hand.

  “Sir, we’ve established contact with Doctor Reed again.” She announced with a definite southern accent. Her grey eyes flicked over Jack, observing he was there and seemingly knowing who he was, though she didn’t seem all that interested in him at that moment.

  “What’s her status?”

  “The infected are pressing on all sides and they’ve been forced to abandon the second floor.”

  “Damn it.” Maxwell said, shaking his head. “Put her through to the conference room, we’ll brief Jack and get her full report at the same time, Elizabeth.”

  “Understood.” She answered, glancing again at Jack before turning on the heels of her boots and advancing towards the conference room. Maxwell followed her and, in turn, so did Jack and Cross.

  The conference room could seat twelve, and had a large monitor on the only non-glass wall. Hall was tapping on her tablet and, after a moment, a video came on screen with a disheveled, exhausted looking young woman in the centre. She had curly blonde hair that was caked in grime, and perhaps blood. Her blue eyes, while weary, still contained a spark of alertness, her demeanor was one of confidence, and Jack would be forced to admit if he were asked that he was impressed with how well she was holding together. Maxwell took a seat at the head of the table, looking towards the monitor while Jack stood off to the side; Cross moving around to Maxwell’s other side.

  “Emma, what’s the situation there?” Maxwell asked.

  “Worse than last time. When are you coming to get us?” Emma demanded.

  “We’re mobilizing a strike team at this precise moment.” Maxwell told her. “Major Jack Ramsay is our specialist—”

  “I don’t care who he is as long as he gets here soon! We’ve blocked off the stairs with beds and whatever we can find - fortunately they’re not capable of using the elevators... at least, not yet. But there are hundreds of them; it’s just a matter of time until—” She was explaining when Maxwell cut her off.

  “I understand that. Our resources have been spread thin, but I assure you we are on our way to secure you and the other personnel in the hospital.” Maxwell told her. “Should we be unable to, however, I think it’s prudent that you give us whatever data you have on the outbreak. That way we can be processing it while we bring you here.”

  “Not a chance in hell!” Emma shot back. “I know what you people are like, if you have the data you’ll leave us here and that’s not something I’m about to let happen.”

  “I assure you—” Maxwell started, but Jack interceded.

  “Doctor, I’m coming to get you, don’t worry about that. Do you have any weapons? Any means of defending yourself?”

  “It’s a hospital.” She responded as though he was an idiot, then she took a deep breath before speaking again. “There are some chemicals we can use to make something maybe. When they got through the doors downstairs we just ran and have been so focused on trying to fortify ourselves that I just haven’t had time to look over what we have. Mostly we’ve got whatever we could get our hands on; I’ve got an axe, someone else has a crutch, things like that.”

  “Rest assured, Doctor Reed, we’ll be there soon.”

  “I hope so, because if you’re not—” She was saying when the signal suddenly died. Hall tapped at her tablet computer then looked at Maxwell and shook her head.

  “Power’s already been out in that area for a few days, but it seems as though the backup generators have just given out.” Hall reported. Maxwell turned to look at Jack.

  “Then I suppose we should begin. Elizabeth, bring up the map of the target location.”

  Hall complied, bringing up a map with the hospital as the central point of the display.

  “The hospital pretty much takes up a city block on its own. Two buildings each with seven floors connected by three walkways on the first, third and fifth floors.”

  “Why not just get them to the roof and airlift them out?” Jack questioned.

  “The helipad on the roof is not clear; an air ambulance crashed when an infected aboard killed the pilot.”

  “So? Just land either on the other rooftop of the hospital or one of the other rooftops nearby. I’m seeing a couple that would allow a good pilot to get close enough to make it work.”

  “Emma assures us those are not viable.”

  “Because?”

  “She has been reluctant to share p
recise details other than to say that the hospital is not suitable for helicopter insertion or extraction.” Maxwell inserted.

  Jack frowned. It was unlike Maxwell to allow someone to dictate how a rescue operation was going to be conducted. He didn’t like it - he didn’t like it one little bit. To him, it seemed Maxwell knew more than he was saying, but so far he was keeping it to himself.

  “So, what is the master plan you’ve developed?” Jack questioned sarcastically.

  “Elizabeth?” Maxwell asked, pointing at the map. Jack followed his gesture and looked at the screen.

  “The best place to insert an extraction team is three blocks west, here.” Hall reported, circling an area that looked as though it was mostly residential. “Satellite scans have revealed that the street is clear enough for a rope insertion, so you and your team will descend to the city streets then proceed on foot to the hospital.”

  “What’s the situation on the ground around there?” Jack questioned.

  “There’re a number of infected, but moving quickly and being flexible about which streets you take should allow you to reach the hospital. Once there, move around to the rear of the building and use the employee access to gain entry. Doctor Reed says she’s in the primary building, so you shouldn’t need to cross over to the other one.” Hall explained. Jack nodded, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being kept in the dark about something and there was no way he was going to lead a team into danger with only half the facts.

  “Is there more to this than the infected? Is there another threat that I should be aware of before I drop into the meat grinder?” Jack pressed. Maxwell looked grave then shrugged.

  “Emma has led us to believe that there may be some agents from Bolvinox who aren’t overly keen on her divulging whatever secrets she has to share with us.”

  “Who the hell are Bolvinox?” Jack asked.

  “They are a pharmaceutical production and research company.” Maxwell responded. “No governmental connections that we’re aware of, and they’re not even in the top three companies in the country.”