Capital Falling Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3]

the roof, looking for targets. Sergeant Dixon hits the roof hard too, behind me; he is carrying more weight than me, but even so, he controls his descent, landing like the well-trained pro he is. On the other side of the Lynx’s underbelly, the rest of the SBS team are down their ropes in quick succession and the three get down just as fast as it took Dixon and me. They are already fanning out from the landing zone, clearing the way for the next team to descend, stalking behind their rifles until they find the optimal covering position and when each man has, he drops to one knee. I do the same and by the time all five of us have taken a knee, every zone of the roof has a rifle trained on it. My zone includes our entry into Orion, the charred black hole with rubble around its edges. It is only then when I am in position that I notice the rain is starting to come down harder and the light has decreased even more around me, the mix of smoke and heavy cloud cutting off so much of the sun that it feels like dusk already.

Josh, above us, releases the dangling fast ropes’ anchors and the ropes drop down onto the roof and are quickly followed by the tarpaulin. As soon as he finishes, our Lynx tilts and flies forward, making way for the second Lynx to make its run. Trooper Collins, who is closest to the insertion zone and the dropped ropes, hastily clears the ropes and the tarpaulin out of the way, as the last thing we need is for one of the next team to land on one of the ropes and twist an ankle, or worse.

“Roof secured, cleared for insertion,” I say into my headset as soon as I am satisfied.

Our relative reprieve from the loud whine of engines and buffering from rotors is short-lived as the other Lynx hovers into position. In that small window, however, there is no mistaking the sound of banging and rattling coming from the locked rooftop door that is away to my right, a chilling reminder that we are not alone. The door is in Dixon’s zone and his rifle is trained on that door, but if, God forbid, the door gives way, there is no telling how many Rabids would flood through it from the stairwell and the seven floors below.

I try not to dwell on that scenario, but I do have to consider that eventuality, although I cannot think of a positive outcome if the door is breached while we are still here.

Behind me, the second Lynx approaches the insertion zone and the noise increases exponentially, as does the downdraft. I don’t look around to see how it is doing or to see if the men are dropping down the ropes yet. My concentration is focused on covering my areas; the only time it wavers for a split second is when my eyes dart to the door and every time they do, I half expect to see the door bursting open and Rabids streaming out.

I instinctively know when the Lynx is in position when the noise and wind from the rotors are at their peak and sure enough, within a couple of seconds, Dan takes a position a few feet to my left, on one knee, his rifle trained at the ready. This time, the Lynx hovers over the insertion zone for longer as Alice releases the ropes and then has to lower down the kit for the plasma cutter. I trust in the team doing their jobs and continue to concentrate on my area, waiting patiently for them to finish and for the Lynx to move off. Soon enough, the noise coming down from above changes and then above me, the second Lynx moves away from the roof to take up its position, covering us from the air.

All ten men that are now on the roof stay in their positions until the second Lynx has moved off and the volume on the roof reverts back to a relatively normal level, my eagerness to get on making those few seconds drag out. Even though the two helicopters have left our immediate vicinity, they don’t stray far, well within rifle range—and the noise from their engines is still considerable. That noise doesn’t drown out the thunderous drumming on the stairwell door and the door is visibly rattling under the constant barrage it is receiving from behind it; we need to get out of here as soon as possible.

“Okay, let’s get this done,” I say into my headset when the Lynx has gone and taking my cue, everyone starts to move.

“Dan, make sure that door is well covered,” I order.

“Don’t worry, Boss, I’ve brought a surprise for that task,” Dan says.

My confusion doesn’t last long as I follow the direction of his eyes over to the landing zone and see an M2 Browning, 50-calibre machine gun, sitting beside the plasma equipment, with boxes of belt-fed ammo for it there too.

“Nice surprise,” I tell him, “get it set up.”

Dan, gets to it, as does the rest of his team who move to their assigned positions to provide cover on the roof for my team, whose job is the safe down in Sir Malcolm’s office.

Sergeant Dixon and I approach the uninviting hole down, both of our rifles trained on it. We stop short of the hole though, while we wait for the other three members of our team to carry over the plasma equipment. I’d nearly forgotten I’m still wearing the ballistic glasses. A raindrop runs down the front of them to remind me and I reach up to take them off; they are doing more harm than good.

Watts goes past us first, the rifle he was holding replaced by the boxed plasma cutter. He is closely followed by the two other men. One carries the gas bottle and tarpaulin, while the other has the generator. They