“We are going to take it slow and quiet, so clear your corners. Sergeant Dixon will only follow us in when the room is secure, understood?” I tell the team and each of them signals, affirmative.
The four of us spread out as we move on the hole, Watts on the left, then me, Simms on my right and Kim next to him in our little semi-circle. Dixon stays put as the main character covering us, his briefcase at his side. We keep low, all of our rifles concentrated on the dark hole as we inch in closer. I thought I’d left my nerves and fear back in the Lynx’s hold, but they are boiling to the top again and I have to push them back down, refocusing my mind back on our task, something in which I am clearly out of practice.
With only a couple of feet to the edge, I signal to halt. My left hand reaches up to my body armour and pulls three glow sticks out. It is impossible to hear if any sound is coming from the hole, but if there is, it is drowned out by the loud incessant banging reverberating from the door behind, the whine of the Lynx above and the patter of heavy rain. There isn’t a beam of light coming from the hole; were lights in Sir Malcolm’s office on or off yesterday, and is the power on or off in the building? I can’t answer either question.
I do hear the low cracks as I break the three glow sticks between my two hands, I give them a good shake with my left hand and give them a couple of seconds for their orange glow to develop. Deliberately, I swing my arm once to show my team I’m about to throw them, then take a second swing and release them towards the hole. For a split second, I think my nerves have got the better of me and my throw is going to miss the hole, even from this short distance… but it doesn’t, my embarrassment is saved and the glow sticks sail into the hole, disappearing into the darkness. The main reason for throwing the glow sticks in is of course for the light. There is a second, however and that is to see if there is a reaction to them from any Rabids that might be lurking. There isn’t any reaction, and nothing changes apart from the hole has a tinge of orange glowing from it and Corporal Simms throws a couple more sticks down for good measure.
Tentatively, not taking anything for granted, I rise to a stand and the orange glow from the hole increases the higher I get. I still can’t really see into the office, so I edge forward, my rifle poised, and beside me the other men take my lead and do the same, all of us ready to shoot. Gradually, I begin to see into Sit Malcolm’s office, and it looks just like we left it, apart from the darkness and scattered glow sticks on the floor trying to brighten the room. Sir Malcolm’s desk is still pushed up against the door, my feeble attempt to stop a hoard of Zombies hasn’t moved; it gives my confidence in the mission a boost.
“The office door is still shut; it looks like the room is clear and we are good to go,” I say to the team.
“Affirmative; the office is clear,” Corporal Simms confirms.
“Okay, Dixon, can you bring a couple of the ropes over, in case we need a quick exit?” I ask.
“Affirmative,” he replies.
“I’ll go down first, cover me,” I tell the other three.
I move right to the edge of the hole and get down on one knee in front of it; putting my left hand down for support, I lean down into the hole as far as possible to give the office one last check before I go in. The office definitely looks clear so I turn around, put both hands on the wet edge of the roof and start to lower myself in, my feet reaching out as I lower, looking for the coffee table that is still on top of the sideboard housing the safe. My feet find the table and I transfer my weight onto it, making sure it is steady, then carefully step down onto the secure sideboard.
Before I give the next man the all-clear, I again scan the room, the orange glow twinkling as the rain comes down through the hole above, piercing the light. But apart from that, nothing moves.
Giving them the all-clear, get down off the sideboard to make way for the next man and take a position next to the sideboard, one hand on my M4 and the other steadying the coffee table. The quiet of the office is spoiled by the banging coming from the rooftop door which travels down through the hole above me and from the door to the stairwell which is next to Sir Malcolm’s office. Thankfully, the Rabids seem to be ignoring the door next to the office, for now at least.
Three of the men are down in quick succession, Sergeant Dixon the last of those three, after passing his case down. Lance Corporal Kim stays up top to ferry the rest of the equipment over and pass it down, but the first thing he does is to tie off two of the fast ropes and drop them down. If we have to evacuate quickly, they could be invaluable.
Sergeant Dixon doesn’t mess about and makes a beeline to the safe. He has no need to look for it; the sideboard’s sliding door is still open, revealing its position. He reaches up and turns on his LED headlamp, getting to work dismantling the keypad.
“Do you want the tarpaulin
