“Tell them to lower their weapons,” the Corporal shouts with little authority.
“You first, sonny,” Dixon retorts, scratching his chin.
None of the Corporal’s team is showing any sign of wanting any part of this standoff and look nervously on, having zero clues what to do. There will have to be a good reason for the Special Forces operatives to stand down. They can’t have jumped-up regulars bandying around stories of how they faced down two Special Forces patrols, one SBS and the other SAS to boot. None of the men would let that happen and not just because they would never live it down.
“Corporal, lower your weapon; that is an order,” Lieutenant Winters instructs the hapless man, who hasn’t even noticed his arrival at his side.
“But Sir, they have to be screened.”
“I won’t tell you again Corporal, lower your weapon.”
Gradually, the tension eases as the Corporal’s rifle begins to lower, the man’s authority in tatters as well as his pride. Once his rifle’s aim is lowered away from Dixon, his team relax, and their weapons lower also.
“Sergeant,” Winters says to Dixon. “Get your team formed up ready for screening.”
“Screening, Sir?” Dixon asks, confused.
“Yes, Sergeant, it’s the latest method to check that new arrivals haven’t been infected. All it involves is a scan of your eye, nothing to worry about—and the sooner we get it done, the sooner we can let these men get on with their jobs.”
“And a fine job they are doing, Sir.” The unadulterated sarcasm is cutting.
“Nevertheless, let’s get on with it, Sergeant.”
“Yes, Sir,” Dixons replies before telling his team to form up.
“Carry on, Corporal,” Winters instructs the beaten man.
Josh and Alice are ushered to the front of the queue, mainly for Josh’s benefit. Both teams of Special Forces have lost brothers in arms on operations and that is bad enough. To lose your father on the same operation is beyond words and the whole team want to do what little they can for their new comrade.
Josh, to his credit, is standing tall and does so as his eye is scanned by another member of the newly timid welcoming committee. Suddenly, please and thank you are the orders of the day. The overzealous Corporal stands to the side with his tail between his legs, thinking of excuses to save face with his men when his ordeal is finally over.
Dixon stands at the back of the queue, still scratching his chin and eyeing the Corporal, prolonging his suffering for as long as possible.
Josh passes the screening and walks over to Winters.
“How are you holding up?” Winters asks him.
“I’m not sure; to be honest, it’s a head fuck and I’m not getting my head around it.”
“It’s early days, Josh, and for what it’s worth, your Dad got you and your sister to safety which is what he wanted. Also, for what it’s worth, he didn’t have a choice but to do this mission. He did it to try and keep you safe, so don’t hold it against him and don’t feel guilty about it either because I didn’t know him long but I do know he would do it all again.
I know it might be too soon for me to be saying that, but I don’t know if I’ll get another chance.
You don’t have any obligations to this fight now, Josh. You’ve played your part and I’ll make sure you are out. You’ve got your sister to look after now, so leave the rest to somebody else, that’s what your Dad would want. Is that what you want?”
“That’s my priority now, although I don’t know how to keep her safe from this,” Josh tells Winters.
“I’m not sure I can tell you either. If it were me, I’d get as far away from here as possible, across the sea if I could, but that will be easier said than done, I know.”
“Do you know where my sister is now?”
“Yes, they are in the First-Class lounge, I’ll make arrangements for you to be taken there.”
“Thanks, I’ve got some plans and decisions to make.”
“Yes, and I’m sure you’ll make the right ones,” Winters encourages.
“Thanks, I hope you’re right.”
Alice gets through screening and joins them to wait for the rest of the team. She doesn’t disturb the two men talking. Hopefully, Winters has found the words she couldn’t quite find. Josh looks as well as can be expected, better even, considering.
Downey, with his unwanted package—the holdall—follows Josh and Alice to screening. Winters waits patiently as Downey has his details tapped into the phone and he watches as Downey has the phone held up to his eye. The miraculous new App zooms right in on the eyeball, scanning for evidence that the owner of the eyeball is infected. The App takes its time scanning before it snaps a picture of the eye and eventually ‘CLEAR’ pops up in green across the screen.
“Clear,” the operator of the phone announces, and Downey moves past to join Josh, Alice and Winters.
As soon as he reaches them, he lifts the holdall up, presenting it to Winters, eager to relieve himself of the burden.
Winters gives the holdall a look of disdain, as if to say, is this what the grief’s been over? He then lifts his arm and takes the handles of the bag off Downey.
“Thanks,” Winters says.
“Your welcome to it, Sir, I just hope it was worth the cost.”
“You and me both Corporal, you and me both.”
Winters takes the holdall over to the Discovery, opens the back door and places it onto the back seat. He closes the door and turns in the direction of the Corporal in charge of the screening team.
“What is your name, Corporal?” Winters asks the embarrassed man.
“Harris, Sir.”
“You have a job to do, Harris. That doesn’t mean you have to be a prick while you are doing it. Your comrades returning to base have been through enough
