“What has happened?” Catherine says as she sits down next to Josh, lifting his hand into hers as she does.
Gradually, Josh tells her the truth about what happened at the Orion building, from start to finish. How Dan was killed and how his Dad was infected. He tells her how he had to leave his Dad behind and the guilt he feels for doing that. It takes time to tell her as he tries to control his emotions. Catherine sits in silence as Josh tells her his awful story. She can’t help but get upset as she hears it, since her heart aches for Josh, for Emily and for herself.
When Josh finishes, they sit in silence, both processing what he said.
“Thank you for telling me,” Catherine says, breaking the silence, her spirit hanging by a thread—a thread that, for Emily, she won’t let break.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save him,” Josh says.
“Josh, you can’t blame yourself, this isn’t your fault; you couldn’t have done anything else.”
“I could have stayed with him, I left him on his own in the dark.”
“You had no choice, Josh. What good would it have done if you’d stayed? That is the last thing your father would have wanted. He told you, and he wanted you here with your sister.”
“Catherine is right, Josh; your dad would have failed if you had done that,” Alice says.
“I know, it doesn’t make it any easier though.”
“What shall we tell Emily?” Catherine asks.
Josh tells Catherine what he has decided to tell Emily and she agrees that it is the best thing to tell her.
“Are you ready to talk to Emily?” Catherine asks.
“Yes, I think I am.”
Colonel Reed has abandoned the command tent where Winters had left him earlier. He and his entourage have relocated to a large conference room in the Terminal 5 building. The room has been freshly kitted out with the latest tech to command and control Operation Denial. The tents acted as a temporary measure the Colonel had set up until this room was up and running.
Winters is grateful that the new command centre is operational and glad he missed the worst of the weather in that tent. He also suspects that Colonel Reed is pleased to have left the tent behind too, no matter how much bravado he would have given about being on the ground as close to the action as possible.
The new command area is bustling as Winters enters; easily fifty personnel are busily helping direct the battle to take back London. There had also been a steady stream of staff coming and going as Winters had made his way through the terminal building to get here.
A bank of fifteen large monitors has been hung onto the wall at the back of the relatively dimly lit room. Streaming onto the screens is footage from ‘action areas’ around London. The footage arriving from drones flying around the city, CCTV cameras and from soldiers’ head cams amongst other sources. Action and fighting fill all the screens. The dark of night is masked by military-grade HD lowlight cameras, street lighting and burning fires. Only a few screens are showing darker images, but they only show the muzzle flashes and explosions in starker contrast.
In front of the bank of monitors is a cordoned-off area with a few tables and other computer monitors scattered around. Then behind that area, which Winters has just entered, is where the main bulk of the personnel are working. This area is where all the data from the operation is processed and passed up the chain of command. Some of it will reach the top brass in the cordoned-off area, including Colonel Reed.
Winters, gripping the costly holdall in one hand and his satchel-style briefcase in the other, makes his way down the centre aisle between the rows of whirring computers and busy staff, who constantly crossing over the aisle on important business that can’t be delayed. Winters recognises many of the personnel working in the new command room. All are well trained and that training is constantly refreshed with exercises, drills and lessons.
Winters himself participates in many of these tasks as part of his position and rank. He makes sure he is involved with any and all new procedures and training that will keep him at the top of his game.
Winters nods at various people he sees and has had dealings with, and they all acknowledge him back. They all know he is the right-hand man of the Colonel and that affords him their respect, some envy and probably some sympathy. Winters has little time for their feelings, however, and is hardly friendly with any of the other personnel; he prefers it that way, as it doesn’t confuse matters.
Sure enough, Colonel Reed is at the centre of events. He stands tall directly in front of the bank of monitors, his grey-haired head moving from side to side as he follows the action laid out before him. The Colonel is surrounded by the usual cronies and yes men, who are far enough up the Colonel, they must surely smell his crack.
Winters assumes his colleagues consider him to be one of these ass-kissing plebs and maybe they are correct to a certain extent, but they are also wrong in many ways. Winters didn’t come from the same kind of privileged background as the other men surrounding the Colonel. Winters came from a family of divorced parents, went to a normal state school and worked shifts to put himself through college. After college, he had a choice, to lumber himself with debt and go to university or choose another path. Winters chose the Army and plans to get to the top of his chosen profession, even if it means kissing some ass on his way.
“Excuse me, Colonel, Sir, I have the package.”
The Colonel makes a show of ignoring Winters for a moment as if something vital is happening on the screens in front of him. Winters is well used to his idiosyncrasies and waits patiently for
