Note: The survivors are back for six more installments of infected disaster. Please read and review so I know what you think, I really apprieciate it. This is a sequel to my first Left 4 Dead story; At All Costs, I suggest you visit my profile and read that if you have not done so already. Now get reading and I hope you enjoy! - Andy

The Director's Directive

The London Eye was barley visible through the thickness of the morning fog. Big Ben began to chime, alerting the public that it was nine o'clock. On the main high street, there was a lot of hustle and bustle. Cars drove through the city while pedestrians walked along the path, each acting as they normally would. Above the street in one of the apartments overlooking London, two people lay in bed with the large bedroom window open. Some of the covers had blown off in the breeze, revealing the bare back of a woman. Zoey shuffled in bed and pulled the covers back over, relishing in the warmth. Her partner turned over and put a comforting arm over her.

'You stole the covers,' Graham said light-heartedly. 'Again.' Zoey grinned cheekily.

'They're mine now,' she giggled. Graham pulled them off her and Zoey gave a mock scream. She jumped on top of him to try and pull them back. Graham's grip was tight and Zoey soon gave up, leaning close to his face and kissing him passionately.

'You have too much energy in the morning,' Graham joked.

'You were in the Navy!' Zoey laughed. 'You should have more energy. To fight pirates… and stuff.' Graham smiled and looked to the clock. He sighed.

'Time to get up,' he said grudgingly. He stepped out of bed while Zoey remained still, cocooning herself in the blankets.

'Close the window!' she insisted. 'It nearly kept me up all night.'

'I think that was something else,' Graham grinned cheekily at her as he closed the windows. 'I'm taking a shower… care to join me?'

'You always ask me that,' Zoey rolled her eyes. 'Step away from the window, people in the other building can see your ass!' Graham stepped toward the bathroom and winked at her. Zoey sighed and went to join him.

*

Away from London, in a quaint little village called Farnham, Bill was out on a morning stroll. Gone were the old army fatigues and green beret, in their place were beige trousers with a white shirt and a thin beige jacket. He still had a cigarette in his mouth, gladly puffing away as he walked down the path. In the large park, Bill took a seat by a trickling stream. Behind him, late students were running to school while parents with their young children went to play in the nearby park. Bill sighed, enjoying every moment of peace.

'How's it going?' Francis asked, suddenly arriving and spoiling his mood. Bill muttered something under his breath as Francis sat down, still wearing his favourite leather vest. Bill turned to him, as a parent would turn to their disruptive child.

'Have you been out all night drinking?' he asked.

'Hell yeah,' Francis beamed. 'I love the British; they really know how to get wasted!'

'We've been here for, what? Six months?' Bill asked rhetorically. 'Where are you getting this money from?'

'They give out free drinks if you're one of the survivors from America,' Francis explained. 'There's not that many people who overcame the zombie apocalypse to make it to safety and civilization, with stories to tell and beer to drink!'

'I'm so glad you're profiting from this,' Bill shook his head. He stood up.

'Where are you going?' Francis asked.

'Back home,' Bill muttered. 'It's bad enough they forced me to live with you. I can hardly handle seeing you during the day, let alone the start of it.' Bill set off back home. Francis sprawled out on the bench and looked up at the sky. The weather from London was slowly making its way down south, obscuring the sky. Francis sighed and closed his eyes.

*

Louis stepped out of his office and was immediately followed by his assistant.

'Lord Baber contacted you again,' he told him. 'He thinks that we need to increase the deadline by about three weeks.'

'We'll do it by two and see how things go,' Louis told him, looking through some papers. They walked through a crowded office floor, bustling with activity. They stopped in front of the elevator and Louis pushed the call button. 'Did Karen ring back about Reed Aviation?' he asked.

'Yeah,' his assistant said with a tone of disappointment. 'Unfortunately flights are still grounded worldwide. The UN decided to wait a little while longer before allowing airports to reopen.'

'Fair enough,' Louis said, the doors opening. 'Keep an eye on the press office. I want to know as soon as we can get up in the air again.'

'The Americas will be a no-fly zone,' his assistant pointed out. 'Various Naval forces from around the world have only just agreed on a plan to repopulate the west. It's going to take decades, most likely, for it to be safe to go there again.' Louis pushed the button to send them to the car park and folded his arms.

'I can wait,' he said sighing. 'God, ten past nine and I'm already tired.'

'I can postpone some meetings for you if you'd like,' his assistant suggested. The doors opened and Louis shook his head, stepping outside. They started walking toward Louis' car, a black BMW 3 series. The paint shimmered in the light. Louis suddenly got a phone call.

'It's Karen,' he told his assistant. 'Load the car and get it started and I'll join you in just a second.' His assistant walked over to the car as Louis sighed and answered the phone.

'Hey Karen,' she said, feigning a cheerful telephone voice. 'Please tell me you've got good news.'

'I'm afraid not,' Karen said. 'You may want to sit down for this,' Louis grimaced and rubbed his face with his palm.

'Let me just get into my car,' he moaned. As he stepped over, his assistant loaded the vehicle and opened the driver's seat for him. Louis mouthed to him, saying he should drive, stepping into the passenger's side. His assistant drove out of the car park and went down the road. 'What's the damage?' he asked her.

'I'll be blunt,' Karen said.

'I wouldn't have it any other way…' Louis sighed.

'There is no way in hell you're getting back,' she reported. Louis groaned. 'What you have to understand is that Canada, and North & South America are still potentially infectious. They plan to wait at least a year so they can…' Louis interrupted her.

'A year?' he said loudly. 'Christ, what good will that accomplish?'

'I'm sorry,' Karen insisted. 'But there's nothing we can do. I know you had your heart set on settling the contract to help rebuild but it's just not going to happen.' There as an uncomfortable pause. 'Just let it go, alright?' Karen said. 'I'll give you a call later to…' Louis hung up and threw the phone into the back seat. He sighed dejectedly and rested his head in his hands.

'Not good news?' his assistant asked. Louis shook his head

'They don't trust Stasys with the contract,' he told him. He shook his head. 'Three months… three months wasted!' He smashed his fist on the dashboard.

'We're not just going to give up, are we?'

'We have to,' Louis muttered. 'There's no way we're going to receive any more funding for this… we'll be reassigned.'

'I'm sorry,' his assistant said.

'It's not your fault,' Louis shook his head. 'We both did the best we good. It's just the government screwing us over.' His assistant signalled to turn left but Louis shook his head. 'I'm cancelling the meeting,' he said. 'Let's go to the pub. I think we're both going to need a drink.' His assistant chuckled and turned right instead.

As the car turned down the road, it went down a few hundred yards when the back window suddenly exploded. Louis' assistant suddenly lurched and slumped at the wheel. The car began to spin out of control and veered off the road. The car mounted the pavement and drove into a letterbox, causing it to flip onto two wheels and crash through a shop window, eventually falling to the roof when it came to a stop. Inside, Louis was hanging upside down. He unlocked his seatbelt and fell to the roof. He looked over to his assistant and gasped when he saw the bullet hole in his head. Louis kicked the door open and crawled out of the vehicle. He managed to get to his feet and saw the damage. He put his hand on his head and was breathing heavily. Various witnesses were congregating around the damaged area. Louis leant against a wall and slid down to the ground.

*

Bill entered the shared apartment. By the door were two pairs of shoes.

'You guys up?' Bill called out, locking the door and tossing the keys and his phone to the side. He stepped through the rather bare apartment into the kitchen. He looked around. There were two cereal bowls on the central table. Bill rolled his eyes at the sight of his flatmates' disregard for cleaning and lifted one of them up. It was still half full of breakfast cereal. He looked suspiciously at it and lifted the other bowl. It was also full, but the milk had a slight pinkish tint to it. There came a faint noise from upstairs. 'Hello?' Bill asked cautiously.

He moved back into the hallway and looked up the stairs. Bill was about to start heading up when he saw something move in the kitchen. A figure emerged from a corner with a gun. From up the stairs, another figure emerged, weapon aimed for him. Bill threw one of the bowls up the stairs, knocking the weapon aside. He threw the other at the person in the kitchen. Bill darted upstairs and grabbed the attacker's weapon before it could be used. The other person started running up, firing at him. The gun made no noise. Bill dived through the hallway, the bullets hitting the wall and the person behind him. He ran inside one of the bedrooms and gasped as he saw the corpse of one of his flatmates slumped on the floor, a bullet hole in his head. Bill shot the glass window and jumped out as the door behind him burst open. As he landed, he rolled along the ground and started firing up at the window, preventing the attacker from shooting at him. Bill's gun clicked empty as he jumped over the dividing fence.

Emerging out on the street, Bill looked around desperately. He checked his pockets, looking for his phone. He sighed and ran away as fast as he could.

*

In the park, Francis' eyes bolted open as the phone in his pocket started to ring. He rubbed his face and yawned as he looked at the screen. When he registered what was said, his eyes suddenly became more alert and he answered the call.

'Louis…' he said, surprised. 'It's… been a while…'

'Francis,' Louis said, gasping in pain. 'Sorry to just call you out of the blue like this.'

'Don't worry about it,' Francis interrupted. 'It's good to talk to you again. How've you been?'

'Someone just tried to kill me!' Francis stood up soberly. He took in the information Louis had given him but wasn't sure how to react. 'You still there?' he asked.

'Yeah,' Francis muttered. 'Yeah… God, what happened? Are you alright?'

'I'm fine,' Louis said, holding in a cry of pain as a paramedic sterilised a gash on his arm. 'We were driving down the street when my driver… when Elliott was shot. By a sniper rifle the cops say.'

'Jesus…' Francis sat back down, holding his head.

'I was supposed to be driving…' Louis continued. 'If I hadn't then I'd… I'd…'

'Hey man,' Francis cut in. 'Don't think like that.'

'I was supposed to be driving,' Louis repeated. 'That means that I was supposed to be shot.' Francis fell quiet. Louis ushered the paramedic away. 'Look, has anything like this happened to you?'

'Why?' Francis asked apprehensively.

'Well I have no idea why someone would want to take me out,' Louis said. A policeman approached him, respectfully waiting for him to finish his phone call. 'Look I gotta go, but keep an eye out. If someone's coming after me they might be coming after you, too.'

'Coming after survivors?' Francis leant forward. 'Why?'

'I don't know…' Louis sighed. 'Anyway I have to go. I'll call you soon.' Louis put the phone away and apologised to the policeman for making him wait. Francis stared at the phone and sighed. He thought about what Louis had said.

'Why would someone want to kill us?' he muttered to himself.

*

Avery Ingram was stood in front of the large glass wall. The view was beautiful, the bright lights from the city danced inside the dark office he was stood in. He stood with his legs together and his hands resting on an elegant looking cane. The office door opened and the lights were turned on. A balding Asian man in a smart pinstripe suit stepped inside and was surprised at Avery's presence.

'What are you doing here, Director?' the man asked in Chinese.

'Just here to see the sights…' the Director softly replied in the same dialect, talking as fluently as he spoke English. He remained staring out the window, his fingers tapping the handle of the cane.

'A man of your character does not come to Beijing to see the sights,' the man said, closing the door behind him. 'What do you want?' The Director turned around, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the man.

'How long have we been friends, Zan?' he asked. The man let out a mock laugh.

'Is that how you think of us?' he retorted sarcastically. The Director shook his head slightly.

'Very well… how long have we been… acquaintances?'

'Just acquaintances?' Zan said mockingly. 'After ten years I'd think we'd be colleagues at least.' He paused as the Director looked back out of the window. 'Or maybe we're enemies?'

'I consider my enemies to be people who actively work against me,' the Director said defiantly. 'I consider a colleague to be someone who works with me.' The Director turned to Zan, giving him a knowing glare. 'You happen to fit both categories nicely.'

Zan stepped back, holding up his hands.

'What are you talking about?' he asked. The Director turned and faced him.

'They say to keep your friends close and your enemies' closer…' he said quietly. 'A saying I never really understood or particularly agree with.'

'And why's that?' Zan asked nervously.

'You know where you stand with your enemies… but your friends! My word, if you let them get close to you, it gives them an opportunity to go behind your back.' Zan shuffled apprehensively.

'What's your point?' he asked. 'You consider me a friend?'

'I would never be so presumptuous…' the Director said sinisterly. 'To be clear I consider you… worthless.' The Director stepped away from the window and over to Zan, who promptly got out of his way. He moved with a slight limp, supporting his weight on the cane.

'When CEDA was disbanded,' the Director said softly, 'it was your job to make sure that it was impossible for any of us to be traced. You failed us, Zan.'

'Now you listen to me,' Zan said aggressively. 'I did my best. I was unprepared for the extent of their investigations!'

'You were unprepared!' the Director yelled, starling Zan. 'Everyone else was prepared. I was prepared, I was leading this operation. I put my trust and faith in you and you…' The Director paused, swallowing his anger. 'You made a fool out of me!'

'You made a fool out of yourself when you lost that aircraft carrier because of four civilians!' Zan snapped back. The Director swung his cane through the air and hit him around the face. Zan fell to the ground, a large gash on his cheek. The Director turned and went for the door. He opened it and waited in the doorway. 'Hurts, doesn't it?' Zan said, standing up with his hand to his face. 'You can pass the blame onto others, but deep down you know that it's fault everything is getting out of hand because you can't cope with it and that…' Zan paused. 'That's the thing that's eating you up inside… that's what's hurting you the most.'

'I may be hurting,' the Director whispered, turning to look at him. 'However unlike you, I have the means to fix my problems. You're nothing. You're just pathetic…' He took a breath and looked back out of the door. 'Besides, my pain is nothing compared to what you're about to feel.' The Director stepped outside and two muscular men in suits took his place. They dragged him out of the office and down the corridor. The Director closed his eyes as he heard him be taken away, taking a deep breath. He opened his eyes with a smile on his face.

'Now onto those other four…' he whispered to himself.

*

Francis put the phone in his pocket and looked at the stream ahead. The sky was now covered with grey clouds, not a single patch of blue could be seen. He shivered slightly and decided to get up and go back home. As he started walking, the engine of a parked van that was on the road in the distance kicked into life. The driver spoke into a radio, talking to someone fifty yards from Francis. This person followed him as the van crept around the park. It was heading for the gate that Francis was walking to.

Francis, oblivious to anything, got closer to the road. The man following him was now about thirty yards from him, walking at a much faster pace than he was. Francis stepped beyond the gate and waited to cross the road. The van came closer but was blocked by a slow moving bus suddenly pulling out in front of it. Francis hastily crossed the road and continued walking home. The man following him picked up his pace to one of a light jog. The van also sped up after it managed to overtake the bus. As Francis walked down the street the two people following him got even closer. The van pulled up next to him and matched his speed of walking. Francis noticed it and gave the driver a confused look. He then looked behind and saw the man that was following him. Suddenly realising what was going, Francis stepped back.

'Oh God…' he muttered to himself.

'Francis!' Bill cried, emerging from a corner. Francis turned and ran for him. The van accelerated suddenly as he tried to run. Being chased, Francis and Bill ran off the street into a car park. Running in between the vehicles, they made some distance between themselves and the van. The driver stepped out, chasing Bill and Francis on foot with the other man. Behind the car park, a bridge ran over the stream that would run through the park. 'This way,' Bill instructed, taking Francis over the bridge.

When the other two arrived, one of them ran over the bridge while the other went in another direction. Dashing past various buildings he looked desperately for Bill and Francis. In the distance was a large village hall. He ran inside and looked around the reception.

'I guess your looking for an old guy and a biker?' the receptionist asked.

'Where did they go?' he asked.

'They stormed in and ran down there,' he nodded. 'You the police?' The man shot the receptionist and made his way down the hall.

'Not exactly.'

Moving down the hallway, the man searched for the two. He looked down other corridors and through doors. He made his way to a dead end, stopping and looking around. There was one door that stood ajar. He ran for it and pushed it open. Francis kicked the door, smashing it into the pursuer. Bill emerged from another room and retrieved his weapon. In the heat of the moment, Francis was able to restrain him and keep him secure. Bill held the weapon at the attacker.

'What are you doing?' he asked him. The attacker was silent. 'You came to the house and killed our housemates, why?' Francis winced at this news. He then looked surprised.

'Did you attack Louis?' he asked him. It was Bill's turn to look surprised.

'It looks like you're after the survivors… why?' he asked. The man finally spoke.

'We're just after you four,' he spat. 'The Director wants you all dead… except for you…' he looked to Francis. Bill punched the man in the head, knocking him out.

'We need to get out of here,' he said. 'And call Zoey… She's in danger.'

*

Zoey and Graham were sat at the table, eating scrambled eggs on toast. Graham had already finished his breakfast and was reading the newspaper. He was dressed in formal Naval attire. The news was on the television talking about a highly publicised trail.

'You're not taking the car, are you?' Zoey asked.

'No, why?'

'I'm gonna drive to Farnham,' she said. 'I hate getting the train.' Graham put the paper down.

'Do you even have a licence?' he asked rhetorically. Zoey grinned in response. 'Well I know nothing about your crazy plans, you got that? Anyway I'd better be going. I don't want to miss my train.'

'Good luck, today,' Zoey said warmly, standing up and kissing him. 'Tell Richard I said hello.' Graham nodded and kissed her before leaving, giving her a cheeky wink.

'Tell Bill and Francis I said hi, too,' he smiled, closing the door. Zoey looked back at the television, smiling to herself. She hurried to finish her meal so that she could set off.

*

Bill and Francis made it back to their shared apartment. Francis took the car keys and sighed.

'I'll drive,' he said. There was a bang front the front door. Bill held his weapon that he stole from the attacker up at a middle aged woman, holding her arms up.

'Michelle!' Francis said to his and Bill's housemate.

'I thought you were dead…' Bill said, surprised.

'No,' she gasped. 'Some men came inside; looking for you they… they killed Anthony!'

'How did you get out?' Bill asked.

'Tony tried to fend them off… I visited the police station but there were some shifty people in there so I ran. I came back here to get some clothes and get the hell out of here.'

'Don't get the clothes,' Francis said. 'We'll just get out of here.'

'Where can we go?' Michelle asked.

'London,' Bill said. 'Zoey's there.'

'Let's go,' Michelle took the keys and stepped outside. Gunshots pierced the air and Bill dived by the car, Francis jumping back inside the house. The windows shattered as bullets shot through them. Bill peered over to see where the shooters were. 'Where did you get that?' she asked.

'Found it in some trash,' Bill cried. 'Stay here.' Bill jumped from his cover to another car in the street. He jumped from the car to another vehicle, attempting to get around the attackers. He saw the van that had had been following Francis, a man standing by it, shooting at him. There was another shooter, but he couldn't see where he was.

Francis, in the hallway, heard something come from the kitchen. The other attacker was in there and attempted to shoot him. Francis dived for him, dodging the bullets and grabbed the weapon. The weapon fired through the window and hit the door near Michelle. She put the key in the lock and opened the door. Francis pinned the attacker down and punched him in the face, knocking him out. When he stood up, he took his weapon and moved to help Bill. Before he could leave the room, the windows exploded and Francis was knocked down when the car Michelle was in suddenly exploded. The attacker by the van panicked and got inside his vehicle, driving off as fast as he could. Bill looked at the wreckage of the car and covered his mouth. Francis staggered outside and dropped his gun when he saw the corpse inside the car.

'We need to call Zoey,' Bill said. 'Now!'

*

The Director was sat in his office overlooking the river Thames. His phone began to ring. He promptly answered it.

'Yes?' he answered.

'I'm sorry, Director Ingram,' said the man who had just driven away from Bill and Francis. 'They're still alive.' The Director sighed.

'At least tell me you picked up the target,' he asked. There was no response. 'Damn it, Martin, don't fail me… you know how I feel about people who fail me.'

'A lot of disturbance has been caused,' Martin explained. 'I'm going to lay low for a while. The others are dead so I'll need back up.'

'You're not going to get any!' the Director yelled. 'I'm on a tight schedule and I can't let you mess it all up!'

'I'm sorry!' Martin insisted.

'Just fix it,' the Director spat, slamming the phone down. His hands shook with rage. The phone rang again and he roared with anger, throwing it to the wall. A woman stepped inside his office looking worried.

'Director,' she said reluctantly. The man screamed at her.

'Why am I destined to be surrounded by incompetence?' he cried. He looked at her and blinked. 'What to you want, Liz?'

'Just to tell you,' she stuttered, 'that the teams are in Luton ready to deploy the weapon…' The Director sighed and composed himself.

'At least there's some good news…' he muttered. 'Tell them to use it.' Liz left and the Director sat down. He turned his chair and looked out of the window. 'It's all going to go to plan…' he muttered. 'It has to.'

*

At Luton airport, an easyJet plane stopped on the tarmac. Stairs were placed under the door as the ground crew waited for the passengers to depart. All doors on the aircraft burst open and people started running out. Confused, the ground staff were unprepared when they were mobbed by the passengers. One man tried to run from the mob but something wrapped around his torso and pulled him back into the mob. From the door, someone jumped out and seemingly flew over the mob and through the glass windows, screaming. Someone morbidly obese broke through a door and made his way into the terminal. A few people, who were confused, looked at him suspiciously where he suddenly vomited over them.

Another plane landed and another mob burst out and added to the havoc. A third plane was preparing to land but flew in the direction of the air traffic control tower. The wing sliced through the upper level and the plane smashed into the terminal. Through all the flames and wreckage people were screaming. Someone staggered outside of the main doors. The infected had landed.

*

Zoey stepped out of the apartment and walked over to the car park. There was a red Mazda in the distance, which she was heading for. In the distance, there was someone sat in a silver Audi. His phone rang.

'Yes, Director?'

'Make sure she dies, Sam,' the Director insisted. 'We've had problems with the others.'

'She's only a woman, don't worry,' he said. Zoey was closer to the car when he own phone started to ring. She clutched her keys as she answered the phone.

'Hey, Francis,' she said cheerily. 'You're not cancelling on me are you?'

'Zoey where are you?' he asked hurriedly.

'I'm just about to get in my car,' she said a few feet from her vehicle. 'Why?'

'Someone put a bomb in mine!' Zoey stopped a few feet from the car.

'What?'

'Someone's tried to kill me and Bill,' Francis explained. 'Louis, too.'

'Oh God, are you…?'

'We're all fine but there's someone out there after all of us, you need to get to the cops or something.' Zoey put her hand on her head. In the van, Sam was watching her anxiously. He took a pistol.

'What do I do?' she asked.

'Just get out of there, call the police and don't answer the door to anyone.' Zoey looked around and saw Sam in the van staring at her. He knew that she knew what was happening. He stepped out of his vehicle and started running toward her.

'I gotta go!' she yelled into the phone, hanging up and running away. Sam sprinted after her, running a lot faster than she was.

Zoey ran around a corner and pushed the elevator call button. She looked around the corner and dodged a bullet. Sam got closer to the corner. Zoey considered running for the stairs that were to the left, but thought that he would be able to catch up easily. The elevator doors opened. Sam darted around the corner fast enough to see the doors close. He hammered on the call button and to his surprise they opened. Inside Zoey was nowhere to be found. She emerged from the stairwell and kicked him inside, pushing the button for the top floor. Sam turned as the doors closed and the compartment started going up. Zoey, knowing she had little time ran down the stairs and onto the street. Moving as fast as she could, she ran past an electronics shop where the televisions in the window displayed a news report. The banner headline was "Crisis at Luton – Virus Outbreak Suspected".