...
Pandora's Box
(A 'Last Alarm' Story)
Written by Poynton90 & FiremanJim
Chapter 1
G'day Mates
"This is Cynthia Cartwright broadcasting on all frequencies! Our position is under attack by large numbers of the dead! Repeat, we are under heavy attack and are in danger of being overrun! If anybody out there can here this hail, please respond!"
"If you can hear this broadcast but are unable to respond, our location is the Sydney Opera House! If can assist, please help us! We have over four hundred survivors here, many of them are children!"
Sydney Opera House – Survivor Colony,
Bennelong Point,
Sydney,
New South Wales
Australia
Cynthia had been trying to hail a response from somebody, anybody, for the last two hours when sawn was beginning to peak across the horizon. She gripped the microphone in her sweaty hands and it was shaking with a mixture of fear and adrenaline as the sunlight spilling across the earth swept away the darkness of the night and brought about the beginning of a new day.
But if it had been possible, the former news broadcaster would have wished the dawn never came. At least then she wouldn't have to watch the horrors that she witnessed outside the barricades. She couldn't even begin to comprehend what she was seeing. If it had to have been a rough guess, then she was pretty damn sure that the whole population of Sydney was descending upon them.
She wasn't sure when, or how, it had started but the days before there had been an emergency when a group that went out searching for supplies had come back empty-handed and with one of their group, holding a heavily bandaged arm that was pissing blood everywhere, stepped forward and was stopped by the sentry guards. One of the soldiers had drawn their pistol and aimed it at the wounded scavenger when the others had stepped in and pushed them back, knocking the guard over and making the guard accidentally discharge their weapon into the air.
Cynthia had known that the dead responded to noise, even over greater distances if the terrain allowed it to carry far enough. But their troubles hadn't even begun there. During the fight between the guards on duty and the scavengers, one of the colony's doctors took a look at the wounded scavenger, a woman named Becky, and found that the wound looked 'jagged' as though it had been slashed or gouged against something. The woman told them that she had been looking in a pharmacy looking for antibiotics when a zombie had attacked her from behind the cash register, but swore profusely that she hadn't been bitten or scratched, and in the fall when she pushed herself away had caught herself on some old shelving that had collapsed. After Becky had managed to get away, leaving behind her pack that had been loaded with bottles of pills that they had desperately needed, she had managed to get back to the others after she had been told later that Becky had been calling out for them, screaming as though she'd lost her mind and screeching for help. Eventually one of the others had reached her and clamped their hand over her mouth after being forced to slap her and threw her into the back of their truck as the others came running with no supplies of their own.
During the night after a double guard had been placed on the perimeter wall made up of NSW police officers from all over the region and a number of surviving Australian Defense Forces soldiers, they had bedded down and extinguished the lights and torches and the guards had to use what remained of their Night-Vision goggles and scopes to scan the approach to the opera house when the first screams came in the middle of the night.
From within the main building was a scene from a nightmarish horror movie. One of the larger storage rooms had been turned into a bunk room for the scavengers and sometime during the night Becky's injury was worse than anybody previously thought, and the woman had slipped into unconsciousness when she had tried to get some water, slipped and hit her head hard on the ground. Her fall had alerted one of her fellow scavengers, but when they discovered the gathering pool of blood under their head and then the glazed eyes opened and turned on them, it was already over. When Cynthia had arrived, she just saw the last moments of the battle when the only SASR soldier amongst the others had turned their combat shotgun on what was once Becky and turned her head into a bloody mess that was sprayed across the room.
Final casualty report had been over thirty dead, and nearly double that had been bitten with another eighteen seriously injured but not infected. Whenever one of their own had been bitten before they had always respectfully treated the infected with dignity and gave them an overdose of morphine to send them off to sleep without feeling any pain whatsoever. But when they had to deal with nearly sixty people that had been bitten and infected, they just didn't know what to do. They couldn't just throw them out of the colony, because not only were they already dying from a terrible disease but sending them out now they might as well have lined them up in front of a firing squad.
But the decision would never be made. While those that had been infected were being treated to a final meal, a sugary porridge laced with drugs to send them off to sleep to be 'cared for' later, the first of the city bound creatures had arrived. Cynthia had been so distraught after watching several children having to eat the porridge that had been made for them before she realized they were under attack. The soldiers and police officers quickly took up their arms and raced to the perimeter walls to mount a defense against the undead attack. It was soon apparent they didn't have the adequate firepower to handle the growing number of creatures when they first made contact with the perimeter wall. Within minutes large numbers had started piling atop one another and they started making a 'tower' of sorts and steadily began to move closer and closer towards the soldiers atop the barricades.
Heavy automatic rifle fire tore into the gathering piles of creatures as they surged forward. They pressed themselves against the barrier and the horde kept pushing forward. Like the mindless monsters they were they cared not for the ones that were crushed against the heavy steel plating as they surged forward. They soon started crawling on to of each other, each trying to be the first to reach the warm-blooded humans above them atop the heavily defended barricades as two-dozen heavily armed soldiers trained their weapons on the abominations below and opened fire.
"Die already!" one of the soldiers firing bursts from his F88 shouted angrily.
"They're already dead, mate!" one of the civilian volunteers chortled as he fired a round from his hunting rifle.
"Then…die again you bastards!" the soldier shouted again.
The banter between the men as they fought would be short lived. As hundreds of rounds from the rifles, carbines, shotguns and pistols were emptied into the massing horde as more poured out of the wooded area ahead of the barricade they could already see that there must have been hundreds, or perhaps more, coming from the direction of the city. The was when the first of the creatures reached the top. It snarled hungrily for the closest of the human defenders and unlike a regular human wasn't fazed even the slightest as the muzzle of a Benelli combat shotgun was shoved in its face and fired. The blast was centralized directly into the bridge above its nose and without the shot being able to spread it all hit the same mark and punctured through and sprayed the creatures below and behind with rotten brain matter.
"Off my wall, ya prick!" Corporal Mike Harding growled as another creature soon took its place and was given the same treatment. He killed this one like the previous monster and not wanting more to climb and reach the top, aimed the shotgun over the edge of the barricade and emptied the last of his shells into the small 'tower' that had formed below and made it crumble and fall back amongst the others. Harding had seen it all these last five years since he took refuge here with this small colony of survivors. When his team had been deployed to Sydney in the early days of the outbreak he'd fought in the streets, trying to fend off the rampaging hordes of monsters but they would only lose ground and men. He'd originally been in a team of eight operators and after those five shit years, he was the only one left standing.
Some of the men he fought side-by-side with now were what he guessed were the only remnants of the Australian Defense Forces in the whole of New South Wales. He'd heard rumors years ago that the Army had fragmentated after being spread so thin across the continent they weren't in any position to help anybody, not even themselves. And when the calls from command stopped coming down and all they received was static for nearly three days they finally decided to abandon the city of Sydney altogether and ferrying whatever survivors they could to safety brought them here to the opera house. It took them a few days but they had eventually managed to get the place locked down tight and the defenses were then built up steadily over the years to what they were now.
And looking around at the dead as they shambled forward en mass, Mike knew it just wouldn't be enough to stop them all. They had some guns and a fair bit of ammunition stored up after raiding some of the nearby military bases and outposts near and around the city, but after a while and without decent transport and the fuel to spare they hadn't been able to travel far North or South out of the city. Hell, they hadn't been able to get that old piece of junk of a ferry boat going either. The hull of the boat was sound enough, barring some path work here and there, the only problem had been the engine that had been neglected maintenance and use over the last half a decade.
A rapid popping from his right caught his attention and spotted the only female volunteer firing her pistol into the horde. This was Officer Janice Wilks, a veteran police officer for the New South Wales police stationed in Sydney for the last eighteen years and the last five of those fighting the undead to keep her people safe. She fired her Glock 22, spacing her shots and most of the time scoring head shots and putting them down quickly and efficiently. Like Mike, she had been here early on in the day they started forming this place from the ground up. She had arrived in her police cruiser with a Heckler & Koch UMP40 submachine gun and wearing a blood-stained uniform in the middle of the night. After a brief stand-off against the soldiers she explained that she wasn't bitten and she'd only just managed to escape the city hours earlier and had been hiding in the wooded area nearby and waited until dark to try escaping the city. It had been chaos she told them, she had been responding to multiple calls all morning as mass hysteria began taking grip of the city and it hadn't even been midday when the air sirens began whirring to life. The military had been rolling out and she had been alone then, her partner had been killed an hour or so earlier when she had hidden from them as they began sweeping through the streets, killing those things as more Army arrived with their tanks and armored vehicles.
But by the evening as the sun began to set, they were forced to retreat and she had no choice but to escape the city. Janice had lost contact with police headquarters and any other hails she made to other units either went ignored or lost in a sea of other officers or the other emergency services begging for help over the radio. She tried to make sense of the whole thing, but it was the same thing over and over again. By the end of her shift, or when it was meant to have ended, she turned off her lights and radio before she drove her patrol vehicle through the city that was beginning to fall and burn as the lights started flickering and whatever survivors she saw were running scared.
Over the years Mike wondered if her leaving the city played on her mind a bit. She had been withdrawn from the others but pulled her weight and readily helped the others with guard duty, cooking, cleaning and even with the garden they had set up near the waterfront. He had tried talking to her before but she always brushed him off and went about her day by keeping herself busy. She even went on supply runs, sometimes with the group but a lot of the time she did it alone too. Sometimes she struck gold, and would return with a new trailer attached to her police cruiser that was loaded to the brim with supplies and materials they desperately needed. Other times she would come back with less than what she took out with her and could only apologize and promise to do better next time.
With the Benelli empty, he quickly grabbed the M4A5 that was sitting on the gantry floorboards beside him and fired down into the gathering. He fired a full magazine off in two seconds before he had to reload. He knew they couldn't keep this up forever, they only had so much ammo left and with their being only a handful of them the defense was spread too thinly along the barricade. He wished how they had either a flamethrower or even a single belt-fed machine gun. Hell, he'd have settled for a have dozen hand grenades just to break up these fucking towers a little.
It was then when the gantry began to shudder slightly and noticed how the weight of the dead pushing against the large barricade was beginning to make the structure falter.
"Pull Back! Pull back now!" he shouted as he quickly gathered what he could from the ammunition box beside where he'd grabbed the M4, three spare magazines, and used the ladder and quickly slid down it as the others slid down their own. It was beginning to shake all over now and inside the opera house he could see the survivors that were inside were quickly gathering their things now. He would have been shouting at them to gather whatever supplies they could instead of clothes and other possessions, if they used the few rowing boats they had to escape and being loaded down by what they could get somewhere else instead of food and medicine made then sink, he was gonna be pretty dang pissed.
"I'm down to three mags," one of the regulars said as he slapped another magazine into his F88 while Janice looked at her own ammunition supply, "Three rounds left in this mag, one more magazine then I'm empty."
"Here," he said and gave the M4 to Janice, who gratefully accepted the carbine and extra magazines as he withdrew his Glock 19 and made it ready as the first of the survivors started pouring out of the opera house entrance and towards the waterfront and towards the moored boats, "We've got to hold the line as long as we can. If they break through it won't take them long to spread out and we'll lose everything. Do whatever you can to buy the others time," and the other gave firm nods of acknowledgment, "Anybody seen Cynthia?"
"She's either coordinating to escape or up in the radio room. If she is then she isn't going to able to get outta there in time," Janice said as she slung the sling for the carbine around her shoulder and readied herself for the inevitable.
"Probably trying to call for help. Whoever she's trying to call though I don't-" the soldier's explanation was cut short when they heard something approaching from a far-off distance and it was the sound of something they hadn't heard for the last few years.
High above, maybe a mile up, they saw a pair of fast aircraft shooting overheard. Mike couldn't make out the outlines from their height, but they could have been either American F-22's or F-35's. They watched for a few brief moments as the two aircraft slowly began to bank around at high altitude and then began circling them. Nobody was sure what to make of it or what their intentions were, but their immediate priority turned to the barricade when it started to bulge and buckle.
"Get ready folks. These fuckers are coming through!" Mike barked and readied his pistols as Janice set up beside him and the others spread out. The evacuation was still on going to the boats and none had even cast off yet, "Christ Sake! Hurry the fuck up!" he shouted and noticed several of them moving a lost faster, "Lazy, slow fucks!"
The first section of the barricade began to falter and several sheets of steel paneling fell and clashed on the ground. It only took a second before the first of the arms prying to get through forced through the gap-
"From the right!" came a sudden shout. Mike had heard the scream and thought the dead had made their way through another way but when he heard the high-pitched whining of another engine approaching, he turned and his face of shock and horror was turned upside down into a grin. Coming in low and fast and aligning its nose with the barricade was an American A-10 Thunderbolt II and behind it maybe a mile out was another pair of A-10's.
The ground attack aircraft's cannon opened fire, and the loud report ripped overhead and terrified the people trying to climb into the boats. Mike had seen A-10's when he'd been in the Middle East destroying ground targets when working alongside the Limey's and the Yanks, but seeing one this close was both terrifying and so fucking relieving at the same time. The 30mm rounds poured from the cannon and slammed into the rotting bastards on the other side of the broken barricade and watched as the arms reaching through were vaporized by the high explosive rounds and what could have once been blood sprayed through the gaps.
The first A-10 broke contact, and pulled up sharply just as the second and third aircraft fired their weapons together. They poured more 30mm mayhem onto what they guessed had to be a larger horde than they had expected. Once the aircraft had made their first run, they pulled up and banked around in opposite directions with one heading towards the city and another heading out back over the bay. It had been Janice that caught his attention then, her face transfixed on something that they were now beginning to make out approaching them from towards the ocean.
He'd seen some funky aircraft in his years as an operator, but whatever these things were, they were something unbeknownst to him. The first looked like your standard run of the mill helicopter, but the design was different and as it approached, he was able to make out some details but saw no identifying markers for their unit or country of origin. But with the A-10's and the other jets, these two aircraft and how they had the firepower to dump on the dead meant they were from a heavily organized bunch.
The helicopter was soon overhead with the other aircraft, one he recognized as a V-280 Valor, flew past the helicopter and circled around the opera house twice before hovering directly over the steps leading up to the main building and the group watched as repelling lines were thrown out the back of the VTOL, and within moments of the lines touching the ground a dozen heavily armed individuals touched down on the ground. The propellers were covering any noise they made touching down, but watching these people hit the ground feet first in heavily armored boots could hear them mentally and the deep thud they were making. Nobody recognized them, but they all wore near perfect matching outfits; armored boots, body armor, black BDU's and helmets with respirators attached and what could have been headset radios. But what mattered were their armaments; belt-fed machine guns, rotary grenade launchers and Mike saw several armed with 7.62mm battle rifles and vests bulging with magazines and hand grenades.
"Who the-? What the fuck?" Janice whispered. If the helicopter that was now also dropping lines for more troops to repel down had been any closer, he was sure he wouldn't have heard her.
"Don't know, as long as they're here to help us and not kill us, I don't care either," one of the soldiers sighed with relief when the mysterious 'men in black' began setting up a firing line along the perimeter towards the failing barricade and when the first of the next wave began to move through the breech in the wall only a single gunshot rang out.
The helicopter and VTOL began moving away from the airspace directly above the opera house and began circling the area. Mike was confused to what they were doing until gunfire started raining down from both circling aircraft into the hordes below them outside the barricade when the familiar whine of the A-10 engines began to get louder and make their presence known. The soldier was worried for a moment thinking that the two aircraft circling the building were going to be hit by incoming fire, not to mention the unknown soldiers that had set-up the firing line atop the steps to the main entrance into the opera house until he heard 'whooshing' noises that were quickly followed by explosions beyond the barricade in the gardens.
Multiple explosions ripped through the gardens a few hundred meters ahead of them past the barricade, and saw as rockets and air-to-ground missiles were detonating and blowing apart the larger groups of undead. As before, the A-10's banked and quickly flew in opposite directions. At first Mike thought they were going to perform another run until they watched the helicopter and the VTOL both quickly bank around and flew back towards the shore as quickly as possible.
"GET THE FUCK DOWN!" a rough voice roared. The call had come from the unknown soldiers from the line defending the barricade as they fell back quickly before dropping to the ground. What happened next took his breath away. Somebody slammed into his side, both of them crashing down to the ground and not even a second had passed before a powerful shockwave hit him.
For a few seconds he thought he had lost his sense of hearing, until the erupting explosion broke through the deafening silence. Whatever had been dropped had caused the aircraft to high tale it as quickly as possible away from the detonation site and the soldiers to drop to the ground and cover their heads and ears despite their head protection. He waited and dared not move for several seconds until the weight on top of him removed itself and he heard, faintly, what sound like somebody talking.
"The fuck was that they dropped?!"
"Those idiots! Danger-fucking-Close I said! Are they fucking stupid?!"
"I would have asked are they deaf," Mike coughed on dust that was engulfing them, "Christ knows I am now."
"Are you alright?" the mysterious soldier asked, gingerly laying a hand on his shoulder, "You injured?"
"Nah, I'm good," he then turned his attention towards the sounds of screaming that were now reaching him from the boats, "Shit! I've gotta go check on them!"
The masked operative watched the Australian soldier scramble to his feet a few moments after getting his bearings and stumble briefly before he hobbled and then jogged in the direction of where they had seen the boats loaded with survivors slowly rowing out on the water.
"Have those Marines hurry up with the LCAC's! We have people in desperate need of picking up and we may not be able to hold this position for much longer!"
"Understood, Captain. Be advised, the Warthog's are making a final run on the infected's position before they R-T-B for refueling and a rearming."
"Copy that. What's the news on the Marine ground team's arrival?"
"Charlie and Delta squads are en route and should be with you in three mikes."
"Let their escort birds know we'll need continued covering fire after the teams have been dropped off. From the looks of things, we're gonna be here a while," when he noticed the large surge of creatures now emerging from the gardens to the south. He checked his weapon and made sure it was ready to fire when he heard the A-10's approaching for their final gun run. While the MOAB that had been dropped and taken out easily a few hundred of the creatures, there were many more that needed dealing with.
Tokonosu Naval & Air Base – "The Floating Island"
Hanger 18 – CSFG (Combined Special Forces Group) Operations Center,
Tokonosu Prefecture,
Japan
Kohta was sitting at his desk as he worked on his laptop and writing up his reports from the week before when he had been out on his third successful operation with the CSFG and alongside Andrew-San and the other operators that originally made the backbone of the force in unit SCEPTER-1. The first two operations had been just as smooth, but hadn't resulted in locating any survivors or any supplies unfortunately. The third time they'd been out was more successful, and Kohta had finally proved himself in a fight against a sizable force of undead.
With the city of Tokonosu thoroughly picked clean of supplies and survivors, the group had been branching out of the city and towards greener pastures. Along the southern coastline of Japan there were many small villages, towns and several cities they could search for both. And their arrival on the outskirts of the city Shizuoka hadn't gone unnoticed. With their SB-1 Defiant and the V-280 Valor both on deployment with the other teams down near the Solomon Islands with the remnants of the Seventh Fleet, they had been forced to make use of a V-22 Osprey. None of the other operators had been fond of the idea of flying around in this particular VTOL, but with the other long-range transport aircraft being used elsewhere they had to grit their teeth and bear with it.
They had all gotten a great view of Mount Fuji off in the distance while passing over Miho no Matsubara beach while the pilots had turned the V-22 from airplane to helicopter mode and they brought the aircraft in on a steady flight over the outskirts of the city and towards the docks. There were a few ships still anchored and moored around the site with two of the larger vessels seemingly scuttled, on purpose or otherwise was unknown. The pilots dropped them off nearer one of the larger Import/Export buildings where the shutters were wide open and the noise they'd made brought out several walking husks that the teams quickly dispatched as they stood in a defensive line opposite the warehouse before the Osprey departed and would maintain a holding pattern until they were ready to depart, but taking both Jimu-San and Rika-San with them as they would be acting door gunners if they had a hot extraction.
The young operative had been outfitted with his own set of the black armor the others wore. Black BDU's with heavily woven steel wire in the forearms and thighs with extra protection with a neck shield, wrist and ankle guards and above all a ballistic vest beneath their load-bearing vests. The 'head piece' was like something out of a sci-fi movie when he first got his own, but upon closer examination and some explanation from the guys that made them explained they joined both the ballistic helmet with the gas masks they wore that also had a built-in radio for fast communication with the other team mates. All in all, he was really impressed with his equipment and stop typing his report to turn around in his chair and look the suit over that was laid out on his bed after he'd finished cleaning and maintaining it.
"How's the report coming along?" James' voice came from the door. The SEAL operative was leaning against the door and watching him closely before he turned and looked to the suit as well, "Everything fit and work okay with that thing?"
"Hai, everything's fine. Just having a moment before continuing with this report."
"Okay, well, no need to go into over-the-top detailing. Andy's got the stew on the go and it should be ready really soon," the man chuckled.
"Oh Kami," Kohta grumbled, "Please tell him not to burn it this time," still remembering the terrible last attempt he'd made at trying to cook dinner alone.
"I'll try and breaking it to him gently," James said while pushing away from the door frame and his face blanched before ducking as something hit the spot where his head had been just moments earlier before a loud shout came from down the corridor.
"I CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU!"
"How?! From down there I'm surprised you can hear anything!"
"Somebody's left their radio on again," another voice called from down the corridor and Kohta winced when he looked to his helmet sitting on the table beside him and when he looked inside noticed the device was still broadcasting.
"Oh…crap."
"HEARD THAT TOO!"
"Then listen to this; don't burn dinner. Otherwise, I won't make those garlic noodles you like anymore," Kohta replied. But instead of Andrew-San, he received replies from everybody.
"Ohh, you go buddy!"
"Ahh! Not the garlic noodles! Those are the best with steak!"
The line was quiet them after a few moments before Andrew responded.
"Them's are fighting words, sir," the voice suddenly came from the door and Kohta peeked up to see Andrew-San stood at the door with a ladle in hand and pointed it at him, "Are you really willing to back them up? Because you do know that means you can't have them either. And I know how much you like them."
"I can make them. I have the means and the know-how," Kohta stood firmly with his statement.
"Oh, you may have the know-how, my friend," Andrew started and then devilishly smirked at him, "But the means? Maybe not for much longer."
"Why? What have you done?" the lad was suddenly on the edge of his seat.
"Because unless you get your arse down to that dinner table in the next few seconds, I'll have Tajima burn the garlic," and watched the newest member of the team quickly bolt from his chair at the table, down the corridor and towards the kitchen and dining area.
"That was a bit harsh, wasn't it?" James chuckled.
"May have been, a little," Andrew smiled at him, "But when it comes to having that lad eat his veggies under Saya's 'request', you make sure the little bastard eats his veggies."
"Oh, so you would miss the noodles too then?" the SEAL laughed.
"Never said I wouldn't miss 'em. Just threatened to burn the garlic we have now."
"And what are we having today then?"
"Oh, we've got stew," as they walked back towards the dining area where the teams were already assembling for dinner and saw the selection that was laid out including steaks and Kohta's garlic noodles, "But I never told Saya that we'd just be having the stew today."
The defensive line was holding. The A-10's had chewed through a significant number of the creatures emerging from the city as the first LCAC had arrived and started taking survivors aboard. The second wasn't far behind and the troops on the ground were now receiving support from both helicopters and guns aboard the USS Bonhomme 'Bonnie Dick' Richard, its Phalanx CIWS guns chewing through the horde as hundreds of 20mm rounds tore through them within a few seconds. Since the cannons were designed with destroyed anti-ship missiles and rockets, a one-second blast from the weapon just for testing would cost around 60-rounds and with the ship holding in excess of 150,000 rounds in storage in the munitions storage it wouldn't take long to burn through it all if push came to shove.
The aircraft taking off and dumping their munitions on the targets were flying out from the USS George Washington. The large aircraft carrier had to stay off shore as it wasn't capable of traversing the channel like the 'Bonnie Dick' could, but it was instrumental in providing continued support for the A-10's and the F-35's with refuelling and reloading.
Mike fired the Glock into the wash of bodies approaching them after he joined the line of black clad soldiers and watched as these men and women, whoever they were, continuously dump belts, magazines and grenades into the walls of diseased monsters and weren't faltering as some got too close for comfort. He was offered the use of a stubby shotgun but waved the offer off. His arms were already feeling numb after all of the rounds he'd fired off over the last hour and he was surprised he was even still standing.
"Changing!" one of the soldiers roared over the gunfire and set down a SIG-Sauer MG338 machine gun and started removing the empty cloth-pouch magazine and started to replace it with another when Mike was quickly in their space and fired the Glock. Ahead where the soldier had been covering, a single creature had forced its way towards them and nearly reached the line when the SASR squaddie had dumped several rounds into its face and body.
"Thanks buddy!" the masked soldier nodded his thanks and quickly loaded the belt into his weapon and was back in the fight.
"Word's come down the line! We're to fall back immediately!" another soldier clad head-to-toe in body armor appeared and immediately ordered the others.
"Bad!?"
"Very bad! Air assets spotted a large horde, ten-thousand plus approaching from the city! We need to fall back now and get the last of the survivors on the boats!"
The solider receiving the orders keyed his radio and for one moment everybody stopped shooting and listened to the following order, "Mad minute! Everything you got and fall back to the boats! Go!"
The Australian had heard the term before, but hadn't ever seen it used in combat. The line of soldiers all suddenly shouldered their weapons and topping off with fresh magazines and let it rip. At the same time as all of them standing on the line opened fire with automatic fire, a long stream of 20mm and staggered 25mm shots coming from the ship hammered the undead horde. Overhead, the A-10's let loose with their 30mm cannons and unloaded nearly half of their magazines along with the last of their rockets and bombs.
He was sure the gardens were all torn to shreds now and the soil was coated with blood, guts and unidentified gore. Mike turned and bolted towards the shore before the soldiers started falling back with him. Passing alongside the main building of the opera house he could see the when he looked back just how many there really were approaching. He wasn't sure, but at a quick glance he was pretty dang sure there was more than a few thousand approaching their position.
"Keep going for the boats! The last of the survivors are getting onboard now!" a shout came from behind him and he turned back to see the soldier with the SIG-Sauer MMG right behind him…and nearly a hundred or so creatures already past the position they'd been holding not thirty seconds earlier and now bounding towards them.
"On our rear!" he called and threw his arm back and fired the remaining rounds from the Glock as the soldier fired the last of the belt from the machine gun and when the last thirty rounds or so had been expired, dropped the priceless weapon and withdrew their own sidearm and fired rapidly before turning and catching up to him a few moments later.
"Freaky bastards don't know when to quit!"
"Don't worry," the soldier huffed beneath their mask, "We've got support incoming!" and they pointed towards the sound of approaching helicopter blades and it took a glance from Mike to see the approaching Blackhawk helicopter's door gunner already spooling up the barrels on the minigun before a stream of lead burst from the weapon and sprayed their pursuers.
The LCAC was just up ahead now and it was being protected by the black-clad soldiers with heavy weapons and Mike spotted a dozen or more US Marines wearing their MARPAT uniforms and wielding Heckler & Koch M27's and a few with M249-E4 SAW's backing them up. He also spotted Janice waiting nearby with them, her weapon raised and towards the opera house's exit. Mike stopped in his tracks and wasted a few valuable seconds to see what she was aiming at.
Cynthia…and her arm was bleeding and held an empty Browning .380 pistol in her hand. The woman peered up to him and their exchanged looks said everything.
She'd been bitten, and there was nothing they could do for her. Tears were already streaming down her cheeks as she focused on him and gently smiled, "Go."
"No," he shook his head, "Not without you," and then looked desperately at Janice who already knew the score, but the former Sydney cop couldn't bring herself to say anything, and he turned back to her, "We can help you; they can help you."
"Can't treat a bite, Mikey," her words may have been covered by the helicopter and A-10's thundering overhead but he could hear them clear as anything.
Behind her the doors to the opera house burst open and several stumbling figures moved towards her. The line of men faltered for a brief moment as Cynthia was stood between the groups.
"Cynthia! Move!"
But all the woman did was smile at him and removing the hand from the wound that was already beginning to turn a deep shade of purple, dropped the empty pistol and from a pouch on her hip revealed one of the last few hand grenades that he thought they had used up. She looked back at the infected that emerged from the building and he realised when he looked at them who they were.
They had been the people that they had been protecting. The few poor bastards that had been unfortunate enough to get themselves infected when their outbreak occurred only hours earlier.
"Go," she said and this time it was a lot clearer, "I said go!"
Mike wanted to rush towards her, embrace her even if just for a moment before he felt powerful arms clasp themselves around him and started pulling him towards the awaiting LCAC as the Marines opened fire on the infected that approached from both sides around the building just as Cynthia turned around and pulled the pin from the grenade and walk towards the group they had failed to protect and dropped to her knees as she held the grenade out towards them as though it was a peace offering.
"No! Cynthia! Cynthia!" he screamed as the first of the dead reached her and dropped down in front of her and sunk its teeth into her neck.
"Get him down here now!" another voice yelled.
"CYNTHIA!"
"GET DOWN YOU DUMB CUN-" but the scream was interrupted by the grenade detonation as the anchor woman was engulfed not only by the dead but the explosion that ripped through them and white-hot metal heading straight for them as the shockwave knocked them all over.
Several hours later…
The task force fleet had set course back towards Tokonosu hours later after the survivors that had been taken aboard the USS Bonhomme Richard and USS George Washington were tested for infection and those that didn't show signs of any mutagenic changes or alterations were given a clean bill of health, several were put into quarantine for several hours until the incubation period had run its course. During the escape however with two operators from SCEPTER-3 had been wounded from fragmentation shrapnel from the grenade the Australian anchor woman had used to kill herself with when she was encircled by several infected colleagues and other survivors she had known for years. Members from SCEPTER-4 retrieved the wounded while SCEPTER-3 continued to lay down heavy weapons fire with the Marines assisting. It was later understood from first-hand accounts they had witnessed the two operators that had been wounded had been trying to stop an Australian soldier from killing himself when he tried to stop the woman from killing herself with the grenade when the explosion occurred.
Setting down the short print of the after-action report Souichiro Takagi released a frustrated groan that sounded between heavy breathing and growling. Right now, the Prime Minister had been awoken in the middle of the night to hear this report from his aid but she had been shaking with upset that he could barely understand her. After he had arrived in the Council Chambers and sat down with two other members of the Council and they started receiving reports when the ships had been within range to send messages, he had finally been given the whole picture.
"Oh god," he finally vented, "Tell me they have doctors and surgeons aboard those ships," he asked.
"The carrier does have Marine medical personnel aboard but nobody I'm aware of with the correct equipment to carry out procedure requiring surgery. Prime Minister, as of yet aside from what's in the report we haven't been able to ascertain whether or not their injuries were mortal or injuries," Doctor Arashi Mikami replied, "What is the range of lethality of a hand grenade, Colonel?"
"Depends of the make, model, location of manufacture and how old it was," Colonel Yoji Nishkiyama replied, "If the grenade was a modern M-67 that most of our forces use now then the lethal range is five meters. Wounded up to fifteen, so hopefully, with the infected being between them and their armored uniforms catching a large portion of the blast then they should be okay."
"Are there differences with the make and where they were manufactured?" the doctor asked as Souichiro listened closely.
"Every country on the planet has made and used different models of grenades over the last hundred years or so, Doctor. Some of the earliest had wooden grips that you could use to throw it towards the enemy and some could be made from tin cans or pipes if the user was competent enough to build them from scratch. At the end of the day, if it goes 'boom' and either seriously wounds or kills what you threw it at, it's a grenade."
"The report doesn't mention a make, but let's prepare for it to be worse case scenario," Arashi said and looked to the Prime Minister, "If you order it sir, I can have my surgical team ready and waiting for their return if the wounded require emergency surgery."
"Have the team on standby, Doctor, but let's not cause a panic about this if it can be helped," Takagi asked, "If the injured do require surgery and are seen being brought back aboard medical transport and its discovered to be members of the Scepter teams, it could cause a moral issue."
"We can have a helicopter prepared for you to be taken aboard the carrier with equipment if needed," the Colonel offered, "While you get yourself prepared, I'll have word sent along and have a Chinook prepared for you and waiting on the rooftop helipad."
Both men looked to the Prime Minister for confirmation for the go ahead and he gave it without hesitation, "I would like to be kept up to date with their conditions if we receive more information. And if you see them, please inform the other council members of the situation. Also, have Doctor Yamane and his team put on standby as well to assist."
"Yes sir," the doctor stood and quickly left the room while the Colonel remained in his chair and looked to be pondering about something.
"Do you think we should inform the other teams?"
"I understand that Scepter-Two are on operational readiness right now, team One are on leave for the next twenty-four hours," Souichiro sighed, "And I wouldn't want to the one to inform Andrew-San of what's happened."
"Agreed," the Colonel replied and sat up in his chair until he looked to the Prime Minister and for a split moment froze until he noticed the man was holding a finger to his nose and smirking at him, "Oh, come on, Souichiro-San, that's not fair."
"Hai…Hai…understood, I'll be on my way shortly," Shizuka spoke softly into the radio as she stood across the far side of the room from the bed where her husband slept, "How long until we can expect them to arrive?"
"Within the hour, Marikawa-San. They've sent ahead the wounded aboard a helicopter and they'll arrive a few hours ahead of the fleet. One of the ships, the Bonhomme Richard, has been having trouble with the engines and the ship's commander couldn't afford to wait any longer to get the wounded help."
"Should I tell Andrew-San?" she asked a little quieter as she heard his breathing alter slightly, knowing something had disturbed him.
"I wouldn't. Colonel Nishkiyama will call a general meeting with all of the special forces groups in the morning and explain the situation in full when they arrive. For now, let him sleep."
"Ofcourse, Doctor. I'll be along shortly. Do we have any up-to-date information about the injuries of those being brought in?"
"Some with lacerations, fractures and concussions. Two others with serious injuries from a fragmentation grenade. The medics aboard the ship managed to keep them stabilized for a while but they say their condition is worsening. So, there may be some internal bleeding."
"I'll be there soon. Make sure that we have access to blood for transfusions as well as saline. Make sure all the surgical equipment is cleaned as well and go over the check-list just to make sure we don't miss anything."
Shizuka ended the call as she slowly walked back over towards the bed as her husband was slowly coming around and he was starting to lean up on his elbow when she crouched down beside him and gently brushed her fingers through his hair, "It's alright, my dear. It's okay. I had a call from the surgery and asked if I could come in a little earlier to assist with a procedure."
"Somethin' bad?" he asked tiredly as his head hit the pillow but his eye opened to look up at her.
"I don't believe so. Someone had an accident in the terminal earlier and they just want a second opinion," she said. She wasn't fond of lying to her beloved, but when it was a serious situation regarding men from the teams then she knew best to keep quiet until somebody that had all the information gave him an update. She would rather seek forgiveness later for lying to him than have him sick with worry and thinking the worst-case scenario when he seriously needed the rest.
"Want me to walk you over?" he asked as he looked at the clock and then back to her.
She smiled at his thoughtfulness but gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead instead, "I'll be alright. I'm meeting with Maria on the way there anyway. She got called in too…looking after another patient in the clinic who had a tumble yesterday," she quickly added when she nearly let slip about her being the only one called in. Even if the man was half asleep, she knew he could easily pick up on these things pretty quickly.
"Besides, you need to stay here and look after the girls in case they wake up. I should be back earlier if I'm starting early so, we'll hopefully be able to have lunch together."
"Alright, luv. I'll see you later," he then yawned, "Stay safe," Andrew added as he gently clasped her hand with his and she felt the warmth spreading through to her and she smiled before reluctantly letting go once he'd fallen asleep.
Shizuka knew the walk from their apartment in the underground sleeping quarters was only a short walk to the clinic and surgery they had turned into a fully equipped operating theater, so she had plenty enough time before the helicopter arrived. She had a quick shower and allowed the hot water to rinse through her hair and down her body and remove any lingering smell of the night before and after drying herself changed into her nurse's scrubs and white tennis shoes.
Before she left however, she walked towards the closet and pulled it open to remove a small pouch from within and opened it up slowly. A SIG-Sauer P230, a gift that her husband had given her two years earlier after he had returned from the United Kingdom following a three-month return operation with the SAS to help reclaim a town that had fallen victim to a raider group and been held under their control for nearly a year. He'd told her that it was a pistol he'd left behind some years ago in his old house and during the journey back to Japan had spent nearly every waking moment cleaning it and making sure it was properly functional before taking her to the shooting range with it one day and presented it to her.
Shizuka would admit that it had been a little unnerving to begin with as she had never liked things that could hurt or kill people, but at the same time understood now that these things were worth more that money and would help protect not only herself but her family if the need ever arose.
She pulled on the belt that she normally wore when she was on duty at the clinic that had an attached velcro holster for the compact pistol and made sure she had at least two spare magazines along with her radio and identity card. As she finished tying up her hair into a ponytail, she looked in on the girls quickly and saw that Akane had once again snuggled up with Alice and Zeke lying on top of the sheets between them. She slowly closed the door again before she walked across the room and made her way out into the corridor, sparing her husband one final glance before closing it and locking up and heading off to what was sure to be a long day.
Shizuka arrived at the corridor to the clinic not long after leaving the apartment. The terminal building was normally quiet at night and the only people that were usually on duty were either the cleaning staff and the islands' defence forces. She had spotted that cooks were already awake and figured they had come on early to get breakfast going for the people coming off the night shifts and getting ready for the change-over. There were numerous medical professionals waiting for the helicopter to arrive with the injured aboard but walking past them and towards the operating theater and clinic she saw there were several nurses and trainees working alongside them to make sure that everything was prepared.
She spotted both Doctor's Kyohei Yamane and Arashi Mikami preparing for surgery and were both dressed in their scrubs and face shields and gloves as their assistants were going over last-minute checks to make sure all of their equipment was on stand-by and drugs were being prepared in syringes too.
"I want to make sure we have gurneys ready for anybody that comes off the transport that can't walk. Those with the most serious injuries will be seen by us, anybody with fractures and cuts and bruising will have to be treated by the others," she heard Doctor Yamane say through his mask as he looked over the details of their incoming patients.
"What about anybody with head injuries? I understand we have one coming in with severe cut on the scalp," Doctor Mikami said after looking at the same report.
"If the wound is worse than we've been led to believe then we'll do what we can to treat them also. But the patients that have the most sever conditions will have to be treated first."
"Understood, Doctor," Arashi replied before looking up and spotting Shizuka standing in the doorway, "Ahh, Marikawa-San! Thank you for coming down here so quickly and on short notice!"
"It's alright, Doctor," she greeted him, "Have we had a situation update on the injured being brought in?"
"Nothing seems to have changed in the last hour since we had the report come through. Both the U-S-S Bonhomme Richard and George Washington are heading back here as quickly as possible but the critically injured that couldn't be given the help they needed aboard the ships and were sent on ahead."
Just as Arashi finished speaking an SDF officer appeared at the door and was greeted by Doctor Yamane. The two quickly conversed and the two could only wait and watch before the soldier left and the Chief Surgeon's head bowed as he skim-read the file and sighed heavily before turning to face them.
"One of the critically injured being transported here passed away five minutes ago. The medics onboard believe that it might have been due to internal bleeding, but they weren't able to confirm this for sure."
"Shit," Arashi cursed, "How much longer until the transport arrives?"
"Ten minutes. They should be within visual range soon. Let's get those extra hands ready."
The V-280 came in hard and fast. The medical team on the rooftop helipad had all been awaiting the return of their people, but not like this. The pilots onboard must have been desperate to get their team mates back to get treated right away for their reckless flying. The Valor came around and the engines tilted so the aircraft performed an almost perfect 180-degree turn and put the ramp that was already lowering facing the medical team that had all ducked down in fear of being hit by either the backwash from the engines or the aircraft itself. Within seconds a pair of gurneys were rolling down the ramp with the two critically injured already being seen to by a pair of medics from the Scepter teams but they were quickly relinquished into the medical teams' hands once details of their injuries were explained.
"And this fucktard," one of the masked operatives threw a cuffed male down the ramp and onto the helipad before drawing their sidearm, "Is the prick responsible for getting one of our people killed and two others seriously injured. Don't be too gentle with him!" he growled through the voice filter before storming off after their two men being wheeled away towards the express elevator.
On the ground the men wearing the remnants of an Australian military outfit lay wheezing after being given a swift kick in the ribs before being throw from the Valor and now a ring of soldiers, the same soldiers that not a day earlier had saved not only his life but of nearly a hundred others, held their rifles ready and some had itchy trigger fingers to unload their magazines into this man. His actions had put three operatives in harms way to save his life when the woman he'd known and fallen for had sacrificed herself after she'd been infected and he'd tried to stop her from killing herself. Everybody knew that once infected there was no going back, and by putting lives in the line of fire and getting one killed now put a target on his head.
"Stand down!" a voice called from the elevator and approaching footsteps stopped a few feet from where he lay.
"This bastard's responsible for getting one of ours killed," an angered voice spoke directly above him.
"And if we discover his actions are indeed responsible for the death of Scepter-Three-Three…, for David's death, then we'll make sure he is held accountable. Until then, he'll be held in holding until he's processed and then questioned."
"We don't need an interrogation; we'll all testify against him. This selfish fucker-"
"I get it!" the voice stopped the other, "I do, but we have rules in place for such things. We're not bandits or murders, we're soldiers. And if he's found guilty of any crime, he'll be made accountable for his actions."
The soldier on the ground between the group that wanted him dead and this new arrival could feel the hostility in the air between them but it was directed mainly towards him. For several long seconds there were no words until more footsteps approaching were heard and standing with the man who right now was saving him.
"Get this man some medical assistance. And when you're done, have him taken to holding."
"If you let him off, Scepter-Three walks!" a group of angered voices came a moment later and a group of footsteps passed them by and towards the elevator.
A few tense moments passed before the soldier heard the man sigh before he bent down beside him, "C'mon buddy, let's get you some help."
With some grunting and heaving, the Australian soldier was brought up to his feet and came face-to-face with the man who defended him, "Thank you…?"
"Chief Petty Officer Jimmy C******s. Wished our meeting was under better circumstances. Now, let's get you checked out."
Several hours would pass and a second life would be lost on the operating table when complications arose during surgery on Scepter-Three-Five; Damien Malloy, a former US Delta Force operative who caught several fragments of shrapnel in the neck and armpit. The news would hit the Scepter teams hard and many knew that the loss of two operators would be a severe blow to morale of not only the military but the civilian population too and make them panic too. If the military couldn't protect themselves then how were they going to keep them safe?
The USS George Washington and USS Bonhomme Richard would return soon afterwards with the carrier now toeing the Wasp-Class troop carrier the last length of the journey. For weeks now Commander Chandler had been receiving reports from the engineering teams that the ship had been running up towards it's refitting that would have taken her out of service for a number of months, perhaps years originally, but now with the engines causing them problems he had no choice now but to have the ship anchored and allow the maintenance teams to drain the system and start pulling the engine apart to repair her.
"How long can we expect the Bonhomme Richard to be out of commission for?" Takagi asked as he sat at the head of the table, this time with a full council meeting taking place. Commander Tom Chandler sat across from him beside Colonel Yoji Nishkiyama and General Isoroku Ihara and other representatives of the military wing.
"Given the time she's been at sea and with their being a sever lack of resources, spare parts and people able to repair the ship," he then sighed heavily before saying, "It could be as long as two years before she's fully operational again."
"Two years!? We can't possibly allocate all of our engineering personnel to one ship for two years!" one of the civilian council members protested.
"I said it could take up to two years, not that it would. And we're doing this with a team of maybe, what? Forty people in total where as before we would have had the ship in a dry-dock, more than two-thousand people working on the ship for a full year! We don't have the facilities here for dry-docking as well as repairing and keeping it and the people safe. We would need a full-staffed naval base to do so, so we've got to make the best with what we have here!"
The room was quiet for a few moments before Doctor Mikami spoke up, "We've completed our tests on the survivors brought back from Sydney, sir," before shuffling through his notes, "All of them are in good health, a little malnourished but otherwise none of them are infected and able to move around under their own strength."
"And the soldier? The one that Scepter-Three's team leader accused of killing two of their operatives?"
"From what we've been able to gather from witness reports from Scepter-Four operatives as well as several Marines, he tried to stop a woman who was infected from killing herself with a fragmentation grenade. The three operatives that were caught in the blast tried to stop him from going to her and got hit with the worst of it when the blast occurred. So, while he wasn't directly responsible for their deaths, they could have been avoided."
"Awfully quick to find out this information, yes?"
"When the surviving operatives of Scepter-Three were ready to hang him, we needed to find out exactly what happened. And comparing the witness reports all but those from Scepter-Three matched."
"With two operatives dead, and a third's life hanging but by a thread it's no surprise they want to blame somebody."
"What is the current status of Scepter-Three?" Takagi asked.
"With them down by three men they're being put into stand-down status for the foreseeable future until such a time new recruits join them or they'll be absorbed into the other teams."
"And what do we tell the population if word gets out?" councilwoman Yuuki Sagiri asked from the other end of the conference table, all eyes looking to her, "It will only be a matter of time before the Australian refugees mix with the island's population and word will quickly spread of how they were rescued."
"We may have no choice but to tell the people the truth. Keeping secrets or distorting the truth of what happened will only make things worse," Yuriko spoke from beside her husband as they clasped hands beneath the table from everybody's view, "We'll make an announcement tomorrow morning when the refugees are introduced, but make it clear that they are not at fault for the deaths of the Scepter operatives."
"Captain Anderson won't be happy with that outcome," Colonel Nishkiyama sighed but nodded, "I'll have I-D-F forces keep an eye on them to make sure they stay away from the Australian soldier."
"I'll make a call to Scepter-One and have them put back into operational status for the time being alongside teams Two and Four for operational deployment over the next few weeks," Souichiro commented and realized he was about to make a couple of families very unhappy, but needs must for the many than the few, "General, Colonel; please have your S-D-F and I-D-F forces on standby. For the next few weeks, we're all going to be pretty busy and I want to make sure the transition with the refugees goes over smoothly but also ramping up operations with the future project."
"The men are already going through training drills that are underway and we have a new class of trainees already getting ready for the upcoming selection process for the S-D-F's Ranger team. Also, Poynton-San said that he's looking for a new recruit also from the new batch of recruits. After the success with Hirano-San joining the team they want to up their numbers."
The larger aircraft hangar wasn't as bad as they thought it would have been as they had been led to a small isolated area as the other refugee's were given their own little areas to isolate themselves for the next twenty-four hours until they had passed the incubation period. Kicking back on the cot they found it to be very comfortable and despite the 'walls' being made of tarp or plastic sheeting, found it to be much more comfortable and private than the room they had to share with the others back in Sydney. And while they did have a lot more freedom to move around and do their own thing back in Australia, the survivor had to admit it was nice being back home.
Author's Notes:
Howdy folks, hope y'all been well and taking care of yourselves. I had originally wanted this chapter out a lot sooner but life's being getting in the way, as usual this year, with both work and things going on at home. But hopefully 2021 will be a much better year than what we had all hoped with the new decade coming in with 2020.
Anyway, as you can see we're travelling around not only South-East Asia but also Oceania. As the story progresses i'm sure those of you reading this from the previous incarnation will know what's going to happen, but the means of getting there will be different. We'll be travelling around the world; the United States of America, the South Atlantic, the United Kingdom and many other locations still be to discovered and meeting many new people and characters.
I'm also going to be introducing a new character into the story as well and many chapters will be seen from their POV later in the story. This doesn't mean we won't be seeing any of the others, but a fresh perspective is always nice i think when you've been used to writing with the same characters for the last...eight years...fucking hell, has been a long time.
Anyway folks i hoped you enjoyed the new chapter. The next one i'm aiming for a later January release date so i can give you another full chapter to hopefully make up for the time it's taken for this one to come out. And if y'all be so kind; review, follow and favorite.
Please take care, stay safe and look after yourselves people and i hope that you all have either a Happy Christmas or a Happy Holiday!
Additional; thank you both to 'KinOnizuka' and 'FiremanJim' for your reviews.