Chapter 13: Hostilities
The Grangers and Harry made their way south in their old Estate. The motorway was strangely deserted; it was usually full of traffic moving between London and the North. In fact, they only saw one car travelling in the opposite direction, and a slow moving convoy of four large tanks on the back of low loaders which they passed at ten o'clock.
A military checkpoint stopped them around fifty yards short of a signpost that read 'Nottingham 12 miles'. In the distance on the left of the Motorway there was an eerie red skyline. Mr Granger got out of the car as two army helicopters passed overhead. He walked up to the TA officer who was in charge of the roadblock, and had a quick conversation. Harry shifted uneasily as the officer stared at him through the window, but he turned and continued talking. After five minutes, Mr Granger returned to the car, and informed them of what the officer had told him.
"They say it has got something to do with the wizards, but they are not saying what. I'm afraid we've to go up to Leeds, and drive down to Manchester and then back south. Sorry, that's all they told me." He looked pitifully at his daughter, who had been crying consistently the whole way down, and half-heartedly turned the car around, and headed north again to Leeds.
Carrick grumbled as he checked the battle plans, four radiation showers and just two hours sleep in thirty-six hours did not him the most pleasant guy to be around. Now the British army was engaged in its second operation against the wizards, a large full-scale assault involving more than a thousand of the best troops in Britain. Carrick wasn't bothered what his troops would do, they were the best in the world. He had eighty members of the 22nd Special Air Service, better known as the SAS, the worlds most experienced and decorated special forces, fresh from Sierra Leone, backed up by 500 members of the 2nd Parachute regiment, and another 600 men of the Welsh Guards. The SAS would go in first, securing the main streets, and then the rest would raid all the structures and secure the perimeter.
Carrick stared at the single entrance point. An abandoned, grotty looking shop that had an old 'for sale' sign over the window. Not exactly imposing, but superb camouflage. The SAS lined up either side of the entrance, their Steyr AUG assault rifles ready and loaded in their arms, and many various gadgets were spread across their black Kevlar/titanium armour. Down the shopping centre were the other soldiers, looking slightly out of place in their grey/black urban warfare uniforms. They too were ready, and Carrick checked his watch for the last time.
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"Go" he yelled.
"So," concluded John Major, at the end of the Security Council's meeting. "I will make the announcement tomorrow in Geneva to the rest of the UN. I am glad we all agree that these 'wizards' are a threat to international security, and we will have to neutralise them. Very well, I will see you all in Switzerland tomorrow, oh Bill, could you wait a while, and I need to have a word with you about the 'Powell.' The rest of the Premiers left the room, leaving just the British Prime Minister and the US President.
"Yes, John, I know that the Powell was destroyed by the wizards to try and create a war between our two nations, and I am relieved they failed, for your sake of course."
"Thank you Bill, but we are still unsure of what this 'black cloud' is, we know it is powerful, its already destroyed a seven thousand ton warship, and two top-of-the-range fighter jets. Our scientists still have no idea what it is."
"Yeah, still, I have to get some sleep, and I think you need some too, and, John, we are behind you guys, don't worry about that."
"Look, trust me, we can handle our problem, and you can sort out yours before we start on joint operations. In fact, a few minutes ago, we launched a second offensive against them."
"Hmm, you guys don't hang around, do you? Good luck John." The two men shook hands, and the US President left the conference room. John sat down, took out another bottle of brandy, and thought whether or not to become an alcoholic.
A/N, sorry its short, but its there, so don't get annoyed. Please review, please, come on, I'm British for heavens sake.