CHAPTER 7

STRIKE!

Two nights later

"Y'know, we're making some real progress here," I remarked.

It was late at night, almost 2am, and I was working with Larry on deciphering a document he had downloaded from Celgro's computers. Okay, so he was doing all the work, and I was sitting around watching, trying to help. Like I said before, computers weren't really my thing.

"You mean, I'm making progress, and you're just refilling my coffee cup every now and then."

"Ouch, that hurt, really."

"Speaking of which, I could use another cup right about now."

"Coming right up. But don't get too comfortable with this, you hear, I'm not your maid or anything."

Suddenly, my mobile phone rang loudly, startling both of us. I checked the caller ID screen, and blinked in surprise.

"It's Mike," I told Larry.

"Serious? Well, you better answer it before it wakes the whole house up."

"Hello?"

In the background, wherever Mike was, I could hear gunfire. A lot of gunfire. I was momentarily surprised, I mean, gunfire isn't the first thing you expect to hear when you answer the phone in the middle of the night. But I had a sinking feeling that I knew exactly where Mike was, and what he was doing.

"Rebecca!" He was screaming to be heard. "We need your help! Shit, we're in deep trouble…!"
"Where the hell are you?"

"At Celgro HQ… Parkville!" he replied.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…"

"We walked into an ambush! Can you hear me? We walked into a fucking ambush!!"

I could hear screaming now, as well as gunfire. Someone had been hit, badly hit by the sounds of it.

"An ambush? How big?"

Larry's ears had pricked up by now. He moved closer so he could hear both sides of the conversation.

"God dammit, there's gotta be at least fifty of em, all armed to the teeth. And they're using some pretty heavy artillery, too… shit, Bec, you gotta help us! We're getting hemmed in!"

"What on earth can we do from here??"

"Do I have to spell everything out to you?? Are you that out of practice with how things work??"

Larry didn't need to be told twice. He was already out of his seat and out of the room, waking everyone up, getting them ready to go.

"Get down here! Bail us out! Shit, we can't hold out much longer, there's too many of them!"

"Give us fifteen minutes, we'll be there!"

"You better move your ass, Bec, there won't be much left of us in fifteen minutes!"

Ending the call, I ran to my room where I quickly dressed for combat. It was darn hot outside, over thirty degrees, so I didn't have to worry about keeping warm. Sticking my P229 in the waistband of my shorts, I loaded the pockets of my jacket with as many clips as I could carry, as well as a few medical supplies and the like. The adrenalin was flowing already, I was pumped and I hadn't even left the house. Wrapping a throat microphone around my neck, I ran downstairs, being careful not to trip and fall. Everyone else was already packed and ready to go.

"We're taking the tank!" Graham called. The tank, or Graham's Ford station wagon, easily had the most oomph out of any of our cars, and it would get us there the fastest. Before I had even closed my car door, Graham had his foot on the accelerator and we were tearing down the street. I called out directions, I knew where we were going like the back of my hand. I prayed we'd arrive and find them still alive…