Chapter 25: Operation Zombies Ahoy!
"Slew outboard!" the deck engineer called out to be heard over the whirr of the ships engine and the roar of the ocean below. "Down on one!"
At his command, the inflatable descended into the murky depths beneath. The moonless night ensured it was so dark that if it wasn't for the churning of the waves you wouldn't even be able to make out where the sea began. Not that this was much comfort to those on the deck above, and even less for those in the inflatable.
The strike team was deploying from a Type 23 Frigate HMS Sutherland on loan from the Royal Navy as they made their insertion into the North Sea. The Council had lost contact with an Arctic Cruise Liner Arcadia heading for Norway and carrying a Council VIP on board approaching 36 hours ago.
After combined search and rescue efforts by the British and Norwegian navies the cruise liner was found drifting in the middle of the sea, a storm hard upon her. Unable to discount the possibility of alien intervention, the Council had called for the intervention of XCOM.
Their objective was to search the ship, find out what happened on board, secure the VIP and exfiltrate to the HMS Sutherland. The Frigate would remain on station to provide 'Fire Support', military code for blow everything out of the water should the operation not go to plan.
The inflatable made best speed as it fought against the rough waves and the strong currents to pull alongside the stricken ship, consumed by the shadow of the beast before them.
"Grapples on" the squad leader called out.
In quick succession, the team fired their wrist mounted grappling lines. Catching them on whatever solid structure they could they yanked the lines to test the weight before engaging the retract. The self-propelled grapples brought them to the deck in less than a few seconds, clambering over the railing the team brought their weapons to bear and began searching for targets. They found the storm washed deck abandoned but that didn't mean much, there was still a lot of the ship left to search.
Moving along the deck, their weapons raised in preparation of an ambush, they found no signs of distress and the ships lifeboats still in their containers. Assembling in front of the ships door the leading soldier opened it as the other moved to cover the entryway with practiced efficiency. Finding nothing out of place the team moved inside, finally out of the rain and in enough silence to finally hear themselves think.
Their first objective was to reach the bridge, locate the passenger manifest and uncover any other records which might give them a clue as to where their target may be.
The interior layout of the cruise liner was like a maze, an endless arrangement of corridors and passages which forced them to rely on memory and directions marked on the walls. Eventually they found their way to the ships bridge.
The team found the bridge empty. The bridge consoles remained functional, each glowing with a dim light as they idled. Captain Richard Taylor removed his helmet and smoothed out his close-cropped brown hair as he took stock of their first objective. The team immediately dispersed to their preassigned tasks.
Lieutenant Rebecca Marsh, team sniper, secured her rifle at her back and set about searching the lockers and other storage areas.
Sergeant Amanda York and Sergeant Mary Ryan, support, focussed on accessing the ships computers in search of information.
At the same time Lieutenant Michael Davies, assault, and Sergeant Feng Chiu, heavy, kept their weapons ready as they patrolled the bridge.
Davies came around the captain's seat in the centre of the ships bridge. "I think I've found the captains log"
"Does it tell you anything about what happened to the ship?" Taylor asked.
"Only why they are going to have to reupholster the seat" Davies replied.
"Sir, you better come and see this" Ryan interrupted.
Taylor approached the console where Ryan was working.
"I found our VIP" Ryan pointed to one of the names rolling past on the ships digital manifest. "Room 602 on deck 5. But that's not all" Ryan continued typing away, bringing up another file alongside it. "It's an engineering report, timestamped 37 hours ago. Apparently, they experienced engine trouble when the propeller struck something in the water"
Davies circled around the main bridge console. Peering out the bridge window he could look down onto the main deck, laid out with a large pool and sun area. Through the beating storm he could swear he could see something in the middle of the pool, something with a glowing orange tint about it.
"The ship was brought to an emergency stop while the Captain sent an engineering team down to investigate" Ryan continued. "They tried to hail search and rescue but couldn't reach them because of the storm. It looks as though-"
A noise emanated from across the bridge. Everyone turned together, their respective weapons raised.
"Don't shoot!" a man's voice called out. A young man in steward's uniform pulled himself to his feet from behind the console, his hands raised above his head.
"Who are you?" Taylor ordered.
"My names Roger" the man replied, keeping his hands up. "I work in the cabin"
"What happened here?" Taylor ordered again.
"There's no time for that" Roger replied panickily, straining himself to keep his hands up even as the rest of his body wanted nothing more than to dash for the nearest exit. "We need to get out of here before they find-"
A shattering of glass accompanied a spray of blood. Taylor, caught in the forefront of the blast, shielded himself with the broadside of his shotgun. When he peered over Roger was already dead, impaled through the chest on the flat bill of a swordfish. Roger fell to the deck in a flurry of blood.
A flash of lightning scorched the skyline, the black silhouettes of malformed humans appeared on the sundeck beneath. Slowly, they started shuffling their way towards the bridge.
"We need to get-" Taylors attempts to rally his team were cut short as more of the undead emerged at the remaining bridge windows, banging at the glass to claw their way in.
The strike team beat a hasty retreat from the bridge, Taylor and Davies firing their shotguns to stem the growing mass of undead. Taylor was the last through the door, Chiu and Marsh securing the door behind him for what little good it would do to keep them at bay.
The team charged back down the corridor, ignoring the sound of splintering wood and creaking metal behind them. Their charge soon brought them to a junction. The team turned down the corner, thankful to find it clear.
It did not stay that way for long however as the howls of the undead only continued to echo through the otherwise empty hallway. A looming precursor to their inevitable appearance. The team reached the stairway leading deeper into the ship. Following it down they were once more faced with corridors in both directions lined with endless numbers of cabin doors.
"We need to head down the corridor" Ryan rechecked the directions on the wall, pointing down the corridor to the right. "We're looking for cabin-"
The echoing howls grew louder. They were upon them now. As if summoned by some unknown signal groups of the undead began approaching from all sides: further down the hallway behind them, rising from the stairway below and shuffling down the stairway from the bridge above.
The team retreated from the approaching horde, firing their weapons into the first of the group only for more to soon take the place of their fallen. Further down the passageway they could see the structure of a bulkhead security door obstructing their path.
"Get that door open!" Taylor ordered.
Taylor and Davies turned back to face the advancing horde, the confined space limiting the group to standing two abreast. At the same time the others searched frantically for the mechanism which would unlock the door. Spying a panel in the wall Ryan wrenched the panel away, revealing a computer terminal concealed beneath.
Ryan quickly set about accessing the computer while the rest of the team continued firing. Time ticked by, no one knew how long. Weapons were emptied, requiring their operators to reload even as the mass of zombies drew ever closer.
"What's taking so long?" Taylor called out.
"The computers security is using military-grade code" Ryan replied.
"This is a civilian vessel" York protested. "It shouldn't have that kind of security"
Another shotgun blast rang out. Davies stepped back to reload, Marsh was forced to seal the breach. Marsh fired her rifle, the first zombie dropped. Marsh readied her rifle and fired again, another zombie dropped. It wasn't enough though and even more moved to take their place.
"I've got it!" Ryan called out.
The bulkhead door opened behind them with a metallic whirr. The team began to move back in an orderly fashion, firing as they moved. Marsh fired her last shot, reaching down to retrieve a fresh magazine from her belt.
A dishevelled hand snatched the barrel of her gun, a sharp yank pulling her off her step. Another pair of hands lunged forward, grasping wildly at her outstretched arm. This was all that was necessary to overtake her. Marsh suddenly found herself drawn into a flailing mass of undead.
"Marsh!" Davies cried out after her. Reaching out to grasp her his outstretched fingers met her hand, grasping tightly as he desperately tried to pull her back. Chiu grabbed hold of Davies rig as he fought to pull them both back. Taylor continued to fire into the thrashing mass of undead, forced to hold back his shots to avoid hitting his teammates.
The overwhelming pull of the undead proved too great. Davies grip slipped, falling back on top of Chiu behind him. Taylor struck his hand against the door control. The bulkhead door slammed shut with a harsh strike of metal against metal. Muffled screams and howls continued to emerge from the other side of the door. Soon, even these fell into silence.
A moment of stillness overtook them after the chaos which had preceded it. But they could not allow themselves to dwell on all that just transpired, they still had an objective to complete.
Taylor forced himself to his feet. "Come on" Taylor rallied his remaining people. "We need to keep moving"
The team assembled without complaint. Reloading their weapons as necessary they began making an ordered advance down the corridor. Taylor counted down the room numbers as they passed 542… 578… 596.
The team assembled outside the stateroom marked 602. They didn't know what was inside, all they knew was they would need to take it slow if they were going to avoid anymore-
Gunfire tore through the thin wooden door, splinters flying in all direction and forcing the team to duck for cover to protect themselves. Any thoughts of doing this subtly were dashed, they needed to get in there quick. "Aggressive entry, now!"
Chiu moved back into his position beside the door. He retrieved a flashbang grenade from his belt. Pulling the pin, he opened the door, threw it inside and pulled it shut again. Seconds passed. An ear-splitting bang emerged on the other side.
Davies charged the door first. He saw the silhouette of a man standing in front of him. Davies tackled him to the ground. Chiu followed in close behind, grabbing for the glint of metal in the man's hand he soon wrestled the weapon out of his grasp. The man struggled under the combined weight of both men. Davies felt a sharp stabbing pain in his lightly covered wrist. Chiu felt a sharp kick in the centre of his groin. Both fought through their pain and worked to subdue their quarry.
"Get the hell off me!" the man protested.
Taylor and the rest of the team followed in swiftly, sweeping the rest of the suite for any further threats. The room was declared clear.
"What's your name?" Taylor demanded of the still thrashing man.
"Adrian Lockwood" he replied.
Taylor stepped forward, shifting to get a clear look at the man's face. "Confirmed, he's our guy"
Davies and Chiu released their holds at their Captains orders, helping Lockwood back onto his feet. He was a large man in smart jacket and trousers with a thick American accent. His salt and pepper hair was cut short, suggesting at least some time spent in the military. The man wore a constant expression of barely concealed anger, although that may have to do with the grenade.
"You're the rescue party?" Lockwood gave it more as a statement than as a question.
Taylor stepped forwards. "Captain Taylor, XCOM Strike One-"
"I know who you are" Lockwood interrupted, glancing across the rest of the team with a look of unabridged disgust. "Christ, is this all they think I'm worth? Bunch of Woks, Spiks, Krauts, Frenchies…" his eyes pass over Davies. "Where the hell are you from?"
"Melbourne" Davies replied, still massaging his wrist which bore the teeth marks of Lockwood's attempt at resistance.
"Finally took your grandfathers picture off the street corners, did they?" Lockwood turned his attention back to Taylor. "About time you got here. I already had to fend off my own security without you"
"Your security?" Taylor asked.
"Anders got bitten on the way here" Lockwood explained. "Idiot didn't tell anyone until he'd already started to turn. I had to rip out his skull and beat him to death with it"
The team glanced across at the grisly remains of a man laid out on the floor of the cabin.
"Knew him Horatio indeed" Chiu mused.
Lockwood once more passed his gaze across the rest of the assembled group. "Weren't there supposed to be six of you?"
"Marsh didn't make it" Taylor admitted.
"Oh, well done" Lockwood gave out a slow clap. "Gold star for you, dipshits"
"Listen, stow the attitude" Davies interjected. "We're here to-"
"No, you listen!" Lockwood snarled back, pointing an accusing finger at Davies. "Do you even know what you've just walked yourself into? This is Chryssalid day-care and right now we're the juice and cookies" Lockwood took a moment to smarten the collar of his jacket. "Now, assuming that you're the best option I have for getting out of here please kindly return my pistol and we'll get going"
"Apologises, but XCOM regulations do not permit civilians to carry firearms" Taylor explained.
"And I'm telling you I'm not leaving this room without something to protect myself" Lockwood stood toe to toe with Taylor, almost matching the younger man size for size. "Now you can either stand there waving your limp dick around or you can grow some balls and get us out before we all end up dead"
The pair devolved into a staring contest. Even as the sounds of the undead inevitably closing in around them grew their gazes refused to falter from eachother.
"Sergeant York" Taylor spoke first. "Retrieve Mr Lockwood's sidearm"
York did as ordered, reaching down to retrieve the discarded pistol before handing it to her Captain. Taylor wordlessly passed it over to Lockwood. Lockwood checked his weapon. "Glad you could see reason"
The immediate issue resolved, Taylor and the rest of the team prepared to leave the stateroom. Davies took point, scanning his shotgun in front as he stepped out. The corridor outside remained mercifully quiet. With the way they came already sealed their only route out was to head deeper into the ship and take an alternate path up to the deck to evacuate.
The team moved in professional silence, only the rattling of equipment and weapons accompanying them as they moved. They found the end of the corridor secured by yet another military grade terminal. Ryan quickly moved to begin untangling this one.
With the reprieve it offered, Chiu felt he had to ask. "Tell me, what's someone like you doing on a cruise like this which makes you so valuable to the Council?"
Lockwood glanced up with a look of complete disinterest. "Its questions like that which tend to get people shot for learning things they shouldn't" a tense moment hung between them. "My objective is to head towards the Arctic Circle to investigate possible sites for disposal"
"Disposal of what?" Chiu persisted.
"Ever hear of Cadmium?" Lockwood asked, shifting to lean idly against the cabin wall. "How about Hexavalent Chromates"
"They're used in heavy industry for corrosion protection of metals" York interjected. "But I thought they were restricted in the EU under REACh"
"Only for those who can't get the waivers" Lockwood countered. "But cost of proper disposal has only been going up in recent years. This had led some to invest in, 'alternative solutions'"
"Let me guess" York said. "You provide these 'alternative solutions'"
"With all the disruption going on with this alien invasion no one's really concerned with these sorts of things at the moment" Lockwood replied. "We have to take every opportunity we can"
"Better not let the Council know what you're really up to" Chiu said.
Lockwood could not hold back his laugh. "Who do you think hired me in the first place? Some of your Council members are my best customers. Besides, even if anyone finds out we'll just blame it on the aliens or whatever cover story the Council comes up with this time"
"Remind me why we're protecting this guy again?" Ryan asked.
"Alright, stow it" Taylor ordered. "We've got a job to do"
"Yes sir" Ryan added a final flourish of her fingers across the computer terminal. An electronic chime announced her success. The bulkhead door released.
The sight beyond the door was like a scene from a classical interpretation of hell. The corridor ahead was a mass of writhing, howling bodies. The strike team fired their weapons into the group. The first of the zombies dropped away to reveal more behind them. Beyond the mass of zombies lay the stairs which led up to the top deck.
"Slow advance" Taylor ordered. "We're moving towards the stairs and-"
Lockwood pushed his way past the strike team, rushing forward towards the group of zombies in front of him. Taylor and the others were thrown, unable to react before it was too late. Lockwood passed the group of the undead, utilising the momentary gap to reach the foot of the stairs and begin ascending them two at a time. The breach that he had used to escape was swiftly closed.
Taylor cursed beneath his breath. "Everyone, get after him!"
Taylor and Davies move forwards to catch up with him, each of the strike team firing into the zombie horde as they slowly moved towards the stairs. Reaching the bottom of the stairs Chiu and York held their place while Taylor and Davies ascended the stairs in search of the VIP. Fighting with their backs to the stairs made the situation that much more difficult, inhibiting their movement and slowing their retreat as they attempted to keep the ever-growing zombie group at bay.
Bringing up the rear of the group, Chiu continued to fire his machine gun into the enemy. His fire suddenly stopped. Amongst the seething mass of people, he saw a mass of flash armour. Marsh, her cream skin now streaked with lines of freshly dried blood, her deep blue eyes turned glassy white.
"Rebecca?" Chiu asked.
Marsh raised her head to meet his gaze. For a fleeting moment the world around came to a stop.
Marsh lunged forward with an inhuman howl, throwing her weight against Chiu as her teeth sank into his lightly armoured forearm. Chiu wrestled to fight her off him, despite her smaller stature the woman proving a formidable opponent.
The sound of a single shot rang out, Marsh's body fell limp and heavy in his arms. Chiu looked back over his shoulder, Lockwood standing at the top of the stairs with the discharged pistol held in his hand. "You're welcome!" Lockwood called out over the howls of the ravenous zombies. Turning away he allowed himself to be escorted up the stairs by Davies ironclad grip on his arm.
"Come on" York called down to Chiu, utilising her superior position to fire down on the zombies above Chiu's head. "I've got you covered"
Chiu looked down to see the deep red stains weeping through his cloth underlining to stain his armour. It would only be a matter of time. "You go!" Chiu called back. Raising his machine gun, he fired indiscriminately into the group, clearing the first line in front of him. He knew there was only one way out of this.
"Go, get out of here!" Chiu shouted.
York hesitated to move back. It was only when York saw Chiu withdraw the grenade from his belt that she knew that he was serious. York turned away and charged up the stairs to re-join the rest of the strike team. An explosion erupted on their heels, fire and smoke rising from the lower decks. Despite all this there was no guarantee that they would stay contained for long.
The remainder of the strike team emerged out onto the rain lashed deck. The howls of the undead were close on their heels. There was no time to use the grapples. Calling upon the depths of their training the team leapt over the edge of the railing into the dark abyss beneath them.
The strike team struck the surface of the water, thrashing to pull themselves back to the surface in the rough water. Davies was the first to pull himself up into the waiting boat, the choppiness of the sea only adding to the difficulty. The rest of the team swiftly piled in after him, drawing Lockwood in after them.
York took the helm, igniting the engine as she turned them back towards the HMS Sutherland.
"Sutherland, we confirm acquisition of the VIP" Taylor spoke through the radio. "Arcadia has fallen. Repeat, Arcadia is an alien biohazard"
"Acknowledged Strike-One" the radio operator responded. "Quarantine teams are being prepped"
The inflatable pulled alongside the ship. The deck crew was already on hand to assist the team back onboard the ship. The team slumped unceremoniously to the deck. Taylor was the first to pull himself to his feet. "Checkmate!" Taylor called out.
Lockwood was the second to pull himself to his feet beside Taylor. "Check-"
Lockwood's words were cut short as Taylor lashed out in an instant to strike the larger man straight across the side of his face. Lockwood stumbled back with the shock of the impact, his hand rising to nurse his swiftly bruising jaw.
"Yeah" Lockwood mused. "I kind of deserved that one"
"Checkmate!" emerged over the ships broadcast system.
"Strike-one!" a commanding voice rose above the deck. Looking up the strike team saw Central Officer Bradford staring down from his position grasping the railing on the upper deck.
"Overall you finished with two soldiers dead and a sub-par time" Bradford announced. "A third of operatives lost per mission is not a sustainable outcome so we're doing the exercise again, and better this time"
The squad replied with a modest grumble as they moved off to prepare for the next round of the training exercise.
Bradford returned himself to the ships bridge, securing the ships door behind him as he sealed off the relentless downpour outside. He found Dr Vahlen right where he had left her, scouring over the recorded footage from the days training exercise.
"I continue to question the operational value in these exercises" Dr Vahlen turned away from her computer screen to face Bradford. "Can you please explain precisely how this will help us in combatting the aliens?"
"Commanders orders" Bradford replied by way of explanation. "Although I am assured it has nothing to do with the cult zombie classic movie marathon that was playing in the entertainment suite last week"
XCOM Rule 297: After the recent operation in Newfoundland, at the Commanders insistence, all Strike Team members are to familiarise themselves with the following features for training purposes: Zombies Ahoy!, Zombies on the High Seas, Cruising for the Undead and Deadliest Catch. These shall serve as preparation should the aliens become amphibious or Chryssalids evolve gills.
