Chapter 21

The dark waters of the Thames reflected the lights of the city which edged its banks. James looked down at the ever shifting surface and contemplated the cold depths beneath. The river seemed somehow timeless, its ebb and flow continuing oblivious to the worries and cares of the people who spent their lives beside it. A stream of unconsciousness, thought James with a humourless smile.

This forgetful quality was what had drawn James here. He wanted to wipe his mind clean of the events of the last week. Seven days which had seen all his hopes and dreams destroyed and him become the subject of criticism and disgrace, angry comrades and bewildered loved ones. Worst of all was the image of Molly's confused and hurt expression. It overlaid his living nightmare, pervading his every thought.

James climbed clumsily onto the embankment wall and sat painfully on the cold capping stone. His side ached from what he suspected to be a cracked rib while his thigh was badly bruised. His face looked haggard and unwashed with thick stubble on his cheeks, his clothes torn and soiled. He was now ignored or shunned, excluded or chased away. He was tired, depressed and alone. He shifted nearer to the edge of the wall and stared fixedly at the water below.

A pattering of paws and a plaintive wining intruded into his thoughts. James looked back towards the walkway and saw a small dun coloured mongrel regarding him from the pavement.

"Hello you" said James."come up if you want to, plenty of room" and he patted the stone beside him.

The dog backed up slightly and took a running leap, landing lightly beside James who reached over and rubbed behind its ears.

The dog nuzzled his hand and James opened his palm saying "sorry, I've got nothing for you. I've got nothing for anyone anymore" and smiled sadly.

The mongrel let out a whin and half turned, cocking its leg and releasing a warm and pungent stream of urine which covered James' upper leg. It then jumped down and trotted off.

James looked down at the steaming stain on his trousers then turned his face to the sky as he felt heavy drops of cold rain start to fall on him. A giggle escaped from him, building into a hysterical belly laugh and transforming into a hacking cough which made him double over and clutch his injured side. It finally subsided leaving him panting for breath and contemplating the cold water below once more...

Exactly a week earlier, James and his men had returned to base from the Charlton operation, the search of the crime scene and surrounding area having been abandoned. The focus had shifted to a nationwide search for those involved, led by the civilian authorities, but questions were also being raised in the media as to the roll of the military in the initial operation. Who were the mysterious troops who had arrived and searched the area and why had they left without seeming to have accomplished anything?

James had been acutely aware of their failure to fulfil their mission and how it was affecting his men. The mood on the journey back had been subdued and in the debriefing afterwards some frustration had surfaced not helped by Ash's insensitive questioning as to whether all the procedures had been followed properly.

Worse still, James had been questioned closely by his superiors regarding every aspect of the mission and a subsequent report produced insisting on changes to the units training and operational processes. This had reduced morale further to the point where the inevitable flareup occurred.

Some days after the receipt of the report, Lieutenant Ash had been supervising the deployment of an immersion pool using a new automated inflation device. From what James could piece together from talking to reliable witnesses after the event, Ash had been so busy berating an inept private for not coiling an electric wire neatly enough that he had failed to uncouple the air hose from the pool.

The solution had been poured in and Private Williams, the SHAAtt operative, had taken up his post but all the while the rubber sides of the container had continued to expand. Ash had barked out orders whilst maintaining his tirade at the unfortunate soldier between times. Williams had eventually noticed something was amiss but had not dared interrupt the livid officer.

Smurf, who had been working nearby, noticed that something was wrong and shuffled over to Ash to attract his attention. The zombie had tried to communicate the situation to the officer but Ash had ignored him.

In the meantime the pool had taken on the size and shape of a giant ring donut with Williams trapped in the ever shrinking hole in the middle. Inevitably the sides had burst with an ear splitting bang, sending shreds of rubber in all directions and firing the unfortunate private high into the air like a human cannon ball. He had eventually landed on the roof of the medical centre some 50 metres distant, crashing through a sky light and into the main treatment room. This had turned out to be the first stroke of luck the man had encountered that day since, once the resident medic had recovered from the shock of the unexpected intrusion, he was able to administer immediate treatment.

When Ash and the others had picked themselves up, the lieutenant had vented his spleen on Smurf, accusing him of distracting Ash from the task in hand.

Mansfield Mike had arrived at the scene at this point and tried to explain to Ash what Smurf had been doing only to be accused of trying to cover up for his friend. When Mansfield Mike had denied this Ash had completely lost control and approached him brandishing his officer cane.

Smurf, concerned for his friend, had stepped forward, accidentally tripping the officer and sending him sprawling. Ash had scrambled up and turned on Smurf, accusing the zombie of attacking him and ordering the corporal to place him under arrest. When Mansfield Mike had pointed out that the fall was an accident he too had been arrested.

This was why by the time James had arrived, the scene was one of chaos and confusion with Ash purple with rage, Smurf and Mansfield flanked by MPs, equipment scattered all over the parade ground and the rest of the detachment wondering around dazed and half deaf from the recent explosion...

Back on the embankment by the Thames James shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the picture from his mind. However, instead the repercussions of that incident came crowding back...

Just as James had been about to take the situation in hand the base alarm had sounded and the company clerk came sprinting towards his Major calling out that there had been another zombie attack, this time just off Stevenage Road in Fulham, South West London.

James had done his best to rally his unit and prepare them for urgent deployment but he could not avoid their arriving much delayed at the scene. To his consternation he was informed that they were too late to help as the zombies and their hostages had again disappeared without a trace.

On his return to base James was informed that all SZS activity was to be suspended pending a full investigation of recent incidents. He had no choice but to comply and informed Ash and his remaining NCOs immediately.

It was a weary and deflated James that had entered his quarters that evening. He had opened his laptop hoping to speak to Molly but his attention was immediately drawn to an encrypted email from Morley asking him to get in contact urgently.

James had immediately left to use the secure line in the company ops room and was soon speaking to the American.

"James, I have worrying intel from my informant regarding the recent zombie incidents. He is pretty certain that they are not what they seem, that they are not being perpetrated by a terrorist organisation." Morley had said.

"Then what the hell is going on?" Queried James

"We don't know for certain but have our suspicions. I should know more soon and will contact you then. In the meantime watch your back." And with that Morley had signed off.

The following few days had been taken up with preparations for the formal investigation and the hearing into the immersion pool incident. With the latter, James had again found himself in a situation where he had to reprimand good and trusted soldiers under very questionable circumstances but he simply had no alternative in the face of Ash's testimony and the scrutiny of his senior officers. Although independant witnesses to the trip had meant that the greater charge of assaulting an officer could be dropped, there was still the matter of insubordination. James had given as lean a sentence as he dared and hoped that Smurf and Mansfield would understand the position he had been put in.

The formal investigation into the zombie incidents had been headed up by a General Collins who was appointed directly by the MoD and it was clear from the beginning that he had little sympathy for James or his command. His distaste at their methods was very apparent whilst the disciplinary record of his senior NCOs was the subject of scathing remarks. James had defended the unit to the utmost but had seen that his comments carried little weight with the investigating officers.

He had shared his concerns with Molly on one of the rare occasions when they had both had time to talk during that time and she had told him to keep strong, that she loved him and that whatever happened she would be there for him. He had drawn great strength from her belief in him, a belief that would be shattered the following day...

The cold of the stonework wall was seeping into James' tired bones and so he stood up, grabbing the adjacent ornate lamp column for support. He leaned out over the edge and looked down again into the swirling waters...

James had been roused from his troubled sleep by an early morning call from an aid to General Collins who said the investigating board would like to see him as soon as possible. James had washed and dressed and reported to the base's main admin block where he was shown into a large meeting room. At one end behind a desk had sat General Collins, reading a tabloid newspaper and with a laptop open in front of him. The General had not looked up as James had marched the length of the room, come to a halt and saluted.

Only once the general had finished the particular report he had been reading had he acknowledged James' existence.

"So Major" he had begun "would you care to explain this to me" and so saying he threw the paper onto the desk in front of him so that James had full view of the banner headline:

'We Want You As A New Recruit' with a full colour picture of James, Mansfield and Smurf on stage at the Cabaret Club with the Village People tribute band.

James stared in disbelief at the photo and stammered "Sir I can explain. It's not what it seems. For a start they were singing YMCA and not 'In the Navy'"

Collins glared at James "do you have an explanation Major?"

James had hurriedly recounted the circumstances surrounding the photograph. Collins made a few notes then nodded. "That seems plausible enough Major. Very unfortunate but plausible."

James let out a relieved breath.

"However, it doesn't help me with this" and at that the General had spun the laptop around so James could see the screen. On it a YouTube video was loading and after a few seconds started playing.

On the screen had appeared the all too familiar figures of a tall muscular man in a long fur lined cloak with a naked woman writhing and screaming whilst clinging to his chest. Then James had entered stage left shouting 'British Army, nobody move!' at which point the woman had screamed and fallen backwards into James' arms from where he had lowered her gently to the floor.

James had looked at the General thinking that the video was at an end but had been confused when the screen had cut to the naked woman kneeling by the midriff of a man in combat trousers whose upper body was out of shot. The woman was brandishing a soft measuring tape and rubbing it suggestively against a bulge in the man's groin area which ballooned slowly as she worked, the camera cutting periodically to shots of James' face performing his distinctive tongue roll.

James had stared at the screen in wide eyed, open mouthed, disbelief. Only when the screen had faded to black had he snap put of his trance and forced words from his parched mouth

"That's not how it happened" he croaked.

The General had glared back at him

"So you don't deny that it is you on the screen"

"No sir but..."

"And that you did those things" pursued the General.

"Most of them but..."

"Major, I cannot overstate the seriousness of the situation you are now in" said the General

"Why, who has seen this?" Said James in a quiet voice

"It is on the internet and has gone viral Major. Ten thousand views already and that's before the media picks it up." The general had confirmed

James had swayed unsteadily where he stood, his world crashing down around him. The general's next words seemed to come from a great distance away:

"Major I have no choice but to suspend you from duty and confine you to quarters until such time as a court-martial can be convened. If I was you I would spend your time updating your CV."

James had then been led away by two military policemen. He had walked through the base as if in a trance hardly aware of the activity around him. His thoughts had been in turmoil as he tried to come to terms with what had happened. It wasn't until he had entered his quarters that he became aware of the urgent vibration of the mobile phone in his pocket. He had eventually fished it out to find a short but succinct text message from Morley:

'Grave danger. Avoid all costs. Arcadia Hotel Gower St. Noon tomorrow.'

"I'll have to ask you for that sir" said one of the MPs "and your lap top."

James had quickly deleted the text, then offered the phone to the soldier but had released it a fraction early so that it had fallen to the ground between then. As the soldier leant down to get it James had grabbed his belt and collar and swung him around so he cannoned into his colleague. Both had been sent sprawling which enabled James to grab his phone and dart out of the door locking it behind him. He had then sprinted down the corridor followed by the furious shouts of the MPs.

James had headed for the main gate and climbed under the chassis of a departing lorry which had been idling there waiting to be let out.

Two hours later he had clambered down when the driver stopped at a service station. He had used the station toilet to remove his tunic top and tie and had bought a wind breaker from the shop. He had then taken stock. He was over 100 miles from London and had little money. He had dared not withdraw any or use his credit card as that would be an easy way to track his whereabouts. He had no option but to hitchhike so trooped out onto the roadside.

Some 10 minutes later a car travelling in the fast lane had braked suddenly and swerved across the road causing a blaring of horns as other drivers skided and swerved to avoid a pile up. The car had come to a halt on the hard shoulder a little distance from James and backed up at speed. He had had to move quickly to one side to avoid being run over and walked around to the drivers side where an excited middle aged lady had sat giggling nervously.

"I'm terribly sorry I nearly rear ended you!" She said "where are you headed?"

"London" said James

"Oh I'm going in the other direction but not to worry, the kids won't mind waiting three hours to be picked up while I make a slight detour"

James thanked her and climbed in. The journey which had ensued had been somewhat surreal, the conversation focussing on the use of various unusual domestic cleaning methods. James had had a vague feeling that he was somehow being propositioned but just kept smiling and nodding until he was dropped off at another petrol station on London's north circular.

James had then hiked in to town, spent some on his dwindling money on a bag of chips and had hunted around for a place to spend the night which he found in the form of a pedestrian subway in the company of three homeless people.

The following morning he had woken up stiff and hungry and followed the other rough sleepers to a Salvation Army centre where he was given a mug of tea and bacon sandwich. He had then walked to Gower Street and waited outside the hotel until the appointed time.

The receptionist had given James a suspicious look but provided him with a room number once he had mentioned Morley's name. He had gone up to the room to find not Morley but two men he did not know waiting for him. One if them said they had a message from the American whilst the second had produced a metal pipe and smashed it into James side. James fell to the floor where they rained kicks and punches down on him.

James had been able to grab a chair and fling it at the legs of one of his assailants who stumbled and fell. This gave James the chance to roll away from the other man and get to his feet. He had then grabbed a vase and flung it at him before leaping for the door, running along the hall and down the stairs.

James had heard his attackers pursuing him and hurtled through the hotel reception, out the main doors and into the street. He had then run and run until he thought his lungs would burst. He had only stopped when he was sure he was no longer being followed and collapsed behind a builder's skip in a side road.

He had then passed out and only come too after it had gotten dark. James had ached from head to foot but worse than this he had been at a loss as to what to do. Morley had appeared to lead him into a trap, his family would be being watched and he could not turn to his friends for fear of making them complicit. He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to speak to Molly, to seek solace in those dazzling green eyes and comfort in her full red lips.

James fumbled for his phone. It was nearly out of charge but there would be enough for one more video call. He had dialled her number and she answered, her face filling the small screen.

"Molly, it's me. Just listen, the things they are saying about me, they aren't true. They are lies made up to discredit me and the service. You must believe me..." He ran put of words.

Molly looked at him and started to cry "How could you Charles? How could you..." The picture had frozen and faded to black, the battery dead along with his hopes.

James had flung the phone away and stood up. He limped away. He had walked the streets for hours, then had lain down and slept. Then it was morning and he had walked some more. He passed shops and restaurants. In one there had been a television on and there were his parents being pursued by photographers, their faces bewildered, caught in the strobing camera flashes. He walked on. It grew dark again and he found himself by the Thames...

James leant out over the river, one hand clinging to the lamp column. His fingers loosened their grip, the pull of the cleansing water like a magnet...on the edge of his hearing footsteps sounded, growing louder then slowing and stopping. Then a familiar voice spoke gently to him

"'Do not go gentle into that good night' that's what Dylan Thomas said wasn't it dear?" It was Beck looking up at him. "'Rage, Rage against the dying of the light'"

"He was talking about growing old not committing suicide" said James

"Who knows what that Welsh drunk was on about half the time, now come down from there" commanded Beck

James closed his eyes "but what's the point? I have lost everything"

"Oh don't be so melodramatic Charles. I'm the one that's supposed to be the old queen around here. Now pull yourself together will you and come with me."

"Where are we going?" Asked James chastened

"To save the day again of course. But first we need to get something warm inside you...oh dear that came out a bit wrong. Then I can explain what we think has been going on, although that will have to be for the next instalment as this chapter is long enough already"

James nodded in submission and climbed down from the wall. He and Beck then walked away into the night.