Hello everyone. Please find below the fourth instalment of our current story with apologies for the delay in getting it to you. I have, with a little trepidation, introduced a new character into the current story, a certain Corporal Georgie Lane. I am conscious that I am preempting Mr Grounds creation somewhat but hope you will indulge me since I just couldn't resist having a go at my twisted version of her. I am sure the real thing will be a million times better. Anyway, happy reading!
'She is our zombie girl
She puts me in a whirl
I want a banner to unfurl
Which says: she is our zombie girl
She is our zombie girl
She is our zombie girl
Oh yer she is our zombie girl...'
The music faded out to nothing and James reached over to his laptop and stopped the playback before turning to Morley and Beck, who were sitting just across from him in one of the American Embassy's briefing rooms.
"Its just the first demo mix but what do you think?" He asked them both nervously
Morley shifted in his seat then cleared his throat "It ain't exactly Sinatra is it?"
"No its not" agreed James before glancing at Beck "Jonathan?" He prompted
Beck frowned and steepled his fingers below his nose before answering "Its not great but then you don't have to have a good song to win. Look at Dima Bilan in 2008, it wasn't the best track but they threw everything at the set, including a world champion figure skater twirling around the stage, a famous violinist playing a Stradivarius and Dima himself ripping his shirt off mid song. Before you could say 'get me a double vodka' we were all off to Moscow the following year"
"Hang on" said Morely in confusion "Who said anything about trying to win this thing? James and his guys just need something to sing to keep their cover story. We don't have to make this into some Broadway production"
Beck fixed his husband with a piercing gaze before saying slowly and deliberately "Sherman...frankly sometimes I despair"
Morley raised his shoulders in a shrug "What...its just some song contest."
"Just a song contest...just a song contest!" Bridled Beck "Is the Mona Lisa just a drawing? Is Big Ben just a clock?"
"Actually I think Big Ben is the bell" suggested James
"Charles I'll thank you to stay out of this" shot back Beck
"Sorry" replied James chastened
Beck then turned back to the Colonel "I will have you know that the Eurovision song contest is the premier song competition in the entire known universe and if you think I'm going to be associated with some amateurish, village hall talent night entry you have another thing coming"
Morley held up his hands in surrender "Okay, okay enough already. Just tell the man what he's got to do"
Beck nodded "Well alright then." He said before turning to face James "As I was saying, if we get the set up right we can give you a fighting chance. First, I think it would work better as a duet, is there any chance of getting Molly to help out?"
James hesitated before answering. The idea had crossed his mind already. It just didn't feel right doing this without Molly and she would certainly add an extra dimension which seemed to be lacking from the song. He was also missing her badly and was certain she would agree to help. However, from his telephone conversations with her over the last few weeks, he knew that she was very busy setting up the new training course. In fact, during their calls Molly had seemed distracted as if her mind was elsewhere and James recognised the signs of someone moving on professionally and focussing on new priorities.
"No" replied James decisively "She is up to her neck in her new posting and it wouldn't be fair on her or her new CO to pull her out"
"That is a pity" said Beck "Is there anyone else in the company who could fill in?"
James shook his head "Not really"
"Okay. How about a professional singer?" went on Beck
"I wouldn't want anyone who wasn't fully trained to be involved" replied James
"That's fair enough" nodded Beck "Okay let's park that for now. What about the band?"
"Well" replied James "Dangleberries is on keyboards, Mansfield on lead guitar and Fingers is on base"
"I didn't know Fingers had any musical aptitude" said Beck surprised
"Well he can certainly play the base, apparently that's the reason for his nickname" explained James
"I always thought it was because he was a thief before he joined up" commented Morley
"Or good with his hands in other respects" smiled Beck before clearing his throat and continuing "And on the drums?"
James shifted uncomfortably "Errr, that would be Smurf"
"Really?" Queried Beck "Well that is a little ironic"
"Indeed" admitted James "But he was the only other one of the guys who could hold a beat."
Beck nodded thoughtfully "I suppose if we stick him at the back and hide him under a pair of shades we might just get away with it. Okay let's talk about the set, are there any operational requirements?"
James considered this for a moment "It would be useful if we could have some of the equipment we need on stage with us, just in case"
"Well it just so happens" said Beck "That I was thinking it would be a good idea if you could take up that pooh position you do, you know in your paddling pool?"
"You mean the SHAATT position in one of the immersion tanks" corrected Morley
"Exactly" replied Beck "Its iconic and will resonate with viewers"
"Okay" said James uncertainly
"We'll have to camp it up a bit of course" went on Beck warming to his theme "Cover it in sequins and have you sitting in glitter or something"
"Really?" Asked James becoming increasingly concerned
"And I have some ideas about the costumes which I have sketched up" continued Beck pulling some sheets of paper from a folder on the table and passing them around
"Bloody hell" muttered James staring at the drawings "Do they really have to be that...revealing?"
"If we want a chance at this thing we will have to deploy all our equipment" confirmed Beck confidently
"Hmm, its not your equipment that's going to be deployed in front of a hundred million television viewers" commented James
Morley then leaned forward "Could we just discuss the military side of this for one moment?"
"Oh if you must" replied Beck with a role of his eyes before sitting down and collecting up his sketches
"In terms of command and control on the ground" started the Colonel "you will make tactical decisions as you see fit Major"
"Sir" James confirmed
"I will remain your liaison back in the UK" continued Morley "But we will also have to find a head of delegation for the competition"
Beck, who had been fiddling with his mobile phone, suddenly started to pay closer attention.
"They will front up the entry and liaise with the organisers so we need a person who knows the competition, has experience in the entertainment industry and can display some gravitas"
Beck squared his shoulders and took on a grave aspect whilst starting to hum the tune to 'Making You're Mind Up" under his breath.
James frowned and looked steadily at Morley "That's a tricky one" he said "Could we ask the BBC to nominate someone?"
Morley shook his head "They want us to select our own person, given the unusual nature of the competition this year."
Beck started to hum more loudly then got up and walked nonchalantly towards the rooms window to peer at the view.
James blew out a breath then shrugged his shoulders "I could ask some friends I have in the Core of Army Music" he suggested
Beck tutted noisily at the window.
Morley glanced over at him before turning back to James and nodding "That might be useful"
"Oh for goodness sake" blurted out Beck
James and Morley looked over at him in surprise "Is there something you wanted to say JB?" Asked the American
"Well" said Beck in exasperation "Isn't it obvious?"
The other two glanced at each other in confusion then shrugged "No" they said together
"You could bloody well ask me!" Cried Beck
"Oh, of course!" Exclaimed Morley "Jonathan, can you think of anyone who could do the job?"
Beck stared at Morley and James in turn at the same time opening and closing his mouth. The two soldiers looked back steadily but them dissolved into laughter.
"Oh bloody hilarious both of you" cried Beck "Did you work out that little routine between you?"
"No it just sort of happened" replied Morley still smurking "Anyway its about time I had a bit of fun in these damned stories. Im always cast as the grumpy American when I've actually got a great sense of humour. In fact at West Point they used to call me Funnyman Morley... great days, great days." He then grew serious and looked at Beck "You are, of course, the obvious choice to head the delegation"
"Well I don't know if I want to do it now" sulked Beck as he sat down heavily and folded his arms.
"Oh, come on JB, you know you're itching to do it" coaxed the Colonel
Beck shrugged "I'll need a whole new wardrobe"
Morley nodded "Buy whatever furniture you need"
"Oh, you're on fire today Funnyman" said Beck rolling his eyes
Morley smiled then turned back to James "Okay, lets get the final details nailed. We announce you as the UK entry in one week."...
James returned to base later that day. As he entered the company's admin block he was met by Kinders who saluted smartly "Afternoon sir, nice trip to London?"
"Certainly interesting Sargent" confirmed the officer "Anything to report here?"
"Well sir" began Kinders "new medic has arrived."
James frowned "But we weren't expecting Corporal Lane until next week"
Kinders shrugged "Brought forward cos of the upcoming deployment I guess sir"
"Best welcome her to the company then" said James "Where is she?"
"Apparently being shown around by Mansfield Mike, Fingers, Nude Nut, Baz Vegas and Dangles" replied the Sargent "I was just going to go and track them down"
James looked at the man in confusion "Surely it doesn't take five of them to give her the tour?"
"Ah well, she is a bit of a looker from all accounts" explained the Sargent
James rolled his eyes "Oh great, that's all we need."
Just then from around the corner of the admin block appeared the tour party and, at its centre, an attractive female medic with dark brown hair arranged tightly in a French plait.
So engrossed were Mansfield and the others in their running commentary that they completely failed to notice their commanding officer standing close by.
"So this is the admin block where the boss man is based." Said Mansfield "He's got a thing for medics but is totally loved up so forget that. Lieutenant Samuels is his second in command but is married to some bird called Dementia I think and our Sargent bats for the other side. So that sort of makes me the most senior, available bloke"
"I'm sure Georgie ain't surprised you're single Mansfield" opined Fingers "Its the bit about you being a bloke that's hard to believe."
"Oi!" Protested Mansfield Mike to general laughter
Kinders bridled beside James then strode towards the group at the same time bellowing "What the hell do you think you're doing you rabble!"
The group turned as one and shot to attention when they spotted Kinders and James. However, Corporal Lane pivoted so quickly she lost her balance and toppled into Fingers who flayed his arms desperately in an attempt to stay on his feet but in doing so caught Mansfield Mike under the chin sending him spinning into a small hedge which fronted the administration block. The soldier disappeared into the foliage with a despairing yelp, sending up a flurry of leaves and small sticks.
"Looks like that's the only bush you're going to get into today Mansfield" commented Fingers, as the corporal extracted himself from the now mangled shrub with some difficulty and hurriedly joined the others.
Kinders walked among the group glaring at each before continuing his tirade "This isn't some sort of holiday camp. If you want to ponce around having a lark I suggest you find a different career. Understood!"
"Sargent" intoned the group
"And I am not bloody gay" murmured Kinders before continuing in a louder tone "Corporal Lane, report to the Majors office in 5 minutes. Rest of you dismissed."
James watched as the group dispersed then nodded to Kinders and walked to his office. There he sat down and switched on his laptop but was distracted by Mollys voice issuing from his pocket.
"Sometimes I don't know how I'm able to keep my hands off you"
James smiled and dragged his phone from his pocket then tapped on the text message from his wife. His smile quickly faded as he saw that she was letting him know she would be too busy to call tonight as she was planning to work late finalising some lesson plans. However James mastered his disappointment reminding himself that she would be looking to impress her new CO.
Just then a commotion in the office outside prompted James to rise from his seat and open his door to peer out. There he found Private Peter's on his hands and knees collecting scattered papers from the floor aided by Corporal Lane.
"Everything alright Peters?" Asked James
Both the soldiers stood up hurriedly "Yes sir, thank you sir. My fault entirely for not giving the corporal here enough room to fling the door open carelessly as she came in" he said, pointedly looking at the medic.
"Sorry, got a bit over excited I'm afraid sir" admitted the Corporal before advancing towards James, slipping on some of the remaining paperwork and falling headlong into the major, butting him in the midriff in the process and sending him toppling backwards. They both crashed through James's office door and ended up on the floor in front of his desk, the medics head resting between his legs.
Corporal Lane scrambled up spluttering her apologies whilst James rolled around the floor clasping his essentials and with tears in his eyes. Meanwhile, Private Peters pushed his way passed the mortified medic and helped James to his feet before supporting him as he limped to his chair. "Thank you Peters" said James in a strained voice
"Can I get you anything sir?" Asked the Private with concern
"No, no I'll be fine" replied James "The pain is subsiding a little"
Peters nodded before looking at Corporal Lane accusingly then walking out of the office, closing the door behind him.
The Medic stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while James took a couple of deep breaths and managed a weak smile "You certainly know how to make an impression Corporal"
"I am so sorry sir, always been a bit clumsy. Would you like me to take a look sir?"
"Err I don't think that would be a good idea, do you?" Said James pointedly
The corporal reddened "Oh, I guess not"
James nodded and indicated a seat. He studied her as she moved the chair to face him and sat down. With her dark hair and slight build she did have a passing resemblance to Molly, which was enhanced of course by the uniform. However on closer inspection James noted dark brown eyes rather than the radiant green, higher cheek bones, a more aquiline nose and a smooth brown tan instead of the endearing dusting of freckles. Lane's was a harsher, more overt beauty than Molly's and James found it strangely wanting when compared to his wife's softer more subtle charms.
"So I see you have recently returned from tour" began James
When the Medic looked confused James waved his hand around his face "The tan looks recent"
"Oh, I see sir" replied Lane "No, I ain't been away. It looks fresh 'cos I only sprayed it on this morning". The corporal then smiled exposing a set if sparkling white teeth which caused James to squint slightly against the glare.
"Spray you say?" Said James uncertainly "Well that's...different"
"Like to look my best sir, especially when I'm starting a new posting" continued the corporal
"Excellent" said James, ploughing on resolutely "So, I just wanted to welcome you to the service and say that the next six months will define the rest of your life. There will be moments that you will never forget, both good and bad. Its not about looking after number one..."
"Excuse me sir?" Interrupted Lane
"Err, yes Corporal?" Said James in some surprise
"Is this going to be one of those long speeches? Its just that I've got to begin a skin treatment in a bit"
"Oh I'm terribly sorry, I didnt realise I was keeping you from a patient" apologised James
"No, no sir I've got to do it to myself" explained the Medic " The uniform fabric is terrible for my skin. Im totally dependant on moisturising product to keep me going"
"Okay" said James uncertainly
"Sooo is there anything else sir?" Prompted Lane
"Errr, I don't think so" replied James before something occurred to him "Oh, actually, I don't suppose you can sing can you?"
The corporal beamed "Oh yes sir, I love singing"
"Good" said James brightening "Follow me then" and with that he strode from the room. The Medic followed him out into the main office were James asked Private Peters to summon Dangleberries. A short time later the three of them were sat in one of the briefing rooms, the private with his keyboard in front of him.
James passed Lane the lyrics to the Eurovision song and asked her to read through them while Dangleberries played the melody. After a while James looked across at the Medic "Want to give it a go?" He asked
"Oh absolutely sir" she replied
The Major nodded at Dangleberries who started to play the intro. Lane frowned at the sheet in front of her, took a breath and began to sing.
A couple of minutes later the door of the briefing room flew open and Lieutenant Samuels charged in followed closely by Brains who was carrying a stretcher and a medical bag. Samuels panted as he took in the scene then looked at James "Sir, where's the casualty?"
The Major looked at his second in command in bewilderment "Casualty lieutenant? We have no casualty here"
"But the terrible screaming sir. Surely someone has sustained a horrendous wound of some sort?" Pressed Samuels
James shook his head sadly "I'm afraid it's only our chances of success at Eurovision which have been injured" he explained before turning to Lane and saying "When I asked you whether you could sing, corporal, I actually meant whether you could sing well"
"Oh, I see sir" replied Lane "Well, as I said I do enjoy a good sing along but I should have mentioned that l'm not sure other people enjoy listening to me so much"
"Indeed corporal, indeed" commented James before ruminating for a time and then asking "But tell me, are you any good at dancing?"...
Anatoly turned his collar up against the cold drizzle which pervaded the Moscow night and walked along the the meandering path across Ostankino Park. In the distance the green onion domes of the Ostankino Palace rose above the tree line, the features picked out in the darkness by spotlights. However, the television executive had his eyes fixed on the path immediately ahead, deep in thought. He had eskewed the monorail commute that evening since he wanted time alone to gather his thoughts.
Foremost among these, as so often recently, was the zombie band. Their hugely successful promotional tour was continuing, and the previous week they had been in St Petersburg where they played to a packed house at the Mariinsky Hall. Anatoly had been there, watching the band perform from the wings. He was still intrigued at the contrast in the groups behaviour on stage as compared to elsewhere. They really seemed to come alive when they were performing, playing with real feeling and making a connection with the audience.
He had observed them closely many times as they prepared to go on stage and whilst they went through their set but could identify no particular trigger to their change. Their intensity seemed to grow as the time to sing approached and peaked when they were on stage. Once the performance had ended they were quickly ushered away by their handlers and disappeared into their dressing room. When Anatoly joined them shortly after, they were always sitting sedately munching on their raw meat.
On this particular occasion Anatoly had followed the group and its entourage as it left the stage and headed back to the dressing room. There had been some delay in accessing the dressing room while one of the minders searched for the key and the band milled about impatiently in the corridor outside. As the wait increased they became increasingly fractious and Anatoly had said a few calming words. The lead singer had turned to the television executive and given him a look which had reduced Anatoly to a pale quivering silence, a look which had triggered a vivid childhood memory...
When Anatoly was a small boy his father had taken him to Moscow zoo as a birthday treat. During their visit he had watched in fascination as the wolves had waited to be fed by their keepers. The animals had become increasingly excited as their meal had been prepared just out of reach. Anatoly had moved as close as possible to the excited animals to get a clear view of the process despite his father's pleas to keep his distance. As he had pressed his face to the bars the lead animal had turned on him and snarled a clear threat which had made the young boy back away in fright and run in tears to his concerned parent.
Anatoly shivered as he recalled the look of frenzied hunger on the wolf's face and how years later it had been reflected in the look of the zombie singer. The same sense of helpless fear had overtaken Anatoly at the theatre and he had been on the point of fleeing once more when the minder had managed to open the dressing room door and usher the zombie band inside. In the time since, Anatoly had tried to persuade himself that it was simply a look of anger or impatience he had seen on the zombie's face but the memory of the wolf kept coming back to him over the intervening years like a flashing warning light.
The drizzle continued unabated as Anatoly walked on through the dark open space, the path slick beneath his feet. Looking down he noticed one of his shoe laces coming loose and stopped to retie it. As he did so he caught the brief sound of footsteps behind him before they abruptly stopped. Anatoly glanced around to see who was there but could not discern anyone else on the path behind. He finished the bow quickly and carried on walking but after a time heard the other footsteps recommence.
Anatoly stopped and looked round again, prompting the footsteps to stop suddenly once more. "Whose there?" He called nervously into the night but was met with silence. He shook his head and started to walk with renewed pace towards the nearest exit and the busy thorougfare beyond. As he rounded a bend in the path he lost his footing on the slippery paving and landed heavily on his side jaring his elbow. Ignoring the sharp pain Anatoly scrambled up and nearly walked headlong into a dark figure
"Aaaargh!" Cried the television executive in surprise and shock raising his hands to his head to ward off the expected attack.
"Mr Alexandrov, its only me, Vasily" said the figure hurriedly, at the same time removing his hood.
Anatoly lowered his arms and stared at the boys face "Oh, you little bigger" he spluttered "You scared me shitless. What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm sorry to startle you sir, I just needed to talk to you" explained Vasily
"Well next time just make a bloody appointment" spluttered Anatoly "Instead of stalking me through a deserted park in the dead of night"
"I tried but your secretary won't take my calls" continued the boy
Anatoly paused "Oh yes" he said "Well after that little tantrum in the office what did you expect?"
The boy looked down and, thinking he was about to cry, Anatoly quickly went on "Look, as I said, you still have a great future, we just need to find the right opportunity. Maybe I can have a work with a few people..."
"That's not why I wanted to see you" interrupted Vasily
"It wasn't?" Said Anatoly in some surprise.
"No, I want to talk about...them"
"Who?"
"You know"
Anatoly shifted uneasily "The Z Factor?"
"Yes"
"What about them?" Asked Anatoly
"I" the boy paused, struggling to find the right words "I think I've seen them before"
Anatoly frowned "What do you mean?"
"I think I recognise them" said Vasily
Anatoly shrugged "They're zombies, you've probably just seen people dressed up like them in a film or on television"
The boy shook his head "No I mean I recognise the... people they used to be"
"Where?" Asked Anatoly
The boy looked into the distance "When I was on the streets...they were homeless as well and used to busk in the same area. Then one day they just...disappeared"
Anatoly stared at the boy for a time then said "But no one else has recognised them. With the expose they've had someone would have recognised them by now as well"
Vasily continued to look into the night "No one sees you when you are on the streets. You're just invisible to most people."
Anatoly nodded thoughtfully then reached over and placed a hand on the boys shoulder, at the same time looking intensely into his face "Are you sure lad?"
Vasily nodded decisively and returned the stare "Positive"
Anatoly then scratched his chin "can you prove it?"
The boy looked down "Won't my saying it be enough?"
"No" said Anatoly "People will dismiss it as sour grapes."
"Do you believe me?" Asked Vasily
Anatoly took a breath then paused "Yes I think I do, but that's not enough. You'll need evidence to convince other people"
Vasily set his shoulders "Then I'll find it" he said determinedly
Anatoly reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. He handed it to the boy and sai "When you find something call me on this number."
The boy stared at the card then stuffed it into his pocket. "Don't worry Mr Alexandrov" he said beginning to stride away "I'll find you something".
Anatoly watched the boy recede into the darkness " Make sure you do lad, for all our sakes" He then turned up his collar, hunched his shoulders and resumed his journey home.