A/N Guys after you've read this chapter, can you please give me some feedback in a review. I need to know if I'm on the write track. End of Comm.
Highschool of the dead: The British Outbreak
Chapter 6: The worst of us
Jason
Chester Hospital
Chester safezone
Z-day + 27
11:42
Jason slowly returned to consciousness. His head was throbbing as he slowly opened his sticky eyes.
'Where the hell am I?' he thought. He slowly began to sit up, but lay back down as a lance of pain shot up his side. He was just about to try sitting up a little slower when a doctor wearing a lab coat walked in.
"Ah," he said. "You're awake. Take it easy, I'm going to clean your eye's up. You've been out for a while."
The doctor washed his eyes with something and Jason rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyelids. He tried to speak, but all that he managed was a croak. The doctor handed him a plastic cup of water and helped him sit up to drink it.
"Thank you," said Jason, "Where am I and how long was I out?"
"You're in Chester Hospital and you've been out unconscious for 3 days."
"3 days..." mumbled Jason, then it all came back to him! The attack! The gassing! The Wilsons! His team! "My team! Are they..?"
"Fine," replied the Doctor. "You're team all received treatment for CS exposure and all the shot fragments were successfully removed from Mr. Hanson. The only reason we kept you under for 3 days was you suffered from extensive muscle strain and we weren't sure how bad the damage was from that blow you took to the head. Have you ever considered wearing a helmet?"
"Wouldn't have got the gas mask on quick enough if I did," replied Jason. While he normally didn't wear a helmet on patrols, he thought he might start now, as well as conducting some gassing training with his team.
"Where are my team now?" The doctor snorted slightly before explaining,
"They refused to leave your side for a full day until Major Marsden ordered them to get some rest and reassigned them to light duty until you woke up."
"Sounds like them," said Jason, happy that they were alright. Then he smiled sheepishly as his stomach growled.
"I'll have some food brought up. Also your CO wanted me to tell him when you regained consciousness," said the doctor. He departed, leaving Jason alone. He looked around the room, finding it to be sparsely decorated. Since the fall, the hospital had been set up inside what had been a modern office building that rose high above the walls and this, combined with its all glass exterior, afforded commanding views over Chester racecourse and the surrounding area. It was no wonder Major Marsden wanted to put mortar and sniper teams on the roof and upper floors.
A nurse arrived with a tray of food. She put the tray of food down on a small table and raised the back of the bed so Jason could sit up comfortably. She replaced the food in front of him before leaving with a smile, telling him to call if her if he needed anything.
Jason looked down at the food with a critical eye; a bowl of watered down vegetable soup, some ginger snaps, and a cup of weak orange squash... hardly the food of the gods, but Jason wolfed it down, not having had anything to eat for the last 3 days. Once he was finished (which couldn't have been longer than 2 minutes later) he put the tray aside and he was about to debate getting up and going in search for something to do, when Major Marsden walked in.
Jason struggled to bring his arm up in salute, not moving for 3 days and still being pumped full of meds had done a number on his reaction times. Marsden waved him down.
"At ease," he said. He was in what Jason referred to as his 'grandfather' mode. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I just went 12 rounds with a gorilla and lost," replied Jason. Marsden smiled.
"You did a damn good job out there Mr. Rees," he said, "The Wilson family were very grateful for you and your team's efforts and we were able to evacuate all of them safely, as well as capture one of the men who attacked you."
Jason frowned, at least now they could get some answers.
"Has he yielded any information yet sir?"
"Not yet. He is in the custody of the police and will be offered a deal. Now then, since you've been here I've had you're team on light duty with Lance Corporal Long in command. You will resume command when the hospital sees fit to release you. You and your team will remain on light duty for another week. After that, assuming your fit for duty, You and your team are being reassigned to the special operations detachment."
"Special operations detachment?" asked Jason.
"its a new detachment under Staff Sergeant Sale's command." Explained Marsden. "Were creating it specially to handle groups like the ones who attacked you, You're being issued woodland DPM's over MTP, and you're being assigned as the unit's sniper with your team as your security detail. Understand?"
"Yes sir." Marsden nodded.
"I've left a new set of uniform and your boots with the nurses. I'm afraid that, with the exception of your boots, we had to cut the rest of your uniform and combat gear off when you were bought in. I understand your chest rig was a personal purchase?"
"It was sir," replied Jason. "It's not the end of the world though sir. The re-enactor and airsoft shop I bought it from is in the city. I've been meaning to go and see the owner, guess now I have an excuse."
"Indeed," said Marsden. "Before I go, I have one other thing for you." He reached into his pocket and removed something small and wrapped in plastic. He tossed it onto Jason's bed. It was a pair of dark green rank slides, with 3 black chevrons.
"Congratulations, Sergeant."
"Sir! I don't deserve these!" Jason protested, "All I did was get my team into a firefight, potentially started a war with a hostile group of people, and get my ass kicked! How is any of that deserving of a promotion?"
"Really?" asked Marsden, "because from how I see it, you successfully recovered survivors and also put yourself in harm's way to defend them. You also carried one of your wounded soldiers out of a burning building and then yes, got your ass kicked while leading a counterattack against the enemy. In my books, that's worth a promotion. Now get better and get back to work!"
"Yes sir!" replied Jason, he was smiling. Marsden was about to leave when Jason made a request;
"Sir, was my Glock recovered from the field?"
"Yes," said Marsden, "It's in the armoury. Why?"
"Could you have it brought up? I sleep better with it within quick grabbing range."
Marsden shook his head in humorous despair as he left.
Marsden
Chester town hall
Chester safezone
Z-day + 27
12:00
Marsden marched into the town hall's council meeting room. He'd ordered an emergency meeting of the council, in light of what Jason and his team had encountered on their last patrol. The council was fully assembled and was
"Thank you for coming," he said, as he took his seat. "I've just been to the hospital. Sergeant Rees has regained consciousness."
"That's very good to hear," said Mrs. Reva. "But I think we have more pressing matters to attend to..."
"Such as why you see fit to hold 2 men on no charge and without trial," Mrs. Bell cut in. Marsden glared at her, and would like to know how she found out about the 2 prisoners they'd captured.
"Last I checked. We didn't need an excuse to hold enemy combatants as prisoners of war," he replied.
"They are not prisoners of war!" snapped Mrs. Bell, "they are survivors that you are holding without proper cause..."Marsden lost his temper;
"They fired on my soldiers! They gassed them and the civilians they were defending! They tried to kill them! I think that classes as proper cause." Mrs. Bell was about to bite back when Mrs. Reva cut her off.
"Major Marsden is right Mrs. Bell," she said, "His soldiers were attacked and 2 of them were put in the hospital for server injuries. However the justification for this attack is unclear, we need more information about these people, and must determine if they are a threat to the city."
Mrs. Bell was about to offer her opinion on the matter when there was a knock at the door. The door opened before anyone could invite them in. Marsden's adjutant, Private Jackson rushed in and snapped a hasty salute, before coming up and whispering something into Marsden's ear. He processed the new information, thanked Jackson and dismissed him.
"A scavenger team and their escort were just attacked," announced Marsden. "4 Dead, 3 wounded. A group of marauders, armed with shotguns, axes... and tear gas." An awkward silence fell over the room.
"I think it's time that we have a chat with our guest," said Mr. Clayton. "See what he knows." Chief Inspector Cook agreed.
"Hold on," said Mrs. Bell, "Just what are you planning to do? Torture the man?"
"No," replied Cook. "I'm going to give him a choice." He turned to Mrs. Reva.
"With you permission councillor, I'd prefer to question him now, while his information is still relatively fresh."
Mrs. Reva pondered his request, before looking Marsden straight in the eye and asked;
"What do you believe the worst case scenario for an attack would be Major?"
"They sneak up on us and start firing tear gas over the walls. Or get inside and attack from within," he said flatly. Mrs. Bell objected;
"We don't know that they have that capability!"
"We don't know that they don't," replied Marsden flatly, he turned back to Mrs. Reva.
"Do we have your permission to act ma'am? Or must we wait to react to a threat, rather than preventing it?"
"Do what you need to," said Reva, "But, and let me be clear on this, I do not expect or want to hear anything of any unwarranted aggression or other uncivilised acts towards the prisoner. Am I clear?"
"Perfectly Ma'am," replied Marsden. He and Chief Inspector Cook excused themselves, and Mr. Clayton departed soon after. Leaving just Mrs. Bell and Reva.
"You let them have far too much influence Charlotte," said Mrs. Bell.
"Perhaps," she agreed. "But like it or not they are the ones who protect us. Without them we, and everyone in this city, would be dead before long. And besides, it is the job of a soldier to give their lives for others... and who are we to stop them doing their jobs?"
Jason
Chester safe zone
Chester Castle
Z-day + 27
13:00
Jason advanced through the castle, heading for the armoury.
Only an hour after Marsden's visit to him in the hospital, they'd discharged him. After being released, Jason had sought out the duty officer and requested a wall guard assignment. Unfortunately Marsden had relayed instructions to the officer that if Jason turned up requesting a wall assignment, to assign him to something less stressful and tiring. However, Jason was happy to have been assigned to armoury duty, rather than something like helping an officer with some administrative task, something which had become known as 'brass kissing' among the recon teams.
He crossed the castle car park toward the armoury building. Apparently they'd needed to move the armoury from inside the castle to its own building while he was unconscious. The new building had once been the old army cadet detachment building. Jason wondered why they'd had to move the armoury from the sealed vault inside the main castle.
He knocked on the door and waited for a moment before a man in his mid 50's with a great ginger beard dressed in a shooting jacket and a pair of jeans opened it.
"Mr. Kincaid?" asked Jason. He'd been told they had a civvie volunteer in charge of the armoury today.
"Aye," the man said in a heavy Scottish accent. "An who wad ye be laddie?"
"Sergeant Jason Rees sir," Jason replied, offering a hand to the scot. "I was just released from hospital and was told you could do with a hand here."
"Tha' so?" he asked. "Well 'en. Come in laddie."
"Thank you," Jason said as he followed the man inside the armoury. The building was set up with weapons racks in isles like a supermarket, allowing soldier to just grab a weapons from the rack easily. There was also a work desk in the corner where Kincaid had a camping stove and a small gas bottle set up.
"Ther' are som' weapon crates in the back room. Ye can start by sortin throug' 'em. Can I offer ye a cup a tea?"
"Certainly and yes please," said Jason. He moved into the back room and was greeted by mounds of ammo and weapon crates.
He smiled, this was going to be fun. He grabbed a crate and moved it into the main room, opening it up and examining the contents.
"6 L86A2 LSW's." He announced, "Where do you want them?"
"Just pu' it o'er 'ere," said Kincaid, motioning to a spot near the work bench. Jason moved the box of light machine guns over to the motioned spot.
"So," began Kincaid, "Why were ye in hospital anyway?"
"My unit was attacked on a search and rescue operation," replied Jason, omitting certain details so that word of a bunch of gas armed nut jobs operating in the area wouldn't get out. "I was injured in the firefight."
"Oh, so ye are the reason for that lot," Kincaid pointed to the mass of weapons boxes. Jason cocked his head confused, so Kincaid explained.
"We got word tha' bunch o' heavily armed rebels attacked you guys. T' stop 'em gettin tha' lot, we wen' back to Fox and Dale barracks and cleared everythin' oot. We got enough firepower 'ere to fight World War 3."
Jason moved over to one of the larger boxes and opened it up. Inside was a Javelin Anti-tank guided missile. He passed a low whistle, this thing was one of the most powerful infantry weapons in the British Army's arsenal, and could take out almost any armoured vehicle on the planet. Unfortunately it was useless for fighting zombies.
"I think we should stow these ATGM's upstairs," Jason suggested. "They'll be out of the way there but accessible if we should need them."
"Good idea," said Kincaid. "Get to it then." Jason sighed.
"Yes sir," Jason grabbed the first case and huffed it up the stairs.
...
"Ok, I've put all the Jav's upstairs along with the M72 LAWs," reported Jason as he re-entered the armoury. He found Kincaid at the work bench, looking at an L86A2 completely stumped.
"What's up?" asked Jason as he looked at the LSW. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it externally.
"It's a problem I've been asked t' solve," said Kincaid. "Squads in the field an' on the wall 're being issued with these for use as marksman rifles. Problem is, the new recruits be putting them on full auto an' burnin' through their ammo. The Major wants' me tae takeaway the option fur full auto fire. But I daen't know how."
Jason thought for a moment, then smiled.
"I know how." He said. Kincaid looked at him.
"How?"
"We got any L98A2's knocking around in here?" asked Jason. Kincaid pointed to a rack of them in the corner. Jason picked one up and moved it over to the work bench.
The L98 and the L86, were mechanically, practically the same weapon. The only differences were that the L86 had full auto, and a longer barrel with a built in bipod (which gave it its excellent accuracy) and the L98 didn't. However, because they were both SA80 rifles, it was possible to interchange parts.
Jason cleared the L98 and before charging it, then setting it down on the work bench. He pulled out the locking pins and then removed the L98's lower receiver. He then laid the parts down and repeated the procedure on the LSW. He then swapped the lower receiver's over and reattached them and reset the locking pins. He performed a quick function test on both guns.
"There you go," announced Jason, "One semi-auto only L86A2 and one full auto capable L98A2."
"Where did ye learn ta do tha'?" asked Kincaid, impressed with the work.
"One of my shooting instructors in America showed me the same trick on a MK 12 with the lower receiver from an M4. He used the same trick in Iraq and told me it can be applied to most rifle series that share internal mechanisms. Anyway we probably should go and test it."
"Later," said Kincaid. "I've got another thing for you to do." He led Jason into the armoury's back room and brought him over to a stack of weapons boxes. They were all marked with 'GCHQ armoury Delta'.
"Whit dae ye make ay these?"asked Kincaid. Jason opened the box. Inside was a set of black suitcases. He pulled out one of them, took it to the work table and opened it. He was surprised at what he found.
Inside was a disassembled weapon: a folded stock and furniture for a rifle as well as barrel/ suppressor combination, bipod and optics. Jason's eyes widened, he knew what this was, and what it meant.
"An Arctic Warfare Covert," he almost whispered. This was a special ops rifle. He moved back to the case, there were some 5 more identical cases. He opened up another case baring the same markings; this one was stocked with Colt M4A1 SOPMODs. He found another stocked with various pistols including some FN Five Sevens, and another filled with weapons accessories such as rail mounted torches, varying optics, and suppressors. He went back to the work table and started assembling the covert in eager silence.
"What's sae special abit it?" asked Kincaid. "Tae me, it looks loch jist anither sniper rifle."
"This one is special," said Jason as he clicked the action on the rifle into the stock. "It's a member of the Accuracy International arctic warfare family chambered for 7.62 NATO rounds. This one however, is fitted with a 16 inch barrel with integral suppressor. With subsonic 7.62's this thing is as quiet as a .22. I can only think of 3 units that publically acknowledge its use." He looked at Kincaid.
"German KSK, American Delta Force... and the SAS."
"Special forces?" muttered Kincaid. "Ye 'hink special forces waur based at dale?"
"It's possible," said Jason. "It would also explain why I found an HK 417 during my run at Dale."
"That sae?" asked Kincaid. "I'm curioos t'kno ken hoo ye learnt sae much abit weapons. Why dornt we gab abit it over 'at cuppae tea?"
"Sounds good," said Jason. He finished assembling the covert and placed it down on the table on its bipod, before heading over to the corner where Kincaid was pouring a steaming brew.
Fireteam Viking
Chester safe zone
Chester Castel
Z-day + 27
19:12
Fred, Akio and Alex all returned to the barracks room together. They were surprised to find Jason sitting on his bunk, cleaning his rifle.
"About time you guys got here," he said as he put his rifle down.
"Well look who'd back from the dead," said Akio. "Congratulations Sergeant."
"Likewise, Lance," replied Jason. "So you guys all good?"
"Fine," replied Akio.
"Yeah, I'm alright," said Alex.
"I was fine after they got all the shot out of my ass," replied Fred. "Thanks for carrying me out by the way."
"Don't mention it," Jason smiled sweetly. "So what you guy's been doing while I've been out?"
"Training noobs," replied Akio with an evil grin.
"Yeah," said Fred. "It's been fun."
"Well then," said Jason, "If you guys have been training so much... GAS! GAS! GAS!" The 3 immediately threw off their hats and pulled their gasmasks out off their stowage pouches strapped to their left thigh and put them on. Jason timed them, and smiled.
"5 seconds," he announced. "Good. Right then, get those masks off and let's go get some chow." Jason stood up as the rest peeled off his masks.
"Ok," said Akio, "Let's go hit the mess..."
"The hell with the mess!" said Jason, "Let's go out into town and get some real food from a restaurant in town."
"Aww, what the hell," said Alex. "Could be fun, a night out on the town for once."
"Alright then," said Jason, "Let's go."
The team deposited the kit they didn't need, retaining their ration cards, sidearms and knives. Jason also noticed that the other 3 also retained their gasmasks, keeping them stowed in their left thigh pouches. They left the bunkroom and signed out of the castle before heading into town.
...
Over the last month since the outbreak, the temperature had noticeably dropped, even though it was May. Some people theorised that this was due to the sudden absence of mass air traffic and other major causes of global warming. This drop in temperature was the reason why most of the scavenger teams were going after insulation materials, warm clothing and fuel, to start preparations for what was predicted to be a tough winter.
In town, the team was offered an abundance of choice of where to eat. Before the fall, the centre of Chester had been packed with restaurants and shops of all nationalities and types. And while all the restaurants were more or less given the same food and served in the same portions, the different chef's often came up with different ways of serving the meal, making it more varied. This went someway to alleviate some of the tension and unrest amongst the civilian population.
After perusing the city streets for a while, the team decided on a small Italian restaurant just off from the main street behind the cathedral, Alex had heard some civvies talking about the good cooking here. The teenagers went inside and found the place to be packed. There was a buzz of conversation in the room that reminded them all of what it was like before the fall.
A waiter came up towards them, looking slightly concerned at the arrival of 4 armed teenagers in full camouflage.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Table for 4 please," replied Jason. The waiter looked slightly relieved.
"Certainly. Right this way," said the waiter. He motioned for the soldiers to follow. He led them through the restraunt to a table towards the back of the table. Some of the patrons cast an eye as the soldiers past, some of them particularly friendly.
"So what's on the menu tonight then?" asked Jason as he took his seat at their table.
"Tonight we have a meat and vegetable stew," said the waiter. "Can I see your ration cards please?"
The teenagers produced their ration cards, something that everyone in the city was issued with on a weekly basis. They governed the amount of food, drink (alcoholic or otherwise), clothes etc. that someone could withdraw on a weekly basis. However military rations were withdrawn on a different basis and thus, soldiers ration cards usually less fulfilled than the ones of the civilians and thus this was the source of some of the strife and angst towards the military. The waiter checked their ration cards and nodded in approval. He pulled out a notepad and pen.
"So what can I get you?"
"4 bowls of the stew and 4 diet cokes please," said Jason. The waiter took their orders and left to get their drinks, returning them shortly later.
"So then," asked Jason, "anyone want to know what I found in the armoury today?"
"Anything good?" asked Alex.
"Spec ops weapons," replied Jason, "12 cases of them. M4's and the like, and some suppressors."
"Those would be nice," said Fred. "Pull off some real call of duty shit with those."
"My thoughts exactly," replied Jason. The conversation continued and was soon enough supplemented by the arrival of their stew, which was, as predicted, better than what they would be serving in the mess hall. Akio continued regaling a tale of some recruit's screw up from one of the days Jason had been out in the hospital...
"So then," she said," I ordered the recruits to go get their combat kit, to see what they got. Most of them came back with webbing and chest rigs, but this one guy, came back with a full set of Osprey Body armour, complete with Kevlar plates."
"Really?" Jason was surprised, "that stuff is expensive."
"Yeah." said Akio, "Anyway so he comes out with it on. Everyone else is in lightweight webbing and this kid, who let it be said wasn't the fittest of people, is standing in line with full body armour. Anyway this armour was covered in mag pouches, utility pouches and all sorts of tactical gear."
"So what did you do?" asked Fred. He'd been in the hospital for a check up after the shot had been taken out of his backside.
"Simple," said Akio, "I ordered the lot of them to drop and give me 20. Needless to say the poor kid in full winter smock and body armour didn't get past 14. So I used him as an example, showing that there is such a thing as carrying too much kit."
"Fair enough," said Jason. "Too much kit will get you killed. Speaking of kit, how would you guys like to get some new kit? Seeing as we're being reasigned" The team leaned in abit more.
"We're listening," said Alex. "But what's wrong with our current kit?"
"Well," said Jason, "As I'm sure you're aware, the PLCE webbing you guys use is good but is an absolute nightmare to customise. I personally use a MOLLE system that I got and built myself, and the shop I got it from is within the city walls. Who's up from some shopping tomorrow?"
"Sounds good," said Fred. They were about to diversify into what pieces of kit they were going to get, when there was a loud crash. The team turned around to see an overturned table and an exceedingly angry man shouting at the waiter.
"What the hell is this?!" he shouted. "I ordered Meat and Potato stew! Not potato stew! There is no meat in this at all!"
"I'm sorry sir." Replied the waiter, "But we're low as it is and you've used your meat ration for the week..."
"Like hell I have!" the man shouted, "Now go get me a goddamn steak! Medium Rare!"
"Sir," said the waiter," We don't have enough meat left and even if we did you've used all your meat rations..." The man grabbed the waiter by the collar and got right up in his face.
"Do I look like I give a damn?" he growled menacingly. Fred stood up from his place at the table.
"Hey!" he shouted. The man looked over at Fred. "Let him go." The man dropped the waiter and looked towards Fred.
"And who the hell are you supposed to be kid?" the man asked. "Action man?"
"Like the man said," said Jason entering in to support Fred. "You've used up your meat ration. I suggest you leave and go find something else to eat somewhere else."
"And if I don't?" the man asked, "What are you going to do about it?"
"I'll arrest you and turn you over to the police for disorderly conduct," replied Jason. Alex and Akio were also on their feet, and the man quickly realized that he was being threatened by a bunch of teenagers. He wasn't going to stand for this! He took a step towards them, then stopped. Jason's hand was resting on his pistol. The man grunted as he left the restaurant. Jason and his team sat back down and the buzz of conversation slowly returned to the restaurant.
Marsden
Chester Police station
Chester safezone
Z-day + 27
15:00
Marsden and Cook waited patiently in one of the 'interview' rooms for their 'guest'. The guest in question had been a member of the group of thugs that attacked Fireteam Viking while they were protecting the Wilson family. He was the only one they were able to capture, as Viking either killed all the rest; or they got away...
But their guest knew where they went.
At that moment a uniformed policeman came in with their guest, who was blindfolded, wearing nothing of the original clothes he had worn on capture, but instead a set provided by the police. He was sat down in the chair opposite Cook and Marsden. The policeman removed his blindfold.
"Thank you officer," said Cook. "Dismissed." The policeman nodded and left the room, locking the door behind him. Cook then began proceedings.
"Good afternoon, Mr..."
"Jabba the Hutt," replied the prisoner. Cook sighed at the man's decision to be uncooperative. Marsden smirked slightly.
"Well then, 'Jabba'," said Marsden, "You've got yourself in a bit of a pickle. Firing on and assaulting British army personnel. Use of CS gas on innocent civilians, including I might add, children and a pregnant woman. Failure to cooperate on capture, It's not looking good for you."
"Bullshit are they army!" replied Jabba, "They're just kids! You're just a bunch of thugs yourselves!"
"I can assure you," said Marsden, "They are British army personnel. And I'm sure they would like to thank you personally for gassing them." Jabba shuddered at the thought slightly. He remembered seeing that Asian girl breaking necks and bones in hand to hand combat with fury he'd never seen the likes of before.
"However," Cook cut in. "While your actions have set you on a certain path, you needn't stay on it. The way I see it, you have 3 choices: 1. You turn yourself into me and the police, tell us what we need to know and go take your punishment, and eventually you'll be repatriated as a citizen in the safe zone. Or 2. You surrender to him," he gestured to Marsden, "as a prisoner of war."
"Oh yeah?" asked Jabba. "And what's option number 3?"
"Oh," said Marsden in an uncaring attitude. "We take you down as a terrorist. And I'm not sure the Geneva Convention applies anymore, meaning we can do whatever we want."
Jabba shuddered again slightly before he spoke, "What does it matter anyway?" he said, hanging his head, "To them I'm already dead. But if they find out I helped you they'll kill her."
"You mean her?" asked Cook. He produced a photo of an attractive woman in her mid 20's, about the same age as Jabba. His eyes went wide and he looked away. They knew this was her.
"From what we've gathered from the Wilson family," Said Marsden, "your gang is in control and provides protection, and uses the people to their own ends. If you tell us what we need, we can get them out and take down your former colleagues."
"Can you help her?" asked Jabba.
"If we get there in time. Yes," promised Marsden. "Now will you co-operate?"
Jabba gave a heavy sigh. He looked back up at Cook and Marsden; they could tell he was a man who'd made his mind up.
"Yes," said Jabba, "What do you want to know?"
4 hours later
Marsden's office
Chester Safezone
Marsden returned to his office. 'Jabba' had given everything he needed to know. He called Private Jackson in.
"Have Fireteam Wolf report to briefing room 2 in 20 minutes." He ordered, "I want them ready to roll on an extended close target recon at first light tomorrow."
"Yes sir," said Jackson "Where are they going sir?"
"The Broughton safezone."
"I thought it was overrun."
"It was."
Hello there
I hope you have enjoyed this chapter of HOTD: The British Outbreak.
As I said at the start, If you've got any critical feedback please give it to me in a review, if you don't and think its all great, please say so in a review. I'm one of those guys who is desperate for feedback, seriously just ask my old history teacher, he'll tell you.
I would like to thank my beta reader, Draco38 for his continually outstanding level of proof reading, you are awesome bro.
Anyway, If your reading this at time of release, I wish you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
From Jangocommando27