Chapter 16
The helicopter crested a hill and Ford gazed in awe at the scene below him; what had, so recently, been a busy agricultural and industrial city lay in ruins. Thick clouds of dust billowed upwards as the helicopter came into land on the improvised pad. As soon as the pilot throttled down the engine, volunteers slid open the rear doors and started unloading the relief supplies stowed in the rear of the aircraft. A human chain of volunteers carried the supplies to a collection of marquees, serving as a field hospital. The flag of the Red Crescent fluttered in the breeze.
Ford and Emcan jumped down from the aircraft, keeping their heads low for fear of decapitation by the still-spinning blades. When well clear of the rotor disc, they climbed onto a pile of rubble to survey their surroundings.
"Ford, a hardened journalist, found the spectacle difficult to comprehend: "How many…?"
"This is…was…a city of eighty thousand people. So far, just a…handful have survived", his guide informed him.
Having unloaded, the pilot waited until a series of stretchers, carrying those patients in need of more specialised treatment, were placed in the rear of the aircraft. He throttled up once more and the helicopter rose on a thick, choking cloud of dust. The two men watched as it disappeared into the deep blue sky. As the engine faded, Ford realised just how silent the place had become. Not even birdsong broke the stillness, the only sound came from mobile generators, flown in to provide power for the hospital. The rubble continually shifted beneath the two men's feet as they strode towards the encampment.
"Do you know what this reminds me of?" panted Ford.
"No?"
"Hiroshima," replied Ford, "Except there's no scorching"
"If I was a religious man," replied the Turk, "I would now be praying for salvation, but it looks as if the Almighty has forsaken this city." He pointed ahead; what had once been a fine mosque was now little more than a pile of colourful debris; the once-fine minarets shattered beyond recognition.
Exhausted, Catherine finally broke onto a country lane. At last; signs of life; in the distance, she could see a Transit van coming towards her. Desperately waving at the vehicle, she was relieved to see it slow down and stop.
"Thank you Lieutenant. Dismissed." Said Fairfax. Waterman saluted smartly, turned on his heel and left.
It had been a lengthy interrogation but by the end, Straker was certain that no fact had been overlooked.
He drained the last of his by-now cold coffee and placed his notepad into his attaché case. Unseen by Fairfax, Straker also switched off the micro cassette recorder, secreted in the case. He then closed and locked the case.
Standing, he extended his hand. "Thank you for your co-operation Group Captain, I have everything I need." Fairfax stood and shook the extended hand, followed by that of Johns who had barely uttered more than a brief introduction.
"I'll walk you to your car."
"Thanks."
To those unfortunate enough to have encountered him, he was known as Bill. That wasn't his real name of course, but the Police of three counties had no way of knowing that.
He preferred to travel the minor roads; there was less likelihood of being stopped by the Authorities. He was fairly certain that the van that he'd bought, no questions asked and paid for with cash the previous week, was unknown to them but he'd rather not have to explain the items he kept in the back.
Normally cautious, he would keep his head down and avoid picking up hitchhikers by day but there was something about this young girl that he couldn't resist.
As the he slid the passenger door open, he took a proper look at the girl: Blonde, blue-eyed. More than a little confused….
He licked his lips in anticipation and smiled. "What's a pretty thing like you doing out here?" He asked.
"Please, help me," she gasped, "I need to get away from the Flying Saucer"
Even better; she was obviously on drugs.
He leant across her, and slid the door shut. The smell of her sweat excited him.
He put the van into gear
"You just come along o' me, Old Bill will take care of you"
As he changed gear, he allowed his hand to brush her leg. No response.
He smiled to himself. So young, so innocent, so easy…
As before, the Alien weapon had been set up on a firing stand at one end of the tunnel. Taking great care to stay out of the firing line, Halliday examined the weapon. He noticed the silvery gleam. "Nickel plated?" he asked.
"Don't think so. " came the reply. "We couldn't get a sample off it to carry out an analysis. I even tried an angle grinder..."
"And…?"
"We need a new angle grinder, sir"
"Well, let's see this wonder weapon in action, then"
Halliday followed Hickmott to the firing point.
"Prepare for Firing!" Hickmott called.
As before, Boorman pressed the switch to activate the high-speed cameras. A moment later, an indicator lit up to indicate that the equipment was ready.
Inside the tunnel, the gun clicked once. This time, the strobes failed to trigger. No projectile had tripped the switches. A red light showed on the test panel
"MISFIRE", said Hickmott.
Boorman and Halliday followed Hickmott back into the chamber. The cameras would need to be reloaded before the test could be re-run.
Carefully, Hickmott, approached the weapon, looking for a simple cause for the failure. As he approached, he became aware of a high-pitched humming. Gingerly, he touched the body of the weapon with the back of his hand. Cursing, he snatched his hand away; the damned thing was hot.
"Everyone out! NOW!" he yelled.
To a man, everyone in the tunnel headed for the emergency exits. Just in time; seconds later, the Alien gun exploded.