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Chapter 7
Disaster Calls
1140 – Undisclosed Location
Everyone in the passenger car were quiet for the most part. Occasionally a muffled sob could be heard here and there but no one wanted to be a hero and meet an untimely end. Elvis wondered if anyone else onboard was capable of staging a resistance? It was a difficult discernment for him. He had Laura to consider and most certainly had to protect her at all cost. He knew Spanner had received his text by now and Elvis was accustomed to radio silence when embedded in the field. He simply had to wait out.
His adrenaline coursed through him at a controlled level. He had always excelled in worse case scenarios, but now he had a wife and baby son at home and a daughter at his immediate side. On a broader, external scope, he had a train car loaded with innocent lives who were trying to make it through their day. He had to focus. He had to make critical decisions and it was clear the couple across from him were weak allies…..or were they?
"What are your names?" Elvis asked boring his gaze into them. They both looked at him suspiciously, he seemed to have a lot to say about their situation. Laura looked up at her father when they did not respond she said,
"My name is Laura. This is my daddy."
The couple looked from daughter to father. "Does daddy have a name?" the man asked.
"Elvis," Elvis replied.
The couple chuckled and exchanged glances. "What's this? Some kind of sick code name?"
"For real?" the woman asked.
"Indeed!" Laura said defensively.
"How is Graceland these days?" the man asked, utterly taken with his own humor.
"Never been mate," Elvis answered casually, accustomed to the abuse he endured because of his name.
"Drew. Drew Woods," the man finally offered. "This is my fiancée Penny."
Elvis respectfully nodded his acknowledgement. Laura had been schooled from early on not to disclose details about her father to strangers. She remained silent and Elvis was proud of her.
Xxxxx
1150 – London, UK
Warner and Speers met with the collective counter-terrorism team in the planning room. It was a setting of controlled chaos. Computer and CCTV screens were popping with activity and to the untrained eye it was a nightmare of sensory overload.
"What have we got Cal?" Warner asked planting himself behind the specialist monitoring CCTV surveillance of the rail systems.
"They're on a dean-end track sir. Full throttle."
"Paddington Depot Master received a call that 1L83 would not be making it into the station as planned," Speers said. "The switch operators are investigating how a diversion was created on the track in the first place. Much to the engineer's credit, the damn thing hadn't derailed."
Warner took everything in stride, thrusting his hands in his pockets as he surveyed the available data and asked, "Did the caller cough up any identifying features?"
"Negative. Male voice, electronically altered." Speers replied watching the forsaken train on screen.
"Translation program?"
"Nope. In all due respect Dave, it was an English-speaking bloke."
"Let me never accuse you of being a comfort to me Speers." Warner cheeked.
"The call emanated from a voice over internet protocol," a female voice joined in causing Warner to turn abruptly.
"This is Jackie Jenkins Dave, our crack communications specialist," Speers said.
"You can trace that, yes?" Warner asked.
"Can. And have actually. It is an obscure IP address but traces to the train itself. The sender is of course encrypted," Jenkins said with razor-sharp confidence.
"MoD has been apprised?" Warner asked checking his watch, wondering how much time they could not afford to waste.
"Metro is on it as well, ramping up their CT units, and yes, Baxter has been brought up to date."
"Media notified?" Warner asked, chewing on the insides of his cheeks.
"Negative. The odd thing is that there were very little calls of distress from the passengers." Speers said leaning in to get a closer look at the rogue train on the screen.
"They've completely subdued them," Warner said, frown deepening as he too leaned in closer to study anything, anything at all that could be a potential clue.
Xxxxx
1220 – Hereford, UK
"I need to speak to Colonel Godfrey ASAP!" Spanner said bursting into the colonel's private office.
"Sorry, uh…Lieutenant Thompson, is it?" Sergeant Flynn said eyeing the name badge, certain to commit it to memory and angry to be taken off guard as he was. "What do you think you are about?"
"ASAP Sergeant! Can't make it any clearer than that!"
Flynn arrogantly skidded his wooden chair back and knocked on the colonel's door.
Yes?!" Came the gruff roar from inside.
Opening the door with subtle regard Flynn said, "Lieutenant Thompson sir, says it is imperative he speaks with you." Before Flynn could accept the colonel's consent Spanner shoved past him to gain access to Godfrey.
"What the bloody hell is this?" Godfrey demanded rising to his heavily booted feet.
"Sir. I received a distress text from Captain Harte."
"Harte?" Godfrey said in disbelief.
"Affirmative sir. He is in the process of escorting his daughter back to London."
"Yes…yes…I am aware of that. What is his distress about?"
"The train has been hijacked sir."
Godfrey froze, but his flesh felt like it was on fire. "What?!"
"Elvis texted me sir. Unknown tangos. The train has been diverted off track."
Godfrey blanched but recovered admirably. "Get your team on. Wait out. Flynn!"
"Sir!" The sergeant responded with a stiff spine.
"Get me General Atkinson!" Godfrey ordered, determined gaze never wavering from the Special Forces Operative standing in front of him. Flynn's eyes shot to Spanner before a curt nod to his superior before he hurried out the door.
"How in fuck does Harte manage to get himself wrapped up in this shit?" Godfrey said sitting down, bracing his elbows on the desk, practically dragging the weathered features from his face with his hands.
Spanner smirked behind his beard and said with a confident tilt of his chin, "No disrespect sir, but at least we have eyes onboard."