Chapter 17

Keeping the Faith

1930 – London, UK

The phone rang, sending an unexpected chill up the spines of everyone in the control room. Dave Warner arrogantly sniffed, anticipating the caller to squeal out some sort of threat issuing an ultimatum. He motioned for a tech to activate the call.

"So…. We have come to thissssss gentlemen," the caller said bypassing any formal salutations.

"This?" Warner replied.

That laugh…so sardonic and so prickly shot back along with, "Do you honestly think blinding me will alter the course?"

"The course of what precisely?" Warner said.

"Your conscience."

Now it was Dave Warner's turn to allow a small laugh to escape his lips and he said, "I am afraid you underestimate the situation you are in."

"Ah, truth be told, I was thinking the very same. What you continually fail to realize, is that I am in control."

"You are in control of nothing but that little box you have barricaded yourself inside of, nothing more." Warner countered.

Silence. Vacant silence. Then the lion roared, "Mark my words! Any of you attempt to touch me and I will summon Armageddon!"

"If you do not come out, you will not need to waste your time summoning anything," Warner said.

"Release the prisoners, Agent Warner!"

"Forgive me. I don't have the courtesy of your name sir." Warner said.

"Twenty minutes. That is all you need to know."

The MI5 Agent pursed his lips. Time was ticking them down into a very dark hole.

"The cell tower signals have been blocked as we requested," Jason Speers said moving to watch the video feed from MI5's drone circling the remains of 1L83.

Warner updated the MoD and Chief Constable of the call then proceeded to make contact with the Special Forces team.

Xxxxx

1945 – Undisclosed Location

A few of the windows had been shattered allowing a faint breeze to filter in but the humidity inside the carriage was becoming oppressive.

"Let's kick the windows out. We've got to get out of here!" A man in business attire said, further yanking open the knot of his necktie and pushing up his shirt sleeves.

"Stand down sir! We haven't been given clearance," Jackson said blocking the man's efforts.

"Well, it's fine for you, isn't it? You're standing by the only decent air coming into this thing through that door you blew off!"

Elvis ended his update from Warner and turned to watch the confrontation. "Enough!" he shouted.

"You can't keep us here!" the man said grabbing onto a seat back to launch himself towards Elvis.

"Back off!" Elvis ordered.

"No! How is this helping us? We're stopped, let us off I say."

"I said back off!" Elvis ordered.

"We need to get out of here!"

"I said back off!" Elvis took his forearm and forcefully pushed against the man's chest backing him into a seat." Now, sit! I'll let ya know when you're getting off!"

Nearby passengers shuddered, some whimpered and they all stared wide-eyed at this man who was controlling the next steps in their lives. Warner's update revealed that the explosives unit could not find any evidence that the carriage was armed, however, the external access to the driver's cabin was. Elvis was given orders to extract the passengers ASAP. They had precious little time to do so. He positioned himself in the middle of the aisle.

"Listen in. We are gonna get you off, but you need to follow our orders and move quick as ya can. Personnel outside will direct you where to go. Do you understand?"

A collective of hesitant and anxious affirmations responded. Heads bobbed as nervous hands gathered belongings.

"Alright. Row by row," Elvis said pacing to the rear indicating that evacuation will take place through the connecting door. He backed up ushering the activity to prevent massive panic. A woman reached out a hand gingerly grasping his bloodied arm.

"Did you find her up there?" she asked, cheeks stained with tears and grime.

"What?" Elvis asked surprised by the question as he nudged the next passenger along.

"I don't know her name. She was sat next to me and went missing."

Elvis looked towards the crew station, mind whirling with possibilities. "There were no females," he finally said and felt the woman's tremulous grasp tighten.

"What could have happened to her?" her voice strained.

Elvis squeezed a hand on top of hers. "Keep moving," he said. "get to safety."

Xxxxx

1950 – Hereford, UK

Georgie heard the shrill ring of the doorbell. All of her senses were heightened, and the sound resonated like fingernails on a chalkboard to her. She lifted herself up and away from Daniel and took a cursory look through the window curtains. The vehicle parked outside was not military issue and she breathed a little easier as she moved to the hallway. Once the bolt was turned over, she opened the front door and was eye to eye with Toni Blythe.

"Hey! I can't stand it! I had to stop over," Toni said, not waiting for a formal invitation, and stepped over the threshold.

"Do you know anything?" Georgie asked walking them both into the lounge.

"Hell no. You know the drill. The only thing I heard was that Spunky is down. No details about it though."

Georgie blanched. "Where did you hear that?"

"From Peters," Toni said shoving car keys into her small crossbody bag. "You know he's like radar for any shit."

Georgie picked at her fingernails and said, "They've blacked out coverage."

"Roger that."

"What do ya reckon?" Georgie asked. It felt good to have a friend with her now.

"No clue. Not a single one mate. The blown track stopped him, but what's going on inside that thing is anyone's guess," Toni said eyeing Daniel sat on the floor surrounded by an arsenal of toys. "Gosh. He's getting big."

Rolling her eyes and smiling Georgie said, "and getting into everything as well."

Daniel stared at Toni. "Giving me the once over are ya?" she said crouching down to meet his gaze. He continued to stare but gave his mother a questioning look. Toni chuckled, "Well, at least he's not growling at me."

Georgie laughed, "Elvis calls it his Lane stare."

"It absolutely is!" Toni agreed with a wide grin. "He is you all over."

Georgie smiled thoughtfully. Daniel did favor her features, but he had his father's stubborn streak, or perseverance, or whatever you wanted to call it. Toni watched the grey clouds form around her friend and said, "He's coming home. They're both coming home. We have to believe that Georgie."