CHAPTER 21 ROMAN #2
“You ready?” Victor asks, walking over to sit next to me. He pulls up his jeans and straps a knife to his ankle.
“Yeah. You guys manage to find out anything more today?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “We will be going in blind for most of these missions. Whatever is going on in there is more confidential than Porton Down.”
I nod at the reference. Porton Down is England’s very own Area 51.
Instead of aliens or whatever conspiracy theories Area 51 is bogged down with, Porton Down is a chemical and biological research facility.
I went a couple of years ago. To say I was impressed is an understatement.
A lot of my earlier weapons were inspired by that visit.
Standing up, I collect my comms from Atlas and we check them three times before he is happy. I crack my neck to ease some tension as I watch my future wife arm herself with weapons. It is sexy as fuck.
One of the best things the government ever did was misinform people about access to guns in England.
I am not sure why the general public, or the rest of the world, think we cannot access them when we most certainly can, but it does come in handy.
Walking the streets, nobody thinks to stare too closely at the bulge at the back of your jacket, and if they did, their first thought would not be that I had a firearm.
Now, is it as loose as America? No. But our police, our armies, hell, even our farmers can own guns, and those same guns find themselves on the streets in inner cities like London, sanded down to destroy the serial number.
“Listen,” I say, turning back to Victor, who is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
“If anything happens tonight, I need you to focus on getting Fae out alive if I can’t, okay?
” My voice drops as close to a whisper as possible without being suspicious.
The last thing I need is Fae questioning what we are talking about.
“Of course, mate, you don’t even need to question it.” Victor goes to tap me on the shoulder and pauses midway with a pained expression. I chuckle. Unlike Riggs, Victor and Felix actually try to respect my boundaries.
“Habit,” he mutters with a smirk, I shake my head.
“Promise me, Vee. I…” I clear my throat. “You leave me behind if you need to, okay? If she tries to save me or does anything that could hurt her, I need you to get her out of there. Felix will try to appease her somehow. Do not let it happen. She needs him. They both need to get out.”
“I will, I promise,” Victor pauses, “good to know you don’t care if me, Riggs, or Atlas are left behind.”
I roll my eyes; this group are so melodramatic.
“Right, let’s go,” Felix barks.
We each pick up a bag and make our way back through the tunnels to the door.
Walking through the churchyard, Atlas, Felix and Riggs take one car, while me, Victor and Fae take the other.
I jump into the driver’s seat after settling Fae into the passenger side.
Victor climbs into the back as “Crown by Stormzy” booms through the speakers.
The only other sound is the rain smashing against the windscreen and the low hum of the engine.
Tension builds as the sat nav slowly counts down the minutes until we arrive.
I sneak glances at Fae, who seems lost in her own head. Gently placing my hand on her leg, she snaps her head towards me and gives me a small smile as I squeeze her thigh.
Before long, we arrive. The area looks completely deserted. We park half a mile away from the warehouse. The backroads of Essex are tiny, narrow and curving, perfect for doing dark deeds unseen and perfect for us to discover things that were meant to stay secret.
“You good?” I ask.
Fae just nods sharply.
Undoing both our seatbelts, we make a run from the rain to Atlas’ van as he opens the back door for us.
Jumping in, I catch my breath. Atlas has an entire system here.
The back of the van is stripped of anything that is not useful.
Matte black walls swallow the light. One side is taken up by mounted monitors; four small ones and one central screen already alive with static feeds and map overlays.
No glow escapes the tinted windows and the soundproof walls trap every noise inside.
It feels like a coffin on wheels, built for watching people who do not know they’re being watched.
Atlas drops into the folded chair in the centre like this is his living room.
It’s strange seeing him in his element. He’s always calm and methodical, but having it laid out in front of you like this makes me realise how much of a badass my friend actually is.
Riggs and Felix have turned in their seats up front, their bodies angled just enough to see the screens.
Their eyes are sharp, hands idle but ready.
Atlas reaches into a crate at his feet and starts passing out extra electronics.
“Cameras,” he mutters. “They are attached by a magnetic clip. Put them on your chest or collar, just do not cover them. If you can see the camera, then I can see the picture. And remember, if I say freeze, you freeze. If I say pull back, you pull back. No heroics.”
No one argues. The tension feels almost suffocating in the small van.
We all watch as Atlas starts typing and pulling up our different viewpoints.
He flicks a switch; the main monitor sharpens into a satellite image of the dark outline of the warehouse.
Atlas reaches for a tablet, his thumb moving quickly over the screen.
“Drones up,” he announces and Felix makes a committal noise in the back of his throat.
A faint hum joins the low throb of the engine as the feed shifts.
The warehouse grows larger frame by frame.
It sits low and wide at the end of the access road, its concrete darkened by the rain.
There are no lights on inside, no security lamps, just blank windows and a loading bay yawning open like a mouth that hasn’t been used in years.
Weeds claw through cracked tarmac and fencing is half collapsed in places.
I share a glance with Felix, a silent conversation passing between us, before I flick my gaze to Fae. She nibbles on her bottom lip, probably coming to the same conclusion. Atlas leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Give me two minutes,” he says. “I will map the blind spots and then you can go in.”
I pull out my gun, which sets off a chain reaction and we all systematically check our magazines. After a pregnant pause, Atlas tells us it’s time. Riggs, Victor, Fae and I exit the van, leaving Felix to cover Atlas and coordinate with us on the ground.
“Testing,” I hear Atlas say in my ear.
“Clear,” I respond.