Blackout

Lieutenant Aiden “Harbinger” Redland sat quietly in General Pierce’s warmly furnished office. He leant back slightly in the vinyl upholstered chair; he had already been waiting for twenty minutes to see the General, he saw no reason not to relax a little. The chair creaked as his back pressed against it.

The steel door enclosing the entrance to the General’s office swung open forcefully as General Pierce entered briskly strode in.

Pierce quickly rose from his chair and stood firmly at attention.

The general waved his hoof lazily. “As you were,” he said.

The Lieutenant waited for Pierce to take his seat before he cautiously followed suit. Redland stomped his hooves in anticipation; he had no idea what this meeting would be about.

Pierce reached for his desk lamp and switched it on. The light illuminated the writing pad that was located squarely in the centre of the illuminated area. He paused for a moment, opened his right hoof desk drawer and retrieved a manila folder; he placed it gracefully on the desk in front of Redland.

“You are undoubtedly aware that I dispatched half of Alpha team, Captain Knox, Toast and Rook, to an undisclosed location yesterday,” the General began, “Knox and the others were under orders to check in at 0530 this morning, they did not, and have not responded to communications since.”

“You want me to go in?” Redland asked.

“That’s right, Lieutenant,” he began, “Assemble the rest of Alpha team, take a Black Hawk to Borenai, find and assist Knox and the others with their mission and extract them when you’re done.”

“Their mission, Sir?”

Pierce tapped the folder in front of Redland. “It’s all in the brief,” the general replied, “Convoy will pilot, take Mouse as a scout and I want you in command until you meet up with Knox, from then on I want you to follow his instructions.”

“Yes, Sir,” said Redland.

*

The three members of Redlands team assembled in the CIC to receive their mission briefing. Redland positioned himself between them and placed the manilala folder on the table, removing the contents and placing half a dozen photos in a horizontal line and a map of Borenai above it.

“Knox, Toast and Rook have been sent into a quarantine zone,” Redland said as he pointed to the map, “they were to land their zodiac here,” he indicated the western beach, close to the outskirts of Borenai.
“Why did they take a Zodiac?” asked Mouse.

“The Op was Recon, and therefore extremely low profile,” he replied.

Redland paused and then indicated the two possible entry points to the town, the central entrance between the cliff faces and the mine directly to the south.

“Given the nature of the mission it’s a fair bet that Knox opted to take the tunnels, as opposed to a frontal assault through the central entrance,” said Redland, “if this is the case our updated aerial survey, conducted at 0600 this morning, suggests that the quickest exit would place them in an area close to the town centre.”

“Should we expect a lot of hostility?” asked Convoy.

Knox pointed at the pictures on the desk. “These are aerial snap-shots taken at the time of our cartographic survey,” he told them, “certain areas, such as the first mine exit, are almost completely clear of infected. However, for some reason the fenced in area around the second exit is crawling with them.”

“Knox, Toast and Rook are perfectly capable soldiers, why send us?” asked Mouse.

“At 0530 this morning the first team missed their scheduled check in via the zodiac’s long range radio transmitter. They’re sending us to rendezvous with the others and, if they have been compromised, finish their mission.”

“Which is?” asked Convoy.

“To gather original samples of the virus, which we believe are located at a treatment clinic that Morozov ran in early 2001.”
“Treatment clinic, my ass,” said Mouse, “the guy practically caused this mess.”

“How can you know that the samples are still there, it’s been five years,” Convoy commented.

“We don’t, but if they are they may help us derive a cure,” he replied.

Redland took all the photos and the map off the table and placed them in the folder.

“We aren’t going in silent this time,” said Redland, “Pierce has authorized use of a Black Hawk. Convoy, I want you to pilot and Mouse, I want you to co-pilot and keep an eye out for our team and any survivors. I’ll take one of the Gatling guns.”

Redland took the folder off the desk and stepped away. They both turned to face him.

“When we locate Alpha team, we will take the chopper to the clinic and finish this,” he said.

Convoy tapped his hoof against the edge of the table as he straightened his back. “When do we leave?” he asked.
“One hour,” Redland replied, “so head to the armory, kit up and gear up.”

“I’ll only take a pistol, a good scout doesn’t need any more,” said Mouse.

“You’re right,” said Convoy, “so maybe you should take an M60.”

Mouse scowled, Redland laughed.

“Automatics are requisite, but keep your kit as light as possible without compromising reinforcement,” he began, “if we get rushed I don’t want to be the only one who has enough firepower to handle it.”

Mouse sighed but Redland remained firm.

“Are we clear?” Redland asked.

“Yes, Sir,” they replied.