The Lingering Read online

  “There are no more men to send,” replied Archer. “Budgets have been cut, and recruitment is down. The agency barely had enough personnel before the attacks increased. Now it’s stretched to breaking point. Doctor, if you want these villagers to survive, then we have to move them to a safe zone. I’m no happier about it than you are, but we have no choice.”

  Bartholomew sighed and threw her hands in the air. “Very well, how soon will the move begin?”

  “The choppers have been ordered for later today. My men and I will hold position outside the village until the evac is finished, then we’ll head for the next village.”

  Bartholomew turned and whispered to her colleagues, then returned her attention to him. “We won’t have time to dismantle this unit, or gather all our equipment.”

  “Then leave it all. Just take your data, and we’ll arrange to have everything else sent to you.”

  “Okay, Mr Archer, you win.”

  “It’s not about winning or losing, Doctor. It’s about making sure the clean survive. Now if you’ll excuse us, my men and I have work to do.”

  Archer strode towards the airlock with his men hot on his heels. After suiting up, they returned to their duties of guarding the village.

  He and his team held a defensive position just outside the settlement until the last of the clean were in the air. Darkness was closing fast, so they camped the night and began their long trek to the next clean village in the morning.

  Chapter 8

  Location: Protection Agency headquarters, Whitehall, London

  Date: April 12th 2013

  Time: 11:20 a.m.

  Archer stared at his watch for the tenth time. It had been close to three years since his last visit to HQ, and it always made him nervous when they summoned him out of the blue. One upside of returning to London, it gave his men some time for R&R, which they all sorely needed. For close to two years, he and his team had spent most of their lives deep in one jungle or another. Civilization gave them the opportunity to catch up with old friends, and the chance to eat decent food again.

  The door to his left opened, and Paula Gerald, (Director Kenneth Bishop’s secretary), poked her head out from behind it.

  “He’s ready to see you now, Nathan.”

  “Do you have any idea what this is about?”

  Paula shook her head. “Not a clue.”

  Archer laughed. “Come on, Paula, you know everything that goes on in here. Some say you know more than the old man.”

  Paula shook her head grimly. “Not this time. Whatever it is he wants to talk to you about, it’s completely hush-hush.”

  Archer got to his feet and followed Paula to his superior’s office. He turned to the woman at his side and said, “Wish me luck. Every time I get called to see the old man, it means something bad is on its way for my team.”

  Paula smiled. “The reason you get all the tough jobs is the old man knows you and your men can handle them.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes I wish someone else could handle the crap, and leave the cream for us.”

  Paula knocked on the door, and opened it without waiting for a response. “Director Bishop, Nathan Archer is here to see you.”

  “Good to see you again,” said Bishop as he struggled out of his seat.

  At close to seventy years of age, Bishop had ruled over the protection agency for thirty years. The old man was a straight shooter, and never treated anyone below him as anything other than equal. Archer liked him a great deal.

  “It’s good to see you, Boss. What’s cooking?”

  “The usual, Nathan, the usual. I take it you remember Dr Bartholomew?” Bishop gestured to his right.

  Archer turned just in time to see Dr Kathryn Bartholomew leaving her chair to head towards him.

  “Of course I do. It’s good to meet you again.” He offered her his hand and she shook it vigorously. He was surprised by her firm grip. “I take it you had something to do with my recall from the field?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. I needed a team, and Director Bishop recommended you and your men, so here you are.”

  “I see,” said Archer as he turned back to his superior. “So what’s this all about, Boss?”

  Bishop settled back into his chair, and gestured for the two to take a seat. “I think I’ll let Dr Bartholomew explain her findings first, then I’ll tell you were we come in.”

  Archer looked towards the attractive woman on his right. She shifted in her seat. “When you found me and my team, we were on the verge of a breakthrough. This breakthrough could mark the end of The Lingering once and for all.”

  Archer looked at Bishop with shock and surprise. The old man answered his quizzical expression with a slow nod, then steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. It soon became apparent to Archer that his superior had no intentions of interrupting the doctor, so he returned his gaze to her.

  “My family’s history is deeply tangled with The Lingering,” she continued. “For a hundred and seventy years, my family has dedicated itself to the eradication of The Lingering, and finally the finish line is in sight.

  “My team and I have discovered an enzyme that attacks The Lingering virus. While the enzyme has not yet shown signs of killing it, I believe with a few modifications, it could. The trouble is the virus has mutated thousands of times since it was first discovered, and we need the original virus to make our modifications to the enzyme.”

  Archer rubbed his forehead as he tried to absorb what he had just heard. “You say you need the original virus, but it doesn’t exist anymore. So aren’t you back to square one?”

  “That’s where we come in,” said Bishop, “we’re going to help her find an early version of the virus.”

  Dumbfounded, and somewhat confused by what he had just heard, Archer simply stared at the old man. Finally, he said, “Sorry, I must be missing something. How can the Protection Agency help?”

  Bishop pursed his lips, then began. “Nathan, you know the attacks on the clean have been increasing, why do you think that is?”

  Archer looked towards Dr Bartholomew. “I’m guessing whoever is orchestrating the attacks has got wind of the doctor’s findings.”

  Bishop nodded and got to his feet. “But why go to all that bother when the enzyme is useless without the original version of the virus?”

  Archer pondered this. “I take it the enzymes are produced by the clean, so it makes sense to eliminate the source of the enzyme.”

  Bishop sat on the edge of his desk and stared Archer in the eye. “Yes, but why do that when the second thing needed for a cure doesn’t exist. Surely it’s a waste of resources carrying out the attacks. That is, unless you have something to protect. ”

  Archer’s brow furrowed. “Are you saying there is still a source for the original virus?”

  Bishop smiled and slapped his leg. “Exactly! And where do you suppose the source of the virus could be found?”

  Archer stared out of the window as his mind worked on the conundrum. “Well, the virus first started back in the mid-nineteen hundreds, so The Lingering from that time would carry the original virus. The trouble is The Lingering only last around ten years unfed, so they’ll all be gone by now.”

  “That’s what we thought,” said Dr Bartholomew as she approached Bishop’s side. “But your agency has uncovered some unsettling information.”

  Archer fixed his boss with a steely gaze. “What have you found, Boss?”

  Bishop turned and headed for a filing cabinet, a second later he threw a large dossier onto Archer’s lap. “It turns out The Lingering can last a very long time … if fed.”

  Archer looked at the file in his lap, and then back to Bishop. “Who would be mad enough to feed a Lingerer?” He looked at Bartholomew. “Sorry, Doctor, I mean who would feed one of The Lingering for so long?”

  “The Westbourne Corporation, that’s who,” replied Bishop flatly.

  “What?”

  Bartholomew stood and began to pace. “One
of my ancestors, a Dr Rupert Bartholomew, along with another man, struck the deal to ship The Lingering to Australia. The man they chose was less then reputable; he was the founder of the Westbourne Corporation. It turns out he would do anything for money, including feeding The Lingering human flesh.”

  Archer collapsed back in his chair. “This can’t be true.”

  She stopped her pacing and stared at him intently. “I’m afraid it’s all too true, and his first client was Queen Victoria. Apparently she met with Westbourne and offered him a fortune to feed her husband, Prince Albert.”

  Archer looked at Bishop. “How long have you known about this?”

  “Not until several months ago. Someone on the inside of the corporation leaked us the information.”

  “How on earth did he feed them?”

  Bartholomew answered Archer’s question. “The British government evacuated all its citizens, but it didn’t see the indigenous population as worth saving. Westbourne started with them.”

  Archer got to his feet. “We were taught Australia was uninhabited.”

  Bartholomew nodded. “We were all taught that, but it was a lie.”

  Archer shook his head, and grabbed her by the arm. “Wait, you said that’s how they started feeding them. How are they doing it now?”

  Bishop took Archer’s wrist, and eased his subordinate’s hand free of the young doctor’s arm. He then said, “We’re not sure, but we think they’re taking the homeless. Maybe many of this country’s missing persons can be attributed to the Westbourne Corporation.”

  Archer could feel his anger rising. “Why aren’t we kicking down the doors of their head office? Surely we have enough to lock up whoever is in charge.”

  Bishop released Archer’s wrist. “Sir Richard Westbourne is in charge, and yes we have enough to arrest him. However, we don’t want to show our cards too soon.”

  “I get it now,” murmured Archer through gritted teeth. “Westbourne is behind the attacks on the clean, and he has the only original version of the virus under his control. He’s terrified that the doctor’s discovery will put him out of business.”

  Bishop nodded slowly. “The Westbourne Corporation is the largest privately owned business in the world. It turns over billions of pounds, all derived from one thing – the shipping and handling of The Lingering. If the doctor’s discovery brings an end to the disease, then he’s out of business. Apparently he’s willing to do anything to protect his interests.”

  Archer returned to his seat and gathered his composure. “Let’s cut to the chase. What do you want my team to do?”

  Dr Bartholomew looked at Bishop, and he nodded for her to explain. “I need to get some tissue from one of the oldest Lingering, which means I have to get to Australia.”

  Archer perched himself on the edge of his seat. “Wait, you want to head to a country full of The Lingering, and then you want to find the oldest one? That’s suicide! There must be hundreds of thousands of Lingering there by now.”

  She smiled weakly, but it did little to hide her fear. “We estimate there are closer to ten million Lingering, but I don’t think they’ll be an issue. Think about it. If they’re still feeding the oldest of The Lingering, then they have to keep them close to where the human guards are. Besides, we don’t necessarily need the tissue of the oldest one, just tissue from one that was around at the time of the outbreak. I think these oldest ones will be kept together, so they should be easy to locate.”

  “Our Intel suggests that they keep them somewhere in the old abandoned city of Melbourne,” said Bishop as he headed back to his seat.

  Bartholomew looked at the old man and nodded. She then returned her gaze to Archer. “We need to get in and out unnoticed. Hopefully no one will ever know we were there.”

  Archer looked towards Bishop. “How do you propose to get us there, Boss? Australia is covered by a no fly zone.”

  “Shipments of The Lingering pass through Tasmania first, and general shipping is used to move supplies to the region. These shipments are protected by the Royal Navy, so you, your team and Dr Bartholomew will be aboard the HMS Singleton. Once the ship reaches Bass Strait, a chopper will take you all to the mainland. If the chopper keeps a meter above the sea, then radar won’t be able to detect it.”

  Archer nodded and crossed his arms. “Do we have anyone on the inside?”

  Bishop shook his head. “No, you’ll be on your own. The chopper will return to the drop-off point after ninety-six hours. If you’re not there, it’s ordered to leave without you.”

  Archer got to his feet with the file Bishop had given him, held tightly in hand. “I take it all the info I need is in here?” He raised the file and gestured to it.

  Bishop nodded. “It is.”

  “Okay then, I’m going to break the news to my team.” He shook Bishop’s hand. “Boss,” he shook Bartholomew’s next. “Doctor,” then he headed for the door.

  “Nathan.”

  Archer turned and saw Bishop looking more concerned than he had ever seen him before. “Yes, Boss?”

  “Make it clear to your men that this may be a one-way trip.”

  “Boss, we always think our missions are one-way, this one is no different.”

  Bishop smiled weakly. “Good show. Now, I’m sure you have lots to do, so get to it.”

  Archer nodded, and then both he and Bartholomew left.

  As they walked back to the lifts, Archer asked, “Doctor, have you ever had to face a biter?”

  She stopped and stared at him. “Mr Archer, you know I don’t like those types of words. They are demeaning and …”

  Archer held up his hand. “Yeah-yeah, you can preach to me later. Just answer the question.”

  “Of course I’ve dealt with, ‘biters’, as you call them.”

  “So you’ve faced them in the field?”

  She averted her eyes from his, and looked back towards Bishop’s office. “Yes, I’ve dealt with them in the field.”

  “Doctor, look at me.” She turned her eyes back to him. “You know what I meant by facing them in the field. Have you ever been attacked by one of them?”

  She shook her head slowly. “No, I’ve never been attacked. The Lingering I deal with have always been captured and subdued.”

  “Have you ever seen a swarm?”

  She shook her head again.

  Archer rubbed at his chin and let out a sigh. “Doctor … Kathryn, I know you have a lot of experience researching The Lingering, but facing them head on is a whole different kettle of fish. When we first met, you judged me and my men pretty badly, but you haven’t seen what we’ve seen.

  “You’ve dealt with The Lingering under controlled conditions, whereas we have to cut them down. You said we need to get in and out of Australia unnoticed. Well, if there are biters around, then that isn’t going to happen. If any of us get so much as a scratch, then they will smell us from miles away, and they will hunt us. Are you ready for that?”

  Bartholomew’s face turned dark with anger. “Mr Archer, while I may not have faced The Lingering head on, I do know what they are capable of. I understand your concerns about taking someone inexperienced into the field, but I know what is needed of me. I have been around The Lingering all my life, and I fully understand what they are capable of.

  “My family has worked with The Lingering for close to two hundred years, and in that time many have been killed at their hands. The Bartholomews do not back away from The Lingering, they do what has to be done. So don’t try and intimidate me with your macho bullshit, because I don’t scare easily.”

  Archer grinned. “Well that put me in my place, but I’m not trying to be macho, I’m trying to warn you about what we’re facing. I’ve taken scientists into the field before. Scientists who said they could handle it. Most didn’t. Most crumbled when they saw a swarm for the first time.”

  Bartholomew started for the lifts again. “I won’t crumble, Mr Archer. You just worry about getting me to where I have to go.”

/>   Archer shook his head and whispered. “I’ve heard that before.”

  Bartholomew looked back at him. “What was that?”

  “Nothing.

  Chapter 9

  Location: Westbourne Corporate Head Quarters, London

  Date: May 1st 2013

  Time: 2:45 p.m.

  Sir Richard Westbourne surveyed London from the window of his eightieth floor office. The city below him was all but his, and the thought of the power he wielded over it always excited him. He straightened his bent and weary back, and the bones of his ancient spine let out a loud crack.

  At close to ninety, he still drew an almost orgasmic pleasure from the position he held in the city, and the world. He knew power, money and station meant everything. For one hundred and seventy years the Westbourne’s had remained the most powerful family in the world. Yet, he sensed there was a true threat to that power on the horizon; a threat which threatened to destroy his family’s empire. He knew he had to crush the threat before the threat crushed him.

  There was a knock on the door, and Westbourne turned his wasted frame in its direction. “Come in.”

  The door opened and his assistant, George Markus, entered. “Sir Richard, I have the report you requested.”

  Westbourne shuffled slowly towards his desk, and his immense chair. It took him close to a minute to cross the few yards to his seat.

  Markus waited patiently for his decrepit superior to cross the room. Only after Westbourne lowered himself into his chair, and then appeared comfortable, did he begin his report.

  “Sir Richard, as requested we placed twenty-four hour surveillance on Dr Bartholomew, but as of three days ago, we have been unable to locate her. We have checked airport records, and there is no evidence of her leaving the country.”

  Westbourne peered at his aid through milky, half cataract covered eyes. While his vision was greatly impaired, he could still read people like an open book.

  “Don’t worry, George, it wasn’t your fault they lost her, so there’s no need to fear losing your job. I fully expected her to disappear.”