Simpathe Nation by John Handrahan
Chapter Twenty Five: Last Stand
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Max’s men armed themselves to the teeth and rushed to the entrance of the camp while Max rang the owners and left a message telling them the park would be closed today. He knew he could never clean up that many dead bodies in one day. He heard Reg open fire with his light machine gun as the distinctive sound of the British GMP roared across the car park. The first truck was quickly torn to ribbons by the ceaseless gunfire but gave cover for the next two. Marcus drove the tank and edged forward to break their enemies formation. The plan was to scare them quickly into retreat as they couldn’t know the numbers they were facing.
Bodies were strewn across the battlefield already but Marcus knew they would only be able to hold them for so long and that it only took one Simpathe to electrify a tank and send it occupants in to Never Never land. The Simpathe were dropping smoke bombs across the field, clouding the view of his team. It was going to end up in hand to hand combat he thought as they kept up a constant barrage of fire into the smoky field. Simpathes kept popping up, seemingly out of nowhere and white sparks of energy coupled with the smell of burning flesh now fueled their adrenaline as they plunged into the fraught battle. Fear of death pounded at the hearts of the brave men fighting for their lives as inevitably a Simpathe broke through the lines. Its electric shocks connected like a child’s static electric experiment gone wrong with five men’s weapons before another put him down. The Simpathes had a distinct advantage at close quarters. One bemused man saw that a group of Simpathes hiding behind a blown up truck had joined hands creating a semi-circle. He was hit by an enormous arc of electricity that blasted him back ten feet in the air. It appeared they could combine their energy. The Simpathe group were quickly targeted as an arc that size was like a signal flare for their location.
Max ran from the main billet grabbing his machine gun as he went. From the corner of his eye he noticed the satellite tracker that Marcus had left on. It was focused in on the camp ands showed him there were far more Simpathes than just the ones in the trucks coming towards them. There were at least another hundred coming on foot from all directions. He needed to get his men out as quickly as he could. Max picked a box of ammo up and grabbed a handful of grenades as he sprinted toward his men’s lines. He was too late; bodies were everywhere. He watched in horror as the tank moved forward. It was a sitting duck for RPG fire and two missiles ripped into the side of the task as he watched. A huge explosion devastated the stricken vehicle. Smoke from grenades choked all the air in the car park as Simpathes moved forward, systematically killing everything that moved. Max sounded a retreat but there was no one left. Horror struck he knew he had to go but his feet were glued to the floor in shock. With a huge effort he tore himself loose and ran back to the billet to find a safer way out. Across the fields to the back all he could see was Simpathes and he knew he wasn’t going to make it. Without warning an agonizing pain struck every nerve ending in his body and Max dropped spasming helplessly to the ground, writhing in agony and unable to fight the electrostatic charge crippling his functioning, he passed out.
When Max woke up he saw he was dressed in a white gown with a straitjacket keeping his arms bound tightly to his sides. He was strapped to a bed in a very clean, very white medical looking room. A camera pointed towards him from one corner and a table and a chair were placed at his bed side. It looked rather as if it was a recovery room than an interrogations room but if he was recovering why was he in a straitjacket? He remembered finding his troops dead and then the agonising pain before he had blacked mercifully out and wondered if they had put a Simpathe in him or if they planned to. He noticed there were fresh clothes hanging from a rail in the corner so knew his body would live on no matter what. It would make sense to infect his body with a Simpathe. As he pondered, trying to make sense of it all, the door swung smoothly open and two strapping orderlies strode into the room, one of them pushing a wheelchair. Without saying a word they lifted him from the bed and sat him in the wheelchair before wheeling him out of the room. They pushed him along a long corridor and into a larger room with all too familiar double sided glass forming most of one wall. There was a chair and a table holding drinks that looked like coffee sitting next to a plate of biscuits.
“Ah, Max, pleased you could make it,” a man wearing a surgeons gown walked into the room, “I’m Richard.”
“I’m not so pleased,” Max said truthfully.
“Now then, don’t be like that,” Richard laughed heartily, “you’re one of us now after all.”
Shock sent all the blood from Max’s face and he looked as pale as a ghost on hearing this.
“I don’t think so,” Max croaked, denial fighting shock in self defence.
“Oh it’s there, what do you call it,” Richard paused “yes, a sleeper. My own invention from your world and my technology.”
“Get it get it out now,” Max demanded in desperation.
“Now now, you have something I want and you have something you want removing,” Richard steepled his fingers together and looked at Max jovially.
“What do you want?” Max said, realising that no matter what he was almost definitely going to die whatever he did. He decided in desperation that he would try and play along until a plan came up or the new MI6 came through to bust him out or Chloe, Josh and the rest turned up.
“Well you successfully helped me destroy MI6 as I planned,” Richard spoke nonchalantly, “and now I need Chloe and the few remaining ex MI6 agents.”
“You must be joking,” Max cried out, “I never helped you and never will.
“The Simpathe will activate inside you the minute it senses you are not going to help me,” Richard sniggered as he untied Max’s restraints, “try and hurt me and you will sense it.”
Max moved forward and immediately felt a red hot burning sensation in the back of his head. It hurt like hell. He stopped and relaxed. He couldn’t hurt any of them.
“Please escort Max to his room and have him dressed and fed.” Richard spoke to the orderly standing behind Max, “we don’t want our little friend to go hungry.”
He was wheeled back to his room where he was released from the chair and handed clothing. Once alone he hurriedly dressed, just pulling his T Shirt on as food and drink were wheeled into the room on a trolley. The sandwiches and soda were welcome as he felt lightheaded from shock and needed a calorie boost but he noticed that the plate was paper and the cup a light plastic. Even the trolley had no sharp edges. His captors were obviously taking no chances and had taken into consideration he may feel suicidal after the news he had just been given. He didn’t but wasn’t sure where to go with this either. They wanted him in their control. He needed to let people know what was happening but without dying if he could help it. He knew that Chloe would check him out if she found him but wasn’t sure if normal checks would work. He thought carefully; if he did nothing he would live but they would create thousands of sleeper agents, that’s if they hadn’t already. The worst case scenario was that they would send him after Chloe. The thought of something lingering inside him, watching his every move and knowing his every emotion gave him the shivers. He felt violated; another being was able to control him against his will.
As soon as he had finished eating the orderlies entered the room again. This time they handed Max his weapon and his phone back before being taken to see Richard again.
“That’s better, you look more human now,” Richard said, smirking at his own private joke.
“Who are you?” Max asked, still trying to gain as much information as possible.
“You may be able to get a few words out if you turn against me so you can’t have your questions answered until you return with the others,” Richard said.
“You want them all alive?” Max asked.
“I need Chloe alive and preferably Josh but the rest are expendable,” Richard explained coldly, “I would prefer if your unit were to stay alive though, they can live as sleepe
“That’s very kind of you,” Max glared, his words twisted with sarcasm.
“I’m afraid we will have to blindfold you and escort you to the Midlands where you may begin your search,” Richard nodded to the orderlies who promptly placed a blindfold over his eyes and led him away.
Richard listened carefully to the sounds around him during his journey. He was hoping to get a clue about the location of the base was but found nothing that gave him any indication. Max counted carefully and at a steady pace for some time until he lost count after an hour or so. He felt the vehicle come to a halt and blinked, dazzled by light, as the blindfold was taken off. He worried that the Simpathe inside would know what he was thinking without him knowing, but thought that if it did it would have killed him long ago. Maybe, he pondered, it doesn’t read thoughts, just emotions which are far more powerful than thoughts. He must be undetectable to Chloe in this way too. He tried to work out a way of letting Chloe know what was happening without the Simpathe realising he had deviated from his orders and also before Chloe or the enemy inside him killed him. His thoughts led him in ever more complex conundrums until he developed a mild head ache and forced himself to calm and stop thinking about it. Eventually he succeeded, concentrating instead on just being in the moment, and the headache subsided. The Simpathe inside must have sensed his anxiety and uncertainty and he felt it stirring, becoming restless. He knew it must want to take him over and that there was a part of it that wanted to ascend into something more than a shadow inside him. This was a scary thought and his headache thudded back into existence until he again controlled his emotions. He would have to find a way of keeping his feelings in check or he would just become Simpathe bait. Max looked around and saw that the van had pulled up outside Derby train station. The side door slid open and Max was handed another phone with just one number entered into it. He had his own phone but that was locked onto a satellite that only Chloe’s people controlled and he would never get through to a Simpathe on that line. Max walked away from the van feeling an urge to drown his worries with alcohol as he passed the Railway Arms pub. He walked past it instead, alcohol would only release his emotions and he needed them tightly held in check. He was trained not to show them and not to crack but right now it was incredibly hard. His head was hurting again and he was grateful to spot a pharmacy. The shop was empty and the woman behind the counter looked shocked when Max flicked out his badge to show her before going behind the counter and picking out the medications he wanted.
“You can’t just take them!” the pharmacist protested.
“National security risk, sorry,” Max replied, striding away.
Max had picked up some painkillers and some antipsychotic tablets. His father had suffered from bi polar while Max was in his teens and as a young man Max had tried one of his tablets. They were very good at controlling emotions and mood swings, just what he needed for a while. He did, however, need to stay focused for a little longer. He bought a train ticket to Ipswich and purchased food and drink for the journey before swallowing a tablet. As he sat morosely on platform bench, reflecting on life’s ironies whilst waiting for the train, the phone he had been given rang.
“Hello? Max speaking.”
“Richard, oh I forgot to tell you,” Richards smug voice echoed down the phone line, “ You only have 24 hours from now before your passenger activates if you don’t bring us what we want.” The phone went silent as Richard ended the connection, but not before Max heard him chuckling gleefully to himself. Max grimaced and swallowed another pain killer. He only had five minutes to wait for his train after all.
Forty minutes later his train drew up to the platform. It had been delayed and Richard had had time to regret taking the medication cocktail. His brain felt as if it was on fire and he couldn’t move his body without tremendous effort. He felt as if he were trying to swim against a tide of thick treacle. This was a nightmare, a complete reversal of what he had wanted when he self medicated. He realised he could be followed but it was too late to start checking the station and his fellow travelers out, he was all messed up and could barely stand to get on the train. He slumped into a carriage and drooled heavily before falling asleep.
Max woke suddenly. A cleaner on the train was waking him up to tell him that the train had pulled in and he needed to get off. The train was empty apart from himself and the cleaner who looked concerned, worried about Max’s deep sleep. He looked at his watch and saw that he must have been in the station for about an hour. Apologising, Max left the train, murmuring an excuse about being jet lagged as he left and headed for the underground. The tablets had worn off and he could now move round quite easily but with no pain, thought or worry at all. He actually couldn’t feel anything and it was great to have no anxiety. Max caught a tube to Liverpool Street Station and from there jumped onto the last train to Ipswich. It was a roundabout way of getting where he needed to go but he had a plan of where to go and how to get there, developed, it must be said, before he had taken the medication. He planned to rent a car in Ipswich which he would need to get back to Richard. If he made it, he thought grimly. He needed to head up toward the Broads quickly. He knew Graham would be out on his boat somewhere, making like a tourist but with a samurai sword close to hand.
The train to Ipswich didn’t seem to take long. At the care hire centre Max thought he would push the boat out and get himself a nice range rover. If he was going to die, he thought, it would be in a comfortable car. He programmed the sat nav as he drove then felt a huge impact throwing him forward in his seat like a rag doll. Bang. Max had hit something. That was all he needed he thought, panic trying to take hold, police all over him. He got out quickly and it was then he felt searing agonizing pain engulf his body and fell helplessly to the ground.