“Let’s get this place cleared then,” pushed Rolly.
Glen led the way, looters running from them as they cleared the lower bunker room by room. There were no more incidents. The earlier gunfire had sent a clear message to the remaining looters that order was being enforced again. They did come across a further three dead bodies: two from the government services, the last one a scientist. They regrouped at the main entrance where they were joined by CSM Saunders and a section from the warehouse, and a perimeter was set up. They scouted the immediate area, rounding up as many of the RGC staff they could find and, within two hours, the generator was running again, and, aided by Anjali and Jill, Alison was tasked with providing the soldiers and the survivors of the RGC with a hot drink along with a bowl of soup each. Major Redfern called a meeting which was held in the canteen.
Alison, still shaken up by her recent experience, placed a bowl of hot leek soup in front of Alan, Scott, Glen and Rolly. Jill provided Greg, Plato, Baxter and Ellis with the same. They had pulled chairs around a couple of tables in the canteen and chatted while they tucked in to the first hot meal for twenty-four hours.
“First, Scott, can you update us on the security state?”
“Sure, sir. The standard unit structure has been reinstated. Zero-Charlie have the warehouse, although they’re pretty knackered, so we’re keeping ops to a minimum.”
“Have they scouted the enemy camp again?”
“Yes, sir. Delta have done a recce, nothing. They’ve scarpered by the looks of it.”
“And their wounded?”
“They’ve been brought into the warehouse, under guard. Saying that, they’re in no condition to do anything. There are now fourteen wounded, and two have died in the last hour. We’ve placed the dead in one of the buildings on the other side of Dyke’s Way. Thirteen in total.”
“How far out have you patrolled, Sar’nt Major?” asked Glen.
Scott looked at Alan who nodded. “For the country areas, we’ve scouted out from Wincanton to about five miles. Major routes we’ve gone as far as twenty miles to the west and back this way as far as Chilmark. North and south, as far as Shepton Mallet and Stalbridge. No sign of them.”
“It sounds like you’ve kicked their arses for them,” Greg put forward.
“We’ve paid the price though,” responded Alan. “The RGC staff are scattered to the four winds, and we potentially have up to 4,000 hostile people out there.”
“Zero-Bravo have the RGC secured,” continued the CSM. “Zero-Echo have done a tour of the town, trying to locate any of the police officers.”
“Delta?”
“Once they completed an area search of Wincanton, I had them return to Charlie and remain on standby as the QRF. The lads need a breather, sir.”
“I understand, but we’re not out of the woods yet. Leave the CVR(T) and Fox at the warehouse, but send a low-key patrol to have a look at the camp and feeding station.”
“If it’s OK with you, sir, I’ll go myself and take a couple of the lads with me.”
“Me and Rolly’ll come with you,” volunteered Greg.
“That OK with you, Major?” asked Glen.
“Yes. Watch yourself, Scott. The locals may still be hostile.”
“Will do.”
Scott gathered his kit and, along with the two SF soldiers, left to complete a patrol of the area. Alison gave the soldiers half a dozen biscuits each to take with them. The looters hadn’t managed to find all of the food in the RGC, she’d added gleefully.
“What are your plans next then, Major?”
“The name’s Alan.”
Glen nodded. “Alan.”
“Look, the survival of those people out there, and us, is dependent on being prepared for the coming winter and beyond.”
“Don’t you have stocks of food in the warehouse you were defending?”
“Yes, and we have government stocks hidden elsewhere. But it’s not going to last when we need to feed over 4,000 people. And anymore that join us.”
“You can just start growing some food as soon as the season is right, can’t you?”
They were interrupted as Alison placed piping hot cups of tea in front of the three men, the interruption immediately followed by a second one as Eddie knocked on the door.
“Sorry to butt in, Major.”
“What is it, Eddie?”
“A couple have just wandered in, claiming they’re from the RGC. Do you want to check them out?”
“Let them in, but keep them secure on the lower level.”
“Sort things out later?”
“Yes. Treat them well. We’ll get some hot food and drink sorted out soonest.”
“Some supplies on their way then?” asked Alison.
“Yes. Could you knock up another urn of soup and one of tea or coffee?”
“Gladly. It’ll be good to get back to reality.”
“I’ll let them know, sir.”
“Thanks, Eddie.”
Eddie flicked Alan a casual salute and left.
“He one of yours?”
“Plato, is it?”
“Yes, some dumb name these guys dreamed up for me.”
“No, he’s not. Ex-REME, but was considering taking the Queen’s shilling again,” laughed Alan.
“Who’s in charge here then? You?” asked Glen.
“No, no. We have a principal officer, Mr Elliot. He was a director for the local authority until this was thrust upon him.”
“He done a runner?”
“I’m hoping he, along with other members of the Centre, will turn up somewhere, alive.”
“He been doing a good job then?” asked Plato.
“As good as you could expect under the circumstances.”
“When me and Rolly turned up, the mob were rebuking you for slavery,” suggested Glen.
“As I was saying earlier, we need to get ready for when the food runs out. We need to start farming.”
“Can’t you ask for volunteers?”
Alan took a sip of his tea, placed the cup back down, and leant towards Glen. “We have no tractors, no seed, very little know-how, contaminated land and a workforce that is not in the best of health. But they’re the only labour force we have, and the only way to get them working is with the promise of food.” He leant back in his seat. “Just look outside, look at the sky. The boffins are telling us that we might not see the sun again for years.”
“Hence the cold.”
“And it’ll get even colder. More importantly, without sunlight, we’ll struggle to grow crops, and there’ll be too little food for livestock. But anything we can grow will help, no matter how little.”
“If you’re trying to scare me, Major — Alan, you’re doing a pretty good job.”
“The Major’s right, Glen,” agreed Plato. “This is the honeymoon period. When the processed food we have runs out, we need to be able to fend for ourselves. Have you heard from any other RGCs? Or other military or government departments?”
“We were in touch with two RGCs further north. We know at least one was overrun. We haven’t heard from the other for nearly a week now, but that could just be communication problems.”
“All in all, up until now at least, it seems you’ve been doing a pretty good job here,” acknowledged Glen.
Alan lowered his head. “Not sure how things lie now. Anyway, what are your plans?”
Glen looked across at Plato. “Well, we had all agreed to head for London. See if Pindar is up and running.”
“London will have got hit pretty hard.”
“That’s our worry. But we have to tick that box.”
“Why don’t you stay here? We could do with all the support as we can find.”
“Not sure it’s us, Alan, but me and the lads will have a chat about our next move, I’m sure.”
Before the conversation could continue, a clattering of boots could be heard coming down the corridor, and Scott, Greg and Rolly came through the door into the canteen. Scott’s face told Alan all was not well.