Two days later. Dr Helena got up and left the familiar briefing room in the Administration building. She had been part of the meeting but her part was over. She had briefed the occupants on John’s injuries and his current condition.

She closed the door and walked down the hallway. Knowing the real decisions were about to be made. Fear was present for her patient because she had hints of the problems on the horizon for them all. She was however powerless to influence these decisions unless they were not medically important.

In the room the four people left sitting at the table had waited until they were sure Dr Helena was gone. They were in a secure facility but were conditioned not to take chances.

“Private mode activated.” General Holsan said after interacting with an e-pad in front of him.

“Very well. Dr Holland, you have the floor.” Hamilton said to one of the other people in the room.

“Thank you.” Tapping on his e-pad he displayed Operative Harrington’s medical records on the room’s large monitor. These were more extensive images than Dr Helena had displayed.

“As Dr Helena stated. Operative Harrington will make a full recovery. This should be a medical impossibility. The extent of his injuries should have demanded massive surgical intervention. Effectively rebuilding parts of his body. A full recovery even then was not even plausible.” He touched his e-pad highlighting different injuries.

“The regenerative factor earlier identified has been recorded as becoming more marked. We tracked extensive amounts of Stem cells in his blood for the first two months. They have allowed his body to recover to this point. All of his injuries will over time be fully repaired.”

“The new type of zone infection identified was a much more aggressive version of the “Ghoul” virus. It was a serious threat for the first few days but his body fought it off. We have gained a large amount of data to create medication for the virus.” More images and text pop up on the screen. “The new drug created will greatly reduce the losses to the “Ghoul” virus but not eliminate it. We have recommended that this drug be moved not next stage testing. We are hopeful in the results will be all positive.”

“Is that all Dr Holland?” Hamilton asked.

“No. There is something else. After extensive tests before he awoke, we discovered. Two more oddities with Operative Harrington that have emerged.” The screen became split between two images.

“The first issue is that Operative Harrington’s bones have become stronger.” He indicated the image to the left. The image was of a bone with different medical-based figures displayed.

“In what way?” Holsan asked. Most of the medical data was going over his head.

“His bone structure has changed slightly. Overall, his bones are around 5% stronger now. Over what they were from earlier testing. With little increase in bone density that would normally be seen.”

“The other?” Holsan continued.

“His blood has become more efficient in transporting oxygen. This will allow greater feats of strength and stamina than he was able of before.” Again, he indicated several new images.

“What has caused these changes?” Hamilton enquired. His main focus was on the data on the screen.

“We…do not know. Zone exposure is the clear source but if this is a natural effect from his body or something else. We cannot say at this time.” His discomfort at not being able to answer was clear. “Mutation of an unknown source is clear.”

“Is there anything else to add?” Holsan asked.

“Yes, we are tracking additional mutations and changes to his nervous system. We have no idea what the changes will produce. We do not think that he is a security threat but will require closer monitoring.”

“Thank you then, Dr Holland.” Hamilton’s tone was a polite but firm dismissal.

Closing the shared screens on the monitor first then Dr Holland got up and walked out of the room leaving the last three alone. Hamilton looked at them.

“Well?”

“Major Hawk has a suggestion.”

Hamilton looked to the other officer in the room.

“Operative Harringtons debrief largely matches what we know of the chain of events. The zones unexplained shrinking could be linked to his termination of the believed class 4 threat. There are some issues. As listed in Dr Misra’s report he is not telling us everything.” Hawks went straight into his pitch.

“We do not know what is causing these mutations. His brain scans are now showing clear deviations from the norm. Mentally he is stable but showing increased effects of prolonged combat mental trauma. Also, he is demonstrating clear signs of zone personality changing effects.”

“The problem is that we cannot afford to isolate him. From the recent uptick in zone appearances and strain on present personnel, we need him. To be honest he is just too far good at what he does.”

“What I recommend as listed in my report supplied. Is that we create a dedicated team around him. He will continue to act in the background with the RCT acting as the public face of UKZC. We direct him into more hostile or unknown zones as a primary mission focus for him. He has shown a clear ability under stressful situations to adapt and overcome.”

“There’s a good chance that will be the death of him.” Hamilton said after a few moments of thought.

“Yes. But if he has been compromised…” Hawk did not finish.

The other two looked at each other knowing the answer. Holsan looked back to the major.

“Thank you Major we will review your suggestions.” Dismissing the younger officer. He stood saluted and left the room.

“Well, this is a fine pickle!” Hamilton said.

“What will you recommend to the Cabinet and Command?”

“I will have to look over the Major’s proposal again. But he is right. We cannot afford to lose him.”

“So, the redirection then even if there is a risk that he is compromised?”

“Yes. But will it be enough? We both know we are losing Robert. The zones are increasing in number. Not here but on the continent and across the world. You have seen the figures.” Hamilton sagged suddenly looking tired.

“The projections are not good. The public confidence in Zone Command took a big hit after Carndonagh. The death toll was the worst since the Covid pandemic and in literally a day. You have seen the new training requirements for all Operatives.”

“Yes. Firearms certification for all Operatives as standard.” Holsan confirmed.

“A confidence-boosting measure they have called it.”

“You opposed it?”

“Yes. Mark my words we will be seeing calls for conscription soon if this keeps up. There are rumours they might be proposing it soon in the cabinet.”

“Manpower is soon going to be a major issue. We need more Operatives and zone capable support personnel. We are pushing the ones we have dangerously hard.”

“I know. I know.” Hamilton said leaning back and closing his eyes.

“Operative Harrington?”

“I will double-check the details then I will recommend we go ahead. There are darker days ahead Robert. Darker days indeed.”

## ## ## ## ##

Five months of Physio. Five months of training. Five months of rebuilding. I have just been declared operational again.

Oh, the Joy! The unbridled happiness!

I was told it would take over seven but my recovery was “excellent” and “above normal” so here I am. Fully recovered in fighting shape and the recently passed Operative with a firearms certificate. Just with a few more scars.

I am standing outside the Administration building for the Operatives at Zone Command. The September day is clear and sunny. I stand there with a copy of the paperwork confirming I am once again in the game.

“Johnny Boy!”

“Hi, Lou.” The five-foot walking block of muscle approached.

“What are you doing back on base?”

“Declared fit for action and passed the firearms test.”

“Already! I thought we would not see you until next year.”

“Yep. Fast healer back on my feet.”

“Good. Let me drop these off and we can head down to the armoury.” He waved a batch of files. There were no doubt digital copies but the paper trail ethos was still embedded in the British Government. But that was changing slowly but changing.

A short time later we were in the armoury at the section that stored my equipment container. Lou was opening it up as I looked around.

“More containers these days.” I muse. Noting the ID numbers on the containers.

“Yea. Been more Operatives recruited.”

“I’ve heard about the losses.” I don’t mince words. Not here with Lou.

“I know. The higher-ups have been trying to hide the fact that we have lost a lot of good people this year.” He had stopped and was looking sorrowfully at the containers. I knew it was hard for him.

“So why the firearms training?” This had been bugging me since it was brought in.

“Officially. No clue. Unofficially. Some zones on the continent are seeing more excursions. So, Whitehall wants to be prepared. For the public good and moral. You know the usual bullshit.”

“Shit!”

“Damn right!” He turns his attention back to the container. “Right your standard loadout plus the few mission-focused items when required. Please don’t get all this new stuff fucked up on your first jaunt out!”

We went through everything all very shiny and new one piece at a time. My axe and shield. Body armour and secondary weapons. Even the support kit. I knew that Lou was a busy man and that his team was covering for him while he talked with me. I did find something new.

“What’s up with the second belt here?” I ask.

“Ah. New requirement. Designed to attach an additional holster.”

“Let me guess the Glock 9 I have been qualified for?”

“Got it in one.” He said smiling. “Qualified on anything else?”

“Assault rifles and shotguns.” I tell him. The tests were all held at a different base. That turned his smile into a frown.

“Did not expect that. Scuttlebutt was saying that it was just sidearms.”

“Last minute change we were told. As we were the first group to go through it. So, it was no biggy.” Before Lou could say anything else we heard a voice calling.

“Sargent Green?” It was a woman I did not recognise.

“In here Lieutenant Walker!” He calls out. I look at him. He shrugs.

A woman comes into view in the doorway. She is about 5’10, mid-twenties in British Military fatigues. Pale skin with light brown hair tucked under her beret with blue eyes. She took in the sight and began speaking.

“Sargent Green. Status on the reports requested?” Her tone was briskly attempting to be authoritative with a Mid Counties accent.

“All done Ma’am. Just handed in the physical copies a short time ago.” Lou was all business now.

“Excellent. I will review them and query anything I think is odd.” With that, she nods at us and heads off. I look to Lou but he is watching the officer leave.

“That was what I was going to say. Last month the young Lieutenant there and another officer by the name of Major Hawk showed up. They were very interested in several Operatives load-outs. Especially yours.” He said to me.

“Eh?”

“I think the others are of secondary interest boy. They were checking out your kit. I mean in-depth. Caught them in here several times.”

“Fuck!” The one thing anyone who went into conflict hated most was someone messing with their kit.

“Don’t worry. I have gone through it with a fine-tooth comb. It’s all good.” He understood my worry. That helped me relax a little.

“Who are they?”

“No clue. Asked around but was told to stop. Unofficially” Fuck! This was getting worse.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m about to get fucked over?” I ask out loud.

“From your lips to God’s ears.” Lou knows the deal.

“I really can’t worry. Just got to wait for the shit to hit the fan.” I was resigned to waiting for that day.