Resurgence, p.4
Resurgence, page 4
part #5 of Hell on Earth Series
Maddy yelped as her office door flew open and Diane burst into the room. She gawped at Maddy with wide, excited eyes. “You told me to come get you as soon as he arrived.”
Maddy nodded, willing her stomach not to lurch into her throat. Wickstaff had said it would give the wrong impression to meet General Thomas at the docks herself, so she had handed the duty of greeting him to Maddy. The stuffy old relic would have to wait before being brought to Wickstaff at her convenience. They couldn’t treat him like a VIP in front of the troops until they understood his intentions.
He probably won’t like it.
Maddy had survived a demonic war and worked her way into becoming a general’s aide-de-camp, but interpersonal conflict made her fall to pieces. It was why she had lost almost every argument when she’d been married. She would usually give in rather than continue fighting. The thought of getting in the middle of two manoeuvring generals was making her nauseous.
But Wickstaff was relying on her.
“Thank you, Diane,” said Maddy. “Which berth did General Thomas sail into?”
Diane shook her head grimly. “All of them.”
Deciding not to ask questions and instead just get the ball rolling, Maddy hurried out of her office inside the port authority building and exited onto the docks. What she saw took her breath away. General Thomas had not arrived by ship. He had arrived by fleet. Twenty warships filled the horizon alongside dozens of smaller craft, twice the number of Portsmouth’s own navy. Several vessels had passed through the blockade and now sat at the quays. All flew the Union Jack proudly. In contrast, Portsmouth no longer flew flags. National pride seemed outdated after what had happened during the last year. They were no longer tribes from across the world – they were the living united against the damned. Apparently, not so for General Thomas and his forces.
It was easy enough to spot the general. The uniformed old man stood on the dock with two dozen well-presented soldiers milling around him. Again, in stark contrast to Portsmouth’s forces, who wore whatever clothing wasn’t ripped or covered in blood. Despite the differences, Portsmouth was unimpressed. The guards conducted their duties with only a cursory glance at the newcomers. Many held weapons at the ready as they stood at their posts, but others merely gazed at the massive fleet that had suddenly arrived on their doorstep.
Maddy straightened up her shoulders and marched across the tarmac. General Thomas acted as though he didn’t see her, right until she was nearly standing on his shoes. Then, suddenly, he feigned surprise, raising both of his fuzzy grey eyebrows at her. “Oh, are you finally here to receive me? I’ve been standing in this cold for twenty minutes.”
Maddy forced a smile, and she noticed that the day was not chilly, but mild bordering on warm. The sun was high in the sky. “I’m sorry, General. I just got word of your arrival.”
General Thomas lifted his nose and sniffed. “I’m assuming you’re not General Wickstaff, but forgive me for not knowing how to address you, you’re not wearing your uniform.”
Maddy chuckled. “Oh, no, I’m not a soldier. My name is Maddy. I’m General Wickstaff’s aide.”
“Are you telling me a civilian greets me? What kind of insult is this?”
“What? No, it’s just… I’m not quite sure what you…”
The old man stomped one of his large feet and folded his narrow arms across his shallow chest. “I come here to meet a fellow officer and they can’t even be bothered to come and greet me themselves.”
Suddenly there was the sound of running footsteps and Commander Tosco came hurrying across the tarmac. “General Thomas, sir, I do apologise. I was conducting a briefing with the junior officers and it overran. You made good time.” He snapped off a crisp salute. “I am Commander Tosco, General Wickstaff sent me to greet you. The tardiness is entirely my error.” He looked at Maddy and gave her a barely detectable nod. Had he overheard the frosty exchange and rushed to help? Or was he politicking, something he had a reputation for? He’d taken his current command from his dead superior, Commander Granger. The man’s daughter had become his ward.
General Thomas squinted at Tosco and curled his furry upper lip with a tut. “You’re an American?”
“I am indeed, sir. United States Coast Guard, as it happens, but Portsmouth is my new home. I fought here alongside some of the bravest men and women I’ve ever met.”
“Really, well, my business is with Wickstaff.”
“General Wickstaff,” corrected Maddy.
General Thomas bristled and kept his disdain barely disguised. Tosco interjected once more. “Shall we go indoors, General? We have tea, coffee, whatever suits.”
The general turned away from Maddy, trying to dismiss her in favour of Tosco, but she was Wickstaff’s representative and would not be ignored. A poor start did not guarantee a poor conclusion. She moved to the front of the group as it headed towards the port authority building. “Yes, please come with me, gentlemen,” she said, back in control of her nerves. “I’ll have General Wickstaff informed of your arrival.”
Tosco moved up beside her and whispered. “You’re pissing this guy off.”
She shrugged. “Who gives a shit? No one invited him here. Nobody has even met him before, but he’s waltzing around here like he’s the king of bloody England.”
“He’s the head of the British Army.”
“Well, this place doesn’t belong to the British Army. I’m a civilian. You’re US Coast Guard.”
“Wickstaff is British Army. If she doesn’t respect that, she undermines her own right to lead. General Thomas is her superior.”
Maddy scowled. “Her equal. And she leads because she earned it, not because of whatever rank the Queen once gave her.”
Tosco glared at her. He opened the door to the port authority building and gave a friendly smile to General Thomas and his entourage. “Please, gentleman, make yourselves at home.”
“Thank you, Commander,” said General Thomas, moving past Maddy without a glance.
Diane was in the reception area and made herself busy by fetching drinks for everyone. Maddy cornered her in the small back office behind the front desk. “This guy is a complete knob. He’s even worse than I’d feared.”
Diane pulled a face. “Are you serious? What did he do?”
Maddy sighed, leaning back against the wall and folding her arms. “I don’t think he likes the way we do things here.”
“Then fuck him. I’ll take him out myself if he gives us any trouble.”
Maddy cackled and had to cover her mouth as she caught General Thomas glaring at her from across the reception. Not wanting to be seen wasting time, she patted Diane on the back and headed down the hall to Wickstaff’s office. She knocked and was summoned.
The general stood behind her desk anxiously. She breathed a little heavily. “I take it General Thomas has arrived? If the vast fleet surrounding my dock is any indication.”
“He’s waiting in reception. Would you like me to ask him to wait?”
“No, no, send him in, but first, could you tell me what kind of man he is? Anything I should know?”
Maddy pursed her lips a moment before talking, then said, “Well, he’ll be pleased to see you’re wearing a uniform. Probably less pleased you’re a woman.”
Wickstaff rolled her eyes. “Send the dinosaur in.”
Maddy chuckled and exited the room. Back in reception, she summoned General Thomas. “General Wickstaff will see you now, sir.”
“Splendid.” He snapped his fingers at his men, who began to follow him through reception.
Maddy objected. “Excuse me, sir, but your guard will have to remain here. General Wickstaff’s office is right at the end of the corridor, but it’s not big enough to host a party. Also, I notice your men are armed. We don’t typically allow weapons inside the administrative areas. There are civilians working here.”
General Thomas sniffed irritably, but he eventually gave a nod to his men to have them stand down. He did, however, summon one man forward. “My colonel shall attend. He is to be afforded the respect of a fellow senior officer.”
Maddy picked her battles and agreed. To her surprise, the colonel stepped forward and offered a hand. He wasn’t young, but nor did he look old enough to be a colonel. He had a gruffness that reminded Maddy more of the sergeants on base than the officers. “Colonel Tony Cross,” he said. “Pleased to meet you, Maddy. You seem a laid-back bunch around here, and that’s no criticism.”
“Yes, well, we’ve been through a lot here. We’re like one big family. Ten thousand strong.”
“And here’s me thinking I grew up with a big family.”
Maddy smiled.
General Thomas grunted. “Shall we?”
“Yes, of course.” Maddy led the two men to General Wickstaff’s office and knocked on the door.
“Enter.”
Maddy held the door open while General Thomas and Colonel Cross entered. Maddy announced both men and turned to leave, but Wickstaff bid her to stay. It was unexpected. She’d been looking forward to escaping this awkward encounter, but then she realised Wickstaff deserved moral support from a friendly face. She took a position in the corner of the room, pulled out the notepad and pencil she used daily, and prepared to listen.
General Thomas and Colonel Cross took seats opposite Wickstaff. Despite her earlier anxiety, Wickstaff sat straight-backed and firm-shouldered in her leather-backed chair. Her chin was raised, her expression impassive, even as she welcomed the two fellow officers to Portsmouth. “It’s good to see fellow survivors of the war. How was your journey home, General Thomas?”
General Thomas folded his hands together in his lap and cleared his throat. “Quiet, considering the amount of bloodshed the last year has brought. The enemy are still everywhere, I’m sure you’re aware, but we’ve finally got the buggers on the run. We’re fortifying towns and cities all over the continent and eradicating the bastards systematically. It’s got easier, as of late.”
Wickstaff nodded. “The demons seem to have lost direction, haven’t they? We’ve experienced that here also.”
“Demons? Is that what you people call them?”
Wickstaff remained impassive. “What would you call them?”
“Abominations, but ascribing them superstitious names like ‘demon’ or ‘monster’ won’t do much for morale.”
“I find realism is a great tonic for morale, General. Portsmouth’s warriors understand very well the threat they face, and it is not for me to pull the wool over their eyes. Nor is it your place to come into my office and tell me how to do things.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Major Wickstaff. You have not received an official commission to your rank of general. You are still, and only, a major. What you have done here is remarkable. You were right to take command as the most senior active officer at hand, but I’m afraid I shall now have to relieve you.”
Wickstaff allowed a smirk to spread across her lips. “And there it is. Things don’t change, do they? Arrogant old men will forever think they have the right to rule the world. I’m sorry, General Thomas, but you don’t belong here. If it’s a fiefdom you’re after, you can sod off back east.”
General Thomas leant forward, meeting Wickstaff’s unyielding stare. “I seek no fiefdom, nor insolence from a subordinate. I am here to reclaim our country. As head of the British Army, it is my duty.”
“The world has changed, General Thomas.”
“And I intend to change it back.”
Wickstaff smirked and flopped back in her seat petulantly. Thomas was growing red in the cheeks. Colonel Cross placed his hand on the desk with a mild slap and announced his intention to speak. “General Wickstaff, might I ask you a question?”
Wickstaff narrowed her eyes at him, then nodded.
“What is the most important thing to you?”
“Humanity’s survival.”
Cross nodded and gave a brief smile. “Mine too. I’ve seen more people die this last year than I ever thought possible, but I’ve also seen ordinary men and women do extraordinary things to survive. General Thomas and I have come here with fifteen thousand troops and several thousand tonnes of hardware. You might be well within your rights to send us away – this is your operation – but we would then set up somewhere else along the coast. Wouldn’t it be better to welcome us with open arms and add our forces together? We would have a real chance of reclaiming our homeland. Not just the South, but the entire United Kingdom. If you object to that just because you don’t get to be in charge, then I would ask whether it’s you who is interested in fiefdoms.”
Maddy gasped. Out of pure offence, she opened her mouth to argue, but Wickstaff gave her a look telling her to stay out of it, then turned back to Colonel Cross with an amused grin on her face. “If you consider overall command to be such an insignificant factor, Colonel, then I might suggest there’s little harm in General Thomas stepping down. Surely he’s earned his retirement.”
General Thomas spluttered. “That will not happen. In fact—”
“You’re right,” said Colonel Cross, cutting off his superior. “General Thomas stepping down is an option, but it wouldn’t work.”
Wickstaff leant back in her chair, causing it to creak. “And why is that?”
“Because the fifteen thousand men under General Thomas’s command still consider themselves part of the British Army. They respect the chain of command and the legitimacy of rank. It’s clear, however, that the forces of Portsmouth are, to put it kindly, less professional.”
“Each of my men is worth ten of yours.”
Cross nodded, brooking no argument. His face was such a mix of scars and sun-beaten skin that it was hard to get a read on what he was thinking. It was only when he smiled that he gave any indication. “In bravery and ability, your men might be without equal, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make. My point is that General Thomas’s men will not follow someone they deem to be illegitimately in command. They respect the rank not the man. Your people are different though. They don’t respect rank, they respect you, General Wickstaff. They will act as you tell them to.”
Maddy found herself nodding, for it was true. Whether Wickstaff was officially a general or not, people wanted to follow her. They trusted her.
Wickstaff rolled her eyes. “We respect each other and what we’ve been through. The people here have fought and died to protect what we have. Rank is far less relevant nowadays.”
Colonel Cross nodded as if he understood. Maddy assumed the man probably had stories of his own he could tell. Each scar on his face and neck likely had its own punchline.
“Step down,” said Cross softly, “and the people here will be safer. They’ll have another fifteen thousand fully armed soldiers protecting them and enough weaponry to blow up the moon. Your civilians can go back to being civilians. Your injured can rest. No one is asking you to go away, General Wickstaff, only to relinquish the role of senior commander. You’d still outrank me.” He smiled, but the joke didn’t land. Wickstaff did nothing but raise a thin tawny eyebrow at him.
“Colonel Cross is correct,” said General Thomas, less bristly now. Perhaps he’d realised Colonel Cross was getting somewhere with his softer approach. “I shall promote you legitimately to brigadier and you shall be my second in command. You’ll have authority over even more men and resources than before and I intend to rely on you heavily. Understand, however, that I am the senior officer in the British Army. I have my own list of victories and reasons to be respected. Accept my command, and we’ll wipe the floor with the enemy. Refuse it, and we’ll end up stepping on each other’s toes, two splintered forces fighting over the same spoils. If the demon’s current predicament proves anything, it’s that an army fights better with a strong, focused chain of command.”
Wickstaff chuckled. “I thought you disliked the word ‘demon’.”
General Thomas cracked a smile. He leant back in his chair and appeared to relax. His wide, bony shoulders lowered. “Well, I suppose I can accept a few things you do around here.” He ran a hand over his short grey hair and let out a sigh. “Look, perhaps I came on a little strong initially.”
“A tad,” said Wickstaff.
“I apologise. Unfortunately, it’s become somewhat of a habit. Living in the desert with officers from a dozen nations, all trying to be top dog, all trying to win a never-ending pissing contest for their respective courts, can be rather stressful, to say the least. There’s a reason Germany has control of most of Europe, and it’s because they pissed on everything first. I came here to ensure that our homeland remains in our possession by fighting whoever may try to take it.”
From the corner of the room, Maddy tried to make out the man’s sincerity. She hated to admit it, but he seemed earnest.
“Okay, look,” said Wickstaff, placing her palms together and leaning over her desk. “If I were to be honest, being in charge of the lives of so many people is not as fun as it sounds. If someone wants to come along and share that burden with me, then I’m not instinctively opposed to the idea. But understand this, gentleman, if you want my fealty, you shall respect the men and women of Portsmouth as if they were your own – British Army or not. We are fighting for mutual survival here and no man is lesser when the enemy is at the gates trying to exterminate us as a species. I won’t stand for it if you stamp your boots all over this place and disrupt people’s lives. They’ve been through too much already.”
Colonel Cross nodded eagerly, like a salesman who sensed a done deal. “I have no doubt General Thomas will be happy to hail your people as the heroes they are. We need every fighting man we can get. There’s no reason for there to be an ‘us and them’ mentality. We are fellow countrymen.”
“And women,” said Wickstaff, raising an eyebrow and giving Maddy a quick smirk.
Colonel Cross chuckled and gave a smile of genuine warmth. “Of course.”
Maddy instinctively liked Colonel Cross, and she would have preferred it to be him who was intending to take command. He spoke softly and respectfully, and underneath his considered words was an uncouth, working-class accent that suggested all this politicking was a terrible bore. He was doing his best to be a senior officer but hadn’t been born to it. Like the people of Portsmouth, he’d stepped up in a world that had suddenly demanded so much from ordinary people. What she absolutely hated, however, was the fact that his words were getting through to Wickstaff. Was she actually considering stepping down?
