Chapter 102

Winter was here but was far milder than usual. The days had become shorter but remained warm and the population seemed a little less depressed with their living situation. Only the climate experts were concerned with the strange weather patterns in mid-December. The last few weeks have been hectic for everyone throughout the British government and military and today marked the 20th day since the “great humanitarian” relief effort for Europe had begun. Though the press was spinning it as a push to save what was left of Europe and its population, some were calling it the quiet invasion.

I had been allowed to recover and rest during this period and had not been brought in for any briefings and meetings until two days ago. My quiet period was officially over as I was deployed to France.

My last trip to France was not a pleasant experience and one I did not want to repeat. I had not shied away from expressing my unhappiness. My complaints and concerns were duly noted and ignored, of course.

But here I am, sitting in a helicopter travelling across the channel again to France. In this case, Dunkirk.

Why Dunkirk? Well, it appears that there is a zone in the eastern side of the town threatening the harbour. There is also a large refugee community on the city's western side that they do not want to be imperilled by the zone expanding. Personally, I think the harbour is more important to the planners back in London. But that might just be me becoming more cynical.

It is early morning and I’m dressed for action but without my weapons. I am being assigned to the northern France command for my next few missions. Due to my er…unique circumstances, command believes I should be at the spearpoint of several vital operations.

I can see the coastline approaching through the window. I remember watching the footage coming across the newsfeeds as Britain launched the operation, dubbed “Break Line”. There have been rumours of something happening, but the British government had managed to keep the exact details under wraps. From the grapevine, I don’t think they told the Europeans what they were planning until they launched the operation. As in some areas, there was some resistance, to begin with, but most of that has now ended. With the near-total collapse of the European Union and the component nation-states, there isn’t anyone left to complain. What is left of the area's civilian government and military units have been taken over and merged into the new Northern France Security District.

“We will be there soon.” Gregson says through the intercom. I simply nod and keep looking out the window. “We should be launching the operation in just over an hour.”

“They’re pushing this one.” I can now see the buildings on the coastline. It’s pretty easy to make out Dunkirk now.

“They are. But using the briefing materials, this is the most active zone anywhere near a population hub or refugee camp.”

I nod again. The briefing materials were explicit that this was the most active and dangerous zone at the moment. The government wanted a clear message to be sent to the civilian population of both France and Britain by engaging in shutting down the zone in a fast and decisive manner.

Gregson fell quiet again and the rest of the journey passed in silence. But it wasn’t too long before we were quickly ushered out of the helicopter after it landed and were put into a British Army Land Rover. We were rapidly taken through the city streets as there was little civilian traffic. Plenty of vehicles were around the roads, but they were all off the side, clearly not in use for abandoned. Fuel or power sources to charge the cars were now a luxury most could not afford or had access to. This did mean there were plenty of civilians walking around and a few even had horses with carts.

It was surprising to see the numbers as most would have fled usually. But these days, it was nowhere to escape to, so most decided to stay put. We made good time along a dual carriageway, crossed a canal or river, and turned off to a sports stadium. The British military had taken over and turned it into a barracks and command post. I exited the vehicle and looked around for a few of the local population. They were too far away to see their faces, but I wondered what they thought about us being here.

Stade Marcel Tribut was written on the side of the stadium. It looks like a local football stadium, but I wasn’t too sure. We were quickly ushered through onto the pitch and I was correct. It was a football stadium. The pitch was covered in tents and British and European military personnel performed their required tasks. We were placed into a tent that was next to the command tent. Against one of the walls was a large map of Dunkirk. This had numerous markers highlighting essential points or troop concentrations. The zone was indicated with its current boundaries. Starting at a canal and following the Pierre Mendes France up until the coastline was a red line. I knew this to be a barrier line that marked the edge of the zone. Strangely there was a clear gap between the line and the zone edge, which was quite odd. Usually, the barrier line would be on the zone edge, but this one was not. There was also a series of red X symbols along all the roadways that had bridges crossing the canal. I quickly realised they were using the canal as another barrier. The zone was also an odd shape, more an oval than the more consistently found circle.

Gregson was investigating another table with drinks on it. Even with rationing, coffee and tea shortages have been the primary source of complaints from the civilian population in Britain. I turned my attention back to the map when two men walked into the tent. Both were military in dress and bearing.

“Good morning Operative Harrington. I am Major Linfield and this is Major Martin.” The British officer indicated to the other next to him. From the combat fatigues, he was in the Euro Corps and had a Belgium flag on his arm.

“Good morning.” He greeted both of us.

Gregson quickly snapped off a salute to them. “Sirs! Sargent Gregson Operative Support Unit.” The two officers return the salute.

“Welcome to you as well, Sargent.” Linfield added. We all congregated at the map board.

“I am afraid we must be brief as we are on the clock with this one.” Linfield indicated to the map. “This zone is proven to be extremely active in producing ghouls. Several packs have ventured out of the boundary in the last few weeks, forcing us to pull the perimeter back and move all civilians from the area affected. As you can see, we have been forced to surrender large swathes of eastern Dunkirk.” That explains the unusual positioning of the zone barriers.

“We currently have all our available personnel manning the barriers here and on the other side of the zone. The canal has proven to be an effective barrier in itself, preventing the ghouls from moving southwards. We don’t know why at the moment, but they don’t seem to be willing to cross it.” He pointed to what he was talking about on the map.

“The plan for the operation is as follows. We can confirm at the moment that this is a grave-type zone. The last report from within the zone indicated a large presence of both type I and type II threats. But as I have indicated, the number of type threes has increased dramatically in the last few weeks. Once finished here, you will be transported to this junction here, where the Pierre Mendes France and Quai aux Fleurs meet next to the canal. There is a gate there that will allow you to access restricted areas beyond.” He pointed to the junction on the map.

“You will meet a Swiss operative there named Andre Schmid. You will have operational command. Together you are to venture into the restricted area and then the zone ahead of the main team. You are to follow the roads along the canal until you reach the junction here with the D 79 Road.” He traced the route along the map and it was quite a walk. We were actually outside the zone for about two-thirds of the distance. “Weapons teams on the other side of the canal will provide support for the areas you are outside the zone.” He answered the questions I was thought I could ask, but still, it was a long walk with many ambush points even before we entered the zone.

“We will be sending a fully reinforced support team with the sealing device and two additional operatives twenty minutes behind you. A British army sergeant named Gray will be leading the support team. I’ve been told that you have previously worked with the sergeant in charge of the unit.”

“I have.” I tell them.

“Good to know. You are to follow the D 79 up to the junction here when it meets the D 60. From there, you are to take the Chem du Fort here. Once you reach this T-junction, you are to turn then and head into the Fort Des Dunes where the breach is located.” He drew the route with his finger along the map. “Questions?”

“A few. The first one that comes to mind is why the planned route?” I asked him.

“These roads are clear of all abandoned civilian vehicles making transporting the sealing device far more practical.” He replied quickly, expecting that question.

“Okay. What if things get too dangerous and we must scrub the mission?”

“Fire off one standard red flare and the sealing team will pull back. If they get into trouble, they will fire off a flare to have you retreat.”

“Do we fire off a blue when we reach the breach?”

“Yes. To notify the following team that you’re there and us.”

“What is the condition of the Fort?”

“It was going through standard maintenance and restoration when the breach opened, so we cannot tell you much beyond that. The operatives that made it to the breach indicated that the conditions within the fort were deteriorating.”

“Where is the breach exactly?”

“Right here in front of the main building entrance in the courtyard.” He pointed to a sunken courtyard and I could see a clear line from the front of the Fort entrance to the breach.

“Right then. When do I pick up my weapons?”

“They have been delivered in a storage crate on the other side of the field. We will show you the way in just a few minutes.” He indicated to Major Martin, who had now joined the conversation.

“Operative Schmid, as you have been told, is Swiss. He was originally part of the Swiss zone containment teams. As far as we can tell, the fractured nature of the situation is also one of the last of those teams. The rest of all been lost in action against the expanding zones.” This was not going in a direction I was happy with. “Due to the global manpower shortage of operatives, he has been kept in active service. Many of us believe he is close to burnout, so we need you to keep an eye on him.”

“If you think he will break, why is he being sent?” I didn’t bother to hide my alarm and scepticism at the situation.

“Manpower issues. Euro Corps has almost effectively ceased as a continent-wide organisation. We are operating locally only now using whatever resources are to hand.” The major’s face indicated the stress he had been under for God knows how long and I reckoned he was in his mid-30s but looked to be in his mid-40s from the stress.

I had already been briefed that it was bad, but seeing it, in reality, hammered home the fact of how bad it was now in Europe. The continent was falling apart and far few desperate men and women were trying to hold it together.

“Well, this is one hell of a shit show. Let’s get it on the road.” I said glumly.