Honeybee

Chapter 14

June 24^th 2016, Whitehall, London

Deep below the Ministry of Defence building, the Prime Minister massaged his temples as he tried to come to terms with the situation. Once the riots started, an emergency COBRA meeting was called and the Prime Minister was immediately escorted into the PINDAR bunker. Built in the late 1980’s within the shell of a Second World War Command Centre, the PINDAR bunker boasted the latest in communication and surveillance equipment and could sustain life indefinitely. With direct communications to military bunkers, the Prime Minister could command whatever action he and the cabinet deemed necessary.

‘I think you all know why we are gathered here,’ the Prime Minister started. ‘So I won’t recap on the events of the past few days. What I need is information. What is it? How bad is it? And how do we stop it?’

The cabinet members shuffled in their seats and sifted through their papers. Then one of then started to speak.

‘Well. We know it was caused by the TRS vaccine. It was rushed through and wasn’t thoroughly tested and now we have this.’

‘Don’t point out the bloody obvious.’ The Prime Minister said. ‘How many people are infected? How long will it last? Give me solutions.’

‘Latest intelligence says that over half the British population are infected. A small percentage seem to be immune to the virus but we don’t know how. The United States are in a similar position. The President has had no choice but to order the military to quarantine or neutralise all those infected.’

‘Kill them?’ The Prime Minister said with a look of horror. ‘There is no cure?’

‘No. Everything has been tried. A cure could be months or even years away.’

‘So what options are we left with?’

‘Half the population has been infected within two days. Our options are limited. In another day or two... there could be no one left.’

‘What you’re saying is, this needs to be stopped now. Today.’ The Prime Minister said.

‘Yes, but even then it could be too late.’

The Prime Minister continued to massage his temples as he tried to reach a decision. Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the screen at the back of the room showing a map of Great Britain. He had total control of the United Kingdom’s full military forces. He could order anything from a foot patrol to a full scale nuclear attack from any one of the country’s nuclear submarines. But he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Knowing which option he had to take, he struggled to speak the words.

‘It seems the States have the right idea. Eliminate the infected before they infect the rest of the country. We’ll mobilise the military. Anyone showing signs of infection are to be eliminated without hesitation. God have mercy on them.’

He wasn’t to know this would be the worst decision he had ever made in his entire career.