Free Designated (Book 1): Designated Infected by Ricky Cooper Page A

his
thigh and began to disassemble the firearm, methodically laying each
component out as he removed it. A deep sigh rolled up from within him
as he resigned himself to a very long wait.

    ****

    Baker stared at the monitors, the tracker ball in front
of him glinting teasingly as he watched his men through the camera
lens a floor away, he curled his fist smashing it against the
melamine covered surface. He felt impotent, less than useless as he
stared at the knot of men that may as well have been on the other
side of the world.
    'Is there any way we can contact them from here?'
    Baker's questioning gaze fell on Gervasii as the man
oozed over, slipping in next to Baker like a greased python. 'None,
otherwise your friend would be alive and they,' jabbed one skeletal
finger at the monitor before them, 'would not be locked away in the
security office.' Baker had to concede defeat on that issue as he
idly spun his palm over the tracker ball.

    ****

    Rawlings eyes screwed up in frustration as he heard the
whirring of camera's electric motor.
    'Kingsley you bloody jungle bunny pack it the fuck in!'
Kingsley's gaze settled on Rawlings, the man's face bent down as he
hunched himself over his partially assembled pistol.
    Picking up one of the nine millimetre rounds stacked in
front of him Kingsley hurled the steel and copper projectile at
Rawlings' head, a smile blooming when the satisfying crack of metal
on Kevlar echoed through the room.
    'What the hell? Okay I get it. I'm sorry for the jungle
bunny remark but stop pissing about with the damned camera!'
Kingsley sighed as he hurled another bullet at Rawlings.
    'I ain't, you dumb white prick, look.' Rawlings glanced
up as the second round rolled away from him, his searching eyes
landing upon Kingsley's sprawled frame as he lazily fed a freshly
loaded magazine into his pistol. 'Told you.'
    Rawlings nodded as he gazed up at the still moving
camera. 'What the bloody hell?'
    Bolton, drawn in by the raised voices turned his
attention to the source of the confusion.
    'Ain't picking up them out there is it?'
    Rawlings shook his head, his eyes locked on the rapidly
moving camera. 'No, mate. The sensor is focused into the room. I can
only guess it's there to keep an eye on the worker ants up here. So
what the hell is moving it, if it ain't us, or the Infected?'
    Something tingled in the back of Bolton's head as he
watched and listened to the camera's spasmodic dance; pulling a small
note pad and pencil from the map pocket of his trousers, he began to
drag the pencil over the paper. Slowly a series of lines and dots
appeared as he studied the camera's movements. 'It's the boss!'
    Rawlings looked round at Bolton, the man’s voice
dripping with a level of concentration that left his speech a dull
monotone shadow of its normal lilting self.
    'What?'
    He jabbed his now slightly blunted pencil at the still
moving camera. 'It's the boss.'
    Rawlings glanced from the paper to the camera, his eyes
growing ever wider as he did so. 'Pack me up and ship me to China, so
it is.'
    Snatching the pad from Bolton's hands, he quickly
decoded the message.
    'Sneaky git is using it as a telegraph. The jerking
isn't the sensor, it's bloody Morse code. Clever bastard must be in
the control room.' All three men stared at the message before them,
a vicious grin blossoming uniformly across them as they looked up at
the screaming, shambling violent mass of Infected humans mere feet
away.
    Lifting his reassembled pistol, Rawlings sighted down it
as he slowly mimed shooting the one before him. 'Bang, bang you're
dead.'
    'See, Fadei? That,' Baker cast a prideful grin over his
shoulder at the still heavily sceptical Russian, 'is why my boys are
always going to be better than anyone else's' Fadei snorted, a mild
level of disgust bubbling up, his eyes watched the screens intently.
The monitor flickered as it danced like a strobe light, Fadei still
gazing intently at the grainy coloured image dancing back and forth.
    He