SEASON 4 EPISODE 1

THE PLASTIC RAIN

Written by GRANT FOXON & SCOTT BURDITT

PART ONE

Dezak Oil was unsinkable. The Oil Company was seriously rich.
Occasionally, the Arabs would cause a headache but nothing the all
encompassing Dezak Oil couldn’t cope with. In the Texan head office, Des
Marker was a proud oil baron. Money was a toy and Houston was his
plaything. He had everything. He sat in his luxurious office eyeing up Sally, his
beautiful leggy blonde secretary as she dropped yet more yawn-worthy
paperwork on his desk. The phone rang. Sally hit the intercom.
‘It’s Mr Mortimer, to see you Sir’.
‘Send him in.’
‘Good morning Mr Marker’ Mortimer looked worried.
‘Call me Des.’
They shook hands. Des noticed Mortimer’s sweaty palms.
‘I have some interesting news for you Sir.’
‘News?, what do you mean? Des wiped his hands on his jacket.
‘I have it on good authority that a threat to our somewhat extravagant
lifestyle has reared its ugly head again.’
‘What are you talking about man?’ Des was listening now.
‘Have you ever heard of an Aminostyrene called Variant 14?’
‘Can’t say I have, but nothing crushes the spirit more than poverty Mr
Mortimer.’
‘Quite. I have just spoken to our British colleague, Sir Nathaniel Graham
M.P. In no uncertain terms I have told him to get the situation under control.’
‘What situation?’ Des was listening now.
‘We have had a number of threats from the terrorist group the L.C.F.
‘What’s this got to do with us?’
‘Let me explain. A Sir George Holroyd was the Minister in charge of a
government department for the observation and measurement of scientific
work back in the 70s, codenamed ‘Doomwatch’ They tackled an accidental
outbreak of a virus called Variant 14 that specifically consumed plastic on
contact. Recently, the department has been ordered to regroup under Sir
Graham’s watchful eye as the British government is under pressure to tackle
groups like the L.C.F using their best scientific minds as direct military action
has proven long term to be ineffective. It looks like we could manipulate Sir
Graham to get this new Doomwatch to work to our advantage without them
even knowing it. He already has a Timmons from M.I.5 keeping this new

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group in check and he will report back to Sir Graham, who in turn will report
back to us.’
‘So, What does the L.C.F want from us?’
‘Well, they want an end to mankind’s thoughtless destruction of the
planet. They see companies like ours as a direct target, they…’ Des interrupted
him. Des knew where this conversation was leading and it made him angry.
‘Good God man, I am sick of this line of thinking. These Luddite groups
make me angry. Progress. We need oil and we need plastic. The modern world
can’t cope without it.’ Oil is finite, but until the day it dries up we can tackle
these people with whatever it takes. I don’t think they have thought this
through. If they destroy large amounts of plastic, they are actually helping us!’
‘That’s exactly my point Mr Marker. Sir Graham has links with the L.C.F.
He is going to allow them to hack Doomwatch’s computers to discover the
formula for recreating the plastic eating virus Variant 14. In so doing, the
L.C.F will invariably attack and large amounts of plastic will be destroyed. So,
who do you think will ultimately benefit from all this destruction?’
‘We will. When they need to rebuild, our orders for oil will hit the roof.
So, I suggest we raise our prices per barrel now in preparation and cash in.’
‘Brilliant. Mr Mortimer!. See that Sir Graham is well rewarded for this
won’t you?’
‘Quite, besides the L.C.F are stupid. The public won’t stand for it, the
people want their plastic. Try taking their mobile phones off them, their
precious computers, see how long that lasts, they will soon come around then!’

PART TWO

The black and white television droned on quietly in the background,

completely ignored. The wooden case that surrounded it was covered in stains
from shot glasses that had for years been placed on top of it with no thought
for any electrical safety or the protection of the wood. The television was in no
danger of being polished either, even now a half full tumbler of single malt
was precariously balanced on the edge of the set.

‘History. It has a habit of repeating itself. Man learns from his mistakes,
but not all mistakes are remembered….’ The presenter Nigel Chanter, was
having another rant on Channel 6. Yet another ‘Media Connections’ piece of
Doom-mongering Adam thought. He wondered if anyone listened to this kind
of stuff anymore. Surely people preferred to sit at home and do nothing and
expect the government to sort everything out if it was that important.

It was a miserable July morning. A typical British July, it was pouring

down. Adam Quist sat alone in his cottage staring out of a small window
looking quite miserable watching the rain. A shadow of his former self, he had
surrounded himself with books and artefacts of a time long since gone. At 37
he’d consigned himself to a life of solitude.
Enough had been set-aside in his father’s will for him to live the rest of
his life. He stared at his father’s photograph.

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 His father Spencer Quist, had died a decade ago and Adam had suffered
with depression, especially as he’d never joined Doomwatch when had the
chance. Something he tried not to think about. The sheer weight and notoriety
of his father’s scientific and academic legacy hung heavy over him.
Unfortunately for Adam, he now sought solace in a bottle.

He always intended to follow in his father’s footsteps, but Doomwatch

was dissolved shortly after his father died following the actions of a certain
‘radical’ member known as Clive Sellers. Clive Sellers had ruined everything
for Adam. If Clive hadn’t attempted to go to the press over a now much
covered up White Hall story and severe cutbacks, Doomwatch would probably
still exist.

The road Adam was supposed to follow had been taken away from him.
Drink. It was an obvious alternative road to take. A road that many had
trodden before, wasting life’s opportunities. Why didn’t he just get over the
fact that Doomwatch was gone and his father’s work was done. He’d given up.
Even now , he still thought about his father, but could never bring himself to
open the boxes that were given to him when he died. He’d put them in the
attic. Maybe some day he’d look at them.

Adam was never going to be very close to his father. Spencer Quist was
very forthright and was far too consumed with his work, spending long hours
at the office. When he finally did come home he never really seemed to know
how to express his love to Adam but Adam always knew his father was a good
man even though his mother said a lot of his problems stemmed from his guilt
over his involvement in the Manhattan Project and the death of his first wife
for many years.

His father still felt like a hero to him. He cared about the planet and it felt
like his father regularly tried save the world. If only he still had that
purposeful road to follow.
‘If only…’ he would often say to himself as he took another swig of
Whiskey straight out of the bottle.
It didn’t seem to matter now and the rain pouring down wasn’t helping
his mood. Adam had shook hands with the devil. He had sold his soul and now
lived alone with his books and his bottles. Desperate for a way out. Desperate
to be able to feel like a useful member of the human race. His mother tried her
best but Adam wanted to be left alone. He needed help and little did he know
that salvation was indeed on its way.

The car sped through the countryside with ease. Faster and faster, the
elderly driver showing no fear. The map that lay on the passenger seat
suddenly flew off onto the floor as the driver braked sharply.
‘I love the country!’ he exclaimed.
The cow just looked at him and stood in the middle of the road
unflinching. A quick blast of the horn had no effect. This was going to be fun.
He wound down the window, stuck his head out and shooed the cow out of the
way.

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 The weather didn’t improve, although in other ways the day did. At
midday the doorbell rang and it startled Adam. An elderly flamboyant dressed
man wearing a respectable colourful pink shirt, expensive suit and cravat was
standing there sheltering from the rain in the porch. He was slightly gaunt but
still had a fire in his eyes. He also had a walking stick and a mile wide grin.

‘Hello?’ said Adam. The elderly man didn’t reply straight away, instead
he studied Adam.
‘Yes… Yes you’re Quist’s alright. No doubt about it’ He said.

A thought stuck Adam. This man knew his father so he must be a

reporter or maybe someone more dangerous. Spencer Quist and Doomwatch
had made many enemies. Adam decided to get rid of him quick.

‘Look, who ever you are I’m rather busy and…’

‘No you’re not’ interrupted Ridge. The man pointed with his stick to a
three quarters empty whisky bottle on the table near the door. Adam felt a
pang of shame go off like a firework in his stomach.
‘Look who are you?’ said Adam.
‘My name is Dr John Ridge. I worked with your father many, many years
ago now. You may have heard of me?’ said Ridge proudly.

Adam couldn’t quite take it all in, he was acutely aware of a strong smell
of Whiskey coming from him, so he quickly shook his head to clear it. He
fumbled in his pockets for some mints. The man Ridge just smiled and made
his own way into the cottage. He then sat down on an armchair while Adam
stared at him in disbelief.

‘Very nice Adam, but a bit cluttered for my tastes’. Ridge said raising an
eyebrow and rubbing his finger over the dusty coffee table.
‘Look, what do you want?’ Adam was annoyed. He knew the place needed
tidying up but he just couldn’t be bothered, but all of a sudden he felt
embarrassed.

Ridge looked up at Adam and realised for the first time Adam wasn’t
happy to see him. ‘Me? Nothing. You on the other hand are in luck my friend’
said Ridge.
‘Luck? How? Have I won the lottery? I doubt it as I never play.’
‘Doomwatch. Now surely that rings a bell?.’
‘Of course.’
‘Well that’s something. As you know, it was officially incorporated into
various ministry departments. However, its effectiveness and public
awareness as moral crusaders for the truth is long since gone. But now we
need it back more than ever and to do that we need you’.
‘You’re barking up the wrong tree. Now if you’ll kindly leave me alone I
am busy.’
Ridge rubbed his forehead in frustration.
‘Listen you idiot, you studied science at Edinburgh. You are Spencer
Quist’s son. You are a natural born leader, you can do this and we need you…’
Adam shook his head violently.

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 ‘I’m getting old disgracefully, I’m probably an alcoholic and I have little
in the way of people skills left.’
‘Excellent. Well you could be perfect for a local MP. But I think you are
perfect for a new invigorated Doomwatch.’

Adam sighed. Was this guy for real? Turning up out of the blue claiming
to be a friend of his deceased father, even though his mother had never
mentioned him? Ok, so his mother never liked to discuss Doomwatch and
even attributed the demise after his father’s death.
And yet something compelled Adam to listen to this man.
Ridge watched Adam intently. Studying him. Ridge thought ‘Was he
ready? Just because he was the son of Quist was he really ready for the
challenge? The files he had read confirmed it, but was Adam Quist too far
gone…’ Neil Tannahill was assigned to another department but he was still
available should he not be able to convince Adam. He decided to go nuclear.
‘What do you know of the L.C.F?’ Ridge studied Adam carefully. The
words L.C.F resonated through Adam’s fuddled mind. Then he remembered.

‘The L.C.F, isn’t that…. Weren’t they responsible for the recent train
crash on the news using a chemical weapon? Wasn’t it actually reported later
as an acid attack?

Ridge sniffed and pulled a cigar out of his pocket and lit it up. Adam
couldn’t believe the man. ‘Do you mind?’ he said.

‘Oh you don’t like smoking. I forgot, nowadays we’re the lowest of the
low. Social lepers as it were!’ This comment had no effect on Ridge as he
continued to smoke while Adam dumfounded, just listened to what Ridge had
to say.

‘The L.C.F. It stands for Liberation Conservation Front. An organisation

set up some time in the nineties. It’s run by a man I am ashamed to say I used
to know, as did your father… Ridge paused.
‘Clive Sellers. I don’t suppose that rings a bell either?’
‘Yes. Yes that does. Wasn’t there some cover up, which led to Doomwatch
being split up?’
‘Yes, officially. Clive attempted to go public with a story about a navy
military operation that even now, cannot be openly discussed. The
government threatened the paper’s editor and the story was suppressed. Word
was put out quietly that if the story was printed, heads would literally roll.
Clive was a liability. Clive was fired, denied a pension and some of his
colleagues were put out of a job. Despite a tarnished reputation your father
tried to help him. It was a case of train and de-train with Clive. I know how he
felt. I had a breakdown in the seventies. I said and did some very stupid things
which to this day I deeply regret, but I thought it was for the greater good. You
can’t hold society to ransom, it doesn’t work and the L.C.F need to learn that
too. Of course, they didn’t reckon on Clive’s darkest intentions. He wasn’t
about to give up. He decided to take matters into his own hands. Usually by
force. Clive is an impatient man and wanted his revenge. He travelled to
somewhere in West Africa around 1992 and began gunrunning for quick
profit. He founded the L.C.F. An extremist unaccountable to any government

5
version of Doomwatch. The Liberation Conservation Front as they are known
is a force to be reckoned with Adam. They are an efficient covert eco-terrorist
organisation. They claim to believe in protecting the Earth above all else no
matter what the human cost.’

‘Not exactly the good guy’s right?’ said Adam.

‘No. They believe in eugenics and Clive Sellers promotes himself as the
idealistic founding leader of the L.C.F. Those closest to Clive obey him without
question. His beliefs make him feel like a messiah amongst ordinary morally
challenged people. Clive wants to protect the earth from the abuse of man and
eco-terrorism seems the only direct and immediate way of doing it.

As I said, Clive was a previous team member at Doomwatch, but he

proved himself to be too much an idealist to be trapped by restrictions of this
government funded organisation. Form filling, bureaucrats created, auditors
and officials were of no interest to him.

To Clive, our world is dying, raped of its mineral wealth and poisoned by
man and his insatiable greed whatever the cost. Clive sees most of the people
in this world as selfish ignorant sheep. The L.C.F is now a formidable
worldwide organisation and is linked to many political murders spanning the
globe. The F.B.I and C.I.A are particularly keen on crushing the leaders where
Britain has shown little interest in their global affairs until now. All this would
be easy that is, if we could actually find them. Word is, they are planning
something big, some sort of spectacle, so they are vulnerable.
So far the damage they’ve done has totalled to millions. But it’s not just
about the cost. People are sympathetic to their cause. They respect their
independence. They have somewhere in the region of a million supporters
world-wide through a large network if internet sites proxied through
legitimate servers. This time Clive might be planning a mass murder.’
‘A virus?’ said Adam
‘Of sorts. That train accident wasn’t so a straight forward chemical attack
as reported in the news. It was biological. We believe a plastic eating virus
called Variant 14 might be playing a big part in his plans. The Virus itself is
harmless to humans so we have no idea how they will be applying it. The train
crash might simply have been a test.’
Adam sat back shocked. Ridge continued to puff on his cigar.
‘Anyway. I’ve said too much. Are you coming back with me old chap?’
‘No.’ Adam said to quickly.
Ridge suddenly looked crestfallen.
‘No? Are you mad? I’ve just contravened the official secrets act for you!’
‘Well I never asked you too.’
‘Don’t you crave adventure and excitement? You won’t find that in the
bottom of a bottle Adam’
‘Now look!’
‘I supposed the apple fell a bit too far from the tree didn’t it?’ said Ridge
getting up.
‘Just get out!’ Adam couldn’t take anymore and his head was still
buzzing.

6
 Adam staggered to the front door and held it open inviting Ridge to
leave. Ridge slowly stood, checked himself in the dusty lounge mirror and
slowly strolled to the front door. He looked at Adam once more and then
strolled over to his bright red Jaguar S type and climbed in. He then drove off.
Adam’s heart sank. Yet again the opportunity to sort his life out had
now gone. Why didn’t he jump at the chance? Maybe if he had a clear head,
things would have been different. Slowly, Adam walked back into the living
room. ‘What have I done?’ He decided to make himself a coffee and sober up.
He hoped he actually had some coffee let alone any fresh milk. It was then he
then noticed a small card on the coffee table. He picked it up.

Run out of cigars! Just popped to village to buy some more. Be back in
half an hour, pack a bag old chap.

Ridge.

Adams heart began to rise as he found himself unable to suppress the

smile.

PART THREE

The impressive mirrored glass media centre building reflected the bright
sunshine over the passers by in London’s West Bank. Little did they know
what darkness lay within this facade. From the humble beginnings of the
women’s magazine ‘Lucy’, the company grew year on year, as it had done now
for over a decade making its shareholders very wealthy. The Company
transformed itself from print into broadcast media and it produced high
profile adverts and documentaries for radio and television, whilst gaining an
ever-increasing Internet audience for its many promotions. Media
Connections is the dream place to work. It’s a high profile, effective media
giant. It’s respected and loved by millions.

It’s also a perfect cover for the L.C.F.

Despite the poor economy, people still read and they still listened. The
company was able to use this effective media front to put across its idealist
messages. The message of conservation, preservation and working with
nature, above all else was always strong. Always keen on anti pollution and the
dangers of overpopulation stories, many listened. Those who followed
spanned class, race and culture. They listened because they cared. There were
even a few in the police force who were sympathetic and one very important
British civil servant.

Clive knew that in the East they always had very little intention of
helping in the plight to save the world. Indeed, their own people who were
starving in there millions. The West was no better, there was still a huge
amount of red tape to overcome, especially in the current health and safety-
constructed nightmare that governments used to discuss issues to death while
effectively doing nothing. Supporters of the L.C.F knew that they would always
take swift and direct action. Indeed its membership was always on the rise.
Members enjoyed the relative freedom to make a difference, no matter the

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cost.

Clive sat in his glass walled office staring intently at his computer
monitor. The images of the documentary on the screen did not make for
pleasant viewing. Nigel Chanter was as ever narrating.

….mankind is still destroying everything around it with little thought to

the consequences of such actions. The Earth is going to become a gigantic
slagheap. The virus called man is raping the Earth, all in the name of
‘technological progress’. In reality mankind is getting lazier and stupid. The
populace have been weaned onto technology and its never-ending upgrade
cycle and the mountains of rubbish this produces.

While you play with electronic gadgets and sit vegetating in front of the
TV, the government has you exactly where they want you. In your own
private ‘pen’, spied on using the internet. The world’s resources are
continually shrinking under the human population boom and Plant and
animals are disappearing. Nature has tried to cull human growth
unsuccessfully with disease. But humans are clever at self-preservation, no
matter what the consequences. People are living longer. Something needs to
be done to address the balance and for man to live in harmony with the
planet…

Clive was angry. This was a terrifying concept. It could only lead to
inevitable annihilation. If mankind wanted to die amongst its own rubbish
then let it. But the holocaust that would ensue would almost definitely kill all
of the remaining life on the Earth. This ‘virus’ had no right.

Clive had taken this moral crusade on himself and was determined to
find the answer. His team of scientists had tried to replicate the formula for
the plastic eating virus he knew would wreak havoc. The test on the train was
successful, but the virus died within minutes without finishing the job. This
was no use for what Clive planned.
As ever, the answer lay hidden. One of the files dated back to 1970, which
involved his long dead friend and social ally, Toby Wren. In this file contained
details of a top secret virus labelled ‘Variant 14’ aka ‘The Plastic Eater’. The
instructions to make it forgotten in a rusting filing cabinet. Forgotten by all.
Except Clive.

The file documented in detail the circumstances out of which a virus

created out of the desire to breakdown the plastic in waste products was
produced. The problem was the virus was incredibly effective, too effective. It
had an insatiable appetite for all plastic. It caused havoc. It had escaped
accidentally a couple of times in the 70’s, resulting in an accidental plane
crash. Which had given Sellers another idea that he couldn’t let go of.

Despite the outbreak, the virus was contained and ‘officially’ destroyed.
In reality the bacterial council who dealt with these contagions rarely disposed
of them. If there was the slightest chance it could be used as a weapon for
defence of the realm it would be safely filed away. Variant 14 was much more

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effective than any mere missile or nuclear device and much cheaper too but
far too uncontrollable and dangerous to deploy.

Sellers had an associate, Karl Womak. A loner all his life who didn’t
understand people and instead sought pleasure in the artificial world of
computers. He was a misunderstood genius. Clive saw his hidden potential
and recruited him. Sellers gave him confidence and a point to his existence.
Karl was an effective malleable ally.

With the information Karl had obtained, the L.C.F were able to hack into
a little known supercomputer at the newly re-opened government Department
for the Observation and Measurement of Scientific Work. ‘Doomwatch’ were
originally setup to investigate any scientific research public or private which
could possibly be harmful to man. The computer was also referred to simply
as ‘Doomwatch’. The same codename given to the department. The
Doomwatch computer was a machine originally built by Colin Bradley and his
team in the beginning of the 70’s for predicted disaster. The machine was
decades old but still proved to be an amazingly effective tool and stored a lot
of legacy information that badly needed transferring.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t built to resist the attacks of Karl Womak.
‘Doomwatch’ was at one time attached to the military ARPA network of
computers and it still had the information on its antique tape reels concerning
Variant 14, until budget cuts and progress took over and the machine was
simply turned off and stored for many years until its usefulness was properly
realised. The computer was now reconnected and hooked up to a brand new
Linux server nicknamed ‘Mainframe’ while all of the information was being
transferred.

Karl had used his hacking skills to access Mainframe and discovered the
location of the original Variant 14 microbiological research station at Beeston
Laboratories and the files on the subsequent results from a secret test at
Dungeness. Tonight, with the help of a team of trained L.C.F supporters he
had he would steal the original chemical formula to recreate the virus.

The training of the men and women wasn’t hard. Clive had been in the
military prior to Doomwatch. The recruits were passionate about fighting for a
cause they believed in. One of tonight’s team was Clive’s closest associate and
sometime lover Carly Whyte. A beautiful disillusioned 27 year old, she was
smart and still in love with Clive and believed in his ideology. In fact she saw
their relationship now as very much a master and his pupil.

Clive shut his computer down and closed his eyes. Mentally he was
preparing himself for what must happen tonight. The laboratory in Beeston
was deliberately unassuming in appearance. Security would be the key issue.
There was no room for error. Therefore he had told his people and prepared
them to shoot to kill. Tonight thirty people would be dead. More blood on
Clive’s hands, but everyone had the blood of the world on theirs.

Clive’s conscience still hurt him. He would look into their eyes and pull
the trigger. It was necessary. He had to. He has to change the world before it’s

9
too late. Clive thoughts were interrupted by a shallow and weak knock at his
door.
‘Come in’ he called.
Clive watched as Pete Wilks slinked into the room, his elbows up and his
body language rather submissive. Clive was a good judge of character and
knew that Pete was weak and immediately guessed he was attempting to back
out of tonight’s attack. This was totally unacceptable.
‘Pete, hi how are you? What can I do for you?’ he smiled wryly.
Pete smiled in return nervously and hesitantly sat down.
‘Clive. It’s just…well I don’t know how to tell you this but, I can’t go
tonight. I’m really sorry I thought I could but I, I just can’t do it.’
Clive paused a moment and then smiled.
‘No problem Pete. You of course won’t mention tonight to anyone?’
Pete vehemently nodded his head.
‘Oh God Clive, of course not. No, I’m with you 100% I just…can’t kill’.
‘Of course, after all the L.C.F cares about the world and its people. Now if
you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do’.
Pete immediately stood up and offered his hand. Clive just smiled and
opened the door. Pete nodded and headed outside. Clive then closed the door
and walked over his phone he dialled Carly’s number.
‘Hello Clive?’
‘We have a little problem’.

Half an hour later and Pete had arrived home at his modest abode near
central London. He walked in and collapsed on the settee. He wished he had
the courage to follow Clive tonight into the fray and kill in the name of justice,
but he just couldn’t, he felt like a failure.

Pete was too much of a coward and he hated himself for it. He looked
down at his enormous rotund belly and then around his living room that
echoed the word, ‘loner’. He was an empty shell of a being. Maybe it wasn’t too
late to call Clive and say he had made a terrible error. Just then the phone
rang. Pete answered it but the phone was immediately put down. Pete
dropped the phone confused and walked into the kitchen heading towards the
Sara Lee he had saved for tonight in the fridge. Just then there was a knock at
the door. Pete walked over to it and answered it.

Pete recognised the beautiful lady standing before him. She was there
with Clive at the training sessions. She smiled.
‘Hi, Pete isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. You were there at the training session’s right?’
Carly smiled at the recognition.
‘That’s right. I heard you can’t go through with tonight. Well, I can’t
either. In fact I’m worried, can I show you something?’

Pete nodded and Carly led the way to her black Land Rover. She opened
the boot. Pete peered inside. Without warning, she picked up a jack from
inside the boot and clubbed Pete over the head with it. She then threw him
into the boot with ease and then tied his hands together with rope and closed
the boot. With a quick look around she then ran back to the house and locked
the door using the keys she had grabbed from Pete’s pocket. After getting back

10
in the Land Rover, she then removed her gloves and threw them into the glove
box and drove off at great speed.

Slowly, Pete awoke just as the boot lid was opened. He recognised Carly
standing over him. His head ached and he felt blood trickling down his face.
She helped him out of the boot. He noticed he was in either a forest or
woodland.
‘Wha.., What are you doing?’
‘Move this way’. Carly gripped Karl’s arm and led him through an area of
the woodland at gunpoint. The pain cleared for a bit and he kept trying to
engage her in conversation but she ignored him, shoving him most of the way.
Finally Pete froze in terror as he saw the already dug hole in front of him. He
tried to scream but Carly pushed him into the hole.

‘It’s no good screaming. There’s no one here’. As calmly as she spoke she
walked away. Pete desperately tried to get out of the eight-foot hole. It was no
good. He couldn’t. There wasn’t enough time for Pete to even scream before a
bullet was fired into his head and he collapsed, dead.

It was 02:17 p.m.

All was ready. Slowly L.C.F’s team led by Clive in black clothes and
balaclavas approached the perimeter. One solitary security guard paced the
grounds. With the wire cutters Clive created a hole just large enough for his
team to break in one by one. When the guard was close enough they grabbed
him and forced him to the ground.
‘The access code for the terminal. What is it?’
Clive screamed as he held the knife to the guard’s throat.
‘I can’t tell you’.
‘What is it?’ Clive pressed the knife into the guard’s neck until it began
to draw blood.
‘Alright! 684391 Delta’.

Clive signalled to an operative who ran to the terminal and entered the
code the door then opened. Clive smiled and cut the guards throat. He then
led his men inside into the complex as they hid the body among some nearby
bushes. The operation was over in just 20 minutes. Taking each person by
surprise with their brute force. The mission was easy.

Later, Clive sat down with a neat Vodka and ice. He was wrong. 47
people actually died that day. But he now possessed the correct formula for
plastic virus Variant 14. All was ready.

PART FOUR

The car journey had proved fascinating. Ridge was pleasant company.
Sardonic and slight eccentric, he had filled Adam in on his previous
adventures. He also reminded Adam that he should be proud of his deceased
father and that he was one of the greatest characters Ridge had ever met.

11
 Adam had begun to wonder whether all this was because Ridge had made
a promise to his father before his death. There certainly was a huge amount of
respect between Ridge and his father. Ridge had also briefed Adam on the
possible likelihood of Doomwatch being reformed as an independent body if
the L.C.F where stopped.
‘So this virus. Are you going to tell me any more about it?’ Adam studied
Ridge for a moment.
‘I’ve just received news that Variant 14 has recently been stolen and we
believe it was the L.C.F who attacked, and killed everyone at Beeston and took
the virus. A very efficient job it was too.
‘Do you think Sellers was there?’
‘Undoubtedly. He’s a control freak with military training. Probably
paranoid too. He’d have to be.’
‘And this plastic eater. It attacks plastics, right?
‘You catch on fast don’t you Adam? Yes, all plastics and probably some
other similar chemical structures are at risk.’
‘Then what happens?
‘It breaks them down on a molecular level. There were a couple of
incidents in 1970 with passenger aircraft in San Pedro and Variant 14 was
shelved. The chemical used on the train attack seems to be an attempt to
recreate Variant 14, it obviously was supposed to cause more damage but the
formula used was wrong’
‘But why wasn’t it just destroyed?’
‘Come on you’re not that naïve. If it can be used as a weapon by the
military… anyway we’ve got an antidote that we think may work. However, the
original virus is incredibly contagious and once it’s released it spreads like
wildfire. Can you imagine what would happen to this modern world we live in?
We are surrounded in the stuff, our entire world as we know it would melt
around us in hours.’
‘That’s bad...’
‘Bad. Bad! It’s catastrophic! The recession has got nothing on this
blighter. No, the L.C.F has to be stopped now, once and for all. Ridge was
getting excited.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Take a look in that glove box there.’
Adam opened the glove box and was shocked to discover a gun and a case
of bullets. Adam wasn’t familiar with guns but it looked like a high quality, but
slightly antiquated weapon.
‘It’s a Colt 45’ Ridge smiled.
‘You’re not seriously going to use that are you?’
‘I don’t think you fully understand the gravity of the situation old boy.
We’re talking about the end of the modern way of life and these people are
absolute fanatics and you have to carry protection.’
Adam couldn’t take anymore. He was under the belief he was asked to
assist to make a difference and to stop a corrupt organisation. Not become a
killer. After all it was L.C.F who are the real killers. Not Doomwatch.
‘Stop the car. Stop the car! I want to get out, this is too much. You are too
much!’

12
 Ridge sighed and pulled over. Adam jumped out the car and looked
around. Ridge emerged after a minute and lit up a cigar, then offered it to
Adam. He declined.
‘Look, Adam there is no other way. They’re insane. Variant 14 was a
mistake. You’re right, it should have been destroyed, but it wasn’t. Now the
L.C.F has it and who knows how they will try and abuse it now they have the
real thing.
‘Is it really such a bad thing?’
‘Come on you don’t mean that.’
‘But murder...’
‘Look this isn’t what Doomwatch stands for. But Sellers must be
stopped.’
‘I thought he was a friend.’
‘You listen to me. Your father and Toby, two very dear friends I lost who
would be appalled at murder. But they would agree that the stakes are just too
high. It’s just the sort of thing your father would turn a blind eye to. It’s for the
greater good.’

‘Isn’t that how the L.C.F justify their actions?’

‘For God’s sake I’m not justifying murder. It can never be justified.’
‘I thought terrorist organisations are like hydra? Cut the heads off and
another crops up in its place...’
‘No, Sellers is the L.C.F. Believe me there is no other way and time is
running out!
Adam was convinced. He climbed back into the car and it sped away
down the road towards London and towards the new temporary headquarters
for Doomwatch.

*****************************

Karl Womak had really enjoyed poking around Mainframe’s files. He had
created himself and invisible backdoor key and despite the computer regularly
having security password and codex changes, each time Karl knew how to
crack it with ease and was always straight back in.

It had already paid off as Clive now had access to the virus he said would
always bring about L.C.F’s ultimate victory over the so-called ‘advanced’
world. Karl enjoyed this thought and that he, an ignored figure would
ultimately play such a pivotal role in the reshaping of the human race.

*****************************

The early 19th century building was rather unassuming. Inside it was very
different. A state of the art laboratory was set up. Adam followed Ridge’s lead
inside looking around in awe at all in front of him. He was then introduced to
his new fellow scientists.

Ridge seemed to vanish distracted by a file he’d been given. Instead he

met Paul, a smiling pleasant well-built man with a slight Manchurian accent.
He shook Adam’s hand with quite some force. He immediately engaged Adam
in a conversation about his thoughts on Variant 14 and explained he was a

13
chemist/biologist and very proud that he graduated from Oxford with majors
on atmospheric chemistry and synthetic biology.

Adam immediately felt inferior and embarrassed, but once again it

seemed his father’s reputation preceded him and Paul was in perhaps more of
an awe of Adam than the other way around.

At this point Ridge reappeared with another man. The man looked lean
with an aggressive face, but a slightly camp voice. Adam would discover this
was Timmons sent on detachment from a security section of M.I .5.

‘Are you sure?’ said Ridge

‘Yes. It’s seems that is how L.C.F found out about Variant 14.’ said
Timmons
Ridge seemed worked up and annoyed.
‘Paul, shut down that infernal abacus! Do it now!’ Ridge ordered
‘What?’
‘Just do it man, pull the plug on that overgrown calculator right now!’
‘No, we don’t want them to know we tracked their entry point.’ replied
Timmons
‘Entry point?’ said Adam
‘The L.C.F has broken into our super computer.’ said Ridge.
‘What?’ said Paul.
‘We’ll attempt to trace their geographically location.’ Timmons picked the
phone up ready to dial.
‘Oh come on, they’re not going to advertise their presence man! They’ve
been too clever. Unlike your department, Einstein.’ said Ridge
Timmons put the phone down and skulked away.
‘If we’re trying to get Doomwatch fully re-established should we really be
upsetting him like that?’ said Paul.
‘Never mind him. Me, on the other hand, I’m going out. In the meantime
look after Adam would you?’ said Ridge
‘Where are you going?’ Adam looked confused without looking back
Ridge replied ‘Out’.
‘Don’t worry, he does that a lot. He is somewhat unorthodox.’ Paul rolled
his eyes.

PART FIVE

Ridge stared down at the malt whisky in front of him. He was an

enigmatic man but when there was no one around to impress, he became a
prisoner of his own neurosis. He no longer felt great shame for his actions in
1972. Time was indeed a healer, and after all mental illness was no longer
taboo. Despite that, it had made him feel weak. A weakness that still lurks in
the shadows of his mind. Ridge never happily discussed his depression. Ridge
knew Quist never looked and thought of him in the same way after threatening
the world with phials of anthrax. But who could blame him? Thankfully, he
had been stopped. The government paid for his private treatment and Ridge
was saved. But he was no longer the same man. He had become damaged.

14
 In future, Quist reconsidered certain assignments because he didn’t want
to run the risk of sending Ridge in. Risk. The words echoed around Ridge’s
mind like some evil black dead weight. Threatening to pull him under and
drown him at any moment. Instead, Clive got the assignments. An idealist
who was once school friends with Toby Wren. They had similar ideals and
maybe because of the guilt Quist felt he put upon too much on Clive. Certain
psychological mandatory examinations stated that Clive had suppressed
sociological disorders and tendencies. He would even go on to make the same
foolish mistake as Ridge. Only Clive would take it one step further.
One day, Clive would take too much interest in a file simply marked
‘Variant 14’.

*****************************

Adam sat in the laboratory his mind in a thousand different places. None
of them good. As yet, no one had any clue what to do next. Forensics
confirmed Clive was present at the raid but no other DNA matches had yet to
be discovered. The accomplices to the raid were believed to be foolish
members of the public, fighting for a cause they really didn’t fully understand.
Many of which probably never even returned a library book late.

There was no time to find them.

The L.C.F would already have the new batch of the virus prepared and
they would certainly use it. It was only a matter of where and when, but no
matter what transport was again a possible target. It worked once before, and
Clive thought that there was nothing better than an encore.

The one hope would be if M.I.5 could trace the leak from the Doomwatch
computer, but that was a small hope.

Clive Sellers details had been released across the country to police
stations and to military barracks and was now classified as the countries most
dangerous man on the loose. A press conference was due to be called this
afternoon, however, no one dare tell the truth. A fake cover story was being
prepared. Something, which hopefully would cause dissention in his own
ranks. The story would link him with sexually molesting young boys and girls
in the eighties and nineties. This would definitely lead to his capture.

Adam felt repulsed at the actions being taken by the government ‘for the
greater good’ which is what Clive Sellers hated too. Adam decided he needed
some air and made his excuses and headed outside.

The sun was shining and a mother was walking down the street with her
two young children. A far away ice cream van could be heard playing ‘popeye
the sailor man’. Adam wondered if wasn’t all a dream. Whether the virus really
would change anything or whether he was just another insane fanatic. Was
there really was any hope for the human race or human society? When the
difference between the good guys and bad guys becomes blurred can
Doomwatch really make the difference? Become a force for good like it was in

15
the past? Adam was determined that in a sick society any heroes are
desperately needed, regardless of the situation.

Adam’s thoughts then turned to Ridge then the gun and their
conversation earlier.
Unbeknown to Adam, he was being watched. In a nearby car sat Carly.
She studied Adam. She wasn’t at all impressed. Of course she had never
known his father.

Clive was desperate to get this Adam involved. As if he craved Quist’s

acceptance. What with Spencer Quist dead his son was the next best thing. He
couldn’t believe his luck when Karl found Adam’s details on the Doomwatch
computer.

Clive honestly believed Adam might join his cause. He wanted to rub
Doomwatch’s nose in it. It was early days and recruiting Adam would do that
perfectly. But Carly had different ideas. Maybe it was jealousy, maybe the
thought of Clive trying to impress someone other than herself evoked jealous
emotions? One thing for sure, Carly didn’t like this idea, especially with so
much at stake. This was a time they had to be extra careful and involving
Adam was just crazy. It would be easier to just kill him.

Adam was oblivious to Carly. He was too busy imagining what it would
be like if society as we knew it was to simply melt away. So many of life’s
luxuries would disappear, so much progress, and Adam wasn’t a Luddite. For
every truly great accomplishment- an end to small pox, man landing on the
moon, Penicillin, the list was endless, there were pointless wars, genocide and
above all, pollution. Pollution of the planet and pollution of the mind.

The Variant 14 plastic virus was created as a biological weapon which

actually had the power to do good. It could have helped to tackle the build up
of plastic waste. The government creating their own chimera to stop another
man made problem. Could there even be a future if society continued where it
was going? And what of man? What monstrous, greedy demon would man
become in 100 years? Whilst in the third world starvation, leprosy and
dysentery kill in their millions, what of Western man? Will 80 or 90% of the
population suffer from obesity, high cholesterol and heart disease? Teeth
rotting in the mouth and AIDS on the increase? It was then that Adam
doubted that maybe this had all been a big mistake. Maybe Ridge shouldn’t
have contacted him. Adam started to believe that there was nothing that he
could do. One man could not make a difference. Could he? So why try?

No. This was doing him no good at all. He very quickly pulled himself
back from the abyss. You can’t think like this. This is illogical. In reality there
is no black and white. Only grey. The L.C.F may be pure in their own beliefs
but not their intent. Eco-terrorists profess to value all life. They don’t kill. But
the L.C.F was something new. They had to be stopped. Clive Sellers was mad.
The destruction of the world’s plastics would inevitably lead to millions dying
and mass hysteria. Human society would not change without a significant
prod in the right direction. It would just heal and carry on. Politicians are
ineffective. Clive must believe that if something is to be done to bring about

16
change, the L.C.F must do it and they must do it now. He had a point, but the
wrong doers would still be in control and those in the right would still suffer.
That would always be true. At least in the present climate Doomwatch could
do some good. No, Clive Sellers had to be stopped like Ridge had said. No
matter what…

*****************************

‘What? Are you insane?’ Paul looked deep into Timmons eyes and saw he
did indeed mean it.
‘The leak came from this department. It stands to reason that it’s Ridge’.
Timmons replied with dedicated venom.
Paul and he suspected everyone else but knew very little about Ridge. He
was the only remaining member of the original Doomwatch outfit. He still
liaised with the government on certain matters. But he seemed so dedicated.
Too dedicated surely?
‘You’re sure it was him?’ said Paul.
‘I have just got off the phone with Sir Nathaniel Graham MP and he
assures me that Ridge looks like the guilty man. We’re currently tracing the
hacker who got into Mainframe. As soon as we do, Ridge, Sellers and all the
other eco-nutters will be locked away for a very, very long time’. Timmons
looked pleased with himself.
‘What about Adam?’
Timmons pondered this before replying.
‘I don’t know. But we should assume that he is in on it with Ridge. I’ll
send him away. A long flight I think to keep him out of the picture while we
investigate’.

*****************************

Ridge stared at himself in the mirror long and hard. He noticed he was
looking particularly old. Living alone was not good for Ridge. He wasn’t a
natural loner, but his old school values made him feel like a dinosaur in a
modern age. He was actually beginning to feel like an extinct species. He
reached for his jacket and decided to head back to Doomwatch headquarters.
He had allowed himself too much time to waste and now he needed to get
straight back into the thick of it. He had fulfilled his promise to Quist about
his son and now he had a madman to stop. With that Ridge decided not too
look at himself in the mirror again.

*****************************

Clive Sellers was busy. His newfound infamy had neither particularly
disgusted or worried him. His image was now being circulated as a dangerous
paedophile that should not be approached. The affect on his fellow L.C.F
members had backfired. They believed him more than ever now and less in the
corrupt government that now ruled over him. He also suspected that the
government would welcome some drunken, yobbish lynch mob who would
murder him. He had gone into hiding in a laboratory he had set up a few years
ago. He planned how the virus would be unleashed. ‘Variant 14’ was such a

17
harmless name and he’d tried many times to recreate the formula. To man and
other known living forms of life it was quite harmless.

Clive couldn’t wait to unleash Variant 14. The incredible contagious

nature meant it would only be a matter of time before it spread across the
country. It was an effective weapon that would spread havoc fast.

PART SIX

‘I’ve got it!’ shouted Paul as he looked up from his microscope, looking
particularly pleased with himself. Adam who had been lost in thought
suddenly snapped back into the real world.
‘Got what?’
‘We’ve been looking at this all wrong. Instead of worrying about
stopping L.C.F, we should be concentrating on an anti-virus’.
Adam nodded in agreement.
‘Obviously. Does that sample help you?’
‘Yes, but it is going to take months, maybe years to find an effective
antidote and even then, how do we go about deploying and preventing further
attacks?
Adam thought for a moment. This was getting serious.
The silence was broken by a phone call. Adam answered the phone.
‘Hello?’
‘Adam, it’s Timmons. We have a problem. We have information that
leads us to believe Sellers will attempt to use the virus on an airliner. That’s
not all though, a certain oil company has been leaning on the government.
This could cost the oil industry billions. We need a result fast’.
‘I think we’ve got something Timmons…. What? You’re sending me
where?’
Adam left the room making his apologies.
Paul continued to stare down at the metal microscope at a metal dish
containing a dead sample of Variant 14. He was making notes on a notepad
with a pencil as Timmons entered in a fluster.
‘Well have you made progress?’ Timmons demanded.
Paul waited a moment before looking up from his microscope enjoying
the moment.
‘Variant 14 attacks plastic on a molecular level. It seems to be made of
various vinyl acetates, chlorofluorocarbons and maleric anhydride’.
Paul smiled at the blank expression on Timmons face.
‘Of course Mr Timmons I wouldn’t expect any of that to mean anything
to you’.
Paul had succeeded in aggravating Timmons.
‘What do you mean by that?’ he said attempting to assert his authority.
‘Nothing Sir. You do know Adam is nothing to do with the L.C.F don’t
you?’.
‘That leak came from mainframe’.
‘And I suppose it is inconceivable to you that the leak could have come
from M.I.5?’

18
 Timmons seemed even more annoyed by Paul’s implication that the leak
could have come from his department. Paul couldn’t help but wonder if he had
touched a raw nerve.
‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe some one else in this department was
responsible. Would you like to own up to anything?’
‘Oh for God sake Timmons! Just go away. I’ve got an antidote to work
on. Why don’t you make some optimistic plan about catching L.C.F and assist
your M.P. friends in their expenses?’
Now Paul had really done it. Timmons got right into Paul’s face as he
spoke softly and menacingly. ‘If you dare make a comment like that when Sir
Graham is here I swear I shall have you in a cell’.
He then walked out the room in a huff. Paul wished he hadn’t pushed
him so much. But there was no place in life for regrets and he had an
important job to do.

*****************************

Clive sat alone. The room was barely lit by energy saving bulbs. In front
of him lay a collection of books. He was composing his thoughts. His mind
was currently roaming an astral plane and thinking about the teachings of Hsi
Yu Chi. The teachings of change. Modern life would change and L.C.F would
force the entire globe into a greener way of life. Man has no right to treat the
Earth as badly as it did. We do not own this planet we merely inhabit it as a
disease might inhabit a host. If we continue to devour, then we too shall kill
the host. When the Earth finally breaks apart man shall finally learn an
important lesson. Too late. But the L.C.F can and will change all that. For
decades, man could have put planned to take make steps to help save the
planet. But he didn’t. Instead he let the problem worsen whilst he grew fat of
the profits. He was a man obsessed.

*****************************

Ridge arrived at Doomwatch. His I.D pass was refused by the guard.
‘Now wait a bloody minute!’ Ridge began to protest as Timmons
appeared.
‘Ahh… Mr Ridge. I was wondering if we might have a word with you?’
‘Certainly. I’ve got two for you Timmons’.
The guard laughed but Timmons shot him a look.
‘I think you should come inside’.
The conversation was caught short by the arrival of Sir Nathaniel
Graham M.P. Timmons looked at Ridge, his eyes displaying weakness.
‘Oh, doesn’t your master know about mainframe? Shall we include him in
our little chat Mr Timmons?’
Timmons glared at Ridge and then rushed over to Sir Graham. Sir
Graham was a healthy if a little thin gentleman. He had a disarming air about
him. He waved Timmons away and then headed towards Ridge.
‘I know you Ridge. Ridge isn’t the leak. You were in the original
Doomwatch. You chaps were real trend setters back then. I did try and get
certain green issues pushed through the houses of parliament… of course most
were swept under the carpet I’m afraid.
I don’t know why they never got rid of me’.

19
 ‘Well Sir Graham, if all the green issues were pursued and proved
unprofitable, they’d need a fall guy’. Ridge used his best winning smile.
Timmons blood went cold until Sir Graham suddenly laughed.
‘I like you Mr Ridge. Why don’t you join us?’
‘I’m afraid Sir Graham I am a little tied up, Mr Timmons here was just
about to arrest me for… what was it…industrial espionage’.
Sir Graham looked Timmons up and down distinctly unimpressed.
‘Nonsense. Have him join us Timmons’.
Sir Graham. His chest puffed out, began to march ahead. Ridge smiled
sarcastically as Timmons had no choice but to allow Ridge to enter. Timmons
blood began to boil.
‘Nice try Timmons’. Ridge muttered as he walked on ahead. Ridge then
waited and turned to Timmons as he caught them up, then looked back at Sir
Graham.
‘Forgive me Sir Graham, but you don’t mind if I smoke do you?’
‘Not at all. That is as long as Mr Timmons has no such objection?’
They both glared at Timmons.
‘Well…I…’
‘Jolly good, as you were Mr Ridge’.
Ridge’s smile beamed across his face as he lit up a cigar and overly
dramatically took his first drag.
‘Now this is real quality. Would you like one Timmons. Oh wait you don’t
smoke do you?’
Timmons could feel himself losing control.
‘Look, there are more important matters at hand. Please gentlemen
follow me!’
Timmons led the way and Ridge and Sir Graham followed.
Inside the conversation continued. ‘So you see Sir Graham. The leak
came because someone here allowed hackers to…’
‘No. Not true’ Ridge interrupted Timmons.
‘What?’ Timmons replied yet again, annoyed by Ridge, he checked his
gun was still hidden in his waistcoat. Yes, it was, that made him feel better.
‘The hack could have been external. Look only a few months back an
autistic middle aged bloke hacked his way through the C.I.A’s database.
‘There didn’t have to be a leak to allow someone to access mainframe’
explained Ridge.
Timmons could see his words were having the desired effect on Sir
Graham. Damn you Ridge.
‘Sir Graham, that was an isolated incident. And we are not the C.I.A’ said
Timmons.
‘You can say that again. I imagine if you were Sellers I would be in a cell
awaiting execution long before now. But no, you gave him a low profile. Well
you don’t give fanatics low profiles. Because this happens. Maybe you should
read some history books Timmons. Might learn something there’ Ridge then
tutted.
‘How dare you!’ snapped Timmons.
Sir Graham finally stepped in.
‘Gentlemen please. It’s clear you have some issues you two need to iron
out. Well that’s fine. But we have a more serious problem here. Now we accept
Mr Ridge’s theory holds certain validity. But it’s less likely than what Mr
Timmons is suggesting. Therefore we look for our leak’.

20
 Timmons jumped in. ‘And I say we start with you Ridge. I read your file.
You nearly started world war bloody 3. If anyone is with the L.C.F it’s you.
You’ve been behind the scenes for years. Planning with Sellers no doubt!’

Ridge immediately went for Timmons but missed. Timmons then punched
Ridge in the chest and Ridge went down.
‘Your way too slow old man’.
‘Now that’s enough. The pair of you. Timmons get out now’.
‘But he…’
‘I said get out!’
Timmons marched out.
‘I’m sorry about that’ said Sir Graham
‘Don’t worry. I think the stupid prat had a point. I am too old.’ said
Ridge.
‘Nonsense.’
Ridge smiled and Sir Graham helped him up.
‘Do you really think the hacking was an outside job?’
‘Maybe, I don’t know’.

PART SEVEN

She was beautiful. Her long and slender body a sight to behold. Men
found her attraction irresistible, but she was cold to the touch. She stood
quietly in the hanger waiting, utterly wasted, waiting for chance to show the
world how great she really was. To many she was a symbol of pure
extravagance for those with too much money and not enough time. To others,
she was an environmental disaster. How apt. What a perfect symbol she would
make once again. This time, for the L.C.F.

It was an impressive display of technological advancement that always

drew a crowd with her raw power and sex appeal. In that crowd Clive Sellers,
stood in awe of the machine and wondered what it would look like with a large
L.C.F banner on the tail. He couldn’t contain himself anymore and a broad
smirk spread across his face much to the bemusement of his fellow onlookers.
This was going to be unforgettable. The world was going to love this. Posing as
an onlooker, gave him the insight into what this once magnificent aircraft
achieved as he was shown around the impressive collection. He couldn’t wait
to abuse it.

Concorde F-BTSD Sierra Delta.

One of the youngest of the remaining Concorde’s. She was kept lovingly
in near-airworthy condition. Le Bourget Air and Space Museum in Paris was
an easy target. Where else could you get a supersonic aircraft that wasn’t in
possession of the military? The operation had taken over two years to come to
fruition and leaving cold rain soaked Britain and arriving in France in the
bright sunshine to see his new baby fly gave Clive butterflies.

It was just perfect. The L.C.F was ready to strike. All the preparation
would now pay off. Despite the safety fears the tickets for an exclusive Paris to
London and then New York, were sold out in just two minutes. ‘How quickly

21
people forget’ thought Clive. It was the perfect cover for the operation and an
added bonus that they could do some low flying for the entertainment of the
public on the ground below whilst delivering a nasty little surprise.

The public on both sides of the channel obviously still loved her and both
thought they owned her. A once in a lifetime opportunity to fly on Concorde
for one final time. The golden ticket sales brought in a nice unexpectedly large
profit too. Little did they know how final that flight would be.

Albertine Dice had done an excellent job. His operations team had
proven ruthlessly efficient and the operation had gone with few setbacks. The
L.C.F staff had gradually replaced over half the original members of the
museum as most had unexpectedly left or disappeared without any formal
notice. Another L.C.F specialist trait. However, a high turnover in staff in just
six months didn’t go unnoticed, but it was necessary. If anyone discovered
their plans it would all be ruined. Those that did talk about their suspicions
about the ‘restoration work’ being done on Sierra Delta were taken care of.
The large fuel tanks were filled to the maximum. Over 4500 miles in the tank,
it would be more than enough for this special trip.

The container tanks were fitted to Sierra Delta in stages at night. Over
three quarters of the hold was converted into liquid storage space and the
metal spray jets were fitted spanning the wings of the aircraft with metallic
control levers fitted for operation. All that was needed was the new Variant 14.

The night before the flight a black tanker pulled up at the gate and with a
wave of a security pass from the driver and a knowing smile, it was let straight
through. The tanker slowly made its way to the hanger, its liquid contents
sloshed in the giant tank. Inside the cabin were five L.C.F engineers wearing
protective suits. The hanger doors were opened and the tanker disappeared
inside. The doors were slammed shut and all entrances to the hangar were
locked. The men jumped out and immediately set to work. One of them
attached a hose to the container and the other to the tanks in the cargo bay.
The pump was started and the brown liquid flowed while the men checked to
make sure there were no leaks. As the tank was emptied as quickly as the
tanker came it left. They were ready for the morning.

The sun rose at the end of the Le Bourget airfield and despite the early
hours, crowds had begun to gather. Not a single person didn’t have either a
video camera or a mobile telephone at the ready to film the day’s event.

As the hanger opened, Ambre, a small girl in the crowd stopped eating
her chocolate bar and pointed shouting ‘Regarde, Regarde! Her father cheered
and clapped as the low pointed nose of the aircraft emerged into the sunlight,
momentarily glinting in the sun. A fine haze appeared to surround the craft as
she was slowly towed from the hanger.

It was forty five minutes before she was in position and it proved to be an
extremely popular photo opportunity for the crowd as fathers lifted their
children up onto their shoulders, so they could see the lucky passengers
boarding the aircraft. Their arrival in sleek high powered cars was to be

22
expected. Only the seriously rich were going to be on this flight, plus a few
lucky winners and bidders on eBay.

Sierra Delta’s engines roared into life as she unleashed her power. The
watching crowd roared and cheered louder in delight as the sleek aircraft
taxied slowly down the runway. The passengers on board were having a field
day. Champagne and chocolates were plentiful and excitement levels were
high.

Clive knew the aircraft was either unlikely to make the whole journey or
may even be shot down by the military when they discovered what was going
on. But it didn’t matter, by that time it would be too late. His team of scientists
had mapped the journey the aircraft would take and drawn up maps of the
most effective target spots to release the plastic eating chemical, the bonus
was the release of Variant 14 into the clouds which carry the virus for many
hundreds of miles completely unstoppable in its spread.

The sound of the jet engines was impressive, as Sierra Delta finally left
the runway and soared into the sky at an astonishing 250mph. On board
Variant 14 was sloshing around in the tanks, hungry and dinner was on its
way…

*****************************

In seat 1A on Flight 272, Adam sat frustrated. He had to get back to

Doomwatch, fast. He had discovered his new mission was a decoy. The plane’s
seats were uncomfortable to say the least. Cutbacks had to be made and
economy travel was the now the standard. It was too late to save the
passengers on Concorde. It just wasn’t good enough. The briefcase containing
a sample of the Variant 14 killing solution he’d taken with him for further tests
sat by his side. Adam found it hard to take his eyes of it.

*****************************

Onboard Sierra Delta, Susan Haversham admired herself in a plastic

cased compact mirror. Her looks meant everything to her. Age wasn’t going to
defeat her and at 38, she still looked hot and she knew it.

The plastic surgeon’s had done a great job. Cost was no barrier to Susan,
as she always got what she wanted. She felt 16 again. Susan sat with her
entourage of fashion models and designers and snapped at the stewardess as
she walked by. ‘You. Bring me a Coffee, now, with milk and no sugar and be
quick about it.’ Her rudeness astonished her fellow passengers and despite her
beauty, she suddenly looked quite ugly. The stewardess pulled a face briefly,
and then said ‘Certainly madam’ and then she head off towards the front of
the plane. A very ‘special’ coffee was going to be made. Luanne had dealt with
many a celebrity before, and knew how to get her own back.

23
 The journey across the channel was swift and Emily sat in the rear
baggage hold waiting for the signal. Her stomach was rolling, she wasn’t
feeling well. Then the signal came. The Captain announced they were flying
low over London. Emily pushed the metallic lever hard. Emily loved every
minute of it. As she pushed the lever to the open position and the jets outside
of Concorde began to spray their deadly cargo, Emily didn’t notice the leak
from the mechanism. She touched Variant 14 without even realising it. Emily
suddenly felt the need to go the toilet. She felt sick. She made her way to the
toilets in the middle of the plane. Emily looked green. She started running but
it was too late. She bent over double and was sick in the aisle.

Luanne was an efficient and sensitive steward, she spotted Emily from
the front of the plane and quickly grabbed some cleaning materials and a sick
bag. As she made her way towards Emily, Susan grabbed her arm. ‘Where’s
my coffee?’ she snapped. ‘Excuse me madam I have another passenger to
attend to, I will be with you as soon as possible’ and pulled herself free from
Susan who now let go easily as she stared down the isle at a women bent over
making disgusting retching sounds.’ Just hurry up’ she called after her.

Something was wrong. As Luanne helped Emily to her to her feet and
handed her a sick bag. Quickly, in order to not upset other passengers, she
bent down and used her assortment of paper towels and cleaning equipment
to clean up as fast as possible. The smell was rancid. As she tied the plastic bag
up and sprayed a lemon disinfectant, she asked Emily if she was feeling better
and gave her a mint from her pocket to chew on whilst she helped Emily back
to her seat. ‘Where are you sitting madam?.’ Emily just ignored her and
started off towards the back of the plane.

Undeterred, Luanne made her way to the front of the plane and put the
rubbish bag quickly with the rest of the passenger’s cartons, cups and used
dinner plates. As she turned away, she didn’t notice the purple swirling liquid
break free from the bag. As it oozed out, it appeared to spread quickly around
the plastic trays and slowly they began to dissolve. Variant 14 was free again
and it was hungry. The cups and then the plates were quickly reduced to
sludge. Still unnoticed by all, Sierra Delta was now doomed.

Fifteen minutes later, a yellow light went on in the flight cabin and
Captain Jim French looked suddenly worried. Concorde’s Engine 1 shut down
for a couple of seconds and then came back on line. The Passengers noticed. A
slight panic crept over the plane and some people started to laugh nervously,
trying no to look concerned. Susan didn’t notice, or care for that matter what
was going on around her. She had been on many flights before. Turbulence
was nothing. She took a sip of her Coffee and nearly spat it out. The milk was
off. She stared at the cup in utter disgust and was about to complain, when the
cup suddenly dissolved and hot Coffee spilt over her legs. She screamed in
pain.

In the streets of London below, Michael was fed up. Shopping was
boring, life was boring. But he needed to eat. He looked into the window of the
cake shop at a very large jam doughnut. Concorde roared overhead with a
strange intermittent high pitched whirr. He looked up in the bright sky at the

24
plane as it flew overhead and Michael clasped his hands against his ears.

As rain inexplicably started fall, he swore as he'd forgot to bring his umbrella.
After the shock of the Concorde passing overhead, the doughnut he was eyeing
up suddenly became less interesting. Drip, drip drip. ‘What on earth is that’ he
exclaimed. He picked the gooey substance of his exposed shoulder and studied
it for a moment. As he felt the tackiness he suddenly started to feel queasy. He
had a pacemaker fitted many years ago and for some reason this immediately
sprang to his mind. Inside Michael's body, a feast was going on. Variant 14
was absorbed into Michael’s skin and gorged on the plastic in his Pacemaker.
Michael felt light headed, his arms began to ache and he fell to the ground,
panic stricken. Someone spotted him and rushed to help, but it was too late,
Michael wasn't going to be miserable ever again...

Within minutes of the rainfall, the scene in the street was one of utter
chaos. Cars narrowly avoided people, slamming into what shop windows
remained intact as the PVC that bound them together started to dissolve.
People were running to avoid falling glass, women and their children, rushed
into the safety of the shops, watching in amazement at the scene around them
unfolding.

In a clothes shop, coats and trousers fell to the floor one by one, the
melting hangers giving way. Outside, yet more cars pathetically ground to a
halt, bumpers dragging behind them dripping over the tarmac.

Fern Stenson couldn’t believe what was happening, all she wanted was
£20, to buy her son some cheap black shoes. The little pain had managed to
lose one at school the day before and had come home in his socks. He claimed
Barry the school bully grabbed him and pulled it off his right foot and ran off.
As Fern stood at the cash machine, she entered her pin, tutted at the balance
on the screen and went to retrieve her card. As she pulled it, half of it oozed
and stretched from the machine like bubble gum. ‘What on earth?’ She
suddenly was aware of the chaos around her and had to move sharply as a car
skidded passed her and her son.

And yet, Sierra Delta carried on its journey of destruction, much to the
amusement of Sellers, who watched the local news story unfold on Channel 6
as the chaos spread. No-one knew what was happening. It was all going to
plan.

Sierra Delta was in chaos. After cleaning herself up as best she could,
Susan was furious. She made her way to the toilets and was even more
annoyed when she discovered the mirror in the toilet lay broken on the floor.
It looked like the plastic around the frame had melted. She snorted in disgust.
She had grabbed her bag and was determined to get changed in the toilet. As
she put on a fresh set of clothes, she went to grab her compact mirror to do
her makeup. As she unzipped the compartment and put her hand in, she was
presented with a gooey mess. The mirror was covered in its own plastic. ‘What
the hell is going on!’ she said, she was now livid. As she turned to open the
toilet door, the handle came off in her hand. ‘Right!’, she had had enough.

25
Susan started bashing on the door, ‘Let me out, you idiots!’ But her cries went
unheard amongst the rising sound of panic in the plane.
The no fly zone around the houses of parliament was strictly enforced,
but today this enforcement was relaxed by the arrival of an icon. Flying low
over London, crowds cheered and people pulled over in their cars scrabbling
around in their pockets for their mobile phones. Just to get a blurry pointless
picture. Why didn’t people just enjoy the moment instead of trying to record
everything? Surely it was the whole point of saying you were there in the first
place? Clive was struggling not to jump up and down with sheer joy as the
chaos ensued as Concorde roared overhead.

On board Concorde Lance was inconsolable. Lance was listening to his

mp3 player. He had grown tired of listening to the latest top 40 chart he had
torrented off the internet when the player inexplicably stopped. He swore he
had enough charge for twenty four hours and he’d only had it on for a couple
of hours. He pulled the player out of his pocket and he was presented with a
stick mess. As he tried to pull the earphones out to investigate further, the two
leads fell either side of him and the speakers remained in his ears. He started
panicking and shouting when he realised he couldn’t get them out.

Susan was now going ballistic too. She had sat down on the toilet in order
to take her shoe of and use it to bash on the door. Before she could raise her
arm, the window in the toilet began to rattle and the glass began to crack.
Susan slowly turned around in horror as the glass gave way and she let go of
the shoe she was holding only to watch it being sucked out of the gaping hole
in the plane. She jumped to floor terrified, instantly deafened by the escaping
air. The toilet door began to buckle.

The planes engines were erratic. Lights blinked on and off in the cabin.
The plane started to descend lower and lower. They needed to land and fast.
Captain Jim French tried to use the intercom to reassure the passengers, but it
would just make a clicking sound. Sounds of commotion could be heard from
the passengers.

The models were all screaming in unison. Their faces, hips and breasts
and lips began to change and melt on a molecular level. They began to
resemble zombies. As the plane approached Heathrow runaway, Emily knew it
was going to crash and burn. She began to prey for mother earth.

As Concorde approached the runway in near silence as its engines failed

completely, the passengers couldn’t strap themselves in. The interior of the
plane looked like it had completely melted. Just 400ft from the runway the
steering mechanism collapsed. People’s prayers were over-shadowed by the
screaming and sniffling of the passengers. Then as the ground came ever
closer, there fell an almost calm silence.

The news camera crews watched on the ground. This was GOLD.
Opportunities like this didn’t come often. The footage from this incident
would make Media Connections a fortune. What an unexpected bonus this
would prove to be.

26
 The plane slammed down hard on the runway and the passengers on
board were thrown into the seats in front of them. As the plane skidded
uncontrollably on the tarmac for what seemed like forever, its landing gear
crushed and massive wings damaged it came to a halt, right next to a group of
four budget airline planes.

Emily was alive. She held her breath. 50 passengers around her were now
dead. The virus was free, free to consume. Life would never be the same again
and Emily would walk away alive. As the fire engines and rescue crew raced
towards the plane. Emily studied the scene around her. She was trapped
between a mother and her son. As she was rescued, she looked back at the
crippled plane on the runway. News teams raced to the scene. The threats of
L.C.F were real, they would be heard. She knew that people would listen and
they must adapt to a new world. A world that wasn’t so reliant on plastic. As
the few remaining survivors departed the plane, something strange began to
happen. The sirens on the fire engines faltered and died. Drip, drip, drip,
Variant 14 was having a field day. All around the Virus spread. It was too late,
so many people, so little time to stop the spread. Before anyone knew what
was going on, all around planes internal parts started to melt and drop off.
The Army and Police were present and they sealed off the area, letting no-one
leave.
Emily knew that this wasn’t the end. Only she knew how many more
flights would bring what the press were now calling excitedly calling ‘THE
PLASTIC RAIN’.

PART EIGHT

Later that day, as Emily sat alone on the hospital ward, she felt a failure.
Her one saving thought was she had apparently gotten away with it. The
authorities had no idea who she was. She had to get up. She lay back on her
bed barely able to move. Just then she noticed a nurse approach and with a
needle and injected straight it into her drip. The nurse then put her hand over
Emily’s mouth. The needle had been full of air and Emily watched as the air
bubble worked its way quickly down into her vein. Then smack into her heart.

Emily was dead.

*****************************

Returning from his flight Adam answered his mobile. It was Ridge.
‘Ridge. They’ve sent me on a….’.
‘Just shut up and listen ok? I’ve just cleared with that M.P Sir Graham
that your OK. M.I.5 finally got a lock on whoever had hacked into Mainframe.
A Karl Womack. Mean anything to you?’
Adam thought for a moment before replying.
‘No. Should it?’
‘No. Nothing. A loner with large spells of unemployment, but just
possibly a computer genius. We’ve just heard that a woman, Emily was a
survivor of the plane crash that the virus was used on. She has been found
dead, murdered by an air bubble administered through her drip whilst in
hospital.

27
 It looks as though this Emily was the operative who accidently spread
Variant 14 on the plane. And guess what? You wouldn’t know her either.
Another loner who led a sad existence. No known lovers or friends. L.C.F
certainly knows how to pick them’.
‘Do you realize how many sad lonely people there are in the world?’
Adam looked around the airport. There were so many people standing
there lost and alone. Looking around waiting for… nothing? How many of
these were members of L.C.F?
‘Man is born to believe. And if no church comes forward with its title
deeds of truth, sustained by the sacred ages and by the convictions of
countless generations to guide him, he will find alters and idols in his own
heart and his own imagination.’
‘Benjamin Disraeli’. Ridge finished the quote and there remained an
awkward silence. ‘Maybe the threat of L.C.F was far greater than imagined.
‘The L.C.F must have an enormous underground internet presence’.
Adam muttered in awe at the concept.
‘We must find out how they are recruited, How soon till you get
Womack?’ said Ridge.
‘Any minute now hopefully’.

*****************************

Timmons led the teams as they crashed into Karl Womack’s flat. The
place stank of sweat and general lack of good personnel hygiene. Posters
donned the walls of old horror movies. The computer screen lit up the
bedroom. Sat in the chair with his head back was Karl. Dead. He had been
suffocated. Timmons stepped forward.
‘They have left nothing to chance. Search the place and get a forensic
team in here. Be careful’.
Timmons then suddenly noticed the back of the computer monitor had
begun to melt and the power cables were dripping on the floor. Suddenly the
monitor went off as the insulation to the power supply was gorged on by the
plastic eating virus and the bare cables touched each other.
‘Variant 14. It’s in here! Quickly get out! The virus is in here!’

*****************************

Clive Sellers was still one step ahead of M.I.5. Variant 14 was being
released and Clive could see no possible way that any government could stop it
in time. It was mere hours until the western world as people knew it would
collapse. He watched the six o clock news on the television screen and downed
the rest of his Vodka.

*****************************

Sir Graham sat in his office looking at a photo taken of him in South
Africa when he was a younger man. The world of the past seemed like such an
alien place. His heart and soul yearned for it. But he knew it was impossible.
Now the world was suffering. All his life he had wanted a better world.
Believed in the ecological issues. But he had been shunned and ignored. L.C.F
seemed like the only way to save the world. Which is why he joined them.

28
Maybe in 365 days from now the world will be closer to the world he yearned
for. He was tired of red tape too and no one would suspect him.
Sir Graham sat back and closed his eyes. He waited for the end of society
as he knew it.

PART NINE

Clive began what was to be, his final L.C.F Internet broadcast. With all
the media attention around the devastated towns and villages around the
country due to the rainfall carrying Variant 14, what better way to force the
information down their throats. He had the public in the palm of his hand. He
had their real attention now.

‘Plastic is a poison.

Worldwide plastic in various forms is dumped into the oceans of the

planet. Countless wildlife, from sea-lions, whales, birds and turtles ingest
this poison and die a painful death year after year. The world’s eco system is
suffering.
This Plastic poison will take up to 1000 years before it decomposes in
the environment. This is totally unacceptable. Plastic is buried in landfills or
thrown into the oceans and surrounding ecosystems.
But there is an answer. The process of polyethylene degradation can be
used on an industrial scale for the biodegradation of plastic. As a result, this
would save the lives of millions of wildlife species.
The development of a biotechnological approach to PE degradation
should be adopted and the reliance on oil and plastic reduced. The world
must change.

All over the world the press and the public read this. Adam knew these
words were true, there was no denying the fact. Despite their Machiavellian
behaviour of late, at the core of L.C.F there was a very real effort to change the
world, but at what cost? Would the world be a better place covered in melted
plastic?

*****************************

‘I have word back from Sir Graham. Doomwatch are attempting to create
an anti-virus’.
‘Clive. They will do it!’
‘Carly, Doomwatch will be too late. Anyway they’ve probably spread it
back to their mainframe when they found Karl dead, and I am already
planning a second wave of attacks.’
‘Did Karl have to die?’
‘Yes. He was operating out of control. We can’t afford to make mistakes’.
‘But he was useful’.
‘He had served his purpose!’ Clive looked at her. Could even Carly still be
trusted?

29
 Clive knew the endgame was fast approaching. He still wished that he
could involve Adam Quist. Sir Graham had provided the useful information
and of course had allowed Womack initial access to Mainframe.

*****************************

Ridge continued to read the report on his desk. It was not pleasant.
Variant 14 had begun to cause wide spread damage not only all over the UK,
but Europe also as the rain fell. Sometimes small the damage was small, credit
cards, stationary and a few toy shops and warehouses had their contents
turned into liquid paddling pools. Sometimes it was serious. People had died
when their replacement plastic body parts poisoned them.

Clive Sellers was still at large despite the widespread manhunt.

Adam then came through the door.
‘Some parts around the globe appear to be infected too?’
Ridge just looked at him and nodded.
‘Somehow, the bastards are spreading the virus all over. By the time we
have worked out an effective anti-virus the economy will be crippled. Damages
are estimated worldwide to be over seven billion. With the UK suffering the
brunt of the damage and most of the rainfall, not forgetting the loss of life’.
Ridge threw the report down on the table. Adam just looked at him.
‘Where do you think Seller’s would be?’ said Ridge.
‘He must know he can’t leave the country. So he’s still in the country
hiding. With Karl Womack dead and his computer melted there’s no leads
there either.’ said Adam.
‘Maybe Clive is here under our noses in London?’ Ridge speculated.
‘Makes sense. He would have to be involved in some sort of media outfit?
That way they could use it as a cover for their Internet activities. It would
require a large amount of resources. If only Womack’s computer wasn’t
damaged!’ Adam cried.
‘Well it’s no use now’.
‘Look Ridge the whole country, no several countries are searching the
globe, he’s the most wanted man. What makes you think we can find him?’
‘Because old boy, we’re a lot smarter then they are’.
Just then the phone rang. Adam answered it.
‘Hello, Adam Quist. Yes minister. Yes. I see. Thank you, minister’.
Adam put the phone down.
‘It seems the upper echelons of our good country are also blighted with
Variant 14. There’s been an outbreak in the House of Commons’.
‘What?’
‘Sir Nathaniel Graham’s office is infected’. Adam replied.
‘Sir Graham?’. Said Paul.
‘Oh yes, Sir Graham. I think Timmons should know that we might have
found our leak’.
Sir Graham was arrested less than twenty minutes later. Under the
circumstances, Timmons was allowed to use a certain degree of ‘pressure’.
Contravene to the human rights act Timmons threats of violence proved
unnecessary and Sir Graham’s own self doubt made him confess very quickly.
Crucially he confessed to the location of Clive Sellers.

30
 *****************************

The swat team got to the unassuming house as quickly as they could. But
as soon as they opened the door and stepped inside they were greeted with a
homemade incendiary device. The explosion was enormous, killing two
members of the team straight away.
At Doomwatch Paul took the call shortly after.
‘We’re back at bloody square one again!’ Adam shouted thumping the
desk in frustration.
Just then the phone went again. Adam answered. It was Clive Sellers.
Clive wanted to meet Adam.

PART TEN

Adam raced down the road to the hotel where Clive wanted to meet. His
mind was a maelstrom of thoughts. He remembered Ridge wanting to do the
‘decent’ thing and kill Sellers. However he knew that Ridge wasn’t a killer. It
would make him no different to the L.C.F. However, a man like Sellers could
never be stopped. He was the parochial mad dog. Arrest seemed the only way.
Adams blood chilled. He wondered how long the L.C.F had tapped into
mainframe and to the state of mind of Clive Sellers.

Adam arrived at the hotel and parked the car and then headed inside. At
the reception desk a rotund camp man greeted Adam and was told that a Mr
Sellers was indeed expecting him in room 319. The man then rang through to
tell Mr Sellers Adam was here.
Adam pushed the door to the room and found it open. He paused for a
moment, preparing himself and then went inside. Clive was sitting opposite,
he had shaved all his hair away and had begun to grow a beard.
‘Adam Quist. You have no idea how much this means to me.’
‘You know you’re the most wanted man in the country’.
‘Come now, I signed in under Arnold Sellers. I haven’t changed that
much, just another face in the crowd’.
Adam looked around the room. There wasn’t much, just a few clothes
and some books.
‘Tell me Adam have you come to put me in custody?’
Adam realised he didn’t know what he was here to do.
‘Why?’
‘Why? Why what Adam?’
‘All this. How many members of your own cause have you killed?
And for what?’
‘You couldn’t understand?’
‘Oh no I know the arguments. Some of them make good sense.
Eugenics due to over population. Our governments scared to tackle the
issue rather ignore it, unlike China where it’s dealt with’.
‘So you agree’
‘On paper yes. But when it comes to placing babies and foetus’s in bins
then I’m afraid it stops being palatable’.

31
 Outside a shadowy figure arrived. With a long coat and leather gloves he
made his way into the hotel. There was only a handful of staff in the lobby. The
camp man smiled but the figure pulled out a gun with a silencer and shot
them all. He then produced two petrol cans and began to pour them liberally
over the hotel.
‘You’re week Adam. Just like all the rest. Your a socialist. All very well
in practice isn’t it. I used to be like you until I realised it doesn’t work’.

In the lobby the figure lit a match and dropped it. Fire immediately
erupted. It reached the bar and all the alcohol exploded.
‘What was that?’ Adam queried. He opened the hotel room door and the
smoke was already on their floor.
‘Bloody hell the place is on fire!’ Adam screamed. Clive jumped up and
ran to the door.
‘You see? They act in the same way? Yet they’re justified’.
‘There’s no time for this!’ They ran down the corridor but the flames were
too strong. Clive reached for a fire extinguisher but Variant 14 had made the
plastic coil melt rendering it useless. Uncontrollably Clive giggled.
‘Come on! We need to find a way out!’
‘No. Not for me Quist. This is it. Don’t you see?’
Clive jumped up and walked towards the flames. He then turned to
Adam.
‘Res dura, et regni novitas me talia cogunt Moliri, et late fines custode
tueri’.

Clive then threw himself into the flames. He barely screamed as his flesh
began to melt. There was no time Adam doubled back to the hotel room. The
smoke was too strong. He tried to open the window but it would only go so far.
He then picked up the television and threw it out the window. Gasping at the
air Adam then threw himself out of the window.

*****************************

Ridge had hit the records hard. In his mind something was nagging him.
Something about Variant 14. Toby Wren was the one who Quist had assigned
to clear up Variant 14. Toby Wren was many things but he was certainly no
fool. He would have known the dangers if Variant 14 was ever to have been
released again. Then again this information would have been available in
Mainframe when the L.C.F tapped it. Wouldn’t it? Maybe Toby did have some
insurance that he never put in mainframe? Where would it be now? Family,
friends? Ridge paced erratically as his mind raced thinking about Toby. It
couldn’t be that obvious that it would still be in his file. Although, if you want
to hide a tree put it in a forest.

Ridge persuaded Timmons that he needed to see the archives. Ancient

dusty files were fetched from rusting filing cabinets. After over three hours of
searching through beurocratic red tape, Ridge found a yellowing file marked
Dungeness Failure Report : Tobias Wren. Ridge opened it and flicked
through. A big document full of Variant 14 data.

32
 As Ridge sifted through the paperwork he discovered one file with Toby's
unmistakable articulate handwriting.

'Since the disaster that befell the Dungeness test (see attached documents), I
have been working closely with Beeston on a chemical anti virus that will kill Variant
14 after the unsuccessful Dungeness test. So far, tests have been successful with a
formula codenamed TP4Q. It is water soluble and should an outbreak of Variant 14
occur it can be easily deployed to the affected areas. The chemical formula for TP4Q
is also attached for reference. I have contacted Beeston and they have confirmed they
have discontinued research on Variant 14 and the project has been permanently
shelved, so I am keeping all the research data at Doomwatch ready for Bradley to
transfer to his computer’ and in the margin (when he’s fixed it!).'Ridge laughed.

'Excellent, Well done Toby! Adam, take a look at this!'

'Fantastic!' said Adam as he read through the file.
'This means that should the L.C.F attempt to strike again we can be prepared
in literally hours. We must distribute this information immediately. I will fax
these documents through to our team and get this stuff mass produced as
quickly as we can. We have beaten Clive! Ridge, ensure that Whitehall is made
aware of this development.'
'Sure, it looks like Doomwatch has come up smell of roses this time!, It
certainly makes a change, I can tell you!’ said Ridge with a raised eyebrow.

Within hours TP4Q was being manufactured and distributed up and down the
country using a network of chemical firms on direct emergency powers
instructions from the government. Fire engines were deployed to any affected
areas and TP4Q was added to the water tanks as needed.

*****************************

Two weeks later, Adam sat in the waiting room at Doomwatch alone.
Lost in his thoughts. His arm was in a sling and he had cuts and abrasions all
over. Timmons then opened the door and beckoned him in. Adam slowly,
slightly limping followed him into the room.

‘Well, no doubt you’re keen to know what is going on Adam Quist?’

Adam looked at Timmons in the eyes.
‘To be honest I don’t’.
‘Well, where to begin? You’ll be pleased to hear the anti-virus has worked
its magic and Variant 14 hasn’t been spotted for over a week. Not just here but
worldwide’.
‘I’ve told my superiors about Doomwatch and your efforts and you’ll all
be receiving commendations for your efforts, and Doomwatch shall be a fully
funded permanent department.
I have also put your name forward as the leader’.
‘Thank you’.
‘Now there are a few other things. Sir Graham. He will somehow be
remaining in Parliament. He deeply regrets his actions and we’ve decided that
there is no need to cause him further embarrassment’.
Adam smiled at the devious nature of the government.
‘You decide that or your superiors?’

33
 Timmons just smiled.
‘It says in your report that Clive muttered something in Latin.
What did he say?’
‘Sadly I don’t know, my Latin is rather rusty these days’.
‘Oh. Nevermind. Thank you and good luck with Doomwatch’.
Adam shook Timmons hands and then headed to the door. He then
turned.
‘What now for the L.C.F?’
‘I think without Clive as a leader, they are finished’ said Adam
Adam then left Timmons office. He greeted Paul and Ridge in the
hallway.
‘How did it go?’ Paul enquired.
‘Ok. Doomwatch is back. We’re all on the ministers Christmas card list
and somehow Sir Graham walks away scot free’.
‘You’re joking?’ Paul queried.
‘Bloody champagne socialists’ muttered Ridge.
‘And I’m going to have a very large drink. Would you two care to join
me?’
‘I’ll grab my coat’ with that, Paul disappeared to find his coat.
‘Thank you Ridge’.
‘What for? I knew you’d be a natural’.
‘Can I offer you a job here?’
‘I’m afraid it takes it out of me a bit, not as spritely as I once was! I’m an
old man. This is a young man’s world now and I should really be enjoying my
retirement. You must take on Doomwatch and make a difference. You have
my number, but don’t call unless it’s an absolute emergency’.
Adam smiled as Paul returned.
‘Right lets get drunk’. Adam said as he and Paul headed off.

At Gatwick airport Carly had booked a plane to Switzerland. Under her

arm was her laptop. She was now running L.C.F and she was sure to make the
world pay one day. She would do it for Clive.

*****************************

At Dezak Oil, Des Marker was furious. He put the phone down and
buzzed for Sandra. 'Sandra, get me Mark Tucker on the phone and do it now!'
'Yes, Sir'. A minute later the internal phone rang. Des picked it up. ‘Tucker, I
have a little problem that needs taking care of.
Mortimer was about to be up to his neck in it, literally. Dave stood
behind Mortimer. Tucker threw his unconscious body into the large tank of oil
swirling below. 'One down, one to go!' Dave loved his job. His next job was a
trip to London. A certain Nathaniel Graham MP was about to disappear…

THE END

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