Quaranteam Project Red Ch 02

Thanks to CorruptingPower for permission to make my little contribution to the ever-growing world of Quaranteam, and thanks to the whole collective for their feedback on the writing, and keeping me on the straight and narrow when it comes to canon.

I hope you all like a slow and steady story. This isn't one of your fast-paced stories, full of action. It's about people, and people are complicated.

Thanks for all your support on the prologue and chapter 1. It means the world.

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Chapter 2: A Half-Expected Journey

Extracts from Veraxiontic UK Operations Report, 7th August 2020:

In addition to securing options on lab space for further satellite teams, collaboration with the UK government on securing suitable manufacturing facilities proceeds. Reports on this matter now filed under codename Gemini.

Project R.E.D. has secured the use of a holiday camp in Cumbria (northern England) for the trial phase of the operation. This had been earmarked for high-security UK government projects, having been closed due to UK 'lockdown' regulations. However, the government has agreed to defer their use of the site until the more sensitive phases of our operations are complete. Movement of personnel and equipment should start in the next two days; we hope to be able to draw on USAF assets from shared bases for logistical support.

Personnel negotiations continue, with...

* * * * *

14th August 2020, 10:00 a.m.

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Kat made sure they were up bright and early the next day, finishing up packing her laptop, their chargers and power banks, and everything else they couldn't pack earlier because they were still in use. She had stuck her head outside and checked the weather forecasts, and had chosen a fairly smart linen-blend midi skirt in a deep, rich green, with a white collared tunic that could pass for a blouse from enough of a distance—but didn't require her to fasten any buttons, saving her relying on Rob so much. She was fond of the skirt, the colour matching well with her eyes; it was also one of a very few she had that were smart, but that she could get on without help. The combination would have worked better when her hair had been long, but the messy locks of brown hair were at least easy to keep under control—or that gave the impression of it, in any case. The overall effect on her tall frame was striking; elegance was now beyond her, but if she was trying to make an impression, she liked to make one.

Rob had started dressing in his usual clothes, but she reminded him that they were going to be meeting actual people, and might want to make a good impression; he had then changed into a pair of black jeans and a royal blue Oxford shirt. She appreciated the effort, anyway, and his dirty blond hair, tied back—and properly brushed for once—completed the appearance of the young professional, even if he wasn't that young any more.

The years have been kinder to him, but then he hasn't been living with so much pain.

Once he was mostly awake, she set Rob to clearing out perishables from the fridge and tying up the rubbish bags to take down as she made a last check around the flat for anything they'd missed, hips more stiff and painful than usual, but she thought it was worth it for the treat for them both. She recovered her beret from where it had fallen, disregarded, the previous day.

She twirled it on her finger as she joined her husband in the kitchen.

"I've never understood your thing for hats," she said, inviting an explanation.

"Neither have I, exactly," he admitted. "Just, you know, cute lasses in cute hats. The right hat for the right woman. And you," he pointed out, bending to kiss her head, "are always the right woman for me."

"And chokers?"

"Hmm. It's sort of like a collar, but not quite. Collars are too in-your-face, but a choker still has a feeling of restraint about it."

"Well, I do

not

feel restrained when I'm wearing a choker around you."

"I noticed," he told her, lifting her chin to bring their lips together in a slow kiss, full of passion remembered and promised. Kat eventually broke away, reluctantly.

"We got a message," she said, pulling out her phone and waving it in the air. "Our ride is expecting to be here about 11:30, and they'll help us take our bags to the car. Full hazmat again, so we don't need to take any particular precautions. You've taken your cinnarizine?"

"Yeah, and I've got plenty with me. I think I might be up and about a lot for a while, so I'll probably need plenty if I'm going to be able to eat. Have a look in the fridge—I think everything that's left in there is stuff we want to bring with us, and I put the ice blocks in the freezer last night. We can bring a cool bag. I also made up some bags of home-made pasta sauce, chilli, stew and all that, with tags on. They're all at the top of the chest freezer; hopefully we can get the people doing pickup to grab those as well.

Kat had a look in the fridge, quickly approving the still-sealed cheese and sandwich meat, some fruit, some yogurt, butter, an unopened bottle of milk.

"Well," she observed, "I hope we're going to be able to get hold of other food once we're there. Dr Rossi said we could bring some perishables, so I assume we can at least get some bread."

"I did wonder," said Rob, pulling out a small holdall and opening the lid. Kat smiled to see that it contained a defrosting loaf of bread, with jam, tea, coffee, and sugar. "Just in case. Wouldn't want us to be too stuck if they haven't managed a bit of joined-up thinking."

They gathered up their bags around the flat door—three backpacks of varying sizes, two large, wheeled suitcases, and two fairly large holdalls—and loaded the cool bag and the holdall of food into Rob's rollator. Luggage arranged to their satisfaction, they made a last pass through the flat making sure everything that should be was turned off, windows closed, and so on, then Rob hauled the rubbish down to the bin room. When he returned, they each glanced at their phones—not quite eleven.

They sat down to wait.

* * *

When the entryphone buzzed, Rob rushed to it, impatience leading him to almost fall as he picked up the handset.

"Yeah, okay," Kat heard him say, the voice on the other end inaudible to her. "There's a lift, we're on the fifth floor. Buzzing you in now."

Kat got to her feet to join him, and they finished getting ready. Each put on a light jacket, Kat's taking something of its look from the style of a blazer, but more relaxed; Rob's was a simple sports jacket he had chosen, he said, largely to keep the wind off when it got breezy of an evening. They then picked up their handbags and shouldered some of the smaller bags they were bringing; the larger bags were left to whoever it was that was coming to help them.

Hearing the lift arrive, Kat pushed past her husband to look through the spy-hole in their door. She saw another hazmat-suited figure, though it seemed smaller than the lads who'd brought the packing materials. She stepped back to let Rob open the door.

"Hello there!" The voice from inside the suit was definitely feminine, and seemed more than a little posh. The woman leaned back slightly to give them a clear view into her face-plate, and Kat got a vague impression of red hair; glare from the room's lights made it hard to see more. "Before we start, I need you both to use these," she stated, holding out a pair of swabs in sealed containers. "Throat and nose, I'm sure you know the drill."

They did, although the hard plastic shells around the swabs weren't what they were used to. They opened the caps, and a brief investigation revealed how to extend the swab to reach the back of their mouths. They each swabbed their tonsils, Rob gagging slightly as he did, then blew their noses and repeated the process there. Kat's eyes were watering by the time she finished, and she felt the need to blow her nose again, but she retracted and re-capped the swab before returning it to the woman.

"Thank you both," she said, tucking the two cases into a pocket in her suit. "I'll also draw some blood from each of you once you're settled into the van. Now, what bags can I take? I'm hoping we can do this in one trip."

Realising that her suit would make it impossible to handle anything on her back, they each hefted one bag onto each of theirs and balanced the smallest on Rob's rollator. Kat took control of a suitcase, and pulled the smaller of the two holdalls to her shoulder. The suited redhead grabbed the remaining holdall and suitcase and, displaying surprising strength for her size, didn't bother using the wheels.

The three made their way down in the lift in slightly awkward silence. As the lift reached the ground floor, their visitor seemed to realise this.

"Sorry, I'm not being very friendly, am I? Once we're all loaded up, we'll be able to see each other properly, and we can make our introductions then. You'll see once we get everything sorted."

Stepping out of the building, they saw the 'van'. It was a minibus, showing some obvious signs of relatively hasty conversion. The rear doors revealed a folding ramp, although the suited figure made short enough work of loading without bothering to use it. Once it folded back into place, it formed an extra barrier against anything falling out. There was plenty of space for their bags, as at least one row of seating had been removed at the back.

The sliding door at the side also revealed that the front row of seats had also been removed, creating space for a partition behind the driver's seat with enough space for any bags or equipment the driver might need. The covering on the floor and ceiling of the compartment had been cut back around the partition, and welding marks were clearly visible where it attached to bodywork. Embedded in the metal framework of the partition, however, was a thick clear plastic, making it easy to see between the two compartments.

The passenger side of the front was also partitioned from the driver's seat, and an array of machinery had been installed in place of the passenger-side dash. Thick, sealed gloves were attached to holes in the partition between the driver's seat and the equipment area. There were also little chambers between each of the three sealed areas, allowing small items to be transferred. Clipped to the outside of the front passenger door was what looked like nothing so much as a normal shower head, with a hose leading into the engine compartment.

They've certainly been thorough. I imagine they've tested those seals to a fair-thee-well, as well.

Kat was impressed.

"In you go," their escort instructed. "For now, sit on separate benches, and get out whichever arm is better for taking blood." They did as they were told, each rolling up a loose sleeve. Blood draw kits were produced, and very shortly the two swab kits and two vacutainers of blood had been deposited in the transfer chamber between the rear compartment and the machinery. They were told they could now sit wherever they liked, and the sliding door was closed. They rearranged themselves into the front-most remaining bench seat, Rob's arm curled around Kat's shoulders.

Through the windows, they saw the figure unhitch the shower head and reach into the engine compartment. After a few seconds, a shower of some sort of liquid was produced, and the outside of the suit was thoroughly and systematically drenched. They lost sight as the figure passed around the back of the vehicle, until the driver's door opened and the hazmat suit was deposited behind the driver's seat in several pieces.

Their escort was revealed to be a trim, athletic, and somewhat pixieish woman with coppery red hair, blue eyes and small, dark freckles on her pale skin. The hair was contained in a tight bun at her nape, and she was wearing a short-sleeved, medically-styled white collared tunic with dark blue piping and dark blue scrub trousers. She clambered into the driver's seat, pulled the door closed behind her, and swung to sit sideways, facing the machinery compartment. She turned further towards them and smiled impishly.

"So, I know that you're Katherine and Robert Brook. Or is there something else you'd prefer that I call you?" Her voice was surprisingly clear; Kat glanced around, and noticed a speaker just below the plastic part of the partition. She assumed there was a microphone as well.

"I'm Kat, and this is Rob," Kat replied, surprising herself slightly at getting to the answer before Rob. She was beginning to get an odd feeling about this situation.

"Well, I'm Gillian Coles, and I'll be working closely with you both if you agree to take part in this study. I'm a physiotherapist, and I've done advanced training in several areas—including helping people with balance problems."

"That makes sense," commented Rob. "So, um, Ms Coles—Miss—Mrs?"

"Oh, just call me Gillian. I'm going to put those samples I took from you into these machines, set them running, and then we'll head off. We can get to know each other on the journey. By the time we get there, we'll have some results. If you're clean then everything will proceed as planned; if not—well, I'm told there's procedures we can follow."

"Nice setup, keeping everything separate in here; saves you driving in the moon suit," Rob noted with approval. "Is that a test for Covid? It seems a touch more complex than any other portable blood testing setup I've seen."

"Oh, it's very thorough. I'm sure someone will be glad to explain after the project briefing. Now, if you'll excuse me a minute, I'll just get these going and then we can toddle off."

Kat's eyes narrowed as she watched Gillian work, deftly handling the samples and equipment with the gloves attached to the partition. Things were starting to fall into place in her theories about the situation, and she wasn't sure if she liked them. It was time to try to find out a little more.

* * * * *

They moved off, Gillian weaving the minibus through the local streets to make their way out of town. Rob gazed out of the window, watching the familiar landmarks pass, wondering when he'd be back this way. The information from Dr Rossi had certainly been vague enough for him to be pretty uncertain.

The streets were quiet. Quieter than last time he'd been out, and that had been a couple of weeks ago. He considered the social implications, and the questions this raised—how much of the difference was fewer people out and about, and how much was fewer people full stop? How were people managing to get food, and other essential supplies?

As he mused, Kat and Gillian seemed to be having a chat.

"I don't know much about physio training," Kat was saying. "Does it take long?"

"I knew this was what I wanted to do, so I went straight from school. It's a degree, three years, same as most things. My school was disappointed, of course, they're more used to producing doctors than physios. My aunt didn't care."

"Your aunt?"

"I lived with her." The friendly cheer that Gillian exuded seemed to dry up at that point, and Rob turned to Kat to help her steer clear, but she seemed to have worked it out for herself.

"Oh, right. Why were your school bothered?"

"Oh, you know, fancy place. What did you do at uni?"

There have been smoother changes of subject, but Kat's used to worse from me.

As Kat described her original studies and aspirations—making the world a better place through sound policy and providing solid evidence, the naivete of which she had only realised later—they were clearing the edge of town, heading out towards the motorway.

"So, we're maybe going to be wherever we're going for a while," Kat noted. "Are you signed up to the same?"

"Yes. Well, if you decide not to stay they might decide they don't need me. We'll have to see."

"Is there anyone going to be missing you?" she asked; Rob thought he caught something odd about Kat's tone in that question, but he wasn't sure anyone who didn't know her would notice.

"Oh, no. Apart from being dragooned into scutwork an HCA could do, before things got too crazy at the hospitals. But before all this," her left hand came off the wheel and gesticulated vaguely, "well, I was working most of the time. Ever since I first qualified, I've kept up training for more skills. I just want to be able to do

everything

in my job, you know?"

Things got crazy at the hospitals, eh? That fits...

"You mean you've been in a dry spell since uni?"

"Well," Gillian conceded, a smile in her voice, "not exactly. But nothing ongoing, if you know what I mean. Some fun here and there." Rob was surprised to hear her giggle, though his eyelids were starting to droop. He dug his nails into his palm in an attempt to stay awake, but still missed part of the conversation.

He did notice when they joined the M6 northbound.

"Oh, I think I read some of those," said Gillian, answering a question that Rob had clearly missed. "I enjoyed them, but I couldn't tell you which ones they were."

"Well, if we're in the same place long enough, when we get more of our things delivered, you'd be welcome to borrow them."

"Personally, I'm more interested in films. There's some great classics that hardly anyone seems to talk about any more."

As they so often did when he was a car passenger, Rob's eyes closed beyond his ability to resist, and he dozed. Never fully waking, he drifted in and out, catching bits of the conversation as he lapsed between sleep and groggy half-wakefulness.

"A low bridge, careful of the dinosaur," he heard Kat say. Not long after, he heard both voices raised in unison, rhythmically intoning "won ton soup!" Both laughing like ten-year-olds.

An unknown time later, Kat putting on a strange accent. "When they find out who we are they'll let us out." Gillian's response, "when they find out who

you

are, they'll pad the cell."

"What cell?" Rob briefly roused enough to ask.

"Don't worry, love, we won't put you in the one with the leopard."

He dozed again, picking up only scattered pieces of conversation.

"Definitely a cat person," Gillian asserted. "Dogs are okay, but they get so

dependent

."

"...but once he caught my interest, his eyes were a big draw." That was Kat. "Then, well, when we got closer, I reckon his shoulders are to die for..."

"...in any case, I think I prefer hair to be either long or fairly short," opined Gillian, "nicer to play with that way. Either a lot of it to stroke and hold on to, or the sort of length you can ruffle."

"...I'm not sure if I've any preference for a long-term relationship. Not really had time for any. But I've certainly

enjoyed

time with both, if you see what I mean..."

"...I don't know if I could really have a relationship with someone who wasn't smart. Nothing against your average person, but I want real conversations, getting into stuff, and that's harder when there's a mismatch. Rob and I can talk about anything, and we can almost always keep up with each other."

"That's an interesting point. I hadn't really thought of that. Conversation hasn't really been a major factor in any of my... entanglements..."

"Until my hands got bad, I loved sewing, making things. I got into nalbinding when they started going, but eventually...

"...people at school rode. I quite like horses, at least in principle. Some friends managed to get me up on one a few times, and I suppose I can see some appeal."

"These days, I'm pretty much limited to watching them on TV. I wonder what will happen with the London International Horse Show this year. But when I had the money, I'd take what opportunities I could find. Rob's never ridden, though I think he enjoys watching the driving."