The newsreader returns, and introduces studio guests who want to talk about the arrest. They’re there to discuss what will happen to my mother now. Discuss her life, as if it’s just another political story. As if she doesn’t matter.
Dan steps over to the TV and turns it off.
I can’t breathe. I’m taking tiny, painful gasps of air, but I can’t seem to get enough. My vision is blurring, and the sofa seems to be falling backwards. Charlie wraps both arms around me, and I push my head into her shoulder. Amy strokes my hair and Dan kneels down in front of me and takes my hands.
No one speaks. There’s nothing to say.
We don’t move for a very long time.
Debrief
Ketty
“So where’s our missing recruit, Corporal?”
Lee lounges in one of the chairs in front of Bracken’s desk and watches me as I stand in the middle of the office. Bracken sits behind the desk, staring at the paperwork in front of him. It’s early, so he hasn’t had time to balance his whisky breakfast with coffee.
Thanks for the support, Sir.
“As far as I can see, your entire Nursing Home plan was a waste of time. Ellman got to see her father with no consequences. You let her slip through your fingers, and you cost us money, resources, and reputation while you did so.” I try to protest, but Lee holds up his hand. “I have not given you permission to speak, Corporal. I think it would be good for you to listen for a change.” He smirks at Bracken, who gives him a brief smile, but doesn’t look up at me.
Lee spreads his hands in an extravagant shrug.
“It seems to me that what you got out of this episode is one more prisoner. A prisoner who, as far as we can tell, knows nothing about the resistance and nothing about the terrorists. She might – might – know where Ellman was hiding while you were on your knees scrabbling around under her bed, but I fail to see the relevance of this information, now that we know Ellman left the premises during the fire alarm. I’m sure it fills you with great satisfaction, locking up a woman who needs round-the-clock care, just because she called half the firemen in Stockport to confuse you and your guards, but I have yet to see any real benefit from this whole affair.”
I wait for permission to respond, but he holds up his hand again.
“I haven’t finished. Corporal, can you explain to me why it took all those soldiers and vehicles and weapons specialists to bring one wheelchair-bound woman from Stockport to London? If all you wanted was Elizabeth Ellman, why not just walk in and take her? All you’d need is a car and your own two hands.”
I can feel the warmth rushing to my face as Lee details my failures. I stand up straight and stare at the wall above Bracken’s head while Lee takes my decisions apart.
“And how did Ellman get in and out so easily?”
It was hardly easy, Sir.
“It seems to me that she drove a vehicle she’s not licenced to drive,” he starts counting his accusations off on his fingers, “up to the door of the home. She blagged her way past your guards with a false ID card, waltzed through several sets of security doors, vanished into thin air and reappeared in her parents’ room. From there, she vanished again, and then walked out of the front doors, past the fire crews who were running in. Past your guards, past the nursing home staff, and past you – but you were too busy kidnapping her mother to notice. She walked out of the car park, and – correct me if I’m wrong – but that’s where we lost her. No one has any idea where she went next. Oh – and the car vanished, too. No one seems to know when that happened.
“Am I close, Corporal? Any of that ring any bells?”
My mouth is dry, and I’m focusing on slowing my breathing. I want to fight back. I want to explain, but I’m in enough trouble without disobeying a direct order.
“Corporal?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“So you’re happy to accept responsibility for the disasters of the last couple of days?”
That’s not fair.
“Sir, I …”
“Katrina Smith! You will answer the brigadier’s question!” Bracken brings his fist down on the desk, hard. Lee gives him an amused smile, then turns to look at me. I feel like a specimen under a microscope. I feel utterly exposed.
I clear my throat. “I’m not, Sir.”
Lee looks at me in mock surprise. “You’re not?”
“No, Sir.” I stare hard at the wall behind Bracken.
Lee spreads his hands again, in an invitation.
“Given the facts, perhaps you would be good enough to tell me why you don’t think that any of this is your responsibility?”
I take a moment to put my thoughts in order.
“Sir. If I could explain.” Lee nods. “The trap we set for Ellman was planned with your approval, and the approval of Colonel Bracken. I judged that Ellman’s father provided us with a temptation that Ellman would not be able to resist. I know Ellman, and I know how she thinks. And I was right.”
Lee sits back in his chair and watches me, faint amusement on his face.
“The decision to bring her mother back to London was taken in the moment when I realised we had lost track of Ellman. I had no plan to use her mother – I was hoping her father’s condition would be enough to put her into our hands. But the opportunity presented itself, and I realised that Mrs Ellman is a weapon we can use against her daughter. A weapon we can continue to use for as long as we need to. While we have Elizabeth, Bex will be living in fear. Any move she might be planning to make against us will be tamed, in case we punish her mother for her actions. Any direct action the terrorists decide to take will be with the knowledge that Mrs Ellman could be harmed.”
I’m warming to my subject now. I’m beginning to think that this could work.
“And all we need to make this happen is one cell, time in the interrogation room, and a slot on PIN whenever we need it. I guarantee you that, if Ellman and her friends weren’t watching every minute of PIN news coverage before today, they’ll be glued to the screen after today. It’s the only way for Ellman to know whether her mother is still alive.
“We’ve got her, Sir – Ellman, and her friends. We haven’t caught them, but I think we can control them.”
And it will be my very great pleasure to take responsibility for that, Sir.
Lee doesn’t move. He keeps his eyes fixed on my face, waiting for me to say something more. To say too much. Then he starts to clap, slowly. I can feel my cheeks flaming as he mocks my defence. I keep my gaze fixed on the wall.
“Very good, Corporal. Very good.” The clapping stops. “Don’t you think?” He turns to Bracken.
The Colonel nods. “It’s an interesting suggestion.”
Lee turns to me and grins. “It is. It is.” He pauses, and looks down at his hands.
“OK, Corporal. I’ll give you this assignment. Manage Ellman by putting her mother on TV. Monitor the terrorist chatter, and use Elizabeth to keep the resistance in line. The goal is still to bring in our missing recruits, but while we don’t know where they are, this is the next best thing.”
I have to focus on standing up straight. The sense of relief is making my knee shake.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“And to make sure you’re up to speed on everything that happened at Orchard House, I’ll have the CCTV sent down for you to look at. See if you can spot your missing recruit – or anything else that might be useful.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Dismissed, Corporal.”
As I turn to leave the room, I try to catch Bracken’s gaze, but his eyes are fixed on the desk in front of him.
Thanks for all your help there, Sir.
*****
Back at my desk, I make the call to the hospital. No change. Jackson is fighting the infection, but he’s still hooked up to the machines. He still hasn’t woken up.
Jackson, where are you when I need you? I could use some friendly respect right now. I want to tell you what happened. I want you to be impressed. I wan
t you to be the one mocking me – not Lee, not Conrad, and not Bracken. I want you back.
Dangerous
Bex
I’m sitting at the table with Amy when Caroline and Neesh arrive. It’s early, but we’re all awake. We threw all the mattresses together on the living room floor last night, and Amy and Charlie slept next to me, stroking my hair and comforting me when I woke up screaming, time after time.
There’s a mug of tea in front of me, and I’m drinking it slowly. I can’t think about eating. Charlie opens the front door and shouts down the corridor for Dan and Jake to join us.
Caroline sits down opposite me, without looking at me. She concentrates on pulling sheets of paper out of her handbag and stacking them on the table.
“Well,” she says, when everyone is crowded into the kitchen. “Does anyone want to explain what I saw on PIN last night?” Her voice is cold, and there’s anger in her eyes. She still hasn’t looked at me.
When no one speaks, she starts turning over sheets of paper and arranging them on the table. Printouts of CCTV footage, from the nursing home.
Me. Neesh. Ketty. Mum. Soldiers and nurses. A car park full of people and fire crews.
“How did you …?” Charlie begins, but Caroline holds up her hand.
“That’s hardly important. What is important is that these images exist. If we have them, you can be sure that the government has them.” She looks round the table, still avoiding my eyes.
“As far as I can piece together, your cosy little group took an unscheduled field trip two days ago. You went to Stockport, you infiltrated a nursing home that was surrounded by government guards, and you engineered a fire alarm to get yourselves out again.” She stops, and takes a deep breath, her voice spitting with anger. “And the first I hear about it, the first clue I have that you’ve been making decisions behind my back, is a report on the evening news.”
Jake starts to protest, but Caroline cuts him off. “I don’t care which of you was there, and which of you was here. I don’t care who knew about this, and who didn’t. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all guilty, and more importantly, you’re all in danger.”
“We took every precaution, Caroline.” Charlie sounds apologetic. “We knew it would be dangerous, but we couldn’t let Bex go alone.”
Caroline turns towards her, her anger barely controlled. “My question, Charlie, is why did you let Bex go at all?”
“Come on, Caroline. You saw the news appeal.”
“I did. And I also saw that it was a blatant attempt to lure a member of this group into custody. I assumed that you did, too. I assumed that all of you had more sense than to run head-first into a government trap.”
Neesh shakes her head. “It wasn’t like that. Bex’s father really is seriously ill. We just wanted …”
“I don’t care what you wanted!” Caroline slaps her hand onto the table, shouting, looking round at all of us. “I don’t care what PIN bribes you with. You do not leave this flat. Do you understand?”
She’s talking about me, as if I’m not here. She’s talking about Dad as if he isn’t real. About Mum, as if she’s just a face on a screen. The heavy, black feeling comes back, and I have to put my elbows on the table and rest my head in my hands.
“We got away with it, Caroline.” Neesh holds out one hand in a pleading gesture.
“Did you?”
“Bex got herself in and out.”
“Without her ID card, or so PIN informs me.”
Neesh bows her head. “Bex is safe. We got her back here.”
“Oh? And which car did you use?”
Neesh looks surprised. “I borrowed it.”
“From who? From someone who lives round here? From someone who could lead the soldiers right to our door?” She stabs one of the CCTV images with her manicured finger. “That car?”
Neesh looks at the image, and nods, her shoulders slumping.
Caroline takes a deep breath. No one else moves.
“Right. Well. Never mind who did what.” She starts gathering up the images from the table. “I need you all to go and pack.”
She wants us out of here. Out of the safe house. I sit up straight and look at her. “You’re throwing us out?”
She looks directly at me for the first time, and I notice that her hands are shaking. “I should be throwing you out. You’ve put all our lives at risk. You’ve put Neesh’s business at risk. You’ve put the entire safe house network at risk. I should be dumping you in a field somewhere with bullets in your heads and letting the government take you off my hands.”
I can feel myself starting to panic. We’re safe here. We’re protected. We’re hidden. I can’t believe that this safety is ending.
“You can’t …” Dan sounds indignant as Caroline speaks over him.
“I can. This is my safe house, and my network. I’m protecting you, and the people who came with you from the bunker, and two more flats full of people who want to help the resistance. Your actions,” she looks at me again. “Your stupid decisions – they put everyone at risk. All the people I’m keeping safe. Not just you. Not just Bex. Everyone.”
My hands are shaking. I clasp them together on the table and try to control the panic.
“Where are you sending us?” Charlie’s voice is calm.
Caroline pushes the pile of paper back into her bag and places it carefully on the floor before she answers. She looks around the table again.
“Edinburgh. The OIE wants you across the border and away from anyone who might be tracking you.”
Relief hits me in a wave. I slump back in my chair, gripping the edge of the table with my fingers. I close my eyes and take deep, calming breaths. We’re safe. We’re still safe.
And we’re on the run again.
“I need you all packed and ready to leave by …” she consults her watch, “… twelve. No later. We’ll take you in two groups. One rucksack each. Nothing that could connect you to here, to the shop, or to me or Neesh.”
*****
I’m stuffing clothes into my rucksack. I don’t have a lot of things to take with me, but we’ve all been provided with jeans, T-shirts and fleeces from the local charity shops, and I’m struggling to fit them all in. We’re not carrying armour or guns – we handed those over to the cell when we arrived – but the extra clothes are filling my bag. The frustration is keeping me from thinking about what I’ve done.
I concentrate on packing. I reach up onto the bed for the next handful, and my fingers close round the pile of letters from Mum. This is everything. When these are in the bag, I’m packed. I’m ready to walk out and keep running.
I check the time. I’ve still got a few minutes before Caroline comes back for us. I pick up the letters and pull one out from the pile at random, pushing the others into the bag. I tear the envelope open and pull out a thin sheet of paper, covered with Mum’s neat handwriting. I sit down on the floor, my back against the bed, and read.
My darling Bex,
We’ve been so worried. All the letters I’ve written since the start of term have been returned to me. Has the Recruit Training Service taken you away from school? Rushmere won’t tell us anything – only that you’re not in residence, and not expected back any time soon. I’m going to keep writing, and keep hoping that my letters make it to you.
I’m so sorry. I thought we could protect you. I thought we could make your life better, by sending you to Rushmere. I thought you’d have a chance to study and make friends and live a life that was about you, not about me and Dad.
Bex, wherever you are, I want you to know that we love you. You’re our hero. You’re our helper and our sunshine. Don’t give up. This fighting can’t go on forever, and when it’s over you need to be ready to pick up your life and make it yours again. Don’t let them define you. Don’t let them change who you are.
We love you, Bex, and we’re thinking of you. Wherever you go, and whatever happens, we’ll be thinking about you. Be strong, beautiful girl.
&n
bsp; Love, always,
Mum.
I read the letter over and over. I force myself to think about where Mum is now. What’s happening to her. How my actions, and my mistakes, put her there.
The letter is smudged with tears when Charlie comes to the door.
“Ready to go?”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and put the letter back in its envelope, and back into the pile in my bag.
“Yeah.”
I stand up and pull the rucksack onto my shoulders, my hands shaking. I pause in the doorway and look back at the tiny room. Another place I’ve almost felt safe, and another place I have to leave. My fault, this time. I’m not the hero of this story – I’m the reason we have to move on. I screwed this up.
“I’m sorry,” I say to the empty room, when Charlie is out of earshot. “I’m so, so sorry.”
And I’m not sure who I’m talking to.
Location
Ketty
The CCTV footage arrives at ten. Lee sends me a flash drive that I can plug into the screen in Bracken’s office, but he also sends a folder of still images that someone on the Terrorism Committee has already pulled from the footage.
I start with the stills.
Ellman, walking up to the door in her laughable disguise. My guards, letting her through. There’s a shot of me walking out with Elizabeth, and several shots of the evacuation. Nothing useful.
Bracken waves me into his office, and I pull one of the chairs over to the screen.
“Anything interesting yet?”
“Not yet, Sir. I’m hoping the film will show me more than the stills.”
Reviewing the film takes hours. There are ten different cameras, and at least forty minutes of footage from each location. I sit in the chair with a notebook on my knee, pausing the footage where it might show something interesting. Bracken leaves the room to fetch drinks for both of us while I stare at the images until my eyes start to hurt.
The Battle Ground Series: Books 1-3 Page 51
