Or without Bracken.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing what you can achieve for us in the future. Dismissed, Corporal.”
“Yes, Sir.”
When I leave the office, the assistant is waiting outside with Brigadier Lee.
“Corporal.” He sounds surprised to see me here.
“Sir.”
There’s a look of fury in his eyes as I walk past him to the corridor. It’s the look he gave me at Belmarsh, when he saw me use my access card.
I think about what Conrad said, about Franks manipulating Lee. Franks using me to remind Lee that he doesn’t know everything. That he’s not in charge.
He doesn’t know why I’m here. He has no idea what Franks wanted to talk to me about. And it’s making him angry.
Keep wondering, Sir.
I’m smiling as I walk away.
Games
BEX
I take my frustration to the firing range. There’s no point making a protest – I have to obey the rules, or they’ll take away my permission to stay in Scotland. If I break the rules, I might not be as lucky as Jake. I might end up in the cell next to Mum.
I concentrate on sending my bullets to the target. On hitting the same spot again and again. On staying calm, and developing my skills.
“That’s your best yet, Bex.” The instructor sounds impressed. The bullets have made one small hole, right in the centre of the chest.
I nod, and wait as she clips up the next silhouette.
“OK?” She puts her hand on my shoulder, and I realise I’ve been staring at my gun, waiting for her to leave. I’m furious, but I don’t want her to know. I don’t want her to send me away to calm down.
“Fine,” I say, and power up the rifle.
She nods, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Keep going.” She moves on to check on Dan.
I fire as fast as the gun will let me, every bullet hitting the same spot. My mind is clear. I’m not thinking about targets any more – I’m thinking about the skills I need. About visualising the firing range if I need to shoot. About staying this calm and this focused, even if I need to defend myself.
If someone points a gun at me, I want to see the paper silhouette in my head. I don’t want complications. I want to be able to shoot.
*****
“You guys are so good at this!” Amy shakes her head and unwraps her sandwich. “How do you hit the same place, every time?”
Dan’s targets are laid out on the table, and mine are rolled up next to my plate. Amy’s chatting, and Dan’s laughing, but I’m too angry to speak. I can’t believe we’re stuck here, locked up and controlled by Fiona and her committee.
Dan shrugs. “I’m a superior being, Amy. It’s time everyone understood that.”
Her balled-up cling film hits his cheek, and he grins.
“Don’t say things like that. You’ll give him a big head.” Charlie winks at Dan as she sits down next to him. She peers past him at the targets. “Those are pretty good, though.”
“Bex does it, too. I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong.”
I stare at the table, my fists clenched tight. I don’t want to shout at my friends.
“Yours are fine, Amy. Yours, and mine. We’re not sharpshooters like these two, but I think we can defend ourselves.”
Amy nods. “I guess.”
“Anyway. We’ve got driving practice this afternoon, and that’s your superpower, Miss Brown.” Dan gives Amy a mock bow, and she smiles.
“True. I won’t knock over a single traffic cone when we drive round the car park. Think you can manage that, bean-bag Dan?”
Dan groans. “Not that again! That was one time!”
“And I reckon the polystyrene balls are still all over the road.” Charlie winks at Amy, and they both laugh. Dan shakes his head.
And suddenly we’re all thinking about Newcastle again. About the safe house, and the shop workers, and the raid that could have been the end of our freedom. They eat in silence for a while.
“Bex?” I look up at Charlie. “You OK?” I shrug. “You haven’t said anything since breakfast. You’ve hardly said anything since last night. What’s up?”
I shrug again, every muscle tense. I don’t trust myself to speak.
Dan puts his sandwich down. “Come on, Bex.” He points at my targets. “You’ve just shot a pile of bad guys, and you’re enjoying another soggy OIE lunch. What could possibly be wrong?”
I can’t do this. I can’t do banter and laughter and pretending everything is fine.
I push my plate away, my sandwich half eaten.
“What’s the point?” I say, quietly. “Yesterday we were all big group hugs and hope and sticking together. Today? Jake might be going to the Netherlands, but the rest of us are stuck here. No army. No fighting. Just lessons and target practice and watching Ketty torture people we care about on PIN.”
Amy puts her hand on my arm, and I have to stop myself from pushing her away. “We’re training, Bex. We’re getting the skills we need to fight the bad guys.”
“You’re going to need this training when we march on London.” Dan lifts the end of my rolled-up targets, and drops them back on the table. “We’re going to need you, and that gun of yours.”
I feel sick. I feel helpless.
I give Dan a cold stare. “We’re not going to London, are we? They’re keeping us here. Neesh’s army is a couple of hundred people, and then there’s the four of us. That’s not enough.” My anger is fading. All I can feel is despair.
“We’ll get there, Bex.”
I look up, and I’m fighting back tears. “When, Charlie? When will we get there?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. But the army can’t stay in power forever. This has to change, sometime.”
I can’t sit here and listen to this.
“Mum doesn’t have forever. And neither does Margie.” My voice is a whisper, and tears spill onto my cheeks as I push my chair back and stand up. I’m brushing them away with the backs of my hands as I walk out of the dining room.
*****
Charlie tracks me down. I’m curled up on my bed, hugging my pillow. I’m supposed to be at driving practice, but I can’t face it. I can’t see the point. She knocks on the door, and keeps knocking and calling my name until I let her in.
I go back to bed, curling up round my pillow, and Charlie sits next to me.
“I thought we were past this, Bex,” she says. “I thought you were being brave again.”
I don’t want to talk to Charlie. I don’t want to hear her lecture me.
“Brave for what?”
“For you, Bex. For you.”
I roll my eyes. “There’s no point.”
Charlie puts her hand on my knee, and I feel myself tensing. I want her to go. I want her to leave me alone.
“There’s every point.” I look at her. “You’re here. That’s how it is for the moment. I know you don’t want to be here, but you’re safe, and you’ve got people looking out for you.”
It’s Charlie’s usual pep talk. I shrug. I don’t want to hear this again.
“I know you want to go and train with Neesh, but that’s not happening. You fought the OIE, and you lost. But you fought hard enough to save Jake, and you made them listen to you – even if the decision didn’t go your way. They know who they’re dealing with now.”
I know she’s trying to make me feel better, but I want to argue. I know how Gail sees me. How Fiona sees me.
“I’m just a face on a poster, to them.”
I want Charlie to fight back, but she nods in agreement. “You were, when you arrived. But you’ve changed all that. You’ve shown them who you are, and you’ve taught them to listen to you. They won’t ignore you again.”
“They’re ignoring what I want to do.”
“That’s true. But they’ve got their own agenda, Bex. I know Fiona feels bad about keeping you in Scotland, but she can’t ig
nore the fact that right now, you’re helping them by being here. Every day, the people in power in London have to wake up and remember that you’re still free. You’re still out here, and your face is still on the resistance posters, and they can’t get to you. That’s huge. That’s a weapon worth using.”
“I’m not a weapon!” I don’t mean to shout at Charlie, but I can’t help it. I’m sick of people seeing my poster when they look at me. “I’m a person, and I want the chance to fight.”
“You are fighting, Bex! You’re giving London a bloody nose every single day. They hate that you’re here. They hate that we’re all here.”
I shrug.
“And they’re taking it out on Mum.”
She squeezes my knee. “I know, Bex. I know. But the fact that they’re still putting your Mum on TV every night? That shows how angry they are. How much of a threat you are to their plans.”
I hug my pillow. I know she’s right, but that doesn’t make any of this fair.
“The OIE is playing a game, Bex. They’re showing London how much power they have, and London is trying to show them the same thing.”
I shake my head. “I’m not a playing piece.”
“You’re right. You’re not.” I stare at Charlie, waiting for her to explain. “You’re another player at the table.”
I blink. That’s not the answer I was expecting.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve already made moves in this game. You gave the government somewhere safe to send Jake, and you convinced them to save him. You’re a player, Bex. You’re making your own moves.”
I laugh. This is pointless.
“Why should I bother making moves if I can’t win?”
“You can win.” Charlie smiles. “You can win for yourself.”
“But …”
“Listen to me, Bex. This is important.” I nod. “You need to take the opportunities they’re offering you. Use Fiona’s guilt about keeping you here. Demand more from them.”
“But what about Mum?”
She shakes her head. “There are some things you can’t do at the moment. But what you can do? Make the most of what’s on offer here. Not because you have to, not because you need to be in education. Do it for yourself. Take advantage of everything, ask for more, and make sure you’re ready when the time comes to make the next move.”
“But Mum …”
Charlie sighs, her fingers gripping my knee.
“That’s not a move you can make right now. But keep your eyes open, and be ready. One day, you’ll have the chance.”
She’s not listening. She can’t see what I’m saying.
“What if it’s too late?”
“That’s not your fault. There’s nothing you can do.”
I feel as if she’s punched me.
I start to shout, but she cuts me off.
“It’s unfair. It’s horrible. I know. But you won’t change it by being angry. You won’t change it by lying here, either.”
I put my hands over my face. I hate that she’s right.
There are things I can do. Skills I can learn.
I need to train. I need to be ready to fight.
I close my eyes and take a breath.
“So I should be a good little schoolgirl, and go to my lessons, and stop complaining?”
She shakes her head. “You should be a smart game-player, Bex. Get everything you can from your opponents. At the moment, there’s nothing you can take from London. But from the OIE? You can take everything.” She counts on her fingers. “Take gun training. Take driving instruction. Take military theory. Take gym time and food and drink. Take their protection and their political knowledge.” I nod, and Charlie smiles. “Ask questions. Bug Gail and Fiona and find out what they’re doing.” She squeezes my knee again. “Get involved. Show them who you are.”
My stomach sinks. I know how this works.
“The Face of the Resistance. That’s all they see when they look at me.”
“So remind them that you’re not just the Face of the Resistance. Remind them that you’re the person who saved Jake. The person who got us out of the bunker. The person who went into Leominster and saw what the government was hiding. Remind them, and remind them, and remind them. Don’t let them forget.”
“So just keep bugging them?”
She nods, smiling. “Just keep bugging them. Don’t let them forget that you’re here. Take their training, and take their protection, and keep showing them who you are. You’ll always be the Face of the Resistance to them, and that makes you valuable, but you can make sure that’s not all you are. When the game changes, when everything lines up, make sure you’re ready to make your move.
“I know it’s hard, Bex, but this is your best bet. I know it seems hopeless, but this is how you help. This is how you fight back.”
I hate this, but she’s right. I’m not helping anyone by lying here and crying over the things I can’t do.
If I’m going to London, if I’m going to fight, I need to do everything I can, here and now.
I need to be ready.
I need to play the game.
Charlie sighs. “Listen, Bex.” I nod, still clutching my pillow, the stuffing bunched in my fists. “You have a choice to make. You can aim to survive, or you can aim to win.”
I look at her. This is a speech I haven’t heard before. I hold my breath and wait for her to continue.
“If you aim to survive, you’ll probably succeed. You’re smart. You’re still here, after all the running and hiding and fighting. You’ve kept yourself safe for this long.” She sits back, watching me. “But if that’s what you aim for, that’s all you’ll do.”
I don’t know what she’s trying to say.
“Survive?”
She nods. “You won’t learn or grow or build a life. You’ll just carry on waking up in the morning, and going to bed at night.” She smiles. “I think you want more than that.”
I sit up, and push my pillow back to the end of the bed. She’s right about this, too.
I don’t want captivity in Scotland to be my life. I want more.
I remember Mum, last time I saw her. Telling me to live, and not to wait until all this is over. To find happiness where I can.
I look down at my hands, uncurling my fists.
“So what do I do?”
“Aim to win, Bex. Aim to live.”
I think about Fiona. All the things she’s doing to keep the OIE safe. All the things I could learn. All the people I could fight for, if she’d let me.
Charlie puts her arm round my shoulders.
“I know this is hard,” she says, shaking her head. “But you know what? I know you can do it.” I nod, thinking about Mum. “And you know what else? We’re all here, cheering you on. You’ve got this, Bex, and we’ve got you. Don’t forget that.”
I rest my head on her shoulder. It’s hard, accepting that there are things I can’t change. But she’s right. I need to work on the things I can change. I need to work on Fiona, and take what I can from the OIE while we’re all stuck here.
I need to believe I can win.
“Thanks, Charlie.” My voice is a whisper, but the anger in my chest is gone.
She gives my shoulders a squeeze and drops her arm. “So, game-player. What’s your first move?”
I need to think of myself as a player at the table. I can’t let them push me to the sidelines. I need to use what Fiona and Gail are giving me.
I need to make sure I’m ready.
I shrug, and check my watch. “I think I have a car to drive.”
She smiles at me, and I can’t help smiling back. I’m taking what I can. I’m getting ready to fight.
“Well, go on then! What are you waiting for?”
I stand up, and walk to the door. Charlie follows, her hand on my shoulder.
It’s time to play the game.
Distraction
KETTY
The door opens as I’m finishing the morning�
�s paperwork.
“I’ve been thinking, Ketty.”
I look up. Conrad is standing in front of my desk, a distracting smile on his face. “We should go out. Party. Drinking. Dancing.”
I’m not in the mood, Corporal.
“You must be joking.” I turn back to my paperwork.
“Oh, come on, Ketty. You could use some fun.” He glances at Bracken’s door, and raises his eyebrows at me.
I fix him with a stare, then carry on writing.
“Come on. You need to get out of here. You need to do more than work.” He nods towards the door. “Get away from Bracken.”
I stop writing, pen in my hand. I think back over the last few days. What Bracken’s put me through.
I could use a night out, even if it’s just another excuse for Conrad to compete with me. I could use a night away from work.
I can’t help smiling. I can handle David, and I could use some time away from the same tiny rooms – here, my flat, Belmarsh. He’s right. I need to let my hair down.
Bring it on, Corporal. You might know more than me about what makes this place tick, but out there we’re equal.
I sit back in my chair, and shrug.
“OK. Sure.” He grins. “But no politics this time. No mysterious warnings. No cryptic messages.”
He steps back, hands held up in front of him. “No politics. Absolutely. Just you, me, and dancing on the tables.”
I can’t help laughing. I need an evening like that. I need to drink too much and dance on tables. I need posh-shabby-gorgeous eye candy, and an excuse to dress up. I need no expectations and no complications.
“Sure. Meet you at seven?”
“Seven,” he says, tapping both hands on the desk.
*****
I have time for a run after work. I set out along the river, enjoying the bite of the cold air on my skin. I try to let go of Bracken – of the filthy flat, and the violence of his reaction. He doesn’t define me, and I can’t let him control me. I run across Waterloo Bridge, watching the lights on the river, trying not to think of Jackson, and what he’d say to me.
Fighting Back (Battle Ground YA UK Dystopia Series Book 4) Page 11
