by Benson, Tom
“But—”
“I know you might not be comfortable with the idea, but sometimes we have to adapt our strategy. The prints I’ve found here lead straight along towards the boat so whoever it is, is still cautious when they leave the craft down there. They don’t go directly to their shelter.”
“Okay, what do I have to do?”
“First and foremost, be ready to shoot anyone who approaches. I will call out my name when I’m close like we did just now—okay?”
“Yes, and I’ll respond.”
“Good. Remember, if it isn’t me—shoot.” He paused, and she nodded. Flint explained the actions Amber had to carry out if he wasn’t back within his target time. “Now repeat it to me.”
“If you’re not back in one hour and thirty minutes, I have to call Sandy and tell him, ‘No show from Flint’. I go forward to the rowboat, put holes in it with my rifle and throw the oars over onto the other bank. I then have to get back to the kayak and get the f… get the hell out of here.”
Flint winked. “We’ll make a soldier out of you yet, girl.” He was pleased to see a smile, even if it was weak. “Synchronise watches.” He looked at hers and adjusted his by two minutes. He had to be right on the hour and at the same time. It wasn’t textbook, but it was practical under the circumstances. “One hour and thirty minutes … and there is one other thing. If you hear me shout the word ‘Go’, you carry out the same immediate actions.”
“Flint—”
“One hour and thirty minutes, Amber.” One minute later, he was at one with the woodland again and moving silently.
Flint could see that the rowboat had been carefully hidden. The users had been cautious in their route to their abode, so it might not be far away. Another aspect of this one-man phase was that he was able to move without worrying about Amber. For all the confidence he had in her, he wouldn’t risk her getting hurt.
He reached the edge of the woodland and pulled out the map. When oriented, he was confident of his location. Apart from marking where the stream might be swollen, Flint had made discreet marks of two sites he’d seen from the police station roof. One place was on the other side of the overgrown field which lay before him. The other seemed more likely, a building, possibly a ruin within a copse about a mile away.
At a gentle jog, Flint made it around the northern perimeter of the field rapidly. Within a short distance stood an old stone building with two apertures which had once held windows. A more massive hole to one side still boasted a door, although it hung at a precarious angle—one hinge holding. At first glance, it might appear to be a decent shelter until seen from a different angle. He caught a view of the six remaining rafters and one-third of the roof. Flint approached with stealth.
In a dark corner under the surviving section of the roof, a vixen lay on her side while two tiny balls of reddish-brown fluff suckled. The mother fox and her babies were oblivious to the man grinning at them from the window, and they were unaware of him as he crept around the small building to move on.
Thanks to Mother Nature taking over, it meant that almost every field in the area was overgrown with stalks of various vegetation reaching Flint’s height. He was able to move on rapidly towards his second target—the one in which he was more optimistic about finding his quarry.
As he arrived at the corner of two fields and within reach of the copse, there was no sign of the building, but he knew it was there. Whether it was habitable, or a ruin, had yet to be confirmed, but he was sure that if he were living rough here, it would be his choice. He had clear memories of the cave and pond booby-traps back near Auchcarn. Flint was particularly careful as he left the edge of the fields and entered the patch of woodland.
Once again, he felt a grudging respect for the person he believed he’d find here. From where the rowboat was moored right up until the edge of the copse he’d hardly picked up any sign which meant that the woman lived in a world of stealth and deception. She was as wild in her nature as the creatures around her.
No beaten path showed in the undergrowth, and when Flint was able to see a vaguely squared shape among the trees, he paid even more attention to each step he took. Innocent shrubs and bushes grew all around the area, but within such natural appearances lay the possibility of a snare, spike, pit or other deadly devices. Skirting around the building and leaving a respectable distance proved the way to go and on the eastern side was a natural break with fresh prints—small ones which led away. Flint followed the trail and within ten minutes was close to another part of the woodland perimeter. The sight before him gave him hope in at least one area. He turned and made his way back to the building.
Amber found herself blending into her surroundings and listening intently to the birdsong, insects, and the noises of tiny creatures scurrying around in the undergrowth. Among her sightings were a handsome cock pheasant with his rich plumage and an inquisitive badger who unusually was out foraging during daylight. She also saw a pair of red deer who wandered past nearby unaware of the human.
When a glance at her watch suggested that Flint had fifteen minutes in which to return it filled Amber with trepidation. She could make the call to Sandy, and she could no doubt sink the rowboat, but was she capable of leaving without Flint? Her sense of loyalty was much stronger than she had realised previously. Amber prepared herself mentally to complete the first parts of her briefing if it were a ‘no-show’, but she’d wait longer before going to the kayak. She would not leave him behind.
Amber whispered, “If the wrong person turns up—I will shoot.”
Five minutes remained, and the young woman looked from her surroundings to the radio, then the safety lever on the laser rifle. She had been told by Bill never to select a firing option until ready—no preparation time was needed. Amber’s thumb slid away from the lever, and she looked for the umpteenth time at Flint’s faint bootprints on the ground nearby.
Amber checked her watch. “Two minutes left … oh for f—”
“Flint.” It was just above a whisper.
“Amber, Amber,” she said with urgency as her friend appeared like a wraith from amongst the dense foliage nearby.
“Hey,” Flint said, as he knelt to face her and wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “Has the breeze being blowing in your face?” He spread his arms and embraced her briefly feeling a slight tremble in the intensity of her relief. He moved away and grinned. “That’s not a regular patrol activity so let’s not tell anyone about it.”
“Deal,” Amber said. She realised that as much as she wanted to be challenged, there would be an element of fear in certain situations. For her, loyalty came before obedience. She would not have deserted her teammate. “How did it go?”
“I’ll tell you what you need to know in a little while, but first I have to make a call, and then we’ll go for a walk so I can show you something.”
Amber handed over the radio and now from the force of habit started looking around the area.
“Hello, Eagle’s Nest this is Flint, over.”
“Eagle’s Nest, over.” Sandy’s voice was crystal clear, but quiet.
“Phase One complete. Sightseeing for one hour before Phase Two and then return, over.”
“Roger—report before leaving, over.”
“Roger, out.”
Flint nodded for Amber to follow him, and he headed into the woodland. When he reached the fields, Flint didn’t follow the same route as before but went wide by going left along the perimeter of the next two fields. For twenty minutes, he led Amber wherever there was sufficient concealment. They arrived at a high point which gave a panoramic view of the countryside for many miles to the north and east. Essentially, it was a landscape which was out of sight to the Aviemore side of the River Spey.
Abbey mimicked Flint when he lay flat on a grassy mound, under a bush. She brought her binoculars up to survey the area before them. “Oh, my good heavens.”
“From here, we’re looking across probably ten square miles of undulating count
ryside with all the growth we’d associate with nature having its own way. If you look closely at that mixed herd in the distance, you’ll see bison, alpaca, horses and beef cattle of all things.”
“It’s the strangest sight.”
“Think of it in terms of the Serengeti. The herbivores tend to wander together and don’t shun each other. They have pretty common eating and drinking habits, and they all look out for predators, so there is natural mutual support.”
“Will they move on, do you think?”
“Some of them might, but as long as there are grazing land and plenty of water, most of them will be content.” He pulled out his water bottle and offered it to Amber first.
“Thank you.” She took a long pull and handed it back. “When are you going to tell me about what you found on the reconnaissance?”
Flint took a sip of water and packed away his bottle. “I found the two people I expected might be living locally. You guys are right to believe that your two friends must have perished a long time ago.”
“But … Ronnie and Erika … the boat … Adventurer—”
“Amber, the person I saw in the ruined house is a female and a killer by nature. Her companion was hunting or fishing. Anyway, I observed the one I know, and I saw some of the primitive but effective weapons they use. If these people have been using the boat that your friends took when they left Aviemore, I would suggest that Ronnie and Erika must have travelled some distance. For whatever reason, they left their boat, and it was taken.”
“You don’t think they’d survive—we’ve all been able to—”
“Amber, I’ve just shown you herds of various animals. I know that where the River Spey leads there are some predators, but more than that, there are poisonous plants and water not suitable for drinking.”
“They weren’t really outdoor types, Flint—how long do you think they’d have lasted?”
“Probably days—a week at most.” He paused. “I think you and your other friends were right to grieve for Ronnie and Erika a long time ago. Now, you have to reconcile yourselves that they’re long beyond pain and suffering.”
Amber wiped away a tear for the second time in an hour. “What do we do now?”
“I want you to trust me and do something exceptional, which I think will help everyone in your farmhouse community.”
“Okay—if it helps everyone else, I’ll do it.”
As Flint explained, he occasionally paused to see Amber nodding slowly.
18. Relays and Reasoning
It was late afternoon by the time Flint and Amber had returned to the boat shed to be met by an escort of four people. The relief of seeing them back safely overrode thoughts of any immediate information about the mission. As a group of six, they strolled back from Aviemore to Eagle’s Nest Farm. On the way, a brief appearance was made by a group of stray dogs. A blast from a laser rifle into a nearby wooden post was enough to send the inquisitive canines in another direction.
At the evening briefing, Flint opened the proceedings by explaining where he and Amber had gone on their journey. He told everyone about the narrow stream they’d followed which had swollen like many other waterways.
“We saw the rowboat, Adventurer, tied off to a tree and camouflaged, so we knew we were in the right area. At a convenient and well-hidden spot farther up the channel, we pulled in, and I briefed Amber on her part of the task.” He explained that he had to go forward alone because the second person had to remain near the boat ready to deal with any escape attempt. He didn’t mention being free of any worries about Amber, but the topic was picked up.
Josh said, “What if someone got away and reached Amber on her own?”
Amber said, “I may have been alone, Josh, but I wasn’t in danger because if anyone other than Flint came through the undergrowth, I’d have shot them—no qualms.”
Josh reached out and took her hand. “I’m so proud of you.”
Flint said, “It took a while to track them, but I confirmed that the mystery people were the pair who left the Auchcarn area when we went into the forest to investigate them. They are shacked-up in a ruin within a woodland. It’s about four miles across country on the opposite side of the river to Aviemore.”
“Did you get to speak to one of them?” Quincy was too eager to wait for the offer of questions.
“The only person I got to speak to was Patsy, the serial killer who left our community several years ago. Her companion was out hunting or fishing because I saw tracks for one other person.
“Did you confront the Patsy woman about Ronnie and Erika?” Imogen said.
“Yes, I did,” Flint glanced at Sandy, who was watching and listening intently. “She said that the two teenagers were already dead when she took their boat.” That wasn’t a lie.
Helen, Emma, Imogen and Josh wept quietly. Glen and Quincy tried to keep a brave face, but both were compelled to wipe away a tear. Amber sat straight-faced, reinforcing the feeling that she’d dealt with any refreshed grief for their lost friends.
“What did you do with this … wild woman?” Glen said. “Did you shoot her?”
“No, mate,” Flint said, “I’m not an executioner but—”
“I wish I’d gone with you.” Glen’s grief turned rapidly to anger and thoughts of retribution. “I’d have shot her—I’d have shot her and her friend.”
“Killing people isn’t easy, Glen, no matter how much you might think it will solve things. Please, hear me out.” He looked around their expectant faces. “The woman whom some of us know as Patsy is not in the best physical condition. She’s now lame in one foot, so running is out of the question and walking is difficult. One hand is like a claw due to arthritis which affects her ability to use a bow and arrow—her preferred hunting weapon.”
Tracey said, “Are you saying that she’ll survive as long as her companion is around?”
“Yes, but from what I could make out, her companion has some issues too.” Again, Flint wasn’t lying. He was considering that Patsy’s companion was a six-year-old child who would spend at least the next few years living with and depending on her crazy mother. “What is more important is that neither of them presents a threat to you guys or anyone else for that matter.” He turned and nodded to Amber, whom he was confident would report as he’d asked. She’d supported his story so far by nodding occasionally but staying silent.
Amber sipped her tea. “Flint arrived back at our rendezvous, admittedly with very little time to spare.” She forced a brief smile at him. “He told me we had a job to do, and then he had a couple of things to show me.”
The only sound in the garden was breathing or mugs being placed on the picnic tables.
“The first thing we did was make our way to the rowboat,” Amber said. “I thought we intended to sink it, but Flint asked my opinion. I said that a determined pair of people would probably be able to salvage it and fix it up.”
“Not if you put a big enough hole in it,” Josh said.
Amber said, “First, we tore the gunwale from the boat to weaken—”
“Pardon my ignorance, I’ve never been into boats,” Archie said, “what’s the gunwale?”
“It’s the reinforced rim around the top edge of the main body. Once we’d done that, it was easy to damage the boat beyond repair with our rifles. We threw the parts into the water. Some small pieces floated downstream.”
A few heads nodded slowly in satisfaction.
“For good measure, Flint snapped both oars and threw them onto the far bank among the long grass and undergrowth. As a final message that they weren’t going to find the boat anywhere, we stuck the nameplate from the stern into the soft mud of the bank.”
Quincy said, “And then you came straight back?”
“No. Flint took me on a long walk north through woodland and fields to show me something quite remarkable. We saw a massive herd of animals grazing many miles away. It means that those two people might have been left alive, but they’ll be stranded on the other side o
f the River Spey. Flint took me close enough to the place in the woods to see where our hostile neighbours live. As he said, it’s about four miles across country from the river. They can hunt and fish, but they’re not going to be leaving to visit us or anyone else.”
Emma said, “Surely they could swim across the river or if they went far enough north or south they could find a place to cross?”
“No, they won’t.” Flint shook his head. “I’ve been up and down the river in a kayak. It would take a powerful person to swim against those currents. Anywhere within a mile of Aviemore, the river is too wide to attempt a crossing. When you go beyond that distance, the currents are even more dangerous. They have a large chunk of the Highlands if they stay north of the River Spey, and to reach Aviemore by land would mean a detour of fifty miles or more. They’re not coming here.”
“Okay,” Quincy said, “we think that these people are contained over there, but how can we be sure it will stay that way, and we’ll be safe?”
Sandy spoke up for the first time. “I can answer that one for you, Quincy.”
Everyone turned to look at the other soldier.
“From what Flint and Amber have told us, those two strangers are not capable of travelling far on foot, and they no longer have a boat. To ensure the safety of everyone here, I’ll keep an eye on our neighbours across the river. I’ll make a regular visit to that remote base where those people live.”
“You shouldn’t have to stay here, Sandy—we’ll be safe,” Imogen said. “We’ve got weapons now, and people who can use them.”
Sandy nodded. He half-turned briefly to smile at Helen before addressing the others. “On our walk around the farmland, this morning, Helen and I discussed all that we’d been through. We also discussed what we hoped for in the future.” He looked around as he addressed the others. “Our two communities will be working together to establish the relay installations at Dalwhinnie and Achallader as you all know. Some of our Auchcarn people have expressed an interest in a fresh start in Dalwhinnie. Once we’ve proved that the relays are working which shouldn’t take long, I’m moving here with my son, Peter.”
