by Vance Huxley
4 – Out-Sneak the Sneaky
In Birmingham, Harry Corporal Miller, and the rest of Orchard Close, went to action stations for the night as they had every night since Caddi’s attack. Whoever survived in the Mansion had to be wondering what had actually happened to Orchard Close when Caddi attacked. Harold expected a messenger at the very least, to ask about the Orchard Close logos spray-painted on the new border near the line of bodies. Tension along the walls mounted when nine vehicles were spotted coming across the new border, with their engines idling. None of them showed lights and the cars were almost silent, not easy with a diesel engine.
Despite the stealth, the Orchard Close scouts posted next to the road couldn’t miss the intruders. They passed the news to a relay station using a newly-laid wire and simple click code. Rather than use the radio, which would alert the Hot Rods, an electric motorbike took the message the last mile to Orchard Close. The coded clicks gave the number of cars and their speed, but in the dark the scouts couldn’t count passengers.
When the convoy arrived, even knowing they were coming, the sentries barely heard them driving down the neutral road. The Hot Rods may as well have sounded the horns, because the depleted Riot Squad were ready behind their walls in both Orchard Close and the Annex, weapons loaded.
Since he had plenty of warning, Harold installed himself in his personal hidey-hole. The small window in an attic bedroom had been boarded over and painted black, but an eight-inch square of the boarding could be pulled out leaving just black mesh. With the trapdoor into the room closed to stop any light coming through, from outside the plywood still looked intact. Harold had one of these lookouts on each side of Orchard Close as a precaution, prepared after the sniper attack.
Now Harold lay behind the patch of mesh with an infra-red monocular and the Blaser hunting rifle. Small numbers of Hot Rods sneaking along the road might also mean sneaking through the rubble, and from here Harold could look down into the hollows in the gardens near the gate. The scope on the rifle would work well enough in the faint moonlight, once Harold knew where to aim. Once in position he pulled a patch down over his left eye, to preserve his night vision if the vehicle lights came on. Shooting with the ‘wrong’ eye would be more difficult but better than night-blind. He also had an eyepatch just below his right eye, to cover his shooting eye if he had any warning.
All the better Orchard Close shooters now used the same arrangement at night because security lights were set up on the perimeter houses. If Harold told them to, someone would turn on the lights for a few moments, then turn them off. The defenders would have their targets spotted, while the targets would be night-blind. Right now Harold ignored the men disembarking from the vehicles, because they were well covered. He swept the fields with his monocular, looking for a flanking party or… and there he was, a sneaky sniper, using the ruined trading house to keep hidden from the gate.
Not a truly, really, properly sneaky sniper, Harold decided, as the man moved too often and too quickly, relying too much on the lack of light. He’d be positioning himself to kill the Orchard Close sentries on the gates, though one man would never get all of them. When a wider search showed that he was on his own, realisation hit; the man was here to shoot Harold!
The Hot Rods all knew Harold usually negotiated with Caddi by standing on a box to look over the gate. The likes of Emmy, Patty, Alfie and Roy could take over if Harold died, but a gangster would expect some chaos and a struggle for supremacy. This new Hot Rod boss had decided to do what some people here had suggested as a greeting for Caddi. Shoot the rival boss and possibly his top fighters while negotiating, because then the gang might disintegrate.
Harold tapped his radio transmit without speaking, a short code on channel seven. Similar codes came back from the best three shooters. Patty and Emmy were in the two attic rooms covering the rest of Orchard Close, while Ru lay in an attic in the Annex. Now they all knew there were definitely snipers out there.
* * *
When not-too-sneaky stopped to inspect the gates through his sights, Harold slid backwards away from his peephole, switching from the infrared to the rifle scope. He carefully focussed on sneaky’s position. Whoever had come in the cars started calling out to the gate, asking to speak to him. It sounded like Mack, but right now the big man could wait. Harold swore, softly but very fluently, when the image in his scope sharpened to reveal the L129A1 Army rifle from Caddi’s wall. He would recognise that shape anywhere. Stones had thrown an identical rifle to Harold four years ago, back in Kuwait. If this bloke had been any good with it he’d have been a lot further away, and Harold might not have seen him in time. That Starlight scope beat the hell out of anything Orchard Close used.
The Army rifle left Harold with no options. The man had to die, without warning because Harold daren’t let him shoot. Sarge might have eased off a long way, but if an Army rifle fired near the Army post, artillery would bury Orchard Close in shells, or helicopters would drop napalm.
Harold tried to shut out his friends and the newcomers shouting back and forth. What were the idiots arguing about? He muttered, “One shot, don’t react,” into channel five, the channel his friends would be listening to. Harold’s breathing settled as he waited for the right moment, then carefully eased his finger back just a little more. He worked the bolt to load another round, still watching his target. There were a lot of yells from down the road, still sounding like Big Mack, but Harold’s attention stayed on the rifleman. Light flooded the road as the Army lit up the group near the gates, but Harold lay far enough back inside the attic for it not to matter. The Army rifle slipped slowly down and off to one side as the sniper’s blood cooled, and the man’s arms and body settled. Bullseye.
The soldiers were shouting from up on the bypass, so Harold used the radio again. “Casper, don’t shoot, but be ready because I just nailed a sniper. I recognise Big Mack’s voice, but Caddi said Mack refused to attack us so I’d rather talk before shooting. Tell Umeko where I am and ask her to join me, please. Tell her to leave the house lights turned off, to retain her night vision.”
The Asian girl rescued from the Geeks had qualified for a Mad Max rifle two months ago, and might earn one of those donated by Caddi. She wasn’t as good as the best but would hit anyone going to collect sneaky’s rifle. “Once she’s inside the house, use the loudspeaker to ask the soldiers to hold their fire, then put our floodlights on for thirty seconds.” Harold could hear someone down on the access road, shouting for nobody to shoot anything at anyone. That sounded like Big Mack again.
Harold dropped his patch over his shooting eye. The security lights came on, so he took a peek at the group on the road. There were only eight men, and the big one had to be Mack. When Umeko arrived, after the floodlights went off again, Harold made sure the rifle sights were still on the ex-sneaky. “This loophole is a secret, Umeko, so please don’t tell anyone else. Here, lie down with the rifle, and let me know if you can see a body through the sights. It’s pointed right at him at the moment, just to the right of the trading house, in the shadows.” After a few moments Umeko confirmed she’d got the target. “I have to go down there to negotiate. If anyone tries to get that Army rifle without me telling you it’s okay, shoot him as many times as necessary. Don’t get fancy. Gut-shoot whoever it is enough times to kill the idiot, before he has chance to pull the trigger and bring the Army in. There’s three rounds in the clip, then more here. I’ve seen you shoot. You’ll hit his body every time at this range.” When Harold left Umeko didn’t even glance up, keeping her eye firmly on the sights.
More shouting greeted Harold at the gate, the gist of it insisting Mack wanted to talk to Harry. Or ’Arry, Alfie confirmed with a grin. A dozen women had come out of the cars to join the gangsters, unarmed women as far as anyone could tell. The men all had machetes or maces but no firearms, not even pistols, while their crossbows weren’t loaded. Harold cupped his hands to be heard above the rest. “Come on up Mack. Nice and slow.” Mack left his mace and
belt back with the vehicles but brought a small woman wearing a sari with him, stopping when they could talk without shouting.
“Bloody ’ell ’Arry. I nearly, um, made a mess then. Wot you shootin’ at?”
“Your sneaky sniper. What idiot sent someone to fire an Army rifle near the Army post?”
“Wot? No! That, um, Bugatti, ’e ’ad the Army rifle. ’E was the rearguard, watchin’ the back like.” Mack sounded genuine, but he was rarely anything else. The big man turned back and shouted, “Oi, where’s Bugatti? Is ’e still back there?” The shouting back there as fainter voices answered told Harold the exact position of the rearguard. None of them were even close to Umeko’s sights.
A reply finally arrived, shouted up from the cars. “He went off to look at something. Said not to worry.”
Mack turned back. “Stupid bugger, um, sorry.” But the apology wasn’t to Harold, it was to the woman. “Oh, yes. ’Arry, I’d like you to meet my missus, Marge. Margaret to others really.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr.… ah, that would sound very silly. What should I call you?”
“Harold is just fine and it’s what most people call me. Pleased to meet you Margaret.”
“Marge is just fine as well, Harold. May we come in please, because we’re worried that someone might come after us?” Marge gave a short laugh. “My Albert said we’d be safer here. Oh. I suppose I must call him Mack here.”
The whole thing seemed surreal. Albert aka Big Mack had an Asian Marge who fitted comfortably under his armpit, and he apologised to her for swearing. Harold mentally shook himself back to reality. “I’m afraid they’ll all have to leave their weapons outside and be searched when they come in.”
“All of us?” Marge wasn’t keen on being searched.
“If you know Mercedes you’ll understand, though the ladies will be searched by other ladies.” Harold needed to brush up his manners if Marge would be coming to visit. “Deal, Mack?”
“Deal ’Arry. I suppose I’d better call yer ’Arold now. Can we chuck the stuff in that?” Mack pointed to Caddi’s Cadillac, parked to the side of the access road as a hint to any visitors. “In case someone’s follerin’ us?”
“Yes if you come up one at a time, or one man with one or two women, and keep the firearms where the Army can’t see them. They’re a bit twitchy and protective just now.” Mack ran back to pass the instructions without the Army hearing. As soon as he re-joined Marge the men began to come up the road, each with a woman as instructed. Several of the women used their coats to conceal the longer firearms.
Harold watched as the newcomers put their guns and ironmongery into the car, cautiously so the Army didn’t see anything illegal. Every man had brought a long gun and at least one pistol. He’d had a proper look at the Hot Rod vehicles now; they looked odd, so what was going on? Harold’s memory kept trying to nudge him about a couple of the smaller ones, something familiar. The fleet definitely weren’t gang cars, more the sort of thing some commuter would have driven, and none had any graffiti.
The last group were a man and two women carrying a still figure on a stretcher, which left three women by the cars. When he came closer Harold recognised the casualty as ET, with Spanky helping to carry him. “Can your Doc look at ET, please, ’Arry? Chevy come for Spanky an’ shot ET, but she ’ad a crossbow so she got ’im.” Harold didn’t need to answer Mack. Hands were already reaching to help or pointing the way to the hospital. It crossed Harold’s mind that Mack’s sort of invasion seemed to work better than Caddi’s.
The last three men, the rearguard, walked into the light with their long weapons behind them, out of sight of the Army. The three women went to greet them, joined by a young girl, maybe in her teens, who came out of the last car. The weapons were quickly hidden under coats before the couples brought them up to the SUV.
The last woman put a shotgun under her coat so the man could carry the girl up the road. “That’s Charger.” Fergie sounded puzzled. “But what’s with the lass? She’s too old to be his, born since the Crash.” Big Mack and Marge came in last, with Marge heading off to be searched by a bemused Tilly. Harold frisked Mack, quickly, but nothing turned up. When he picked up the carrier bag and looked inside, it was full of coupons!
“It’s yer winnings, ’Arry, um, ’Arold.”
“Call me Harry. Now everyone knows who I am, it doesn’t matter.” Harold just didn’t want anyone but Mercedes calling him ’Arold, it felt weird. “What winnings?”
“It’s true? Well bugg, ’ellfire ’Arry, ’ow come you did all this?” Mack waved at Orchard Close and chuckled. “If yer was a typist? Caddi were real mad when ’e found out, worse than about the blacksmith bein’ a woman. Oh, them’s the coupons fer the, um.” Mack stopped and glanced to where Marge was approaching. “The bettin’ on undies?”
“Disgusting idea. Why were you betting? I thought you were the one who didn’t, um, confirm?” Harold wondered who got the um from who; it was sort of cute. There again he’d never heard Mack nervous before or even slightly ruffled.
“I never did bet or confirm. I suppose Caddi could have put in a claim, and technically some of his men, but none of them survived. You do know about Caddi?” Harold braced himself for trouble, because Mack had always been Caddi’s personal bodyguard.
“I told ’im, if you go after those pair one’ll kill you. Told ’im I weren’t comin’ ’cos Marge needs me alive.” Mack shrugged, apparently not too worried about Caddi’s fate. “We ’ad a deal but ’e were a nasty one, were Caddi. I kept ’im safe and ’e made sure nobody bothered Marge. When ’e didn’t come back an’ nobody else did, I told ’em, they’ve killed ’im. Probably killed ’em all.” Mack put his arm around the little woman and Harold tried not to smile. “Then two of those, um, two of the ’ot Rods come and threatened my Marge, to make me ’elp them be the boss. I stopped ’em, permanent-like, then I thought mebbe, you know, she’d be safer ’ere?”
“Come on Mack, Marge, we need a drink and a proper talk.” Harold laughed as Mack smiled hopefully. “Yes, beer and maybe soup.” The rest of the strange collection were already going up the road, talking with their escorts as they did. Nobody swaggered or even spoke loudly, nothing that suggested gangsters. Almost every pair from the Mansion walked hand in hand or had their arms around each other, which was definitely strange. Harold needed to know who they were, especially if someone might be coming after them.
Now that he knew there weren’t more snipers, Harold called Patty, Ru and Emmy on the radio, telling them to abandon their attics. Ru took charge of the Demons in the Annex, while Patty and Emmy headed for Harold’s house to get up to date. Casper used the radio to warn “shooter in gatehouse two” that Matti and Jeremy would be out there. Umeko would talk the pair onto the body, so the Army rifle could be retrieved beneath a long coat.
Most of the Hot Rod group headed for the canteen, where the cooks always kept the soup hot for the night guards. Charger introduced the woman and the teenager as all three headed for Harold’s house with Mack and Marge. “Harold, this is my wife, Lily. My real wife, from pre-crash, and this is my daughter, Cherie. She’s twelve, a bit shy because she’s been almost housebound for three years.” Harold managed an awkward handshake with Lily as they walked, followed by a quick, nervous smile from Cherie.
* * *
When everyone had a drink and found a seat, Mack confirmed that everyone with him wanted to find a safe place. They’d all brought their wives or someone equivalent, someone they cared about. “It’s blooming chaos in there ’Arry. We ’ad to get out afore one of the wimmen got killed or, you know?”
“Is it still that bad? I expected you to maybe fight a bit first then sort out a new leader, but not chaos.” Harold correctly interpreted the eye signals from Tessa and Sharyn. “Maybe Fantas… Sarah should take Cherie upstairs, to meet Eddie, Wills and Daisy?” He shrugged an apology to Sarah, but she just rolled her eyes and beckoned to Cherie.
She’d barely gone from sight before M
arge commented. “Sarah seems happier. So where is the nasty little Kukur Chut?” Whatever the foreign words meant, Ru looked startled and Mack winced. When Harold told her Pete was dead Marge smiled happily. Tessa was present, quiet and stony-faced, so nobody explained the circumstances.
Charger filled the awkward silence, explaining what had happened at the Mansion. “I suppose you heard that your neighbours attacked what we’d taken from the Murphies, with every fighter they could scrape up. GOFS and Barbies together, that’s a vision from hell I can tell you! They tore through half of it by dinnertime, and now they’ve claimed even more and a big slice along the old border with the GOFS.” He looked resigned rather than upset. “If they’d fought over the spoils we might have had a chance, but the leaders divvied it up nice and neat. Not even cross words as far as we know. We, or they, the Hot Rods, haven’t got the men to take it back now.”
“How did they catch your lot out so badly? The men should have been on alert.” Harold was puzzled because that had been newly conquered territory, not the place to relax.
“Caddi had everyone on alert, though most of us didn’t know about the attack on this place. We all found out the next day but we didn’t know how it had turned out. Overnight a dozen rumours started. By morning they were being quoted as stone cold fact, with lots of different details but the main points all agreed. You and Mercedes had killed Caddi, Cooper and all the fighters, and were thinking of coming for the Mansion and the rest of us. I heard that you”—Charger looked over at Patty—“were swanning about in Cooper’s motor, looking like a pinup for Guns and Ammunition.”
Patty had just come in, carrying her Winchester, to report that Jeremy had the Army rifle. Now she smirked and patted the weapon. “That’ll be the Barbies. They were very impressed.”
“It might have been your new boyfriend.” Tessa might have been teasing, but Patty’s smile just widened.
