I walked over to him. “Captain Digby, I take it everything went as planned out there? Everything seems OK in here. Once we’ve got that big bugger Mike downstairs we’ll have a full house.”
He grinned. “Call me Diggers, all my friends do. Yes, it all went smoothly. The women did a fantastic job. They were all still drunk and didn’t have a clue what was happening until we had them secured, and by then it was too late for them to do anything.
Some of the women were a bit difficult to handle initially. A lot of them were screaming and hysterical, but the two who were helping you soon calmed them all down.”
“Yes, Mel and Louise,” I replied, looking round. “Where are they by the way? I just want to make sure they’re OK.”
Diggers nodded towards the main doors of the hotel, which were wide open. “I think they’re still outside.”
I turned and walked into the entrance hall just as Paul and three other soldiers were dragging a bellowing Mike down the stairs. He was fighting them every step of the way.
“Stop!” shouted Paul panting. “This is no good. We’ll have to hog tie him and carry him.” This was greeted by groans of disgust from the soldiers.
Ignoring them Paul said, “Get him on the floor now.”
Mike had his hands tied in front of him, but was being held by three hefty looking men while Paul held him from behind with his arm firmly around his neck. It would have been enough to secure a normal person.
He was standing on a half landing, fiercely resisting the attempts to get him to the floor. Without warning he hurled himself forward, straight down the final flight of stairs, taking his hapless guards with him. Instinctively, they all let go to try to save themselves.
He rolled to his feet and with an incredible show of strength, broke the rope tying his hands together. All this had taken place in a heartbeat. Massaging his wrists to get the feeling back, he took a good look round the room, trying to decide what to do next.
We all raised our weapons.
“Don’t shoot!”
Paul screamed the command, then bounded down the stairs and positioned himself between Mike and the only way out.
“Lower your weapons, everyone,” he said, his eyes never leaving Mike’s face, “it’s too crowded in here. No one else is getting hurt because of some low life piece of scum who thinks beating up women up makes him look hard. I’ve got news for you pal, real men don’t rape women.”
Mike reddened and shot him a look of cold, naked hatred.
“Yep – we’ve heard all about you, you sick bastard,” said Paul, quietly and deliberately. “Taking a fancy to young girls; bit of a pervert, aren’t you? Guess you’re not man enough to have a proper relationship?”
Looking around I could see what Paul was doing. He’d caused enough of a delay for every available soldier to move into position. Mike was surrounded. There was no way he was going to be able to fight everyone, but he was still big enough to hurt a lot of people before they managed to subdue him.
Slowly, calmly, Paul took a step towards him.
“Tell you what mate, if you want to prove how much of a man you are, why don’t you try and get past me? You’re going to die today anyway, so why not try and take me with you?”
A loud muttering started up, and a few of the men shouted in support of Paul. Then the room fell quiet again, and it was as if everyone had simultaneously held their breath. Mike scowled and took a good look round, then seemed to come to a decision.
He knew his fate. He was surrounded by heavily armed men. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to get away.
He let out a roar and ran at Paul, spreading his arms to try to grab him in a bear hug.
Paul was quicker. He waited till he was almost on him, then calmly ducked under his outstretched arms and tapped his ankle as he passed, tripping him up.
We all watched intently, drawn into this violent display of power and control.
Mike intended to kill Paul and Paul intended to make him suffer for what he had done.
As Mike fell heavily, we let out a roar of approval. Our man had outsmarted the enemy.
The room crackled with primeval excitement.
Mike let out a thundering roar and struggled to his feet. Twice more he ran at Paul and each time he was effortlessly tripped up. Each time, Paul goaded him into getting back up on his feet.
On his next and final charge, Mike attempted to anticipate Paul’s sidestep, and jinked away at the last second, hoping to catch him out. Paul was ready for him. He stepped in and kicked him hard in the groin.
Mike crumpled to the ground, his high-pitched screams filling the room.
Paul shouted to be heard, “Gag him and tie him up properly this time.”
We all cheered. Paul hadn’t even broken a sweat and he had bested one of the biggest men I’d ever seen.
It was the kind of fight that would be talked about around the fire for years to come, with bragging rights for anyone who could say they were actually there.
The excitement over, Mike was carried out, his screams muffled by a rag stuffed into his mouth, and dumped in the function room along with all the other prisoners. Paul, after extricating himself from a throng of well-wishers, joined me and Harry and we walked outside. Someone had thrown more wood on to the fire and we could see that the women had been drawn to it like a beacon of hope.
They all seemed to be finding the sudden change in their fortunes hard to grasp. Mel and Louise were talking to them all and offering words of hope and encouragement.
Mel noticed us approach and walked straight up to Paul. Standing awkwardly before him she said, “Thank you. I saw what you did to Mike.”
She took his watch off her wrist and handed it back to him. On the verge of tears, she turned and walked back to the other women.
Paul stood and stared at her.
Harry and I exchanged smiles. To break the silence, Harry chipped in, “Better go and get Great Grandpapa’s watch back I suppose,” and strolled off, whistling.
The women were understandably all very emotional, but there was joy too. There wasn’t much we could do apart from offer them some words of comfort and support, but as they seemed much more impressed by what Harry had to say, I gave in and stood to one side. A few minutes later, I felt a tug at my sleeve.
It was Penny.
“I know you told me to stay in the woods,” she said anxiously, “but I could see everything was OK so I came down. I hope you don’t mind?”
I smiled at her, “Not at all, young lady. It’s perfectly safe here now, so you’ve done the right thing,”
She flushed with pleasure at my approval.
The first light of dawn was appearing on the eastern horizon. It was going to be a sunny day by the look of it.
Regardless of the weather, we had some serious business to take care of today.
It was time to convene a court and put the prisoners on trial for their lives.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Now that the prisoners were properly secured and under guard, the mood relaxed.
The hotel kitchens were still in reasonable working order, thanks to a large propane tank in the grounds. In no time at all, a few of the soldiers had been detailed to kitchen duty. Soon mugs of tea were being handed out and unidentifiable food, concocted from whatever was available, was being cooked in large frying pans and distributed.
We were all so ravenous it tasted delicious anyway.
Harry had intervened and ordered the women out of the kitchen. They’d lived in horrendous conditions for months and been worked like slaves. Now it was their turn to sit down and be waited on. This simple act of kindness on Harry’s part led to a few of them breaking down in tears again, but they soon recovered enough to enjoy what was given to them.
Although everyone was exhausted after a night without sleep, the general mood was buoyant.
Radio calls had been made, passing on the news that the mission had been a success. Harry had even read out a short message o
f congratulation from the Queen; a novel experience for everyone.
For logistical reasons, the decision was taken to accommodate everyone overnight in the hotel.
A lot of details had to be agreed upon and arrangements needed to be made. There was very little of value at the hotel apart from an insignificant amount of food, which we quickly catalogued and sorted. The only weapons to speak of were shotguns, apart from a World War Two service revolver which had been found in Rick’s bedroom.
It was agreed that the shotguns and ammunition should be split between the two groups. Half would be kept by our community to add to our stores and half would be returned to the base for distribution as they saw fit.
The revolver mysteriously disappeared into someone’s rucksack.
I don’t know why, I just liked it.
As midday approached, the trial started.
The trial procedures we had developed had moved on over time, but one basic principle was still adhered to.
The senior officer present resided as judge, while a selection of others present acted as the jury.
No notes were taken and the defendant had one chance to answer the accusations the judge put to him, prior to the sentence being decided by a jury vote. A simple majority vote decided whether the defendant was innocent or guilty.
Life or death. A simple but tough choice.
If witnesses were available, they were given the opportunity to confirm or deny the accusations against the accused. If someone wished to defend the accused, they were given one chance to sway the jury.
It wasn’t a kangaroo court; it was simply the only workable solution we had been able to come up with in order to reach the right decision with limited resources.
Harry would reside as the judge and the jury would consist of twelve randomly selected soldiers.
I volunteered, along with all the women, to be called as witnesses.
One by one, the men who had followed Rick and caused so much suffering, were called forward to face the charges against them.
For most of them it was an easy decision for the jury to make.
The tearful testimony of one of the women, as she described the acts committed by the individual against her, was enough to condemn the man to death.
Pleas for clemency were granted only twice, when a woman spoke up to defend the individuals in question, describing some act of kindness that had saved her or someone else from unnecessary suffering.
Mike’s trial was the quickest of all.
Finally, the only people remaining to be dealt with were Rick and Lucy.
They both had to be dragged to stand trial and they refused to cooperate in any way. After the charges were read, I stood and gave an account of how he had killed Ian after stealing our community’s Land Rover all those months ago.
Further testimonies were given by quite a few of the women, Mel and Louise included, and these painted a grim picture of cruelty, domination and a selfish disregard for anyone except themselves.
When they were offered the chance to defend their actions, all they did was cry and plead for forgiveness. They offered no justifications for their actions. Finally, Harry ended the matter by declaring them guilty and they were given the death sentence.
The usual form of execution was by firing squad, but Harry gave the order for Rick, Lucy and Mike to be hanged for their crimes. No other sentence, he declared, could recompense for their vile and selfish actions.
The three of them were dragged away to await their fates.
As was the tradition, we all drew lots for firing squad duty.
I was one of the men elected.
This would be a first for me and I expected to be more nervous and apprehensive about it. Yes, I’d killed people in self-defence, but this would be the first time I had been asked to take the life of someone who was not an immediate threat to me or the people around me.
But I felt no sympathy for any of them. They had to die for what they had done. The liberal world of forgiveness and compassion had disappeared without trace, and been replaced by one in which every wrong action had to be punished.
The condemned men were lined up, five at time, facing ten of us.
Once I’d carried out my duty, I walked away and spent half an hour on my own. I noticed some of the others did the same.
Guilty or not guilty, it would have been wrong to feel nothing about taking their lives. That, I reasoned, was what set me apart from people like them.
As a suitable gallows had yet to be built, Rick, Lucy and Mike’s sentences would be carried out the following morning. It would also give the couple time to say goodbye to their children.
While we had no qualms about what was going to happen to their parents, Michael and Richard were a different matter. Their parents would die because of their actions, but essentially the children had done nothing wrong. And yet having your parents killed was about as big a punishment as you could get.
We couldn’t think of a solution. All the women agreed that the children had displayed vindictive behaviour. They had abused their position and enjoyed having “servants” to tend to them.
They had made a game out of inventing misdemeanours and reporting them to Mike, who could always be relied upon to administer swift and harsh punishment on the person who had fallen foul of them.
I was sure a psychologist could have found all sorts of reasons and excuses for their behaviour, but as far as I was concerned, they had been precocious, horrible little individuals before and having a father with so much power had done nothing to temper their dispositions since.
We asked the question, but understandably, none of the women would consider taking them on. I couldn’t blame them. They would be a constant reminder of a terrible period in their lives and they hadn’t exactly endeared themselves to anyone. For the same reason, I didn’t think it would be appropriate for them to return to the road with us.
Though not a satisfactory solution by any means, it was finally decided that they would be taken to the base and placed in the care of a foster family.
They would be monitored from time to time and hopefully they would grow up into the kind of men who would be an asset to the country, rather than another couple of bad apples who were likely to cause more trouble.
If they took the second path, that bridge would have to be crossed when we came to it.
In terms of the transport on site, the good news was that the six Land Rovers parked in the yard were all in good working order.
Our group was offered all of them, but we decided that three would be enough. We already had a few military vehicles permanently stationed at our compound and they were infrequently used. We told the people at the base to use them as they saw fit.
With Captain Digby and his men taking care of guard duty and sorting through and allocating any useful supplies and equipment from the hotel, we found ourselves with the luxury of a few hours off.
After returning and dismantling our OP in the woods, we took the time to talk to and get to know the women we had helped to rescue.
Although they were all still coming to terms with their sudden release, they were obviously elated at their good fortune.
We asked them where they would like to go and answered all their questions about the base and our compound to the best of our abilities.
I explained that there were regular trips between the two locations and therefore if it didn’t work out for them at one place, they could easily move to the other. About half of them said they would like to try life at our compound first, as they liked our description of the small friendly community we had created. The rest preferred the idea of being part of a far larger and better defended community.
So far, Mel had not indicated where she wanted to go, and watching from the sidelines, I noticed that she was constantly looking at Paul when she thought no one was looking.
Paul, for his part, had made several attempts to engage her in conversation, but so far, he’d had little success.
; As he was blind to the obvious, I took him by the elbow and led him away so that we could have a private chat.
Following my success with Allan and Michelle (well OK, that was partly down to Becky) I considered myself an expert on relationships. I’d said as much to Becky and to my annoyance she’d laughed so hard she couldn’t stand for five minutes.
Women, I concluded, lacked the depth of understanding we men have at times.
“Paul!” I said brightly, “what’s up? Oh no, let me guess. Mel’s avoiding you like the plague and you don’t know why?”
Looking slightly uncomfortable, he said, “Yes. I know what she’s been through and I don’t want to upset her, but I would like to get to know her better. She just won’t look at me.”
“Trust me,” I said, “she is! Every time you aren’t looking at her, she’s watching you. Try this for a theory: she’s had a bloody terrible time of it. You turn up – her knight in shining armour - sickeningly muscle bound and handsome,”
I added, just to make him squirm a bit. “She likes you, but knows that you know what she’s been through. She probably, and very wrongly, I might add, feels ashamed and not very good about herself because of it.”
I clapped him on his shoulder. “Now, my young apprentice, why don’t you march in there, and tell her it would be great if she chose to come and stay with us because you’d really love to get to know her better? Tell her you understand that she’ll need some time but you think she’s the most incredibly brave and beautiful woman you’ve ever met. That should do for starters!”
He looked at me and his handsome face lit up. He turned and walked back towards the crowd, craning his neck to look for Mel.
“Don’t thank me, it’s what I do!” I called to his retreating back.
A few minutes later I could see a tearful but smiling Mel and a beaming Paul chatting away.
I couldn’t wait to tell Becky about my latest triumph, I thought smugly.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
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