“Wait – you’re not feeling sorry for him, are you? Whipping boy, remember?”
“He tried really hard …”
“And he’s still useless. And not yet in the hospital, I can’t help noticing.”
“Also true.”
“Iron fists, steel toe caps.”
“Yeah.”
But he looks as if I’ve just tried to shoot his favourite puppy.
Come on, Jackson – I need you. We need to work together on these kids.
*****
It took three weeks to attract Commander Bracken’s attention. Three weeks of being the first in line for breakfast every morning, the first in line for every activity, and the first to volunteer at the briefings. Consistently being the fastest female recruit on the morning run and the assault course helped, too.
He called me to his office after dinner, while everyone else was playing cards and chilling out. My file was open on his desk, and he invited me to sit down.
“Katrina Smith,” he began, and I couldn’t help correcting him.
“It’s Ketty, Sir.”
He raised his eyebrows at the interruption.
“Ketty?”
“No one’s ever called me Katrina, Sir. It’s always been Ketty. Sir.”
I knew that wasn’t true, but the commander didn’t need to know. Dad said that Mum used to call me Kat, before she left, but I don’t remember that. I don’t remember her. Dad said that Ketty is what I called myself, before I could say ‘Katrina’. As far as I could remember, I’d always been Ketty.
He made a note on the file. I hoped I hadn’t messed up whatever good impression he had of me. I needed him to notice my abilities. I needed him to be my ticket out of here.
“You’ve made an impression here, Ketty.”
“I hope so, Sir.”
He looked at me, inspecting my face, as if he hadn’t expected a reply. He paused, then consulted the file again.
“Your fitness is excellent. Your enthusiasm is excellent. You’ve never been late, never unprepared. Your uniform is always neat and clean. You always take part in the briefings.” He looked up. “You are an excellent recruit.”
I tried to hide my smile.
“How do you see yourself progressing through our training programme? What do you want to achieve?”
I paused, surprised by the question.
“I want a career, Sir.” I said, eventually. “I want to be the best, and I want to be promoted. I’m willing to work hard, and do what I need to do.”
“So do you want us to put you through some courses? Get you some qualifications?”
I thought about it, and shook my head.
“Only if I need the qualification to do my job. I’m not interested in certificates. I’m not interested in studying unless it’s something I need to know. I want to be out there, getting good at the job. Working hard.”
He nodded, as if he’d been expecting me to say that, then picked up a pen and made a note in my file.
“We’ll start with the Emergency Response course, and some vehicle training. Driving skills are always useful.”
Then he put the pen down and leaned forward, elbows on the desk, hands clasped in front of him.
“I have a proposal for you.
“I need an assistant. Not an official assistant, like Woods. I need someone on the inside of camp life. Someone who can keep an eye on the other recruits for me. Solve problems before they reach my office. Keep everyone in line, without me having to bring rank into the equation.
“Think you can do that?”
I tried to bring the excitement in my voice under control.
“What exactly are you expecting me to do, Sir?”
He waved his hand.
“Whatever you think will work. You know these recruits. You’ve been training with them from day one. Just keep them in line. Make sure they know it’s in their interests to do as they’re told. Stop issues from turning into problems that I’ll need to deal with.”
I nodded. “I think I can do that, Sir.”
He smiled.
“I think you can, too. I gather you taught Jackson a lesson on your first night here. That’s the sort of situation management we need.”
I stared at him, wondering how he knew about my encounter with Jackson. I almost forgot to nod.
“Just – not so many black eyes from now on. Okay? Keep it subtle, keep it low-key, and keep teenage antics out of my office.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I waited to be dismissed, but he looked at me, appraisingly, for an uncomfortable moment.
“You’ve got discipline, Ketty. You’ve got determination. I think you understand what we’re doing here. Show me that you can do this, and I’ll make sure it is worth the trouble.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Dismissed.”
And I walked out of his office, glowing with pride. Of all the recruits, he’d chosen me. He’d noticed me. I wasn’t going to let him down.
JULY
Lessons
We’ve been training the hopeless puppies in their armour for weeks. They can run in armour now, and most of them can get their guns in and out of their clips when they need to.
It’s my week to lead the morning run, so we set out across the bypass and the railway, and take the route through town to show off the kids to the citizens of Leominster. Hopefully they’re telling their friends about the wonderful, brave young people stationed in their town.
It’s a gorgeous morning, sunshine with the occasional bright cloud, and we’re making good time. I stop the traffic when we cross the bypass again to come back to camp, and I’m catching up with the group when I notice Sleepy, running at the back with some of Ellman’s little fan club. He’s still clumsy in his armour, and he’s obviously exhausted and dragging his feet. As usual, his boot laces are untied. I should probably tell him, but looking ahead I can see an opportunity to break up Ellman’s happy family, and maybe teach them to run with the others. They’re not the only kids on site, and they need to work with everyone.
Good luck, Whipping boy. Learn the hard way that your laces won’t tie themselves.
I run past Sleepy to where Ellman and Pearce are running together. Inseparable, these two. I push between them, and challenge Pearce to a sprint. He’s up for it, and we sprint together along the path through the woods. Mummy Ellman can learn to run by herself, without Dan to hold her hand.
We run past the other recruits, and make it back to the gate ahead of the group. I thank Dan for the sprint, send him on to Jackson’s gun training session, and wait for the others to arrive. It’s clouding over as I wait for the runners. It looks as if it might rain.
One by one, group by group, they run through the gate, following my shouted orders to line up on the field with Jackson. There’s a pause, when there’s no one in sight along the path. I’ve counted everyone in, and we’re missing four recruits.
And then Brown and Taylor are running round the final corner, out of breath. I shout to them to get to the field, but they stop, pointing back along the path.
“It’s Saunders! He’s busted his ankle!”
Saunders. Mr Sleepy. That’ll teach him to tie his shoelaces.
“Bex is helping him. They’ll be here as quickly as they can.”
“Thank you, recruits. Get yourselves to Jackson’s session. I’ll deal with this.”
They walk away towards the field, glancing back at the gate. I wait until they’re out of sight round the corner of the closest dorm, and then tell the gate guards to close the gates. One of them clips his gun and runs to pull the gates closed. The other wants to know why we can’t wait for the recruits.
“They’re late, and they know that we close the gates after the run. If they can’t get themselves back here on time, let them wait until I’m ready to let them in.”
“So you want us to keep them here.”
I smile. “Yes, I do. I’m ordering you not to let anyone else in. I need to be somewh
ere else. I can’t verify their identities. Who knows what might have happened on the run? We lost sight of the recruits. They could be terrorists in stolen uniforms.”
The guard nods, and the second guard returns my smile.
“No problem. We can keep them here. No sense in taking any risks, eh?”
“None. I can trust you on this, right? No one comes through without my permission.”
They’re both grinning now.
“No one. We’ll make sure of it.”
So I leave them to do their jobs. I have better things to do than wait for Mummy Ellman and her invalid.
*****
Jackson is busy on the field with the gun training, and I have paperwork to do for the commander. I sit at my usual table in the senior dining room, and get to work – glancing out of the window every so often to see what happens at the gate.
And it is glorious.
She’s practically carrying him. He’s leaning on her, hopping his pathetic way beside her in painful slow motion. She leads him up to the gates, and shouts something at the guards, who don’t let me down.
One of them stares straight ahead, as if these two sad recruits are invisible. The other lifts his gun to a combat-ready position.
But does she back off? Does she put her hands up and wait? This is Ellman, and Ellman with a wounded buddy. Of course she doesn’t. She shouts back at them, guns or no guns. This kid really needs to learn some self-preservation skills.
The guards ignore her, and she stands there, disbelief on her face. The guards continue to ignore her. I’m laughing under my breath.
Life isn’t fair, Ellman. Just because you’ve been a nice person today, that doesn’t let you get round the rules.
Eventually, she gets the message, and walks Sleepy over to the grass verge, swings him down so he’s sitting on the ground. I wait for her to sit down as well, but instead she walks back to the gate. I’ve forgotten my paperwork now. This is all about Ellman.
She walks right up to the gate, grabs the chicken wire with both hands, and starts shouting at the guards.
And the guards raise their guns.
I punch the air. I owe these guys a drink. This is perfect.
How’s that mother complex treating you now, Ellman? Should have left him on the path.
But she doesn’t back down. Not until the guards step towards her, guns pointing at her head. She lifts her hands and steps away from the gate – but she’s still talking!
I’m standing at the window now, in the shadows. I can’t believe she’s picking a fight with armed guards. One of them heads back to the guard hut, and my radio crackles to life.
“Gatehouse to Ketty? We could use some backup here.”
“On my way.”
How the hell is one little girl freaking out my guards? This shouldn’t be a challenge, leaving two late, slow, unarmed recruits outside the gate until I say they can come in. I hurry to the gate, before the commander notices what’s going on. I’m authorised to solve my own problems, but if one of the guards gets twitchy and calls the commander, I’ll have some inconvenient explaining to do.
Don’t you dare get me into trouble, kid. I’ve got more invested here than you know, and I need the commander on my side. Sit down, and shut up, until I decide you’re coming back in.
Sleepy looks utterly pathetic, sitting on the ground, trying not to cry. Ellman is still on her feet, so I ignore her pleas and head directly for the guards.
“They’re late.” I say, loudly, for Ellman’s benefit. “Leave them out there.”
I’m walking away, when one of the guards asks how long they should wait.
“I’ll let you know.”
When I’ve had enough of teaching these kids a lesson about authority, and rules, and looking after themselves.
I walk quickly back to the dining room, and go back to my paperwork.
*****
I’d been at the camp for nearly a year before Commander Bracken named me Lead Recruit. For eleven months I‘d been his in-camp enforcer. I kept the other recruits in line, reporting back any matters of concern to the commander, and dealing with everything else myself. Breaking up fights. Breaking up couples (no favourites allowed, here). Keeping dorms tidy and training running smoothly. It helped that there were witnesses to my first night encounter with Jackson, and that he had become one of my most loyal helpers.
After a year of intense training, we were ready to train new recruits ourselves. Most of the volunteers who joined with me were sent to other camps to train the growing numbers of young recruits. They had started advertising for more 16-year-olds to sign up, so there were plenty of kids fresh out of school to shape and train.
Jackson and I stayed on at Camp Bishop, along with eight other recruits. We were made Senior Recruits, and given the responsibility of running the training for the newbies – as well as keeping ourselves fit and combat-ready. It was a challenge, but it was also straightforward. Run the schedule. Pass on the skills. Keep the kids on their toes. Practice, practice, practice.
I had weekly meetings with the commander, passing on anything he needed to know about, and keeping things he didn’t need to hear about to myself. At one of these meetings, he offered me the promotion I’d been hoping for.
“I’ve been given permission to hire an official assistant.” He waved his hand, dismissively. “Not Woods – he’s part of the chain of command, and he reports back to HQ. Someone from inside the camp.”
I sat up straighter in my chair. If this was going where I hoped it was going, it would put me one step closer to a promotion out of the camp.
“You’ve impressed me this year, Ketty. You’ve kept everyone in line, you’ve kept time-wasting incidents from my door – and you’ve made it look easy.
“The recruits respect you. They also know that you’re right there, training with them. If they screw up, you’ll see it. If they step out of line, you’ll see it. They behave better, because they know that you’re standing beside them.”
I allowed myself a smile. This was what I’d been waiting to hear.
“So. I have a new position to fill. A promotion. A pay rise. A stepping stone to greater things.
“There’s a lot more work involved. You’ll be supporting me directly with paperwork, planning, reports for HQ. You’ll be spending more time working, but I expect you to keep up with your training, and the training of the new recruits. This isn’t an easy way out of responsibilities at camp – this is extra work on top of everything you do now.
“You’ll also be given security clearance to take part in HQ briefings, and to work on classified documents. You’ll be closer to the top, closer to the decision-makers, and your name will be on their promotion lists.
“I’d like to offer you the opportunity to be Camp Bishop’s Lead Recruit. I know I can count on you to work hard and fit in everything you need to achieve. I don’t think we’ve found the limits of your abilities yet, and I’d like to have you officially working for me.
“What do you think? Will you be our new Lead Recruit?”
I felt dizzy, and my chest felt like an expanding balloon. This was exactly what I’d been waiting for. Recognition by Commander Bracken, and a promotion to working with him. I couldn’t have hidden my broad smile, even if I‘d wanted to.
“Absolutely, Commander. It would be an honour.”
He smiled, and reached out to shake my hand.
“Welcome to the RTS inner circle, Lead Recruit.”
I thought I might burst with pride.
Falling
The whistle sounds for lunchtime, and the first spots of rain start to tap against the windows. I check the gate, and Ellman and Sleepy are still out there, looking miserable. I’m about to go and tell the guards to open the gates, when the commander walks in to the dining room.
“Recruit Smith!”
He’s shouting, he’s angry, and he never uses my surname in private. I kick the chair in frustration as I stand to attention.
“Sir!”
“There is an injured recruit locked outside my gates. Do you know anything about this, Recruit Smith?”
I was in control of this situation, but I can feel that power slipping away. I try to keep my voice strong and my body language confident.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Is he out there on your orders?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He pauses, shakes his head, and then addresses me like a toddler. As if he’s trying to patiently teach me the right thing to do. He speaks slowly and clearly, and I realise that he’s using this as a way to control his anger.
“Recruit Smith. Get yourself to the medical centre. Get me a medic and a stretcher. Meet me at the gate.”
And he turns and leaves the room before I have a chance to respond.
I aim a hard kick at the table, which skids across the floor, scattering paperwork, and slams into the wall. I punch my fist into a tabletop, take a deep breath, and start to walk briskly towards the medical centre. I’ve gone too far, and I need to win back the commander’s respect.
At the medical centre I open the door wide enough to shout through, and call for a medic and a stretcher. Doctor Webb comes running, and we carry the stretcher between us to the gate, catching up with Commander Bracken on the path. The rain is heavy, now, and I’m not dressed for it.
“Open up!”
The Commander’s shout brings the two guards running to open the gates. One of them flashes me a look and a quick shrug, but I ignore him. I’m here to hold the stretcher, and to get this situation under control.
Ellman helps Sleepy onto the stretcher, and the commander sends her to get ready for the assault course.
No lunch break for you, Mummy. Enjoy the assault course on an empty stomach.
The doctor and I lift the stretcher and carry it back to the medical centre.
We hold the stretcher next to a bed. A nurse helps Sleepy to move across, and tucks a pillow under his injured foot. His hair is plastered to his head by the rain, and his face is a grimace of pain. He can’t even look at me. The nurse starts to remove his armour, and the medic thanks me for my help. I take the stretcher back to the nurses’ station, and head back out in the rain.
False Flag (Battle Ground YA UK Dystopia Series Book 2) Page 3