by Tyler Danann
“Waes Hails! I’m Yeoman Weyland, this is Yeoman Knight. We’re with Eagle Intelligence branch.”
“Weyland! Good to see you!” Burnside called back to him. “Have you just got here from the border?”
“No sir,” answered Weyland, “we came in from the Estates a short while ago. My wife-to-be was injured recently.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Listen, I’m Captain Burnside investigating this place. There’s a Ministry Agent been admitted with crash injuries here, but these civvies are not helping. Have you seen or heard anything in your ward?”
“Of course, Yeomanry Intelligence is interrogating her sir.”
Andy Knight had heard some of his friend’s conversation and expected protective lies. On hearing his response he looked shocked.
“Oh good, well we can handle that now son.” Burnside said optimistically. “Which ward and room are they in?”
“I can’t say sir, that could jeopardize things.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know she ran down men at the border. That means retribution is at hand from their families and comrades. As a Provost you’re here to see it done.”
“Yeoman, a Provost guardsman is badly injured at the medical center and the other is dead. That’s grounds for execution.”
Weyland shuddered but steeled himself. He knew he was stalling for time. Gearson was too busy at the Estates perusing the data from London. He could only hope one of the other Colonels was on his way. He’d left an urgent message with Eagle Intelligence but that was just prior to speaking with Rebecca. It would take at least thirty minutes for a retrieval team to drive to Westfield from their location.
“I know Yeoman law captain, but we killed her driver and she too is injured. That counts for something in my book does it not?”
“No it doesn’t,” the officer said bluntly, “they drove through into us, not the other way around. She is the aggressor.”
“We have to set an example though Captain, lynching injured patients will destroy relations with the civilians. Besides which, the agent is high-value, she could get us Major Matthews back.”
“That’s doubtful and she is lucky I wasn’t at Beaverbrook when they blew through the border-crossing. How Yeoman Riley and her contact got hold of the duty driver’s Land Rover will be dealt with later. For now I want that agent Yeoman, that’s an order!”
“I declare it an unlawful order sir and cannot obey it. As a Raven-class I invoke Colonel Seymour’s mission authority.”
For a moment the Captain considered arresting the pair, in spite of claiming Seymour’s rank. Yet they were violent agents, he could tell and, like most, had heard of Yeoman Weyland’s renown. Being of Eagle Intelligence meant they had Colonel Seymour’s patronage at the very least, making them partially immune to Provost actions.
“Corporal Sykes,” Burnside said to a man nearby, “you got a good look at this woman?”
“I did sir,” he answered immediately, “I’ll recognise her again when I see her.”
“Peruse the database, go through all recent admissions, get me the wards and room numbers.”
Sykes and two of his underlings pushed past the doctor who protested and began searching the computerized database. Another one moved in and restrained the doctor from interfering.
“When we find it, don’t stand in our way,” the officer declared, called out to them.
“I can’t let you pass.”
“I’ll have you taken down for this Weyland!” Burnside shouted, losing his cool. “Your Raven rank may keep you safe from me arresting you, but not from punishment!”
Weyland felt tempted to relent and give in to the demands. Yet despite his conscience going back and forth like a tug-of-war rope, he remained resolute.
Doctor Monroe who stood nearby now spoke up, having found his courage again. “Captain Burnside, if anything should happen to one of my patients by you or your men you can forget about us ever patching up a wounded Yeoman in the future.”
“Doctor, Yeoman Law states the Next-Of-Kin of a slain Yeoman can have sentencing rights. I’ve just visited his family to deliver the news of their loss and they want her shot, after my interrogation of course.”
Staff Sergeant Garnett who was with the Redoubt Detachment now spoke quietly to Burnside. “What if she is integral to our intelligence war? Maybe the only chance we’ve got of getting Major Matthews back alive.”
Burnside took a deep inhalation, he was no big supporter of Matthews. He considered him too much of a wildcard. Then there was the fact one of his relations had been killed at Belgravia. The officer told Garnett who nodded gravely.
“The reservists want vengeance Garny, a slain Ministry spy will calm their blood.”
“Aye, but so will getting Matthews back too.”
Weyland, watching the discourse saw the writing was on the wall and changed his approach. “Sir if we can just wait for a colonel—”
“No more talk from you Yeoman. The establishment slaughtered too many of our own in Belgravia to expect mercy.”
“I didn’t answer the call-to-arms ten years back to see helpless enemies dragged out of hospitals,” Weyland pointed.
Both sides stared each other out and Knight tensed for a fight. There was no way they could defeat Burnside’s Yeomanry. Stood as they were a gun battle would be insanely one-sided. Half of Burnside’s men would back him in a fight immediately, the rest would come rushing in from outside after the first gunshots.
Weyland felt confident they had a slender chance to retreat back down the corridor, and hold them off for a while. Yet dying in a hospital over his enemy, albeit his former lover of long ago, grated him nonetheless.
The Captain was about to demand Weyland’s sidearm when another faction of the Yeomanry arrived outside. They entered past the infantry cordon and went through the main doors to appear behind the Provost and infantry detachment. To Weyland’s relief he saw it was the Commander of Eagle Intelligence, Major Garenby. With him were several Yeoman Rangers and more were outside.
“He must have already been nearby already to get here this soon,” Weyland replied quietly to Knight.
“Well I passed word to his base on the secure line, just before we set off from the Estates,” Knight said grinning.
Weyland was gobsmacked. “You could have told me that earlier mate!”
“I had to leave the message with a duty clerk, I wasn’t sure if it would get to him in time.”
Garenby and Burnside conversed but the latter was growing frustrated and Sykes’ team were making progress. Sykes had been struggling to work the complicated database but finally found an internal menu screen. He began to slowly cross reference the data with dates of those patients admitted.
“Yeoman Law states—” repeated the Provost Captain for the umpteenth time.
“I know what it states,” Garenby said. “A family should be given time to deliberate on such a thing. You can’t just expect a rational answer after the death of a loved one.”
After some more back and forth bickering occurred it was a deadlock. Nothing more took place until Colonel Seymour himself arrived on the scene, thirty minutes later.
His navy-blue dressed bodyguard watched the scene carefully as their leader listened to both sides arguments. Garenby was indirectly Yeoman Weyland’s point of contact and naturally supported him against Burnside’s hard-line direction.
“What’s this agent’s name Eric?” Seymour asked casually.
“Agent Templeton sir, one of their best.”
He nodded, paused at the name before smirking slightly. “I see. Captain, that agent is indeed vital to Albion’s interests,” he looked at the pair of Yeomanry operatives guarding the corridor. “From a special team dedicated to hunting our special team you might say.”
“But sir, the family’s sacred wish is sacrosanct!”
“No action is to be taken against her. I will decide her fate, it will be appropriate.”
“Sir I must in
sist, Yeoman Law states—”
“I know Yeoman Law I helped write it!” Seymour said sternly.
Neither Sykes nor his two helpers noticed the Colonels arrival and he saw the description and ward number for Rebecca Templeton. “I’ve got the agent’s ward number!” Sykes called over to them.
Before he could speak on Seymour’s voice roared over the Corporals. “Shut your fucking mouth soldier,” the Colonel said boldly pointing his finger. Sykes backed away from the terminal, fear showing on his face on seeing who it was. Almost like a switch Seymour returned to speaking in his more profound manner. “Now, there is an exception I insisted upon when Yeoman Law was being written in case of… complications such as this one.”
“An exception?” the Captain responded dumbfounded.
“An exception in which a non-Albion visitor who kills or murders is, upon expulsion from Albion, may be declared outlaw by the aggrieved family. The said family can freely seek out vengeance at their leisure.”
“That means it’s the families call after she leaves our territory?” Burnside pondered.
“Correct,” the Colonel turned to address his Intelligence men. “Major Garenby, Raven Weyland, let’s go and meet this popular agent I keep hearing about.”
Together the three of them moved on deeper into the hospital. Seymour’s elite troops and Garenby’s Yeomanry warily watched Burnside’s men for a time. There there were no more threats from the Provost after that though.
Chapter 21
The Conflux
At the Estates the following day the Colonels argued and debated about what to do next. The complete, uncensored, unedited media footage from the Belgravia Massacre was sent out. The effect was almost immediate and public opinion began swaying towards Albion and not away from it. No longer was the mainstream media of Britain considered sacrosanct and more of their citizens tuned into listen to Albion’s side of the story.
The data from Malthar, while enlightening about the Inner Way’s updated agenda, was cause for great concern at the same time. At first there was some talk of fleeing Albion for the sanctuary of Scotland, this was avoided by a majority being against it. To do so would almost certainly mean they’d become pawns of Scotland. The lingering risk the Scot’s could curry favour with their enemies was too dicey. Then there was the fact they’d be hypocrites by fleeing like refugees from their own hard-won land and not standing to face the coming storm.
“Yet what is to be done?” became the driving impetus. Each of the twelve Colonels gave their strategy or supported those they agreed with. Colonel Ian Penkin stood with them listening, he was the fourteenth officer present but had no real authority.
“A strike team extracts the Prime Speaker from London and forces him to sign a confession,” Colonel Lawrence Dudley said. He was a shrewd and cunning officer. The man was one of several veterans of the first coup that took down the government of old. “We have Veitch admit his traitorous ways and let him turn words against his masters who put him in power. Our media can broadcast it and any remaining support for the Coalition vanishes. We cut off the head of the snake, their body dies and the problem is solved. No mass-immigration, the remaining New Europeans can kept at a distance, moved to areas of their own choosing and those that want to be around them. Eventually they’ll self-deport, just like those that have already left Albion.”
This had some impact and several nodded their heads.
“Laurie, that might work on paper, but it’s almost certainly tantamount to a suicide mission old friend.”
“Veitch is due to visit his relations in the Middle-East. He flies out of Heathrow this November, I’ve calculated a seventy-percent success rate.”
“That’s too long to wait, the Welcoming Bill will be taking effect next month! We need to act far sooner than that or we won’t even have an England to save!” Lysander said ardently.
“Then there’s the fact the fat slob might change his plans, “ Bladen said drily. “The Coalition could end up replacing him with someone worse.”
It was Colonel Edward Fairclough’s turn to speak next. “We hold back and wait,” he spoke calmly and humbly, he was one of the most peaceful of the Colonels. “The people will not stand for this Prime Speaker to ride over them like this. We wait for mass protests and uprisings. Then we deploy to all towns and cities to announce our support for them against the tyrannical ways of the Prime Speaker. A pro-Yeomanry leader can be elected to ensure Albion’s long-term survival and prosperity.”
“That’s all well and good Eddy,” Colonel Penkin said evenly, “but we rely on the populace having the wits about them to go out and do something. Then there’s the fact no one can assemble large protests without police approval anyway. If they do they’ll be kettled into a corner and starved into submission. What remains of the regular army will quell any dissent the police enforcers avoid.”
Colonel Donaldson had his turn to speak and he relished the opportunity. “We wage defensive war, both conventional and irregular upon ANY non-European that tries to enter our borders. If they do they are dropped right back over the other side. If they resist, lethal force is used.”
Over half the room was in agreement but it was not enthusiastic.
“That will outrage the other European nations Dougie.”
“Some of the other nations, not all,” he responded. “We could end up gaining supporters and volunteers from overseas as well.”
Gearson, Weyland and Riley had arrived only a minute ago but now they took in the scene and listened to Dudley. He was supporting Donaldson’s idea.
“Our ancestors would have done this right at the start and called it for what it is, an invasion by outlander people who have no business being here!” Dudley stated bluntly.
“The problem isn’t just the invaders!” Colonel Lysander warned. “At least a quarter of the populace in Britain thinks being multicultural is normal now. The other quarter are indifferent, a third quarter is actively promoting and enabling it and we are the last slice who actively oppose it!”
“If we get the regular army on our side we could hold the line,” Seymour turned to Penkin. “Ian, do you have it in you to pull strings and get the generals over there on-side?”
“There’s little chance,” he shook his head regrettably, “nearly all of them are either anti-nationalist, bought and paid for, or part of the Knowlen Lodges who want a global-unity. For them nationalism is entirely secondary to universalism or supranationalism.”
“What’s the answer then?” Bladen lamented. “Do nothing and watch as our heritage dies out within the next three to four generations? Our children and children’s children will curse us for eternity!”
There were loud shouts and exchanges for several seconds, but out of the noise a bold voice spoke up from the other side of the room.
“We’ll do something but it will have to be something our enemies are least expecting and when we strike, the blow will resound so strong and loud, no-one can ignore it.”
Everyone turned to see Gearson suddenly on his feet and commanding the room with a steely presence. Next to him stood Yeoman Weyland.
“Who is this man?”
“It is Kallan Gearson the one from the Underways, those our ancestors knew well, ”Weyland introduced.
“They say you have a hidden army that sleeps underground,” Colonel Donaldson said disparagingly, “yet no-one ever sees them?”
“Armies ought to always rest for a time, at least before a war starts,” he responded. “Yet like you, my faction is divided,” Gearson said evenly.
“Fragmented we stand though,” countered another. They’d known too many others from oversea who claimed to support Albion but were too tame to do anything but talk. “Perhaps they aren’t brave enough to wake and help us at this critical hour?”
“They are brave but only a few like myself feel bonded-strongly enough to aid surface-landers. As you feel strongly against the populace of indifference and apathy as does my faction against yours.”
“You are no Colonel Mr Gearson and this is Yeomanry business.”
“I say let Kallan speak,” Colonel Dudley said after waiting for the heated exchanges to fade.
“When we were walking this earth of old, things happened for the good of the tribe, the people and the realm as a whole. When we were kings destroying a danger was easy, we saw it and did what had to be done if it threatened. Now the dark-strangers are coming and they will slowly overwhelm Europa because the age is weak and corrupted. You stand right now, but it’s not enough against the relentless ways of our enemies.”
The words were strange to them, yet there was an element of reality and truth to it and the man continued.
“I’ve known you people before, from when you were at your best and your worst. You might say I’ve seen it all and heard it all before.”
“When is this fool going to shut-up?” said Colonel Bladen, a hardened cynic and skeptic.
“In the All-Forest your kindred would already be out there watching for danger, cutting it down before it was too deadly. Not cooped up in a small territory waiting for it to overwhelm.”
“Colonel Penkin, your contact is a lunatic!” Bladen scorned with an angry dismissal.
“Colonel Bladen,” Gearson answered directly and with a biting loudness, “why do you keep your Yeomanry scouts tucked away in the north-east of Albion when they’d be best served down in the southern reaches? Near the Black Country?”
“How dare you question my tactics!” Anger burned through him, and he fought the urge to draw his sidearm and shoot down Gearson.
“Let him speak Geordie,” Seymour chided. “Kallan and the Deep Eyes have been paramount to helping us, they have my authority.”
Gearson continued. “Colonel Bladen, I remember well how your family fortunes diminished after the serpentine Tudors had their way with them. Only in recent times your grandparents were detained for wanting peace during the European Wars. Then your father was blown to bits by government agents for working to try and help Rhodesian folk only a few decades ago. This fostered a sense of caution to you and your family with good reason.”