by Benson, Tom
“A particularly well-constructed house-brick seat, if you don’t mind,” Flint said, grinning. He’d been delighted after building his range of seats when Victoria had suggested coating them with earth and then adding a cushion of turf. She’d said that over time the seats would attract growth and they’d end up completely green. It was worth a try.
The military-minded men had agreed to meet early to discuss what action to take regarding the presence of the woman in the forest. It wasn’t a conversation that any of them were looking forward to, but it was deemed necessary for their community’s safety.
“To the matter in hand, guys,” Bill said. “We have to consider our options, so have either of you got anything in mind before we have to dig deep?”
Sandy said, “The tiny but evolving voice of the pacifist in me is suggesting getting close enough to make contact and discover her mindset.” He paused and looked from Bill to Flint and back again. “Unfortunately, the soldier in me is recommending a different approach.”
“Flint?” Bill said.
“I think I’m with Sandy. Before we ended up here a few years ago, we were fighting for our king and country, but in this community, our hearts and minds have been re-programmed. There’s still a desire to defend those who can’t do so themselves but less of an instinct to actively seek a fight.” He nodded slowly. “Having said that, I have reservations about anybody walking into or near that forest unarmed.”
Bill nodded. “I’m pleased about one thing—we all seem to be on the same page. Peace and harmony is the preferred way forward. We have people who are dependent on protection, whether they choose to admit it or not. We also have young children who are not acquainted with fear or violence.”
Sandy said, “If there were any signs of a threat to Peter, I’d kill without hesitation or remorse.”
“Those are the words of a devoted parent.” Bill smiled. “If that parent happens to be a soldier, then it just bodes well for the safety of the child.”
Flint briefly placed a hand on Sandy’s shoulder. “If anyone threatens Peter they’d have more than you to deal with, mate.”
“Right,” Bill said, “let’s try to arrive at some solid options, and for now at least I’d suggest we keep this among ourselves. Although Fiona knows about Patsy being out there, I don’t intend to update her with every detail.”
“Reconnaissance,” Sandy said. “No more than two of us should leave the group until we have other people who can use a firearm; therefore, only two of us go into the forest. The mission is to see if we can confirm that it is Patsy, and also if she has a child with her and how they’re living.”
“I’d go along with that,” Flint said. “If we can hold back on the aggression and locate her first, it might help us to understand exactly what we’re facing.”
“Again, I’d agree with you both,” Bill said. “Whatever the person living in that forest might be, we’re not savages, so it’s not a hunting party—at least, not yet.”
“If it were possible,” Sandy said, “I think it would be logical to perform the task in several phases. We could have a period for debriefing and reflection between each if necessary, even if the break were only a few hours.”
Bill and Flint nodded for him to continue.
Sandy gulped his tea. “Phase One could be a recce with no intention of contact. We could return and discuss our findings. Phase Two would be making contact, but dependent on what was discovered on the first visit. Phase Three—meaningful dialogue if it were possible. If everything were to be positive, Phase Four could be when we’d have to tell the community about the contact and accept the majority decision on how we moved forward. Again, if all went well, Phase Five would be further communication, repatriation and integration for Patsy … and her child if there is one.”
“That’s not something you’ve thought up in the past five minutes,” Bill said and nodded. “For the most part, I like where you’re coming from.” He half-turned. “Would you do it any differently, Flint?”
“Sandy’s idea is the most diplomatic way to go, and my only concern would be the timing of when we brought the community up to speed. If we tell them too early … for example, if we told them now, it might cause a bad feeling or even panic. If we tell them at a later stage, we start to look like we’ve become a law unto ourselves and we’re not to be trusted?”
“I’ll try to play Devil’s Advocate,” Bill said evenly. “We’ll use Sandy’s proposed five stages as a start point, and I’ll offer some scenarios to consider.” He looked from one soldier to the other. “Let’s say that you two are performing the recce as the first phase, and you’ve found a substantial shelter in the forest. There is a noise behind you, but when you turn, there is a child with an arrow pulled back at full stretch ready to release.”
“Dive for cover,” Flint said without hesitation, but Sandy was staring at Bill; speechless.
“You’d be a dead man, Sandy,” Bill said. “Would it make a difference if it were an adult?”
Sandy nodded slowly. “If it were an adult I’d probably shoot.”
“Likewise, if it were an adult,” Flint said.
“Phase Two,” Bill said. “Let’s suppose there were signs of two people on your recce. You go back and leave a message with a suggestion of a place to meet, for example, near the freshwater pond in the forest.”
“Wait a minute,” Flint said, “isn’t that giving her the benefit of the doubt by meeting where she’d be at home?”
“Why wouldn’t you want to do that?”
“The meeting place could be booby-trapped, so we’d be compromised—” he stopped talking when he saw Bill nodding and smiling.
“Correct,” Bill said, “which is one of the reasons why I agree with the idea that we must train more people in using firearms.”
“Wait,” Sandy said, “are you suggesting that we take somebody who doesn’t know tactical movement or—”
“No,” Bill said, “I’m suggesting that we train other people to shoot so that we can plan this mission and others, confident that the community can defend itself. We’ve got people working out in the open regularly, and their lives might be in danger.”
“Surely there would be some suspicion about us teaching some of them to shoot?”
“They know about the wild animals, and we can up the stakes. We could say that we suspect survivors are living in the forest, and we’d have to be wary in case they had been adversely affected by radiation.”
Flint said, “How bad do you think this situation could get?”
“Look at the worst-case scenario,” Bill said. “One of us three is a fatality, but the other two have learned that whoever is in the woods must be terminated.”
“What about the child?” Sandy said.
“No prisoners,” Bill said. “In our new world, there is no point in capturing somebody if your intention is to incarcerate them. I know it sounds awful, but if you kill a mother like Patsy Mayne in hostile circumstances and don’t kill the offspring, you’ll be leaving yourself wide open.”
Sandy shook his head. “Surely if the child were spared, it would be suitable for bringing up in the community, even if it took time?”
Bill’s features were expressionless. “I’ll refresh the scenario, guys.” He looked from one to the other. “A woman who was a serial killer in a civilised world has spent the past six years living as a native in a wild environment. If she were to offer violence rather than a willingness to communicate, exactly what type of child do you think she’d have raised?”
“A child is a child, Bill—”
“No, Sandy, I’m sorry to say that in those circumstances a child is a wild, feral creature and one I’ve no doubt will have been trained in the ways of its mother. The only life the offspring holds dear is its own—self-reliance and survival are the ingrained watchwords. In the case of many animals if you kill the parent, then the young will die through hunger or through becoming prey. They haven’t been taught what to feed on or ho
w to avoid predators.”
Sandy and Flint accepted that Bill was playing Devil’s Advocate, but it was a hard premise to accept.
Bill continued, “A predatory animal, or child with intelligence, brought up to live in the wild will have learned patience, stealth and cunning. It will be aware beyond anything a normal person might comprehend, except perhaps people like us. In my view, such a child would be classed as the offspring of a predator. Remember, guys, the most dangerous and uncaring killer on the planet has always been the human race. Let’s say that you had to kill the mother and then you take the child, kicking and screaming away from the forest and all that it’s ever known. A sharpened colouring pencil wouldn’t be seen as an educational item; it would be a weapon.”
“Oh shit,” Flint said. “I see where you’re coming from now … a human time-bomb.”
Bill nodded. “I didn’t want to create a scenario so vivid but think for a moment about the first time one of our children in the community had a minor disagreement with the adopted feral child.”
“Fucking hell, Bill,” Sandy said, “I know exactly what you’re saying, but … killing a child—”
“I also didn’t want to admit to this,” Bill said, “but about two years before I finished my service, I shot a ten-year-old boy.”
“How—” Sandy sat with his lips parted when Bill raised an open palm facing him.
“It was in a school playground, and if I’d let him live, he’d only have survived long enough to pull the pin on the hand grenade he was lifting above his head.”
Flint said, “How have you lived with that, Bill?”
“The boy in question would have been dying but taking along his twenty innocent classmates.” Bill paused. “The playground was a tarmac surface. Even at his chest height, the explosion would not only have maimed or killed nearly every child; it would have torn their bodies to shreds and injured or killed many passers-by.”
Sandy looked down and was silent.
Flint said, “How the hell could a child end up like that?”
“In two separate incidents, the boy’s parents murdered forty-three innocent people in their combined suicide bombings. That boy in the playground didn’t want to kill all the children around him because he was bad. He was brought up to believe that suicide combined with mass murder was the way to die in glory.” Bill stared at his empty mug for a moment.
“Previously, I’d infiltrated enemy lines on wet missions, performed sniper duties and was involved in hand to hand combat. After that single incident, I didn’t fire a shot for three months while I was in counselling. I still can’t forgive myself for killing a child. I justify what I did by imagining a play area coated in the blood and the limbs of over thirty innocent women and children.”
“Where was it?” Sandy said.
“It was in a region where thousands of years ago a carpenter’s son was nailed to a wooden cross.” Bill’s eyes dulled as he mentally returned to the decisive moment. “I was walking past with my patrol, and the guys waved back at the children who were pleased to see us. A couple of us on patrol would give the children chocolate bars. One boy stood alone and brought a grenade out from inside his white robes. He held it up, reached up with his other hand with a finger extended and shouted something in Arabic. Most of the other children screamed, and some just stared. I shouted, ‘Grenade!’ but when my men hit the deck, I dropped to one knew and raised my rifle. The boy stared at me as he slipped the extended finger into the ring and his calm expression never changed. At fifty metres in those circumstances, it isn’t a choice of injuring a limb—it’s the protection of the innocents. I fired.”
“You could have been killed just staying still to take the shot,” Sandy said. “Who else knows about this?”
“Three of us now, and I’d prefer it stayed that way.”
“You suggested you were playing Devil’s Advocate for our situation, but you’ve caused me to envisage a scenario I hope we don’t have to face.”
“I’d never been a parent, Sandy. In my nightmares, I still wonder how I would have reacted—would hesitation have caused carnage and multiple deaths?”
Flint nodded. “You wouldn’t have seen a young suicide bomber; you’d have seen a child first … and those few seconds would have made the difference.”
“Thank you for telling us about that,” Sandy said.
Bill nodded. “What’s next?”
Sandy said, “Can we go back to what you said about Phase Two, Bill?”
“Yes, go on.”
“You said something about training others to shoot so that all three of us could be available for the mission into the forest. How would three of us improve things apart from manpower and firepower if it were a booby-trapped location?”
“Two of us would perform the first phase, and then as we said, the second phase would be communication, a message left behind with an offer to meet.” He paused as he pulled his thoughts back from the horrific memories he’d just resurrected. “Let’s say that Patsy observed you and let you walk out of the woods without taking action. If twenty-four hours were allowed before the meeting, one person could reach the forest under cover of darkness to observe Patsy and her companion before the meeting.”
Flint said, “How do we decide which one of us—” he caught Bill’s gaze. “No, Bill, we can’t expect you—”
“It’s my part of the plan if we go with it unless one of you has performed more hours in covert observation posts than me.”
“With respect, Bill,” Sandy said. “When was the last time you were in a covert O.P.?”
“I’m not going to qualify that with an answer, young man.”
Flint stifled a laugh. “Go on, Bill.”
“If one of us, and for the sake of argument we’ll say it was me, was to observe any hostile intent then the meeting would be postponed—permanently.”
“No second chances?” Sandy said.
“No second chances,” Bill said.
“I’m with you, Bill,” Flint said. “Let’s say that there was no hostile intent, like a booby-trap?”
“That leaves the observer free to follow and monitor the wild ones in the period between communication and the meeting.”
Sandy nodded. “Okay, I’ve got to give you credit for attacking my freshly-acquired trusting nature. Let’s now say that there was no booby-trap and the meeting went okay. Why would the third person have to continue observation during the meeting?”
“To prevent us being shot in the back afterwards as we left,” Flint said flatly.
“No, she wouldn’t,” Sandy said, “she’d have to be bloody quick to get two of us.”
Flint nodded to Bill and then half-turned to his friend. “She wouldn’t have to be too quick if the child was trained to kill.”
“Where is my fucking head at?” Sandy murmured.
Bill said, “At each stage, there would be a risk, but from the outset, there must be risk assessment alongside a gradual trust.”
“Okay,” Sandy said, “we’ll say that the first phase went well, we found their shelter and then went back and left a note with contact details as the second phase. For the third phase, we make the meeting and leave without being murdered—an arrangement is set up for the fourth phase—briefing the community before making further contact.”
Flint nodded. “The only political thing we’ve ever done is to have a committee for everyday stuff and we use a democratic process to make our major decisions. I think this one is pretty major.”
Bill said, “We could have a general meeting like normal, but it’s extraordinary because the three of us would have to stand up front and explain the situation. The woman who murdered one of our community and was a known serial killer was living in the forest not far away. We’d discovered her whereabouts and that she’d not only survived but now had a child.”
Flint nodded. “We’d be explaining it in a neutral way to allow the community to decide so it wouldn’t be a quick vote—there would be a shitloa
d of discussion.”
Bill said, “At the end of the discussion, we put it to the vote and … one person says no, Patsy and her child are not welcome, so what next?”
Sandy said, “To allow her to return and live within the community, with or without a child, I’d say it had to be a unanimous vote in favour.”
“Flint, what do you think?”
“What about a second vote if the first is negative?”
“Go ahead.”
“The community might vote unanimously against any return. We could have a vote asking who would be in favour of the woman and her child visiting to be gradually introduced to our people. Maybe no entry allowed indoors at first or something along those lines.”
“I can see where you’re coming from,” Bill said and half-turned. “What do you think of the visiting idea, Sandy?”
“My compassion is being tested by thoughts of any harm coming to Peter or the other children.”
Bill nodded. “That’s good because one of you being a parent is tempering your views in both directions, which is what will happen in a general discussion. Keeping those two opposing thoughts in mind, how about visits, but done the other way around?”
“I’m not following you,” Sandy said.
“We could take the idea of gradually introducing Patsy and her child to the community with visits. Instead of them coming to our place, we have people going to theirs.”
Flint said, “Fostering a mutual trust?”
Bill nodded. “Once again, we’re looking at it from a positive viewpoint, but if that were the way forward, it would still be a long road. We’ve got it sounding like a positive and hopeful scenario. Now, can either of you think of a reason it might not work?”
Sandy and Flint both looked at each other before turning silently to face Bill.
“I was wondering how Anne might feel about the whole thing,” Bill said. “Think back to the story we told you about when we first arrived in the tunnel six years ago. Anne was a police officer and so too was another of our passengers, Detective Sergeant Ken Wallace. They’d been on the trail of a serial killer, and that person was Patsy Mayne. Within our first couple of hours in the darkness of that old tunnel, Ken was brutally murdered by Patsy. I saw his injuries.”