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John Judge
A novel by
Michael G Franks
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2013
Other books by the author
Alfie’s Place
Marelle
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 1
The year 2036
Their hideaway was dark, cold and damp. The long since disused underground rail system in London had been residence to John, his wife Marie, their two children and the community that had followed him for the last two years. They had built a place of safety there. They changed their location on a regular basis as each day in the same part of the underground network increased the risk of detection. Makeshift portable lighting had been organised, heating was available at certain times of the day and a system of provisioning had been put in place. He knew that sooner rather than later, those that sought to destroy him and all he stood for would find him. But he had made sure that his battle would go on until he and his family and others like them could stand free. He vowed they would feel the sunshine on their faces and not have to live in fear anymore. If it could not be him, then it would be his successors.
His teams were able to move in and out of the network at will. No one knew in which part of the city one of John’s units would emerge to strike. After they had hit their target, they would disappear down into the maze of tunnels that had become their base. John had five cohorts, as he called them, each one led by one of the founder members of his group. On this occasion, he led his team with the objective of attacking a State police patrol. It didn’t work out as he had planned. They were pinned down by a second patrol that had outflanked and outnumbered them; cover was difficult. John managed to move some of his group to an adjacent building that enabled them to create some crossfire. The State police were starting to take casualties, as was John’s section. The Stapo began to withdraw and John was able to direct his men back to the underground. The wounded were carried by their comrades, but the dead had to be left where they lay. John suddenly realised that his wife had been wounded. He watched her stagger as she tried to keep up with him. She was holding her side trying to stem the flow of blood. John stopped and carried her. She was conscious and bleeding badly from her left side.
John Judge carried Marie to safety and realised that she was now unconscious. He prayed that he could get medical attention to her soon but quickly became aware as he tried to stem the bleeding that his beloved Marie had died. He carried her a few more yards to the alcove they had been using. John cradled his dead wife in his arms as he sat leaning against the wall of his hideout. Tears stained his dust ingrained face as he listened to the police sirens above, coming ever closer then moving away. Their search for him and all opposition would go on through the night and day, every day until he and his followers had been eradicated. That was their task.
The hideout was a place deep underground that provided him and his family some private time together. They were constantly hunted down by the establishment forces who never ventured underground to pursue them. Not yet anyway. Each of his lieutenants had also built their own bolt holes using previously blocked off alcoves. These had been built by the early underground railway workers. All of them were in different parts of the underground system. Many of the soldiers had been forced to bring their families underground, as it was no longer safe for them above ground. The deep shelters that were still intact had become their home. A message came in on John’s radio that disturbed him from his deep thoughts. He recognised the voice of Terry Bayliss his Second in Command.
‘You ok John?’ Terry let some time pass before he tried again. ‘You ok?’
‘No’ he eventually replied, ‘Marie is dead.’
The radio remained silent for some time.
Terry winced as he heard the words, but he couldn’t find anything else to say. ‘John, I’m so sorry.’ He had grown accustomed to death and loss and found it difficult to grieve. After a short time he asked, ‘Do you want to meet?’
‘Yes, EV231. 30 minutes.’ Their special code identified the particular part of the network but not the exact location. John would go out and wait in another part of the tunnel until he was sure Terry had not been followed. He was no longer sure that anywhere was safe but at this moment, he didn’t care. He had lost Marie. After half an hour, John laid Marie on the makeshift bed and kissed her gently on her cold lips. He tenderly caressed her face and said ‘we will meet again soon my darling, goodbye.’ He picked up his machine pistol and walked into tunnel EV231.
Terry looked at his map of their network of tunnels. He noted that EV231 was directly under Waterloo main line station, which was still operating, but the entrance to the tube station had long since been closed.
EV 231 was empty and there was no sign of Terry yet. It was always cold and damp in the rail tunnels and many of them had been blocked off so the air was stale. It had its advantages; State troopers didn’t venture down there, it was too dangerous. Some time ago, John had ordered the blocking off of some entrance and exit points and those that remained were always well protected. Thankfully, the State never knew exactly where their enemy was.
John watched Terry approaching. He noted how carefully he made his way along the shadowy walls. His friend looked behind him frequently, carrying his weapon, a Heckler and Koch machine pistol, in the ready position. They had all learned not to take chances. Most of the weapons the group had obtained came from skirmishes with the State Police, or Stapo, as they were now known.
John stepped out as soon as he was sure Terry was alone. Terry spun around pointing his weapon in the direction of John’s voice.
‘It’s ok Terry.’ John was quick to identify himself.
The two men came together and warmly embraced. They had been friends for many years and trusted each other with their lives.
‘I’m really sorry about Marie, John, what happened?’
John maintained control of his emotions but the tear stains on his face said it all, ‘I don’t know exactly except I saw that she was bleeding badly on her left side. After what was left of the Stapo patrol had ran off we broke the engagement off, she collapsed and I carried her back here. She was dead by the time I got her here.’
Terry was finding it difficult to find words and both men sat on the dusty concrete ledge by the side of the track in silence.
John was first to speak, ‘Terry, I want Marie left here, get some of our nurses to tidy her up before the boys are brought here. I’ll talk to Jason and Alex before they see their mother. Then I want this part of the tunnel sealed off; get our explosives guys to do it so just the alcove is sealed, we may need the tunnel in the future. The alcove where I’ve laid Marie is just over there.’ John pointed to a spot about 20 metres away. ‘So while you’re making those arrangements I want to spend a few moments with her.’
Terry nodded and started to move away.
‘Oh and Terry..., don’t let my boys in there until I have spoken to them and she’s been cleaned up, ok?’
‘Of course my friend, I’ll see you later.’
John felt the battle was over; all of the fight had gon
e from him and he realised that he was facing the last of his struggles. John knew that time was now short. The Stapo would eventually catch up with him. Marie had joined him on many of these sorties and both she and he knew the risks. John and his ever-increasing band of followers killed some of the Stapo unit tonight but at a high price. Marie and some of his soldiers had been lost in the firefight. This was the way things were now, a constant fight for survival against an ever more ruthless state. He had stopped calling it government when elections had ceased and all open political opposition had been eradicated. The police state was alive and well and doing what it did best...control.
John walked back to the refuge. He thought it ironic calling it a refuge with his dead wife in there. But for the moment, he would treat it as such, a safe haven for him and Marie. He smoothed the hair away from her lifeless eyes and looked fondly at what he still thought was the most beautiful woman in the world. He closed his eyes and remembered. He remembered the year 2010, twenty-six years ago, when he met Marie. It was a wonderful time. He had come home on leave after completing his basic training as a Paratrooper. He was so proud of his red beret but rarely wore it when on leave as attitudes had changed for the worst towards uniformed soldiers. Nevertheless, no one could mistake the fact that he was a soldier even in civilian clothes.
He remembered heading for his favourite bar in Wapping to meet up with his pals. Some were still civilians and others had joined up with him. John wasn’t interested in the banter that was going on amongst his friends; his attention was totally focused on the beautiful girl sat at a table by the window. She was with a female friend and John thought he would ‘chance his arm.’ He walked over to the couple and without taking his eyes off Marie (as he later found out she was called) and said. ‘I promised myself that when I finished my training I would buy a drink for the first beautiful woman I saw and as there are two beautiful women here what am I to do? Will you ladies allow me to keep that promise?’
The girls laughed and Marie said ‘I take it you’re a soldier, so we couldn’t possibly allow a soldier to break a promise, now could we.’ Her smile was captivating and when their eyes met, there was an immediate connection.
From then on, their relationship blossomed. One date led to another and lots of letters passed between them while he was away. One day when he was home again, he announced he was being sent to Iraq and a “will you marry me” followed?
John sat with his eyes closed fondly remembering that moment and the look on her face. He smiled as he remembered how happy it made him when she said “yes”. He remembered the wonderful day of his marriage and how he had spent too much time away fighting wars that no one but his political masters wanted. He recalled how much he and Marie wanted children, but they had decided that they would wait until he was out of the war zones. It was just as well as John was wounded and never recovered enough to continue his military career. John smiled as he remembered that within two years of each other two beautiful boys were born.
Looking down at Marie as he cradled her in his arms he wondered whether he had been right to embark on this battle against the State and put her and his children at such risk. The answer never came and he knew he would have to live with his decision for the rest of his life.
The radio suddenly clattered into life, ‘the nurses are outside John.’
He leaned over and kissed his wife for the last time and then let the women in to do what they had to do.
Out in the tunnel, Terry was waiting for him, ‘your boys are not too far away; would you like me to take you to them?’
John nodded and followed Terry to a small alcove that was being used as a store. He walked in and faced Jason, who was now 20 years of age and his younger brother Alex. They knew immediately what their father was about to tell them. All three embraced, none could hold back their tears. John explained what had happened and after several moments of silence asked if they wanted to see their mother for the last time. They did and so they started out back along the tunnel towards what would shortly become their mother’s tomb.
‘Are the preparations complete Terry.’ John asked.
‘Yes, everything is in order and we’ll wait for your command before we finish off.’
‘Thank you my friend.’
John and his two sons entered the refuge where his wife and the mother of his sons lay. John let Jason and Alex spend time close to their mother for he had had his time with her.
They eventually stood up and started to back away knowing they were never to see her again. John led them out of the room; their tear-stained faces saying all that had to be said.
John turned to Terry, ‘clear the area and do what you have to do.’
Terry nodded and watched the trio walk away down the tunnel as he gave the command to his explosives man to seal the room within the alcove.
John and his sons could hear the dull thud of the carefully placed charges and flinched. John held on to his boys tightly and urged them to walk on. He needed time to think and to stay close to his sons for the time being. He knew that sooner or later, he would be required to face his followers and make a decision. John was torn between his need to have it all ended and his burning desire to complete what he had started. But having seen his wife die, he questioned whether he could continue to allow his sons to risk their lives.
They reached a recess that had been converted into a rest centre and the trio sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts but connected by their common grief. John’s mind went over the events that brought him to this point and he re-lived that time. He allowed himself to drift back over the years. He had married in 2015 then saw his first son, Jason, born in 2016 before returning to Afghanistan only to be wounded in 2018. The last of his two children, Alex, was born in 2018 shortly after he was wounded. He was then discharged on medical grounds two years later. He spent most of the next three years rebuilding his life and was extremely happy. He and Marie had become heavily involved in voluntary work for the vulnerable in the community and John derived great satisfaction from the work they did. But it soon became evident to him that the signs were there that would shape his life forever.
John closed his eyes and recalled events eighteen years earlier, a time after the birth of his children and his growing dissatisfaction with the society he was forced to raise them in.
John Judge Page 1