by Vance Huxley
“Hah, if Fergie ties me up or down, I won’t care about draughts from anywhere.” A few moments later a very serious voice asked, “Really? All night?”
It was Harold’s turn to snigger. “You’ll need a jailor. There’s a new batch of impressionable young girls running about in here, so I’ve got to protect them.”
In the middle of the gardens, away from everyone, Ski suddenly stopped tweaking Harold about corrupting innocents. She checked they were alone, nerves or reflex because there wasn’t enough cover to hide a rabbit. “I’ve got an additional message, the shoot before opening type, but you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone. Not even the Demon, or Emmy, or Casper.”
“Why not?” Harold paused, because the answer would be in the message. He thought hard. “Can I tell Mercedes and my sister?” That way he’d get a sanity check on whatever it could be.
It was Ski’s turn to hesitate. “Mercedes won’t betray you, not after what she risked to get you. Your sister must be clean so yes. Nobody else. Ken says there’ll be someone undercover in here, from the government. She found ours, so all the Barbies with wigs know about it. The spy will have been here a long time, probably from just after the Crash. They’ll have worked their way into a position of trust, squeaky-clean. Even if it isn’t one of your top people, the spy will be someone they trust so don’t tell them. Do you agree?”
“I might have to think about that, keeping it from everyone else. That’s a big secret to keep from people who trust me.” Harold wasn’t going to keep quiet, not completely, though he’d think long and hard on who he told.
“Don’t think for long, because if you can’t keep quiet about that I can’t tell you the rest. According to Ken, our spy talked before he died. He reported to the government but sometimes received information about other gangs, or instructions to try and steer Malibu into doing something. The other spies must work the same way. Now will you keep the secret, because we, the Barbies, can’t risk the General knowing the last part of the message?” Ski turned away, kicking a shoot of something that had been planted in here to harden off away from rabbits. “I hate this sneaky shit. Just give me a machete and some asshole to hit!”
Harold needed to know the rest of the message, so he lied. “Okay, I’m convinced. I’ll keep quiet about the spy and the message.”
“The General has rockets that might break your walls. They’ll definitely flatten the Castle or Beth’s which is why our gangs made a deal. If we tell you about the rockets, the Bloods will attack our estates. Ken can’t stop the likes of me and Beetch, even Chandra, from trying to help so that’s not a secret. Vulcan will try, and others from both gangs, but even the General will expect a few loners to break the agreement.” Ski hesitated again, then it tumbled out in a rush. “Ken said to tell you there’ll be a lot more, because she’s going to break the fu…. Cripesing agreement anyway. That’s the rest of the secret. We can only send about fifty because we daren’t weaken Beth’s too much, and they can’t set off until all the General’s men are through our territory. We’ll be coming very slow because we’ve got to clear any watchers from five miles of ruins, in the dark. We can’t allow even one radio message from one of his pickets, because the General’s rockets will break into Beth’s and the Castle, and he’s got a lot of men.”
Harold nodded slowly, his mind whirling as he tried to work out who his spy might be. “Just knowing you’ll be coming is a huge relief. What about the GOFS?”
“We can’t really meet and plan, but the border guards often share a house these days so a vague message was passed. Ken sent a message back, explaining the spy hunt and asking the GOFS to wait so we can hit together. Cy confirmed the GOFS will be spy hunting as well, but will wait. Cy’s message for you is that the GOFS are coming, but not all of them, and Vulcan didn’t send a number.” The humour finally began to leak back into Ski’s voice. “Vulcan is smart enough to wait until our gangs combine, unless he has an attack of lust. I’m allowed to tell Patty he’s coming but just him.” She sighed in obvious relief. “That’s it. I can tell everyone about the men, everything we know about the attack except the rockets, because the General will expect someone to get through.”
“We might be better off running away, load up all the cars and go.” Harold thought Roller and ET would take everyone, especially with all the extra weapons. The Mansion was already provisioned for a siege.
“Don’t, because while she bargained, Ken picked up on the odd remark here and there. The General will follow your experts and your girls anywhere they go, because they are why he’s gathered so many allies. Personally, he wants to catch or kill several individuals, you in particular because he’s still pissed off about the tank. Patty and half a dozen other fighters are on his list.” Ski made an odd noise, not exactly a laugh. “I was going to say you could probably get away but you won’t leave the rest, will you?”
“Nope, and neither will the other fighters, but some of the non-fighters might leave. Now we’d better hurry up, or Mercedes will be after you with a knife and Fergie will be threatening me with handcuffs.” Despite the light tone, Harold spent the time making their way through the gardens in deep thought, none of it cheerful. His mind kept coming back to having a government spy in Orchard Close, right from the start.
* * *
Once Harold arrived home, Ski gave him a quick run-through of the bad news, the public version. That included a better idea of the numbers of men and more details about the gangs involved. Harold immediately sent for the squad leaders. As soon as Patty came in, Ski had a personal message. “Vulcan promises he hasn’t forgotten the invitation to dance. He might be late, but he’ll get here even if he has to shoot his way out of the Castle.”
“Out of the Castle? What’s happened? Late?” Patty looked from Ski to Harold.
“Wait, because everyone needs to know the whole story. Vulcan has a good excuse for being late.” Harold ignored the muttered ‘he’d better have’ as the rest gathered. Casper arrived last, asking Josh to wait outside and closing the door on him.
“Right Ski, everyone’s here.”
The group sat in silence as Ski described the General’s Army and the ultimatum. Mercedes said it first. “So we’ve been sold out.”
“Yes and no. There’s just too many. Ken would have taken a chance, hoping you and the GOFS got there in time, but with the gangs he’s collected you won’t be able to drive the General away. He’d love you to try. The MiB have a lot of automatics and big rifles, the Bloods are nutters, the Pinkies hate us anyway, and Julius has a lot of really well-disciplined men. The Jets are just greedy bastards. Nobody has ever heard of these Cain types but Ken saw a big block, over a hundred, with a big red cross on their chests. They were all well-armed and well-armoured.”
Ski sat down and slumped, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “If the General can get through our walls we’ll be dead before you arrive, and might not even bleed them much. Ken thought Orchard Close might have a better chance because your walls are custom built, not reinforced buildings. On top of that the General’s men will be forced to take aimed shots, because one bullet hitting the bypass will bring in the Army with helicopters and jets.”
“I’ve always hoped any attacker would hold fire as they attacked, for just that reason. To be honest, even if the General doesn’t use guns he might have the numbers to wash right over us.” Harold didn’t want to upset Ski or Ken, but it had to be said. “I’d also worked on the assumption we’d have allies.”
“You still have a better chance than us because you are all behind walls, including your civvies. You know how many ordinary people live out on the estates where we can’t protect them from a full-on gang attack. He’s threatened to kill one in five. We’d be buried if we came out to protect them.” Ski looked hopeful, then her eyes dropped again. “Even if you let us have all those guns Caddi gave you.”
“Combined, the Barbies, GOFS and the Riot Squad could stop even seven hundred, but two gangs would be abandoning every
thing. Even if there was time, I’m not sure we’d all fit into one stronghold.” Patty smiled to take the sting out of the words. “There’d be arguments at least, between individual gang members.”
“True. Our lot would never leave Beth’s and the GOFS won’t abandon the Castle. Just an idea, that was all. Not an official one, just mine.” This sober young woman without any trace of humour wasn’t the Ski they all knew, which underlined the situation. “The official message is that we are sorry, but we have to give way. Ken reckons that with the open ground and enough guns you might stop the General, or cost him enough men to break up the alliance. Even if it gets to machetes, your Riot Squad will come as a hell of a shock to the likes of the Jets.”
“Too many of them are still wounded. It’s only been three weeks, a fortnight since Doc operated, so some of the cuts have barely stopped weeping.” Emmy shook her head, looking down at her hands. “There’s only fifty trained fighters that are fit enough to go hand to hand against seven hundred experienced fighters. We’ve got about fifty new recruits, but they’re not even properly toughened up yet. Everyone else is wounded, to varying degrees.” She lifted her head and straightened, her voice firming up. “So we’d better kill a lot of them out on the fields.”
Patty nodded as Mercedes made a tiny seated bow. “We will make them pay for every step.” The Killer Queen wasn’t in her eyes, but a hint coloured Mercedes’ voice. “In blood, not coupons. We’ll all be on the walls, anyone who can shoot.” She glanced at Harold as he opened his mouth, shaking her head very slightly. Mercedes could shoot, so she’d be on the wall with ’Arold.
“Ask Vulcan to do me a favour will you, please?” Patty gave a wintry smile. “If we go down before he gets here, finish them, because we will cripple them first.” She gave a short laugh. “After all, think of all those lovely weapons, and all those injured and knackered assholes celebrating because they’ve won?”
Ski glanced at Harold, gave a little shrug, and told them what she could without breaking the secret. “Don’t run, because the General will chase you across the whole city. He wants the people, not just the equipment in here. While you’re digging in just remember that Ken and the GOFS only agreed to let them pass one way. The General should pay attention to wording. If you can hurt them enough, even wounds will do, then even if the bastards win none of them will get home. We just daren’t make a move unless you’ve killed a hell of a lot, or the Bloods will attack the estates.” She took a deep breath and plastered on a bright smile. “Right, so is the pub open? I want to see if anyone can lend me a pair of handcuffs or I’ll never get to sleep.”
Tessa shook her head in mock despair. “Yes, it’s open, and we managed to save the beer.” Ski headed for the door, but just before she reached it Tessa added, “Fergi is off duty, and I heard she’d been shopping for handcuffs.” Ski stopped, just for a moment, but didn’t turn round which was just as well given the row of smiles. The smiles disappeared as soon as she left, because Orchard Close had run out of time.
8 – The Gathering Storm
As soon as Ski left, Harold made the first decision. “All the non-combatants, including the badly wounded fighters, have two choices. They can run, using every car we’ve got if need be, or go under the wire. I’ll ask the squadettes to go up to the squaddies and pass a message with the chips, that I want to talk to the sergeant.” He headed for the phone because everyone had to know what was about to happen, as soon as possible.
“Where do we draw the line between those who can and can’t fight. Cripes, Harold, there must be a third of the Riot Squad who can’t move well enough to wield a sword or can’t use one arm. Another third are barely trained.” Patty’s glance at Mercedes met a determined glare.
“But we can all shoot, and we have the right to decide. The newcomers, the girls from the Hot Rods and those who got away from other gangs during all the fighting, can pull a trigger or point a spear. Anyone who wants to can hold a shield, throw a bomb, or load pistols and muskets.” Mercedes took hold of Harold’s hand. “If ’Arold mixes us together, those who can shoot, those who can stab, experienced and amateurs, in strongpoints with lots of pipe bombs?”
“Not enough pipe bombs, although at least we’ve got someone to make more. I won’t tell anyone they can or can’t fight, because they’ve already done more than enough.” Harold gave up on keeping Mercedes out of the fight, for now, but he liked the idea of strongpoints. The General had enough men to get over the walls, swamping the fit fighters, so maybe that was the answer. Fifty fit fighters to protect doors and windows, while the rest kept shooting and throwing bombs or knives, might be enough. Though if it got that bad, gangsters would be running riot through the rest of Orchard Close. The rest of the houses had to be evacuated. “We’ll defend the walls but with a few strongpoints that will cover breakthroughs. The least mobile fighters can go in there.”
“There’s too many places the walls could be breached by those numbers. It’s a good job we thickened them. They might collapse, but there’s too many bricks to ram a hole right through, even if the General has found a lorry.” Casper glanced at Harold with sudden understanding. “Have you heard he’s got one?”
“No, just that there’s too many lorries out there now. Can you and your apprentices raise more of the walls, reduce the length of wall we have to defend? We’ve got a couple of days, even if the General starts marching in the morning.”
“Not really. There’s watchers out there now. Even with the tarpaulins covering the work they’ll see how fast we build them, and that we don’t use many bricks. Then they’ll guess all the taller bits are hollow, and they are. It’ll take too long to raise a section at full thickness.” Casper looked down at his leg and shook his head. “I can’t see to shoot, or stand to fight, and now I can’t build fast enough.”
“There’ll be plenty of shotgun work, and with those numbers even you can’t miss with a musket.” Doll reached over to thump Casper’s shoulder, gently. “I’m relying on you to attract all the Pink Panthers while we kill the rest. We’ll put you in a frilly pink dress so they can find you.” At least Casper’s shudder, at the thought of the Pink Panthers mobbing him, brought a few smiles.
“Cellars. We use houses with cellars as strongpoints, then the wounded can be taken there in case the walls are breached. I was worrying about them being slaughtered if some nutter got inside.” Tessa looked relieved, and then determined. “I’m not usually a fighter, but I’m a real expert with guns and an adequate shooter. This time I’ll be on the firing line.” She turned to Sharyn before anyone could object. “You hide under the bypass, or sneak under the wire, and look after Eddie if I don’t make it.”
As the initial shock wore off, Casper, Patty, Doll, Ru, Alfie, Matthew, Bess, Emmy, Tessa, Sharyn and Mercedes set into helping Harold to flesh out a real plan. The strongpoints more or less chose themselves. There were only three big houses with cellars on the main road through Orchard Close, on the opposite side to the walls so the front gardens and road created a killing ground. There’d be no persuasion this time; the occupants would be evicted if necessary. Every single resident had to be involved because every house would be stripped to minimise any damage.
A plan quickly took shape, carefully steered by Harold because he’d remembered what Patty said about morale and had thought of a plan B, or X for extreme. Plan X depended on the Army, so Harold hoped Sarge would go along. Plan A, the public response, included building brick steps over the back wall to help the evacuation. The survivors could run over them if too many attackers got inside the enclave. Sarge had already suggested his men would cover a retreat across the exclusion zone, then use artillery. Plan X needed the brick steps, but wider with a gentler incline for an entirely different reason.
When the rest went home, Harold told Mercedes, Tessa and Sharyn about the government agent. The four of them played ‘spot the spy’ without success, because too much depended on how long ago the ‘whoever’ had joined. Even the likes of Bess,
who had joined in the very first days, might have been a plant. None of them could work out how Casper could be a spy, how he could have been on that road and known what Harold would do. Others were really unlikely, because Patty and Ru, for instance, were too keen to put themselves in danger to protect others or kill scroats.
“Unless someone got to them later, maybe told them the government had their sister or mother?” Tessa stopped, and her eyes widened at another possibility. “Keep an eye open in case the spy is an assassin. If you are killed, Harold, the defence might come apart.”
Harold turned to Tessa. “What? No. Patty, Casper, Emmy, all the top ones, including you, are perfectly capable of organising the defence.”
“True, but it’s a matter of perception.” Sharyn looked from Harold to Mercedes. “Everyone out there knows what you pair did.” Harold smiled at Mercedes and she smirked. “No you silly sods, when Caddi was here, in this room.” Sharyn gestured at the study. “And that room. You remember what Stones used to call you? Freddie as well, most of the blokes did.” She’d started smiling now, at the pre-Crash memory of her husband Freddie.
“Soft Lad.” That was Tessa. The pair were a good double act. “Because you said you’d be no good in a ruck so you went for the clerical bit.”
“You even said that the fuss and the medal had been some shooting, not up close and nasty. Because you couldn’t do that. What did Stones write, that last time?” Sharyn passed the ball to Tessa, who sighed.
“He said Soft Lad turned out a lot different when it mattered. He’d got it, even when it turned bloody. You know Army letters, no details.” Tessa sighed again, at another memory. “There’s a letter for Eddie, for when he grows up, but that was the last.”