Balancing Act

by Rachel Churcher

  I need a night alone.

  But that doesn’t stop me thinking about Penny, and her milk-white skin against my dark sheets, all the way home.

  Katrina

  Bracken and his assistant are waiting when we arrive at Belmarsh. Bracken practically falls out of his chair as we walk into the waiting room, and I’m close to laughing as Smith stands to attention and gives a crisp salute. The contrast would be sad if it wasn’t so funny.

  Lee accepts the salutes and puts both of them at ease. He pours himself a coffee, introduces me, and starts the small talk with Bracken. I glance across at Corporal Smith. I’m hoping for a smile or a nod – something to break the ice – but she holds my gaze and tips her chin up slightly, her face still.

  I don’t know what I was expecting from the recruit who walked away from the RTS coach raid with a bullet in her knee, but she’s nothing special. Freckles. A light tan. Blonde hair in a severe, neat bun. Another athletic body under another smart uniform. And the ghost of a blush forming on her cheeks.

  Just another Home Forces girl. I know how to handle her.

  Lee sends me to the observation room, and I get started setting up the equipment. William Richards is waiting behind the one-way mirror, handcuffs chained to the table in front of him. I check the cameras and I’m powering up the recording gear when Smith walks in behind me.

  It’s a small room, and I pretend not to notice when she steps away, pushing the door closed and standing against it. She’s uncomfortable being this close to me, which is interesting. The blush on her cheeks is definitely spreading.

  This should be easy.

  There’s the hint of a limp as she shifts her weight, and I realise this is the coach raid injury, still bothering her. The coach raid I organised, with Richards as my contact. My breath catches at the thought.

  Her limp is my fault. I’ve changed her life and altered her career. I’ve marked her body and broken her skin.

  The thought is exciting. Powerful. I find myself wondering what her scars look like, under her uniform. What she looks like, without the loose fatigues concealing her curves.

  What I’ve done to her, without meeting her. How much of her already belongs to me.

  And then she notices Richards, and her body tenses. She’s clenching her fists and staring at him through the glass.

  She doesn’t know that I know about the coach. About her history with Richards. If I want to win her trust, I need to keep it that way.

  “Personal, this one?” I ask, as innocently as I can.

  She takes a calming breath, and smiles for the first time, her face softening.

  “You could say that.”

  I wait for her to tell me more, but she stands silently, watching the prisoner.

  And I see what I need to do. It’s a game. She’s testing me, and protecting herself. I need to do the same. Feed her just enough information to keep her coming back for more. Test her tolerance for mockery and then sit on that line, balancing help with ridicule. Make her depend on me, but never let her feel good about herself. Figure out what she does for Bracken, and use her to bring him down.

  Easy.

  I wave her to the chair next to the door and sit down beside her, making sure I’m just too close for comfort. Close enough to catch the scent of apple, and mint. My elbow nudges hers and she tenses, shifting away from me in her seat.

  Good. I’m getting under her skin. Time to offer her something.

  “So,” I say, as if we’re talking about the weather. “Have you been in an interrogation suite before?” She shakes her head, staring at the prisoner through the glass, but she’s listening.

  I explain the basics. One-way mirror, cameras, recordings with and without time stamps. And I tell her this is all Top Secret – that it doesn’t officially exist. Make her feel privileged to be here. She nods, and when I finish, she turns to look at me. Our eyes meet, and I can see the colour rising in her cheeks.

  I know that look. She’s hooked, and I can take as long as I like to reel her in.

  “So what else is there down here that doesn’t exist?”

  She’s really listening. She really wants to know. She’s making my job so easy. Time to give her more privileged information.

  “Another interrogation room. Holding cells. We can keep a whole team of terrorists down here, out of sight.” She watches me, waiting for more. “The cells are pretty full right now. Lots of people for us to question.”

  She narrows her eyes, still watching me. “Where did they come from? Your other prisoners?”

  I shrug. No point telling her everything on day one. I need to remind her who holds the power in this conversation.

  “Here and there. Top Secret.” I give her a smile and a wink, and her gaze turns cold. She doesn’t like me deciding what she hears.

  I nod towards the glass. “So what did he do to you?”

  There’s a pause. She blinks, and takes a slow breath. I know what he did. It was his raid that ended with a bullet in her knee. That took her from Lead Recruit to a hospital bed.

  I’d like to hear her side of the story – how it felt to be cut down and demoted by one of my rebel puppets. But she’s not in the mood to share.

  “I’d rather not discuss it,” she says, her voice tight. “Let’s assume that I’d very much like to hear what he has to say.”

  “OK,” I say, holding my hands up. “Just asking.” Let her think she’s offended me. Make it her job to reach out.

  I switch on the recorders as Lee and Bracken walk into the interrogation room and sit down facing the prisoner.

  Smith is staring through the glass, her whole body tense. She doesn’t move when Lee begins the interview. She’s hardly breathing. I try to keep her talking, but nothing is going to distract her from Richards, so I let her watch.

  I’m surprised when she asks me about the Opposition In Exile. She really is new in town, if no one has filled her in on the rebels hiding out in Edinburgh. I bite back my smile – this is a gift. This is where I get to reinforce my role as her mentor in London.

  As her friend.

  And she laps it up. She’s staring at me, concentrating on every word. I tell her about the former UK politicians and business leaders issuing press releases about taking their government back, while Scotland pays their bills, and we keep the country running. When she asks why she hasn’t heard of them, I remind her how much she doesn’t know. How she’s watching the Public Information Network like a civilian, and only seeing government-approved news. A little information, a little mocking of her ignorance. I can’t help smirking at the look on her face – she’s just working out how much she needs to learn, and what she needs to do to access the information.

  She’s working out how much she needs me.

  And I’m figuring out how to keep her on a leash. Intimidation and mockery, balanced with help and concern for the new Corporal.

  I know exactly how to persuade Katrina Smith to do everything I want her to do.

  *****

  “So?” Lee waits for the door to close behind Bracken and Smith, and reaches for his coffee.

  I shrug. “Easy. She’s so new, it’s painful. No one’s told her anything. I can feed her information and decide what she knows, and what she doesn’t. I can pull her strings.”

  He raises an eyebrow.

  “You think you’ve got her figured out? After one interrogation?”

  I shrug, and I’m about to make a joke when I see the smile on Lee’s face.

  “You think there’s more to her than that?”

  His smile spreads. He’s enjoying my discomfort. “Katrina Smith is much, much more than that. She’s nobody’s puppet, and she will not take kindly to being openly manipulated.” He takes a sip of coffee, and pauses. “Give her something she needs, though, and she’ll do anything you ask.”

  Lee knows more than he’s letting on. This morning was a test – he wanted to know what I thought of her. He doesn’t need to know what she’s like – he alre
ady knows that. He knows her.

  “You’ve worked with her before?” He nods, and I do my best to cover my surprise. “So what do I need to know?”

  He holds my gaze for an uncomfortable moment.

  “You need to know that she’s not one of your Home Forces flings. She’s not a clueless RTS recruit. She might not know the details of what we do here,” he waves a hand at the Belmarsh waiting room. “But she knows how to look after herself. She’s not going to make this easy for you.”

  I give him my most charming smile. “I think I can handle her, Sir.”

  He shakes his head, watching me. “It’s a shame we have to break her, to get to Bracken. She‘s capable of so much more, but it’s her bad luck to be sent here shackled to him. She could have had a sparkling career. Too bad we have to end it for her.”

  He likes her. He likes Katrina Smith. And he’s put me in charge of sabotaging her future in the Home Forces.

  I’ve already ended her RTS ambitions. I’m responsible for the bullet in her knee, and I’m the one who’s going to make sure she doesn’t survive here.

  This is important. This is about more than Smith’s ambition. This is about protecting Lee, protecting myself, and protecting the Home Forces.

  I have to take control. She needs a friend and a mentor, and I need to make sure she turns to me. I have the power to help, and I have the power to take her down – and Bracken with her.

  Lee shakes his head at the look on my face.

  “Careful, Corporal. She’s a lot to handle. Don’t underestimate her.”

  Guard

  Another morning, another empty bed. I wish I was waking up to the delights of Private Penny, but we’re meeting Smith and Bracken again this morning, and I need to be awake.

  Smith is in a fighting mood when she walks into the observation room. She doesn’t speak beyond a sullen greeting, and she doesn’t respond when I tell her the prisoner chained to the table in front of us is one of the rebels from Richards’ bunker. She’s making an effort to block me out, and I’m wondering how I’m going to break the ice between us when she turns to me.

  “I thought he was missing?”

  Smith knows the prisoner. He was one of the guards at Makepeace Farm. Was she at Makepeace for the bunker raid? Is that where she worked with Lee?

  I hide my surprise with a shrug. “We tracked him down.”

  There’s a determined look on her face as she waits for me to tell her more. I make her wait. I make her ask.

  “So he got away? He had several bullets in him last time I saw him.”

  Interesting. Lee hasn’t mentioned Smith’s role at Makepeace Farm. Time to find out how much she knows.

  “We think the terrorists took him with them when they escaped.”

  I watch her, waiting for a reaction, but she nods and turns back to the glass.

  Lee and Bracken take their places. Smith’s body tenses beside me as the prisoner explains that he doesn’t remember what happened at the bunker. She clenches her fists when he repeats his claim. She’s practically vibrating when he claims for the third time that he woke up in hospital with two bullet wounds, and no memory of being shot.

  “Give me a moment,” she says, standing up and heading out to the waiting room. I try to stop her, but the door closes behind her, and I’m wondering how I’m going to explain this to Lee.

  There’s a quiet knock on the interrogation room door. Lee and Bracken exchange a glance, and Bracken stands up, opens the door, and steps out. I’m running my hand through my hair, wondering whether to follow Smith and bring her back when the door opens again.

  Corporal Smith walks into the interrogation room, her back straight, her chin tilted up. She looks as if she belongs there – as if this is her interrogation. Lee looks up, clearly expecting Bracken. He covers his reaction, and waves her to the empty chair.

  I’m on the edge of my seat. Yesterday, Smith had never seen an interrogation suite. She’d never questioned a prisoner. She didn’t know how any of this worked, and she was drinking in everything I could tell her.

  And today? Today, she’s sitting in Bracken’s chair, elbows on the table in front of her, waiting for the prisoner to react.

  And he does. I watch a look of recognition twist his face. He knows who she is.

  I’m holding my breath.

  “Last time I saw you, you weren’t looking so good. Someone fixed you up nicely.” She sounds as if she’s talking to a difficult recruit. As if she deserves an answer.

  I watch the prisoner. With recognition comes a look of terror. I realise at the same time he does that Smith is about to destroy his alibi. The smile on my face has nothing to do with the prisoner, and everything to do with the woman who’s making him sweat.

  Lee was right. She’s a lot to handle.

  “So, you do remember.” The microphones distort her voice, but I can hear the force behind her words. “How’s the leg?” She nods at the table. “Still proud of taking bullets to protect children?”

  The prisoner launches himself towards her and throws his weight across the table. I make myself take a breath, fingers gripping the arms of my chair, as his handcuffs jolt against his wrists. He crashes back into his seat, a look of pain on his face.

  Lee shifts in his chair, raising a hand. But Smith?

  Smith doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t blink. I’m leaning forward, waiting for her next move.

  “Murderer!” The prisoner growls. “Coward!”

  She settles back in her chair, utterly relaxed, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “So, where were we, last time we met?”

  I watch a matching smile spread across Lee’s face as he turns to look at her.

  The prisoner shouts, spitting his anger at Smith. “You were in the gatehouse. You shot my helper. You shot a child in cold blood.”

  And still she sits, completely calm, watching him.

  “I shot a guard, who was refusing to help me.” She shrugs. “I shot you, too. As I recall, you didn’t help me either.”

  The prisoner takes a breath, and meets her gaze. “You had no right,” he says, quietly.

  She could stop. She could walk away. He’s already confessed.

  But she doesn’t miss a beat. She doesn’t give him time to recover. “I had a right to defend myself. Did you do anything to defend your helper?”

  She sounds as if she’s asking him how he takes his tea. She sounds dangerous.

  The prisoner slumps in his chair. “I used my weapon. I did the best I could.”

  Smith doesn’t stop. She’s got him talking, and she’s going to push him as far as she can.

  “Firing at me and my team?” The prisoner nods. “Denying us entry to the gatehouse?” He nods again.

  “I tried. I did my best.” He sounds exhausted.

  He’s cornered. He’s admitted enough for Lee to send him to a firing squad, but she’s ready to push again.

  “So you didn’t surrender? You didn’t drop your weapon and come quietly?”

  The prisoner is silent, and I don’t know what he’s doing because I can’t take my eyes away from Smith. She’s playing him. She’s completely in control, and she knows the power she has in this moment. She’s the centre of attention. She’s glowing.

  “Remind me,” she says, as if she’s making small talk at a party. “How many bullets did we hit you with? Two? Three?”

  I can’t believe this is the same girl who sat next to me yesterday, begging for information.

  She sits up straight in her chair, and her voice is edged with steel.

  “I’d say you were actively defending the bunker. Actively defending the terrorist cell cowering in their underground hideout. How many of them were helping you? How many of them were ready to back you up?” She leans towards him and lowers her voice. “I didn’t see anyone helping you out. I’d say the cowards were the ones sleeping downstairs while you were on the front line. Wouldn’t you?”

  The prisoner bows his head. Lee wipes the hungry smile
from his face and composes himself. I make myself take a breath.

  Smith turns to Lee.

  “Thank you, Corporal,” he says, and I know he’s trying not to smile. “I think that’s enough for now.”

  She nods, stands up, and leaves the room without another glance at the prisoner.

  I slump back in my chair. Lee was right.

  She’s magnificent.

  Predator

  After the interrogation we head back to the waiting room, and Smith’s attention is entirely on Bracken. She’s fetching him a drink when Lee throws her a compliment, but she doesn’t react until the coffee is safely in Bracken’s trembling hands.

  Does she think we don’t know about his drinking? Does she think she’s covering for him? I can’t resist a smile. We’re bringing Bracken down, and everything we need to make that happen is in this room.

  Lee doesn’t let her celebrate for long.

  “Tell me,” he says, settling back in his chair. “If you can inspire a confession like that from a known terrorist, why am I still waiting for you to bring in our missing recruits?” He sounds calm. He sounds bored. But the look in his eyes is fierce. He’s setting a trap, and he’s going to enjoy watching her walk into it.

  She doesn’t have the chance. Bracken steals whatever she was about to say and starts listing the measures they’re taking to find the missing rebels from Makepeace Farm. Bracken’s RTS recruits, who escaped from the bunker raid and disappeared. Corporal Smith’s recruits, who trained with her at Camp Bishop.

  Lee doesn’t take his eyes from Smith. He lets Bracken talk, but it’s her reaction he’s watching. She stands tall, eyes on the far wall, fists clenched, jaw tight. She wants to defend herself, but she can’t interrupt a superior officer. Bracken runs out of excuses, and steadies his coffee cup on the arm of his chair.