Paul was happy that it was snowing, because it would help to muffle any sounds they made on their approach.
The UAV would still be able to fly and release its missiles, so he considered the weather to be an advantage. I hadn’t been present when the soldiers were preparing for the Gumin attack, and was impressed by the care taken to check and re-check every single piece of equipment they were taking.
Allan had inspected the weapons we’d been given and had spent the day in the front room of Pete’s house, learning how to strip and clean both the SA80 and the Light Machine Gun, disassembling them and putting them back together. Michelle had teased him about having a new love in his life.
He kept insisting that it was necessary, so that he could familiarise himself with the weapons, and only stopped when Pete and I joked that we wouldn’t be surprised to see him running up and down the road, holding one of the guns and making pretend machine gun noises, just as Stanley did whenever he found a gun-shaped stick in the garden.
The civilian visitors were generally settling in well. Most of them had mixed with the rest of us from the outset, and had clearly enjoyed themselves at the previous night’s celebration. Like the rest of us, they were making the most of the day of rest. Some of them were using the time to visit and introduce themselves to the people on the road they had yet to meet. I did notice that three of them weren’t quite as sociable as the others.
They were friendly enough, but so far, they’d kept to themselves and spent most of their time huddled together in the kitchen area, talking.
I didn’t give it much thought. They were our guests, but they weren’t really our responsibility. We were happy enough to show them what we’d done in order to survive. Hopefully, they would learn from this and pass on their knowledge when the time came for them to help existing communities or form new ones.
We didn’t need to make friends with them. It was helpful if they were friendly, and in the short time that they were with us, made the effort to get along with the community, as they would probably get more out of their experience by doing so. If they chose not to be, that was their choice.
I reasoned to myself that I was probably being a bit unfair. They’d only arrived the day before and had been thrown straight into work and then the New Year’s Eve party. They probably just needed some time to settle in. I decided I’d make the effort to chat to them later, as I understood that Pete had included all the new arrivals in the revised guard duty rota to help cover for the soldiers Paul was taking on the raid.
The snow continued to fall steadily, and by the time it was dark, there was at least twelve inches on the ground.
Paul informed us that they were ready to depart, and that once the soldiers had eaten a hot meal and taken a short rest, they would make their way to the farm and get into their positions before daybreak. He was confident that the mission would be a complete success and that the occupants of the farmhouse were unlikely to survive the initial missile strike. If they did, they were unlikely to be in any fit state to offer resistance when the ground troops went in. He had some reservations about leaving us with only a few soldiers, but he was sure that we were more than capable of defending ourselves. In the meantime, he would be up against an unknown enemy with modern weapons. He needed plenty of men on the ground, as well as technological superiority, to guarantee their success.
We all urged him not to worry. He was, after all, going to deal with what we believed to be our closest threat.
Harry was staying behind with a small contingent of soldiers and he was cheerfully organising them to fit in with Pete’s revised sentry rota. I hadn’t witnessed it the previous night, as I’d been on guard duty, but apparently Harry and Kim, the young girl who had been rescued from St Agnes Road, had been getting along very well and had spent a good deal of the time chatting quietly in a corner.
Perhaps it was the lack of television or other distractions, but the community had lost no time in speculating about “the romance of the century” and a possible future royal wedding. Harry seemed amused, but didn’t deny anything, so perhaps the gossips were onto something. I visualised the future press interviews:
“So Kim, what first attracted you to the multi-millionaire prince of the realm?”
The road looked beautiful covered in its blanket of snow. The soft glow of the lights was diffused and reflected back, and any noise was quickly deadened by the softness of the surroundings.
Pete had issued more coal to each household in an effort to ward of the cold, and the smell of burning coal further enhanced the sense of tranquillity and security.
The peace was shattered briefly by the sound of engines revving and vehicles starting up. The soldiers boarded the fleet of vehicles and left to begin their mission. The falling snow quickly muffled the sound of the engines and silence fell again. The sentries huddled into their jackets and counted off the minutes until they could come off duty.
Becky was down for guard duty from ten until midnight and I gave her a hug as she left. I told her she looked very sexy, wrapped up in her thickest coat, with a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck and wearing her ski hat with her skiing goggles perched on her head. The look was finished off with a shotgun slung over her shoulder.
“You’re every man’s dream,” I teased. “Warm and dangerous!” She pulled a face at me and set off through the snow.
Once the children were asleep and I’d spent some time with Jane and Michael, I climbed into bed to get some sleep before my next guard shift.
The sound of shotguns and an automatic weapon firing woke me up with a jolt. Shaking off the sleep, I reached out for Becky. She wasn’t there. Grabbing the torch that was kept by the bed, I switched it on. Her side of the bed hadn’t been slept in, and the clock on the bedside table showed that it was 11:45. She was still on guard duty and we were under attack!
Grabbing what clothes I could find and throwing them on, I hurried down the stairs, shoved my feet into a pair of boots, snatched up my MP5 and ran out of the door. More shots could be heard from the top of the road.
“Oh Christ, that’s where Becky is!” I thought, as I pushed my way through the snow. I could see other people running out of doors, weapons in hand. We’d practised this over and over and I had to trust that the others would follow the procedures we’d established.
In the event of an attack, at any time, anyone not involved in defence had to make their way to my house and lock it down. I’d left my children in bed, possibly still asleep, but I had to make sure that Becky was OK. All the children had been well trained and drilled in the routine as well, so they knew what to expect and what to do.
Just in front of the barricade was a body lying in the snow. It was face down and the snow beneath it was dark with blood. It was wrapped in a large coat and it wasn’t possible to tell who it was.
“Becky!” I screamed.
Throwing myself down next to the body, I turned it over. It wasn’t Becky. Relief washed over me, swiftly followed by horror. It was Dave. From the gash on his neck, it looked as if his throat had been cut.
Dave and his wife Jo were enthusiastic and helpful members of our community from the beginning. Their children, Billy and Katie, were about the same age as Stanley and Daisy and were good friends.
But he was on the safe side of the barricade. Who had done this?
My thoughts were racing. Where was Becky? Holding my gun ready, I jumped up on to the barricade. A soldier was sprawled across it, face up. He’d been shot numerous times in the chest. More residents were arriving and everyone was demanding to know what had happened.
At some point in the night it had stopped snowing and the clouds had lifted. The light of the moon reflected off the snow and the entire scene was bathed in an eerie half-light. Further up the road I could see movement. More shots rang out. Without thinking, I jumped over the barricade and ran through the open gates, towards where the army vehicles were parked, ploughing through the knee deep snow as fast as I could.
/> I could see a soldier, holding a rifle out in front of him, dragging another soldier by his webbing. He was trying to make for cover as bullets hit the snow around him.
Taking a chance that he must be one of our men as he was being shot at, I slid to a stop behind the wall he was trying to reach. I got his attention by shouting at him, and grabbing him by his coat, I pulled him backwards and helped him get his friend behind cover. The injured soldier had been shot in the leg, and was conscious but in a lot of pain.
“What happened?” I shouted at him.
“I don’t know. We’d just finished our guard shift and we were getting my kit bag out from one of the lorries. As we were walking back we heard shots from the barricade. We ran forward to investigate, came under fire and Jimmy got hit. There were three blokes, and they all had guns.”
“Why didn’t you shoot back?” I asked, exasperated.
My heart stopped when he said, “They had three women with them. I couldn’t get a clear shot. They were struggling, but they were dragging them along.”
“Which women?” I demanded, frantically.
“I don’t know. I only got here yesterday. One was that woman Prince Harry was chatting up last night, I think the other one was the girlfriend of that copper. The last one I do know, I talked to her last night. Her name’s Becky. When we walked up to get my kit bag, I noticed all three of them were sitting in the shelter on the barricade, talking.”
“Who were the three men?” I asked. His answer shocked me.
“They came from the base. They were always hanging out together back then. They never mixed much with the rest of us.”
I looked over the wall I was sheltering behind. About fifty metres away I spotted two of the men pushing Becky into the back of the only armoured vehicle still parked there. The rest of the vehicles, apart from a few lorries, had all gone on the mission.
She was fighting them as hard as she could. I couldn’t see Michelle or Kim. They must already have been in the vehicle. One of the men punched Becky in the face to stop her attacking him.
She collapsed in the snow, he picked her up and threw her into the back of the vehicle.
Seeing this, cold fury overtook me. I leapt over the wall and started to make my way towards them. I was going to rip their heads off with my bare hands. As one of the men stepped into the open I raised my weapon and opened fire, trying to hit him as I struggled through the knee-deep snow.
My gun clicked empty and I saw him raise his weapon.
The world slowed down.
He was aiming straight at me, there was a flash from his muzzle, followed by searing pain and then darkness…
END OF BOOK 2
UKD 3
CHAPTER ONE
Shadowy figures in black and white. Whiteness all around me. Screams from Becky? Cold, cold snow on my face, then nothing …
Slowly, bit by bit, the nightmare receded and relief flooded through me. Just a dream, I told myself. All just a bad dream.
I began to wake up.
As my senses returned to me, everything swam back into focus.
I was lying in my own bed.
Confusion took hold. Why was I here? And more importantly, why did my head feel as if it had gone ten rounds with Frank Bruno? I closed my eyes against the slicing pain and drifted off again.
Seconds (or hours?) later I started to come round again. “What’s going on?” I croaked. Why was my throat so dry? The last thing I remembered was – “Oh my God! Becky!!!”
My eyes shot open as the memories came flooding back and panic seized me. Almost immediately, I heard a familiar voice.
“It’s OK, darling. I’m here; we’re all here. We’re all safe. Just lie still now. Jerry’s on his way.”
“Becky, is that you?” My throat was so hoarse I had trouble speaking. “What happened? The last thing I remember is you…”
I broke off and the tears came. I remembered how desperate I’d been, fighting to get through the snow, as I watched that bastard hit my wife and bundle her into the back of the armoured car.
“He shot me as I was trying to reach you, didn’t he? I’m sorry Becky. I tried to get to you. I let you down. I should have been there to protect you.” The tears came thick and fast.
Shaking her head gently, Becky took my hand in hers, “Tom, it’s fine, honestly. We’ll tell you everything that’s happened soon, but the important thing is we’re all OK. You did your best and what happened was my fault, not yours ...”
She was interrupted by Stanley and Daisy bursting into the room, closely followed by a smiling Jerry.
At the sight of me, they stopped in their tracks and hung back, not sure if it was OK to approach the bed.
“Come here, you pair,” I croaked again. My throat still felt raw and dry and I coughed a little. I desperately needed a drink, just to soothe it.
Reassured, they both rushed forward. As I moved my head, I realised with a shock that it was swathed in bandages. I hugged them both with one arm and using my free hand, touched my head tentatively.
“Tom, don’t fiddle,” Jerry said gently.
A few minutes later, Becky ushered the kids out of the room, telling them that Daddy needed some rest.
With Jerry’s help, I managed to sit upright. Becky handed me a glass of water and I sipped it gratefully, my throat immediately feeling better.
Jerry watched me carefully for a moment or two.
“We were a bit worried about you for a while, Tom.”
“Why?” I asked. “How long have I been here?”
“Five days!” I exclaimed, when he told me.
Jerry nodded, “Becky hasn’t left your side since we got her back four days ago. She refused to go anywhere.”
I looked at Becky properly for the first time. She looked an absolute wreck. She had two black eyes, which were beginning to fade, and her hair was in disarray. And although freshly laundered clothes were a thing of the past now, it was clear that she’d been wearing the same things for some days.
Cold fury hit me.
“I hope they got the bastard who did that to you.”
“Yes,” said Becky calmly, “but don’t worry about that for the moment; you’re back with us now and that’s the main thing. Let Jerry check you over and then we’ll bring you up to date.”
Jerry lost no time in examining me. With the limited equipment he had available to him, it was a very “low-tech” process.
He checked my eyesight and focus, reflexes and memory, and after some general prodding and poking, announced that I should be OK, but I was lucky to be alive.
Unwrapping the bandages that were covering my head, he proceeded to explain my injuries to me.
“You’ve been shot in the only place they couldn’t hurt you too badly,” he said, smiling, “in the head!”
Now that the bandages had been removed, he held up a mirror. I had a wound dressing on the right-hand side of my forehead. Asking me to hold the mirror, he carefully peeled off the dressing.
I had a livid gash running from my forehead to below my ear. My hair had been shaved. It was an ugly, deep wound.
“No bloody wonder my head hurts!” I said.
Jerry grinned and shook his head, “If the lottery was still running, I’d tell you to go and buy a ticket. Less than a quarter of an inch to the right and you wouldn’t be here now.
The bullet grazed your skull and went as deep as it could, without actually touching anything vital. You’ve been unconscious since it happened, so all we could do was hope and pray that you’d come back to us once your brain had sorted itself out, after being rattled a bit by the bullet.”
Still looking at myself, I said, “You put it so well.”
Jerry turned serious, “If you’d remained unconscious any longer, we were planning to transfer you back to the base, where they could run more tests on you to try to work out the extent of the damage to your brain. But you began to move slightly yesterday and respond to our voices, so we knew you were coming
back to us. We removed the tubes that were giving you fluids and medicines this morning to prevent you from doing any further damage to yourself.”
I shifted restlessly, “Can I get up yet?”
“No, Tom,” he smiled, “let’s leave that till tomorrow. You may feel all right while you’re lying down but trust me, you’re not back to your old self yet. If you get up, fall over and bang your head, we’ll most likely be back to square one. One more day in bed won’t do you any harm.”
I pulled a face but in fact had no trouble drifting off to sleep again.
The next time I woke I could see light streaming through a gap in the curtains. Looking round, I saw Becky slumped asleep in a chair in the corner of the room. She was still wearing the same clothes and obviously hadn’t left me. How long had I been out for this time?
I felt much better. My head still hurt like crazy but I felt more with it. I looked over at Becky. In spite of her weariness, she looked beautiful to me.
Her soft brown hair, much longer now that visits to the hairdressers were a thing of the past, covered half her face, making her bruises less visible. As if sensing my scrutiny, she opened her eyes, raised her head and smiled at me. I smiled back.
I was reminded that she always seemed to know when the children were about to stir, and would wake up just before them.
Hearing a quiet snore, I looked over the side of the bed. Stanley and Daisy were fast asleep under the same duvet on a mattress on the floor.
“They both wanted to be here when you woke up.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“All night again,” she said, stretching and yawning. “Jerry says it’s a good sign. Your body’s healing itself, so sleep is good.”
“I do feel a lot better now,” I admitted. “I felt a bit fuzzy and discombobulated yesterday. Now it’s just my head that hurts.”
We were speaking in whispers so as not to wake the kids. Becky got up from her chair, lay down next to me on the bed, and we waited for them to wake up.
UK Dark Trilogy Page 34