Liberation (I Am Margaret Book 3) (9 page)

BOOK: Liberation (I Am Margaret Book 3)
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Silence. Ferrari wasn’t going to risk it. First thing when the guards arrived, they’d tested Bane, pushing, pushing to see how far they could go. When they found it wasn’t far at all, they’d quickly settled down, satisfied the guy in charge wasn’t made of jelly.

I struggled to do as Bane said and pay attention – but I kept seeing towering concrete walls, coils of deadly wire and a room, a white room my mind skittered away from even in memory. My breath came faster and… oh. Jon’s hand was still clasped in my sweaty one. I didn’t let go, and nor did he. Not until the Holy Father stood up to bless us and I needed my hand to cross myself.

Bane slapped a hand to his chest as though to check the blessing had gone in and said, “Er, thanks,” sparking a few good-natured titters.
Oh yes, be with us on this one, Lord
...

“Okay,” Bane said, when the Holy Father sat down again. “Everyone follow Eduardo to the armoury where you’ll be issued your weapons. Then proceed to the square, where the trucks will be waiting. In order of advance, please, so Colour team first, then Shape, Country, Utensil, Sweets, Sealife, Geography, History, Vehicle, Animal. Any questions about stage one – transfer from Gozo to the French department – last chance.”

Silence.

The room emptied, twenty-two by twenty-two. The only problem with being part of the command team – we were always last.

“Okay, Animal,” called Bane at last. “Follow on.”

Jon hugged me again, and I hugged him back. For just a moment I buried my nose in his hair, breathing in his calming scent.

“I’m your prayer support,” he whispered.

“You and the Almighty on our side,” I whispered back, “how can we fail?”

“I thought you were marrying the other one,” said Kyle behind me.

I spun around and actually put my hands to his chest and shoved him a few feet backwards.

“Shut up, Kyle! What is your problem today?”

“My problem? Calm down, Sis. I don’t think you’re supposed to push the clergy around, y’know.”

“You can if they’re your brother and they’re being a...” I used a word I shouldn’t have.

“Whoa…” Father Mark appeared between us. “What’s up?”

“Kyle’s being a total….” I swallowed the word I’d just said and made do with, “
prat!

“I thought you two got on fine. Or Bane wouldn’t have put you in the same team.”

“We do normally! When he’s not being a prat!”

Father Mark looked at Kyle.

“So Kyle, is it Margo or have you in fact been a...” He repeated what I’d said the first time – he
had
heard me.

Kyle stared at the wall, his face closed. Chewed his lip for a moment. Finally spoke in a low voice without looking at any of us.

“I was rude to Jon and… to Margo too. Sorry.” Still didn’t look at us. “I… I’d better get to the armoury.” He hurried away.

I stared after him, my anger turning to frustration.

“What’s up with
him
?”

Father Mark didn’t look puzzled at all.

“He’s probably stressed. Yesterday was the first time he’s ever been onto EuroBloc territory knowing he’s risking… well, call it the full whack… if caught. Now he has to do it again, almost at once, in a much more dangerous operation. I imagine he’s blabbing whatever comes into his head, just to keep his mind off it.”

“At least he’s got the sense to be nervous,” said Jon dryly.

“Not everyone’s as used to being in EuroBloc territory as you are, Margo.” Sister Krayj had overheard the whole thing.

“My goodness, if you’re trying to make me an example of fearless calm you are barking up the wrong tree!” Just coming from the canteen to the conference hall I’d diverted to the nearest toilet to lose my supper.

“What’s going on?” Bane came over. “Is there a problem?”

“Nerves and short tempers,” said Father Mark dismissively. “All done with, let’s go.”

“Bye, mate.” Bane gave Jon a quick hug. “I expect to see you actually looking better when we get back.”

“And I expect you two to come back in one piece,” said Jon bluntly. “I’d lend you my guardian angel but they don’t really detach.”

Bane waved this away.

“Don’t get in a flap, we’re each supposed to have one of our own, aren’t we? Come on, everyone, we’ve got to go. All the shiniest guns will be gone.”

“Fine by me,” said Father Mark, as we headed for the door. “I’m rolling mine in the mud first thing. I’m not marching up to a machine gun in the dark holding something shiny, no thank you. You can tell the EuroGov don’t think of them as combat weapons.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll all be rolling them in the mud, but that’s not the point.”

With a few last murmurs of, “Bye, Jon,” we hurried along the corridor after the rest of Animal team.

“What was that about?” Bane promptly fell in beside me.

“Oh, nothing. Kyle being stupid.”

“What did he say? Jon had a funny look on his face.”

He had, and I could’ve kicked Kyle in the shins for putting it there. Now Jon was thinking he couldn’t hug me, or squeeze my hand, or touch me in any way. Did Kyle think we could just use smiles and grins and all the hundreds of other expressions and visual communications sighted people scarcely knew they were exchanging! If
Bane
understood that, it was none of Kyle’s business…

“Margo? What did he say? You look like you’re going to deck him when we get to the armoury, and that won’t do.”

I let out a long breath. Father Mark was right. We were all stressed.

“No, I’m not. Really, let’s just forget it.”

Bane shrugged and his mind clearly snapped back to all the things leaders have to think about. Didn’t have enough attention free to be very persistent. Fortunately.

 

 

 

***+***

 

 

 

7

LIBERATION

 

Bane’s phone peeped under his jacket, very softly. Twelve twenty. The satellite had gone over. Time to begin.

“Hawks,” he murmured into his mic. “Get those mice in your sights. Start calling it.”

I let out a long, long breath and shifted slightly on the damp ground, finding a comfortable shooting position.

There. Comfy. Damn my shaking hands.
Lord? This won’t do!

Water from an earlier shower dripped from the bush above me, splashing onto the gun barrel, though the sky was clearing now. Eye to sight, find the tower. There. A darker night than ideal, but the floodlights illuminating the exercise yard on the other side of the wall silhouetted everyone in the guard tower nicely.

Blinking regularly, I stared through the sights, eye picking at every line and detail. Bottom of the window, top, sides, so that line… and another… so faint… between those, that was the gun slit… my hands tightened, moving the rifle millimetrically until the crosshairs sat between those two lines. Moved it again, horizontally, until they centred on the right-hand silhouette. Began to look all over again, checking…

“This is Little Lion, have a fat mouse.”

“Pigeon, fat mouse.”

“Giraffe, fat mouse.”

Yes, it was the gun slit. Definitely. I spoke into my own mic.

“Brown Bird, fat mouse.”

“Fox One, fat mouse.”

“Pussycat,
biiiig
fat mouse.”

“Gerbil, fat mouse.”

Silence.

“Elephant, call it,” said Bane.

“Elephant, thin mouse,” came an apologetic voice.

“How thin?”

“Pretty damn skinny.”

“Then use your wings. But
be quiet
.”

“Understood. Using wings.”

Come on, Elephant… If it took him too long to find a new position, one of the other guards might move…

I consciously relaxed my hands on the rifle. Mustn’t have tired hands when taking this shot. Come on, Elephant…

“This is Elephant, have a fat mouse.”

I settled the crosshairs onto the guard again. Gun slits, right-hand guard, check, check.

“Hawks, find your mice, confirm in sequence,” ordered Bane.

“Brown Bird,” I said quickly.

“Fox One.”

“Pussycat.”

“Gerbil.”

“Little Lion.”

“Pigeon.”

“Giraffe.”

“Elephant.”

“Anyone lost their mouse?” asked Bane.

Silence.

“Fire.”

Already letting out a slow breath… crosshairs in place… I squeezed the trigger. No sound, of course. Kept my eye glued to the sight…

The right-hand guard crumpled. The left-hand guard crumpled almost simultaneously.

“Any mouse not caught?” asked Bane.

Silence. All the guards were down. There hadn’t been a single noise.

“Aquatics and Birds, lay your eggs.”

On our side of the Facility, the shadowy figures of Hippo and Alligator rose from the forestline and tore down the slope, horribly visible against the bare earth of the killing ground. My heart throbbed in my throat. Reaching the small exercise yard gate they slapped a swaddled cylinder onto the lock; darted back a few paces.

“Fish and Reptiles,” said Bane.

Gecko and Grass snake were off down the slope as a muffled crack sounded. Deacon Gecko had been avoiding me – suddenly I wished I’d tried a bit harder to make things right between us… Too late now.

“Bugs and Meat Eaters,” said Bane, as Alligator yanked the gate open and Kyle and Grass Snake disappeared through.

Snail and Bumblebee raced off to seal the doors of the guards’ sleeping quarters with rock glue. Via the gate on the other side of the Facility, the Meat Eaters were headed straight to the guard room to deal with the duty guards. The Fish and Reptiles would cover them as they crossed the yards, then blow their way into the towers and stand guard over the unconscious soldiers. The guards should be out for a minimum of half an hour – the rifles fired stronger charges than pistols – but one guard waking early and reaching his machine gun…

“Command, Pets, stand by,” said Bane.

My hands were shaking again. I crawled to one side and laid the sniper rifle down beside the Foxes, who were staying at the forestline to cover us. Drew the nonLee pistol from my belt, checked the charge. Crouched beside Bane, waiting. He got up into a crouch as well, placing a hand over his mic.

“You don’t have to do this, Margo. One of the Foxes can go in with me…”

I covered my own mic. “And how would you feel if you were in bed in the middle of the night and a couple of armed men burst in and told you to follow them? It’ll be fine. Straight in and out.”

Father Mark would’ve dealt with the duty guards. Hippo and Dove would now be in the stairwells of the Lab block, in case an officer or one of the Lab staff came out of their accommodation in the upper levels. My chances of even seeing a guard, let alone a conscious one, were minuscule.

“This is the Meat Eaters, the mouse infestation is under control, Meat Eaters and Bugs off to collect the scruffy chicks.”

Bane’s eyes gleamed at me for one more long moment. I simply stood up, so he said, “Command, Pets.”

We ran down the slope, Pussycat and Gerbil coming from the forest line opposite the other tower and reaching the gate with us. We jogged past Jack – Alligator – without speaking, and sprinted towards the gym doors. Nausea rose unexpectedly in my throat as my feet pounded the sand. No, no, mustn’t be sick, I must just run, and the faster I ran, the faster I’d be out again…

Door, corridor, stairwell…
oh, Lord, I can’t, it’s all the same, it really is all the same
… And I’d known that, if all Facilities weren’t built to the same design we’d never be trying this but,
Lord, have mercy
, panic was sparking around my head in white flashes…

Get it together, Margo. You shouldn’t have said you’d do this if you… couldn’t. Look, top of the stairwell. Almost there

Crack

Pussycat had dealt with the top stairwell door. By the time I got through it she’d reached the barred gate. With one look to check I was following, Bane hurried to the dorm door, charge ready in his hand.

I opened the hatch and looked in – no one had got out of bed yet to investigate the first bang.

“Clear,” I rasped, stepping back. Well, at least I could speak.

Crack
.

Bane hauled the door open and I fumbled for the light switch with the trembling, useless thing currently masquerading as my hand. Light flooded the dorm.

Girls blinked at us from almost every bunk, eyes widening in terror.

“It’s okay, there’s no need to be frightened.” My Esperanto came out rather strangled. “You’re being rescued.”

They looked decidedly
un
-reassured. Ah… I yanked off the balaclava I’d deliberately worn instead of camo paint, trying to arrange my face in a broad smile rather than a look of terror and making sure my pistol was pointed at the floor.

“You’re all being rescued.” Nice and clear this time. “There’s no need to be frightened. Please put on your shoes and your warmest coat and form a line, holding hands with your bunk mate. Don’t stop to collect anything else.”

Stunned silence still... Was I going to have to say it all over again? Then a dark-haired girl who reminded me slightly of Dominique stepped forward.

“You’re Margaret Verrall!”

They’d heard of me? No way the EGD would allow my book in here…

“Look, it’s Margaret Verrall.” The girl pointed at me. “See the cross on her forehead, like they said on the radio…”

Suddenly the girls were tumbling out of the bunks, all talking at once.

“It’s Margaret Verrall!”


Margaret Verrall!

“She’s come to rescue us!”

“Quiet!” I hissed. “Come on, anyone who wants to be rescued, coat and shoes and in a line,
now
!”

Clearly realising – finally! – that time might be of the essence, the dark-haired girl and a lighter-haired girl began shoving their dorm mates here and there, haranguing them mercilessly in French. Various stages of comprehension on their faces, the girls stumbled to and fro. Painfully slowly, the line formed.

“Oh, and it’s Bane who’s rescuing you all.” I nodded to where he stood just inside the door, trying not to loom. “I’m just helping. Now, come on, follow me.”

I led off along the corridor, pistol not pointing at the floor now, and down the stairs at rather more than the brisk, calm pace we’d practised, but none of the girls had any problem keeping up. Bane followed at the rear. Hard keeping even to a simple jog as we got out into the exercise yard. Every fibre of my being wanted to bolt.

But…
oh,
thank you, Lord
, we reached the wall gate without anything untoward occurring and Alligator was grinning through his camo paint, waving us past him... we raced up the bank to where the Foxes lay... plunged past into the forest – bushes and trees flashed by and there was the truck ahead…

Boyracer began to help the girls in, and Pussycat was coming right behind Bane with the other dorm, Gerbil behind
them
, and Bane was speaking on the earpiece again.

“The dainty chicks have left the nest. Confirm scruffy chicks have left the nest?”

“This is Little Lion, scruffy chicks have left the nest.”

I was close enough to hear the relieved breath Bane let out.

“Fish, Reptiles, Aquatics, Birds, withdraw.”

The girls were almost all in. Thirty-six of them, unless I’d lost count somewhere. Going to be a squash with half the team as well. A lot of wide, anxious eyes glinted at me from under the canvas roof.

I touched Bane’s arm.

“I’m going to ride in the back.”

He scowled. If we were caught, he might not be able to get to me and I knew what his idea of protecting me in a last resort was. But after a moment he just nodded and boosted me in.

The Reptiles, Aquatics and Foxes jogged up. Bane, Boyracer and Gecko – still avoiding me? – slammed the tailgate once the others were in and went round to the front, the engine started and Bane made everyone do a full check. With everyone accounted for, the truck lurched off through the forest.

It was so dark in the back it was almost impossible to see, but several girls, staring at the silhouettes of the men and guns, began to cry. Enough light got in at the tailgate end to show the looks of confused dismay on the guys’ faces.

“Relax,” I told Fox One, who looked particularly aghast. “Some of them don’t understand what’s happening. How would you feel?”

The dark-haired girl was speaking in French again, her tone comforting, and some of the crying girls began asking her questions. She turned to me and switched to Esperanto.

“Where are we going?”

“We can’t actually talk about that until we’re on the boat,” I said with a reassuring smile. “Security, y’know. But it will be a safe place where you’ll have a future – no one will be cutting you up.”

The girl spoke again in French. A couple of the girls obviously didn’t speak Esperanto. People weren’t always very concerned about educating preKnowns. Salperton Senior School hadn’t even let Jon attend – apparently he’d have been ‘too much trouble to accommodate’.

More French back and forth and the girl turned to me again.

“They want to know if they can go home,” she asked flatly.

“No. They can’t go home. I think you know that.”

The girl nodded – turned reluctantly back to the others. Spoke softly and consolingly, but the waterworks redoubled. After a while she sighed and gave up.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Thérèse.”

“Thérèse. Hi. Nice to meet you. This is Pussycat…” I gestured to Sister Krayj, who smiled and waved to them all. “And here we have Gerbil, Fox One, Fox Two, Grass Snake, Hippo and Alligator.” The guys waved and tried to look ever so harmless. Cute but pretty unconvincing.

“You have funny names,” said one of the girls. I’d given the code names in Esperanto and Thérèse had translated them straight into French.

“They’re not their
real
names, silly,” said another girl.

“What are all
your
names?” I asked.

So all thirty-six of them gave their names, complete with surnames and mini-biographies.
No one
was going to remember it all, except possibly Jack – sorry, Alligator – and Grass Snake, being two of Eduardo’s brainiacs, but it broke the ice and reassured most of the girls they hadn’t been carried off by a load of psychopaths.

“Are you Resistance?” asked a girl called Emilie.

BOOK: Liberation (I Am Margaret Book 3)
13.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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