Jonathan was annoyed too. ‘Tell us what our children will do over the next three weeks and where they will be.’
Wolf answered. ‘We can’t tell you where. We can’t let you speak to them and the specialist training might help one or more of them on their mission.’
Jonathan laughed loudly. It was a very strained atmosphere and he was nervous for his boys. ‘Mission? You make them sound like mini James Bonds.’
‘And Jane Bond’ said grandma.
Wolf continued. ‘We want them to understand all the threats they may experience whilst playing the game for real and to develop a mindset to never give up. But! This will be done in a fun way. As if they were on a PGL holiday.’
Jennifer added. ‘Jack will enjoy that,’ but Jonathan wanted nothing to do with the faceless men’s vague plans.
‘Hold on Jennifer, just hold on. I want to know how safe they will be when training and I definitely want to know what they will be doing if selected.’
Rupert and Maria held their heads up high. ‘Our Roger can come on the training Mr Edmunson and Mr Halsall and we hope he is the one to go on the mission. We know our son would do anything for God and The Queen.’
Jonathan was on his feet. His wife was pulling at his trouser leg to encourage him to sit down. ‘It’s easy for you two to say that. We have both Jack and Timmo to consider and Timmo is only 9 years old for god’s sake.’
‘Duty is duty Jonathan.’ Rupert was adamant.
‘Duty or not, Rupe. We are talking about two children who represent our dreams and hopes for the future.’ The rest listened to Jonathan and silently agreed. There was a pregnant pause and the two agents remained quiet. They had been trained to leave a silence, it tempted others to fill it and say more than they should. Two ears and one mouth was the maxim.
Grandma had also remained quiet, she was eyeing up the two officials. She decided the messing about needed to stop. ‘Show me your gun Mr Halsall. I know that is probably a false name.’ He looked across at her and pulled out his Magnum. ‘Thank you, I just wanted to know how serious you were.’
Brett asked quietly. ‘Do you have any questions m’am?’
‘No I don’t. You know why, don’t you?’
‘Yes m’am. You were an agent of the Secret Service in World War ІІ and served four years in France as one of the greatest spies in history.’ Wolf was staring at Brett in disbelief, the yank knew more about the Brits than the Brit. ‘Your records were exemplary and you received The George Cross for bravery. It was for the action on the day your husband was shot by the Gestapo. If I remember the files, you blew up the bridge at Meaux in order to stop the Nazi advance.’
Grandma was nodding, the memories still made her very sad 68 years later. Her eyes were watering as she replied. ‘Yes my boy. So I know what you are and therefore I also know that what you are telling is true and necessarily vague.’ She sighed deeply, this was a difficult decision. ‘I have no hesitation in saying my Kate can help you out. She is a brave girl and I know she will come home safe.’ Everyone wondered how she could know that but there had been rumours in the village about grandma’s predictions. ‘However, I want to know how serious is this matter that takes our children away?’
Wolf turned to them all. ‘I can only tell you all that it is a time when the whole world is under threat and your children can save it.’ All of them were shocked, but now they realised why they were being asked to allow the impossible. Allowing their children to be used by the government’s Intelligence Services.
The George’s were in a predicament. How could they now refuse to allow Jack and Timmo to be trained when both their friends had already been volunteered? The world was threatened...
Jonathan caved in. ‘Okay guys, but we need a liaison officer. Someone to come and chat every couple of days, even if it is only for a cup of tea. We don’t need the detail, we just want to know they are all safe or...’ he swallowed deeply. There were tears in his eyes. He couldn’t say safe or not.
Wolf acknowledged the emotion. ‘You have my word Mr George. But now we must leave. At 5 am a bus will collect all the children from here. They don’t need to bring anything with them, not even a toothbrush and we will provide suitable clothing at the training centre.’ There were nods all round. ‘Please help us by telling them three things before they leave.’ He slowed his words to make them stick. ‘Firstly, their gaming skills might help the world avoid a catastrophe. Secondly, they are going to a training camp like PGL. A place to have fun. Thirdly, tell them you love them and that you are supporting this decision.’ Wolf and Brett stood immediately. He walked behind Brett to the lounge door held open by Rupert.
Wolf turned back a final time. ‘Please trust my colleague and I. My personal experience of life is without parents and it helps me to understand how you must feel. It also helps me mentor the children over the next few weeks. I promise to do my best for them.’ He swivelled on his heel and joined Brett in the Range Rover to head to their hotel in Chester and a welcome four hours sleep. There was no further discussion to be had. The George’s and grandma walked home in silence.
At 3.45 am, Kate sat on grandma’s rocking chair in the kitchen. There was a single lamp on top of the pine dresser and its light cast eerie shadows.
She spoke to the cat who was cradled in her arms. ‘Sometimes, I swear you can read my mind Wispy. Please take care of grandma for me, she is all I have left.’ She ruffled the fur on the cat’s furry belly as it squirmed on its back and then she placed her on the floor and turned away with tears pouring down her red cheeks. Kate heard grandma coming down the creaky stairs and hastily dried her eyes.
‘I see you’ve been crying Katey? Grandma cuddled her close.
‘It’s the fear of the unknown.’
‘You have nothing to fear my dear. There is no unknown. You and I have our paths which are already set and there is nothing we can do about it.’
Kate thought about the wise words and hugged grandma closer. ‘You always know what is going to happen, don’t you?’
‘Sometimes Kate. In fact most times, if the things are important to you or me. I know that you are doing incredible good for our world and I know that you will return to Wispy and I. That is sufficient knowledge.’ Kate picked up her small bag containing a reading book and some make-up and then she and grandma left the cottage hand in hand to walk to Roger’s house. There was a full moon and it momentarily emerged through a break in the clouds and bathed everything to make it nearly as light as day. Then it went back behind the dark low clouds that forebode rain.
At the mansion, Licko was sat next to Roger. Licko’s dark brown eyes looked extremely sad to Kate as she walked into the lounge and sat beside them both.
She touched Roger’s arm and then ruffled Licko’s head. ‘They say animals sense things.’
‘Urm,’ he wasn’t quite awake.
‘Are you Okay Roger?’
‘Urm.’ She gave up trying to have a conversation as Jack and Timmo waltzed in.
‘Hi, isn’t it fabtastic, that we are going on an adventure.’ Jack was full of excitement.
‘Urm,’ said Roger.
Jack continued. ‘Like on a PGL holiday and even better, training to be spies!’ Kate and Roger hadn’t appreciated that.
‘Spies?’ Asked Roger as he suddenly woke up.
‘Yes, so we can go on a mission to save the world.’ Jack’s mum had told her children a lot more than the other parents. As Jack walked animatedly around the room, Timmo curled up on the sofa and closed his eyes, it was very early for a 9 year-old boy. Kate now had her hands to her mouth, shocked by the enormity of it all, whilst Roger was trying to remember the plot of the last James Bond movie he had watched on his IPad.
They heard a squeak of brakes outside and were soon ushered onto an old military bus to sit uncomfortably on thin brown leather seats. The last hugs with their parents had been too quick and the only words said were ‘be safe’.
* * *
Wolf
had stood by the driver and shook hands with each child as they had climbed aboard. He called them by their surnames alone. Timmo was deemed to be Little George and Jack was just George. They sat quietly and obediently near the front of the bus and were surprised when Wolf introduced the fifth boy, who was hidden in the shadows on the bench seat at the very rear.
‘My name is Wolf and that’s Hines. He’s also on your training course.’ No words were exchanged between the children and they all lapsed into a reverie as the rickety old bus rolled steadily through the early morning dawn as it started to rain lightly. Marshall Hines had woken from a brief nap as the others had climbed quietly aboard. Since being collected from the children’s home, he had used sleep to drive away his fears. His mother had failed to return from work a month previously and when he had gone to the police all they could do was involve the local Social Services team to ensure he was safe in shelter. No one had told him why he was on the bus, he had guessed that he was being taken to another home.
All the children remained awake and chatted quietly, physically well away from Marshall Hines. He felt left out of everything, shunned by the boys and on occasion stared at by the girl; all he could think about was his mum. He missed her desperately and tears poured down his face in the dark. He glanced down the poorly lit bus towards Kit Kat. She was such a girly girl with a yellow and white checked dress and black pumps. He said ‘god knows’ under his breath for the hundredth time and focussed on the never ending road in front of the driver. He had memorised every road sign since leaving London in case he wanted to run back to his home, but what was the point? By now the council would have re-housed someone into their flat.
‘What does SAS stand for?’ said Timmo, ‘Is it an airline or something?’ Hines listened closely for a clue about his new location.
Jack teased his brother. ‘You dimmo, Timmo. SAS means Sausages And Sauce, that’s the only food you are allowed to eat in the training camp.’
‘Urm! Yummy scrummy, I can’t wait to get there and have breakfast then.’ Replied Timmo the complete dimmo. Jack delighted in misinforming his brother but now he had also confused Marshall as well. Roger was looking out of the window and being serious compared to The George brothers. It was pouring with rain by now as they headed southwards on the M50 motorway but the sun occasionally glinted through gaps in the clouds. The spray from passing lorries meant he could barely see the rolling green hills of Herefordshire through the condensation running down the glass of the old army bus.
He corrected his best friend. ‘SAS stands for Special Air Service as you well know Jack. One of the top anti-terrorist units in the world, renowned for their work in Afghanistan for example, when they took out the Taliban HQ in Kandahar. Their motto of course is ‘who dares wins.’
Wolf turned to face them all from his vantage point by the driver, by the door. A place to be defended or a place to prevent escape. There were no other doors on the bus.
‘Heads down everyone! I don’t want any guards or passing soldiers catching site of you inside the camp.’ The five children dutifully squatted behind the seats and stayed in position until ordered to rise by Wolf as the bus pulled up ten minutes later. ‘Out! Shore, you go first.’
‘Why?’ She was feeling peeved by Wolf’s attitude, she didn’t like the use of surnames to address colleagues and certainly not friends. ‘What’s your name then?’
‘Firstly you get out because I told you so, it was an order.’ He wavered slightly, it was a child after all, ‘and secondly because you are a lady and lady’s should always go first.’ As an afterthought he added, ‘My real name is unimportant, everyone just calls me Wolf.’
‘Thank you Mr Wolf’ and she flounced past him and walked down the metal steps. As Kate stepped onto the pavement, she noticed Sergeant Sargent standing on the wet pavement, thankfully the rain had stopped. He was standing to attention with a large burnished stick in his right hand. He cocked his left eye and stared at her before barking an order.
‘Line up next to me please Miss.’ She shuffled next to him and waited for the others to alight. With the boys he was less polite. Each time he barked out an order, ‘come here boy’ or ‘not that way George’, the commands made her jump each time. ‘Hoy! You!’ He stopped Hines walking the wrong way. ‘Now then, now then,’ he prevented Roger from crossing the road as a silver Range Rover pulled up. Eventually the five children were lined up alongside him and the two adults joined them.
‘My name is Brett. This is Sergeant Sargent and we will be looking after you. You have obviously met Wolf who is on the team.’ He gave them a moment to stare around at their surroundings.
Jack was the first to comment. ‘This training camp looks more like a caravan park. A lovely place, just like when we went on our “hols” in Wales last year.’ Wolf looked around sharply and stopped himself asking the boy to remain quiet. He was struggling with the fact they were children being asked to perform an adult’s job. Sergeant Sargent forced the line of children to bundle closer to one another. He too had forgotten they were just kids and not SAS recruits.
Wolf used a softer tone. ‘You are very much mistaken George. This is the holiday from hell. Do you understand?’
Jack gulped. ‘Yes sir.’
Wolf’s reply was still quite hard and cold. ‘Yes Wolf.’ He demanded their respect in the most insignificant of ways.
‘Yes Wolf.’ But Jack wasn’t afraid of him. He was being polite.
Brett stepped in. ‘This is an SAS training facility where you will be taught many exciting new skills. Each day you will receive specialist anti-terrorist training. For example, using aerial ropeways, shooting machine guns, firing bazookas, driving tanks and fast boats etc. Maybe learning to fly and to parachute but only in case of an emergency.’
‘Wow!’ Timmo had finally woken up. ‘Tanks! How fabtastic.’
‘Follow me!’ Wolf led the way into a large cream static caravan labelled St. Davids and turned sharply right towards the rear double bedroom. They stopped again whilst he lifted the foot of the double bed. Instead of stored duvets and sheets, they were astonished to see a wide set of steps lit by a single fluorescent light. ‘Come!’ He was a man of few words as he stepped down without looking back. Sergeant Sargent followed up the rear to ensure no on “got lost”. ‘Sergeant, lower the bed behind you.’
‘Yes sir.’
At the foot of a dozen steps was a passageway. The walls and ceiling were painted with white gloss and the floor was in a dark matt green. It was immaculate without a smudge of dirt. After walking a few hundred metres they came to a metal blast door with a large round handle that Wolf spun anti-clockwise to unlock. It swung open slowly and ponderously to reveal a hive of activity.
He stood in front of the group. ‘You train here and sleep upstairs, okay?’
‘Okay’ came a mumbled reply in unison as the five children stared transfixed by the new underground facilities of the SAS. To their right was a gym and beyond it a boxing ring where two soldiers were sparring. To the left were more than 100 men and women sat in front of a dazzling array of computer screens. Some displays showed aerial shots of Afghanistan taken by the stealth drones circling high above the Taliban camps. The small aeroplanes were controlled by the joysticks mounted in front of the operatives, at a distance of 6000 kilometres from the drone. Other screens monitored SAS soldiers vital symptoms such as heartbeat and brain activity as they mounted an attack against a terrorist base in Southern Yemen. There was too much to take in, but at the centre of the facility was a training operation that excited Jack and Timmo and made Roger and Kit Kat swoon with fright. Soldiers were leaping off a 100 metre high tower with a bungee cord fastened to their ankles. Free falling with their arms outstretched, they reached the limits of the rubber cord and stopped within a few centimetres of the floor before bouncing back. This gave them time to grab the blissfully unaware sheep that was bleating plaintively beneath them. As the soldier jerked upwards, the sheep was clasped safely in his arm
s but was jerking about trying to free itself from his strong arms.
Jack spoke first. ‘How cool is that! But why the woolly whiner?’
Wolf explained. ‘A large Welsh sheep, preferably four years old, gives the best feel for a real human being. It struggles and shouts and so do our captives sometimes,’ he glanced at Kit Kat who was deathly white, ‘and women must also learn “the snatch” as we call it.’
‘Because?’ she said.
‘Because whether from a helicopter or a bridge we may need to snatch back hostages or snatch the baddies. Okay?’ She didn’t reply, the concept had made her stricken with fear. ‘Right, let’s get some breakfast. How about it Sergeant?’
‘Yes sir!’ The sergeant spoke in a loud bellow, he had no volume control. Ironically, the only food left in the soldiers Mess were sausages and brown or tomato sauce as jokingly predicted by Jack.
Marshall sat next to the other children for the first time and chatted. It was Kate who asked him where he lived, did he like the “world domination” game and what did he think of the training camp. He gave her short answers but at least he and they felt more of a group, especially when the ice was broken by Timmo. The dimmo squeezed the ketchup bottle towards his brother and the top dropped off, squirting the red mess over nearly everyone. They all laughed together and that was a start.
* * *
After breakfast, they assembled under a large oak tree in the centre of the caravan park. There could be no prying eyes as the high fence extended all around the camp and was a minimum of 3 kilometres distant. The fence line also had fast growing conifers planted outside of it and all the SAS trainees living in the outermost caravans wore casual holiday clothes. It was a perfect ruse. Underneath the oak tree was a 20 metre square mat.
The sergeant started their training. ‘Right you lot, can any of you scrap?’
‘Scrap?’ said Roger, ‘whatever do you mean by that?’
‘I mean fight my little Toff. Have any of you had a fight at school and more importantly did you win?’