true.
'I thought you were a blogger, not a psychoanalyst,' I said with a wry smile.
He nodded sadly. 'I think I am now a soldier, Miss Crowther. I think these days we all are, no matter what we may have been before.'
'I don't want to be a soldier. Neither does Lee.'
'I know. But the truth is, from what I hear of you, that you are both very good at it.'
'Ha! Have you looked at the pair of us? We're in bloody pieces.'
'But you are still standing.' He looked up at the wheelchair, realised his mistake, and actually blushed. 'I mean, you know what I mean. Sorry.'
I laughed out loud. 'Don't worry about it. Look, you may be right but I won't accept it. I'm not a soldier, neither is Lee. We're just normal people trying to get a little peace. That's all. I have to believe that one day we'll be left alone.'
He shook his head sadly and said: 'Not while General Blythe is in command, you won't. He'll be more convinced than ever that you're a threat now. He doesn't like loose ends. We have two choices: we destroy him or we run.'
I was too tired to respond to that stark assessment. He rose and pushed me back towards the main house.
'Come on,' he said. 'Time for breakfast.'
I still wasn't ready to face the school, so we had breakfast in the kitchens. Lee was there, sullenly refusing to meet my eye. He, Jamal, Tariq and I feasted on scrambled eggs with fresh basil, and Mrs Atkins and Justin explained what had happened while I'd been unconscious in the sick bay of the school.
They had returned to Groombridge on their own to make sure it wasn't occupied by another group while the others remained at Fairlawne. Then Sanders, Jack and I rolled up to the door. Sanders insisted that Jack be taken to Fairlawne and kept safe, and Justin took him. Mrs Atkins and Sanders made me as comfortable as they could, but neither of them had medical training and I was in a very bad way. That night the Americans arrived in force. Sanders didn't even try to fight, recognising a lost cause when he saw one. Instead, he changed into civvies and pretended to be a farmer. I'd been in a car crash, he told the soldiers. It might have worked, but unfortunately he used my name as part of the cover story. There was no way he could have known they were looking for me, so why give me a pseudonym?
They started torturing him almost immediately. Mrs Atkins was locked up and I was taken away for emergency surgery. At some point Sanders must have broken enough to tell them he was SAS, but it seemed he'd told them nothing else. The Yanks certainly didn't know about Fairlawne or Jack.
It broke my heart to think what Sanders must have gone through. They didn't kill him for two weeks.
Once the school was secured most of the soldiers had gone back to Salisbury, leaving the school apparently exposed, luring Lee and the others into a trap.
And now the choice that faced us was simple: fight or flight. None of us could make our minds up.
'Run where?' asked Lee. 'If what Matron's told us about Operation Motherland is true, Blythe's got overwhelming firepower and resources at his command, not to mention a well-drilled army. First he'll begin by terrorising the local population, like he did in Basra. Then he'll start recruiting and training. It won't be long before he takes control of the whole of southern England.
'We could head for the continent, I suppose,' I said. 'It might be the best option.'
'We stayed and fought in Basra,' said Tariq. 'And John and I are the only survivors. If we try to fight the Americans it is most likely we will all end up with stakes through our chests. And I would like to avoid that if at all possible.'
'Even if we do decide to leave, I won't leave Rowles and Caroline there and that's final,' I said firmly. 'Tariq, you've no ties here, you're free to go whenever you wish. But I will get those children to safety or die trying.'
Tariq held my gaze for a moment then inclined his head, a small gesture of acknowledgment and respect. 'Lee?'
Lee stared at me as if from a million miles away, finally acknowledging my presence. I held his gaze and smiled a small, sad smile. His face softened and he nodded.
'Yeah, okay,' he said. 'I owe Rowles my life several times over. We get him and Caroline out.'
'Good,' I said. 'Then…'
'But that's all,' said Lee. 'You're right, Jane, we can't win this. I'm not starting a war. I don't care about revenge or justice or any of it. I'll go rescue my friends and then Dad and me are going somewhere far away from all of this. It's not my fight. Not any more.'
'Fair enough,' I said, hoping that I could persuade him to change his mind but knowing this was not the moment to try. 'Tariq?'
The Iraqi sighed heavily and shook his head. 'Fucking death wish,' he muttered. Then he shrugged. 'What the hell. I'm in. Jamal?'
'No, Sir,' said the soldier. 'I'll be hitting the road in the morning. See if I can't get to London, maybe find a way home.'
Lee reached across and shook the American's hand. 'Thank you for everything,' he said. 'And good luck.'
'You too.' He drained his mug and bid us goodbye.
'So what's the plan?' asked Tariq.
There was a long silence.
'I think we ought to talk to the king,' I said. 'But first, let's go join the school, shall we?'
Lee
Jane insisted on walking into the dining room but she needed assistance, so I held her arm as she shuffled in.
When the children saw us they all rose to their feet and cheered, clapping their hands, whooping and hollering. Some of the little ones ran forward, arms wide, and I had to help her bend down so she could hug them. Green walked up to me, shook my hand, and told me how glad he was to see me. It was nice to be back amongst friends. When I helped Jane stand up again her eyes were brimming with tears. She waved everyone to sit down and I led her to the high table where she sat to address the school.
'Thank you all, so much,' she said, uncharacteristically emotional. She wiped her eyes and laughed. 'Sorry. As you can see I've been in the wars a bit since I left. But I'm going to be fine and I'm not going to be leaving the school again any time soon.' More cheers. 'But we have a problem, and I'm going to let Lee explain it to you.'
I stepped to the front of the table and began my story, starting with my arrival in Iraq and leaving nothing out. They were children, but they needed to know what we were up against. Nobody made a sound when I had finished. I then handed the floor back to Jane, who told her tale, bringing the school up to date, omitting only to mention the king, who she had subtly pointed out to me as we entered, sitting comfortably with the senior boys.
'So here's what we're going to do,' she said finally. 'Lee is going to lead a rescue mission to recover Rowles and Caroline. It's important that you know we would do the same for any and all of you. We won't leave our children behind. But when Lee returns with them – and he will – we don't know what the future may hold. It's not over yet, but we promise we will keep you safe whatever it takes. In the meantime, classes as usual.' There were some good natured groans, and breakfast resumed, the hum of conversation rising until it was almost deafening.
'Let's get out of here and go somewhere quieter,' said Jane. As we walked to the door she looked over and gave the king a nod. The boy rose and left by another door.
We had plans to make.
'These are the petrol tankers,' said King Jack, pointing at the large map he'd drawn for us. 'There are hundreds of them, all full. Here we have the tanks, here the non-armoured motor vehicles, and here the fire engines and ambulances. To the north is the parade ground, and this whole swathe of buildings is the barracks. Then we've got the shooting ranges here and here, the training ground here, mess, medical centre and MP station. That may be where any prisoners are being held, in the cells. This is the main admin building, so it's probably where the general has his office. Then out further east you've got the houses and flats, accommodation for married couples and officers.'
'And what's this?' I asked, pointing to a red cross next to the admin building.
'That is the main entrance to the tunnels. There's another one here,' he drew another cross by a firing range.
