Caroline thought about this for a moment and decided that no, she really just wanted to sit here drinking this nice wine she'd found in the galley.
'Drinking before noon?' asked Tariq.
'Unless you have any other painkillers to hand, I'll stick with tried and tested if that's okay with you.'
The Iraqi reached out and took the bottle from her. She glared at him, eyes narrowed.
'No, it's not okay,' he said sternly. 'The only thing worse than a sixteen year-old girl with a gun and an itchy trigger finger is a drunk sixteen year-old girl with a gun and an itchy trigger finger.'
'Jesus,' said Caroline as she stood. 'Listen to Jeremy fucking Kyle. Fine, I'll lend a hand.'
She limped past him and climbed the staircase to the luxury cabins that sat on the floor above.
She pushed open the cabin door and found Wilkes and Green standing over two men sat on the double bed, hands tied behind their backs.
'Have they agreed to help yet?' she asked.
Wilkes shook his head. 'Not yet, but they…'
Caroline pulled a kitchen knife from her belt and before the Ranger could stop her, she leaned forward and thrust it deep into the heart of the captive nearest to her. His mouth formed an O of surprise and he let out a strangled gasp, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped against the wall, stone dead.
Caroline pulled out the knife, wiped it on the sleeve of her coat and turned to the other man on the bed.
'We can do this without you, you know,' she said calmly. 'Your only chance to live another minute is to agree to help us. Otherwise we'll go to plan B. What do you say?'
He nodded in mute horror. Caroline patted his cheek chummily.
'Good man.'
As she withdrew her hand she noticed that she'd smeared his face with blood. She pointed to her cheek. 'You've got a little spot there,' she said, helpfully. Then she walked out, passing Tariq who stood in the doorway, slack jawed.
'Fucking hell. That girl scares me,' said Green once he'd got his breath back.
'Oh, I dunno,' said Tariq. 'I kind of like her.'
Caroline limped down the stairs. When she reached the bottom she heard heavy footsteps following behind her.
Wilkes emerged and grabbed her arm, pulling her through business class and into the cockpit. He slammed the door and stood before it, arms folded, face red with fury.
Caroline remained composed.
'The last time an adult locked himself in a room with me, I cut out his heart with this knife,' she said. 'So be aware, if your hand goes anywhere near your zip, you'll lose it. And I don't mean your hand.'
Having dragged her in here to give her a piece of his mind, Wilkes found himself momentarily speechless. But he found his tongue eventually.
'Did you see the body count out there?' he asked.
Caroline nodded.
'Those were children,' said the Ranger. 'Children! They should never have been put in that position. A battlefield is no place for a child. We can't go forward with this plan, not after this. I'm calling it off. I'm only sorry I didn't do this sooner, then maybe some of those kids would still be alive. But this ends. Now.'
'Oh really,' replied Caroline, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 'Well that's good to know. Pass that message on to the snatchers, would you? Give them a good talking to about it. I'm sure they'll stop the kidnapping then.'
'Fighting them is a job for men,' said Wilkes.
'No, you sanctimonious fucker, it's a job for boys and girls,' yelled Caroline. 'It's not grown ups they're kidnapping. It's kids. This is our fight, their fight. Not yours. You're the outsider here.' She stabbed him the chest with her index finger, jutting her chin out and shouting in his face. 'Since The Cull I've met one — ONE! — adult who hasn't tried to fuck me over. Every other predatory bastard out there thinks I'm either cattle to be bartered for food or a warm body to use and toss away. So don't you fucking dare, Mr high and mighty grown up man, tell me that children have no place in the front line. Because it's you lot who've bloody put us there. And believe me: every adult we meet is going to regret standing by and letting that happen. What does the bible say — The children shall inherit? Well that starts right now and you're either with me or against me. So shut up and help or fuck off out of my way. Because I promise you, if you try and stop me I will kill you dead.'
She was breathing hard and furious when she finished her tirade, staring into Wilkes' eyes, all challenge and fire.
He stepped to one side and let her pass without saying a word, knowing that there was nothing he could possibly say.
They got all the children off the plane and gathered them together on the hanger floor. Green had done a head count and taken note of all their ages, so again they divided them by age. There were 132 kids under 13 amongst the 298 surviving captives. Green wanted to give one of his rousing speeches, but Tariq shook his head.
'Just let them choose,' he said.
So the 166 remaining kids were given a choice to join the fight or leave with the youngsters. 45 of them chose to leave, too traumatised by the massacre they'd just witnessed. They joined the younger kids in two lorries and were sent back to St Mark's, driven to safety by the two surviving Rangers.
A third lorry, driven by one of the older kids, carried the corpses back for burial.
That left 121 new recruits who were again divided by age. 52 of them were over 16, and they were each given a firearm and an hour's group training in the hanger. The rest were set loose in the airport on a mad scavenger hunt for weapons; they returned with an impressive array of metal bars, chains and knives.
The sun was setting when they gathered by the lorries that were painted with the red circles. Wilkes stepped forward and shot the lorries up a bit, making it look as if they'd survived an attack. Then the army of children hid their weapons under their clothes, piled into the containers and got ready for war.
As Tariq watched the kids climb into the containers her felt a tug at his jacket and turned to find a familiar face looking up at him.
'They won't give me a gun,' pouted Jenni.
Tariq smiled, glad to see she was still alive. 'That's because you're still only thirteen.'
'But you gave me a gun before and I managed not to accidentally shoot anybody with it' she said. 'Please, Tariq. Pretty please.'
He reached into his kitbag and handed her a Browning. 'Okay, but don't tell the guy with the bow and arrow, all right?'
The girl went up on tiptoes and kissed Tariq on the cheek. 'You're a sweetheart,' she said.
The Iraqi was surprised to find himself blushing. Jenni secreted the gun inside her coat, but didn't move to join the other kids in the lorry. She glanced around furtively, as if looking for someone, then pulled him down the side of the lorry, out of sight.
'Listen,' she said. 'There's something you should know about John Keegan…'
The surviving snatcher was installed behind the driver's seat of the lead vehicle. He was in his mid-thirties, solid and capable looking, dressed in combats. Tariq thought that if he'd had to kill one of the captives, this is the one he'd have killed; the one Caroline stabbed had been snivelling and broken. This one was more composed. The Iraqi sat beside him, knife in his lap.
'Here's what you have to do,' he said. 'You lead the convoy to Parliament. If we're challenged when we arrive, you say Heathrow came under attack by unknown forces and you managed to escape. All we want to do is get inside the perimeter fence. Once we're in, I swear you'll be free to go. Understand?'
The snatcher nodded and turned the ignition.
They drove through the night, making slow progress down roads clogged with vehicles abandoned by the fleeing masses during The Culling Year.
The snow came down in thick, solid looking flakes, reducing visibility and making the going harder as they
