“I’m proud of you, son,” said Dad.
“I love, you, Lee,” said Jane.
I felt myself floating free of my body.
“Sod this,” said the voice in my head, pulling me back to reality. “I’m not having this at all. Pull yourself together, Nine Lives. Don’t be such a loser. Wake the fuck up, find a way out of this, and castrate this motherfucker, or I’ll come back from the dead and do it my bloody self.”
I COULD HEAR a voice. I listened carefully, assuring myself that it was external. The accent was American but the voice was unfamiliar.
I was still tied up, my leg was wet with blood and I hurt all over. My head felt like it was going to burst. I tried to open my eyes but found only one of them would respond; the other was swollen shut.
“…spied her rounding up the children,” the voice was saying.
Squinting, one-eyed, through the blood, I saw the general standing by his desk talking to someone I couldn’t make out.
“I’m sorry, Sir, I don’t understand,” he said. “What exactly am I supposed to do with the children we capture?”
“Put ’em on a plane to New York, General. We have need of them here.”
I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like the voice was coming from a speaker. Of course — he was on the video link, talking to his bosses in America. But it wasn’t the president this time, merely one of his subordinates.
“Let me be clear,” said the general. “We’re in a position to impose rule of law on this whole island, but the primary objective of our occupation of Britain is to capture all the children and ship them to America?”
“Yes, General.”
“May I ask why, Sir?”
“You may not,” said the man, smugly. “Those are your orders and you will carry them out. Am I to understand that you have an issue with this directive?”
“I just don’t understand, Sir. We’ve spilt a lot of blood getting to this point. I’ve done some things… some things I’m not entirely comfortable with. A new beginning, he said. A new American empire, won through force of arms but proceeding in justice. Those were the president’s exact words to me, Sir.”
“Don’t quote the president to me, General.”
“But how is that to be achieved by rounding up children?”
“That’s not your concern, soldier,” barked the man. “I possess information that you do not. There is a bigger picture here and you will play your part. That is your job, General, lest you forget. I am your commander-in-chief and I have given you a direct order that you will obey. Is that clear?”
There was a long silence.
“I said is that clear?” shouted the man.
“Yes, Sir,” replied the general quietly.
“Then snap to it, soldier.”
I tried to turn my head to see how Tariq was doing, but I got shooting pains in my neck every time I tried, so I gave up. Eventually I managed to open my good eye fully and I saw the general turning off the video conference.
“Trouble with management?” I asked, my voice sounding weak even to myself.
The general turned to face me, his face troubled and uneasy. “You still alive?”
“My granddad….” I broke off in a fit of coughing that brought blood up into my mouth. I spat it out, took a ragged breath, and went on. “My granddad was a soldier. Major General. He told me an army is only as good as the orders it receives. Who’s giving your orders, General? ’Cause from where I’m sitting, it sounds like your boss is a crazy old fucker who might just be the world’s biggest paedophile. And if you’re taking orders from him, that makes you the world’s biggest kiddie pimp. Ask yourself, General, is that what you signed up for?”
Blythe walked over to me and stared into my face, studying me. He was calmer now, his fury spent. “Who the hell are you, boy? The things you do, the way you talk. I can’t decide whether you’re the bravest soldier I ever met, or some kind of lunatic.”
I laughed, but it sounded more like a dying gasp. “I told you, General. I’m just a boy trying to protect my family.”
“I think I’m starting to believe you.”
“What are you trying to protect, General? What’s your endgame?”
“Same as it ever was, son,” he said firmly. “Freedom.”
“And this is freedom, to you? Torture, massacre, impaling civilians on stakes, burning them alive in football stadiums, killing your own son when he questions your motives. This is your freedom?”
He shook his head, momentarily allowing the doubt and weariness to show on his granite face. “No, son, it isn’t.”
“So what’s this all for?” I yelled. “Why are you following these orders?”
“Because I’m a soldier, it’s all I know how to do. It’s what I am, a thing that follows orders, no matter what the cost. I don’t know how to stop.” He paused and then said softly “‘I am in blood stepped so far that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o’er.’”
He stepped back then, shook his head, took his handgun from his desk and raised it so it was pointing right between my eyes.
“I’m sorry, son. Close your eyes.”
I shook my head as much as I was able. “No, General. Eyes open.”
“So be it.”
He squeezed the trigger, the hammer retracted, and I waited for the impact that would end me.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“HELLO? ANYBODY THERE?”
The voice crackled out of my left trouser pocket.
The general narrowed his eyes. “Thought you’d come alone.” He put the gun down and fished the radio out of my trouser pocket. It was slick with blood, and he wiped it clean on my other trouser leg.
“Lee, Tariq, you there?” It was Jack. I cursed inwardly. So they’d ignored my instructions and waited for us, which meant that now they’d be captured and all of this would have been for nothing.
The general held the radio up to his mouth and pressed the transmit button. “I’m afraid the boys can’t come to the phone right now. Can I take a message?”
For a few seconds all we heard was the crackle of static and then Jack said “Good morning, General.” He was keeping a cool head. Good. “Are they still alive?”
“The boy is. The Iraqi” — he glanced at Tariq — “is still breathing. Don’t know if he’ll be doing that for much longer. To whom am I speaking?”
“You’re addressing the rightful King of England, General. I rule this country, and you are not welcome here.”
What the hell was his game? He should know by now that this was not a man you bluffed. I sat there, powerless to intervene, terrified for my friends. I hoped Jack knew what he was doing.
The general laughed. “Son, you sound about fifteen.”
“I’m not the first fifteen-year-old king of England, General. And I won’t be the last. I’m calling to give you a simple choice.”
Blythe rolled his eyes for me, a moment of theatre. Then, grinning, he said “Your Majesty?”
“Leave now. Get in your planes and go back to America. Or I will destroy you and your army utterly.” His voice wavered, betraying his nervousness. He didn’t quite pull it off, and the effect was awkward rather than threatening.
For a moment the general was too stunned to respond. Then he began to laugh, a deep, rich, booming laugh. “My God, you Brits really know how to raise your kids!”
“Unlike you, General,” I said pointedly. That stopped his laugher abruptly.
He flashed me a look of pure hatred and spoke into the radio again. “How exactly do you propose to destroy me, young Majesty? You’ve got no army left. I’ve seen to that.”
“He’s got me, you bastard.” That was Rowles, and he sounded anything but nervous. “And that’s all he needs.”