Tamsin Beech Ch. 04: Birmingham

"I'll wash your hair," he offered, by way of an apology.

"Good, and so you should," she replied, then leaned towards him over the side of the tub, "and for that you deserve a kiss."

Tamsin's soft, trembling lips met his, her small tongue pushing between his teeth, pressing some of Craster's own essence into his mouth. He met her tongue with his own and swallowed, savouring the salty, musky flavour and kissed her back, "I ... think I'm ... falling in love with you."

Tamsin scoffed, "The word you're after ... is lust. Now, get back in your own tub before my parents and Major Denisovich get back."

PART FOUR: COUNCIL

The council of Novaya Nadezhda's resistance movement met in a natural rock amphitheatre at the western end of the canyon. A huge slab of rock that had plummeted into the depths and wedged itself against the canyon walls provided a roof, giving protection from the elements but rendering the meeting place dark and gloomy. Oil lamps spaced around the walls gave sufficient light, but cast dancing shadows across the surrounding rock, causing veins of quartz and feldspar to sparkle.

Relying on Craster to keep their prisoner covered with his AK47, Leonid Denisovich was permitted to go unrestrained. Ross Beech led the way past a pair of heavily armed sentries, followed by Merida and Tamsin.

Whether or not Leonid would retain his freedom was soon to be decided.

Both Tamsin and Craster had been given new wardrobes. Patched, functional trousers that actually fit them, t-shirts, hand knitted jumpers and goretex mountain jackets that may have had a dozen previous owners since their manufacture. Also resoled boots, socks and snoods with which to cover their faces when negotiating the smoke filled eastern end of the canyon.

The floor of the thirty foot diameter amphitheatre was occupied by an enormous oak legged table covered entirely with a detailed map of the UK. From the ominous red circle that marked where Penzance had once been at the western tip of Cornwall to the cross hatching over the highlands of Scotland and border regions that denoted Reiver or Reekie territory, every known community and Coalition outpost was clearly labelled. Coloured blocks of wood - blue for resistance, red for Coalition were scattered across the map denoting current troop movements and location of resistance cells.

"You realise ... that if you're not welcome, you won't be allowed to live after seeing this?" Ross warned quietly near Leonid's ear. It was a shame. In another life he guessed he could have become friends with the Russian. But when the man's loyalties were still in question it was better to err on the side of caution.

The council members weren't at all what Tamsin had been expecting. Rather than fierce and imposing warrior types, they appeared to be just normal people - middle aged much like her parents or possibly older.

"Thank you for seeing me at such short notice," said Ross, addressing all three of them at once.

The first, a balding man with a beard and careworn face took a step forward. He wore a faded black uniform with brass buttons and bands of shining gold braid around the sleeve cuffs. Ross had explained beforehand that this was Lieutenant Commander Burfield, who had led a revolt of navy officers against Jack Aubrey's thugs after the HMS Poseidon had left Devonport four years earlier.

"Not at all Mr Beech," Burfield shook him warmly by the hand, "welcome back. You'll have noticed our fourth council member isn't here. An unfortunate incident with a Coalition patrol near Warwick ... so you'll have to make do with just the three of us."

Merida held on tightly to Myrtle's lead as she whispered to Tamsin, "This is like an audition for 'Britain's Got Talent.'"

The remark was lost on Tamsin. Obviously some reference to a forgotten piece of pre-Thanatos culture. Burfield continued, "Is everything well at the steelworks?"

Ross smiled awkwardly, "Not exactly sir. Circumstances have ... forced me to leave."

The old naval officer looked shocked, "Leave? You mean abandon your post?"

Ross thought it best to change the subject, "Sir, before we go any further I'd like to introduce some people."

"By all means," Burfield picked up a dented tin mug from the map table and took a sip.

"This ... is my wife, Merida Beech. She was captured in Berwick Upon Tweed during the invasion," Ross began. He paused for a heartbeat, "... you'll all know her better as ... Merida Zakhvatchikov."

A second council member leaned towards them over the enormous table, sending a red wooden marker in the shape of a tank skittering across the map. She was a grey haired woman in her late sixties who Ross had already introduced as Samantha Catley - the ex Defence Minister from back when the UK still had things like MPs, "Zakhvatchikov's daughter! You brought her HERE?"

Ross forged on regardless, "There's more," he indicated Tamsin, "this is my daughter, Tamsin ..."

Burfield laughed, a bitter, humourless sound, "Haha! Tamsin Zakhvatchikov. The president's granddaughter. The entire Coalition will be out hunting for these two. Don't you bloody realise that?"

Ross ignored him and continued, "This is Craster who helped my daughter escape from General Volk on Lindisfarne ..."

The council members barely glanced at Craster.

"... and finally, I'd like to introduce you to ... Major Leonid Denisovich."

The third council member present, an overweight man with a huge walrus moustache wheezed from beside the table, wiping a sheen of sweat from his ruddy face, "You've ... brought the three most wanted people ... in the entire country, here ... to Novaya Nadezhda. What the blue blazes were you thinking man?"

Ross addressed the man directly. All the resistance knew that Kenneth Turkle had once been a senior officer in the UK's military. But his exact job description had been so top secret that no-one at Novaya Nadezhda knew for certain what it had been, "They won't find us," Ross assured him,"no-one has even come close in four years ..."

"What about our scout's report?" Catley countered, "it came in barely an hour ago. A description of a Coalition APC ... abandoned in a ruined supermarket in Atherstone ... with directions scratched on the side?"

Ross looked stunned, "Directions? What directions?" he turned slowly to Leonid, as realisation dawned, "you lying piece of shit. THAT'S how Volk's men found us on the road."

Tamsin was stunned. She'd been almost starting to trust the Russian.

"The directions have been erased," Cayley continued.

But Ross wasn't listening, he shoved Leonid roughly in the chest, "You ... tipped them off. Then you killed them all to make it appear you're on our side."

Leonid took a step back, looking bewildered, "It wasn't me, I swear ..."

"IT WAS ME!"

Everyone in the amphitheatre turned as one towards Craster, as the skinny youth retreated towards the edge of the chamber brandishing his Kalashnikov.

"You?" Tamsin gasped in disbelief, "why?"

"V-volk has my family in one of their c-camps. He said if I didn't do as he said they'd die."

Ross was fuming. He shoved past Leonid, "YOU? All this time you've been a Coalition spy? What ... what exactly were your orders?"

Craster levelled the weapon at Ross to prevent him coming any closer, "Keep an eye on your d-daughter. B-but after all the beatings I'd had enough. I helped her escape."

Tamsin glowered, feeling embarrassed and ashamed at the thought of what they'd shared, "And now? Is Craster even your real name?"

"Craster village was where I was picked up. Arrested for stealing food. I was fucking starving. But all that's gonna change ... I've g-got enough information for Volk to release my fa-family. I've got the president's d-daughter and granddaughter. I've got the traitor and I've got the whereabouts of the resistance."

"And how are you going to get back to Volk with all that? Do you think we're just going to let you walk?" Lieutenant Commander Burfield shouted.

Craster paled.

Ross calmly held out his hand, "It's over kid. Give me the gun."

Craster backed away, "NO!"

TAKATAKATAK!

A wildly aimed burst of fire from Craster's weapon sprayed across the map table. Burfield jerked as bullets tore through his chest, Catley dropped like a stone as a round blew the top of her head away.

Leonid scrambled towards Tamsin, spinning her around as he snatched Nasilnikov's Grach tucked into her belt ...

Across the room, Turkle tried to dive for cover, but hampered by his considerable bulk was way too slow ...

TAKATAKATAK!

His bullet riddled corpse slammed face first into the table then slumped to the ground.

"DROP YOUR WEAPON ... OR I SHOOT!" Leonid screamed at Craster, aiming the Grach in a two handed grip.

Craster looked terrified. He shook his head and raised the Kalashnikov ...

BLAM!

... and dropped dead with a nine millimetre bullet hole in his forehead.

The sentries from the council chamber's entrance came charging in to investigate the shooting, both aiming antique SA80s at Leonid, "ON THE GROUND! ON THE FUCKING GROUND! HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!"

Tamsin stared open mouthed in shock as Leonid dropped the handgun and did as he was told, lying facedown with arms outstretched.

PART FIVE: FURTHER EDUCATION

The bodies of Craster and the council members were taken away. As the only reliable eye witness, Ross Beech explained what had transpired. No-one in Novaya Nadezhda would believe the daughter and granddaughter of their sworn enemy's commander in chief. Or an ex Spetsnaz major still dressed in full Coalition uniform for that matter.

Extra lookouts were immediately posted to guard Birmingham's eastern approaches. The helicopter and troops they'd dealt with might not have been the only ones to read Craster's clues.

"I ... owe you an apology," Ross told Leonid Denisovich, looking him squarely in the eye as he spoke, "I was wrong about you."

"I would have treated you exactly the same way," Leonid admitted.

"All the same. I haven't thanked you for bringing my wife and daughter back to me yet. If there's anything I can do, anything at all ... just let me know."

Leonid clapped a hand on the older man's shoulder, and laughed, "I could do with some clothes. Walking around this place in a Coalition uniform is attracting the wrong kind of attention."

. . .

Tamsin was stunned. She'd had no idea the youth she'd known as Craster had been working for Volk. Admittedly she'd had suspicions back at the beginning but had pushed them to the back of her mind, obsessed as she was with the problem of escaping the island.

What drove someone to throw their lot in with the enemy? Craster had said he'd been starving, his family imprisoned and threatened with death if he didn't follow Volk's orders. He'd been desperate. Without knowing his real name, Craster's family would be untraceable, impossible to find. She suspected they'd be executed right away when it became obvious he'd disappeared.

"No-one should have to live in that kind of fear," Tamsin murmured.

"What was that?" Merida asked. They'd been sat together in the amphitheatre in silence, watching the clean up operation and waiting for Ross to return. Tamsin's father seemed to have quickly taken charge of the situation - a natural leader and organiser.

Tamsin shook her head, not realising she'd spoken aloud, "Nothing. Mum, I've been thinking. I ... want to be part of the resistance. I've not realised before just how bad things are under the occupation. I want to learn to shoot ... and fight. Like Aunt Jessamy. I want to make a difference."

Merida nodded, thoughtful, "Your father and I guessed you'd say something like that Tamz. It's your decision of course. But you'll need a teacher. And in case General Volk and your grandfather come here looking for you, we're sending you away somewhere safe."

"Sending me away?" Tamsin pushed herself to her feet.

Merida continued, scratching the dog Myrtle's neck as she spoke, "We can't let you fall into your grandfather's hands. We're going to ask Leonid to take you far away from here. At least until the heat's died down enough for you to return. The resistance will be in turmoil. They've lost their leadership all at once ... and someone is going to have to replace them."

Tamsin spread her hands, not caring who overheard, "I don't trust Leonid, mum. He's a Coalition butcher. One of their elite killers. If you remember he was about to shoot us both in cold blood ..."

Merida reached out and took hold of her daughter's hand, "That's why we've chosen him. He's the best. But the resistance won't want him around either. To them he's the enemy. I love you Tamz. And I want you to be able to take care of yourself. When your Aunt Jessamy and Hamnavoe went after Jack Aubrey I thought that would be an end to all the violence in the world. There'd be no need for guns and knives and killing anymore. But I was wrong. Until my father, President Zakhvatchikov ... is forced out of Britain for good, people like Major Denisovich are who we have to rely on."

Tamsin looked deep into her mother's green blue eyes. Like staring at a reflection, an image of how she'd look in another twenty five years time. Crow's feet, one or two grey hairs but still beautiful, her lustrous red curls framing her oval shaped face.

She nodded, "I'll go. I'm putting you all in danger staying here. I don't trust Major Denisovich ... but if he's your choice then I'll respect that. I only wish we'd had more time together mum."

Merida pulled Tamsin in close for a hug, "There'll be plenty of time when you get back."

THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR

2062, seven years later ...

General Volk stepped back from his bookcase, flicking through a paperback travel guide - the kind that would have been popular with foreign tourists to the UK before Thanatos. To better understand the culture and geography of the United Kingdom, he'd amassed a collection covering the entire country. He cracked the book's spine and placed it open on the desk in front of his guest, "Is that it?"

The pencil sketch discovered near Derby only showed part of the bull sculpture, but comparing it to a photo of the actual thing standing at the entrance to a bustling shopping centre, there could be no doubt they were the same. Kim Napp Gylan nodded.

"Birmingham. One place we've never looked in four fucking years of occupation," Volk slammed a fist against the desktop, "but thinking about it ... it's so obvious! How do you wish to proceed comrade?"

Kim Napp Gylan smiled wolfishly, glad that the effort of personally tracking the rebels all the way to Derby had paid off, "If your president is in agreement, I'd like to contact the aircraft carrier Baekdusan and send targeting coordinates ..."

. . .

"You do realise when I get you back to Novaya Nadezhda, I'm not letting you out of our bed for at least a week," Leonid hopped over gorse bushes sprouting from the cracked road surface as they approached the ruined town of Atherstone.

It was dusk, and unseasonal snow flurries blowing down from the north were reducing visibility somewhat, making the four of them edgy.

"I have to get the list to the council first," Tamsin responded, "see if they recognise any of the names. The Turkle guy on it ... if you remember he was one of the council members Craster shot."

Leonid Denisovich nodded as he thumbed the safety off on his AK12. There weren't many places better suited for an ambush than the crumbling ruins of old streets, "I remember. Tolstyy paren? Uh ... the fat guy? Why else would he have all the schematics for the Soteria project in his quarters if he wasn't a part of it?"

"Why indeed? But it gave us the steer to go looking for the list didn't it?" Tamsin drew her Grach handgun, flattening herself against the side of a house as they reached Station Street. Across the road, McTavish the Reekie scout and the Irishman, Cooper, crept stealthily forward as she and Leonid scanned the surrounding buildings.

Nature was gradually overtaking and obliterating everything humanity had built in the town. Saplings erupted from gutters and walls, trailing vines and ivy encased charred wrecks of vehicles and many of the main streets were now hidden by knee high grass and wildflowers. Red campion, buttercups, poppies and foxgloves where once there had been parking meters and pavements.

Cooper raised a hand to signal all clear.

Atherstone had become a stop off for resistance fighters heading back to or out from the hidden canyon of Novaya Nadezhda. Situated roughly a day's hard march across rugged terrain from the resistance HQ, it had become the logical place to spend one last night out in the open.

"Aldi?" Leonid suggested.

"Yeah," Tamsin nodded lightly, then froze ...

"What is it?" Leonid whispered, sensing her disquiet.

Tamsin crouched, rotating on the balls of her feet, "Something's not right. There are no birds. Something's scared them off."

Across the street, McTavish had come to the same conclusion. He'd caught Cooper by his jacket collar and dragged him down behind an upturned DPD delivery van.

"You're fucking Spetsnaz. Why didn't you notice?" Tamsin spat accusingly, "too fucking busy thinking about getting your leg over as usual."

Leonid shrugged, "What can I say? It's only the thought of your body that keeps me ..."

"FREEZE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!"

Cooper poked his head out of cover, looking terrified as he tried to pinpoint the source of the voice. Tamsin rolled her eyes, "This again?"

"I REPEAT! DROP YOUR WEAPONS ... NOW!"

Tamsin slipped the Grach back into her shoulder rig and walked calmly out into the middle of the road, "Or what?"

"OR YOU CAN GET STRAIGHT TO YOUR ROOM WHEN WE GET HOME ... TAMSIN BEECH."

From the smashed in front of the Aldi supermarket at the end of the row, Ross Beech, Merida and their usual contingent of four bodyguards stepped into the road and began picking their way towards them.

Tamsin's face broke into a wide grin as she ran forward, "Hey ..."

She wrapped her arms tightly around her father's neck and hugged him, "I've missed you so much! But the ambush thing is starting to get old, dad."

Ross patted her back with his one hand, "I expect a little more professionalism from our soldiers Miss Beech. Especially as you're a member of the council."

Tamsin released her father and hugged Merida, stinging tears of relief gathering in the corners of her eyes, "Love you mum. Why are you two all the way out here this time?"

She remembered when her parents used to bring Myrtle to meet her. But everything, including the life of a good dog, must come to an end and her Aunt Jessamy's adopted collie had died peacefully in her sleep the previous year.

"This time? Foraging expedition," Merida answered a little too quickly and grinned. Tamsin knew only too well that they'd left the safety of Novaya Nadezhda to come to meet her, impatient to see their daughter safe, "did you get it?"

Tamsin patted her jacket pocket, "We split up into two groups as soon as we left Lincoln. Taylor, Emery, Dom and Ruth have a backup copy. Like you said Kenneth Turkle is on the list. But I don't recognise anyone else."

Ross put his hand on her shoulder, "Well done," then looked up as Leonid, McTavish and Cooper approached, "... well done all of you. Now let's post lookouts in the usual spots and get a fire going for some scran, eh?"

A howling, whistling sound like a low flying jet made them all look up as one to the darkening sky. High above, a twinkling light like a shooting star left an arrow straight contrail in its wake.

Tamsin Beech felt an icy finger trace a line down her back, "What, the fuck ... is that?"

The others gaped, not knowing what to make of it.