“You might be surprised.” Robert looked him directly in the eye. “If anything happens to me, and the troops break in here, get Sophie and Mary out. Do you understand? You’ll know where to go. That’s the most important thing you can do, son.” He gave Mark a tight hug, and when he pulled away again he could see the boy was fighting back tears.
Robert asked the same of Reverend Tate when he spoke to him: help to keep Mary, Sophie and Mark safe. “And Gwen and the little one,” Tate added. He’d sent word to the woman at New Hope, letting her know about the army that was heading towards them, promising supplies if she would come to the castle to collect them. Word had it she was on her way with Clive Jr, and when she got to the castle Robert knew Tate was going to try and get her to remain there until the danger had passed.
“She won’t stay, you know,” Robert told him. “She’ll want to be with her people. I have to say I can understand that.”
Tate agreed. “All I can do is try.”
“You do know I can’t let her have any weapons?”
“I wasn’t specific about what the supplies were.”
“But that’s what you’ve let her think.”
The Reverend heaved a weary sigh. “You do what you must, and I’ll do likewise. You know, I wouldn’t normally be the one to say this, but are you sure you shouldn’t take some of those things along yourself when you meet this army of yours?”
Robert tutted. “You’re advocating the use of firearms now, Reverend? You sound like Bill.”
“They were used in the battle for the castle,” Tate reminded him.
“We’ll do okay without them. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me, to have faith?”
“There’s a difference between that and suicide.”
“We’ll be armed. Just not in the way they’ll be expecting. The men have been trained well, and we’ll have a few surprises for our friends.”
Tate gave a tip of the head, then said finally: “Remember the story of David and Goliath, Robert.”
That just left Mary.
Robert tried to find her, but he knew that if he chose a quiet spot, she would eventually come to him... if she wanted to talk. He went down to the stables, to feed his horse. They’d been through quite a bit together, and he’d be asking quite a bit more of the animal in the days to come.
When he heard the footsteps behind him, he turned and saw Adele, and couldn’t hide the disappointment on his face.
“You were expecting her, weren’t you?” said the woman. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay.”
Adele came a little closer. “It’s just that, well, I figured I might never see you again. And I didn’t want you to go before... That is, I really need to tell you something, Robert.”
He pressed his face up against his horse, closing his eyes. “Adele, look –”
“No, let me finish. Please.”
He heard the woman come closer, now only a couple of feet away from him. When he opened his eyes he saw a figure just over her shoulder, cheeks red from the cold, hair tied back; Mary. He was frightened that she would run off again, get the wrong impression. Instead, she coughed politely, causing Adele to start.
“Jack’s looking for you,” Mary said when she turned around.
“But I was just... I needed to talk to Robert for a moment,” she said, turning to him for support.
“You should go and find Jack,” Robert advised her.
Adele looked like she was going to say something, but gave an almost imperceptible nod and left the stables. Mary watched her go, a mixture of concern and resentment in her expression. Then she focused on Robert.
“I...” he began, but realised he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t really need to. Mary walked over, quickening her pace as she came. Then their arms were open, and they held each other; grabbing on as if they felt they might just float away if they weren’t anchored down. Robert thought about making a nervous joke, something along the lines of: ‘You’re not going to drug me this time, are you?’ but thought better of it.
The time for jokes, the time for talking, the time for arguing and recriminations, was long over. They knew they may not be together again.
As they kissed, the world fell away. Both Robert and Mary wished that this moment would never end. She took his hand, and led him up to the entrance of the castle; then finally up the stairs to their room, where they would try and make the next couple of hours last an lifetime.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
T
HE ARMY WAS
using open ground to travel between urban locations. That much they’d been able to ascertain from radio messages. And they had a rough idea of where they were, too: somewhere between Doncaster and Gainsborough.
Robert had sent out advance scouts to get a proper sense of the route the war machine was taking now that they’d regrouped and were heading for Nottingham. It had allowed him and his men to lay in wait, to prepare for the confrontation to come. But, as dawn broke and they watched from behind a scattering of trees, it would have been easy to mistake this for a normal winter’s morning in the English countryside.
Holding up the binoculars, Robert scanned the horizon. Nothing to see yet. He glanced over his shoulder at the division of men with him, some sitting on horseback, others standing leaning on their bows. There were more ringing these fields, spread out to cause the maximum confusion when the Russian troops arrived. Robert was just about to put the binoculars up to his eyes again when he heard Dale on the left of him say: “Listen... Do you hear that?”
Robert could hear it, even feel the vibrations coming up through the ground. Something was coming, something big. No, as he brought the binoculars up and focused on the spot he’d been watching, Robert realised that many big things were coming.
The jeeps were first, cresting the hill, bringing with them men swarming like ants – each wearing a grey uniform and carrying a machine gun. Then came the back-up: tanks. More than De Falaise had dreamed of. More than Robert had ever seen, and there’d been a fair few in the Frenchman’s command. But that wasn’t all. Armoured personnel carriers and other armoured vehicles. Then there were the motorbikes, their drone almost drowned out by their larger companions. They nipped in between, churning up the grass beneath.
“Jesus,” said one of the men behind Robert. “How are we supposed to fight
that
?”
Robert had to admit, although he didn’t show it, he’d expected something slightly smaller; more in keeping with what they’d dealt with before. A part of him was now wondering if he’d made the right decision, bringing these men – some of them only boys, like Dale – out here to face such odds. And Tate’s words came back to him:
“I wouldn’t be the first one to say this, but are you sure you shouldn’t take some of those things along yourself when you meet this army of yours?”
Those things,
those reminders of De Falaise and his rule... But when you were fighting men like De Falaise, shouldn’t you meet them on a level playing field – even the odds as much as you could? Robert shook his head. That wasn’t the way – he was sure of it. Old Eric Meadows had been sure of it... He just had to have faith that his plan would work, that they could catch bigger prey with the same methods he’d used back in the forest.
“We’ll fight them,” Robert said in answer to the man’s question. “And as long as we stick together, we’ll win. They won’t be expecting an attack like this one.”
“Too right!” said another Ranger. “Who’d be crazy enough to do it?”
Robert looked over his shoulder once more and grinned. “We would. Now ready yourself.”
“Time to get up on stage and do our thing,” Dale said, though all the usual cockiness was gone from his voice.
“That’s right,” said Robert. “Time to do our thing.”
I
F IT WAS
going to happen, it would happen here. Bohuslav was counting on it.
As he rode in the lead jeep, he surveyed the ground in front of him. They were out there somewhere, he was certain. Did they not think that their little attack would be anticipated? Far from being herded into this stretch of countryside, he and his men were actually hoping to bring Hood’s forces out into the open, let them do their worst, then wipe them from the face of the Earth. They’d allowed themselves to be seen, allowed the radio messages to get through without interference, purely for this purpose. Hood’s scouts had even been spotted trying to determine which direction their army was heading.
Oh, was he in for a shock.
Yet Bohuslav didn’t really want to be here. As much as he loved the thrill of slaughter – though it would never replace the kick he got from capturing and killing people one to one – he was uncomfortable about this whole operation. He was proud the Tsar had left him in charge, but couldn’t help wishing he was with his superior right now; the thought of that bastard Tanek whispering in his master’s ear was almost too much to bear. Bohuslav knew the swarthy giant was trying to worm his way in, and there was only room for one second, for one murdering psychopath on the team. Once this was all over, Tanek might well find his throat being slit in the night... if Bohuslav was quick enough to take him. He remembered back to the hovercraft. Not much scared Bohuslav, but the thought of killing Tanek was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
But that was for the future. Right now, there was one small thing to do and he needed to stay sharp to accomplish it. Bohuslav must rid the world of this new Robin Hood.
No sooner had Bohuslav thought this than he saw something down below, not much bigger than his thumb from this distance. A man on horseback – who had appeared, quite literally, out of nowhere. His head was bowed, and he had a cowl pulled over his features.
He had a bow slung over his shoulder, and a quiver on his back. He also had a sword by his side, dangling near the horse’s flank. He looked like he’d stepped out of a time warp. In no way, shape or form a match for any of Bohuslav’s soldiers or their weapons.
Nevertheless, the sight of that lone figure gave Bohuslav pause for thought. He didn’t fear him, at least not in the same way he did Tanek (though he would never admit it). But it made the serial killer at least think twice about giving the order to attack.
Is the man insane?
he wondered – which was rich, coming from someone who used to have imaginary conversations with his gagged and bound victims.
Or,
Bohuslav thought,
does he know something we don’t? Does he have something up his sleeve?
When all was said and done, this was the person who’d defeated De Falaise’s army. A different fight, a different place, but Bohuslav couldn’t help thinking: what if...
Then he smiled. If Hood wanted to play, he would oblige.
So Bohuslav ordered one of the T-90 battle tanks to target the man and blow him to kingdom come.
R
OBERT HELD HIS
position.
They’d be firing any second, but this was more than a matter of drawing a line in the sand, showing both sides what they were up against. It wasn’t about weapons, either, or about who was right and wrong. It was about courage, standing up for something you believed in.
Even just as an image.
Robert patted his horse’s neck, holding her steady. Then, right at the very last moment, he pulled the steed around and rode her away, back out of range. He heard the shot from behind, the whizzing sound as the shell flew through the air.
It exploded in the spot where he’d stood only moments before. The animal protested, but was used to this type of noise. Robert urged her back round and they stood there again.
This time, though, Robert held up his hand – and dropped it again. Giving his order, as the commander of these troops must have done.
Like snowflakes they fell from the sky. Huge rocks, raining down on the vehicles from strategic, hidden positions on either side. From catapults they’d brought with them, made over the last few months to defend the castle, but wheeled and easily transportable. The rocks landed heavily on the tanks, jeeps and other armoured vehicles, not doing a vast amount of damage, but proving that they weren’t as toothlesss as they’d seemed.
It also had the effect of provoking the army into rushing them. Now the jeeps, bikes, tanks and armoured vehicles were moving forward into position. They began firing at the trees, but Robert’s men were well-camouflaged. There was nobody apart from Robert on the battlefield for the vehicles to engage yet.
That’s how it would stay for a little while, until they’d finished sending their message.
From the trees now came hails of flaming arrows. They hit the vehicles, exploding on impact – their tips filled with a special sulphur brew. The flames spread across the metal, engulfing some vehicles almost entirely. Mini paint bombs broke against windscreens and viewing slats, obscuring vision. One driver rammed his jeep into the side of a tank, scraping along until it got in front and the bonnet of the smaller vehicle was crushed under the tracks of the other.
Meanwhile, the bikes, jeeps and other vehicles with tyres were discovering the presents Robert and his men had left in the field. Clusters of barbed wire burst tyres and tangled up around them. Bikes wobbled and keeled over, jeeps ground to a halt, armoured vehicles could do nothing but sit there and offer covering fire.