Chapter 2

There was a minor squabble between the girls to see who could help me with the dishes, though I solved it by getting Zena to dry and Tahira to put stuff away.

“You must be very proud of them,” I said to Maryam who was sitting watching and who had been forbidden to help.

“I am, though I’m afraid for them too. People like us are feared and hated because of Bewl, not because we did anything but how we look,” she replied.

“You had friends to vouch for you?” I asked.

“Yes, but they have drifted away. Life is not easy here for anyone.”

“Things will change, you’ll see,” I replied.

“Perhaps, but for the likes of us? I think not,” she said.

The conversation tapered off after that and Maryam eventually went back to the bed whilst I took the girls out for a walk to a park. Although a bit run down the equipment was still useable and soon the girls were having a whale of a time, joining in with other children despite some odd looks from their parents. Still, with me there and obviously interacting with the girls, nothing was said openly and the kids didn’t care at all. Afterwards I took the girls down to the Veterans Club to get lunch and to meet up with Jimmy.

“So these are the little ones we helped?” he asked after shaking hands with the girls and making them giggle at the formality.

“Yes. Their mama is doing OK too. Food poisoning I think,” I replied.

“Problems with who you are?” he asked.

“Yes,” I sighed.

“Alec, you’re a good man. Hell, I think we all are. None of us came out of that nightmare in one piece and we rid ourselves early of the ones who enjoyed it,” he answered the unspoken doubts in my mind. “Early days yet, but if we stick to the plan, we’ll bring this nation back from the brink, little by little.”

“Yes, and it will mean that these little ones need never live in fear,” I said with a slight smile and a small hug for Zena and Tahira.

“Aye, and maybe we can bring our boys home as we promised,” Jimmy added.

“I hope so. Whilst I can’t see us not needing them anytime soon, we do need to give them hope,” I said.

“Yeah, but they’ll need the hard cases weeding out too,” came the voice of Ted, who’d approached quietly from behind.

“True, but we can at least start with the women and girls,” Jimmy replied, getting nods off us both. “As it is, you need to fill these out. Makes you candidates for the Veterans party in the local elections.”

“Crap, I hate politics,” groaned Ted.

“Language,” I chuckled looking at the girls who were drinking pop and wandering around chatting to the guys in the room and getting a lot of good natured attention.

“Sorry, Alec. Bad habit,” he muttered with a slight grin.

“Anyway, the way to change things is to start at the bottom. Lot of veterans are back now. We’re mostly popular and we have the numbers to make a difference. If things go well and we keep it together and make a difference we’ll try for County and then the nationals,” Jimmy informed us.

“Army Council won’t like it,” I said.

“I know, but we have some support there and in the Coalition. Hopefully it’ll be enough,” he answered.

“Considering the alternative is to drag them down in a coup, I think we’ll try it your way,” I said solemnly getting nods off Jimmy and Ted as well as a few others who were listening in.

Because I had Zena and Tahira with me I did not indulge in my usual pint of weak beer but chose a pint of still orange instead. Fizzy pop simply didn’t do anything for me save give me wind and heartburn. The talk of change had now ended and the veterans were now in fun mood and were singing the old songs, though because of the girls it was the sanitised versions of them. Surprisingly the girls knew most of them and joined in, their clear young voices melding in with the gruff bass and tenors of the men and making a few tears flow at memories of camaraderie and better days.

Finally though we returned home and another incident. I found my door ajar and warned the girls to be quiet. Moving swiftly into the room I found both my landlady’s sons inside holding a weakly struggling Maryam down and were obviously intending a little bit of light entertainment in the form of a rape.

“Planning on dying early?” I said, shocking both of them and making the one who’d just been in the act of kneeling between Maryam’s thighs and dropping his pants to fall over when he tried to rise up.

“She er ... invited us in for some fun,” lied the oldest, looking at where with a click the extendable baton opened to its full length.

“Liar!” yelled Maryam.

“Indeed, a lie needs to be convincing and you have a choice,” I said with deadly intent.

“Choice?”

“Die now or die later at the hand of the local enforcer or walk with me to the recruiting station,” I said.

“What for? Trying to fuck a muzzie. Don’t make me laugh!” he said with scorn.

“Didn’t you know? England’s been muzzie free for over eight years,” I said sarcastically before slamming the baton down on the hand of the other son, who thought I wasn’t watching him reach out to grab it, breaking the fingers in his hand like twigs.

He screamed like a little girl, that’s all I can describe it as. It was enough to bring his mother scuttling into the room nearly knocking Tahira over.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she gasped, then turned pale as she saw their undress and Maryam on the floor.

“Summary justice, the charge being attempted rape, the sentence being death,” I replied with icy calm.

“Oh gawd, please spare ‘em,” she moaned as she realised that I was bang within my rights under the new compact, which allowed citizens the rights to deal with or get others to deal with crime.

“But ma,” said the uninjured son.

“You stupid fucker, he’s a veteran! He could kill you out of hand just for looking at him funny! And you attack his woman? Christ Almighty, I thought I’d brought you up better than that!” she yelled.

“I could take them to the recruiting station, give them a new start. They might not survive in the Brigades, but it’s a better chance than they’d have if I ever saw them again, or reported them to the enforcer,” I said.

“And you’ll say no more? Including the incident with the locker?” she asked terrified but clearly on the lookout for herself now.

“Deal,” I said to her. “Now pull up your pants and come with me, you have an appointment,” I said to the pale faced young men.

“I’ll make sure your Lady and the girls are alright,” the landlady said clearly trying to make amends. “Sorry about the other day. Old habits die hard.”

Pushing the stunned brothers out of the house and onto the street I told them to walk towards the High Street where the recruiting station was. I knew they wouldn’t run, I’d just inform the enforcer and they’d be fugitives and dead men walking. At least this way they might get out after ten years, or perhaps take a bullet meant for someone more worthy. Nor was I worried about the broken fingers, the brother would get quick treatment and await healing in a holding cell before starting basic. Then again as the casualty (death rate) in basic was about 1.5% perhaps justice might be done anyway.

Once back, the landlady hurried out at my nod and I went over to where Maryam was sitting cuddling her daughters.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t think they’d be so stupid,” I said sincerely.

“Nor I,” she said a tear trickling down her cheek.

“I should have told you, as I told the girls, to keep the key in the lock so no one can get in,” I said.

“I will in future,” she replied.

All I wanted to do was take this sad beautiful woman into my arms and protect her and her girls. Yet I did not dare. Her opinion of Englishmen was too low and I did not wish to add new problems to her life. Yet in a sense I was shown in a good light when Zena came across to give and get a cuddle off me, planting a kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you for protecting mama,” she said in a small voice.

“I’ll always be there to help or protect you if wanted,” I said, a tear trickling down my cheek this time as I held her close.

I made a quick lunch of sandwiches for Maryam who was clearly thinking things through.

“You say you’ll protect us?” she finally asked.

“With my life and upon my honour, yes,” I replied simply.

“How? You have no idea what it’s like out there for anyone who looks like us,” she said.

“By making it plain what will happen if any disrespect you, along with the other veterans who will be bound by my oath,” I said.

“I don’t know if I can trust you though. Your reputation precedes you,” she sighed.

“We intend to change things,” I said, deciding to take her into my confidence. “Starting at local level, we intend to get elected and start with removing the snitches and the other local ordinances that cause the country so much pain. Whilst we won’t go back to the old days, justice will still be swift and oft times uncertain. But we need to end the blight Bewl has put upon this country and our lives.”

“And the Brigades?” she asked.

“We need to give them hope before that blade twists in our hands. We need to free the girls from the system that sees them as naught but objects for breeding more slave soldiers,” I said earnestly.

“You’d bring them home? The men that is?” she asked.

“The best of them, aye. Some though are little more than psychopaths and we made them that way, but those can be dealt with too,” I admitted.

“A cull?” she asked astonished.

“If necessary, God forgive us. We led them and they fought well, but some are just too damaged to ever be allowed to come home,” I said in tones little more than a whisper.

“You’ll be stopped, the Army Council and the New Coalition will have to stop you,” she said.

“They can try,” I shrugged. “Perhaps they’ll succeed, but we have to do something. This country cannot go on as it is.”

“So why not just kill them all?” she asked contemptuously. “That’s your normal modus operandi.”

“No longer. We seek redemption,” I replied sadly. “It’s also the name of our plan, such as it is.”

“I can’t get a rise out of you at all. You’re completely sincere, aren’t you?” she asked in wonder.

“We all are. This has been planned for years,” I said.

“And how do we fit into this?” she enquired.

“Zena reminds me of a recurring dream I have. An incident in my past that shames me greatly. When I saw that thug attack her, I knew that it was destiny and I was being given a chance to redeem myself,” I replied.

“A message from God?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“I don’t believe in God. No sane God could have failed to act against us and all we did. We’ll be remembered in history like the SS, written in the blood of the innocent and like as not unforgiven,” I said.

“Oh Alec, there’s always forgiveness,” she said and reached out to hold my hand sending what seemed like a jolt of electricity through my body.

“For others perhaps, but not for us. For those we used and abused in pursuit of our crimes, yes. But all we can do is try to make amends and bring down those who would perpetuate our crimes through others and most certainly not in the manner they used,” I replied at length.

“I still find it hard to believe that you veterans will try to make things better,” Maryam said, still holding my hand.

“It pretty much started since that god awful campaign supporting the anti-Balaka in the Central African Republic,” I replied. “Though it’s only been the last three years since the veterans were allowed to retire that plans were formulated.”

“I remember the news, they claimed a major victory in the fight against militant Islam,” Maryam said.

“Victory? Yes, we were victorious. But we let slip the leash on the Brigades for the first and only time and realised we had created a monster,” I sighed. “The anti-Balaka were only driving the Muslims out, we went in and committed genocide, tens of thousands of men, women and children driven at gunpoint into pits and napalmed.”

“My God!” she replied utterly appalled. “I had no idea.”

“We got away with it too, the boys were too efficient. There were no witnesses. We even killed any journalists we found and killed any who saw it. We then bulldozed the remains into deep pits and covered them over leaving a Brigade behind to make sure no one looked too closely,” I said, my voice strained and tears trickling down my face. “Only good thing to come of it was that we never let a Brigade off the leash again.”

“And you want them to return?” Maryam asked horrified.

“Yes. Not all took part in the massacre and afterwards many who did were severely traumatised,” I replied. “We have a program of civil works to repair the years of neglect and give them new pride as well as let the people see they aren’t all monsters and those that are, we made.”

“You risk so much,” she almost whispered.

“Aye, but trust me. The real psycho’s won’t be coming home,” I stated.

The conversation petered out after that and I left Maryam to get some rest whilst Zena, Tahira and I played a few games and sang a few songs accompanied by an old guitar I’d carried in my campaigns.

Maryam re-emerged for dinner still subdued and not really talking to me, but at least interacting with her daughters. After the dishes I took out the form Jimmy had given me and began to fill it out, going carefully over the details they wanted to know. In the morning I would drop it off, including my deposit, in the Registration Bureau (elections) office.

“Do you think you can win?” came Maryam’s quiet voice.

“No,” I replied. “Not this time at least, we might gain a few seats, but even if we win them all, it’s only a third of the Council.”

“Well, you’re realistic at least,” she muttered. “Do you have a manifesto?”

I picked up a copy of our draft manifesto from a cupboard and handed it over and she scanned it carefully.

“You have to be kidding me?” she said shaking her head in exasperation.

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked puzzled.

“No one will believe you for one and I doubt you’ve costed it carefully with regards to the budget limitations the Councils face,” she replied.

“We have costed it,” I replied handing over a budget sheet.

“You intend not taking anything but necessary expenses, no salary?” she asked.

“Yes, and we intend to pare to the bone the bureaucracy, replacing well paid troughing executives with veteran volunteers,” I added.

Maryam took the pen I’d been using and started doing a few calculations on the side of the budget before putting it down and staring in wonder.

“I see it now and if you add in the savings gained by stopping the snitches stipend you could at least repair the parks, replace the street lights and renovate much of the derelict housing,” she said with wonder in her voice.

“That’s where other veterans come in voluntarily,” I added. “We all have skills and can help do it, but it will take at least three years to get the numbers we require to do it. But at least at first we can present a united opposition to the chancers pulling the strings.”

“Veterans into the schools too, to mete out discipline?” she frowned.

“To prevent the continuing of the bully culture which produces snitches and holds others back,” I replied mildly.

“You can’t force kids to learn,” she shot back.

“No but we can stream the most able into groups and give the least able academically the chance to learn trades or other useful abilities,” I answered.

“From each according to his ability, to each according to his need,” she said with a tight smile.

“In a sense,” I chuckled.

“You’ll never get away with it,” she added. “But you’ll get my vote.”

“Thank you,” I replied with a smile of my own.

Maryam and the kids retired for the night, both Zena and Tahira giving me a kiss and a hug which brought a small measure of joy to my existence. I still couldn’t figure Maryam out, I half expected her to find a new place away from me when she was well enough ... but hoped upon hope that she wouldn’t take her two rays of sunshine from me.

The dream came to me again that night, more detailed than ever, though this time the faces were of my comrades being gunned down and the girl was Zena. I raised my rifle at the burning screaming child and as I had at the time and in the dream ever since, shot her between the eyes.

“Alec! Alec!” came a loud voice. “Wake up you’re dreaming! Alec!”

I came around, sweat pouring from my body and the pillow soaking from both tears and perspiration.