Walpurgis Night

Chapter 22: Walpurgis Night

Charley watched the destruction of the Brit headquarters on the small TV screen as they sat in the holiday caravan in Skegness.

"We will be blamed for this now!" Raj passed the floor of the small caravan.

"You had nothing to do with this?" said Natasha. "Relax. As soon as I get back to London, I am buying a whole new wardrobe. These clothes actually stink."

"We can never leave this place," said Raj. "We are just as much prisoners here as we were back on the island."

"How do you figure that out?" asked Natasha.

"We will be arrested as soon as we go inland. We have no papers. Not even a passport."

"You don't need papers in this country. Tell him, Charley."

"You and I, are free to walk out that door, but he, has to keep his head down. Until I can find a good lawyer to think of a reason why he should be here." Charley never took his eyes off the screen. "But this is bad news. Something terrible has happened here. I think that Gerald knew something when he watched us leave France?"

"Yeah-yeah. Life's a bitch," said Natasha, looking through the food cupboards.

"No, something really terrible has happened here today. I can't help thinking we are part of it. All those people, blown to pieces." Charley switched from one channel to another but found the same story.

"They were all outside on strike," pointed out Natasha. "This the only food you got in this dump?"

"Don't you think that's a coincidence?" Charley looked around at her eating the last of the biscuits.

"You'll be telling me, they were mixed up with Kennedy next."

"It was the Brit that did the hatchet job on the Cobol Lottery winners, and now this!"

"So who dropped the bomb?" asked Raj.

"The people who were making money from that tank deal, in our factory."

"That doesn't make sense," said Raj. "Why would they drop a bomb on a newspaper office to stop you from winning the Lottery?"

"No! Not stop us," said Charley. "I think the Brit rigged the Lottery game. Rigged it so we would win."

"So they let you win?" asked Natasha.

"Yes, but we were not supposed to win anything. Once we won, the whole world would know about it. Whilst the whole world is staring at us drinking our money away, they are asking questions about where we used to work, and what they would find out, is the truth behind the tank deal."

"The fact that you made crap tanks?" asked Natasha. "Why not drop the bomb on this Cobol place? Makes more sense?"

"Because we were making second-rate tanks for a reason. Or we were made to turn out second-rate tanks. Someone was making a lot of money through this deal, and they did not want the world to find out. Once they stuck their noses into the factory, the newspapers would soon find out who was behind the deal."

"So who was behind the deal?" asked Raj.

"I don't know. But I know it was the same group that dropped that bomb."

"Charley if you go shooting your mouth off about that, they will drop a bomb on you." Natasha looked sternly at him now. "If they can do that to a whole newspaper, what the hell do you think they will do to a skinning little white boy?"

"All I know is that we deserve this money. I need it to help those poor people out there in the world, being exploited by greed."

"And you think they are just going to let you come marching up Fleet Street shouting your message to the world? Wake up, man." Natasha shook her head and turned away.

"Well, we have to do something. We have come so far, we can't give up now. You are with me aren't you Raj?"

"All I want is a nice lifestyle," said the boy meekly. "I don't want to take on a force so strong it can blow up a whole office block in the centre of London, and get away with it."

"What about your comrades stuck in those camps?"

"Charley you can't be a bleeding heart for the whole world. Shit happens." Natasha tried to be honest.

"Is that all you can say about it: Shit happens?"

"Seriously Charley, what can we do? Why not use that money to do what little good you can here? There must be charities that could use it. People who go on holiday in places like this, are in need of some straight cash."

"What about your friends back in Cobol?" asked Raj. "They have a share in that money? Do you not think that they would want it spending more wisely?"

"They would want to overthrow any evil regime!" Charley snapped back.

"Right now, I bet they could do with a few bucks up front," said Natasha. "Once you turn up with the other half of that ticket, they will want it invested a little more wisely. See sense?"

"You are right of course." Charley slumped back on the old sofa and watched the fire engines trying to put out the blaze. "We have to go to Ampswell and tell them the good news. Old Dave will know what to do."

"If it's all the same, I'm going to take Clare's advice and split while the going is good. No offence Charley, but I don't see myself as a kamikaze. When we got on the boat in the Pacific, things were different, but since this, everything has changed."

They all looked at the TV and knew the magic was gone.

"You are right about that too. Well, I suppose it's goodbye then?"

"Only for a while. I know an old girlfriend in London, who can put us up for a few days until I can wire some money from the States. How about I take the boy with me?"

"Where would I go?" asked Raj, at a loss.

"You can't walk the streets, and Charley will be trying to collect the money. What you say?" Natasha was clearly preparing to leave, now they had found some clean clothes from the wardrobe.

"Yes, that's a good idea," said Charley. "The sooner we get started the better. They will be searching even harder for smuggled immigrants now. I'll go back to Ampswell and see my old friends in the factory."

They threw open the doors of the caravan and were about to sneak off when something stopped them.

The caravan was surrounded by armed men.

Pointing machine guns at them, and dressed in black, they clearly meant business.

Charley stared down the barrel of the gun. It was the sort of gun, which said: if you can see this now, things look bad for you.

"Hi, boys, this a camp game or something?" Natasha looked nervously around them.

One man walked through the wall of gunmetal and kevlar.

"My name is Durrant. Would you care to step inside the car please?" he smiled and pointed to a large black beast pulled up alongside the caravan. There was no one else in sight.

"Sure," Charley walked slowly towards the car and sat inside. "What's the worst they can charge us with? Aiding an illegal alien?"

"These guys aren't from the government Charley," said Natasha. "I think I know who they are."

"Who?" asked Raj, looking very nervous. "I've been arrested before, and sent back, but this seems different?"

"It's different alright," said Natasha, looking out of the window as the cars speed off. "I think these are the people you were referring to Charley."

"The Euro Lottery?" asked Raj.

"No, the people who blew up the Brit, this morning. I think they want to have a word with us, about this ticket." Charley just sat back and tried to work out a plan.

"What you going to tell them Charley?" said Natasha.

"What we agreed back there. We keep the money and keep our heads down."

"Wise decision." Natasha looked out the window at the flat landscape and liked it less and less, the further into the country they went.

Finally, the cars pulled up at the big house in Norfolk.

It could have been any country scene, and Charley realised he had missed the English countryside since he got off the ship. The cars drove away, with the armed guards and they were left there on the white gravel drive. A woman came from the stone doorway of the house and greeted them with a smile.

"Hello, would you care to come through, my husband wishes to have a word with you." She smiled and indicated the way through the house. "Lovely isn't it? Sixteenth Century."

"It's a little different to our last residence," said Natasha walking ahead.

Inside the coolness of the big house, they walked into the drawing room. Food and drink were laid out on a coffee table.

"Help yourselves," said the women.

"I'm starving," said Natasha, taking a fist full of sandwiches.

"Why all this food?" asked Raj.

"You must be hungry since you came off the ship?" said the woman. "Mr Soams, if you would like to go through that door, my husband would like a word with you?"

So Charley went.

At first, he saw no one in the room, but as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a man sitting in a large padded chair. The chair swung around so they were both facing each other over the desk.

"Good morning Mr Soams. I hope we didn't give you a scare with our little army?"

"No I always smell like this," said Charley, sitting before him. "Tell me, what the hell is this all about?"

"My name is Pierse Morel. You won't know me, or my organisation, but we have just become considerably richer, thanks to you and your friends."

"So it was you who bombed the Brit?" said Charley.

"Very good! You have put the puzzle together. Of course, you realise I can't have you running about the countryside, shouting that out? Do you agree?'

"We talked about that back in Skegness. I wanted your name shouted from the highest mountain, but they just want the money." Charley pointed back towards the others, stuffing their faces.

"What did you decide Charley?"

"I want you to know that I despise people like you. People who feed off the little man, and laugh at honest workers. I want you to know that no matter how much you buy people off with rags like the Brit, you will never fool me."

"Do you want to go back to slaving away in that factory? Or do you want to collect your money?"

"You know I can do nothing against you. But you can't stop me from hating you." Charley looked at the man sitting in the big chair.

"I don't want your friendship, just your respect. Do I have that?"

"You are clever, and you are strong, I'll give you that. I'll respect you because I want my friends to live a good life. How about that?" asked Charley.

"Good enough for me."

"You'll let Raj, live in this country, as he pleases?"

"Of course."

"No come back on Natasha? For helping us?"

"No, she's free to go as she pleases."

"What about Cobol and the Lottery? Will you let us collect the money?"

"I think you have earned it by now. Not many people could have gone around the world and accomplished what you have. You are quite something, Charley."

"Funny how money changes people."

"It's certainly changed you. From a little nothing in a run-down factory to someone who has launched two revolutions, found a lost treasure and outwitted the governments of the world. Once we have this business with the Brit sorted out, I want you to give me a call. I could use a man like you in my organisation."

"To help blow up buildings and sink ships?"

"Partly, but we also do a lot of good. Do you want the world run by a lot of people like Rufus? We can stop them. We can't make it perfect, but we can redress the balance."

"I'll think it over."

"You will be bored just sitting about, trying to think of ways to drink that money. Why not put your talents to use?"

They left it at that.

Charley was worried and confused by it all. Had they really put him on that island, just to let him escape and sail halfway around the world? What for?

Natasha and Raj went back to London, where she still had a flat. She stood in the white gravelled yard as the car came to collect them, and looked back at Charley. He was walking on his own across the lawn, trying to make up his mind.

Pierse walked over to the girl and spoke to her.

"You did well Natasha. Thanks for looking after him." Piece looked over his shoulder at Charley.

"Next time I want two million," was all she would say to him.