At the same time father and daughter are about to leave the family home for their breakfast meeting in Oxford, equally early in the morning an attachment to the British Army, near Sennybridge in Wales, is getting ready to undertake a five-day training exercise. All equipment has been unloaded from their All-Terrain Vehicles (ATV). Although meticulously checked at barracks, the soldiers now ensure they have all their own equipment. Once done, they are called to muster. The officer in charge, Ellie’s major brother James junior, prepares to give the final orders, but there is a moment of hesitation. Reaching into a jacket pocket, while turning away from the expectant group, he quickly retrieves his mobile. Placing it to his ear, he listens intensely to the message. Whatever the message was, when he turns back his face is emotionless.
Without missing a beat, he speaks in an authoritative way, “Captain.” The second in command looks up from his position talking to a small group of soldiers. Joining the major, the two senior men deliberately move out of earshot of the rest of the company. Whatever is going to be said is not for general circulation. “I am instructed to return to base; I will take a driver with me. The exercise is to be continued uninterrupted, so resume with the orders. No doubt I will be able to join you later.”
Looking around the assembled group he spots, through the darkness, the person he wants who is squashed between two men who would make Thor appear small. Ensuring he keeps a commanding note in his voice, he speaks directly to the acknowledged soldier, “Corporal, you’re with me – fall out and get your kit.” He nods to the captain in a knowing way, but deep down, he’s envious that he will not have five days of fresh Welsh air pumping through his lungs and experiencing endorphins coursing through his body, bringing him a high through rigorous exercise.
A hubbub ensues with the major’s pronouncement. The captain needs to impose his authority to bring the noise quickly to a halt. “Quiet, eyes front; we are not here to have a picnic – we are here to work, to sharpen our skills.”
With the need to get going, the major runs towards the smallest ATV, slinging his pack onto his back in a single, fluid movement. For the corporal, it is like the parting of the waves, as a path is cleared for her as she races to catch up. She resists the temptation to glance around at her colleagues.
Reaching the vehicle, the major is already behind the wheel, with engine and lights on. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, while the corporal climbs into the passenger side, placing her kitbag between her legs.
Neither speaks as the vehicle is slowly manoeuvred from its parking place on the grass back onto the unofficial dirt track. The ride downhill is at a steady ten miles an hour, as water-filled potholes have to be dealt with. Only an off-road vehicle could manage to negotiate this type of environment; anything less would be shaken, bumped and rattled into a thousand pieces. Eventually, after a bone-crushing drive, they finally reach a half-decent tarmac road.
The corporal takes a swig of water, deciding she needs to break the tension starting to build in the cab. “Major, why did you pick me? I was looking forward to a lovely walk through the rugged mountains of Wales up to my knees in mud during the day and face down in sheep poo at night. Oh! And let’s not forget the weather, rain followed by even more rain, and don’t say all this is good for the complexion.” She doesn’t have to look at him to know he is grinning.
At the first convenient spot, the ATV is pulled off the road. While keeping the engine running, after putting the handbrake on and the gearbox into neutral, the major has decided now is the time to begin the process of letting her in on what is taking place. But first, he needs to contact a couple of people. Turning his body slightly towards his passenger, he speaks in a friendly tone. “I need to make a few calls, and then I will explain what will happen next. I will keep the engine running; it will keep the cab warm.” With that, he jumps down from the driver’s side and moves to where he can get a small amount of respite from the weather and away from the noise of the idling engine.
Anyone listening in on his phone call would think it is to be a boys’ night. The upbeat way he speaks adds to the effect when the call is connected. “Hi, all set for tonight? How are your teeth after having a tooth pulled? Oh! Don’t forget it’s black suits, we’re going to push the ‘boat’ out and then bring the ‘house’ down. Got two girls lined up for us two boys; get ready to kick up a storm, my son. Then if all goes to Plan B, in bed by midnight in their arms. What do you say?”
The response by the person on the other end is equally cheerful. “Great, teeth okay. Can I bring a friend to the party?”
“Sure, as long as they don’t rock the boat.”
“Will meet you at the house? Crash out at the beach hut after, always good for a breakfast before we part.”
“Yep, I’m coming straight from work – can you pick up my suit? Don’t want the gang to think I’m slacking.”
“Sure, bye.” And with that, the line goes dead.
The recipient of the call untangles what has just been said – Plan B, if needed, is extraction at midnight from the boathouse with four people – two male, two female – take down coast to beach hut to arrive by dawn. Major coming with us, need wetsuits and expect trouble, looking forward to it, should be fun.
Pressing a pre-programmed number, the major doesn’t have to wait long – four rings and the phone connects and a mature voice answers, “Hello?”
“Hi, Dad, transport if needed will be waiting for you at the agreed time and place. May I point out that the tide is a most important factor in getting you all away? If we are not needed, let me know.”
“Thank you, my son.”
“Love you, Dad.”
“Back at you,” and with that, the call ends.
With this element concluded, he rejoins the corporal in a nice warm cab. Once settled in his seat, he turns to look at his passenger. He speaks seriously, looking into her eyes. “Don’t let my rank fool you – I might be a major, but I am higher up the food chain than you might think.” The corporal goes to say something, but he puts up his hand to stop her. He continues in the same vein, “Firstly, you are the ideal candidate to help me with what is to follow. Secondly, whatever happens in the next forty-eight hours, for the rest of your life the events that are to take place never happened. You cannot commit anything to paper or discuss it with friends, colleagues or partners, a bit Bletchley Park. Thirdly, I am in a position to offer you anything in the army that will not generate too many questions. Have you thought about a posting to a warmer climate, with a promotion to sergeant? Or I can ask you to get out the vehicle and walk back to your colleagues, where, no doubt, they will ask too many questions and spread whatever rumours they like. What do you say?”
She doesn’t answer immediately, pondering on what has just been said. There has always been something about this man I can never put my finger on. He is not like any of the other senior officers who have crossed my path. This one is given respect from the lower ranks, as would be expected, but also from those in command of the regiment. I have witnessed it first hand when top brass have, metaphorically, thrown themselves at his feet. They are not frightened by him but somehow are intrigued, overwhelmed by his charisma, an allure which is bestowed on the chosen ones. Who cares? It’s Christmas.
If the corporal were acquainted with the major’s family, she would know, like father, like son – the apple hasn’t fallen far from the Sutherland tree.
After a moment of weighing up the situation and the implications, the corporal replies, if somewhat too enthusiastically, “Yes, please and thank you, sir. A warmer climate would be nice, and sergeant, wow. So, what is next?”
Although he cannot help but smile at her easy compliance, he decides drip-feeding her information is the best option. “You will take a nap, whether you need one or not, while I drive, and before you ask, we are not returning to base. We will, however, return to the unit, be it towards the end of the exercise, and so it will still be rations.” And with that, the vehicle is put into gear, lights switched on and manoeuvred gingerly back onto the road, direction and destination known only to the driver.
The corporal wakes from her imposed doze. Checking her watch, she calculates that one hour and forty-five minutes have passed. Taking a refreshing drink of water, she stares out the window to try to establish their location.
“Welcome back, Corporal, we will be stopping soon as I would like to stretch my legs; no doubt you want to do the same?”
“Yes, thank you, sir.”
“Good. Do you by any chance have anything edible?”
“Yes, sir, I have a bar of chocolate – would you like a piece?”
“That would be wonderful, if you don’t mind me sharing the treat you hoped to keep to yourself?”
“No, sir; happy to share, sir.” Delving into one of the outer pockets of her kitbag, she fishes out a medium-sized bar of white chocolate. Taking the wrapper off and carefully stowing the paper and foil coverings back into the pocket they came out of, she breaks the bar in two. It snaps with the expectation of a wonderful taste to come. She hands one half over to the driver, who grabs it eagerly, while she bites into the other part, giving out a sigh of deep satisfaction.
Talking with a chocolate-filled mouth, he comments, “Lay-by coming up, army pulls into this one all the time so shouldn’t be a problem for us. Toilets in the café. Don’t speak to anyone regarding anything army. When you get back, I’ll go and grab us a couple of hot drinks, some additional water, so is it tea or coffee?”
“Tea please, sir, milk no sugar.”
The promise of a much-needed mug of hot tea sees the corporal move quickly to use the café’s facilities. The major waits patiently for her return; once she is back in the vehicle, he strides with intent to also use the lavatory and then get tea for them both. She cannot help but notice he is returning with a cardboard holder containing two large mugs of, hopefully, piping hot tea and a large paper bag containing, what?
Opening up her side of the cab, he passes up the tea before closing the door and then moves to his side of the vehicle. Climbing back into his seat, placing the bag on the area in front of the windscreen, he addresses his passenger. “Took the liberty of buying us some food to go with the tea. Pasties, muffins and crisps okay with you?” He believes it’s only right as she gave him half her chocolate.
“Better than rations any day.”
“We all need a little treat from time to time, and thank you for the chocolate, just returning the favour, hope you don’t mind?”
“No, sir, yes, sir. Oh! Very welcome. Would you like your tea?” she says in a befuddled manner.
“Thank you, Corporal.” He takes his drink from her before continuing, “I think it’s time to tell you want is to happen next while we eat. Our first destination is another hour away. When we get there, you are to leave me and travel to a point – I will give you the co-ordinates for later. There is fuel in the back if needed. Don’t stop until you reach your destination. Right now, eat, no questions.”
Putting all the empty bits from their food break into the paper bag, after he has extracted two bottles of water, he casually murmurs, “Just get rid of the rubbish and we can be on our way. Next stop, you will have to wait and see, no point in getting ahead of ourselves.” With that, he opens his door, jumps down and walks briskly to the waste bin where he deposits their waste. Returning, he is constantly scanning the area for anything which could spell danger. As he climbs back behind the wheel, he absent-mindedly let’s slip something she has wondered about since being plucked from her buddies. “Area appears clear – we can proceed.” With that observation, he slips into silence. The corporal undertakes a yoga breathing exercise to bring a sense of calm to an intriguing state of affairs.
With the promised hour up, the ATV is reversed a hundred metres up a side lane. Large, mature trees obscure its presence from the road. Happy with his driving technique, the vehicle is parked with its engine switched off. Reaching into a trouser pocket, the major pulls out a map that shows the topography of a large expansion of the area. Unfolding and then refolding to show the section that is about to be discussed, he places it between the two of them. “We are here. You are to travel to here. These are the co-ordinates. There will already be two vehicles parked outside a beach hut, the only building in this remote area, you will need to park as close as possible to them. Remember to face this monster back up the lane, easier to do when you arrive than struggle later. You will stay with this vehicle at all times, lock yourself in and don’t leave this cab even if someone is dying on the beach. If you need a pee, it’s down to you to work out how you achieve it. You already have food and extra water. I’m only going to take the things I immediately need; all the rest will stay with you, which I will retrieve when we meet up. If all goes well, it will be dawn tomorrow; we will be coming from the sea. Oh! There’s a guy living in the beach hut – this is him,” showing her a mobile phone picture, “believes he has a touch of the Brad Pitt about him; cannot see it myself. He is expecting you but will not approach; he is there as our lookout. You may ask questions now, Corporal.”
“What if I am stopped by the military?”
“Nearly forgot,” drawing an official piece of paper from another pocket, “here are your orders, and you will note they are signed by our commanding officer.”
A little shocked at the gravity of it all, she responds, “Oh! Gosh, I will keep these safe.”
“If you don’t mind, Corporal, as I will need them back, so no giving them away or keeping them as a souvenir. Do I have your word on that point?”
“Yes, sir, of course, sir.”
“Right then, let’s get going, you on your travels and me on mine.”