r Fox did not like Darklings, nor did he like Demons, but what he especially hated was Mr Spider, for insisting he take the call. At every side their forces were surrounded. With George’s help his agents formed a protective wall round Mr Fox so that he could see the video call feed of Mr Bear on the tablet. Mr Bear was sitting in his grey-walled office, thousands of miles away and had followed the entire battle from the safety of his desk.
“Fox?” barked Mr Bear. Even over the fighting and shouting and gunfire, his voice came clear enough through the tablet’s speakers.
“I’m here.”
“Spider tells us you are losing.”
“It may look like that, sir, but I assure you that everything is in hand.”
“IN HAND, MAN? The Armstrongs have clearly failed in Gearnish, and you are completely outnumbered on the battlefield. In what possible way could things be in hand?”
Mr Bear leant back in his chair, allowing Fox to see that Mr Owl was also at his desk. Standing behind them both was Mr Badger, as ever a block of emotionless muscle, watching but inert. He had arrived there via mirror with two more of Fox’s grey-suits before the fighting had started.
“The children, sir – they’re heading for the fortress.”
On-screen Mr Bear’s face reddened. “Too little too late, Mr Fox. I see you’ve called the Chinooks. Have your men withdraw and I will give Mr Rook and his HO-9 the order to drop the bomb.”
Mr Fox began to hum, then stopped. “No.”
Bear looked at Owl then back to the screen.
“No? Fox, you have to get out of there and you have to give me the launch code. It needs all three of us to give the green light.”
“No,” said Fox.
And beside him Mr Spider began, rather oddly, to lick his lips. Back on the tablet Mr Bear turned purple.
“Fine, have it your way. Spider, relieve Fox of his command.”
Mr Spider was about to say something. He was about to tell both Bear and Owl how happy he was to do his duty for the BBB; he was about to tell them that he would not let them down; he was about to say a lot of things. But when he leant forward, Mr Fox took the butt of his handgun and bashed it rather forcibly on the back of his head. Mr Spider fell face-first into the mud, where he lay, without saying a word.
George, who was now watching, raised an eyebrow and grinned. Over the trees’ canopy came the fast-moving silhouettes of the BBB’s Chinooks.
“Fox, your time amongst the Hidden has cracked your mind! The Chinooks are there – for pity’s sake, man, get aboard and give us the codes!”
“That would be rude. You see, Benissimo was not the only one to put out a call. Several days ago I sent every recording, every photo and dossier we have on the Hidden and their kind to both NATO and the combined representatives of the rest of the world’s armed forces.”
Mr Bear’s eyes widened, as did Mr Owl’s. Behind Mr Fox they could see soldiers rappelling from the helicopters and into the fight – soldiers from American Navy SEALs to the Russian Spetsnaz, the British SAS and countless others. There was a loud crashing of tank tread on bark, as, further off, powerful tanks finally broke through the taiga’s wooded wall.
“You’ve gone mad – the world’s not ready. They can’t know about the Hidden – they can’t know about any of it!”
“But they do, and they appear to want to save the Hidden as much as the Hidden appear to want to save them. Mr Badger?”
The rock behind both Bear and Owl smiled. “Yes, sir?”
“Arrest them.”
Within seconds, Mr Badger and his grey-suits had both Owl and Bear in handcuffs.
“You can’t do this!” yelled Mr Bear.
“It looks rather like I have.”
“On what grounds?”
“Intended murder.”
“You fool! I am trying to save lives.”
“No, Mr Bear, you are trying to wipe out everything that you do not understand. You are hereby arrested for intended crimes against life in all its forms. George, why don’t you wave goodbye?”
A confused but elated George leant in so that his toothy face filled the screen.
“This is George – now he really is trying to save lives, yours included, Mr Bear.”
The last thing they saw on the tablet’s screen was the beaming smile of Mr Badger as he led the two men away.
“Do you know, Mr Fox,” began George, “I’m beginning to think that some of you jossers aren’t so bad after all.”