The first thing she noticed was that it was fully light outside, dawn having broken while she'd slept. Another blast hit as she was running towards the wall - followed by gunfire - and she was joined by more villagers who'd been roused by the noise, including Karen and Dr Jeffreys.
Gwen saw Andy lying on the ground at the base of the wall, not moving; the rifle he had been using was a few feet away. For a moment or two she thought he was dead, and mixed emotions surged through her. How she'd once been great friends with this man, but had found herself at odds with him of late.
She'd be lying if she said she wasn't relieved when she saw him move. Then, as she got closer, Gwen could see what had done this to Andy. Two crossbow bolts, one in the shoulder the other in the chest. She slowed her pace. Only one person she'd ever known used a weapon like that.
Then she heard his voice and it sent a shiver down her spine. He was calling from beyond the wall, telling them it was Gwen's son they'd come here for. She still couldn't understand why, unless after all this time Tanek had decided to believe the bollocks about Clive Jr being De Falaise's child. It was something Tate, Robert, maybe even Mary believed - but a mother knew her own son, in her heart. The boy was Clive's.
Jeffreys was attending to Andy, so she ascended the ladder. Crouching on the ledge of the wall, she risked a peek at her foe. How he'd got his feet under the table with the Germans was anyone's guess, but then mercenaries flocked together, didn't they? It was how De Falaise and Tanek had hooked up in the first place.
Just look at the arrogant sod, standing there like he's indestructible.
But like her dream lover, hadn't Tanek come back from the dead once, after the battle for Nottingham Castle? Come back with a fleet of Russian soldiers as his allies.
Working his way around the fucking countries
.
She could see Tanek watching from behind his vehicle, and ducked back out of sight. Gwen wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was there. Of knowing she was shit scared about what they were going to do next.
It had been bad enough when she thought the Germans were on their own; now, who knew how many more troops might come? They were just villagers with guns, not that well trained either. Some hadn't even fired a gun before, in spite of her best efforts to prepare them. Some, like Karen, had never taken a life and she couldn't rely on them to begin now.
It was time to start being realistic. In most cases they would have been able to fend off what came down that road. If Javier, the man who'd killed Clive, had trundled up now they could have at least have sent
him
packing. But Tanek was a different kettle of fish.
Face it, you need help,
Gwen told herself.
Tate.
Gwen hated herself for even thinking it, but the Reverend - her old friend who'd left her a prisoner of the Sheriff for so long, who'd put her in danger again when the Tsar had attacked - was probably their only hope.
At the castle there was Robert, and wouldn't he just love to see her begging for their help. But there were also the Rangers. Well trained specialists who'd be able to take those Krauts down without breaking a sweat. With them on the outside, and her lot fighting from within, they might yet stand a chance.
Gwen caught sight of the villagers below. They were looking up, some accusatory - blaming her for bringing this to their doorstep - but most were looking to her for a solution.
There was only one thing she could think of to do.
Gwen got down, motioning for someone else to take her place on the wall. Hardly worth it, probably, but they still had to make an attempt to defend New Hope.
"Okay," she told the assembled crowd, "here's what we're going to do..."
Chapter Fifteen
"Wake up. Oh, please, wake up!"
He heard the muffled words, but didn't want to. They sounded like his mother's cries as she tried to get him up out of bed on a school or college day. "You're going to miss the bus, if you're not careful."
But this wasn't his mother's voice. It sounded familiar, though, like someone else he knew. The same inflections, though maybe a little deeper. Lyrical in tone, almost like music - and if there was one thing he knew about it was that.
Then he saw a face in the darkness.
Sian.
She was in his mind, just as she'd been in his thoughts since he'd first seen her.
"Please, whoever you are, wake up!" The words were sharper now, more acute. More real. He was fighting against the dark, raging against it. Time to get up or he'd miss the bus.
"D-Dale..." he croaked, not caring for the sound it made in his head. He tried to ignore the pain there, and hoped that fat git hadn't damaged his voice permanently when he grabbed hold of his neck. He should have been grateful he was still alive. As it was, he was simply glad he might get a shot at revenge.
Not very Ranger-like thoughts
, he told himself. But then, hadn't Robert himself exacted his own revenge - twice - on people who'd hurt the woman he loved?
Love. It was an alien concept to him so he wasn't entirely sure. It was something he always thought he'd feel one day, that he hadn't been able to feel for any other girl he'd ever been with, as much as he'd liked to. He just hadn't been built that way. But the way he felt about Sian... it was either love or something very much like it. Dale knew that when he saw what that slug had done to Sian, he'd do anything he could to save her. That's why he
had
to wake up.
Dale opened his eyes, his vision blurred. And the picture of Sian's face he'd held there now became that of her aunty: Meghan.
"Please... Dale. You have to help her."
Dale moved, and regretted it instantly. He ached all over from the beating the Dragon had given him. From somewhere he heard the sound of gunfire. Meghan looked up and out through the open door. Dale blinked and his focus returned enough to see what the Dragon had done to her hand, which she was holding against her chest as she knelt next to him.
"Please, we have to hurry," she said.
"Where..." Dale croaked again. "Where is he?" There was no sign of the Dragon, just the men Dale had put out of action before the real fight began.
"He left, maybe to see what was happening out there - with your friends?" Meghan winced as her hand shifted position; whatever he'd been through, he was in better shape than her, Dale reminded himself. That hand needed looking at, and soon. But Meghan hadn't finished talking. "Then I saw him on the screen back there, the one Sian had been on." The screen Meghan was talking about had a crack across it, but still showed a picture. The chair Sian had been tied to was now empty. Dale's heart sank.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"He took her," said Meghan.
Dale didn't want to make things worse by saying that Sian had come here to rescue her.
"I was only trying to keep her safe," Meghan told him. "And now look!"
"I think so. Somewhere he'd feel safe, back to where his family are."
"Right," said Dale, picking up the rifle he'd been brandishing when the Dragon came at him. It wasn't a Ranger's weapon but was the only one he had to hand, and he wasn't about to go up against armed men with nothing. He began to make his way outside, but would have toppled over if Meghan hadn't steadied him. What was he thinking? He was in no shape to be taking on the Dragon. He'd get all of them killed.
Dale could hear the sound of gunfire out in the corridor - then another explosion. There was a battle going on and usually Dale would have wanted to be a part of that. Not this time. He let Meghan take the lead, as she knew where the Dragon's family could be found.
They turned a corner and were confronted by two or three of the Dragon's men, who opened fire on them even before they'd had a chance to identify themselves.
Nerves and hair-triggers,
thought Dale as he pulled Meghan back behind the wall for safety,
not a good combination.
These soldiers were seeing their enemies everywhere.
Bullets pinged off the wall and Dale swore. He stuck out the machine-gun and returned fire, but drew even more in return.
He didn't have time for this. For all they knew, the Dragon could have already killed Sian and-
No, she was still alive. She had to be! Dale sprayed another round of bullets in the direction of the Dragon's men, this time chancing a look around the corner as he did.
There were even more now. He checked his magazine; there wasn't much ammo left. Certainly not enough to take on all those guys.
He looked at Meghan's terrified face and couldn't muster any reassurance.
But if he didn't do something, and fast, a young woman that they both cared about would be in really serious trouble.
The castle had sent all the reinforcements they could, but they were still heavily outnumbered.
However, the fact that one highly trained Ranger was worth at least a dozen of the Dragon's men evened it out somewhat. They also had the element of surprise on their side. Jack deemed the risk necessary. Had done since he'd learned of the connection between the Dragon and Tanek.
If that sadistic son of a bitch was back on the scene, then this outfit needed crippling sooner rather than later. Before another Sheriff or Tsar could come along and take advantage. For all they knew, this Dragon might have the credentials himself - he was certainly psychotic enough. What he'd done to their Welsh HQ, to the survivors he'd then taken back to the Millennium Stadium, was proof enough of that. And although revenge shouldn't have been the motivation for this attack, Jack's mind kept flashing back to those bodies, to the Ranger who'd been dumped on the road by the Dragon's men. The idea that Tanek might also still be around was also too tantalising to pass up.
Jack had a major score to settle with that man. On two occasions, he'd been bested by him - in spite of the rematch
almost
going his way. And that was before the torture he'd put him through.
Still, he'd thought long and hard about this: putting even more Rangers in the line of fire for some kind of personal vendetta wasn't what this police force was all about. But when the men and women had come to him themselves, saying this was the right thing, that they also wanted payback for their comrades who'd died at the Dragon's hands, that had settled it. Each one of them knew what they were letting themselves in for once they put on the Ranger uniform. It hadn't stopped them before, and it certainly wasn't about to deter them now. Far from putting them off or sending a message that the Dragon was not to be messed with, his actions had simply put fire in their bellies.
Then there was the small matter of one of his Rangers being inside. A man he'd personally sent there.
"I'm not one for speeches," Jack had told the collected troops just before they'd headed off. "Robert's the one you want for that. But I do know one thing, whatever happens today you're doing the Rangers proud. Now good luck to all of you, and let's go and kick some butt!"
His people knew exactly what they were doing, which ensured he could rely on them to crush the lookouts on the outskirts of the Dragon's territory without fuss and without their enemies issuing a warning. Jack had watched one particular squad through binoculars from a deserted house, with equal amounts of anticipation and pride. The hooded soldiers slipped through the streets, coming up on the lookouts while the Dragon's men chatted amongst themselves. If the guards had spotted trouble they might have sprung into action, but they were oblivious - and before they could even get off a shot, the group of half a dozen soldiers dropped silently to the ground, taken out by a mixture of arrows and bolas. Jack had allowed himself a slight smile, but there was a bigger test to come.
They'd moved through the city using the buildings, just as Robert had taught them. Nobody from the stadium would have seen their approach, and when they were close enough, teams of Rangers were deployed as planned, surrounding the stadium. There were a handful of Rangers present with scuba diving skills; they were not only well trained fighters, these men and women, but sometimes hobbies from the old days could come in very useful. They used the River Taff to approach the building, after Jack had sourced the equipment from a shop which used to sell tanks and gear before the virus. It would be just like the beginning of
Goldfinger
, he'd told them, but without the dinner jackets underneath their wetsuits.
Any guards they spotted were felled with arrows or bolas, some even with throwing knives if the Rangers were close enough. A team had also been sent out to deal with the problem of the vehicles and weapons stashed at Cardiff Arms Park. As Robert had done during his battle with the Tsar's men, they'd be using chemically-treated arrows to deal with this - the tips carrying a concentrated explosive. At a specified time that team would fire these into the smaller stadium, the result of which would be catastrophic for the Dragon's defences.
A couple of teams had entered via Park Street and Scott Road in a pincer movement. There were emergency doors here - Jack had done his homework - next to the old media access area, which could be used to gain entrance after any guards had been dealt with.
Meanwhile for other groups, including Jack's, the architecture of the stadium itself was a gift: struts and poles for climbing, perfect for arrows with ropes attached to be fired up onto the roof. Jack had to admit, he didn't relish the prospect of such a climb, but he did all right keeping up with some of the younger Rangers. There were absolutely no guards up on top, as Jack had figured - nobody would be stupid enough to camp out there - so the Rangers were able to climb down inside, again using all those metal struts and poles to their advantage. Hanging from the rooftop inside, they could pick off any obvious guards visible out in the open, leaving the way free for the rest of them to abseil down directly from the roof. That one was inspired by
You Only Live Twice
.