A/N: Wow what a weekend with so many wonderful Andith updates! Thank you so much to all our brilliant authors who are keeping the Andith dream alive!
This chapter is dedicated to Lady KMREE, in heartfelt thanks for her encouragement.
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She woke to find Anthony gazing at her, a contented smile on his lips.
"Good morning" he whispered.
"Anthony" she replied, on the verge of tears despite herself, "you came back to me, my darling."
"Of course I did, sweet one. I had to make sure you were safe."
She went to hug him, but only succeeded in making him hiss with pain.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry!"
"No, I'm sorry, it's me. I'm just a...a wounded and crippled, old codger." He gave a sad and self-deprecating laugh.
Edith leaned up on her elbows.
"Don't you dare call yourself that, Anthony Strallan! You are the bravest, most selfless, most capable man I know. I'm sorry I put you in such danger."
"Well, help me walk to the bathroom and we'll call it quits" he smiled, turning the mood light and being rewarded with a sympathetic giggle from Edith.
...
As Edith waited for Anthony outside the bathroom, Elsie came down the corridor.
"I hope you don't mind, hen. I heard voices. How is he?"
"Better thank you. He's just in the loo."
"That does sound better. Excellent. Do you think he might like a bit of breakfast? I'll bring it up. You two just relax."
Edith forced Anthony back to bed and insisted he rest while she went for a shower. By the time she returned, he had dropped off to sleep again. Just then Elsie brought in a tray of tea, toast, and marmalade and to the women's pleasure Anthony had a good appetite.
They discussed how to deal with practicalities as Anthony's wounds began healing. Elsie drew the line at allowing Edith to give Anthony a bed bath, but only because any 'strenuous physical activity' as she called it, (causing both of them to blush with furious embarrassment), might aggravate his stitches. Although she herself had suggested it, mostly in fun, privately Edith agreed with Elsie that it would have been a temptation too far.
Instead one of the young attachés helped Anthony take a shower since he was still in too much pain to do it efficiently for himself.
Clean, clean shaven, and dressed in proper clothes, Anthony wanted to see the rest of the Embassy, and to meet the Ambassador. They were just passing Charlie's office when he came out to meet them.
"Sir Anthony, it is very good to see you better. And, quite frankly, it is surprising as well as pleasing bearing in mind how you were yesterday."
"Thank you, Mr Carson. One can't just malinger you know" Anthony replied feeling a bit uncomfortable at Charlie's intimation, as though he shouldn't be up and about.
"Do you think you are up to telling the Ambassador what happened?" asked Charlie.
"Yes, of course. Better to get it over with."
"He isn't that scary, I assure you" Charlie replied.
"Mr Carson, once I have confessed to all I have done in the last two weeks, I am sure Dr Clarkson will not be satisfied until I am in the custody of the British Military Police, preparing to be deported to stand trial."
Anthony walked through to where the Ambassador's office had been pointed out to them. He didn't see Edith's worried expression or Charles' reassuring hand on her sleeve.
"Don't worry. I'm sure it won't come to that, my lady. From what I can gather, Sir Anthony is the sort to take responsibility for absolutely everything. Am I right?"
Edith nodded but she was far from reassured as she and Charlie joined Anthony in Richard's office.
Anthony and Richard were shaking hands - left hands, Edith noted - and Anthony was thanking the Ambassador-doctor for all his assistance.
"Not at all, not at all. That's why we have embassies: to help. Now, please sit and make yourself comfortable because I am longing to know how you got the better of those lunatics and made it here."
"Lady Edith has informed us as to events up until the time that she left you at the top of the path down this side of the plain" said Charles.
"So you are aware that I had to...to kill three insurgents to stop the execution and save her life?" Anthony stumbled over the words.
"Including their leader, yes we are aware of that" Richard replied.
"Good. That makes telling the rest of it easier for me. After Lady Edith set off, I held the position with covering fire for as long as I could using as little ammunition as I dared. But the situation became unsustainable when I was down to the last clip. I didn't want it to end with me running out completely because they would have realised, come forward and found me cowering behind a boulder and slaughtered me there. I didn't want to die like that; my pride wouldn't allow it. If the worst came to the worst I wanted to face them. Then I had an idea for luring them from their cover. I continued to snipe at them, but deliberately stepped out just a little too far from behind the rock to give them a target."
"Heavens, man, you took a chance! You could have been killed!" exclaimed Richard.
"Battle is chance, Sir" Anthony stated sadly and calmly. "As you know, I took a couple of bullets, but that just assisted my act that they had got me. I lay still playing dead with my machine pistol hidden beneath my robes, waiting for them to come out and check on me, which they did pretty soon. When I was as certain as I could be that they were all there, and before any of them decided to shoot me again just to make sure, I...well, I had half a clip left. It was enough."
He paused, looking down.
"It took me so long to walk here simply because of the wounds and blood loss and..."
"Exhaustion?" Charles asked.
"Yes that, and conscience" Anthony added. Having given his report, he fell silent.
"What a story" said Charles.
"Amazing, quite amazing" Richard agreed.
"When do you think the local garrison will be able to send someone to take custody of me? Obviously I'm not going to make any trouble" asked Anthony.
Richard looked from Anthony to Charles and back again, bewildered.
"I'm sorry, I'm not with you."
"I've committed murder..."
"...in defence of another British citizen, and, incidentally, in defence of the security of the country on whose soil you carried out those actions" Richard clarified firmly.
"We have had information on that particular cell for some time which indicates they were planning more than just the kidnapping of Western journalists: atrocities against their own civilians, bombs in market places on other religion's holy days and such like terrorist acts" added Charles.
"Your alleged acts of murder were carried out on their territory and so the pursuit of any 'justice' is firmly in their jurisdiction" said Richard with a decisive air of conclusion.
"With respect, Your Excellency, that's rot and you know it. Their judicial system is in complete chaos. There's no chance of providing a fair trial...or any kind of trial over there for the foreseeable future, at least for as long as the insurgency continues" said Anthony, his wounds and tiredness slowing his usually quick wits.
"Exactly. Now, if you'll excuse me I ought to get onto Scotland Yard for an update."
"But..."
"Sir Anthony, Lady Edith, if you please" Charles ushered them out of Richard's office ignoring all of Anthony's stuttered objections, and closed the door.
Anthony stood looking at the wood for a few bewildered seconds. Then he remembered something. He turned to Edith, who was watching him closely.
"I don't know if you can tell me, but why was Richard contacting Scotland Yard? Does that have anything to do with us?"
"Michael" she stated. "Charlie got GCHQ onto it and they have records of Michael contacting the insurgent cell from the Sketch offices. It was him who betrayed me."
All thoughts of his guilt or otherwise evaporated, and Anthony's face became stone with anger.
"I'll kill him. As God is my witness, I will kill him."
"No need, Sir Anthony." Charlie was standing behind them; they hadn't heard the door opening. "We've just heard that when the police tried to arrest Michael Gregson at the Sketch building, he resisted, ran to his office, and shot himself."