The following evening
Saturday, December 31st, 2016
George Square, Glasgow
Robert Bowman was out for blood that evening.
He intended on making a statement. He wanted revenge for the death of his dear sister, Anna, at the hands of a Vengeance vigilante. He wanted a very public statement to be made which would cement his reputation and act as a warning for anybody that considered crossing him or his family. He had decided that taking down a member of the much-vaunted Vengeance would be the highway to power in Scotland . . . and indeed across the United Kingdom. His plans for the evening had been well thought out and there were contingencies for every contingency. He had a primary target in mind, plus a secondary, and many more besides. His ultimate aim would be to destroy Vengeance in its entirety. However, the man had a pragmatic mind and he knew that taking down the entire organisation would take time . . . but, he had time.
Plenty of time.
Bowman was not the only one out that night, in George Square; Vengeance too was out on the prowl.
Nemesis sat in SABRE, accompanied by Prowl, Rigour, and Glide. They were parked up on the south side, a dozen yards down from Buchanan Street, and were keeping their eyes open for trouble. Across the other side of the square, close to Queen Street Station, SCIMITAR sat parked beside the kerb. Inside, Scorpion sat with Ajax, Stripe, and Overrun. Also, out that night, were Crimson and Drift on their motorcycles; they were mobile and cruising around the area. A friend had also been spotted out that night; Storm was out on her own motorcycle, down near the River Clyde.
The overt vigilante presence, alongside the usual police presence, was intended to act as a warning to all the revellers out that night that trouble would not be tolerated. It appeared to be working too. All who were out, in and around George Square, saw the blacked out armoured Range Rover Sentinels and periodically, they would see an armoured and masked vigilante strolling around or cruising past on a motorcycle. However, everybody knew that the small petty thefts would still occur – they always did – and many would find out, much later that night, that their nice new iPhone which had cost them £600 had vanished . . . and they would have instantly regretted skipping the 'theft protection option' on their new purchase.
Vengeance was not there to stop the pickpockets – although they would, given half a chance – instead, they were there to prevent any form of atrocity or act of terrorism. There were people who would get kicks out of causing trouble amongst the tens of thousands who were out in Scotland's largest city that night. Everyone was happy, and most were busy drinking alcohol like they figured prohibition was due to start at midnight. Gallons of beer, lager, cider, and spirits were being consumed in enormous quantities. Buckie – that ubiquitous trouble-causing tonic wine called Buckfast – was being swilled by the litre causing drunkenness, vomiting, and often worse. The ambulance service was very busy seeing to youths who had drunken themselves into the proverbial stupor. Unfortunately for some, they would not survive the night, dying of acute alcohol poisoning, or just drowning in their own vomit.
However, one other would not survive the night.
SABRE
Nemesis, Rigour, Prowl, Glide
11:24
"This is boring."
Nemesis stared up at the roof of the armoured vehicle, her fists clenched. "Give me strength," she muttered as the two girls in the back seat giggled.
"So immature!" Rigour commented as Prowl and Glide continued to giggle.
"This is boring," Glide repeated. "I want to go kick some ass!"
"All in good time, Glide," Nemesis responded tartly. "All in good time."
"Nem'sis, can we please go for a walk?" Glide continued after a few minutes of silence.
"Scorpion, Nemesis, over."
"Hi – they driving you round the bend, yet?" Scorpion chuckled.
"You want another daughter?" Nemesis asked.
"I got enough shit at home, thanks, not to mention hormonal teens in here."
"Are you saying I cause shit?" Polaris demanded from the Command Centre.
"Does she need to?" Aegea cut in from the same Command Centre.
"Assholes!" Polaris growled.
"If you guys have a moment," Q commented. "We have something brewing at Royal Exchange Square."
"Action!" Glide exclaimed. "Let me at 'em!"
Nemesis started the engine and she negotiated the inebriated Glaswegians who apparently could not tell the difference between a road and the pavements.
Crimson and Drift
11:32
Crimson was leading as the pair of them rode slowly in an easterly direction along George Street.
As they approached North Portland Street, a woman clad entirely in black leathers pulled up beside them. The side of her helmet bore a thunder cloud emblem – it was Storm.
"Hello, Storm," Drift said in greeting.
"Drift," the young woman replied from behind her darkened visor.
"To what do we owe this meeting," Crimson asked.
"A few weeks ago, you had a run in with Robert Bowman, right?"
"Yes, we did," Crimson confirmed.
"And you killed his sister?"
"Yes, we did," Crimson confirmed.
"Well, Bowman and his people are here, in Glasgow, right now," Storm explained.
"I doubt he's here for the 'Auld Lang Syne' at midnight," Drift growled.
"My thoughts, exactly," Storm stated.
"Where?" Drift asked.
"Everywhere."
SABRE
Nemesis with Rigour, Prowl, and Glide
11:38
"Vengeance, use caution – Bowman is here and out to cause trouble. Stay together and do not venture out alone," Drift directed over the radio. "That includes you, Prowl!"
"Hey!" Prowl complained. "That was a one off. . ."
"Just do what you're told, there's a good little girl, Prowl," Glide laughed.
"Behave!" Nemesis growled as Prowl went to strike Glide with her armoured fist.
When they pulled up at Royal Exchange Square, they immediately clocked a group of heavies inciting violence amongst the Glaswegians who, with a token amount of alcohol inside them, did not need all that much incitement to fight. Punches were being thrown and returned. When the vigilantes appeared on the scene, everything turned ugly just as if a switch had been thrown, and it quickly became very obvious to all that they were Bowman goons and that it was a setup. No matter, the four vigilantes could give as good as they received.
Glide was in her element as she used her small size and manoeuvrability to her advantage, undercutting the punches as the much larger men tried to come to grips with the miniature vigilante. Indeed, the eight men thought that Christmas had returned as they found themselves facing off against four females, three of whom were decidedly short. However, the men quickly thought better as they found out the hard way that Vengeance vigilantes rightly deserved their reputation for fighting hard, way beyond their expected limits. Sex and size meant nothing to the Fusion-trained vigilantes. About the only thing that the Bowman heavies had going for them was that they were not facing any of the male vigilantes who all had a reputation for beating the living crap out of anybody who came their way, no matter what the size or strength.
That was when the weapons came out and collapsible ASPs appeared as the fighting quickly escalated.
SCIMITAR
Scorpion with Ajax, Stripe, and Overrun
11:45
As the fighting at Royal Exchange Square escalated, Scorpion headed nearer to provide backup.
Only, Bowman had other ideas. As Scorpion drove the Range Rover Sentinel down South Frederick Street, she had her attention drawn to the zigzagging pedestrians whom she endeavoured to valiantly avoid with some success. When she turned right onto Ingram Street, her attention was still split between the road ahead and the pedestrians with their incredible inability to remain on the pavements. She never saw the 7.5-tonne truck which accelerated out of Hanover Street from the right. SCIMITAR shook violently as the three-tonne vehicle was struck broadside and shoved to the left. The armoured windows remained intact as did the main body of the vehicle, but the paintwork was severely messed up. Two men appeared from either side of the truck and Stripe's eyes went wide as he saw the weapons in their hands.
"Down!" he yelled as the AA-12 automatic shotguns began to pump forth FRAG-12 high-explosive rounds.
The armoured glazing began to take hits and the glass crazed over as it was pitted by each successive strike from the high-explosive rounds. Each explosion was deafening to those inside the vehicle and Scorpion had ducked down, pulling Ajax down with her, stabbing an emergency panic button as she did so. In the back seat, Stripe had seized Overrun and covered her with his body. The alert went directly to the Command Centre and Q immediately directed Crimson and Drift towards the embattled SCIMITAR. Across the river, Chief and Raptor sat in CUTLASS, an armoured Land Rover Discovery.
The moment they received the alert they immediately raced across King George V Bridge towards Central Station and then headed towards the ongoing trouble, heading up Oswald Street.
11:53
The pleasant night out had turned very nasty.
Crimson and Drift arrived to find SCIMITAR under heavy attack. They had heard the explosive rounds detonating as they had approached the scene. As far as they could tell, the heavy armour on the 4x4 had not been breached, but it was only a matter of 'when', not 'if'. Crimson swiftly applied the brakes and she reached behind for her weapon. She opened fire on the attackers with her FN P90 the moment she had stopped, dropping the closest man with the first burst. The duller chatter of a subtly different machinegun fire erupted from the far side of the truck and the second man fell to the street. As Drift moved closer, his own P90 to his shoulder, a black-gloved hand waved form behind cover, and Drift saw Storm with an MP5K at her shoulder just beyond the truck.
"SCIMITAR – report!" Drift ordered. "You're clear to exit."
"The fireworks stopped?" Ajax asked as she climbed out.
Scorpion emerged, and she studied the damage.
"You are not billing me for any of this shit," she growled. "It was the other guy."
"Let's go check on the others," Crimson suggested as she dismounted from her motorcycle.
"They appear to be doing rather well on their own," Drift commented a few seconds later as they ran down the street towards Royal Exchange Square.
"Oh, shit!" Storm exclaimed as two men appeared holding submachine guns.
Storm was about to dive for the ground with the Fusion vigilantes when there came the roar of a powerful engine and both of the men were swept aside like they were made of paper by the armoured beast which was CUTLASS.
"Stupid bastards!" Raptor called out.
..._...
Beyond CUTLASS, Nemesis was apparently enjoying herself as she battled two rather large brutes who were doing their best, only Nemesis was not letting them get within two feet of her.
Nemesis was making good use of her 42-inch Katana with the Saya in place. She had no desire to kill unnecessarily and thus litter the city with bodies. Instead, she was enjoying beating the living crap out of men three times her size. As for Prowl, she was also in the zone and using her agility to dodge the fists which came her way. The girl had drawn blood with her Bagh Naka claws which only appeared to infuriate her victims. The nine-year-old knew that beneath her protective suit she was covered in bruises, but she was having the time of her life and she could not have wished for a better New Year. Glide, however, was in two minds. She did not enjoy the violence as much as she once did. However, she alleviated her worries with the knowledge that the men wanted to hurt her and her friends, not to mention that they worked for that bastard, Bowman. The younger girl had just begun to make proper use of a 36-inch Ko-Katana in addition to her twin axes. In the very same way as Nemesis, the sheathed blade was being used as a melee weapon to great effect.
Rigour lashed out with her carbon-composite batons, keeping a wary eye open for her friends. She was there to support them and to watch their backs. There were plenty of heavies to go around, so Rigour concentrated on a pair of men, giving them an instant headache, both physically and metaphorically. The stonework of the surrounding buildings also helped as Rigour took the head of one heavy off a stone, knocking him senseless and leaving a red smear on the light-coloured stonework. The ten-year-old was getting a little carried away as she laid out heavy after heavy while still covering her friends. At one point, both Rigour and Nemesis were attacking the same unfortunate man who was armed with an ASP. With perfect coordination, they rapidly overpowered the man who was much bigger than both females combined, and he thudded to the ground unconscious a few moments later.
There were bodies littering the area, plenty of them, but they were living bodies – out cold, yes – but otherwise alive.
..._...
Seemingly out of nowhere, the pilum flew through the air, straight and true.
Only one person caught sight of the two-metre-long javelin as the metal components glinted under the street lighting. There was no time to shout a warning. There was barely time for her mind to react to the rapid change in events. Prowl moved quicker than she had ever thought possible. With a targeted leap, the girl shoved Glide hard, causing the younger girl to fall to the ground. Glide glared back up at Prowl, angry at the unnecessary rough handling. However, the angry rebuke which Glide had prepared froze on her lips as with mounting horror she saw the object protruding from Prowl's chest. At first, Glide was unsure what it was protruding from Prowl but then her eyes focused on the blood-soaked pyramidal head at the end of a narrow metal shaft, less than a centimetre in diameter. The shaft was about sixty centimetres in length and had passed completely through Prowl's abdomen.
Nemesis had heard Glide's angry yell as she had been shoved to one side, so her focus had immediately turned to the younger girl. Then she had seen Glide staring at something else and Nemesis' focus drifted over to Prowl who was sagging to the ground, landing on her knees. Nemesis was horrified by what she saw protruding from her daughter's body.
"Prowl! Talk to me."
Prowl did not answer. The girl looked up at Nemesis for a moment but then, as she fell to her knees, she hesitated for a moment, swaying, before she fell the rest of the way to the ground. The aluminium shaft of the weapon prevented Prowl from rolling onto her back. Instead, the girl landed on her right side and she did not move again.
"Q – we need emergency medical support, NOW!" Nemesis yelled.
Sunday, January 1st, 2017
Blairhoyle
00:12
It was the New Year, yet she felt like crap, instead of being happy.
The sharp shock to her system just a few days previously had given her pause for thought. Inside, she did not think that she could keep herself out of trouble long enough to prevent herself from being sent back across the Atlantic Ocean. Part of that feeling was caused by depression. She only really had one person whom she felt that she could open up to, and that was Abigail, but she was 3,000 miles away and she was out in Chicago, running about as Fury. Charlotte had spent hours that night trying to figure out what she could do to repair the damage – assuming it could be repaired at all.
After a lot of soul-searching, Charlotte had ultimately decided that she would be better off on her own rather than risking being sent back to the United States where her future would most probably go downhill rather fast at the hands of Hit Girl. It was not a decision which she was taking lightly. She knew that she was betraying all of those who had put their time and effort into helping her, not least, Abigail.
The only question was when.
..._...
Charlotte's thoughts were interrupted as Alexandra knocked on the door to her bedroom and she put her head around the door.
"Charlotte," Alexandra said. "I need to go out – please behave."
"Something wrong?" Charlotte asked as she noticed Alexandra's demeanour.
"Yes – I need to go make some arrangements."
"No problem."
Charlotte listened as she heard the front door slam downstairs and then a car starting up. The girl moved like lightning as she grabbed her backpack from under her bed and dumped it on the bed. It was already packed with some clothing and important personal items. She crammed in some clean clothes and a few other personal items before zipping it shut. Next, Charlotte removed the back from her mobile phone and pulled out the sim chip and battery before dumping it all into the front pocket of the backpack, zipping it up. She pulled on her boots, lacing them up tightly, and she checked that her wallet was in her pocket before she grabbed the backpack and headed out the door. She ran down the stairs and grabbed her jacket off the hook by the front door. Only then, did Charlotte took a deep breath as she pulled open the door. She felt tears running down her face as she stepped out into a raging torrent which quickly washed away her tears. The thirteen-year-old strode purposely down the drive and she was soon at the road.
She turned right and began walking.
Queen Street, Glasgow
00:15
The BMW 1200RT motorcycle raced up the street at speed, its blue strobe lights flashing and the siren screaming.
The motorcycle stood out as that used by a paramedic of the Scottish Ambulance Service thanks to its green and yellow Battenberg markings. As the BMW turned left into Royal Exchange Square where the incident had been reported, the rider slowed and he pulled to a stop beside a large, dark grey Range Rover Sentinel with the registration plate: S4 BRE.
There was a supine form on the roadway with two people crouched over it. A third form stood guard, an assault rifle to his shoulder. The armoured vigilante known as Crimson waved the paramedic forward as the man removed his helmet and he grabbed his bag of tricks from a pannier on his motorcycle. The paramedic knelt down beside the supine form and he found it to be a young female vigilante. He looked up at one of the armoured forms crouched over the fallen vigilante. Nemesis moved back, and she pulled Glide away from Prowl. The paramedic quickly set to work examining the wounded vigilante. The weapon, such as it was, had been severed very close to the wound, both to the front and the back, allowing field dressings to be applied to staunch the blood flow; acts which had probably saved the girl's life. The dressing was removed by the paramedic, and the wound inspected. After a few moments' examination, the paramedic looked up at Nemesis again.
"We need to get her out of here before the ambulance arrives; I am Red Alpha."
Nemesis instantly recognised the 'Red Alpha' code phrase which meant that the paramedic was cleared by MI5 and he could be trusted – to a point.
"She can be moved?" Nemesis queried.
"Yes – just don't shift that dressing for now and keep her as still as possible."
"Will she be okay?" the shorter vigilante enquired in her electronically enhanced voice.
"Yes, she will," the Paramedic replied.
A few miles east of Blairhoyle
00:25
Charlotte was not all that far from what had been her home.
Her mind was focussed on continuing on with her decision and she kept her head down, ignoring the pounding, freezing rain which stung her face. After a couple of miles, she paused and ducked into a gap in the hedgerow to allow an oncoming vehicle to pass. It wasn't until the vehicle passed her that she noticed it was a police car – a BMW. She was about to continue walking when the bright red brake lights came on and the BMW stopped. Then came the blue strobe lights and wig-wag red lights on the roof-mounted lightbar followed by the white reversing lights at the back of the car as the car reversed to where Charlotte stood. Charlotte considered bolting, but she stood her ground as the passenger-side window rolled down.
"Well, hello, young lady – bit early, or late, for a stroll in the rain, I would think," Sergeant Barlow commented from the driver's seat. "Why don't you get in out of the rain, there's a good girl."
Charlotte figured it was more an order than a friendly suggestion, so she obediently pulled open the rear door and climbed in, quickly pulling the door closed behind her.
Glasgow
00:25
The paramedic with SABRE close behind, raced under the cover of blue lights and sirens for the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital.
Brakes and tyres burned as they raced across Glasgow at high speed before racing south through the Clyde Tunnel at almost ninety miles-per-hour. Inside SABRE, Prowl, her mask removed, lay on the backseat with Rigour holding an oxygen mask in place on her friend's face. Prowl had not regained consciousness which was a blessing for all involved. Glide sat with her cousin's legs stretched across her own, sobbing her heart out. They closed the hospital and raced directly onto the grounds, but instead of making for the usual Accident & Emergency entrance as expected, the paramedic made for an almost invisible ramp which descended downward beneath the hospital, down several levels with each turn of the ramp at an acute right-angle. At the base of the ramp, an armed police officer appeared, and after noting the arrivals, he punched a code into a number pad mounted on the wall beside him and a steel roller-shutter opened to reveal a well-lit concrete subterranean garage. As SABRE passed through the shuttered entrance, the steel roller-shutter lowered noiselessly back into position. They turned a corner and then stopped beside the paramedic. Nemesis could not believe her eyes. There was what appeared to be a smart-looking entrance which would not go amiss as that of a large business elsewhere in Glasgow. Standing beside the entrance, a white-coated doctor and two nurses awaited their arrival with a gurney.
Swiftly, Prowl was removed from the back of SABRE and the paramedic began rattling off the youngsters most recent stats as the girl was laid on the gurney and then rushed inside the facility.
A few miles east of Blairhoyle
00:30
"Hello – my name is Sergeant Barlow, and this is PC Bingham. May we know your name?"
"Charlotte Grey."
"Bet you prefer 'Charlie', eh?" Barlow asked good-naturedly. "So, what's the trouble, Charlotte?"
"Just fancied a walk."
"With a backpack? Full of clothes, I'd wager."
"I don't belong there."
"Where? Blairhoyle?"
"Yeah."
The police sergeant looked pained for a moment.
"You're not thinking of going off on one and smashing up my bimmer, are you?"
"Why'd you think that?" Charlotte asked.
"Young Kaitlin went a little wild and she cost me a lot of glass and a complete set of rubber."
"I'm a bit more refined than she is."
"Glad to hear it. Okay, what makes you think you don't belong there, then?"
"I keep fuck . . . screwing up and I don't think they want me there. Everything I do backfires. I tried to protect my friend who was sort of being bullied, but I got into trouble for hitting a boy. Then I went out to Stirling on my own when I was told not to go out. I hate taking orders – I've had too much of that. I knew what I did was wrong but . . . I'm a bad person – I've done bad things."
"Should I arrest you, then?"
"Probably."
"How old are you?" PC Bingham asked as he entered the conversation.
"Thirteen."
"A difficult age, right?"
"I suppose."
"When you get in trouble, do you get told off?"
"A lot."
"Do people go out of their way to keep you on the right road?"
"I suppose."
"Do people enjoy having you around?"
"I think so."
"Do you enjoy being with the people you live with?"
"Yes, a lot."
"What will they think when they find you missing?"
Charlotte paused to consider that statement before responding.
"I hadn't thought about that."
"That's obvious."
"Can you take me home?" Charlotte asked, suddenly regretting her actions.
The car was moving before Bellamy responded.
"You're a smart girl and I'm certain you'll go far. Just give it time. I have two children – a boy and a girl – a little younger than you. They hate their old dad ordering them about, but they know it's for the best."
Bellamy stopped the BMW outside the gates to Blairhoyle.
"If you need to talk, you call me," the man said as he handed Charlotte a card with his contact details.
"Thank you."
Government Bunker
Queen Elizabeth University Hospital
Glasgow
00:30
"Doctor Rob Bedford – I'm the supervisor for the medical portion of this facility," the man said in brief introduction as they watched Prowl being wheeled off.
The man had met the group in a large reception area. He did not seem perturbed about facing three masked individuals.
"This place was built at the same time as the hospital in total secrecy. It is a secure bunker designed for anything from protection during a major terrorist attack to the survival of a nuclear apocalypse. It is not a public bunker, however, but is intended for the Scottish Government of the day as well as the Local Authority."
The paramedic returned after fifteen minutes.
"She's stable for the moment, but she has a severe injury with extensive internal trauma. For the moment, she is heavily sedated and will not regain consciousness for quite a while."
"Can we see her?" Nemesis asked.
"Not right now," the paramedic replied. "Believe me, you would not like to see her right now."
..._..
They sat down and waited for another thirty minutes before an armed police officer appeared escorting a woman.
Nemesis felt immense relief as she saw her mother come towards her. The entire situation as way beyond anything which she knew how to manage. Deep down, she knew that it would not be long before somebody close to her was hurt. But it had still come as a major shock to her. Alexandra had been briefed on the situation by the paramedic who was waiting with Nemesis, Rigour, and Glide. One look at her daughter, still encased in her armoured combat suit was all it took to know that the girl was exhausted – not to mention the two younger girls.
"Go home," Alexandra directed.
"I can't," Nemesis replied.
Alexandra pulled her daughter off to one side and she glared directly into the masked eyes.
"You have another daughter who needs you, Cassandra." The rebuke was sharp, but it snapped Cassie back to the broader picture. "Take the girls back to Blairhoyle. You will have Charlotte for company."
"You contact me the moment you know anything," Nemesis responded.
"I will, honey."
Blairhoyle
02:30
Things could have been going better – a lot better.
In her haste to leave the house, earlier that night, she had not taken the time to grab her door key. Therefore, on her return, after being dropped off by the police, she had not been able to get back into the house. Therefore, she had sat huddled in the front porch, wondering how she was going to explain her sitting there with her backpack when Alexandra returned home. Finally, she heard a car and she bolted out of the porch and around the side of the house, keeping to the dark shadows. Charlotte stopped and listened to the car as it pulled up. The freezing rain had already soaked her hair and it was running down the back of her neck. The car doors opened, and Charlotte heard familiar voices.
"Naomi's in good hands, Kaitlin – please, go upstairs and get into bed, okay?"
"But. . ."
"Go, honey . . . please?" Cassie responded.
"Come on," came another voice which Charlotte recognised as that of Electra.
There was something in their tones. Something was very badly wrong. She watched as Cassie unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Kaitlin followed, her feet dragging on the ground as she walked. Charlotte could not see much detail, but Kaitlin's face was wet, however, it was not immediately clear if that was from the rain or from tears. Something was amiss, and it took a second for Charlotte to notice that Naomi was missing – maybe they'd traded her for Electra. Speedily, Charlotte ran for the door, slipping in immediately behind Electra who turned and frowned at the older girl.
Charlotte simply grinned as she bolted for the stairs.
..._...
Charlotte dumped the backpack in her bedroom and she pulled off her jacket before quickly running a towel over her dripping hair to remove most of the water.
She went to investigate events, and she found Kaitlin lying on her bed, shaking as she sobbed. The youngster had pulled off her trainers and jeans and she just wore her knickers and a T-shirt. Kaitlin was facing the windows, staring out as if into nothing. Charlotte kicked off her boots and she lay down on the bed facing Kaitlin.
"Hi," Charlotte said quietly.
"Hi," Kaitlin replied. "Naomi's been hurt – I'm going to lose her."
The sobbing suddenly reached a crescendo and Charlotte was horrified. She grabbed some tissues from a box on the table beside Kaitlin's bed and she dabbed away the tears as she began to sing to Kaitlin.
A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain
Softly blows o'er lullaby bay.
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting
Waiting to sail your worries away.
Kaitlin smiled weakly as she took hold of Charlotte's left hand with her right and held on tight.
It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain
And your boat waits down by the quay.
The winds of night so softly are sighing
Soon they will fly your troubles to sea.
Charlotte gently wiped away the last of the tears and she moved Kaitlin's light hair away from the little girl's eyes. Then she hesitated slightly as she saw Cassie appearing in the doorway – but Cassie smiled, and she motioned for Charlotte to continue.
So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain.
Wave goodbye to cares of the day.
And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain
Sail far away from lullaby bay.
At the end of the lullaby, Kaitlin was all but asleep. Charlotte slipped off the bed and with the assistance of Cassie, helped Kaitlin under her duvet.
"Can I go to bed, now?" Electra asked from the doorway.
"Go sleep in Naomi's bed, if you want – keep Kaitlin company," Cassie offered.
Charlotte smiled as she left the bedroom and headed for her own to get undressed and into bed.
..._...
Charlotte lay in bed, contemplating events when there came a knock on the bedroom door.
"Hello," Cassie said.
Charlotte pushed back the duvet and she sat up, resting her bare feet on the carpet. She looked down at her feet, awaiting the Heavens falling around her. Cassie lifted the young girl's chin up and she smiled.
"Thank you, Charlie – that was wonderful," Cassie said as she gave the youngster a hug. "I know it's hard being thirteen and I know you've had five years of sheer hell. I promise to do everything I can to make things better for you. Let's draw a line, shall we . . . a new start, maybe?"
"I'd like that," Charlotte replied with a smile as she slid back under her duvet.
"Oh," Cassie grinned as she headed out the door. "You need to make sure your hair is properly dry after being out in the rain or you might just catch a cold."
Charlotte winced as Cassie closed the door.
Later that morning
Sunday, January 1st
10:15
Cassie had not had much sleep, understandably.
After many hours of tossing and turning, she had gone for a walk through the dark corridors of Blairhoyle. She had peered in on Charlotte and found that Kaitlin had wormed herself in with the older girl and both were sleeping soundly. Electra appeared to be sleeping soundly in Naomi's bed . . . thinking of Naomi had brought it all back again. The little girl whom she was supposed to be protecting had been hurt . . . badly. She was supposed to be the little girl's mother and that had meant keeping the youngster out of harm's way. However, that was a little hard when the little girl in question had spent two years being trained to take lives. It was also a little hard when that same little girl was a skilled vigilante working for a notorious vigilante organisation. It didn't matter that Naomi was a wild child who loved to be out there, risking her young life, protecting others, Cassie still felt tremendous guilt for Naomi being where she was, in the condition which she was. A text message had come through, soon after five that morning, to say that Naomi was out of surgery and recovering in intensive care. Cassie had felt immense relief, but the guilt was still there.
By the time Charlotte appeared in the kitchen, she found Cassie nursing a cup of tea and looking more than a little rough. Charlotte had put her midnight stroll behind her and she had awoken remarkably refreshed under the circumstances. After carefully climbing around the sleeping eight-year-old who had invaded her bed, Charlotte went for a hot shower. After the shower, Charlotte had checked in on Electra, who was still fast asleep. Charlotte found ten-year-old Electra to be a little bit dark and creepy for her tastes but otherwise, she liked the girl.
"What's up with Naomi, Cassie?"
"She's in hospital – she's hurt rather badly . . . please don't ask me anything else about her."
"Okay. Can we go see her?"
"Not for a while – she just came out of surgery a few hours ago."
"What can I do to help?" Charlotte asked out of genuine concern for Cassie.
"I'm okay . . . thanks, honey."
"Have you had breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry, Charlie."
"I'll make some bacon butties – you need to eat," Charlotte said as she began organising things.
Cassie did not bother arguing; she was far too tired, and she knew that Charlotte was right.
10:35
"What is that gorgeous smell?" Electra asked as she appeared in the kitchen.
"Bacon butties!" Charlotte responded happily.
"I don't care what they say about you, Charlie, you are a damn good cook," Electra responded as she spied the pile of bread rolls stuffed with rashers of back bacon.
"Sit down, Electra – grab a roll and I'll bring you some tea," Charlotte said.
"I'm hungry," came a weak voice.
Everybody turned to see a little girl clad in just her T-shirt and knickers stumbling into the kitchen. Charlotte manoeuvred Kaitlin into a chair and put a bacon roll in her hands. Kaitlin studied the item for a moment before she dug in with gusto, waking up enough to sip at a hot cup of tea.
"I feel like crap," she admitted between mouthfuls of bread and bacon.
"You look like shit," Charlotte agreed.
"Thanks, Charlie!" Kaitlin grinned.
"Thank you, Charlie," Cassie said to the youngster who was finally sitting down, herself, to eat a roll and drink some tea.
So far, nobody had mentioned the elephant in the room. Nobody had said a word about who was missing. Nobody wanted to be the person to mention Naomi. For the girls, who knew nothing more than they did the previous night, they did not want to ask, just in case something bad had happened to Naomi overnight and the unthinkable had happened. Everybody could remember the day they thought they had lost Harper, only finding out weeks later that she was alive, but very badly hurt. Harper was still recovering and not one hundred per cent by any stretch of the imagination.
Needless to say, it was Kaitlin who finally voiced what most were thinking.
"Is Naomi still alive?"
..._...
All Cassie had been able to do, was nod.
Her emotions did not allow her to say anything and Charlotte winced. She was the only one there who was not aware of the awful truth. She was the only one there who had not seen the trauma which Naomi had endured. Charlotte was aware that there was something going on – that was obvious – however, she had yet to figure things out . . . although she did have some rather outlandish ideas roaming around in her feral mind.
"I'll get the dishes," Charlotte suggested. "You guys can leave them."
"Thank you, Charlotte," Cassie said with a smile.
Once the dirty plates and mugs had been stacked in the dishwasher, Charlotte grabbed Kaitlin and took her upstairs. Kaitlin appeared to be on some form of autopilot and surprisingly, she did not resist as Charlotte guided the eight-year-old into the bathroom and pulled off her clothes. On autopilot, Kaitlin stepped into the shower. There, she stood beneath the hot torrent, not moving. The girl was traumatised, Charlotte could see that without being a psychologist.
Electra was not happy. She could see Kaitlin hurting, and she could see Charlotte wanting to help. Only, Charlotte was not allowed to know anything. Electra had seen how Charlotte had put Kaitlin at ease the previous night and that had been a surprise, considering the older girl's background. But Electra knew better than to betray everything which she held dear. She had insisted on spending the New Year with her friends, rather than her family – they had had her for Christmas, so all was fair. Somehow, the fun time had come to a screeching halt and . . . they had all been through so much. It was Electra's turn to finally give in and she sank down to the floor, tears spilling down her cheeks.
At noon, Cassie received a phone call, from her mother, just as Natasha and Cameron arrived at Blairhoyle. Without hesitation, Cassie vanished out the door with Natasha racing for her car, leaving Cameron to look after the three girls.
Government Bunker
Queen Elizabeth University Hospital
Glasgow
13:10
Cassie had no idea what to expect when she was ushered into intensive care.
She was relieved to find her mother waiting for her. She knew that she would need the support of her as well as Natasha who had insisted on accompanying her. No matter what she was expecting, the reality was a major shock to her system – more than anything. Naomi was all but invisible among the wires which threatened to consume her body. The nine-year-old was naked but for a white sheet which covered her from the waist down. Monitors were attached to her chest, while a pressure band covered her right bicep and was connected to a device along with the wires from her chest which produced multi-coloured lines on a screen. A plastic tube ran over the pillow beside Naomi's head with its long blonde hair and attached to a tube which was secured to her mouth. The opposite end of the plastic tube was attached to a ventilator which made mechanical sounds as it helped the young girl to breathe. The very centre of Naomi's abdomen was covered in a white medical dressing, which was taped in place. Her left ankle had an IV inserted, as did her left wrist and hand. Various transparent fluids were being infused into the girl's body, along with the obvious flow of a deep red substance into a vein.
The sight broke Cassie's heart and she began sobbing uncontrollably as Natasha guided her friend to a chair.
..._...
Twenty minutes later, Cassie was struggling to hold it together when she heard a friendly voice.
"I got here as soon as I could," Blake Schneider said as he breezed in the door wearing his white doctor's coat. "I thought a friendly face might help. I've had a chat with Naomi's doctor and I said that I would run through the prognosis with you."
"Hi, Blake," Cassie said, wiping away her tears. "Thanks for coming."
"I hate having to do this when children are involved," Blake said as he opened up Naomi's chart. "The weapon struck Naomi in the back, taking out part of the tenth rib, on the left side a couple of inches from the backbone. The longissimus thoracis has been pierced as has the latissimus dorsi – those are both key muscles in the back which will take time to heal and will affect Naomi's natural movement, including that of her neck and left shoulder. Her left lung has been punctured, but the major damage has been fixed, so we do not expect any complications, but she will remain sedated and on the respirator for a few more days. The liver was missed by less than a centimetre, but Naomi has lost a very small part of her stomach – nothing which will cause her any problems as she grows up. Her front appears much worse than it really is, but most of that is simply bruising. Naomi will have a long, hard recovery, but she will recover."
Cassie, Natasha, and Alexandra were all appalled by what they were hearing.
14:20
"I cannot believe any of this."
"Cassie, honey," Natasha reassured her friend. "Naomi will be back to her usual obnoxious self before you know it."
"How could I have let this happen – I was right there."
"Don't you dare do that, Cassandra!" Alexandra told her daughter. "Naomi knew exactly what she was getting into. You had no reason to think that it would not have been just like any other night."
"She knew the risks – and she took plenty of her own," Natasha agreed.
"But she is my daughter and I should. . ."
Cassie descended back into sobbing. Natasha looked over at Alexandra who simply shook her head. Blake had observed the conversation and he felt for Cassie. He had seen Keira come apart over Harper – he also knew that Keira was still struggling with the increasingly obnoxious Harper during the girl's lengthy recovery. It was not only Naomi suffering, but it was also everybody around her as well. He knew that while Naomi was not yet out of the woods, she would recover fully. Unlike many children her age, Naomi did not spend all her day eating junk food and fiddling with a phone or tablet before slipping into bed. Instead, Naomi spent many hours exercising, keeping her body trim and fit. It was that enhanced fitness which had kept the youngster alive during some intensive and invasive surgery. The girl had not regained consciousness since the attack, and the sedation would be continued for most of that week. There was no need for Cassie to tear herself apart.
"Take her home," Blake ordered. "Naomi is not waking up anytime soon and she is in the very best of hands. I will make sure to let you know if her condition changes. Now, go!"