‘Alex, Jack, let her finish,’ Ewan said. He noticed a little smile of gratitude on Kate’s face.
‘So none of the missiles got through,’ she continued, ‘but it means someone’s declared war on Grant. Might be more than one country, we don’t know. That’s it, really.’
The room fell quiet, until Ewan noticed McCormick nodding at someone behind him. When he turned, Shannon had lifted a finger to speak.
She repeated everything she had told Ewan on their journey home: how nobody with any sense would attack her father unless the task would become literally impossible later. With AME just days from being operational, the world had launched a last-gasp attack on her father. And they had failed.
Naturally, the conversation led to the test centre at Oakenfold. The other teenagers – Ewan’s last surviving free schoolmates – looked understandably emotional. For some of them, that building had been the one place in the world where life had made sense. Where Silent Simon had been treated as more than just ‘the Down’s kid’, and recognised for the pleasant, nonverbally sociable person he was. Where Gracie had been more than the girl with Global Development Delay, and people tried to meet her halfway rather than judge her. The place that had accommodated Jack after his suicide attempts. The reactions on their faces reflected the love they had all had for Oakenfold Special School.
Going by the lack of surprise on his face, McCormick still remembered everything he had been told about the matter that morning. That surprised Ewan. His collapse could only have been an hour or so after Alex had broken the news to him.
When Shannon ran out of words, McCormick took centre stage again.
‘If Shannon is right about the deadline being midnight on the twentieth, this doesn’t leave us much time. So make no mistake – this will be an intense few days, involving two missions. The first will be a visit to Oakenfold, to learn as much as we can about Atmospheric Metallurgic Excitation. How it works, how the shield is activated, and most importantly how to destroy it. The strike team will consist of—’
‘No,’ said Mark. ‘You don’t get to decide this one.’
Most of the room shot surprised glances at Mark, who sat in his usual pose but with his hands noticeably tense. Ewan wasn’t surprised at the interruption at all: if Mark hadn’t done it, he would have spoken up himself.
‘This is our school they’ve taken over,’ Mark continued. ‘It’s us who should take it back. Besides, we’re the ones who know the place. We know its layout and its weak points better than any of Grant’s people. There’s only one strike team that can possibly do this.’ He pointed his index finger at each former student in clockwise order. ‘Raj, Gracie, Simon, Jack, Kate, Ewan, and me. We’ll be doing this one.’
The room looked back at McCormick who, in true McCormick fashion, was smiling.
‘I absolutely agree,’ he said. ‘You’ve named the exact line-up I had in mind. My suggestion is that you all get some rest now, because you’ll be setting out tonight and striking in the early hours of tomorrow morning. This leaves Alex and Shannon on comms, as Lorraine and I will be, er, unavailable. She’ll start her operation as soon as you leave, so by the time you’re home tomorrow I should be awake again. And on the night of the nineteenth I’ll be ready for action.’
McCormick had said his final sentence with an air of optimism, but it was met with a deathly silence.
He’d better not be saying what I think he’s saying…
‘Ready for action?’ asked Raj.
‘Yes, on the nineteenth we’ll need to find a way into New London, then raid the upper floors and wipe out every trace of AME we find. It’s a tall order, I know, and it’ll take place higher up in New London than we’ve ever reached before. But if we don’t manage it, we lose the war.’
‘But you?’ asked Raj again. ‘You, ready for action? No disrespect but… how old are you, seventy?’
‘Sixty-four.’
‘Oh, that’s OK then.’
‘I’ve been to New London before,’ said McCormick. ‘Just once, but I’ve been. Besides, the kings of old were always on the battlefield for the conflicts that won or lost their wars. It was expected of them. Even in World War Two, the generals joined their privates on the D-Day beaches. It wasn’t like the leaders of today who watch drones on TV from thousands of miles away.’
Ewan could feel rage and helplessness creeping into his mind, and his eyes began to twitch as if tempted to cry. Thomas, who must have been daydreaming through McCormick’s words, laughed about something to do with generals and their privates.
‘Sorry,’ said Alex, clearly not sorry at all, ‘but there’s a reason kings and generals don’t go into combat now. By the time they’re sixty-four they know they’re past it.’
‘Lorraine thinks so too, unless I have my cyst removed. I was lucky enough to get through that mission in December without it bothering me inside the Citadel, but I haven’t risked going back since. And it’s touch and go whether I’ll even be better in time, so the sooner it’s taken out, the better.’
Ewan had no idea what ‘touch and go’ was supposed to mean, but he found himself hoping that McCormick would have a very, very slow recovery. A whole week in the clinic would be worth it to keep the old man away from New London, from the thousands of clones that would try to kill him, and from Oliver Roth. Half a year in bed would be worth it.
He had not thought about that December mission since it had happened, but it had been bloody scary at the time. McCormick had left the house with Mark, Sally and Rachael, all of whom had been Oakenfold students, and none of whom Ewan had trusted to keep him safe. (As if to prove Ewan’s point, to date McCormick had outlived two of them.) Since Ewan himself was still recovering from an ammo raid, he had been left at Spitfire’s Rise with nothing but his fears to keep him company. McCormick had eventually returned, unharmed against the odds but in tremendous pain thanks to that cyst. And once he had arrived home, he had returned to the sight of Ewan smashing up the boys’ bedroom from anxiety.
Ewan brought himself back to the present. He had spent so much time dealing with his own reaction that he had not thought to look at his friends. When he lifted his head from his knees, he found Simon even shakier than normal, Raj’s hands clasped as if in prayer, Jack’s fingers buried in his dishevelled hair and Lazy Gracie actually giving a damn. No wonder Lorraine hadn’t turned up to the meeting.
‘What the hell makes you think Lorraine’s qualified to perform operations?’ asked Mark.
‘What makes any of us qualified soldiers? In these times, we take what we can get. Lorraine’s surgical performance may make the difference between us destroying the AME project and us losing the war, and I can’t think of anyone I’d trust with the task more than her. So on the nineteenth, barring any unexpected injuries, the strike team will consist of myself, Ewan, and at least two others… who I’ll decide later.’
Depending on who’s still alive after Oakenfold…
‘If I can bring more than four of us I will,’ McCormick continued, ‘but it looks doubtful given my entry plan. We can hardly use the water treatment centre again, so I’ve had to think outside the box. Any questions?’