Читать книгу Hector Trogg's Perfect World - P. A. Booth - Страница 6

The man from the British Consulate looked worried. Keith Chatterton moved his face in a way that suggested he was about to speak, but had then decided better of it. He kept this up for some time, with Hector’s almost unflinching gaze adding to his discomfort. He was used to dealing with people who had lost their holiday money, or needed to repatriate the body of a loved one after an accident or heart attack.

Yet, here he was in a small patisserie, opposite two children who had recently destroyed several tanks. When he agreed to work for three weeks in France to cover for holidays this was not what he expected. The assignment was supposed to provide some experience of day-to-day consular activities in France, and yet here he was in a cake shop, surrounded by regular and special forces soldiers, with two armoured vehicles outside. When he had arrived they were loading extra ammunition for the heavy calibre machines guns on the armoured cars. It all looked very serious.

At first he introduced himself to Hector and Kate. They seemed quiet, but that was to be expected given their recent experiences. His warmth towards them had faded somewhat when he read the hastily-prepared French report. Hector was described as, ‘Pleasant, polite and energetic, with an aptitude for machinery, bombs and weapons,’ The report went on to praise Hector’s ability to quickly identify threats and his willingness to act without hesitation when using whatever he found to hand in the most violent way possible. It also described Hector as ‘easy to underestimate,’ pointing out the speed at which he had mastered both the controls of the plane he crash landed and the tank gun he had so recently fired. Keith Chatterton believed the high regard in which the author of the report evidently held Hector probably betrayed the author’s background, as someone who more often appraised soldiers or special forces candidates.

Kate was described as, ‘Mature, likeable and attractive. Calm in a crisis,’ The report also said she displayed characteristics suggesting the same high degree of intelligence her brother possessed. As he read further Keith Chatterton could see that author of the report clearly did not rate Kate as highly, stating that she displayed no inclination towards violent action. The report went on to describe Kate’s part in recent events, including the fact that she had probably gunned at least one plane out of the sky, and had demonstrated skill and calculation in navigating a tank during the recent battle. The report also praised her ‘sensible use’ of the blunt end of an axe head when dispatching a suspected assailant, commenting that the sharp end can so easily become embedded in the attacker’s skull making further assault more difficult.

Keith Chatterton could not understand how anyone who had recently shot down a plane, finished someone off with an axe and then driven a tank with some skill in a real encounter against four other tanks could not be considered at least potentially violent and dangerous. He suspected that the person who wrote the report was as myopic as the sports teacher at his school who had written that he had no aptitude for football, the day after he had scored a hat-trick for the B-team and been awarded Man-of-the-Match.

‘Mr Chatterton I presume,’ said Colonel Bertrand entering with a guard of two soldiers. Keith Chatterton was completely on the back foot. Nothing had prepared him for this, and he stuttered and stammered a reply.

‘Mr Chatterton, please, I do understand this is all a bit out of the ordinary,’ Colonel Bertrand continued, ‘As soldiers we are used to guns, bullets and violence, but even we are taken aback by all of this.’

‘Right, yes’ stammered Chatterton while glancing around at the bright and attractively tiled walls and floor, ‘I am sorry, no, I mean yes, I am grateful for the bravery of your troops in repelling the attack,’ he continued, lapsing into official speak, before continuing in a more honest tone, ‘I’ve read the report, but I do not understand why. To be honest, I don’t understand any of it.’

Colonel Bertrand quickly explained the situation, and Kate was surprised by how much he knew about her and Hector. He even knew the name of her school. He also explained that the tanks had been stolen from a farm, where they were kept by a collector. The farmer and his wife had been found dead. The men in the tanks were believed to be French, from Marseille. They were known criminals, who appeared to have been given money and other inducements.

A common theme, according to Bertrand, was the use of weapons, aircraft and vehicles stolen from collectors. He explained that in some ways it was a clever strategy, as there were many collectors who had all manner of old weapons, including ammunition.

It also became apparent to Kate and Hector that the document Mr Chatterton had been reading was a report on them. Colonel Bertrand apologised for the poor English, commenting that it was rushed and a little rough and ready.

Chatterton explained that he was there to make sure Kate and Hector were safe, and the Colonel explained that they were not safe, but he was doing all he could.

‘Shall we all take afternoon tea?’ said Colonel Bertrand. He saw their surprised faces.

‘We may be in France, but tea can still be found,’ the Colonel continued.

A short time later they were all sat around a small table, with the soldiers guarding them partly hidden by a mass of hanging flowers and other plants. It was a peculiar sight; a boy, a girl, an Army Officer and a well-dressed man in his thirties sat in a French cake and pastry shop surrounded by heavily armed troops, with the door guarded by two armoured vehicles.

Colonel Bertrand poured tea and explained how impressed he was by Kate’s composure under fire, and Hector’s indefatigability.

‘Did anyone die?’ Kate asked.

‘Well, you have to remember that they had come to kill you. They had money, we think they had been taking illegal drugs, and they would not have hesitated. One person died in the tank that turned over. Everyone in the tank shot from the shoulder-launched weapon died,’ said the Colonel.

‘I think Pierre fired that,’ said Hector.

‘Yes, he did well. He is very brave,’ the Colonel replied.

‘Did I kill anyone?’ asked Hector in a small voice.

‘No, Hector. You saved your sister, and I should say with her driving she saved you. You also saved the men on the range. They only had one missile,’ said the Colonel kindly.

‘Were they injured in the tanks?’ Hector asked in a slightly more confident tone, ‘The ones I shot’.

‘No Hector,’ said the Colonel kindly, ‘they all died.’

‘Sorry,’ said Hector, and for a moment he looked quite lost.

‘Hector, they killed themselves,’ said Colonel Bertrand, ‘They were set on murder, they killed a farmer and his wife. They could have tied them up and left them, but they murdered them instead. They took a tank onto a firing range and tried to kill you, your sister and the soldiers on the range. They had already signed their own death warrants. If you hadn’t hit them the helicopters that arrived moments later would have torn them apart.’

Hector looked worried and Kate put her hand on his shoulder. Hector felt shocked. What he did not say, but could not stop thinking about, were the pilots who had died. It was the first time that it hit Hector; he had already killed, but he had not given it a moment’s thought. It had been like a game. Now it felt more real and more frightening.

‘Hector,’ continued the Colonel, ‘it is good that you are worried about someone dying. It is not a good thing that anyone should be killed. Very few of the men under my command will ever have to kill anyone, and almost all that do find that it troubles them. It should have never fallen on your shoulders, and for that I am very sorry. But remember, you did not seek them out. You were having a treat with your sister and they tried to kill you.’

Chatterton was warming to Kate and Hector, and beginning to realise that whatever their extraordinary experiences and background, they were not the violent sociopaths the misleading report had suggested.

‘Hector,’ Chatterton said, ‘I have no experience of guns and tanks, but you were the one who, just by chance had the means of stopping these people. Is this correct Colonel?’

‘Oui, quite correct.’

‘And, had Hector paused, or turned away scared or missed, then there would probably have been several dead soldiers?’ Chatterton continued.

‘Yes, definitely. There’s nothing a soldier can do against a tank. Several were shot at. It was a miracle that we only had one small injury,’ said the Colonel.

‘So, some stupid people effectively killed themselves, and if you hadn’t acted Hector there would be several families in the camp, and maybe elsewhere, who would be preparing funerals for husbands, brothers, fathers. The Colonel is quite correct, it is a big thing, but think of the people who didn’t die, and think about them sat with their families tonight, unharmed and happy.’

Colonel Bertrand nodded a quiet thank you. There was a pause. The only sounds were a quiet radio playing, the breathing of the soldiers and Hector slurping his tea.

‘How did these people know that Kate and Hector were in a tank?’ asked Chatterton, gaining in confidence.

‘We think there are at least two sources, one French and one British,’ said the Colonel, ‘We really do think this, we are not just saying there is a British source to even it up and escape any embarrassment.’

‘What’s a source?’ asked Hector.

‘Someone who is leaking information to the criminals,’ Chatterton explained.

‘The plan now,’ said the Colonel, ‘is to clear the camp of some families and staff, take you back there and wait for an attack. If no attack comes you will go back to England.’

‘No zoo trip then?’ asked Hector, ‘The important person in Paris said we could go to the zoo.’

‘The important person in Paris; you remember Hector the one who was speaking when you ruined my aquarium? Well that person; the same one who you told about me not listening to his call because I was rescuing fish, getting me into all of that trouble? Yes, Hector, you remember? Well, he might be the source, the leak,’ said the Colonel. Kate could see Pierre and Andrè grinning at each other.

‘The important person will not expect me to take you to the zoo after the attack today, so that is exactly what I will really do,’ said the Colonel.

‘We will make it look as though you have returned to the camp. In a while, I want you to get into the armoured car and out of the other side into the small car that is waiting. You will go with Pierre, Andrè and Mrs Warp.’

‘Mrs Warp!’ exclaimed Kate, ‘I thought she was dead.’

‘There is more than one Mrs Warp,’ Colonel Bertrand explained, ‘And this time, because of the malfunction, I want both of you to have a remote override.’

The Colonel presented them each with a small round disk with a red button on it.

‘All you have to do is press the button and Mrs Warp will obey your next command no matter what it is,’ said Colonel Bertrand.

A noise outside drew Kate’s attention. There was activity; two people were speaking with the soldiers.

‘Ahh, but this is why we are really here,’ Colonel Bertrand said with a huge smile on his face.

Hector looked to the window.

‘Kate, Hector,’ said Colonel Bertrand to attract their attention, ‘I have some generally good news. Your father is much recovered, but he has suffered a small amount of brain damage.’

Hector just stared at the Colonel, while Kate felt as though her chair had suddenly been dragged from under her, allowing her to slip into the underworld.

‘It is not so bad,’ said the Colonel quickly as he saw their reactions, ‘but this is why you have not seen him. However, he has still not completely recovered. People who have head injuries can feel depressed sometimes for months afterwards. He may also be more bad tempered.’

‘More bad tempered?’ questioned Hector, ‘How is that possible? When our outhouse was burgled, and Dad saw two men with iron bars breaking in, he chased them all through the park, even on the cycle path.’

‘There isn’t a cycle path in the park,’ Kate corrected, ‘I think you mean like a psychopath. That’s how everyone describes him; a deranged psychopath.’

‘Well, your father is very welcome to chase burglars around the local town here, I would enjoy the spectacle,’ said the Colonel. ‘However, the key thing is that we must all be patient and kind and understanding, even if he is a little angry about things. Remember, he has been very worried about you, and your mother has been ringing me almost every hour.’

The four of them sat in silence for a minute while Mum and Dad displayed their passports and were checked for weapons, made their way past the guards, and then through into the small cafe.

Kate immediately ran to hug them both. She was followed just after by Hector, who felt unsure what to do, until Colonel Bertrand gave him a firm push. Mum was in silent tears while Dad had a very grim and set look on his face.

It was Mum who first broke the silence.

‘Thank you very much for looking after them,’ she began, speaking to Colonel Bertrand. Keith Chatterton quickly introduced himself, and then sat down again.

‘Mrs Trogg, you have two clever, resourceful and very brave children. In the latest attack, it was your children who saved some of my men,’ said the Colonel, as Kate and Hector both went red, basking in the praise, and yet embarrassed by the attention.

‘There’s been another attack?’ asked Dad.

Colonel Bertrand explained what had happened on the tank range. Mum listened in open-mouthed horror as the Colonel described events. Again, Kate was surprised by how much Colonel Bertrand knew. The Colonel again lavished praise on Hector and Kate, and it was then that Dad really spoke for the first time.

‘What the hell were they doing in a tank?’ he shouted, staring straight at Colonel Bertrand.

The Colonel took a deep breath and explained that it was a treat to distract them, that he had incidentally been ordered to do this, but also that a tank was normally a very safe place to be.

‘Not on a bloody battlefield it isn’t!’ Dad shouted, continuing to stare aggressively at the Colonel, ‘You were supposed to be protecting them, not asking them to man the guns because everyone else was off cooking and cleaning.’

The Colonel paused again, and then started to explain that he could understand that it had been a horrible time, and that Dad was worried and angry. However, he had to appreciate that there had never been a case of anyone stealing old tanks and attacking an army firing range before.

‘I don’t give a damn about your weak excuses,’ Dad yelled, picking up a cream cake from the table and throwing it at the Colonel.

‘Dad!’ exclaimed Kate.

‘Trevor!’ pleaded Mum.

Thick dollops of cream splattered the Colonel’s otherwise immaculate uniform. Hector could see Andrè and Pierre trying to conceal their grins.

Colonel Bertrand had obviously decided to take another pause and a much deeper breath. He looked down at his uniform and flicked a blob of cream away. Unfortunately, the blob jetted through the air and landed on Dad’s arm.

Dad flew to the counter and picked up two more cakes and hurled them at the Colonel. The Colonel’s temper had finally snapped, and while muttering something in French, he hurled one of them back.

Mum and Kate were looking on in horror, but Hector was suddenly back in his element. He had missed the food fight at school between two of his friends just by accident, but now was a chance to make up for that big style.

Hector darted for some cakes and began to hurl them at Andrè and Pierre, hoping to get them into the fight. Dad and the Colonel were throwing food at each other, but they both really meant it, as if this was the only way they could avoid getting that little bit closer and throwing punches.

To Hector’s disappointment neither Andrè nor Pierre retaliated. Some of the other soldiers, who took some pretty impressive direct hits with parts of a baguette and some pastry nibbles, looked like they were considering it, but Hector noticed a warning raised eyebrow from Pierre and all resistance faded.

It was Chatterton who eventually intervened, pleading for peace and common sense.

‘All of you have had the most extraordinary and stressful time. No one has died. I think we need a break.’

‘How can anyone die, we’re only throwing food,’ said Hector, with his usual spectacular bad timing. There was silence as everyone looked at Hector, and it felt very different to when the Colonel was praising him.

Pierre then intervened, explaining that the zoo would be a good place to be together as a family, and suggested they cleaned themselves up. The cafe owner was just appearing with paper rolls, looking angry and muttering about payment in broken English.

‘Will we be safe?’ was the only thing Dad managed to say.

‘I don’t believe you are safe anywhere,’ said Pierre, ‘but a false trail is being laid back to the camp and that will help. Several of us will guard you.’

‘Do you have experience of this?’ Dad asked, his face stern.

‘We will do our best, and yes we have experience,’ said Andrè, ‘My colleague here just destroyed a tank with a shoulder launched missile while under fire from a machine gun, so our best is, how you say, not bad.’

There was a pause before Dad seemed to sag.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I should be grateful. I seem to get cross very easily.’

Colonel Bertrand said nothing, but walked out past Dad, while laying a hand on his shoulder.

‘He has had quite a tough time too,’ Pierre said once the Colonel had gone.

As they made their arrangements to leave Hector noticed that Andrè had several pictures of the aftermath of the food fight on his mobile phone. Even Hector appreciated that they would soon be distributed around the camp.

Hector and Kate had little problem crawling through the armoured car and out the other side into the small Citroen hidden from view. Dad and Mum found this a surprising and cramped introduction to Hector’s and Kate’s new world.

Worse was to follow. As soon as they were in the car a small old man got into the driving seat and explained using grunts and rapidly spoken French that they should all get down and cover themselves with blankets. There was a smell to the car, and Kate wondered if it was more commonly used for moving goats or other small livestock.

The car took several attempts to start, and sounded more like a large lawn mower than a normal vehicle. It lurched forward, and the bumpy trip to the zoo began. Nothing could be seen, but the old man’s driving seemed erratic and at times alarming.

It was strange that their family reunion should continue in a moving car under the blankets, with the smell of petrol and goats. The sound of the road rushing just inches below poured through a couple of rusting holes in the bare metal floor.

‘Trevor, I know you think they have not done well, but I couldn’t believe it when you started a fight,’ said Mum, in a tired tone.

‘I didn’t start a fight, I just threw a cake,’ explained Dad.

‘And Hector,’ Mum continued, ‘you didn’t need to join in. Your father was very angry, and we’ve both been very worried, but you had no excuse. That was just bad behaviour. I expect you to apologise to Colonel Bertrand and his soldiers.’

‘Yes Mum,’ said Hector in his resigned tone.

‘Well there’s one good thing,’ said Kate, ‘Dad and Hector have got to be the only people on earth who have ever taken on the French special forces with cream cakes and pastry nibbles.’

As the conversation continued, Kate was struck by how much Mum and Dad knew. They had clearly been kept fully informed. Dad said very little, while Mum kept alternating between being angry and tearful. She was obviously surprised they were not gibbering wrecks, but also relieved that they were not full of bullet holes or wrapped in bandages.

When the car eventually stopped, and they were told to remove the blankets, they found themselves on a narrow street between old buildings. Kate and Hector were both surprised to be let out onto the street with no guard. They were even more surprised to see Mrs Warp round the corner and walk smartly towards them.