J had decided that Brett and Wolf should travel to Cheshire the following evening and meet
the parents and grandma of the top four British players. However, as the fifth player was in
the care of social workers because he had no parents, it was deemed satisfactory to tell him
what was going on once all the children had arrived at the SAS training camp near Brecon.
This was an ultra secret satellite to the main base in Hereford, located in the shadow of The
Black Mountains and The Brecon Beacons of South Wales. The general public thought
everything happened at Hereford further to the north, but the £200 million investment by the
last labour government, had allowed the SAS chiefs to secretly relocate to the new and more
sophisticated base. The core of any training remained the same – physical endurance and
mental strength in the wildest places on earth, man against nature. But the new establishment
had taken this three stages into the future, ensuring the SAS would remain the best in the
world.
Brett and Wolf pulled up outside of the Ponsonby-Smythe’s mansion in Wolf’s silver Range
Rover at precisely eleven pm. The local police had asked both sets of parents and grandma to
be available from 10 pm and to keep the appointment confidential. It also meant that all of
the children would be in bed and asleep, two policewomen were sat in The George’s and
grandma’s houses as babysitters. Therefore, the circumstances and unknown agenda of the
meeting meant that all of the parents were in a high state of anxiety. All they knew were that
representatives of Her Majesty’s government wanted to speak to them about the children.
Grandma was asleep in the corner, she wasn’t anxious at all, which was very surprising. She
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had also drunk a couple of sherries and now she was snoring loudly and oblivious to the
others who were arguing about nothing.
Maria was pontificating. ‘Eton is such a good school Jennifer. They sit the international
baccalaureate you know. It is so much harder than GCSE’s, much more of a test.’ The tone
and the subject made Jennifer seethe inside. The snobbishness of Roger’s mother was
particularly offending that evening, probably because she was so worried about why they had
all been pulled together. What could the four children have been up to now?
She bit her tongue as she politely responded. ‘I’m sorry Maria, any exams are only as good as
the child. They all have the same brain power but some choose not to use it.’ This response
was sufficient to keep Maria quiet and gave Rupert an opportunity to chide Jonathan about
their recent cricket match.
‘Shame about your six missed catches old boy. If you had managed a 33 per cent success
statistic we might have won the game.’
Jonathan had his arms crossed. ‘What is a success statistic Rupe?’ Rupert hated being called
that. ‘The flipping ball was wet for god sake’s; anyone with steamed-up glasses would have
found it hard to make those catches.’
Jennifer looked daggers at her husband to make him tone it down. As they stared at
everything in the room except each other, there was a welcome knock at the door and Rupert
quickly rose to answer it. He quickly let the visitors in and noted the two police constables
standing in the shadows of the garden.
Wolf and Brett walked into the lounge and shook hands with them all. They introduced
themselves as Edmunson and Halsall, briefly flicking open their false passes, which declared
them to be employees of The Ministry of Defence. Grandma studied Wolf’s ID card closely
and sniffed as she handed it back. She noted how athletic they both appeared and the smart
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cut of their dark blue suits. Once everyone was settled back in the chairs, it was Brett who
started to speak.
‘Our government have been monitoring an online gaming scam and unfortunately the four
children have all been caught up in it. However, there is absolutely nothing to worry about.’
Grandma wagged a finger at Brett. ‘You are spies aren’t you?’
He was relatively honest with his reply. ‘We represent the nation’s security services
Madame.’ His face was expressionless as she replied. ‘We were always taught that when
someone says “there is absolutely nothing to worry about” – we should worry.’ Grandma sat
back after delivering her words of wisdom. Wolf noted the word taught and wondered what
grandma was inferring.
Wolf decided to give them some more details. ‘We have selected your children to receive
special Facebook training as they are the best in Britain at a particular game called “world
domination”. This is where the potential scams may occur.’
Jonathan was sceptical. ‘So not scams actual. Just scams potential? And what might be the
objective of these scams Mr Edmunson?’
Wolf opened his hands in supplication. ‘Simple manipulation of stocks and shares Mr
George. A financial scam, to be auctioned sometime in the future and utilising the players of
this Facebook game called “world domination”. That’s why we want to work closely with the
best players, ones who can be trusted and that is the four friends.’
It was Jonathan again who bluntly replied. ‘Come off it, you should tell us the truth and
maybe, just maybe we can understand why you are here. You do know that this is my area of
expertise in The City?’
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Brett took over from Wolf. ‘Mr Edmunson and I can’t tell you the whole truth sir as it is
covered by the official secrets act. In fact, the truth is totally bizarre sir. If we tell you
everything you become a security risk.’
Jonathan was annoyed too. ‘Tell us what our children will do over the next three weeks and
where they will be.’
Wolf answered. ‘We can’t tell you where. We can’t let you speak to them and the specialist
training might help one or more of them on their mission.’
Jonathan laughed loudly. It was a very strained atmosphere and he was nervous for his boys.
‘Mission? You make them sound like mini James Bonds.’
‘And Jane Bond’ said grandma.
Wolf continued. ‘We want them to understand all the threats they may experience whilst
playing the game for real and to develop a mindset to never give up. But! This will be done in
a fun way. As if they were on a PGL holiday.’
Jennifer added. ‘Jack will enjoy that,’ but Jonathan wanted nothing to do with the faceless
men’s vague plans.
‘Hold on Jennifer, just hold on. I want to know how safe they will be when training and I
definitely want to know what they will be doing if selected.’
Rupert and Maria held their heads up high. ‘Our Roger can come on the training Mr
Edmunson and Mr Halsall and we hope he is the one to go on the mission. We know our son
would do anything for God and The Queen.’
Jonathan was on his feet. His wife was pulling at his trouser leg to encourage him to sit
down. ‘It’s easy for you two to say that. We have both Jack and Timmo to consider and
Timmo is only 9 years old for god’s sake.’
‘Duty is duty Jonathan.’ Rupert was adamant.
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‘Duty or not, Rupe. We are talking about two children who represent our dreams and hopes
for the future.’ The rest listened to Jonathan and silently agreed. There was a pregnant pause
and the two agents remained quiet. They had been trained to leave a silence, it tempted others
to fill it and say more than they should. Two ears and one mouth was the maxim.
Grandma had also remained quiet, she was eyeing up the two officials. She decided the
messing about needed to stop. ‘Show me your gun Mr Halsall. I know that is probably a false
name.’ He looked across at her and pulled out his Magnum. ‘Thank you, I just wanted to
know how serious you were.’
Brett asked quietly. ‘Do you have any questions m’am?’
‘No I don’t. You know why, don’t you?’
‘Yes m’am. You were an agent of the Secret Service in World War ІІ and served four years in
France as one of the greatest spies in history.’ Wolf was staring at Brett in disbelief, the yank
knew more about the Brits than the Brit. ‘Your records were exemplary and you received The
George Cross for bravery. It was for the action on the day your husband was shot by the
Gestapo. If I remember the files, you blew up the bridge at Meaux in order to stop the Nazi
advance.’
Grandma was nodding, the memories still made her very sad 68 years later. Her eyes were
watering as she replied. ‘Yes my boy. So I know what you are and therefore I also know that
what you are telling is true and necessarily vague.’ She sighed deeply, this was a difficult
decision. ‘I have no hesitation in saying my Kate can help you out. She is a brave girl and I
know she will come home safe.’ Everyone wondered how she could know that but there had
been rumours in the village about grandma’s predictions. ‘However, I want to know how
serious is this matter that takes our children away?’
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Wolf turned to them all. ‘I can only tell you all that it is a time when the whole world is under
threat and your children can save it.’ All of them were shocked, but now they realised why
they were being asked to allow the impossible. Allowing their children to be used by the
government’s Intelligence Services.
The George’s were in a predicament. How could they now refuse to allow Jack and Timmo to
be trained when both their friends had already been volunteered? The world was threatened...
Jonathan caved in. ‘Okay guys, but we need a liaison officer. Someone to come and chat
every couple of days, even if it is only for a cup of tea. We don’t need the detail, we just want
to know they are all safe or...’ he swallowed deeply. There were tears in his eyes. He couldn’t
say safe or not.
Wolf acknowledged the emotion. ‘You have my word Mr George. But now we must leave. At
5 am a bus will collect all the children from here. They don’t need to bring anything with
them, not even a toothbrush and we will provide suitable clothing at the training centre.’
There were nods all round. ‘Please help us by telling them three things before they leave.’ He
slowed his words to make them stick. ‘Firstly, their gaming skills might help the world avoid
a catastrophe. Secondly, they are going to a training camp like PGL. A place to have fun.
Thirdly, tell them you love them and that you are supporting this decision.’ Wolf and Brett
stood immediately. He walked behind Brett to the lounge door held open by Rupert.
Wolf turned back a final time. ‘Please trust my colleague and I. My personal experience of
life is without parents and it helps me to understand how you must feel. It also helps me
mentor the children over the next few weeks. I promise to do my best for them.’ He swivelled
on his heel and joined Brett in the Range Rover to head to their hotel in Chester and a
welcome four hours sleep. There was no further discussion to be had. The George’s and
grandma walked home in silence.
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At 3.45 am, Kate sat on grandma’s rocking chair in the kitchen. There was a single lamp on
top of the pine dresser and its light cast eerie shadows.
She spoke to the cat who was cradled in her arms. ‘Sometimes, I swear you can read my
mind Wispy. Please take care of grandma for me, she is all I have left.’ She ruffled the fur on
the cat’s furry belly as it squirmed on its back and then she placed her on the floor and turned
away with tears pouring down her red cheeks. Kate heard grandma coming down the creaky
stairs and hastily dried her eyes.
‘I see you’ve been crying Katey? Grandma cuddled her close.
‘It’s the fear of the unknown.’
‘You have nothing to fear my dear. There is no unknown. You and I have our paths which are
already set and there is nothing we can do about it.’
Kate thought about the wise words and hugged grandma closer. ‘You always know what is
going to happen, don’t you?’
‘Sometimes Kate. In fact most times, if the things are important to you or me. I know that
you are doing incredible good for our world and I know that you will return to Wispy and I.
That is sufficient knowledge.’ Kate picked up her small bag containing a reading book and
some make-up and then she and grandma left the cottage hand in hand to walk to Roger’s
house. There was a full moon and it momentarily emerged through a break in the clouds and
bathed everything to make it nearly as light as day. Then it went back behind the dark low
clouds that forebode rain.
At the mansion, Licko was sat next to Roger. Licko’s dark brown eyes looked extremely sad
to Kate as she walked into the lounge and sat beside them both.
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She touched Roger’s arm and then ruffled Licko’s head. ‘They say animals sense things.’
‘Urm,’ he wasn’t quite awake.
‘Are you Okay Roger?’
‘Urm.’ She gave up trying to have a conversation as Jack and Timmo waltzed in.
‘Hi, isn’t it fabtastic, that we are going on an adventure.’ Jack was full of excitement.
‘Urm,’ said Roger.
Jack continued. ‘Like on a PGL holiday and even better, training to be spies!’ Kate and Roger
hadn’t appreciated that.
‘Spies?’ Asked Roger as he suddenly woke up.
‘Yes, so we can go on a mission to save the world.’ Jack’s mum had told her children a lot
more than the other parents. As Jack walked animatedly around the room, Timmo curled up
on the sofa and closed his eyes, it was very early for a 9 year-old boy. Kate now had her
hands to her mouth, shocked by the enormity of it all, whilst Roger was trying to remember
the plot of the last James Bond movie he had watched on his IPad.
They heard a squeak of brakes outside and were soon ushered onto an old military bus to sit
uncomfortably on thin brown leather seats. The last hugs with their parents had been too
quick and the only words said were ‘be safe’.
* * *
Wolf had stood by the driver and shook hands with each child as they had climbed aboard. He
called them by their surnames alone. Timmo was deemed to be Little George and Jack was
just George. They sat quietly and obediently near the front of the bus and were surprised
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when Wolf introduced the fifth boy, who was hidden in the shadows on the bench seat at the
very rear.
‘My name is Wolf and that’s Hines. He’s also on your training course.’ No words were
exchanged between the children and they all lapsed into a reverie as the rickety old bus rolled
steadily through the early morning dawn as it started to rain lightly. Marshall Hines had
woken from a brief nap as the others had climbed quietly aboard. Since being collected from
the children’s home, he had used sleep to drive away his fears. His mother had failed to return
from work a month previously and when he had gone to the police all they could do was
involve the local Social Services team to ensure he was safe in shelter. No one had told him
why he was on the bus, he had guessed that he was being taken to another home.
All the children remained awake and chatted quietly, physically well away from Marshall
Hines. He felt left out of everything, shunned by the boys and on occasion stared at by the
girl; all he could think about was his mum. He missed her desperately and tears poured down
his face in the dark. He glanced down the poorly lit bus towards Kit Kat. She was such a girly
girl with a yellow and white checked dress and black pumps. He said ‘god knows’ under his
breath for the hundredth time and focussed on the never ending road in front of the driver. He
had memorised every road sign since leaving London in case he wanted to run back to his
home, but what was the point? By now the council would have re-housed someone into their
flat.
‘What does SAS stand for?’ said Timmo, ‘Is it an airline or something?’ Hines listened
closely for a clue about his new location.
Jack teased his brother. ‘You dimmo, Timmo. SAS means Sausages And Sauce, that’s the
only food you are allowed to eat in the training camp.’
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‘Urm! Yummy scrummy, I can’t wait to get there and have breakfast then.’ Replied Timmo
the complete dimmo. Jack delighted in misinforming his brother but now he had also
confused Marshall as well. Roger was looking out of the window and being serious compared
to The George brothers. It was pouring with rain by now as they headed southwards on the
M50 motorway but the sun occasionally glinted through gaps in the clouds. The spray from
passing lorries meant he could barely see the rolling green hills of Herefordshire through the
condensation running down the glass of the old army bus.
He corrected his best friend. ‘SAS stands for Special Air Service as you well know Jack. One
of the top anti-terrorist units in the world, renowned for their work in Afghanistan for
example, when they took out the Taliban HQ in Kandahar. Their motto of course is ‘who
dares wins.’
Wolf turned to face them all from his vantage point by the driver, by the door. A place to be
defended or a place to prevent escape. There were no other doors on the bus.
‘Heads down everyone! I don’t want any guards or passing soldiers catching site of you
inside the camp.’ The five children dutifully squatted behind the seats and stayed in position
until ordered to rise by Wolf as the bus pulled up ten minutes later. ‘Out! Shore, you go first.’
‘Why?’ She was feeling peeved by Wolf’s attitude, she didn’t like the use of surnames to
address colleagues and certainly not friends. ‘What’s your name then?’
‘Firstly you get out because I told you so, it was an order.’ He wavered slightly, it was a child
after all, ‘and secondly because you are a lady and lady’s should always go first.’ As an
afterthought he added, ‘My real name is unimportant, everyone just calls me Wolf.’
‘Thank you Mr Wolf’ and she flounced past him and walked down the metal steps. As Kate
stepped onto the pavement, she noticed Sergeant Sargent standing on the wet pavement,
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thankfully the rain had stopped. He was standing to attention with a large burnished stick in
his right hand. He cocked his left eye and stared at her before barking an order.
‘Line up next to me please Miss.’ She shuffled next to him and waited for the others to alight.
With the boys he was less polite. Each time he barked out an order, ‘come here boy’ or ‘not
that way George’, the commands made her jump each time. ‘Hoy! You!’ He stopped Hines
walking the wrong way. ‘Now then, now then,’ he prevented Roger from crossing the road as
a silver Range Rover pulled up. Eventually the five children were lined up alongside him and
the two adults joined them.
‘My name is Brett. This is Sergeant Sargent and we will be looking after you. You have
obviously met Wolf who is on the team.’ He gave them a moment to stare around at their
surroundings.
Jack was the first to comment. ‘This training camp looks more like a caravan park. A lovely
place, just like when we went on our “hols” in Wales last year.’ Wolf looked around sharply
and stopped himself asking the boy to remain quiet. He was struggling with the fact they
were children being asked to perform an adult’s job. Sergeant Sargent forced the line of
children to bundle closer to one another. He too had forgotten they were just kids and not
SAS recruits.
Wolf used a softer tone. ‘You are very much mistaken George. This is the holiday from hell.
Do you understand?’
Jack gulped. ‘Yes sir.’
Wolf’s reply was still quite hard and cold. ‘Yes Wolf.’ He demanded their respect in the most
insignificant of ways.
‘Yes Wolf.’ But Jack wasn’t afraid of him. He was being polite.
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Brett stepped in. ‘This is an SAS training facility where you will be taught many exciting
new skills. Each day you will receive specialist anti-terrorist training. For example, using
aerial ropeways, shooting machine guns, firing bazookas, driving tanks and fast boats etc.
Maybe learning to fly and to parachute but only in case of an emergency.’
‘Wow!’ Timmo had finally woken up. ‘Tanks! How fabtastic.’
‘Follow me!’ Wolf led the way into a large cream static caravan labelled St. Davids and
turned sharply right towards the rear double bedroom. They stopped again whilst he lifted the
foot of the double bed. Instead of stored duvets and sheets, they were astonished to see a wide
set of steps lit by a single fluorescent light. ‘Come!’ He was a man of few words as he
stepped down without looking back. Sergeant Sargent followed up the rear to ensure no on
“got lost”. ‘Sergeant, lower the bed behind you.’
‘Yes sir.’
At the foot of a dozen steps was a passageway. The walls and ceiling were painted with
white gloss and the floor was in a dark matt green. It was immaculate without a smudge of
dirt. After walking a few hundred metres they came to a metal blast door with a large round
handle that Wolf spun anti-clockwise to unlock. It swung open slowly and ponderously to
reveal a hive of activity.
He stood in front of the group. ‘You train here and sleep upstairs, okay?’
‘Okay’ came a mumbled reply in unison as the five children stared transfixed by the new
underground facilities of the SAS. To their right was a gym and beyond it a boxing ring
where two soldiers were sparring. To the left were more than 100 men and women sat in front
of a dazzling array of computer screens. Some displays showed aerial shots of Afghanistan
taken by the stealth drones circling high above the Taliban camps. The small aeroplanes were
controlled by the joysticks mounted in front of the operatives, at a distance of 6000
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kilometres from the drone. Other screens monitored SAS soldiers vital symptoms such as
heartbeat and brain activity as they mounted an attack against a terrorist base in Southern
Yemen. There was too much to take in, but at the centre of the facility was a training
operation that excited Jack and Timmo and made Roger and Kit Kat swoon with fright.
Soldiers were leaping off a 100 metre high tower with a bungee cord fastened to their ankles.
Free falling with their arms outstretched, they reached the limits of the rubber cord and
stopped within a few centimetres of the floor before bouncing back. This gave them time to
grab the blissfully unaware sheep that was bleating plaintively beneath them. As the soldier
jerked upwards, the sheep was clasped safely in his arms but was jerking about trying to free
itself from his strong arms.
Jack spoke first. ‘How cool is that! But why the woolly whiner?’
Wolf explained. ‘A large Welsh sheep, preferably four years old, gives the best feel for a real
human being. It struggles and shouts and so do our captives sometimes,’ he glanced at Kit
Kat who was deathly white, ‘and women must also learn “the snatch” as we call it.’
‘Because?’ she said.
‘Because whether from a helicopter or a bridge we may need to snatch back hostages or
snatch the baddies. Okay?’ She didn’t reply, the concept had made her stricken with fear.
‘Right, let’s get some breakfast. How about it Sergeant?’
‘Yes sir!’ The sergeant spoke in a loud bellow, he had no volume control. Ironically, the only
food left in the soldiers Mess were sausages and brown or tomato sauce as jokingly predicted
by Jack.
Marshall sat next to the other children for the first time and chatted. It was Kate who asked
him where he lived, did he like the “world domination” game and what did he think of the
training camp. He gave her short answers but at least he and they felt more of a group,
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especially when the ice was broken by Timmo. The dimmo squeezed the ketchup bottle