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"They're picking off my… Robert's men," Dale said, correcting himself.

Jack could easily see this kid leading his own division of the Rangers someday. He wanted glory, the adulation that came with bravery. But that was in the future. In Robert's apparent absence, Jack was in charge. "We need to round up as many of our lot as we can, bring them together and make a stand against The Tsar's remaining forces," Jack said, coughing and wondering how much longer he could hold out. This wasn't his first battle of the day — it wasn't his first of the week, or the month — and he'd been tortured by a maniac in the meantime.

Dale nodded, then whistled: a signal for the rest of the Rangers to converge, to make their way into the centre of the grounds. This they did, fending off the soldiers in their way with swords and arrows, fighting more valiantly than Jack had ever seen in his life — in reality or on the silver screen. It made him feel very proud.

They were still outnumbered and outgunned, but none gave up. It was quite a thing to see.

The remaining Rangers were gathering in the spot where Dale and Jack stood, forming a ring. They were being surrrounded by the numbers of soldiers and prisoners still swarming from every part of the castle and grounds.

Backs to each other, the Rangers fired arrow after arrow, stuck The Tsar's men with knives, struck them down with swords. But it was obvious who was winning. As Jack feared it would, the tide had turned, and not even the appearance of Azhar, swords in both hands, cutting and slicing his way through the mayhem, did any good.

"Always wondered what I'd choose for my final number," Dale shouted to Jack.

"What?"

But the youth wasn't listening. He was singing. Lines from a song Jack hadn't heard before, probably one from Dale's old band, or maybe something he was improvising — he was good like that. The words were beautiful and poignant, though, and spoke of kinship, loyalty and of trust.

"So we stand here on the brink,

Hardly able to even think.

Who'd have thought we could make it here,

Together.

What's waiting? Who can say…

But we'll face it anyway.

You can-"

He never got any further because the first of the explosions came. Their heads whipped sideways. These were coming from outside the grounds.

As Jack and Dale looked on, astonished, one of the armoured vehicles positioned at the wall blew up. The Tsar's troops had turned to watch as well.

"Is someone still outside?" Jack asked.

Dale shook his head. "We needed everyone for the assault."

Another explosion, another vehicle going up in flames. Now The Tsar's men were worried. They'd concentrated so much effort on the attack from Dale and his men that they'd taken their eye off the ball where the castle's defences were concerned. The result: somebody was having a merry old time blasting their toys to pieces.

The explosions died down and there was silence for a moment or two. Then:

"Invaders of Nottingham Castle. This is Robert… Robin Hood. Your beloved Tsar is dead."

"Robbie? Well, I'll be," said Jack. "Looks like you were only the warm-up guys, Dale."

The youth frowned and for a second Jack thought it was because of the crack. Surely he can't be mad at Robbie for stealing his thunder, can he? When Dale spoke again, it all became clear.

"I–I left him, on the battlefield. Jack, he was really hurt bad."

"Aren't we all," Jack pointed out.

"No, I mean… bad."

Jack frowned. It did beg the question how in God's name he'd got from there to here, let alone what he was doing talking to The Tsar's men on a speaker system.

The Russians surrounding them were all exchanging blank looks, those who spoke English translating for the rest. It was clear none of them believed what this Hood character was saying.

"Unless you surrender, you will suffer the same fate." With that there was another noise. Not an explosion, but something overhead. The sound of a chopper's blades as it hopped over the buildings next to the castle to hover just above the grounds.

Jack peered up, hand covering his brow. "Is that… Holy smoke, it's Bill!"

The door of the Gazelle helicopter opened and something was dropped into the grounds. The Russians attempted to scatter, thinking it was some kind of grenade. But it was big, more like the size of those old bombs from cartoons. In any event it had landed before they could get very far.

It dropped with a dull thud and rolled into an open part of the grounds the soldiers had vacated.

Jack heard the first of the cries a moment later.

The Russians were backing away, as fast as if it actually was a bomb. However, when Jack, Dale and the others came closer, they saw it was white in colour; with features: eyes, a nose, a mouth.

Jack saw that it was the head of The Tsar.

"Now… get the HELL OUT OF MY HOME!" came a thunderous roar over the speaker. Some of the Russians dropped their weapons right there and then, holding their hands up in surrender. Others made a dash for whatever exits they could find. The prisoners who had been released, while not overly concerned about whether The Tsar was alive or dead, recognised that the tide had turned. They fled, prepared to shoot their way out if necessary.

Dale and the Rangers began rounding up as many of the Russians as possible, but they were too few in number to go after both the soldiers and the escaping prisoners.

It wasn't long before an armoured vehicle came in through the already smashed gates, following closely by a jeep.

Surfing the AFV was Robert, bow in one hand and mike in the other, the cable stretching into the vehicle. He called for help and two Rangers came over. Soon they were carrying a half-conscious Mary from the vehicle. Sophie, who was driving the jeep, needed assistance as well, and a Ranger put an arm around Mark, helping the lad hobble out. Tate was also helped from the jeep, but waved the Rangers away once he was on his feet again. Up on the Middle Bailey, Bill's helicopter was setting down.

Jack and Dale went over, and the first thing Jack did was hold out his hand, which Robert shook gladly. "It's good to see you, boss," he told him. Jack watched Mary going past, saw Mark and Sophie's injuries, and he struggled to fight back the tears. "I'm sorry. This is my fault. I told them where you'd be… I mean, I didn't know you'd be there but they were threatening Mary and-"

"Don't, Jack. It's okay." Robert placed a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder; a hand wrapped in a bloodied bandage. "Really."

"How did you…" Dale began, then: "The last time I saw you, you were…"

Robert held up a finger. "Later, eh? I'll tell you guys everything then. Let's make sure the grounds and castle are clear first, then tend to our wounded."

"Like you?" Jack pointed at the bloodstains at Robert's leg and shoulder.

"We've all been in the wars," Robert said quietly, nodding at the state of Jack.

"Aye, that's one way o' putting it." This was Bill, joining them, and Jack hugged the member of their family he hadn't seen in so long.

Jack felt Dale moving away from his side, going off towards Sophie, asking how she was. Jack also saw the look Mark gave the lad. Even after everything that had happened, there were some things that still needed settling. Lots of things in fact.

But it would take a while, Jack knew that. They'd been here before. Yet that victory had felt so much cleaner, much more final. When they'd ousted the Sheriff it was after a lengthy campaign of terror on his part. The Tsar had managed to achieve more than he did in much less time. And they almost hadn't regained what was theirs. The price had been high. So many injured, including those closest to them. So many dead.