“My father was a sports nut.” Jimmy scratched his lip. “But I could calculate precise angles in my head, so it was easy to beat him at football and basketball and pool and baseball and putting and darts. He got so frustrated he once challenged me to an arm wrestling competition.”
“Did you win?”
“I was nine.” Jimmy stared at his hands.
Leslie reached out and took one. The boy looked surprised.
“You want to arm wrestle?”
“I want you to hold my hand.” Leslie smiled shyly. “And I don’t care who sees. There are too many secrets in this place as it is.”
Jimmy reached out and raised an eyebrow.
There was a small metallic disc hidden against her palm.
Leslie gave a grin at his surprise. The boy closed his fingers round the object, feeling lines of circuitry embedded in its smooth surface.
“Will the disk work?”
“It should. May-Rose made it.”
May-Rose shared the other dormitory in Pinewood with Leslie, the only two occupants of the girl’s ward.
“Thank her for me.” Jimmy gave a frown. “Where is May-Rose anyway?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t seen her since yesterday.” Leslie leant forwards, keeping her voice low. “For the past few weeks she’s been totally guarded about any research she’s been doing. I think she’s been assigned to something Top Secret.”
“Leslie. Everything here is Top Secret.”
“I think she may be working in Bunker 10.”
“But that’s the maximum security zone.” The boy couldn’t hide his shock.
Bunker 10 was the base nickname for the furthest, deepest lab on Pinewood’s lowest level. There was the usual whispered gossip about strange viruses and genetic engineering but nobody really knew what the team down there were up to. They rarely came out and, when they did, only talked to each other.
“Why would they have May-Rose down there? She’s only twelve. The youngest of us all.”
“She’s awful smart. And she doesn’t cause any trouble.”
That was true. May Rose was an illegal immigrant from Cambodia, whose family had fled government oppression and sought sanctuary in the UK. When the British authorities had refused their request for asylum, the military stepped in and gave her parents an agonizing choice. Enrol their brilliant daughter at Pinewood or have her sent back ‘home’.
“You know,” Leslie said suddenly. “I’ve never asked the others how they came to be on the base either. I guessed it might be a sore point.”
“None of them talk about it much,” Jimmy conceded. “I know the army recruited Barn because of his mathematical ability. He’s got muscles like Popeye, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly and the kids at his school bullied him. His parents thought he’d be better off here, but I know he misses home. Simon, I’m not sure about but I think his parents are dead. He’s never said why he’s at Pinewood and I guess it’s none of my business. Dave grew up on one of the toughest housing estates in Glasgow. He’s just glad to be out of there.”
The boy sighed.
“I hate to admit it but they probably got Cruickshank because he’s a born troublemaker.”
“Not like you, eh?”
And Jimmy Hicks suddenly felt very guilty. He tipped over the ketchup bottle and spun it on the table.
“One day in maths class,” he said quietly. “I picked up a chair and hit Frank Nitty across the side of the head. I worked out the angle and velocity in my mind to cause maximum damage◦– the blow shattered his cheekbones and nose. I did it in front of the teacher so that I’d be hauled off to the head straight away and his mates couldn’t get me back. Nobody ever bullied me at school again.”
He withdrew his hand, sliding the disk into his own palm.
“Probably because I was expelled.”
He slipped the device into his pocket. There were no witnesses. The soldiers were gone and the lab coats were quietly tucking into bowls of green jelly. They looked exhausted. A fat technician with a bushy beard gave a loud belch.
Leslie reached out and took his hand again.
“A year ago a Staff Officer Hutcheson arrived at my house,” she said. “He asked if I’d ever thought of following in my father’s footsteps. I said not literally, as my dad had a tendency to get shot.”
She laughed awkwardly at the memory.
“He told me I had an astonishingly brilliant mind. He said there was a special teaching facility in a place called Pinewood where ‘exceptional’ children were taught. That I’d receive an education to rival the finest private schools in Britain and, when I was old enough, I’d get a place at Oxford or Cambridge and my studies would be paid for.”
Jimmy gave a short laugh. “I got Warrant Officer Mathis. He told my parents I’d be given proper discipline. A stable and controlled environment, he called it. In return I was to help with the scientific research going on at Pinewood.”
“And agree to five years of military service as a researcher after graduating,” the girl joined in.
“And have my entire family sign the Official Secrets Act.” Jimmy took a deep, shuddering breath.
“My mother was out shopping with my sisters. They hadn’t invited me.” Leslie gave a sad smile. “They never invited me. My father said going into the army would be a huge mistake. He said he only joined to get away from his parents and his boring life.”
She fidgeted uneasily with her short dark hair.
“But that sounded like exactly what I wanted, so here I am. God knows I never thought I’d follow in my dad’s footsteps.”
“For a couple of geniuses, I get the feeling we were played for suckers.” Jimmy was still smiling, but there was no humour in his eyes. “For a few thousand pounds and a signature, the army get some of the finest minds in the country working for them for years. They think they got it made.”
“Like I say, Hicks. No point in seething about it. Hey, did you get me a Christmas present, by the way? I want something practical and yet romantic”
Jimmy reached out and touched Leslie’s cheek.
“I did. Snowshoes. But they double as earrings.”
“Good deal,” Leslie finished her milkshake with a loud slurp and gave Jimmy a mischievous wink. “I better get something from you. Santa doesn’t visit bad girls, you know.”
She slid off her seat.
“See ya later.”
Jimmy watched her flounce out of the door.
“I tell you,” he muttered to the ketchup bottle. “The whole of the British army couldn’t keep me in this place tonight,”
Noon
The line of olive trucks sped through misty Glen Isla valley. Mountains rose vertically on either side of the narrow road, sealing it in shadow. The vehicles were going as fast as the treacherous conditions would allow.
In the lead cab, Lieutenant Dunwoody was now trying to read a map, following the convoy’s route with a thin finger that bounced and slid across the paper. The driver risked a glance at his superior.
“Any luck, sir?”
“It would help if the damned place was on the map. Or Google Earth, at least.”
“Wouldn’t be much of a secret base if it was, sir.”
The Lieutenant scowled at his subordinate and peered out of the rattling window.
“There,” he said suddenly. “On the right.”
Hidden behind one rocky outcrop was a small turnoff, not much more than a track, winding into the heart of the bleakest, steepest peaks. The driver nodded and hauled at the wheel, swerving the truck onto the trail. In the following vehicles, soldiers were flung against each other and tyres squealed as the other drivers took the same course. The men held onto the seats, guns poking between their legs. Through a hole in the canvas they could see the winter sun flashing behind snow laden trees. Unlike army regulars these troops were dressed in jet black combat fatigues and none of them wore identification tags.