Kenwood. pt2

Harold sat in the study of his bunker in London, his forces were being routed all along the front and he was starting to lose his grip on what little sanity he possessed. He was convinced that all of his Generals were in league with his nephew, with the intent of feathering their nests under the new King. What he didn't realise was, that every single General was doing everything they could to push back the Loyalist forces. They knew that under Arthur, they would face, at the least jail, at the worst, execution. But to Harold, the Staff officers he commanded, were nothing more than incompetent and traitorous dogs. Over the past year, everything he relied on fell in a heap and he was faced with complete and total defeat. He looked at the journal he was writing, to him it was a work of true art and decisive military doctrine. To anyone that looked over his shoulder would see nothing, except random words and scratchy pictures, but Harold saw pages and pages of ideas, plans and designs that would push back the rebels and bring about a swift and conclusive end to the civil war. He would then own the Sword of Power and he could then set about subduing and ruling the rest of the world.

No one would enter his study any more, the last three servants had been bashed and one was even shot, Harold claiming he was trying to poison the King, even though he was simply bring the latest correspondence for Harold to peruse. In his broken state of mind, he didn't even remember the incidents, and if he was to be honest, the quiet and solitude of his rooms was soothing and allowed him to work on his final solution. He was convinced that the Catholic Church and the Northern Christians had conspired together to defeat him and bring about a new age of Catholic rule. It didn't matter that almost every soldier aligned against him was Protestant and looked to Arthur as the head of the Church. Those who were Catholic had agreed that there was no greater threat to all freedoms than Harold and his rampaging psychosis. In Harold's mind, there would never be a peaceful time with the Catholics and the Muslims still able to walk the face of the Earth. He smiled as he thought about the work that was being done at Kenwood House, of which only three men knew what the true nature of Professor Albert Ironstones work was about and the intended use of his amazing discoveries. Harold, General Shillington-Smythe, and his supreme General, Atticus Renfrey, a sycophantic true believer if there was ever one.

When Shillington-Smythe had approached the King with the news that his men had captured one of the worlds greatest scientists, Harold was initially non-plussed. But, the General explained just exactly what Ironstone was working on, and more importantly, it's potential applications, and Harold was able to revive the dream of the Sword again. To be able to wipe that smug little arse of the face of the Earth with one telling and dynamic bomb was enough to send Harold into fits of laughter. Shillington-Smythe saw his star rocketing across the sky, and he fed the mad king all the encouragement he could imagine. This allowed Shillington-Smythe to build his own little kingdom, with Kenwood House as the palace. Harold had allowed the General to hand pick the most vicious and heartless men he could find. Thus was born the Kenwood Household Guard, and soon it's reputation as the most vicious and driven military force in the entire theatre of war. In some ways the Guardsmen made the Bysithian madness look like a picnic in the park. Most of the civilian population had seen the writing on the wall and had fled into the night, most making it past the Loyalist lines and detailing the atrocities that the Guardsmen had committed on the local population. Murder, rape, pillaging and anything a sick mind could come up with.

Harold picked up the telephone and waited for the connection to be made, he was not known for his patience of recent and the switchboard operator answered quickly.

"Sire, how may I be of service?"

"Stop making me wait would be a start, connect me to Shillington-Smythe." He snapped.

"Yes Sire." The operator replied nervously.

Almost immediately, the phone started ringing on the other end of the connection. After three rings there was the familiar Blue Blood drawl of the General.

"Yes?"

"General," Harold said calmly. "You have good news for me I hope." It was definitely not a question, and the Generals stomach dropped at the sound of the King on the other end of the line.

"Sire, the subject has made some very impressive progress, I feel we are definitely ahead of schedule and you should have your prize as expected." He explained rapidly.

"I would have thought you would have made better progress, I wish this entire matter closed." Harold opined. "I tire of the constant foolishness of these generals around me, all telling me to withdraw, talking of foolish traps, they know nothing, I have more tactical genius in my little toe, than these so called military men have in their entire bodies."

"I understand your frustration, My King, but, this is an extraordinarily delicate process and it there is even the slightest error, well, you will not have to worry about half of the east of London."

"Excuses, that's all I hear all day long." Harold had an evil tone in his voice, "don't let me down, General." The line went dead and Shillington-Smythe let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. He needed to get the King to stay out of the process or thing's would go very badly for everyone involved. All he needed was another two weeks and he would be able to hand Harold the victory that he was so desperate to achieve. He looked at the reports on his desk and he could see that everything was proceeding as quickly as anyone could expect. After a few minutes, he looked at the ceiling and said a quick prayer that Harold would find something to take his attention and allow him to steer this project to it's obvious conclusion.

Jemimah walked into the castle that was now the headquarters for the Loyalist Forces in the south-east. She was answering yet another summons to a meeting with those that looked down upon the world from lofty heights. In some ways she knew that there was an obvious need for the Command to know where everything was, but she was also annoyed that they summoned her so damn often.

"This is becoming tedious and distracting." She said to Atsuoko.

"We must keeps the big hats happy, Boss." He replied calmly.

"I don't need this, I need to get the regiment ready, we have less than four days before we kick it off." She answered more tartly than she intended, but Atsuoko knew she was merely venting.

They entered the massive stone structure and were immediately met by a Lieutenant that greeted them sharply, the fact that he failed to salute got right under Jemimah's skin and she simply stood there, looking at the the back of the Lieutenant as he hurried toward the door. He got to the doorway and looked behind, and when he saw that the Colonel and her R.S.M. had not followed, he huffed visibly and walked back to Jemimah and stood in front of her rather sloppily.

"Is there a problem here?" He snapped, Jemimah's hand went straight to Atsuoko's arm to calm him.

"Lieutenant..." She indicated for him to offer his name, but he simply stood there looking at her. "Very well, let me put it this way, you are a Lieutenant, I am a Colonel, in this army and for that matter every other military organisation through out history has determined that you are at the bottom of the commissioned officer chain." She was speaking very calmly and with great intent. "Therefore the fact that you failed to offer a salute to me upon our meeting, then failed to properly identify yourself, makes me think you should not be wearing that rank and that a place as a private in an infantry division is more to your level." She continued more forcefully.

"Who might I ask is your commanding officer?" She asked. Her eyes boring deep into his.

"That would be Lieutenant Colonel McTavish." He answered petulantly.

"Well then, Lieutenant whoever you are, go and get him and bring him here, right-fucking-now!" She allowed her tone to get more threatening as she finished the sentence.

"I don't know where he is." The young man replied.

"Oh Dear, I think that we have reached a very big tipping point, don't you think Hideo?"

"Ma'am, I think we should just move on to the next commander in line."

"An outstanding idea, Sargent Major." She looked back at the Lt. "I think that I need to speak with General Turner, he is very understanding of insubordinate officers, as he throws them out the window." Jemimah walked past the young man and strode very purposefully toward the Sergeant at the reception desk, who immediately braced to show respect as she was sitting and one didn't salute while seated.

"Thank you Sergeant. My name is Colonel Jemimah Shillington-Smythe. Would you be so kind as to let General Turner know I am here and there is an issue that he needs to deal with in the Entry hall?"

"Certainly Ma'am. I will contact him this instant." The woman replied.

"Thank you Sergeant." Jemimah walked over to the Lieutenant, who was suddenly starting to realise the world of shit that was about to fall in on him.

"Ma'am, I.."

"Not one word, Lieutenant." She cut him off like a scalpel through hot butter. His mouth snapped shut with a loud click.

A few minutes later, General Turner strode through the doorway that she was supposed to be led through. He was looking extremely pissed and was boring straight at the group of three people standing in the middle of the entrance hall. He stopped and looked at who was there and his demeanour changed dramatically. If it was possible, he went passed pissed and straight to outrageously and uncontrollably angry. Jemimah and Atsuoko came to attention and she saluted stiffly.

"Let me guess, Lieutenant Grass has yet again failed to show respect for a superior officer?" He asked Jemimah heatedly. "Jem, if you and Hideo would wait for me over there, I will deal with this matter immediately." Jemimah saluted stiffly and walked to the other side of the entrance. The General wasn't shouting, that would be far too common, his tone was dark and very calm. "Where is Lt. Col. McTavish?" He looked at the young man with pure fire pouring from his eyes. "No don't tell me, he is in the officers club is he not?"

"Yes Sir." The man replied softly.

"You and he will report to my office in ten minutes, one minute late will be your funeral, clear?"

"Yes Sir." The young man saluted and was gone in a heartbeat.

Turner stood there watching the man disappear, and shook his head, it was clearly another in a long line of issues that Turner was now forced to deal with. He walked over to Jemimah, again she saluted, he returned it casually, a small smile on his lips.

"Thank you for not eating his heart in such a public forum, Jem."

"I have never seen such a poor example of a junior officer, General." She remarked in amazement.

"Yes, that is one way of putting it, he thinks because he is related to an admiral, he is somehow special. But this is the last straw and he and his commander are going to discover the consequences of poor discipline." He looked at the Sergeant behind the desk, there was a strange nod, and then he led her off to another part of the castle. They walked along some of the most impressively decorated halls she had ever seen and stopped outside a massive oak double door. Turner knocked hard and then opened the door, entering a massive office that was dominated by the largest hearth she had ever seen. The room was lined with medieval armour and standards, some of which had to be over a thousand years old. She followed Turner in with Atsuoko on her heals. All three walked up to a huge desk and came to a halt, Jemimah immediately recognised the slightly greying hair of the Chief of the Army, General Sir Geraint Rolfe. He was reading a report that was clearly not impressing him and his scowl showed it all too clearly.

"Ah Sidney, about bloody time you got here."

"Sorry Sir, I had to deal with our little friend again."

"Again? That little prick has really worn out his welcome."

"I agree Sir, I am going to deal with it while you have your briefing with Col. Shillington-Smythe." Turner answered.

"Goodo, you do that and I will have a chat with the Colonel." Turner saluted and was gone in an instant. "Have a seat Colonel. Did you have to bring that reprobate with you?" He said pointing at Atsuoko.

"Hey, you were the one that thought he could win with a pair of eights." Atsuoko answered snappily.

Geraint, stood and strode around the desk, a look of pure heated anger on his face, as he passed Jemimah he let out a massive laugh and he and Atsuoko embraced warmly.

"How was I supposed to know you had three tens."

"You just play shitty poker."

"Very true Hideo. I think we better bring the Colonel into the joke." He said as he noticed the shocked look on Jemimah's face.

"Sorry Boss, the General and I go way way back, I was his first platoon corporal back in the dark ages." Atsuoko explained.

"Hey I am not that ancient, well not nearly as ancient as you, any way." He threw back at the Sergeant Major. "Sorry Colonel, I should explain why I called you here, although it is great to see Hideo again, we have a rather important issue to discuss."

"Yes Sir?" She asked.

"You are clearly well advanced in your preparations for the mission to take Kenwood House, and as it is only four days away, it has been decided at the very highest levels that you should be read into the complete picture." He explained. Jemimah had a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach as she followed Geraint to the lounge area. After sitting down, Geraint nodded to Atsuoko, who immediately sourced three glasses of fine whisky. "Nothing about the mission needs to change, so don't worry about that, but there is a very important secondary target that we need to achieve."

"That would be the four squads of King's Platoon troops you snuck into my regiment?" Atsuoko asked.

"I never could keep anything from you." Geraint chuckled.

"Excuse me? King's Platoon troops, in my regiment. What the hell is going on?" She was looking at Atsuoko with a venom.

"Sorry Ma'am, but you know the rules, I couldn't say anything, but I was confident you would be read in before the Mission tees off." he explained.

"Quite right, Sergeant Major." Geraint said firmly. "His Majesty ordered the troops to be part of this mission for a very specific reason. There is a situation that very few people are aware of, and even fewer people are to be included in the operation." Geraint began. "During the early part of the war, an academic fell into the hands of General Shillington-Smythe. This academic has a very specific field of study, a field so narrow that there are maybe four others in the world that could understand, let alone contribute to." Geraint stood up and walked to the massive hearth and leaned against the ancient stone edifice. "The academic's name is Professor Albert Ironstone, his specialty is nuclear physics, this is a new field of science that deals with the make up of the universe and it's sundry components." There were blank faces looking back at him. "Don't feel bad, it took me a substantial period to get even a minor grasp on what that means. But, there is a severely dangerous side to these studies. The Professor has postulated that if two atoms, those particles that make up everything, are flung together at something called atavistic speeds, this will cause them to explode in an unequalled force. His theory as it stands, says that the explosive power released would be enough to destroy, down to the bedrock, an area approximately thirty kilometres square." The blood drained from the faces of Jemimah and Atsuoko, it was the most shocking thing that they had ever heard.

"Surely that is some sort of science fiction?" Jemimah asked incredulously.

"I wish it were, Colonel. We were able to extract two of his fellow scientists, and although they are not as familiar or capable in his area, they confirm the data." He explained seriously. "Which leads me into why the King's Platoon is involved, we need to extract Professor Ironstone, but, I will not put the entire operation at risk, so if the situation deteriorates, the Professor must be put out of reach." He looked at Jemimah, she knew the look. If they couldn't have the old man, no-one would.

"With all due respect, General, you should have read me in from the beginning." She chided Geraint. "I will be leading this operation, and to be told of the true goals of the attack just days before the start is, well, it is poor form, and I am more than a little angry about it."

"I understand Colonel, but you have to see it from Commands point of view." He replied calmly. "Your father is the driver behind this whole mess and we had to be convinced beyond any doubt that you were on-board."

"Sir, if I may?" Atsuoko spoke up.

"Of course, Hideo." Geraint answered.

"Sir, I would have thought that you of all people would know that I wouldn't support an officer I didn't believe in." He explained. "I have served under the Colonel for three years now, and I am yet to find an officer that is her equal in skill, dedication to the cause, and honour."

"I am sorry, Hideo. You are quite correct and I apologise for the delay." Geraint was chastened by the Sergeant Major's rebuke. "Under the circumstances I would normally delay the operation, but this is a highly time sensitive matter now. We have Intel that Harold is starting to push for a working model of the bomb." He explained. "Your father has guaranteed that the weapon will be ready on the original time frame, that is by Friday week." Both Atsuoko and Jemimah's mouth's almost hit the floor. "So, are you ready, other than the new information I gave you?"

"Yes Sir. I will have the polish thrown out and get the regiment to move out by sunrise tomorrow." That was three days early, but in reality, the troops would be simply triple and quadruple checking already double checked data and supplies.

"Then have at it, Colonel. Remember," he began. "Your father is not a priority any longer, just get Ironstone out." Jemimah and Atsuoko rose, saluted Geraint and left the office.

"God speed, Colonel." He whispered as the door closed, everything hung on this mission, and should it fail...