Oscar by Unknown Page A

for someone to explain what was happening, what was going on, why had he been taken?
    ‘You look frightened—are you?’ John questioned.
    Oscar remained stock still, and continued to tremble in front of him.
    ‘You have no need to be scared of me, boy.’ he reassured him. ‘I’m a pussycat.’
    He couldn’t help but snigger, trying not to laugh out loud. His trembling subsided.
    ‘Do you find that funny, boy?’
    He shook his head vigorously.
    ‘No.’ he said abruptly.
    ‘Well! I am a pussycat.’ even John found his statement funny, to the point of being ridiculous.
    Even Max saw the funny side—and he never laughed at anything.
    Oscar felt a sense of relief as John continued to make light of the situation. He was no longer scared of the man.
    When he was away from the pomposity of the Parliament buildings, he left his title of ‘sir’ at the office. He didn’t feel the need to share his knighthood with any of his cohorts. They had no need to know his business, other than the job at hand—the mission that was going down as John and Oscar were making each other’s acquaintance, with Max as an unwilling bystander.
    ‘You’ll be safe from now on, Oscar.’ he said softly, finally using his given name instead of ‘boy.’
    And for once, Oscar was reassured. He somehow knew that he would be safe under the man who hadn’t even told him his name.

CHAPTER NINE
    M iriam pointed directly towards the main armoury. They had gotten through all the barriers and made it to the gate successfully. As John had promised, they were not questioned; they had the code to deactivate the booby traps that laced the path between the checkpoint and their final destination, after the gate technician let them through. Dressed as maintenance technicians in their nondescript cover-alls and peaked caps, they faced no obstacles to prevent them from getting close to the main armoury—there wasn’t even the whiff of a guard.
    ‘Just a few hundred yards to go, boys!’ she chimed, as they headed quickly towards the place they were about to destroy.
    ‘Hang back, lads!’ She lifted her left hand in a fist as a signal to halt. She had spotted the figure of a weapon-wielding man close to the entrance.
    ‘What are we going to do?’ one of the Mind operatives asked apprehensively.
    She placed her index finger upon her lips to give the impression that she was deep in thought. In reality, she did not know what to do.
    ‘I think we might have to abort the mission. There’s nothing we can do.’ she replied.
    This decision did not sit well with the rest of the Mind operatives. They had geared up to take down the armoury, and that was what they intended to do. They surged forward.
    ‘Hey! I didn’t give any orders to move out.’ she seethed through gritted teeth.
    Still, they kept going—their actions were dangerous. She chose not to follow. She stepped away and out of sight to watch as events unfolded right before her eyes. The gun-wielding man became four, and then the four became twelve; they had been alerted of unauthorised personnel heading towards the main armoury by the gate technician, who had been John’s liaison and part of the plan from the beginning.
Why had he decided to turn against the Mind, and against John? Only he himself knew.
    #
    All Miriam could hear were angry voices telling her operatives to halt, or be killed. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest and a sudden surge of adrenalin hit her all at once. Without thinking, she ran towards the armoury guards, firing at them with her hand gun—missing with every shot until she was left with nothing but empty shells. The guards didn’t fire back; they wanted some fun with their captives before calling on the patrolmen to take them to the labour camps.
    She dropped the emptied hand gun and walked over to the guards, with no intention of resisting their advances. Each of the other operatives followed her lead and dropped their weapons.
    ‘All of you, lay