England 2010
Brandon crawled through the bracken towards the forward edge of the hill. Below him, the slope fell away to the forest he had watched earlier in the day. The snow was falling fast now, but though it was dark, he could just make out the locked gate where the security guard had turned them away with his shotgun. A few seconds later a tiny glow gave away the position of one of the armed men as he enjoyed a cigarette in the dark.
‘Fucking amateur,’ thought Brandon to himself,
He took off his rucksack and unzipped the pouch on the top flap, removing a soft bag. From within he took a small electronic telescope, and flicked a switch on the side. An almost imperceptible whine indicated the batteries were powering up the starlight technology within and he waited a few seconds before lifting it to his eye. Immediately the dark landscape before him opened up into an eerie green vista, revealing everything in surprisingly clear detail. The space age technology took the ambient light available from the surrounding area and used it to illuminate the ground before him, albeit, only within the body of the scope.
He scanned the edge of the forest, pausing on the gate where the two guards were now crystal clear, before continuing along the fence line. When he was happy there were no more guards along the front edge, he flicked the switch on the side of the scope to a different setting. The image immediately turned grey, and, though the landscape was a lot less clear, this was for a completely different purpose. Within a few seconds, the infra red setting picked out a heat source further back in the woods, the blurred white images revealing two previously unseen guards, obviously patrolling just inside the forest edge.
‘Hello, boys,’ said Brandon to himself quietly, ‘Just what is it you are hiding in there that warrants so much muscle?’
He watched for another half an hour, working out the best approach to avoid the guards, planning his route until finally, he put his rucksack back on and made his way to a stream bed he had seen earlier. He crouched into the dead ground and followed it down to the fence line, and within minutes, was making his way carefully into the depths of the forest, stopping every few minutes to check the way was clear with his night scope.
Eventually the ground started to rise and the presence of more guards along the path meant he was forced to go further into the undergrowth to give them a wide berth. Finally he topped the rise and found himself looking down into a tiny valley located deep at the heart of the forest, edged on three sides by trees and on the fourth by a steep cliff. At the base of the crag, an old looking complex of stone buildings was enclosed by a perimeter wall and Brandon could see another two guards guarding the only visible entrance gates.
‘Bingo,’ he said and switched the scope to starlight mode. He spent an age scanning the building complex, seeking a way in but soon realised that, even without the regular patrols by the guards, the high walls on three sides and the towering cliff on the fourth, meant that the convent was as secure as any prison.
‘Only one thing for it,’ thought Brandon and retreated into the undergrowth, following the edge of the wood up towards the cliff edge. He used the scope to select a possible route and withdrew a coiled rope from his rucksack. The kern-mantle rope was of a typical climbing construction, though, at only 6mm thick, was thinner than anything on the open market. Its lighter weight meant a man could carry longer lengths and was a recent innovation in the field of insurgency and counter terrorism.
He secured one end around a tree and connected a purpose made, carbon Karabiner to a clip on his belt. Finally he placed his pistol in the chest pocket of his Buffalo jacket and, without wasting anymore time, started to carefully abseil slowly down the cliff face into the cemetery at the back of the convent.
Inside the main building, Bernice was unusually quiet at the evening meal. In fact the atmosphere in the whole room was sombre. Since the Mother Superior’s death, Sister Agnes had taken on the role of washing the feet of the undeserving prior to the meal, and until they had decided the Mother Superior’s successor, had become the temporary head of the convent. Despite everyone’s best efforts to protect them from the terrible truth, all those present had now heard of the way the Mother Superior had died and fear was evident on many faces. Before the meal started, Sister Agnes stood to address the hall.
‘Fellow Sisters,’ she said quietly, ‘These past few days have been very challenging and I thank you all for your patience and understanding. I know many of you are tired, confused, and even frightened. What happened to the Mother Superior was dreadful and shook us all to our very souls.’
All present made the sign of the cross and kissed their rosaries at the mention of the Mother Superior.
‘Some may even question their safety here,’ she continued, ‘And wonder why we haven’t involved the authorities or ask why it is we are so…’ she paused, searching for an alternative to secretive, ‘Private in our day to day life. Well, let me tell you this. It is precisely because of situations like this we have not called the police. Our order, Sanctimonialis Rosa has long been persecuted by those who believe different to us. Our ways are strange to the world and often, when we become visible to society in general, the unenlightened have tried to change us, either by way of indoctrination or force. Over the centuries many such people have tried to impose their ways upon us and sometimes, it has to be said, some of our order have lain down their lives to protect that which we hold sacred.’
A murmur of unease rippled around the room.
‘But do not be concerned,’ she continued, ‘For over a hundred years there has been no incident and I am sure this latest affront to our order will soon pass and we can get back to our prayers and charitable work as soon as possible. The unholy actions of one, despicable individual, will not be allowed to threaten the sanctity and divine purpose of this order.’
‘We may be small compared to others,’ she continued, ‘Some may even say, reclusive, but I assure you this. We have many supporters across the world and answer to an authority greater than the police or government of this country. Even as I speak, measures have been taken to protect this convent and the safety of everyone therein. We will have to postpone our charity work for a few days while they search for this madman, but, rest assured, he will be caught, and when he is, we will seek retribution for his terrible sins. Until that time, all I can ask is that we all work hard and pray for the soul of our dear departed Sister.’
The speech ended and everyone looked up at her in relief. It was the first time anyone had taken the time to explain the situation and the lifting of tension in the room was almost palpable. Conversation returned to normal as the meal was served and everyone seemed much happier. Everyone, that is, except one.
Bernice stirred her soup aimlessly. The speech was welcome but left her with more questions than answers. Why would they be persecuted just for worshipping the Holy Mother, Who was this authority they reported to? And most of all, what did she mean when she said; seek retribution for his terrible sin. That almost sounded like a threat of violence. Surely, if he was caught, they should hand him over to the police. The only other action they should be taking is praying for his soul and begging forgiveness for his misguided ways. That was what the Mother Superior would have wanted. Wouldn’t she?’
Suddenly, what little conversation there was came to a stuttering stop when there came a knock on the main hall doors. Everyone looked over in surprise. No-one ever interrupted the evening meal and all heads turned to look at the Senior Sisters at the head table for guidance. Sister Agnes stood up.
‘Sister Bernice,’ she said gently, ‘Would you be so kind to attend the doorway please?’ Bernice placed her spoon on the table and withdrew her chair. She walked over to the door and eased it open. Outside, Jacob, the Caretaker’s son stood waiting, wring his cap in his hands.
‘Yes, Jacob?’ said Bernice.
‘Sister, please excuse me,’ he said, ‘I have news that must reach the ears of the Senior Sisters immediately.’
‘Jacob, we are at our evening meal,’ said Bernice, ‘And as you are aware, we should not be disturbed. Can’t it wait?’
‘Sorry, Sister,’ he said ‘But this is very important.’
‘Wait here,’ she said, ‘I will see what I can do.’ She closed the door and approached the table, passing on the message. A few minutes later Bernice led the caretaker/s son between the tables towards the senior sisters. With every step he felt the eyes of all the Nuns burning in to him suspiciously. Bernice strained to hear the whispered conversation but was too far away to hear any detail. Finally, the nervous young man left the hall and all the Nuns turned to face the top table in anticipation. Agnes stood up once more.
‘Sisters,’ she said, ‘I have to bring this meal to an end. Sister Bernice, will escort you back to the wings.’
One of the younger Nuns spoke up nervously.
‘Sister Agnes, ‘she said, ‘If I may be so bold to ask, is there anything to be concerned about?’
Agnes’s face did not reveal the annoyance she felt about being questioned in public about a private conversation. Still, the girl was young and had a lot to learn, and besides, this news could save a lot of distress and awkward questions in the long run.
‘On the contrary, Sister Wendy,’ she answered, ‘Quite the opposite. The guards have apprehended the murderer and have him in custody. Now, If you don’t mind, we have things to do. Please return to your cells and I will have bread brought to you at the last bell.’
The gathering stood and filed out of the dining hall. Bernice approached the top table to collect the cell keys from Sister Agnes
‘Bernice,’ said Agnes, ‘I want you to secure our Sisters in their cells until this is sorted out.’
‘Is there anything else I can do?’ asked Bernice.
‘No, thank you, just bring them back to the hall after morning prayers.’
‘What about the keys?’ asked Bernice.
‘Keep hold of them until tomorrow,’ said Agnes, ‘You will need them to unlock the doors for morning prayers. These are trying times, but hopefully it is coming to an end. Once it is over, we have to get back to normal as soon as possible. There will be a vote for the position of Mother Superior and whoever gets the position, it will leave a vacancy for a Senior Sister. Quite apart from your spirituality and dedication, your support during this difficult period has not gone unnoticed. If there was any doubt before, there is none now. You will take that role, Bernice. The decision has been made. You will be the next Senior Sister and will be inducted into the higher order as soon as possible. You keep the keys, Bernice, I trust you. After all, you will be one of us soon enough.’
‘Thank you, Sister,’ said Bernice, and turned to follow the other Nuns leaving the hall.
‘One of us,’ she thought as she walked, ‘I wonder what one of us means, exactly?’
Bernice spent the next half an hour locking the Sisters in their cells before returning to her own room to pray. She cleaned her room, and washed head to foot from the water bowl on the simple sideboard. Finally she read passages from her bible, seeking succour from its comforting pages, but found her mind wandering, her eyes often drawn to the convent keys hanging on the back of her cell door. Finally she gave up, and replaced the bible on the bedside table. She took a big sigh and rose to get the keys off the door. She knew what she had to do but now she had the opportunity, her nerve was failing. She gathered her courage and started to take the keys off the giant ring, seeking the only one she would need if she was going to see this thing through. At last she left the cell and walked down the dark and silent corridor, her one hand playing with the hall key she had placed in her pocket.