Storiesonline.net ------- My Race Is Royal by Scotland-the-Brave Copyright© 2011 by Scotland-the-Brave ------- Description: Young Donnie McGregor is about to learn the meaning of his clan's motto. He is called to serve the gods of the Scots, as together they battle terrorism and the slow destruction of the Earth. A slow build up to this one, but plenty of action as it builds. Codes: MF mf mF Ff rom non-con fant ScFi TimeTr PostApoc ------- ------- Chapter 1 January, Kilmahog (near Callander), Stirlingshire, Scotland Despite being only fourteen, young Donald McGregor (Donnie to family and friends) had already been putting in long shifts on his father's farm for the past four years. The boy loved everything about farming – he loved managing the soil so that it was productive and he loved the animals. He especially loved being close to nature in all her glory and found something to marvel at every single day. Every school holiday and weekend was a test of his strength and endurance and at harvest time he was used to working late into the evenings – but he loved it all. The hard work showed in the breadth of his shoulders and the solid muscle on his already five foot eleven frame. His blue-grey eyes hinted at a quick-wit, intelligence and the warmth of his personality. At that moment they were screwed up against the biting January wind that threatened even more snow. "Take the bike and check the herd on the lower slope," ordered his father, Douglas McGregor. "I'll walk up the hill and check there." The 'lower slope' was a familiar term they used to describe the pasture on the lower reaches of Bochastle hill. 'Up the hill' meant up Craig Bheithe, the hill that rose behind the farmhouse and which gave the farm its name. Creag Bheithe Farm was just to the West of Callander. The majority of the land was hilly and only suitable for sheep farming, but the McGregors did also grow thirty or so acres of wheat, barley and oats. Donnie sighed and not for the first time wished that his brother, Keiran, wasn't away on a school trip so that he could share in the farm duties. January was showing her teeth on the hills, with a good 12-18 inches of snow already on the ground. The snow and ice were also being whipped around by the strong wind. More snow was forecast for the late afternoon and the sky was already a dramatic, angry, pewter grey. It was this fresh snow and the threat of more that was forcing father and son to check that the livestock were safe and sheltered. "Be careful," Donnie advised his father as he pulled the woollen hat tighter onto his head, totally concealing the sandy brown hair. He wrapped his scarf round the lower half of his face and pulled goggles into place to protect his eyes. Crossing to a quad bike ATV, he whistled for his trusty companion. "Rory!" he shouted, to back-up the whistle. A series of excited barks preceded the appearance of a black and white Border Collie from inside one of the barns. Mounting the bike, Donnie waved once to his father and twisted the throttle smoothly, all the while keeping an eye on where the dog was. Used to working with the vehicle, Rory loped alongside it happily, seemingly impervious to the biting cold wind. Donnie had the further distance to travel. He had to navigate through the farmyard and then along a long approach road before finally meeting the A84 public highway. Turning left onto this road, he made his way through the little village of Kilmahog before taking the bridge over the River Teith that gave him access to the Bochastle Hill portion of the farm. Even the public roads were deep in snow and it was only the fact that the ATV was four-wheel drive that stopped the journey of three miles or so being treacherous. Once over the bridge, he had to stop momentarily to open the gate back on to McGregor land proper. He drove through and then ensured the gate was secure behind him before carefully driving forward up the slope of Bochastle Hill. This part of the farm was roughly twenty acres in size with the land near the foot of the hill split into parcels of approximately an acre square. The pasture on the 'lower slope' was deliberately interspersed with sections of pine forest to provide shelter for days just like this one. Each parcel was fenced off with barbed wire fencing and entry controlled through a series of gates. Higher up the hill there was no fencing as such and in summer the livestock were allowed to graze freely. In winter, they were moved to the lower fields where the tree plantations gave them shelter. Donnie made for the field where he knew the sheep has been pastured. It was only a half a mile from the first gate, but called for him to skirt two sections of wood before he would be able to see the livestock. Driving past the second stand of pine, he knew something was wrong immediately. The field was two-thirds covered in deep snow with the other third still showing grass where it had been sheltered by one of the stands of pine. Donnie had expected to see the herd of sheep sheltering up against this wood, taking advantage of the available pasture, but all he could see was the gate at the far end of the field blowing open in the wind. Donnie scanned the ground for clues as to where the sheep might have gone but the fresh snow had drifted with the wind and that ensured that there were no tracks to follow. The open gate was the most obvious explanation and he knew he would need to track the sheep down to ensure they were safe. "Rory, FIND!" he called to the Collie and then twisted the throttle on the bike to follow the dog which was already running fast for the open gate. Donnie had to dismount to secure the swinging gate before he could follow, and by that time Rory was already out of sight. However, once out of the shelter of the trees the snow was thick and the fresh paw marks were easy enough to see. Donnie followed their lead, the ATV engine complaining as the bike struggled to forge through deeper snow. It was fully half an hour later before Donnie heard the sound of the sheepdog barking. It was faint at first, the wind all but drowning it out, but he estimated it was coming from much higher up the hill. Glancing at the depth of the snow and the gradient of the hill, Donnie decided he would need to proceed on foot for safety's sake. Despite how fit and strong he was, Donnie found the going difficult and he cursed whoever had left the gate open thereby allowing the sheep to escape. "What idiot goes out walking in fields that are a foot deep in snow?" he thought to himself as he forced one foot in front of the other. "Even worse, what idiot leaves gates lying open on a working farm?" Gradually Rory's barking grew louder, but still Donnie couldn't see the Collie. By now he had managed to climb as high as the Clachan an Diridh – a medieval stone circle – and he knew he was only a few hundred feet from the summit of Bochastle Hill. "Rory! Rory! That'll do!" he cried. 'That'll do' was the handler's signal for the dog to return. Donnie grimaced behind his scarf when he saw the dog emerge from where he knew there was a deep ravine. "Shit! If the sheep have wandered over there then we might have lost some," he thought, trying to force his legs to hurry. Rory seemed to realise the gravity of the situation and for once he wasn't prancing around. The Collie had dropped into working mode and he was watching Donnie anxiously, waiting for his next command. The strip of snow that had taken Rory barely a minute to run across took Donnie fully fifteen minutes to cover before he found himself on what he guessed was the lip of the ravine. The snow here seemed even deeper than elsewhere and Donnie thought he knew why. In an effort to keep livestock away from this ravine, he and his father had worked for hours one summer moving large schist rocks into place to act as a wall. Now it seemed as if the snow had drifted against this rock wall and there was clear evidence that the sheep had managed to get over the rocks owing to the build up of snow. Donnie worried as to their fate. The snow made it difficult to know precisely where the lip of the ravine began, so Donnie lay down on his front and slowly edged forward. Rory was whining in agitation behind him, but he trusted the dog not to do anything stupid. Once he was able to look downwards, Donnie sighed with relief when he saw the flock gathered below. It was obvious that the sheep had been lucky. The deep snow appeared to have been a mixed blessing. While it had undoubtedly led to the sheep falling in the first place, it must have also cushioned their fall. Although they had tumbled over fifteen feet, all but one was on its feet and looking none the worse for wear. One was lying on its side, unmoving, and Donnie thought it was either dead or badly injured. "I need to get down there. If it's only injured I need to get to it fast," he thought. The fact the animal was perhaps in pain seemed to lend Donnie added strength and he retraced his steps, stepping into his own footprints as much as possible to make the going easier. He made it back to where he had left the quad bike and now willing to take a risk, he pointed the ATV up the hill. Knowing he had to approach the ravine on the level that the sheep were on, he veered to his right, now going across the hill. The bike was immediately at a precarious angle and he leaned sideways and up the slope, trying to stabilise the vehicle. A quick glance to his right showed him how far up the hill he had come and he forced the possibility of rolling the ATV out of his mind. As he neared where the herd of sheep were, Donnie called Rory into action once again. "Away to me, Rory! Away to me!" The Collie had been trotting along, as if waiting for his chance to shine. The 'away to me' command had him racing off, heading slightly down the hill so that he could approach the cheviot sheep from the right hand side as the command intended. Donnie hoped that sending Rory round behind the sheep would stop them bolting at the approach of the noisy bike. His plan was to get the herd back down off the hill as quickly as possible so that he could return to deal with the one that was either dead or injured. That calculation had been processed in his head as he drove the bike. Yes, one sheep might be badly injured and in need of attention, but if he risked the entire herd by taking the time to look at it first, he could end up losing them all to the cold and snow. An experienced dog, Rory made slight adjustments to his approach to the livestock and edged them tightly together. When Donnie pulled up, he stood tall on the ATV and began to count the number of sheep that were now hemmed into the ravine. Coming up with a figure of 26, including the one that was down, he sighed with relief that none were missing. Now, with Rory to help, it would be a relatively easy, if somewhat slow, job to herd them back down to their original pasture. "Walk up, walk up!" he called to the Collie. And Rory immediately started the herd moving forward. He darted left and right to keep the sheep bunched tightly together without any further commands from Donnie. Once they had passed, Donnie made his way quickly over to the fallen sheep to check quickly whether it was alive or dead. As he knelt over the animal, it lifted his head and let out a piteous bleat. "At least its alive, its got a chance," he thought. Rushing back to the bike, Donnie gave the flock and Rory a wide berth as he tried to get ahead of them once more. It was slow going, but Rory showed just how good he was, as he kept them moving through the thick snow without letting any break away. A long two hours later, Donnie was able to give the final command. "In there, Rory. In there!" The Collie expertly herded the 25 sheep through the gate back into the pasture on the lower slopes and the sheep immediately made for the sheltered spot over by the pine trees. Donnie let the Collie back through the gate then secured it and set off without pause to return to the injured sheep. Halfway back to the ravine, without warning, the engine on the bike began to cough and splutter before finally cutting out altogether. Donnie jumped down and raised the engine cover for a quick look. There was nothing obviously wrong that he could see, nothing looked out of place and he decided he would need to proceed on foot. A quick glance at his watch showed him that it was already after 14:00 and he began to worry about whether he would have enough time to rescue the sheep before the light faded. Donnie grabbed an old blanket that was stowed behind the driver's seat, thinking it might be useful in keeping the sheep warm. Once he had it, he started following the still visible tracks the bike had made going to and from the ravine. Having now realised the time, Donnie's stomach began to complain that it hadn't been fed for close to five hours. He had a roast beef sandwich wrapped in a bag in one of his coat pockets and he wolfed down half of that as he trudged onwards and upwards. He estimated he had covered about half of the remaining distance to the ravine when it began to snow heavily. With the strong wind driving the snow towards him, Donnie had to pull his goggles back on to stop himself being blinded. Navigating was becoming impossible and he realised he would need to rely on Rory to lead him to the sheep. "Find, Rory. Find!" he ordered and then had to quickly add "Steady!" to slow the Collie down as it started to race ahead. The going was becoming much harder now as the fresh snow quickly began to fill in the bike tracks that he had been walking in and the white-out conditions also made it difficult to see where he was putting his feet. Donnie was still able to make out Rory's black fur however, so he continued on, each step taking more of his reserves of strength. Time meant little now, as numbed by the cold and fatigue, Donnie simply put one foot in front of the other following the black blur of the redoubtable Collie. ------- Chapter 2 Rory's bark snapped Donnie out of his daze and he realised they had reached the ravine. There was some shelter from the rock walls here and for the first time in nearly two hours, he was able to see more than a few feet in front of himself. The sheep was lying as he had left it and he shuffled forward before kneeling by its side. The animal didn't have the strength left to raise its head this time, but Donnie could see its eyes were open and there was still life in them. Unrolling the blanket, he laid it beside the sheep and then, grabbing its legs, flipped the beast over onto it. He was then able to fold the sides over to completely cover the cheviot and create a 'travios' that he would be able to pull. Almost at the point of exhaustion, Donnie knew he would need to rest for a few minutes before setting out to return back down the hill. The light was fading fast now, made worse by the heavy snow closing in and a glance at his watch told him it was now almost 16:00. As he rested, Donnie looked at the blanket and concluded that he faced a difficult task to get the sheep and himself to safety. An idea popped into his head and he called Rory over beside him. Slipping the dog's collar from around its neck, he used his pocket knife to make an incision in both flaps of the blanket. Slipping one end of the dog collar through the slits, he fed it through the buckle and tightened it to give himself something to pull on. This achieved two things: it helped keep the blanket together around the sheep; and it saved him stooping as low as he otherwise might have to. "No point in putting it off any longer," he thought to himself. "Come on boy, it's time to go home." When Donnie hadn't returned by mid-afternoon, Douglas McGregor began to worry. It shouldn't have taken the boy that long to check on the flock in the lower field and it was now only an hour or so away from darkness. Worried that something had happened, he climbed back into his tractor and set off in the direction of Bochastle Hill. The bigger vehicle dealt with the conditions easily and he drove through the village and over the bridge without any difficulty. As he reached the first gate, the snow began to fall heavily and he hurried to drive through and then secure it behind himself. Only a few minutes later he reached the pasture. With visibility very poor, he had to drive two-thirds of the way across the field before the shelter of the pine trees enabled him to see that the sheep were where they should be. A quick count told him that there was one missing and Douglas guessed that this explained why Donnie hadn't yet returned. "I haven't passed him on the road, so the only place he can be is higher up the hill," he thought to himself grimly. Douglas knew that the upper reaches of Bochastle Hill, in a blizzard and with darkness falling was no place to be and he was really worried now. His worry didn't stop him from observing proper practice though, and as he passed through the next gate, he secured it behind himself before heading up the hill. Even with his goggles on, he could barely see a few feet ahead now and almost drove into the back of the abandoned ATV some thirty minutes later. Getting down to check on the now snow-covered bike, Douglas hit the starter button and found that the engine was dead. Douglas was a practical man and looking around himself, he knew that it would be folly to go any further in the current conditions. He had to hope that Donnie had found shelter somewhere and that he was safe. "He's a smart boy, I'm sure I'm worrying over nothing," he thought. "It's going to be touch and go whether I can find my own way back down off of this godforsaken hill!" Now in darkness and with the blizzard of heavy snow still battering him, Donnie was finding the going very tough indeed. He had been out in the freezing conditions for over seven hours now and unbeknown to him the symptoms of hypothermia had already set in. As his blood centred itself on his vital organs and core temperature it deprived his hands, feet and brain. His thinking was growing duller, his steps slower and he had already fallen several times. Unable to see even Rory as a guide in the dark, and suffering disorientation anyway, he was now wandering on the hillside aimlessly. Still doggedly pulling the injured sheep, he was now actually trudging slowly uphill rather than in the direction of home. Rory had tried several times to attract his attention, barking and tugging on his sleeve, but Donnie was oblivious. Stumbling once more, Donnie was at last unable to get to his feet and he could only manage to shuffle forward on his hands and knees for a few more yards. Fatigue bowed his head so that he couldn't to see the standing stones of Clachan an Diridh were directly in front of him. The cold, exhaustion and effects of hypothermia had finally beaten him and he lay motionless, as the snow continued to cover him. Rory became frantic. He pawed at his young master and whined in an effort to rouse him. When his attempts failed, the Collie took firm hold of Donnie's arm and tried to drag him forward. Inside the stone circle there was some limited shelter behind the huge pillars of stone that faced directly into the wind. Inch by inch, Rory somehow managed to pull Donnie into one such spot. It took the dog almost an hour to achieve what was a miraculous feat, but he wasn't finished at that. Returning to the sheep, Rory grabbed the end of his own collar between his teeth and began to pull the cheviot into the circle too. Climbing over Donnie's prone figure, the Collie continued to pull the sheep and the blanket until they were snugly up against Donnie's side. Having managed that, the dog then lay on the other side of his master, trying to keep him warm. No sooner had the brave Border Collie positioned himself and the sheep to try to heat Donnie's frozen body, he raised his head and began to growl, the hackles on his neck bristling. A golden haze of light descended on the stone circle and all of the snow around Donnie was suddenly gone. In the midst of the dazzling halo was the shape of an old woman. This was Beira, mother of all of the ancient Scottish gods and goddesses. Already the heat radiating from the deity's aura was returning some strength to young Donnie and his eyelids flickered twice before opening. He stared in confusion for several minutes before trying to speak. "Hush my brave one. Rest a little longer and let your body repair itself," she said to him. Donnie gazed upon her with amazement, convinced that he was either asleep or dead. The goddess appeared to be very old, almost like a crone, but there was something markedly different about her than any old woman Donnie had ever seen. Apart from the golden light that surrounded her, the woman appeared to have two faces – one on the front of her head and another on the rear. He saw that she was smiling at him now, almost as if she was able to read his thoughts and was amused at his confusion. "Yes, I must look strange to you, my young earth warrior. I am Cailleach – goddess of winter." The goddess' head turned to show the second face was composed as if in sleep. Donnie heard Cailleach explain. "This is Brighde goddess of summer. Together we are Beira, the mother of all gods and goddesses." The goddess' head turned again so that Donnie was once again looking at the face that was awake. Beside him he heard Rory whine for the first time, but was still too weak to be able to turn to see his canine friend. The goddess spoke again. "You have shown that you have the spirit of Tailtui within you. Your love of the earth and all of my creatures is strong, even to the extent of bravely, if somewhat foolishly, being willing to give up your own life to try to save that one sheep." Donnie managed to croak out a response. "It has been hurt, what else was I to do?" he asked. "Quite remarkable courage! Matched only by the stout Ruaraidh who lies by your side trying to keep you alive. But forgive me, I talk too much and act too little," she said, reaching forward with a boney hand. Her touch was like nothing Donnie had ever experienced in his fourteen years. It was soothing, healing and quickly warmed his body even further. It was as if he was sipping the most amazing bowl of steaming hot broth, or sneaking a sip of his father's whisky – he could almost taste the touch and feel the heat spreading out from his stomach. Rory whined again and this time the goddess bent over and seemed to whisper in the dog's ear. Donnie felt the Collie get to its feet and step over him and then saw him take a last look over his shoulder before racing off out of the stone circle. The goddess straightened and smiled at him. "It is only right that such love and devotion is rewarded. Let Ruaraidh finish the job he has started. He will fetch your father and complete his task of saving your life. Later, you can return the service. While we wait for his return, I have a little task for you to perform for me if you would. Are you willing Dòmhnall mac Dubhglas? Will you serve the goddess?" Donnie looked into her eyes and felt himself being measured. He somehow knew that this goddess knew all there was to know about him. "This is the strangest dream I've ever had," he thought to himself. "Oh this is no dream. I have watched you for some time and this final act of devotion and selflessness has finally decided for me that you are worthy of some of my time," she answered his thought. "What else could you be other than a dream?" Donnie asked aloud. "How else could you be reading my thoughts?" "I am THE goddess. The mother of all other gods and goddesses. There is little that I cannot do if I turn my attention to it. Let me show you something that might convince you of my interest in Dòmhnall mac Dubhglas." Beira held her hands out in front of her and an orb of silvery-white light appeared between them. As Donnie eyes were drawn to this different light source, he saw that there was something inside the orb. It was almost like watching a movie, only he realised that he was the star. "Eat while you watch," said the goddess. Once again Donnie felt her touch and had the sensation that he was somehow eating the most nourishing food he had ever tasted. While he tried to savor the sensation, the 'movie' inside the orb drew his attention again. He recognised himself and the location he appeared to be in. This was near the summit of Craig Bheithe and he remembered this day with startling clarity for a particular reason. The day was from the summer of his twelfth birthday and he remembered it so well because he had almost been killed. While walking on the hill, a huge rock had slipped from above and come crashing down towards him. Just when he thought he was surely going to die, the rock had hit a ridge and it had changed direction, missing him by only a yard. Now as he watched the 'movie', Donnie saw something that he hadn't seen the previous summer. As the huge rock plummeted towards him, the figure of Beira appeared and seemed to tap it with a mighty hammer that she held in her right hand. It seemed as if the goddess had intervened to save him! The movie morphed into a second sequence and Donnie again recognised himself. The setting was the glen bordering the national forest and he was simply walking along. As he watched, he saw something hidden in the grass and heather glint in the sunlight. Donnie gasped as he saw that it was a powerful steel animal trap. He watched his 'movie' self gaze up at the sunny sky, oblivious to the fact that he was about to step on the trap. At the last second Beira appeared and tugged the trap out of his path and he walked on, oblivious to the disaster he had just avoided. Before Donnie could ask about this, another sequence began. He recognised the farmhouse and could even pick out his own bedroom window. There was a violent storm raging, with thunder crashing and lightning flashing. Suddenly a loud crash sounded and he saw a huge limb from the old oak tree in the farmyard split from the trunk. There could be no doubt that the heavy limb was heading directly for the roof of the farmhouse right above where Donnie's bedroom lay. Fascinated by the 'movie', Donnie watched as once again Beira appeared to intervene. She held up her hand towards the falling limb and it seemed to bounce off, falling harmlessly to the ground in the farmyard. Donnie remembered finding the huge branch in the farmyard. He could even remember using a chainsaw to cut it up for firewood, but he had never imagined how close it had been to crushing him in his bed. The orb faded now and he looked again on the face of the goddess. "You appear to have saved me three times before tonight, this makes it four," he said. "Ha! Three only, we can't deny Ruaraidh the credit for all his hard work!" As she spoke, Beira seemed to re-ignite the orb between her hands and Donnie was able to watch Rory strain every sinew to drag him and the sheep to shelter within the stone circle. He could see how much this was taking out of the Collie, but Rory just refused to give up. "How long? How long did that take him?" Donnie asked, tears gathering in his eyes at having witnessed his dog's devotion. "An hour for you and a further half hour for the sheep. He truly is a remarkable creature," Beira answered. "Okay, so Rory saved me this time, but why have you saved me three times already?" Donnie asked, his voice growing firmer as his body recovered. Once again he felt himself subjected to the penetrating stare. "You have something within you, something I find intriguing and worth exploring. This world faces difficult times. There are challenges to come that will test even me! There will be a time and place when those of your race will be required. Before then I need to discover if you are indeed the one and if you are, prepare you for what lies ahead," said Beira softly. "What do you mean? What is coming, what will be required of me?" Donnie asked, the tension of the moment cracking his voice. Beira shook her head, a sad look on her 'winter' face. "That is for another time. For now, you need to decide whether you are willing to serve me," said the goddess. Donnie only took a moment to consider. If this was a dream, he wanted it to continue to its end. If it wasn't, then the goddess had already saved his life three times. How could he refuse her? "I will serve you with all that I have in me," he told her. ------- Chapter 3 Donnie had no sooner said the words: "I will serve you with all that I have in me." than he felt a sharp pain on his left shoulder. He had no time to dwell on that however, because he suddenly experienced a rush of vertigo and when he blinked and opened his eyes he found himself hanging precariously from a sheer cliff-face. Glancing down, Donnie gulped as he saw that he was some hundreds if not thousands of feet up the side of a mountain. This was like something out of his worst nightmare. He had learned the meaning of the word 'acrophobia' from a very early age, when he had climbed from his bedroom window onto the farmhouse roof and then looked down. The sudden dizziness and irrational terror had forced him to realise that he was afraid of heights. Now, his entire body seemed to seize up and fear robbed him of the ability to think straight. His eyes just happened to be focused on his right hand where it was clinging to the cliff face and he noted absently that the knuckles were white. The muscles in his right leg began to cramp. Through his terror, he heard a voice inside his head. "Face your fear, Dòmhnall. Climb. Climb for your goddess, someone needs your help." The voice was enough to at least blow away some of the fog in his brain and that allowed him to think more clearly. He took another glance down and felt his stomach turn and then his entire body began shaking. "Don't look down!" he chided himself. "Whatever you do, don't look down!" "Face your fear, Dòmhnall. Climb. Climb for your goddess." he heard once more. Beira's voice helped steady him a little more and he was able to consider her words. He began to take deep breaths, letting each one out slowly, as he used sheer will-power to try to calm himself. "She said that someone needs my help. I can do this; I know I can do this. She knows I'm afraid of heights and she's testing me," he told himself. Donnie forced himself to examine the rock around him. "One foot at a time, that's all it takes, just pick out one hold after another." Unconsciously he searched within himself to draw on some inner strength that he had never had to draw on before, that he had never even suspected existed. Finding a deep well of 'something', he was able to tap into it and immediately felt a little better. Gradually he got his shaking under control and the terror receded somewhat. Beads of sweat now glistened on his forehead as he willed himself to take a first step. Lifting his right foot, he felt around for some purchase and was able to wedge the toe of his boot into a crack in the rock. Looking up, he saw a hand-hold and putting his weight on his new foot position, he reached up to grab it. "One foot at a time, that's all it takes, just one foot at a time," he kept repeating. Painfully slowly he picked out and tested a series of holds and continued to climb upwards. With each foot gained, his belief in the strength of the inner 'something' increased, as did his confidence. He still refrained from looking down again though, not wanting to run the risk of losing control once more. Twenty minutes later, Donnie had climbed around one hundred and twenty feet higher when he noticed what looked like a ledge only ten feet above him. "Maybe I'll be able to rest there for a few minutes. I just have to keep my concentration for another ten feet and then I can take a breather – no mistakes now," he warned himself. As he got closer, Donnie saw that there was a large bird nest at one end of the ledge. He put it out of his mind and focused on each hold until at last he was able to pull himself up and onto the ledge. Lying on his back, he took a few minutes to just let his muscles relax. He was of course looking upwards and he thought could see the summit of the mountain only about fifty feet or so above. "Here's hoping there's an easier way down," he thought. Donnie lay for a full ten minutes before his arms and legs stopped screaming at him. Once the pain of the climb was receding, the sound of rustling from the direction of the bird's nest registered in his ears. Turning over to lie on his front, he looked at the nest. It was constructed with twigs and looked at least two feet high. Another noise reached him and Donnie realised there was something in the nest. Once he rose to his knees he immediately saw the large, magnificent, bird of prey. It was clearly in distress and all thoughts of aching muscles were suddenly gone as Donnie crawled closer to see whether he could help it. Up close, the bird was even more impressive. Donnie guessed it was over two feet in length, its feathers mostly brown but with flecks of gold on the back on its head and neck and some splashes of white on the wings and tail. The bird's feet and part of one wing seemed tangled in something – "fishing line," Donnie thought – and it was struggling to try to free itself. "A golden eagle! Is that why you've brought me here, Beira? Is this who needs my help? Am I to save this magnificent bird for you? That's not much of a challenge! I would gladly climb this mountain all over again for the chance to help such a king of birds," Donnie thought. He could see that the bird's struggles were growing weaker and he wondered just how long it had been trapped. Rummaging through his pockets, Donnie found his pocket-knife and prepared to try to cut the fishing line to free the eagle. The bird had stopped struggling altogether now and was instead watching him intently, following his every move. Its eyes were a mix of brown and gold with coal black pupils, and there was no doubting the intelligence reflected there. Donnie was more focused on the eagle's wickedly curved beak and the powerful talons on each foot – they were the bits that looked dangerous! He took a deep breath before leaning forward to begin cutting. Just as he touched the first strand of the fishing line a painfully loud shriek sounded in his ear and he instinctively ducked, pulling his head into his shoulders as he dropped prone on the ledge. When he looked up, a second eagle had appeared and it swooped towards him before flaring its wings and settling on the opposite side of the nest. If anything this eagle was even bigger than the one tangled in the line and it too focused its golden eyes on Donnie. "Shit! Don't do that," Donnie cursed aloud, sitting up once more. He surmised this second eagle was the mate of the one trapped in the nest. It WAS bigger and its wingspan must have stretched to seven feet when it had alighted on the nest. Donnie eyed it warily. Would it attack him if he tried to free its mate? There was only one way to find out he decided. Leaning forward again, he took hold of a strand of fishing line and doubled it over the blade of his pocket-knife. Neither eagle made any move to attack him and Donnie relaxed a little, as he focused on cutting the line. It only took minutes before he had removed it all and the eagle was free. Donnie expected it to immediately spread its wings and take to the air, but instead it settled on the nest as if brooding. Just looking at the bird, Donnie could see that it was very weak. He wondered when it had last eaten anything and that reminded him of the remaining half of his roast beef sandwich. Pulling the bag from his pocket, he extracted the beef and tore it into small pieces. The eagle was surprisingly gentle as it took the beef when he offered it, but it gulped the meat down without chewing and was ready for more in an instant. "I'm sorry I don't have any more, my friend," said Donnie when the roast beef was all gone. "I'm not sure if eagles eat bread?" He soon found out that a starving bird will eat most anything, and the eagle quickly gobbled up the bread too. The second eagle let out another cry and took to the air, soaring with minimum effort on the thermals in the area. Donnie watched it fly in an ever increasing circle before it descended to the floor of the glen. Incredibly, he found that he could now look down from this great height without his acrophobia kicking in. It seemed as if he had conquered his fear of heights by confronting it and managing to make the climb. "How about that?" he smiled to himself. Within seconds the eagle below was aloft again and heading back towards the ledge. This time its landing was slightly awkward, owing to the fact that it held part of a dead rabbit in one claw. This was the left-overs from an earlier kill by the looks of things. As Donnie looked on, the eagle tore pieces of meat from the carcass and fed its mate. He hoped that the roast beef, bread and rabbit meat would be enough to revive the now freed bird. "I'm afraid that it will not be enough. He damaged himself trying to get free from the line." Donnie almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of the female voice. He spun round to find himself face to face with possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. She had long corn-coloured hair framing perfect features. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, as if she was amused at having surprised him so. A gossamer dress of pale pink seemed to ripple in the breeze. "I almost fell off the mountain!" Donnie complained. "No, don't do that. Beira would be very upset with me if that happened." She laughed. It was a sweet, clear, musical laugh. "Who are you? How did you get here?" Donnie asked, his heart-rate beginning to return to normal. "I am Sironaidh (Sironay), and I go where I choose." Donnie guessed that this beautiful woman was another goddess – how else could she appear out of nowhere at the top of a mountain? How else would she know Beira's name? He replayed what she had said when she had first appeared and was puzzled at her almost teasing manner. "Why are you laughing?" he asked. "If the eagle is hurt, then I will have failed the challenge that Beira set me. If he's not going to live then what's so funny?" "Beira warned me that you still have much to learn, but I didn't realise just how much. You are mistaken, Dòmhnall (Donald). Your task was not to save the eagle, although save it you will." Donnie looked at her, confused. "But if my task wasn't to save the bird, why am I here? Why would Beira put me here?" he asked. "Think, Dòmhnall. I can tell that you are intelligent. Use your wits. Answer your own question – what challenge did Beira set you?" the goddess asked. Donnie tried to figure out what she was getting at. What else could the challenge have been if it wasn't to save the eagle? He reviewed everything from the moment he had looked down and realised he was perched on the side of a mountain, thousands of feet up. There was only one thing he could think of. "I found something inside of me that I didn't know was there," he said. "Yes! You see, you are intelligent. There is hope for you yet. Yes, that was your task. That was what Beira wanted you to learn. Do not lose touch with that special place inside yourself now that you have found it." "But what about the eagle? Why are you laughing and teasing me while it is suffering?" Donnie demanded, still confused by this new goddess, "To answer that I must first give you a gift, which was Beira's second reason for sending you here. Take my hands," ordered Sironaidh. The goddess held out her own hands and Donnie hesitantly reached forward to take them in his. This touch was different to what he had felt from Beira, it was exhilarating. He felt a burst of pure energy and there was a sudden metallic taste in his mouth. The goddess' hands gripped his tightly and the energy burst continued. Donnie then heard the beautiful woman chant quietly. "I am Sironaidh, the healer. I serve mother Beira with all that I am. As she has commanded, so shall I obey. I bestow upon you my gift." Donnie felt the energy burst surge even more for just an instant and then Sironaidh dropped his hands and the sensation ceased. There were a few residual waves that pulsed up the length of his arms for a few seconds and then they faded. "I felt the spirit of Tailtui strong within you, young one. I see now why Beira has taken you under her wing. Use my gift wisely and now finish what you believed your task to be." Donnie's head was spinning and he had a number of questions. What had just happened? Who was this Tailtui that first Beira and now Sironaidh had referred to? Why were they suggesting he had something of her spirit inside him? What did Sironaidh mean when she said he was to finish what he thought his task to be? The beautiful goddess laughed anew at his questions, even though he had not voiced them. "I will answer one of your questions before I must go. The rest you can answer for yourself. Tailtui is the Earth-goddess. You have been born with a deep love of this earth and all that grows or lives on it, that is the spirit of Tailtui that lives within you. That is a true gift, not one given by the likes of me. Cherish all of your gifts, Dòmhnall, but the gift of Tailtui most of all." The beautiful woman smiled, laughed once again at the look on Donnie's face and then simply disappeared. Left alone once more, Donnie tried to marshal his thoughts. Sironaidh had said he was to finish the task that he thought had been set for him. That had to mean saving the eagle, but she had said that the bird had hurt itself. "How can I save him?" he asked himself. Other elements of their conversation came back to him. She had said "Your task was not to save the eagle, although save it you will." That suggested that he could still do something for the magnificent bird. Turning to his right, he looked at the golden eagle once more. The food seemed to have done wonders, but he could now see that the wing that had been tangled in the fishing line was hanging limp. "She called herself the goddess of healing and said that she was giving me a gift. Does that mean that I've somehow been given the power of healing?" he asked himself. The eagle was still looking at him, its golden eyes fixing him with a beady stare. Feeling just a little foolish, Donnie knelt down beside the nest again and reached over to take the eagle's damaged wing between his palms. Nothing happened. "Well I guess I was wrong about that then. Or maybe not, perhaps I need to do something other than simply touch the bird," he thought. Concentrating once more, Donnie reached out mentally and tried to connect with the 'something' within himself that had helped him begin the climb up the mountain. Almost immediately he was able to make a connection to it and found that it was already more familiar to him. The connection seemed to boost his strength and confidence once more and then he realised that a new sensation existed alongside the first. He let his mind explore this new sensation. It had a different quality to the one that had given him strength, this one felt comforting somehow. "Perhaps the first one is this spirit of Tailtui that Beira and Sironaidh have mentioned and now Sironaidh has given me the second one?" he mused. "Let's try it out and see." He reached out to connect with the second 'source' within himself and felt comforting waves wash over him. Now mentally connected with both sources, Donnie focused once more on the wing that he held between his palms. This time he felt a definite heat leaving his finger-tips and the eagle made a chirping noise. Donnie released the wing and backed away from the nest. To his joy, the eagle flapped its wings and hopped up onto the edge of the nest. It seemed to look at him for a second before it dipped its head – almost like a bow – and then dropped from the nest into the abyss. Its wings opened and Donnie cheered aloud as it began to soar on the thermals. The second eagle then launched itself off the nest with a cry and swooped to circle with its mate. "I guess my work here is done. All I have to do is find my way off of this mountain and back home." he thought, looking up at the remaining climb that he would have to face. Before he could move, another wave of vertigo struck Donnie and when he opened his eyes he found that he was once more lying within the stone circle of Clachan an Diridh. Beira was still sitting in front of him, her golden aura just as bright and warming as before. "Good. You have found what I wanted you to find and Sironaidh has given you her gift. That's a good start in your service to me, but be warned that there are much sterner challenges to come, Dòmhnall. Now, I must leave you, as I hear your faithful Ruaraidh returning with your father. Until we meet again my young Gregorach." There was no dramatic exit from the goddess. One second she was there and the next – gone. Donnie could feel the difference in the temperature immediately, it was much colder without Beira's heating aura and of course, with her golden light gone, he was submerged in darkness once again. The sound of an approaching tractor engine reached his ears now and Donnie knew that Beira had been right, his father was close by. The sound of excited barking preceded the powerful beam of the searchlight that was mounted on his father's old Ford and suddenly Rory was beside him, licking his face in delight. Moments later his father was bending over him. "Donnie! Donnie! You're alive! Thank goodness. Your mother is beside herself with worry. Oh son, oh Lord. Thank god you're okay, thank god." "Dad, I'm fine and you're rambling," Donnie managed to laugh. "Can you stand?" his father asked. Donnie wasn't sure of the answer to that, so he sat up and then gingerly tried to stand. To his surprise, he found that he felt perfectly fine. There was no exhaustion, no aches or pains and no hint of the hypothermia he had certainly been suffering from. Other than a slight stinging on his left shoulder, he had never felt so good. Donnie guessed that had more than a little to do with the two goddesses, which triggered a question. How was he going to explain all of that to his parents? "Maybe I'll think about that for a bit before I say anything. Let's face it, they'll probably think I've gone mad if I tell them what really happened," he thought. He smiled at his father's obvious relief at finding him safe and asked a question. "I take it Rory led you to me?" "Aye. He arrived back at the farmhouse about nine o'clock and wouldn't stop barking until I started the tractor. The poor dog must be out on his feet," Douglas answered. "You don't know the half of it," Donnie muttered to himself, thinking back on the miraculous feat Rory had achieved. "Is this what you risked your life for?" his father asked, pointing to the sheep still wrapped in the old blanket. Donnie has almost forgotten the animal. It seemed so long ago since he had started to drag it down the hill. "Somebody left a gate open and the flock must have been spooked by something," he began to explain. "It looks like they fell down into the ravine. Do you remember the wall we built with the rocks? That's where it happened. The snow must have cushioned their fall, but this one was hurt." Douglas shook his head. It was just like his youngest son to put the injured animal before his own safety. "Let's get you and it onto the tractor and home to put a stop to your mother's worries. Give me a hand." Together father and son lifted the sheep and carried it to the tractor. Donnie noticed for the first time that the snow had stopped. With foresight, Douglas had hooked-up one of his smaller trailers. He had guessed that Donnie had been searching for the sheep that was missing from the flock and that he might need to transport it back to the farm. They laid the animal gently in the trailer. Donnie crouched down and looked into the eyes of his trusty companion, Rory. "Thank you. Thank you for saving my life," he whispered and scratched the dog's ears fondly. "You've been on your feet long enough. You deserve a ride home. Come on, up you get boy." Donnie urged the Collie to jump into the trailer beside the sheep and then joined his father in the cab of the tractor. Douglas fired more questions at him as they drove slowly down the hill and back to the farm. "How badly injured is the sheep?" "I'm not sure; I didn't really have a chance to check. There was a blizzard and I knew I didn't have much time before darkness fell so I just wanted to get it off the hill as quickly as possible." "How did you end up sheltering in Clachan an Diridh, that's not exactly on the route from the ravine to the road?" "Like I said, there was a blizzard. I must have become disorientated," Donnie replied. "After I found the circle, I just tried to keep warm and hoped that Rory would be able to bring help." "I suppose I'll have to get the vet out to look at the sheep," his father mused. Donnie didn't respond to that. Instead, he wondered if he could use the gift Sironaidh had given him to heal the sheep. When they arrived back at the farmhouse the door flew open and Donnie's mother came racing up to the tractor. She pulled him bodily from the cab and hugged him tightly, sobbing into his chest. After a few moments like this, she pushed him back and began scolding him loudly. "What were you thinking of! You really should know better, you could have been killed! You stupid, silly, boy! You know you shouldn't have been out on the hill in this weather..." "Mom, I'm fine," he interrupted her attack. "I'm perfectly fine. There was a sheep to be saved and I did what I had to do." "Get yourself inside the house so I can see for myself whether you're fine. I've got some soup warmed up, I'm sure you must be starved," she fussed now, pulling him towards the door. Douglas grinned at his son's predicament, but then frowned as he realised he would need to deal with the sheep on his own. Rory was already following Donnie and his mother in through the farmhouse door. He was trying to figure out how he was going to move the animal when Donnie re-appeared. "I convinced mom that you'd need a hand. Once she saw that I was in one piece, the fussing stopped and I became just a farm labourer again," he laughed. "I'll clear a space in the barn," his father advised. Once his father's back was turned, Donnie hurried over to the trailer and reached out to hold the sheep's head. His ability to connect to the hidden gifts inside himself was clearly improving, as he found them quickly and focused on the sheep. He was able to sense some damage to its ribs on the right hand side and also a fracture to the right hind leg. He tried to focus the comforting waves from his gift and once again felt heat escaping through his finger-tips. He concentrated on directing the healing power to where it was needed. "Are you praying for it?" His father's voice in his ear almost made Donnie jump, but he knew the healing was not quite complete so he tried to retain focus for a little longer, while covering up what he was doing. "She was getting a little agitated," he said, "I'm just trying to keep her calm." "I'll get her from this end," said his father, oblivious to the minor miracle that was taking place in front of him. A few seconds later, Donnie sighed in relief, as he felt that his work was done – the sheep was healed. He could now simply help to carry the fully recovered animal over to the barn. When they set it down and pulled the blanket off, the animal got to its feet and gave a nervous bleat. Douglas gave his son a puzzled look. "It seems fine," he said. Donnie shrugged. "Perhaps it was just stunned," he suggested. The sheep confirmed it was in perfect health by choosing that moment to make a dart for the barn door. Douglas laughed as he managed to grab the animal before it could escape. "We'll leave her in here for tonight and you can take her back when you go to recover the bike in the morning," he said. They left the now fit sheep and returned to the farmhouse for some homemade soup. After they had eaten, Donnie made sure to put out a large bowl of Rory's favourite meat and biscuits. He was then stuck answering another barrage of questions from his mother before deciding his best way to escape was to claim tiredness. Heading to the upstairs bathroom to wash before bed, Donnie pulled off his shirt and got another shock. The source of the sharp pain he had felt immediately before Beira transported him to the cliff-face was now evident. On his left shoulder was a livid burn, but it was no ordinary burn. It appeared as if Beira had branded him, as he could clearly see the shape of a rugged mountain with a hammer crossing it diagonally. What it meant he had no idea, but Donnie suspected that it wouldn't fade. "She has branded me. Does that mean she owns me, that I'm her creature now?" he wondered. After examining the brand more closely in the mirror he had a quick wash and then crawled under the duvet on his bed. This was his first chance to reflect on what had been an incredible day. He knew his life had changed forever – the goddess had openly warned him there were more difficult challenges to come, challenges that she said would test even her. That sounded scary! As he drifted towards sleep, snatches of what Beira had said to him replayed in his head. Suddenly he sat bolt upright. "Rory! Beira said I would return the service for him. What did she mean? He saved me, am I supposed to save him? Why does he need to be saved?" Getting out of bed, Donnie quickly pulled his clothes on and headed back downstairs. By now his parents had gone to bed too and the house was quiet. When Donnie switched on the light in the farmhouse kitchen, he saw that Rory hadn't touched the food he had put out for him. That was unusual. Walking through into the sitting room, Donnie switched on the light here too and saw that Rory was lying in his usual spot in front of the TV. He could see the Collie's eyes were open, watching him, but its head didn't come up as Donnie expected. "Something is wrong with him," Donnie thought. He hurried across the room and sat down in front of the dog. The Collie followed his movement, but still he didn't raise his head. Donnie took hold of Rory's head and lifted it from the floor. He looked into his friend's eyes and saw that he was clearly in pain. It was almost second nature now for Donnie to reach out and connect to his gifts. When he did, he got a shock. "His heart! His heart looks completely worn out! Oh Rory, what have I done to you my friend?" His connection allowed Donnie to 'sense' the Collie's heart and sure enough it seemed tired and withered, as if it was old and used up. The dog's exertions on the hill in saving his young master had clearly taken a massive toll and Donnie shared the pain that Rory was experiencing. "My friend, what a truly noble beast you are. You have given me everything you had to give. Everything. You have broken your very heart to save me." Once again tears leaked from Donnie's eyes at the magnitude of the sacrifice the Collie had made. Rory's tongue somehow managed to weakly snake out to lick the salty tears as they rolled down the boy's cheeks. Shaking himself, Donnie focused like never before and almost sensed that he held the Collie's heart between his hands. "Goddess, you said that I would return the service. Please let it be so, please grant me this favour for he doesn't deserve this. Not after making such a sacrifice." Concentrating on his link to Sironaidh's gift, he willed wave after wave of the comforting sensation down his arms and out through his fingers. The hot sensation told him that his gift was working and he sensed the damaged heart muscle slowly being repaired. Rory gave a quiet whimper, and Donnie could see in the dog's eyes that it knew something was happening. "You deserve nothing less, my friend. This is the least I can do to repay the loyalty and devotion you have shown me. Heal, Rory. Heal!" This time the healing seemed to take a lot longer and it also seemed to take more out of Donnie than his previous efforts with the eagle and the sheep had. Some time later, he felt a wet tongue licking his face and he realised that he had either blacked-out or fallen asleep on the floor. He managed to sit up and saw that Rory looked much better. Reaching out, he laid a hand on the Collie's flank and immediately 'sensed' that its heart was as good as new. His efforts had been repaid. The clock over the fireplace suggested he had been out of bed for several hours, but that didn't matter. His trusty companion was alive! Rory was alive and well, how fantastic was that? Rory seemed to be in complete agreement, as he continued to lick Donnie's face to express his thanks. ------- Chapter 4 Donnie was awake at his usual time, 05:00. It was Sunday and that meant that his parents would expect him to join them at the Parish Church as always. Before then though, there was plenty to do on a working farm. Dragging himself out of bed, he snagged his towel and headed to the bathroom to wash and brush his teeth. Beira's 'brand' reflected back at him from the mirror once more, and he realised that the stinging pain was gone. Donnie ran his fingers over the mark and found that it wasn't at all sensitive. He was still wondering why the goddess had done such a thing. The Church service began at 10:30, but before then Donnie had quite a bit to do. He needed to take some feed out to the sheep, break any ice that had formed in their drinking trough so they had water and also recover the quad bike so that he and his father could try to fix it. The bike was too heavy to push up onto a trailer, so he would need to take the tractor that had a winch that would do the job. A quick breakfast of cereal and a hot cup of coffee was soon polished off and Donnie wrapped up well before heading for the barn to get the sheep that he had healed. Rory of course was right at his heel and Donnie murmured a prayer of thanks to the goddess for the miracle that had allowed him to repair the Collie's heart. "Come on, boy. Keep up!" Donnie teased. Inside the barn, Donnie wasted no time in wrestling the sheep to the floor so that he could wrap it up again in the old blanket. That would stop it injuring itself in the trailer as he took it back to the lower pasture on Bochastle Hill. "Here, Rory. You two have a lot in common. You've both been treated by my own fair hands. How was my bedside manner?" The silly attempt at a joke was just illustrative of the extremely happy mood Donnie was in. Being able to save Rory was perhaps the best thing that had ever happened to him in his short life. "Up boy," he urged, ordering the dog into the trailer beside the sheep. When he made it out onto the public highway he could see that there hadn't been any fresh snow overnight. Out here in the 'sticks' though there hadn't been a plough through to clear the road and there was therefore still enough snow covering to make the going extremely treacherous. After dropping the sheep off with the rest of the flock, he recovered the quad bike and took it back to the farm. "Are you going to help me work on it?" his father asked. "Not yet, I thought Rory and I would hook up the snow plough and clear the roads through the village," Donnie replied. "Good idea. We probably won't see one of those council snow ploughs before February!" his father laughed. Once Donnie had cleared the main road into and out of the village, he returned to the farm and fed Rory. He sat down to his own second, more substantial, breakfast. Mairi McGregor wouldn't admit it, but she was spoiling her youngest son after the fright she had had the night before. She put a huge plate of bacon, eggs, potato scones and fried haggis down in front of him and then fussed around the kitchen while she watched him eat. "Well, there's certainly nothing wrong with your appetite, young man," she observed. "Mom, I told you. I'm fine," Donnie replied. Once his second breakfast was finished and he had washed up afterwards, Donnie washed himself again and dressed in his 'Sunday best' in readiness for Church. The family piled in to the old Range-Rover for the journey into Kilmahog and Donnie hung around awkwardly as his parents greeted friends and neighbours before the service. Donnie smiled shyly at Heather MacAuley, a girl in his year at school. While he liked her a lot, he didn't have the nerve to go over to speak to her. During the service itself Donnie began to wonder about attending a Christian Church after having agreed to serve one of the old Scots' Goddesses. He squirmed a little when it came time to recite the Lord's Prayer, until his conscience was eased by a voice in his head. "There is nothing to worry about, Dòmhnall. This god and his son are not incompatible with me and my kind. We happily co-exist and I am not a jealous god, but make no mistake – you do now serve me!" Donnie could have sworn he heard a faint chuckle after Beira's words, but he felt re-assured nonetheless. After Church, Donnie got changed once more and then helped his father try to find out what was wrong with the quad bike. The problem proved to be relatively minor, although they would need to buy some parts before it would be ready for use again. Father and son rubbed their hands with thick swarfega gel to clean the worst of the oil and grime off, then used the outside tap to finish washing. "Okay, I guess I should give you a few hours off to do any school work you've got," said Donnie's father. Donnie grinned to himself. Although his parents knew he was intelligent and that he did well at school, they didn't fully realise just how academically gifted he was. Most of his assignments were completed in class and he rarely needed to do school work at home. Not sharing this information with his parents ensured that Donnie had an hour or two each night for himself. That time was normally used to happily surf the web, play his PC games or chat online with friends. Today though, Donnie had a burning need to do some research on the web and he knew this was his opportunity. Once his PC had booted up, he typed in his first Google search of the afternoon. Wikipedia And Beira The first 'hit' took him to a page that listed a range of Wikipedia entries for 'Beira'. The first one was for: Beira (mythology), the mother to all the gods and goddesses in the Celtic mythology of Scotland Donnie's excitement grew as he clicked on the link to take him to this more specific wiki entry. It was something of a disappointment though when he saw that this further page was only a single paragraph and it didn't tell him much. He did notice that there was a further link under 'See Also' and the name Cailleach was listed. Thinking back to his first conversation with Beira, he was sure she had used this name while referring to the face that was her 'winter' face. Donnie clicked on the link. His eyes lit up as this time there was quite a bit of information and he immediately began to read. One particular passage caught his eye. In Scotland, where she is also known as Beira, Queen of Winter, she is credited with making numerous mountains and large hills, which are said to have been formed when she was striding across the land and accidentally dropped rocks from her apron. In other cases she is said to have built the mountains intentionally, to serve as her stepping stones. She carries a hammer for shaping the hills and valleys, and is said to be the mother of all the goddesses and gods. The Cailleach displays several traits befitting the personification of Winter: she herds deer, she fights Spring, and her staff freezes the ground. In partnership with the goddess Brighde, the Cailleach is seen as a seasonal deity or spirit, ruling the winter months between Samhainn (November 1) and Bealltainn (May 1), while Brìghde rules the summer months between Bealltainn and Samhainn. Some interpretations have the Cailleach and Brìghde as two faces of the same goddess. The significance of the brand on his shoulder now made more sense for Donnie. The mountain and crossed hammer were undoubtedly Beira's symbols and he was certain that she had branded him as being one of her servants. "Does this mean that there are others who carry her mark? Is this maybe some way for her servants to recognise each other?" he asked himself. Further reading led to Donnie discovering that there was a Glen Cailleach not far away from the farmhouse – that was surely no co-incidence? He quickly scanned what the article had to say about the place. This area is famous for a pagan ritual which according to legend is associated to the Cailleach. There is a small Sheiling in the Glen, known as either Tigh nan Cailleach (House of Cailleach) or Tigh nam Bodach (House of Bodach), which houses a series of carved stones. These stones, according to local legend, represent the Cailleach, her husband the Bodach and their children. The local legend suggests that the Cailleach and her family were given shelter in the glen by the locals and while they stayed there the glen was always fertile and prosperous. When they left they gave the stones to the locals with the promise that as long as the stones were put out to look over the glen at Beltane and put back into the shelter and made secure for the winter at Samhain then the glen would continue to be fertile. This ritual is still carried out to this day. "Maybe I should make the effort to go and see this Glen Cailleach. Maybe I should go and see Cailleach's house and the stones for myself," he thought. When he found a reference to Beira's connection to Argyll and in particular Loch Awe and the great mountain, Cruachan, Donnie had to smile. He had visited this area a number of times and it was one of his favourite parts of Scotland. He liked the idea that the goddess was known to frequent mighty Ben Cruachan. Further searches told him a little about Tailtui, but the closest he could get to Sironaidh was a goddess called Sirona. What he read agreed with what he knew however – Tailtui was an earth-goddess and Sirona was a healer. When he was finished, he realised he knew a little more, but not much. None of his research gave him any clues as to why Beira had chosen him or what challenges were to come. Still, it was a start. There was only one further search that Donnie could think of to pursue. He returned to the Google home page and typed in Gregorach before hitting the enter key. Beira had referred to him as 'Gregorach' a number of times, and he was keen to try to find out what it meant. This time his search didn't return very much of value other than a clue from an old song – Highland Justice: Call of the Claymore/Assize of the Gregorach. It seemed that 'Gregorach' was a collective term for the members of the McGregor clan. Intrigued by this, Donnie searched for 'wikipedia and clan McGregor' This time he found a lot of information, including the fact that the McGregor's claimed to be direct descendents from Kenneth mac Alpin, the very first King of Scots. Indeed, the clan motto was given as 'S Rioghal Mo Dhream, which was translated as Royal is my Race. Before he could read all that there was on the McGregor's, he heard his mother calling that his lunch was ready. Donnie bookmarked the page, knowing he would return to it as soon as possible. ------- From that day forward Donnie grew used to Beira's voice suddenly saying something inside his head. There were no more physical challenges to contend with, but he was becoming familiar with the goddesses challenging his thinking or challenging him to do better in aspects of his day to day life. The remainder of January proved to be colder than Scotland normally experienced, with record low temperatures and record snow-falls. The TV news seemed to be full of reports of roads being closed, traffic chaos and shortages of salt and grit to treat the highways. The harsh winter was a topic that manifested itself in a number of Donnie's classes at school. In Geography, they studied historical weather patterns and discussed whether the current record low temperatures were somehow evidence of the impact of global warming. There was one particular lesson that caught Donnie's interest, as he could immediately see the significant implications of what the teacher was getting at. "So, let's look at this again. The United Kingdom has historically benefited from the Gulf Stream. It originates off of the coast of Florida. Here you can see it flows East, bringing the warm currents that have ensured more temperate conditions than we might expect given our latitude. "Now, we have looked at the effect that the North Atlantic Deep Water Mass from the Labrador Sea has in pulling the Gulf Stream Northwards. The extremely cold, very heavy, salt water sinks deep towards the bottom of the ocean and this displacement pulls the warmer and lighter water of the Gulf Stream North. That raises the average temperature around the UK and we are warmer than we have a right to expect. Now, what happens as the Arctic ice-flows melt? That releases fresh water to dilute the salt water. What do you think will happen?" asked the Geography teacher. Donnie understood that the salt was part of making the water heavier so that if it was diluted by fresh water, it wouldn't be so heavy. Logic suggested that would mean it was less likely to sink and in turn that would mean there would be no 'displacement' to pull the gulf stream North. "Wouldn't that mean the United Kingdom would become much colder?" Donnie mused. "Mr McGregor, you look deep in thought. Would you like to share your thoughts with the rest of the class?" Donnie explained the logical reasoning he had just gone through. "Excellent! That's exactly right. And there is evidence to suggest that this has in fact happened once before and both ourselves and the West coast of America experienced a mini ice-age. But, it goes much further than that. There are two main areas where Deep Water Masses are formed. There's the one we have just looked at in the North Atlantic and there's another in the Southern Ocean. Together these two areas cause heavy water to sink and they create something called the Global Conveyor Belt – these are the currents that control the movement AND temperature of all of the Earth's Oceans. Those currents and temperatures in turn have a dramatic influence on weather conditions. "So, what I'm saying is that if global warming melts the ice, we will have fresh water diluting the salt water, which in turn will affect the currents of the oceans. Such an event could have dramatic implications for weather conditions all around the world." "He is right. It has already begun." Beira told Donnie. The impact of the weather was also heavily discussed in his economics class. Here the focus was on how much damage was being done to the UK's economy. The increasing incidence of flooding and drought around the world was leading to shortages and driving up food prices everywhere. In the UK, the snow and ice were once again leading to roads being closed, goods not being moved round the country and consumers being less likely to go out to shop. Even though there was a short-term increase in on-line shopping, the state of the roads meant that nothing could be delivered so that 'boom' would end pretty quickly. With deliveries not getting through, there were already signs of shortages – fuel and some foodstuffs – and this was leading to panic-buying which simply exacerbated any slight problems. Colder temperatures were also leading to increased fuel consumption and the UK was already reliant on imports for 20 percent of its oil needs and 40 percent of the gas it used. That reliance was seen as an economic weakness. "You need to understand all of this. Its importance will become clear later," said the goddess. It was Donnie's science classes however that held his attention most. In particular the study of alternative energy sources and how genetic modification and other techniques might be used to boost farm production were fascinating. These and other ideas to make the UK more self-sustaining, were subjects that he linked to how the country could deal with colder winters in future. "You have a big contribution to make in this Dòmhnall." Donnie's father had a slightly different take on how the country was coping (or indeed, not coping) with the winter weather. One particular rant stuck out in Donnie's memory. "Look at countries that get colder winters than we do – Sweden, Norway and Finland. They get lower temperatures and more average snowfall by far than the UK. Do those countries grind to a halt after a couple of days of snow? No way! This country just needs to get its act together. We need to plan and prepare better. It's not as if winter is a surprise! It comes around every year, so why aren't we ready for it?" Donnie thought that his father had a good point. He also wondered whether it was possible that the colder than normal winter had nothing to do with global warming. Was it possible that the fact that Beira was active had anything to do with it? "No, it is global warming – this is all down to mankind. Even I, goddess of Winter, cannot stop it. All I can do is help you prepare." ------- The school year between Autumn 2008 and Summer 2009 was an important one for Donnie. Although he was only fifteen, the date of his birthday meant that he was almost the youngest in his year group. This was his fourth year of secondary school and the year that he would sit his standard grades. His performance in those would determine whether he could stay on for a fifth year to sit 'Highers', a pre-requisite for entry to University. Donnie was due to sit eight standard grades: Maths; English; Physics; Chemistry; Biology; Business; Computing; and Economics The choice of subjects was of course linked to what career path a student wanted to follow. For now, Donnie hadn't decided whether he wanted to study medicine or business. He was pretty sure that he would do well in his exams, but wasn't complacent and he had studied hard through the Christmas holidays. Now, going into the New Year, he hit the books again, determined to get good grades. "It is important for you to learn these things, so I will not call on you until after your exams," the goddess helpfully informed him. ------- Donnie was sitting in his room, absently looking out of the window at the way the January gale-force winds were buffeting the trees surrounding the farm. The pine trees in particular were swaying back and forth quite a distance. "It certainly looks like a good day to be running a wind-farm," he joked internally. Wind-farms had been appearing in various places in the UK, including some that had been situated out to sea. Donnie was all in favour of the development of alternative energy sources, anything that was good for the planet was positive so far as he was concerned. Alternative energy sources could also reduce the country's reliance on fuel imports. Donnie knew that land-based wind-farms faced significant resistance from local communities however, and his daydreaming led to him having an idea. "I wonder if it would be possible to harness the wind energy without having to put up all those ugly wind-turbines? Maybe there's a way to wire-up the trees themselves so that everything would still look perfectly natural? It's only about using kinetic energy to produce electric energy after all. I wonder if it could be done, that would be pretty neat." "It's a great idea, Dòmhnall, why don't you try it?" "Beira? Was that you?" he asked, not sure if his imagination was playing tricks. "Of course it's me, who else speaks to you this way? How many other goddesses do you serve? Your idea is a good one, you can make this work." "But how would I go about it?" Donnie asked. He waited but there was no response to his question. "Beira? Beira? Oh, that's typical. She never gives me a clue about what I'm supposed to do!" His idea and Beira's response to it had stirred his imagination though and forgetting the goddess for the moment, he began to research wind energy on his computer. Several hours later, he had some ideas for how this could work. "Basically what I need is some tubes, not wires. If I could get some tubes with hydraulic fluid inside them, then the swaying of the trees would move the hydraulic fluid and I could get that movement to turn a generator," he thought. Donnie quickly sketched out his idea on some paper putting Tree energy MkI at the top of the page. Sure that his idea had merit, he went in search of his father to see what he thought. Douglas wasn't an engineer, but he was a practical man and years of repairing farm machinery had given him some insight into how things worked. He thought his son's idea had some merit and agreed that he would help him to build a prototype. "If it works you'll need to take out a patent to stop some big company stealing your idea," he warned Donnie. Over the course of the next few weeks father and son took every available hour to turn Donnie's sketch into a working version of his tree energy generator. They started small but were encouraged when they managed to prove the concept. The most dangerous part of the work was having to climb high into the trees to attach the tubes with the hydraulic fluid, but Donnie had overcome his fear of heights. Once they were sure the idea worked, Donnie had discovered that he could apply for a patent on-line. He completed the necessary forms, attached a drawing and specification for the various elements of his design and e-mailed it off. Having proved to himself that he could generate electricity from wind and trees and having hopefully safeguarded his design via a patent, Donnie set his idea aside for the time being and returned to studying for his exams. His first exam was in the last week of April and from then on he had to sit another every second or third day. By the second week in May he was finished and he was also exhausted – exams, the stress, seemed to drain the body faster than hard physical exercise he thought. "Your exams are finished. Now you have some time to enjoy yourself, but be warned, I may have need of you soon." The goddess' warning quickened Donnie's pulse, but her suggestion that he had some time to enjoy himself also had Donnie thinking. The first thing that entered his head was Heather MacAuley. "I bet I'll dream of Heather again tonight. Her long blonde hair, her green eyes, her willowy figure and even her cute, slightly upturned nose. Everything about her is perfect," he thought. At fifteen Donnie had virtually no sexual experience, but having lived on a farm all of his life he at least knew the mechanics of sex. The Internet was also helpful in filling in some of the gaps when it came to the finer points of making love to a girl. Heather and the information from his PC had fuelled his dreamtime fantasies for more than two years now. Donnie was well aware what the sticky substance was on his sheet on the occasions he awoke after one of these dream. Sexually naive though, he had never resorted to masturbation. Always a shy boy around girls, neither had he worked up the courage to ask Heather out. Once in bed that night, he tossed and turned for some time. When he closed his eyes his mind conjured up a picture of his dream girl. He felt himself hardening and turned over again, trying to think of anything else but Heather. At last exhaustion got the better of his imagination and he began to drop off to sleep. Donnie's dream seemed even better than usual. Incredibly, he could feel Heather taking his hard cock into her mouth and the warm moist feeling was like nothing he could have imagined. Something about that phrase bothered him... "Like nothing I could have imagined. Mmmmmmm, oh goddess that feels good. Uuuuuhhhhhhh, like nothing I could have imagined." Donnie's eyes snapped open. "It does feel like nothing I could have imagined, so how can I be imagining it?" Throwing the duvet aside, Donnie was shocked to see a petite woman crouched between his legs. Her green eyes twinkled at him as she bobbed up and down on his rampant hardness. "Oh god, oh god, uuuggghhhhhh!" moaned Donnie. "Stop, you need to stop. Wwwhhhoooo are yyyooouuuu?" The woman's long coal-black hair covered her face for a moment and Donnie could actually feel the silken tresses caress the sensitive skin of his balls. He felt her head leave his cock and he watched as she flicked her hair to one side. "Do you really want me to stop? Are you reeeaaalllyyyy sure?" Before Donnie could answer, the beautiful woman goddess? he thought, dropped to enclose him in her hot, sucking mouth once more. "Uuuggghhhhh! Mmmmmmmmmmhhhhhnnnnnnn," moaned the youngster. At the foot of the bed, Rory's head was up and he was watching proceedings with what looked almost like a grin on his doggy face. The woman pulled her mouth all the way to the head of Donnie's organ and her tongue came out to lick and wrap itself around his extremely sensitive frenulum. She paused in her licking, her hand rhythmically jacking his cock instead. "Beira thought it was high time your sexual education caught up with the rest of your learning, Gregorach. Satisfying a woman is going to be an important part of your future. I am Epona, I will be your teacher. I promise you will enjoy the lessons!" Epona's talented mouth returned to wrap itself around his staff and Donnie moaned as she quickly drove him to the very edge of climax before releasing him again. "This MacAuley girl is not the one you are destined to be with. Tarry with her if you must, but keep your heart secure for a little while yet. When I give you my gift, you will no longer be tongue-tied with the fairer sex, but I caution you not to abuse your power. You will know when to use it." Finished with words, Epona dove for his rampant manhood again and this time she continued to bob until Donnie erupted. "Aaaaahhhh, goddess, goddesss, aaarrgggggg!" he groaned, as rope after rope of his boy cum flooded her mouth. At the point of ejaculation, Donnie's sexual release was multiplied by another sensation shooting through him and it all became too much – sensory overload set in and the fifteen year old blacked-out. ------- Chapter 5 Autumn 2009, Craig Bheithe Farm, Perthshire, Scotland The Summer months were somewhat frustrating for young Donnie as he had no further contact with the goddesses. Still, his time was crammed full of work on the farm helping his father and brother on Craig Bheithe. He was so busy he had little time to dwell on the warning Beira had given him after his exams – that she might call on him at any time. Donnie did find that being linked to the gifts within himself made quite a difference in his life. He had much more confidence and as a result became somewhat more outgoing. He began to play better on the local rugby team and even found he could speak to Heather MacAuley without turning into a stuttering wreck. He heeded Epona's warning though and didn't try to pursue the beautiful blonde girl. Summer was giving way to Autumn and that meant it was almost time for harvesting the McGregor's wheat, oats and barley. The results of his exams were also due and school would be going back in a few weeks, after the long Summer holidays. Despite that, Donnie knew that he would be spending long evenings helping his father bring in the harvest. Summer had also blessed Donnie with a growth spurt and he now stood at a full six foot, two inches tall. Today his task was to test the moisture of the grain, a job he enjoyed doing. This chore allowed him to be out in the fields all day and that was where he felt most at home. The sun beat down on his back and he was surrounded by nature in all her glory. Donnie also knew that he was being given a big responsibility, as getting the moisture right before harvest had a huge bearing on the worth of the grain. As always, faithful Rory was at his side as much as possible. Donnie hand-picked a number of ears from each field and used the farm's portable meter to test the sample. He measured three separate samples for each field, taking grain from different point across the crop, and averaged the results to get an accurate reading. It was still early, a glance at his watch told him it was only 09:50, but he had been out since 07:00 and he felt he was due a break. His mother had packed food for the day in a bag and he had it stowed behind the seat of the now repaired quad bike. Opening the bag, he extracted the roughly cut bread and cheese along with a small bottle of mineral water. He climbed onto a nearby gate and began eating the simple food, washing it down with the water. The sound of larks singing was a perfect soundtrack to frame the view he had over the fields of ripening wheat. "I wonder when the goddess will call on me again?" he wondered idly, taking another bite of the mature cheese. "It's funny that you should ask that question, young Gregorach! There is an urgent task that requires your attention." Once again Donnie was surprised by Beira's sudden physical appearance and he toppled from the gate to land with a thud on the ground. Groaning, he pulled himself up and brushed the dust from his clothes. "Is it obligatory for goddesses to surprise us lesser mortals?" Donnie grumbled. Beira let out a cackle that suited her appearance as an old woman. Donnie did notice however that it was the face that had previously been asleep that was now facing the front and talking to him. Beira laughed, once again reading his thoughts. "Yes, you're right. This is my Brighde persona, my 'summer face' if you like. But I am still Beira and you need to stop complaining! One minute you're pining to see me again and the next you moan because you get your wish! Are you ready to serve me again?" she asked. "Of course I'm ready; I just wish you would stop surprising me like that. Sironaidh did the same thing and I almost fell from a mountain-top." "Ha, she didn't tell me that! I believe you had no such complaint at the way Epona appeared though! But enough, I have a task for you Dòmhnall; one that I think will appeal to you. There should be little danger, but your intervention will be significant for what is to come. Are you ready?" "Wait! What is my task? Aren't you going to explain anything?" ------- Glen Strae, Scotland. 1603 Donnie's frantic questions were cut off, as once again he felt the vertigo that he had on his last 'challenge'. When the feeling passed, he found that he was standing on a hillside looking down the length of a glen. A high mountain peak rose up to dominate the horizon, its slopes green and purple with the heather in bloom. Steady rain was falling and Donnie realised that he wasn't really dressed for this kind of weather. He had stripped down to his shirt-sleeves while measuring the grain moisture and was now feeling the cold. It was noticeably cooler and he wondered where Beira had transported him to. "She didn't even send Rory with me," he grumbled. If not for the cold and wet weather, Donnie decided he would have been pleased to be here in this glen. It was certainly picturesque and easy on the eye, with a fast-flowing river winding its way along the length and a smattering of oak and birch dotted around. The sides of the glen were steep, but not completely vertical and he guessed he would be able to climb up relatively easily. His survey was interrupted by a harsh challenge from above. "Co a tha sibh? Dè tha thu ag iarraidh?" (Who are you? What do you want?) Looking up, Donnie saw a dirty, fierce-looking man in full highland dress. He also noticed that the highlander was holding a Claymore sword in his hands and that it was pointing accusingly at him. Not having understood a word of the challenge, Donnie was worried about the sword and what it meant. He was also wondering what this man was doing out in the wilds dressed the way he was. "Have I stumbled into one of those battle re-enactment things?" he wondered. The highlander repeated his challenge and Donnie saw that he had started making his way down the side of the glen, coming closer. If this was part of a re-enactment, Donnie decided that it was certainly pretty authentic. The man looked as if he was definitely going to attack him and either he was a great actor or Donnie thought he was in trouble. "Hi, there! I'm sorry, but I seem to be lost. Can you help me?" Donnie tried. "Dè thuirt thu?" was the highlander's response. (What did you say?) By now he was getting very close and Donnie was trying to decide whether to stand his ground or make a run for it – it was fight or flight time. He decided to try to communicate one more time. "My name is Donald McGregor, I really am lost. Can you help at all?" The highlander's expression softened a little, but he still held the Claymore out in front of himself. "Se do Gregorach?" {You are a McGregor?) At last the fierce-looking man had said something that Donnie thought he understood. His research had told him what 'Gregorach' meant and he latched onto the word. "McGregor, yes, my name is McGregor," he shouted. The highlander slowed his approach and was now looking at Donnie with curiosity. Donnie didn't realise it, but the clothes he was wearing were like nothing the highlander had ever seen before. He was clearly still highly suspicious, but the use of the name McGregor seemed to at least have calmed him down a little. The time for flight had probably passed now, as the tartan-clad figure was almost within a sword-length. Donnie took some comfort from the fact that he didn't show any immediate signs of using the huge two-handed blade. He stood perfectly still as the man walked around him, clearly fascinated by something. "So much for the goddess saying there would be little danger," Donnie thought wryly. A push in his back almost made Donnie fall over and he guessed the highlander was indicating he should climb up to where the man had first appeared. Donnie thought he had little choice; the man did after all still have the sword in his hands. He toyed with the idea of trying to use the climb to his advantage. Surely the highlander would have to put away the sword to free his hands in order to climb? As he, Donnie, was climbing in front, maybe he could jump the man from above? "Or perhaps I should wait and see where he's taking me?" The rain made conditions slippy and it took all of Donnie's concentration to save himself from unintentionally falling on top of the highlander. Although it was only the work of five minutes or so to reach the vantage point, they clearly weren't finished. The highlander nudged Donnie again and he could just make out a path snaking between some rocks. Negotiating a bend in the path, Donnie saw that this was actually a well-concealed side glen and he wondered how far the highlander wanted him to walk. After what seemed like several miles they entered a wood and Donnie was glad of the respite from the teeming rain. A few miles further into the woods, Donnie thought he could smell smoke from a fire somewhere close at hand. The highlander tapped him on his left side with the Claymore, which was now back in his hands. When Donnie turned, a nod from his captor indicated that he should leave the path and head into the trees. The undergrowth was thick and it was something of a struggle to get through it. The highlander urged him on however, and at last they reached a clearing. Donnie could see that there were perhaps fifty or more of the filthy, tartan-clad warriors lying just under the canopy out of the rain. All eyes were suddenly on the youngster and he felt more uncomfortable than ever. He just couldn't comprehend what these people were doing out here and why they were all so dirty. Donnie didn't fail to notice that all of the men seemed to be armed with swords of one description or another. Some type of meat was being roasted over an open fire. His would-be captor pushed past Donnie and made his way over to another man who was lying down, covered over by what looked like a tartan blanket. The highlander bowed to this man and then knelt and seemed to have a whispered conversation. "I guess that marks that guy as a leader of some sort?" Donnie thought to himself, his concern not completely clouding his thinking. The highlander returned and pushed Donnie over in the direction of this second man. Donnie could feel the other highlander's following his progress. Now that he was fully into the clearing, Donnie could also smell something rank in the air, something that just smelled 'unhealthy'. Donnie's suspicions were confirmed when he stopped and looked down at the man lying on the ground. It was obvious that, under the grime, the man's skin was deathly pale. With some effort the man sat up and immediately was wracked with a coughing fit. "Why isn't this man in a hospital? He looks seriously ill," Donnie thought. Once the coughing had passed, the man took a moment to look Donnie up and down before speaking. "Se do Gregorach?" {You are a McGregor?) Donnie could tell from the inflection that this was a question and he also caught the word 'Gregorach' once more. He guessed his captor had shared their earlier exchanges and now this man was asking him to confirm his name. "Yes, my name is McGregor. I am Donald McGregor," he replied, sticking his chin out defiantly. The man's response was not what Donnie was expecting. He seemed to curse and his eyes opened wide with surprise. "You are a Sassenach?" he asked, his English heavily accented, but understandable all the same. Donnie at least knew what the word 'Sassenach' meant, although he was surprised to hear the man use it. 'Sassenach' was Gaelic for lowlander and was used disparagingly. "If you mean am I a lowlander, then no. My home is near Callander in Perth. I wouldn't consider that the lowlands," Donnie replied. "Calasraid? Sorry, you're from Callander? You appear to have wandered far from home," the man suggested. "Since I have no idea where we are, I cannot comment on that, Sir. Perhaps you would introduce yourself, as you have me at a disadvantage," said Donnie. The sickly looking man managed to bark out a laugh before lying back down to rest himself. "You certainly have spirit, I'll give you that. My name is Alasdair McGregor. Pleased to make your acquaintance I'm sure. Come sit by me so that we can talk more comfortably, err ... cousin." There was a log pulled up to the fire that was keeping Alasdair McGregor warm and Donnie walked to it and sat down. Nothing was said for a few minutes as Alasdair seemed to try and gather his strength. Now that Donnie was sitting down, Alasdair was able to meet his eyes without propping himself up and that seemed to be a blessed relief. "Shouldn't you be in a hospital?" Donnie asked. Alasdair's only response was to look at him quizzically, as if he didn't understand the question. "Okay, perhaps that's none of my business, but where are we and what are you all doing out here?" Donnie tried next. Again Alasdair chose not to answer Donnie's question, but instead asked one of his own. "You speak like a Sassenach, yet you dare to use the name McGregor. Either you are a brave man or a fool. Which is it?" Donnie responded instinctively. He was extremely proud of his name – more so since he had read some of the clan's history. He would never forget the clan motto that his research had taught him. Now, he snapped back a reply at the reclining figure. "Why should I not use my given name? Didn't you just tell me that your name was also McGregor – if so then you should know 'S Rioghal Mo Dhream (Royal is my race)!" Donnie was astonished at the reaction his outburst caused. All around the clearing men leapt to their feet and swords were drawn. "Caisg!" shouted Alasdair. (Stop!) The men seemed to relax a little at Alasdair's command, but looking at those closest to him, Donnie could see that there was a burning fire in their eyes. "Dia (God)! Spoken like a true Clann a' Ched (child of the mist)! I believe that you are a McGregor!" Alasdair exclaimed. "But I must caution you about using that slogan. You saw how my men react to it. There is a time and a place for its use and now is not that time." "Your men?" Donnie asked, still a little unnerved by the reaction he had caused. "Aye, my men. I am Alasdair McGregor. McGregor of Glen Strae, Chief of the McGregors. The King has outlawed our name and stripped McGregor of his lands, but we try and fight on against the accursed Campbells." This latest piece of information had young Donnie's head reeling. He was extremely bright and his powers of recall were excellent. The name of McGregor of Glen Strae was one he recognised, as it had been included in the research he had undertaken. The only problem was that it referred to a leader of the McGregors in the early 1600s! The reference to the King outlawing the McGregor name was also a clue. For one, the country currently had a Queen, not a King and for two, the McGregor name had been outlawed hundreds of years ago. "My Lord, forgive me for not recognising your station as the Chief of our clan. When did the King outlaw our name?" Donnie asked. "Barely six months ago. April in the year of our Lord sixteen hundred and three. As for the 'Lord', I have long since dispensed with the need for that. When you are an outlaw and on the run there is no rank," Alasdair replied. Donnie was struggling to take it all in. As can happen when the mind is overloaded, he asked a completely unrelated question. "You said 'Clann a' Ched'. What does it mean?" "Forgive me. I forget that you do not speak Gaelic. It means 'child of the mist'. That's what we McGregors have become, children of the mist. Without lands to sustain us, we come out of the mists to steal cattle and poach deer to survive." "Goddess what have you done to me? What do you expect of me here?" Donnie thought. As if to answer his question, Alasdair spoke again. "I say we try to fight on, but this is all that is left to me. Clan Chief I may be, but what you see here in this glade IS clan McGregor. Some carry wounds and almost all of us have been struck down by some sickness. I'm afraid that clan McGregor does not have long left, my young Gregorach. You come too late to bolster our strength, brave though you seem to be." Donnie concentrated hard and tried to dredge up everything he had read about the McGregors when he had undertaken his research. He seemed to recall something about the murder of the Royal forester and how Alasdair McGregor had been held accountable as the clan Chief. There was also something about this Chieftain being betrayed and hanged at the Mercat Cross in Edinburgh. Was this why Beira had transported him back in time? Was he to try to save Alasdair McGregor for some reason? He decided to test his knowledge. After all, Wikipedia could well be full of nonsense. "My Lord, are you being hunted for the murder of the King's forester?" he asked. Alasdair's eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion. After a few moments he spoke, but now his voice had taken on a menacing tone. "I find it strange that you know no Gaelic, don't even know where you are, yet you are aware of the death of that fool Drummond," he snapped. Donnie could feel his situation deteriorating rapidly and used his quick wits to try and turn things around. "My Lord, please humour me for a moment. We must speak in private. What I have to say is for your ears alone," Donnie said. Alasdair took his measure and then flicked his eyes to the highlander who had first captured Donnie. Donnie was dragged to his feet and searched, his pocket-knife and the few coins he had in his pocket were confiscated and handed over to Alasdair. The Chief of the McGregors turned the pocket-knife over in his hands as he studied it for a few moments and then looked at the coinage. He cursed and then studied Donnie again before seemingly coming to a decision. With a nod he dismissed the men who sat close by, leaving only Donnie and himself to continue their discussion. "Oh goddess! Where to start? How do I make him believe my story?" Donnie thought worriedly. "I am waiting Dòmhnall McGregor, if that is indeed your name?" prompted Alasdair. Donnie had a spark of inspiration. He tore his shirt over his head and turned side-on so that Alasdair could see the brand on his shoulder. "I serve the goddess," Donnie began. He got no further as Alasdair's eyes opened wide in fear and surprise. "Dia!" he exclaimed. Donnie tried to continue. "This will probably be as hard for you to believe as it has been for me to find you and your men here today. You see, I was born in the year nineteen hundred and ninety four. The goddess has apparently sent me back in time to do something for her, but she never explains what I'm to do. History in my time records the death of the King's forester, John Drummond – I read about it." His clan Chief was shaking his head in wonder. "The clothes, this knife, the fact you can't speak Gaelic ... and especially the coins..." "You believe me?" Donnie gasped. "You carry the mark of Beira, the Cailleach. You also carry the name McGregor openly and with pride when few would do so these days. It is an incredible story, but the dates on these coins suggest that you are telling the truth. Yes, my young Gregorach, I think I do believe you. The goddess could have saved you the trouble though; I have already negotiated a treaty with the Campbells. They have guaranteed me safe passage to the border so that I might go to London and seek clemency from Kings Seamus (James)." Donnie spluttered before he was able to reply. "That's it! You are betrayed. The Campbells give you safe passage to the Border, but they have arranged for soldiers to arrest you once you cross into England!" Alasdair's skin had already been pale owing to sickness, but now it drained of all colour as he digested Donnie's words. "Betrayed? What happens to me? What happens to the McGregors? Clearly we survive or you would not be carrying the name," Alasdair asked, his voice betraying how weak he was. Donnie steeled himself and met the other's gaze as levelly as he could. "You are hanged at the Mercat cross in Edinburgh and the clan is scattered, hunted like dogs for many years," he answered. Alasdair's entire body seemed to deflate and he drew in a ragged breath. The remainder of the McGregor men around the clearing were watching closely and growing increasingly anxious. Despite not being able to hear the exchange, they could see the effect of Donnie's words on their Chief and that was enough to have them on edge. After another few rasping breaths, Alasdair again met Donnie's eyes. "Perhaps I will cheat the Campbell in any event. I don't think I've got much longer," he managed to get out. "No! You are my Chief – remember, Royal is my Race!" Donnie blurted out and he fell from the log to land beside the dying man. He reached forward and placed one hand on each of Alasdair's shoulders. "Perhaps we can go one better than merely cheating the Campbells," he said. Reaching deep within himself Donnie summoned up his healing gift and immediately let the waves of comforting power pulse down his arms and out of his finger-tips. The pair continued to hold each other's gaze and Donnie was able to virtually see the life flowing back into the older man. The other clansmen if anything became yet more agitated, but they held their distance for the moment. "What miracle is this?" Alasdair whispered. "Consider it a gift from the goddess," Donnie answered him with a smile. After a minute of the comforting waves, Donnie had still not been able to pin-point what was actually wrong with his Chieftain. He came to the conclusion that Alasdair was suffering from the cumulative effects of constantly being on the run and general privation. The man was simply dying from exhaustion. Donnie had an idea and connected with his original 'gift' and began to bleed some strength into Alasdair in addition to the healing powers. The response was immediate and it only took another ten minutes or so before Donnie sensed that his work was done. He sat back on his haunches and smiled at Alasdair McGregor of Glen Strae, Chief of the McGregors. Alasdair experimented by sitting up and lifting his arms. When he found that there was no pain and no exhaustion, he leapt to his feet and pulled Donnie up to join him. "Thank you for this miracle, you have served the Gregorach well this day," Alasdair grinned. He stooped to lift another of the mighty Claymore swords and turned to face his men. "'S Rioghal Mo Dhream!" he cried, swinging the sword violently over his head. The impact on the others was remarkable. The wounded and the sick somehow managed to find the energy to raise their own swords and return the cry. "If you speak to them, perhaps they will let me heal them too," Donnie suggested, the excitement of the moment feeding his own enthusiasm. "I will hold you to that Dòmhnall McGregor, servant of the goddess! And here is a reward for the service you have given," said the rejuvenated Alasdair. He pulled a signet ring bearing a red stone from his finger and shoved it into Donnie's hand. "How long will it take you?" Alasdair asked, suddenly all business. With so many to attend to, Donnie had to stay the night with his fellow Gregorach and it was well into the afternoon of the following day before all the men had been healed. Covered only by a rough tartan plaid, Donnie shivered for most of the night and didn't get much sleep. He 'laid hands' on each of the McGregors until all of them were as fit as they could be and he was exhausted from the effort. Despite (or possibly because of) feeling so well, the clansmen kept away from Donnie as much as possible and gave him strange looks. "It seems that they fear the power that I am able to tap into," he suggested wearily to Alasdair. "They are superstitious and fear anything that they don't understand. They are thankful to now be in good health at least! Now my young friend, what will become of you?" Alasdair asked. "Well if I'm right and I've achieved all that Beira wanted me to, I guess she'll return me to my own time," Donnie answered. "I would wish that you could remain with me, but even I, McGregor, would not challenge the goddess' plans. Perhaps it would be better if they didn't see how you return home," said Alasdair, gesturing to the clansmen with his head. "Yes, I can see the wisdom of that," Donnie laughed. "I'll make my way back to the path through the wood. If you can make sure they all stay here, then they shouldn't know where I came from or where I've gone." Alasdair stepped forward and clasped Donnie's arm in a warrior's grip. "Thank you again, my friend. You truly are a gift from the goddess and I will try not to squander that gift. 'S Rioghal Mo Dhream," he said, this time quietly. "Royal is my Race," Donnie replied and then turned to take his leave. Without a backward glance, Donnie strode off into the trees and struggled through the underbrush until he reached the path. He turned in the direction he thought he had come, but before he could take another step, the feeling of vertigo enveloped him again and he woke up lying in front of the gate to the field of wheat. The goddess was standing in the exact same spot she had been in when he had been transported back, still wearing a smile on her wizened old face. Rory barked and began licking his face. "You have done well, Dòmhnall and now you truly are of the Gregorach." Without another word she was gone and Donnie was left with the memory of another incredible experience. He opened his hand and saw the signet ring that Alasdair had given him. Holding it up, he saw that it had the words Triogal Ma Dh'ream/Een dhn bait spair nocht (I am of royal descent/Slay and spare not) engraved on the inside of the band. Donnie was still inexperienced in dealing with the gods and goddesses. He had shown himself to be frustrated that neither Beira, Sironaidh nor Epona had fully explained what was required of him, but he was yet to really explore this. Neither was the young McGregor an authority on time travel. After his latest service for Beira, if he had checked his previous research, he would have found that nothing had changed with regard to Alasdair McGregor. History continued to show that he had been betrayed by the Campbells and had hanged at the Mercat Cross. Donnie's assumption as to why he had been thrown back in time was once again wide of the mark. But he didn't know that ... yet. ------- Chapter 6 The ring that Alasdair McGregor had given him wasn't Donnie's only legacy from the trip back in time to 1603. As he had connected to his 'gifts' in order to heal Alasdair and the Gregorach, Donnie had sensed the presence of yet another 'power'. His recollection of the visit from Epona was coloured by the extreme sexual satisfaction she had given him. Donnie believed that it had been the sheer power of his orgasm that had made him black-out that wonderful night, but now he suspected that Epona had done something else. "I seem to have acquired another 'gift and I don't remember feeling Epona giving it to me. The only thing that makes sense is that she must have passed me the gift at exactly the point she made me cum. If I'm honest with myself, the world outside my bedroom could have come to a halt at that moment and I wouldn't have noticed," he thought. Donnie was well versed by now in being able to link with his 'gifts', but even so he approached this new sensation cautiously. He tried to dredge up everything he could remember of his conversation with Epona, but much of it was dimmed owing to the fact that he had been a little distracted at the time. He linked first with his original gift, the one that he drew strength and confidence from – he thought of this as Tailtui's gift. Once he felt that reassuring connection he tentatively 'reached out' to the as yet unexplored sensation. From the very first 'touch' the word that Donnie would use to describe the new gift was masculine. It was difficult to describe in everyday words, but the connection just sent wave after wave of maleness. "Is there even such a word as 'maleness'?" he asked himself. "How else would I describe this? It's weird. It just feels like the essence of 'being a man' or something. It's not – caveman or macho per se – it's a feeling of assuredness, of being in control or something. I don't know ... a feeling of being self-aware and comfortable in my own skin. No, even that doesn't really sum it up. It's more 'I'm a man and I'll take care of you'." Eventually Donnie gave up trying to put the feeling into words, it was just too difficult. All he knew was that it was a good feeling, one that he was perfectly at home with. "Now what else did Epona tell me?" Donnie could dimly recall that the goddess had told him that he would be more confident around girls and that he was not to abuse his new power. "Well, seeing as I have no idea what this new 'power' is, I don't see how I could abuse it," he laughed inwardly. "Didn't she say something like I would 'know when it was the right time to use it'? Ah well, let's hope she was right." ------- The next big event in Donnie's life took place in the week following his trip back in time. He had signed-up so that he could check his exam results online. He had done so for two reasons: Getting the results online meant he would get them earlier; and If he just relied on them coming by post, he would be a nervous wreck opening the envelope with his parents looking over his shoulder. This way he would be able to privately check how he had done by going online and then handle the whole envelope thing with his parents without the nerves. The website of the Scottish Qualification Authority (SQA) was easy to navigate and he used the password he had been given to access his awards. When the screen blinked and then displayed his results, Donnie's jaw dropped and he rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. "Goddess! Straight '1s'. Every single subject a 1! Eight beautiful 1s, it doesn't get any better than that. Shit, mom and dad are going to go nuts. Hell, I'm going to go nuts!" Jumping up from his computer, Donnie danced a jig round his bedroom. Rory eyed his antics for a second and then decided his young master was being silly and he simply rested his head on his paws once more and closed his eyes. The envelope containing his results arrived two days later and Donnie's guess as to his parents reaction was if anything an underestimate. His father didn't say very much – but then he always was a man of few words – but he beamed with pride and patted Donnie manfully on the back. His mother was not so reserved. When Mairi saw the certificate she screamed with delight and hugged her son tightly. "That's fantastic, Donnie. I know you worked really hard so it's well deserved. We're very proud of you, both of us," she managed to get out before she started crying tears of happiness. Caught up in his mother's reaction, Donnie hadn't spotted his father leaving the room. He was surprised therefore when he turned to say something to him and found that Douglas had vanished. "Where did dad go?" he asked, turning back to his mother. Mairi managed to dry her eyes and if anything, her smile got even bigger. Donnie suspected that his parents were up to something. He caught some movement out of the corner of his eye and his dad re-entered the room holding what looked like an envelope. "What? What is it?" Donnie asked. "We were planning on giving you something whether you passed all of your exams or not," his father started. "Just like your mom says, we know how hard you worked for these results so we wanted to reward you in some way. There's still three weeks before school goes back and we thought you might like this." Douglas held out the envelope. When Donnie took it, he realised that it wasn't an envelope at all, rather it was a thin cardboard folder. He flicked it open and saw that it contained documents and tickets for a holiday in the United States. His eyes darted from his father to his mother and back again. "You shouldn't have," he stammered. "Nonsense! It's thoroughly deserved," his mother replied firmly. "But what about the farm? Who's going to help get the harvest in?" Donnie asked. "How long have you lived on this farm?" his father countered. "Kieran can help and in any event, the readings you took on the grain the other day suggest we won't be harvesting until after you get back. You go and enjoy yourself for a few weeks." Donnie shook his head and then looked down at the folder once more. "Mom, dad, I don't want to appear ungrateful, but I really don't want to accept this. America would be great, but there's too much to do here at home and anyway, I couldn't leave Rory for two weeks." The reaction from his parents was mixed. Donnie could see that his mother looked almost relieved that he was so determined not to make the trip. His father on the other hand looked annoyed that he was turning down their gift. For a moment Donnie thought that his father was going to insist that he go on the holiday but then a smile appeared on Douglas' face. "How about I get a refund and use the money to buy you a second-hand car? Would that be better?" Douglas asked. Donnie's face immediately pulled into a smile to match his father's. While he had been driving around the farm (and even illegally through the village of Kilmahog) for years, he wouldn't actually be old enough to get his driver's license for another few weeks. Being out in the sticks meant that he seldom saw any of his friends other than at school or perhaps at the rugby club when the team trained or played. Having a car of his own would certainly open up a whole new world of social possibilities. "Would that be okay?" Donnie asked, suddenly fearful that his father might change his mind. "You wouldn't think I was being a spoiled brat for not accepting the holiday?" Douglas laughed. "No, you're probably right. There is going to be a lot to do on the farm and Kieran seems more interested in Eileen MacFarlane than he is in the harvest. Maybe it's time that you got out a wee bit more as well and a car would certainly make that easier. You'll need to apply for a provisional license and to sit a driving test mind. Plus, the way fuel prices are going, you might not thank me for the car when it takes up all of your allowance." ------- Returning to school for his fifth year of Secondary school, Donnie still found it somewhat strange that he had a lighter class-load than he had had the year before. He was down to study for four 'Highers': Maths; English; Chemistry; and Biology. On top of that he was skipping 'Higher' and going straight to 'Advanced Higher' for Physics and Business. To round things off he had elected to sit another standard grade, one that he hadn't taken the year before – politics. His view was that he was only taking seven subjects over the year while he had managed eight the year before. What seemed even more strange was that he had had to fight hard with the school to be allowed to do even these, as his teachers felt that four 'Highers' was going to be tough enough. Eventually Donnie had been called to the headmaster's office where Mr Ogilvie had tried to talk him out of doing seven subjects. "You have to understand, Donnie. Highers call for much more effort than standard grades. Each subject will require you to do far more self-directed personal study to augment what you get in class. The Advanced Highers are more like the kind of level you will get in the first year of University. I think you are biting off more than you can chew." Donnie already knew about the amount of work he would have to do on his own and wasn't fazed by it. He was also aware that the Advanced Highers would actually get him some credit at the University he wanted to go to. That would help him get through his degree a little quicker. Eventually, with the support of his parents, Donnie won the day. The possibility of having a car to get to and from school was an added bonus, as it would save him the best part of one and a half hours waiting for and travelling on public transport every day. That would be extra time that he could use for his studies. On the first morning back at school, Donnie looked around his registration class (homeroom in the US) and for a moment felt sad that so many of his friends had finished school at the end of the previous year. Farming was a big part of life in the area and many of the boys in particular left school as soon as possible to work on the farms full-time. A good number of Donnie's friends were in that category. Now, the faces in his class were of course familiar, as they had all been at the school together for four years already, but he didn't know many of them very well. "Oh well, I suppose I could look at this as a positive thing. Maybe I'll get the chance to make some new friends this year," he thought to himself. ------- There was little time however, over the next few weeks to make new friends. Things were hectic, as Donnie adjusted to his new timetable. There was also the tricky job of picking out and buying a car. That had culminated in his father taking him into Perth where they had haggled over, but finally bought, a four year old Volkswagen Polo. Donnie had already managed to fit in a couple of driving lessons in the new car with a private instructor. His father had insisted on this - to make sure that Donnie hadn't picked up any bad habits as he had learned to drive on the farm. Donnie laughed as he remembered the look on the instructor's face when he demonstrated how well he could drive. The man had taken a look at the now sixteen year old and assumed that he was a novice. That quickly changed, even after the instructor had Donnie drive into Perth itself to see whether he could handle the car in heavy traffic. "I think you should think about booking yourself in for a driving test," the instructor told him after their first lesson together. "There's not much I can teach you to be honest." Donnie laughed. "I've already done that, the test is next week." The driving test took place in Perth and Donnie used his little Volkswagen, having already grown comfortable driving it. "Now remember, listen carefully to the examiner's instructions. If you're not clear about anything, ask him to explain," his father advised when they were sitting in the test station carpark. Donnie nodded to show that he understood. He was surprised that he didn't feel nervous about the test, but didn't realise that his subconscious had made light connections with two of his gifts – the one that gave strength/confidence and the gift from Epona that gave him the feeling of being in control. "Are you ready? Nervous?" his father asked. "No, I'm fine actually. I know I'm good enough to pass this. I just have to make sure I don't make any stupid mistakes," Donnie replied. Douglas got out of the car and walked back to a café that he had spotted. He would have a cup of coffee and a bacon roll while he waited for his son to undergo his ordeal at the hands of the DSA (Driving Standards Agency). When he returned to the test centre, he could tell by the broad smile on Donnie's face that his son had passed. Douglas walked up to the window and waited for Donnie to lower the glass. "Well done, son. You're completely legal now and I guess you'll be wanting me to do this." Douglas straightened and then walked to the front of the Polo. He stooped and pulled the red 'L' sign from the bumper and then made his way to the rear of the car and repeated the process for the sign affixed there. When he climbed into the passenger seat, Douglas couldn't resist one tease at Donnie's expense. "It's good that your mother and I now have our own chauffeur. That's bound to come in handy. Now, home James!" ------- Being able to use the car did indeed mean that Donnie had more time for himself. He was able to settle into a routine that allowed him to help on the farm, complete all of his schoolwork and still have some time to think about socialising. Socialising was almost a foreign concept to Donnie, but he was coming to terms with it far easier than he perhaps had any right to expect. He had noticed that the girls at school seemed much more interested in him than they ever had been before, but was at a loss to understand that. He had always been tall for his age and his work on the farm, combined with his training for and playing rugby, meant that he was solidly built. His blues eyes and soft sandy brown hair, on top of his athletic build, ought to have put him in the 'good catch' category as far as boyfriends went. That was undermined though by the fact that he had always been painfully shy around girls. His shyness, allied to the fact that he lived out in the sticks, ensured that none of the girls had actually spent any time with Donnie. They therefore had no idea what his personality was like and personality was very important to teenage girls when it came to boyfriends. Now girls seemed to go out of their way to engage him in conversation – some even flirted with him and he couldn't put his finger on why things had changed. What Donnie didn't realise was that Epona's gift had changed him in subtle ways. He was more self-assured and there was an aura of confidence about him. In any group situation at school – whether carrying out schoolwork or simply talking in the lunchroom – Donnie now naturally assumed a leadership role. Epona's gift had really brought him out of his shell, but he hadn't quite grasped that yet. He might not have been able to identify what had changed, but Donnie certainly wasn't complaining about the attention he was receiving from the girls. Even Heather MacAuley was giving him looks. Donnie had resisted approaching Heather – mindful of something that Epona had said to him. His new-found assuredness mean that he wasn't totally obsessed with Heather any more, but she was still a very pretty girl. The more overt the she became in letting him know that she was interested, the more difficult it became to ignore. Things changed one Thursday over lunch. Donnie was already at a table, discussing the forthcoming elections for the pupil council with Ronnie Baird and Christine Hagan, two students in his politics class. "I still think you should put your name forward, you'd be a natural," argued Christine. "I don't have time for that nonsense," Donnie replied. "The management of the school don't listen to a thing the pupil council say. What's the point? Believe me, it's a total waste of time." "Careful there, Donnie. I think you're undermining your own argument," Ronnie chipped in. "What better reason is there for someone like you to join the council? Surely what you're saying is that someone needs to change things? If management are only paying lip service to our views, should we just accept that? You seem to have strong views about what's wrong with the way the school is run. Maybe you should put up or shut up." Donnie looked at his classmate. "Is that how I come across? Have I somehow turned into a loud-mouth?" he asked, concern clearly written on his face. "No! Now you're being too sensitive, that's not what Ronnie meant," said Heather, putting her lunch tray down on their table and taking an empty seat. "We've all heard some of the things you've had to say about what needs changing – you know, the incompetent teachers and the fact that nothing is ever done about them. Or the way certain things are taught differently depending on which subject we're in. What about something as basic as not having lockers? You're not being loud-mouthed at all; you're simply expressing what the rest of us think." Donnie thought about that. There were a small number of teachers who just weren't up to the job – all the students knew who they were and groaned if they happened to have them for a subject - but management never seemed to do anything about it. The second thing that Heather had mentioned was also an issue that bugged him about the way things worked in the school. Graphs were a perfect example. He had to draw graphs in just about every subject he studied. There were graphs in maths, graphs in physics, chemistry, and business. There were lots of graphs in politics! Every teacher seemed to want them to draw graphs, yet every subject seemed to describe how to draw graphs differently. It made absolutely no sense to Donnie. Even something as straight-forward as English was a bug-bear. While English lessons demanded that students learn and follow the rules of grammar – teachers in every other subject seemed to break all of those rules themselves in the course of a lesson. Simple calculations were another example – maths classes taught them how to do maths a certain way, but teachers in physics or chemistry performed calculations using the methods they had been taught in school, methods that were different to how things were done now. The result was that students were confused. The other three at the table watched as Donnie mulled over what Heather had said. Ronnie took the opportunity to re-inforce the point she had made. "Heather's right. I wasn't having a go at you, far from it. I was pointing out that you're always the one who speaks up and says what the rest of us are thinking. You're also much better than the rest of us at getting your point across, of explaining the problem clearly," he said. "I agree," said Christine. That's why I think you should put your name forward for the council. Why don't you use it as a way of practising some of the stuff that we're being taught in politics?" "That's a great idea," Heather gushed, leaning over to put her hand on Donnie's arm to emphasise her support. Donnie remained relaxed, despite the touch. Less than 6 months before he would probably have stiffened in his pants and become a babbling wreck if Heather had physically touched him. Now he was calm and considered. He didn't read too much into the touch, but it was obvious that Heather was making it clear that she liked him. "Maybe I should ask her out," Donnie thought. "After all, Epona didn't say I shouldn't. What she warned against was giving my heart to Heather and that's unlikely given our age. What are the chances of falling in love at sixteen?" Donnie was being unfair, as Heather was almost a year older than he was, but his recollection of Epona's warning was accurate enough. He smiled at Heather and with casual ease changed the subject of the conversation away from himself and onto more neutral territory. After they had finished eating and were heading towards their first class after lunch, Donnie took Heather's elbow and gently steered her off to one side. Heather wasn't in the least bit upset by him being so forward, in fact she flashed him a brilliant smile that reached all the way to her green eyes. "Heather, I was wondering. Would you like to do something this weekend?" he asked. "What? Am I hearing this right? Is the school's number one hunk actually asking me to go out with him?" Donnie laughed, thinking that Heather was teasing. "Surely that's Gary Sommerville, the captain of the football team?" he shot back. "You really believe that, don't you?" Heather asked, giving him a strange look and shaking her head. "You don't know what a prize catch the girls in this school consider you to be. Last year most of them didn't even know you existed, but this year you are the number one pick, believe me." "Yeah, right!" Donnie laughed her off. "Is that your way of saying no and letting me down gently?" "No way, buster! You've asked me and I accept, too late to back out now. Chat with me online later and we can decide what to do. I've got to run; I'm going to be late for class. Catch you later!" Heather leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek and then dashed off down the corridor. She turned to wave just before going round a corner and disappearing out of sight. Donnie carried on towards his own class, a goofy smile playing on his lips. That night Donnie finished several hours of schoolwork, finishing off by reading ahead for the material he knew would be covered in his classes over the next week. He found this was an effective way to work. He read the material ahead of time and by doing so was able to concentrate more fully on what the teachers were saying during the lessons. After each lesson he would work through the material again and then do some further work on the Internet to add breadth and depth to his understanding. Once he was satisfied he had done enough, he checked the time and then opened up the messenger service that he and his friends used. He hadn't ever chatted online to Heather and realised he didn't have her addy in his address book. For that matter he didn't even know what her addy was. He checked to see who was logged-on and recognised most of the names that appeared. There were two however, that he didn't know. One was Dixiechick and incredibly the other was Epona. Donnie clicked to send a message to Epona and then typed in a quick message. Gregorach: Hi Epona, how r u this fine Autumn night? Epona: Good evening Dòmhnall. I'm doing very well thank you. I see that you couldn't keep away from Heather MacAuley. Donnie was stunned. He wasn't sure what he had expected – had assumed that it was a co-incidence that someone was using the addy Epona – but the last thing that had occurred to him was that the goddess would actually be the one who replied. The fact that the formatting of the text was completely different and that the poster knew about Epona and Heather convinced him it was genuinely the goddess. Before he could respond, another window popped up on his screen. This one was from his friend Charlie Morton – username killthecrows. Charlie was one of those who had left school to work on his father's farm and the 'killthecrows' name was inspired by the damage that crows did to the crops. killthecrows: Alright m8? u jst finished swotting? Donnie hit the reply button and typed in his own message. Gregorach: Yeah. u managed 2 get the sh1t off u r boots? This was a standard exchange. Charlie would take a light-hearted swipe at the fact Donnie was still at school and Donnie would suggest that Charlie spent all day stepping in cow dung. While responding to Charlie, Donnie had been thinking about a reply for Epona. He began typing. Gregorach: u didn't say that I shouldn't go out with her Epona: That's right, I didn't and she obviously has it bad for you. A third window popped up on Donnie's screen, this one from the other username he didn't recognise, Dixiechick. Dixiechick: I jst googled Gregorach am I 2 guess that u r Donnie? Another message popped up from Charlie, but Donnie chose to ignore it for the moment so that he could focus on Epona and Dixiechick who he guessed had to be Heather. He replied to Heather first. Gregorach: yes its me. u know where my addy cums frm. Wot about yours? Heather responded to say that she was just taken by the Dixiechicks song – Goodbye Earl – and chose the name based on that. The two teenagers stuck to messaging backwards and forwards to each other for a while thereafter without interruption. They spent around twenty minutes exchanging gossip from school before Heather raised the subject of going out together. Dixiechick: So were u serious about this weekend? If u have changed u r mind I'll never speak to u again :) Donnie laughed and quickly typed a response. Gregorach: no I haven't changed my mind. Wot would u like 2 do? Heather wasn't committing herself to any one activity for their 'date' and after further exchanges back and forth Donnie took charge. Gregorach: fine. I'll decide then. I'll pick u up at 2, wrap up well Moments later a message popped up from Epona. Epona: Oh boy has she got a bad case of lust for you! That girl is wet with a capital 'S'. Donnie was confused. Gregorach: wet with a capital 'S'? Epona: As in 'soaking' or 'sopping' or 'syrupy' or 'secreting'. You get my meaning? Donnie belatedly understood what the goddess was suggesting and despite being alone in his bedroom, his face flushed. Two messages popped up almost simultaneously. Dixiechick: I think I like it when u take charge! Epona: Don't you believe me? Donnie typed a reply. Gregorach: you're the goddess, u should know He realised his mistake when the next message from Heather appeared. Dixiechick: Oh, so now u think I'm a goddess? Its getting better and better. Oooohhhh Epona: Oh, now you've done it! She's touching herself. Donnie didn't have to ask what the goddess meant this time and there was no embarrassment just curiosity on his part. Gregorach: Heather, wot r u doing? There was a delay this time before Heather replied. Dixiechick: Nothing – I'm chatting 2 u Donnie decided to test her honesty a little. Gregorach: turn on ur webcam right now Nothing happened for a few moments and then Heather's face appeared on Donnie's screen. The resolution on his monitor was good enough to see that her face was flushed and Donnie began to believe that Epona was telling him the truth about what she had been doing. Gregorach: r u ok? Dixiechick: yes y? Gregorach: nothing u jst look flushed Dixiechick: oh god u can tell that? Gregorach: yes Dixiechick: I have 2 go. I'll see u in school tmorrow He could see Heather typing away for a few seconds longer and then her image disappeared from his screen and her name disappeared to show she had logged-off. Donnie was about to log-off himself when his screen suddenly displayed the image of another girl. His fingers hovered over his keyboard as he tried to work out what was going on. With a sudden thought, he quickly pressed the necessary keys to perform a 'screen capture'. At that moment a new window popped up with a message. Beira: I wanted you to be able to compare this girl to Heather. This one is the girl you missed out on meeting by turning down your parent's offer of a trip to America. Donnie's head was now spinning. First he had the goddess Epona chatting to him online and now the mother of all gods and goddesses, Beira, had joined in. He studied the girl on his screen. She had red hair that fell in ringlets to just past her shoulders. Her eyes were green, not the same green as Heather's – these were somehow brighter. Her lips were sensuous – full and pouting. They seemed to cry out to be kissed, Donnie thought. The girl looked to be about the same age as himself and there was something about her that seemed to draw him towards the screen. Gregorach: who is she? Beira: I've told you - she is the girl you missed out on meeting. Gregorach: did you have something 2 do with the America thing? Beira: yes, I wanted you to meet this girl, but you're too late now. Donnie saw the entries for both Epona and Beira had disappeared. He knew they were gone and that he wouldn't be able to swap any further messages with them. "Typical! Every time I speak to one of the goddesses I get riddles and no straight answers!" He quickly navigated to the 'my pictures' folder on his PC and brought up the screen-shot of the mystery girl. There was something almost familiar about her, as if he had seen her somewhere before. ------- Chapter 7 Heather lay back on her bed with one arm covering her face, the other by her side and her hand squeezing and releasing the duvet. She was still trying to come to terms with what was going on with Donnie McGregor. "Girl, you have got to get a grip! I can't believe how quickly I turn to mush around him. I've never acted like this before. It's like I'm in heat or something whenever I'm close to him. Even chatting online tonight, what was that about? He takes charge and my panties get wet and I'm rubbing myself. Oh god. He could tell I was doing something. How am I ever going to talk to him tomorrow? I'm so embarrassed." Heather wasn't to know it, but she was being affected by the gift that Epona had given to Donnie. She was normally a very grounded but conservative girl. Donnie's confidence and self-assuredness, the way he was willing to take charge of a situation, combined with his rugged good looks, just added-up to an irresistible package. ------- While Heather arrived at school still worrying about how she would be able to look Donnie in the eye, Christine and Ronnie met up to put their plan into action. "Are you sure that he won't blow up when he finds out?" Ronnie asked. "You don't know Donnie very well if you think that's a possibility," Christine told him. "Donnie is a pussy-cat and when he sees how many people have voted for him he'll feel he has a responsibility to accept. Trust me on this." The two students huddled in a corner of the senior common room as they completed the nomination form for the elections to the pupil council. Christine wrote Donnie's name and his registration class number on the form. She added her own name and class number before she signed the form and slid it and the pen over to Ronnie. Each nomination had to be supported by at least two students from the senior phase. Ronnie completed his details and signed the form. Christine took the completed form, folded it and slipped it into one of her textbooks. "I'll drop it off at the school office on the way to class," she said. "Who else have you spoken to about getting the word round?" "Everyone in the classes I share with Donnie is in on it, how about you?" Ronnie asked. "All of the girls are voting for him. He is the school hunk, as well as being far too clever for his own good. The fact that he's so modest with all that he has going for him is just the icing on the case. Believe me, the female population of this school alone will make sure Donnie wins this thing hands down," chuckled Christine. "But today's the final day to register a vote. How can we be sure that they'll all manage to get their votes in?" asked Ronnie. "Oh don't worry about that. When I say 'all of the girls are voting for him' I mean that the girls have already voted." "But how could they? Donnie's not even been nominated yet!" Ronnie asked, his confusion evident on his face. "There was never any doubt that Donnie would be up for election and the girls knew that. Don't you guys get it yet? We girls run things around here!" Christine laughed once more. ------- Donnie was once again already sitting at a table in the lunchroom when Heather asked if she could join him. "Of course! Seeing as we're going out together tomorrow, it would be a bit strange if I was to say no, wouldn't it?" Donnie laughed. "It's just that I logged-off in a hurry last night," Heather managed to get out. Donnie saw immediately that Heather was worried about his reaction to the night before. He thought he knew just what to say to help her get past that. "Hey, but last night was fun though, wasn't it? I don't know why we've never chatted before. They say that some people are born to be in front of a camera, the lens seems to love them – what is it called again? Aye, photogenic, that's it. I have to say that you look every bit as beautiful on webcam as you do in the flesh." Heather blushed at the outrageous compliment, but couldn't help smiling too. "Oh god, he's doing it to me again! Get a grip, girl!" Donnie decided to just act as if he didn't notice how flushed Heather was in the hope that he would give her time to compose herself. "So, are you wondering what I've got planned for tomorrow then?" he asked. Heather was trying to pull herself together and appreciated Donnie being so cool about things. "He really is a nice guy," she thought to herself and then decided she should try and say something in response to Donnie's question. "You said to wrap up well, so I'm guessing we're going to be outside," she said. "We could be going skating," Donnie suggested, teasing her. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see, you're the one in charge here," Heather replied and shivered a little at her own words. "Yes, I am, aren't I," Donnie grinned. "There is one thing though; I don't have your address. If you don't tell me where to pick you up, this date could be a pretty dismal affair." They both laughed as Heather told him where she lived. Seconds later, Donnie's smile faded a little when he heard a familiar voice in his head. "Dòmhnall, I apologise for my timing, but I have need of your service and I'm afraid it is urgent," said Beira. "What do you want me to do?" Donnie asked. "Find somewhere close by where no one will be able to see you disappear," she told him. Donnie thought quickly. There were student toilets here at the lunchroom and that was undoubtedly the closest place that met Beira's requirements. He would need to explain his departure to Heather though. "Listen, I've got to catch one of my teachers about something, but I'll pick you up at 2 tomorrow. Okay?" he asked. "Sure. Do I need to bring anything? You know, money, food?" Heather enquired. "Nope. It's all taken care of. All you need to bring is you," Donnie answered, standing up and lifting his lunch tray. I'm really looking forward to it and I hope you're not disappointed." Heather was still grinning as he left the table and slid his tray with the dirty plate and cutlery into one of the racks put there for just that purpose. Donnie hurried to the toilets and locked himself into one of the two vacant stalls. "I'm going to be reported missing in my afternoon classes," he warned Beira. "I've got that covered. Now, listen to me closely. I want you to lie down on the floor before I send you where you're going. Whatever you do, don't sit up. You might also want to connect with what you think of as the gift from Tailtui." That was undoubtedly the most information that Beira had ever given Donnie and he knew her instructions had to be important. He lay down as best he could in the cubicle and reached out to connect with all of his gifts. "Am I in danger?" he asked. "I will be watching over you," the goddess replied. Donnie gulped. That didn't sound encouraging. Before he could ask any other questions, he experienced the now familiar vertigo as the goddess transported him to his next challenge. ------- September 2009, Wana, Waziristan, Pakistan/Afghan border The first things that Donnie became aware of were the heat and the sounds of gunfire. He focused on Beira's instructions and remained lying on his back. Above him he could see a rocky hillside. His sense of smell told him that there was something different about the place he now found himself, it didn't smell like home. Carefully turning himself over onto his front, Donnie tried to absorb everything he could see. There was a man lying beside him dressed in khaki coloured robes – they looked middle-eastern in style. The man had a similar coloured keffiyeh or shemagh wrapped around his head. What attracted Donnie's attention most though was the blood leaking from the man's side. He has lost a lot of it if the pool on the ground was anything to go by. They were both behind a rocky outcrop and Donnie could hear bullets hitting the rock and ricocheting off with a zinging noise. Donnie guessed they were part way up a steep hill or mountain. Below, he heard excited shouting in what sounded like Arabic. The human voices mingled with the harsh sound of gunfire. Taking a chance, Donnie raised his head and looked over the protecting outcrop. He looked down several hundred yards onto a grey-brown dusty valley. Immediately below him was a square compound of some kind, its walls matching the colour of the surrounding arid soil. Behind the compound he could see a grove of stunted trees, olives possibly, and beyond that he thought he could make out a dirt road. To his left he saw a figure running downhill chasing a small herd of what looked like goats. The gunfire was coming from around twenty men who were methodically climbing towards him. All of this happened in an instant and Donnie pulled his head back behind the rocks before someone shot it off. "Shit! No wonder the goddess warned me to keep down. These guys mean business. Now what do I do? As always the goddess hasn't given me any clues. Why transport me here at this moment?" Donnie looked at the wounded man again. "Why put me here if not to heal him?" Realising that time was critical; Donnie rolled over beside the man and laid his right hand over the spot where the blood was coming from. The man's body flinched at the touch and he tried to turn, a wicked looking blade arcing towards Donnie's throat. "Shit!" Donnie exclaimed. Instinctively, he threw his right arm up to block the knife and then managed to grab the man's hand with his own left hand. "I'm trying to help you for fuck's sake!" he screamed. He was looking into the Arab's dark eyes and he read confusion there. The force of the man's push towards his throat relaxed and Donnie was able to take the knife from his hand. The Arab looked him up and down, taking in his school uniform and then he closed his eyes for a moment, a spasm of pain wracking his body from the sudden exertion. The Arab's eyes opened again and Donnie was surprised to hear him speak English with a Scottish accent. "Who the fuck are you and how did you get here?" he asked. "Time for that later," Donnie replied. "I need to get you fixed up. There are about twenty guys climbing the hill with guns and I don't think they're looking to invite us to a barbeque." "Look, I'm hit. Get yourself out of here and I'll try and hold them off for as long as I can," the man said through gritted teeth. "Shut up! You don't understand, I think I've been sent to make sure you get out of this alive," Donnie shouted in the man's face. He returned his hand to the wound and sensed that the bullet had entered at the front and passed through without hitting any bones. Donnie had remained connected to all of his gifts and he immediately started sending healing waves down his arm. While he was doing that, he took in the rifle lying on the other side of the 'Arab' and the small radio pack. "This shouldn't take long, I hope not given how close these guys are, but can you tell me what I've got myself into?" he asked. The 'Arab' hesitated a moment, as if thinking how much he could tell, and then explained the situation a little. "The bad guys coming up the hill are Lashkar-e-Taiba, a Pakistani terror group. They've got what they euphemistically call a Madras down there. A Madras is a school, but this one is actually a terror camp, used for training. I've been watching them and sending intelligence back to my superiors." Donnie cold sense and see the man's strength returning as he worked on him. He was sending a mixture of healing and strength down through his fingers in an effort to repair the damage as quickly as possible. Abruptly the man sat up and tore Donnie's hands away from his wound. "Okay, I believe that you can perform miracles. You can finish this later if we get the chance. Right now we need to get ourselves out of this mess. I don't suppose you can shoot?" he asked. "I've hunted deer in the past," Donnie replied. "Hallelujah! Here." The man thrust the rifle into Donnie's hands. "Fire short bursts. No more than three rounds at a time if you can. Don't worry if you don't hit anything, your job is to slow them down while I try and get us some help." Donnie saw that he had picked up a head-set for the radio and assumed he was trying to contact the help he had referred to. He turned away and took a deep breath before raising the rifle. Best not to appear in the same spot as last time," he thought to himself. Crawling to his right, Donnie popped up and sighted over the rifle down the hill. He tried to do as he'd been told and fire off short bursts. The rifle kicked up fiercely and he adjusted his hold to counter that before firing another burst. Donnie was gratified to see that the men coming up the hill were diving for cover. Behind him he heard the 'Arab' talking on the radio, but none of it made any sense to him. He decided it was time to shift positions again and ducked down. "We need to hold them for twenty minutes, that's how long it's going to take help to get here. Give me the gun," the Arab ordered. Donnie handed it over and watched as the man took up a new position and began firing short bursts down the hill. He crawled over beside him and laid his hands over the wound once more. The 'Arab' ducked back behind the outcrop and looked at what Donnie was doing. "I've got no fucking idea how you're doing that, but keep it up. By the way, my name is Archie Roy." Donnie heard the name and associated it with the accent. "You're not an Arab, are you?" he asked. "Hell no! All of this is part of blending in. We try not to get noticed in my line of work. I'm from Dundee," Archie laughed. Archie turned and moved further along the outcropping before raising himself and firing a number of short bursts. Donnie continued to heal the wound until he sensed that it was done. He was just about to remove his hands when he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. Screaming, he dropped his hands and fell to the ground only to have Archie fall on top of him. Pushing the man off, Donnie realised he was uninjured but that the pain he had felt had come from Archie taking another round, this one to his right shoulder. "Shit! Will you stop getting shot!" Donnie groused. "They're too close. We need to put some distance between us or our help is going to be useless," Archie responded. "I'll fix this as we go. Just hold my hand," Donnie ordered. "Are you fucking crazy? You want to run up this hill holding hands? Are you some kind of fruit?" Archie screamed as he hefted the radio and prepared to make a run for it. "Hold my fucking hand! That's an order!" Donnie snarled in reply. Archie blinked and looked at the boy in front of him. For some reason it felt as if the boy was more in charge of the situation than he was, which was just not possible. Was it? "Hand!" Donnie demanded, holding out his own right hand. Archie took Donnie's hand, all the while shaking his head, and then both of them began a crabbing scramble up the hill. They could literally feel the rounds whistling past them and Donnie seemed to understand that they needed to move in a random pattern. As well as sending strength and healing power through his hand, Donnie used the hold to pull and push Archie in an erratic pattern of left and right moves. He allowed Archie to pull them to a stop every twenty yards or so, and that allowed him to fire some bursts back down the hill. "Let go of my hand!" Archie screamed. "No!" Donnie screamed back. "I need to change the fucking magazine! Let go of my hand!" Donnie realised this was important and interrupted his healing to let Archie pull the banana clip from the rifle and shove a fresh one in. Without being asked, the older man grasped Donnie's hand again once the change had been made and they scrabbled onwards and upwards. "What's your name?" Archie gasped as they climbed. "Donnie, Donnie McGregor," Donnie panted. They climbed over the lip of another outcrop and Archie called a halt. "This will do for now. See if you can work your magic on my shoulder while I hold them off." Donnie managed to laugh. "That was the whole point of holding hands. It's healed." Archie bent his elbow and flexed his shoulder, finding that Donnie was telling the truth. "Fucking A! You are something else man..." The rest of what Archie was saying was drowned out by the screaming of jet engines as two F-16s streaked overhead. Archie grabbed the headset and started screaming instructions. Donnie grabbed the rifle and took over firing short bursts down the hill. He saw the jets pull a tight loop and begin a run back towards them. Two objects fell from each F-16 and Donnie thought bombs!. One of the jets was slightly leading the other and Donnie could swear he saw the bombs it had dropped heading directly towards the outcropping he and Archie were hiding behind. "Fuck!" Archie shouted. Donnie glanced at him and saw that he too was watching the descending ordnance. He turned back, just in time to see an old woman surrounded by an aura of gold fly through the air and flick the falling bombs so they dropped on the crouching terrorists. Beira turned and waved at Donnie before she disappeared again. The shock from four explosions made the ground under Donnie feel as if it was jumping. Eventually his hearing returned and he heard Archie screaming. "What the hell just happened? What did you do? Those bombs were heading right for us!" "I didn't do a thing. Sometimes the gods and goddesses are on our side. Consider this one of those times," Donnie answered. "The gods and goddesses? Look at you. We're in one of the most remote and dangerous regions in the world. The concentration of terrorists is higher here than anywhere else. "You show up dressed in school uniform. You're what, sixteen? "You've somehow healed two gunshot wounds and kept your cool under heavy fire. Don't tell me you had nothing to do with changing the flight of those bombs!" "Archie, you're alive. I think that's why I was sent." The F-16s returned and heavy calibre guns began tearing into the slope below them. "Come on, we need to use this chance to get on the other side of the hill," Archie urged. Donnie followed Archie as he raced up the hill as fast as he could go. When they reached the summit, they saw a Lynx helicopter hovering on the down slope as if waiting for them. "I think this is where we part company," said Donnie. "What the fuck do you mean?" Archie demanded. Donnie pulled him down so they couldn't be seen from the Lynx. "Archie, I didn't need a helicopter to get here and I don't think I'll need one to get home now that I've done my job. Get yourself down there." "Wait! You said your name was Donnie McGregor. How do I find you?" Archie asked. "Craig Bheithe Farm. We're in the phone book," Donnie replied. "We've fought together. That makes us comrades in arms. You look after yourself Donnie McGregor," Archie said, the raw emotion thick in his tone. "I think I'm safer than you are, so right back at you," Donnie laughed. Archie was just about to say something else when Donnie felt the familiar vertigo. He blinked and saw that he was back in the school toilets. Before he could even get up, he heard Beira's voice. "Once again you have pleased me, young Gregorach! Enjoy your date with Heather, you've earned it." No time seemed to have passed since Donnie entered the toilets and the only evidence that he had been away was the covering of gray-brown dust on his uniform and the blood from Archie's wounds on his hands. He cleaned up as well as he could and then rushed to his first class after lunch. The afternoon was surreal and for once he wasn't as attentive in class as he usually was. At home on the farm that night, Donnie was watching the TV news when one of the reports made him sit up. The Ministry of Defence have released details of a strike today on a terrorist training camp in Waziristan. They described an air strike that was co-ordinated by members of the SAS on the ground. The terrorist compound, in a town called Wana, is reported as having been completely destroyed. In other news... "Our entire way of life is under threat from these lunatics. What is it that motivates people to strap explosives to their bodies and blow themselves up? Why do they want to kill innocent people they don't even know?" asked his father. Donnie had some difficulty in sleeping that night, with the images of what he had lived through replaying over and over in his head. Finally, he made a light connection with his gifts and that seemed to calm him enough to let sleep overtake him. ------- The experience of the previous afternoon remained with Donnie as he and Rory did their chores around the farm on Saturday morning. As lunchtime approached though, his thoughts began to turn to his date with Heather. He was sure she would enjoy what he had planned, so long as the weather behaved. When his mother suggested lunch, Donnie impulsively asked her to make up a mini picnic. He stowed the bag of food in the trunk of the Polo and left early to pick up Heather. He pulled up in front of her house and walked up to the front door. Before he could ring the bell, the door opened and a frantic Heather began babbling. "You're early! I'm not ready! What are you doing? Oh god, I'm not ready!! Donnie stepped forward and took her in his arms, brining her lips to his in a soft kiss. Heather stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed and her arms went over Donnie's shoulders. Donnie smiled at her when they broke apart. "I know I'm early, I apologise for that. I've heard that it's considered a capital offense to do such a thing to a girl, but I decided I wanted to have lunch with you and took the risk. Have you eaten? Oops, you look stunning by the way." "I'm a mess! How could you? I can't go out like this!" Heather began to squawk again. Once more Donnie pulled her lips to his to quieten her outburst. A man appeared behind Heather and Donnie assumed it was her father. "Oh my, someone has at last found a way of getting my daughter to quieten down. Well done young man, you're off to a good start!" Heather pushed away from Donnie and her shoulders were pulled back. "That's not even funny daddy! He's early and I'm not ready!" "You look absolutely fine to me daughter, don't keep your beau waiting too long. You could also introduce us," Mr MacAuley suggested. Heather huffed and puffed for a few moments longer and Donnie couldn't stop himself from laughing. When she stamped her foot, he knew it was time to stop though and he adopted a much more serious face. "Donnie McGregor, this is my daddy Robert MacAuley. Daddy, this is Donnie McGregor," Heather managed the introductions. "Call me Rob, Donnie. I'm pleased to meet anyone who shows signs of helping me control this girl," Robert MacAuley said, extending his hand towards Donnie. The drama of Donnie arriving early receded and Heather confirmed that she hadn't eaten yet. She had actually been ready for nearly an hour, and that meant that her protestations didn't last too long either. She was wearing a summer dress with a light jacket when they headed for Donnie's car and he raised an eyebrow. "I thought I said wrap up well?" "Well, if you take me somewhere that's too cold, I'll just have to rely on you to keep me warm," she replied with a cheeky grin. The car journey was characterised by good natured banter between the two and Donnie could see that Heather was trying to figure out where they were going. Around half an hour later he pulled into the village of Kenmore and made his way to the beautiful little beach beside the boathouse on Loch Tay. Donnie quickly spread a blanket on the beach and brought out the bag of food his mother had packed. They were sheltered from the wind and the sunshine was pleasant enough, but the view up along the ridge of seven munros towards Beinn Labhair (Ben Lawers) was far more than pleasant, it was magnificent. Heather sat staring at the view, her eyes wide in wonder. "I never knew ... So close to home and I never knew ... Oh Donnie, it's beautiful!" she gushed. Donnie was more than pleased with the reaction he had managed to get. He smiled happily as he sorted through the food his mom had packed. There was cold chicken, crusty bread and plenty of fresh salad with bottles of fresh orange juice to wash everything down with. He was pleased to see that Heather wasn't one of those girls who played with their food, as she wolfed down just as much as he did. Once they were finished, they tidied up and put all of the rubbish back in the bag it had come in then simply lay back to let the food digest a little. It was perhaps an hour later that Donnie sat up and poked Heather in the side. "Okay, time for the next part," he said. "What? You mean you think you can top this?" Heather laughed. "Wait," Donnie responded. They folded the blanket and Donnie tucked it under his arm, but put the bag in the trunk of the Polo. He took Heather's hand and began walking towards the small pier only thirty yards away. He had already paid for the hire of the boat and now led Heather towards it. Donnie had debated with himself. There were numerous options for boat hire, but he had opted for a rowing boat. He was well aware his date wouldn't want to walk around with a sweaty partner, but he was sure he could avoid that so long as he didn't overdo the speed of his rowing. The alternative was a noisy launch and he wanted the more rustic feel of the oars. Helping Heather into the boat, Donnie saw a look of doubt on her face. "Trust me, you are going to enjoy this!" he said. Donnie gave Heather the blanket to wrap round herself then removed his own jacket. He set the oars in the rowlocks before bending his back and sweeping the oars through the water. Heather was rapt, watching the play of Donnie's muscles as he rowed the little boat out onto the broad loch. Neither said anything as they moved northwards towards Beinn Labhair. They were about in the middle of the loch when Donnie started to sing. He had a fine baritone voice and he held a decent tune. When I've done my work of day, And I row my boat away, Doon the waters o' Loch Tay, As the evening light is fading, And I look upon Ben Lawers, Where the after glory glows, And I think on two bright eyes, And the melting mouth below. She's my beauteous nighean ruadh, She's my joy and sorrow too. And although she is untrue, Well I cannot live without her, For my heart's a boat in tow, And I'd give the world to know Why she means to let me go, As I sing horee, horo. Nighean ruadh your lovely hair, Has more glamour I declare Than all the tresses rare, 'Tween Killin and Aberfeldy. Be they lint white, brown or gold, Be they blacker than the sloe, They are worth no more to me, Than the melting flake o' snow. Her eyes are like the gleam, O' the sunlight on the stream, And the song the fairies sing, Seems like songs she sings at milking But my heart is full of woe, For last night she bade me go And the tears begin to flow, As I sing ho-ree, ho-ro. Donnie finished the song and saw that Heather had a tear in her eye. He shipped the oars and made his way carefully to sit beside her. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Nothing. It was beautiful, your voice is good. What song was it?" she asked. "Well, we're in a boat on Loch Tay, so I thought I would sing the Loch Tay Boat Song," he laughed. "The boatman loves her, but she doesn't return his love? Is that the story?" Heather asked. "Pretty much, a wee bit worse. She's cheating on him," Donnie answered. "Oh my! How sad, but how wonderful, The words he uses ... He expresses his love so beautifully." "That he does," Donnie agreed. "There was a bit I didn't understand. It went something like 'she's my beauteous neon rose' – it didn't seem to fit," Heather sighed. "Mmmm, it's actually 'my beauteous nighean ruadh – it's Gaelic for a girl with red hair," Donnie explained. "So you were singing about a red-head?" Heather asked, pouting. Donnie hesitated just for a moment as he remembered the girl that Beira had shown him on his PC, but quickly covered things. "It's not me singing remember, it's the boatman." "It was beautiful," Heather whispered and pulled Donnie into a deep kiss. She knew that she would deny him nothing at that moment. Despite having gone no further than kissing with her previous boyfriends, she knew she would go all the way with this man if that's what he wanted. "Why does the word 'man' suit him so well? He's only sixteen, but he is a man," she thought to herself as she felt Donnie's tongue teasing her lips. Heather was almost disappointed that Donnie did no more than kiss her before retaking his seat and slowly rowing them back to the pier. When they had tied up, he helped her out of the boat and they walked to the car with his arm around her shoulders. Once he had settled her in the passenger seat and taken his own position behind the wheel, Donnie broke the companionable silence. "Do you feel like eating now?" Four hours had passed since the picnic on the beach and Heather realised that she was actually very hungry. Being out in the fresh air had somehow worked up her appetite. "I'm starved," she laughed. "Good! I promise the meal will be good." Donnie headed the car back towards Perth. They were halted at a set of traffic lights just on the edge of Perth and a car pulled up beside them. Donnie glanced across. The car held six teenagers, all male and they were passing a bottle of something between them. The teenager behind the driver's seat began gesticulating at Heather. It was clear what he was getting at, as he held his hand to his mouth and worked it back and forth to give the impression of a blow-job. "Just ignore the idiot, they're drunk," said Donnie. The boy in the car must have said something to the others, because suddenly all of them were leering at Heather and making rude gestures. Heather began to get worried. The idiot behind the wheel of the other car started revving the engine and he pointed at Donnie. The challenge was obvious. Donnie thrust the Polo's gear lever into position, with his foot on the clutch and revved the little car's engine. The noise of the Polo reached the six teenagers in the other car and their reaction showed they were up for the race. "Donnie, I don't think this is a good idea," Heather stammered, her concern obvious. "Relax," said Donnie. "It's all under control." He pressed his foot on the accelerator again to rev the engine and smiled across at the driver of the other car. The teenagers hollered and continued to make sexually explicit gestures. "Donnie! I'm getting scared," said Heather, her voice cracking. "Trust me," Donnie replied, his tone calm and measured. The traffic lights chose that moment to change and the car beside them squealed as the driver engaged the clutch and the wheels spun, burning rubber smoking from the rear. Donnie stamped on the Polo's accelerator and eased up on the clutch to set the little car in violent motion. Heather screwed her eyes tightly shut, but quickly opened them as something didn't feel right. "Aaaaahhhhhh!" she screamed. The teenagers were disappearing rapidly into the distance as Donnie powered the Polo, in reverse gear, backwards at a fast rate. Wrenching the steering wheel, he engaged the handbrake and executed a perfect 180 degree turn. Putting the car into a forward gear, he took an alternative route to the restaurant he had booked for their meal. "Oh god, I was terrified! Don't do that again," Heather squealed. "Macho does not mean mucho!" Donnie snickered. ------- Chapter 8 Donnie made a point of greeting Heather and her parents at Church that Sunday. Rob MacAuley introduced his wife, Isobel, who was an older version of Heather and just as bonny. The adults turned to talk with friends and neighbours, giving the teenagers a few minutes to themselves before they entered the church. "I really enjoyed yesterday," Heather told him. "Loch Tay was stunning and the meal was fantastic. I've told mom and daddy about the restaurant. They've never eaten there, but I think they'll give it a try after my glowing recommendation." "I'm glad you had a good time. I had fun too," Donnie smiled. "Hey, I even found out that you can sing," Heather joked. "So did you enjoy it enough to go out with me again sometime?" Donnie asked. "You goof! Of course I did, now come on, you can sit beside me for the service and hopefully your singing can mask just how bad my voice is." ------- Monday at school brought a shock for Donnie when he heard his name being announced over the tannoy system along with the names of five other students. ... and Donald McGregor. Please report to the Headmaster's office immediately. Donnie's maths lesson was just about to start, but the teacher gestured to him that he should answer the summons. "What's this about? I'm not in any trouble as far as I know," Donnie thought as he made his way to Mr Ogilvie's office. The maths faculty was on the other side of the school from the administrative office and the Headmaster's room, so Donnie found that he was the last to arrive. The Headmaster ushered him into his office and closed the door. Donnie looked around the office and found that there was one vacant seat left in front of the Headmaster's desk. He sat down and took the opportunity of registering who else had been called. Josephine McCallister was there. He knew her from two of his classes. She was a plain looking girl, with shoulder length brown hair and blue eyes. If Donnie remembered correctly, she did well academically. Next to Josephine was Irene Lowson. Irene was an athletic girl and was on most of the girls' teams at the school. Anything from hockey, football through to tennis and athletics – Irene seemed to be above average at most of them. Doug Pavillion and Johnny MacNab were sitting together and already whispering about something. Donnie didn't know either of them well, but again he was aware that they did well in their school results. There was a rumour that the boys were gay, but Donnie tended to avoid getting caught up in the school gossip machine and in any event couldn't care less about their sexual orientation. The final student in the room was a surprise – it was Heather. She gestured to the chair Josephine was sitting in and seemed to be indicating that Donnie should swap with her. He got up and stepped over to the girl. "Um, Jospehine? Would you mind swapping with me so that I can sit beside Heather?" he asked. Josephine shrugged and vacated her chair. Donnie sat, but before he could speak to Heather, Mr Ogilvie called them to order. "Okay ladies and gentlemen. I'm sure that you all know why you've been called here this afternoon so I just want to start by congratulating each of you on being elected by your fellow students." Donnie and Heather shared a look of surprise. Donnie raised an eyebrow questioningly, but Heather just shook her head. He turned to the Headmaster. "Sir, I think there must be some mistake here. My name wasn't even put forward for the elections. Are you sure you haven't got me mixed up with someone else?" he asked. "I wasn't up for election either," Heather added, thus explaining why she looked as puzzled as Donnie. "Mr McGregor and Ms MacAuley, I can assure you both that there has been no mistake. Both of your names were put forward in the proper manner and you received sufficient votes to be elected. In your case, Mr McGregor, you polled the highest number of votes of anyone," Donnie shook his head in disgust and turned to Heather. "Christine and Ronnie! Wait 'til I get my hands on them," he muttered out of the side of his mouth. Mr Ogilvie went on to outline the responsibilities each of them would have as members of the pupil or student council. He handed out a photocopied sheet that listed the duties and gave dates for various meetings that they would need to attend. "And there is an office set aside exclusively for your use. So, you can hold meetings and things like that. You know, discuss what the important issues are that we should be looking at," Mr Ogilvie told them. "I suggest you find your room and get better acquainted with each other – you are after all going to have to work together. You might also think about selecting a leader, but I would leave that for a few weeks yet until you know each other better. "That's all for now except to say that your teachers have been advised that you will not be attending any classes for the rest of this afternoon. Use the time well!" Donnie heard a familiar voice in his head. "Needless to say that they will ask you to be their leader, Dòmhnall. It will be good experience for you, experience that will come in useful later." The six students stood up and looked at each other hesitantly. Donnie sighed. He had not wanted this position, but he could see that his new colleagues on the student council were going to need some help settling in to their new roles. "Come on then, let's do as the Headmaster suggests. I think I know the room he's talking about," said Donnie, opening the door to the office and leading the way out. The room proved to be little more than a broom cupboard. It had no windows and Donnie suspected that the absence of any kind of artificial ventilation probably meant it would be illegal to assign it for people to work in. He decided to keep that to himself. Inside the room was a meeting table surrounded by eight chairs. There was a lockable cabinet that stood about three feet high and sitting on top of that was an electric kettle. "All the comforts of home!" Donnie laughed. The other students filed in and took seats at the table. "I think you're right in your guess about who's behind this," Heather said to Donnie. The others looked at Donnie and Heather. Johnny MacNab spoke up first. "Were you telling the truth about not having put your names forward? He asked. Donnie looked at Heather and let her answer. "We suspect two of the people we sometimes have lunch with put our names forward without telling us. I'm not sure how other people knew though; I mean they would need to know for them to have voted for us." Josephine looked at Donnie before making her first contribution. "Mr Ogilvie said that you had polled the highest number of votes, that means that you should be the one to lead us," she stated in a matter of fact way. "Whoa! Hold on there. I don't think that's the case at all. The Headmaster suggested we wait a little while before selecting a leader. You hardly know me, why would you suggest I should be the leader?" Donnie replied. "We all know that you've got the best academic record of anyone in this room," Irene Lowson remarked. "And you did get the highest number of votes, in my book that gives you a mandate" Doug chipped in. Heather laughed and slapped Donnie on the back. "I think the very fact that you didn't want to be on this council in the first place and now you're so reluctant to take the position of chair are two very good reasons why you're a good choice," she said. The others nodded in agreement. "To make it formal we should take a vote," suggested Doug. "I propose Donnie McGregor as chair of the student council." "I second the motion," Johnny pitched in. "All those in favour?" Doug asked. All five of the other students raised their hands and Donnie sighed, bowing to the inevitable. He walked over to the lockable cupboard and opened one of the doors. Finding some notepads, he turned and asked for a volunteer to become secretary to the council. Heather put her hand up and the others accepted her self-nomination. "Okay, we need to minute our meetings. Perhaps we should start by recording the formal vote to select me as chair?" Donnie suggested, receiving nods of agreement from the others. "Then we need to discuss these duties and meetings," suggested Johnny, holding up the sheet the Headmaster had given them. "Can I ask a question first?" said Donnie. The others looked at him, Heather with a little smile as if she had an idea of what was coming. "Let's be absolutely honest with each other inside this room. Agreed?" Donnie looked each of them in the eye in turn and they nodded. "What difference has the student council made to this school? Can any of you give me one example of something that has changed for the better because of the intervention of the student council?" Donnie asked. Heather, Doug, Josephine, Irene and Johnny looked at each other, but no one was able to think of an example. "Take a few minutes to read the sheet Mr Ogilvie has given us. Think about the role that's described there. Consider the meetings we're expected to attend. As you're thinking about all of that, think also about how the role as described will allow you to be the first student council to make a difference." Donnie let them read and think. He wondered how long it would take them to grasp the reality of the role of the student council. Irene was the first to break the silence. "I don't get it. The duties kind of look – what's the word I'm looking for – superficial! Yeah, that's it, they look superficial. It's like we're token members of a few groups, but mainly it's about talking to students. I don't see where the opportunities are to represent the views of those students on any forum where it would count for anything." Donnie said nothing, instead letting the others consider what Irene had said. They were scanning their sheets, reading them now with Irene's remarks very much in mind. "Irene's spot on," Josephine remarked next. "It's no wonder we can't think of any examples, Donnie. The council is set up for show! It's almost as if the school doesn't want us involved in anything really important." "What are we going to do about it?" Heather asked. "Each of us needs to think about this carefully," Donnie interjected. "Do we really want to do anything about it?" "What do you mean?" asked Doug. "Don't you think the council is set up this way on purpose? What do you think the reaction will be if we try and change things so that we have more influence?" Donnie asked. "But we need to do something about this!" said Johnny. "I didn't put my name forward for election just to find I can't actually do a thing to make things better!" The others were quick to agree with that sentiment. "So what are you planning to do?" Heather asked Donnie. "Me?" "Yes, you. Don't tell me that you don't have a plan in mind?" she asked. "This isn't about me," Donnie replied, quietly. "This is about our school, our fellow students and whether the management and the teaching staff are interested in listening to our views about how things can be improved." "I still think you've got a plan," Heather replied. "No, but I do have some ideas. I've got little doubt that all of you in this room have got ideas too," Donnie suggested. That seemed to be the right approach. Instead of taking over, Donnie was stressing the need for each member of the council to be heard, to make a contribution. The others appreciated his style and responded positively to it. "Okay, I can buy that, but what's your first idea?" Doug asked. Donnie paused for a few seconds thus ensuring they were all waiting for his next contribution and were focused. "Political parties develop a manifesto that they take to the electorate before an election takes place. The manifesto sets out their policies, what they see as their priorities and what they will do if elected. Now, we've already been elected, but it seems that we all think people voted for us because they thought we would make a difference. I suggest we do things a little back to front. I propose that we pull together a manifesto that we can all agree to. "The manifesto will make sure that we are all working to the same ends and we can share it with our fellow students to hopefully win their backing and support." His idea seemed to resonate with the others and the increase in energy levels in the room was almost tangible. Everybody wanted to talk at once, each of them with ideas to contribute. "Right then, what are the things that need addressed? What do we think are the highest priority?" Heather asked. Between them they began to draw up a list. Incompetent teachers; Aggressive teachers; The use of temporary teachers and lack of continuity in lessons; Addressing disruptive behaviour from some students; Inconsistency in how things are taught; Lack of student input into teaching methods; Lack of pace in lessons, going too slow; Less able students not supported; Insufficient student 'voice' in decision making; and Poor commitment to being an 'excellent' school. "Wow!" said Donnie when they reviewed their list. "If we can do something to improve the situation on any of those, then I for one will be satisfied!" "It's quite a list, isn't it?" said Irene, sounding proud at their work so far. "Alright! This is what I signed up for!" enthused Doug, turning to give Johnny a high-five. Heather and Josephine grinned at the enthusiasm of the others. Donnie intervened now to try and organise how to take things forward. "Okay, we need to write this up in a way that the students will understand what the priorities are and why we think something needs done about them. That needs to be written in a way that doesn't appear threatening to the school's management – we are not irresponsible revolutionaries. We also need to start working on exactly what we can do to make improvements in these areas. Has anyone ever seen a copy of the school's policies or a list of any groups that might have responsibility for dealing with these issues?" Josephine put her hand up. "My mom works in the office. I could probably get her to copy the policies and the structure of groups that Mr Ogilvie uses to look at key aspects of the school's performance." Donnie sat back and smiled. He hadn't asked to be on the student council, but now that he was, it was good to feel the energy in the group – energy directed at making things better for everyone. ------- The next few months were largely goddess free for Donnie (and Rory!) apart from a few occasions when Beira 'spoke' to him in his head to underline the importance of something. Josephine was true to her word and managed to get her mother to copy the main school policies and 'committee' structure. The student council members used these to draw up an action plan that they hoped would help them improve their school. Donnie and Heather went out on a number of dates, dates that left the blonde somewhat frustrated. Donnie wasn't in any hurry to push the sexual side of their relationship, but every time they were together she ached for him to do more. They had progressed to the point where Donnie was touching and playing with her 34b breasts, but if anything that just made things worse. Heather was getting to the point where she was going to up the ante. Schoolwork was hard but satisfying for Donnie and he maintained his study methods to good effect. After his experience in Pakistan, he found that he was more interested in geo-politics and that meant he watched far more of the news on TV. He became acutely aware of the various terrorist 'hot-spots' around the world and joined his father in growing increasingly concerned about the apparent growth in radical Islamism. Donnie also maintained his interest in and love of all things to do with the health of the Earth. He spent some of his free time extending his understanding of issues to do with global warming, his early Geography lessons having piqued his interest and established a concern about the importance of the 'Global Conveyor Belt'. He discovered that his study of politics in school, his growing awareness of geo-politics and his interest in the apparent dangers to the Earth from global warming all seemed to sit well together and he was trying to figure out why that was the case. The winter of 2009 in Scotland was if anything even worse than that of 2008. At one point the main arterial road in the country – the M8 motorway – was closed for two full days. Commuters were trapped in their vehicles for thirty hours in some cases and snow ploughs couldn't clear and grit the roads because they were blocked with stationary traffic. Once again there was major disruption to the delivery of goods and services, with shortages of fuel and staple foodstuffs becoming more and more common. A source of major public outcry was caused in the run-up to Christmas. More and more families were opting to do their Christmas shopping online, but owing to several weeks of heavy snowfalls, the big companies – Amazon etc – had suspended home deliveries across the whole of Scotland. With deliveries still going ahead in England, the Scots believed they were being treated as second class citizens. They faced the prospect of Christmas presents for countless thousands of children and other family members not being delivered. As a result, there was a sour mood in the country as Christmas approached. The world economic crisis had also been crippling and the bail out of the United Kingdom's banks had cost untold billions of pounds of public money. Everybody knew that cuts in public expenditure were going to have to be made to reduce the huge amount of borrowing the UK government had run up. That was the 'other shoe' that most people were waiting to drop. Donnie had covered scenarios just like these at school so he was well aware that public sector cuts would mean a massive increase in unemployment. Listening to his father, he was also acutely aware of the increasing price of so many necessities – foodstuff for the livestock was going through the roof, fuel costs were rising steeply. At the same time the large supermarket chains were flexing their muscles and squeezing farmers to reduce the price they were willing to pay for produce. "The poor farmer is being attacked from both ends," his father complained. "A shortage of wheat and other grain is driving up prices for animal feed and Tesco and Walmart are screwing us on how much they're willing to pay. We just can't win!" Donnie knew that Craig Bheithe farm was just about self-sufficient and his father's rant was more about showing solidarity with farmers in general, than the McGregor's own actual circumstances. "How can they justify the price of grain?" Douglas McGregor demanded one afternoon. "I think it's down to weather conditions, Dad. According to some of the stuff we've looked at in school, climactic conditions are changing. Some places that normally get plenty of rain are experiencing droughts and other places are having their crops flooded and ruined." Three of his exchanges with Beira during the autumn/winter of 2009 were very important, although Donnie didn't realise just how significant they were at the time. The first conversation took place while Donnie and Heather were Christmas shopping in Perth. They were teasing each other as they walked through the main shopping mall, when Donnie saw a booth set up on the concourse. He was almost to the point of passing the booth when Beira spoke to him. "Dòmhnall, this is important for your future. You need to sign up for this. I need you to do this for me." Donnie paused and actually looked to see what the woman in the booth was selling. To his surprise, he saw that she wasn't selling anything. The booth was set up to try and get people to join one of Scotland's main political parties, the Scottish National Party. "Can we stop for a minute?" he asked Heather. She saw where his attention was and laughed out loud. "Are you going to sign up to help them campaign?" she asked. "I know you're doing politics at school, but I've never actually heard you express a political opinion." "Mom and dad have taught me that the quickest way to get into a fight is to discuss politics or religion," Donnie quipped back. "I do have political leanings though. So do you if the student council is anything to go by!" "Are you going to join?" she asked. "I want to find out a little more about what I'll have to do first. Helping on the farm doesn't leave me much spare time," Donnie answered. Donnie spoke to the woman and asked some searching questions, but he knew it was all a foregone conclusion. He would join the SNP as Beira had requested it of him. Once he had signed up, Heather asked an interesting question. "Do you want me to join too?" Donnie smiled at her. "You join if you want to. Your politics are not for me to decide. Just because I've suddenly become a political activist doesn't mean you have to follow suit." In the end Heather decided not to join and Donnie was fine with that. The second exchange with Beira was around an important decision for Donnie. It was time for the young man to decide what he was going to study at University. All along he had hedged his bets by choosing subjects that would allow him to go on to do medicine or business. His parents were convinced he would opt for medicine, given his obvious affinity with the natural world. Donnie sat down one Sunday afternoon with all of the various prospectuses for the Universities he could possibly go to. His results would gain him entry to Oxford or Cambridge if he kept up his performance to date. Certainly the premier Universities in Scotland would be in the reckoning – Glasgow and Edinburgh. Donnie was genuinely torn as to his choice. "Listen to me, young Gregorach. You have shown yourself astute at science, but why study medicine when you can already do things that no doctor in the world can do? Business will be important to you, but there are other ways to learn what is required there – business is not learned in a lecture room. You need to choose politics, that is the path that brings all of your interests together. You have been trying to figure out why the things that have your attention seem to fit together. The answer is politics, the answer is power and being involved in taking decisions that matter. I'm asking you to apply to go to Stirling University to study politics. Don't disappoint me." Donnie was stunned. He had been focused on choosing between medicine and business for so long that Beira's request really threw him. He pondered what Beira had said and had to agree with her comments about studying medicine. He was less sure about her reasoning on business, but he was growing into his service to the goddess and found himself beginning to get excited at the prospect of studying politics and what that might lead to. Douglas and Mairi were stunned when he told them his choice, but Donnie was able to set out his thinking in a way that demonstrated that this was no impulse decision on his part. "Dad, you're going on and on about the economy and how it doesn't add up. We watch the news every night and hear about world events that are impacting our way of life! Terrorists, the price of oil and the way our planet is being harmed. I want to try and put myself in a position to do something about all of that," Donnie told them. "I've already become a member of the SNP." Eventually his parents accepted his reasoning and told Donnie that he had their full support. Beira told him that she was happy with his continuing service. The final intervention by the goddess that year was one that made Donnie happy in the lead up to Christmas. He was breaking the ice on the water troughs for the sheep when Beira took the opportunity to speak to him. "Dòmhnall, you are going to receive a telephone call today that will make you happy. It's important that you think about all of the reasons for that happiness. It may lead to a significant development that will help in the future." Donnie was growing used to the goddess speaking to him and hardly paused in carrying out his chores. He did notice that Rory barked happily whenever he was around and the goddess made herself known. That night the phone rang and Donnie watched as his mother answered it. "Yes, can I tell him who's calling?" Mairi turned to Donnie and held the phone towards him. "He says his name is Archie Roy and that you know him," she said. Donnie's face lit up. He had no idea who might phone when Beira had told him earlier, but she was right, this did make him happy. He took the phone from his mother and barely concealed his excitement at being able to speak to Archie again. "Archie?" "Did you really think I wouldn't contact you after what you did?" "I wouldn't have given you enough information to do so if I'd thought otherwise! Where are you?" Donnie asked. "I'm on a break, in Glasgow. I'm free until the fifth of January, then I'm back out again. I'd like to see you before I go back." "I think I'd like that. Why don't you come out to the farm?" Donnie asked. "That sounds good, but I need to do something first. That's why I'm in Glasgow. Maybe you could join me?" Donnie looked to his parents. "Archie wants me to meet him in Glasgow. I'll bring him back to the farm to meet you after that, but is it okay to go?" he asked. His parents knew he was a responsible boy and they were happy to let him go to Glasgow. ------- Christmas at Craig Bheithe farm was relatively low key. Presents were exchanged, but Douglas and Mairi were both believers that Christmas had become too commercial. "The big companies try and convince us to spend more money than we have," Douglas said. "They pressurise everybody to go into debt to buy their kids the latest fad. It's ridiculous!" Christmas dinner was quite a big affair though, and the McGregors sat down to a turkey with all the trimmings. This Christmas of 2009, Kieran announced that he had broken up with his latest girlfriend and that he was committing to working on the farm full-time. Donnie rejoiced as that meant that he would probably have more time to himself. He exchanged presents with the family, receiving a new laptop from his parents. After that, he got ready to go out with Heather. Donnie's Christmas present for Heather was a necklace of jade-'like' stones that really matched well with her eyes. She gushed over it while he opened the small pile of books that she had bought him. They had a meal at a nice restaurant and Heather complained that they wouldn't be able to see each other for New Year's Eve. Her frustration at the lack of sexual progress was coming to a head more and more. On the third of January Donnie drove to Perth Railway station and took the train to Glasgow. He got off the train at Queen Street station and spotted Archie waiting for him on the platform, Archie enveloped him in a hug as he passed through the ticket check-point. "It's great to see you, man! C'mon, let's have a beer!" Archie exhorted. Archie dragged him out of the station and over towards a nearby underground station in Buchanan Street. "What's going on?" Donnie asked, recognising that the crowds were all wearing coloured scarves and tops. "Do you mean you don't know it's a Rangers v Celtic game today?" Archie asked, laughing as he did so. They descended to the underground and caught the bright orange train, getting off at Ibrox. They climbed the stairs to street level again and Donnie commented on how quiet the streets looked. "Celtic are at home today, we're going on a supporters' bus that leaves from the Masonic Lodge just round the corner. Here, you'd better wear this." Archie handed Donnie a red, white and blue scarf. The single-decker coach they climbed on was filled with men, women and children all wearing the same colours. When the coach started moving, the occupants began singing songs in support of their team. Though The Streets Be Broad or Narrow It's Follow We Will Follow We Will Follow We Will Though The Streets Be Broad or And Narrow It's Follow We Will We Will Follow In The Footsteps Of Our Team God bless them Follow, Follow We Will Follow Rangers Everywhere Anywhere We Will Follow On Dundee, Hamilton, Aberdeen And Back Again If They Go To Dublin We Will Follow On For there's Not A Team Like The Glasgow Rangers No Not One And There Never Shall Be One Celtic know All About Their Troubles We Will Fight Till The Day Is Done For there's Not A Team Like The Glasgow Rangers No Not One And There Never Shall Be One. The atmosphere was electric and Donnie found himself being caught up in it. The coach eventually stopped and they followed the crowds heading to the football stadium. "Just keep shouting for the boys in blue, the Queen's eleven," Archie encouraged him. Inside the ground, Donnie perceived a palpable hatred between both sets of fans. He could feel the tribal allegiance of the Rangers fans. Heavily outnumbered owing to the ticket allocation, nonetheless the fans in blue sang their hearts out in support if their team. Celtic scored first and the legions of green and white created an incredible noise as their team went ahead. The supporters around him sang even louder though, urging their team to come back in the age old Glasgow derby. Rangers had a corner at the end that Donnie was at and, as the ball was swung in, a Rangers player connected and headed the ball into the net. The euphoria that enveloped Donnie was like nothing else he had ever experienced. People hugged each other, they jumped up and down and they danced! The final whistle blew and the score was 1-1, but Donnie knew he would never be the same again. The atmosphere, the adrenaline, the sheer crowd fever of being behind something and being unwilling to give an inch, had captured him! Instead of re-boarding the bus, Archie dragged him away from the stadium and flagged down a taxi. "We had to go on the bus to get you a ticket," he explained. "Let's get that pint I was talking about. Best take the scarf off now." Back in Queen Street station, they just had enough time for one pint of beer, with Donnie having coke, before the Perth train left. "Thanks for letting me experience that again," said Archie, as he took a long pull on his beer. "I think I should be thanking you as that was an incredible experience," Donnie replied. Archie then jumped in, head first. "Look, I know what you did in Wana is impossible, but you did it. I can't help but want to keep in contact with you. "Since Wana I've had a feeling I need to be close to you, like I should be protecting you or something." "The goddess will decide," Donnie laughed. "She told me you would call and that I needed to think beyond just what we experienced." Archie pondered on that for a moment. "I don't know about goddesses, but those terrorist camps are bad news for the UK. There are plenty of young Pakistani Brits willing to go there and train to do something back here. "I contacted you because I feel you have something to contribute here. Beyond how you saved me, have you thought about joining up to do more?" Donnie looked at him. "I'm only sixteen remember," he said. "You've guessed I'm SAS, don't deny it. Well, let me tell you that there's a territorial army SAS unit in Invergowrie. I think you should sign up," Archie enthused. ------- Chapter 9 "Would you look at this!" Douglas McGregor cursed, waving the bill he had just opened. "What is it dear?" asked his wife, Mairi. "The electricity company are putting their prices up by 34 percent! Can you believe that? How can they possibly justify a hike of that scale? The bastards are already making record profits and yet they can still come out with something like this. They're blaming it on the cost of buying gas! If fuel prices are only rising by 4 percent, how does that translate into cost increases for electricity of 34 percent? Rip off bastards!" Donnie tried to hide his smile. It was unusual for his father to vent so vocally, and he was finding it quite entertaining. "Maybe it's time to put my tree energy into full production, dad. That would certainly cut the bills," he suggested. Douglas McGregor halted his rant and focused on his youngest son with a thoughtful look. "You know, that's not a bad idea. We've already shown it can work. That would show these bastards! They can stick their 34 percent increase right up where the sun doesn't shine!" Over the next few weeks Donnie and his brother Kieran were pressed into service laying the cable that was required to hook the power supply from the trees to the circuit that served the farmhouse. Douglas also called in a friend who was an electrician. He was required for the tricky part of installing a set-up that would allow the supply from the trees and the mains supply to work together. Basically if the trees were supplying energy then that's what the house would use, but if the wind fell and the supply from the trees waned, then the normal supply would kick-in again. The family cheered when Douglas flicked the switch to engage the new power source and Craig Bheithe farmhouse was lit up by tree energy for the first time. "You know, maybe it's time I thought about trying to make some money out of this," Donnie wondered out loud. "I'll bet you could sell the idea to a big company and make quite a bit of cash," his father agreed. "No, I was thinking more of licensing its use and charging a percentage. The risk would be that it doesn't take off, but if it does I would make a lot more than just a one-off sale of the concept," Donnie argued. "What you need is some decent legal advice from a specialist," Douglas suggested. "That's not a bad idea," Donnie agreed. Over the course of the next three weeks Douglas and Donnie travelled to Glasgow for meetings with representatives of a corporate law firm. He shared his copy of the patent for the design of the tree energy system and explained that there was a working version already in use on his father's farm. By the end of his meetings Donnie signed a contract that would authorise the firm to license the new power source on his behalf. The firm would charge an annual fee of course, but it took all of the effort away from Donnie and he thought it would be worth the cost. ------- The first few months of 2010 were busy for young Donnie. As the dates of his Higher and Advanced Higher exams drew near, he threw himself into the same study routine that he had adopted the year before. He had received a conditional offer of a place at Stirling University and knew exactly what results he had to achieve to be accepted for the degree he wanted to study. He had driven to the Territorial Army place in Invergowrie to look into joining up, but even with a personal recommendation from a serving SAS Trooper, he was told that he was too young. "Come back next year if you're still interested," the Sergeant told him. Donnie did take some time off for a special date with Heather. Her seventeenth birthday was coming up and Donnie decided that he would spoil her. On the day (a Friday), he picked her up at her house and then headed for the A9. "Where are we going?" she asked. "It's a surprise," Donnie replied. Heather watched the road signs flash past and realised that they were heading for Glasgow. She had been to the city once before, but she had only been eleven years old and it was a distant memory. Donnie found a parking space on a side street close to the Scottish Television studios. He carefully checked the signs to identify whether there were any restrictions and once satisfied, reversed into a spot and turned off the car's engine. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?" Heather asked yet again. "I told you, it's a surprise," Donnie laughed. Helping Heather out of the car, Donnie took her arm and made for the first stop of the evening. He had booked a restaurant for a light meal and by the time they were finished it was already 20:00. Heather was trying to figure out whether the meal was in fact the big surprise, but when Donnie led the way out of the restaurant and turned in the opposite direction from where the car was parked, she realised that the evening wasn't over yet. Her eyes lit up with excitement when they reached the Pavillion Theatre on Glasgow's Renfield Street. The glitzy advertising screamed out that the show was West Side Story and listed the main 'stars' of the cast. Heather had never heard of the show, but the new experience was enough to get her excited. Donnie had pre-booked the tickets when he had been in Glasgow meeting the corporate lawyers and he handed them over now as they entered the theatre. He bought them some drinks and snacks and then an usher directed them to their seats. When he had decided on the show, Donnie was sure that the gritty love story would appeal to Heather. He kept stealing glances at her throughout the production and saw that he wasn't disappointed. She was totally caught up in the story of Tony and Maria and clearly enjoyed the songs and the choreographed dancing. When Tony was shot by Chino and Maria held the dying boy in her arms, Donnie saw the tears streaming down Heather's face. As the final curtain fell, Heather was out of her seat with the rest of the audience applauding the performance. She was still bubbling over with excitement as they made it back to the car and started the journey back to Perthshire. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! That was the best birthday present ever!" she gushed. "But I haven't given you your present yet," Donnie chuckled. "It was wonderful! Oh poor Maria, to have to hold the one you love while their life slips away. How awful!" "Heather, it was only a show!" Donnie protested. "Don't you dare spoil it all now!" she warned. "You've done okay so far by choosing to take me to a show, quit while you're ahead." Heather recalled moments from the show and tried to sing snatches of some of the songs all the way home. She seemed surprised when Donnie pulled the car to a stop. She looked round and saw that he had parked on Hamilton Lane, a favourite haunt of teenagers who wanted some privacy. Once she realised where they were, Heather stop babbling about the show and opened her door so that she could climb into the back seat. Donnie took the hint and quickly joined her. He put his arms around Heather and they shared a deep, passionate kiss. When they broke apart, he smiled at her. "Happy birthday," he said. Reaching down under the driver's seat, he pulled out a box covered in gift wrap and handed it to her. Heather squealed in delight and carefully picked at the tape so as not to rip the paper (why do women do that?). Inside the paper was a black box and Heather flipped up the lid to find an intricate Celtic broach. "It's beautiful," Heather sighed, lifting the broach and looking at the fine detail of the carving. Donnie leaned in to kiss her again and she responded in full measure. Ten minutes later they had progressed to duelling with their tongues when Heather decided she had waited long enough. She let her left hand drop from Donnie's shoulder and ran it over the hard bulge in his lap. Donnie gasped at the unexpected touch. "Are you sure about this?" he whispered in Heather's ear. "Positive and it is my birthday," Heather moaned in reply. With Heather's intentions perfectly clear, Donnie decided to give her what she wanted. He tried to ignore just how good her hand felt sliding up and down his cock and focused on making her feel pleasure. He had progressed to rubbing Heather's breasts before, but only through her clothes. Now Donnie began unbuttoning her blouse and when it was fully opened, he saw that she was wearing a camisole and no bra. Sliding the silky garment upwards, he let his hand caress the smooth orb that was revealed. Donnie traced her flesh upwards until he felt her hard nipple. He teased it between his thumb and index finger, even pulling on it a little. This was further than he had ever gone, but somehow he seemed to know just how much pressure to apply, what moves to make to get the desired response from Heather. What Donnie wasn't aware of was that the gift given to him by Epona, the gift that had been largely dormant until now, had just woken up and was guiding him. Going on what he thought was instinct; Donnie broke off from kissing Heather and dipped his head to take her nipple into his mouth. He grazed the sensitive flesh lightly with his teeth and felt Heather arch her back to push her breast towards him. Her breathing had become heavier and the hand that had been rubbing Donnie's pants had stopped moving. He guessed that she was enjoying what he was doing to her and had become a wee bit distracted. Pulling her blouse further apart, Donnie moved push her camisole all the way up and then give her right breast the same treatment that he had given her left. Heather let out a long moan. "Oh god ... that feels incredible." He moved between both nubs, teasing them with his fingers and mouth and then let his right hand drop to her thigh. Heather was wearing a skirt that came to just above the knee and Donnie traced down her leg until he reached the hem of the garment. Heather made no move to stop him and he thought it was safe to continue. His guess was confirmed when he felt her legs parting to allow him easier access to his next prize. Heather hadn't worn hose, so Donnie's hand was feeling silky smooth skin as it began to climb towards her centre. He heard her begin to pant, as the anticipation of his touch seemed to heighten her pleasure. The angle became difficult for Donnie's wrist and he let his hand cross to Heather's right leg where he was now able to curl his fingers to encompass all of her inner thigh. Heather groaned again and pulled her legs even further apart. Donnie teased her a little, trailing the backs of his fingers down her left thigh and then he crossed over and glided back up her right. He could feel Heather straining her hips, trying to force contact between his fingers and her mound, but he resisted for the moment. At last he let his middle finger trace a line along the length of where he somehow knew her nether lips were. "Goddess, when Epona said she was wet with a capital 'S', she wasn't kidding." A heady aroma was reaching Donnie's nose and he knew what he wanted to do next. He took his hungry mouth from Heather's perfect little tits and slid sideways off of the back seat. This wedged him on the floor of the car, behind the driver's seat. For someone six feet two, it was uncomfortable to say the least, but Donnie ignored that. From the moment he had sunk lower, Heather had been moaning... "Oh god ... Oh god ... Oh god. Donnie eased Heather's skirt up to her hips, exposing her panties and allowing her to really part her legs. This close, the musky smell made his mouth water and he began to trail butterfly kisses along the inside of her left thigh as he travelled higher. There was just enough light to be able to now see the crease of her sex and Donnie ran the bridge of his nose along it. Heather bucked and let out her loudest moan yet and when Donnie licked where his nose had just swiped, she grabbed his hair and pulled him closer. Donnie gently removed her hands and pulled his head back. "Perhaps this might be better if we removed your panties?" he suggested. Heather managed to lift herself off of the seat and Donnie was able to pull her panties down to her thighs. Once she was sitting again, Heather brought her legs together and raised them, allowing Donnie to remove her underwear completely. When her legs were parted once more, Donnie teased her with soft kisses again before finally using his tongue to swipe upwards, parting her lips. He made sure to take his time, almost worshipping her sex and it was clear from Heather's reaction that he was doing a good job. By now he had a hand on each thigh to give him some leverage and Heather's hands were back in his hair. "Mmmm, you taste incredible," he whispered between licks. "Oh god ... Oh god ... Oh god." Was Heather's only response. Donnie rolled his tongue and tried to thrust into her, but quickly met a barrier. He pulled back and decided it was time to pay some attention to Heather's clit. Tracing the length of her lips, he gently grazed the sensitive little nub with his tongue for the first time. Heather's body lurched as if she'd received an electric shock and Donnie felt her tugging his hair. It was obvious that her clit was very sensitive, so he took his time and circled it rather than adopt an all-out assault. He teased, licked and occasionally sucked on it for fifteen minutes, feeling Heather's response climb and climb. "Oh god, oh god, Donnie, you have to stop. Pleeeeaaaasssseee, you have to stop, I can't hold it!" He could feel her hands now trying to push his head away, but Donnie somehow sensed she was close to her climax and he chose that moment to be a little more direct with her nub. He licked with a little more force and then took the sensitive clit between his lips and swiped it over and over again with his tongue. Heather's reaction was truly memorable. Her efforts to push him away stopped and instead she pulled him hard against her sex, virtually grinding herself against him. "Donnie, Donnie, Donnieeeeeeeeeee, aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" Heather screamed, as she thrashed and flopped around. Donnie continued to flick her clit with his tongue, able to almost play her like a classical instrument and Heather maintained a constant moan. "Aaaaahhhhhhh, aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh, aaaaaahhhhhhh, aaaaaahhhhhhh!" Gradually her movements slowed and he heard a softer, more satisfied sounding moan. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." By now Donnie's back and legs were screaming at him from being in such a cramped position. He stooped to give Heather's sex a last kiss and then wiped his saturated face with the back of his hand. When he rose to perch himself onto the backseat, Heather attacked him and covered his face in kisses, seemingly unconcerned at her own juices. "Happy birthday," Donnie chuckled. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she gushed. Donnie gave her a deep, soulful kiss and when it broke he gave her a beaming smile. "Believe me, it was my pleasure. You taste goooood, girl." "Are we going to do it now," Heather asked shyly. "Do you think we're ready for that?" Donnie asked, a concerned note in his voice. "Believe me I couldn't be more ready," Heather breathed. "Physically ... perhaps. But emotionally? In any event, I haven't got any condoms," said Donnie. "Oh shit! Let me at least return the favour then," Heather suggested. "Tonight was just for you. Think about what you want tonight and tomorrow. If you still want to go all the way you can tell me in the cold light of day and when you're not flushed after just cumming. Okay?" Heather thought about what he'd said and admitted to herself that she probably wasn't thinking clearly right at that moment. "I'm going to hold you to that. I'm pretty sure I won't change my mind, so I suggest you start carry a supply of condoms from now on," she said. ------- The student council managed to score some success in taking forward their manifesto. The Headmaster wasn't overly supportive however and the trick was always to emphasise how their proposals would make life easier for the school management and teachers. As a result of their input, lessons had been restructured to ensure consistency across subjects. The most able students were now paired up with those who were doing less well. It was a type of tutoring arrangement and this was leading to a marked improvement in performance. Donnie was surprised that the council hadn't met with more resistance yet, but knew it couldn't last and he was right. His real problems with the Headmaster came about because of the 'exclusion' (suspension from school) of a fifth year student. The boy concerned, Alex Dalgliesh, approached Donnie and told his story. "Basically Mr Ogilvie wasn't interested in hearing my side of things. The Chemistry teacher told him that I'd turned on a gas tap and set it alight, but I was trying to explain that it was Kevin Roberts who did it. Mr Sullivan, the teacher, just happened to turn round as I had my hand on the tap trying to turn it off and he exploded," Alex explained. "So I take it that other people saw Kevin doing this?" Donnie asked. "Of course they did, but neither Sullivan nor Mr Ogilvie are interested. It was like a kangaroo court. The teacher said I did it and that's enough for the Head." "Didn't you get the chance to take someone with you when you were taken to the Headmaster's office?" Donnie asked. "No. I was in his office within five minutes of Sullivan blowing up and back out again with a two week exclusion five minutes later. It's an absolute joke! Alex declared. "Look, I can't promise anything, but this sounds like a case where we should be able to get Mr Ogilvie to reconsider. Give me the names of a few people who would have witnessed what happened." Over the course of the day Donnie managed to speak to three different students who confirmed Alex's story. He began to think about the way that 'justice' had been carried out and wondered if there wasn't a bigger issue here than just Alex being wrongfully excluded. "Why was there such a rush to have this dealt with?" he thought to himself. "Surely something as important as this should be more carefully considered? Isn't it a fundamental right to at least be listened to when someone makes allegations about you? Why should a teacher's word carry more weight than that of a student? Why didn't the student have the opportunity to have someone accompany him to such an important meeting? What if he wasn't confident enough to speak up for himself? Is there any right of appeal when Mr Ogilvie passes judgement like this?" Donnie shared his questions with the other members of the student council and there was unanimous agreement that Alex's situation highlighted some major flaws with how discipline was handled by the school. They all agreed that it was something that they should try and address and Donnie suggested that he speak to Mr Ogilvie about it. His first problem was getting a meeting with the Headmaster. The secretary in the general office asked a battery of questions about the need for such a meeting. Donnie refused to divulge what the meeting would be about, as he thought the matter was confidential. "Look, I'm the chair of the student council. Doesn't that suggest that I need to meet with the Headmaster now and again? I can't believe how difficult you're being about this," Donnie complained. "All I'm doing is following Mr Ogilvie's instructions," the secretary replied. "I need to see the Headmaster. Can you please speak to him and agree a time for that to happen," Donnie repeated his request. "Not until you tell me what you want to speak to him about," the secretary repeated her response. "This is silly," Donnie opined and left the office. He decided to slip a note with his request for a meeting under the Headmaster's door and tore a page out of one of his notepads before scribbling his request. Two days passed without any message to tell Donnie that his request had been granted. He made his way to the general office again and spoke to the same secretary as before. "Hi, I left a message for Mr Ogilvie asking for a meeting. Has he said anything about fixing up a time?" he asked. The Secretary looked down her nose at him and chose to ignore his question. Donnie was astounded at how rude she was being. He spotted her name on a nameplate on her desk. "I'm sorry Ms Patterson, I asked a question. I wasn't rude in any way and for the life of me I don't understand why you're being so rude now," he stated quietly and politely. The secretary spun in her seat, a look of outrage on her face. "How dare you speak to me like that!" she shrieked in a high-pitched voice. "How dare you!" The Headmaster's door opened and Mr Ogilvie stuck his head out. "What seems to be the problem, Fiona?" he asked. "This boy was just very rude to me Headmaster!" she accused. "I was no..." Donnie's rebuttal was cut off by the Headmaster. "Be quiet, McGregor! In what way was he rude, Fiona?" he asked the secretary. "I couldn't possibly repeat such language Headmaster. I'm very upset." With that, the secretary burst into tears and rushed from the room. "Consider yourself excluded for two weeks starting immediately McGregor. I want to you off school property now!" "But..." "No buts! Off the premises now!" the Headmaster bellowed. Donnie was astounded. He had been nothing but polite to the woman, despite how rude she had been to him. He understood now how Alex must have felt when he had been excluded. Mr Ogilvie wasn't even allowing him to speak, never mind defend himself. He opened his mouth to complain about the treatment, but the Headmaster cut him off again. "GO!" He pointed to the front door of the school. Donnie left the office and instead of heading for the door made for the student council room where he had left his bag with his textbooks for the day. He had only taken a few steps when he felt a sharp tug and he was spun round by the Headmaster. There was a tearing noise and when Donnie looked down he could see that the lapel of his uniform jacket was torn. "I need to collect my bag, it's got my books and my keys in it," he tried to explain. "I told you to get out of my school, now get out!" Ogilvie screamed. Donnie wasn't cowed by the older man screaming. He found the entire situation somewhat surreal. Shrugging, he turned towards the exit and saw a head duck back into the photocopying room inside the office. "That was Sharon Baxter, I wonder if she heard all that's gone on?" he thought as he left the school building. The bell sounded to signify the end of one lesson and the start of another. Donnie managed to grab someone he knew and convinced them to retrieve his bag. Without his keys, his car was less than useless. Once he got home to the farm, Donnie explained what had happened to his parents, including why he was trying to arrange a meeting with the Headmaster in the first place. "It sounds as if the questions you have are damned good ones," his father said in support, "he can't be allowed to do this kind of thing. He didn't allow you to get your bag so for all he knows you had no way of getting home. The school is fifteen miles away, how long would that have taken you to walk? It's freezing out there; you could have frozen to death before you got home! "And that (he pointed to the torn jacket) if I'm not mistaken is assault! Mairi, phone the police please. I think we should make sure that this is all a matter of record." They waited several hours before a patrol car pulled up outside the farmhouse and two members of Perthshire's finest got out, one man and one woman. Once Donnie had re-told his story for the two officers, the policeman took the lead in asking him questions. The policewoman was taking notes in a small black-bound notebook and only asked the odd question or two. "Were there any witnesses to these events?" the policeman asked. "There was someone in the photocopying room – that's like a cupboard in the office and it's possible that she overheard. Her name is Sharon Baxter." Donnie happened to play rugby with Sharon's brother so he knew her address and he shared that information with the officers too. "And what do you expect us to do, sir?" the policeman asked Douglas. Before Douglas could answer, Donnie spoke up. "Well for a start I want to press charges of assault and criminal damage against Mr Ogilvie," he said. The policeman looked at Douglas and Donnie saw his father simply nod his agreement. "Very well, sir. We'll need to make further enquiries, including speaking to Mr Ogilvie and this Sharon Baxter. We'll keep you informed of how things are going." Once the officers had left, Donnie's father asked him if he was serious about pressing charges. "Dad, he didn't physically hurt me and I wasn't scared or anything. Someone else might have been though. His refusal to let me get my bag was just petty and it could have caused me quite a problem in getting home. "If I'm excluded from school for two weeks right now, it could have a serious impact on my exam results – that could mean not getting into University. But this isn't just about me. This man is power crazy and he could be adversely affecting the education of many other students, students like Alex. This is about natural justice. Everyone should have the right to defend themselves and get a fair hearing. "I'm not really serious about the charges, but if he thinks I am then maybe we can use that as a bargaining chip to try and resolve this whole thing. With the police involved, the Director of Education at the council will need to intervene. Hopefully he's got more sense than Mr Ogilvie and he'll address the wider problem." Douglas considered his son. Donnie had clearly been calculated in how he was using the police involvement and Douglas thought it was a good ploy to use. "Just be careful you don't overreach here, Donnie. Don't get too smart for your own good," he advised. "Good advice, dad. I'll try and behave as you and mom have taught me to," Donnie replied. ------- The police officers heard a completely different version of events from Mr Ogilvie than what Donnie had told them. The Headmaster's version made it out as if Donnie had attacked the secretary with a foul-mouthed outburst when he hadn't gotten his wish to have a meeting. Ogilvie further added that Donnie had pushed him and that he had ripped Donnie's jacket by clutching at the lapel to keep himself from falling over. "He is the one that assaulted me!" Ogilvie accused. The secretary corroborated the Headmaster's story about Donnie's behaviour but admitted she hadn't seen the alleged assault. Once the two officers were back in their car they compared notes. "He seems like a well-mannered boy, but I suppose looks can be deceiving." "But why would he start hurling abuse just because he hadn't been granted a meeting with the Headmaster?" "Don't know, but let's try this Sharon Baxter and see if she saw or heard anything." ------- Sharon's mother called her downstairs and the teenager gulped when she saw the two police officers. This time the policewoman took the lead. "Take a seat Sharon. It's okay, you're not in any trouble. We just want to ask you a few questions about something that may have happened at school." "Is this about Mr Ogilvie ripping Donnie's jacket and screaming at him?" Sharon asked. The two police officers exchanged a glance – bingo! Sharon must have witnessed the events. "Why don't you tell us what you can remember?" the policewoman asked. Sharon was able to describe hearing Donnie arriving and asking about a meeting with the Head then the secretary shrieking about him being rude. "Then I heard Mr Ogilvie ask her what Donnie had said and she told him it was too vulgar to repeat. I think she started crying at that point and I'm pretty sure she ran out of the room. That's when Mr Ogilvie told Donnie he was excluded for two weeks and he ordered him to get out of the school immediately. "I came out of the photocopying room at that point and saw Donnie heading back along the main corridor, away from the exit. Mr Ogilvie ran up behind him and put his hand over Donnie's shoulder. He kind of spun Donnie round and I heard his jacket ripping, Donnie's jacket I mean. "Donnie tried to explain to Mr Ogilvie that he needed to get his bag because his keys were in it. Mr Ogilvie screamed at him again to get out and Donnie left at that point. I hid in the photocopy room, waiting for Mr Ogilvie to go away, then I left." The two officers had listened to Sharon's version of events without interruption. Only now that she had managed to get it all out did they begin to ask her questions for clarification. "Sharon, you said the secretary accused Donnie of being rude and that she told Mr Ogilvie she couldn't repeat the words. I need you to tell me what it was that Donnie said that got her so upset?" the policewoman asked. "That's the weird thing, he didn't say anything." Sharon paused and her brow wrinkled as she concentrated and tried to remember what had happened. "He asked about the meeting and she didn't answer him. I think Donnie then said something like - 'I'm not being rude and I don't understand why you are' – I got the impression she was ignoring his question," Sharon explained. "Are you sure?" asked the policeman. "He couldn't have said something quietly that you might have missed?" "Everything Donnie said was said quietly, that's how he speaks. Even when Mr Ogilvie was screaming at him, Donnie was polite and quietly spoken," Sharon answered. "What hand did Mr Ogilvie use to grab Donnie?" the policewoman asked. Sharon screwed up her face again. "His left. Yeh, I'm pretty sure it was his left." "You said that Donnie mentioned his bag. Why was his bag important do you think?" the policewoman asked. "Didn't I say that Donnie explained his bag had his keys in it?" Sharon asked, confused by the question. "Oh sorry, yes you did mention that," the policewoman apologised. "Okay, that's about all we need for now, Sharon. I have to say though that if charges are brought with regard to this incident, we will have to ask you to make a formal statement." Again, once the two officers were back in the car they discussed what they had been told. "Is she a reliable witness or a girlfriend?" the policewoman asked. "A bit of a co-incidence that she happened to be in the cupboard, don't you think?" "Yeh, you're right. I see no reason not to believe her and her story is virtually word for word what the McGregor boy told us. Which means..." "Which means Ogilvie is lying and so is the secretary," the policeman finished for her. ------- Ogilvie was surprised to hear a knock at his door and then Fiona Paterson stuck her head in. "Headmaster, I'm sorry to disturb you but the two officers have returned and would like to see you again." The door was pushed open and the police officers politely asked the secretary to move out of the way. "We weren't making a request ma'am," the policewoman advised. "Please wait outside." Once the door was shut, the policeman turned to the Headmaster. "Mr Ogilvie, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to accompany us to the police station." "What! Don't be so ludicrous. Why would I do that?" Ogilvie spluttered. "Well sir, either you accompany us or I will have to arrest you and then we'll march you to the police car in handcuffs. Which would you prefer?" ------- Chapter 10 The following day, the school was buzzing with the story of the Headmaster leaving in the company of two police officers. Rumours started flying when the police arrived back at the school and Mrs Paterson accompanied them out to their patrol car. "Ogilvie has been charged with sexual harassment." "Ogilvie's been caught with one of the fifth year girls and the secretary was in on it." These were just two of the many pieces of wild speculation that were spreading like wildfire. The same two officers arrived at Craig Bheithe farm to update the McGregors on what action they had taken and to ask Donnie to go with them to the station to make a formal statement. "If I make a statement, can I still withdraw the charges at a later stage?" Donnie enquired. The officers scrutinised him closely for a few moments before the policeman answered his question. "Yes, you can still withdraw the charges later. Are you suggesting that you want to withdraw the charges? Have you been telling us the whole truth about what went on?" "Everything I've told you is the truth," Donnie confirmed. "I'm not vindictive though and if the school can sort things out so that their processes are more transparent and fair, then I don't see why I should pursue Mr Ogilvie beyond that." Donnie and his father made their own way to the police station and Douglas remained with his son while a formal statement was taken. Donnie read the statement through and then, nodding, he signed to confirm that he was content it was accurate. No sooner had father and son returned to the farm than Mairi advised them that the Director of Education had phoned while they were out. "He seemed very agitated and pressed to have a meeting with Donnie as soon as possible," Mairi told them. "That sounds positive," suggested Donnie. "If he's moving this quickly, it's surely to try and resolve things before the legal process gets to a point where it's irreversible?" "Where does he want to meet?" Douglas asked. "At the school. He suggested we get there by one o'clock if we can," Mairi told them. ------- Ironically, the meeting took place in the Headmaster's office. Mr Ogilvie sat quietly, but was clearly still angry. The Director of Education, a Mister Riddle, introduced himself and asked Donnie and his parents to take seats. The Director and Ogilvie were on one side of the Headmaster's desk and the McGregors were on the other. Just as Riddle was about to begin the meeting, Donnie held his hand up to halt him. "Er, Mr Riddle, I'm not trying to be awkward, but wouldn't it be less adversarial if we weren't on opposite sides of the desk?" he asked quietly. The Director looked at the room set-up and thought that Donnie had a valid point. "Good thinking, Donnie. Let's get these chairs out from behind the desk," Riddle agreed. Once the chairs were arranged in a circle, Riddle began again. He was encouraged by Donnie's helpful suggestion, seeing it as a sign that the youngster may be willing to work with him to resolve the issues. "Okay," Riddle began, "I'm hoping we can all work together to try and get past the unfortunate misunderstandings of yesterday." At the use of 'misunderstanding' Donnie's face clouded and he glanced at his parents. Douglas imperceptibly shook his head to warn his son not to interrupt at this point. Douglas was keen for the council and the school to show their hand before saying anything. "I can confirm that the school are willing to rescind Donnie's exclusion with immediate effect and that we will replace Donnie's jacket at no cost to yourselves. In return we would need Donnie to drop any action currently being pursued and he should apologise to Mr Ogilvie and Mrs Paterson." When Riddle had finished his little speech, he leaned back in his chair and smiled broadly at everyone. Douglas stood and gestured to his wife and son to stand too. He turned as they made for the door and gave his advice to the Director. "I think that you need to get to the bottom of what went on here yesterday because it's clear from what you've just said that you don't know the facts. If anybody needs to apologise I think you'll find that it's not Donnie. Once you've enlightened yourself, you can call again. Let me make myself clear though. If that call doesn't begin with the words 'Mr Ogilvie will no longer be working at the school' then we won't be meeting again. We'll leave any future meetings to my lawyer." Riddle's face crumpled, as he realised there was something going on that he wasn't fully aware of. He shot a look at Ogilvie and then rushed to follow the McGregors out of the door. "Let's not be so hasty, Mr McGregor! I'm sure we can sort all this out if we just sit down and discuss the matter," he got out in a rush. Douglas stopped and turned again. "I'm always happy to try and sort things through dialogue. However, I'm not going to waste any more of my time when you obviously don't even know the truth about yesterday's events. I suggest you contact the police and ascertain just what Mr Ogilvie is being charged with. Now, good day." Riddle was left outside the Headmaster's door, his mouth agape. That lasted for all of thirty seconds and then his face darkened and he re-entered the office, closing the door behind him. "You've just allowed me to make an absolute fool of myself, Jim. I can assure you, that I'll make you pay for that. Now, are you going to tell what really happened yesterday or am I going to have to do what the McGregors suggest and contact the police?" Ogilvie's response was surprising in its sheer venom. "It's all down to that arrogant little bastard! Did you see him? Didn't I tell you just how supercilious he was? Trying to take charge by moving the chairs – little bastard!" Riddle was shocked at the outburst and he shook his head sadly. "Jim, you need to think about what you're saying. You're perspective and judgement seem to be way off here. For a start, young McGregor is anything but little. His suggestion about the chairs was a good one – he was right, we had placed the desk between us and that was almost a subliminal message that we were on opposite sides. The boy was perfectly polite. I don't see what your problem is. Now, the truth about yesterday please?" Ogilvie frowned as he realised the Director was not agreeing with him about Donnie's attitude and behaviour. He folded his arms, pursed his lips and refused to respond to Riddle's request. Sighing deeply, the Director crossed to the coat rack mounted on the wall behind and to the left of the office door. He picked up Ogilvie's jacket and handed it to him. "Go home; you're officially suspended pending the outcome of my investigation into yesterday's events. I'll be in touch eventually – hopefully once I have all of this sorted out." Once the shocked Ogilvie had shuffled from his own office and left the building, Riddle asked the secretary (Josephine's mother) to get him a contact number for the police who were handling matters to do with Donnie McGregor. Ten minutes later the secretary buzzed through to tell the Director that she had the police on the line. "Put them through," he said. "Hello? Yes, this is Peter Riddle; I'm Director of Education at Perth Council. I'm trying to speak to someone who might be dealing with the Donnie McGregor case." "I think you must be mistaken. There is no 'Donnie McGregor case'. Do you mean the charges that have been made against your Head teacher, Mr Ogilvie?" the policeman on the phone asked. "Charges? Charges against Jim Ogilvie? Look, you'll have to bear with me. All I've heard is Jim's version of events yesterday. Would it be possible for you to share what you know? It might save both of us a mountain of paperwork." The Director had hit on the one thing guaranteed to get a positive reaction. All policemen hated the stacks of paperwork they had to complete on a daily basis. When that involved a case like the one involving Donnie, it was all the more frustrating, as the officers knew that it was unlikely the charges would be taken forward. In short order Peter Riddle was advised that an independent witness had confirmed that Donnie had basically been bullied, excluded for no good reason, assaulted and finally expelled from the school building, in freezing conditions, with no way to get to his home that was 15 miles away. "And you're positive that Jim Ogilvie actually attacked the youngster?" Riddle asked for confirmation. "And Donnie specifically told Jim that his keys were in the bag?" Once the conversation was over, the Director knew that both Ogilvie and the secretary, Mrs Paterson had been lying to him. He could now fully understand Douglas McGregor's reaction earlier. He found it hard to believe Ogilvie's actions. Stabbing the intercom on the Headmaster's face, the Director asked Mrs McCallister to try and get the McGregors on the line. Minutes later she buzzed through and he was connected. "Look, I've just spoken to the police and discovered the full extent of what went on here yesterday. I can only apologise for what was said earlier, you had every right to be annoyed and I should have researched all of the facts before speaking to you. Would it be too much to ask you to return to the school right now? Thank you, I really appreciate this. Yes, I'll see you then." Just over half an hour later, the McGregors were once again seated in the Headmaster's office, but this time the discussions were of a completely different nature. Peter Riddle began by giving Douglas an assurance. "Earlier you stipulated that my next call to you should confirm that Jim Ogilvie was no longer working at the school. I can give you that assurance now. After hearing what the police had to say, I would be surprised if he's not dismissed for gross misconduct." Donnie chose that moment to intervene. "Will that mean that he'll lose his pension and other benefits?" The Director looked at Donnie and thought for a few moments before answering. "Given the circumstances, that's entirely possible." "I think that's going too far," said Donnie. "This situation has gotten completely out of hand and in fact we run the risk of missing the point all together." Riddle was intrigued by what Donnie was suggesting and he asked him to explain what he meant. Donnie repeated the conversation he had had with his parents the day before. He explained what was wrong with the school's approach to discipline and how it lacked natural justice. "I think the policy really does need to change. There should be a genuine willingness to listen to the 'students' voice', not the lip-service that Mr Ogilvie has been paying for so long. There are many positive things that the students in this school can contribute that will improve learning for everybody," Donnie argued. Listening to Donnie's impassioned plea, the Director couldn't fail to be impressed with the ideas Donnie was putting forward and could see the potential benefits for the school's future achievements. "You know, I'm just beginning to realise just how big a fool Jim Ogilvie is," the Director observed. "If he had just taken the time to listen to your ideas, he would have been at the forefront of some innovative solutions to the problems we are all grappling with." "These aren't my ideas, they're ideas generated by the school's student council. All the council wants is a chance to play a part in making the school better," Donnie suggested modestly. ------- Donnie's return to the student council room was met by cheers from his fellow council members. When he explained how positively the Director of Education had responded to their ideas, all of them were excited at the possibilities for the future. "We did this together!" said Donnie. "I think each of you can now justifiably claim to be a member of the first student council to have genuinely made a difference!" Later that day, Donnie heard the goddess speak to him inside his head. "I have been following events with interest, Dòmhnall. I saw no need to intervene on this occasion and you handled yourself very well indeed. You got just the outcome you and your friends were looking for and your development is coming on much quicker than even I could have hoped for. I am pleased with you." ------- The next intervention by a goddess was an unexpected one. Its origins lay in a conversation between Donnie and Heather over lunch in the school lunchroom. For once the two teenagers had a table to themselves and Heather took the opportunity of returning to an issue that was occupying more and more of her thoughts. "On my birthday you said that I should take some time to think about what I wanted to do. I can understand what you meant at the time and you were right, I wasn't thinking clearly." Donnie cottoned on straight away to what Heather was referring to. He stopped eating and made sure she could see that she had his undivided attention. This was important. "My thoughts on the matter haven't changed," Heather got out in a rush. "I think we're ready to take that step and if you don't do it soon, I think I'm going to spontaneously combust." Donnie couldn't help but laugh at Heather's description of herself. Heather found herself joining in and that helped relieve some of the tension she was feeling. Donnie composed himself, he knew how important this was and he needed to show that he was taking Heather very seriously indeed. "This is a big step for both of us. If you're absolutely sure, then I would indeed be honoured to share my first time with you." Heather looked somewhat puzzled at his response. "You mean ... Are you saying that you're still a virgin too?" she asked quietly, glancing round to make sure no one was in earshot. "Yes, I am. Why do you sound so surprised?" Donnie asked. "But you sure seemed to know what you were doing the other night," Heather explained her puzzlement. "Beginner's luck," Donnie chuckled. Now all we need is the right opportunity." "You'd better not keep me waiting too long, buster!" Heather warned. Heather wasn't to know it, but her pressing Donnie had a significant effect. That same night Heather found herself having a strange, but highly erotic dream. Despite being asleep, the sensations she was feeling were absolutely unbelievable. There were echoes of the night of her birthday when Donnie had gone down on her, but even that paled when compared to the way her nerve endings were on fire now. Heather wasn't sure when she transitioned from sleep to being awake, but she could tell that the sensations from her dream hadn't abated one little bit. Looking down, she saw that her legs were bent at the knee under her duvet. She could feel her heels planted on the mattress and her legs splayed apart. What was 'wrong' with the picture she could see was the lump under the duvet that was between her legs. That shouldn't, couldn't be there but as Heather watched, part of the lump began to rise and fall in a slow rhythm. The movement corresponded with the resumption of the electric feelings that were shooting through her core. Heather could feel something working on her clit and she felt herself shaking her head from side to side. She was vaguely aware that she should be freaking out, but somehow she was just giving herself over to the most intense feelings she had experienced in her short sixteen years of life. Heather felt an orgasm approaching. Donnie had somehow managed to let things build and build until the waves of pleasure washed over her. This feeling was something altogether different, more 'raw'. It seemed to well up quickly and she had the picture of a tsunami inside her head. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhgggghhhhhhhhh!" escaped her lips as the huge wave of ecstasy crashed over her and leapt across every synapse at once. When Heather regained her senses, she felt something or more accurately someone beginning to kiss their way up her flat stomach towards her breasts. Hands rucked her sleeping 'T' out of the way and she felt lips descend to feast on her diamond hard nipples. This continued for some time and Heather was vaguely aware that there was a different quality to the way her breasts were being pleasured. It was a more subtle technique than Donnie had used. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew the difference was something to be welcomed. All too soon the lips resumed their climb and Heather's eyes opened wide in astonishment, as a woman's head emerged from under the duvet. Heather had been convinced that Donnie had somehow managed to get into her room, but the dazzling green eyes that were staring at her were certainly not his. The woman appeared petite, even smaller than Heather was and her porcelain skin was contrasted by the long coal-black hair that framed her face. At the back of Heather's head, the notion that she should be screaming was still there, but she had no intention of acting on it for some reason. She felt hypnotised as the woman's face closed with hers and she felt the softest, sweetest kiss on her lips. "Hello, Heather. My name is Epona." Heather was sure that Epona's lips hadn't moved, but she had definitely heard the beautiful woman's voice. Even the voice was a thing of wonder. It seemed to physically stroke Heather's cheek, as Epona herself dipped to run her slender tongue down the teenager's neck to the hollow where it met her shoulder. Still Heather was mesmerised by the woman and she felt slender hands curl round her legs, grasping them from below to keep them firmly apart. Something hard wedged itself in the groove of her sex and Heather felt it slide upwards, nudging her clit as it did so. "Is this what you have been craving? Is this what Donnie has kept from you?" The woman's words penetrated Heather's sex-fogged brain and she realised what it was that was sliding so erotically up and down her sopping slit. "Oh god, it feels like she's got a cock, but that's not possible," "Goddess would be a more appropriate salutation. But you're right about the cock, my pretty. Do you like how it feels, Heather? Do you want to feel it filling you up? Do you want me to slide it into you and drive you to an even higher plateau of ecstasy?" "Can she read my thoughts?" Heather wondered, her attention drawn to the sensations she could feel building in her pussy. "Of course I can, silly girl. I'm a goddess. That's how I know that you want to feel my cock inside your tight little pussy. That's why I know how desperate you are to feel that right now." Heather gasped. The feelings were overpowering and she knew that Epona was right. She wanted, no, she needed to feel the hot staff lance into her tight channel. She spoke aloud. "Are you ... are you going to ... are you going to fuuucckk me?" "Oh yes, I like that word. Do you feel deliciously naughty saying it out loud, Heather? Do you? Are you ready for Epona to fuck you now? How badly do you want my stiff cock in your little pussy? How badly do you need me to FUCK you?" At that moment Heather's entire world was focused on the sensation of the hard cock teasing her sex. She had never wanted anything in the world as badly as she wanted to be filled up by Epona's cock. "Please? Ummmm, please?" Heather whimpered. "Please 'what', Heather? What is it you want? Tell your goddess." The fog seemed to lift from Heather's mind and she was suddenly able to think clearly for the first time since her dream had begun. Clarity only seemed to make her longing worse though and she felt herself thrusting her hips to increase the contact with the now slippery cock. She whispered what it was she wanted. "Louder, Heather. Tell me what you need?" Heather's need was tortuous, but she knew what she had to have. There was no doubt in her mind. "I need ... I need your ... cock!" she moaned. "I need your cock inside me. Now! I need your cock inside me now. Fuck me, please fuck me. FUCK me!" "Will you swear to serve the goddess?" "YES! Anything, just fuck me. FUCK ME!" The feeling of the stiff cock changing angle and coming up against her hymen was almost more than Heather could take. "Last chance. Are you sure?" "Yes! Fuck me, fuck me. Please, please, please fuck me. Put your hard cock in my pussy and FUCK me!" Heather was expecting some pain as Epona pushed through her virginity, but all she felt was another huge wave of pleasure. The goddess pulled back, but then thrust again. Another reversal was followed by a further thrust and Heather felt herself being stretched for the first time. "Yes, yes, yeeessssssss. Do it, fuck me. Fuck me good," Heather moaned. When Epona's pubic bone made contact with Heather's sensitive clit, the teenager began to hyperventilate. Epona's mouth covered her's, immediately, slowing her breathing and reducing her loss of carbon dioxide. The kiss grew passionate and Heather felt the petite woman on top of her beginning a steady rhythm, her cock pistoning in and out. It wasn't long before Heather threw her legs round the smaller woman, using her heels to drive the goddess' cock as deep as she could get it. "Ahh, ahh, uhhh, uhhh," she panted, in time to the thrusts. Epona changed the angle at which her cock was penetrating and Heather felt a new sensation, as the cockhead rubbed something inside her pussy. Her clit was still being stimulated as each thrust bottomed out and the combination of sensations just proved too much for Heather. "AAaarrrgggghhhhhhhh!" She whined, as her climax crashed over her. Epona shortened her strokes, driving into Heather harder and faster and the teenager felt another wave of pleasure threaten to drown her. Still the goddess was not finished with her. The thrusting cock continued to hammer away inside Heather's velvety sleeve and then the teenager felt a wet finger forcing its way through the tight ring of her ass. "Oooohhhhhhhhh, aaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" Heather groaned as she came again. This time she felt the goddess' cock buck and the teenager experienced sheer bliss as something hot blasted deep within her. The entire combination was too much and Heather blacked-out at that point. When she came around, it was to find the petite woman cuddling her tenderly. Epona smiled and leaned in to give her another soft, sweet kiss. "You came. Does that mean I might be pregnant?" Heather asked. A little concerned. "No silly, that's just my way of rewarding myself." Before Heather could react or say another word, the goddess slipped back under the duvet and the teenager felt the cycle of pleasure beginning all over again. She could feel it when the goddess sucked her own spend from her pussy and that was somehow a huge turn-on. Epona licked Heather to two further climaxes and then knelt on the bed; her now hard again cock rampant in front of her. This was Heather's first sight of the organ that had given her so much pleasure and her eyes were like saucers as she soaked up every detail of it. "Can I touch it?" Heather asked tentatively. "Oh you're going to do more than touch it. You're going to worship it. Worship it with your mouth and your tongue. Show your goddess that you know how to serve!" After a short lesson in the finer arts of cock-sucking, Epona had Heather kneel on all fours and she proceeded to fuck her from the rear. Several more orgasms later, the teenager and the goddess fell side by side onto the bed. "That was incredible," Heather declared. "I doubt that I'll be able to walk tomorrow. Oh shit! How am I going to explain this to Donnie?" Heather's concern was momentarily forgotten when she felt a sharp burning sensation on her left shoulder. "There. Now you are truly mine. Now, we need to talk." ------- It was almost the end of April now. It had proved to be an extremely wet month with record rain fall across many parts of the UK. It seemed that the weather forecast carried severe weather warning for flooding just about every night and the news reported on whole towns that were awash. People were losing everything as their houses were inundated with flood water. Nearby Perth was always susceptible to such conditions and for a few weeks there was a danger that the River Tay would burst its banks. Sand bags were used to try and bolster flood defences and thankfully the danger receded without any real damage having been done. April also brought the shock of the first income from Donnie's tree energy design and his second major idea. Mairi McGregor was finishing the clean-up of the farmhouse kitchen after breakfast. She realised her son was sitting staring at a letter he had received in the post that morning. When she looked at Donnie again a few minutes later, he was in the same position, still staring at the page held in front of himself. Looking closer, Mairi saw that Donnie had a kind of glazed appearance, as if he had just received a shock of some kind. "Are you feeling okay, son?" she asked with concern. Donnie didn't reply and Mairi bustled over to check what had affected him so. She gently eased the letter out of his fingers and raised her glasses to her face so she could read it. Douglas came running into the kitchen when he heard his wife's scream and he found her lying in a heap on the floor. He noticed that Donnie seemed to be staring off into the middle-distance, oblivious to the fact that his mother seemed to have collapsed. Kneeling down, Douglas felt for a pulse and was relieved to find it strong and healthy. Before he could think of what to do next, Mairi started to come round and he simply held her, stroking her hair gently. "What happened, lass?" Douglas asked. Mairi seemed to blink several times, as she tried to regain her equilibrium. Her eyes finally focused on Douglas' concerned face and the reason for fainting came back to her. "The letter," she croaked. Douglas looked around and saw a single page of A4 paper lying beside his wife's hand. He picked it up and scanned its contents. "Shit!" he exclaimed. ... we are therefore pleased to confirm that, after deducting all taxes owed, we have deposited a check for £1,237,584.36 into the account that you have nominated. Can we take this opportunity of offering our congratulations on the first returns from your product and wish you growing success in the future. We will of course... "Shit! Douglas cursed again. He stood up and dropped the letter onto the kitchen table before helping his wife back to her feet and then into a chair. He quickly boiled the kettle and made her a cup of tea then turned to check on his son. He wet a cloth and used it to wipe Donnie's face. The cold water seemed to at last snap the teenager out of his trance and Donnie turned to meet his father's eyes. "I'm a millionaire," he stammered. Now that the truth had been expressed aloud, it seemed to break some kind of spell that had held each of them. Douglas started to slap Donnie on the back – his way of congratulating his son. Mairi shook her head, but a wide smile was growing on her lips. "Does that mean that we can stop giving you an allowance?" she joked. Douglas seemed to find this mild quip hysterically funny and he laughed loudly. His laugh was contagious and soon Mairi and Donnie had joined in. Finally they managed to get themselves under control and Douglas grew serious. "That's a lot of money, son. You're going to have to think about what you want to do with it." "I want you to use your profits to start this project," Beira told Donnie. After her words had faded inside his head, Donnie was given a vision of what the goddess wanted him to do. As the mind-pictures played, Donnie began to describe for his parents what he was going to do next. "I'm going to use the money to commission a purpose-built facility for growing wheat," he described. "It's going to be underground, about one acre square and covered in glass. What's different about this greenhouse though is that it will delve deep below the ground and allow one hundred layers of growing wheat to be stacked one on top of the other. "Tree energy will supply power for lighting and heating for each layer to promote the necessary growth and this way we will be able to get one hundred times the yield from a single acre site." When the goddess ended her little show, Donnie blinked and looked at his parents. Both of them were eyeing him with astonishment. "Is that even possible?" Douglas asked. Donnie seemed to consider the question. "How many times have we watched reports on the news recently about illegal cannabis farms? These criminals seem to be able to hook up lights and heating indoors and have great success in growing the plants. Why should it be any different for wheat?" he asked. Douglas realised the truth of what Donnie was saying. There had been a growing number of reports about the police discovering such cannabis 'factories' so he had to believe that it was possible to grow things using artificial light. "But on the scale you've just described?" Douglas asked hesitantly. "It's all down to the amount of power available. Most people wouldn't even consider it as the costs would be prohibitive. With my tree energy, power won't cost us anything," Donnie explained. Douglas' mind boggled. One hundred times the yield from a single acre? That still sounded just too incredible to be a possibility. ------- Donnie couldn't wait to tell Heather about his new idea. For some reason he hadn't seen her at school all day and he decided to drive to her house to share a few hours with her. When Heather opened the door, Donnie knew immediately that something was wrong. Heather wouldn't look him in the eye and if he hadn't stuck his foot in the door, she would have closed it on him. "Heather, what the hell is going on? What's wrong with you?" he demanded. "Nothing. You can't come in, my parents are out for the evening," she blurted out. "Dòmhnall, check her left shoulder. This is a good thing, but you're going to have to help her get past some guilt." Donnie reached across and quickly pushed the short sleeve of Heather's T-shirt up her arm. Heather froze and she watched like a deer in the headlights as Donnie examined the fresh burn on her shoulder. The burn was different to Donnie's, this one was in the shape of a running horse. "Is this why you avoided me at school today?" Donnie asked quietly. Heather could only nod and he saw tears beginning to gather in her eyes. "Let me guess. Epona?" "Donnie, I'm so sorry. Really, I'm so sorry!" Heather wailed. Abruptly she stopped, as Donnie's use of the goddess' name percolated into her head. "You know her?" Heather asked. Donnie unbuttoned his own shirt and slipped his left arm out of the sleeve. He turned so that Heather could see the brand that Beira had put there. "I've met her once, but I serve another. But now you know that there's no need to be sorry. I can understand. When the gods and goddesses choose us, we have little chance of refusing to serve. This doesn't stop us from going out together, does it?" Donnie asked. "No. You have my blessing to continue to do that." They both heard Epona's words. A still somewhat confused Heather invited Donnie in and they talked until her parents returned. Donnie did show her the condoms he had with him, but Heather groaned. "You wouldn't believe how much pain I am in," she groused, but still managed to smile at the memory of how she had gotten into such a state. He told her about his latest idea and Heather told him a little about her night with the goddess. She also explained that Epona had told her to try and get accepted at Stirling University to study chemistry and biology. "It sounds like we're still going to see quite a bit of each other," Donnie smiled. "Yeh, but not like I was originally thinking. You know I now serve Epona?" "Of course," Donnie acknowledged, a hint of regret in his expression. ------- Donnie and Heather had little time to explore the parameters of their altered relationship, as May brought the pressing issue of exams. Both of the teenagers felt well prepared, but weren't complacent and they kept studying hard right up until the day of each exam. Donnie's last exam was on 17 May and when he left the exam hall he realised that his time at the school was for all intents and purposes over. If things went to plan and he got the necessary results, the autumn would find him starting University life. He took a few moments to look round at the school. His five years here had been enjoyable and he hoped that Stirling would be half as good. "Once again I have refrained from making demand on you in order to leave you free to focus on your studies, Dòmhnall. With your exams now over, I am free to call on you to serve me again. Enjoy yourself, but be prepared for my summons." the goddess warned. Donnie shivered. He remembered Beira using virtually the exact same phrase the year before and he had ended up in a gunfight in Pakistan. ------- With school finished, Donnie divided his time between his various interests. He made a point of spending more time with Heather, helping her to adjust to her service. He also put in more hours on the farm helping his father and Kieran. Another demand on his time was his plan to recruit someone who could translate the idea for the wheat facility into a design that he could use to get that project underway. Donnie had discussed what he wanted to do with his father. "There is going to be a heck of a lot of heavy machinery involved in the construction and that could make a real mess of the farm," he explained. "What I think I should do is buy a new plot of land somewhere and build there. That way nothing will get in your way." Douglas could see the wisdom in that and he helped Donnie begin his search for a suitable site. There were a number of specialised agents that dealt in land sale. It wasn't long before Donnie was being flooded with schedules and photos extolling the virtues of one site or another. He was reviewing the possible options one afternoon when one in particular caught his eye. "Yes, Dòmhnall, that is the one. You have a good eye. That is where the building must begin. This site will become important, so don't limit the amount of land that you buy. You may start relatively small, but this facility is going to become much larger over the years so buy with expansion in mind," Beira told him. Donnie let her words settle in his mind and contemplated something that was going to be much larger than he was already planning. "Just what would I do with something that big?" he wondered. "Everything will become clearer in time, don't be impatient," the goddess chided him. ------- Chapter 11 Donnie and his father had taken to watching the TV news together more and more. As Donnie's geo-political awareness grew, and his understanding of climactic changes globally, he was able to become the one who was educating his father now. The report that had their attention was about a terrorist attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team in the Pakistani city of Lahore. Pakistani officials have reported that 12 gunmen attacked the coach carrying the Sri Lankan cricket team. The gunmen appear to have ambushed the single-decker bus at a roundabout in Liberty Square as the Sri Lankan team were on their way to play a test match. Early indications are that two members of the team and one coach have been injured. Eye-witness accounts suggest that the team have had a miraculous escape owing to the courage of their driver, who kept the bus moving through the gunfire and away to safety... "The world is going mad," Douglas observed. "Why attack a cricket team? We've got the North Koreans rattling sabres at the South; we've got Iran completely ignoring world opinion and hell bent on developing nuclear capability. It doesn't appear as if there will ever be a solution to the troubles in either Iraq or Afghanistan any time soon and now we've got fundamentalists attacking a cricket team. Just what is going on in the world?" "Things are starting to get worse than usual in Kashmir as well and the Chinese are not for letting up on the Nepal issue," Donnie agreed. "We shouldn't forget that there have been two high profile plots foiled here in the UK either. We're lucky that our own security forces managed to stop those." Donnie was referring to two cases where young British Asians had been arrested before they could carry out their plans for spectacular terrorist atrocities. TV news had shown surveillance footage of the huge bag of fertiliser the jihadists had hidden inside a storage unit. The group behind the plan had been caught buying up stocks of hydrogen peroxide from hairdressing suppliers. The fertiliser, when mixed with the peroxide, formed a lethal explosive. Another group had plotted to take liquid explosives on board international flights disguised as bottles of water or juice. The operation to arrest that group had led to chaos as flights had been cancelled from all UK airports. In both cases, the would be bombers had already recorded their martyrdom video messages – meant to be shown after they had blown themselves up. Some of the group members had young families yet there was no remorse shown in the messages. In many ways it was chilling that young men were willing to become suicide bombers. They were willing to give up their lives, wives and newly born children for martyrdom. Douglas thought back on the two UK plots for a moment or two. "Yes, the security forces did well with both of those, but you know what they say?" he asked. "What?" Donnie replied. "We need to be lucky every time, the terrorists just need to get lucky once." ------- Donnie made progress on purchasing his land over the summer. The plot that he had chosen was close to a small village called Ardbrecknish in Argyll. One of the borders of the plot was the shore of Loch Awe and Ben Cruachan was visible some five miles to the northwest. The proximity of the great mountain was something that had swayed Donnie's choice when reviewing the brochures. His fond memories of holidaying in Argyll, combined with the mythology that Beira, the goddess, had been active in this area had counted for quite a bit in the decision. Land prices weren't cheap though, despite the impact of the economic recession. Having listened to Beira, Donnie opted to spend as much as he could afford. He had only managed to get the seller down to £72,000 per acre, the price still high owing to the fact that the site had planning permission for building residential housing. For some reason that planning permission felt important to Donnie and he found himself willing to pay the higher price. Gambling that his tree energy licenses would soon generate yet more funds, Donnie had committed £1.2million to purchase 16.5 acres – that was virtually all of the money he had made so far. There was a further option to buy another 16.5 acres for the same price within the next year. Donnie, his parents and Heather journeyed to the site to look at it before he finally committed. If there had been any doubts that he would buy the land before that trip, they vanished as all of them were left breathless by the awe inspiring views over the loch and north towards the mountains. ------- Craig Bheithe farm August, 2010 Donnie was once again out in the fields with Rory, this time herding some sheep down off the hills so they could be shorn. "Rory, come by, come by," he called, sending the Collie round to the left of the herd to stop it straying too far away from the gate he was aiming for. As he watched his faithful companion race to obey the command, Donnie felt the sharp tug of vertigo strike him once again. Clayton County, Iowa 1849 The sensation of being totally submerged in cold water was a shock to Donnie's system. He felt panic about to overtake him, but focused on keeping his mouth closed while he reached out to connect to his 'gifts'. The gift of Tailtui helped forestall the panic and Donnie remembered something he had watched on a TV programme. Holding his hand up to his mouth, Donnie let a few bubbles of air escape. Despite being unable to see anything in the murky water, he nonetheless felt the air bubbles escape up through his fingers and thereby established which direction the surface was. Still remaining calm, he struck out with a powerful but economical stroke, using his legs to kick upwards at the same time. Not a moment too soon, Donnie burst from the water. He quickly gulped in a fresh lungful of air; before his weight dragged him back under. Having reached the surface, it was easier then to get his head back out of the water for a second time. Donnie began to tread water while he tried to establish where he was. The water was cold, but not freezing and there was only a sliver of moon to help him see in the darkness. Now that he himself had finished thrashing in the water, Donnie made out the sounds of someone else making splashing sounds. A moment later a man's cry reached him out of the darkness. "Help! For the love of god help! Hel..." He knew that sound carried well across water and was unsure of just how far away the man was. Hesitating for a few moments, Donnie wriggled out of his jacket and kicked off his boots. He held on to the jacket by his teeth, freeing his arms to begin slicing through the water in the direction he hoped the cry had come from. Without the weight of his boots dragging him down, Donnie showed that he was an accomplished swimmer. More splashing sounds gave him the sense that he was headed in the right direction and he tried to give the man some cause for hope. "I'm coming, I'm coming. Just hang on!" he called. It wasn't easy to pinpoint the sounds in the darkness, but eventually Donnie felt his right arm thud into something solid. Arms suddenly came round him and it became a struggle to remain afloat. "The idiot is going to drown us both," Donnie thought. Thinking quickly, Donnie pulled his right arm back and aimed a punch at where he thought the struggling man's head was. The pain shooting up his arm let him know that he had connected and the death-grip on him relaxed. Awkwardly, Donnie held the now unconscious man's head out of the water by supporting it with his shoulder. At the same time he began to tie a knot in each arm of his jacket just where the arm met the shoulder. He paused to blow air into one sleeve and then tied the cuff before repeating the process with the other. The jacket now became a rudimentary flotation device, something Donnie had learned in swimming lessons several years before. He struggled in the water to remove his trousers and carried out the same process with the legs as he had with the sleeves of his jacket. Eventually he had created enough buoyancy to take the weight of the unconscious man. "Now what do I do?" he asked himself. "This beats everything. Normally the goddess keeps me guessing as to what is expected of me, but this time she didn't even give me a warning that I was needed!" "I'm sorry, Dòmhnall. There was no time. If I had stopped to explain, you would have arrived too late. In any event, you seem to be coping admirably well." "Where in the name of the goddess am I?" Donnie demanded. "Turn your head to the right. You should be able to see a light. That's the direction you need to go in." Donnie did as the goddess had suggested and sure enough he could just make out a faint light. There was no way to tell how far away the light was and he would need to tow the unconscious man along. It was testament to how Donnie had grown into his service of the goddess that he simply began swimming towards the light, trusting that she wouldn't lead him astray. Some minutes later the form of the man began to show signs that he was regaining consciousness. Donnie began treading water again and spoke to the man, trying to keep him calm. "Don't panic, I've got you. Try not to thrash around so much. I've got a couple of floats here that you can hang onto to support yourself, but it would be a big help if you could kick with your legs." "Who are you?" the man asked, his voice cracking. "Save your breath for now," Donnie replied. Partly towing the man, but now at least helped by not having to drag a dead-weight, Donnie started them off towards the light once more. The man obeyed Donnie's instructions to remain quiet, which allowed Donnie to focus on getting them to safety. The light seemed to take a long time to get any closer and Donnie was growing extremely tired. He stopped for a rest, treading water as best he could. He took the opportunity to reassure the man floating beside him once again. Up close, Donnie could swear that there was a smell of whisky on his breath. "Look, can you see the light now? We can make this, we can do it. I just need you to remain calm and keep kicking," Donnie urged. A few minutes later, Donnie felt his hand touch something and he paused once more. He ran his fingers over the object and almost cried out in joy. "It's a boat!" The odds of finding a boat in the darkness had to be high and Donnie suspected that the goddess might have played a part in his 'luck'. The prospect of being able to reach the safety of a boat seemed to invigorate his new 'friend' and Donnie was forced to warn him to stop thrashing around. "Listen! If you keep this up, you're going to scuttle the thing. You need to keep your movements smooth," he warned. Somehow Donnie managed to help the man into the boat and then ordered him to the stern to counterbalance his own efforts to climb aboard. He lay panting for breath for a few minutes before sitting up. The boat was a simple rowing boat, but there was one slight problem in that there were no oars to be seen. Donnie was trying to figure out what to do next when the man in the stern asked his question again. "Who are you?" Donnie ignored the question and instead responded with one of his own. "Have you been drinking? I can smell whisky on your breath, are you drunk?" "I've had a drop or two of the uisge beatha, what of it?" the man asked, no remorse in his tone. Donnie noted the use of Gaelic and guessed that at least he was still somewhere in Scotland. The man's response grated though. "'What of it?' What fool ventures alone and drunk out onto the water at night-time?" Donnie asked. "Mind your tone wae me, laddie. I'll have you know that I am Alexander McGregor and I believe I am Chief of my line!" Donnie couldn't believe what he was hearing. Another McGregor Chieftain? Had the goddess sent him to rescue yet another of his clan's captains? Thinking back to his meeting with Alasdair of Glen Strae, Donnie asked his next question with not a little trepidation. "What's today's date?" "What? It's July the twenty third, 1849," Alexander replied, surprised by the nature of the question. "Oh goddess, not again," Donnie thought. Aloud he asked another question. "Just where exactly are we?" "Precisely? I'd say that we're in the middle of the Mississippi River," Alexander laughed. Donnie gave the McGregor chief a look of disgust. He was laughing despite almost having killed himself. Coming to a decision, Donnie lowered himself back over the side of the rowing boat and pulled himself round to the stern. "Get yourself into the middle of the boat," he ordered. Once Alexander was settled again, Donnie held on to the rear of the boat and began kicking his legs to propel them towards the source of the light once more. "You still haven't told me your name?" the McGregor chief asked for a third time. "It's Donald, Donald McGregor," Donnie managed to gasp. "Ha! So I've been saved by one of my own Gregorach!" Alexander bellowed. "I shall see that you are rewarded, laddie." Donnie chose to ignore him and continued kicking out for the light. At last they were close enough to make out the shape of something under the light. Donnie saw that it was a basic wooden jetty. The light was coming from an oil lantern hanging from a pole. He twisted his body so that his kicks took the rowing boat in the right direction and felt his task become easier as Alexander jumped from the boat onto the wooden structure. "You have my gratitude, laddie," laughed the McGregor Chieftain. "Let's get ourselves warmed up!" In the light from the lantern, Donnie could see that Alexander McGregor wasn't a huge man. Standing perhaps five feet nine or ten, he did however have very broad shoulders. It wasn't his physical stature that struck Donnie though, as he pulled himself out of the river; it was the clothes Alexander was wearing. The Chieftain wasn't wearing tartan of any description. Instead he wore a pair of plain brown pants over what Donnie could swear was a homespun vest. The pants were held up by a belt and the whole outfit was rounded off by a sturdy pair of boots. "C'mon, laddie. Keep up!" Alexander threw over his shoulder. Donnie hobbled along as fast as he could, his own lack of boots now making it painful to walk on what he assumed was a dirt path. They passed what looked like a flat-bottomed ferry boat tied up to a sturdy post and continued roughly westwards. At last they reached the end of a thick stand of trees and suddenly there were more lights ahead. "That's my town," Alexander boasted. "We call it McGregor! Don't you like the sound of that?" "Modest as well as foolhardy!" Donnie thought, still amazed at the Chief's stupidity in going out on a boat at night while drunk. The 'town' looked to be no more than a single line of wooden houses, perhaps twenty of them. Alexander headed in the direction of the largest and Donnie did his best to follow. As he reached the porch, Alexander began bellowing. "Katriona! Up girl, we have company!" The door opened and Donnie's heart almost stopped for a moment. Framed in the doorway was the red-haired girl that Beira had displayed on his computer some months before. Being mesmerised by the girl, Donnie forgot to watch where he was putting his feet and he howled as he trod on a particularly sharp stone. "Alexander, he's not wearing boots!" the girl announced. The McGregor Chieftain turned to see for himself and raised his eyebrows as if in question. "I had to kick them off to make it easier to swim," Donnie explained. Towing your weight made swimming difficult!" Alexander seemed to find this funny too, and he laughed again. Katriona appeared less amused and she turned to the Chieftain. "Pray tell me why this young man had to tow you through the water? Have you been at the uisge beatha (literally 'water of life' or whisky) again?" she demanded to know. Her wrath seemed to cow the still soaking man and he headed past her through the door. Donnie stepped up on the porch and saw that he had been mistaken. Up close, this red-head was older than the girl that Beira had shown him and there were other little differences too. "Please come in, sir. If you've saved my husband the least we can do is get you warm and put some food in your belly. It might even be possible to find you a pair of boots, although with your size, that might be difficult." "I'm sorry to impose," said Donnie. "I'm Donnie by the way. Donnie McGregor." "Oh where are my manners! Katriona, Katriona McGregor at your service. Another McGregor out here in the wilderness. Did someone tell you of our little town?" Katriona asked, showing Donnie inside the house. With further pleasantries, Katriona sat Donnie in front of a pot-bellied stove and placed a steaming bowl of stew in his hands. "You eat this while I go and speak to our neighbours to try and find you something dry to wear. Kenneth is probably closest to your size," she said, smiling. Kenneth might well have been the closest the town had to Donnie's size, but not close enough and he found the clothes small and very tight. Nothing could be done about footwear though and Katriona said that she would make him a pair of moccasins as she had been taught by an old Iowa Indian squaw. Alexander rejoined them around the stove and Katriona fixed him a bowl of stew before retaking her seat and beginning to work with some soft leather. "So what is there to know about the town of McGregor?" Donnie asked. "The town was founded by around twenty of the clan who landed in the Americas with me from the old country. If you're a McGregor yourself, you will know the persecution we were subjected to in Scotland," Alexander replied. "And that really was the Mississippi we were in?" Donnie asked. Alexander stopped eating and pulled a silver flask from his trouser pocket. He unscrewed the cap and took a deep swig of whatever was in the flask before answering Donnie's question. "It is indeed the Mississippi. It's the reason we settled here. The town runs a ferry across the river and that lets the farmers ship their produce north to Milwaukee and Lake Michigan. It's a sorry state of affairs for the Chief of the McGregors to find himself in," Alexander lamented. Katriona let out a derisory snort and stared warningly at the hip flask. "The leadership of clan McGregor descends from my family line, not yours, Alexander. You need to be careful as to your claims, claims that are solely based on marriage to me!" Donnie considered the fiery red-head with new respect. "So it is you that I owe my allegiance to as a Gregorach?" he asked. At the use of the collective term for the McGregors, Katriona suddenly had a twinkle in her eyes. "Indeed it is, Dòmhnall! My line can be traced back through my father, his father's father and all the way back eight generations to Alasdair McGregor, Lord of Glen Strae." Donnie managed to cover his surprise at the use of that name. He saw an image in his head of the man he had saved after travelling back through time. He tried to appear casual when he asked what she knew about Alasdair. "He was betrayed by the accursed Campbells!" Katriona spat. Her accusation puzzled Donnie. "Didn't I go back to heal Alasdair and warn him about the Campbell's plans to betray him?" "Hanged at the Mercat Cross in Edinburgh he was," Katriona continued, "but only after he had made his wife, Isabella McGregor pregnant so that his line would live on!" "Was that my task? Did the goddess want me to heal Alasdair so that he could father a child before he died? Is that why the goddess has brought me back to 1849? Have I saved this other buffoon, so that he too can father children? There must be more to it than that or I would already be back at Craig Bheithe." Katriona made up a bed for Donnie on the floor close to the stove. He stripped off the constricting clothes and wrapped up well in the thick blanket she had provided, hoping that his own clothes would be dry by morning. As Donnie began to drift off to sleep, he heard the voice of the goddess once more. "It is time to return the ring to its rightful owners, Dòmhnall. Only after that can I return you home." All thoughts of sleep now banished, Donnie sat up and looked at the gold signet ring on his right hand. This was the ring Alasdair McGregor had given him in return for his service, and Donnie had long suspected that it was the 'Chieftain's' ring of the McGregors. He sat through the night wrapped in blankets, thinking about giving up the ring. Something about Alexander McGregor worried him and giving the ring to such a man didn't sit well with Donnie. He must have nodded off eventually, as the next thing he knew he was awoken by the sounds of Katriona banking the fire in the stove. "That's it! I'll give the ring to Katriona; she is the true descendant of the McGregor Chieftains, not Alexander." Pulling his now dry clothes towards him, Donnie awkwardly managed to dress beneath the blankets and then stood up. Katriona was watching him as she prepared food for breakfast. "Katriona, I have something of great value that I want to give to you," Donnie began. "To be honest, it's not really mine to give, but it is most definitely yours to receive." "You are talking in riddles, Dòmhnall. It is too early in the morning for that. Speak plainly I beg you," she replied, the laughter in her eyes softening her words. Donnie held out the signet ring and she reached over to take it. "'S Rioghal Mo Dhream," he said quietly. Katriona's head jerked up at his words and then she studied the ring with far more interest. "I promise you that it is the true ring of the McGregor's," Donnie vowed. "How? How is this possible? The ring was thought to have been stolen from the Lord of Glen Strae by the Campbells almost 250 years ago," said Katriona, her eyes still focused on the ring as she turned it round and round. She noticed the engraving on the inside of the ring and her excitement grew even more. "Dia! It is the ring!" she cried. "How is it that you have this in your possession, Donnie McGregor?" "You wouldn't believe me, even if I told you," Donnie replied. "Isn't it enough that you have it back? You said that you are the true descendant of the McGregor Chiefs. The ring belongs to you." "But how can I not want to know where it has been all this time?" Katriona persisted. Donnie sighed, giving in to the inevitable. "The ring was given to me by a man I once knew. His name was Alasdair McGregor and he was the Lord of Glen Strae." Katriona's eyes grew large at Donnie's explanation and then a question seemed to appear in them. "Last night! Where did you come from last night? How was it that you just happened to appear in the night at the very moment my stupid husband needed to be saved from drowning?" she asked timidly, almost as if she might be afraid of his answer. "The same way I appeared to save Alasdair back in 1603, but there is no easy way to explain that," Donnie sighed. "I will take my leave of you now. My work here is done." Katriona seemed frozen to the spot, the McGregor ring still in her hand. Donnie folded the blankets he had used and prepared to leave the house. "Wait! I finished them. The least I can do is set you on your way with something on your feet." Katriona disappeared upstairs and returned with a soft pair of moccasins. Donnie pulled them onto his feet and used the leather thongs to bind them tightly. When he stood once again to leave, Katriona impulsively hugged him. "You have given me a wonderful gift, Domhnall. You don't know how much this heirloom means to me. Tapadh Leibh (tah-puh lave - thank you). 'S Rioghal Mo Dhream," whispered as she kissed him softly on the cheek "Royal is my race," Donnie whispered in reply and then walked out of the door. He was growing used to the stomach lurching, dizzying pull when Beira transported him. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing had changed at the farm. Rory was still racing to round up the sheep and the sun was still in the Perthshire sky. Looking down, he laughed to see the moccasins on his feet. "You have served your goddess well yet again, Dòmhnall. Enjoy the remainder of your summer." ------- Donnie and Heather's exam results were available on line towards the end of the first week in August. Both of the teenagers had done well – Donnie in particular scoring top marks in all subjects again – and that of course meant that their places at Stirling University were assured. Donnie received a phone call from Alex Dalgliesh to let him know that he too had done well in his exams. "I really appreciate you fighting to get me back into school and taking on Sullivan for being so hot-headed. There's no way to tell whether my exclusion would have lowered my results, but I'm sure getting those two weeks back did me no harm. I hear that you managed to get the Director of Education to re-open a number of other cases, so I'm probably not the only one who has you to thank today. Thanks again, and good luck!" Donnie couldn't help but feel proud of the work of the student council in helping people like Alex. There was an 'open day' at Stirling University to allow new students to familiarise themselves with the campus and Donnie offered to take Heather with him in the little VW Polo. Afterwards, they discussed their experiences of the day. "I can't believe just how 'green' the campus is," Heather enthused. There are lakes and parks – lots of open spaces to just enjoy." "I had a look at the accommodation at the Alexander Court Flats," said Donnie. They were nothing special to be honest, but functional. The only problem is that I wouldn't be able to take Rory as no pets are allowed." Donnie was already thinking about the possibility of renting an apartment close to the campus to overcome this problem. "I can't afford the fees for the flats, but I did look at the halls of residence for first years and it looked okay," said Heather. "I'm pretty sure that I'll get to know lots of people in a short space of time if I'm living in there." "Did you see the sports facilities?" Donnie asked. "Awesome, absolutely awesome. The gym is about the size of a half a football pitch. They've even got their own golf course!" Both teenagers agreed that the campus had a pleasant, natural feel. That was possibly down to the open spaces and the way that mature trees had been kept and sympathetic landscaping when the construction took place. "You know, I think we're going to enjoy going there," Donnie summed up his feeling. ------- Profits from the energy licensing scheme started to flow in on a regular basis and Donnie quickly exercised his option to purchase an additional 16.5 acres on the Ardbrecknish site. There was more than enough money left over to begin construction too, as the building 'shell' was mostly going to be re-inforced concrete and therefore not hugely expensive. As a large part of the design was going to be covered over with soil, there was little or no cost involved in detailed finishing work. Some resistance arose from local residents when they heard what was planned, but Douglas, Donnie and Donnie's architect attended a public meeting where they shared the design drawings. When the locals saw that pretty much everything was going to be below ground, the resistance evaporated. Donnie was on-site on 20 August (a Friday) to ceremonially cut the first turf on the project. Now that it was close to becoming a reality, he was getting excited. For once Donnie showed his age. He was like a child at Christmas, rushing from one part of the site to another for fear he would miss something. He also looked over those parts of the design that showed the 'above ground' developments. The glass that would go above the wheat facility wasn't in fact glass, but instead was a toughened, treated synthetic material that allowed conversion of the available sunlight to solar energy. The design was very futuristic and similar in nature to the Eden Project in Cornwall. Donnie couldn't wait to see it all take shape. ------- Chapter 12 Donnie used his computer to search for a flat to rent close to the University campus. The town of Bridge-of-Allan was close by and from his research it seemed to be a pretty highbrow area. That was reflected in the rental prices people were looking for, but with a decent income stream from the energy licensing scheme, Donnie didn't see that as a problem. There were a number of apartments that looked as if they might be suitable and he narrowed his choice down to three. Using his mobile phone, Donnie made arrangements to view each of the properties and then let his parents know that he was going out to look at them. He drove the little VW Polo to the first address he had written down and met the agent. "It has two bedrooms, gas central-heating, double-glazing throughout and you can see it has a full range of modern appliances," the agent told him as they walked through the apartment. "Is there any problem with having a dog stay here with me?" Donnie asked. The agent winced, seeing his hope of a rental and some commission disappearing. "I'm afraid not. The owner's instructions are quite explicit, no pets allowed," he said. Donnie thanked the man for his time and left to drive to the second possibility. This was more modern than the first and was stylish in a kind of Scandinavian way inside. "It's like walking into IKEA," Donnie suggested to the agent. "Yes, it is very fresh, isn't it?" the agent replied. "No, that's not what I meant," Donnie corrected her. "It's more ... sterile, minimalist, I don't know, kind of ... unlived in. It doesn't feel like a home." The agent scowled at Donnie's description. "The property is only two years old and is decorated to a very high standard. All of the appliances are new and as for it feeling like a home, isn't that for you to do with your own personal effects, your own personal touches?" Donnie shook his head at her attempts to sell the apartment to him. It just didn't 'feel' right for him. He asked about pets anyway. "Would there be any problem with me having my dog here with me?" "No, that wouldn't be an issue. In fact, the way the apartment is decorated would lend itself to having a pet. It would be pretty easy to clean up after your dog, don't you think?" Donnie snorted. He couldn't quite believe the extent that this woman would go to in trying to convince him to change his mind about the decor. "I've got some other properties to look at," Donnie told her. "Can I reach you on this number later to let you know if I'm interested?" The agent nodded and Donnie left her in the apartment as he made his way back to the Polo and searched for his last property. He had purposefully kept this property until last, as it was the one he had been most attracted to on the Internet. It was closest to the University campus and had a good selection of shops, bars and restaurants close by. "Fully furnished, two good-sized bedrooms," the agent gave his spiel. "Any problems having my dog here?" Donnie asked. "No, pets are fine. Here's the kitchen. Everything that you might expect – split-cooker, fridge-freezer, microwave and washer-dryer. Gas central heating, double-glazing, oh and it has cable TV and high-speed broadband already connected. As you can see, the TV is flat screen. It's HD as well." Donnie took a seat on one of the two leather sofas and liked how comfortable it felt. "That's a good word to sum up the apartment really. It does feel comfortable," he thought. "I'll take it," Donnie told the agent. While driving back to the farm, Donnie thought again about why he had decided not to suggest to Heather that she simply share accommodation with him rather than move into the halls of residence. The apartment had two bedrooms after all. "No, I'm making the right decision here. Heather needs her own space and I need mine. She has her goddess to serve and I don't want to cramp her style. We'll see enough of each other as it is. Living together could just spoil a great friendship." ------- Moving to the University took three trips in the car, one trip to shift Heather's stuff to the halls of residence and two for Donnie's own gear and Rory of course. Heather liked his apartment immediately, but she gave no sign of being upset that Donnie hadn't offered her the second bedroom. Rory took a few minutes to wander through the apartment sniffing here and there before he chose a spot in front of the TV and lay down for a sleep. "Rory seems quite at home?" Heather noted. "So do you," Donnie observed. "Come on lazy-bones; give me a hand to bring the last of my stuff in from the car." Once everything was put away, Donnie boiled the kettle to make them both a cup of coffee. Heather was still exploring and had found the doors in the conservatory that led out to the small garden that was part of the apartment rental. "Cool," she called. "You've got a garden and a barbeque!" Donnie brought the two cups of coffee out into the garden and handed one to Heather. They both sat on foldaway chairs and just enjoyed the afternoon sunshine for a few moments. Eventually Heather asked a question. "Are you going to do anything with it?" She swept her arm in front of her to indicate that she was talking about the garden. There was the patio of flagstones that they were sitting on then a patch of lawn which was surrounded on three sides by a bed perhaps four yards wide. The bed was spotted with weeds but nothing else and that was what had inspired her question. "It's too late for planting now, but I'll prepare the bed, get some good organic material dug in and have it ready for planting in the spring," Donnie replied. "This time next year I'll be cooking you a meal with stuff fresh from this garden." Heather smiled at the thought, and then moved on to a different subject. "Aren't you worried that you'll miss out on part of the whole 'University experience' thing by living off campus? Just think, if there's a spontaneous party one night, you won't know a thing about it!" she teased. "I'm planning on spending most of my nights studying, so being able to avoid the distraction of student parties sounds fine by me. I managed to get Stirling to let me do a combined honours course, politics and business. I really won't have time for parties," Donnie replied. Donnie's work at school qualified him for something called APL (Accredited Prior Learning) which gave him credits that would count towards his degree. That meant that he would actually be starting his studies on the second year of his courses and he had a plan to cram the remaining three years worth of University into two so that he would be barely nineteen years of age when he graduated. "With my whole life in front of me!" The following day was taken up with registering at the University, orientation (a tour of the campus) and driving round to purchase the books that Heather would need for her course. Donnie already had all of his, having contacted students who had just finished the modules that he was about to start. He was sticking to his tried and tested method of study by reading ahead before the material would be covered at lectures. After a full day, Donnie took Heather out for dinner at one of the small but high-quality restaurants in Bridge-of-Allan. "The way you're talking about life in the halls of residence, this might be my last chance to spend time with you," Donnie joked over their starters. "The way you have described your workload, it's more likely that you won't have time for me!" Heather fired back with a smile. "Have you had to perform any services for Epona recently?" Donnie asked. Heather's eyes took on a smoky look for a second and her smile grew large as she answered. "Do you mean apart from the mind-blowing sex?" "Well with Epona, I kind of thought that was a given," Donnie laughed. "It's not all sex! She's asked me to look at some things for her, things that fit in with what my studies at the University will cover. Fertility mostly, but that figures since she is the fertility goddess," said Heather. "How about you? Has Beira called on you for anything recently? Just what is your service to the mother of all gods and goddesses?" Donnie thought about Heather's question. He wasn't sure what the answer was. Heather's service seemed quite clear to her – Epona was the goddess of fertility – but what was the nature of his service to Beira? He also remained somewhat perplexed about the way the goddesses didn't make it clear what was expected of him. There were other anomalies that puzzled him – sometimes the goddess told him she had watched events without intervening; sometimes she made cryptic remarks about things becoming clearer in time; and sometimes Beira did things that made no sense or she talked about his progress or development. "If the goddess has the power to transport me through time and space, why transport me to Waziristan after Archie was discovered and shot? Why transport me into the Mississippi with barely enough time to save Alexander from drowning? Why not just fix it for Alasdair to father a child by intervening herself? It's almost like she's deliberately putting me into certain situations to test me or give me experience of something. Just what is she training me for?" Realising that Heather was still waiting for an answer, Donnie tried to focus on his companion. "You know, that's a really good question you've asked. I'm not altogether sure that I can answer it though. I think Beira is training me for something, but she won't tell me what it is. I sense that it's something big though. In fact, maybe that's why she won't tell me; maybe it's so big she thinks I'm not ready yet to be able to handle it." "Hasn't she at least given you some clues?" Heather asked. "Oh she's very good at giving clues. The only problem is that they are so cryptic, it leaves your head spinning trying to work them out." "Was Beira behind the whole idea of Ardbrecknish? It sounds like an incredible set-up if it works and I know your father is mightily impressed with what you've dreamed up." "Yeh, it was the goddess who gave me a vision of how to grow stuff this way and I suspect she heavily influenced me over the choice of where the site is. She told me that I wasn't to stint on the amount of land I purchased as the site would be getting bigger over time. That's one of her little clues for you!" Donnie snorted. "What about the politics?" Heather asked. "Everybody thought you were going to do business or medicine at Uni, and then you surprise all of us by opting for politics. There was something strange about you that day when we were shopping and you signed up as a member of the SNP." "Well spotted. That was the goddess too. She persuaded me that my immediate future at least will be in politics. That's where I've got the most chance of influencing things that really matter to me." "Things like what?" Heather prodded. Donnie held off answering as the waiter arrived with their main course dishes. Once the plates had been set in front of them, Donnie resumed the conversation. "Things like our environment. Things like Scotland's independence and our economy. Things like security and safety for our people – safety from things like terrorism. The policies of the Scottish National Party fit the things I'm interested in pretty well and I'm happy being an activist for them. I'll probably try and drum up support amongst the students while I'm here at Stirling." "Wow! It sounds like you're going to solve all of the world's problems. That's what you get when you serve the mother of all gods and goddesses! You are going to be busy!" ------- The next day saw the start of lectures and Donnie's studies began in earnest. His course had three modules for the year: Scottish Politics and Government; Stability and Disintegration of States; and Contemporary Debates in European Security. Because he was doing a combined honours degree, he also had two modules of business: Competitive advantage; and Finance. The work wasn't too difficult and Donnie was enjoying it. One thing that was slightly irritating though was the fact that his fellow students were for the most part two or even three years older than he was. Already Donnie had noticed that many of them seemed to resent his presence. The girls in particular were openly hostile and took every opportunity to make cutting remarks about his age. Halfway through his first week, he experienced one such attack and had a meeting that had been delayed now for over a year. "Who let the children in? What is this, a crèche?" Donnie heard the comments from a girl sitting behind him in the sloping lecture room. He tried to ignore the remarks and got ready to listen to the lecturer. "Hey, sonny. Shouldn't you be at school or something? This is a place where grown-ups come to study!" The accent sounded American but the comments were similar to others he had already been subjected to in his first few days. Donnie didn't rise to the bait. "You listen to me when I'm talking to you boy, show some respect for your elders!" This last comment was accompanied by a poke to the back of Donnie's head. Irritated by the poke, Donnie turned to warn his attacker to back off and found himself face to face with the red-haired girl that Beira had shown him the previous summer. Her similarity to Katriona was stunning, but this time there was no doubt that this was the girl that Beira had told him he had missed out on meeting. "Given her attitude, I'm beginning to think I would be better off not meeting her," he thought to himself for a moment. "What? Are you looking at me little boy? Do you even know what to do with a woman? I'll bet you don't even have hair on your balls yet!" This comment brought laughter from the girls who were sitting on either side of the red-head. Donnie realised he was staring at the girl and turned to face the front of the lecture room without saying a word. The red-head's taunts were cut short as the lecturer began the session. Donnie's focus on the lecture was broken by the goddess' voice in his head. "Yes, this is the girl you were supposed to meet in America last year. She's cute, isn't she? She's also special and this is the girl Epona warned you to keep your heart for." Donnie couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you serious? She's a brat! Why would I consider having any kind of relationship with someone who behaves like that towards a perfect stranger?" "Don't let first impressions fool you. The girls on this course have been trying to outdo each other in belittling you for one reason and one reason only. They all like you, but none of them can admit that because each of them thinks the others will laugh at them because of your age. Katherine is no different. She really likes you." Donnie tried to digest that. "They're saying snide things to me because they like me? How perverse is that?" "You're not listening, Dòmhnall. They can't let their peers think they like you because you're too young in their eyes. Being part of a social group is very important to these girls and they won't risk doing anything they think will lose them their status in the group." The comments continued throughout the week and Donnie was growing tired of it. He tried to ignore the attacks as best he could by submerging himself in his studies, but his concentration was suffering. He was also finding it harder and harder to get the red-haired girl out of his head. "What did Beira call her again? Yeh, Katherine. That was it. She really does have a mouth on her!" He arrived for his next lecture, Scottish Politics and Government, and heard the American accent sneer at him from behind once more. "Hey, look. The rugrat is still here. Anybody know where his babysitter is?" Laughter followed the comment and this time Donnie turned and smiled at the red-head before facing the front once more. "What? Now you're getting fresh with me? Is that it? What do you take me for – a cradle robber? Only in your dreams little boy, only in your dreams." The comments stopped when the lecture began only for Donnie to hear the goddess' angry voice. "Why are you letting this continue? Haven't I told you that you are meant to be with this girl? Do you think that you can pick and choose when you will serve me? Ask her out. Today, Dòmhnall!" "Goddess, this time you are asking too much! I could never give my heart to someone like her. Never!" "I will remind you of that last remark sometime in the future, Dòmhnall. You will ask her out, today!" Donnie fretted for the remainder of the lecture, but deep down he knew that he would have to do as the goddess had asked. "Why is my service never easy?" As the lecture ended, the students gathered their books and Donnie reached out to connect with his 'gifts'. "I'm going to need all the help I can get to pull this off!" When he turned, he saw that the red-head was already half way to the door of the lecture room. Without thinking, Donnie called out to her. "Hey! Nighean ruadh, wait up!" The red-head stopped and turned to look at him. "What did you just call me?" she asked. "Nighean ruadh. It means..." "I know what it means," she cut him off. By now Donnie had caught up with her and he could see her friends eyeing him with curiosity, no doubt waiting for the red-head's next put down. Still linked to the gifts of Tailtui and Epona, Donnie could feel confidence flooding through his body. "I'll pick you up outside the halls of residence at seven," he told her and then walked past and continued on his way to the next lecture. None of the girls made any smart remarks. Donnie was waiting outside the halls of residence ten minutes early. He was pretty sure the red-head would either fail to show up or that she would appear with her friends and carry on with the verbal abuse. He watched the entrance and kept glancing at the clock on the dashboard. To his surprise, the passenger door opened and the red-head slid in beside him. "Hi. I didn't see you come out," Donnie offered lamely. "That would be because I don't live in there. I've got a flat in the Alexander Court building." "I should have guessed that." Donnie could tell immediately that the girl's attitude was much different to what it normally was. Her head was still held at a haughty angle and there was no doubting the fire in her green eyes, but so far there were no attempts to belittle him. She was dressed in a woollen green dress that contrasted well with her hair and showed off an athletic figure. "I don't believe I'm actually sitting here," she said. "I'm going to be a laughing stock when the girls find out." "I'm sure you're more than capable of standing up for yourself, Katherine," Donnie suggested. "You know my name." "I do. Well, your first name anyway." "I prefer Katie," she said, studying him. "Katie McGregor. There, you have my full name now." "I can't say I'm surprised by that for some reason. I'm Donald, Donald McGregor or Donnie to my friends. Pleased to meet you." Donnie offered his hand and Katie took it. He felt a spark of something ignite between them and from the look in Katie's eyes she had felt it too. They sat looking at each other for a few moments before Donnie reluctantly dropped her hand and started the car. As he pulled away from the halls of residence, Donnie was confused. Sure Katie hadn't said anything offensive, but the conversation so far had been incredibly stilted. Yet there had been that spark when they'd touched. "What age are you?" Katie asked. Donnie glanced to his left to see whether this was the red-head reverting to her previous disdain of him. To his surprise, the expression on Katie's face showed simple curiosity and nothing else. He turned his eyes back to the road. "Does it matter?" he asked. "What did you do to me?" "Eh? What do you mean?" Donnie asked. "What did you do to get me to go out with you?" "Nothing as far as I'm aware. All I did was ask you," Donnie answered. "No. You didn't ask. You told me that you'd pick me up at seven. You didn't ask at all." "Things are going well so far!" Donnie thought wryly. "You like me, that's why you decided to come," he told her. "How would you know that? I've been downright rude to you all week. How can you equate that with me liking you?" Donnie thought back to what Beira had told him. "Katie, don't fight it. Just let it happen," he told her. He drove in silence for a few minutes before Katie spoke again. "It's a bit of a co-incidence. Both of us being McGregors I mean," she suggested. Donnie turned the little Polo into a parking space and turned off the engine. He locked eyes with Katie before responding to her comment. "Nothing about you and I is a co-incidence." Katie held his look for a few moments and then turned to see where they had stopped. The Polo was in the car park of AFM Bowling in the centre of Stirling. "You've brought me bowling? Are you serious?" Katie exclaimed. "What? I thought all Americans went bowling?" Donnie replied. "I'm awful at bowling, like really awful!" ------- After the difficult early exchanges in the car, it eventually turned out to be a reasonably fun night. Donnie paid for their games and each of them was issued bowling shoes to wear. The ice was probably broken when Donnie asked Katie if he could get her a drink. "Sure, I'll have a beer. Anything is good – Bud, Coors, something like that," Katie told him. Donnie shook his head. "If you want a beer then you'll have to go to the bar. I'm not old enough to get served," he confessed. "I knew it!" Katie exclaimed with mock fear, "I'm about to be arrested for corrupting a minor! Look at the shameless American hussy everyone, she's trolling for jailbait!" Donnie was in hysterics at her performance and was still laughing by the time Katie returned from the bar. She handed him a coke and took a swig from the Budweiser she had opted for herself. "Here's the deal," Katie told Donnie. "We do not bowl until after I've put at least four of these away. That will give me an excuse for being so bad at bowling." "Even if you're rubbish, it doesn't matter. I'll never tell a soul, on my honour. We Gregorach have to stick together," Donnie promised. The use of Gregorach brought an extra gleam to Katie's eyes and she held her Bud up as if to make a toast. She caught and held Donnie's gaze, almost as if she was challenging him then, then used the Gaelic phrase that Donnie knew well. "'S Rioghal Mo Dhream!" Katie cried. Donnie watched as the gleam in her green eyes turned to pure fire and he smiled as he walked forward to 'clink' his coke against her beer. "My race is Royal!" Donnie answered her cry. "But there is a time and a place for that slogan and I don't think this is it." Donnie smiled as he realised he had just used almost the same words Alasdair had said to him back in 1603. Katie looked for a moment as if she might argue, but then shrugged and suggested they get the bowling over and done with. "If I don't need to wait until I'm drunk, we might as well put the bowling part of the night behind us," she suggested. Katie became less self-conscious when she quickly saw that Donnie was as bad at bowling as she was. Anyone watching them could see that the pair were simply having fun and neither came remotely close to a strike. When their time was up, they found a quiet table and both ordered something to eat. Katie had a simple salad and Donnie had chicken and French-fries. "I have to work hard to keep looking like this," Katie explained her choice. "You need to do more exercise," Donnie suggested. "By the look of you, lack of exercise isn't one of your problems. What do you do?" she asked, genuinely interested. "I'm mostly fit from working on my parent's farm and I was playing rugby," Donnie told her. "Of course that will change now that I'm here studying full-time, so I'm planning a detailed exercise routine. Hey, you could join me!" "I might take you up on that, particularly if it means getting to see what's under that shirt," Katie teased. Katie shared her first year experiences at Stirling Uni. and Donnie described what life was like on the farm. They talked a little politics and Katie was impressed that he was already a member of a political party. There was no mention of goddesses and they enjoyed each other's company. By the time they left AFM Bowling it was 22:45 and Katie had managed to squeeze in not four, but five Buds and had a mild buzz. Their conversation continued in the car, although it took an unexpected turn for Donnie. "You know, you're alright," Katie told him. "Why thank you, ma'am," Donnie laughed. "That's no small compliment coming from the girl who was calling me rugrat only yesterday." "No, don't twist it," she giggled along with him. "I mean, you're intelligent, funny and ... oh, I don't know ... experienced! That's it, that's the word I'm looking for. You might look young, but you act a lot more mature than your age. It's like you've been around, done things, yeh like you've experienced things, important things. When you talk you sound so confident in what you're saying. It's like a confidence borne of experience. Aw crap, I'm not making much sense, am I?" Donnie chose discretion and remained silent in response. A few moments later Donnie noticed that Katie had started to get fidgety. She was shifting around in her seat as if it was a hot-plate. "Are you okay?" he asked. Her pale complexion turned scarlet and Donnie saw that she was biting her lower lip. "I shouldn't have had that fifth beer; I really need to pee – like now! How far is the campus?" "It's still a couple of miles away, but I might have the answer," Donnie replied. In a matter of minutes Donnie pulled up outside his apartment and he rushed ahead to open the door, A frantic looking Katie pushed past him and Donnie just had time to point to the bathroom door. "It's in there." She didn't even close the door behind her and a moment later Donnie saw Rory walk past him with his ears up as he entered the bathroom to investigate. "Aaaaaaaaaiiiiieeeeeeeee! What the heck? Oh! Bad dog, you're a bad dog. You're nose is cold and wet and you gave me such a fright! Donnie, would you get this mutt out of the bathroom please?" "Rory! Tae me," Donnie managed to get out through his tears of laughter. The faithful Collie trotted over to his young master and stood so that Donnie could scratch his ears. It was fully ten minutes before Katie emerged from the bathroom, although Donnie had noticed the light go on and the door close after five. He assumed that Katie had freshened her make-up or gone through whatever strange ritual that women observed in there. When she saw Rory in the light, Katie's face lit up. "Aw he is so cute! I'm sorry for calling you a mutt; you are obviously a handsome and extremely well-bred dog. What's his name?" Katie asked Donnie. "It is a he, isn't it?" "Yes, his name's Rory." "So, like, you're living off campus so you can have your dog with you?" she asked. "Wouldn't have come without him," Donnie replied. "I don't blame you," Katie said, easing down onto her knees and gesturing at the collie. Donnie was surprised when Rory left his side and happily trotted over to the red-head where he enjoyed letting her scratch his head and behind his ears. "He likes me," Katie giggled. "It seems like it and he's not normally so quick to accept people." Katie was absently looking round the apartment as she petted Rory. "You've certainly got a lot more space here than you would have on campus," she observed. "Can I get you a coffee or something," Donnie asked. "Sure," she replied. "White, no sugar." Donnie made his way through to the kitchen and Katie stood to follow. Rory butted her leg with his nose in complaint that she had stopped scratching his ears and he followed closely on her heels. "You know I'm starting to see that you have hidden depths," said Katie from the Kitchen doorway. Rory nuzzled her hand to indicate she should return to giving him her attention and she giggled. Donnie looked over his shoulder to identify why she'd giggled and saw that the Collie was being a little demanding. That was so out of character. He thought about Katie's last comment. "Hidden depths?" he asked. "Well, getting a pass through first year – that means you're really smart. Being able to see past all those nasty comments about your age, the fact that you're already politically active and now it looks like you're not short of money if you can afford to live here rather than in the student accommodation. "Oh, and you have the Gaelic. You also know more than most about the McGregors it seems." Donnie focused on the last points she had made. "Why do people say that? For every other language you would just say – 'you can speak English, or French or whatever. Why do people say you have the Gaelic. And by the way, I don't have the Gaelic. I've probably used up most of the words I know during the course of today. "As for knowing things about the McGregors, haven't you got things a little back to front? Isn't it supposed to be the native Scot complimenting the American on learning a little of her family's history?" "Touché! But in my case I'm expected to know a great deal as I'm directly descended from McGregor Chief after McGregor Chief for countless generations." Katie grinned now as if she expected her revelation to be a source of some surprise – even excitement – but the grin faded when she saw almost a resigned look on Donnie's face. Donnie was tired after a long day or he would never have made the basic error that he did then. "Aye, I thought as much. As soon as I saw you. You look like a carbon copy of Katriona." Katie gasped. "Katriona? Katriona McGregor? My great-great-grandmother? How could you possibly know that I look like her?" Donnie realised his mistake. He wondered if there was something of the goddess' hand in it? Given how determined she was that he would be together with Katie, Donnie wouldn't put it past her. He shook his head as he decided he would have to push on and explain. "Oh, I know quite a bit about your family, Katie. I know that Alasdair of Glen Strae was betrayed by the Campbells and hung at the Mercat Cross. Fate allowed him to sire a child though before he died. I know that your great-great-grandfather was a drunkard and that he and his wife founded the town of McGregor in Iowa. "And yes, I do know that you are incredibly like Katriona ... although..." At this point Donnie broke off and hurried through to his bedroom. Katie stunned by everything that he was saying followed, almost as if she was in a trance. Donnie rummaged at the bottom of a cupboard and then gave a small cry of triumph. He stood and turned to Katie again. "Aye, you might look like Katriona, but can you make moccasins like she could?" He held out the moccasins that Katriona had made for him and, numbly, Katie took them. She turned them over in her hands. "Who are you? What are you?" she stammered. "Has your family not told you this story yet, Katie? The story about the man who came out of nowhere to drag your drunken ancestor, Alexander, out of the Mississippi? The stranger who turned up at Katriona's door with no trousers on and no boots? The same stranger who returned the true ring of the McGregors to its rightful owners after nearly 250 years?" Katie's eyes had grown wider with each element of the story that Donnie told. Her family had passed on this story through the generations and as the significance of Donnie knowing it sunk in, she felt herself growing dizzy. She tried to pull herself together. "His name was Dòmhnall, the stranger," she whispered. "Dòmhnall is Gaelic for Donald," Donnie replied and pointed again to the moccasins in her hand. Something else occurred to Katie. Some of the things Donnie had said at the start of the evening could now be construed as meaning so much more than she had realised at the time. "In the car. On the way into Stirling. You said that I shouldn't fight it. That I should just let it happen. Then you said that nothing between you and I could be a co-incidence. What did you mean?" she asked. Donnie locked eyes with the beautiful nighean ruadh. "If I hadn't nursed Alasdair of Glen Strae back to health so he could sire a child, if I hadn't saved Alexander from drowning in the Mississippi so that he too could have a family. Then in all likelihood you wouldn't have been born," said Donnie quietly. "I'm afraid we are destined to be together, Katie. That's the truth of it." His words sounded like a huge drum to her ears. They reverberated around inside her head, each word booming too loudly to let her think straight. And then she saw him step towards her. She didn't shy away and when his powerful arms circled her waist, the small spark that had ignited earlier when they shook hands paled before the storm of electricity that coursed through her entire body. "It feels so right! He is strong; I'm safe within his powerful arms. Can what he said be true? Are we destined to be together?" Katie's thoughts were lost then, as she felt Donnie's lips touch her lips. Everything else ceased to exist, other than the soft but urgent caress of his mouth on hers. The kiss seemed to reach out and touch her very soul and when it broke, she was able to answer her own question. "Yes, we will be together this man and I. Now and for always." There were no further words between them, but buttons were being loosened and clothes dropped to the floor. Katie was pleased when he sucked in his breath in sheer wonder when she was fully revealed to him. Her own first sight of his well-toned physique was certainly no disappointment either and then he swept her off of her feet and carried her to the bed. Even being crushed tightly to his sculpted chest felt right. "Donnie, I'm more than ready for you," she moaned as she lay on lewd display on the bed. "This first time there can be no waiting, I cannot wait a moment longer. Come into me, make me yours!" She saw his nostrils flare slightly for a moment and he looked almost feral. "Oh my god what a man, my man. Yes, my man!" Donnie connected to his gifts and heard an unexpected intrusion. "Yes, Dòmhnall. Now would be the perfect time to use my gift to the full. I did tell you that you would know when the time came. Enjoy it, Gregorach!" Donnie almost growled and he flipped Katie over onto her front. Kneeling on the bed behind her, he put a hand to either hip and lifted her easily until she was on her hands and knees. "Bred by a mighty stallion! Taken fully, owned and nothing spared," thought Katie. She felt his steely cock at the entrance to her already well lubricated pussy and then Donnie slammed it home until his balls beat a tattoo on her clit. There was no pause to allow her to adjust, just an immediate jackhammer rhythm that took Katie's breath away. He was seemingly tireless, remorseless in feeding her tight cunt with his ridged cock and after ten minutes Katie began to howl as her first climax sent her into orbit. Still Donnie didn't slacken, he was like a man possessed as he used Katie's hips for leverage and continued to stroke into her time and time again. Another fifteen minutes of her senses being overloaded with pleasure and Katie felt as if she was having one long continuous orgasm. "Let him come soon, if not, something is going to break!" As suddenly as he had started, Donnie stopped his rapid stroking. Katie was unsure if she was disappointed or relieved, but she had no time to dwell on the situation as she felt him lightly flip her over again. Now she saw a different Donnie. There was tenderness and love in his eyes. Katie sucked in her breath and then let it out in a long moan as she felt him begin to worship her vulva and tease her sensitive clittie with his tongue, mouth and fingers. She was no virgin, having had three sexual partners, but nothing Katie had experienced had prepared her for this. The torrid maelstrom of being taken, of being owned, followed by the gentle, loving attention to detail and sensuality – it was a heady, breathtaking mixture. Already she could feel herself responding to this gentler touch, these more loving caresses and incredibly she felt another series of orgasm wash over her. As she threw her head back to scream her release, Donnie glided up her body and she felt his still hard cock ease slowly into her pussy once more. Opening her eyes, Katie saw that he was watching her. It seemed he had been waiting for this moment, as he immediately began to slowly thrust in and out of her channel. Donnie smiled and moved his hands so that they had their fingers entwined together then he dipped his head to kiss her lips softly. This act of lovemaking (Katie somehow knew that word had been invented for what they were now doing) seemed to go on for hours. At last Katie felt the stirrings of something even bigger than she had experienced so far. She suspected that this climax would by overwhelming and she urged her man to finally give in and join her. "Now, Donnie. Now my love! Come with me, join me. Come with me noooooowwwww, aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" From somewhere beyond reality, Katie felt his man's essence fire deep within her contracting pussy. Her man had given her what she wanted. It was perfect in every way. Both of them fell asleep, Donnie still lying on top of her, but an hour or so later he roused her with a shake. Katie looked at him with a goofy smile, which he returned. "Isn't there someone you should phone?" Donnie asked. "You'll be missed, someone will worry." Katie didn't seem to hear Donnie's words. "And to think that yesterday I was sneering at you and calling you a boy," she sighed. "What was the word I was using earlier? Oh yes. Experienced, definitely experienced." She seemed to have the ability to purr like a cat and she was doing that now. Donnie shook his head and painted on a little-boy grin. "Sorry ma'am. You couldn't be more wrong. That was the first time for me. Now, phone someone and let them know you're okay and staying over somewhere. I'll get us a snack and some juice. I'm absolutely starving." Katie watched his naked back and tight ass heading for the kitchen and frowned. "He couldn't possibly be telling the truth, could he? A virgin couldn't perform like that. Oh god, you mean he could get better?" Donnie returned with a tray and set it on the bed. Katie had a mischievous look on her face. "You know, when the story of Dòmhnall is told, the little matter of you not having any trousers on when you turned up at the door seems to have been lost. Is it true?" She laughed when his face turned red. ------- Chapter 13 The 'morning after' first times can often be a barometer of how a relationship might go. In one sense Donnie and Katie barely knew each other, had only gone on a single date, yet in another sense their lives seemed intertwined over the centuries of the McGregor Clan's history. Whatever it was – the history, the chemistry between them or the work of the goddesses, there was no hint of awkwardness between them. Donnie was up early. He took Rory for a long walk, as he knew the Collie would be left in the apartment most of the day. After that he roused Katie. "I'm guessing you'll want to get back to your flat early to change clothes and stuff," he said. "Why don't you grab a shower and I'll rustle up some eggs and coffee?" "That sounds like a plan," Katie replied. She smiled at Donnie. "You know, I didn't tell you last night, but the main reason I turned up at all at seven was because you had the cojones to tell me to be there. I guess I found out just how big those cojones were, eh? God I can feel it, I'm not sure I'll be able to walk!" Donnie laughed. "Hit the shower, nighean ruadh. I'll get breakfast; we've got classes starting at 9:30." "Aw, is my baby embarrassed to hear me boast about his performance last night? Were you serious about it being your first time?" Katie asked. His grin belied the fact that there was any embarrassment. "My first, but certainly not my last I hope. Now, in the shower girl!" Donnie noticed that Rory was sitting beside the bed and Katie was idly stroking the Collie's head. "I can't believe how quickly he's taken to you." "Don't think that I'll be sneaking back into my flat to avoid being seen either, buster! What I said last night, about the girls - if they can't accept us going out together, then they're not real friends," Katie told him. "Shower! Now!" growled Donnie. "Oh, I love it when you get all masterful!" Katie giggled. ------- Over the next few weeks Beira's explanation for how the girls on the course had treated him were borne out. Once Katie had done the unthinkable by going out with Donnie, the others admitted that they thought he was something of a hunk too. "None of us would have had the nerve to go out with him though. How did you get over his age?" one of them asked Katie. "I didn't. You were there – he told me I was going out with him, I just couldn't refuse," she explained. Donnie had to admit that the change in atmosphere helped allow him to focus better on his lectures. He also found Katie's friends nice people once he got to know them. Katie was introduced to Heather and they hit it off immediately. Katie and Donnie shared details of their lives and got to know each other better, but surprisingly, Katie didn't ask him to explain how it was possible that he had met her ancestors. They quickly fell into a comfortable routine, including sex several times a week. Donnie even asked her if she wanted to move in with him. "You could still have your own space," he argued. "We'll set you up in the second bedroom so that we're not constantly on top of each other. Come on, Rory has already adopted you anyway!" Katie considered the offer seriously, but eventually declined. "Too much, too soon, too fast, my love. I want to be able to concentrate on my studies at least some of the time. We're good together, let's not push it too much," she explained. Donnie took her refusal without rancour – they saw enough of each other in classes and in the evenings – and he had to admit that he too needed time to study hard given his schedule. They also exercised together after Donnie worked out two routines for them. His obviously involved more than Katie's, but they shared gym and swimming time. All in all, things were working out just fine. ------- The next big event for Donnie was the SNP party conference in October. He had already carried out some work for the party at Stirling University, canvassing in support of an older student who was seeking election as an office bearer of the National Union of Students. This would be his first party conference however, and Donnie was looking forward to it. Each of the main political parties in Scotland hold a three or four day conference in the autumn every year. This year, 2010, was a little different though as it would be the last conference before the Scottish elections in May 2011. "You're so lucky to be going to a party conference," Katie groused. "Shit, you're even speaking at it! That, along with the work you do on the run up to the May elections is going to be invaluable in terms of helping with your studies." Donnie shook off her praise. "The speech is at a fringe meeting and I'm only getting to do that because I made a substantial contribution to party funds. As for the rest of it, if you joined a party, you could be doing the exact same. You know what they say, Katie? Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach!" "Take that back, toy-boy!" she cried playfully, throwing a cushion at him. "My younger sister is training to be a teacher!" "May the goddess help all of the young men of McGregor, Iowa," Donnie said seriously. "If your sister looks half as good as you do, those boys are going to be whacking off dreaming about her!" Having managed to keep a straight face throughout, Donnie dissolved into giggles when he delivered his 'punch-line'. "You are so sick, you know that? So bad. I've never thought about it that way though, and you're probably right. Jennifer really is hot, and those boys will be sporting wood for sure! Kinky, that's a very kinky thought! I'll have to remember and work that into the conversation the next time I speak to Jennifer." Donnie shifted the conversation back to the conference. "Why don't you come with me?" he asked. "I'm sure I can get you a pass. You'll be in at the start of the really interesting work – shaping the manifesto between now and March in time for the election." Katie liked that idea and she knew she would make a point of being there to hear Donnie speaking too. October 14 -17, Perth Concert Hall, Scotland Perth's Concert Hall was shrouded in huge banners of black and gold, the SNP colours, proclaiming that this was the 76 th annual conference. Donnie managed to find somewhere to park the car and then checked again that he had everything he needed – SNP membership card, conference security pass, conference handbook and confirmed access to the exhibitor reception. "Have you got your pass to get in?" he confirmed with Katie. "We can drop by my stand so you can see more of the details of what I invented." Having donated £250,000 of his profits from the energy licensing business, Donnie's company had space at the conference to sell its services to others. The donation had undoubtedly helped in having the party approve his application to speak at one of the fringe events too. £250,000 was the third highest single donation the SNP had received that year. With an election only 6 months or so away, Donnie's name was being discussed by the party leaders and they already knew quite a bit about him. Donnie couldn't attend all four days of the event – his studies just wouldn't allow for that, but he had agreed with Katie that they would make it for the opening day to hear the keynote speeches and then Donnie would be returning the following night to give his own talk. "There's a definite buzz about the place," Katie observed once they had gained access to the venue proper. "They're excited about the election," said Donnie. "We've had almost four years now of the first ever SNP Government in Scotland. Admittedly it's been a minority government, but the party are gearing up to fight harder than ever to secure another term. Having tasted power, all of these people want more of it." "So this whole event is an opportunity for the leaders of the party to put forward new policy ideas so that the rank and file members can debate them and have their say in the direction the party is going?" Katie clarified. "That's it in a nutshell," Donnie agreed. "Of course this year, the policies they agree are the ones they'll fight the election on. It's high stakes stuff and no one is better at it than Alex Salmond." Alex Salmond was the charismatic leader of the SNP and Scotland's current First Minister. Formerly an economist with one of the UK's leading banks, Salmond's instinctive political brain and his cheeky, witty, but razor sharp debating skills put him a cut above most of the other politicians in Scotland. He had two main character flaws though – because he was so much better than his opposition, he could appear smug at times in debate. And, for those who worked closely with him, he could also be a bully. "But he's in India, I heard him on the radio this morning," Katie queried. "Yes, he's in Delhi for the closing ceremony of the Commonwealth Games," Donnie confirmed. "It's important because India hands over to us as Scotland host the next games in 2014. The First Minister is going to address the membership via video-conference though, as I understand it." "How did you find that out?" Katie asked. "It was on the SNP website." "I didn't see it, and I was looking on there last night," she argued. Donnie laughed. "It's in the members section. You need to be able to log-in to see details like that." That afternoon, the young couple found themselves responding to Salmond's highly motivational and uplifting speech as much as anyone else in the Concert Hall. The First Minister rehearsed the SNP's record in government and took a swipe at the performance of the other parties, majoring on their failings in the UK parliament. He finished with a rousing call to arms. "Scotland needs the SNP – now more than ever. "We lost our independence as a result of economic mis-management in this country. The Darien affair effectively bankrupted us, but with England the prime mover in ensuring we couldn't trade freely with other countries. Nonetheless, it was the Scots who were bankrupt. "That economic crisis resulted in the Treaty of Union on 1 May 1707 and the loss of our independence. "Today the boot is on the other foot. Today the economic crisis that lies behind rising unemployment, crippling price increases and the collapse of our public services is down to the banks in London! The English based banks have bankrupted the country. "Let's fight to make that crisis the spur to achieve a vote for independence on 5 May 2011! "Between now and May I'm going to ask a lot of you. It is our duty to persuade our fellow Scots that only the SNP have the policies that will restore prosperity. Your job will be to convince them on the doorsteps across the country, our victory will be built on your success. Just remember... "With the SNP, Scotland WINS!!!" There was a standing ovation of course, despite the fact that Salmond was on VC from Delhi. Donnie and Katie didn't hang around but they enthused about the First Minister's performance as they drove back to Stirling. "Are you going to be that good tomorrow night?" Katie teased. "Ha! There's a big difference between a wet-behind-the-ears 17 year old speaking to twenty people and an experienced campaigner geeing up twelve hundred," Donnie replied. ------- Despite telling Katie that his speech was small beer, Donnie took the precaution of connecting to his gifts as they arrived at the venue. The fringe meetings didn't all take place at the main Concert Hall, and Donnie's was one of them. He parked in the car park of the Perth Ramada Jarvis Hotel. "How do I look?" he asked Katie. "Fantastic, an absolute hunk, but I'm biased. You do scrub up well though." Donnie had actually purchased a suit, shirt and tie especially for the occasion of his real political debut. They were a little early and one of the SNP organisers took Donnie through to the conference room to let him familiarise himself with the IT he would be using. "You've got a choice," the organiser explained. "You can use the podium with the built-in mic or we can fit you with a tie mic and that will let you move around. The technicians are at the back there and they can advance your visuals or you can use this to do it yourself." He held out a small remote that Donnie could use to control his presentation. Donnie opted for the tie mic and the remote. "Oh, just to make you aware, the First Minister has asked to join by video-conference. The camera for that is over there so you might want to keep that in mind when you're walking about," the organiser advised. "Alex Salmond?" Donnie asked, stunned by this revelation. "The very same. He asked us to set it up specially." Donnie made his way back to Katie, his mind in a whirl. He hadn't fully understood just how much his financial contribution meant to the party. He shared his news with the red-head and she hugged him. "Well news of how good you are must travel fast. I told you that first night we went out together," Katie enthused. "When you speak you just exude confidence. Go out there and wow them!" There was still half an hour before Donnie was due to go on, but already there were quite a few people milling about the hotel lobby. Donnie opted to make his way backstage to try and focus while he read over his notes one last time. Donnie scrolled through his visuals for his speech when he noticed he had a wireless connection – probably the hotel's service. Out of curiosity he checked to see what the time difference was between Scotland and Delhi. "Five and a half hours, Delhi is five and a half hours in front of us, I'm due on at 19:30, that means the First Minister has stayed up to 01:00 over there. Just what is going on here?" Despite being linked quite strongly to his gift from Tailtui, Donnie still felt butterflies in his stomach as 19:30 approached. An aide came to collect Donnie and she checked the wireless mic to make sure it was turned on and the volume was set sufficiently high. "Do you speak softly or loudly," she asked. "Softly," Donnie confirmed. The aide dialled the volume up slightly and then smiled at him. "Good luck," she offered. He heard his name being announced and the aide gave him a gentle push towards the stage. If Donnie had turned, he would have seen the girl was very nervous on his behalf. He was just about to find out why. What sounded like thunderous applause greeted Donnie's appearance on stage. He had to do a double-take as he realised it was actually no more than polite applause, but the reason it sounded so loud was that the conference room was packed! Donnie had expected perhaps as many as twenty people might turn up for his speech, but there were clearly over two hundred here. Once his eyes adjusted to the bright lights shining on him, Donnie received another shock. There was a flat screen monitor where the organiser had pointed out the camera for the VC unit. On the monitor was the smiling face of Alex Salmond and he was applauding along with everyone else. Donnie saw Katie sitting in the front row, but sitting alongside her were no less than five Cabinet Secretaries from the SNP Government. He recognised John Swinney, Nicola Sturgeon (Deputy First Minister), Kenny MacAskill, Mike Russell, and Alex Neill. The applause died down and Donnie realised he would have to start. "Goddess be with me," he thought to himself as he pressed the remote to bring up his first slide. The Energy behind Independence Scotland's recent history on energy Energy impact on Scotland today Opportunities for Scotland's future The case for independence "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for such a warm reception. Looking round I realise that I should have checked the programme for this evening. All of you, including the very well known members of the audience are clearly here for whoever is next on, but I hope I can deliver something to make you think a little before then!" Incredibly, Donnie heard the audience laugh at what they thought was a self-deprecating joke on his behalf. He put all thoughts of who was watching out of his head and began to pace the stage while he dropped into the presentation that he had worked so hard on. "I was always taught to make it clear at the start what I was going to talk about and then stick to that as much as possible. The title of my talk is up there for you to see, as is the territory I hope to cover. My aim is to try and convince you that our party needs to be more aggressive with regards to the independence question and I hope to set out why energy is a key element in the argument in favour of that. Twenty minutes. That's all I ask. Give me twenty minutes and then I'll try and answer any questions you might have. "Okay then, let's start here. Donnie thumbed the remote and a new title appeared on the huge screen behind him. He continued to pace slowly across the stage, making eye contact with members of the audience as he spoke. Scotland's recent history on energy "We're all aware of the discovery of oil in the North Sea. More hours have been taken up by the SNP bemoaning the lost revenue from our oil than most of you would care to mention." That brought another laugh from the audience. "The electorate didn't want to listen to us then. They were still locked in a perceived class war between Thatcher's Tory party and Labour and we weren't taken seriously. "As a result, the revenues – which should have helped to make the UK and Scotland strong were wasted on paying benefits for a generation that Margaret Thatcher consigned to unemployment and in covering the cost of industrial unrest such as the miner's strikes. Revenues wasted, I say. "Let's compare that to our neighbours in Norway where they established a social fund so they could invest oil revenues for future generations. They are building a legacy for their citizens, a legacy that will be important when the oil runs out." Donnie thumbed the remote again and a new heading appeared behind him. Energy impact on Scotland today "Despite the wealth that North Sea oil represents, what is the current situation in Scotland? What impact has our good fortune in being blessed with these natural resources led to? "Fuel prices in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland are significantly higher than the average in the UK. How can that be the case?" Donnie could feel the audience going with him, he could feel the mood in the room and he started to feed off of it. "And what about energy policy? Aye, there's the rub!" Donnie's quote from Hamlet didn't go unnoticed, but he carried on quickly. "We have a devolved parliament, but certain matters are reserved to London. One of those is energy policy. "The people of Scotland have long made it clear that we do not want nuclear energy. Yet despite that resistance, Westminster is determined to build new nuclear power stations. The First Minister – good evening by the way, Alex – has resisted those plans by using the powers that the Scottish Parliament does have." Donnie's cheeky aside to the screen where the First Minister could be seen had again raised a chuckle in the audience. "We are using powers for granting planning permission for building works to derail Westminster's plans for nuclear in Scotland. I'm sure you, like me will not stand by and leave a legacy of nuclear waste for our children to deal with. "Westminster and the nuclear lobby tell us there is no alternative. We need nuclear to reduce carbon emissions from traditional power stations and to generate the energy the UK needs. That's what they keep telling us." Donnie thumbed the remote. He was using body language and gestures to emphasise the points he was making, and it was clear that the audience liked his style. His next heading appeared on the screen. Opportunities for Scotland's future "I'm here to argue that that is not the case, not for Scotland. "Scotland has huge potential when it comes to sources of energy generation excluding nuclear. We have potential in wind, hydro, wave, and tide energy generation in particular. "Our heritage in leading the world in heavy engineering and shipbuilding may be gone, but the communities and facilities are still there if we want to become the world leaders in renewable technology. The research centres in our universities show that the inventive nature of the Scot is alive and well. I'm going to give you a break from my voice for a few minutes and just remind you of the inventive nature of the small country that is Scotland." Donnie walked to the side of the stage and thumbed the remote again. A series of names began to scroll onto the giant screen. James Watt – b. 1736 – perfected the steam engine William Murdoch b. 1754 – invented gas lighting Charles MacIntosh b .1766 – invented waterproof material – the raincoat! James Young Simpson b. 1811 – discovered chloroform James Young b. 1811 – discovered paraffin oil Kirkpatrick MacMillan b. 1812 – invented the rear-wheel drive bicycle Lord Kelvin b. 1824 – Father of thermodynamics John Boyd Dunlop b. 1840 – Invented the modern tyre Alexander Graham Bell b. 1847 – invented the telephone Alexander Fleming b. 1881 – discovered penicillin John Logie Baird b. 1888 – invented television George Bennie b. 1892 – invented monorail Sir Robert Watson-Watt b. 1893 – developed radar When the names were finished scrolling, Donnie prowled back to centre stage and paused for a moment as he made eye contact with various people in the room. He flicked the remote one last time and his final heading appeared. The case for independence "I hope you will agree that Scotland does have a record of punching above its weight. Our pure research is still at the cutting edge – although more funding would help improve it even more." Donnie gave a telling glance at the monitor where Alex Salmond's face could be seen listening attentively – his message clear – the government should do more in this area. "Scotland has huge potential when it comes to renewables; renewables also present an incredible opportunity. There are barriers to overcome though, and I would argue that our party in government has been too timid, too passive in tackling them. "We have the people, the skills and the mindset to exploit this opportunity, but even when we make progress, we find that our citizens in the north pay more for their electricity than anyone else and Westminster penalises us through high costs for linking renewable power into the national grid. "There are already arguments that current costs for linking to the national grid are discriminatory against Scotland. Yet this year we have seen plans to double or even treble these costs for the north of Scotland. That is lunacy! These costs have been devised by the National Grid, apparently on the basis of the costs associated with new transmission lines, but they severely disadvantage Scotland! "So, the Westminster Government is willing to give huge subsidies to nuclear, but allows Scotland's renewables to be choked at birth! "And this goes much further than just energy costs. Becoming the world leaders in the development of renewable technology could be a massive boost to Scotland's economy. Think of it if you will as being akin to the breakthrough made by Watt and the steam engine – that led to the industrial revolution and Scottish engineering being exported all round the world! We could be exporting our expertise again, we could witness once more our innovation and ingenuity leading to sales all round the world. You know we have the people to do this! "So what is stopping us?" Donnie paused and walked across the stage. By now he had the audience hanging on every word and all eyes followed his measured stride. When he thought he had waited long enough, Donnie resumed. "It's simple. We are not in control of the decisions that matter. Decisions being taken at Westminster are most certainly not in Scotland's interests. "Wasting North Sea oil revenue? Not in our interest. "Nuclear with its subsidies and waste? Not in our interest. "High fuel prices in the North? Not in our interest. "Killing our attempts at renewables, choking at birth the possibility of a huge economic benefit from leading on renewable technology? Most definitely not in our interest! "Ladies and gentlemen, the answer is equally simple." Again Donnie paused for a fraction of a second. "Independence! Let's take back control of our own destiny! "Thank you for listening." There were a few moments of silence and then the audience were on their feet applauding him. Donnie felt the rush of having generated such a response and he locked eyes with Katie, both of them grinning hugely. Eventually things calmed down and the same organiser from earlier appeared with a hand mic. "Ladies and gentlemen, Donnie indicated at the start that he would be happy to take questions. Before I throw it open, perhaps we should cross to Delhi to let the First Minister say a few words?" All eyes turned to the VC screen where Alex Salmond could be seen smiling. "Thanks, Glen. I should start by congratulating Donnie on a well-researched, well-founded and convincing presentation. If Donnie is illustrative of the talent coming through the party ranks then our future looks bright." There was clearly a time delay and the First Minister began speaking again but then stopped as he heard the applause, in response to his comments, over the link from Perth. When things quietened again, he resumed. "I totally agree with much of what you say, Donnie, and certainly we need to be making the same points that you have in the run up to May. I would take issue with one aspect of what you said though. I can't accept that we have been passive on this issue. We've ring-fenced significant funds to support the development of renewables and I know that I have personally spoken out about what you referred to as the 'lunacy' of the costs of connecting to the national grid." The audience shifted their focus to Donnie now to see how he would respond to the gentle rebuke from the party leader. Donnie seemed to gather himself and he turned to face the VC screen. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Alex, particularly as it must be what – 01:30 in Delhi?" he began. There were quite a few gasps in the audience and Alex Salmond's smile grew just a little tight. An opening like this was widely recognised as meaning the exact opposite of the words, and folk thought that Donnie was about to disagree with the First Minister. Donnie paused again before continuing. "I agree that the party in government has found the resources to support the necessary development of renewables. I didn't argue any differently. Although I made no mention of it in my presentation, your own personal efforts with regard to nuclear and in trying to oppose the crazy national grid issues have been immense." The audience and the First Minister relaxed somewhat on hearing Donnie's words, but then he made a final point. "The entire point of my presentation was about something else though. I said it at the start." Donnie turned and used the remote to flick back to his opening slide. The Energy behind Independence Scotland's recent history on energy Energy impact on Scotland today Opportunities for Scotland's future The case for independence When it appeared he began talking again. "The title of this presentation is The Energy behind Independence and when I talked about us being timid and passive, the point I was making was in regard to how forceful and direct we are in leading with independence as a policy. I'm sorry I didn't make that clear; I hope you will put it down to my inexperience. There's a good lesson for me to learn here I suppose." The response from the audience was thunderous though and Donnie glanced at the screen to see that the First Minister was nodding. 'Glen' bustled forward and took a few other questions from the audience which Donnie dealt with well. "Okay, one last question perhaps?" Glen suggested. A man stood towards the rear and an aide rushed across with a hand mic. "You're what? Seventeen, eighteen? What makes you an expert on these issues?" There was some immediate grumbling at the negative nature of the question and some recognised that the questioner was a journalist for a pro-Labour newspaper. Before Donnie could reply, Katie was on her feet and she spoke for him – probably saying something that Donnie wouldn't have. "He's an expert because he's the inventor of the tree energy concept at sixteen years of age and has already made millions from it. When he talks about the inventive nature of the Scots, he speaks from personal experience!" Even without a mic, Katie's voice carried across the conference room and the questioner suddenly found himself the object of much scorn. His question had annoyed the audience, but the fact that he had been put in his place by a young girl had pleased them no end and they cheered Katie's response. Things wound up at that point and Glen asked the audience to show their appreciation which they did. By the time that Donnie made it backstage, Katie was already there and she leapt into his arms. "You were magnificent, oh god you made me hot!" she whispered in his ear. Donnie swung her round, his own energy levels high from the buzz he was still experiencing. "Maybe I can sort that when I get you home," he replied. "Oh I'm sorry baby, but I've got a paper I've really got to finish for tomorrow," she replied. "Tomorrow though? You are going to get so lucky!" ------- Alex Salmond had been extremely impressed by the young man he had watched. What had started out as a tiresome but vital exercise in 'positive strokes' for a significant contributor to party funds had turned into a major surprise. Despite the time in Delhi, the First Minister was already on the phone to one of his special advisors. "What does he do for us? What are the plans for using him in the election campaign?" Salmond asked. "Well find out and call me back! No! Tonight!" he growled, when he was told that the advisor didn't know the answers to his questions. The return call was over an hour later and by then the First Minister was really tired and even more grouchy than normal. "He's not doing anything organised currently," the adviser informed the First Minister. "He is down to do leaflet drops during the election." "Leaflet drops! Are you taking the piss?! A self-made millionaire by 17 and we've got him down to post leaflets through letterboxes?! For god's sake get him fast-tracked and into something worthwhile. I'm back on Monday, set up a meeting with him at the first opportunity." The force of the First Minister's personality conveyed itself even over the miles from Delhi and the Special Advisor hurried to comply with his orders. ------- Despite being disappointed at having to drop Katie off on campus, Donnie was still buzzing when he made it back to his own apartment. Rory greeted him as if he had been gone for weeks and Donnie fussed over the Collie before putting out some fresh meat and biscuits. He was trying to convince himself to try and do some work when Beira intruded. "I thought you were very impressive tonight, Dòmhnall. I'm also pleased at the progress you have made with Katherine. Didn't you tell me you could never give your heart to someone like her?" Donnie winced. He remembered now that the goddess had warned him she would throw his own words about Katie back in his face. He tried to deflect the goddess back to his performance earlier in the evening. "Do you really think I did well tonight?" "Yes. But before you get your feet too far off the ground, I need to send you somewhere to perform a service. I warn you, Dòmhnall – be prepared, this is not for the faint hearted." Donnie didn't need to feel the stomach-lurching pull to know that the goddess was sending him somewhere. October 2011 Close to Camp Bastion, Afghanistan The first thing that struck Donnie was the smell. There was acrid smoke, the overpowering smell of gasoline and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. Then the heat hit him, heat from fires that were intensely hot from the fuel they were consuming. Patches of flame lit up the darkness with an eerie, flickering light, giving the impression of movement. Then he discerned a figure moving quickly between the fires. The figure was slight, willowy and he guessed it was a woman. Deciding to try and speak to her to find out where he was and what was going on, Donnie forced himself to move. Four steps later he trod on something and felt his feet slide from under him. He pulled himself upright and then looked down at what had caused the fall. "Goddess! Part of a body lay at his feet, only the scraps of uniform still attached to it allowing Donnie to identify the flesh as human. He looked around himself again and what he could see in the firelight suddenly made sense. "A plane crash!" Parts of the wreckage resolved themselves in Donnie's head. The tail and a small part of the fuselage were in one piece, as was the nose and cockpit. The main body of the plane was unrecognisable though, just so many pieces of scrap littering the ground. Two engines were still virtually whole and Donnie got the impression this had once been a four-engine aircraft. The quick movement of the figure drew his eye again and Donnie saw 'she' was shuttling from the cockpit to the largely intact tail. He started out towards her again, this time watching where he placed his feet. There were several fiercely burning fires in his way and as he skirted one, Donnie felt his stomach heave. The smell that he had struggled to identify was now quite obvious – it was burning flesh. As he drew close to the tail, he saw that the figure was actually a girl, not a woman. Donnie estimated that she was close to his own age – perhaps fifteen or sixteen. She caught sight of him and waved him over. "There are only four left alive," she told him. "These two and two more at the front. I've done all that I can to stabilise them, but their wounds are beyond my current skill levels. Something in her age, dress and what she had just said told Donnie that the girl was out of place. She was dressed in a vest top and Donnie looked quickly at her shoulder. There he could see the brand on her skin of a snake entwined round an egg. Making a quick guess, Donnie spoke to her. "Leave these two for me. Go and use the gift that Sironaidh has given you on the others. I'll come when I can." She seemed almost relieved and nodded before rushing off back through the flames towards the cockpit. Donnie focused on what he needed to do and saw he had two soldiers to try and heal. The first order of business was to link with his gifts and then probe each man to identify what was wrong with them. "Okay, this one has a ruptured spleen, internal bleeding and multiple broken bones. Oh, I can sense where the girl has already managed to stem some of the bleeding." He crawled over to the next man and laid hands on him to help sense how badly injured he was. "Collapsed lung and several cracked ribs, oh and a concussion that's given him some swelling on the brain." It was now a decision as to what injury to treat first, but Donnie had a flash of inspiration. Stretching so that he was in contact with both men, he began sending waves of healing energy and strength to both. His focus was on the spleen and remaining internal bleeding for the first man and the collapsed lung and brain swelling for the other. Donnie could feel that this was the most tiring healing he had ever tried, but he kept at it until the life threatening injuries were dealt with. Once he was sure both were out of danger, he made his way to the cockpit as fast as his tired legs would carry him. Incredibly, Donnie saw that the door into the cockpit was still in place although lying open. He pushed his way through and saw the girl hovering over a man in the right hand seat. He moved to the other seat and found an unconscious woman. When he laid hands on her, Donnie sensed that the construction of the seat had helped her avoid any serious injuries and she was merely unconscious. He turned to the other casualty. "I'm Donnie by the way," he told the girl and then reached out to touch the injured pilot. Donnie sensed a wound in the pilot's left thigh and could tell that he'd lost a lot of blood. He immediately began to repair the damage and heard the girl gasp in surprise. "You're healing him! I can feel it!" "You were doing the same," Donnie told her. "If you continue to serve your goddess well, then your gift will grow stronger and you will be able to do this. What's your name?" "Vivien. I'm Vivien Dunn. Will I really get stronger? I was so frustrated that I couldn't save the other two. Their injuries were too serious," she sniffled. "Hey, what you did probably did save them. You kept them alive until my goddess could get me here." "You mean they're not dead?" she asked, her surprise giving way to delight. "They should all be fine. Listen. Can you hear that? Helicopters coming to pick up where we left off," Donnie explained the sudden noise. "You served your goddess well tonight, but she won't want anyone to see you." Donnie still had some of his business cards for the tree energy business in the pocket of his suit coat. He pulled one out and gave it to her. "If you need help or just want to talk to someone, my number's on there. Good luck, Vivien." Donnie wasn't a moment too soon, as he felt the vertigo washing over him. Surprisingly, instead of finding himself back at the apartment, he seemed to be suspended in some kind of 'nothingness'. The goddess explained what was happening. "You did well, Dòmhnall and there will be fruit later from this night's work. However, I'm afraid you are not quite finished. I know you are tired from the healing, but you need to help an old friend who's in trouble. The reason I've stopped you here is important. When you arrive at your destination do not move until I tell you where to put your feet!" ------- October 2010 Sangin, Helmand Province, Afghanistan The first thing Donnie heard was a challenge and the ominous cocking of a rifle. "Fuck! Who the hell are you and where did you come from?" Donnie's suit, shirt and tie were so incongruous that it was probably the sight of them that delayed the young soldier from firing immediately. Another voice rang out, this one with obvious authority. Donnie recognised it. "DON'T SHOOT, DON'T FUCKING SHOOT! I know him, he's one of ours," shouted Archie Roy. "Archie? Is that you? What kind of a mess are you in this time?" Donnie enquired. "Don't move, old chum. We've wandered into a minefield. I was leading these guys to a target, but the minefield must have been laid since I came this way the last time," Archie explained quickly. Donnie saw the evidence of an exploded mine and a corpsman working feverishly on a young trooper. Ignoring Beira's warning, Donnie reached the corpsman's side and looked at the extent of the damage. The soldier's right leg was missing from the knee and there were shrapnel wounds gushing blood around his groin too. Donnie acted quickly given the amount of blood the trooper was losing. He turned to the medic and watched him finish pumping the shot of morphine into the casualty. "May I?" Donnie asked. The medic was already flapping at the extent of the injuries and he moved aside to make room for Donnie. The Gregorach reached out and laid his hands on the soldier's thigh. He could tell this was going to take a lot out of his already tired body, but an image of a yet another grieving widow somewhere drove him on. Archie's voice intruded on his focus for a moment. "I'm sorry to rush you, Donnie, but the noise from the explosion will have alerted the T-ban. We need to get moving!" "Goddess, I can't do this alone!" Donnie offered up a silent prayer, but got no reply. Sighing, he stood up. "Get him on my back," he ordered Archie. The injured trooper was hoisted onto Donnie's back and his hands secured with a plastic tie-wrap in front. Donnie hooked his arms under the soldier's thighs and tried to ignore the crushing fatigue of carrying the man while also continuing to heal him. "Okay goddess, I'm ready." This time Beira responded immediately. "Step exactly where I tell you. Right foot forward. Stop! Put it down. Left foot forward. Stop!" Donnie paused to turn and stare at Archie. "What are you waiting for? Step exactly where I step. Come on, move it!" The path that Beira guided him on was by no means a straight line and it was exhausting work. At last however, he heard her voice telling him they were clear. "You are clear of the mines, Dòmhnall. I knew you could do it if you dug deep enough. Make your farewells short, you need rest." Donnie let the soldier slip from his back onto the dusty soil, almost choking himself on the tie-wrap that held the trooper's wrists together. "We're clear he called," as he completed the last few minutes of healing the soldier required. By now Donnie ached and he was out on his feet. The medic could only shake his head when he saw the trooper's lower leg (minus sock and boot) had miraculously re-appeared. "Take care of him, he's had a lucky escape," said Donnie. "Archie, I have to go. Be more careful in future, I'm not always going to be around to save your ass!" The gruff SAS man hugged his young friend. "That's another one I owe you, Donnie," he grunted, then watched as Donnie shuffled off tiredly into the gloom. ------- Chapter 14 Donnie's radio-alarm woke him up at his usual time but he lay for a few minutes feeling his body complaining about the demands he had made on it the night before. Rory's cold nose burrowing under the duvet eventually got him moving and after a rejuvenating shower, he took the Collie for a long walk. When he returned, Donnie examined the suit, shirt and tie he had worn for his political debut and found them dirty, torn and badly stained with blood. "What's the price of a suit compared to saving the lives of those people? How many families have been spared the heartache of losing a loved one because of last night?" With those thoughts, Donnie felt pride in his service to Beira. "I wonder if I'll hear from Vivien? I didn't even have time to find out where she's from – although her accent was definitely Scottish. I wonder how she ended up in the service of her goddess? I'm also surprised that she was sent to help those people given her gift has a long way to go before it's fully developed. Last night must have been quite an ordeal for her too – I'm pretty sure she'll phone. In fact, maybe she was only sent there so I could meet her?" Surprisingly, the breakfast TV news wasn't reporting anything that Donnie could connect to his service for the goddess the previous evening and he assumed that the crash hadn't been shared with the media yet. That sometimes happened when families had to be contacted first. Morning lectures were routine and he shared one with Katie just before lunch. "Hi, hunk," she greeted him, bussing his lips with a brief kiss. "Wait for me at the end of the lecture; we're having lunch with Heather." Donnie felt pleased at that. It was good that his girlfriend and his other close friend got on well together and it had been several days since he had even had sight of Heather. After the lecture, Katie led off in the direction of the Atrium Student Centre which was at the heart of the campus. The centre featured a fast food bar, more substantial eatery, shops, library, cinema and theatre. It was a natural place for students to meet up with each other. "I said we'd get her in Haldane's" said Katie and they made their way into the large cafeteria. Heather had already purchased food and had grabbed a table by the floor to ceiling windows that gave a view to the outside. Donnie and Katie waited in line to get their own meals and then joined the bubbly blonde. They had barely settled themselves when Heather hugged Katie's arm and demanded she tell her everything about the night before. "So come on, tell all! Was our boy a hit?" "Oh shit, you should have been there, Heather. He's got all these bigwigs there to see him, including Alex Salmond, and he owned them! Totally awesome!" Katie gushed. Heather actually squealed when she heard that the First Minister had joined by VC and she ordered Katie to tell her all the details. Her questioning of the other girl seemed to have neither rhyme nor reason so far as Donnie could tell. "Did he talk to Salmond? "What did you let him wear? "Did the presentation go over well? "How good was his delivery? "Err, when you're finished dissecting my performance, can I just point out that I'm actually here," Donnie groused. "We'll get to you eventually," Heather dismissed him with a grin. "First we need to cover the serious girl stuff." "I'm telling you, he had them hanging on every word. He was prowling around that stage like a big cat and when he finished they were up on their feet giving him a standing ovation!" "Oh goddess, I bet you were one hot Chica!" Heather observed and Donnie shook his head as he saw Heather stroke Katie's bare arm. Donnie's mobile rang and he fished it out of his pocket. He looked at the incoming number and didn't recognise it at all. "Maybe it's Vivien?" He could see that the girls were ignoring him still, as they continued to rake over details of the night before. Donnie thumbed the key to accept the call. "Hello." "Hi, is that Donald McGregor?" "It depends who wants him," Donnie joked. "Oh, sorry. My name is Anthony Brown; I'm a Special Advisor to the First Minister." Unconsciously, Donnie sat up straighter in his chair for some reason. "Hi, Anthony. What can I do for you?" he asked. "The First Minister has asked me to set up a meeting with you. He's back in the country on Monday. Are you available anytime on Monday evening?" Donnie analysed that. Alex Salmond would only get back from India on Monday, but he wanted to see him the same day? "This is getting surreal!" he thought to himself. Trying to think about what he had on, Donnie covered his phone and interrupted the girls. "Katie? Have we got anything planned for Monday?" he asked. "No, why?" "Oh just someone asking me to meet up," Donnie replied. His answer seemed to satisfy Katie and the girls sparked up their conversation again. Donnie guessed it was getting rude when their heads moved closer together. He switched his attention back to the phone. "Sorry about that, I was just checking to see if I was free. I can make Monday night. What time and where?" he asked. "I can squeeze you in for half an hour if you can be in Edinburgh for 19:30. The FM has a dinner with some University Deans, but he could see you before that." Donnie wasn't surprised at the ad-hoc arrangement or the short amount of time he would have, the First Minister was a very busy man after all. "Where?" he asked. "Do you know the New Club?" Donnie had never heard of it and the Special Advisor explained how to get there. "Ask for me and I'll get you inside." Donnie wound up the call and turned his attention back to the girls. He caught the tail-end of a comment from Heather to Katie. " ... rubbing your hot little red-haired box? Is that how you fell asleep?" Katie was squirming, her face flushed. "He got you so hot you were dripping, weren't you? You thought about his hard cock and you fingered yourself raw!" Heather had her mouth close to Katie's ear and she was still stroking the American's arm. "Hey, are you coming on to my girlfriend," Donnie joked. When Heather turned her head slightly to look at him, Donnie gulped and realised his joke might have been misplaced. Her green eyes had that smoky look that he had seen before. "She is kinda hot. I'm just picturing her pretty little red muff and wondering if I've got her motor running yet," Heather breathed. Katie's eyes were slightly hooded and Heather was clearly getting to her with the little game she was playing. "You're serious," Donnie stammered. "What? You think the goddess hasn't taught me about how good girl on girl can be?" Heather teased Donnie. Another couple sat down at their table at that moment and it was as if a spell had been broken. Heather moved away from Katie a little and her tone became almost normal. "So what are you guys doing for Christmas and New Year?" Katie took a few moments to adjust to the dramatic change in atmosphere and conversation, so Donnie responded to Heather's question. "Katie's going back to the States for the holidays and I'm joining my family on the farm. How about you?" ------- Donnie wasn't particularly impressed with the New Club. There was certainly an olde worlde feel about the place – with wood panelling, antiques and huge oil painting that were several hundred years old. The view across Princes' Street Gardens and Edinburgh Castle was impressive, but the club seemed an anachronism. Anthony Brown led him through the club and into an ante-room. The First Minister was seated at a table going through a pile of papers with an aide. He looked up and acknowledged Donnie's presence then returned his attention to the work he was trying to get through. "He's running a wee bit late," Brown indicated, somewhat redundantly. Donnie kicked his heels for a further ten minutes before the aide gathered up the papers, put them in a sturdy briefcase and left the room. The First Minister indicated that Donnie should take a seat. "Sorry to keep you waiting," said Salmond. "It's not a problem, First Minister," Donnie replied. "Oh, so it's 'First Minister' now? You were quick to be familiar in calling me Alex on Thursday night!" Salmond chided him. "Ah, but I was playing a part on Thursday," Donnie laughed. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be disrespectful. That's not the kind of person I am." ""Alex is fine, believe me. I thought your performance the other night was admirable. Your delivery is good and there's no doubt you have a presence about you," said Salmond. "But that's not why I wanted to see you. "I want to offer you a place on the internal party focus group that we're using to help finalise our policies for the manifesto. I understand you're doing politics at Stirling, this could be a big help. I also happen to think you'll add value to the process. "You're down to deliver leaflets in the run up to the election, but I'd like to change that too. I'd like you to shadow me on the campaign. You wouldn't be doing very much, but it would be a unique insight, don't you think?" Donnie's head was spinning. What he was being offered seemed beyond belief. The First Minister mistook his hesitation as doubt and tried to calm the youngster. "You don't need to answer straight away. Take some time to think about it," he offered. Donnie suddenly worried himself that he was about to blow a golden opportunity and responded accordingly. "No, no. I'm sorry; you just took me by surprise. I couldn't turn down such a fantastic offer. Where do I sign-up?" he asked. Salmond smiled his satisfaction as he stood and offered Donnie his hand. ------- "He offered you what?" Katie asked, amazed at the opportunity Donnie was being given. "I know, it's hard to believe isn't it? I'll be right at the heart of everything right up to and including election night!" "Alex Salmond has certainly guaranteed you'll get your degree! How could you fail with experience like that?" Katie asked. They were in the VW Polo on their way to Craig Bheithe farm for Katie's first meeting with Donnie's parents. Donnie had also promised to take her to Ardbrecknish to see how the construction of the wheat facility was coming along. Douglas and Mairi McGregor took to Katie immediately and she was made to feel right at home. Rory was also like a pup again, being allowed the free run of his old haunts. Katie was impressed by the setting for the wheat facility, but the site itself looked like nothing more than a very big, deep, hole in the ground. Donnie could see that the first concrete had already been poured, but he too was disappointed in progress. "You are right, Dòmhnall. This is too slow. You need to advance the programme if each 'silo' is going to take this long. We need thirty such silos over the next four years. You will need to get more started now." Donnie was well used to Beira popping up inside his head and Katie didn't notice a thing. "Unfortunately, goddess, I don't have enough capital to accelerate the building yet." "I will consider this, Dòmhnall. The timetable cannot slip!" ------- The end of semester holidays arrived with no further drama for Donnie. Heather hadn't repeated her advances towards Katie and Donnie began to believe it had all been teasing after all. The goddess hadn't called on him either and Donnie began to worry that there was some timeline in play that he didn't know about and that it was slipping. There had been no media coverage of the plane crash incident either and no contact from Vivien Dunn. That continued to nag away at Donnie. The only non-routine things he had to deal with were several 'away days' with the SNP where Donnie took part in the work to begin to hone the policies that would go into the election manifesto. With studies over for the holidays, Donnie drove Katie to the airport to catch her flight home. They were comfortable enough as a couple that they didn't worry about the three week separation. Katie did cling a little and shed a few tears but there was no major drama. "Have a good Christmas and New Year," Donnie said as he gave her a final kiss. "Your present will be waiting for you when you get back." Arriving back at Craig Bheithe, Donnie had an immediate surprise. "We've swapped bedrooms," his mother told him. "I hope you don't mind, but it seemed silly to leave Kieran in the smaller bedroom while yours lay empty." Donnie just laughed and hugged his mom. "Of course I don't mind! He is the older brother after all and as you say, why waste all that space while I'm away at Uni.?" "We were planning on going out to bag a few pheasant tomorrow," said Donnie's father. "Want to come with us?" "Try and stop me!" Donnie replied, his enthusiasm quite clear. Donnie loved all things to do with the Earth, but unlike some of those 'activists' who joined various groups, he was neither a vegetarian nor against killing animals for food. Nature had her way of trying to maintain a balance and as far as Donnie was concerned, predation was part and parcel of that. He also enjoyed hunting and the prospect of being out in the cold December morning with his own trusty shotgun was appealing. That evening Donnie joined his father to watch the TV news. It had been a while since father and son had shared in this particular activity and Donnie could see that his dad was happy to have him back. The headline story on the news was like groundhog day from the year before – chaos caused by extreme cold and heavy snowfalls across Scotland. Donnie realised that Katie had been fortunate to find her flight had not been delayed. Douglas of course was just as scathing about the UK's inability to cope as he always was. The next item was about Wikileaks and in particular Julian Assange. Swedish prosecutors are seeking extradition of Assange to answer charges of rape. The Australian, Assange, claims he will not receive a fair trial in Sweden and that the moves are motivated by his connection to the Wikileaks organisation... "This blasted Wikileaks thing," Douglas started to rant. "I'm the first to agree that governments need to be held to account, but what they're doing goes too far. Assange is reckless and is putting the lives of decent people at risk!" Donnie let his father run down a little before responding. "We usually talk about world terrorism, dad. But what about state sponsored terrorism? The Wikileaks thing gave rise to a cyber attack on companies who were against Assange - VISA, Mastercard and other companies like Paypal had their websites attacked..." Donnie had clearly struck a nerve, as his father jumped in before he could finish his point. "Aye, I saw a programme the other day about cyberwar," agreed Douglas. "Apparently a highly sophisticated attack was launched on the software that runs the Iranian nuclear facilities. This wasn't one of those netbot/netarmy things you're talking about, this looked more like something a government would unleash – they speculated it could be the Israelis!" "That's what I was trying to say, dad!" Donnie agreed. "There is evidence of this kind of thing. Somebody tried to steal the UK's designs for Trident by posing as a defence contractor. We have 300 people rated as world class IT geeks in the UK, China is adding 15,000 every year. What does that tell us? "Every totalitarian state wants to control the virtual world. If there are any signs of protests amongst the population, Internet and mobile phones are immediately cut off!" Donnie finished. Douglas shook his head. "So much of life depends on computers and technology these days. If the rogue states or the terrorists can win that kind of war, we're in big trouble!" he said. Having had his say, Douglas relaxed and watched the remainder of the news. He had missed having these discussions with his son. ------- Douglas, Kieran, Donnie and Rory were up early and ready to shoot pheasant. "We can go down by the river and see if we can get some duck as well," Kieran suggested. "Mother will thank us for anything to help feed you two over Christmas!" Douglas laughed. "Here, take these notebooks and pens. Note down all the game you see while we're out. I'm worried that there's poaching going on, so it would be good to start some kind of count." "Poaching?" Donnie asked. "Donnie, people are really feeling the pinch. It's just as you predicted last year. Unemployment is climbing and price increases are making it tough to get by. Food is a basic requirement and if people can save money by poaching then that's what they'll do," said Douglas. They took the Range Rover and drove over to where the grain had been harvested in the autumn. It was amongst the stubble left in these fields that the pheasant could often be caught foraging. "Okay, you know this is important. Let's allocate fields so we don't end up shooting each other," Douglas ordered. They agreed defined areas and then split up to try their luck. "Be back here by 11:00 and we can decide whether we stay out or not," said Douglas. The two younger McGregors nodded their agreement. Donnie and Rory walked down the lane towards the first of his allocated fields. Rory had been out shooting before and he was on his best behaviour. Stepping through the gate, Donnie was unlucky to put up a brace of pheasant before he was ready. He cursed and noted the birds down in his notebook. There was better fortune in the next field. Donnie decided to avoid the gate and instead used his long legs to straddle the wire fence. He pulled on the bottom strand to make space for Rory and then advanced, keeping to the perimeter. When another pair of pheasant took to the air, Donnie was quick to raise his shotgun and 'led' their flight while he pulled the first and then the second trigger. The pellets did their job and both birds fell from the sky. Rory whined and ran a circle round Donnie as if in congratulations. Donnie paused to reload – it was unlikely, but he could put up more birds as he went to pick up his first two. As he bent to pick up the first bird, Donnie felt the vertigo that could mean only one thing. ------- December 2010 Gulf of Aden He felt himself overbalancing to his left and Donnie bent his right knee to compensate and restore equilibrium. His eyes took in the swelling seas and the bridge of a cargo ship. The ship was rolling, hence his difficulty in balancing. A man stood about five yards in front of him, facing away. Donnie could see a strap over his shoulder and the end of a rifle barrel wavering slightly as the man also tried to maintain his balance. "Don't hesitate, Dòmhnall. Shoot him! He's a Somali pirate and he will not hesitate to kill you and the crew of this ship. Shoot him! Donnie was frozen to the spot. The goddess was asking him to kill a man! He could see the pirate's black skin, the sun glinting off of his bald head. "Sometimes in life it is kill or be killed, Dòmhnall. You are of the Gregorach, a child of the mist. Shoot him before he shoots you!" Still Donnie didn't move. The pirate moved forward a step, as if something had attracted his attention. Donnie looked beyond him and saw another man roughly prodding what could only be crewmembers towards the ship's superstructure. Presumably the 'prodder' was another pirate. The second pirate glanced back and must have caught sight of Donnie behind his 'mate'. Some signal passed between the two pirates and the man closest to Donnie began to turn. The movement seemed almost like slow motion to Donnie. He could see the rifle in the pirate's hands swinging towards him and at that point Donnie snapped out of his stupor. In an instant the shotgun boomed as Donnie fired both barrels. That close, the blast knocked the pirate off of his feet. Donnie dropped and rolled behind some nearby storage bins. "Can you at least tell me how many there are?" he asked the goddess. "There were three, now only two remain." Belatedly, Donnie remembered to reload the shotgun. He knew roughly where one of the remaining two pirates was – herding the crew that he had seen moments before. It was risky, but Donnie began to run forward in a crouch, moving parallel to where he had last had sight of what he was now thinking of as his quarry. The pirate was hampered by trying to keep his captives moving and Donnie quickly caught up and then got ahead. He took up station between two large containers and waited, his timing had to be spot on now. As the crew stumbled past, Donnie let the pirate draw level and then fired both barrels again. This time there was no hesitation. He called to the crew and gestured for them to join him under cover behind the containers. The men had a Mediterranean look about them. "Can you speak English?" Donnie asked, quickly reloading the shotgun once more. One man held his hand up. "Do you know where the other one is?" Donnie questioned him. The sailor indicated the bridge with a jerk of his head. "Here, take this. Try and stop any other pirates coming aboard," Donnie ordered, handing over the rifle the second pirate had been carrying. There was no real cover on the approach to the bridge, so Donnie sprinted for the door as fast as his legs would carry him. Once he was up against the bulwark, Donnie was glad he was connected to his gifts as he had never been so scared in his life. There was in all likelihood an armed pirate beyond the door he was reaching for. He flung the door open and took the quickest of glances inside only to see the third pirate holding an automatic rifle to the captain's head. "Shit! Shit, shit and shit!" Donnie heard a guttural voice and he took another glance round the door frame. The pirate's sign language was good enough to tell Donnie to give up his weapon or the captain was a dead captain. Pulling himself back outside the door, Donnie was forced to decide whether he should comply. "Will he really shoot the captain in cold blood? Don't be stupid, Donnie, of course he will" Lowering the barrels of the shotgun, Donnie stepped onto the bridge. The pirate indicated that he should lay his weapon on the floor and Donnie bent over to comply. The thud on his head caused Donnie to collapse altogether and he fought to maintain consciousness. "Use the healing power, Dòmhnall!" Donnie heard the goddess' voice as if it was coming from some distance away, but he thought he understood and willed himself to re-link with his gifts. Donnie's head cleared quickly and he felt things returning to normal. He knew he was lying on the floor of the bridge and guessed that the dusty boot next to his arm belonged to the pirate. "No! Use the healing power, Dòmhnall!" The goddess' voice confused Donnie, as he had already used the gift. Something clicked in Donnie's head and he let his hand flop over until it was barely in touch with the dust covered boot. Now linked to the pirate, Donnie fed wave after wave of energy from his gifts as quickly as he possibly could directly into the man's heart. The pirate collapsed almost immediately and Donnie continued to bombard his heart until it literally burst. When he sat up, Donnie could see that the captain was looking at him in astonishment. "What did you do to him?" he asked, his accent Scottish. "I think he must have had a bad heart," Donnie replied. "You were slow! Find a quiet spot so I can send you home." Donnie frowned, it was unusual for Beira to criticise him. He thought it best to do as she had asked without any delay. He stood up, grabbed his shotgun and extended his hand to the captain. "Good luck, captain. I hope you have no further problems." Making his way back on deck, it wasn't difficult to find some concealment and the goddess transported him home. Rory was sitting patiently waiting for him and Donnie sat down in the stubbly field. Safely home now, the enormity of what he had just done hit home. "I've just killed three people." "Dòmhnall, this was necessary. You will be in similar situations in the future and you needed this experience to allow you to come to terms with it." "Enough! You're always doing this. Testing me on something, sticking me somewhere with no explanation, giving me new experiences. Tell me what's going on? What does the future hold? Why haven't I seen anything about the plane crash? Why aren't you just dealing with all these things yourself?" Donnie felt a wave of something from Beira. It felt like ... sympathy! "I understand your frustration, Dòmhnall, but the time isn't yet right to reveal the future. At least I'm working on getting you more capital for building and I can clear up the plane crash. Look at the date." Donnie saw the front page of a newspaper in his head. The headline shouted about an RPG attack on a troop transporter. He focused on the date at the top of the front page – October 2011. "It's in the future?" "Yes, Dòmhnall. It has yet to happen." "Wait! Don't let the newspaper go!" Donnie hunted until he found the notebook and pen his father had given him that morning. He focused on turning the pages of the paper in his head, scribbling down information that might be useful. He found the entertainment pages and copied down the winning numbers for a whole range of lottery games. He found the business pages and copied prices for shares, stocks and commodities. Eventually he turned to the sports pages and copied results from a whole range of sports. "I think I've got an answer to the funding issue," he told Beira. ------- Chapter 15 Donnie argued with the goddess of course – about stopping the attack on the plane - but she told him that it was something that just had to be. Donnie was unhappy about her response to say the least. There had also been some soul-searching for Donnie before deciding to use the future information to generate money. Uppermost in his mind was whether it was morally right to use the knowledge to do this. Was it dishonest? He eventually came to the conclusion that having access to the information was fortuitous, but not dishonest. He could see no strong argument against using it. Who would lose out? Other gamblers? Other investors? The bookies? Donnie decided that all of them played the odds and knew what the risks were. In his case, the risks could be reduced to zero, but he believed that wasn't dishonest. With his conscience clear, Donnie analysed what he had jotted down in the notebook. The date on the newspaper Beira had shown him was still nine and a half months away, but there was something that Donnie could use his information for immediately. Going online, he checked the current values of the various stocks, shares and commodities he had noted down. Comparing the current values to those in October 2011, he was able to identify where the opportunities lay to make investments now that would make some big returns over the coming months. The gains to be made were mostly modest, but two of companies showed a huge rise and Donnie guessed that they must be due to make major announcements about something – a new product or discovery – over the coming months. Things were different, however, when it came to futures and commodity markets. Donnie was actually dismayed at just how much prices for certain things were going to increase. The price of oil was set to rocket as was the cost of things like cocoa beans. "I bet if I was to map the countries where these things are produced I could forecast where there's going to be turmoil over the next nine months," Donnie thought to himself. Donnie had also noted down how much the payouts had been on the four lottery competitions where he had written down the winning number. The UK Lotto paid out £6m, Euromillions had been a 'rollover' and paid £120m, the Irish lottery had paid out £5m and the Spanish lotto a further £60m. I should buy six tickets with the winning numbers for each lottery. That way if someone else happens to win, I'll still get the vast majority of the prize money with six shares to their one. A cool £191million - not bad!" The sports pages had yielded a positive goldmine of options for generating revenue. As well as noting down the results for all of the horse races, football, rugby and even cricket matches, Donnie had skim read a number of the reports and picked up some other little gems. A reference to Novak Djokovic had referred to him as the 'current Australian Tennis champion'. In football, a team in England and one in Scotland were described as 'current title holders' and in cricket, an article had made reference to the English team as having won the cricket world cup. Donnie knew he would have to wait some time before he could lay bets on the individual races and matches, but the other 'big' events hadn't happened yet either. The Australian Open tennis started in mid January. The football season ended in May and if he remembered rightly the cricket World Cup was due to take place in March. Maths had always been something that Donnie liked and a notion overtook him now to check the bookmakers' odds for these four outcomes and then to calculate how much he would win for a £10,000 stake on an accumulator bet. It didn't take him long and the result - £20.8million – was staggering. "Whoa! I guess it would be a bad idea to put that down as a bet with a single bookie. I'll have to make a number of bets, with smaller stakes, and spread them around. When we get to October, I'll put the other bets on as accumulators too and spread the pain around!" Fortunately for Donnie, the explosion in online betting companies would make such an approach relatively straightforward. Once he had reviewed all of the various income possibilities, Donnie had a fair idea of how to proceed. Apart from £10k, the vast majority of the funds he currently had available would be used to buy stocks, shares and commodities. The £10k would be the stake for his first bet on the 'big' events. When the first bet paid off in early May, he would use the winnings to step up the building work at Ardbrecknish. It was a gamble as to what would happen to the stocks etc after the date on the newspaper – so Donnie would take no risks and sell them all on that date to realise the gains he had calculated. Once the winnings from the October bets and the various lotteries were all in, he would have more than enough money to play with. With the plans for capital funds largely dealt with, Donnie now turned his thoughts to something else that he had picked up from the newspaper the goddess had shown him. There had been another article on the front page that he had looked at, another article besides the coverage of the attack on the troop transporter. This second story covered the introduction of new legislation by the Scottish Government – an SNP Scottish Government! That meant of course that the SNP were going to win May's election – another opportunity for a winning bet thought Donnie. His quick scan of the article had highlighted the fact that the SNP had swept to victory on the back of a campaign that emphasised the need to reform banking and to safeguard public services. "I certainly can't disagree with that and I've been telling the party they should go after our opponents on just those issues. I need to make sure and stress both at the next focus group away-day." ------- The holidays at Craig Bheithe farm had been good overall for Donnie. The weight of killing three people had receded somewhat, helped by just being amongst his family in the very familiar surroundings. That allowed him to relax and enjoy himself. He did some cross-country skiing with his brother, continued to watch and discuss the news with his father and generally just got away from hard work for a few weeks. By the end of the two weeks, however, he admitted to himself that he was starting to miss Katie and he was glad it was only a week before she returned. Packing his things, Donnie thanked his parents for a wonderful break and drove himself and Rory back to the apartment in Bridge-of-Allan. He had another SNP focus group that week, this one at the Inchyra Grange hotel near Falkirk. Donnie was focused on the future knowledge he had about the election and he was determined to try and influence things so the party would campaign on bank reform and public services. The afternoon session gave him an opportunity when one of the other members of the group, Daryl, made a comment about the austerity measures being brought in by the UK Government. "My parents taught me that if I wanted something, I should save up and buy it. If I couldn't afford it, I did without. Maybe the country as a whole should get back to that way of thinking," Donnie suggested. "That's so simplistic a view it's childlike! The banks and lending are the things that keep the country's economy going," Daryl shot back. Donnie was surprised that a member of the group would be so aggressive and rude, but he wasn't about to let the matter drop. "Okay, explain to me how that works? Who do the banks serve?" he asked. "Their shareholders of course," sneered Daryl. "Given his attitude I might end up enjoying this," Donnie thought. "But the figures reported last week by one of the big three banks showed an increase in profits of £6.5billion over last year. £5billion was paid out in bonuses to bank staff and there was no dividend for shareholders," Donnie pointed out. "That doesn't sound to me as if the banks are working for their shareholders. Who is taking the risk? If the bank fails, the shareholder loses their investment, what does the employee, the investment banker, lose?" "That's plain silly, if the shareholders are not satisfied with the management of the bank they can remove them or simply sell their shares!" Daryl scoffed. Donnie shook his head sadly. "Now who's being silly? Sell their shares at today's prices? Come on, get real," he challenged. "Look, the banks have to pay big bonuses. If they don't, those staff will be lured away by other banks," said a slightly less sure of himself Daryl. "You know, every time I hear bank bonuses being debated someone uses that line. I've just explained that these people are generating huge profits – not for the shareholders, not for the bank's customers, but for themselves! "If the government doesn't have the balls to stop this – especially now -then that suggests to me that the bankers are beyond control. We've just been through a global economic collapse – caused by these self same bankers – yet while everyone else pays off the loans needed to bail them out – people losing their jobs, pay cuts, public services shrinking – these bastards are already paying themselves bonuses again. What's worse is that they can't see why the public are furious about it – because they don't think it's wrong! They believe it is their due!" said an impassioned Donnie. Daryl visibly wilted under Donnie's arguments, but had one last attempt at defending his position. "If the banks weren't there, who would provide businesses with the funds to grow? Who would back the economic recovery?" "Hmmph!" exclaimed Donnie. Everyone looked at Donnie in surprise. It wasn't like him at all to make such a dismissive noise. "That will be the banks who are asking small businesses to pay exorbitant interest rates for loans when the base lending rate has been at 0.5 percent for how long? Have you been listening to these small businessmen? They can't afford the loans and the banks know it! "The banks don't want to lend. They're rebuilding their balance sheets. They're taking ludicrously cheap money from the Bank of England through quantitative easing and charging people through the nose to borrow it! "The banks are providing the funds for the recovery my ass! The banks are busy lining the pockets of their stupendously overpaid investment bankers as usual!" Donnie finished. Donna, another of the group, tried to smooth things over by changing the point of debate. "So are you saying that we should put banking reform high on our list of priorities for the campaign?" she asked. "Yes, of course I am," Donnie answered. "But that's a matter for the Westminster Parliament, we can't do anything about it here in Scotland," Daryl protested strongly. "Exactly! That's the point. The SNP are the only mainstream party that is devoid of blame here. The Scottish Labour party are tainted because it was a Labour Government in power in London when the collapse happened. "The Scottish Conservatives and Scottish Liberal Democrats are tainted by the fact that their parties have formed a coalition Government at Westminster now and they have done nothing to address the bankers so far as the electorate is concerned. "The SNP can point to the fact that we have played no part in any of that – BUT – if we were independent then we would reform banking!" Donnie concluded. Daryl looked sheepish again at having missed the opportunity to use the banks to promote independence. "Look, let's role-play a live debate on TV," Donnie suggested. "Donna, you be nasty old Jeremy Paxman, the interviewer out to make me look stupid." The group were energised by the idea and gathered round Donna and Donnie. "So Mr McGregor, how do you defend the SNP's record on education? Teacher numbers are falling, class sizes are rising and results have flat-lined," accused Donna. "It's a disgrace, Jeremy. You are well aware that the SNP gave a commitment on teacher numbers and to reduce class sizes. Unfortunately, Labour's incompetent economic performance in government and now the coalition's weak response to the banks means that public sector funding has seen the most swingeing cuts in living memory. In those circumstances, we have been forced down a different path. "Now, if the SNP had those fiscal powers, we would be reforming the banks as a priority. An end to shameful bonuses. Break up the large banks. No more guaranteed bail outs at the public's expense. Responsible lending to people and business. The savings we'd make would allow us to safeguard our public services, to honour our pledges on teacher numbers and class sizes!" Donnie finished. "What about economic performance here in Scotland? It's worse than elsewhere in the UK," Donna attacked. "Yes, Jeremy. Scotland's economy is more heavily dependent on the public sector than elsewhere. It's inevitable when the Conservatives and Liberal Democrats announce measures to cut 500,000 public sector jobs that Scotland will be hit hardest. But they know there is an alternative. If they would only tackle their friends the banks, the public loans could be repaid quicker and public sector cuts wouldn't need to go so deep," Donnie answered. Donna was really into the role-play by now and she prepared to fire her next question. Donnie laughed and held up his hand to call a halt. "I think you see the point," he laughed. "No matter what the question is, you can turn it round to the banks and public sector cuts." Within twelve hours a video of the session was delivered to Alex Salmond and the First Minister watched it with interest. ------- McGregor, Iowa January 2011 McGregor was only a small town, with a population of less than 1,000, significantly down on its peak of over 5,000 during the late 1800s. Ironically, the town's residents were now mainly of German descent, with ethnic Scots accounting for only a tiny number. Katie and her mother were drinking coffee in the small shop on Main St., opposite the tall Masonic Block building. "You're certainly happier than I've ever seen you," smiled Rose McGregor. She studied her daughter over the rim of her coffee cup. What she had just said was true. Katie positively glowed, especially if she happened to be talking about Donnie McGregor. There was a bright gleam in her daughter's eyes and her spirit seemed to be soaring high. "I'm happy for you, but I just can't help worrying too," Rose added. "Mom! Stop it, there's nothing to be worried about," Katie replied dismissively. "But he's so young, barely seventeen, and it's happened so quickly," Rose persisted. "When you meet him you'll understand," Katie argued. "He's far more mature than his age might suggest. He's super intelligent, confident but still modest somehow, and he's a perfect gentleman. Oh, and did I mention he was fit? Yummy! Anyway, given his links with our family and why those happened it's pretty much a done deal." Katie had of course related what Donnie had told her on their first night together. Like any protective mother, Rose had at first been sceptical, believing that Donnie was some kind of scam artist. His knowledge of the story that had been handed down through the generations was too detailed though and she had eventually come to accept he was somehow tied to Katie. "Doesn't it freak you out just a little?" Rose asked. "I mean, all these years we've believed the mysterious stranger only existed to return the ring of the McGregors. Now we find the stranger himself and he tells us it was all about keeping the McGregor line going so that you could be born and he could meet you. Don't you find that even a little ... oh I don't know ... excessive?" "Aw, mom! Don't you think it's romantic? Twice now he has travelled back in time and put himself in danger just so he could eventually meet me! He's adorable. He's masterful. He's a hunk. He's everything I could wish for in a man." "Okay, okay, I get the picture," Rose laughed. "You've always been a smart one, Katie. Since your dad died five years ago, you've basically looked after yourself and I always trust your judgement. I trust you in this too and you have my blessing to do what you have to do. Just promise me that I'll get to meet Donnie before the wedding." "Yesssss!" Katie squealed, punching her fist in the air. ------- Donnie had checked online to find out whether Katie's flight was subject to any delays and timed his arrival at the airport accordingly. Entering the terminal building, he was met with scenes of chaos. People were queuing, people were mobbing information desks and families were literally sleeping on the floor. The huge arrivals/departures board was littered with entries against flights that simply noted CANCELLED and nothing else. Donnie quickly scanned down the arrivals until he found Katie's flight number and saw DELAYED with an ETA now one hour later. His feelings of disappointment were quickly pushed aside when a woman carrying a young baby approached him. She looked to be in her late twenties/early thirties and was cute in a kind of understated way. Her sandy brown hair looked like it needed a comb through it and overall she gave the impression of being stressed. "Listen, I'm sorry to be a bother, but I really need to change Alishia and feed her. Could I ask you to keep an eye on Alan for me?" the woman asked. She was pointing to a boy of about eight or nine and Donnie could see in her eyes that she was desperate for him to agree to help. Knowing that he had some time to kill anyway, Donnie smiled and said he would watch over the boy. The woman thanked him and dashed of, presumably to some facility for mothers. Donnie approached the youngster, ensuring he was smiling and pointing at the back of the rushing mother. "Hey, trooper. Your mom asked to keep an eye on you for a few minutes while she deals with your sister. I'm Donnie, by the way." All he got in return was a surly expression. "Now I'm sure that your mom has taught you better manners than that," Donnie suggested, still keeping his tone very light. "She told me your name was Alan. Alan what?" "McStay," the boy answered. "Hey! Would you believe that? We could be related," said Donnie, putting some excitement into his voice. The boy was still wary, but Donnie could see that he was also now intrigued. "What? You mean you're name is McStay as well?" asked Alan. Donnie shook his head, but kept smiling. "No, my name's McGregor, but sometimes a name isn't what it first appears," he said. "Like what?" "Well people called Smith originally took their name from their profession – blacksmith for example. There are others like that. Fletcher is another, or Archer or Forrester." Donnie paused to check that Alan was still interested and paying attention, which he was. "Then there are names that come from who the original member of a clan was. You know that Mac or Mc means son of right?" Alan shook his head in the negative, but was clearly lapping up the lesson, "It does, it's Gaelic. So McGregor means son of Gregor and Gregor was supposed to have been the one who started our clan." Including Alan in the McGregor story had the youngster captivated now and Donnie carried on. "There's lots more of course – MacDonald meaning son of Donald and so on. When the Vikings started marrying the native Celts, we started getting the son bit at the end of the name so instead of MacRobert we could also have Robertson." "But how does that explain how we might be related?" asked Alan, fully at ease with Donnie now. "Ah! Some names have an even more impressive story. You see, 400 years ago when the clans were fighting each other for land, the Campbells persuaded the King to make all of the McGregors outlaws. A law was passed and the members of the clan weren't able to use their name. They tried to get round it by using the names of clans they were friendly with or in some instances they made up new names." "So one of the names was McStay?" Alan asked eagerly. "No. Your name is one of the best of all of them. The McGregor name was proscribed for nearly two hundred years. To call yourself McGregor was a hanging offence. So the McGregors used a variety of names, but one group refused to make up a new name or to use the name of another clan. 'McGregors we will stay!' was their cry and so they became known as the sons of stay or McStay and they were the fiercest, loyalist McGregors of them all!" Donnie finished his story. "Bravo! Even I didn't know a lot of that," gushed Alan's mother who had returned without Donnie realising it. Donnie looked up in surprise and then laughed at the woman's response. "Given the way we have been persecuted down through the ages, we the Gregorach need to stick together!" Donnie declared and he took Alan's bony arm in a warrior's handshake. "Listen, I can't thank you enough for that. We've been stuck here for hours already and the baby was driving me to distraction. I didn't realise I had picked a storyteller when I asked," she laughed. "Sorry, I didn't even have the good manners to introduce myself before imposing on you. I'm Carol, Carol McStay." Donnie checked the time and saw he still had quite a wait before, hopefully, Katie landed. He started to be polite by just having a conversation with Carol, but that soon turned into something else! "So where are you trying to get to?" he asked. "New York," was Carol's answer. She gestured at her two children. "My husband – their father – deserted us and I'm pursuing him in the courts for maintenance. Meantime things are pretty tight and that's why we're still waiting. I had to book with one of those budget airlines, but it seems as if their planes are being bumped in favour of the bigger carriers." Donnie glanced at the board and saw that there was evidence there to back-up her claim. "They shouldn't let them do that," Donnie sympathised. "Oh, I'm an accountant, so I know exactly what is driving decisions by the airport today," Carol grumped. "You will soon be in dire need of a good accountant, Dòmhnall. I can tell you that Carol is very good at what she does. She's also a hard worker and honest. Because of the children, she can only work part-time at present. If you included accommodation at the Ardbrecknish site as part of her employment package, that would no longer be a problem." Donnie was actually amused by the goddess' intervention. "And why won't it be a problem?" "Because there will be a crèche and a school on-site of course." This was the first Donnie had heard of such facilities, but he knew better than to argue with Beira. He had an idea that appealed to him and dug out one of his business cards. "Look, Carol, I'm going to need a good accountant in the near future ... what?" Donnie paused given the sceptical look she was giving him. "Don't make assumptions just because of my age!" he cautioned her before continuing. "Here's my business card. Why don't you get in touch when you return from the States? Meanwhile, as a sign of future benefits, but mostly because you don't believe a word I'm saying, let me upgrade your flights to British Airways." Her scepticism was replaced by disbelief, but Carol followed when Donnie took control of the trolley with her luggage and headed for the BA Executive desk. "Can I have one adult and two children business class to New York on the first available flight, please?" Donnie ordered. "There's no charge for the baby, sir," the stewardess informed him. Carol had to hand over all of her paperwork, but it was all surprisingly easy and the next flight left within the hour. Her luggage was tagged and travelled along the conveyor belt until it vanished behind a curtain. "Enjoy your flight, madam," smiled the stewardess handing over the tickets. Walking away from the desk, Carol seemed to snap out of the trance she was in. "If you think you had to do that to prove something, then you're wrong," she said. "I'm down on my luck, but I don't need charity." "That wasn't charity," Donnie grinned. "That was an investment. Besides, I've just explained to Alan here, we Gregorach need to stick together. Now, you'd better hurry and get through to departures. I hope your trip goes well, these kinds of things are never easy." Donnie bent and kissed Carol's cheek then turned to young Alan and bumped fists with him. "You look after your mother, Gregorach," he cautioned, then flipped a salute as he walked off. ------- Katie held back watching Donnie see the woman and her children on their way. She saw the hero-worship on the young boy's face, as he kept turning to follow Donnie's progress through the terminal. Katie didn't feel any concern. She had no doubt that Donnie had just done something worthwhile for the family, that was the way her man was put together. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him recognise her in the crowds and she dropped her bag anticipating a hug. His arms wrapped round her and she realised she felt truly safe for the first time in three weeks. She felt his nose burrowing into her hair, as he breathed in her unique scent. Then she heard his voice whispering in her ear. "Oh my beautiful nighean ruadh! I've missed you more than words can say. I've looked everywhere for you these last few weeks, but sadly, I could only find you in my dreams. Now you have returned to me everything that I hold dear, thank you my love." Katie could feel herself melting at his words, but didn't try and outdo him in his romanticism. Instead, she took a different approach. "If you don't get me back to you apartment within the next hour, I'm attacking you in the car no matter where we are. Consider that a fair warning," she moaned. Once they were in the car and Donnie was driving as fast as he thought safe, Katie teased him about what she had watched in the airport. Donnie explained the entire episode, including the fact that he had offered Carol a job. "You mean that wasn't you getting your other family out of the way? Seriously, I just knew it would be something like that and the little boy will be starting up your fan-club by the look on his face. I didn't realise you had enough work for a full-time accountant though," Katie quizzed him. "Probably not, although the wheat facility project might do better with closer oversight by someone like Carol. No, I'm expecting things to increase quite a bit when I secure some additional capital in early May and then an even bigger injection of capital in October," Donnie explained. "Why the sudden expansion?" Katie asked. "Something big is coming," Donnie replied. "I'm not certain what it is yet, but it's going to be big." Despite her demanding words at the airport, when Katie entered the apartment to be met by a gleeful Rory, she was no longer rushing flat-out for Donnie's bed. The Collie pranced around her, whining happily and trying to stay as close as a second skin. His cold, wet nose continually prodded Katie as the dog demanded her attention. Eventually the couple did gravitate to the bedroom and perhaps Rory's delay had borne fruit because this was no frantic, hurried coupling. They re-discovered the highs that they were capable of and Katie was reminded of just how many orgasms her man could tease out of her. After getting re-acquainted, Donnie and Kate shared a shower and then Donnie made them both a snack. He had saved giving Katie her Christmas presents until it seemed likely that she would be focused on them rather than anything else. As they nursed coffee, he handed her a small parcel to open. "It's heavy," she observed, as she began to pick at the tape that held the Christmas gift wrap together. "Oh my god! Oh ... my ... god!" Katie's squeal erupted when she revealed the brand spanking new iPhone4. Donnie was pleased at the reaction his gift received and within moments he had a shrieking, excited and appreciative girl in his lap. "This is too much!" she exclaimed, but showed no signs of giving it back to him. "I got myself one too, that way the next time you leave me we can at least see each other by phone," Donnie explained part of his thinking behind the gift. "It's cooool!" said Katie. Donnie struggled to reach his second present now that Katie was sitting on him, but eventually he snagged a bigger parcel and handed it to her. "Merry Christmas," he told her. Katie was still so excited with the iPhone that for a moment she wasn't sure what to do. Donnie helped by taking the phone so she had both hands free and once again she picked at the tape. There was no squeal this time when the present was uncovered. Instead, her jaw dropped and her eyes flicked quickly between Donnie and the present several times. Eventually she found her voice. "Now this really is too much," she said, shaking her head in wonder at the iPad. "It's another good investment on my part," Donnie disagreed with her. "Just think how much extra energy you'll have not carrying that heavy laptop everywhere!" Katie put it down so she could give him a smouldering kiss in thanks. When they pulled apart, she hopped up from his lap and rummaged in her bag. "This is something more than just a Christmas present," she said, handing a small package to him. Donnie was intrigued and ripped the wrapping away quickly. Opening the box, he gasped when he saw something he had 'owned' before. Sitting on a bed of blue velvet was a gold signet ring set with a bloodstone. Donnie lifted the ring from the box and held it up to see the engraving on the inside – Triogal Ma Dh'ream/Een dhn bait spair nocht (I am of royal descent/Slay and spare not). "You can't give me this!" Donnie told her. "I can and I am. Mom agreed that it was my decision to make. When my dad died, the ring was passed on to me. It is my right to ask my husband to wear it," said Katie, her voice wavering a little. "You mean... ," began Donnie. "I want to be with you always," Katie confirmed. ------- Chapter 16 Donnie finished the paper he knew was due and sat back from his iPad. He would leave it for a few hours and then review what he had written and perform the first edit. Just zoning out for a moment, he thought about his disagreement with Daryl, one of the other members of the SNP focus group. Donnie remembered asking the question who do the banks serve? but now he wondered if a better question might not be what are the banks there to do? "Oh, so we're feeling all deep and philosophical are we? If we're going to get that deep, why not start with why does a society or country exist and why is there a need for an economy in the first place? "Okay, Janet and John do global economics – lesson 1. So Mr Caveman has some basic needs. He needs to breathe, eat, drink and sleep (and probably shit in the woods!). He finds that it's easier/more productive to hunt and gather food if he acts together with others – that establishes a strong reason for groups to form. "Supply and demand here is pretty simple – the group can only sustain a certain number based on the amount of food they can supply. They follow the migratory pattern of their prey. Tools are invented to make hunting and other aspects of daily life easier. The raw materials required for clothing, tents, weapons etc are accepted as having a value to the group. "Group A is bigger than Group B and not as efficient in making tools or in their hunting methods. Group A sees Group B as a threat to their ability to secure enough food. Group A attacks and wipes out Group B, but keep the women so that they can accelerate the growth of the group. "Security now takes on a value equal to food, water and sleep. Winter weather is also a threat to life and therefore heat takes on a value. No one group has a monopoly on ideas on how to use natural resources. No one group has a full range of natural resources in their territory. Groups see the benefits in trading with each other for things they don't have. "Group X lives by a river and has all the fish it can eat and more. Group Y has a source of flint that will last forever. They decide to trade. The fish, although food, is gone pretty quickly and is perceived as having no lasting value. So long as Group Y aren't totally starving, the flint is seen as more valuable than the fish. The flint lasts for a longer period and can be used again and again. The flint is regarded as more valuable and it 'buys' more fish. "As the group grows, it needs a bigger territory to sustain it. Some groups see benefits in merging. Some groups are conquered and 'assimilated'. With greater numbers in the group, production/killing of things to trade increases. The importance of the various roles within the group gives an individual 'worth' and status. "The group assigns values to individuals. Sheer physical strength, an advantage in hunting, begins to be worth less than it was at the start as the development of tools such the spear or bow and arrow make hunting easier and food less scarce. A good bow and arrow manufacturer is now worth more than a hunter. Donnie paused in his 'wild' daydream and made himself a cup of coffee before settling back in one of his comfy chairs. "I'm enjoying this, but where are the banks? They still haven't put in an appearance yet. "Okay, things get a bit complicated as the number of different things to trade grows. I make furniture. My neighbour wants to trade for a chair, but he makes spears and I don't want a spear. Someone on the other side of the village wants a spear, but he only has animal hides to trade and my neighbour doesn't want those. I do want the hides. It's a complicated trade and someone comes up with an idea. "Give all the various goods a relative value and establish a system of using tokens. That's much more efficient. It's important though that the tokens can't simply be manufactured by everybody or there would be chaos, so use something very rare – oh, metal, let's make some coins! "Right, we've made 'buying and selling' much more efficient now and because the metal is rare, it even works for trading with other groups and they adopt the same system. Because we can trade for what we need, we don't need to follow the migration of the animals as much, plus we want to keep the resources we use safe from others so we establish territories that are much more static – a 'country'. "The group agree rules that can be enforced in their now more static existence. Staying in one place for so long gives rise to the need for some new things like sanitation. The group agrees some 'common services' should be provided and those are paid for by a levy on everybody – the first tax. Still no banks. "Because people just naturally like sex, the group continues to grow and people have to continually find new ways of getting coins so they can trade for the things they need. One way of dealing with over-population is simply to have large groups leave to go and establish new 'countries'. Another is for people to invent new goods that other groups want so they create additional wealth. "With populations growing, so does farming. Harvests of grain become too big to simply sell on at once and the granary is established. The farmer deposits his grain in the granary for safe keeping and gets a 'receipt' – the first bank! "Trade continues to grow in scale and 'coinage' needs to move in large quantities to pay for raw materials for production. It's not safe to carry that kind of wealth around, so a 'letter of credit' is created that guarantees the bearer has the capital. The letter of credit is drawn on an institution called a bank. "Things are getting really complicated now, so the group elect a committee to take a broader view of what they should be trying to produce and to make efficient use of the tax money raised. The committee make policies on what skills should be developed to exploit the trade opportunities that are out there and they create incentives to encourage group members to focus on one product rather than another. "Individual citizens need somewhere safe to store their 'money' so they go to the bank. The bank want to use the money deposited with them to invest in ventures that will create more wealth so they pay the citizen 'interest' on their deposit. The government of the group want to invest in other things like mining to create more wealth, so they borrow from the bank and issue a 'bond'. "All the way through from the first granary, the 'banks' have charged for their service. Exchanging the various types of coin used by all the groups incurs a charge. Carrying a letter of credit incurs a charge. Borrowing to finance new ventures incurs a charge. "Eventually some of the more enterprising citizens see what is possible by taking out a loan to start a new venture and they borrow too. The new ventures keep expanding and need capital. Some comes from the bank, but some comes from offering a 'share' in the profits to other citizens. Yet more citizens start to borrow for personal reasons – to buy goods they can't immediately afford or to purchase a dwelling. "All of that sounds logical and sensible. So where is the problem with banks? I can only come back to greed. All of the services I've thought about are required, but how much should we have to pay for them? How is it that bankers can create 'new' things to sell which are worth less than what they're sold for? What kind of risks should they be allowed to take with other people's money? Lending money to people on properties that aren't worth the value of the loan – all in pursuit of obscene profits that they use to pay themselves equally obscene bonuses? "There has to be a better way! The SNP has already established local enterprise banks that are lending to small businesses at 'not for profit' rates. And what about other 'Financial Services'? Why pay an insurance premium to a big company? Why not establish a local co-operative and pay into that. Isn't that where a lot of these companies started out in the first place? Pension companies are taking up to 20 percent of the investment in a personal pension fund as an administrative charge! It's a rip-off - greed, pure and simple!" Donnie decided his daydream had reached a point where it was no longer fun. In fact, his conclusions were quite depressing. ------- Katie checked through the spy hole in the door then opened it. The woman in front of her held a notebook and was dressed in a sharp black, two-piece business suit. Her hair was screwed up in a tight bun and she wore the kind of glasses that young executives favoured. "Are you Katherine McGregor?" the woman demanded. "Yes. Who are you?" Katie responded in a similarly strong tone. "I'm from the bursar's office," said the caller. "Once again you have failed to pay the rental for your accommodation for the semester. This isn't the first time, is it?" Katie physically took a step back at this verbal assault and her visitor took advantage of that by pushing past her into the flat. "But I'm sure there's some mistake!" Katie pleaded. "There's probably been a mix-up at the bank." "Yes, I'm sure there has been. I've heard all of the excuses, so save your breath. You've been warned in the past. Now, I want you packed and out within the hour!" The visitor tapped the toe of one shoe on the floor, showing her impatience. Katie took in the deadly looking stiletto heels and the shapely legs that disappeared under the sharp, above the knee skirt. "That's ludicrous," she argued. "Where am I supposed to go? How am I supposed to complete my studies?" "That's your problem I'm afraid. I repeat, I want you packed and gone within the hour!" Katie was frantic. What would she do? If she was evicted, she could move in with Donnie, but she would be a pariah amongst her friends when word got out. "Look, there has to be a way we can fix this," she pleaded. The eyes behind the executive glasses fixed her with a piercing look. "You can fix it by paying me now or vacating the accommodation," the woman advised, unyielding. "But I don't have any money here," Katie whined. "Then pack!" "But if you throw me out, I'll be a laughing stock! You can't do this!" Katie cried. The blonde in the business suit walked round her slowly, giving her an appraising look. "How badly do you want to avoid that humiliation?" she asked. Katie hesitated. She had a sudden insight into where this might be heading and it sent a shiver up her spine. "Does she really mean what I think she does?" The visitor paused in her circling. She was directly behind Katie and the American suddenly felt a hand snaking round to cup her left breast. She stiffened, but didn't move to stop the 'assault'. Emboldened, the other woman moulded herself to Katie's back and her other hand captured Katie's right breast. Katie could feel the soft, sensuous petting of her breasts, the teasing of her hardened nipples and the heavy breathing of the blonde in her ear. Despite the situation, she felt the electric jolts shooting from her sensitive breasts to her already lubricating pussy. "So how about it? Just what are you willing to do to avoid eviction?" the blonde breathed in Katie's ear. Katie couldn't speak. She remained stock still, then trembled as she felt the woman beginning to pop the buttons on her blouse. Her blouse was tugged from the waistband of her skirt and she felt the woman's soft hand glide upwards over her ribs. Next, Katie felt the catch on her front-fastening bra being opened and then it was flesh on flesh as the woman's hands caressed her straining breasts. "You know, I think you're really enjoying this," the blonde breathed. She lifted Katie's breasts slightly then let them settle in her cupped hands and teased the hard nipples. Katie remained quiet, but couldn't stop the trembling that had begun in her legs. "Mmmmmm, cat got your tongue?" moaned the blonde. "Well, I'll just have to check for myself how much you're enjoying it." Katie felt the woman's right hand slip downwards and then felt her skirt being pulled upwards. In moments, the hand was stroking the front panel of her panties and Katie bucked as something flicked over the bump of her clit. Fingers pressed the material of her panties into her by now sodden slit and Katie failed to hold in a moan of pleasure. "Oh the little slut really likes it, doesn't she? Well, slut. I'm the one who's supposed to be getting something out of this so it's time for you to pay off the rent." The blonde sat on Katie's sofa and hiked up her short business skirt to reveal white silk panties. "Come over here and take my panties off, slut!" Katie had turned to see what the blonde was doing. Her eyes widened at the lewd display and the command was like a slap in the face. When she didn't move, the blonde shouted at her. "Get over here on your knees now!" Katie stumbled forward and knelt between the blondes spread thighs. She shook slightly, but that could have been from fear or excitement. "Take them off, slut. You know you want to." Katie reached out tentatively and the blonde raised her butt so that her panties could be removed. Katie stared at the neatly trimmed bush and saw beads of moisture on the delicate lips. "What are you waiting for, slut? Eat me, come on, eat me!" the blonde moaned. Katie bent forward slowly, deliberately, until her tongue and lips touched the other woman's sex. "Aaaahhh, yes, do it! Eat me!" After ten minutes of this, Katie was fully into it and she was licking and sucking for all she was worth. "Get the dildo from my bag," the blonde got out between moans. Katie broke off and quickly retrieved the sex toy. It was smooth pink and twisted at the base to turn on a vibrating function. This time Katie needed no urging and she began teasing the blonde's pussy with the toy, using the vibration to stimulate her clit. "That's it, that's it. Come on, ram it into me!" squealed the blonde. The blonde lay back on the sofa and frantically pulled Katie on top of her in a classic sixty-nine position. She pulled Katie's panties aside and feasted on her dripping pussy while jerking to the feel of the dildo hammering away at her own sex. "Yes, yes. Fuck me with that thing, fuck me you little, slut!" Katie was at boiling point herself, the entire situation and her first ever sexual contact with a woman combining mentally to quickly have her on the verge of climax. "Yeeess, yes, uuggghhhh! Yesssss!" screamed the blonde. "Don't you dare stop now," warned Katie, herself close to the edge. The blonde somehow managed to redouble her efforts and Katie crashed over into orgasm before collapsing on top of the woman. They both lay there for a few moments before the blonde complained. "Katie, for god's sake get off me, I can't breathe!" Katie managed to roll off and landed on the floor giggling. "Where did you get that idea from, Heather? I have to admit it was hot, but I've no idea how to explain to Donnie that he missed out. You know he's been fantasising about both of us since before Christmas?" Katie grinned. "He's next!" Heather leered. ------- Katie wasn't overly concerned about Donnie's reaction when she related the story about Heather's role-play sex game. The couple had discussed Heather's previous flirting and had agreed that they would both be comfortable exploring things with their friend – either Katie alone or with them both together. Katie had been accurate in her assessment to Heather, as Donnie's response was to bemoan the fact that he had missed out seeing the girls together. "I know we discussed it before, but are you really okay with Heather and me getting it on? I mean, I kinda ask you to marry me and then within a week I'm having sex with someone else," she asked, with just a hint of worry. "Don't be silly! We discussed this before and I know Heather was pushing some of your buttons. She's hot when she gets started. You should have teased her afterwards by telling her we'd just got engaged, that would have turned the tables," Donnie grinned. "No, we agreed to keep that quiet until you graduate, but are you sure you're fine about this?" "Positive, now get changed and let's go to the gym," said Donnie. ------- Nothing much of interest happened in January. Novak Djokovic duly won the Australian open, beating Scotland's Andy Murray in the final in straight sets. Donnie had explained his accumulator bet to Katie, but had remained silent so far on the stake and the potential winnings. Donnie, Katie and Heather worked on their studies harder than ever although the second semester, and therefore lectures, didn't actually start again until mid-February. For Donnie, there were two things of note in February. Television news was bringing the world dramatic reports of the breakdown of a number of states in North Africa and the Middle East. Things appeared to start in Tunisia and could actually be traced back to a street vendor who had had his goods confiscated by officials. In protest, the vendor had doused himself in gasoline and set himself alight. Street protests erupted almost overnight, with the population's anger at food inflation, unemployment, corruption and overall living conditions brought to a head by the vendor's self-immolation. Initially secret police and security forces responded by using live ammunition to shoot the protesters, but the scale of revolt was such that the President of 23 years, Zine El Abidine Ben Ali, fled the country for Saudi Arabia. The key thing about Tunisia was the danger of a domino effect and soon there were street protests all over Egypt. Once again security forces opened fire on protesters, but for two weeks Tahrir Square in Cairo was the focal point for civil disobedience aimed at expressing anger at similar issues as those in Tunisia, but with a higher profile on the need for democratic reforms. By mid February, President Hosni Mubarak was forced to stand down and another regime had been toppled. Further 'copy-cat' protests sprung up in Yemen, Bahrain, Iraq, Algeria and Jordan. Of most note, however, was a popular uprising in Libya against Colonel Muammar Gaddafi's 42 year reign. The West watched and worried about the security of oil supplies, particularly if the unthinkable were to happen and the domino effect reached the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. There was also deep concern as to the kinds of regime that might replace the former totalitarian rulers, with the ubiquitous and trans-national Muslim Brotherhood (a reputedly conservative society that was nonetheless committed to a single Islamic state) evident in a number of countries. Such potentially seismic upheavals in geo-politics were obviously of concern to Donnie and he followed events avidly. One thing he observed was that despots still tried to control communications during such critical times. Mobile phone networks and the Internet had been targeted and in many cases cut-off. These kind of events were meat and drink of course for Donnie's studies. The second thing of note was a phone call from Carol McStay, the accountant he had met at the airport. Donnie took the call as he rushed between lectures and the initial conversation was necessarily short. "Hello?" "Hi, is that Donnie McGregor?" "Yes it is. That wouldn't be my new accountant, Carol McStay would it?" Donnie chuckled, recognising Carol's voice. Carol paused. She was impressed that Donnie remembered her from their brief meeting, let alone recognised her on the phone. "Yes, well I mean ... yes it is me, Carol. I don't know yet about the job." "Uh Carol, listen, I'm rushing between classes now. Could I get back to you later on the number you're using?" "Oh! Sorry, I didn't realise. Of course you can ring later." "No problem. Bye." While it was true he was busy, Donnie had also realised that he had forgotten to do something. When he sat down beside Katie for his next lecture, he tried to rectify that. "The woman from the airport called, the accountant. Could you check what kind of salary a corporate finance officer might pick up in a smallish company?" he asked. "Sure, leave it with me," Katie smiled. When Donnie returned Carol's call that night, Katie had supplied details that suggested a company his size might offer someone in the region of £50k per annum. Donnie checked his call log and thumbed to ring Carol's number. "Hi, Carol? It's Donnie McGregor. Sorry about earlier." "Thanks for phoning back, but I'm wondering if I made a mistake in calling you. Did you say you were rushing between classes?" Donnie laughed at her obvious concern about his youth and whether he was in any position to be offering employment. "I told you before, don't let appearances put you off! I'm currently studying at Stirling Uni. – politics if you're interested – but that doesn't stop me also having a business, In fact, one of the reasons for looking for staff is so that I can focus on my studies!" "Look, I'm getting really desperate. The company I was working for have been hit by the recession and I've been laid off. If you can't offer me anything then I won't take up anymore of your time." "You need to slow down, Carol. I've got a small project underway that could benefit from some good project management. Things are going to ramp up in a few months and at that point we'll need to recruit a few more. Why don't I meet you and give you the lowdown on the site? How about this weekend, you could bring the kids and we could grab dinner somewhere?" "Is this an attempt at a pick-up?" "If it was would I invite you to bring the kids? Anyway, my girlfriend would be there and she's the jealous type!" Katie was sitting close enough to kick Donnie's shins for that comment. "Sorry, but it wouldn't be the first job offer with strings attached. Em, could you pick me up? I don't have a car at the moment." Donnie could feel the woman's embarrassment at having to admit how her life was disintegrating around her. "Not a problem. Where should we pick you up?" The arrangements were agreed and Donnie broke the connection. "Why take her to the site?" Katie asked. "There's not much to see, just a big hole in the ground!" "She doesn't believe any of this is real," Donnie replied. "I need to show her something tangible. Besides, she's the one who is going to push the contractors on site. She might as well get a feel for it." ------- Donnie knew it would be a tight squeeze in the VW Polo for all of them, so he hired a Toyota Land Cruiser for the day. "Hey, if we have to rent, let's get something nice!" he defended himself in the face of Katie's teasing. When they called for Carol, they found that her mother was looking after baby Alishia and it was only herself and young Alan who were taking the trip with them. Donnie made the introduction so everyone knew each other and then Katie, remembering the hero-worship from the boy at the airport, made an offer. "Alan, why don't you sit up front with Donnie?" "Could I really?" the boy asked excitedly. "Sure. It means your mom and I can talk girl stuff together in the back." The drive was uneventful. Donnie kept Alan occupied with a story about Rob Roy McGregor while Katie showed Carol the design drawings for the Ardbrecknish facility. For Donnie and Katie the scenery they passed was now familiar, but for Carol and Alan it was all new. The youngster in particular was taken by the height of the mountains and when they turned a bend in the road and he saw the ruins of Kilchurn Castle, he was beside himself with excitement. "It was actually built on McGregor land by the accursed Campbells once we the Gregorach were dispossessed," Donnie growled theatrically. When they stopped on the site, Katie pointed out roughly how far their land stretched. "That's a lot of land just for the designs you've shown me," observed a sharp Carol. "Ah, but that's where the expansion plans I was talking about come in," said Donnie. He rummaged in the trunk of the Toyota and emerged with a toy, scaled-down, claymore sword and a targe to go with it. "Alan? Here you go. The Gregorach need to go armed in this area for I fear there may still be Campbells about." The boy took the toys and immediately became a screaming clansman in his own head. Donnie turned back to Carol. "The designs Katie showed you are for one silo. We're going to up that to thirty over the next three years. The other buildings are going to be more extensive too – more living accommodation, a crèche, a school and other things I'm not sure about just yet." "A school?" Katie asked. "Where did that come from?" "I thought it would help attract the right people to work for us if we could offer facilities like that as part of the employment package," Donnie dissembled. "Ahm, could we talk about the employment package?" Carol asked, colouring a little at the question. "Of course, I should have got to it sooner. Forgive me," said Donnie. "I was thinking about £75k a year on top of your accommodation and full use of the facilities like the crèche and school." Carol gasped and then her mouth moved a few times without any words coming out. "I think you can take that as a yes, Dòmhnall." Donnie had to turn away for a moment to hide his smile at the goddess' comment from the girls. ------- Carol was determined to prove she was worth the money that Donnie was willing to pay her, "If that young man is willing to take such a huge risk on me then I'm going to earn every penny, every minute of every day!" She drove the car Donnie had bought to Ardbrecknish on her first morning. He had insisted on the car, but Carol had managed to persuade him to buy it for the company so it would be tax deductable. For the whole of that day, she merely walked the site, observing how things were being done. Carol repeated her approach for the second day and by now some of the workmen were beginning to wonder who she was and what she was doing. She took notes as she was watching – sometimes writing something down that needed to change and sometimes simply doodling, but knowing her actions were encouraging the men to work more quickly anyway. On the third day she approached the site foreman, and Carol handed over one of her new business cards. Gregorach Enterprises Carol McStay Chief Finance Officer The foreman took the card and glanced at her details briefly, almost indifferently. He took out a cigarette packet and lit one before he spoke. "What can I do for you?" he asked. Carol forced herself to remain calm – for now. "You can double the production speed on this site," she told him evenly. The foreman barked a laugh and then took another drag on his cigarette. "Listen, love. You do your job and I'll do mine. Okay? Keep off the site and go sit counting your beans in your wee office somewhere! Double production! Ha! Fucking skirt." "Okay, I told you what I wanted in a nice way. Now you listen up big man because this is your last warning. Apologise now for your offensive and illegal discriminatory language and I'll forget it. Get your men to double their output and you can all stay on the job," Carol advised, her tone now steely. "I already told you, fuck off skirt!" growled the foreman. He dropped his still smoking cigarette at her feet and walked away. Carol dug out her mobile phone and speed dialled Donnie's number. She got his voicemail and left a message asking him to call her as soon as possible. It was over half an hour before Donnie returned her call. Carol described her exchange with the foreman and sensed a little reservation in Donnie's response. "So you need me to fix this? Carol, I was hoping that having you in place would make life easier, not create more problems." "Wait a minute! You're the one that always tells me not to make quick judgements," Carol responded. "I didn't phone you to fix anything. I know these guys are sub-contractors and all I want is a number for the prime. If you can give me that, I'll quit taking up your time!" "Oh, sorry. Give me a sec." Donnie shared the number and Carol called the main contractor. She explained that she was the CFO of Gregorach Enterprises. "I'd like to meet you here on the Ardbrecknish site," she suggested. "Sure, let me check my diary." "No, I don't think you get my meaning. I want a meeting now, within the next two hours. If I don't get it then my company will be cancelling the contract and suing for damages. Oh, did I mention that we are planning on scaling up construction to build thirty silos?" The meeting took place within the hour. Carol carefully read from her notes taken over the past two days. "I've noted down the scheduling over the past few days," she said. "I've also noted in the margin what the weather conditions were at different points throughout the day." Carol handed her notes to the representative of the prime contractor. "What am I supposed to be seeing here?" he asked. Carol sighed, afraid that even getting rid of the current sub-contractor might not resolve the problems. "Wouldn't you say it makes sense to be flexible so that when it rains the teams can work in the tunnels and when it's dry, they work in the main floor area?" she asked. "Sure," said the contractor. "Well, look at my notes. Look at the notes in the margin. Every minute it was raining, they were doing nothing. At this time of year in Scotland, it's a good bet a large proportion of the day will see rain. Your crew are scamming my company and I want it sorted!" Carol barked. The contractor scrutinised Carol's notes and saw the truth of what she was saying. "I said on the phone that we're about to scale up our plans here. I can assure you that you're company will not be in the running for any of that business unless this is sorted. Now!" she told him. With a grim look on his face, the contractor stomped off in search of the site foreman. Carol could actually hear the dressing down the foreman was given. When the contractor returned he apologised for what had been going on and promised that things were sorted. "What did the foreman say to you earlier?" he asked. "Why?" "He seemed to be expecting to be in trouble for bad-mouthing you," the contractor suggested. "Bad-mouthing? Be serious! What he said was baby-talk," she replied. ------- March saw an improvement in the building progress and Donnie decided he had made a good appointment. Libya came to a head. Gaddafi and his loyalists unleashed a brutal counter-attack against the rebels and an all out civil war ensued. Donnie watched 24 hour news and followed the condemnation of Gaddafi by firstly the West and then the big Middle East states. The United Nations authorised a no-fly zone to stop the Colonel and his supporters bombing their own countrymen. The Libyan revolutionaries, fed paranoia by Gaddafi for so long, refused to accept help from the West. Gaddafi loyalists opened the oil wells and set fire to some. Others were blown up to make it more difficult to cap the 'gushers'. Other Arab states intervened at that point and did help the rebels and before the end of the month, Gaddafi was unseated. The oil wells continued to burn though, with the rebels refusing offers from the west to help stop the waste. Donnie watched a documentary that indicated the first signs of unrest were being felt in Saudi Arabia. The English cricket team were crowned world cup winners and the second part of Donnie's four event accumulator was complete. The SNP election manifesto was also published in March and Donnie was pleased to see that his own strongly held views were reflected in it. Already Donnie was aware that the First Minister's engagements were beginning to ramp up and he was trying to be at as many as his studies would allow. The normal arrangement was to take his study material on the road with him and he would study as the FM's party travelled between the various engagements. Donnie was able to see Salmond at his best – in front of the cameras – and worst – behind the scenes on the 'Battle Bus'. Donnie suffered through April. He found out just how physically punishing campaigning could be, with the FM visiting up to six different cities, towns or villages per day. He watched from the wings or the audience as Alex Salmond took part in debate after debate. If he was honest, it was starting to become repetitive. One aspect of the debates did tickle Donnie quite a bit. He began to realise that the FM must have been aware of his argument with Daryl and role-play with Donna because he was using a much more polished version of Donnie's argument during live TV debates. ------- The night of the election, 5 May, was a pure adrenaline rush for Donnie. He was a little sad that he was missing the election night party that Katie and his year mates were attending, but nothing could compare to being smack dab in the middle of it all. Instead of watching it on TV, he was there and soaking it all up. The results began to come in a little after 23:30 and Donnie stayed to see the first two hours. By then it was clear that the SNP were ahead and looking as if they would win. Almost asleep, Donnie thanked Alex Salmond and said he was heading home. "You've been superb on the organisation of this campaign, Donnie," Salmond said. "At the next election, you'll be up there as a candidate!" "Sorry, Alex. I won't be old enough to stand," Donnie managed to laugh. "I'll get some sleep and come back for the breakfast celebrations." "You won't be twenty-one in four years time? Damn!" Salmond shook his head. Donnie drove very carefully given how tired he was. The adrenaline rush had gone and it seemed to have taken a lot out of him. His speed and manoeuvres were deliberate and measured and he breathed a sigh of relief when he parked outside the apartment. "Whoa boy!" Donnie exclaimed, as Rory jumped up at him when he opened the door. Despite being extremely tired, he took the Collie for a quick walk so he could relieve himself. When he got back to the apartment, Donnie stripped and crawled under his duvet. ------- "Dòmhnall, WAKEUP!" Donnie sat bolt upright in his bed, the goddess' shout still ringing in his head. Gradually the tone of his phone impinged on his semi-sleep and he stumbled from the bed to pull his phone from his pants' pocket. "Uh, hi," Donnie managed. "Donnie, I need you, please? Please, Donnie?" Katie's voice sounded so desperate that it shook Donnie from his stupor. "I'm on my way!" he shouted, dropping the phone to pull on his trousers. Donnie remembered to grab the phone again as he raced for the door. "Rory!" When the Collie didn't respond by the time the door was open, Donnie forgot about him for the moment and focused on getting to Katie's flat as quickly as possible. The comparison between his driving on the way back from the TV studio earlier and how Donnie was pushing the VW Polo now was like chalk and cheese. It was only a matter of minutes before he used his key to enter Katie's flat at a dead-run. And then... And then he skidded to a halt in horror. The door opened into the sitting room and Donnie took in the sight of Katie on her knees beside a limp Collie dog. A few feet away was the body of a man, Donnie knew it was a body because of the bloody mess where his throat had once been. A wicked, blood-soaked knife lay beside the body. Katie looked up when he entered, but surprisingly for Donnie, she didn't rush to hold him. He saw that the blouse she was wearing was ripped at the front and there was a welt under her left eye. "Katie! What's going on?" he cried. "Rory! Oh god, Rory," was her plaintive response. Donnie did a double-take and realised that it was Rory that Katie was comforting. Blood was oozing from his dog and Donnie felt a lurch in his stomach. "Phone the police!" he shouted at Katie, as he dropped down beside the precious dog. Laying his hands on Rory's flank, Donnie groaned deeply. He was linked to his gifts and could sense that a knife had pierced the dog's heart. A picture of what had happened leapt into Donnie's head in that instant. Someone had got into Katie's flat and had tried to rape her. Rory had somehow attacked the man to get him away from Katie, but the attacker had stabbed the Collie in the heart. "Oh you noble, noble beast," Donnie whimpered. "This is twice you have sacrificed your heart for someone you love. Please, never again." He started pushing wave after wave of strength and healing into his friend and felt the Collie weakly lick his arm. The night had already drained Donnie and the healing was taking longer than normal. Katie interrupted his concentration. "The police ... the police are on their way. I'm so sorry about Rory. But he saved me," she said. "Tell me what happened, quickly, before the police get here," Donnie demanded. Katie seemed to respond to his tone of voice and poured out the sorry tale. "I came back to the flat because I was tired after staying up to watch the first results," she related, monotone. "The door bell rang and I don't know why, but I thought it would be Heather. I didn't look through the spy-hole like I normally do. "When I opened the door, he battered it and it hit my face. Before I could recover, he was on top of me. He ... he ripped my ... my blouse and groped me. "I managed to kick him and I ran into the bedroom. He followed me and pulled out that knife," At that point, Katie gestured towards the blood-stained blade and she shuddered. "I really thought that was it, Donnie. I thought I was going to be raped and probably killed and then my hero appeared out of nowhere. I had no idea that Rory could be so vicious, so frightening. "I think he bit the man behind the knee first – it was almost as if he did it to distract him from me. Then it was like he turned into a sheep dog – he ran at the man from one side and then the other. It was as if it was all designed to get the bastard out of the bedroom, away from me. "I followed, worried about Rory. I know that sounds stupid, but I did. Rory leapt up and grabbed his throat between his teeth. He didn't tear at the man, he just seemed to hold on and bite down. I saw the knife going into him and I screamed. "The rapist tried to turn towards me and he lost his grip on the knife. He fell down and Rory fell with him, still biting down on his throat. Eventually the man stopped moving and Rory rolled away. That's when I phoned you," Katie blubbed. "Katie, it's going to be okay," Donnie tried to re-assure her. "But poor Rory," she wailed. Donnie focused again on the Collie. "I'm sorry old friend, I'm going to have to leave a wound for the police to see," he said. "You're not a cat, you don't have nine lives, but I promise I'll fix it all up later." Katie seemed to realise that Donnie was doing something and talking to Rory. She could understand how he felt at the loss of his long time friend, but this seemed more than that. "The only thing I don't understand is how he knew and how he got here," Donnie muttered. Rory seemed to understand and now much revived, the dog managed to reach and lick at a spot on his haunch, high up on his rear leg. Donnie let his fingers brush the Collie's hair aside and gasped as he saw a brand in the shape of a mountain with a crossed hammer. "That's your tattoo!" Katie exclaimed. Further exchanges were cut short as three police officers burst into the flat. The fact that nobody was in a threatening posture helped the officers keep their calm, but the presence of a dead body ensured they watched Donnie like a hawk. Donnie remained holding Rory, as things happened round about him. He heard Katie fitfully tell the story of what happened and then zoned out a little as he tried to use his gifts to restore his own energy levels. The words of one of the officers eventually jolted Donnie from his reverie. "Miss, you're going to have to go in the ambulance to the hospital, it's standard procedure. Harry, could you get somebody to come and dispose of the dog?" the officer asked. "Officer, if anybody comes near this dog other than to treat him, you are going to be in a world of hurt," Donnie managed from the floor beside his friend. "I'm sorry, sir. The dog seems to have killed this man and there is no way in the world he won't be put down. Too much of a risk now you see, humane killing for sure." Katie couldn't believe how crass the officer was being. "This dog just saved me from being raped. He probably saved me from being killed. You can't put him down for that!" "I'm sorry, miss. The dog will have to go." Donnie pulled out his mobile, glad that he had remembered to pick it up. "Heather? We need you at Katie's as fast as you can get here," he said. Donnie thumbed his phone again. "Horace? I've got a police officer here who is threatening to kill my dog. Who is the top QC in Scotland? Get him on the phone now; I want him around in case anything happens to this dog!" ------- Chapter 17 Donnie was satisfied that his gifts had repaired Rory's heart a second time and also staunched the Collie's bleeding. His trusty companion was out of danger from his wound, but Donnie now had a different battle on his hands. "Who the hell is Horace and what do you think a Queen's Council is going to be able to do for a dog?" the police officer challenged Donnie. "A little over an hour ago I was standing with Alex Salmond celebrating another SNP seat won in the election," Donnie answered him. "Horace is one of the SNP business managers. As for the QC, he's not for the dog; he's to represent me for anything I need to do to stop you harming him!" Donnie was bluffing. He had made up the name Horace and he hadn't actually spoken to anyone other than himself when he had asked for the QC over the phone. He was gambling that the mention of the SNP and such senior legal representation would make the officer think carefully about what he did. "Look, son. The dog is a killer, he has to go," the officer told Donnie, his patronising tone really getting under Donnie's skin. "Officer, I've had Rory for almost five years. We have worked together in the fields herding sheep. In all that time he has never been aggressive towards an animal, never mind a human. If you look at that man's throat you will see that this wasn't a frenzied attack. Rory didn't 'rip his throat out', far from it. The signs are of a calculated attack in self-defence," Donnie argued. "Self-defence? This guy was apparently attacking Miss McGregor, not the dog!" the officer scoffed. "Officer, I'm surprised at you. Perhaps you need to brush up on the definition of self-defence. It doesn't only mean defending yourself," Donnie told him. "Katie!" The shriek was from Heather, as she entered the flat and took in the body and the police officers. "Would someone put up a bloody perimeter!" screamed the senior officer, dismayed that a member of the public had managed to wander in to a major crime scene. "Heather's here to travel with Katie to the hospital," Donnie advised the officer. "She will go in the ambulance and that will allow me to take Rory for treatment." "The dog isn't going anywhere, trust me on that!" "Officer, I beg to differ. You have no grounds to take my property from me. There has been no law broken here and you have no powers to intervene." Donnie's statement was made so factually, and with all of the confidence that his gifts bestowed that it carried significant weight. He stood up and lifted the injured Collie in his arms. The officers looked at each other, unsure of what to do. None of them could actually think of a law that they could use to stop Donnie from simply walking away. "Heather, look after Katie for me. Katie, I'll be back as quickly as I can." Donnie started for the door and the officer who had been the most threatening towards Rory moved to intercept him. Donnie met the officer's eyes. "What are you going to arrest me for?" he asked. "I'm leaving and taking my property with me. There's nothing you can do to stop that, now please stand aside." Once outside the Alexander Court building, Donnie rushed quickly to the Polo and placed Rory on the back seat. Now that the police had seen the Collie's injuries he decided that there was no reason to delay fully healing his friend. Laying hands on the dog's head, Donnie let his gifts complete what he had started and in minutes Rory was as good as new. "Okay, my four-legged friend. Let's get you out of harm's way for a while. How do you fancy a few weeks with mom and dad on the farm?" Rory's woof seemed to indicate that he quite liked the idea. "I'm guessing that the goddess has branded you for a reason, my friend," Donnie whispered as he crouched to scratch Rory's ears. "No doubt she will let me know why when it suits her." Despite already having had a very long day, Donnie wanted Rory somewhere that the police wouldn't have easy access to him, so he set off for the farm without delay. His parents were at first grumpy about being woken up at 04:00, but when Donnie related the events of the evening, they were as supportive as always. "Get back to Stirling now, son. You should be with Katie; she'll need your strength. Let us worry about Rory," Mairi McGregor urged. ------- Katie wasn't detained long at Stirling Royal Infirmary, but of course the police were anxious to interview her about the attack and the death that had resulted from it. A time was agreed for later that day, allowing for Katie's lack of sleep and her reaction to the attempted rape. She was looking for her iPhone to call Donnie when he appeared through the main entrance to the hospital and quickly walked over to wrap her in a hug. "How are you bearing up?" he asked. "Surprisingly well, to be honest," she answered. "I'm most bothered by how stupid I was. I mean ... I always check before opening the door. Why didn't I check this time?" Donnie merely shook his head. "Life is full of things like that. If you dwell on it, you'll just get yourself into a state. Come on, let's get you home. I'll drop you off first, Heather and listen, thanks for being there when we needed you." "Don't be daft, I know both of you will be there for me if I need it," Heather replied. Donnie dropped Heather off at the Halls of Residence, but instead of then driving to the Alexander Court building, he turned the Polo and left the University campus again. "I thought you were taking me home?" Katie enquired. "I am," he said. "I'm not taking no for an answer this time. You're moving into the apartment with me. Tonight was a shock. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you." When they got back to the apartment, Donnie heated some milk in the microwave and made some milky coffee. "Where is my hero?" Katie asked. "I wanted him far enough away to make it difficult for the police to do anything stupid," Donnie explained. "I took him back to mom and dad on the farm." "He'll like that." Katie took a sip of her coffee and seemed to stare off into the middle distance for a few moments. At last she sighed and tuned to look at Donnie. "I think Rory being there for me is making all this easier," she started. "I'm not in denial or anything; I know how close I came to being raped or even worse. I'm coping okay though thanks to my hero. Isn't it about time you told me everything?" Donnie had been wondering when they would have this conversation. He was surprised that Katie hadn't pressed him before now on how it had been possible to have met and saved her ancestors. That had lain between them since their first night together. "Why now? I mean ... why are you asking me to explain now?" Donnie asked. Katie considered his question for a moment. "It was Rory. I knew he was dying, but you did something to him. I'm still not even sure how he got there and you seemed surprised as well. You did something to heal him and then there was the tattoo on his leg – it was the same as the one on your shoulder. I've noticed that Heather has one too, but her's is different." "Are you sure this is the right time for this?" Donnie asked. "Positive. I need to know what's going on around me, now more than ever," Katie nodded. Donnie removed his shirt so he could show her his brand. "This isn't a tattoo, it's actually a brand. It was put there by the mother of all the Scots gods and goddesses, Beira," he began. Donnie didn't leave anything out. He told Katie his story from the first day when he had been stranded in the snow, how Rory had saved him and how the goddess had appeared and taken him into her service. "So that's what you meant when you said that Rory had given his heart a second time?" she asked. "Yeh. The knife wound tonight punctured his heart and he was close to death when I got to him," Donnie confirmed. "But how did you..." Donnie held up his hand to stop her question. "Just listen, it will all make sense once you've heard all of it," he suggested. He explained how he had faced his fears and climbed the cliff face and then how Sironaidh had appeared and given him her gift of healing. He recounted all of the interactions with the goddesses – including the details of how he had met Katie's ancestors. When he arrived at the part about killing the Somali pirates, Katie could see that there was still some anguish behind his eyes. "So are you going to tell me about the bets that you have been putting on?" Katie asked. Donnie explained about the plane crash and Vivien Dunn. "Later, Beira explained why I didn't see anything about the crash in the media," said Donnie. "It hasn't actually happened yet, she transported me into the future." "But doesn't that mean you can do something to stop the crash from happening?" Katie asked. "I tried that, believe me, I tried hard. The goddess told me that some things couldn't be changed. Anyway, as part of showing me that this was something that was to happen in the future, she showed me a newspaper story about it." Donnie described how he had taken the opportunity of writing down the information from the newspaper and how he was planning to use the money it would generate to fund the expansion of the building at Ardbrecknish. "So how much are you expecting to make?" Katie asked. "Next week I should bring in almost £21million," Donnie told her. "Are you serious?!" Katie exclaimed. Donnie couldn't hold in the laugh. "You sit there and listen to me describe all kinds of fantasy stuff about goddesses, time travel and unbelievable 'gifts' without even a smidgen of disbelief. But as soon as I mention a wee bit of money, your eyes bug out and you're waving your arms about like a windmill!" "It is a lot of money," Katie responded. "As for the goddess, I know quite a bit about the old ones and I suspected there had to be something like that involved. How else could you have saved someone back in 1603? Anyway, does Rory's brand mean that he now serves the goddess too?" "I guess so," said Donnie. "It would certainly explain how he managed to be in your flat." Not surprisingly given the time and what they had been through, Katie and Donnie both ran out of steam and they eventually crawled into bed with the sun already well above the horizon to the east. ------- Donnie's radio-alarm went off at 08:00. He slammed his hand down on the button that silenced the thing and swung out of bed. Katie's tousled head raised off the pillow to look at him. "I'm due back with Alex Salmond, you take the chance to get more sleep," he told her. "I'll leave a number on the table; it's for the law firm that manages the licensing for the tree energy scheme. Phone them and ask that they arrange for someone to accompany you to the police station." Katie nodded to show she understood and then her head fell back onto the pillow. Donnie listened to the news on the radio as he drove towards Edinburgh. The only item was of course the election results. With only three seats still to declare, the SNP was already confirmed as the party with the highest number of seats. Of the 126 seats so far declared, the numbers were: SNP – 55 Labour – 48 Conservative – 11 Liberal Democrat – 9 Green – 2 Independent – 1 The final three seats were predicted to be split, with the SNP getting one and Labour the other two. The result showed that, as in the UK elections in 2010, the Scots electorate had remained loyal to Labour despite the economic crisis. But both the SNP and Labour had achieved gains at the expense of the Conservatives and the Liberal Democrats. It looked as if the SNP could either go forward with another four years of minority government or enter into coalition with either the Conservatives or Lib Dems. Donnie knew that the SNP strategists had already undertaken preliminary work to consider a range of election results. The manifestoes of each of the other main parties had been analysed in minute detail – not just to try and find weaknesses that could be attacked during the campaign, but also to find common ground. Any coalition would involve a negotiated agreement on a programme for government and commonality could see an agreement reached much more quickly. Donnie also knew that Alex Salmond himself was dead set against any coalition, as he didn't want the public to associate the SNP with any of the other parties. When he rejoined the party leader, Donnie could feel the euphoria in the room at the election result. Most of the party big-wigs were milling around – quite a few of them sipping glasses of champagne, despite the early hour. Seeking out Salmond, Donnie asked for a brief word. "Congratulations, First Minister," he offered firstly. "We've done well, Donnie. You played your part in that don't forget," Salmond replied. "First Minister, there are some events that happened last night that I need to share with you. The press are likely to pick up on it, but I'm not sure they'll link me to the party." The smile left Salmond's face and he waved for Anthony Brown to join them. "Let's just step next door for this," Salmond suggested. Once they had some privacy Donnie explained what had happened to Katie and Rory. "So let me get this right. Someone attacked your fiancé in her student flat, threatened her with a knife and tried to rape her?" the First Minister checked. Donnie nodded. "Your dog defended her and killed the attacker by biting his throat, but in the process the 'rapist' stabbed your dog?" Donnie nodded again. "When the police showed up, they told you that the dog would have to be put down?" "That's what they said," Donnie confirmed. Salmond glanced at his special advisor. "Are you serious? The dog is a hero! Why would they want to have him put down? What's happened to him, where is he? Oh, I hope your fiancé is okay?" asked Salmond. "Em, Katie's fine. I got Rory patched up and then hid him away on my parent's farm. They will not take him away!" stated Donnie, emphatically. "I should bloody well hope not," agreed the FM. "I thought you might worry about negative spin by the media," Donnie suggested. "I'd like to see them try," the FM laughed. "You know what the public in this country think about their pets. If this comes out, they'll lap it up. Man's best friend saves woman from rapist, how do you put a negative spin on that? No, don't worry, Donnie. What do you think, Anthony?" "I agree, First Minister. In fact, we might want to plant a few hints in the right places ourselves. I don't think this would do us any harm at all." "Let's think about that," agreed Salmond. "Donnie, shouldn't you be comforting your fiancé instead of hanging around here? Nothing much will happen for a few days anyway. I need to give the impression that I'm seriously considering a coalition before I rule it out!" ------- "Let's just go back over that part of your statement about the dog first showing up behind your attacker," said the officer. "I just don't understand where he came from. Did your boyfriend leave him with you?" "No, he didn't," Katie answered. "And Mr McGregor lives what ... two miles or so away from the campus? So how does the dog know you're in trouble and how does he get to your flat? Come on, help me here," the officer prompted. "I've no idea," Katie admitted. "All I know is that I'm really glad he was there." "Has he done this before, turn up at your flat I mean?" "Never," Katie admitted. "Strange, don't you think?" "I've no idea where you're going with this, officer, but I fail to see why you are questioning my client on this. Katie has given you a statement and answered all of your questions. I think we should go now," advised Katie's solicitor. ------- Donnie wasn't sure whether Anthony Brown tipped off the press or not, but two days later when he took Katie back to the Alexander Court building to pack some things, they faced a number of journalists. Donnie reviewed his options for getting them away without answering any questions and had just decided to put the Polo into reverse gear when the goddess spoke to him. "Dòmhnall, it is important that you speak to these people. Good things will come as a result." "Was that her?" asked an excited Katie. "You heard that?" Donnie asked in surprise. "I sure did. She sounds ... old I guess," Katie observed. "Well, if you heard the goddess you'll know we're going to have to speak to these guys. Are you ready for that?" Donnie asked. "I can handle it. I'll have to phone mom as soon as possible though. If this gets into the newspapers and she somehow finds out that way, she'll kill me!" Donnie parked the car and they approached the entrance. Somehow the press knew who they were and they rushed forward, their hand-held recorders thrust towards Donnie and Katie. Donnie tried to establish some control. "Okay, okay. Let's try and keep this orderly so you get what you want and we can get on our way," he suggested. The press looked at him. On appearances he was a seventeen year-old boy. On presence and how he spoke so confidently, he was much older. Whatever it was, they decided to play along. "How will we do it then?" one asked. "We'll give you two questions each and that's it," Donnie suggested. "Two? Come on!" complained an older journo. "Look, there are six of you. That's twelve questions. You're bound to get all the main answers you're looking for," Donnie stuck to his guns. He pointed to the first journalist, his intention clear. "What's the dog's name?" Donnie thought quickly. "Ruaraidh. I'll spell that for you, it's the Gaelic spelling," he told them. Donnie thought that the SNP would appreciate his little attempt to promote the language. He pointed to the next journalist. "Is it true your attacker was armed?" "Yes, he had a knife. It was like a chef's knife," Katie answered. The next journalist in line didn't wait for Donnie to invite the question. "Did he try to rape you?" she asked. Katie took a moment and the journalists couldn't fail to see the look that crossed her face. "I opened the door and he smashed it into me, that's where I got this black eye. I fell to the floor and he leapt on top of me and ripped my blouse open. He grabbed my ... he grabbed me. I kicked him and managed to get away. There's no doubt he intended to rape me," Katie said quietly. Her pained expression got through to even the grizzled journalists amongst them and there was a brief silence before the next question was asked. "Apart from your eye, did he hurt you?" "I was lucky. He didn't get the chance to do any more," Katie answered. "Did you think you were going to die?" came the next question. Again Katie had to compose herself before answering such a searching question. "Yes. Yes I did. Before Rory showed up, I really thought he was going to kill me, especially when I saw the knife and the look in his eyes after I'd kicked him." They all considered that answer and Katie's haunted look and Donnie tightened his arm round her. "How exactly did the dog save you?" "As soon as he appeared, Rory tried to get the man's attention away from me," Katie explained. The reporters could see the young woman actually begin to smile as she remembered the Collie coming to her rescue. "I think he bit the man behind the knee," Katie added. "After that he did what he does best I guess. He began to herd the man out of the bedroom by snapping at him from different sides. I know it sounds strange, but I got the impression Rory just wanted to get him away from me." "Did you see the dog attack him?" came another question. "I followed to the door of the bedroom," Katie explained. "Rory feinted as if to bite the man's right leg. He had the knife in his right hand and when he pushed forward to try and stab Rory; Rory leapt forward and took hold of his throat." "Is that when Rory was stabbed?" asked one. Katie couldn't stop the sob that escaped her lips and the tears that began to stream down her cheeks. Donnie moved to pull her away from the journalists, but she stopped him and sniffed an answer to the question. "Yes ... I saw ... I saw the knife ... the man ... it went into Rory's chest! But he hung on ... he hung on. He wouldn't let go of his throat. He hung on ... I think I screamed and the man tried to look at me. That's when he dropped the knife. Then ... then he ... collapsed. His eyes ... his eyes were ... dull ... I think he was dead." "How do you feel about the dog?" Katie rubbed her streaming eyes and tried to focus on the questioner. Donnie began to feed some strength from his gifts into her to try and help. "How do I feel? How do you think I feel? Rory is a beautiful dog. He's lovable and that's how I already felt about him. But how would you feel if you thought you were about to be raped and killed and then your best friend appeared out of nowhere and saved you? How would you feel if your best friend took on a man armed with a knife to keep you safe? How would you feel if you saw your friend stabbed in the chest, taking the knife that was meant for you? You tell me. How would you feel?" The depth of feeling in Katie's words was hard hitting and the journalists were all suddenly examining their shoes, unable to meet her eyes. Eventually the next in line asked his second question, perhaps feeling guilty at the questions asked so far. "How is Rory doing now?" "I'm glad to say he's absolutely fine," Donnie answered, trying to take some of the weight off of Katie. "Is it true the police threatened to have him put down?" "Yes," Donnie answered flatly. "How do you feel about that?" "I think that sometimes the law can be an ass," Donnie replied. "There was no way I was going to let anyone touch my dog, no way! He means a lot to me, to us both. If another person had defended Katie like Rory did – he would be held up as a hero, not threatened with being put down." "Where is the hero now?" asked one of the pack. "I'm sorry, you've had all the questions we agreed to," said Donnie. "In any event, I wouldn't answer that one." Donnie urged Katie forward and they passed the journalists and entered the Alexander Court building. Some of Katie's friends came to offer support, but she tried to remain focused on packing everything that she would need so they could leave quickly. "Thanks for giving me your strength," she told Donnie. "I don't think I could have done that on my own." "You don't fool me," he chuckled. "Remember, you are of the Gregorach!" ------- Katie phoned her mother that night and explained what had happened. It took some effort to first of all convince her mother that she was okay and then secondly to stop her from flying to Scotland immediately. Donnie was up early and he bought copies of four morning newspapers. All of them carried the story of the attempted rape and Rory's heroic defence of Katie. All of them were slanted in a positive way and all painted a picture of Rory as the epitome of man's best friend. The couple left for the campus hoping that the press coverage would draw a line under things. Later that day, when they pulled up outside the apartment after a long day of lectures, Donnie and Katie found someone waiting for them. Donnie got out of the car and ran to hug the individual. "Archie! What are you doing here?" he asked. "It's good to see you too, Donnie. Can we get inside so I can have a brew?" Archie replied. "Of course! Katie, this is Archie Roy. I've told you about my trip to Pakistan and the minefield in Afghanistan – this is the idiot I helped on both occasions," Donnie explained. Once they were in the apartment, Donnie noticed that Archie was favouring his right leg. "What's wrong with your leg?" he asked as he filled the kettle. "You did warn me that you wouldn't always be there to save my ass," Archie laughed bitterly. "I took one in the leg a week after the minefield thing. The thigh-bone was shattered, I've been invalided out." "Out?" Donnie asked. "Three months ago," Archie confirmed. "Then why..." Donnie's question dried up even as it formed. He suspected his 'friend' had been hit hard by being medically discharged from the forces. It was possible that he might even harbour some resentment that Donnie hadn't saved him for a third time. "Anyway," said Archie, trying to shift the focus of the conversation. "I wasn't going to try and contact you. I promised myself that you didn't need an old cripple getting in the way of your bright future, then I saw today's paper – you need some security advice." "Dòmhnall, meet your new head of security. You know what to do." Katie's quick glance told Donnie that she had heard Beira again. "Archie. Stand up for a minute," he said. Archie hesitated, but then struggled to his feet. Donnie stepped forward and hugged the older man. "How would you like to be my head of security," he asked as he poured wave after wave of healing power into Archie's leg. Archie stiffened and then relaxed as he suspected what Donnie was doing and he felt the aching pain disappearing from his leg. ------- Chapter 18 "Damn! That feels good," said Archie. "I didn't think you would be able to do that so long after I got the injury." "You're as fit now as you ever were," Donnie told him. "Well enough to get back into service if that's what you wanted." Archie thought about that for a few moments. "That's a tough one!" he admitted. "I've been struggling to adjust to being out of the front line. Civilian life is ... difficult. It seems flat and boring when you're used to the adrenaline rush of being in a fire-fight." "We'll understand if that's what you want," Donnie sympathised. "There are no strings attached to my having healed you." "No, you're picking me up wrong, I haven't decided yet. I am finding it difficult, but somehow I seem to be connected to you. Tell me a little more about what this head of security job involves." "What you said about the newspaper story is only part of it," Donnie told him. "I want to make sure that Katie is never in a position like that again. There's more however. I own a company and we're just about to expand a major building project. My personal worth is going to rise to over £20million in the next few days and to over £200million within another six months. I guess that could make me a target and we don't have the first idea about personal security." Archie whistled at the figures Donnie quoted. "If you're serious about the amount of money, then you're right. You are definitely a target – the potential for a ransom alone puts you and those close to you in the firing line. I wouldn't be able to cover all of this on my own though. What kind of budget would I have?" Archie asked. "I've got no idea what kind of costs you are likely to run up," Donnie laughed. "Why don't you work out what you think you'll need and then we can talk about money?" "I know there are a couple of guys from the stick you pulled out of the minefield who might be available," Archie thought aloud. "They're both local lads actually – Davie Lawrence and Mark Petrie." By the time Archie left, he was already formulating plans in his head and reviewing people he had served with who might bolster a security squad. Costs were also part of his thinking, but the figures Donnie had quoted suggested money wouldn't be a problem. While Donnie saw Archie to the door, Katie was tapping away quickly on her iPad, linked to the Internet via their wireless connection. "What you doing?" Donnie asked when he returned to the sitting room. Instead of answering, Katie asked a question of her own. "What was the girl's name again? The one from the plane crash?" "Vivien Dunn," Donnie answered. "Yes, Dunn, that was it," Katie repeated absently as she pecked away at her screen. Still intrigued by what Katie was up to, Donnie crossed so he could see the iPad screen over her shoulder. "Something about the story you told little Alan has been bugging me," Katie explained. "You know, about the McGregors' using other names. I'm looking up septs." The image on the screen changed to display a wikipedia page for Clan Gregor and Katie scrolled down to a section headed 'Septs'. "There!" she cried with excitement. "What?" Donnie asked. "Can't you see it?" Katie asked. "There – Roy and there Dunn and the other two names Archie mentioned – Lawrence and Petrie – look, there they are!" Donnie scratched his head as he picked out the names on the screen as Katie called them out. "But no McStay as far as I can see," he pointed out. "Didn't you say that those were the McGregors who didn't change their name? Maybe that's why it doesn't appear?" Katie argued. "So what you're saying is that we seem to be attracting people who are all linked in some way to the McGregor Clan?" Donnie put into words what they were both thinking. "Exactly!" said Katie. ------- Carol was pleased by the significant improvement in progress on the building work. The concrete base for the silo was in place and the sides were being poured in sections. The anchors for the growing frames were sunk and they supported the split of each one acre 'layer' into fifty different 'pods'. That allowed a hydraulic system to move them around. The heating and lighting kit was built-in to the underside of each pod, positioned so that they cultivated the pod below. The system would ultimately slide each pod under the static harvester and then shuttle the used pod aside to make room for the next. Good progress had also been made on drilling the narrow gauge, deep bore holes that were intended to tap into the heat from the Earth's core. That would cut down on the amount of tree energy that would be required and make each silo that much more efficient. A lattice of steel beams at the top of the silo would eventually allow a surface to be re-instated so the entire thirty-three acres would still be utilised for surface farming and building under the re-inforced domes. The steel for each silo was being delivered pre-cut and construction was almost like a giant kit. Carol estimated that this first silo could actually be in production within three months. ------- Donnie sat and watched the celebrations on TV with satisfaction. Glasgow Rangers had just clinched the Scottish football championship, which was the final part of his accumulator as Arsenal had already won the equivalent in England. At the end of the day Donnie had opted not to split up his bets into smaller stakes after he had found one on-line bookmaker willing to accept the full £10k bet. "I'm glad I remembered to pay the tax on the bet!" Donnie laughed inwardly, as he now had the funds necessary to ramp things up on the building project. There would also be enough money to fund whatever security operation that Archie wanted to put in place. The next item on the news wasn't such a happy one for Donnie. ... yet another report of unrest in several of the major cities within Saudi Arabia. With oil wells still alight in troubled Libya and problems in the Delta region of Nigeria, pressure is on the Kingdom to increase its production of oil to help stabilise world oil prices. The Middle East remained something of a powder keg it seemed, with the Yemen the latest country to see internal warfare on a significant scale. The military were still in control in Egypt, with democratic elections promised within six months. Food inflation in the UK was also spiralling and when that was combined by fuel prices that were continuing to rise; the ordinary man in the street was finding it very difficult to make ends meet. "I wonder if dad is still being bothered by poachers?" Donnie wondered. Long range weather forecasts were predicting record rainfall for the UK over the summer of 2011 and farmers were already warning about failed crops and very low yields. Their view was that this was all going to conspire to push food prices even higher. The Westminster government's cuts were starting to bite and every trades union was on full alert to try and make life difficult. With pay increases frozen, pensions being attacked and massive job losses, the industrial relations climate across Britain was deteriorating rapidly. The Police Federation in particular was making much of a 20 percent cut in police budgets. The Chairman of the Federation warned that this would lead to a loss of 12,000 officers on the streets and he linked that to the overall difficult economic conditions, suggesting that a crime wave was inevitable. The Government's attack on public sector pensions was another flash-point and it seemed that months of strikes by civil servants were in the offing for the autumn. For Donnie and Katie, another aspect of the Westminster Government's austerity measures was much closer to home. A policy of significantly increasing the fees universities could charge for tuition was absolute anathema to students and they were organised the length and breadth of the country. Sit-ins and rallies had been organised. Although Donnie and Katie had not participated in any of these protests as yet, they had watched the mass rallies in London that had degenerated into fighting between the police and students. There was even an attack by students on a car containing Prince Charles. June brought the end of Donnie's first year at Stirling, although for him, it was more like a year and a half as he had worked to amass more credits than would have been normal. That was all part of his plan to finish his combined honours degree in two years of study. June also brought an interesting conversation with the goddess, one that had Donnie hugely excited. "Dòmhnall, look at this and listen carefully." The picture of a huge vessel of some description appeared in Donnie's head. The vessel had a hopper and a strange series of output valves of different types. "You remember your speech at the SNP fringe? You criticised the party for not investing enough in research. I want you to use some of your new capital money to do just that – to invest in a research project. I want you to find someone who can make a breakthrough in recycling. "The picture I have shown you is of a vessel that will take any material and reduce it to its constituent parts. Tell your researcher to think about the principles behind a mass spectrometer – that should get them started on the right road. With this device, you should be able to process rubbish and scrap to recover all of the raw materials you will ever need. In a few years time that will be very important and the scale will be about right." Donnie thought back to the daydream he had let himself play with a few weeks before. He knew that having to import raw materials was a huge factor in economic performance. If it was possible to create something like the goddess described, the possibilities were endless. A quick check on the Internet told Donnie what the basic principles were of mass spectrometry. Particles were ionised and then a magnetic field was used to separate out the various elements. Donnie could see that the approach was used for very small samples and he guessed that there would be huge difficulties in translating anything like this into the scale Beira was suggesting. But, if the goddess wanted him to do it, he would give it a try. ------- Archie was able to recruit both Davie Lawrence and Mark Petrie so that Donnie's security detail now had three very experienced former soldiers, one a veteran of the Special Air Service (SAS) in it. With only three, Archie tasked Davie to be personal protection for Katie, Mark was assigned to the Ardbrecknish site and he himself decided to cover Donnie's safety. The Ardbrecknish site was a mystery to Archie. He had looked at the drawings for the site and had discussed the expansion plans with Carol. Despite that, he was puzzled by what Donnie was trying to do. His inability to work things out was annoying for someone responsible for security, so he sought out Donnie to try and get some answers. "You continually describe the Ardbrecknish site as the wheat production site and I've seen the first silo and the designs for how it works," Archie opened, "What puzzles me is the number of silos you're planning and the scale of the other buildings. It almost looks as if you're planning a commune or a compound of some kind." To Archie's surprise, Donnie's face lit up as if a penny had just dropped somewhere. "What did you call it?" Donnie asked excitedly. "Well, a compound or a commune. With the addition of a crèche and a school – as well as all of the living accommodation, it looks to me like you're planning on having a self-sufficient community there." "Well I'll be..." Donnie exclaimed. "What?" Archie asked, confused. "I think you're right. I think that's exactly what we're building, but I didn't realise it before now," said Donnie. "If that's the plan, then I think I really need to be involved before it goes any further," Archie demanded. "So far as I can see, no-one has thought about security for the finished compound." "I can see that that would make sense," Donnie agreed. "What kind of situation should I be thinking of when I'm designing the security?" Archie asked. Donnie's blank look made it clear that he didn't fully understand the question. "Is the compound likely to be subjected to attack? If so, by what kind of force?" Archie tried to make his question clearer. Donnie's face went blank once more, but after a few moments it seemed to lose all of colour altogether and he looked at Archie with a stunned expression. "Archie, could you let me think about that for a little? I really need some time alone just now," said Donnie. Archie was growing used to his boss's strange ways and simply shrugged and left Donnie to his own devices in the apartment. "Is that it? Is that what the goddess won't tell me? Is it possible that things are going to get so bad that we have to retreat into a self-contained bunker? What could possibly cause that?" he asked himself. "You are doing well so far, Dòmhnall. Don't try and get ahead of yourself. Let things play out the way I have planned them." ------- As predicted by the weather forecasters, the summer months proved to be unusually wet in the UK that year. Torrential downpours falling onto bone-dry ground meant that rainfall tended not to soak away, but instead was gathered by ground contours and turned into flash-floods Crops were flooded and the lack of sunshine stunted growth. As a result the average harvest of all of the UK's main food crops was significantly down and large supermarket chains had to scramble to try and source key staples from elsewhere around the world. Importing more food could only lead to a further hike in prices for consumers. Finding alternative sources wasn't always easy either. Donnie watched one news report that described the possibility of a repeat of the 1930s Dust-Bowl disaster in the American Midwest. ... scientists are reporting that cooler than normal temperatures in the Pacific Ocean, combined with warmer conditions in the Atlantic have led to a shift in the gulf stream. That means that the normally moisture rich air from the Gulf of Mexico is much drier – an almost exact replication of the conditions that led to years of drought in the Midwest during the dust-bowl years... Reports suggested that wheat production across Europe was significantly down too and early monsoons had devastated the crop in the third biggest world wheat producer, India. Donnie noticed for the first time that news reports were suggesting the real possibility of bread shortages. "Have things really got that bad, so quickly?" His continuing work with the First Minister gave Donnie an insight into information that most didn't. Official governmental statistics told a story of extremely weak home production figures, huge losses for farmers (for which they were looking for European/UK compensation) and a bleak outlook for food stocks over the coming winter. In August, just weeks after Donnie's eighteenth birthday, the unthinkable happened. ... fighting between government forces and protesters in the two holy cities of Medina and Mecca has resulted in the deaths of more than two hundred. Meanwhile, in Riyadh the government tried to appease protesters by actually giving food away, but that didn't stop a mass rally in the centre of the city and an attack on the mayor... ------- Donnie and Katie had spent most of the summer months helping around the farm and spoiling a happy Rory. Both of them knew that things would gear up again when they returned to Stirling in September so were determined to make the most of the time they had. They packed a picnic lunch and climbed Craig Bheithe Hill, Rory racing around chasing sticks that they threw. Both of them fed the Collie titbits as they enjoyed the sunshine. "Has the goddess explained Rory's brand?" Katie asked. Donnie knew the answer was 'no', but before he could give it, another voice sounded in his head. "Dòmhnall, I have need of your service." Donnie heard a plaintive cry from Katie... "Doooonnnnie!" ------- Bradford, England - August 2011 "I've transported you to this building site for a reason. There are five people inside this Portacabin and you need to hear what they are saying." That explained the feel of the material under Donnie and he realised he was lying face down on the roof of a pre-fabricated structure, presumably the Portacabin that Beira had referred to. Donnie strained his ears to hear all of the conversation below. " ... two most common weak points are. Either the security forces already suspect someone on the team and have them under surveillance or someone reports something suspicious when they're buying the components for the bomb and/or putting them together." "That's why I've called us together today, Mansoor. Inshallah, we can deliver a memorable lesson to the infidels. Each of you needs to be able to supply a virgin, someone you have only recently converted to radicalism and who has not yet been associated with any of those who have returned to Pakistan for training. These people must be absolutely clean. I have a source of explosives and detonators." Donnie could hear the excitement that this statement created, as a hubbub of voices followed, with everyone apparently trying to speak at once. "Quiet! Quiet! One at a time please! Rubel, you first." "How can you have access to explosives, Ali? Where would you get such a thing?" asked Rubel. "The prophet provides, my friend. I was asked to take on an honour killing in Glasgow. An infidel assaulted one of the faithful and made vile comments about Islam, all in front of members of the family of the girl this boy is to marry. When I had someone research the background of the infidel, I found that he is in a similar business to myself – construction – but that he has another specialty – demolition. I will take on the honour killing, but before he dies, Inshallah, the infidel will provide the explosives," answered Ali "Why four? Why do you want four for what you have planned?" asked another voice that Donnie hadn't heard yet. "A good question, Rahim. I have two targets in mind and there should be two bombers for each just in case one doesn't have the nerve to go through with it," Ali replied. "And what targets have you chosen?" asked yet another voice. "You will need to be patient for that, Iqbal. I will tell no one what the targets are, not even any of you. You will find out after the martyrs have carried out their objectives," Ali responded. "If you want virgins, how will you manage to train them?" asked Mansoor. "There will be no need for training. Before he dies, the infidel will wire up enough explosives for four vests. He will fit each charge with a simple detonator. All our people will need to do is wear the vests and press a button when the time is right," Ali told him. Again Donnie heard the excited chatter that this statement created inside the Portacabin. "When? When do you need these people from us, Ali?" Mansoor eventually made himself heard. "It must be soon, within the next two weeks. Once the honour killing is carried out, the police will be all over the infidel's life and they will discover the missing explosives. This needs to be done quickly or we will miss a great opportunity!" "It is hurried and very simple in its conception, but that very simplicity could well make this work. I will find you a martyr, Ali," said Rahim. Donnie heard the others also pledge to provide a volunteer. He prepared himself to crawl to the edge of the roof in order to try and catch sight of the five men as they left the Portacabin. "There is no need for that, Dòmhnall. I have other ways of showing you what they look like. It is time for you to return to the nighean ruadh." Donnie felt his stomach lurch and then he was back on Craig Bheithe Hill with Katie and Rory. ------- "Oh! I'm sorry for squealing. I heard the goddess speaking just then. When she said she had need of your service, I thought she was going to transport you away somewhere," Katie explained somewhat sheepishly. Donnie realised that no time had passed while Beira had sent him to listen to the Islamists plotting. He turned to look at Katie. "No need to apologise. That's exactly what just happened," he admitted. "You did hear her and she did transport me somewhere." "But you haven't moved!" Katie exclaimed. "That's how it seems to work most of the time. I think time did pass on my very first trip, but since then I seem to go and come back with no time lost. The goddess does normally make sure I'm somewhere that no one could see me disappear though. I guess she's just ultra cautious, but since you know what's going on she didn't mind transporting me with you here," said Donnie. Katie tried to take in what he was saying, still trying to come to terms with what the goddess could do. "So where did she send you? What service did you have to perform?" Katie asked at last. Donnie explained the discussion Beira had allowed him to eavesdrop on and the fact that the goddess had told him she could let him see what the five plotters looked like. "But what good can you do with this?" Katie asked. "From what you've said, you don't know who these men are, you don't know who they are going to target to get the explosives, you don't know who is going to be selected to carry the bombs and you don't even know what the targets are going to be!" Donnie gave a long-suffering snort. "Welcome to the world of the goddess! That's how she works. She obviously wants me to do something about this, but I'm going to have to work for it. She rarely makes things easy or obvious," Donnie complained. "Maybe we should share this with Archie?" Katie suggested. "Isn't this more his line of work?" "That's a great idea! Why didn't I think of that?" Donnie asked, slapping his hand against his forehead. Later the same evening Beira flashed images of the five Asians onto Donnie's iPad screen and he captured each one, saving them into a folder that he immediately copied onto an encrypted USB stick then wiped from his tablet. The discussion in the Portacabin had suggested things were going to happen quickly, so Donnie knew he had little time to enlist Archie's help. He knew that the ex-SAS man was around somewhere, as his primary task was to keep Donnie safe. Archie wasn't sleeping at the farmhouse though. In fact, Donnie suspected that he was camped out somewhere – taking the opportunity to refresh some of his fieldwork skills perhaps. Going to the door of the farm, Donnie stood and waved both hands above his head. He repeated the gesture for several minutes, but got no response. Walking beyond the main barn, he tried again, but with similar results. "It's just as well I'm not under attack! Some personal security he is." Giving up, Donnie returned to the farmhouse and closed the door behind him. "Don't do that kind of thing." Archie's quiet voice made Donnie jump and he whirled to find his friend leaning against the wall behind the front door. "How the hell did you get in here? You scared the shit out of me! Don't do that!" Donnie blustered. Archie snickered at his discomfort and then got serious again. "Don't do that – the waving the arms thing – don't do it again. If anyone is watching this place, they've now got a good idea that you have someone out there covering you. I'd rather keep my presence a surprise if you don't mind. Now, I take it you needed to speak to me?" Archie asked. "Shit! My heart is still racing," Donnie replied. Donnie led Archie upstairs to his room and gestured that he should take a seat on the bed. Donnie sat at his little desk and began to re-tell his story about overhearing the plans for two terrorist attacks. "These are the five people in the Portacabin," Donnie finished, flashing the images from the USB stick onto his iPad screen. "Donnie, I've seen you do some weird stuff. You appeared and disappeared in the mountains of Waziristan as if you're Captain James T Kirk himself with your own transporter room. You've healed wounds and even re-grown someone's leg. I'm sure there's more of that weird stuff behind how you got this, and that's going to make things difficult," said Archie. "What do you mean?" asked Donnie. "Well, what you've told me, particularly with those images, is probably enough for the security services to get a fix on these people and do something about their plans. I even know people I can speak to that would get the information into the right hands, but they're going to want to know where I got it from," Archie explained. "Oh, I see what you mean," Donnie acknowledged. "I'm right, aren't I? You got this by using your mumbo-jumbo, your Mojo or whatever it is you call it?" Archie asked. Donnie looked at him. At only five foot ten and not very heavily built, Archie didn't look at all like what he expected a special forces operative to look like. When he reached Archie's eyes, however, the doubt ended. The flinty look there told of a warrior who had looked into the face of hell, the face of death, and smiled. Those flinty eyes were now expecting an answer from him and Donnie hurried to oblige. "Yes," Donnie admitted. He had an idea though and quickly shared it with Archie. "Couldn't you say that you're now in private security and you stumbled across this while working on something else?" Archie thought about that and Donnie rushed on, trying to embellish his initial idea. "You are in private security now – for Gregorach Enterprises – and the leader, this Ali, did say he was something to do with the building trade. He said he was in a similar business to the man they're planning on getting the explosives from. Couldn't you say you were checking into the background of the company and the sub-contractors who're working for me?" Archie didn't let Donnie know that he already was running checks on all of those working at the Ardbrecknish site. "The people I know would want a time and location for this meeting as a minimum," Archie responded to Donnie's idea. "Can you give me that at least?" Donnie thought about that. "The meeting took place at 14:00 today, Dòmhnall. The Portacabin is on a building site between Leeds and Bradford." "Thank you, goddess." "I think the meeting was today, around 2PM," Donnie told Archie. "I don't know the precise location, but it was held in a Portacabin on a large building site between Leeds and Bradford." "And where were you? How did you hear all of this?" Archie demanded. "I was ... err, I was lying on the roof of the Portacabin." Archie shook his head in disgust. "I had you under observation all day. It's impossible that you could have been to Bradford and back. You couldn't even have gone to have a pee in the woods without me knowing. So it was the Mojo at work. How am I supposed to look after your safety if you can just transport yourself somewhere at will without me knowing?" The flinty eyes were conveying Archie's anger. He took his responsibilities seriously and Donnie's abilities were making a mockery of that. Donnie fought back, however. "Archie, I didn't hire you to look after me. I didn't need you looking out for me in Waziristan or Afghanistan. In fact, if I remember rightly, I looked after you on both occasions! Let's stick to trying to come up with a solution to dealing with the possible terrorist threat, shall we?" The veteran trooper was actually taken aback by the intensity that Donnie was able to project, but he had to admit to himself that the words were true. Donnie had saved him on both occasions. "Maybe I need to reconsider the personal safety thing?" Archie thought. Aloud, he agreed with Donnie about dealing with the potential threat. "Okay, you got it. Let's try your approach. I'll need to go into Edinburgh or Glasgow to make some calls though. I don't want them to be able to triangulate my phone and find you and the farm. Can you print me out copies of the images?" "Will you go tonight?" Donnie asked, anxious to set things moving as quickly as possible. "That's what I'm thinking," Archie concurred. "Will you be okay looking after Katie?" "Nothing will get past me, not even you!" Donnie answered. "Don't get cocky, Donnie. I walked past you to get inside the door half an hour ago. You're not that good and she deserves that you take this seriously!" Donnie looked suitably contrite, recognising that Archie had frightened the life out of him by being inside the farmhouse door. ------- Archie drove to Glasgow and stopped at a large Walmart store on the north side of the city. After a quick review of their stock, he purchased three cheap pay as you go mobile phones. The assistant gave him a curious look, but Archie wasn't too concerned about being remembered. He wasn't doing anything illegal ... this time ... his service had seen him do so in a number of countries in the past. He bought a BigMac from the franchise that was part of the Walmart store and ate that while he put the SIM cards in the phones and made sure they were working. When he found each phone completely dead, Archie returned to the store and bought an in-car charger with a universal fitting. Half an hour later, each of the phones had enough charge for his purposes and Archie made his first call. "This is Bamber35, I have intel on Tangoes5 for immediate targeting. I need a patch to the nearest IFF. Squawk in 5." Archie ended the call and smiled to himself. The number he had called was an emergency number that all special forces troops were given. Even if the number had changed recently, he knew old numbers were still monitored religiously for circumstances just like these. The code he had used was 'open code' or more properly not a code at all, but rather organisational jargon. Bamber35 had been his own identifier in Pakistan and Afghanistan. Intel was merely short for 'intelligence'. 'Tangoes5' told the recipient that the message was about five terrorists and 'immediate targeting' was the phrase Archie would have used to call up an air strike when 'in-country'. A 'patch to the nearest IFF' was how he would have asked for his frequency to be passed to the nearest airborne asset. 'Squawk in 5' meant that he would try to contact any attack planes or helicopters on that frequency after five minutes. Archie was hoping that his use of the jargon would be understood now that he had used it completely out of context. This was not Afghanistan, but in essence he was telling a 'handler' that he was a known operative, that he had intelligence on five terrorists that needed urgent action and that he needed to speak to someone who could do something about it as quickly as possible. Finally, his message told the handler that he would call back in five minutes. Archie let five minutes pass and then hit redial on the phone. "This is Bamber35..." Archie heard the voice cut across him and he shut up immediately. "Acknowledged Bamber35. Switch to source plus3, minus5, plus7. Repeat, switch to source plus3, minus5, plus7." The line went dead and Archie ripped the back from the phone so he could remove the SIM. He got out of the car and dropped the phone in a nearby trashcan then drove out of the Walmart car park. Four miles further into Glasgow City Centre, Archie pulled to a stop at a deserted bus station and threw the SIM into another trashcan. Finding another large store, this one a TESCO, Archie parked up and prepared to make his next call. "Shit, I need to get this right. He said plus, minus, plus so I need to reverse the instructions." Archie dialled the original 'source' number but took 3 off of the third last digit, added 5 onto the second last and took 7 off of the last. "Bamber35, I am hot and need extraction," he said as soon as a connection was made. "Acknowledged, Bamber35. Confirm DMZ and give an RDV." "DMZ confirmed for now, RDV Govan civil," Archie replied. Acknowledge Govan civil. Squawk5." Archie broke the connection again. His use of 'hot' and 'extraction' were terms that would normally mean that he needed to be airlifted to safety and that any helicopter that was dispatched to get him would be under fire when it came in for the pick-up. The handler had asked him to confirm he was in no immediate danger (DMZ = Demilitarised Zone) and to give a RDV or rendezvous location. Archie hoped that his jargon had conveyed the fact that his information was extremely urgent and had to be acted upon at once by him meeting someone in support. His use of Govan civil indicated that he would be willing to meet at the police station in the Govan district of Glasgow. The final 'squawk5' was simply to tell him to call back in five minutes to confirm a meeting could be arranged, Five minutes later, Archie hit redial once again. This time he remained silent and let the 'handler' speak. "Confirm Govan civil in 120 minus1, minus8, plus5." Archie cut the connection and dismantled the mobile once again. "Minus, minus, plus – that means keep it as it is - so one minus one, two minus eight and zero plus five = Zero, minus six, five. Ignore the minus, meeting in 65 minutes." Archie was in position and walked into Govan Police Station exactly 65 minutes later. He approached the desk Sergeant and saw that the man was nervous. "Evening, Sergeant, I'm Bamber35. I'm supposed to..." A door to the side of the desk opened and a shadowy figure waved Archie forward. He followed and was shown into what he guessed was an interview room. The shadowy figure was revealed as a man in jeans and leather jacket. Archie estimated his boyish features at about early thirties. They both sat down, eyeing each other for a few moments until the 'boy' spoke. "You're a long way from Waziristan and Afghanistan, Bamber35. Given the codes you used to get me here so quickly, this had better be bloody good!" Archie felt a surge of anger. "When was the last time you were pinned down by enemy fire, sonny?" he asked. "Some of us, the ones with more than one or two brain-cells, manage to keep ourselves out of such situations. What's your point dinosaur?" "My point, sonny, is that when you've shown you can keep your nerve under fire you don't cry wolf over something unimportant. Now, do you want the intel or not?" Archie asked, belligerently. The 'boy' had the good grace to blush and then nod, a modicum of respect apparent now on his face. Archie reached inside his jacket and placed the printed images of the five Asian men on the table in front of the 'boy'. "You know I'm out?" Archie asked. 'Boy' nodded. "I'm working private security now. The job I'm on required some background checks on a building company. Today – at 15:00 to be precise – I undertook covert surveillance on a meeting that took place on a building site between Leeds and Bradford, a big site. These five met. I don't know who they are other than first names: Ali, Rahim, Mansoor, Iqbal and Rubel." "What are they up to that we would be interested in?" 'boy' asked. "It seems that Ali has taken a contract to perform an honour killing here in Glasgow. The target is apparently also in construction, but he has a sideline in demolition," Archie explained. He saw that the 'boy' sat up straighter at the mention of the word demolition. "From what I heard," Archie continued, "they are going to torture the victim to get explosives and to have him make up four vests. They'll identify four 'virgins' that have no connection to anything you're currently looking at and they'll hit two targets – two pairs for redundancy. No training, minimum of organisation. Timescales – within the next week, possibly two," Archie finished. 'Boy' was writing furiously now. When Archie stopped, he looked up. "That's all? What about the targets? A name for the honour contract? Any names for the 'virgins'?" "That's all I've got and you're getting it as quickly as I could manage. The rest is up to you," Archie advised. "What about the building site?" 'boy' asked. Archie shook his head. "I was mobile; it was improvisation time so I'm not exactly sure. I'm certain you'll be able to find it easily enough." 'Boy' pulled out his mobile and began dialling. Archie took that as his cue to leave. ------- Chapter 19 ... these satellite images show the Saudi oilfields burning fiercely and are confirmation that things in the Kingdom seem to be turning badly against the Royal family there. Despite spending billions of dollars to try and appease anti-government feeling, the movement for more democracy continues to gather support. In other news... Donnie and Archie were watching the TV in the Bridge-of-Allan apartment, waiting for some sign that Donnie's intelligence had led to action against the Asians, but so far nothing had shown up. Instead they were watching as the Middle East continued to descend into chaos and world oil supplies were being severely disrupted. The UK Government had already taken steps to stop the sale of all North Sea crude and was now refining the home produced oil to satisfy UK demand. The 'sweeter' crude was normally sold at a premium and cheaper crude bought for the home market, but that was all changing. "Things might be about to get even worse for the UK if this man is allowed to carry out his plans." The image of an Asian man appeared in Donnie's head. As Donnie 'watched' the man climbed a set of metal ladders onto a piece of plant. His view pulled back and Donnie could see a number of huge cooling towers and what looked like dozens of tall gas flares. "This is Grangemouth. This is one of ten refineries in the UK and it is the only one that has a direct link via pipeline to the crude oil coming out of the North Sea. This man is Masood Tangir. He is employed at Grangemouth as a maintenance engineer. Next Thursday he will make adjustments to a number of valves and set a small fire that will result in this whole refinery being destroyed." "Can you give me any other information, goddess?" "That should be enough, Dòmhnall. Have Archie use his contacts again and stop this attack before it kills hundreds of people." Donnie realised that the goddess had given him all that she was going to. He turned to Archie. "Archie, I've got details of another terrorist attack that's being planned." Archie gave him a strange look. "Are you trying to tell me that you've just been away on another 'jaunt' while we've both been sitting here watching the news?" Archie asked in disbelief. "Not this time," Donnie smiled. "Don't ask me how I know, I just do okay? There's a man employed at the Grangemouth Refinery called Masood Tangir. He works in maintenance. He's planning on sabotaging the refinery in such a way as to make it blow up. I think he plans to do this within the next week or so." "Are you sure?" Archie asked. "Of course I am," Donnie answered. Archie nodded his head. "Yes, of course you are. It's the Mojo again, isn't it? How am I going to explain this one?" Archie asked. "One tip-off to the security forces might be accepted, but two within a matter of weeks is going to make them very suspicious about me, never mind the targets I'm feeding them!" "Perhaps we could just make an anonymous call on this one?" Donnie suggested. Archie shook his head. "If you're right and he's going to do this within the next week, then we can't take the risk that an anonymous call will be acted upon quickly enough," he said. "No, I'm going to have to make some more calls. I guess I'll just have to live with the consequences." With a sigh, Archie grabbed his jacket and headed out to make a return trip to Glasgow. He purchased some additional pay-as-you-go mobiles at a 24hour ASDA supermarket and charged them up again in the car. Taking a chance, Archie dialled the new number he had been given the week before rather than the original emergency number. When it connected immediately, he gave a sigh of relief. "This is Bamber35," Archie began. Before he could say anything further, the 'handler' cut him off. "You know better than to make a nuisance of yourself tying up lines like this, Bamber35. I can't give you any information on active operations, so you'll have to watch the news like everybody else." Archie cursed under his breath. He could swear that it was 'sonny' on the other end of the line and he could imagine the smug, self-important, grin that the man was probably wearing right then. Trying to remain professional, Archie started his contact over again. "This is Bamber35, I have intel on Tango1 for immediate targeting." This time Archie's report was interrupted by a curse from the other end of the line. He smiled to himself, thinking 'sonny's' smug grin might just have faded. "Bamber35 requests a repeat prescription," Archie continued. "When?" the voice on the phone asked. "In 220 minus2, minus0, plus0," Archie answered. "Acknowledged, Bamber35." Archie smiled in satisfaction. 'Repeat prescription' was jargon for basically repeating the last recorded activity – in his case a further meeting at the Govan Police Station. He had gambled in giving the coded Signal for only twenty minutes, believing 'sonny' would pull out the stops to make himself available. "I can't believe that idiot thought I was phoning him for an update! How stupid does he think I am?" Exactly twenty minutes later, Archie walked through the main entrance to the police station once more. He didn't make for the desk this time, but instead headed for the door he had used on his last visit. It opened as he approached and the boyish features of 'sonny' glowered at him in welcome. Once they were safely inside an interview room, 'sonny' spat out a warning. "You'd better not be playing games, Roy. My time is too precious to be used feeding your needy little ego!" Archie clenched his teeth and tried to count to ten before responding. "I'm Bamber35 to you, don't forget it again," he said, pointing out to 'sonny' that he had breached protocols by using Archie's name. "I'm too professional to need my ego boosted on something as important as this. I'll wait for the results of my last information to make the news; I don't need updates from you. Now, do you want my latest intel or not?" Sonny wasn't happy at Archie's tone, but he knew he had to suck it up if he wanted what Archie had. He nodded to indicate that Archie should continue. "Grangemouth Refinery. Maintenance man by the name of Masood Tangir. He's planning a spectacular sometime over the next week," said Archie. "And how do you know this?" sonny asked. "You come across all kinds of interesting stuff in private security," Archie lied. "I need more than this," sonny whined. "We can't act on you randomly fingering an individual." "I would hope my past record speaks for itself," Archie responded. "That's all I have, it's up to you what you do with it." ------- "It looks like it's begun," Donnie said. Archie nodded and they both focused on the TV screen and the reporter. Katie leaned up against the kitchen doorway, the pasta she was making forgotten for the moment. ... identified as Martin Bronkle, a thirty-seven year old from Glasgow. Police are saying that this was a particularly brutal murder and that it bears all the hallmarks of a so-called honour killing... The report re-hashed other incidents in Glasgow over the past few years that highlighted the tensions between a small part of the Asian community and equally disreputable elements of the indigenous youth. "Why didn't the security forces stop it?" Katie asked in alarm. Archie turned to look at her. "Probably because they haven't identified all of those involved in the planned terrorist attacks," he guessed. "They'll be following the explosives now, waiting for their chance to take all of them down at once." "But they've just let that man be killed!" Katie complained. "That's how they work, Katie. They're cold and calculating. What's one life when they can save many by letting things play out a little more?" Archie asked. Katie turned away from the TV in disgust. "That's not the way the public thinks. That man had the right to expect the police to protect him – what about his family? Try telling them his death was necessary for the greater good! It stinks if you ask me," she threw over her shoulder. ------- The following week was busy for Donnie and Katie as they completed all of the necessary administration for their return to Stirling Uni. For Katie it would be her penultimate year and for Donnie, hopefully, his second and last year if he successfully completed the credits necessary for his combined honours degree. Archie had all but disappeared from sight after telling Donnie that he was sure that he was now under surveillance and that his home phone was almost certainly 'tapped'. "I need to just drop out of sight for a while," he told Donnie. "I knew they would get interested in me after two tip-offs." The distraction of the two separate terror plots also came to a head and Donnie was glad that they ended well and he could put them behind him. Both were reported on the same day. with at first only sketchy details released. Eventually, as the day wore on, more and more details became available and TV news showed aerial footage of a number of addresses that had been raided simultaneously. Talking head after talking head appeared on TV to rake over how young Asians were being radicalised and what the government should be doing to stop it. The four 'virgins' and Masood Tangir had been born and raised in the UK, so the public were struggling to understand why they would want to carry out such acts of terror. When reports speculated that the targets included Grangemouth, the nuclear power stations at Sizewell and Glasgow Airport, further 'experts' were trotted out to give their estimates of what the damage could have been. Douglas McGregor watched all of the drama unfolding on the news and had to phone Donnie to share his views. "And no doubt they targeted Glasgow Airport to try and make a point after the last attempt there was foiled by John Smeaton, but a nuclear power station? Why do these people hate the UK so much? They were born here, educated here – some of them very well from what the TV is saying – yet they want to kill us. Why?" "I've no idea, dad," Donnie answered. "I think they're minds have been poisoned by some extremely radical people. They don't care – I mean, they would be killing innocent Muslims as well with these attacks. It just doesn't make any sense." Another 'by-product' of the news reports was increased tension between young people in the Asian and white communities, particularly in areas with a high density of Asian population. These tensions were something that elements such as the British National Party (BNP) did their utmost to exploit. Over the course of the next few weeks, the right-wing fascists of the BNP organised various rallies and marches to promote 'British-ness', but all of them had a nasty undercurrent of blatant racism. The police had their work cut out for them when radical Islamist groups organised counter-demonstrations to co-incide with those run by the BNP and there were inevitable flash-points. From his privileged position close to the First Minister, Donnie was able to learn just how widespread the racial tension was becoming. Most of it was confined to large English cities – particularly in the midlands and north, but Scotland was by no means excluded and there were an increasing number of incidents in and around Glasgow. "The important thing is not to have a knee-jerk reaction to all this," Alex Salmond argued. "The Conservatives are rushing legislation through Westminster to make it easier for the security forces to arrest and hold suspects, but measures like that are just as likely to raise tensions amongst the Asian communities." "But something needs to be done to get at the root cause of the tensions," Donnie responded. "I agree that heavy-handed tactics will just give the radicals more ammunition to claim that the Muslims are getting a raw deal, but what do we do to lance this boil? "When intelligent, well-educated British nationals decide it's time to wear a vest stuffed with explosives so they can blow themselves up inside a nuclear power plant, then surely it's time for some fundamental changes in policy? "Why don't we do more to integrate these communities? Why do we let them ignore our culture and customs? Why do we pander to those elements that try and import someone else's culture and establish it here – Sharia law for example? Is the UK maybe too tolerant?" Donnie asked. "It's a very complicated one, Donnie. Look at the Netherlands, they've done more than most to try and integrate the various communities, but even there the government is finding it increasingly difficult," the FM responded. Tensions remained high through the end of September/into October. The situation threatened to boil over altogether two weeks later when something that Donnie had been waiting for was at last reported on the news. On the run up to the date of the plane crash, Donnie sold off all of the stocks, shares and commodities that he had purchased. He also bought the lottery tickets with the numbers he knew were going to win and placed a range of bets using his knowledge of the outcomes of all the sporting events. He worried somewhat that questions would be asked about one man winning four lotteries in one weekend not to mention the bets he stood to win. The lotteries all had guaranteed anonymity, however, and he was counting on that and the fact that his bets were all being placed on-line. With everything in place, Donnie just had to sit back and let the money roll in. He found himself constantly grinning at the prospect, but he had forgotten something. He had forgotten how devastating the crash had been. Donnie couldn't have predicted the cause of the crash either, and the effect that would have across the country. On the day he knew the crash was to happen, Katie remained close by his side as much as possible. By lunchtime the first reports of a tragic event at Camp Bastion were beginning to emerge. Donnie and Katie eventually caught up with events when they tuned-in to the evening news. ... more detail now on the breaking story we reported earlier today from Helmand Province in Afghanistan. We brought you news that a C-17 troop transporter had reportedly crashed not long after take-off and that the Ministry of Defence had stated that the aircraft had not been hit by enemy fire. The latest now from Roger Bolton. Roger? Thanks Ursula. Yes, the MoD have now confirmed that there are four survivors from the C-17. Ursula, incredibly, the suggestion here now is that one of the survivors is indicating that the crash was caused by a British soldier of Asian origin who deliberately exploded a grenade after the plane took off! The MoD is refusing to confirm or deny that, but they have confirmed that 23 members of 45 Commando are missing, presumed dead in the crash... Donnie couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. A comrade? Someone who would have stood shoulder to shoulder with the same men he blew up? "Just what is going on in the world? What is this going to do in terms of the tension around the country? It's bad enough hearing about a casualty in the field, but twenty-three blown up by someone they trusted? That won't go down well with the public, it's like the ultimate betrayal," Donnie thought. The millions suddenly paled into insignificance for Donnie, as the images of the flames, wreckage and human carnage came flooding back. Katie sensed his mood and was glad she was there to comfort her man. She hugged his head to her chest and stroked his hair soothingly. Rory took to lying with his head on Donnie's foot, almost as if he needed to know where his master was at all times. ------- Donnie remained quite despondent over the next few days and Katie tried everything she could to snap him out of it. "Donnie, you really need to start doing some work," she told him. "Your class schedule is much worse than mine, but you're doing less study than I am. Carol is also champing at the bit for you to release more funds for the work at Ardbrecknish. You can't afford to mope around like this, people are relying on you!" It wasn't Katie that changed the tide though, it wasn't even the goddess. The change came on the back of two phone calls. The first call came during lunch-break. Donnie and Katie were eating sandwiches with Heather, sitting in one of the soft-seating areas in the student centre. The girls were chatting, but both of them continued to cast worried glances at Donnie. Their chat stopped when Donnie's phone rang. "Hello?" Donnie answered. "Hi, is that Gregorach Enterprises?" a cultured male voice asked. "In a way it is, how can I help you?" Donnie asked. "I'd rather like to speak to someone about your advert in today's Scotsman newspaper." Donnie immediately reached over for the rather bedraggled copy of the Scotsman lying on one of the low tables in front of him. While he was quickly flicking through the paper, Donnie tried to buy some time. "Yes, of course. Can I ask who I'm speaking to?" he asked. "Oh, sorry. This is Professor Bill White. I'm currently carrying out research at Edinburgh University." "And was there anything in particular that you wanted to ask in relation to the advert?" Donnie continued to flannel. Just before the Professor answered, Donnie found the advert. His frantic search through the paper had attracted the girls' attention too, and they peered over his shoulder to see what was grabbing Donnie's interest. Gregorach Enterprises – Research Opportunity An opportunity has arisen for a suitably qualified research fellow interested in making ground-breaking discoveries in the area of elemental recycling. This is pure research, well funded and with initial breakthroughs already documented. For further information contact... Donnie heard the Professor talking again and he tried to follow what he had been saying, without success. "I'm sorry, Professor. I'm on a mobile and you broke up a little," Donnie lied. "Could you just repeat that please?" "I said that I was hooked at the part that says initial breakthroughs are already documented!" Donnie glanced at the advert again and concluded that the goddess was the most likely culprit for it appearing in the paper. "You didn't move quickly enough, Dòmhnall. There is no time to lose; this project needs to start as soon as possible. This man is the one to make the breakthroughs required. He also brings a bonus that you will be thankful for." "Perhaps we should arrange to meet up so that we can discuss the project?" Donnie suggested to Professor White. "That certainly sounds like a good idea. Where and when would suit you?" Donnie thought it would be a good idea to let the Professor see the Ardbrecknish site, especially now that the first silo was complete and already in production. He agreed a time and ended the call. "What is this all about?" Heather asked, pointing to the advert. Donnie explained about his conversation with the goddess about the recycling project and watched as Heather became more and more animated. "Do you mean you were just talking to THE Professor Bill White?" she demanded. "The same Bill White who is a leading expert on thermal depolymerisation?" Donnie looked at Katie to see if she was any wiser about what thermal depolymerisation could be, but she rolled her eyes at him. Heather realised that her friends didn't know what she was talking about and rushed to explain. "Depolymerisation is breaking long chain hydrocarbons down into smaller chain molecules," said Heather. She saw that Donnie and Katie were still giving her blank looks. "Do you remember doing hydrolysis at school?" she asked. Both Donnie and Katie nodded. "Think about taking a long chain hydrocarbon such as plastic. Can you remember those condensation reactions in chemistry?" she asked. Again Donnie and Katie nodded. "That's when you managed to remove a Hydrogen atom and an OH molecule so that a long chain hydrocarbon was formed the H and the OH combined to produce H2O – the condensation. Now think of somehow breaking the double bond and giving back the H and the OH to reverse the process." "Okay," said Donnie. "I think I follow you, but why are you so excited about it?" "Doh!," Heather cried. "Don't you see? If you can reverse the process, you can recycle things like plastics into smaller chain hydrocarbons which include..." "Fuel!" Donnie exclaimed. "Hurrah!" agreed Heather, pleased that her friend had managed to get there eventually. "Okay, okay, but what has this got to do with the guy on the phone?" Donnie asked. "Professor White is only the leading expert on the development of thermal depolymerisation in the UK!" Heather exclaimed. "We were looking at some of his work just last week! He's a real foot!" "He's a foot?" Katie asked, confused. Heather giggled. "He's an absolute leg-end!" All three of them laughed at Heather's weak joke, but were interrupted by Donnie's phone ringing again. Thinking that it was the leg-end himself calling back for something, Donnie tried to control his giggles. "Hello?" he answered. "Um, hi. Is this Donnie?" The voice sounded female, young and worried to Donnie and his giggles disappeared quickly. "Yeh, this is Donnie. Who am I speaking to?" The girls also stopped giggling, inquisitive now as to who the new caller was. "You don't remember me? Oh, I'm sorry for calling, but you genuinely sounded like you wanted to help me the other night." Donnie made the connection to the plane crash and an image of a young girl appeared in his head. "Vivien? Is that you Vivien?" he asked, his voice betraying his delight. The girl's voice seemed to brighten a little now that Donnie had recognised her and was responding positively. "Yes, it's me, you told me to call if I needed to talk. I'm afraid I may have caused you some problems." "What do you mean, don't be silly?" Donnie encouraged. "No, I mucked up. After you left, I let one of the pilots see your business card. They asked me how it was possible that they were still alive and I pointed to the card and told them you had saved them all singlehandedly." Donnie winced; Vivien's actions could be a problem. "Did you stress that they couldn't mention the fact that you and I were there?" he asked. "Of course, Sironaidh told me to make sure of that." "This will not cause any difficulties, Dòmhnall. In fact, I think it will prove to be positive." Donnie's pulse calmed a little at that. "Where exactly are you?" Donnie asked. Vivien remained silent, refusing to answer his question. "Vivien, if you want me to help you, I need to know where you are," Donnie persisted. Another few moments of silence on the line followed. "I'm scared. I don't want to tell you where I am because I'll be taken into care." Vivien's voice conveyed a deep, deep, sense of pain and suffering. "Goddess, can you help me?" Donnie asked. "For this one, yes. She is special, Dòmhnall. She has cared for her father who died of cancer and her mother who has Altzheimers. The father is now dead and the mother hasn't long to go. The girl's devotion is what attracted Sironaidh. She is a natural born carer. She is fifteen. She's worried that if the authorities find out how bad her mother is, then she will go into care." "Can't I simply heal her mother?" "Sickness of the mind is difficult, Dòmhnall. I'm afraid there is nothing that you can do. She lives here." Beira sent a picture of Vivien sitting with the phone at her ear. The picture pulled back and Donnie recognised a famous Scottish landmark – St Andrew's golf course. Donnie thought quickly. He didn't want to frighten the girl any further, but he was determined to ensure she was safe, inside the fold so to speak. "Vivien, you don't need to tell me anymore," he said. "The goddess has told me how you have cared for your father and mother. Do you trust the goddess to lead me to you? Would that convince you that you are safe with me?" Again there was a moment of hesitation. "The goddess can do that?" she asked. Beira let Donnie feel the final breath of Vivien's mother. "Her mother has gone. You need to go and get her now, Dòmhnall. She needs her Clan Chief to help her deal with this." Donnie linked to his gifts to help him remain in control over the welter of emotions that were suddenly bombarding him. "Vivien, listen to me," he said, his voice carrying incredible gravitas. "Your mother has joined the goddess and is in a better place, you should feel good about that. As for you, do not worry my little nightingale, I will be there for you before you know it. Your place is here with Katie and me!" The girls were on the edge of their seat when Donnie ended the call. Both knew the name Vivien Dunn and where it came from due to Donnie having told the story of the plane crash. They had only heard one side of the conversation although Katie had heard the contributions from Beira. "Come on, we need to go and get her!" Katie urged. Heather let herself be carried along by the other two. "You heard?" Donnie asked Katie. She nodded to tell him that she had heard the goddess' words, "Let's bring her home," she said. ------- Chapter 20 Arriving in St Andrews, it was a case of trial and error before Donnie eventually recognised the street and the house that Beira had shown him. Parking the car, all three of them made their way up the path and Donnie rang the doorbell. When there was no response, he tried the handle and found the door unlocked, so they entered the house. Making their way down a hallway, they turned at the first doorway on their right and found themselves in a sitting room. Donnie saw Vivien curled up on a sofa, with an unlikely companion cuddled up beside her. "How did you get here?" Donnie asked Rory. The Collie raised his head and looked for all the world as if he was smiling. "He's been making me feel better," said Vivien, as if that explained how Rory had managed to transport himself all the way from Stirling. "I'll put the kettle on," Heather announced, and went in search of the kitchen. "Have you phoned anyone?" Donnie asked Vivien. Her red eyes made it clear that she had been crying heavily and wasn't functioning properly, which showed, as there was no response to Donnie's question. He tried again. "Do we need to call a doctor or something? Someone will need to verify your mother has passed away," he said. "Were you serious when you said that I was to come and live with you?" Vivien asked. "Of course," Donnie replied. "We need to get things sorted here first though." "Won't social services want to put me into care?" she asked. "They might, but we'll have to figure out a way to keep you out of their evil clutches," Donnie tried to joke. "There's no need to worry about that, Dòmhnall. I've already altered things to put your parents down as Vivien's next of kin. No one will ask any questions about this." Donnie was grateful that Beira was taking such an interest and that he wouldn't need to work out a way of keeping Vivien with them. Now all he had to do was ensure the arrangements were made for Mrs Dunn's funeral and then focus on helping Vivien grieve over her loss. Donnie eventually managed to get the number for the family doctor out of Vivien and he phoned the man to explain what had happened. After that, he tried to keep Vivien occupied and unaware of what they were doing to make the final arrangements for her mother. Heather found a drawer full of what seemed like important papers and documents. She found Mrs Dunn's will and some other key papers such as insurance policies and the title deeds to the house. The will was helpful in identifying the family solicitor and Heather gathered up everything she thought they would need. "Why don't you take Vivien upstairs and help her pack her things?" Donnie suggested to Katie, as he noticed a car draw up outside. He presumed that this would be the doctor and he wanted to be able to speak to him before Vivien realised he was there. Katie took the strong hint and led a still numb Vivien upstairs. Rory followed, seemingly determined to stick as close to the grieving girl as possible. Donnie met the doctor at the door and explained that he was Vivien's cousin and that she had phoned him when her mother had finally passed away. "Oh, that's good," the doctor said. "I didn't think that she had any other relatives. She seems to have been on her own for so long looking after first her father and then her mother." The look he gave Donnie was one of disapproval, almost as if he was making a point about the fact that no one had been there to help Vivien when she had needed it most. "We didn't know how bad things were," Donnie contrived. "Obviously we would have been here for her much sooner if we had known. At least we're here now and hopefully we can make this a little easier for Vivien." It proved surprisingly easy to get the doctor to verify Mrs Dunn's death and he advised them of what they would need to do to get a death certificate. In the meantime, Donnie found a yellow pages directory and found a number for the local undertaker. He contacted the undertaker and arranged for him to come and collect Mrs Dunn's body. Katie arrived back downstairs with Vivien and a bag. She confirmed that the bag held everything that Vivien would need for a few days. "Okay, could you and Heather finish up here?" Donnie asked. "I'll take Vivien to the farm for a few days while we handle all of the arrangements for the funeral and such like. I'll be back in about three hours." Donnie helped Vivien out to the car and let her sit in the back seat with Rory sticking by her side. He stopped off at a service station so they could grab a bite to eat and he could phone his parents to warn them that they were about to have a visitor. He explained about the death of Vivien's parents and the need to make sure the girl was surrounded by people who would care for her while her affairs were put in order. When they arrived at the farm, Mairi McGregor took over and led Vivien upstairs to Donnie's old room. It was perhaps only half an hour before she returned downstairs alone. "She's sleeping the poor wee thing. She must be exhausted," Mairi suggested. Donnie explained Vivien's immediate past, how she had been virtually a full time carer for her parents and how he was now going to try and ensure she wasn't swallowed up by the faceless, bureaucratic, social services machine. "Don't ask me how I've managed it, mom, but you and dad are listed as Vivien's remaining next of kin," Donnie told his mother. Mairi wasn't sure how Donnie knew Vivien, but she knew how difficult things could be for those who became lost in the care system and she agreed to do everything she could to help. "I didn't expect to have another child so late in life," Mairi laughed. "What about school? She certainly doesn't seem old enough to have finished school?" "I'll have to speak to her and see about getting her transferred to somewhere closer to my apartment," Donnie agreed. "Do you think having her with you and Katie is such a good idea?" his mother asked. "Trust me, mom. That's exactly where she needs to be as she deals with this. It's going to be quite an adjustment for her. She's immersed herself in caring for her parents; it's taken up all of her time until now. With them both gone, she has nothing to focus on and will probably feel that she has no purpose." Satisfied that Vivien would be fine with his parents and Rory for now, Donnie returned to St Andrews to pick up Katie and Heather. With all of the documentation they would need – including details of Vivien's schooling now – they locked up and headed back to Bridge-of-Allan. Later, the three friends sat down to discuss what remained to be done to draw a line under Vivien's old life and get her started on a new chapter. Donnie found it strange to read his mother and father's names in Olivia Dunn's will. The goddess had clearly doctored things as she had told him, but to see it in black and white was still freaky. Nonetheless, that and some other documents were what was required to ensure that Vivien wouldn't fall foul of social services. "Here's her last report from school," said Heather, poring over a document. "She doesn't seem to be doing very well." "The poor thing probably had other priorities to be honest," Donnie suggested. "We'll just have to help her get things back on track. Each of us can tutor her and hopefully help to get her grades up." ------- The next day, Donnie took Heather with him for the meeting that had been arranged with Professor White at the Ardbrecknish site. The petite blonde did nothing but rave about the ground-breaking work the Professor was already taking forward and gave her view that he would be perfect for what Donnie was looking for. Katie had already pointed out that White was another of the names associated with the McGregor clan and she knew of course that Beira had already told Donnie that White was the man for the job. As they drove onto the site, Heather squealed when she saw the first dome in position, marking the completed silo. Further excavation indicated where further silos were already in progress. "It looks like a huge, see-through, golf ball," said an excited Heather. "Really? I think it looks more like a high-tech greenhouse!" Donnie laughed. Carol saw them pull up and strode across to meet them. "Hi, to what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked. "I've arranged to meet someone here that might be working for us soon," Donnie told her. "Oh? Doing what?" Carol asked. "I'll let Heather explain that, she's the expert. Be warned though that she is a bit of an anorak once she gets started on this particular subject!" he warned. Heather proceeded to wax lyrical about Professor White once more and Donnie tried to tune her out. By the time Heather had finished, another car had pulled into the site. Donnie saw that it was an old Volvo and as he watched, a white-haired man climbed out from behind the wheel and crossed to meet them. "Hello there," Professor White greeted them. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone here – a Mr Donald McGregor?" "That's me. You must be Professor White. Pleased to meet you," Donnie extended his hand. The Professor shook hands as he looked Donnie up and down, surprised by how young he was. "Don't let his age fool you," Heather laughed. "He's already worth several hundred million quid and he's the brain-child behind this entire facility!" White looked round at the dome and other construction work. "And what exactly would this facility be?" he asked, clearly intrigued. "Perhaps it would be easier to show you," Carol suggested. She led them into the dome and over to a glass fronted elevator. Once they were all in the elevator, Carol pressed to take them to level 12 – thinking that would be low enough for the Professor to get a feel for what they were trying to do. The first sight of the vast expanse of pods and levels left White speechless for several moments, but he picked up on the heating and lighting equipment and what they signified. Eventually he found his voice. "But this is incredible! Howe many levels are there?" he asked. "We stopped at a hundred," Donnie admitted. "I think I've worked out what you're planning – you're going to grow under lights and by stacking them like this, you'll increase production hugely. How can you afford the power something like this will need?" Bill White asked. Heather giggled. "Professor White, meet the inventor of tree energy!" she said, pointing at Donnie. "That was you?" Bill asked, an incredulous look on his face. "I've had it installed at home to provide the power for my house. A brilliantly simple concept." Carol pushed the button to take the elevator back to the surface. "What do you plan to use this space for?" Bill asked Donnie. "Well, we're going to have plenty of heat coming up from below, so I thought we'd try and grow some other things that need a bit more room – bananas for example and fruit trees," Donnie answered. "We'll also run some livestock." It was clear that Professor White was now considering Donnie with much more respect than when they had first shaken hands on arrival. Donnie had gone from young man to proven innovator and businessman all in the space of fifteen minutes. That had been the main reason for Donnie suggesting the meeting take place at Ardbrecknish and it had certainly paid off. "We'll leave you two to talk business now," said Heather. "Carol wants to show me how the accommodation is coming on, but Donnie, remember, I want to work on this project if Professor White will have me." Left alone, Bill White wasted no time in getting to the part of the newspaper advert that had grabbed his attention. "Donnie, I'm sure you won't be aware what I'm working on currently, but..." Donnie interrupted. "Professor, Heather has been at pains to bring me up to date with your work on depolymerisation! If you haven't already guessed, she's a fan of yours by the way," said Donnie. "Oh, I see. Well, you can probably see that there are potential synergies in what I'm already doing and what you are looking to bankroll. Can you tell me what the breakthroughs are that have been made?" Donnie turned to look at the older man. "Normally I wouldn't even consider telling you that until we had contracts in place and confidentiality agreements signed, but somehow I don't think our relationship is going to be like that," said Donnie. Bill nodded to show that he understood that such commercially valuable information wouldn't normally be shared so readily. The gleam in his eye showed how keen he was to know what the breakthrough was, but the look of resignation on his face made it clear he understood that safeguards had to be in place. Donnie saw the look and laughed. "No, no, I said normally I wouldn't consider it, but I think you and I are going to be important to each other. Let's go to my car and I'll show you what I've done so far," Donnie offered. Once they were seated in the Polo, Donnie produced a folder containing several sheets of paper. He extracted the first sheet and passed it over to the Professor. "This is a scaled drawing of what I think the final 'product' will look like," he started. "You can see that there are inlet valves to accommodate a range of inputs into the main body of the design. These outlet valves recognise that there will be a variety of final components to handle separately." The Professor was already studying the drawing, weighing up each minute detail. "You've got the key for the scale wrong," he said absently. "No, I haven't," Donnie responded. "It has to be that big to deal with the volumes I'm hoping to recycle." Bill looked up in surprise and then returned to studying the drawing. "In my current work we introduce steam and then also increase the pressure to speed up the reactions I'm looking for. Is this something similar?" he asked. Donnie thought about how he should answer that question. "To be honest, I'm a little stuck as to what's inside the guts of this thing," he tried to explain. "I keep having a vision of something like a mass spectrometer only scaled up somehow." "A mass spectrometer ... oh my! Oh my indeed!" Bill exclaimed as something seemed to click inside his head. "Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Why do you need me?" It took Donnie a few moments to realise that the Professor had made an intellectual leap to the solution to the scaling up issues and had assumed that Donnie had already done the same. "You mean you can already see what's inside this 'thing'?" Donnie tested. "Now that you've explained it to me, of course I can," Bill answered, a little confused by what he thought was a redundant question. "So if I gave you a budget, of say this amount, you would be able to build this?" Donnie asked, handing over the second sheet of paper from the folder. The Professor's eyes bulged when he saw the figures Donnie was willing to spend. "You'd let me build it?" Bill asked, his excitement growing. "Professor, I wouldn't know where to start. Either you build it or it's never going to see the light of day," Donnie confirmed. "Here? I take it you want it here?" the Professor asked. "That's right, how did you guess?" Donnie asked. "Well it's going to be a key part of your compound of course. It will be vital to the success of the community here," Bill responded. Donnie shook his head. "Am I the only one who couldn't see this site for what it was from the outset?" he asked. ------- When Donnie returned to the farm to pick up Vivien, he took the opportunity of sitting with his father to watch the news, something they both missed doing together. Most of the items reported doom and gloom – with oil hitting $200 per barrel and continuing trouble across the Middle East. As Donnie had feared, the response to the Camp Bastion plane crash was an upsurge in violence between groups of Asian and white teenagers. The news team also reported a spate of attacks on mosques across England. "How is that all going to end," Douglas McGregor asked. "Normally we expect the schools to sort this kind of thing out by educating people to behave differently, but I saw last week that there has been a huge upsurge in Muslim faith schools. The undercover reporter found evidence that the kids going to these schools are being indoctrinated and taught things which are against the culture in this country." "What kinds of things?" Donnie asked, his interest piqued. "Well, the value of an education for women for one," Douglas responded. "In fact, the value of women's contributions in society full stop to be honest. You wouldn't believe just how sexist some of the stuff in this Arabic curriculum is! Women are treated abominably." "I talked to Alex Salmond about this," Donnie told his father. "Even he couldn't identify an easy way forward or even give much hope to be honest." "So we are just going to admit defeat then?" Douglas asked. "It needs willingness on all sides, dad," Donnie argued. "If one party isn't interested in finding a solution, it makes it nigh on impossible to fix." "It seems to me that these Jihadists won't be satisfied until everyone converts to Islam and the west is wiped off of the face of the Earth!" Douglas complained. "There is so much hate," said Vivien, deep sadness in her tone. "Speaking of Alex Salmond, how are things going at the heart of the Scottish Government?" Douglas asked his son. "Not too good at present," Donnie answered. "The SNP feel that the Westminster Government is playing fast and loose with the funding formula and that Scotland's share of the public purse is going to be reduced yet again." "But the formula was always designed to reduce the amount of money Scotland gets," Douglas argued. "Agreed, but the Conservatives are looking to reduce it further and quicker than was ever envisaged. There are other little things too that seem almost spiteful," said Donnie. "Like what?" his father asked. "Oh I don't know ... things like the shipment of salt last week. The First Minister is trying to build up stocks of salt and grit for the coming winter, but Westminster diverted a ship full of salt so that the Highways Agency in England wouldn't run short. Or that thing with the utilities levy – there's a fund of £300million sitting in the treasury that has been levied on Scottish consumers, but Westminster won't release it." "That sounds like small beer if you ask me," said Douglas. "I know – it is small beer – but when you add together ten or twenty small things like that, it adds up to a feeling that Westminster doesn't have the proper respect for the Scottish Parliament," Donnie argued. "I'd be much more upset over what's happening with livestock if I was you," his father responded. "Why?" Donnie asked. "The big retailers are buying up Scottish lamb and beef by forcing farmers to accept rock-bottom prices, shipping it south to be slaughtered and then distributing the meat back into Scotland at inflated prices," Douglas explained. "Surely that can't be true?" Donnie asked, shocked at the suggestion. "It's true I'm telling you," Douglas argued. "That's shocking! How can they get away with that?" Donnie asked. "Aye and no doubt we'll be subjected to another suspension in parcel deliveries this Christmas if we get snow again this year," Douglas continued his rant. "They bleed us dry at every opportunity. Take holidays for example." Donnie wasn't sure where his father was going with this one, so he remained silent. Vivien was mostly listening to the discussion, fascinated by the exchange of views. She had been starved of this kind of conversation for a long time given what her home life had consisted of for the past few years. "How can they justify the difference in the cost of a flight from a Scottish airport over an English one?" Douglas asked. "Doesn't it have something to do with Scotland being further away from the final destination and therefore a flight uses more fuel?" Donnie asked, innocently. "For some flights the distance is further – mainland Europe for example, places like Spain. But what about America and Canada? Scotland is closer to them yet the flights are still significantly more expensive from Scottish airports!" Another item on the news grabbed their attention and father and son fell quiet. ... latest crime statistics published today. The figures show a dramatic increase in both violent and non-violent crime with racially aggravated assaults at an all-time high. Crimes such as burglary and theft from retailers also show a significant climb. A spokesperson for the Police Federation said that they had warned the government about the consequences of the severe cuts to police budgets... "It's getting so that you aren't safe to go out at nights!" Douglas complained. Donnie had heard enough depressing news for one night and he tried to change the subject onto something more pleasant. "So how did the farm do this year?" he asked. "Is Kieran pulling his weight?" He saw immediately that he had opted for the wrong subject. "Don't get me started!" Douglas snapped. "I've already told you about the big supermarkets trying to depress the price they're willing to pay for livestock. The wet summer didn't do much for our grain crops either and by my reckoning we had a full two weeks less of growing time this year. It was almost as if spring arrived late and autumn came early. I ran at a loss, a big loss." Donnie was worried by what his father was implying. "Do you mean the daylight was shorter than it should have been?" he asked. Douglas shook his head. "No, the amount of daylight was the same as usual, but the average temperatures were about a week out in March and in September," he explained. Donnie's mobile phone rang at that point and he answered it. ------- Katie checked through the peep-hole before deciding whether to open the door. She saw two men wearing suits and overcoats, neither of whom she recognised. "Who is it?" she called through the door. "Police ma'am. We're looking for a Donald McGregor." "Have you got some ID I could see?" Katie called out. Both men reached into their pockets and held up photo-IDs. Katie found it difficult to see the detail through the spy-hole, but she reasoned that the fact the men held something up at all suggested they were bona fide officers. She opened the door. "I'm Detective Inspector Reynolds and this is my partner DI Coombs. We have a warrant here for the arrest of Donald McGregor." "What has he done? Why would you want to arrest Donnie," asked a stunned Katie. "Perhaps we could come in ma'am?" Coombs suggested. Before Katie could answer, another figure appeared. She smiled when she recognised her personal security, Davie Lawrence. "Everything okay, Katie?" he asked. Katie took confidence from Davie's calm air of assurance. "These two officers were just asking if they could come into the apartment," Katie explained. "Only if they have a warrant to do that," Davie stated emphatically. Reynolds appeared to lose patience at that point. "Right, I need both of you to identify yourselves or we'll arrest you for hampering an investigation," he growled. Katie could see he was serious. Davie's presence and his military bearing seemed to have rattled the two officers a little. "I'm Katie McGregor. I'm Donnie's fiancé and I live here. This is Mr Lawrence, a security operative for Donnie's company, Gregorach Enterprises," she told Reynolds. "Now, like Davie says, you don't get in without a warrant to enter the apartment." Both officers frowned at her refusal, but Reynolds did produce a warrant which he flashed under Katie's nose. "Now, perhaps you'll step aside and let us in?" asked Reynolds, all pretence at being polite suddenly dropped. "Perhaps I could see that?" Davie suggested. "Don't push your luck, sonny!" Reynolds barked and pushed forward into the apartment. Katie held the door open further as both officers passed her. "Perhaps I should hang around and 'observe'?" Davie suggested quietly. Katie smiled her thanks and felt better immediately for the support. Both of them followed DI Reynolds into the sitting room, but Coombs headed for the first bedroom. "What does he think he's doing?" demanded Katie. "He's conducting a search as authorised by the warrant we have just shown you," DI Reynolds replied. "Have you got something to hide?" "No, and neither does Donnie!" said Katie adamantly. "Where is Mr McGregor?" Reynolds asked. "I've no idea where he is," Katie lied. "Charlie! Comer and see this!" shouted Coombs. Katie and Lawrence followed DI Reynolds as he strode through the apartment to join his partner. Coombs held up an A4 sized wallet triumphantly. "Bingo!" he said, pulling on a pair of surgical gloves before quickly flicking through the contents of the wallet. "Details of all of the stock transactions and a summary of winning bets and winning lottery tickets. The tip-off was bang on the money." Coombs began to pull documents from the wallet, handing each one to Reynolds. Reynolds ignored the offering until he too had pulled on gloves. "This adds up to a fortune and look at the dates," said Coombs. "Four lotteries in one weekend? No one is that lucky!" sneered Reynolds. "Jesus, the bookies must love this guy. Look at how much money he's taken them for," said Coombs, handing over a sheet that showed Donnie's summary of winning bets. "All of them in the same week in October, Mr McGregor has been a busy boy, hasn't he?" Reynolds observed. "What are you two on about?" Katie blustered. "Donnie hasn't done anything illegal. This is all a set-up and before you remove anything from this apartment I want a fully itemised receipt. In fact, I think I want a solicitor present." The two detective inspectors continued to scrutinise the contents of the wallet and Katie stepped out of the bedroom to use her mobile while Davie kept an eye on the officers. She speed-dialled Donnie's phone and spoke quickly when he answered. "Hi, I'm in a bit of a rush. Do you have the number for that solicitor I used during the rape thing?" "Katie? Is that you? What's going on?" Donnie asked. "I'll explain it all later. The police have just turned up with an arrest warrant for you and they're searching the apartment. Something to do with financial transactions and bets I think. I need to get a solicitor here before they try and take anything away from the apartment." "Hang on, I'll have to look at the memory on this phone to find the number," said a worried Donnie. "Okay, can you write this down? The number is..." "Thanks," said Katie. "I'll call later and let you know what's going on." Belatedly, the two DIs grew interested in who Katie was calling. "Who was that?" Coombs asked. "My girlfriend, I needed a number to call a solicitor," Katie lied. She rang the number Donnie had given her and explained her situation to the solicitor. He agreed that he would drive round to the apartment immediately. ------- What was that about?" Douglas asked his son. He could see that the colour had drained from Donnie's face and guessed that something had upset him. "It was Katie," Donnie said. "Apparently the police have turned up at the apartment and they told her they have a warrant for my arrest. They're searching the place now and Katie wanted the number for a solicitor." "A warrant for your arrest? What have you done, son?" Douglas asked. "Nothing illegal, dad," Donnie answered. "There's just been a misunderstanding, but I'm sure I can get it all cleared up." Donnie wondered how the police had found out about his financial dealings. How could the details have been reported to them? ------- Chapter 21 Donnie convinced Vivien to stay at the farm with his parents for another few days while he tried to sort out the situation with the police. Katie had phoned him back after the police had left the apartment and made a suggestion. "Why don't you meet the solicitor now and discuss the best way of getting out of this?" "That's a good idea. Is Davie staying with you?" Donnie asked. Katie confirmed that her 'minder' would be continuing to watch over her. "Let me speak to the solicitor then and I'll try and fix up a meeting," said Donnie. It was already getting late, but the solicitor agreed to meet Donnie at a popular bar in Stirling. Donnie drove to the pub and recognised the solicitor when he walked in. "I'd offer to buy you a drink," he said, "but I've left my wallet at home." The solicitor bought himself a pint and got a coke for Donnie. They found a table in a relatively quiet spot and the solicitor began asking questions. "The information that the police took from the apartment, what will it show?" Donnie tried to recollect everything that he had kept in the wallet. "There's the paperwork for the sale of a large quantity of stocks, shares and commodities. I bought them less than a year ago and sold them in October. I made quite a bit of money on those." "Were there any that you lost money on?" the solicitor asked. "None," Donnie admitted. "Does this involve insider dealing?" "There was no illegal activity involved in those transactions and the police cannot have any information that proves otherwise," said Donnie firmly. "What else?" asked the solicitor. "The winning numbers for the UK, Irish, Spanish and Euromillions lotteries. I won all four over the one weekend," said Donnie. "Four?! You won four lotteries? That's impossible!" the solicitor exclaimed. "I'll accept that the odds are astronomical," Donnie smiled, "but not impossible as I've shown. There was nothing illegal in my lottery wins and the police will not be able to show anything to the contrary." The solicitor shook his head in wonder. "Is that it?" he asked. "No, there's a summary of a number of accumulator bets. Horses, football and other sporting events. All of them in October. I think the winnings totalled somewhere in the region of £35million," Donnie told him. "Bloody hell!" the solicitor cursed. "Nothing illegal in any of it," Donnie stated simply. "No one man could be that lucky," the solicitor disagreed. "I'm here to prove that's not true," said Donnie. His rebuttal, the confidence with which he declared there could be no evidence of wrong-doing and the utter certainty that nothing illegal had taken place, all convinced the solicitor that Donnie was genuine. He started to laugh. "What?" Donnie asked. "You're telling me that the police have got nothing? All of it is above board? All taxes paid?" Donnie nodded. "Priceless, absolutely priceless. You should just hand yourself in at the nearest station. I'll have you out within the hour, as they've got nothing to hold you on," the solicitor said. "They're just like me; they can't believe this can all be legal. That's why they're after you, but eventually they're going to realise that they have nothing." "Yes," Donnie agreed. "Who tipped them off?" the solicitor. "Sorry?" Donnie asked. "The DI – Katie said he mentioned a tip-off being bang on." ------- Vivien was coming out of her shell more and more as she adjusted to Mairi, Douglas and Kieran on the farm. It helped that Douglas found meaningful tasks for her to do that both kept her occupied and promoted her sense of worth. Donnie had been right about that, her whole reason for being over the past two and a half years had been nursing her parents. Rory was her constant companion as she took on the job of hosing down the heavy farm machinery so that Douglas could then carry out routine maintenance. She had just finished using the heavy hose on one of the tractors, and Douglas was already crawling over the engine, when Sironaidh's voice spoke to her inside her head. "You know that it is time for a change in your life, Vivien. The gift that I have given you will blossom as you grow closer to Dòmhnall and Katherine. When the time is right, you will become their wife – the first addition, but there will be two others to come. You also need to work hard at your studies and have a goal in mind. Healing will come naturally to you as your gift grows, but I want you to heal more than just flesh and blood. I want you to learn how to make other things whole again too. Push yourself, Vivien. Time is short." As quickly as it had come, the voice was gone and Vivien wondered about what her goddess had told her. "I'm to marry Donnie and Katie! Wow, that's neat! I wonder what the goddess means about making other things whole again?" As Vivien puzzled over the goddess' words, she was absently watching Douglas changing a filter. "What could she have been getting at?" Douglas was now removing spark plugs and carefully checking that they were undamaged and fit to last for another year. He took a small emery board and delicately buffed one plug before replacing it. Perhaps it was the goddess' timing or maybe it was a metaphoric spark from the plug, but realisation dawned on Vivien that she was watching Douglas doing something that made things whole again. "Could that be it? Could I learn to fix engines and machinery?" The thought made her excited. Vivien realised that some would consider mechanics just plain wrong for a scrawny girl like herself, but the sound of it seemed to fit somehow. Already she liked the idea of being able to heal people and animals, but also to have the skill to bring broken engineering back to life in a much different way. Crossing to stand beside Douglas, she made a request that really would mean another big change in her life. "Tell me how it works?" she asked. ------- The special adviser glanced at his slide again before resuming his briefing. "To understand some of what's going on in Bahrain, you need to understand a little more about the culture there. "Many people in the west don't realise that there are deep divisions within the Islamic faith. The main division runs between Shi'ite Muslims and Sunni Muslims. "In very simple terms, Shias believe the prophet Muhammad foretold that, after his death, his cousin, Ali, would lead the Muslims. This tradition has led the Shias to believe that there were certain members of Muhhamad's family and descendents – Imams they became known as – that hold special spiritual and political authority over the community. "The more orthodox Muslims are Sunni; they're the more moderate group and hugely outnumber the Shias – probably by as much as four to one. The Sunni do not accept that Imams have any authority and this fundamental difference in belief can manifest itself in deep divisions between the 'sects'. "Now, there are a number of countries where Shias are actually in the majority – Iran and Iraq are examples. Bahrain is another. Perhaps 75 percent of the population of Bahrain is Shi'ite, but ... and it's a big but ... the Royal family that rules in Bahrain is Sunni. "So what appears on the face of things as a popular uprising to gain more democracy, could also be viewed as a sectarian act against a minority Sunni population. That's why troops have been deployed from Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates – both of those countries have large Sunni majorities." Donnie sat behind the First Minister, soaking up the detail of the briefing. He understood that he was getting a fascinating insight into current events in the Middle East. The latest flash point was once again Bahrain, with its oil exporting facilities now being threatened by mounting unrest. This sectarian undercurrent wasn't something that Donnie had been aware of before. "What about the Muslims in this country, what are they?" Donnie asked the advisor. "The vast majority of the UK's Muslim population are actually of Pakistani origin and it is particularly the Shi'ite population that has settled here," the advisor answered. "Is it being too simplistic to suggest that the more radical Muslims tend to be Shi'ite?" Donnie asked. "Is the influence of the Imams somehow linked to radicalism?" "Yes, I'm afraid it is too simplistic. It's undoubtedly the case that more of the radical elements do come from the Shi'ite communities and there are some Imams who are known for fomenting radicalism, but the vast majority of Imams can't be described in that way," the advisor replied. "Okay, thanks for that. Can we move on to university funding?" Alex Salmond asked. A different advisor began the briefing on this issue. "Westminster has confirmed its intention to allow English Universities to charge up to £9,000 per annum for course fees. That in turn is leading to lobbying from Scottish Universities for additional funding from ourselves," said the advisor. "We have a history of keeping education free for all in this country," said Salmond. "We took the step to remove tuition fees altogether for Scottish universities, but this step in England is making life difficult for us. I need options on how we maintain our position – that probably means cuts elsewhere. Next, food inflation?" "Prices continue to rise. Forecasts are for a shortage of wheat at major bread manufacturers sometime over the winter," advised another aide. "We'll possibly make it through Christmas, but expect bread shortages sometime in the New Year. Fuel for transport and utilities are also sharply up again and that will inevitably feed-through into general price rises across the board. I'm hearing that we might not be far away from demonstrations in this country over food prices." One or two in the room showed worried looks. The idea that the huge unrest in the Middle East could somehow play out on the streets of the UK was hard to take in. "Where have you heard that?" the FM asked. "The Home Office has certain intelligence assets in place apparently. There's talk of a coalition – a kind of rainbow alliance – of some unlikely groups it has to be said. The National Union of Farmers, the Road Haulage Association, quite a few environmental groups and the country's two largest consumer groups – oh, and the students have been mentioned - the talk is of a national day of action," said the advisor. "Nothing is more guaranteed to lead to unrest than a shortage of basic foodstuffs like bread. If there are power cuts at the same time then I fear the worst," Salmond almost thought aloud. "What are the latest intelligence estimates on the possibility of power cuts?" "The estimates are variable," the energy expert piped up. "Much of it comes down to how much gas we can buy and get through the pipeline from Europe. I understand that Russia is being difficult with prices again, so there could be a shortage of supply at peak periods through January and February in particular. If temperatures drop as low as last year then I think power cuts are a definite possibility." "We are all full of good news this morning, aren't we," groaned the FM. ------- Mrs Dunn's funeral was held in mid December at the main crematorium in Dundee. There weren't many in attendance, but Donnie and his family, together with Katie and Heather did all that they could to support Vivien. Mrs Dunn's effects had all been dealt with, the house reduced for a quick sale, and Vivien was left with an inheritance of £360k once all taxes and expenses had been deducted. The service was blessedly short and Donnie and Katie bracketed Vivien as her mother's remains glided slowly through the velvet curtains towards the unseen furnace. The Minister offered some words of comfort to Vivien too, but even though she had cried throughout, the young girl almost felt relief that it was finally over. In the weeks following the goddess' talk with her, Vivien had found her new friends a constant source of help and encouragement. Douglas had happily explained the basic workings of a combustion engine and started her on some minor maintenance tasks. Donnie had been shocked to see her up to her elbows in grease and oil for the first time, but he could see that this was something that Vivien was very keen to pursue and he was happy to encourage her. Having Mairi and Douglas accepted as next of kin helped smooth over any potential difficulties in keeping Vivien out of the social services system and the transfer to a local school was also achieved without much drama. Donnie, Heather and Katie had already shared out tutoring duties for the subjects Vivien would now pick up and it was clear that her results were about to rocket. They had even managed to arrange for Vivien to enrol at the local college for evening classes on mechanics, something that she was delighted about. Sufficient progress had been made on a number of additional silos at Ardbrecknish and Donnie had amended the plans for one. Instead of the original one hundred layers of growing pods, the number in this silo had been limited to seventy-five to leave room at the bottom of the silo for a range of industrial facilities. One of these was a custom-built facility for Professor White to begin his work in constructing the huge recycling plant. For convenience, Donnie decided that the dome over this silo would also contain additional living accommodation and work had already started on that. Carol was still travelling to the site each day, but she hoped to be able to move herself, Alan and Alisha into the new accommodation early in 2012. She had already investigated nearby schools for Alan as a short-term measure until the 'compound' established its own school. Donnie had also planned a huge New Year's party for the entire village of Ardbrecknish as a way of saying thank you for the fact that they had put up with all of the traffic that had been coming and going to the site over the year. The quiet country roads weren't used to huge plant and loads of concrete and steel constantly being delivered, but so far the locals hadn't made a fuss. Donnie wanted to try and keep things like that if he could, hence the party at his expense. The other members of Katie's immediate family were welcome guests to Scotland for Christmas and New Year. This was Donnie's first chance to meet his prospective mother and sister in law and he hoped things would go well. The planned party was also going to be the occasion when Donnie and Katie formally announced their engagement so Donnie was growing somewhat nervous about everything. "Stop worrying, just be yourself. They'll both love you; in fact I'm a little worried that Jennifer will love you just a little too much!" Katie exclaimed. They were waiting at the international arrivals gate in the airport and Donnie was looking rather pale. "Get a grip; you've faced much worse than this!" he told himself. After reaching out to make a subtle link to his gifts, he finally got his nerves under control. Donnie recognised the two American women even without having ever seen a photograph of them and he stepped forward to welcome them. "You are so stunning that you just have to be the one who brought my nighean ruadh into the world," he said to Rose, as he hugged her and pecked her cheek. "And you must be Jennifer, the most glamorous trainee teacher in the entire US. Fáilte gu Alba (welcome to Scotland) both of you!" Rose considered him carefully, recognising that Donnie's manner and confidence did belie his age – just as Katie had told her. She found herself warming to his charm immediately and allowed him to take her arm. Jennifer was all but struck dumb by the force of Donnie's personality, even within such a few words, and her mouth hung open slightly as she tried to adjust. Before she could gather herself, Donnie took her arm too and escorted mother and daughter over to baggage reclaim. "Now, a less savvy individual would probably underestimate how many bags you lovely ladies needed to pack to see you through your visit," Donnie suggested. "I fully understand the need for you to have just the right thing to wear for every possible occasion though, so I'm guessing we need at least two trolleys?" Rose leant over to whisper in Katie's ear. "My, he is smooth, isn't he?" Katie laughed at her mother's comment. Once they had recovered all of the bags and fully loaded both trolleys, Donnie led the way towards where he had parked. Once again he had shown forward thinking by hiring the Toyota Land Cruiser rather than try and fit the amount of luggage he had guessed at into the little Polo. Rose and Jennifer were booked into the Hilton at Dunblane and that was Donnie's next stop. "Why don't we leave you to freshen up," he suggested. "I've booked a table for us here in the hotel for 19:30 so perhaps we can meet in the bar half an hour before that?" "That would be lovely," Rose replied. "Can I just say that you've been wonderful so far and we really appreciate you picking us up at the airport." "Don't be silly, it was the least I could do for my future in-laws. Besides, I was determined that we would spend as much time together as possible. After all, I know that you must still have concerns as to whether Katie has made the right choice or not, so it's only fair that you get the chance to grill me to your heart's content," Donnie chuckled. Rose bent to whisper to Katie yet again. "Smart as well as good looking!" she said. Katie had her own views on how the meeting had gone and she voiced them as Donnie drove them through Bridge-of-Allan to the apartment. "Mom is already impressed with you," she told Donnie. "You charmed her from the very first and she loved every minute of it. As for that little baggage Jennifer! I was right about her; she couldn't take her eyes off you. As if it wasn't bad enough having Vivien all dewy-eyed about you, now I've got my sister at it too! I think I'll have to be more careful selecting what I wear tonight than I first thought." Donnie knew better than to step into the middle of that, so wisely remained quiet. The meal was a success, with Rose gently but obviously finding out more about the young man who her daughter had fallen in love with. She was taken with his confidence and his ability to talk knowledgeably on just about any subject, but most of all she was impressed by his knack of remaining modest despite his many qualities. By the end of the meal Rose was certain her daughter had made a good choice. Katie smiled to herself as she watched her sister trying to flirt with Donnie all through the meal. The little hussy had worn a dress that scooped low to show an almost immodest amount of cleavage and it was obvious that Jennifer had taken advantage of the hotel's beauty salon to have her make-up professionally done. Laying her hand lightly on Jennifer's arm, Katie leaned close to whisper in her ear. "He's mine, go find your own!" Jennifer at least had the good grace to blush. Donnie was oblivious to the interplay between the sisters, but Rose didn't miss it and she too thought it was cute to see Jennifer vying for Donnie's approval. Donnie proceeded to describe what they had planned for the week. "Tomorrow we planned to take you to Craig Bheithe to meet my parents," said Donnie. "You'll also get the chance to meet Rory – I'm sure that Katie has told you all about him. "We've planned dinner with mom and dad for tomorrow night then you have two days to yourself to take in the sights. The hotel runs tours and there's a train link into both Glasgow and Edinburgh if you need to do any shopping. "There's a party planned for Hogmanay (New Year's Eve) in Ardbrecknish – that's where we're building our wheat facility – and I thought we would take you down there in the afternoon so you can have a look around. The two days after that have been set aside to allow you to recover from the party." "What kind of party is it that needs two recovery days?" asked Jennifer. "Jennifer, this is Scotland and it is New Year!" Katie laughed knowingly. ------- Once again the winter weather was harsh in Scotland – the third really severe winter in a row. Donnie had good cause to be grateful that he had hired the Toyota for the week as the four-wheel drive proved to be invaluable in making sure they could still get around. The meeting of the parents went well and all Donnie had to worry about now was that the Ardbrecknish party was a success. He had spent quite a bit of money on trying to make sure of that and he hoped there would be something to satisfy everyone's tastes. As promised, they descended on the site in the afternoon and Carol was in her element giving them a full tour and describing what everything did. "And you really thought all of this up?" Rose asked. Donnie looked a little sheepish as Beira had been the one who had suggested most of it, but he formed a reply that he thought gave the goddess her due. "I was the one who described what I wanted, but my 'muse' was the one that had the original ideas," he said. "Oh, so now I'm a muse? Enjoy your party, Dòmhnall, because things are only going to get much busier in the coming year!" He glanced at Katie and saw by her smirk that she had heard the goddess' remarks. Four large marquees had been erected close to the shores of Loch Awe – with portable heaters keeping the worst of the winter chill away. Two of the marquees were set out for food and drink – some of the food coming straight from a range of barbeques that had been set up behind the striped 'tents'. It was clear that no expense had been spared and that there would be more than enough food and drink to cater for the entire village twice over. Another marquee was set up with a stage and the equipment made it obvious that there was going to be live music at some point. The final tent was reserved for dancing, with tables around the perimeter of a large dance-floor. What could have been a slightly awkward affair was made easier by Donnie's ability to get on so well with people. The villagers of Ardbrecknish all knew each other very well indeed, whereas Donnie and his group were relative strangers. Donnie worked hard, circulating from table to table, greeting everyone and introducing members of both his family and Katie's. By the time midnight was approaching, everyone had eaten well and a fair amount of alcohol had been consumed. Donnie had one or two little surprises for his guests and now was the time for those to surface. Away in the distance, a bright light suddenly appeared on Ben Cruachan. After a few moments it resolved itself as the image of a clock face with the time to midnight counting down. The party-goers caught on immediately and people streamed from the marquees to join in a combined count to the stroke of midnight. At the final chime, hundreds of fireworks whooshed into the sky overhead in the most fantastic pyrotechnic display that had both adults and children alike gasping. The fireworks continued for a full ten minutes, lighting up the Argyll sky and Donnie felt pleased at how his efforts had gone down. As the final starburst glowed and began to fade, Donnie himself was in for a surprise. Beira's voice spoke inside his head. "Happy New Year, Dòmhnall. Now is the time to claim your heritage as Chief of the Gregorach. Make your announcement!" Katie heard the goddess' words and smiled secretly to herself. She saw this as being her moment, but was willing to let the goddess and Donnie think otherwise. This was the moment when Donnie declared his love for her before all of their guests. Donnie virtually pulled her through the crowds and up on to the stage where the band was getting ready to resume playing. He grabbed the mic and called for everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen! Can I have your attention please?" Katie's grin continued to grow, as she waited for Donnie to tell them all that she had proposed and Donnie had said yes. The grin slipped slightly when Donnie pulled her to him and whispered in her ear "Katie my love, will you lend me your strength, sustain me with your beauty and kiss the tears from our children's eyes to banish sadness from their lives? She managed to nod and Donnie dropped to one knee. "Will you marry me?" The crowd cheered loudly, recognising from Donnie's position what he was doing. Although they couldn't hear the proposal, or Katie's answer, the searing kiss between the couple was all the confirmation that the crowd needed. Rose and Jennifer hugged each other, tears of happiness in their eyes. "That's twice that the goddess has made reference to me as Chief of the McGregors," said Donnie to a grinning Katie. "What does she mean?" "Are you kidding me?" Katie asked, her grin fading. "You mean you really don't know?" "What?" asked Donnie. "I cannot believe that you are so dense!" said Katie. "Did you or did you not meet Katriona's husband – Alexander? You remember, the one who was drunk and you had to save him from drowning in the Mississippi?" "Of course I can remember him, the man shouldn't have been let out on his own," Donnie answered. "What did he say his title was?" Katie asked. "Well, he claimed to be the head of Clan Gregor, but I still gave the ring to Katriona," Donnie replied, still not comprehending Katie's meaning. "Oh goddess, think about it Donnie!" she squealed. "He was head of the clan by virtue of marriage to Katriona. You and I are going to be married and I gave you the ring of the McGregors. What does that suggest?" Realisation finally dawned on him. "You mean ... I will ... will I really be..." "Yes, my love. You really will be the Chief of all the McGregors. That's why the goddess has said it twice now! 'S Rioghal Mo Dhream." "My race is royal," Donnie replied. ------- The long, cold days of January, February and much of March lent themselves to remaining indoors and that's largely what Donnie, Katie, Vivien and Heather did. That allowed them to really hit the books. With all the tutoring that she was receiving, Vivien's results at school were simply remarkable and she had been upgraded to a more demanding timetable with an opportunity to sit her standard grades in May. The mechanics course at college was also going well. Donnie was maintaining his credits and was on course to complete his combined honours degree by early June while Katie and Heather were consistently in the top five percent in their year group. As predicted by the SNP special advisors, there were shortages of bread and power cuts and that fuelled anger at the Westminster Government. With unemployment reaching record numbers and the cost of living still escalating, there was a mood of unrest across the UK. At least the cold weather seemed to have resulted in a reduction in the levels of violence between the white and Pakistani communities, which had to be a good thing. As winter gave way to spring and April brought warmer weather, two things happened that were significant. One was significant in a national sense and the other was more focused on Donnie and what was going on around him. The national event was a by-election in a constituency in the northwest of England. Historically, by-elections were regarded as an opportunity for the electorate to register their views about the government of the day and often resulted in 'freak' outcomes. This by-election caused an outcry when it was won by the right-wing fascists of the British National Party. Tensions in the northwest climbed quickly, with Muslim communities outraged at the result. Disorder became commonplace at night as rival gangs of youths sought to outdo each other in their violent attacks on people and property. In separate incidents, two white youths were set upon by gangs and beaten to death. These deaths simply added more fuel to an already incendiary situation. In a revenge attack, fire-bombs were thrown into a mosque and it burned to the ground before the emergency services could put out the blaze. Mainstream politicians called for calm and tried to bring community leaders together to defuse the situation, but the tension remained simmering at boiling point as the summer drew near. From his position inside the SNP, Donnie heard the details of the series of incidents and worried about where they were going to end. The other event was one that Donnie had worried about since they had found Vivien. She had admitted during her first phone call that she had made a mistake after he had left her at the site of the plane crash. When he eventually remembered to ask her what she had meant by that, Vivien explained that she had shown Donnie's business card to the pilot of the C-17. "He tried to thank me for stemming the loss of blood from his leg, but I told him that you had saved him and the others," she told Donnie. "I completely forgot what I was doing and I flashed your card in front of him." At the time, Donnie had re-assured her that a quick glimpse of a business card was unlikely to lead to any trouble, but the possibility had remained in the back of his head. Returning home from the university campus one Wednesday afternoon, Donnie noticed a car parked on the street outside the apartment. The car seemed to have four occupants in it and Donnie wondered who they were. Once he had parked the Polo, he began walking towards the door to the apartment and the driver's door of the other car opened. Donnie didn't recognise the man who emerged from the car, but there was nothing threatening about his demeanour and the two of them converged. "I'm sorry to bother you," the man began, "you're Donald McGregor, aren't you?" Donnie still didn't feel any negative vibes from the man. "How do you know who I am," he asked. "It's a long story, but a young girl showed me a business card in somewhat unusual circumstances," said the man. "She claimed you had done something to keep my colleagues and me alive." "Camp Bastion," Donnie muttered, realising that Vivien's concerns seemed to have been well-placed. The man had clearly heard his muttered reference to the Afghan base and his face lit up with delight. "She was telling the truth," he said. "You were there!" Donnie thought furiously, trying to find an easy way out of what could be a difficult situation. "Sometimes the most obvious solutions are the best, Dòmhnall. Why don't you simply tell Commander Wilcox and the others the truth?" The goddess' suggestion surprised him, but he guessed that she had an ulterior motive – she normally did. "Listen," said Donnie, "I'm guessing you're Commander Wilcox, are the other three in the car the other ones that survived the crash?" "You know my name?" the Commander reacted in surprise. "He is Jack Wilcox and the others are Louise Coleman, Peter MacAdam and Eric Black. They're all perfectly safe, Dòmhnall. They mean you no harm, quite the opposite in fact." "Yes, Jack. I know your name," Donnie confirmed. "Why don't you ask Louise, Peter and Eric to join us and we can try and deal with why you thought it was necessary to track me down?" Donnie didn't wait for an answer, but instead headed for the door to the apartment. He turned the key in the lock and then waited for his visitors to join him. From the animated discussion, it appeared as if the Commander was hurriedly telling his companions what had been said so far. After a few moments, the others got out of the car and all four began walking towards Donnie. It suddenly occurred to Donnie that Vivien would already be home from school by now and she was about to get quite a shock. Donnie opened the door and ushered his nervous looking guests inside. "Vivien?" he called. "We've got company. Could you put the kettle on please?" He gestured to the sofas and chairs in the sitting room and invited them to make themselves comfortable. "Why don't you make yourselves at home?" Curious as to who the 'company' might be, Vivien wandered into the room. She seemed to recognise Commander Wilcox at the exact same moment that he recognised her and both of them gasped, Vivien also raising a hand to cover her mouth. The others looked at each other, unsure of what was going on. Donnie read the confusion and tried to make things easier for all of them. "My guess is that Vivien and Jack just recognised each other from the night of the crash," he offered. "You have to remember that everything was chaotic – it was dark, you were all messed up - and I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't have recognised any of you if we passed on the street. Vivien and Jack did at least speak to each other that night I believe, so they've got an advantage over the rest of us. Vivien, maybe you could boil that kettle now?" Once everyone had a mug of coffee or tea, Donnie tried to establish some control. "Perhaps it might help if you explain how you found me and what it is you hope to achieve by coming here today?" he asked. The others looked at the Commander, making it clear that he was the spokesperson for the group. "None of us remember seeing you that night," he told Donnie. "Eric and Peter have vague recollections of someone helping them – of someone taking most of the pain away." Donnie nodded in encouragement trying to get the Commander to continue. "When I regained consciousness, this delightful girl told me that there was a helicopter on its way to rescue me and the others. She explained that someone else with very strong healing powers had saved all of us. I asked her to explain and she told me that each of us had wounds that would have killed us if this other person hadn't appeared. She waved a business card in front of me and I can still see it now." "That might explain a little of how you found me, but not all of it," said Donnie. "It doesn't tell me why you thought it was necessary to come here and why?" The Commander looked at the others and some unspoken communication passed between them. "We've all kept in touch since the crash," he said. "Some of us were in rehab together, others not, but there was just a feeling that we were the only survivors and we needed to hold on to something from that awful night. "When I told the others about my conversation with..." He hesitated, waiting for either Donnie or Vivien to provide her name again. "It's Vivien," she told him. "Yes, Vivien. When I told the others about what you had told me, Peter and Eric believed it immediately. They both swear they felt something that night." Both of the men nodded their agreement. "Louise was much more sceptical," the Commander continued. "Anyway, we agreed that we had to try and find you if only to find out if what Vivien said was true. If it was, then how could you do what you did and how can we ever repay you? "The name and company were a good starting point. Louise is, sorry was, in intelligence. Eric is a techno wizard. Between them, finding you was pretty easy really." "So what now? You've found me, what now?" Donnie asked. "Would you tell us what happened that night?" Wilcox asked, almost pleading. Donnie sighed, but remembered the goddess' advice. Unbuttoning his shirt, he revealed the brand on his shoulder. A nod to Vivien encouraged her to pull her sleeve up to reveal the brand that she had too. "There's no easy or more believable way to start this, so I'll just get the most difficult bit over with first. Vivien serves a healing goddess named Sironaidh. She has only just begun her service to her goddess and she is still developing her gift. Nonetheless, her goddess transported her to try and save you." Donnie stopped to allow the comments of disbelief to be expressed, but all he got were stunned expressions. "I serve a different goddess, but I have also been given the gift of healing. When my goddess transported me, Vivien had done what she could to help you, but you were in trouble. "You had a ruptured spleen and internal bleeding." Donnie paused to lock eyes with Eric Black. "You had a punctured lung and swelling on the brain from a concussion." This time he focused on Peter MacAdam. You had a shrapnel wound that had severed an artery and you were bleeding out," he told the Commander. Turning to Louise Coleman, Donnie gave her a weak smile. "I'm not surprised that you were sceptical, you didn't have any injuries and I didn't have to do anything for you at all." He flicked his eyes over each of them in turn. "That's what happened that night. Vivien toiled to stabilise you as well as she could and above all the goddesses wanted you to live," Donnie concluded. The atmosphere felt heavy in the room and the 'survivors' alternately looked at each other, the floor and Donnie. Commander Wilcox eventually cleared his throat and got the attention of the other three. Nods passed between them. "We would like to offer you our services," Wilcox told Donnie. ------- Chapter 22 Donnie stood on the viewing gallery inside silo #1 and surveyed the first wheat crop with some pride. Row upon row, pod upon pod were growing well and it would soon be time to start the first harvest. The grain would be stored within the purpose-built hoppers that were an integral part of the walls of the silo. The stalks of the wheat would also be gathered and bailed before being sold on as animal feed. "It still looks unreal to see all these layers of wheat growing so far underground," said Carol, who was standing beside him. "The best bit is that within a couple of weeks we'll have another crop planted and growing," Donnie observed. "Using artificial light and heat means we're not constrained by the seasons and we can grow two crops a year." "There are another twelve silos ready to plant," Carol informed him. "The final building work to finish the remaining silos should be complete by the end of the year. That will just leave the surface buildings, domes and the landscaping to finish it all off." "With the way grain prices are continuing to rise, it won't be long before this site is paying for itself," Donnie smiled. "When do you think the additional accommodation will be needed?" Carol asked. "The four new people you hired have all moved in, but to be honest, the amount of space is an embarrassment." "I'm not sure when we'll fill the space up," Donnie answered. "The goddess won't tell me!" he added to himself. It was almost as if Donnie's thought attracted the attention of the goddess and within seconds he heard her voice. "You need to learn to be patient, Dòmhnall. I keep telling you that things will eventually become clear. This facility is going to need many people to get it into full production. I've had you build living accommodation and other facilities to comfortably fit several hundred families. This summer, I want you to revive the ancient clan gathering. Send messages out around the world, call clan McGregor from wherever they have been scattered." The idea immediately grabbed Donnie and he turned to Carol. "Maybe we can do something to step up our recruitment over the summer," he said. "How does the idea of a McGregor clan gathering sound to you?" "What is it?" Carol asked. "A traditional clan gathering involves trials of strength, the showing of livestock, games for the kids and other things like genealogy," Donnie explained. "It's basically an excuse to get the clan together from all over the world and celebrate being a McGregor!" Everyone Donnie spoke to after that was excited by the idea of a gathering and a date was quickly fixed. As part of the arrangements, Donnie gave Eric Black his first job for Gregorach Enterprises. "Eric, I need you to come up with an online strategy to contact as many people with a connection to the McGregor clan as possible," Donnie explained. "I've decided to hold a clan gathering in the summer and I want to attract as many people as possible. Any ideas?" Eric had already installed a dizzying array of equipment in the accommodation he had been assigned at Ardbrecknish. Almost before Donnie had finished speaking, Eric's fingers were flying across his keyboard. "We'll need a domain name to set up a dedicated website," Eric provided a commentary for what he was already doing. "I'll need an idea of the surnames to target and then I can basically hack into some government databases to get contact details so I can mailshot the target audience. You might think about some advertising too." Donnie could see that Eric already had a list of surnames and he seemed to be writing a program to perform some kind of search function. "What are the dates? What about accommodation? Have you come up with a programme of events yet?" Eric fired off a string of questions. Donnie could see that he had a lot to organise in a relatively short space of time. ------- Archie Roy had told Donnie that he was keeping a low profile as he knew that he had come under scrutiny from the UK security services. That wasn't entirely accurate though. He hadn't been idle and in the best traditions of the doctrine of the SAS, Archie was trying to go on the attack. He had started by trying to learn more about 'sonny'. Archie called in a few favours from people he had worked with in the past. The covert nature of some of the roles the SAS undertook meant that he had come across intelligence staff on a regular basis. Now he was trying to quietly put a name to 'sonny's' boyish face. This was something that couldn't be rushed. Archie cast his net and then had to sit back and wait to see if anything came back. To have been more aggressive would probably have resulted in alarm bells going off somewhere. After almost six months, all Archie had was a possible name – Fergus Malloy. That was a start though. Archie was also interested in the two detective inspectors who had tried to arrest Donnie. Dave Lawrence had told him about the reference one of the officers had made to a 'tip-off' when they had searched the apartment. For Archie, that spelt trouble and he knew it was something that he would have to follow up. He decided that he could be more aggressive while investigating the officers and used some of Donnie's money to basically buy as much information as he could get. A conversation with Donnie had told Archie that details of his financial transactions, his bets and his lottery wins shouldn't have been freely available. His first task was therefore to identify how the police had found out about them. Just where had the 'tip-off' come from? With the arrival of Louise Coleman and Eric Black at Ardbrecknish, Archie rubbed his hands at the prospect of how he could use them in his line of work. He knew Louise had been in intelligence and that Eric was a wizard with technology. "Perhaps between them, they can help me make some progress?" he thought. Gathering the pair together in one of the completed meeting rooms at Ardbrecknish, Archie probed to identify how they could help. "What branches of intelligence have you worked with?" he asked Louise. Archie could see immediately that Louise was not keen to discuss her service. "Look, I know you signed the official secrets act – I did too – but you work for Donnie now," he argued. "I'm not going to ask you to reveal anything that would compromise your integrity, but from what I've found out so far, I suspect that someone in intelligence is involved." "How so?" Louise asked. "Why would intelligence be interested in Donnie?" "Someone tipped-off the police about Donnie's financial transactions – now anyone in the markets could do that," Archie explained. "However, the informant also passed on the fact that Donnie had won four lottery competitions in three different countries. In my book the only people who would know that would be intelligence. That amount of money moving about is always notified to them." Louise nodded to confirm that what Archie was saying was true. "I'd even hazard a guess that his winnings from the bookies were big enough to have been reported too – probably by Donnie's bank," Archie added. Again Louise nodded. "Why would the intelligence services pass that information on to the police?" Archie asked. "Too much to do," Louise replied. "There are only a limited number of human assets available to cover everything. When something like this comes up, we pass it to the uniforms to take a look – it's routine." "Are you sure?" Archie pressed. "Donnie's involvement with the SNP wouldn't be something that they could be worried about? This entire facility and Donnie's inventions wouldn't attract their interest?" Louise thought about that before answering. "Anything that has the potential to influence the political landscape interests them. If Donnie has influence, if he's funding the SNP, then sure – that would attract their attention," she said. "The SNP are making policy and passing legislation here in Scotland, if Donnie's in any way shaping that then they're on him. He doesn't seem to have extreme views though, so I think it's doubtful." "What about this place?" Archie asked again. "If the projections I've heard are true, this facility might soon be producing a heck of a lot of wheat," Louise observed. "You've seen the stories on the news as much as I have. There are riots all across the Middle East – partly because of food inflation – and we've already experienced bread shortages here in the UK. "If food, or a lack of it, could lead to civil unrest, then again the intelligence services will be interested. That could put this place on their radar. Now the stuff that Professor White is working on – that's a definite if they know about it. Anything that could affect the balance of power in terms of imports – especially oil – will be high on their agenda," Louise finished. "Instead of all this guesswork, why don't I just take a look in their systems and find out?" Eric volunteered. Archie turned to look at the 'geek'. "You mean you could do that?" he asked. "I don't know until I try," Eric replied. "I haven't met a system yet that I couldn't hack though. With Louise's help it should be a swizz." "What can I do?" Louise asked doubtfully. "Well, you can tell me what kind of system it is, you can tell me your last log-in details and you could describe the kind of packages you used for a start," Eric replied. "Particularly what e-mail system was used." "Can I leave you to try it?" Archie asked. "If you find anything I want to know as soon as. Oh, if you do get in, I'm interested in a spook called Fergus Molloy as well. If you can find out anything about him, I'd like that too." Eric and Louise nodded to show they were willing. Archie went in search of Donnie to discuss some other issues that were bothering him. ------- Archie found Donnie discussing a potential cost over-run with Carol. He waited for the conversation to finish and then indicated that he had something he wanted to go over with Donnie. "Can we talk?" Archie asked. "Of course," said Donnie. "It's good to see you around the place. Have you decided it's safe for you to go out in public again without a spook looking to follow you?" Archie let Donnie have his little joke. "I've been looking round the site here," Archie said. "You've completed twelve stand-alone family units, with eight more almost done. There's eight different accommodation blocks with ten apartments each, there's a school, a surgery, a theatre, meeting rooms and an exercise facility with a half-sized pool. There are various storerooms and community spaces too. "So far there are less than a dozen people living on the site, but with all the amenities you're building I'm guessing it won't be too long before the numbers start to increase. Somebody has to fill all the jobs you're creating I guess." Donnie nodded. "Things are going to get chaotic here if you don't appoint someone to manage logistics," Archie suggested. "Jack Wilcox may be a pilot, but as a Commander he's got experience of running a base. Why don't you make him responsible for the running of the site?" Donnie thought about what Archie was saying and he could see that it made sense. If he appointed Jack now, before numbers increased, then the Commander would have the chance to familiarise himself with everything and get organised. "That sounds like a good idea," Donnie agreed. "I'll speak to Jack and see if he's interested. You've already been assigned Peter MacAdam for security, but I'm keeping Louise and Eric for myself just for now." "Good, I can certainly use Peter," Archie grinned. "That brings me onto the other thing I wanted to mention. I've asked Louise and Eric to do a little job for me. Given what you've just said about keeping them for yourself, I hope you don't mind me taking advantage of their skills?" "No, it should be fine for now. I certainly don't have enough to keep them fully occupied yet," Donnie conceded. "How are things with your studies and the SNP?" Archie asked now that he had his business out of the way. "The studies are almost finished and I think I've done okay," Donnie answered. "As for my political career, Parliament is not far from recess so there isn't much going on. I do have the First Minister's weekly briefing to attend this afternoon though." "How's Vivien doing?" Archie asked. "She's fine, champing at the bit to get to the farm this weekend so she can work on an old tractor that's been sitting idle for nearly fifty years. I swear that girl just loves getting covered in oil and grease!" ------- The First Minister's briefing re-ran much of what had been covered the week before. The Middle East was still very much in turmoil with troops now dug-in around major oil facilities in Bahrain and Saudi Arabia. Wells were still burning in Libya, as they had been for months now. The west looked on as thousands of barrels of oil went up in smoke, but there was nothing they could do as the Libyans were refusing all offers of assistance. "Talk to me about food production," Alex Salmond demanded. "I'm hearing worrying things as I go round the country." "Well, the news doesn't look good," an adviser piped up. "The Chief Scientist's Office (CSO) has confirmed what many farmers are saying. Our summer seems to be shrinking somehow." "In what way?" asked the FM. "The average temperatures are falling dramatically," said the advisor. "The CSO says that we are actually getting close to the point where the growing season for certain crops might be too short and we won't be able to grow them anymore." Donnie realised that this was akin to what his father had told him about the previous year at Craig Bheithe farm. "Impact?" Salmond barked. "A significant impact on our balance of trade figures," said another advisor. "The less we can grow for ourselves, the more we have to buy in. Shortages elsewhere in the world mean that the prices for imports are going sky-high into the bargain." "Anything else?" "Em, we've had complaints about livestock too, First Minister," an advisor added hesitantly. Donnie sat up a little straighter, wondering if this was the other issue his father had complained about before Christmas. "What's happening with livestock?" asked the FM. Donnie listened as the advisor told the same tale as his father. The big supermarkets were using their position to drive down prices for livestock. They were then transporting the livestock into England for slaughter and the prices they were charging in-store for the processed meat showed a huge mark up over the purchase price. "Are you telling me they are charging our consumers ten times the amount they are paying our farmers?" Salmond asked in disbelief. There were nods around the table. "Anthony, set up a meeting with representatives from the four biggest retailers. I want to challenge them on this," Salmond ordered. "Anything else?" "Sir, two things from my counterpart in Westminster," an aide spoke up. "Covering?" Salmond asked. "More on the possible protests about food inflation and something on significant migration north," the aide replied. "Go on, tell us about them," Salmond ordered. "Intelligence reports are saying there definitely will be a national day of action in June. Actions planned include a mass rally in London and one here in Edinburgh. The protesters are also planning to blockade the main supermarket distribution centres and all ports where foreign food is being landed." "What's the point of that?" asked Donnie. "All they're going to achieve is a delay in food getting to the shelves. What good will that do?" No one answered Donnie's questions, as most agreed that the action sounded pretty pointless. "And the migration thing?" Salmond asked. "This is interesting. There has always been a steady trickle of people from Pakistani origins coming north to Scotland. The intelligence reports are saying that trickle has turned into a steady stream in recent months. The migration is coming from the north of England and Yorkshire, with some suggestion that it's linked to the BNP by-election victory and the subsequent racial violence. Estimates make it over three hundred in the last six months." "You mean they're coming north to get away from trouble? The FM asked. "That's what my source is telling me." "First Minister, before we finish I feel I have to mention National Health Service funding," another civil servant volunteered. "Not again, Henry!" Salmond groaned. "Sir, half of the health boards in Scotland have used up all of their reserve funding to help them meet the challenging financial targets we've set them this year. In my view there is a real risk that the NHS will be in crisis within a year. The first tangible signs of that may well be a shortage of funding to pay for flu vaccines this coming winter!" "Henry, the NHS is always crying out for money. It would spend the entire Scottish budget and still cry out for more!" the FM said scornfully. "Tell the NHS to cut out the waste that we hear about every day! That would give them more to spend." The briefing was wound up after those stinging remarks and Donnie left, worrying how his parents were doing if farming was being hit as hard as the special advisors were suggesting. "Never mind, we're going across to the farm this weekend. I'll get dad alone and ask if he needs any financial help." ------- Craig Bheithe Farm, June 2012 "So Donnie, your student days are over, I bet you thought you'd never see the day," Mairi beamed at her son proudly. "I've enjoyed it, mom. There's no doubt that having the access behind the scenes with the SNP made a big difference, and I'm confident my final results will be good," Donnie replied. "And how are Katie and Vivien doing?" Mairi asked. "Vivien thinks she's done well in her standard grades – but her attention is now totally on that old tractor out there. We can't get her to shut up about it," said Donnie. "As for Katie, she's not been out of the top five all year, so she'll do well and then she'll have one year left to go. We can't get her to shut up about the wedding!" "Yes, the wedding! She's roped me into that as well," Mairi admitted. "It's going to be a busy summer." "At least she had the idea of combining the wedding with the clan gathering," said Donnie. "That way we only have to worry about one big event. Katie says that I become clan chief once we're married, so it makes sense to bring both events together." "Ah, here comes the bride-to-be now, why don't you leave us to our scheming and go and find your father?" Mairi suggested. Katie bustled into the farmhouse sitting room, her arms full of plans for the various aspects of the wedding. Donnie thought his mother's suggestion was a good one and he hurried off to try and find his father. Douglas was supervising the removal of the engine from an old Ford 8N tractor that had been rusting in the barn for almost fifty years. Vivien was determined that she would do all of the work herself – apart from the heavy lifting. Donnie could see Vivien in the inspection pit under the Ford. She was spraying and oiling in preparation for removing the bolts that were all that was now stopping her from winching the engine clear. With Vivien totally focused on the tractor, Donnie took the opportunity of asking his father how the farm was doing financially. "Dad, before Christmas you told me you ran the farm at a loss last year. Over the past few weeks I've been hearing expert opinion that the growing season is shrinking and that farmers are being squeezed again this year on livestock. Are you coping?" Donnie asked. Douglas McGregor was a proud man, but he wasn't stupid. He knew he couldn't continue to sustain the losses the farm was experiencing, but he didn't know any other life. His son's question brought the concerns he had been grappling with into sharp focus. "Donnie, unless the weather changes dramatically the grain yield this year will be even worse than last," he admitted. "I haven't sold any livestock for the past two years because I refuse to accept what the supermarkets are offering. That's meant a significant loss of income though. If the prices don't go up this year – allowing me to sell – then I'm afraid I'll have to approach the bank for a loan." Donnie had suspected as much. He had a plan in mind, but he knew he had to be careful how he raised it with his father to ensure it didn't sound like charity. "Is it true that the growing season is shrinking again?" Donnie asked. "It is, I swear it is," Douglas responded. "Even if the grain does ripen this year, the moisture content will all but ruin it!" "You know, we've just harvested the first crop at Ardbrecknish," Donnie told his father. "The beauty of using artificial conditions is that you control the growing season. We're already planning our second crop." Douglas cast an envious glance at his son. "It was a great idea, I'm glad it's working out for you," he said. "Dad, so far that's one silo – one hundred acres – two hundred tonnes of wheat. This time last year the price of wheat jumped to $330 a tonne. Now it's standing at $510. When I get the other silos working it will be like a gold mine!" Douglas beamed with pride at his son's achievement, not realising that Mairi had done the same not long before. "There's a slight problem though, dad. Well actually, there's two," Donnie suggested. Douglas focused on what his son was saying. "If even twenty of the silos were in full production, with two harvests each year, that would be 8,000 tonnes of wheat or $4million. I can't afford the time to oversee that, there are too many other things to do," Donnie explained. Douglas saw where his son was heading. "Donnie, I can't give up the farm. Our family has been here for generations. I can't do that," he sighed. "Aha! But I'm not suggesting you give up the farm, dad," Donnie tried to play his main card. "What if we built a couple of silos here – that would increase your crop significantly and take out the weather as a variable. Everything's mechanised and that would allow you to manage both sites!" Douglas tried not to let his excitement show. "What about the sheep?" he asked. "What if we ran the sheep under the domes at Ardbrecknish? What if we slaughtered them ourselves and sold the meat directly to the public instead of through the supermarkets? What would you think of that?" Donnie asked. It was clear that Douglas liked that idea a lot. "There's a huge margin," he admitted. "We could undercut the supermarkets easily." Donnie sensed he was close. "If you moved to Ardbrecknish, you would be closer to your future grandchildren and you could also solve the other problem – Rory and Vivien want to spend half their time here!" Douglas burst out laughing at that, recognising it as truth. "It might be difficult convincing your mother," he managed to get out. "Oh, I think that Katie is working on that even as we speak!" said Donnie. ------- Archie answered his phone and then rushed across the Ardbrecknish site towards Eric Blacks apartment. He burst in the door and his excitement was in stark contrast to 'the geek' sitting hunched over his computer screen. Louise was also calm, sitting in a chair alongside Eric. "What have you got for me?!" Archie panted. Eric gave him a look that asked why he was so excited. "I got into the intelligence net," he said. "And? Come on man, don't fuck about! What have you got?" Eric frowned at the cursing, but responded nonetheless. "I managed to crack it, Louise was the key – she made it possible. The initial results were disappointing though," he explained. "Why?" Archie asked. "There was nothing about Donnie, nothing at all," Eric bemoaned. Archie seemed to deflate when he heard Eric's words. Eric actually laughed at his expression. "There was no trace of Donnie, but..." "What?" Archie barked. "I went after Fergus Malloy and things got a little more interesting," Eric grinned. Archie was confused and his face showed it. "Okay, what have you got on Malloy?" he asked. "Well, there was quite a bit of stuff – codeword stuff. He's got a gig running called tartan terror and lo and behold if it doesn't include details of Donnie's financial stuff. It looks like this is where the police got their information," Eric explained. "What else is he interested in?" Archie asked. "Oh, all of it!" Eric chuckled. "Ardbrecknish, the SNP, the money – Molloy has got the hots for Donnie!" ------- Chapter 23 "There's all kinds of juicy stuff in those files," said Eric. "Well, don't be shy. Share it with me," Archie encouraged. "Okay, but you're not going to like some of it," Eric replied. "I think Malloy must have had you followed after your first meeting with him because the data on the system has linked the tip-offs about the terror suspects to Donnie. Not long after that, MI5 seem to have picked up on Donnie's financial transactions and linked those to your tip-offs – they put two and two together and came up with five. That seems to have been the point that they passed on details about the money to the police." Archie scowled at that. He had quickly identified that he was being followed after the second meeting with Malloy at the police station, but he hadn't considered the possibility that the same thing had happened after the first meeting. "Shit! So I ended up leading him to Donnie?" Archie asked. "Well in one sense," Eric confirmed. "They also had information from the banks about the sudden increase in funds in Donnie's accounts. But it's the tip-offs that started getting them really interested. They knew there was nothing illegal with the money, so Louise was wrong on that. It wasn't passed to the police as a routine matter, it looks like they were trying to unsettle Donnie to see if he panicked and did something stupid." "Why give Donnie the codename Tartan Terror though?" Archie asked. "We are the ones who passed on the information that stopped the terrorist attacks. Why would we do that if we were the bad guys?" "Maybe they don't quite understand the relationships," Louise pitched in. "What do you mean?" asked Archie. "Well, maybe they think that Donnie was involved in some way – perhaps bankrolling the terrorists for example – and that you got the information by working for him. Don't you see? Maybe they think you are squealing on Donnie!" Louise explained. Archie saw what she meant. His explanations as to how he had come across the information about the planned attacks had been somewhat flimsy – Malloy had challenged him on it. He was appalled that his failure to spot that he was being 'tailed' looked as if it had put Donnie in the position of being a terror suspect. "What else will they be doing if they think Donnie is a 'player'?" Archie asked. "I suspect they'll be giving him the full treatment," Louise responded. "His phones will be monitored; he'll probably be under surveillance..." Eric interrupted her. "Both of those are logged on their system. There's also some information that suggests they're trying to get someone on the inside here at Ardbrecknish," he told them. "That would make sense," Louise agreed. "They're probably worried about what this site is for and having one of their own on the inside would be a good way of getting reliable information." "Fat chance of that succeeding though," Eric sneered. Louise and Archie looked at him, puzzled that he was so positive that the intelligence service wouldn't be able to plant an undercover operative. "Why are you so sure they won't succeed?" asked Archie. "Oh they might get someone on the construction team, but beyond that – no chance!" Eric stated emphatically. "Why are you so sure?" asked Louise. "What? Haven't you two sussed it out yet?" Eric asked in surprise. "Sussed what out?" asked Archie, some annoyance creeping into his tone. "All of the people that Donnie employs are connected to the McGregor clan," Eric told them. "Look." He pulled up his list of names that he was working on for the clan gathering. "There's Roy and Coleman and look, there's mine, Black – can't you see it now? What are the chances that MI5 has got a member of the McGregor clan on its books and available to go undercover? What are the chances that Malloy even knows that you have to be a McGregor to get a job here?" "Are you sure about this?" asked Archie. In response, Eric pointed out the other surnames of the people Donnie had recruited to work for Gregorach Enterprises. "Well I'll be damned," said a stunned Louise. "We still need to warn Donnie about this," said Archie. "I'll also have to confess that because of my sloppiness, MI5 are watching him and listening-in to his calls." "Why didn't his damned goddess warn him?" Louise asked. ------- London, June 2012 The snaking line of protesters stretched back for something like two miles. Police estimates put the total figure at over 50,000 men, women and children, many carrying banners and placards. A police helicopter flew overhead, manoeuvring along the line of the march towards the Houses of Parliament. The banners gave some clues as to which groups the protesters came from with slogans such as A fair deal for farmers or Greenpeace against Greed and more bread for less dough! representing the farmers, environmentalists and consumer groups respectively. There were people up and down the line with loudhailers and they led the throng in a series of protest chants. "What do we want?" "Fair prices!" "When do we want them?" "NOW!" The police commander was standing at the heart of his control centre, pleased that things seemed to be passing off peacefully. Whenever 50,000 people came together, there was always a risk of a flashpoint, but so far the protests had been good-natured. "This is charlie-one-niner, I have two individuals on the roof of the Preston building, over." The commander flicked his eyes to the screen that was displaying the images coming from C-19, the police helicopter above the marchers. The screen showed two men dressed all in black with scarves pulled up to cover their faces. "They're carrying a case or something, over." On the screen the commander saw what the helicopter pilot was describing. "Get someone on that roof right now!" the commander ordered. "I have a flame, repeat; the individuals on the roof have lit something. Going in for a closer look, over." "Oh my god!" breathed the commander as he looked at the screen and realised what he was watching. The 'case' was actually a crate and it held a dozen bottles with rags sticking from the tops – it was a case of petrol bombs. Both of the black-clad figures were now holding a burning torch of some description and they used these to light the first of the bottles. The commander stood in stunned silence as these were thrown from the roof-top, down onto the passing protesters. As quickly as possible the attackers grabbed further bottles from the crate, lit them and threw them into the crowd below. "I have petrol bombs being thrown into the street from the roof-top. Two assailants now heading for the fire escape. Suggest emergency services will be required – there are people burning down there." The calm voice of the helicopter pilot was completely at odds given what he was describing. On the street there was carnage and panic. Twelve petrol bombs had been thrown. Seven bottles hit people and banners and that cushioning stopped them from breaking open. Five others hit the roadway though and shattered, spraying burning fuel and glass amongst the crowd. Two quite opposite reactions from those in close proximity to the flames had a profound effect. Some used banners or their own jackets to wrap around those on fire and then rolled the people on the ground to douse the flames. Others panicked and pressed outwards from the flames with the result that some people found themselves knocked over and trampled on. ------- Donnie was at the weekly FM briefing once again. The topic being discussed was the food shortages and the actions of the big retailers in squeezing Scottish farmers. "Weather conditions are likely to exacerbate the shortages and drive prices up even higher," said an advisor. "Floods in India and Western Australia have had a significant effect on wheat production. Drought in China, Russia and the US is doing the same. Normally the UK is all but self-sufficient in wheat – we produce around 15 million metric tonnes and use about 12.5 million. That's going to change this year. Yields will be severely affected by the weather. We might have a deficit of as much as 5 million tonnes." "What alternatives do we have?" asked the FM. "Persuading consumers to change their eating habits takes a long time," the advisor replied. "In any event, all of the other staples like rice or corn are just as badly affected." Alex Salmond's expression made it clear that he was unhappy. "You have to give me something to work with!" he all but shouted. "Anthony, have the big four retailers responded to my demands? Can we at least give people some good news about the price of meat?" Anthony Brown didn't meet the First Minister's eye, and instead shuffled through his papers. "Err, I'm afraid the response wasn't positive, First Minister," he stammered. "They say that economic conditions are such that they can't agree to your request to lower prices for consumers." "First Minister? Can I make a suggestion?" Donnie interjected. Alex Salmond swivelled in his chair to look at Donnie. "You don't need to ask permission to contribute here, Donnie," the FM scowled. "My parents are farmers and they've been facing this for two years now. I've suggested two things. The first is a new approach to growing grain that removes the climactic problems. The second might interest you given the response from the supermarkets that Anthony has just shared with us." The First Minister perked up at that. He didn't like being beaten and the response from the retailers rankled with him. "Tell me about this second idea," he encouraged. "Well, I convinced my parents to slaughter their own livestock and to cut out the supermarkets by selling at a much lower price through the farmer's markets," Donnie explained. The First Minister's eyes lit up. He focused on one of the advisors. "What capacity do we have in terms of abattoirs? "Err ... I'm not sure ... I do know that they are complaining that too much business has been diverted to England recently." "I want immediate figures on whether it would be feasible for us to buy the Scottish livestock, slaughter it here in Scotland and sell it to our consumers at half the cost of the supermarkets! Let's see what we can do to adjust these 'economic conditions' that are influencing the big four!" ordered the FM. Donnie smiled at the way Alex Salmond had picked up his suggestion. "Dòmhnall, I hate doing this, but I need your service NOW!" Donnie felt the familiar vertigo. ------- London, June 2012 Donnie's first sense was of the crushing weight bearing down on him. He quickly linked to his gifts and drew on the inner strength of Tailtui. That allowed him to push back against the downward pressure. When he felt able to breathe again, Donnie realised there was something underneath him. Pushing with all his strength, he was able to get to his hands and knees and looking down he saw the 'something' was actually a girl. Glancing around himself, Donnie realised that he was in the middle of a sizeable crowd, a crowd in something of a panic. People were screaming and pushing in all directions. Even as Donnie watched, another woman was knocked from her feet and was lost under the press of people around her. "Get her to safety, Dòmhnall. She has two broken ribs that need to be healed." With some difficulty, Donnie managed to get to his feet and he pulled the girl up with him. Upright, he was better able to withstand the buffeting and he held the girl close as he let the press of the crowd carry them along. Already he was pushing waves of healing energy into the girl and he could sense her ribs healing. Once Donnie was sure the girl was no longer in pain, he turned his attention to the task of getting them out of the crowd. He saw a side street and began angling them towards it. Eventually he could feel the press of bodies around them easing until he was able to escape and follow some others who were streaming into the side street. Donnie set the girl down on her feet and saw that she was fully conscious. "Are you okay? Can you stand?" he asked. The girl nodded and Donnie dropped his hands from her shoulders. He had to quickly grab her again as two men crashed into her, almost knocking her off her feet, as they ran towards the crowd. "HEY!" Donnie yelled. One of the men turned and gave him a dirty look, but kept running. Donnie couldn't be sure, but he thought they were Indian or perhaps Pakistani. He wondered why they were so desperate to head into the crowd. Donnie got his answer a moment later when two policemen raced past, clearly pursuing the two men. "I'm fine, you don't need to hold me up any longer," the girl said. Donnie realised he still had her in a tight hug and he blushed as he let her go. "Or maybe I'm not fine after all. Perhaps you need to hold me a while longer," the girl smiled, teasing him gently. "I'm sorry, I thought you were going to fall again," Donnie muttered. His words seemed to remind the girl of the narrow escape she had just had and the colour drained from her face. "I was terrified back there. I tripped and then people just trampled over me. Thank god you managed to get me to my feet," she said. She pressed her left hand to her ribs and gave Donnie a funny look. "I was sure my ribs were damaged, the pain was awful, but now it's gone. How weird is that?" she asked. "Good. I'm glad you're okay, I need to get going," said Donnie, sure that the goddess would be transporting him back at any moment now the girl was safe and her ribs healed. "Wait! Aren't you even going to tell me your name?" the girl pleaded. "Oh, it's Donnie, Donnie McGregor. You take care now," Donnie told her and began hurrying up the street. "Thank you! Thank you, Donnie McGregor!" the girl called after him. "My name is Lizzie, Lizzie Grieg!" Donnie turned into a shop doorway and felt his stomach tensing. ------- "Why don't you speak to the CSO about the feasibility of the grain idea," Alex Salmond said. Donnie blinked and realised that he was back in the middle of the First Minister's briefing and that Salmond was speaking to him. "I'm sorry, I was thinking about something else," Donnie lied. "Could you repeat that?" "You said you had another idea, one for growing grain that addressed the problems with the climactic conditions," Salmond repeated. "I think you should speak to the Chief Scientist about it." Donnie nodded to show that he would do as the FM suggested. At that moment the door to the FM's office opened and a civil servant entered. "First Minister, there's something breaking that I think you should see," he rattled out. He walked to a TV set in the corner of the room and turned it on. Lifting the remote control, the man flicked the buttons until he reached Sky News. Images of the streets of London were showing now on the screen. The crowds had largely dispersed but there were police officers, firemen and ambulance paramedics still very much in evidence. The civil servant used the remote to turn up the volume. ... are now all but deserted, but less than twenty minutes ago this was the scene of an incredible attack. Eye witnesses describe two men appearing on this roof from where they threw a series of petrol bombs into the crowds of protesters. Reports tell us that there are twenty-three people being treated for burns, some of them very severe indeed. But that wasn't the worst of this attack. Understandably the petrol bombs caused panic amongst the crowd and that in turn caused a stampede. A spokesman for the NHS has told me that there are four dead and another eighteen with serious injuries as a result of being crushed. Police have arrested two men believed to be of Pakistani origins... For Donnie, the news report was surreal as he had been in the middle of the crowd what only seemed moments before. He realised that, but for the goddess asking him to save her, Lizzie Grieg would have made the death toll five rather than four. "Has there been any trouble with the march through Edinburgh?" Alex Salmond asked. "No, Sir. Everything passed off peacefully," the civil servant replied. Donnie wondered absently why the goddess had wanted him to save that particular girl and not any of the four that had died. As always, she hadn't thought it was important to explain to him why he was asked to do what he did. ------- The two men that had been arrested were being held under the prevention of terrorism act. Both were on an MI5 'watch list' and Fergus Malloy had been informed as soon as their identities were confirmed. MI5 took over the interrogation of the men and they reviewed the evidence that the police had already gathered together. Malloy was at his desk, staring at his PC screen, as he read the initial report that had been e-mailed to him. ... Asif Belaj and Yakub Dossei are both connected to suspected Al Qaeda operative, Imam Ali Assam. Neither was willing to answer questions about the attack or whether anyone else was involved. Police evidence includes the attached video footage from the police helicopter and clips from several CCTV cameras situated in surrounding streets. Forensic examination is expected to confirm traces of petrol from swabs of the suspects' skin as well as samples taken from their clothing. Fragments of glass are being studied for possible fingerprints... Malloy clicked on the first attachment to view the film from the helicopter. He slowed the footage down and replayed it several times before pausing it on the frame that gave the best view of the two men on the roof of the Preston Building. Minimising the window, Malloy clicked on the first of the CCTV camera clips. Once again he played it a few times and then paused it on the best frame. "There's no doubt that these are the people from the roof," he thought to himself. The scarves were gone, but the clothing worn by both men as they passed the book store where the CCTV was mounted was the exact same as that worn by the men on the roof. Satisfied, Malloy almost closed the e-mail, but decided to be thorough and look at the second CCTV clip. In this clip, the two men were running towards the CCTV camera and Malloy saw them bump into someone – a woman. The man with the woman grabbed her to stop her from falling and then turned to shout at the two suspects. As the man turned, his face was now towards the camera and Malloy cursed aloud as he recognised him. "Shit! It's him, what the fuck is he doing there?" Grabbing the desk phone from its cradle, Malloy punched in a speed-dial number. "Jenkins? I want an immediate report on the movements of Tartan Terror for all of today. I also want an explanation of why I wasn't informed he was in London!" he barked. "I'll post the request immediately, Sir. It should be with you sometime this afternoon." "No, Jenkins. I want it within the next hour. Light a fire under somebody's arse if you have to!" "I'll see what I can do, Sir." Malloy slammed the phone down and sat staring at Donnie's image on the screen. "I don't believe in co-incidences. He's connected to these two somehow, I'm certain of it!" he thought. Jenkins rapidly typed in the urgent request for a sit-rep (situation report) on Tartan Terror onto the system. He selected the options tab and sent the message with the highest priority and typed a note indicating that the report was needed within the hour. As soon as Jenkins sent the message, his use of the name Tartan Terror triggered an alarm that Eric Black had set up for just this purpose. Eric wanted to know everything that MI5 did in relation to Donnie as soon as he possibly could. In his room at Ardbrecknish, Eric saw the little icon flashing that told him one of his triggers had been activated. When he clicked on it and saw that it was the one covering Donnie, he wasted no time in hacking into MI5's system to find out what new activity was taking place. Jenkins' covering note helpfully told him what was being requested. "Oh dear, what is Donnie up to today that has MI5 so excited?" he thought to himself. "Oh well, it doesn't look as if I'll have to wait long to find out – less than an hour if the spooks meet the deadline that's been set." Eric was impressed when the report appeared on the system less than thirty-five minutes later. He made a copy and opened it. 08:05 – exits apartment and mobile in VW Polo. Heading through Bridge-of-Allan towards Dunblane. Motorway M9 heading east. Exits M9, joins M80 heading towards Glasgow. Joins M8. Crosses Kingston Bridge still heading west. Crosses Erskine Bridge joins A82. Joins A85. Joins A819 09:26 – arrives Ardbrecknish site. Not under observation. 12:37 – leaves Ardbrecknish site. A82. M8 towards Glasgow. Joins A8 heading towards Edinburgh. Edinburgh bypass. South Bridge, North Bridge. 13:41 – arrives St Andrew's House. Enters St Andrews House, Regents Road, Edinburgh. Not under observation. 15:09 – exits St Andrew's House. North Bridge, South Bridge. Edinburgh bypass. Joins A8. Joins M9 heading west. Exits M9 at Dunblane. Through Bridge-of-Allan. 16:12 – arrives at apartment. Current location – apartment. Not under observation. "Nothing to get excited about in that. He visited the site this morning, looks like he had a meeting with the First Minister this afternoon and then he went home. What's got MI5 so excited?" Eric asked himself. When Eric closed the file, he saw that there was already another message on the system. His little icon was also flashing to alert him to that, and he clicked to close it down. He copied and then opened up the new message. Impossible! Look at this attachment. Tartan Terror was in London this afternoon. The two men he's with in this clip are the suspects in today's petrol bomb attacks. Who have you been following!? Verify he's at home! Malloy Eric clicked to open the attachment and a grainy clip of black and white footage began to play on his screen. He saw two men running towards the camera and then they bumped into a woman. The man with the woman steadied her and then turned to shout at the men. Eric blinked to make sure his eyes weren't seeing things. He quickly hit the pause button and then used his cursor to take the film back a few frames. He whistled. "So that's why they're excited. That definitely looks like Donnie, but how could he be in London and with the First Minister at the same time?" Eric thought to himself. "Who are the two jokers that Malloy thinks Donnie was with?" It didn't take Eric long to find the names Asif Belaj and Yakub Dossei. That in turn led him to Imam Ali Assam. There was a huge amount of data held on the Imam and Eric began to stream it onto an external hard drive. When the transfer was still running after forty minutes, he began to worry about leaving a trail. Thankfully the routine was finished six minutes later and he quickly logged-off of the MI5 system. "I'll set the sniffer routine working on the Australian drivers agency to find some more targets for the clan gathering mailshot, then I'll have a look at what MI5 have on Imam Assam!" ------- Lizzie Grieg couldn't stop thinking about the guy who had almost certainly saved her life. She had felt an incredible sense of belonging whilst wrapped up in his strong arms. Lizzie felt cheated that her saviour had disappeared so quickly and she was now wondering if there was a way of finding him again. "His accent was Scottish," she decided. "His name sounded Scottish too – Donnie McGregor." She opened up the Google search page and typed the name in. Lizzie browsed through a number of the hits, but not surprisingly, she didn't find the man she was looking for. ------- Katie now openly shared Donnie's room so that Vivien could have her own space and for the most part, Vivien liked that. She was in her room now, listening to music. With her standard grade exams finished, school work was relatively light for the last few weeks of the term. For once Vivien wasn't thinking about homework. She wasn't even thinking about engines or pistons or drive shafts. "The goddess told me that I would become the wife of both Donnie and Katie, but neither of them so much as looks at me that way. I haven't sensed my 'gift' getting any stronger either. I guess I'll bide my time until after the wedding and then get a little more obvious about what I want." ------- Chapter 24 Donnie stopped peeling the potatoes and went to answer the doorbell. Katie had got him into the habit of checking through the 'spy-hole' before opening the door and he did so now. He saw a man and a woman, both wearing caps with Scottish Natural Heritage on them. Donnie thought they looked harmless enough and he opened the apartment door. "Good evening, Sir. We're sorry to bother you, but could you perhaps spare us a few minutes to talk about a petition we're sponsoring?" the woman said. As a rule, Donnie didn't like 'cold callers' and would normally decline and politely close the door. The name of the organisation these two were from made him more sympathetic this time, however, and he decided to hear them out. "We're asking people to sign our petition to call for development of the site of the battle of Bannockburn," the man explained. "You can also make a donation to our campaign fund in return for one of our caps," the woman added hopefully. "Sure," said Donnie. "Where do I sign?" He fished in his pocket and drew out a £10 note, which he folded and slipped through the slot on the collecting tin the woman held out. "Thank you, try this one for size," said the woman, handing Donnie a cap similar to the one she was wearing. Donnie tried the cap on, but it was obviously too small. "Oops, sorry," she said, taking it back and handing over an alternative that she pulled from a bag. "Just sign in the next available box," the man said, handing over a clipboard and a pen. Donnie took the cap and then the clipboard. He signed his name on the sheet and handed the clipboard back. As the man took the clipboard, he subtly angled it and Donnie felt a slight scratch from the wire clip. "You'll have to watch that," he said. "The clip is sticking up." "Sorry about that," the man apologised. The couple thanked him for his support and turned to go. Donnie closed the door and went back to preparing a meal for himself, Katie and Vivien. ------- The couple hurried to a car that was parked close by. The woman placed the 'too small' cap that Donnie had tried on inside an evidence bag. The man carefully removed the clip that had scratched Donnie's hand and did the same. "No doubt in my mind that he's the right man," the man said. "I agree and we should be able to get a DNA profile off of the cap or the clip, which should help avoid doubt in the future," said the woman. ------- Malloy reviewed the latest reports. His people in Scotland had reported they had close quarters visual confirmation that Tartan Terror was the man in the apartment in Bridge-of-Allan. He noted the DNA samples that might be useful in the future. Other sources within the civil service had confirmed that Donnie McGregor had been present throughout the First Minister's briefing at the time the CCTV had him in London. "What the hell am I dealing with here?" Malloy asked himself. "He can't possibly be in two places at once and I know he doesn't have a twin, but who can the guy on the CCTV be then? I do not believe in co-incidences, but what can I do? McGregor has over a dozen witnesses, including the First Minister, that prove he was in Edinburgh. I can't have him arrested again without stronger evidence. If I could just get someone undercover on that site!" Malloy typed up another message and hit the send button. ------- A series of phone calls ended with Donnie agreeing to meet Archie, Eric and Louise at Ardbrecknish the following morning. The meeting took place in Eric's apartment, more specifically in the room where Eric had all his kit set up. Archie began with his confession. "I have a confession and an apology to make," he said. Donnie chuckled. "Lighten up, Archie. It can't be that bad," he admonished. "No, this is serious, Donnie. You know that I was never happy about the tip-off the police received about you? The job I mentioned that I had Eric and Louise working on started out as being a follow-up on that. I'm afraid what they've found makes things a bit more ... shall we say ... complicated?" "You're talking in riddles, Archie. Just spell out what it is that they've found," said Donnie. "That's where the apology comes in," continued Archie. "It seems that MI5 tailed me after my first meeting with them at the Govan police station. That led them to you. They linked my tip-offs about the planned terrorist attacks on Grangemouth and Sizewell to you and then linked that to all the money you suddenly had." "How do you know all this?" Donnie asked. "The wizard over there has hacked into MI5's systems," Archie explained. Donnie looked at Eric. "Should we really be doing that?" he asked. "Look, you hired us to keep you and the others around you safe," Archie argued. "If that involves a wee bit of hacking, then so be it. Anyway, what we've found is that you are under surveillance. You are being followed and they are listening-in to all of your phone calls." "I think you're being a little overdramatic," Donnie laughed. "Show him," Archie ordered. Eric spun to his screen and his fingers danced across his keyboard. "Did you have a couple of visitors last night?" Archie asked Donnie. Donnie wondered where Archie was going with this and he peered over Eric's shoulder to see what was on the screen Close quarters visual confirmation that subject is in the apartment in Bridge-of-Allan. Samples taken for DNA profiling for future identification purposes. Donnie remembered the couple from Scottish Natural Heritage and the petition. He remembered the cap and the scratch and equated them with the reference to DNA profiling. Sudden realisation dawned that what Archie was telling him was true – he was under observation by MI5. "What else have you found out?" Donnie asked. "They got a little excited yesterday because of this," said Eric. He clicked and the CCTV footage of the two terrorists bumping into the woman played. Eric paused the clip on the frame that showed Donnie's face as he shouted at the men. "If I had to guess, I'd say you were using your Mojo again yesterday," said Archie. "That has really confused them, as their observation has you down as being in a meeting with the First Minister in Edinburgh, while this CCTV footage has you in London." "The goddess transported me to save the girl in that clip," admitted Donnie. "Well why didn't she think about avoiding CCTV cameras?" Archie demanded. "Archie, the goddess never explains why I'm asked to do anything. I'm almost positive that she has ulterior motives behind every service she asks me to perform," Donnie replied. "Maybe that's it?" Eric exclaimed. "What?" asked Louise. "You asked before why Donnie's goddess hadn't just warned him that MI5 was sniffing around," Eric jabbed his finger in Louise's direction. "Archie has just asked why the goddess didn't consider the CCTV cameras. Maybe she did? Maybe she wants MI5 to be looking at Donnie for some reason," he declared. "That's just plain stupid," Louise countered. "Why deliberately let them see Donnie in two places at once?" "Because they can't do anything about it," Eric argued. "What it did give rise to though was a flurry of activity on their systems that led me to some interesting material on other terror suspects. Maybe that's it, maybe it's reverse logic. The goddess wanted MI5 interested in Donnie, so that we would get interested in them! This compound we're building has got to have a purpose. I don't know what it is yet, but maybe part of it is that the goddess needs us to get information from MI5." "You mean that Donnie's goddess went to all this trouble – giving him the information about two terror plots, having me give MI5 the tip-offs, me being followed back to Donnie, MI5 asking the police to look at his bank accounts – all of that so that we would start looking at their system?" asked Archie. "Hey! It's only a theory," said Eric defensively. "Can you come up with anything better? Why would a goddess make such rudimentary mistakes?" "Eric has worked it out, Dòmhnall. I did want you to see close up the ruthless and fanatical nature of the people you are dealing with, but the more important, longer-term, objective was the link into the MI5 system. You will get important intelligence from the MI5 systems over the next year. It may make a difference and it may not. Events are starting to reach the point where even I will not be able to influence them." Donnie gulped. How bad were things going to get if the goddess wouldn't be able to influence them? "I like Eric's theory," he said aloud. "What 'interesting material' have you found then?" "Well, I haven't worked my way through it all yet – there's hundreds of the stuff – but the two petrol bombers led me to a guy called Imam Ali Assam. He looks like a real whacko with links going all over the country, including cells that seem to have been making their way to Scotland in the past six months," Eric explained. Donnie remembered the item in the FM briefing that covered the migration of Muslims from England into Scotland and guessed that was linked to what Eric had found. "Okay, see what else you can find," said Donnie. "Archie, it seems that there's no need to apologise after all. No harm, no foul as they say. Let's just make the most of the situation." It was clear from his expression that Archie remained to be convinced about Eric's theory, but he accepted Donnie's absolution and vowed to himself to keep an even closer watch on what Malloy was up to. "Eric, how are you getting on with the other thing, the clan gathering?" Donnie changed the subject. "I'm glad you asked about that," Eric replied. Archie and Louise decided they didn't need to hear that conversation and they left the room to deal with other things. Donnie took a seat alongside the computer geek. "I've got everything ready to go," Eric explained. "The mailing list runs to over ten thousand names in the UK, US, Australia, Canada, New Zealand and South Africa. I thought that those countries would be where the main Scottish Diaspora would be concentrated. I've hacked names from tax systems, student listings, drivers licensing, even armed forces databases." "Ten thousand!" Donnie exclaimed. "That's too many, we'd be swamped!" "Donnie, think about it," Eric explained patiently. "We're already in June. The date for the gathering is only five weeks away. How many of this ten thousand have already made holiday plans? How many will be able to come to Scotland at such short notice? I reckon we'll be lucky to get one in twenty." Donnie could see the sense in that and he calmed down a little. "Don't forget that this was the goddess' idea," he warned. "I agree with your logic, but you might be underestimating things." Eric shrugged, still confident in his thinking. "Here's the 'flyer' I'm going to e-mail out. What do you think?" Eric asked, bringing up a colourful graphic. Donnie liked the visual impact. "It's really good. Could you just add something in on the programme?" he asked. ------- Once Donnie was finished with Eric he went looking for Professor Bill White and Heather to find out how things were progressing with the construction of the recycling plant. He found them at the base of silo #8, the sound of Bill's angry voice pinpointing his location. "No, no, NO!" shouted the Professor. "What's the problem, Bill?" Donnie asked. The Professor whirled round and Donnie flinched when he saw the red, angry, face. "This simply isn't good enough, Donnie!" Bill growled. Donnie surveyed the skeleton of what would eventually become the core of the 'plant'. Progress seemed to be well behind what he had expected and Donnie guessed that could be part of why Bill was angry. "The tolerance levels on this pre-fabricated steel are just not good enough!" Bill complained. "This will be the fourth delivery that's basically useless!" Donnie knew a little about the level of precision that the Professor was working to, but he couldn't understand why the orders didn't measure up. "Who's responsible for the contract for the steel?" Donnie asked. "I am," said a suddenly sheepish Bill. Donnie scratched his head and looked at Heather who was trying to hide a grin. "Err, so what seems to be the problem?" Donnie asked. "I keep trying to tell him that he went with the wrong company for this contract," Heather managed to get out without laughing. "He went with the lowest quote. I think he was worried about spending your money!" A quick look at the Professor's expression told Donnie that Heather was spot on with her assessment of what was wrong here. "Is that right?" he asked. Bill tried to defend himself. "But the difference in the quotes was huge!" he argued. "Heather wanted to go for one that would have cost £2.5 million more. That's a lot of money!" Donnie realised that Bill was too used to working in the university research programme where every penny spent would be scrutinised by committees and sponsors. "Bill, I gave you a budget for building this, why aren't you using it?" Donnie asked. If this plant is delayed by a year due to problems with the steel, how much will we lose in terms of the amount that could be recycled?" The Professor had gone from anger to being on the defensive very quickly, but that wasn't what Donnie was looking for. "Professor, I really appreciate you worrying about costs, but I can assure you that I would prefer to have the plant up and running as quickly as possible. I should have made that clearer, it's my fault," Donnie suggested, giving the Professor an out. Bill recognised exactly what Donnie was doing and appreciated it. "So you would be okay with me sacking this lot and going with the other company?" he asked. "Absolutely," said Donnie. "Thank you," said a much happier looking Professor. Bill White wandered off to consider his next moves. "Can I talk to you about something Epona has asked me to look at?" Heather asked Donnie. At the mention of Heather's goddess, Donnie's ears pricked up. "Sure," he said. "What are you working on?" "It's nature related, much as you would expect," said Heather. "The goddess pointed me at the natural production of ammonium and nitrates by lightning and how that falls in rain to help plant growth. She also pointed me in the direction of plant decay as a source of usable nitrogen. She wants me to find you a natural source of fertiliser to help growth here at in the silos." Donnie liked the sound of that. "So how can I help?" he asked. "Can you use your tree energy to re-produce lightning?" Heather asked. "Let me think about that," Donnie replied. ------- Lizzie re-read her final thesis once again. The thing had already been submitted, so she couldn't change anything about it now, but she still felt it was a good piece of work. The psychology of war covered a range of conflicts including WWII, Vietnam and the 'cold war'. "No point in worrying about it now, I'll know whether it's good enough when my results arrive. My tutor seemed happy with it though." Closing the thesis, Lizzie decided to check her mail. When she opened her in-box, one e-mail immediately grabbed her attention, as it shouldn't have been there, "What's wrong with my spam-guard? How has that managed to get through?" She almost deleted the offending e-mail, but the subject title grabbed her attention because of the name. The McGregors are gathering! Lizzie couldn't know that Eric Black's wizardry had ensured the mailshot bypassed all spam-guards. She was one of the names that Eric had hacked from the membership database of the National Union of Students (NUS). She clicked to open the e-mail and was presented with Eric's colourful invitation to the clan gathering. The first thing that struck Lizzie was the smiling face of her saviour. There he was, his blue-grey eyes staring at her. "Oh my god! It's him! It's really him! How is that possible?" She began to read the 'flyer' to try and figure out how she could find him again. "You have to be joking!" she thought as she absorbed the text. ... join your clan in the first traditional gathering in over twenty years. Spend three days in the heart of McGregor country, soaking up the long history of your ancestors. Visit the ancient cradle of the McGregors and re-connect with your roots – feel the passion of children of the mist! On the banks of Loch Awe, immerse yourself in a programme of renewing the strength of the McGregor name. Be a guest at the marriage of tanist, Donnie McGregor, and then exercise your right to vote to either confirm his position or elect another to lead the clan. Lizzie shrieked aloud at the mention of Donnie's planned marriage. "NO! Say it's not true!" she cried. She forced herself to keep reading and as a result learned that her surname, Grieg, was one of the septs of the McGregor clan. If it hadn't been for the picture of Donnie, Lizzie would have disregarded the e-mail as a scam of some sort – a clever marketing tool perhaps to get people to pay for a three day break in the highlands. Reading further, she found that there was no charge for attending the gathering and her doubts about the legitimacy of the 'flyer' receded a little. There was even an opportunity for the first two hundred and fifty applicants to secure free accommodation – that sounded too good to be true she thought. "What do I do now? I've found my saviour and have a way of seeing him again, but now I know that he's going to marry someone else. What to do, what to do?" As a psychology major, Lizzie might have been expected to be able to remain rational and arrive at a sensible response, but her heart was beating rapidly and it was overruling her head. "I need to go. I don't have to do anything silly, just see him again and do a better job of thanking him for saving me. Maybe the marriage thing is all for show – maybe it's not a real marriage. I mean, come on, would you invite a bunch of strangers to your wedding? No, I need to see him. If there's any chance at all that I can be with him, then I need to take it." Before she could change her mind, Lizzie clicked on the hyperlink that took her to an application form. She filled in her details and clicked on the send button. "Oh Lordy, what am I doing? God, I've never felt so alive in my life. Why do I react so strongly to this guy?" ------- Donnie was glad that he had visited Ardbrecknish. Not only had he had the meeting with Archie, Eric and Louise, he had also smoothed things over with Professor White. His day was just about to get even more productive when his father found him as he left silo #8. "Donnie, I'm glad I caught you," said Douglas. "How was your move, dad? Have you settled in okay? What does mom think of the new house?" Donnie asked. "She likes all of the modern comforts just fine," Douglas replied. "The new house is much easier to keep warm than that draughty old farmhouse and that's the thing I wanted to speak to you about." Donnie could see that his father was itching to get something off of his chest. "You need to do something about the heat!" Douglas demanded. "Just turn the thermostat down, dad," Donnie advised. "No! Not in the house, in the silos!" said Douglas as if his concerns were obvious. "I think you need to explain, dad. I'm lost here." "You've had them drill to get heat from the Earth's core," Douglas explained. "But the heat from the growing lights is already too much. We need to find a way of taking the heat away, as it's leaving the grain too dry and it means we're using too much water. The humidity is awful down inside the silos!" Donnie thought about what his father was saying. An idea occurred to him and he shared it. "Can't we just bleed the heat up into the domes?" he asked. "That would cut the amount of energy we're using to keep the atmosphere required for the plants and trees we're growing there? We could even divert some of the heat to the living accommodation." "That could work," Douglas agreed. "How are you going to do that?" "I'm not, you are!" Donnie laughed, slapping his father on the back. ------- The police and the security services worried that the attack on the protest march would lead to another increase in violence between communities. The fact that two Pakistanis had been arrested for the attack could result in a further series of tit-for-tat incidents. Surprisingly it had the opposite effect, almost as if people paused to draw breath at the seriousness of the situation. A different problem arose for the police though. Incidents associated with the cost of food were increasing dramatically and with a foreboding escalation in the level of violence and indiscriminate nature of them. This wasn't organised crime, but rather desperate people trying to feed their families. There was a ram-raid on a supermarket in the northwest of England. Normally such crimes were about hardened criminals targeting the theft of alcohol or cigarettes, but in this instance the thieves stole food. When the police arrived on the scene, it was to find that hundreds of local residents were taking the opportunity to help themselves too. There were too many for the police to apprehend and most escaped with their arms full of food. When the crime was reported on national TV news, it quickly sparked a large number of copycat robberies. Food hauliers also found themselves in the firing line. The police began to record a series of 'hold-ups' where drivers were forced to stand by and see their cargoes looted. A recurring theme was attacks by crowds of people as a lorry tried to deliver to a major store. Farmers were reporting attacks on their livestock, with cattle and sheep being taken in remote fields. In Scotland, the prices at farmer's markets seemed to take some of the heat out of things and consumers in England were demanding that the Westminster Government step in and copy what the Scottish Government was doing. ------- "I think they both deserve some encouragement," said Epona. "I'm sure you know exactly how to keep their interest up. I'll leave this in your very capable hands. Just don't go too far, too fast and frighten them off," said Beira. "Vivien's already in love with the idea of being with them both, I think it would take quite a bit to frighten her off. Lizzie is a born romantic and has convinced herself that Donnie is the one for her. I'll need to expand her thinking a little though to start to get her mindset more into plurality and the possibilities that holds. Don't worry, I'll try and be subtle about it and achieve what we want, Beira." Lizzie tossed a little in her sleep... "Do you see him?" "What? Who are you?" asked Lizzie, surprised by the appearance of the younger girl. "I'm Vivien. I'm going to marry him and Katie." "Who is Katie?" Lizzie asked. "The one he's marrying silly!" Vivien giggled. "Is that her?" Lizzie asked, seeing the red-head throwing herself into her saviour's arms. "Yep, that's her," confirmed Vivien. "She's breathtakingly beautiful, isn't she?" Lizzie had never thought of girls in that way, but she admitted to herself that the red-head was extraordinarily attractive. "You want to be with him too, don't you?" Vivien asked. Lizzie didn't answer, but the intensity of her focus on Donnie told its own story. She watched as the couple kissed and she wished with all her heart that she could be in the red-head's shoes right at that moment. "You've been in his arms, you've got that look about you," Vivien purred, moving up behind Lizzie. Lizzie watched as Donnie began to strip Katie's clothes off. His head dipped and Lizzie felt her own nipples ache for the feel of his lips on them. Electricity shot through her nerve endings when she felt Vivien's slender fingers mould themselves to her breasts. She stiffened. "What are you doing?" she asked weakly. "You need to think about this," Vivien's voice caressed her cheek. "If you want him, it will need to include Katie and me. Can you accept that?" The fact that Lizzie was making no move to stop Vivien from massaging her breasts, from tweaking her already hard nipples, suggested that she was at least curious. Donnie's head travelled down Katie's body and Lizzie knew he was using his mouth and tongue on the other woman's pussy. Her own sex was flooding with lubrication as she imagined her saviour's tongue lapping up her juices. Vivien seemed to be able to read her thoughts and one of her hands dropped to cup Lizzie's sex. "We need to work together," Vivien whispered. "You and I will be wives too; we need to love them and each other." Lizzie could feel Vivien's gentle touch teasing at the lips of her sex. She felt her hips buck uncontrollably as Vivien let her fingers twirl over her clit and felt the younger girl's lips nuzzling the sensitive skin of her neck. Donnie mounted Katie and Lizzie gasped at the first sight of his rampant cock. The couple seemed to be as one as their coupling fell into what looked like a practised rhythm. Lizzie felt her own pussy long, ache, to feel his male hardness filling it. "Let me make it easier for you," Vivien purred. "There will be times when we are together that we will need to satisfy each other. Let this be the first time." Lizzie let the younger girl pull her from her feet until she was lying down with her legs bent and parted. She felt Vivien's fingers pushing insistently at her opening and then they slid inside, doing a little to satisfy the ache in her pussy. "This is what you need right now, but if we work together, we will both feel him fill us up," Vivien moaned. Lizzie felt the fingers inside her curl upwards to rub against her most sensitive spot, just behind her pubic bone. She moaned and bucked at the sensation, enjoying the sparks of pleasure that were flashing through her. When Vivien's lips and tongue found her aroused clit, it was more than she could take and she screamed out her orgasm. Lizzie woke and found her own fingers between her legs. The moisture and aftershocks left her in no doubt that she had just experienced an orgasm and she held the picture of the beautifully matched couple and the young girl in her mind. In her bedroom at the apartment in Bridge-of-Allan, Vivien also woke to find herself dripping. "Who was that? The goddess told me that there would be two other wives. Is she one of them?" ------- Chapter 25 The long-range weather forecasts proved to be accurate and the UK experienced another year of record rainfall through June and into July 2012. There was even the almost unique experience of snowfall in July. Farmers the length and breadth of the country wrung their hands and talked about a virtual wash-out for many crops. With substantial losses a certainty, the National Farmers' Union (NFU) was already calling for a substantial government subsidy. Given the remaining public sector deficit, that was unlikely, however. News reports made it clear that it wasn't just the UK that was suffering from climatic impact on agriculture. Shortages were being felt world-wide with either floods or droughts affecting many of the food producing nations. Food exports were diminishing rapidly as yields fell and countries were also less willing to sell food when their own populations were going short. One talking-head expert gave an analogy on a news station: ... it's like that. You know, whenever there's even a suspicion that there might be a shortage of something – fuel, bread, flour whatever – everyone rushes to buy some and they hoard it. So, what might have been a short-lived scarcity is made worse because more and more of that commodity is hidden away in cupboards rather than being in use as it normally would be. Countries are now doing the same thing. They are hoarding their grain and other goods because they are worried about running out. That means that the shortages are being made worse for all of us... In other news, the British National Party embarked on a thinly veiled campaign of racial hatred – sponsoring marches in many towns and cities in the north of England. Of most concern was the number of people that were attracted to these protests. It seemed that the series of planned terror attacks, followed by the petrol bombing of the London march, had been a huge recruitment boost for the BNP. Many 'normal' British citizens found themselves just sick and tired of the perceived threat to their way of life. Despite the poor weather, turnouts for the BNP protests were high. The police were hard pressed to keep order when angry Muslim communities tried to disrupt what they saw as an open challenge to them. With police budgets having been severely cut, commanders were short of manpower and that in turn meant that shortcuts had to be taken. The result was that, in a number of cities, the BNP supporters and the Muslim communities ended up coming together in what was in effect a pitched battle. The UK Government's response was to call in troops to restore order in those areas where the police had lost control. Donnie and his father watched the news reports showing troops on the streets of Leeds, Preston, Bradford and Manchester. "How can anyone back that party?" Douglas asked, a tinge of sadness in his voice. Donnie shook his head in dismay at what he was seeing and hearing. "As far as I can see, the BNP are still spouting the same fascist, racist hatred that the Nazi's spouted," he said. "How can people forget the sacrifices this country made to beat Hitler and his henchmen – the BNP are no better than they were, yet for some reason normally decent people are backing them!" "Is it just the anger?" Douglas asked. "What? You mean that the anger people are feeling about higher taxes, high unemployment, food inflation, high fuel costs, pay cuts..." Donnie catalogued. "Yes," Douglas finished for his son. "And shortages and power outages, not to mention the perception that all Muslims are somehow terrorists because of the high profile nature of what the radical fundamentalists have tried to do or succeeded in doing. The anger perhaps needs to be expressed somehow?" "But backing the BNP? I can understand that people are angry, but how does that equate to backing the BNP?" Donnie asked. "It's a national disgrace, an embarrassment. What do our friends and allies think when they see Britain supporting fascism?" "At least things haven't got that bad in Scotland yet," said Douglas. "The briefing the First Minister received this week suggests that more and more Muslims are trying to escape the violence by moving north into Scotland," Donnie informed his father. "I guess there are some attractive reasons to come here," Douglas nodded. "Somehow our government can still afford to fund free personal care for the elderly, free prescriptions and no fees for students. There's even the benefit of your idea to reduce the costs of meat for consumers through the farmers' markets." "Yes," agreed Donnie. "But remember, for every pound the Scottish Government spends on those things that they don't have in England, it means we've got to spend less on other areas. Health service budgets are really under pressure and you've seen the state of our infrastructure – the main highways are in an awful state because we aren't paying to maintain them." Douglas thumbed the remote control to switch the station away from the news. He found a live football game – a pre-season friendly tournament taking place in London – and left it on as background noise. "How are the plans coming along for the wedding and the 'gathering'?" he asked, trying to find a cheerier subject. "Ask mom and Katie about the wedding," Donnie replied. "I've been kept pretty much in the dark. Katie's told me that I just need to make sure I turn up!" Douglas laughed at his son's obvious discomfort. "You'd best get used to it son," he said. "Experience shows that the women-folk are always in control, even when they let us think that we are." Donnie shook his head. "I'm pleased at the way things are shaping up for the gathering," he said. "Eric looks to have been damned accurate with his prediction on how many people are going to turn up." "How many?" Douglas asked. "So far we have two hundred and ninety odd confirmed and another three hundred 'possibles'. Eric reckons we won't be far off five hundred." "That's still an incredible turnout at such short notice," Douglas noted. "It is," Donnie agreed. "I think we've put together a good programme for them over the three days. I'm hoping we can recruit quite a few to stay on." "You won't have much time for a honey-moon before the campaigning begins for the referendum," Douglas observed. Donnie's eyes lit up with excitement. The Scottish National Party, encouraged by their results in the last election, had decided to go ahead and hold a referendum on independence. This was the holy-grail for all SNP supporters, but they had never had the necessary votes in the Scottish Parliament to get a bill on a referendum through. Seeing their popularity plummet to an all-time low because of their role in the UK coalition, the Lib Dems had decided to back the referendum bill as a way of trying to improve their ratings in Scotland. That U-turn established a slight majority in the parliament and the SNP rushed emergency legislation through to set the stage for a referendum on independence. A date had been set in early September for the Scottish public to have their say at the ballot box and Donnie would be following the First Minister round the country, as he tried to convince the electorate that now was the time for Scotland to stand on her own two feet again. "I'm convinced we can persuade the voters this time," Donnie enthused. "There are just too many issues where Scotland is at odds with Westminster now and the public can see it. We've had more than ten years of the Scottish Parliament and people are getting more confident about our ability to manage things on our own. Let's face it; we can't do much worse than the last UK Government in terms of managing the economy!" "Don't be so sure," Douglas cautioned. "The Scottish banks were affected worst remember. Would Scotland have been able to raise the money to bail them out?" "I agree, dad. But the point is, would we have allowed the banks to get themselves into that much trouble in the first place? The Scottish model of banking has traditionally been much more conservative and with tighter regulation, who is to say that we wouldn't have avoided the worst? Look at systems like they have in Canada – banks are only allowed to have a certain percentage of their business in risky sectors like investment banking. "This whole world-wide slump has been caused by a lack of regulation – banks lending 125 percent mortgages, unsecured loans, property prices being pushed up to unsustainable levels. I would argue that, as a nation, we Scots are more naturally prudent when it comes to money." Douglas nodded to show that he agreed with much of his son's argument. "Anyway, things are going well here at Ardbrecknish," Douglas changed the subject again. "The last building work should be completed before the winter. The changes I've made have dealt with the heating issues and I'm even thinking I might be able to produce three crops a year for you." "Three?" asked a surprised Donnie. "How can you manage that?" "Heather's new fertiliser will help, but mainly I think you forgot to factor in the control that we have over the conditions. We can simply have 'longer days' with every one a 'sunny day' and that means the cycle from planting to harvest can be shorter," Douglas explained. "Maybe we should be thinking about the crops we are growing," Donnie mused. "The news is suggesting that we're going to face shortages of quite a few different things. What do you think? Should we try and diversify so we have a broader range of produce?" Douglas smiled. He had been thinking of suggesting that very approach to his son. "I've been thinking the same," he laughed. "Why go short on something when we can simply grow it for ourselves. I'd go even further though. Those news reports also suggest that the price of things is going to keep going up and there will be problems caused by other things – look at the increase in attacks on food facilities." "What are you suggesting?" Donnie asked. "Well ... milk production for one," Douglas replied. "You might also want to think about milling some grain to produce our own flour. Canning, bottling, freeze-drying and other preserving capacity might also be a good idea. You also need to speak to Archie about security. If things continue on the way they are going, Ardbrecknish might become a target for some folk!" Donnie could see that his father had been thinking hard about things. "You're right," he said, recognising his father's wisdom. "If we want to be really self-sufficient, we need to build the capacity you've described. We'll also need more people and I take your point about security. I'll speak to Archie about it." ------- Incredibly the forecast for the three day clan gathering was for brilliant July sunshine, a marked contrast to what the UK had experienced over the summer so far. Donnie stood on the large, front balcony of the house that had been purpose-built for him and his future family. The view was across Loch Awe towards Ben Cruachan and he soaked it up as he sipped a coffee. Rory was sitting by his right leg and the Collie looked for all the world as if he was enjoying the view too. Donnie bent to scratch behind Rory's ears. "Only two more days of freedom, my friend," Donnie mused. Rory responded with a single 'woof', as if he knew that Donnie's comment was in jest. "I think you're looking forward to this," Donnie laughed. Straightening, Donnie walked through the huge lounge to the rear balcony and looked out across what was now a mass of gleaming domes. Rory trotted along beside him and sat down again when Donnie stopped. "We have built something quite unique here, Rory," said Donnie. "I think our visitors are going to be impressed with it all." Rory didn't comment. In the nearest of the domes Donnie could make out the tropical forest that he had had shipped to Ardbrecknish. It would be a number of years before it matured fully, but it was still impressive. Donnie couldn't help but feel a certain pride at his achievements. Shaking himself, he decided it was time to get on with the day. "Come on, boy. Let's go see Eric and check that everything is on track," he said. Donnie found the 'geek' where he always found him, ensconced in his techno room surrounded by his kit. "How are we looking?" Donnie asked. "Looking good," Eric answered. "That girl of yours is a force of nature when she gets the bit between her teeth! Your mother is no slouch either!" "Awww, have they been working you hard?" Donnie chuckled. "No, not at all," Eric countered. "I like people who have well-ordered minds. Your mom and Katie are like a slick machine together. Cleaners, caterers, transport, flowers, arrangements for the programme – you name it, those women have thought of everything. All I've had to do is a little bit of on-line ordering." "What's the final figure?" Donnie asked. "If they all show up, we'll have just short of the five hundred I predicted," Eric answered. "There are a few we will need to keep an eye on though." "What do you mean?" Donnie asked. "Well, my snooping on MI5's systems has confirmed that Malloy knows about this gig and he's ordered some of his people to apply to come," Eric explained. "There have been over twenty applications from people that weren't included in my mailshot. Some of them might be genuine, but I'm betting some of them are his stooges." "Make sure everybody on security and those close to me have a list of those names," Donnie ordered. "Will do," Eric agreed. "I made sure that none of them were included in the first batch that will have accommodation here at Ardbrecknish. Only the first two hundred applicants got that, the rest have had to book hotels for themselves. I just played safe and made sure the twenty didn't get on-site accommodation." "Good, no point in making things easy for Malloy," Donnie laughed. ------- Lizzie landed at the airport and collected her bags. There was a uniformed man holding up a sign at baggage reclaim which read: McGregor She guessed that he had something to do with the gathering, as her joining instructions had intimated that she would be collected at the airport. "Hi," she said. "Are you collecting people for the clan gathering?" "Yes, Miss. If you just wait over there, I'll help you with your luggage once I've collected the others. Can I have your name so that I can cross you off of my list?" he asked. "Lizzie Grieg," she told him. It took half an hour to gather people who had arrived on different flights and then the uniformed man led them out to a coach. Luggage was stowed in a compartment under the bed of the coach and then Lizzie joined around twenty others in boarding the coach for the journey to Ardbrecknish. She heard a variety of accents and assumed that the timing of their arrival meant that they had caught connections from London after flying in from further afield. A woman in uniform at the front of the coach began to give a commentary on the countryside they were passing through and filled them in on what to expect when they arrived at Ardbrecknish. "This is all put together very professionally," Lizzie thought. Within minutes of leaving Glasgow Airport they were driving along the shores of Loch Lomond, heading northwards, and the guide pointed out Ben Lomond in the distance. Lizzie's sense of anticipation grew the closer they got to Ardbrecknish. The coach left the A82 and began travelling along the A85. The guide now started waxing lyrical about landmarks. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are now coming into the heart of McGregor country! Now on your left is the River Orchy and Glen Orchy, traditional stronghold of the Clan before it was taken from them by the Campbells. "To the front now you can see the head of Loch Awe. The river running into the Loch is the River Strae, which itself runs through Glen Strae, another famous location in the history of the children of the mist." The coach turned onto the A819 and ran along the shores of Loch Awe. "And now we are close to our final destination, Ardbrecknish, home of the tanist Donnie McGregor and venue for the clan gathering over the next three days. You have all had your accommodation allocation and there will be guides when you leave the coach to help ensure you find your way without any delay. Ladies and gentlemen, can I bid you welcome to the gathering and wish you a very pleasant stay." Just as the guide finished her welcome, the coach swept round a bend in the road and the Ardbrecknish site came into view. Many on the coach gasped at the futuristic design of the domes glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Lizzie's head was swimming as she tried to take it all in. She would have one night to get settled before the three day programme began and as yet she had no plan for what she intended to do. Getting off the coach, she waited to retrieve her luggage and then looked around for the guides that had been promised. "I knew it!" shrieked a voice to her left and she turned to see what was going on. Vivien ran up to Lizzie and threw herself forward. Lizzie found her arms full of the young girl and she dropped her luggage to try and steady herself. "I just knew that you would be one of the ones to come!" squealed Vivien, her excitement bubbling over. "Are you real?" Lizzie stammered, shocked at recognising the girl from her steamy dream. "Of course I'm real!" Vivien laughed. "You and I have plans that we need to hatch. Where's your accommodation?" Lizzie was relieved that Vivien actually loosened her hug and that allowed her to fish out the document that indicated where she was supposed to be staying. "I'm in block 2," Lizzie said. "I'm sharing with two other women." "Yes, we wanted to give as many people as possible accommodation on site, that's why you're sharing," Vivien explained. "Come on, I'll show you where it is." Lizzie followed the little bundle of energy, still trying to come to terms with meeting someone that she had thought of as part of a fantasy. Vivien kept up a running commentary of everything they saw on their way to accommodation block 2. "That silo has a huge grove of citrus trees on the surface, growing under the dome, underground is all wheat I think. That silo is where Professor White is building his super new recycling plant." "STOP!" shrieked Lizzie. "Can you just tell me what the hell is going on? How can you be here? How do you know me?" "Oh, I'm sorry," Vivien apologised. "I thought you must have shared the same dream as me." Lizzie saw that Vivien looked genuinely confused and upset. She heard herself trying to reassure the girl. "I think I did share the dream. That's what is freaking me out," she said. "How is that possible?" "You don't serve one of the goddesses, do you?" Vivien asked rhetorically. "Goddesses?" asked Lizzie in disbelief. "Look, let's drop your luggage off at your accommodation and then we'll find somewhere to talk. I promise that I'll explain everything." Lizzie was impressed by the high specification of the apartment she had been allocated to, but she was more interested in hearing Vivien's explanation so decided to leave any exploration until later. They found a quiet spot down by the loch-side and made themselves comfortable. "Okay, let's start with the basics," Vivien suggested. "My name is Vivien. I first met Donnie when my goddess sent me to help some people who had been injured in a plane crash." Lizzie introduced herself, but then remained quiet and let the younger girl weave a story that defied belief. She heard about Sironaidh and Beira. Vivien told her about Donnie's 'gifts' and the plans for the site they were on. "Anyway, Sironaidh told me that my gift of healing would grow stronger and that I would marry Donnie and Katie," Vivien continued. "She said that I would be the first of three that would join, so when we shared our dream, I assumed that you were one of the others." Lizzie tried to take it all in. "Are you saying that Donnie was sent to save me by a goddess?" she asked. "That's just unbelievable!" "Lizzie, I've heard the others talking," said Vivien. "On the afternoon that Donnie saved you, he was in a meeting with Scotland's First Minister in Edinburgh." "That's impossible!" Katie replied. "It's true," maintained Vivien. "How else can you explain our dream?" Lizzie was stumped by that. "Besides, why else would you be here?" Vivien continued to press. "I came just so I could thank him properly," Lizzie claimed weakly. Vivien snorted. "We both know how you want to thank him," she said. "That's what the dream was all about, you don't fool me!" Lizzie blushed, but didn't deny what Vivien was suggesting. "But he's about to get married!" she groaned. "Lizzie, you've not been listening to me," Vivien exclaimed. "The goddess has told me that Donnie and Katie will have three more wives. Don't you get it? The goddess will make this happen!" "I need to think about all this," Lizzie suggested. "No, what you need is to see Donnie again to remind you of what's at stake here," Vivien urged. Lizzie felt her pulse quicken at the suggestion. "Could I?" she asked, visibly excited. "Of course, I'm sure Donnie will be glad to see you, he's like that." They found Donnie greeting yet another coach load of people arriving for the event. Vivien held Lizzie back until the people from this latest coach had moved off to find their accommodation and then she dragged her forward. Donnie saw them coming and he recognised Lizzie immediately, his eyes lighting up in pleasure. "Lizzie? Lizzie Grieg?" he asked. Lizzie felt her insides turn to mush at seeing him in the flesh again. She felt herself growing faint and then everything went black. When she recovered a few moments later, she felt Donnie's strong arms around her, holding her up. It felt as good as she remembered it from the afternoon in London. "Are you feeling okay?" a worried Donnie asked. "She's much better than okay now that you're holding her again," Vivien giggled. Donnie frowned at her. "Vivien, don't tease our guests," he cautioned. "Tease? You have got to be joking!" Vivien snorted. "Let me look after her for now, you are obviously too much for her. I'm warning you, Donnie. You need to open your eyes soon or there's going to be trouble!" Donnie watched Vivien lead Lizzie away and wondered what that was all about? ------- Day one of the gathering started off relatively relaxed with sessions on the history of the McGregors and the various septs that made up the clan. That was followed by some games to test the strength of those willing to enter – with tossing the caber, hammer throwing and even wrestling. There were various other attractions for those not taking part in the more strenuous activities. There were tours of Glen Strae, Glen Orchy and Kilchurn Castle on Loch Awe. There were shooting galleries set up using BB guns where you could try your luck at 'shooting the head off of a Campbell' and there were food kiosks all over the site. Day two started with a mass orienteering event through the forests around Loch Awe. This had been designed to pass many places of interest for clan McGregor, including several caves reputed to have been used by the children of the mist when they had been outlawed. Donnie was driving from check-point to check-point encouraging people along the way. It was fairly relaxed, which meant that children were able to take part. Stopping at one particular point, Donnie saw Rory standing beside the station where people stamped their route maps to show they had completed the course. The station was at a fork in the path through the woods. As he watched, Donnie saw Rory gently shepherding different competitors onto different paths. The Collie was playful, but insistent, in directing each separate arrival at the station. "What the heck is that all about?" Donnie asked himself. Donnie couldn't figure out what Rory was doing and he had other things to think about – the high-point of day two was his wedding and he knew that he had to get back and start to get himself prepared for that. Archie had agreed to be Donnie's best man and he met him at the house Donnie's parents had been allocated. "You're going to love this!" Archie grinned. "Wait 'til you see what they've got for us to wear. We'll look like a couple of toffs!" Archie led the way inside and pointed to the ensembles that were hanging up in one of the bedrooms. "What do you think?" he asked. Donnie crossed the room to examine the tailored suits and blindingly white shirts. They were classic morning suits, highly creditable and tried and trusted. He turned and smiled at Archie. "They look fine, but where's my dad?" Donnie asked. "I saw him downstairs when we came in," Archie responded. "DAD? DAD? Where are you?" Donnie shouted. "I'm right here," said Douglas. "I was just getting these for you." Douglas had two outfits in his arms – two highland outfits. These were not mere feileadh beag ('little wrap' or kilt), however, but rather full belted plaids. There were white shirts to wear under the plaids, thick white socks and leather brogues. The outfits were finished off by the traditional sgian-dubh (black knife) that would be worn tucked into the sock. "I hope you got my size right," said Archie, eyeing the McGregor tartan somewhat warily. "It's a plaid, Archie. One size fits all!" Donnie laughed. "It's just like the song we sang as kids," Archie suggested. "Eh?" said Donnie, confused. "You know, Donnie where's your trousers? - the girls used to sing it whenever they saw someone wearing a kilt," Archie explained. "I don't think I've heard that one," said Donnie. "Come on, we'd better get changed or we're going to be late." Archie needed some help to get the plaid on correctly, but eventually they both stood like two proud highlanders. Douglas produced two sprigs of white heather and they fastened them on the plaids with pins. "Okay. Are you ready for this?" Archie asked. Donnie had established a link to his gifts and as a result wasn't even slightly nervous. "Lead on MacDuff!" he replied. ------- Katie was still fretting over the suits she had chosen for Donnie and Archie. Something just didn't seem right about them now, but she knew it was too late to do anything about it. Her mother and sister had arrived at Ardbrecknish the day before, her sister filling the spot of bridesmaid. Now Rose was helping them both put the finishing touches to their outfits. "You look absolutely stunning, my dear," Rose told her, a tear gathering in her eye. Katie's dress was made from white silk taffeta which had pearls sewn into it. The design cinched tightly at the waist to emphasise her figure and the portrait neckline and hem were decorated with fine lace. The floor-length skirt of the dress was formed from no less than six layers to give it 'body' and the outfit was finished off with full length white silk gloves and a gauzy veil. Jennifer's bridesmaid outfit was of pale blue, a suitable contrast that didn't try and compete with the bride in any way. "Are you sure I look okay?" Katie fretted. "No bride has ever looked sweeter," Rose reassured her. "Come on, we shouldn't keep Donnie waiting too long." ------- The inside of one of the domes had been kept unplanted for just this occasion. A full acre of manicured lawn was now split into two areas. One end held benches for the guests, an organ and of course an altar at which the ceremony would take place. Red carpet was laid through the middle of the sets of benches to create an aisle and there was also a strip of red carpet in front of the altar. The other end of the dome was laid out with tables set for the wedding meal and wooden flooring had been laid to form an area for dancing. Several makeshift bars had also been installed and it looked as if they were well stocked. Donnie and Archie stood with the Minister by the altar, waiting for the bride to arrive. Archie was the nervous one and the Minister thought that was somehow funny. "Have I got this right?" he asked Donnie. "It is you that's the one getting married? Only, he seems to be the one suffering with nerves." "I think it's just because this is the first time he's gone out in public without underwear," Donnie laughed. The Minister smiled at Donnie's reference to the tradition of wearing nothing below the kilt or in this case, the plaid. At that moment the organ began playing to signify the arrival of the bride. The Minister took his place and positioned Donnie and Archie where he wanted them. Donnie and Archie had their backs to the aisle and Donnie forced himself not to look over his shoulder as the wedding march played. It seemed a long time before Katie arrived by Donnie's side, but the wait was worth it when he was at last able to look at her flaming red hair beneath the delicate veil. "I love you," Donnie mouthed, as he gently lifted the veil from Katie's face. Katie was struggling to keep the smile from her face when she saw what he was wearing. "That's perfect, I'm glad he thought of it," she thought to herself. The exchange of vows passed in something of a blur for Donnie, but eventually the Minister proclaimed them man and wife and finished with those well-known words. "You may now kiss the bride." Donnie gently pulled Katie towards him and they shared a soft kiss to loud applause and several hoots from the guests. Mairi McGregor smiled proudly at her son from the front row of benches and Douglas, sitting beside her, nodded encouragement to Donnie as the bride and groom walked arm in arm back down the aisle. It took some time to get everyone seated for the meal, but at last it was time for the traditional toasts. After that an army of serving staff delivered meals and kept drinks topped up. Donnie and Katie led the first waltz and their love for each other was a tangible thing for anyone looking at them. Vivien and Lizzie kept their distance, knowing this was not the time to intrude. Before the night grew too riotous, the newly-weds slipped away and headed for their new home. Donnie swept Katie off of her feet and carried her over the threshold. "Welcome home, Mrs McGregor," he said. "Why thank you, husband, " she replied, emphasising her first use of that word. Donnie carried Katie easily upstairs to the master bedroom and then set her down so she could remove her stunning gown. He was surprised, however, by Katie's request. "I want you to take me while I'm wearing the dress," she demanded. "I've been unable to think about anything else since you told me you loved me at the altar. Take me, husband. Fuck me in my wedding gown!" Donnie liked that idea and he pushed her back until she was lying on the bed. Katie sensed him trying to avoid damaging her gown and she urged him to forget that. "Don't worry about the dress!" she cried. "In ten, twenty years time, I want to be able to look at this thing and remember how you took me while I was wearing it. I want to remember how you took me and made me all yours!" Donnie pulled the skirts up to reveal white stockings, suspenders and white silk panties. Katie's demands had by now further inflamed his own advanced state of arousal and he shredded her panties with a jerk. Katie gasped at that and bit down on her lip in anticipation. Donnie dropped to his knees and began licking Katie's sex, lapping the copious amounts of juice as fast as he could. "Fuck me, baby! Fuck your bride!" Katie groaned. Pulling up the front of his plaid, Donnie confirmed what Katie had suspected since she saw him standing waiting for her at the altar – no underwear! His hard cock was ready for use and Katie moaned as she felt herself being filled with the hot flesh. "Yes, yes! Uuuuuggghhhhh, yes, baby. Fuck me!" Donnie wasn't holding back. It was almost as if he was marking her as his, spearing her very centre for all he was worth. "More, harder, faster, more!" Katie urged. "Fuck your little bride; fuck her in her wedding gown! Aaahhhhhhh, aaaaahhhh!" Katie hadn't lasted long, her fertile imagination having kept her on the edge throughout the day. Donnie managed to free her titties, pulling down on the neck of the gown and she felt him biting hard on her nipples. That was all the added stimulus Katie needed and she bucked up to meet Donnie's thrusts. "Yeeesssss, yeeessssss, aaaaaahhhhhhh!" she wailed, as her climax swamped her senses. Donnie wasn't finished with her though. Pulling his cock out completely, he flipped Katie over and began ramming into her from the rear. Katie felt his teeth sinking in to the sensitive flesh on the back of her neck and not for the first time she had the image of being bred by her stallion. A second orgasm seized her and that was immediately multiplied when she felt Donnie stiffen and begin to fire his hot essence over and over deep within her. "Yeeessssssssss!" she screamed, as Donnie's weight collapsed onto her back. Still panting from the effort, both of them rolled until they could hold one another. "Thank you," she whispered. "That was just how I've been imagining it would be all day." "If this is what it does to you, could you wear that dress every day?" Donnie gasped. ------- Day three, the final day of the gathering, started late to give everyone the chance to sleep-in after the wedding celebrations. After a light lunch though, Donnie had planned a battle re-enactment with a twist. Two sides were going to be selected and the plan was for them to battle it out using paintball guns. One side would defend the McGregor stronghold and the other would try and defeat them. Donnie was explaining to Katie how he intended to select the sides when he once again noticed Rory behaving strangely. "Look at that," he said. Katie looked to where Donnie was pointing and she saw the Collie going through the assembling crowd of guests. Rory was gently nudging individuals so that two definite groups were forming. When an individual left one group and looked as if he or she was going to join the other, the Collie returned to 'herd' them back into position. "What is he doing?" Katie asked. "I know it's hard to believe, but I think Rory's deciding who should be in which group," Donnie answered. "He was doing something similar yesterday during the orienteering thing." "Well, he certainly seems to have done your job for you, now all you have to decide is which group will be the 'McGregors' and which the attackers," Katie laughed. Walking to a point in between the two groups, Donnie called for everyone's attention. "Listen up everyone! It seems as if we have two similarly sized groups here already, so I propose that we just agree to go with that as a split. Agreed?" There were shouts of agreement to that. Donnie wasn't to know that it was partly because many in the two groups had gotten acquainted with each other the day before after Rory had separated them in the woods. Now all we need to do is decide which team will be the ones defending the McGregor territory and..." Donnie was interrupted by Rory barking and running over to the group on his right. Everyone laughed at the Collie's antics. "Well, it seems as if Rory has chosen for us," Donnie conceded. "This team will be the McGregors, by Rory's acclamation!" No one could see any bias involved in the manner of choosing, so despite some grumbling from the group that would be attacking the McGregors, it was accepted by all. "Okay, you have thirty minutes to get yourselves organised and into the starting positions," Donnie advised. "Good luck to all of you and may the best team win!" Two hours had been set aside for the 'battle' and it quickly became apparent that the McGregors or 'defenders' chosen by Rory were by far the better organised and much more strategic in their thinking and tactics. Time after time the attacking group tried to breech the McGregor defences, but there always seemed to be ambushes set or other 'tricks' that gained the defenders an advantage. After the two hours were up, Donnie declared the defenders the winners and reminded everyone that there was still the final element of the programme to be dealt with before people would depart. "Remember everyone that you have been invited to take part in the selection of the clan chieftain as your final activity before departure," he called out. "That will take place in the same location as my nuptials were celebrated yesterday!" Once everyone had gathered inside the dome, it was Katie that stood up before them to speak. "Good afternoon everyone, thank you for staying to take part in this very important meeting," she started. "The genealogy sessions on day one set out my own antecedents and I hope that there is no doubt that I am a direct descendent from those that have led our clan down through the centuries. "The experts also explained about the tradition of rights through marriage and the importance of the heirlooms of our clan in terms of the selection of our chief. "What you don't know is that the ring that I placed on my husband's finger yesterday was the hereditary ring of the clan chieftain and that was my way of confirming Donnie as my choice to lead all of us. "There are other traditions though that cannot be overlooked. The confirmation of a tanist has always been subject to acceptance by the other leaders within the clan – a vote being the normal way for them to have their say. "This afternoon I am asking you to confirm my choice, Donnie McGregor, as chief. You should all be clear, however, that it is your choice. The ballot paper has been designed to allow you to disagree with my nomination and to ask that other possible candidates be found. "I'd like you to exercise your vote now and we will then count the votes as quickly as possible to give you the total results before you leave." Twenty ballot stations had been set up and it only took half an hour for each visitor to complete their ballot paper and post it through the slot in the top of the box at their station. When everyone had had their chance, the boxes were emptied and people were selected at random to scrutinise the ballot papers and then count the votes. It didn't take long and the result was resounding - Donnie's selection was unanimous. Katie led him to the front of the crowd where she kissed him and then stepped to one side. "My friends, fellow McGregors..." Donnie's speech was drowned out by the cheers from the crowd. He waved his arms to try and restore quiet. "Thank you for your confidence in me. This might all seem like play-acting to you, but believe me when I say this step was one that I consider hugely important to the legitimacy of my position. "I will be ensuring that we keep in regular contact with you all from now on through a Gregorach newsletter. You have shown your commitment by coming here for the gathering and I hope to see each of you back next year. There will be opportunities in the future for many to come here to Ardbrecknish to live and work. Now that you've had the chance to see the place, I hope you will consider those opportunities when we send you details of them. "For now all that remains for me to say is Na bi fada gun tilleadh (na bee fatta goon CHEEL-yugh – haste ye back)!" Donnie and Katie circulated for another hour and forty-five minutes, thanking people for coming and wishing them a safe journey home. At last, the guests had all departed apart from Katie's family (and Lizzie Grieg who Vivien had convinced to remain) and squads of contractors could move in to clean up. Archie wandered over to where the newly-weds were standing with their arms around each other. "Well that was a huge success," he said. "Yeh, it went better than I had imagined it and I think they all enjoyed themselves," Donnie agreed. Katie nodded her agreement too. "What have you got planned for this place next then?" Archie asked. "Nothing that you don't already know about," Donnie grinned. "Well why get their hopes up talking about future 'opportunities' then?" "Archie, you know that we need several hundred people to run this place properly," said Donnie. "Yes, but we signed-up all the people we need yesterday before the wedding," said a confused Archie. "Wasn't it you who sent selected people to see me? I thought that was why you split folk up the way you did for the 'battle' – all those that we've recruited were in the 'McGregor' group." Katie laughed and looked at Donnie. "Rory?" she asked. "And the goddess!" Donnie agreed. ------- Chapter 26 Vivien had kept Lizzie simmering over the three days of the clan gathering. She orchestrated just enough contact with Donnie to keep the older girl constantly thinking about her saviour, but didn't allow either of them to get too close to the newly-weds at this stage. Teasing was something Vivien was finding that she was very good at and she easily adopted the personae that she had displayed in the erotic dream the two girls had shared. She had already decided not to return to school – opting for an on-line college course instead – and also that she would remain at Ardbrecknish rather than return to the apartment in Bridge-of-Allan. That would give Donnie and Katie some space and allow Vivien and Lizzie time to put their plans together! With little supervision, Vivien was determined to take the chance to cement her fantasy relationship with Lizzie into something more real. She felt that was the first step in finally convincing Lizzie that marriage to Donnie and Katie was a realistic prospect. Creeping up behind the older girl, Vivien took the role of aggressor again. "Are you ready to play, my beauty?" she breathed. "Today, I'm not Donnie. Today, I'm the person you really need to convince. Why should I share my man with you? I'm Katie, what are you going to do for me? What pleasure can I expect for allowing you to be my wife? Are you going to lick my pussy? Are you good at it? Show me!" Lizzie couldn't help but shiver in anticipation. There was something forbidden, something truly erotic about the thought of actually being with another woman. The suggestion that she had to perform to impress Katie simply heightened the arousal. "I'm waiting," teased Vivien. Lizzie turned and gasped. Vivien had retreated to the sofa and she was reclining with her legs spread, her sex clearly on offer. "Show me that you want me as well as Donnie," Vivien moaned. "Do it, now!" Lizzie moved as if in a dream. She found herself in front of the sofa and sank to her knees. Vivien's pussy was perhaps a foot in front of her face and Lizzie couldn't stop herself from leaning forward until she felt her lips touch the hot, sensitive flesh. "Yes, that's it! Lick me, eat me! Show me you want me," Vivien encouraged. Lizzie felt herself letting go and flowed into the sex act without inhibition. She used her tongue to try and draw as much response from Vivien as she could. Vivien was already hot and managing to entice Lizzie to get so into the 'game' was simply raising her levels of satisfaction. "Lick me! Lick me, baby," Vivien groaned. "Imagine this, the better you do me, the harder he's going to fuck you!" Lizzie redoubled her efforts at Vivien's words. She imagined her saviour kneeling behind her, his hard cock ready to penetrate. The image inspired her to drive Vivien to even greater heights. Her tongue traced Vivien's nether lips and toyed with her clit. Listening to Vivien's responses, Lizzie varied her attack on the sensitive nub. "Oooohh fuck, oh fuck!" Vivien moaned. Lizzie swirled her tongue repeatedly over Vivien's sex bud, her own excitement climbing as she realised just how much she had the younger girl in her control. The roles had flipped. Lizzie was now the one in charge and she played her part to the max! "Is this what you want? " she demanded. "Are you going to come for me? Come, come baby!" ------- Donnie's father had been spot on when he warned his son that he wouldn't have much time for a honeymoon. The demands on Donnie's time from his political party, the SNP, grew substantially. The referendum on independence was being seen as a 'once in a generation' opportunity – in other words, if the SNP lost the vote, it would probably be another twenty or thirty years before it would be credible to put the question to the electorate again. With their holy-grail so close, the party was determined to pull out all of the stops to secure the victory they coveted, Donnie was in the First Minister's campaign group as it toured the country day after day. Alex Salmond gave speech after speech, posed for countless photo opportunities and kissed more babies than you could count. It was becoming customary for the FM's weekly briefing to take place on his hi-tech campaign bus. The bus was kitted out with everything the FM would need – satellite communications, meeting space, living accommodation – the works. Donnie settled-in to a seat behind the FM to listen to what the 'hot-topics' were for that week's briefing. The first item was a surprise. "Oil prices have levelled off and are now predicted to start falling over the next few weeks and months," reported one of the economic advisors. "Well that's a relief," grinned the FM. "Not really, Sir," the advisor disagreed. "Now come on son, I'm an economist myself," Salmond responded, "even I can see that falling oil prices have got to be a good thing!" "I'm sorry, Sir, but no," the advisor maintained. "It's the reason for the fall that's the worry." "What do you mean? You'll have to explain that for me," the FM encouraged him. "Well, Sir. It seems that the Middle East states are finding that even they don't have enough money to import the quantities of food their populations need," the advisor explained. "They are heavily dependent on imports and they are now flooding the markets with oil to try and raise more money to pay for food at today's prices. In short, Sir, food is becoming scarcer and more expensive than oil." It was clear that Alex Salmond understood the basic economics behind this explanation. "Are things really that bad?" he asked. A silver-haired man sitting on the opposite side of the conference table chose to intervene at that point. "Yes, First Minister," said the Chief Medical Officer. "That bad and only going to get worse." "Don't tell me we have a new pandemic to worry about, trust the CMO to bring me happy news," the FM groaned. "Not a pandemic as such, First Minister," answered Alex Crichton. "It's more a crisis due to over population. Basically the population of the Earth was already close to outstripping the amount of food we appear to be able to produce, and with crops failing; we have undoubtedly passed that 'tipping-point'." There was silence round the table as everyone took in the implications of what the CMO had just said. "Are you positive about that?" Alex Salmond challenged. "Absolutely," Crichton affirmed. "The emerging economies – places like China and India – have been growing at a quite astonishing rate. The needs they have been creating have already been affecting global demand. With supply shrinking, things are only going to get worse." "I'm afraid the CMO may well be right," agreed another civil servant. "My contacts in Westminster have shared a few titbits of information that would tend to back up what Alex is saying. The Foreign Office are apparently worried about a number of situations – mostly in Africa – where it looks as if some countries are preparing to simply take the food they need from their neighbours." "Are you saying that African countries are preparing to go to war over food?" the FM asked. The civil servant nodded. "I'm being told that there is also a growing risk of state sponsored piracy – that's focused on the areas you might expect like the horn of Africa, but also off the coast of some South American countries." "State sponsored piracy? Surely not," said a surprised Salmond. "State sponsored piracy isn't a new thing, First Minister," the civil servant explained. "Great Britain was once pretty good at it – privateers I think we called them – when we were at war with the Spanish and the Dutch East India company." "What's our own position? How do things look for the UK as a whole?" Salmond asked. "Bad and deteriorating," the economic advisor answered. "Domestic food production is predicted to be down over thirty percent this year. The Treasury doesn't have enough reserves to replace all of that by buying in imports." "So we all face food shortages?" the FM asked. "I'm afraid it's inevitable, Sir," the advisor confirmed. "Well, what are we doing about it?" Salmond demanded to know. "In the short term the only thing we have been able to do is encourage a programme of increased livestock breeding," the advisor responded. "We can overproduce on things like poultry, pigs, beef and lamb – but even that comes at a cost in feedstuff. For the longer term, we've already identified staple crops from elsewhere in the world that have historically had a colder climate than we have. We're encouraging farmers to gear up to grow those hardier crops for next year." "Of course, we don't have the full economic powers that would allow us to perhaps be a bit more inventive," the FM pointed out. "Another strong argument in favour of our independence referendum! Okay, I want to know what else we are doing to stave off any shortages. Next?" "We've received advance notice from the Home Office of a number of actions they are planning to take in Scotland, First Minister," said the Justice advisor. At the mere mention of the Home Office they could all see the First Minister's expression darken. It was always a sore point when this Westminster department exercised its powers in Scotland and the First Minister could do little about it. "What idiocy are they planning now?" Salmond barked. "There are four asylum seeking families that the Home Office wants removed. Apparently their applications for asylum have been refused and the Home Office sees them as a flight risk. They're planning dawn raids to pick the families up and then deport them," explained the advisor. "This is unacceptable!" stormed the FM. "Battering doors down at 04:00 and frightening the life out of men, women and children! It's barbaric and I won't have it in Scotland!" The civil servants to a man and woman sat with their heads down, unwilling to meet the First Minister's gaze. This was an old story and one that they could do little to avert. The Home Office had the legal powers to do what they were planning and short of physically standing in front of the doors to the houses these families lived in, the FM was powerless to stop it. "There is a new twist on this I'm afraid," the advisor finally worked up the nerve to continue. "With police budgets being cut, the two police forces concerned have indicated that they can't spare the officers necessary to carry out these dawn raids." "Hah! Good for them!" the FM all but cheered. "Sir, I'm not finished," the advisor hurried on. "The Home Office have responded by arranging for the army to carry out the raids." Once again there was virtual silence around the table, the only sound being the spluttering of Alex Salmond who looked as if he was about to have a fit. "Whose idea was that?" he eventually managed to spit out. "As I say, Sir. This is all being planned by the Home Office." "The Scottish public won't stand for this! I won't stand for this!" screamed Salmond. "Find me a way of putting a stop to it!" ------- Campaigning wasn't the only thing occupying Donnie's thinking as August rolled into September 2012. Good progress had been made in finishing all of the building work at Ardbrecknish and the last of the heavy plant had departed. Carol had managed to speed up construction by virtue of the fact that the companies involved didn't have many other contracts to work on. Carol had shown herself to be an excellent project manager as well as a top accountant, and she had managed to adapt the construction programme to accommodate all of the additions that Douglas and Donnie had decided were required. The people who had signed up to take on roles at the site had also begun arriving. These were the people Katie and Donnie suspected that the goddess had had Rory pick out during the homecoming. The fact that there was such a close match in the skills available and the roles that needed filled was a sure sign that Beira had taken a hand. "That's the last silo fully commissioned," Carol told Douglas. "It's all over to you and Commander Jack now." Douglas was in overall charge of all of the farming activities, but Jack Wilcox was the one responsible for logistics and programming as a whole across the site. Jack would be the one who ensured that there were enough skilled people to have everything running, while Douglas maximised the yield from the available pods and surface farming. "Just in time too," Douglas responded to her. "With all the volume and variety of different crops we're now growing, the ability to preserve some of it will be essential." "How much are we keeping?" Carol asked out of curiosity. "Just enough to feed the people here until the next crops are ready for harvest," Douglas responded. "There's no problem getting retailers to buy up the rest of it believe you me!" "Even with the unique approach that Donnie's introduced, it will still only be a drop in the ocean in terms of the shortage of food out there though," Carol observed. Douglas nodded in agreement. As a farmer, it frustrated him that there was such a drastic food shortage, but the Scottish Government hadn't yet taken up Donnie's silo blueprint and put it into operation more widely. "From what Donnie tells me, there are going to be difficult times ahead," said Douglas. "This winter there will be worse shortages than ever before." "Hi you two," said Donnie, appearing behind them. "What are you scheming up between you?" "Nothing," laughed Douglas. "I was just telling Carol that you haven't managed to get our government to build more silos to try and relieve the food crisis." Donnie frowned. "I keep trying," he said. "The scientists all agree that it would make a huge difference, but the bureaucracy is a nightmare. There are arguments over which department should be in the lead, where the funding will come from and even over whether it's national or local government that has the final say on the planning permission required for each potential site." "Madness," Carol opined. "They're arguing over pieces of paper while there are people potentially starving!" "I hope we can achieve a breakthrough soon," said Donnie. "I spoke to Alex Salmond about it and expressed my concern at how long it is taking." ------- The First Minister was in a towering rage. The TV set in his office was showing video footage of the first dawn raid that had been carried out. The time stamp in the bottom right hand corner of the screen showed that the footage had been taken at 04:13. The images showed three army land rovers and a car pulling up outside a high-rise block. Twelve soldiers leapt from the jeeps and rushed into the high-rise. Two suited individuals emerged from the car and followed at a more sedate pace. The footage had clearly been edited, because the time stamp jumped to 04:56 and the soldiers could be seen emerging from the block with 5 civilians 'in custody'. The civilians were a man, woman and three children. As the First Minister watched, the images showed the family being hustled into the rear of the Land rovers and then the two suited individuals climbed back into their car. By now other residents of the high-rise had been awakened by the noise and a crowd of about thirty people had gathered, bleary-eyed, to watch the family being taken away. The footage ended and the civil servants waited nervously for the First Minister's reaction. They saw him take several deep breaths as if to try and calm himself and then he told them what he wanted done. "I want this footage released immediately to all the main media outlets. I want quotes from me saying that this is a disgrace and brings shame on all of us. In this day and age a civilised society should not stand by and let things like this happen. "One of those children could only have been three or four years old! "John, we know the addresses of the next three raids, don't we?" One of the advisors nodded his head. "I want to meet with representatives of the local residents in those areas as soon as possible. Oh, and John, I want that done quietly." "What are you hoping to achieve, Sir," asked John, trying to get a feel for what these planned meeting would involved. "Oh I just want to have a chat," said Salmond. "If I happen to let slip that there are dawn raids planned and my slip just happened to allow the residents to plan organised resistance, that would be a great shame. Wouldn't it? In fact, we could be really unlucky and find that someone had tipped-off the press in advance of the raids and it could all end up on TV. How unfortunate would that be?" The First Minister's pointed look at his press secretary told that individual that he was now expected to brief the media 'off the record' about what was going on. "I believe our fellow Scots won't stand for this. I think that Westminster might just be playing into our hands as well," said the FM. "To be so stupid as to carry out these raids now, in the run up to the independence vote, really is handing me a golden opportunity." Over the course of the next week, the FM had secret meetings with leaders in the communities where the next three raids were planned. He was forthright in explaining his position and in asking the leaders to do all that they could within the law to stop the families being taken into custody. "Oh, it's just possible that the media might also have found out about this," the FM told each group. "You might want to think about some sound bites that you would want to use, just in case the media approach you for a response." In the event only two more dawn raids were attempted. Both were met with crowds of residents who had obviously been forewarned and who had organised barricades and human shields around the target families. The majority of the residents were ordinary Scots citizens, just standing up for a fellow member of their community. The media loved it of course and the Home Office was portrayed as heavy-handed and shameful. After the same thing happened twice in succession, the plans were quietly dropped until things blew over. The media coverage had had the effect that the FM had forecast in the run-up to the independence referendum. Anti-Westminster feeling was running high and that would inevitably have an effect on polling day. Donnie had been party to the FM's scheming over how to stop the dawn raids and he was with him almost constantly over the final day of campaigning before the vote. Donnie was exhausted and he wondered where the older man found the energy to keep going hour after hour. "We can't afford to waste a single minute of the time we have, Donnie," the FM said passionately. "For many of us, this is our one chance to secure independence. I don't want to have any regrets. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and know that I have done everything possible to achieve the victory that we crave so much!" Labour, the Conservatives and the Lib Dems could almost have been co-ordinating their campaigns. All three parties attacked independence as a backward step. They argued that Scotland was too small a country to survive in a global economy, that it would not be able to attract enough inward investment to sustain jobs and economic growth. A key argument in the opposition campaign was that Scotland was heavily dependent upon the public sector and that the country spent more than it would be able to generate by way of revenues. The SNP focused on all of the issues where popular opinion in the country had already been shown to be at odds with Westminster. Donnie's previous arguments about renewable and nuclear energy were repeated. Differences over education and health were highlighted. Alex Salmond emphasised the need for the Scottish Parliament to have unrestricted powers – of course the examples of the dawn raids sponsored by the Westminster Home Office were used to the SNP's advantage too. Polling day, 20 September 2012, was a damp and miserable day, threatening snow already. Polling stations opened at 07:00 and reported a steady stream of voters as people registered their vote on their way to work. The media speculated about turnout, but rules restricted what they were able to say on polling day until after the polling stations were closed. A turnout of at least 50 percent was required and of those, two thirds had to be in favour of independence. Donnie accompanied the First Minister on a whirlwind final tour of key areas in an attempt to squeeze out every last vote for independence that they could. When the time for voting passed, Donnie and Alex Salmond took twenty minutes to simply watch the various TV reports, which were now able to share their 'exit polls' predicting how the vote would go. "It's too close to call," Alex Salmond noted. "The exit polls have been wildly wrong before," Donnie pointed out. "That they have, let's pray that we see that majority climbing as the night goes on," Salmond said tiredly. "If we don't get 50 percent because of the weather, I think I might give up!" That 'prayer' was answered as count after count reported their results. By 03:30 on 21 September 2012, it was clear that Scotland had turned out in sufficient numbers and had voted in favour of independence. Politicians from all parties were still sitting in TV studios giving interviews in the early hours of the morning. The SNP spokesmen were euphoric, while those from the other parties looked shell-shocked. Alex Salmond forced himself to sleep for a few hours at SNP headquarters, as it was clear that the morning was going to bring a media frenzy in light of the result of the vote. These were momentous times for Scotland and he knew he would need to be at his best. Donnie took the opportunity to follow suit and he found a camp-bed where he could lay his weary head. ------- Scottish Government Media Centre, 11:00, 21 September 2012 A refreshed looking Alex Salmond took centre stage in front of the assembled media in the Media Centre in the bowels of St Andrew's House. The historical significance of the independence referendum had attracted reporters from wider afield than normal. Donnie had a vantage point off to one side and he listened to the First Minister open proceedings. "Good morning ladies and gentlemen and welcome to this media briefing on what is I'm sure you'll agree a truly momentous and historic occasion for Scotland and her folk. "I want to say a few brief words and then I'm happy to take questions. "Yesterday the people of Scotland showed courage. The Scots are renowned for courage – fierce in battle, doughty competitors in all walks of life – but yesterday's was a different kind of courage. In the face of terrible economic conditions around the globe, in the face of warnings that we are too small to go it alone, yesterday Scotland chose to re-take control of its own destiny. "Our people were not cowed by the arguments that suggested we are too small to stand on our own. They were not frightened by the prospect of the hard decisions we will face if we are to grow and ensure a better life for all. Yesterday Scotland voted to back itself, to put faith in its own people and in the skills and abilities that we have always demonstrated in leading world innovation. "Against the backdrop of such courage, I stand before you today as a truly humble, but proud Scot. I hope that I can lead your government in delivering a wealthier and fairer, healthier, smarter, safer and stronger, greener Scotland, with opportunities for all. "Time will tell, and you will hold me to account for my record in successfully delivering that now that you have given the SNP your trust. Thank you." As soon as it was clear that the FM had finished his short address, the journalists and reporters began to shout questions at him. With consummate skill, Salmond took control. "One question at a time, please. I'll try and be fair," he smiled. "John from the BBC?" "First Minister, what does the result of the referendum really mean – for you and the country?" asked the BBC reporter. "I would have thought that was self-evident," the FM answered. "The people of Scotland have expressed their will and there has to be independence. For me it is a life-long ambition realised and for the country, I believe it marks a truly historic moment, a moment when we became a nation again!" Further competition broke out for the right to ask the next question. "Emma from ITV?" the FM invited. "What practical steps are required now before Scotland can really be said to be independent?" "That's a good question. I will be seeking an immediate meeting with the Prime Minister at Westminster to make our future programme known," said Salmond. "I will also be seeking an audience with Her Majesty the Queen to have an initial exchange of views over her continuing role as Scotland's constitutional monarch. After that, there are many steps that have to be taken. The hand-over of power from Westminster needs to be achieved in an orderly fashion. "Systems will need to be put in place to manage things once we sever the ties to England – systems to collect revenue, to deal with welfare and to ensure that we are safe and secure. We will be affirming our place with other partners around the world and building the relationships that establish our voice in the community of nations." "First Minister," shouted the reporter from Sky news. "Has the Prime Minister been in touch to offer his congratulations?" Alex Salmond adopted a sardonic smile. "Not yet, Mike, but I expect he will once he's finished swallowing the bitter pill that this result represents for his government." Another barrage of questions followed, and Donnie at last felt he could slip away and return to the apartment in Bridge-of-Allan. It seemed like weeks since he had spent any time with his wife, as Katie was totally immersed in her final year of studies and he had been on the campaign trail. ------- Donnie arrived at the apartment and knew he had time to begin preparing a meal. Katie wouldn't be finished classes for a couple of hours yet, so he opted to prepare a hearty casserole that could simmer for a long time to ensure the beef melted in the mouth. Once the food was cooking, he logged-on to the Internet and tried to catch up with some of the things he knew he had been neglecting. His e-mail box was full and overflowing, so he skimmed through it, looking for anything that looked urgent. Several messages from Eric caught his eye and he opened the first one. I was worried that MI5 might have hacked into your system, so I tried it myself – pretty easy! You shouldn't rely on high street security software. You had a number of spyware viruses, but I've removed them. I've downloaded a wee something I made up myself, so you should be safe from now on, but I'll scan your system on a weekly basis from now on. Geek! Donnie wasn't sure that he liked the idea of anybody being able to access his system, but on reflection he believed he could trust his secrets with Eric. He clicked on the second e-mail the geek had sent. Nothing much happening with Malloy. He ordered some operation to 'lift' some suspects under the guise of failed asylum applications, but I didn't think you would find that very interesting. He's still having you followed, but the change of mobile phones seems to be cutting down on his 'electronic take'. I'll let you know if he gets up to anything more interesting. Geek" Donnie started typing a reply immediately. You shouldn't assume – you know what they say? It makes an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'. I would have been interested in the operation Malloy ordered. Maybe you should just keep me updated on everything he does? I'm planning on being at Arbrecknish around lunchtime tomorrow. See you then? Donnie. ------- Chapter 27 Donnie and Katie arrived at Ardbrecknish to spend the weekend. Snow had started to fall heavily, another sign perhaps that the climate was changing. Katie made a bee-line for the house that had been allocated to her mother and sister, who had stayed on after the clan gathering. Donnie decided to take the opportunity of catching up with a number of key people that he had neglected over the past few weeks because of his commitment to campaigning for the SNP. Donnie's first call was at his parents' house. His mother was pleased to see him, but groused about the fact that Donnie had spent so much time on the road during the referendum campaign. "But it was worth it in the end, mom," Donnie defended himself. "We secured a 'yes' vote for independence and that surely means that my time was well spent?" "A 'yes' vote is all very well and good, young man," Mairi chided. "Just remember that you have other responsibilities and you have to be careful lest people think you are shirking them!" Donnie put his arm round her in a hug. "That's one of the things I like most about you, mom. You never let people forget what's expected of them." "Quite right too!" Mairi nodded. "I was looking for dad," said Donnie. "Any idea where he might be?" "The last I saw of him, he was going off to look at the canning plant with young Vivien," said Mairi. "I think she wanted to try and dismantle parts of the system to see how they work. That girl!" Donnie laughed and started walking towards the silo that had been altered to accommodate the canning facility at its base. Halfway towards it, he met his father coming the other way. Douglas waved. "Hi, dad. How are things?" asked Donnie. Douglas waved around him at the falling snow. "It's at times like these that I realise just how good your idea for growing crops actually is," said Douglas. "Look at this, snow in September! All of our crops are thriving though, especially with the fertiliser that Heather worked on." "Have you left Vivien up to her elbows in oil and grease again?" Douglas asked. "Let me tell you, that girl is going to save us a fortune on maintenance bills," said Douglas. "There doesn't seem to be anything that she can't figure out in a flash – she's a mechanical genius!" Donnie's heart warmed to see his father so happy and animated. He hadn't realised just how much the strain of running Craig Bheithe farm at a loss over the past two years had been. Douglas almost looked as if he was five years younger. Donnie's next port of call was to silo #8 to see how Professor White was getting on with the recycling plant. Donnie knew that Bill had ripped up the contract for the first contractor who had been supplying sub-standard steel. A second, more expensive, but higher quality contractor had been taken on. Donnie hoped that had made a difference in terms of the speed of progress. Entering the dome above silo #8, Donnie walked along the path that ran around the perimeter towards where the elevator was situated. This dome was somewhat unique in that it contained living accommodation inside it, as well as a number of fruit orchards. Entering the elevator, he pressed to descend to the floor of the silo and watched as the layers and layers of pods flashed in front of him. These pods weren't growing wheat, but Donnie couldn't quite make out what the plants were. He saw Bill White talking to Heather over by the large recycling structure and crossed to speak to them both. "Good morning you two," said Donnie. "Ah, it's our Lord and Master gracing us with his presence!" joked Heather. "I believe congratulations are in order," Donnie told her. "Your ideas for producing natural fertiliser are producing great results apparently." "She's been a fantastic help here too," added Bill. Heather flushed a little at the praise. "It certainly looks as if you're making much better progress," Donnie observed. "We're just completing the final checks before we sign-off on the construction phase," Bill advised. "After that we're planning a couple of months of trials to make sure it works properly. We'll start off small and work our way up to complex compounds." "That's great news!" said a delighted Donnie. "You've every right to be proud," said Bill. "It was your original concept after all." After some further discussion over what the trials of the recycling plant would involve, Donnie left silo #8 in search of Archie Roy, his head of Security. He came across Mark Petrie, one of Archie's security staff, but he had no idea where his boss might be. Giving up for the moment, Donnie decided to drop in on Eric and Louise instead, only to find that Archie was with them in Eric's apartment. "Aha! I've been looking for you," said Donnie. "Nobody knew where you were." "You should have called my mobile," said Archie, offering an obvious solution. "Doh!" exclaimed Donnie. "Was there anything in particular that you wanted me for?" asked Archie. "No, I'm just trying to make sure I touch base with everyone over the course of the weekend," Donnie replied. "I've been out of circulation a little because of the referendum campaign." "Good result by the way," Archie offered. Before Donnie could thank Archie, Eric butted in. "It might have been a good result, but it might not deliver what he's expecting," said the geek. "What do you mean?" asked Donnie. "Independence," said Eric. "The referendum might have voted 'yes', but that still might not result in independence." Donnie couldn't quite figure out what Eric was getting at. "I don't follow you," he said. "The public voted for independence, why shouldn't they get it? "Louise and I were just looking at some of the latest stuff I've picked up from the MI5 system." Said Eric. "Unless I miss my guess, it looks like the UK Government is getting ready to play hard ball." "What makes you say that," asked a now very interested Donnie. "Have a look," offered Eric. He pushed himself to one side so that Donnie could see the computer screen. The image was of an e-mail from Malloy. To: Heads of Section From: Malloy Subject: Intelligence briefing for COBRA We have been asked to pull together an intelligence briefing for a meeting of the COBRA emergency committee. The briefing needs to cover likely security issues that will arise if and when the Government refuses to allow Scottish independence to proceed. Please cover all possible scenarios.Malloy Donnie was appalled. "But they can't refuse!" he spluttered. "They can't ignore the will of the Scottish electorate!" "Reading between the lines, I think that's exactly what Westminster intends to do," Eric disagreed. "But that will cause chaos! Riots!" Donnie argued. "How can they claim to be a democratic government? Shit!" "The bottom line is that they have the authority," said Louise. "I believe they could actually legislate and revoke the Scotland Act and that would actually take away the Scottish Parliament as well." Donnie was thinking furiously. He was sure that this was something that he had to share with the First Minister as quickly as possible. If Alex Salmond didn't already known what the Westminster Government intended, then warning him might somehow give him a slight edge in how he responded when Westminster did show its hand. The only problem was ... how did he explain how he knew? He decided that he could do worse than ask for advice from the people in the room with him at that moment. "Listen, I think I need to warn the First Minister about this," he started. "The only thing is that I would need to have a good explanation for where I got the information from. Any ideas?" Archie, Eric and Louise thought about Donnie's question. "Couldn't you just claim that you've heard a rumour?" asked Archie. "Why not just claim to have a relative who works in Westminster?" suggested Louise. "I could probably fake an e-mail," said Eric. "Heck, I could probably hack into a Westminster department and really send you an e-mail. That way you could show the e-mail as evidence." Donnie thought that would work. "Could you do that now?" he asked. "Any preference for which department you want it to come from?" asked Eric? Donnie had to think about that for a moment. "Which departments would know about this?" he thought aloud. "The Home Office would probably be best. Can you do that? Could you send me an e-mail from the Home Office?" "Easy," said Eric. "Some of the MI5 traffic has gone there, so I've already got a trail in. What do you want it to say?" "I guess we need to make it different to Malloy's," said Donnie. "If it gets out, we don't want to run the risk that Malloy could be alerted. Why not have it say something similar. It's likely that quite a few people have been asked to prepare briefings." Eric started typing. "How about this?" he asked. Donnie looked at the screen. Donnie Thought you would want to know that it looks as if the independence vote is going to be ignored. We've been asked to prepare a briefing on what the legal and political implications will be if Westminster refuses to accept the outcome of the referendum. I'll be back in Scotland next month. Maybe catch up with you then. Rab "That looks perfect," said Donnie. "How long will it take you to hack into the system so that you can send it?" Eric didn't answer. Instead his fingers began flying across his keyboard again. Donnie, Archie and Louise exchanged glances and smiled. It seemed Eric was showing off a little by hacking into the Home Office system while they watched. "There, done," said Eric smugly. "Amazing, you truly are amazing, Eric," said Donnie. Fishing his new iPhone out of his pocket, Donnie checked his mail and saw that Eric's little gift was there in his in-box. The origin of the e-mail was quite clearly the Home Office from the sender's address. "Okay, I can use that," he confirmed. "I need to act on this as quickly as possible. If anything else comes up, make sure you get it to me!" With that, Donnie rushed from Eric's apartment. "Well that certainly seems to have set the cat amongst the pigeons," suggested Eric. ------- Donnie ran to his Ardbrecknish home, hoping that Katie would be there. When he found the house empty, he guessed that she was with her mother and sister, so rushed to their house next. Katie and her sister, Jennifer, looked up as Donnie burst into the room. "Katie, I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to leave for a bit," blurted Donnie. Katie winced. She had seen so little of her new husband recently, but she knew this had to be important or Donnie wouldn't be suggesting that he had to leave. "What's happened?" she asked. In answer Donnie held out his iPhone and Katie took it. She looked at the e-mail message on the screen and couldn't stifle a gasp of shock. "They wouldn't, they can't!" she cried. As a politics major, Katie had a better than average understanding of the implications of what the e-mail message was suggesting. She had shared Donnie's euphoria at the referendum victory and she was dismayed at the possibility that Westminster was thinking about refusing to accept it. "I need to go and see the First Minister," said Donnie. "If he doesn't already know about this, he needs to be told so that he can start planning how to do something about it." Katie could see why that was important and she was one hundred percent behind Donnie trying to do something to make sure that the independence vote wasn't ignored. "Of course," she agreed. "Do what you need to, if I can help then just let me know." Donnie pulled her onto her feet and gave her a kiss in thanks for her understanding. "I'll phone to let you know what I'm doing!" he shouted as he ran from the house. Donnie fitted his phone into the car cradle before he strapped himself in and started the Polo. The snow was quite thick on the ground, but he was determined that the weather wouldn't stop him from alerting the FM. He waited until he was on the A85 before he hit the speed dial to call Anthony Brown. When Anthony answered, he told the special advisor what he wanted. "Anthony? Hi, it's Donnie McGregor," he said. "Hi, Donnie. What has got you phoning me over the weekend? More to the point, why are you in your car in weather likes this?" Donnie laughed at Anthony's radar picking up the fact that he was on the hands-free set up. "Mmm, yes, I'm sorry to bother you on a Saturday," Donnie apologised. "I need to speak to the First Minister urgently. It has to be face-to-face. Do you know where he is?" "He's at home for the weekend. I'm sure that he's doing some TV bids on Sunday to talk about the referendum, but he's trying to recharge his batteries before then." Donnie could tell from Anthony's tone that he wasn't happy about the idea of Alex Salmond's R&R being disturbed. "Anthony, if it wasn't important I wouldn't ask," he pleaded. "If I don't speak to him, you could find yourself out of a job on Monday!" Anthony had grown to know Donnie quite well over the past year or so and he could tell that this wasn't a trivial issue. "Where are you?" "I'm heading past Loch Lomond on my way towards Glasgow," Donnie answered. "Could you make for Perth?" "Why Perth?" Donnie asked. "It's roughly half-way between where you are and where Alex is." "Oh! I see, okay," said Donnie. "Where about in Perth?" "Not sure yet. I'll have to phone Alex. I'll get back to you." ------- It took Donnie a further hour and a half to reach the car park of the Perth Concert Hall where Anthony had eventually directed him. Anthony had indicated that the First Minister wasn't happy at having his Saturday disrupted and he warned Donnie to be prepared for a serious grump! Donnie saw a black SAAB pull into the car park and watched as the driver seemed unsure of where he/she was going. Eventually the SAAB pulled into a vacant space and Donnie climbed out of the Polo. Approaching the SAAB, Donnie confirmed that it was actually the First Minister driving and he walked round the car to the passenger side. Opening the door, he got in. Donnie was hardly settled in the passenger seat before the FM started to tear into him. "Listen, Donnie. I've been good to you by giving you the access that you've had," barked Salmond. "I do not expect you to take advantage of that by seeking even more access beyond what I give you." Donnie actually had to bite his tongue at the undeserved onslaught. Rather than reply in kind, he held out his iPhone with the e-mail message from the Home Office displayed. "Is this some kind of joke?" Salmond seethed. "First Minister, I'd prefer it if you would stop snarling at me," Donnie cautioned. "I wouldn't have asked Anthony to put me in touch with you on a Saturday unless it was important. "I got that e-mail this morning – only two hours ago – and my first thought was to alert you. If you think that I'm becoming a nuisance then so be it, but that message is potentially bigger than you or me." Salmond seemed to realise that he was in effect 'shooting the messenger' and his expression softened a little. "You're right, I'm sorry," said the FM. "Is this genuine?" "I believe that it is," Donnie answered. "The bastards!" cursed Salmond. "But we can stop this, can't we?" asked Donnie. "It would be a public disaster for the UK Government to ignore a democratic vote." "Welcome to the dirty world of real-politick, Donnie," said the FM. The First Minister pulled his own phone from the car cradle and thumbed a button. After a few moments he spoke. "Anthony? It's me. I need you to call a cabinet meeting immediately – no excuses on this, they all need to be there unless they're actually in surgery. It's especially important that the Attorney General is there. No, immediately. I'm on my way to Bute House now." Once the phone call was over, Salmond turned to Donnie again. "You haven't been to a cabinet meeting yet, have you? Let's reward you by fixing that. You know where Bute House is?" Donnie had a good idea where the First Minister's official residence was in Edinburgh and he nodded to indicate that. "Good, I'm heading there now. Follow me," ordered the FM. ------- There were no call-offs for the cabinet meeting, It was unusual to have the First Minister call them together like this and Anthony's calls had made it clear that Alex Salmond expected full attendance. Coffee, tea and juice were available and each Minister helped themselves as they entered the meeting room and then found their seat. Curious glances were cast in Donnie's direction, as it was highly unusual for outsiders to attend such meetings. It was even more unusual for anyone outside the cabinet to attend when the civil servants were excluded. "Can we make a start?" asked the FM. Things quietened down quickly. Donnie was shocked at the FM's next words, "Donnie, tell everyone about the intelligence that's been passed on to you," he said. All eyes were suddenly on Donnie. A faint link to his gifts allowed Donnie to maintain his calm, despite the attention. "You want me to tell them about the e-mail?" he asked the FM. "Of course," nodded Salmond. Donnie looked at the kit in the room and had an idea. He walked to the 'ensemble' and quickly figured out how to link his iPhone to the projector. A few clicks called the e-mail up onto the screen that was positioned on one wall. "I received this e-mail this morning," Donnie told them. "You can see that it's from a friend. He's Scottish and I can only assume he felt it was important to let me know what was going on. When I realised what this seemed to be suggesting, I contacted the First Minister as quickly as possible. I'm sure I don't have to say it, but it appears as if Westminster is going to refuse to accept the referendum vote." To say there was pandemonium in the room would have been an understatement. Independence was the holy-grail to these people and they thought that, against all odds, they had achieved it. The suggestion that Westminster was somehow going to deny them their destiny was like a declaration of war. Alex Salmond let the outrage have its head for a few minutes before he restored order. "Okay, okay, can we park the justified outrage and start to discuss what we are going to do about this?" he asked. "What is the legal position?" The Attorney General paused to take a deep breath before responding. "Legally, Westminster can point to the Scotland Act and show that they have the final say. The existence of the Scottish Parliament is down to Westminster legislation and they have the primary legislative position on this constitutionally. "The Act of Union takes precedence and in effect, they could repeal the Scotland Act and disband the Scottish Parliament with the majority they have." That revelation caused a fresh surge of outrage in the room. "Ideas and suggestions please on what we might do?" requested the FM. A range of suggestions were put forward before Donnie made another contribution. "Emm, I don't want to appear daft," he said. "But can't we just declare UDI?" There was a moment of silence after his suggestion and then a hubbub of voices started again. Alex Salmond intervened to try and control the discussion. "Well, can we try and discuss this sensibly and find a way forward?" he asked. "Donnie's suggestion is actually a good one," commented the Attorney General. "We have the legitimacy of the referendum vote to hang a Unilateral Declaration of Independence from. The important thing is how the international community reacts to such a move." "Would the electorate expect anything less from us?" the FM asked. "They had the courage to vote 'yes' in the referendum, if we let them down after that it would be unforgivable. We didn't work all these years for this, only to have the prize ripped from our grasp at the moment of glory! "I want a plan of actions that we can take to force home the vote that we have achieved. I'm afraid your weekend has been cancelled. It's unclear when Westminster is going to go public with this, but if at all possible we need to be in a position to be ahead of their thinking, be ahead of the curve on this! Colleagues, we've won the vote, but we still have a fight on our hands to secure independence!" ------- Chapter 28 Whilst Donnie was working with the SNP cabinet to try and find ways of counteracting the UK Government's plans to ignore the independence vote, the goddess had decided that it was time for action on other fronts. Beira stood on the summit of Ben Cruachan, the heavy snow falling around her cut visibility down to around twenty feet or so. The golden aura surrounding the goddess seemed to deflect the flakes of snow away from her. The expression on Beira's summer face seemed like one of distaste for the wintry conditions. All at once, the expression changed to one of resolve – as if the goddess had come to a decision. "Fionne, Epona, I have need of your service!" Epona appeared before her and she bowed low. Beside the goddess of fertility another deity appeared, this one in male form. He was of only average height, but his aura exuded power almost in visible waves. Beira turned to Epona first. "You have already meddled a little on my behalf with the second and third wives of the Gregorach. I need you to go a little further with Lizzie. She has no gifts as yet and maybe if she had access to your gift she might be somewhat more confident about what her future role will be. You can serve me by granting her your gift." "As you wish, Mother." Epona faded from view, presumably to perform her service for Beira. Beira turned to Fionne. "You Fionne are the warrior god with the words of a poet and magic in your fingertips." Fionne bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. "I have reason to ask that you share your gifts too. Your service to me will require that you visit two of the mortals before the evening has passed. Serve me well." "It will be as you say, Mother." Fionne faded from view as Epona had before him. ------- Donnie was tired as he parked the VW Polo and turned off the engine. The driving conditions had been treacherous and the focus and concentration required had taken quite a bit out of him. He reached within himself to draw a little on the gift of Tailtui before getting out of the car. Before he could take a step towards the house, he felt the familiar queasiness in his stomach that signalled the goddess was transporting him somewhere. Looking around himself, he could see that he was at the base of silo #8. The bulky outline of the recycling plant was clearly visible due to the glare from the growing lights above. To his surprise, Donnie also saw the goddess herself standing before him. "You are doing well, Dòmhnall. Things are coming to a head now and I'm afraid that my time with you is growing short. I have brought you here to give you one of my final gifts." Donnie looked to where the goddess was pointing and he saw a building that he had never noticed before. It was single storey, brick-built and didn't appear to have any windows. "Look inside." Donnie walked to the door of the building and saw that it was controlled by an electronic system through a keypad. "The pass-code is 7359," He entered the number on the keypad and the door swung inwards. As Donnie walked inside, lights came on overhead, clearly activated by a motion sensor. With the lights now on, Donnie could see that the length and breadth of the building was stuffed full of armaments. "Perhaps I should have said that this gift is for Archie rather than yourself, Dòmhnall, as I have little doubt that his eyes will light up when he sees everything that I have given you. When you show him this you need to stress that all of the people here need to be trained as quickly as possible – even your wife and family." "Are things going to get so bad that we'll need all this?" Donnie asked somewhat fearfully. "I need to make sure that you are prepared, Dòmhnall. I may have overdone it a little, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Try one of the rifles." Donnie walked over to one of the gun racks and lifted a rifle. It seemed to be a replica of the one he had fired when he had healed Archie all those months ago in Waziristan. No sooner did he have the rifle in his hands, than he felt the vertigo sensation once again. "Now you are prepared for your next task. Do not hesitate to use the gun this time, Dòmhnall. Not only your life depends on that!" ------- Pollokshields, Glasgow 03:10 23 September 2012 The group was six strong, five of them armed with wooden baseball bats and the sixth carrying a sledge-hammer. They quickly walked away from the white Ford Transit that had brought them north from Yorkshire and turned the corner into the road where the house they had targeted was situated. Ski-masks were pulled tightly over their faces as they neared the tall gates that blocked access to the drive. It was clear that the occupants didn't feel the need to worry about security, as the gates weren't even locked. Within moments all six of the group were through and heading up the drive, the snow muffling any sound they might have made. By unspoken agreement the five with the baseball bats stood to one side of the door to the house to allow the one with the sledge-hammer room to swing it. He aimed the head for the point on the door where the lock was situated then swung with all of his might. There was an almighty crash accompanied by the sound of wood splintering. Another swing was sufficient to part the lock from the doorjamb, and the group had entry. A quick look told them that the noise didn't seem to have carried to any of the neighbouring houses, as there were no lights suddenly being switched on. Without a word said, the group pushed forward into the house. The noise of the forced entry may not have disturbed the neighbourhood, but it had most certainly rudely disturbed the occupants of the house. A Pakistani youth of perhaps nineteen or twenty burst from a doorway to investigate what was going on, but he froze when he saw the masked men in the hallway. Another Pakistani teenager appeared behind the first. A noise from the stairwell drew the eyes of the masked group and they saw an older Pakistani man on the landing above. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. A woman, much too young looking to be his wife, was clutching at his arm and her face expressed her sheer terror. It was almost as if time had been frozen, as the three separate groups stared at each other, but didn't move for a few moments. Then things exploded into action. Three of the masked men bolted for the stairs. The woman screamed loudly and the man pushed her back into one of the rooms they had come from. "Lock the door Amira!" he screamed at her before turning to face the stairs once more. The two Pakistani teenagers were brave and they rushed towards the remaining three masked men in the hallway. Their bravery was repaid harshly, as their charge was met by two of the masked men with swinging baseball bats. Completely unarmed, the two boys went down under a welter of blows. Once they were down, the man with the sledge-hammer aimed a single sickening blow to each of their heads. Upstairs, the older Pakistani didn't fare any better given the odds that he faced. In moments he too was down, unconscious, and the blows focused on his now unprotected head. Although brutal, at least death had been relatively quick for all three victims so far. The prospects for 'Amira' seemed different though. "Ricky! Get up here with the sledge-hammer. Perhaps we can have a little fun with the one that's left before we finish her off." ------- Donnie heard a series of thuds and then a man shouting for someone to bring a sledge-hammer. He turned around to try and figure out where the goddess had transported him to and he saw what looked like a young Pakistani woman standing with her back to him. The woman had a large pair of scissors in her hand and she was totally focused on the door to the bedroom that they were in. Donnie guessed she was preparing to defend herself from whoever was on the other side of the door. "Stand to the side of the door," he ordered, drawing on his gifts to lend him more strength and confidence. The woman spun round, a look of panic on her face. Despite the gravity of the situation, Donnie couldn't fail to see how beautiful she was. Her hair was long, silken and straight, falling to the middle of her back and it was so black it almost shone blue. Her eyes were brown and at that moment they glinted with menace. The robe she was wearing was tied tightly at the waist, which emphasised her figure. Donnie estimated that she was only around twenty years of age. He mentally shouted at himself, as he realised that this was no time to be admiring the woman. If he didn't miss his guess, she was on the verge of launching herself at him with the scissors, clearly seeing him as the most immediate threat. Putting all of his inner gifts into his words, Donnie tried to persuade her otherwise. "I'm not going to harm you," he said. "Stand away from the door to give me a clear line of fire." The young woman seemed to register the rifle in Donnie's hands for the first time and she dropped the scissors before quickly snatching the weapon from him. At that moment there was a tremendous crash and the bedroom door flew open. A masked man with a sledge-hammer in his hands was framed in the doorway and the woman didn't hesitate in firing a short burst that caught the man in the chest. As the first attacker fell to the floor, two more appeared and the woman fired the rifle again, hitting both in the upper body. Sounds outside in the hallway suggested that there were others, but that they were now trying to get away. The woman was quick and agile, as she leapt over the bodies now crumpled in the doorway. Donnie heard the rifle firing several more bursts and he started towards the bedroom door to see what was going on. "Not yet, Dòmhnall. You were foolish in letting her take the rifle from you and with the battle fever upon her; she might easily decide to shoot you too. I will bring her to you later." Donnie felt a tingling sensation in his stomach and quickly found himself standing in the armoury at the base of silo #8 once more. "Goddess! Goddess! What they hell is going on?" Donnie demanded. There was no response and he was left trying to figure out what had just happened. He had no idea who the girl/woman was or who had been attacking her or why? He didn't even know where he had been. "I'm not even sure if she spoke English," Donnie thought to himself. "She certainly knew how to handle a rifle!" ------- Ardbrecknish, Argyll, Scotland 08:30 23 September 2012 Some of the mystery surrounding where he had been the night before was cleared up for Donnie when he turned on the TV news that Sunday morning. ... a police spokesman said that there have been nine fatalities in this house on this quiet suburban street. The owner of the house is a merchant, Gurat Yurab and I understand that his son and daughter live here with him. The police will not confirm whether Mr Yurab and his family are amongst the dead, but I can exclusively reveal that a source indicates at least two of the deceased have strong links to the British National Party. We can't speculate of course, but this tragic event is beginning to show all the signs of being racially motivated. Finally, the police have confirmed that they do have one person in custody, believed to be a young female... He heard sounds coming from upstairs and guessed that Katie was getting up so he started some scrambled eggs for her. "Morning, sleepyhead," Donnie greeted her when she walked into the kitchen. "Morning. What time did you get back?" Katie asked. "It was after three," Donnie replied. "What kept you?" "We worked late on a series of things that we could do if Westminster really does decide to refuse to accept the independence vote," Donnie explained. "After that I had to drive back here from Edinburgh with the roads in an awful state due to the snow." Katie nodded to show that she understood. She rubbed her left arm and then reached to grab a mug so that she could pour herself some coffee. "I'm not finished yet," said Donnie. Katie poured the coffee and gave him her attention once more. "Maybe you should have a seat?" suggested Donnie. Katie was suddenly more wide awake and the morning sleepiness vanished from her eyes. She pulled out a chair and sat down, rubbing her upper arm again as she did so. "When I got back here, the goddess put in an appearance," Donnie continued. "She transported me to silo #8 and showed me a complete armoury full of weapons. I've got to admit that it was scary. She told me that we were going to need the weapons to defend ourselves and she cautioned me to make sure that Archie trains all of us." "Weapons?" asked a shocked Katie. "Defend ourselves against who?" "The goddess didn't tell me that," Donnie admitted. "But that's no surprise, when does she ever show me the full picture. Anyway, she wasn't finished with me." "You mean she asked you to serve her?" Katie asked, absently rubbing her arm yet again. Donnie nodded and then pointed to the TV set that was still reporting from outside the house in Glasgow. Katie turned her attention to the news report and Donnie remained quiet while she listened. He could see that the colour was draining from her face. Once Katie had understood the gist of the story that was being reported, she turned back to her husband. "That was you?" she asked. "You killed nine people?" Donnie could see that she was stunned and on the verge of going into shock. He rushed to try and avert that. "No, I didn't kill anyone," he said. "When I got there, there was a girl locked inside a bedroom. She looked as if she was getting ready to fight for her life using only a pair of scissors. She was fast, I'll give her that. Before I could stop her, she'd snatched my rifle..." "She snatched your rifle?" gasped Katie. "When did you suddenly get a rifle?" Donnie realised that he hadn't explained that part of events. "No, sorry. I missed that bit out," he said. "Beira asked me to pick out a rifle in the armoury before she transported me to where the girl was. Anyway, the girl snatched the rifle and then someone smashed the door in. She didn't hesitate, she just shot him. Another two appeared in the doorway and she shot them too. After that she ran out of the room and I heard more gunfire. I was going to look to see what was happening when the goddess transported me back here." "So it was the girl who killed them all?" Katie asked, her eyes wide with growing astonishment. "I don't know for sure," said Donnie. "I saw her kill three and I heard more gunfire, but I didn't see what happened outside the bedroom." "What are you going to do?" Katie asked. "What do you mean?" "I mean, are you going to contact the police?" Donnie shook his head emphatically. "No way, how could I ever explain how I got there or how I managed to get out again?" he asked. "And remember, it was me who took the rifle into the house, so I could be guilty there too!" "You must have been stressed when you came to bed," said Katie, in a seemingly unconnected statement. "Huh?" "You must have been tossing and turning or something, enough to upset me," Katie tried to explain. "It made me have the strangest of dreams. You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Donnie couldn't quite make the connection, and therefore chose to ignore Katie's dream and returned to the issue of the killings and the girl again. "I'm going to have to think about whether I need to follow up on this or not," he said. "If it's the girl that the police have in custody, then she's probably already told the police about me." "Just how much could she tell them?" Katie asked. "Enough to give an accurate description," said Donnie. Katie seemed to have been growing increasingly relaxed as they spoke and the reason for that became clear with her next comment. "I don't think we need to worry too much. I mean, when has there ever been a bad outcome from one of your trips for the goddess?" she asked, her right hand stroking her left shoulder. Donnie had to think about that, but he realised Katie had a point. "The goddess might be frightening us to death by supplying weapons and warning us about things to come, but she normally looks after us in the end," said Katie. "Tell me what the First Minister is going to do when Westminster refuses to allow independence?" Donnie paused for a moment while he mentally changed gears. "The main thing was actually my idea, I'm afraid," he said with more than a hint of embarrassment. "You big lug! Look at you, embarrassed because you were the one to suggest a solution to a national problem. You don't have to be modest all the time, Donnie!" "You know that I don't like taking the credit for things," Donnie replied. "Will you tell me what the idea is?" asked Katie in exasperation. "I suggested that we should just Unilaterally Declare Independence," Donnie told her. He could see that Katie was mulling that over. "UDI?" Wow, way to go Donnie!" she said. Donnie explained how the SNP cabinet had warmed to his idea and how that led to a marathon session working out practical details and strategic actions that could be set in train. Donnie's mobile rang, interrupting his explanation. "Hello?" he answered. "Donnie? It's Anthony. The FM would like you around today; he thinks things are going to go public." "When?" Donnie asked. "One o'clock this afternoon. He's being interviewed live on BBC, the Politics Show." "So I need to get to his house?" Donnie asked, cringing at the thought of a long journey north. "No, Alex stayed in Edinburgh last night. He's doing the interview from Bute House." "Okay," said Donnie. "I'll be there." As he had been talking to Anthony Brown, Donnie absently noticed that Katie was still rubbing her shoulder. When he ended the call, he asked her about it. "Is there something wrong with your shoulder? You've been rubbing it ever since you got up," he said. Katie stopped rubbing and looked at him. "It's nothing, I'm going for a shower," she said. "Did I hear you right? Are you going back to be with the FM this afternoon?" Donnie grunted in the affirmative. "I'm going to find Archie first and show him the 'candy store' that the goddess has provided," he said. "I guess I need to ask him to think about training as well." ------- "Couldn't we just play for a little while?" Lizzie pleaded. "I'm really horny this morning and if I don't do something about it I'll not be able to function properly!" Vivien was surprised at how forward and insistent the older girl was being. It was normally always Vivien that initiated their games. So she was pleased that Lizzie was starting to loosen up. "Oh Lizzie, I'm really sorry," she said, regret obvious in her tone. "I've already promised to help Douglas with some machinery that's acting up. I'll make it up to you this afternoon, promise." Lizzie groaned in frustration, her need plain on her face. ------- Donnie found Archie much easier this time by doing exactly what the security chief had suggested. He phoned Archie's mobile and asked him to meet at silo #8. They shared the elevator down to the floor of the silo and Donnie led the way over to the new building that had appeared. Donnie put the pass-code into the keypad and the door opened. "The code is 7359," he told Archie. Once again their movement turned on the lights in the windowless building and Archie was suddenly like a child whose Christmases had all come at once. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "Before you get too carried away, I need to tell you how all of this comes to be here," said Donnie. He could see that it took a great effort on Archie's part to drag his eyes away from the weapons so that he could focus on what Donnie was saying to him. "All this has been supplied by the goddess," Donnie explained. "She told me that we would need this stuff to defend ourselves, and she also told me that you would need to set up a training programme for everybody here at Ardbrecknish." "Of course, what else would I do?" asked Archie. "It's all beginning to make sense." "I wish you'd explain it to me then," laughed Donnie. ------- The First Minister was impatient and it showed, as he could hardly sit still while the make-up artist got him ready for his live TV interview. Donnie remained in the background, keen to avoid Salmond's sharp tongue himself. "Don't worry," grinned Anthony. "You've seen him perform before. Once he gets in front of the camera he turns into the consummate politician." The 'Politics Show' was a programme that normally ran in two parts – reflecting how politics worked in the UK. The first half of the show dealt with UK issues, the ones that the Westminster Government reserved for itself. The second half allowed Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland to focus on issues dealt with by the devolved governments in those countries. A TV monitor had been specially set up so that the FM would be able to see the first half of the show. A presenter was in the process of interviewing the British Prime Minister, David Cameron. ... can we turn now to the vote for independence in Scotland, Prime Minister? Just how will the separation of the Scots work and what impact will it have on the rest of the UK? I think we first of all have to ask ourselves whether such a course of action is in the best interests of both Scotland and the UK (Cameron answered). But surely it's a fait accompli? There are no further questions, the electorate in Scotland have been asked and have answered the ultimate question and they have said that they want independence. I and many others believe that the UK is stronger together. There is an argument, one that I accept, that Scotland alone shouldn't be the ones to decide on such a huge issue (said Cameron). If Scottish independence was to have serious economic consequences for England, shouldn't we here in England also have a say in that? Sometimes we have to stop our rebellious children from taking a path that will end up harming them, but which they aren't yet mature enough to realise. But Prime Minister, are you suggesting that there is some doubt that the Scots' independence won't go ahead? My view is that we shouldn't rush into this (Cameron said). I've asked for a review to be set up to look into all of these issues. Representatives of the Scottish Government will obviously be part of that review and by summer of next year we should have a report on how best to proceed. Donnie couldn't believe the line that the Prime Minister was taking. Neither could he believe the extremely patronising words that Cameron was using. He glanced across and saw that the FM's face had turned the colour of puce. It seemed obvious that the producers of the show had set things up to have the Scottish First Minister on a live interview immediately after the Prime Minister. "I thought the British Broadcasting Corporation was supposed to be a publicly funded organisation, without bias?" Donnie asked Anthony. Anthony shrugged. "Unless I miss my guess," said Donnie. "The BBC knew what Cameron was going to say and they've set the FM up! As far as Cameron and the BBC are aware, this is the first hint that Westminster is going to make things difficult. They think that Alex Salmond is going to appear on live TV completely unprepared." It was only a matter of moments and a short VT (videotape) before the red lights blinked on the cameras to show that they were broadcasting live pictures of the First Minister. The interviewer smiled cheesily into the camera and welcomed everyone to that part of the show. Donnie had his suspicions confirmed when the anchor advised viewers that, in a break with the normal format, the second half of the show was going out to all of the UK instead of just Scotland. Salmond and the anchor were in wing-backed chairs facing each other, with cameras set up behind each of them. The anchor started the interview, getting right to the nitty-gritty. "First Minister, you've just heard the reaction of the Prime Minister to the independence referendum. Wouldn't you agree that what he says makes sense? Isn't it right that we let the rest of the UK have their say about the future of the union?" Somehow, Alex Salmond managed to keep his politician's smile painted on his face. "Glen, the Scottish people have spoken. No politician in Westminster has any legitimacy to talk about the future of Scotland anymore. We all know that what David Cameron just described there – the review – is a tactic to try and stall for time. That's not going to happen." The interviewer seemed taken aback by how in control the First Minister seemed to be. He had expected there to be more fireworks as Salmond responded to the shocking revelation that Westminster was going to oppose independence. "But doesn't the Prime Minister have a reasonable argument about the impact of independence on the rest of the UK?" he asked. "We have centuries of ties with our neighbours in England," the FM responded. "But, the Prime Minister's arguments are puerile in the extreme. The only ones who can decide on the future of Scotland are the Scots, and they have made their wishes clear!" "Are you suggesting that your government won't take part in the review?" asked the anchor, himself beginning to realise that he was not in control of where the interview was going. Salmond actually chuckled. "There will be no 'review', Glen," Salmond stated. "I can tell your viewers today that Scotland is declaring itself independent," Those words almost seemed to strike the interviewer physically and he stammered over his next question. "What ... what exactly do you mean by declaring independence?" he managed to get out. "Exactly that!" Salmond replied. "As of now we regard ourselves as an independent nation again. We will of course work with Westminster to try and make the transition easier, but I have already set a range of measures in train." "Measures?" Glen asked, still struggling to control the interview. "Yes, Glen," beamed the First Minister. "The Scots have voted for independence and I aim to deliver it. I have appointed ambassadors to all of our major partner nations and they are already on their way to begin their missions – the US, the UN, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and of course the EU. "In addition to that, I have set up links with all of the main businesses in Scotland to agree changes to how corporation tax and VAT will be collected in future – not to mention income tax and national insurance for their employees. "The pipeline from the north sea into Grangemouth has been taken under our control so that oil no longer flows over the border into England and the major oil companies are currently in discussions with my government about how the revenue from the taxes on them will come to Scotland, not the UK Treasury. I might add that we are looking to reduce the tax burden on those companies. "The Scottish fisheries protection ships have been re-tasked to protect Scotland's oil interests in the north sea from all aggressors as well as from foreign boats fishing in our territorial waters. "We are petitioning for membership of the UN and the EU. "Emergency legislation is being prepared to amend immigration rules for entry to Scotland. That will allow us to incentivise the influx of skilled labour that we have been trying to achieve for so long, but which Westminster has quashed. "Scots police forces have been ordered to secure the Faslane submarine base and all other military bases until we can reach agreement on how defence will be split with the rest of the UK. The same arrangements have been set in motion to secure the nuclear power plants. "All exports of water and food to England have been suspended while we review where Scotland's national interest lies in that area. I understand we are a net exporter to England, yet Scots are experiencing shortages." By now the anchor, Glen, was heading for meltdown. He had prepared for an interview where he basically ambushed the First Minister with the shattering news that Westminster was rebuffing independence. Instead, Salmond was setting out a coherent programme for Scotland based on UDI. "Doesn't this all sound rather provocative, First Minister?" he asked. Salmond chuckled again. "Glen, I think David Cameron alluding to the Scots as rebellious, misguided and immature children was provocative. I'm not interested in such playground spats; I'm driving forward a strategic programme that will see Scotland take her place in the league of nations." "Well let's hope for success on that front," said Glen. "That's all we have time for on the Politics Show this week. Until next week, goodbye." There were a few moments of silence before the red lights on the cameras blinked off to signify they were no longer transmitting. Alex Salmond clearly was of the same view as Donnie, that the BBC had tried to set him up. He tore the mic from his lapel and threw it across the room. Leaning across the low table, he grabbed Glen by the shirt-front. "If you ever try and do that to me again, Son, I will rip your balls off and feed them to you!" he barked. Donnie fished his phone from his pocket and turned it back on now that the interview was finished. To his surprise, it rang immediately and he heard that he had seven messages. Tuning out the FM's angry outburst, Donnie prepared to listen to the messages. The first was from Eric and it made it clear that Donnie had to call back without delay. Cutting short the other messages, Donnie speed dialled the geek. "Eric, it's Donnie. Have you been trying to get me?" "Donnie, thank fuck! Listen, all hell's breaking loose. I was watching your man Salmond on TV when my system alerts started going crazy." "What do you mean by 'all hell's breaking loose'?" Donnie asked. "It's MI5, they've already started operations to counteract what the First Minister said about Grangemouth, Faslane, the military bases and the protection of the oil fields. I think they've also set some other things in motion – I've seen briefings that look as if they've been prepared for Foreign Office staff to try and undermine anything we might try and do with foreign governments. I've also seen some dirty tricks stuff, basically blackmail against senior people in big companies to ensure they don't work with the Scottish Government." Donnie's head was swimming; it seemed as if Westminster was not going to allow Scotland to go quietly! "When you say MI5 have started operations, what do you mean?" Donnie asked. "There are troops heading to Faslane, the nuclear power plants, Grangemouth, all military bases are on red alert and the navy are sending ships to the north sea. These guys are serious!" ------- Chapter 29 Donnie ended the call from Eric and saw that Anthony Brown was watching him. The First Minister was still tearing strips off of Glen Tantur, the Politics Show anchor. "Now what do I do?" Donnie asked himself. "How can I explain knowing what Westminster is doing almost as fast as they are taking the decisions? Shit! Did Anthony overhear my conversation with Eric?" Anthony wandered over at that point. "Problems?" he asked, clearly referring to the phone call. "No, no. Nothing I can't sort out," Donnie answered. "Do you think we should try and rescue the interviewer?" Anthony looked at Glen Tantur withering under the continued verbal assault from Alex Salmond and he smiled. "No, the little shit deserves everything he gets. You saw it was well as I did – he thought he had set the First Minister up for an embarrassing interview on live TV." Donnie relaxed a little. From his comments it appeared as if Anthony hadn't overheard his conversation with Eric. "Okay, so what do I do? If I tell the First Minister that Westminster are sending in the army, what would he do? What could he do? He couldn't fight them. Probably the only option would be to complain bitterly to other world leaders. Does that change if I don't share what I know?" Donnie's internal debate ended with him coming to the conclusion that telling Alex Salmond about the army moving in would actually make no difference at all. The only outcome would be the First Minister asking where he had got his information from. "Are you staying on for the cabinet meeting?" Anthony's question interrupted Donnie's thinking. "Yes, I think it might be quite interesting given the circumstances," he replied. The BBC film and production team eventually managed to rescue Glen Tantur from the FM and they packed up their kit in record time before leaving Bute House. Having vented his anger on the journalist, the First Minister was actually in a reasonable mood. "How do you think the interview went?" he asked Donnie. "Good," Donnie responded. "Certainly a lot better than it would have gone if you hadn't known what was coming!" "Indeed, and that's thanks to you. Come on," said Salmond, "let's head through to the meeting room and join the rest of cabinet. There was a mix of expressions on the faces of the members of the SNP cabinet. Some looked grim at what Westminster was doing while others seemed to be thriving on the situation and were positively buzzing. Alex Salmond circulated amongst them as they poured themselves coffee before the meeting started. The meeting itself was actually quite disappointing for Donnie. There was little that was new to discuss, rather it was a case of each of the cabinet members giving a detailed update on what they had achieved since the night before. Things changed just as Alex Salmond was bringing the meeting to a close. Donnie watched as almost in unison the cabinet members' phones started to go off. Some had blackberry devices and these started to vibrate where they were sitting on the meeting table. In an ironic quirk, the First Minister was the only one not receiving any calls – probably because his advisers and cabinet were all in the room. Donnie could see the First Minister looking round the room at the sudden activity. He had obviously realised that what was going on couldn't be a co-incidence, but as all of the others were either talking on their phones or scrolling through messages on their hand-held devices, he didn't know what it was. The Transport Minister was the first to end his call and he immediately started a hurried explanation for the First Minister. "All of the flights carrying the people we were sending out as ambassadors have been grounded," he said in a rush. "It's clearly co-ordinated, but I've no idea where Westminster would have found the names or details of their travel arrangements." That started a series of updates, as each Minister finished their calls. "The army have moved in to seal off Faslane and all of the other military bases," said the Finance Minister. "I've got messages from four different chief executives of big companies telling me that they have been warned not to cooperate with us. The nuclear power stations have also been surrounded by army units." "Two minesweepers and a submarine have taken control of the fishery protection ships," said the Environment Minister. "I understand that the army have also taken control of the Grangemouth refinery." One after the other the Ministers explained how Westminster had moved quickly to either stop the SNP plans before they could be put into practice or to completely reverse those things that had been done. The mood in the room was one of despondency, in sharp contrast to earlier when they had all seemed to be in control and driving events. "Suggestions for how we should respond?" asked the First Minister. ------- Katie continued to stare at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. After Donnie had left she had decided to take a shower and get dressed, but that had led to a startling discovery. When Katie turned on the shower and dropped her bathrobe, she caught sight of her shoulder in the full length mirror. What she saw froze her to the spot. It was a brand, not the same as Donnie's, but definitely a brand. The shape was that of a Yew tree. Katie's thoughts went back to the 'dream' she had had the night before and she wondered whether it could possibly have been 'real'. "The dream was a dream, Katie, but it was also real. It was the best way for Fionne to speak to you. I asked him to give you one of his gifts." "You're the one I sometimes hear talking to Donnie. Are you Beira, the mother of all gods and goddesses?" "Yes, I am Beira and I watch over you just as much as I watch over Dòmhnall. You see, you have a special role to play in Dòmhnall's life. That's what I wanted to speak to you about this morning." "What gift did ... what did you call the god? Fionne? What gift did Fionne grant me?" "Run some water into the basin." Katie turned on the tap and let the sink fill up. "Look into the water, Katie." Katie did as the goddess asked and immediately gasped. Instead of simply seeing the water in the basin, she was looking at the face of a girl. The girl's large brown eyes were accentuated by heavy black eyeliner and they were set either side of a graceful nose. The girl's face was framed by straight black hair and her features and complexion suggested she might be Indian or Pakistani. "Who is she?" "Her name is Amira; she is the one that Dòmhnall met last night." "How are you doing this, how can you make her face appear like this?" Katie heard the goddess laugh, a rich and sonorous sound. "That's not my doing. You are the one that has conjured this up. "That's impossible; I didn't even know what she looked like!" "But you knew of her existence and you suspect that she is going to be important to Dòmhnall in the future. That was enough to allow your new gift to bring her to you like this." "Why will she be important for Donnie?" "You can answer that question for yourself, Katie. In fact, with the gift that Fionne has given you, you will be able to answer all of the important questions that are going to affect Dòmhnall's future path." With that final comment, Katie sensed the goddess had left her. "It's just like Donnie says; there's never a straight answer from the goddess!" Looking down at the basin, Katie saw that the image of the girl was still there. She concentrated on the girl's face while thinking of why she would be important to Donnie. It was difficult to keep the thought in her head though and maintain the link to the image appearing in the basin at that same time. Katie could see the girl's face fading in and out of focus. "Come on, Katie! Concentrate!" she told herself. Blanking everything else from her consciousness, Katie held the girl's image in the sink and concentrated on the single thought of why she would be important to Donnie. A frown suddenly flitted across the girl's face and then Katie saw the image beginning to turn. When the girl was side-on, her sleeve-less dress allowed Katie to see that she had a brand on her shoulder. The brand was in the shape of a claymore sword. At that moment something happened that caused Katie to lose the image altogether. The girl spoke. "Who are you and how are you controlling me like this?" she asked. ------- Given what had been said, the main news programmes were very quick to pick up on the interviews given by the Prime Minister and the First Minister. The constitutional crisis was the lead item on all of the channels and as always there was a seemingly endless supply of 'experts' willing to offer their views on what had been said and what the outcomes would be. Douglas McGregor watched one 'expert' and wished that Donnie was with him so that they could discuss what was said. ... if Scotland is going to be independent, then how do we work out what share of the public finance deficit should be passed on to them? I don't think that the Scottish Government has really thought this through." "But what about the revenue that the UK Treasury is taking from north sea oil?" asked the journalist. "Isn't that coming from Scotland's territorial waters?" As the day progressed, updates reported that the UK Government was taking actions to nullify what Alex Salmond had said the SNP were going to do as part of their Unilateral Declaration of Independence. The reports were all repeating the same description of events up and down Scotland over the course of the day. ... an increased number of armed troops have also been reported at Faslane submarine base and at Lossiemouth Royal Air Force base. The troops dismissed the presence of members of the police force and we can confirm that Highland Constabulary has recalled all of its officers... ... the flights all have one thing in common – they each had a passenger believed to have been appointed as a prospective ambassador by the Scottish Government. Obviously none of these people has been able to depart to try and take up that new role... ... the skippers of a number of trawlers have radioed ashore with reports that the Royal Navy have boarded and taken over command of three fishery protection vessels in the north sea... ... all approaches to the Grangemouth refinery have been closed off and patrols of armed soldiers can be seen inside the perimeter fence... ... a quite sensational confrontation between police from the Lothian and Borders force and troops from the Special Air Service here at Torness Nuclear Power Station. The SAS troops removed the police officers from the power station at gunpoint and made it clear that... In Scotland, public anger at the Westminster Government's actions resulted in spontaneous mass demonstrations in both Glasgow and Edinburgh. These were no token protests either, police estimates put the number of protesters as high as one hundred and fifty thousand. In the main these went off peacefully. Meanwhile Alex Salmond had spent most of Sunday evening giving interviews to the world's media in which he urged the international community to condemn the coalition of the Conservatives and the Lib Dems for their actions. "How can they continue to claim to be supporters of democracy and yet flout the wishes of the Scottish people as expressed through the ballot box?" he asked. "I have written to the United Nations to ask them to intervene on our behalf to end what is, in effect, Scotland being held against its will by England!" Donnie remained with the First Minister on Monday and Tuesday; with Katie now back at the Bridge-of-Allan apartment so that she could attend classes at the university. By Tuesday, it was clear to the members of the Scottish cabinet that the international community weren't going to do anything and it seemed that the UK Government was going to get its way. Donnie was feeling just as depressed as the cabinet ministers at the FM's briefing meeting, until an idea occurred to him. "Why don't we legislate?" he asked. "Legislate on what?" the FM asked. "On all of this," Donnie replied, his enthusiasm suddenly returning. "Pass legislation in the Parliament that confirms independence. Include clauses in the legislation that make it illegal to use troops to prevent us from making the changes that independence requires. Include a clause that covers tax raising powers and another to explicitly establish our ownership of the north sea oil fields. If Westminster tries to repeat what it has done in the last few days, it will be illegal." "But even emergency legislation will take weeks to pass," said one of the ministers. "What else are we going to be doing over the next few weeks?" Donnie asked. "I think the idea has merit," said the FM. "Can we sound out the other parties to see whether we would have enough votes in the parliament to pass legislation like that?" With something positive to work towards, the energy levels in the room began to rise again. The First Minister walked round the table and put his arm round Donnie's shoulder. "Good thinking once again, Donnie. Well done," he said. Donnie blushed and tried to shrug off the praise. He turned his mobile phone back on now that the meeting was ending and it range immediately. Standing up, he gave Alex Salmond an apologetic look and wandered towards the door as he answered the incoming call. "Hello?" he said. "Donnie! It's Eric; thank god I managed to reach you. Are you still with Alex Salmond?" "Yeh, why?" asked Donnie. "Listen! No arguments, I want you to stop whatever you're doing and leave the building you are in immediately! Don't stop for anything, just get out of there. Phone me when you're in the car and on the road. Get moving, NOW!" Donnie couldn't imagine what had spooked Eric so badly, but he had heard the urgency in his voice and he thought it prudent to act on it. He quickened his pace and left the meeting room. He headed along the corridor, down the stairs and passed security to get outside St Andrew's House. Donnie's car wasn't in the car park today, but was in a space controlled by a parking meter in a nearby street. Unlocking the door, Donnie got into the car and slipped his iPhone into its cradle. He hit the speed dial for Eric's number, as he pulled away from the kerb. "Hi." "Eric? It's Donnie. I'm in the car and moving. What's the panic?" he asked. "It might be better if I showed you rather than say it over the phone. Could you come here?" "Okay, I'm on my way now. How are the roads, has there been any more snow?" "There's been no more snow, but drive carefully. Oh, Donnie? Keep the radio on and listen to the news." Donnie was intrigued but he normally listened to the news while driving anyway, so he turned on the radio and started heading in the direction of Ardbrecknish. He was halfway to his destination when the normal reports were interrupted by a breaking story. ... we're going to come back to the sports report later as we break off to bring you what sounds an almost unbelievable story that's emerging from Edinburgh. I think we can cross to our political editor, Brian North. Brian? What's going on? Kirsty, I was entering St Andrew's House for a scheduled meeting with the First Minister when I saw him being escorted from the building and into the back of a waiting car. When I enquired at the security desk, I was told ... you are not going to believe this ... I was told that Alex Salmond has been arrested... Donnie almost lost control of the Polo and he had to fight to keep it on the road. Once the car was stable again, he turned up the volume to hear the rest of the report. ... at least five other ministers have also been taken into custody. Kirsty, I've spent the past thirty minutes phoning round some very senior police officers here in the Capital and none of them could shed any light on this. Clearly my calls caused a reaction though and one Chief Inspector has just returned my call to tell me that it appears as if it was officers of MI5 that have made the arrests... Eric's original phone call at last made sense to Donnie. The 'Geek' must have caught wind of MI5's plans from hacking into their IT systems and he had managed to warn him to get away from the First Minister just in case he had been arrested too. By the time Donnie arrived at Ardbrecknish, the story had grown and grown. Every single member of the Scottish Government cabinet had been picked up by MI5 it seemed. Parking the Polo, Donnie sprinted through the snow towards Eric's apartment, keen to find out what else the Geek had uncovered. "Glad you made it in one piece. I take it that you've heard the news by now," Eric greeted him. "Unbelievable!" Donnie exclaimed. "I'm guessing that you had advance warning through the MI5 systems?" "That's right," Eric confirmed. "I'm starting to think that Malloy has responsibility for everything to do with Scotland, so I saw the orders to make the arrests as soon as they went out. I'm sorry about being so dramatic, but the orders did make it clear that the arrests were to take place with immediate effect and I'd already been trying to get you for over an hour when I finally got through." "Do the orders say anything about what the arrests are for?" Donnie asked. "High treason apparently," Eric answered. "Treason? Are they mad?" Donnie spluttered. "Malloy's message makes it clear that this came from the highest levels of the UK Government," said Eric. "But that's just crazy! Every single member of the cabinet has been arrested for treason? Madness!" Eric raised an eyebrow. "It seems that the full story hasn't made the news yet," he said. "It wasn't just the members of cabinet who were arrested. It was every single Member of the Scottish Parliament who voted in favour of the referendum Bill. I suppose that's their grounds for treason. The suggestion is that actively promoting a vote for independence was treasonous in terms of the potential damage to the UK's interests." "Is there anything else that I should know?" Donnie asked. "I've got some more interesting information on Imam Asif, but it can wait until later. Donnie thanked Eric once again and went in search of his father. Douglas had finished for the day and he was relaxing with a bottle of beer in his hand. The TV news was on and Donnie could see that his father was absorbed in the sensational story of the day. "What the heck is going on?" Douglas asked Donnie, when he saw him enter the room. "Apparently everyone who voted for the referendum Bill has been arrested for treason," Donnie told him. "Eh!? You can't be serious!" Father and son shared each other's company as the news ran and ran the same report, only occasionally having anything new to add. Donnie looked at the time and then fished out his phone to call Katie and let her know where he was. Douglas' arms waving at him alerted Donnie that something else was happening and he cancelled the call. "They're going over to Downing Street. The Prime Minister is going to make a statement," Douglas advised. The image on the TV switched from the newsroom to the front door of number ten Downing Street, the Prime Minister's residence. A lectern and a bank of microphones had been set up in front of the door and a voice-over advised that the Prime Minister was expected to make a statement at any moment. The door to number ten opened and the figure of David Cameron emerged. He looked composed as he walked forward to the lectern and placed the pages of a prepared speech on it, holding them in place with one hand. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I want to make a short statement and there will be no questions." Flash after flash lit up the Prime Minister's face as the assembled press photographers snapped the pictures that would no doubt be on the front pages of the newspapers in the morning. "Today, members of our security forces carried out an operation to arrest every Member of the Scottish Parliament who voted in favour of infamous referendum Bill. "Legal advice from the Attorney General's office is crystal clear that in voting for this piece of legislation, those individual's set out to seriously harm the realm. "The proof of that serious harm is manifest in the actions that the Scottish First Minister set out on live TV on Sunday. The referendum on independence was the basis for a Unilateral Declaration of Independence. UDI was in turn followed up by attempts to cut off tax revenues to Her Majesty's Treasury, and to wrest control over north sea oil, several nuclear power stations and bases used by Her Majesty's armed forces. "The First Minister also attempted to send individual's around the world as so-called 'Ambassadors' to our friends and allies. The sole purpose and intention of those individuals was to persuade others to support the Scottish Government in its attempts to damage the United Kingdom. "Any single one of these actions could be regarded as treasonous, but taken together they represent the most outrageous attack on the sovereignty of the United Kingdom since this country was at war with Nazi Germany. "Accordingly, I authorised officers of MI5 to arrest each man and woman, the entire perfidious crowd of them, who voted for the referendum Bill, it being the first tangible evidence of their heinous crime. "I have asked for emergency legislation to be taken to our own Houses of Parliament to dissolve the Scotland Act and all the trappings of devolved power. The Westminster Government will resume responsibility for the governance of Scotland as soon as that legislation can be passed. "That is all that I have to say. Thank you." Questions were shouted at the Prime Minister from the assembled press pack, but he ignored them all as he folded the pages of notes and walked back through the door to ten Downing Street. Donnie and his father looked at each other. "He sounded very sure of what he was saying," suggested Douglas. "Is it possible that there is some substance to all this?" "Dad! That's exactly what David Cameron is hoping for – that he can put doubts in people's minds. We live in a democracy and the people of Scotland voted for independence. I for one don't see how anyone could call that treason!" Another image appeared on the TV and Donnie recognised it as the house where Beira had transported him and where the Pakistani girl had killed the men who had been attacking her. He held up his hand to silence his father so that he could hear the report. ... was released this morning without charge. Further details have now emerged of what seems to have happened inside the house. Six skinhead thugs – all of them now confirmed as having links to the British National Party – smashed their way into the house of Gurat Yakub armed with an assortment of baseball bats, a sledge-hammer and an AK47. Mr Yakub's twenty year old son, Anwar, and one of his friends were beaten to death in a frenzied attack. Mr Yakub was also beaten to death before the murderer's smashed in the door to the bedroom where Amira Yakub had fled. Somehow this nineteen year old girl managed to wrestle the AK47 rifle from her attackers and she used it to defend herself, killing all six of the attackers in the process. The Prosecutor Fiscal's office has confirmed that it is satisfied that Miss Yakub acted in self-defence in what must have been a terrifying situation for her. The senior police officer in charge of the investigation described the crime scene as the most horrendous thing he has ever had to witness and he was full of praise for Miss Yakub's actions... "Where did that happen?" Douglas asked. "Somewhere in Glasgow," Donnie answered. "Can you imagine that? Six skinheads break into your house and beat your brother and father to death in front of you. You know you're next, but you have the courage to fight back. What a warrior!" ------- Katie arrived back at the apartment after a hard day of classes. She had already checked her messages on the iPhone and knew that Donnie had gone to Ardbrecknish. The campus was full of talk of the arrests that had been made and the reports on what the UK Prime Minister had said, the politics students obviously more interested than any others. Katie was buzzing and she was disappointed her man wasn't there to talk about the momentous events. "You have other things to do, Katie. There will be plenty of time with Dòmhnall; over the next few months there are other things that you must deal with though, things that will change your life and his." Katie jumped at the voice in her head, but quickly realised it was the goddess. "Is Donnie okay?" "Dòmhnall is fine. This moment is not about him, not yet. There are things that you need to do, events that you need to set in motion. You know what to do." A set of images appeared inside Katie's head. Donnie was standing naked in a field of corn. The spot where he stood was at the centre of a crop circle and Katie saw herself standing facing him on the edge of the circle. Somehow she knew that she was at the exact point of true north. Opposite her, behind Donnie, she could see Vivien who was also naked. On her right was a girl that she thought she had seen with Vivien around the Ardbrecknish site. On her left stood the naked figure of the coloured girl that she had seen in the basin of water. "Watch and understand, Katie." The images began to move, or rather, the girls in the image began to move. Each of them walked slowly in a straight line towards Donnie until they were close enough to touch his naked body. The four naked girls reached out their hands to each other and once they were joined they took the final step that allowed them to press themselves against Donnie. Katie felt a jolt of electricity when the images in her head 'joined' with Donnie. She saw all five of the figures begin to glow brighter and brighter until they were so bright it almost hurt to 'look' at them. "This is how it must be, Katie. Each of you is strong, especially Dòmhnall, but together you will be stronger still." Somehow Katie understood exactly what the goddess meant – for once, the goddess was clear. "We are to be together in every way. That's what you mean, isn't it?" "That it is how it will be. A start needs to be made now though. Dòmhnall will resist – you know that he will – and my time with you is short. Amira needs you right now, Katie. Use your gift and take the next step on this journey." Katie felt a sudden emptiness that told her that the goddess had gone just as quickly as she had arrived. "Amira? That was the Pakistani girl's name?" Katie thought to herself. She walked to stand in front of the mirror in the sitting room. Katie focused on the mirror and brought an image of the girl to mind. She was gratified when the image appeared in the mirror, but concerned to see and feel the anguish that the girl was feeling. Katie remembered how the girl had managed to speak to her before and she concentrated hard before trying that in reverse. "What's wrong, Amira?" She saw the girl jerk in surprise and her eyes darted around as if to find where Katie's voice was coming from. "I'm inside your head, Amira. Tell me what's wrong?" "Who are you? Why are you bothering me?" "What does the brand on your shoulder mean, Amira? How did it get there? That is one of the things that bind us together. There is another thing that we will have in common." Katie projected an image of Donnie towards the girl. It was obvious that Amira recognised him and she sucked in her breath. "Who is he?" "He's my husband and the man who was willing to come to your rescue against six vicious men. He clearly didn't know how able you are at defending yourself." "He brought the rifle though. If he hadn't, I would have been raped and killed. The rifle was the thing that made the difference." "What is troubling you, Amira?" "What's troubling me? I have no family left and nowhere to go. That's what is bothering me. I cannot return to my father's house, not after what happened there. My father and brother are dead. So, I have nothing and no one." "Come to me little warrior, come and find your new family. This is where you belong now." ------- Chapter 30 The doorbell rang and Katie instinctively knew who it was. She couldn't stop herself from glancing in the mirror to see how she looked. Experience led to her peaking through the spy-hole to check who was calling and she saw Amira waiting for her ring to be answered. Opening the door, Katie didn't say a word. Instead, she stepped forward and pulled Amira into a hug. The other girl clutched at her tightly and Katie felt movement that suggested the tears had begun to flow. Her right hand rose to gently stroke Amira's hair. "A warrior you may be," Katie whispered, "but you have been wounded deeply." Katie broke the embrace, but kept one arm round Amira's waist as she guided her inside the apartment. She realised the girl had arrived with nothing other than what she was wearing and made a mental note to do something about that as soon as possible. Once the door was closed, Katie led Amira towards the bathroom. She had to let go of her completely as she began to run the bath, pouring in a generous quantity of relaxing bath foam. "They took everything I had. My brother and my dad," Amira sniffled. Katie rose and put her arms around the girl again. "We will be here for you now, we will be your family," she said soothingly. "I can feel you in my heart. I've felt it from the start. When you reached out and took control, I could feel you touch my soul," Amira managed through her tears. Katie realised that Amira was talking in rhyme and she wondered if the girl was doing it on purpose. She guessed the reference to 'taking control' had been when she had first linked with Amira and somehow managed to get her to turn so that she could see her brand. "That is how close we will all become," she answered Amira's observation. "It's a good description; we will become soul-mates. All of us. For now let me help wash away the blood and the pain." Amira stiffened in her arms. "My hands are stained blood-red, but I had to see them dead. The pain won't go away, it's been with me from that day," she rhymed. "Hush," whispered Katie. "Let me help you now." Standing back, Katie checked the water in the bath and adjusted the temperature slightly before shutting the water off. She looked at the traditional sari that Amira was wearing and began to undress her. Amira continued to cry quietly and allowed Katie to remove her clothing. As Katie removed the bright material, she couldn't help but admire Amira's exquisite beauty. Her skin was flawless and her figure was slight, but had curves in all the right places. The sari puddle on the floor and Katie slipped her hands behind Amira to unclip the plain bra that she was wearing. The girl's breasts were revealed, her nipples small and dark chocolate coloured. Katie knelt to remove Amira's panties, the other girl putting a hand on her shoulder to keep her balance as she raised one foot and then the other. A pair of simple sandals was the last thing to go and Katie took the opportunity of massaging each of Amira's feet for a moment as she took them off. Katie rose and took Amira's hand, leading her over to the bath and helping her lower herself into the water and white foaming suds. "Can you take away the pain? Can you make me whole again?" the girl asked. "Shhh," Katie urged. "Just relax and let me wash you now." Katie dropped her own housecoat and stepped into the bath, lowering herself so that she was sitting behind Amira, her legs stretching out on either side of the other girl. She took the flannel and began to gently wash the skin of Amira's back, holding her long black hair to one side to do so. Her hand moved in soothing strokes and Katie could feel Amira begin to relax. Katie leant forward and planted a series of soft kisses across Amira's shoulder and neck. The girl sighed and Katie thought the tears had stopped. She dropped the flannel into the water and let both hands begin to stroke Amira's sides, her fingers slipping over her ribs. Amira's weight shifted and she leant back against Katie's chest. Katie gathered more foam in her hands and let them glide up Amira's taut stomach until they rose to cup her breasts. She heard another sigh, one of satisfaction. "I know this should feel wrong, but your hands are soft and strong," said Amira quietly. Katie continued to wash as she caressed, gently kneading the other girl's breasts and teasing her nipples to hardness. She continued that for some time and then urged both of them to their feet so that she could wash more of Amira. Bending, Katie retrieved the flannel and used it to cover Amira's back and butt with foam. She placed the flannel on the shelf for the soap and returned to using her hands to wash the dark skin, spending a long time massaging the cheeks of Amira's ass. Squatting down, Katie scooped up more foam and let her hands trace up the other girl's trim legs. Amira widened her stance to accommodate her, but Katie stopped before she reached her sex. Standing again, Katie slipped her arms around Amira to capture her perfect breasts once more. She spent a few minutes moulding her palms to the firm orbs and swirling her fingers over the hard nipples. "Turn round for me," she whispered. Amira turned within Katie's embrace and Katie saw that she had her eyes closed and her bottom lip between her teeth. Her right hand rose to brush a few loose strands of hair aside and then to caress Amira's cheek. "Open your eyes, look at me," Katie breathed. Katie found herself looking into the deep brown eyes and registered that some of the pain seemed to have gone. She leant forward until their lips met ever so gently in a lover's kiss. Pulling back, Katie held Amira's gaze and her hands dropped to stroke her firm ass cheeks again. "You did what you had to do," she stressed. "You became the warrior that you needed to be – to avenge your family and to keep yourself alive. But you are much more than just a warrior, feel the soft, sensuous woman that is also inside you. Feel how you respond to my touch, feel the love beginning to grow and heal the pain. Let me do this for you." They kissed again, a languorous kiss, without urgency. Katie's tongue emerged to trace Amira's lips and moisten them. Her left hand pulled Amira closer and she felt their breasts press against each other. Her right hand dropped and snaked between them to press upwards to the juncture of Amira's thighs. The other girl's breath caught in her throat, but Katie felt her move her legs apart again to allow her better access. Her fingers encountered moisture, not water from the bath, but a thicker, slicker moisture altogether. Katie's fingers traced the lips of Amira's sex, gathering the slick juices as they travelled upwards to her sensitive clit. Amira's hands rose to Katie's shoulders to support herself, as she jerked at the touch on her sensitive bud. "Do you feel that? Does your response feel like that of a killer?" Katie whispered. Amira tensed at her words, but quickly relaxed again as Katie's fingers continued to work their magic on her clit. "That feels like the response of a lover to me. Reach out and feel it, embrace it, let it consume you," Katie crooned, as she sought out Amira's lips again. This kiss held more urgency and Amira's response was immediate. The girls' tongues duelled for a second and Katie could sense Amira's passion rising to a peak. She broke the kiss and pulled away, registering the disappointed look on Amira's face. "Come on," she said. "Let's dry off and finish your 'treatment' in my room." Stepping onto the bath mat, Katie grabbed one of the huge fluffy towels from the towel rail and held it open in invitation. Amira stepped lightly from the bath and felt Katie wrap the warm towel around her. Katie used the slight rubbing motion and tapping dry with the towel to keep Amira aroused. Dropping the towel, she took the other girl's hand and led her towards the bedroom. She stopped beside the bed and stooped to plant a kiss on the claymore brand on Amira's shoulder. "Warrior and generous lover," she whispered, as she straightened to kiss Amira's lips again. Pushing the exotic beauty down onto the bed, Katie lowered herself over her to maintain the kiss. Her hand rose to capture Amira's left breast and she stroked it softly as they kissed. Trailing gentle kisses across Amira's cheek and neck, Katie smiled at the groan of pleasure that escaped from the other girl's lips. She continued her journey, placing moist kisses in a line down Amira's chest as she positively worshipped the flawless skin. "I need to feel him too, is that something you can do?" moaned Amira. At the taking the girl's dark brown nipple between her lips, Katie was surprised by the question. She hadn't thought about the possibility of 'linking' with Donnie using her new gift. She ran her tongue over and around the nipple and reached out to her husband mentally. ------- Donnie was finding it difficult to sleep, his mind going over the events of the day. He also missed the comfort of being able to spoon up to Katie's butt and the security that came from having his arm holding her. "Awww, are you missing me?" Donnie sat up. "Katie? Is that you Katie?" he asked. "There's no need to shout, I'm right here. There's someone with me who wants to feel you. Can you see this? Can you feel it?" The sudden image of Katie lying naked on top of the girl from the house in Glasgow appeared in Donnie's mind. The contrast of white on brown and the fact that Katie was nursing on the other girl's breast was hugely erotic. Somehow Donnie was able to feel the electricity building between the girls. He connected with it and fed some of the strength from his own gifts to strengthen the bond. His image of the girls showed him that his actions had done something, as they both jerked as if stung. "Oh goddess, what did you do? That feels incredible!" ------- Katie felt that Donnie had done something that had ramped up her sensitivity. She had a notion that Amira had felt it too. That seemed to be confirmed by the way Amira now had her hands in Katie's hair, urging her to sink lower. She slid down Amira's body, trailing kisses as she went. The Pakistani girl was gasping every time Katie's lips touched her skin and her legs were already parted in invitation. The smell of Amira's arousal flooded Katie's senses – it was a heavy, spicy, smell – redolent of the east. Her first taste of the girl's juices had Katie hooked and she let her tongue part Amira's lips as she began to tease her to new heights. "Oooohhhhh!" groaned Amira, her hands pulling Katie's face against her pussy. Using her right hand, Katie parted the petals before her and drew her tongue over the sensitive flesh again and again. "Ooohhh, ooohhhh, yeeessssss!" Amira responded. Feeling her partner's hips rising from the bed and her hands trying to pull her mouth higher, Katie gave in and let her lips settle on Amira's already excited clit. "Aaaaaiiiieeeee!" the other girl shrieked. Katie interpreted that response as a positive one, so she used her tongue, swirling it from side to side over the sensitive bud. Quickly coating the middle finger of her right hand in the available juices, Katie slipped it inside Amira's pussy and began sawing in and out. "Oooooohh, ooohh, oohhh, ooohhh," panted Amira. Removing her mouth, Katie pressed her finger in deep and curled it to find Amira's G-spot. Her left hand now came into play, as she placed fingers on either side of Amira's clitoral hood and began a firm massage. Tapping away and rubbing Amira's pussy internally, Katie matched the timing of that with the stimulation she was giving her clit. The other girl began to buck up from the bed and her moans were becoming continuous. When she thought Amira was close, Katie dropped her mouth to her sex once more and resumed licking her little bud directly again. Amira's legs tried to snap shut, as the pleasure overwhelmed her in wave after wave. At that moment Katie sensed Donnie feeding more energy through the connection she had established with him and her own nerve endings exploded in orgasm. "Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" both girls cried out together. Katie blinked and opened her eyes, realising that she must have blacked out for a moment when her senses had been totally overloaded by what Donnie had done. Amira was limp beneath her and the connection with Donnie was gone. She retrieved a flannel and a towel from the bathroom and gently sponged her new lover clean before slipping under the duvet and spooning up behind her. Katie's left hand was under Amira's arm, cupping the other girl's breast. She focused on Donnie again and found she could make the connection much easier and quicker than last time. "Thank you, my love. That was indescribable!" she 'sent' to him. i} "It was my pleasure, believe me." "You are so in trouble this weekend, I suggest you eat well. Invite Vivien and her friend to stay at our house and I'll bring Amira with me." "Vivien and Lizzie? Are you sure?" "That is what the future holds for us, that will be the start of our family. I hope you understand what kind of weekend it's going to be." Katie laughed as she sensed Donnie experience a stab of concern. "Trust me, husband. This is right; the goddess has shown me how it will be. I promise that we'll be gentle with you ... at least the first time." ------- Archie completed the inventory of all of the weapons held in the armoury. He now had a detailed listing on the palm computer he carried and he felt sure Donnie's 'Mojo' had supplied everything that would be needed for them to defend themselves against even a large force. The actions of the UK Government had him really concerned and he had taken to heart the warning that Donnie had passed on. For those reasons, his thoughts were now turning to a training regime for everyone at the Ardbrecknish site. Besides himself, Mark Petrie and Davie Lawrence – the original security personnel – he now had a further eighteen former regular army types to call on. He thought he would need all of them if he was going to train more than two hundred others. "Okay, what should the training cover and how long will it take?" he asked himself. He constructed a list on his palm computer. Basic fitness; Working in teams; Firearms awareness; Live firing; Patrol discipline; Survival; Signalling and communications; First aid; Tactical awareness; Basic psychology of conflict; Defensive driving; Escape and evasion techniques. Reviewing what he had written, he realised it was an extensive list. "Shit! To get people anywhere near proficient is going to take a twelve to eighteen week course!" He did some quick maths in his head – fourteen squads of sixteen people each – that would probably cover all the people who would need trained. He felt that he had barely enough personnel to cope with that, but wondered if it would be better to stagger the training into several tranches. "That might be risky. The way things are going downhill, perhaps it would be better to start them all as soon as possible. The sooner we're all trained the better. I just need to use my imagination as to what order each group is trained on the various disciplines. I've got enough bodies to run the fitness, firearms, teamwork, patrolling and signalling stuff all at once. After that it's just a matter of scheduling." With those thoughts, Archie felt re-assured that the job in hand was manageable. He made a mental note to have it all worked out so that he could go through it with Donnie over the coming weekend. ------- Professor Bill White couldn't contain his joy. He lifted Heather up off the floor of silo #8 and swung her round. "Aaaaahhhh, Professor!" Heather laughed loudly. "It works! It works, everything works!" Bill chanted. When she was safely back on her feet, Heather double-checked the readings once again. They matched the predicted figures exactly. This had been the first scaled-up run of the recycling plant and the pure outputs were spot on. They had used the scrap metal left over from the building work and now they had pure iron, nickel, chrome, some carbon and a small amount of oxygen gas – this last as there must have been some rust on parts of the metal. "What should we put through it next?" asked a gleeful Bill. "Slow down, Professor!" chuckled Heather. "We need to vacuum the output containers to recover everything and the input chambers. Remember, if even a single atom of an element remains, it will take up one of the output containers on the next run." "Yes, yes, you're right, Heather. I'm getting over excited," Bill admitted. "Let's do the clean up as we should. It works though, it bloody works!" ------- Donnie lay in bed for a while after he woke, replaying the events of the night before. There was so much to consider. Somehow his beautiful wife had developed the ability to link with him and to send images. That could surely only mean that she had been called to serve one of the gods or goddesses? There was also the mystery of how Amira happened to be with Katie – how had that come about? Donnie had watched the news report on Amira's release just yesterday. How had she managed to contact his wife, meet up and end up as a lover, all in less than a day. And beyond the surprise and eroticism of seeing Katie and Amira together, there was Katie's statement about Vivien and Lizzie staying over for the weekend. She had made it clear that Donnie was to invite them and that it was not going to be a tame or platonic visit. "I would be more than content with only my nighean ruadh, but she said that the goddess has shown her that it is going to be otherwise. Four beautiful, nubile girls. Every one of them the size and shape that I adore. I hope Katie was being serious when she said they would go easy on me! "I suppose I should be feeling guilty at what's happening to me whilst all of those people have been arrested. What now for Scotland? What now for the land I love so dearly? What does Westminster have in store for us?" Rory chose that moment to jump up onto the bed, a very uncharacteristic thing for him to do. The Collie gave a single 'woof' and then nudged Donnie with his nose. "What? What are you telling me?" Donnie asked. "Am I worrying too much? Is that it?" Rory gave another 'woof' as if to agree and nudged Donnie again. "Okay, okay, I'm getting up!" Donnie laughed. After a quick shower, Donnie fed Rory and put fresh water in his dish. He had a quick bowl of cereal himself, while watching the morning TV news. There was a lot of speculation around. With no ministers to take decisions, it was feasible that things in Scotland could grind to a halt. The experts pointed out that, legally, there was no one to authorise expenditure or to authorise civil servants to take one action or another. Donnie munched on his cereal and listened to what he thought was a totally biased piece of reporting. ... some commentators are exaggerating the difficulties caused by the arrest of Scottish Ministers. We understand that Westminster departments are dealing with everything that is coming up, so claims of 'meltdown' are clearly sensationalist and likely to be coming from the SNP camp. It wasn't very long ago that this was the norm, before the restoration of the Scottish Parliament, Westminster departments dealt with much of the administration for Scotland... Donnie took from it all that nothing had broken down irretrievably and Westminster was succeeding in getting the media on its side. Donnie came to the conclusion that he would probably hear any 'breaking news' from Eric before he heard it covered on TV, so he thought it was safe to make his way to the apartment that Vivien had been allocated. He rang the door bell and had a long wait before his ring was answered. Eventually the door opened a fraction and just Vivien's head peered round it to smile at Donnie nervously. "Oh, hi, Donnie," she said, her cheeks flushing. Donnie had a flash of insight and guessed that he had interrupted Vivien and Lizzie in the middle of something. "Anything I could help you with?" he asked cheekily. "Oh, definitely," Vivien answered, unfazed by Donnie's suggestion. He laughed at her thinly veiled response. "Katie and I would like you and Lizzie to stay over this weekend," he said. Vivien's teasing smile disappeared as she digested the invitation and the different way that Donnie was talking to her and looking at her. "Stay over?" she stammered. "Yes," Donnie confirmed, with a teasing smile of his own. Vivien was so overcome by Donnie's invitation and the suggestion of what it might mean that she let the door swing open a little more to reveal that she was in fact naked. Donnie smiled. "That looks like the perfect outfit for the weekend," he leered. "I'm looking forward to it." Vivien watched him turn and walk away. She looked down and realised she had been standing naked before him and that sent a shiver through her. She closed the door and returned to Lizzie, Lizzie who seemed to have become insatiable over the last few days. "Who was it?" Lizzie asked. She was lying unashamedly naked on the bed. "It was Donnie, but at the same time it wasn't," Vivien answered. "What do you mean?" asked Lizzie. "I think our plans might be redundant," Vivien replied. "He leered at me, he was really interested. Donnie and Katie have invited us to stay over for the weekend and he told me that this might be the perfect outfit." Lizzie felt herself flush with excitement at Vivien's words. ------- Beyond Ardbrecknish, the Scottish public was still outraged at what Westminster had done. There were many national personalities willing to act as cheerleaders and that led to further mass demonstrations. There was also more organised, strategic, resistance in terms of groups who tried to block the main highways from England into Scotland. The Westminster Government couldn't rely on the Scottish police forces to deal with all of the protests, in particular those on the border, so once again troops were drafted in to deal with things. Prime Minister David Cameron wasn't waiting for the emergency legislation to retake control of Scotland before setting his plans in motion. He called a meeting of those ministers with the biggest stake and set out his plans for Scotland's immediate future. He turned to the Chancellor of the Exchequer first. "Martin, I want the Scottish budget cut by a further twenty percent with immediate effect. The fact that Scotland can afford to give their population so many free deals makes it clear that they are getting too much money." He turned to his health, education and home office ministers. "I want you to draw up plans to remove free tuition fees, free personal care for pensioners, free prescriptions and to tighten up on immigration. Squeeze local authority budgets to make it impossible to freeze local taxes. I want you ready to act as soon as we legislate to take back control. "Jeremy, I want you to look at the ancient legislation that props up a different justice system in Scotland. I want their separate legal jurisdiction dismantled and in particular I want more central control over their police services. Another thing we need to be ready to change is the legal underpinning for Scotland's separate institutions. I want a genuine UK Trades Union Congress, the removal of Scottish subsidiary committees of things like the CBI and the dismantling of all of the other frameworks that support a separate Scottish identity. "As a priority I want to see plans that safeguard the supply of water, livestock and power supplies from Scotland – we need to recognise what the priorities are in terms of where we need to direct those resources and it is not Scotland! "I need to see detailed plans that ensure we maintain the supply of oil from the north sea. I do not want to face a situation ever again where a tin-pot politician can threaten that supply. "In short, gentlemen, I want all of the levers and devices that Scotland could use to do this again removed once and for all. Is that understood?" "What are we doing with the Scottish politicians that we have in custody?" asked the Home Secretary. "I'm sure their incarceration will be a learning experience for them," laughed the Prime Minister. "We'll hang onto them until all of the main legislative changes have received Royal approval and then we can quietly release them." ------- Douglas McGregor still missed the time he spent watching the news with his son, Donnie. That didn't stop him from watching the current affairs programmes on his own and he was particularly attuned to the issues affecting farming. All of the reports he saw talked about adverse climatic conditions around the globe that were causing crop failures and low yields. You didn't have to be too bright to realise that the coming months were going to be very challenging for the UK. ------- Chapter 31 Trouble erupted over the next few days as practical issues raised their head. No one had thought through the detail of what the legal position was in terms of the civil servants who were keeping Scotland running. Scottish farmers relied heavily on grants that they received from the Scottish Government. It just so happened that September was the normal time for Scottish ministers to authorise these payments, but every minister was in custody in England. The civil service in Scotland also had an executive role in managing the National Health Service and they suddenly found themselves without anyone to sign-off on new policies. The various police forces across Scotland (of which there are eight) were still being co-ordinated by the council of chief constables, but that group found themselves in something of a dilemma. There was general agreement that what the UK Prime Minister had done was illegal, but the group was out of ideas on what they could do about it. Their sources were telling them that more changes were in the pipeline – with further budget reductions likely to be imposed by Westminster once legislation was passed to take back control. The chief constables did all that they could to maintain order, but that was becoming more difficult as the size and nature of the public demonstrations was beginning to change. The full extent of what the Westminster Government was planning was becoming clear to people and all they could see was harder times ahead. There had been food shortages and power cuts over the previous winter and all the signs were that the winter of 2012-13 was going to be even tougher. The mood of the people was growing more and more angry. Things would undoubtedly have turned violent but for a dramatic twist of events. It was late on Thursday 27 September and Donnie had gone round to spend some time with his parents. As always, his father was sitting watching the TV news, so Donnie made himself a cup of coffee and decided to keep him company. "What's happening in the world, Dad?" he asked, taking a seat. "They're going live to the Houses of Parliament for the vote on the emergency legislation to dissolve the Scotland Act," Douglas answered bitterly. Donnie could tell that his father was no happier about recent events than he was. "I still can't believe the rest of the western world is just standing by and letting them do this," said Donnie. "I thought places like the US held democracy more dearly than they seem to." The images on the TV showed the Prime Minister inside the chamber of the lower house. He was at the dispatch box, making a final contribution to the debate on the legislation. ... there can be no doubt that it is time to put an end to this dangerous folly that is called devolution. We must take back the responsibility for governing all aspects of our country again. Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland need strong and steady hands to guide them through these difficult economic times. That's why it is right to support this Bill and I commend it to the House. The Prime Minister sat down on the green leather front bench and a cacophony of voices erupted as all of the assembled Members of Parliament tried to speak at once. The Speaker was banging his gavel, trying to restore order, but was having real difficulty. Donnie and his father heard a voice-over speaking over the rabble in the chamber. "So that marks the end of a particularly bad-tempered debate, a debate which has run for over four hours now. Once the speaker manages to restore order he will call for the division – or the vote. The MPs will leave the chamber and file into one of two lobbies. If they're supporting the government they will go to the one on the left side and if they oppose the Bill, they will go to the one on the right. "And you can see that the chamber is emptying even as I speak. Normally it takes five or six minutes to complete the count and then the tellers – two from each side – will approach the bench and pass a piece of paper with the result to the Speaker. "Remember, the convention is that the result is given in terms of the 'Ayes' and the 'Nos'. The 'Ayes' will be the number of MPs who have voted to support the government. An MP can abstain by entering both lobbies to vote both 'Aye' and 'No' "The chamber is starting to fill up again now, so I don't think we'll have to wait very much longer to hear the result. Yes, there are the four tellers lining up to approach the Speaker. Let's listen to the Speaker give the figures." Donnie actually felt physically sick as he watched Westminster basically overrule the referendum vote for independence. He hadn't realised that the UK Government was also taking back power from Wales and Northern Ireland and he wondered how the people in those countries felt. "This is ridiculous," he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. Douglas nodded silently in agreement. On the TV, the four tellers approached the bench. The camera was behind them and the figure on the right of the group walked forward to hand a piece of paper to the Speaker of the House. "Order! Order! Order! The 'Ayes' to my right – two hundred and thirty two. The 'Nos' to my left – three hundred and twelve. There were seventy three abstentions and thirty three Honourable Members did not vote. I declare that the 'Nos' have it." On the TV there was once again bedlam in the House of Commons, but now of a different variety as the government had been defeated in the vote. Donnie leapt up from his seat and punched the air. "YEEESSSSSSS!" he screamed. "What?" asked a surprised Douglas. "What's happening?" Mairi hurried into the room to find out why Donnie had shouted. "Cameron has lost the vote!" Donnie cried. "He's lost the vote!" Mairi and Douglas were both looking a little bewildered at Donnie's antics. He was still dancing round the room with his hands up in the air. "Will you calm down, son, and explain what's happening. Some of us don't have a degree in politics," said Douglas. Donnie managed to control himself and he retook his seat in front of the TV. His mother and father were looking at him expectantly. "The coalition government has a majority of over eighty in the House of Commons," he began to explain. "Normally they would win an important vote very easily, but they only managed to get two hundred and thirty two. That means that an awful lot of their own supporters must have voted against them. They were defeated by eighty votes! That's a huge rebellion!" "You mean they can't take the power back to Westminster?" asked Douglas. "No, they've lost the vote so the Scotland Act remains in force!" Donnie confirmed gleefully. Donnie caught the commentator on the TV use another phrase that got him even more excited and he focused on the programme again. " ... rumours are circulating here at Westminster that the Scottish National Party has already tabled a motion of no confidence in the government. If true, this is a dramatic step. The last no confidence motion at Westminster was also initiated by the SNP, in March 1979. "That motion was also associated with the Scotland Act. When the Labour government refused to pass the Scotland Act into law in March 1979, the SNP joined with the Liberals and tabled a no confidence motion. Margaret Thatcher then tabled a similar motion on behalf of the official opposition and James Callaghan's government was defeated." "What does that mean?" Douglas asked. "It sounds as if the SNP members are out to topple the UK Government," Donnie answered. "But I thought they had all been arrested?" asked a confused Mairi. "No, Mom. Only the Members of the Scottish parliament were arrested," Donnie explained again. "The SNP also have MPs at Westminster and that's who's behind this." "But what does it mean?" Douglas asked again. "Basically the motion will be subject to a debate in the House of Commons and then there will be a vote on it – a vote just like tonight's vote. If the government loses the vote, it has to call an election." "But that's good, isn't it?" asked Mairi. Donnie leapt up and hugged his mother. "It's brilliant!" he agreed. ------- The next day's media coverage was all about the lost vote and the no confidence motion tabled by the SNP. In keeping with convention, the official opposition would have precedence if they decided to follow suit and it was likely that the Labour party would do so. Parliamentary business meant that it could be a few weeks before the motion was debated though. In complete disarray following the rebellion in the vote the night before however, the ruling coalition was reported to be falling apart. Without the support of the Lib Dems, the Conservative Party was twenty one seats short of a majority in the parliament. Political commentators were already forecasting the fall of the government. Donnie had the TV on in the kitchen and was making final preparations for Katie returning home. She had sent a text to tell him that he didn't need to drive to Bridge-of-Allan to pick her up and Donnie guessed that mean that Amira must have a car. His own planning involved preparing a meal for five and he was going to use produce from Ardbrecknish for that. It was perhaps fortunate that the dramatic political news was something of a diversion; otherwise Donnie might have been worrying throughout the day about what he faced when the girls were all together. His father helped by giving Donnie a list of all the available fresh produce they now had. Donnie was staggered at the variety of it all. He wondered about the wisdom of diversifying so much, but assumed that his father, an experience farmer, would have considered that. Donnie made his choices for the meal. "I'm thinking of a theme for the meal," he explained to his father. "I thought I would go Mexican – I just feel in the mood for spicy food. I see that you have just about everything that I'll need apart from cilanthro, but coriander will do just as well. The tricky part is going to be finding some masa but I'm going out later and I hope I can find it." Donnie gave his father a list of the things he needed and Douglas promised to have it delivered in the afternoon. Donnie himself had to make a quick trip into Glasgow to find the nixtamalised corn flour he would need and a deep-fat fryer for some of the dishes he was going to prepare. The afternoon was taken up with preparing the picadillo and other savoury fillings for tamales, gordita, burritos, enchiladas, and tacos. Donnie planned this to be a meal mainly eaten by hand - he liked the implied intimacy that came with that. The main exception would be his centre piece - Pollo Encacahautado - which was a creamy chicken dish flavoured with onion, garlic, tomatoes, chilli and thickened with unsalted peanuts. There were side dishes of various salsas, guacamole, salads and soured cream. There was rice and fried beans to prepare too. Time flew by given how busy he was and Donnie was actually surprised when he heard Katie's voice calling his name. "Donnie? Donnie? Where are you?" "I'm in the kitchen," he called his answer. Katie wandered into the room to find Donnie surrounded by an incredible array of food. She saw that his hands, shirt-front and trousers were dusted with flour. "My word!" she exclaimed. "What are you making?" "I thought we could have some Mexican food," Donnie explained. Katie was already tasting some of the mouth-watering dishes. "Oh gosh! That's hot!" she squealed. "I think we girls are going to be hot enough without all this chilli! Do you have a death wish or something?" Donnie blushed. He hadn't thought of the connotations of making so much hot and spicy food. Katie saw the blush and she laughed. "You are just too easy sometimes! Come on, wash your hands and come and get re-acquainted with Amira," she said. "I know you've met already – albeit briefly – but you have to admit that the circumstances were ... difficult." Donnie did as she suggested and even tried to brush the worst of the flour from his front. Katie led the way through to the huge lounge and there was Amira waiting patiently to meet him. "Um, hi," said Donnie, offering the exotic girl his hand. Amira ignored the hand and stepped forward to hug him tightly. "Thank you," she said in a deep sensuous voice. Donnie could feel her moulding her body to his and he knew it was going to be a long and difficult evening. "Ahem, I'm not sure what you're thanking me for," he managed to get out, "but whatever it is, it was my pleasure." "The 'thank you' is for appearing out of nowhere and giving me the chance to avenge my family and to survive. The 'thank you' is also for last night and the nights to come," said Amira. Looking over her head, Donnie could see that Katie was finding all this highly amusing. "I'll let Katie get you settled-in," he said. "I need to get back into the kitchen and finish making the food. It's really good to see you and I'm sorry for your loss." Amira looked up at him and Donnie almost lost himself in her big brown eyes. Her kiss snapped him out of it and he tasted her for the first time. Pulling away from him, Amira smiled. "You are so sweet," she said. Katie giggled as she grabbed the other girl's arm and dragged her from the room. "Come on," she said. "Let's look in my wardrobe and see if we can find something you like." Back in the kitchen making final preparations, Donnie heard Vivien and Lizzie arrive, followed by shrieks of delight as the girls shared something together in the lounge. He just had time to rush upstairs for a quick shower himself and he changed clothes before heading back downstairs. Donnie decided that Katie could help him carry the food through from the kitchen, so he stepped into the lounge to ask her. "Katie could you..." His words tapered off as he took in the sight of the girls together. They were breath-taking. Katie wore a deep green dress that accentuated her red hair and complemented her green eyes. The dress was tight and left little to the imagination as to the 34-24-34 figure that was underneath it. Amira had changed into a figure-hugging black dress that made the most of her hair, eyes and skin colour. Donnie could see a smouldering look in the brown eyes that were once again highlighted by the thick, black, eye-liner. Lizzie's brown hair was tied back in a pony-tail, which drew attention to her graceful neck and bare shoulders. If Amira's eyes were smouldering, Lizzie's blue eyes showed an intensity that would have been frightening if Donnie hadn't been connected to his gifts. The strapless top she wore sculpted itself to her breasts and her trousers looked painted on. Last but not least was his little nightingale, Vivien. Gone was the innocent, vulnerable schoolgirl and in her place there was a sultry brunette whose expression exuded lust. Vivien was wearing a white shirt that tied under her breasts and left her midriff bare. She had on black satin hot-pants that hugged her ass like a second skin. Her blue eyes were fixed on him in an almost predatory look and as he watched, she licked her lips as if in anticipation of what was to come. "Did you want me for something?" Katie giggled at his 'rabbit in the headlights' look. The other girls giggled too at the obvious effect they were having on him. "He is just too cute!" observed Lizzie. "Not cute, more buff," Vivien disagreed. "Strong, strong and protective," said Amira. "When you've all finished drooling over my husband, perhaps we could help him serve the food he has been slaving over all day?" laughed Katie. Donnie found his services were no longer required as far as the food was concerned. All of the various dishes were transported to the large dining table in short order and the girls also found the chilled juices, Mexican Sol beer and white wine he had bought. Donnie relaxed as the meal progressed and he saw just how comfortable all of the girls were with each other. It almost seemed as if they had been together for years and they anticipated each other's needs. The food proved to be a huge success and his idea of mainly eating without cutlery also had the desired effect of emphasising that this was something being 'shared'. All that changed somewhat when Donnie spoke. "So who is going to start?" Donnie asked. All conversation stopped and the girls began to look at each other with eyebrows raised. "Not that!" Donnie snorted. "I meant who is going to go first in explaining how it is that you all seem to have been called to serve the gods and goddesses." Vivien snickered, but offered to go first. "You already know about me I think," she said. "I serve Sironaidh, the goddess of healing. She chose me, I think, because of the amount of time I spent looking after my Mom and Dad. My brand is the snake wrapped around an egg. So far my gift isn't very strong, but I've been promised that it will grow once I'm married to Donnie and Katie." Vivien's mention of marriage caused another silence round the table. "What?" asked Katie. "We might as well get this out of the way. I have been called to serve the god Fionne, my brand is a Yew tree. But the mother of all gods and goddesses has also spoken to me. "It seems that we are destined to be joined together and I for one am not going to dispute that. I am ready to be with each of you as a sister-wife. "As for my service to Fionne, he appeared to me in a dream and granted me a gift. I'm still not quite sure what that gift might be, but I have been able to connect to people through a form of telepathy I think. "Why are you looking at me like that, Lizzie?" Lizzie flushed a little at having the attention drawn to her, but she answered nonetheless. "You just seem to accept the fact that we are all going to be married to each other," she said. "How can you do that?" "Because Beira showed me how it would be," Katie replied. "And that's enough?" asked Lizzie. "Of course it is enough! You need to have the courage to believe in what this family will achieve. Remember, 'S Rioghal Mo Dhream!" All of them heard Beira's voice this time. "Is that enough of an answer?" asked Katie. "Was that Beira?" asked an excited Vivien. Donnie and Katie nodded. "Neat!" said Vivien. Gradually they started eating again, the goddess' intervention on their minds. "I also serve Fionne, but my brand is that of a claymore," said Amira, breaking the silence. "Fionne appeared to me and foretold an attack on my family. He gave me the gifts of being a warrior and a poet. My mind is already made up, this man saved me, Katie has done much to make me whole again. This will be my family." "She tends to talk in rhyme when you least expect it," Katie advised the others. "Not all the time, just when she's stressed I think." All eyes were now on Amira and she returned each look with resolve until the others nodded their acceptance one by one. "Donnie saved me," Lizzie began hesitantly. "I felt safe when he held me. Vivien and I met in a dream and..." Lizzie's explanation tailed off as she remembered what had happened in the erotic dream. She shook it off and started again. "Vivien told me that we would both be married to Donnie and Katie. I serve the goddess Epona and my brand is the galloping horse, the same as Heather's actually. Epona gave me the gift of fertility..." Vivien's giggles stopped Lizzie yet again. "What?" Lizzie asked. "That explains why you've been so horny in the last few days!" giggled Vivien. Lizzie had the grace to blush at that revelation and the others laughed gently to show they found it funny, and not shameful. Lizzie was encouraged by the reaction and she decided to continue. "I was dismayed to find that my saviour was already married because I was already infatuated by him," she said. "When Vivien told me we would be together, I hoped, but I never truly believed. Now, now I'm beginning to think it might happen." Things had relaxed again and they were once more passing the various dishes between them. "You know, he's quite a good cook for a hunk," observed Vivien. That lightened the mood further. "I suppose it's only right that I explain my service too," said Donnie. Katie had heard all of this before and Vivien knew a little, but they still focused on what he had to say. "I've been told that I was born with the gift of the goddess Tailtui – which is a connection to the Earth and nature. That's the strength that I can draw on," Donnie explained. "Beira then decided to ask me to serve her and she granted me the gift of ... I've never quite been able to put it into words actually. It's like confidence or being in control, but it's more than that. "After that I met Sironaidh and she gave me the gift of healing and then Epona who gave me the same gift as Heather and Lizzie. My brand is Beira's though, a mountain with a crossed hammer." "I guess that's all of us," said Katie. A sudden 'woof' had them all looking across to Rory who was sitting up with his tongue hanging out. "Ah, how could we forget you, Rory!" said Donnie. He explained how Rory had saved first him and then Katie and that the Collie also had Beira's brand. "He came to comfort me too," added Vivien. "So now we all understand how we serve the gods and goddesses. We have heard Beira confirm that we are meant to be together," said Donnie. "Are we agreed that we are going to do this?" Katie nodded. Vivien had always believed that this would happen and she was almost playful in confirming that she agreed. Amira was quite matter of fact as she nodded and Lizzie looked as if she might hyperventilate as her head bobbed vigorously up and down. "So, it's agreed," said Katie. "I'm the one who has been shown how this will be done. Let's finish eating and then I will share it with you. That created a little tension in the room, but this time it was positive, sexual tension. For some reason Lizzie found that she couldn't eat any more. Vivien was suddenly impatient, but Katie and Amira remained composed. Donnie was linked to his gifts and that helped him stay in control too. Katie didn't let things drag on much longer, realising that there were nerves being strained. She stood and addressed the group. "Are we ready to stand before the gods and goddesses to forge our new family together?" she asked. Before anyone could reply, Donnie's mobile phone began to ring which raised a series of groans. For once, Donnie didn't answer, but instead turned the offending piece of technology off. "This is the most important thing for me, perhaps the most important thing in my life. I am committed to all of you and nothing else should be allowed to intrude," he told them. "Katie, it's time for you to share what we need to do." Katie didn't say anything, but instead led them all out of the house. She made for the dome above silo #5 and they entered using the moonlight to help them see. Earlier, Katie had arranged for a crop circle to be cut in the meadow that was growing on the surface here. "We need to strip," she informed the others, as she began removing her clothing. Marks had been made to indicate the points of the compass and when she was naked, Katie moved to stand on the spot that was due north. "Donnie, you need to stand in the centre and face me. Vivien, you should be opposite me. Lizzie, you should be on that spot to the right of me. Amira, you take the spot on my left." Donnie gulped at all of the exquisite naked girls suddenly on display. He hardened immediately and that led to one or two gulps from the girls as well. Once they were all in place, Katie told them what to do next. "Now we need to walk slowly towards Donnie in a straight line," she told them. Each of them took one step at a time as they focused on Donnie at the centre of the circle. When they were only one step away, the goddess spoke. "You should stop there. Link together now by holding hands and creating a bond that surrounds Dòmhnall. Now you will commit yourselves to Dòmhnall, each other and the task that lies before you. Repeat after me. "Our race is Royal. We have stood against the Saxons, the Norse and even against the Roman Empire we were victorious. We vow to support each other, our family and the Gregorach. "We join together in the sight of the gods and goddesses to whom we owe our service. Nothing shall come between us and no sacrifice shall be too much in the pursuit of our cause. "We vow to always steer a path for the Gregorach that will succour the weak and protect mother earth. "Individually we are strong, but together we are stronger still. We commit to one another and to the Gregorach. 'S Rioghal Mo Dhream, so let it be!" All of them had solemnly repeated Beira's words. The girls seemed to know when it was time to take the final step to envelop Donnie. The moment they touched him it was just as Katie had seen in her 'vision'. All of them felt the strong surge of sexual energy flow through them. "Feed off of their need, their arousal, Gregorach! Let it build and return it to them!" Donnie dimly heard Epona speaking to him and he let his gifts have free rein. The excitement and arousal from the girls fed Donnie's gifts and in turn, his gifts fed their pleasure and increased the energy they were giving off. It was like a continuous loop that was amplifying what the girls were feeling Donnie lifted Katie and let her sink down onto his painfully hard cock. Lubrication was not an issue, as Katie was literally dripping. The girls retained their hold on each other and Donnie realised that Amira, Vivien and Lizzie were all experiencing what he and Katie were. Each of them was surrounded by a silvery light which began to increase in intensity as the loop that Donnie had created stoked the sensations that were driving them out of their minds. Donnie was lifting Katie and letting her fall onto his rampant hardness and the other girls were huffing and moaning in time with his rhythm, feeling each thrust as Katie did. By now the silvery light was so intense that they each had their eyes shut and it felt as if they were going to explode. "Please, Donnie, please!" screamed Katie. "Pleeaassseeeee!" Katie's climax blossomed like a mushroom cloud and she was quickly followed by Lizzie, Vivien and Amira. Donnie managed to hold back his own orgasm until he knew that the girls had been satisfied and then he let go with blast after blast of his man-juice. The result was like another amplification in the loop he had created and the girls somehow responded yet again. "Aaaaaaaiiieeeeeeee!!!!!!!" they screamed. Some time later, Donnie blinked his eyes and found himself lying under a heap of the most beautiful female nakedness that could be imagined. He could feel his cock still inside Katie's pussy and he could still feel a connection to each of his girls. "Yes, Dòmhnall, they are your girls and you are their man. You have done well, young Gregorach. It was important to have this union consummated, as time is catching up with us. Enjoy being in the midst of your new family, it was my next to last gift to you." ------- Over the next few weeks Donnie and the girls got together in various combinations, but the link remained and when one experienced a climax, they all did. All of them agreed that it was awesome, and it served to forge their bond yet stronger if that was possible. Living in close proximity allowed them to find out more about each other too and that deepened their understanding and connection. "I've just noticed that your brand has patterns and images on the blade of the claymore," said Donnie, as he stroked Amira's shoulder in the aftermath of their lovemaking. "There's a rabbit near the hilt." Amira punched his shoulder. "It's not a rabbit!" she berated him. "It's a hare!" "What's the difference?" asked Donnie, rubbing his arm. "Fool! The hare is a very special animal," Amira explained. "It is the only animal unafraid of fire." Donnie was intrigued. "Is that true?" he asked. "It's certainly mythologically true," Amira answered. "The hare is so fast that it can run through fire and come out on the other side unharmed." "But why is it part of your brand?" Donnie asked. "Because I am the swiftest of warriors," Amira told him. "I am fast enough to outrun fire!" Other things also developed over the next few weeks. The phone call that Donnie hadn't answered had actually been from Anthony Brown, Alex Salmond's special advisor. When Donnie listened to Anthony's message the following day, he was elated to hear that all of those who had been arrested had been released. Eric confirmed that MI5's systems indicated that action against the so-called 'traitors' had been dropped. "Malloy is still extremely interested in you and in the Muslim population that has migrated to Scotland," Eric cautioned. "Remember that he's also got fingers in a few other pies – the troops at Torness and Grangemouth for example." "But at least Scotland has its government back!" grinned Donnie. The motion of no confidence in the Westminster Government was also a huge thing over the next few weeks. Donnie was managing to apportion his time between the girls while also spending time with the restored First Minister. He was well-placed therefore to hear the latest speculation on how things were stacking up for the coming vote. "I think Cameron is sunk," advised the FM. "The Lib Dems are all over the place – they're split between those that are seduced by being in government and those that can see the damage their reputation is suffering and what that will mean for future elections. It's too tight to call how the vote will go, but I think the smug little bastard is sunk!" Donnie could see that Alex Salmond was bitter over his arrest and that bitterness was aimed squarely at David Cameron. The no confidence debate took place on 11 October 2012. Donnie knew there had been frenzied negotiations and machinations behind the scenes as people manoeuvred for position. Politics was a cut-throat business and it didn't get much more ferocious than it was now. "Would you like to be in the public gallery for the debate and the vote?" Alex Salmond asked Donnie. "It could be a momentous occasion." Donnie had to think about his growing responsibilities, but the offer was too good to refuse. "Sure, I think I'd like that," he said. "The idea of possibly being there and seeing Cameron losing power does hold certain attractions!" Donnie paid his own plane fare and took his place in the 'Strangers Gallery' to watch the debate. When the division was called it was still touch and go due to prevarication in the Lib Dem Party, but the Conservatives lost the vote by five. Cameron would have to step down and there would now be a general election across the UK. In the following days there was a heated debate within the Scottish Nationalist Party. "We need to decide our tactics for the General Election," Alex Salmond told his cabinet. "We need to demonstrate Scotland's distain for the union," argued the Finance Minister. "We need to start a campaign to boycott the election." Voices were raised both in support and against that approach. Donnie felt strongly and decided to speak up. "We need to think about this carefully," he said. "We've just seen what Westminster can do – isn't it important to continue to back both horses here? If we boycott the elections, we are giving up any representation at Westminster and therefore any hope of influence. I would go the other way. I would actually have SNP candidates standing in seats in England – let's put up candidates in the Prime Minister's seat, in other minister's seats." Ministers looked at him and one actually stood up and applauded. "That's a fantastic idea!" cried the FM, immediately seeing the propaganda opportunities. The date for the General Election was set as 16 November 2012 and campaigning began without delay. Thanks to John for the hare (actually from the god Eastre, but adapted here). ------- Chapter 32 Campaigning in Scotland for the General elections proved to be rewarding for those representing the Scottish National Party. There had been a huge public outcry when the Ministers had been arrested and sentiment was still very much on their side. The Scots had voted in the referendum for independence and the UK Prime Minister had tried to take that away from them. Scottish voters scented blood, Conservative Party blood. There was a real sense of occasion on the day of the election. SNP activists were predicting a significant rise in the number of seats the party was going to win. Donnie remained with Alex Salmond again, putting up with the late night/early morning TV shows interviews as the results started to filter through from the various constituencies. There are 650 seats in the Westminster Parliament, fifty-nine of them in Scotland. As each result came in, it was clear that the SNP had changed the face of politics in the country. A traditional Labour party stronghold, Scotland still normally had some MPs from each of the main parties. By the time this election was fully counted, there were thirty-eight SNP Members of Parliament and twenty-one Labour. Scotland was a Conservative and Lib Dem free zone! The picture in Wales was much the same, with the Conservatives only hanging onto one seat and the Lib Dems being wiped out – mostly to the benefit of the Welsh Nationalists. Across England it was different again. The Conservatives had actually won enough seats to have an overall increase of one over their previous total, giving them 307 MPs. The Lib Dems had dropped to only 9 seats and the other big surprise was that the British National Party had gained twenty-six seats. The electorate in England had apparently heard enough whinging from the Scots and that had played in the Conservatives favour. There had also been a sharp surge in support for right-wing policies, which had benefited both the Conservatives and the BNP. The First Minister was hugely disappointed. He had hoped to gain enough seats to hold the balance of power at Westminster. His ideal outcome would have been to be able to form a coalition government with Labour, but that clearly wasn't going to happen. "This is a nightmare scenario," he told Donnie. "It's likely that the Conservatives will go into coalition with the BNP. That can't be good news for Scotland. In fact, what are the odds that I'm arrested again?" Donnie could see the potential problems ahead. If the Conservatives and the BNP did form a coalition, then there would be the ridiculous position where the UK Government did not have a single MP in Scotland. That could hardly be described as a representative government and spelled disaster in terms of future policy. "The Scottish public aren't going to accept that," said Donnie. "It's bad enough that the government will be made up of solely English MPs, but our people will not be able to stomach the idea of the fascist BNP in power." Alex Salmond nodded in agreement. "I think you're right, but the makeup of the UK Government actually helps us in a way," he said. "Any legitimate claim they might have had to have a mandate to rule in Scotland is now totally gone. Not a single MP from Scotland in the government. Westminster can now be seen for what it really is, an English Parliament." "So we'll press ahead with the legislation in the Scottish Parliament then?" Donnie asked. "Absolutely, in fact we need to try and speed it up before the English decide to do something stupid," confirmed the FM. "I was thinking about the charges of treason," said Donnie. "You've always planned that an independent Scotland would still retain the Queen as a constitutional monarch; why not ask for an audience to discuss that with her? If you're in discussions with the Queen, wouldn't it be more difficult to accuse you of treason?" The First Minister's eyes lit up with delight. "That's a great idea, Donnie! Why didn't I think of it? You're right of course; we are intending to ask the Queen to remain as Scotland's monarch. It would be entirely legitimate to ask for an audience to discuss that." ------- October and November had proven to be colder than even the previous two years and snowfall was a regular occurrence. Donnie was still keeping track of the shrinkage in the growing season and all of the figures suggested that 2012 had been shorter again. As predicted, the harvest across the UK had been extremely poor and the big supermarkets were having to pay inflated prices to import goods that they would normally have sourced at home. As a result, prices for goods on the shelves soared and in some cases items just disappeared from circulation altogether. Farmers reported that they had made significant losses for the year and were angry when their pleas for some kind of subsidy fell on deaf ears. One current affairs programme presented evidence that a record number of farmers were turning to other sources of income. They predicted a massive fall in the number of working farms across the UK. With wages frozen or being reduced, the ordinary man and woman in the street were struggling to afford even the essentials of life. The oil fields in the Middle East were still burning rather than producing barrels of oil, so the cost of electricity, gas and fuel for cars had gone through the roof. With colder weather, there was a greater demand for heating, but people didn't have enough money to pay for it. The term 'fuel poverty' was being used more and more and reports started to come in of pensioners literally dying from hypothermia. Now, with food prices rising so high, many people were really going hungry. As some of the civil servants had been predicting, the National Health Service was also running very short of money. Hospitals used up a huge amount of electricity and fuel for heating not to mention food costs for their patients. With health budgets cut significantly by the UK Government, these additional pressures meant that some things just had to be cut. Waiting times for various operations lengthened as doctors tried to reduce costs by scheduling fewer surgeries. An increase in prescription costs in England helped offset some of the costs of the drugs bill, but of course in Scotland and Wales, the devolved governments had introduced free prescriptions so that meant the health budget was being squeezed even further in those countries. The other side of the coin was that some people in England were simply not collecting their prescriptions because they couldn't afford the cost. One of the things to be cut to try and balance health budgets was the national programme of flu immunisation. There was an immediate and sad outcome from that, as a seasonal flu epidemic began to spread across the UK and the death toll began to climb. The worst hit were the elderly and those most at risk because of other conditions like asthma or heart problems. Thousands died. Donnie was receiving e-mails now from many of those who had attended the clan gathering, so he was aware that it wasn't just the UK that was suffering, similar conditions existed in the US, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. "It's difficult to blame them," Douglas observed. He was watching the evening news with Donnie and the reports were of further break-ins on supermarkets. Normally law-abiding folk were desperately trying to feed their families. "We're doing all that we can to help," said Donnie. He was referring to the programme that he had put in place to sell the extra produce from Ardbrecknish at farmer's markets. There wasn't a lot to go round though and the cheap prices had almost caused riots at several locations as crowds fought to be at the head of the queue. Donnie had quickly scrapped that idea and was now delivering fresh produce to as many schools, orphanages and local hospitals as he could supply instead. "I still don't understand why the SNP haven't taken up your approach to farming," said Douglas. "It would make a huge difference if we could see the whole of Scotland adopting it." "It's still the same old problem, Dad," Donnie sighed. "There isn't enough money for the building work or for the energy costs required to run the growing lights." "It's short-sighted if you ask me," said Douglas. "You mark my words; this is only going to get worse. When people are hungry, really hungry, then they'll do desperate things. Breaking in to the odd supermarket is going to be the least of our problems." That view was one supported by Lizzie. She had moved north to live at Ardbrecknish with her new family and they had discovered that she was a psychology major. Her expertise was in understanding how people reacted in certain circumstances and she was suggesting that people would begin to take matters into their own hands if food shortages continued. Lizzie was soaking her feet in a bowl of warm water, trying to ease the pain of the blisters she had developed after her latest fitness training session with Archie and the team she had been assigned to. "Your Dad's right," she said. "Food is a basic necessity. If people are denied it for more than a few days they will take extreme measures to stay alive." "How are your feet?" asked Donnie. "I'll survive, which is more than can be said for some," said Lizzie, with obvious reference to the food crisis and the flu epidemic. "How much longer have we got to suffer Archie's form of hell?" asked Donnie, himself fresh from rifle practice. "Another six weeks unless we get more snow and that delays things," Lizzie answered. "I still don't know why I need to learn how to be a soldier!" "If those people you're talking about decide that they can get food from here, you might be glad you know how to defend yourself," Donnie suggested. Lizzie had to consider that and realised the truth of Donnie's words. ------- Eric Black was putting the finishing touches to the next edition of the McGregor Clan newsletter. He noticed the little icon flashing at the bottom of his screen that indicated one of his 'alarms' had been triggered. Clicking on the icon, Eric saw that the alarm was from the MI5 IT system. He typed in the necessary commands to bring up his link and read the latest information. That got him reaching for his phone. "Donnie? Are you able to come by my place?" he asked. "Sure, is it urgent?" "I would say so," Eric confirmed. "Okay, I'm on my way." Ten minutes later Donnie appeared and Eric simply pointed to his screen. Donnie leaned over to read what Eric had called up. From: Malloy To: Station Heads Subject: Operation Flaming Sword Approval has been given for Operation Flaming Sword to proceed. We have responsibility for conducting the raids in Scotland. All parameters are as we have planned. Include the option for Tartan Terror. The timetable begins from 02:00 today. Please confirm operational readiness. Malloy "What is Operation Flaming Sword then?" asked Donnie. "I've seen it mentioned before, but it was in relation to those times when the army was used to deal with rioting in the English cities – you remember them?" asked Eric. The explanation puzzled Donnie. "But that was fighting between BNP activists and Muslims in places like Leeds and Preston, what has that got to do with Scotland? And why am I being included?" he asked. "If I had to guess, I'd say those operations were used as cover for something else," said Eric. "Like what?" asked Donnie. "Like maybe picking up suspected terrorists?" suggested Eric. "There's been a heck of a lot of activity on here surrounding that Imam Assam guy. They've been expending a lot of man hours keeping tabs on him and those connected to him. I think Malloy still suspects that you are connected somehow." "I think that's a bit of a reach," said Donnie. "Didn't you say before that there has been a big migration of Muslims out of England and into Scotland?" asked Eric. "Maybe some of the people who have come north have been on MI5's radar?" "It's possible I suppose," agreed Donnie. "I still don't like the fact that he's targeting me again. If he has me under observation then he knows I'm here at Ardbrecknish. That puts everyone else at risk too." Once again he was caught in a dilemma. He knew that the First Minister would be unhappy about MI5 conducting operations in Scotland without his knowledge, but he couldn't alert him without revealing that he had access to confidential information. He would also have to decide what to do about Malloy's plans to seemingly have him arrested too. "We can't tell from this when the raids are going to take place," Donnie observed. "No, but they sound pretty imminent," Eric replied. "Okay. Could you keep an eye on this and let me know if anything else comes up?" asked Donnie. Eric nodded his agreement just as Donnie's mobile phone rang. "What now?" groaned Donnie, as he fished the iPhone from his pocket. "Donnie? It's Archie." "What can I do for you, Archie?" "Nothing, I'm just calling to let you know that one of our delivery vans was attacked this afternoon." "Attacked! Are you serious?" "Very serious. Dave Lawrence was driving it and he was taking food to the Royal Alexandria Hospital. When he pulled into the delivery bay six men attacked him and drove off in the van. We've found it abandoned in Greenock, but needless to say it was empty." Donnie frowned and scratched his head. "Should we suspend any further deliveries?" he asked. "We certainly need to review what we're doing. We were lucky this time; Dave can look after himself so he's only got a few cuts and bruises. Someone else could have been badly injured." "Okay, come over to my house when you get back and we can talk about what to do," suggested Donnie. "Will do." Eric was giving Donnie a look that suggested he would like to know what was going on. "It was Archie," Donnie explained. "One of our delivery vans was attacked and the food stolen." "I guess it was only a matter of time," said Eric. "Other distributors are being attacked on a regular basis. Once people spot a pattern to food deliveries they become vulnerable. People are getting desperate out there." "Well, we'll have to think about how we have safeguard out people from now on," said Donnie. ------- Archie arrived at Donnie's house that night to discuss how they could change their approach to food deliveries to avoid any further attacks. There were a number of options to be considered, ranging from suspending the deliveries altogether through to the possibility of having armed guards accompany each delivery. "It would a real pity if we had to stop this work," said Donnie. "We are making a real difference to quite a lot of people, children in particular." "I agree," said Archie. "And in any event, if we don't donate the food to these places, what will we do with it? We've already tried to sell it on and that caused its own difficulties." "I think the option of having armed guards is going too far, I'm not even sure it would be legal," Donnie observed. "Again, I agree," said Archie. "What would happen if we actually fired on someone who tried to steal the food? No, I think there are too many potential issues with such an approach. How about working with the administrators at the schools and hospitals to introduce some variation to what we do?" "In what way?" asked Donnie. "Well, when you fall into a routine you give other people the opportunity to predict and plan an attack," Archie explained. "If we vary the times we deliver and the point we deliver to, that might make it more difficult for anyone to hit us." "But isn't that going to make it difficult for the schools and hospitals to plan how they are going to use the stuff?" asked Donnie. "Probably, but if the alternative is that they don't get anything because it's been stolen, I think they'll thole it," Archie argued. "Okay, let's go with that then," agreed Donnie. "I need to talk to you about something else." It became clear that Archie had already visited Eric before coming to see Donnie. "Is this about the MI5 thing?" he asked. "Yeh, I'm a wee bit worried about MI5 coming onto the site here to arrest me," said Donnie. "There's the armoury to worry about, but I'm sure Beira will hide it. I don't think I've got anything to worry about and I'm certainly not going to run from them. It would be best to avoid any risk here though, so I was planning on going back to Bridge-of-Allan and letting them pick me up there." "Are you sure about this?" asked Archie. "Once they pick you up, who knows what might happen to you." "Have you got any other suggestions?" asked Donnie in response. "I can't hide from them and I haven't done anything wrong, so why worry? I'll just make sure I have my legal team ready to move at a moment's notice." "I'm still just a bit uncomfortable," said Archie. "This Malloy has got a hard-on for you for some reason. I don't like it." "Let him make a fool of himself," said Donnie. "I'll file a claim for wrongful arrest or something, that should get right up his nose." ------- The expected coalition between the Conservatives and the British National Party was agreed and announced the next day. Donnie was with Alex Salmond and they were both dismayed as some of the measures included in the coalition programme were shared. "Can they be serious?" asked Donnie. "A freeze on all immigration apart from applications from selected groups. Isn't that illegal? It has to be discriminatory!" "It's aimed at coloured people – pure and simple racism!" agreed the FM. "There's nothing in here about Scotland as far as I can see," said Donnie, scanning the briefing paper. "It might not be in there, but you can bet your last dollar that Cameron will have another go at us," said Salmond. "What about this?" asked Donnie. "An immediate increase in Ministry of Defence and Police budgets to fund more troops and more officers. Where is that funding coming from? Does that mean that they are cutting something else to pay for this?" "We have been notified that our share of the budget is to be cut by a further twenty percent," said the FM. "That's part of how they're balancing the books, but not all of it. They've cut the overseas development budget right back too – can't you just see the BNP arguing that we shouldn't be giving aid to 'Johnny Foreigner'?" Donnie shook his head in disgust. "Why do they need additional troops and policemen?" he asked. "It stinks of a fascist state if you ask me." "Well, we should have our own legislation successfully through the Scottish Parliament this afternoon," said Salmond. "That will hopefully close down some of the options they have to attack us. I've also received confirmation that Her Majesty the Queen is willing to meet with me to discuss future arrangements." The door to the First Minister's office burst open and they could see his personal support staff and the head of civil service security being brushed aside by two men wearing dark suits. Alex Salmond's face darkened with sudden anger at the prospect of being arrested for the second time, but that changed to surprise when the first 'suit' spoke to Donnie. "Mr Donald McGregor?" Donnie nodded mutely. "I am arresting you under the Prevention of Terrorism Act," the suit said. "You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence." Donnie turned to the First Minister. "Could you phone my wife and ask her to set plan A in motion please?" he asked. "Of course," said Salmond. "What is this all about?" The FM's question was directed at the man who was now taking Donnie by the arm and leading him from the room. "I'm sorry, Sir. I'm not at liberty to tell you that," said the suit. The two suits (Donnie suspected that they were from MI5) escorted Donnie through the building and out through the back entrance to St Andrew's House. There was a black Ford Focus parked there with a driver sitting behind the wheel. Donnie was urged into the back seat of the car with a suit bracketing each side of him. The Focus pulled away and Donnie began guessing where he would be taken. They drove through Edinburgh, along the A8 until it joined the M8 motorway. At that point he figured that he was being taken to the high security police station in Govan, Glasgow. There was a certain irony in that, as that was the same location that Archie had met with Malloy to pass on the tips about planned terrorist attacks. Donnie could see that the driver kept glancing at him in the rear-view mirror and he wondered what that was about. Eventually, when they were halfway to Glasgow, the driver spoke up. "He's definitely a player," he said, directing his comment to the men on either side of Donnie. "He's too quiet and too calm to be anything else." Donnie realised that he had automatically linked to his gifts in order to remain in control of himself and that his calm reaction to being arrested was being taken as a sure sign that he was a trained terrorist of some kind. "What group are you with?" asked the driver. "Where were you trained?" Donnie simply smiled and remained silent. "Give it a rest, Lenny," said the suit on Donnie's right. "There will be plenty of time for questions once we get him inside." ------- Alex Salmond asked Anthony Brown to contact Katie and pass on Donnie's message. Katie was walking on the Stirling University campus, in between lectures. Donnie had explained everything of course, so the call from Anthony wasn't a complete surprise and she knew what 'plan A' meant. Donnie had already made arrangements with the legal firm that had represented them before and Katie now placed a call to them to advise them that Donnie had been arrested. "Do you know what he was arrested for?" the solicitor asked. "I was told that he was cautioned under the Prevention of Terrorism Act," she answered. "Oh dear, this might get messy then. There are rules governing how long they can keep him and what representation he's allowed. Any idea where they've taken him?" "No, I'm sorry. I've got no idea," said Katie. "Not to worry, I'll make some calls and track him down soon enough." "I want to be kept informed of everything that is going on," said Katie, as she ended the call. The remainder of her lectures passed in something of a fog and she hardly remembered driving the little run-around that Donnie had bought her back to the apartment. Katie checked the apartment phone for any messages, but there were none. It had been close to three hours since she had spoken to the solicitor and she decided she would call back to get an update on what was happening. It took a few minutes for the receptionist to connect her to the solicitor who was working on Donnie's case and at least that suggested to Katie that he was busy doing something. "Hi, it's Katie McGregor. I was just wondering how you were getting on?" she asked. "Not very well I'm afraid. I still haven't identified where they have taken your husband. All the contacts I have in the police swear that there has been no Donald McGregor arrested today. I can't explain that I'm afraid." Katie wondered whether Donnie had explained to his legal team that it was more likely that it would be MI5 that would arrest him. "Listen, would it make any difference if it was MI5 that arrested him?" she asked. "No, Mr McGregor explained that that was the likelihood, I would still expect the police to know about it." Katie began to get worried, then she had an idea and she focused on an image of Donnie in her mind. Donnie's face appeared and she could see that he was sitting in a room somewhere. "Can you hear me?" she 'asked'. "Loud and clear." Do you know where they've taken you? The legal team can't seem to be able to track you down." "I'm in Govan Police Station, currently being interrogated by the lovely Mr Malloy. Try and get my solicitor here as quickly as possible, would you?" "Of course. I'll try and contact you again in a little while. Let me give the solicitor the information on where you are." Katie broke the connection with Donnie and turned her attention back to the phone call. "Sorry about that," she said. "I've just found out that they've taken Donnie to Govan Police Station." "Can I ask how you found that out?" Katie cursed under her breath. She hadn't thought about how she would be able to explain getting the information. Thinking quickly, she came up with an alternative explanation. "I just spoke to the member of our security team who was covering Donnie today," she said. "He saw Donnie being put into a car and decided to follow." "Good, so we have a witness that can confirm that Mr McGregor was taken to Govan Police Station? That's helpful, thanks. I'll get off and make some more calls now that I know where he's being held." ------- Donnie sat silently in the interview room, keeping his link to his gifts to help him remain in control. Opposite him sat Malloy and one of the 'suits' was leaning against the wall beside the door to the room. The only words Donnie had spoken since he had been arrested were to request the opportunity to contact his solicitor. That request had been ignored and he had now been questioned for close to four hours without a break. "How much money have you given Imam Assam?" asked Malloy for perhaps the fifth time. "Why are people being trained as paramilitaries on your property in Argyll?" Donnie sighed as if bored, which seemed to really annoy Malloy. "Listen you little piece of shit, I know you're dirty!" Malloy screamed in Donnie's face. Donnie calmly wiped the flecks of spittle from his cheek, but remained silent. "Okay, again. From the top," said Malloy, trying to control himself. "What is your relationship to Alex Salmond? Is he screwing you? Is that it?" Donnie found the suggestion beneath contempt and his expression must have shown that, because Malloy suddenly lashed out with his fist, catching Donnie below his left eye and knocking him out of his chair. "He tried to grab me," Malloy told the suit. "Of course he did, Sir. I saw all of it," the suit agreed. Donnie used his gifts to remove the pain and Beira's voice sounded inside his head. "I think that we can safely say Mr Malloy will not be bothering you further after that, Dòmhnall." Donnie picked himself up and simply took his seat again. There was a knock at the door and the suit answered it. Donnie could see a police officer on the other side of the door and there was a hurried exchange before the suit gestured to Malloy to join him. Donnie wasn't sure what was going on, but the way Malloy's face was turning red with anger suggested that it was positive for him and not what Malloy had in his script. Malloy returned and once again thrust his face into Donnie's. "Can you explain how your solicitor happens to be outside demanding to see you?" he snarled. Donnie smiled in response. "The officers here have been sworn to secrecy, so no one should know you're here," Malloy growled. Donnie heard a noise at the door and he looked up to see his solicitor standing there. When the solicitor saw the livid bruise on Donnie's cheek, he turned to the police officer standing beside him. "Officer, I want a copy of the tape of what has gone on in this room since my client was brought here," he said with some menace. "It would be highly unfortunate if there were any claims that the tape was lost or damaged in any way!" The officer hurried off to comply with his request and Malloy's face turned from red to purple. The solicitor noticed, but wasn't put off in any way. "Now gentlemen, could you leave please so that I can confer with my client?" he asked, stepping aside so they could leave the interview room. "Take them both to the cells," snapped Malloy. Donnie had a moment of panic that his solicitor was going to be locked up with him. The solicitor appeared calm though, and he decided that Malloy was simply refusing to give any ground. The suit led the way to the holding cells and waited while an officer unlocked a door and let Donnie and his solicitor enter. Once the door was closed behind them, the solicitor wasted no time in finding out what had happened so far. "Have you been questioned?" "Yes," Donnie answered. "They've been at it non-stop since we arrived here." "No breaks? Any food or drink?" the solicitor asked. Donnie shook his head in the negative. "Did you ask for legal representation?" "I asked, but it was refused," said Donnie. "Did he give you that?" the solicitor asked, pointing to the bruise. "Yes, I think my refusal to answer any of his questions annoyed him a little," Donnie smiled. "Have their questions given you any idea as to why you've been arrested?" "To be honest, their questions have been all over the place," said Donnie. "If you ask me, this is just a fishing expedition. It's just like before, I haven't done anything wrong, so they can't have anything against me." "Good," said the solicitor. "Let's try and get you out of here then." He knocked on the cell door and the police officer opened it. The 'suit' was still outside and he led the way back to the interview room. Donnie sat on the same chair again and his solicitor sat beside him. Malloy went through the formalities required to put the interview on record, this time he had to plainly state his name and that he was a serving officer of MI5. Then the questions started. "What is your relationship to Alex Salmond?" Donnie glanced at his solicitor and he nodded to indicate it was okay to answer. "I'm a member of the SNP and the First Minister treats me a bit like an advisor," said Donnie. "Have you at any time advised Mr Salmond in relation to acts that might be regarded as treasonous?" asked Malloy. Donnie actually laughed and he could see that annoyed Malloy no end. The solicitor nodded again and Donnie answered. "No." "How do you know Imam Assam?" The solicitor looked puzzled at the sudden change in the direction of the questions and he was unsure as to whether he should allow Donnie to answer. Donnie had come to the conclusion that it was in fact okay to answer anything Malloy asked now that his solicitor was present, so he replied. "I don't know anyone of that name." The solicitor smiled, pleased at Donnie's response. "Mr Malloy," he asked. "Can you be clear what it is that you suspect my client of doing, or is this just a wild goose chase?" Malloy chose to ignore the question. "What were you doing in London on the afternoon of the attack on the protest march," he asked Donnie. "I believe I was actually in a meeting with the First Minister in Edinburgh that afternoon," Donnie responded. Little dribbles of spit were beginning to gather at the corners of Malloy's mouth. "Why are you training paramilitaries on your land in Argyll," he asked. "I don't believe that I am," said Donnie. I am aware that the people I employ have a rigorous fitness programme, but nothing more." The solicitor was losing patience with what he was hearing. "Mr Malloy, I'm amazed that anyone would sign an arrest warrant on the strength of what I'm hearing," he said. Malloy flinched. It was only a minor facial reaction, but the solicitor picked up on it and his face registered his surprise. "You do have an arrest warrant?" he asked. Malloy cursed and stood up, knocking his chair to the floor. Donnie watched as he pulled the door open and stomped off down the corridor. The solicitor turned to the 'suit' and repeated his question. "You do have an arrest warrant, don't you?" The suit chose to follow Malloy and Donnie and the solicitor were left on their own. A police officer came rushing along the corridor towards them, obviously alerted by Malloy and his colleague leaving the station. "Officer, is it normal practice to allow MI5 to ride roughshod over the due process of law?" asked the solicitor. "I believe your client is free to go, Sir," the officer chose to sidestep the question. "Only after I have a copy of the tape of this interview," the solicitor insisted. ------- Chapter 33 Donnie thanked the solicitor for dropping him off at the apartment and promised that he would keep in touch with regard to the proceedings they were planning to take against Malloy. "We have him on all sorts of grounds," the solicitor repeated. "What he did basically amounts to kidnapping and holding someone against their will, not to mention the physical assault which we have on tape. Believe me, Mr Malloy is in a lot of trouble." "It couldn't happen to a nicer guy," smiled Donnie, before closing the car door. He waved as the solicitor pulled away and then made his way into the apartment. Katie had something ready for him to eat, anticipating his arrival as she had connected with him off and on all afternoon. "Don't you think you should heal the bruising and the black eye now?" she laughed. Donnie laughed too. "I think I'll leave it for Vivien to heal, she'll enjoy that," he said. "You are so sweet!" exclaimed Katie. Donnie wolfed down the pork chop and mashed potatoes she had prepared. After eating, he made a few phone calls to let people know that he had been released without charge. "Archie? It's Donnie. I'm out; the solicitor is filing against Malloy for kidnapping and assault." "Assault? Were you badly hurt?" "No nothing serious. Anyway, I'll be back at Ardbrecknish tomorrow." His next call was to Anthony Brown. "Anthony? It's Donnie. Listen, I just wanted to say thanks for getting my message to Katie earlier." "Are you in some kind of trouble? The FM said that you were arrested. He's madder than a hatter after the Home Office ordered more arrests today – that wasn't what you were caught up in, was it?" "No, it was a case of mistaken identity with me and I'm back at home now. How did things go in the Parliament? Did the independence legislation go through?" "It sailed through without any problems. If Westminster tries what it did before then it will be breaking Scots law." "Good. Look I'll be back in Edinburgh on Monday. I'll see you then." Katie had been listening in. "So your legislation went through?" she asked. "Would you stop calling it my legislation!" pleaded Donnie. "Well, it was your idea," Katie teased. ------- Driving back towards Ardbrecknish, Donnie listened to the news on the radio and brought himself up to date with what else had happened the day before. More than forty people had been picked up in the MI5 raids, eight of them in Scotland and the reaction of Muslim communities up and down the UK was one of outrage. Community leaders, most of whom were normally extremely measured and moderate, were openly talking about institutional racism and of prejudice against those from a Pakistani background. Young whites were taking the arrests as confirmation that the Muslim community was breeding and supporting terrorists. Unprovoked attacks against Muslims and their property began to rise again overnight and the police seemed powerless to stop them. The escalating situation was further inflamed by injudicious comments made by several of the new British National Party politicians on national TV. " ... if they hate us so much, why don't they just go home to Pakistan?" asked one and: " ... they will never fit in with our culture, never. We should be passing legislation that makes it a legal requirement for them to speak only English, convert to Christianity and to dispense with the customs which clearly come from other countries. We should stop them claiming benefits as well – everyone knows they're sponging off the state." said another. Donnie heard both clips and was appalled that these were actually elected representatives. ------- The winter weather caused chaos again, not just in Scotland this time, but across the entire UK and beyond. Rose and Jennifer kept in contact with the few friends they had back in Iowa and it seemed that the east coast of the US was suffering just as badly. In contrast, at both the north and south pole, conditions continued to be milder than ever before and the ice caps continued to melt. Substantial chunks of ice broke away to form huge icebergs that drifted into the Arctic Ocean and began a journey that would see them reach the Atlantic before melting completely. In the run up to one of the biggest Christian festivals, Christmas, tensions between the Muslim and white communities was also leading to more and more flashpoints. Many Pakistanis found their small corner grocer shops attacked and completely emptied and several large 'cash and carry' wholesale companies were also targeted by gangs of white youths. The food shortages might have contributed to the targets that were selected, but there was no doubt that racism was also a key motive. Full-scale riots were reported in Leeds after someone threw a petrol bomb into a Church while a service was taking place and seven people were killed. The police indicated that there was some evidence that right-wing activists could have been behind the attack – as a way of stoking up the tensions – but the public leapt to the conclusion that Muslim terrorists had been behind it. Within hours a large crowd marched on Leeds Grand Mosque, hell bent on revenge. The faithful opted to defend their place of worship and a pitched battle ensued. With the police struggling to cope, troops were ordered in. To make matters worse, a power cut meant that there was no street lighting in Leeds City Centre, and under cover of darkness, various groups were able to loot and burn almost at will. In Preston, another power cut and another night of full-blown urban warfare between Muslim and white youths. Again the troops were ordered in and afterwards there were hundreds of allegations of brutality against members of the Muslim community. Douglas McGregor joined Donnie and the girls to watch the TV news now on a regular basis and all of them were concerned about the scale of the troubles across the UK. "Does is bother you that people from your background seem to be the ones that are blamed for all this?" Douglas asked Amira. The young Pakistani girl gave him a blank look in response and Donnie laughed out loud. "What? What did I say?" asked Douglas, concerned that he had made a faux pas. "Amira doesn't see herself as part of the Asian community, Dad," Donnie tried to explain. "She's as much a McGregor as the rest of us." Now it was Douglas' turn to look confused. "My great-grandfather on my mother's side was John McGregor," Amira picked up the explanation. "He was a Captain on the staff of General Gracey, Commander-in-Chief of the Pakistan Army back in the 1940s." "Oh," said Douglas, at a loss for a reply to that revelation. "That doesn't change the fact that it's wrong that the Muslims are the ones taking the blame for everything," Donnie returned to Douglas' original point. "They're being used as scapegoats to excuse the shameful behaviour of others." "That's what I was saying," agreed Douglas. "Let's face it," said Lizzie, "things are going downhill rapidly and the authorities are losing control. Food is running out, people can't afford to heat their homes – even if they could there are power cuts – the NHS is crumbling and people are dying because of a lack of medicines. We know we have struck bottom when the BNP actually have MPs in the government!" "But have we struck bottom yet?" asked Katie. "Is this as bad as it gets, or is there actually worse to come?" They all exchanged looks at that question. "I suppose the problem is that we can't control the weather," offered Vivien. "But that's where you're wrong," argued Douglas. "That's exactly what we are doing here with the silos and the pods. We've taken the weather out of the equation when it comes to growing food, and that's one of the biggest problems that the country is facing – food shortages." "But things don't seem to be as bad in Scotland," Lizzie noted. "That's relative," said Donnie. "Things are starting to get bad here too. The only thing that we are missing is the fighting between the communities. Everything else is just as bad – lack of food, power and the NHS in decline. Crime is at an all time high, with any business that might have a stock of food liable to be broken into." "Well what are you and the First Minister doing about it?" asked Douglas. "We've passed the independence legislation," said Donnie. "The First Minister has his audience with the Queen next week and if everything goes well, we plan to declare independence again early in the New Year." "What difference will independence make though?" asked Amira. "We can control the oil for a start – that should help with the costs of fuel," said Donnie. "We can also stop the flow of livestock south of the border to help with food availability, but the biggest thing is that we can have more control over raising revenue and deciding how to spend it. Hopefully we can boost the Scottish economy and lower unemployment. Having more people in work would surely be a good thing?" "We could even see the Scottish Government investing in more facilities like this one," Douglas returned to one of his favourite lines. "It would certainly be a better option than what the UK Government is doing," agreed Donnie. "Spending more on the armed forces, at the expense of other priorities, is utter madness." The discussion carried on, but Donnie rose to his feet and bid everyone goodnight. "I'm out with my squad early tomorrow," he explained. "Archie wants us to try out the new winter clothing he's managed to get hold of. I must say that I'm not looking forward to one of his hikes in this cold!" Archie's training programme was actually going very well. Most of those old enough to take part were about three-quarters of the way through the various disciplines that had to be covered. The people at Ardbrecknish had probably never been as fit in their lives. Amira's gift from Fionne ensured that she excelled in every discipline – she was a true warrior. ------- Alex Salmond had his audience with the Queen on her Balmoral Estate in the week before Christmas. The First Minister rehearsed the history of the monarchy in Scotland and assured Her Majesty that his intention was to retain a constitutional monarchy after declaring independence. Queen Elizabeth was well briefed on Scottish affairs and knew that independence was an inevitability. She remained concerned, however, about the breakup of her Kingdom and welcomed the First Minister's commitment for the future. After explaining his plans in a little more detail, including a commitment to increase the amount of funding that Scotland would provide for the Royal Household, the First Minister secured the monarch's assent to proceed. ------- Planning for the first Christmas together as a family was surprisingly easy for Donnie and the girls – made so by having so many to share the load. Menus were discussed and agreed, arrangements for when parents would visit confirmed and unanimous accord reached that there would be no over the top exchange of presents. This last was an acceptance of the state of things for people generally in the world. There was no extravagant New Year's party at Ardbrecknish either for the same reason – it just didn't feel right to be indulging in 'excess' when belts were being tightened everywhere. One thing that wasn't rationed or curtailed though was the sentiment and the bond that was growing between Donnie and his four wives. ------- Perhaps because the austerity had made Christmas a pretty miserable time for so many across the country, January did not start well. Food riots were now becoming a common occurrence in every big city and town, as the shortages grew and people starved. Produce was becoming so scarce that the big supermarkets couldn't find enough to maintain stocks. On top of that, losses from break-ins and the hold-up of their distribution lorries led to a disastrous run on their share value. Two of the largest chains went out of business virtually overnight. That news brought widespread panic – if household names like these could go under, what did that mean in terms of the availability of food in the future? It was against that backdrop that Donnie took up a position in the media centre in the basement of St Andrew's House to listen to Alex Salmond tell the assembled press that Scotland was once again declaring itself independent. "I would warn the Prime Minister of England, Wales and Northern Ireland that, if he attempts to take actions similar to those taken last year, he will now be breaking the law and we will respond accordingly. "I have authorised the deployment of armed police units to key installations and there are now check-points on all of the main cross-border routes. Units of the British Transport police have been sequestered and are now serving under the leadership of the Scottish Police Forces. "Let me repeat that this is the settled will of the Scottish people, as expressed democratically through the ballot box. The referendum in September last year showed a clear majority in favour of independence. That position was underlined in the results of the UK election in November. "We cannot continue with a government that has no single representative in Scotland, that is unsustainable. Neither can we stomach a government that shamelessly includes fascists in its ranks. "Can I finish this morning by confirming that the new independent Scotland has agreed with Her Majesty that she shall remain our constitutional monarch. The only change will be that she will henceforth be known as Queen Elizabeth the First of Scotland, as it should have been from the date of her coronation." The response from Westminster was immediate. A convoy of troops was stopped by armed Scots police at the border and there was a tense stand-off. Units based in barracks inside Scotland were also deployed to strategic locations where they too were faced down by small groups of armed police. These dramas played out live on TV news feeds and the UK Prime Minister gave his response in an address deploring the provocative actions of the Scottish Government. He vowed to oppose independence with every available means. Having witnessed what happened the previous year, the Scottish public seemed determined that the declaration of independence would stick this time. Social networks sites such as Facebook and twitter helped raise awareness and underpinned basic organisation. As a result, people mobilised, taking the day off work, and turned up to act as human shields for some of the most vital installations. At Grangemouth, a crowd of over twenty thousand camped out in front of the main gates of the refinery. At the border with England, tens of thousands more arrived to back-up the small armed police unit and stop troops from entering Scotland. Masses of ordinary folk descended on the army bases in Scotland to prevent any further deployment of those troops from there and at the air force bases, protesters cut holes in the perimeter fences and occupied the runways. In St Andrew's House, the First Minister had set up an Emergency Response Team and civil servants were constantly tracking what was going on around the country. A bank of TV screens allowed them to monitor all of the various 24-hour news channels and another screen allowed them to project key issues so that everyone could see them at a glance. Alex Salmond and Donnie were trying to take it all in. Donnie saw a young civil servant fielding a telephone call and then immediately typing something onto her computer. A new bullet point appeared on the 'key issues' screen and she turned to her team leader to also give a verbal update. "I've got reports of gunfire at Grangemouth," she said. "Who called the report in?" asked a more senior civil servant. "There's an Assistant Chief Inspector there, I've got his name here somewhere." She shuffled through some papers on her desk. "Alan Frew," she added. "Can you contact him?" ------- Grangemouth January 2013 The Commander of the small police armed response team was extremely nervous. The crowd massing round the gates to the huge refinery had to be around twenty thousand strong. Four trucks were pulled up several hundred yards away and he could see troops milling about around them. There were altogether too many people for his liking and he didn't like the odds of his team of four versus what looked like several hundred armed soldiers. To add to all of that, an Assistant Chief Inspector had arrived in a police helicopter to take overall command of the situation and the senior officer also made the Commander nervous. The ACI approached him just as the Commander noticed a black car pulling up beside the army trucks. "Three men in suits, all of them with sidearms in view," called out the police team's 'spotter'. "Call it in to the ERT in Edinburgh," ordered Alan Frew. "Who the hell are they?" asked the Commander. "No idea, but I don't like people waving guns around when there are so many people that can see them. All we need is for someone to panic and we could lose control here," observed Frew. "I don't like this many people around full stop," said the Commander. They watched as one of the suits approached the officer commanding the troops. It appeared as if a heated exchange was taking place, with the suit doing most of the shouting and finger pointing. "What is he playing at?" asked Frew. That became clear a few moments later when the officer began to bark orders at his troops and they began to line up. "It looks like they're going to advance," the Commander observed. "Call it in," ordered Frew. "Have we got a loudhailer?" The crowd began to get a bit restless as the soldiers advanced, but they seemed determined to stand their ground. The Assistant Chief Inspector let the soldiers get to about one hundred yards away and then he began shouting at them through the loudhailer. "Halt! Do not come any closer!" he barked. "This is Assistant Chief Inspector Alan Frew of the Central Scotland Police Force. Your approach to this installation is unlawful and if you proceed I will have no option but to order your arrest." With only four armed officers at his disposal, it seemed unlikely that Frew could carry out his threat, but he felt the need to warn the soldiers anyway. The army officer seemed to waver and the advancing line of soldiers did indeed come to a halt, as they waited for further instructions. The man who had shouted at the army officer started forward alone and Frew and the Commander pushed themselves forward to meet him in 'no-man's-land'. "My name is Fergus Malloy. I'm a serving officer of MI5," said Malloy, waving his identification at the two policemen. "I want you to clear these people out of the way so that Captain Ferguson and his men can secure the refinery." "I'm sorry, but you don't have any jurisdiction here any longer," advised Frew. "Haven't you heard? Scotland is now an independent country. If you do not remove yourself and order those troops back to barrack, I will arrest you." Malloy's face showed his anger. "Stop pissing around and get these people out of the way. If they're not moved in the next half hour, I will authorise the Captain and his men to advance and remove them forcibly," Malloy spat. This time he didn't wait for a reply, but turned and walked back to where the troops were standing. Frew made another attempt to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. "Listen to me you soldiers," he called out. "That man is from MI5 – that is now an English service and he has no jurisdiction here in Scotland. If you advance any further you will be breaking the law and my men will have to respond accordingly. Return to your barracks and let me deal with this civil matter." Frew could see that soldiers up and down the line were looking to their officer for leadership so he appealed to him. "Captain, I urge you to take your men back to barracks," he shouted. "This is no place for armed troops and there is nothing for you to do here. This is a civil matter and I have things under control. These are innocent civilians, exercising their right to..." He broke off and flung himself flat on the road at the sound of a gunshot. Behind him he heard screams from the huge crowd and he looked back to see what was going on. It didn't look as if anyone was hit and when he looked forward once again he could see Malloy pointing a pistol up in the air. Furious, Frew leapt to his feet and stormed forward. "Arrest that bloody idiot!" he shouted as he ran. For a moment it looked as if Malloy was going to shoot at the policeman, but two of the soldiers quickly wrestled him to the ground and took his firearm away. The Commander, only a step behind Frew, had his handcuffs out. He took control of the situation, twisting Malloy's wrist to make him flop onto his stomach and then cuffed his wrists behind his back. "Thank you," said Frew to the two soldiers. "What idiot fires a weapon when there are twenty thousand men, women and children in the area?" The officer approached and Frew extended his hand to shake. "Captain Ferguson I presume?" asked Frew. The officer nodded in confirmation. "Look, I'm sorry about all this, but my orders were to come here and secure the refinery," said Ferguson. "I'm sure there will be quite a few communication problems until the full implications of independence are worked through," said Frew sympathetically. "Would I really be breaking the law if I tried to enter the plant?" Ferguson asked. "Yes you would," confirmed Frew. "Why not take your men back to barracks and check your orders? I'll deal with this idiot!" ------- Donnie and the First Minister had watched the drama at Grangemouth unfold on the live TV feed. "That could have been a disaster," snapped a furious Salmond. "Whoever that idiot is, I want him locked up and the key thrown away!" "I thought the policeman handled it pretty well though considering," said Donnie. "You're right, he did," said the FM, still watching the TV screen. "Good, the troops seem to be getting back on board their trucks. He must have persuaded them to return to barracks." "Let's hope there are no other hot-heads around," said Donnie. "Reports of gunfire at the Border!" shouted one of the civil servants. A sudden wave of movement on one of the other TV screens drew everyone's attention and they saw the large crowd at the Border panicking. "Oh shit," whispered Donnie. He remembered what it had been like in the middle of the panicking crowd in London when he had rescued Lizzie. A line of soldiers could be seen advancing towards the Border check-point, their rifles pointed up in the air. The crowd was running away from them and it appeared as if they had fired warning shots. "Bastards!" cursed the First Minister. "I want the officer commanding that unit, I want the bastard!" The TV pictures showed the soldiers advancing on the small police armed response unit. There was no commentary and Donnie assumed that the reporter had either taken cover or had run at the same time as the crowd. Weapons were trained on the policemen and a number of soldiers moved forward to disarm them. Donnie watched as the officers were then roughly kicked to the ground with rifles still pointing at them. The crowd was still streaming northward, but bodies could be seen littering the roadway in the gap between the check-point and where the mass of stationary vehicles was parked. "Why aren't they trying to help the injured?" Donnie asked. He looked round the emergency room and could see the stunned expressions on the faces of the civil servants. A loud bang snapped Donnie's attention back to the TV and he saw a lone figure crouched behind a car with what looked like a shotgun. The figure snapped the shotgun open, obviously re-loading. Before he could snap the weapons shut again, the man was cut down by a hail of rifle fire. "Oh my god!" screamed several of the civil servants in the room. "They shot him!" said one stunned woman. "What do we do now?" asked Donnie. "There's nothing much we can do about the troops, but we can get medical support in by helicopter," Salmond replied. Someone immediately started making calls to set that in motion. "Can someone try and get me through to someone in authority within the UK Government?" asked the FM. "I take it they will have people manning COBRA?" The St Andrew's House emergency room had videoconference and telephone links to COBRA (Cabinet Office Briefing Room A – the UK crisis centre) so that actions could be co-ordinated across the UK in emergencies. A civil servant was frantically calling someone in London to try and establish communications. "They say there is no one available to take your call, Sir," the man advised. "Fools!" cried Salmond. "Can't they see that lives are at risk here?" "Sir, I'm getting reports of fighter planes above Faslane. They must be from English air force bases because the public have basically locked down all the Scottish ones." "This is getting out of hand!" screamed Salmond. "Anthony, I want to broadcast to the nation as soon as possible. If ministers in London won't speak to me, perhaps we can put pressure on them via the media." ------- The TV footage of what had happened at the Border had been broadcast live and countless thousands of Scots had seen people being trampled to death and then the brave but foolish attempt by the man to fire back at the troops. Feelings were running high. The First Minister made a TV appeal to the politicians in Westminster to recall troops in order to avoid a repeat of the tragic events at the border. "This is a time for calm, a time for talking," he said. "Deploying armed troops is a recipe for disaster and is a complete overreaction. Let us work through the handover of power sensibly." Reports came through that the troops on the Border had returned to the English side, but hadn't pulled back any further. The First Minister hoped that the worst was over and that the loss of life would bring the Prime Minister to his senses. "What happened to the man arrested at Grangemouth?" Donnie asked Anthony Brown later. He had recognised Malloy, but hadn't let on to Alex Salmond. "They had to let him go apparently," Anthony told him. "Something about due notice not having been served that MI5 have no jurisdiction in Scotland. The legal experts said that in the circumstances, his actions had to be viewed as if he still had the authority MI5 had before the declaration of independence." Donnie frowned, convinced that Malloy would turn up and cause trouble somewhere else before long. ------- The drive back to Ardbrecknish was a tiring one because of the road conditions and Donnie had to link to his gifts to stave off the worst effects. He found the house full, as Katie's mother and sister, his own parents and all of the girls had gathered together to watch and share the events of the day. Donnie was bombarded with questions about the latest position – and in particular what the Scottish Government was doing. "The First Minister has been trying to speak to his counterparts in Westminster for most of the day, but they don't want to talk," he told them. "It seems that England doesn't want to let us go!" "It's the oil," said Douglas. "They have grown so used to the revenue from the oil, that they just can't bear to let it go!" "The Scottish public certainly let them know what they think," said Donnie. "Although some paid the ultimate price I'm afraid." "We saw it," said Vivien. "We were watching on TV and we saw the soldiers firing and all those people running away. Lizzie had to lie down as she said it reminded her of the time she was nearly trampled to death." Donnie made sure to give Lizzie and extra hug when he heard that. Both sets of parents left several hours later leaving Donnie and the girls alone. They ate a meal together, still raking over the events of the day and then retired to the lounge to watch further coverage on TV. ------- The latest iceberg finished melting and delivered enough fresh water to dilute the seas to reach a tipping point. The density of the seawater was no longer enough to continue to feed the deep water sink and the 'pull' that helped direct the Gulf Stream northwards just simply stopped. Around the world, in various monitoring stations, alarms started to go off and the scientists manning the research facilities were the first to know that the Earth was moving into unfathomable territory. ------- It was getting close to the time that Donnie and the girls normally turned in. Donnie heard Beira's voice and a quick glance round the lounge told him that the others heard her too. He immediately sensed a deep sadness in the goddess, something that he had never felt before. "The last of the factors are now in place, Dòmhnall, and I'm afraid that it is almost time for me to leave you. Before I go there are some things I need to say and a final gift that I need to give you." "Go? Leave me? What do you mean goddess?" asked Donnie out loud, a note of alarm in his voice. "The time to pass-on comes even for the likes of me and those that serve me. That time is almost upon us." Vivien gasped and Lizzie burst into tears. "But you're a goddess," said Donnie, unwilling to believe what he was hearing. "Even I cannot last forever, Dòmhnall. The Earth has reached the point where she has decided humans need to be culled to restore balance to nature. I can now reveal what I have tried to prepare you for. "Within two to three months the UK and other parts of the world will be covered in snow and ice. There will be a virtual permafrost. Other parts of the world will suffer drought and will quickly turn to desert while others will experience floods and will be swampland. Last year's crops around the world will be the last for a very long time other than your own. "It will not take long after that – perhaps only days – before society will begin to break down, as people fight over the dwindling stocks of preserved foodstuff. I'm afraid Scotland will not enjoy her independence for long. Billions will starve or freeze to death around the globe, but you will be attacked by the strongest of those who survive for a time. You need to be prepared. "Dòmhnall, I have shown you how base humans can be – do not hesitate to do what you need to. Keep watching Malloy in the short term; I planned that to help you. You have everything you need here to survive indefinitely, but remember your vows – all of you – remember them well o' Gregorach! Remember too what your clan motto means! "Here is my final gift to you, Dòmhnall. I know you will figure out what it is and how best to use it. Be warned my young friend – it can be used only once. Good luck to you all." Donnie felt the goddess' touch in the place where his other gifts already resided and then she was gone, leaving a sense of emptiness. ------- Chapter 34 All thoughts of heading for bed had vanished. Donnie and the four girls sat stunned by Beira's revelations of what was to come and the fact that neither she nor any of the other gods would be around to watch over them. "What do we do now?" asked Katie. "We prepare to fight," said a stony-faced Amira, the warrior in her coming to the fore. "There has to be more than that," argued Donnie. "Why would the goddess put me through all that she has, why would she have us build all that we have here at Ardbrecknish just so that we could survive for a few extra months?" "And what about the goddess' final gift?" asked Vivien. "What did she give you?" "You heard her as well as I did," said Donnie. "She didn't explain what her gift was, a final mystery for me to solve by the sounds of things." "And you only get to use it once," Katie reminded him. "What we need is a war council," suggested Amira. "We should call together some key people and think about the things that we should be doing. The first priority has to be to ensure that we are safe here." Donnie had his head bowed and he was rubbing his eyes. When he looked up the girls could see the tears streaming down his face. "So many people," he managed to get out. "So many ... the goddess said billions would die." "And such a cruel way to go," added Katie. "Starving and freezing or perhaps killed by a rampaging mob looking for food." "All of our friends and those we work with," said Donnie, thinking about his work with the SNP. "And that little shit Malloy still causing trouble!" growled Amira. "How long do we have?" asked Vivien. "Beira said the ice-age would hit us in two or three months," said Donnie, wiping his eyes. "Amira's idea sounds like a good one, we need to get a planning team together." ------- Eric Black had been following events by partly watching the news and partly watching MI5's IT system. The hacked system had been of less help during the past few days because things had been so fast moving that communications had probably been by phone rather than e-mail. He did know that Malloy had been arrested and then freed though, because Malloy had sent a message round his section heads telling them to be careful for just that reason. There was another message that Malloy had sent that really intrigued Eric. From: Malloy To: Iron Man Subject: Code Robin Initiate Code Robin, maximum effect. Malloy "Now what the hell is Code Robin and who is 'Iron Man'?" he asked himself. As he sat in front of his computer trying to work out the cryptic message, Eric saw another message appear. From: Malloy To: Section Heads Subject: Scottish operations All freight heading into Scotland by either rail or road has been stopped with effect from 22:30 this evening. We have been tasked with disrupting supply lines into the country by sea or air. I want your plans of how you will achieve that in your sector by 13:00 tomorrow. I'm travelling back to Scotland tonight to take care of some personal business but will monitor messages and give approval for operations while mobile. Malloy "Shit," thought Eric, "they're going to try and starve us into submission. I need to let Donnie and Archie know about this." ------- Archie and Donnie read the last two messages that Malloy had sent. "I've no idea what Code Robin could be," said Archie. "The reference to 'personal business' could mean trouble though." "What do you mean?" asked Eric. He hadn't really picked up on that part of the e-mail, but instead had focused on what clearly looked like orders to plan attacks on Scotland's ports and airports. "Well, 'personal business' could mean that he bears a grudge against Donnie and that he's coming north to do something about it," Archie explained. Donnie gave Archie a sharp look while he mulled over what his head of security was suggesting. It wasn't difficult to conjure up the image of Malloy's twisted face from the interview room at Govan Police Station. "Could he be that petty as to want revenge for being beaten?" Donnie asked himself. "Of course he could. The man is unhinged mentally." "But I thought the Border was closed," said Eric. "Only the main highways," Archie responded. "There are plenty of minor roads that people can take if they want to enter the country. Even if that wasn't the case, crossing on foot would still be ridiculously easy." "So what do we do?" asked Eric. "We add it to the agenda for the planning meeting I'm organising," said Donnie tiredly. "In the meantime we should make an anonymous phone call to the police and warn them about the ports and airports." ------- He logged on at the scheduled time and checked to see if there were any messages. His pulse quickened and a surge of excitement swept through him when he saw (1) after the word inbox. Clicking on the tab, he opened up the inbox and then clicked on the message. From: Malloy To: Iron Man Subject: Code Robin Initiate Code Robin, maximum effect. Malloy "It's not before time either. I knew he wouldn't be able to resist it. Oh well, say goodbye Mr Salmond." ------- They used one of the Ardbrecknish meeting rooms to get together. Besides Donnie and the girls, Archie, Eric, Louise, Commander Wilcox, Professor White, Heather, Carol McStay and Donnie's father were all invited. Donnie had thought long and hard about how he was going to explain what the goddess had told them the night before. Eventually he remembered the occasion when the goddess herself had told him that sometimes simply telling the truth was the best solution. The only ones attending the meeting that didn't know about the goddess were his father, Professor White and Carol. Donnie therefore opened the meeting by trying to explain to them about Beira and his gifts. Douglas, Bill and Carol could see the others nodding as Donnie told about the episodes when he had been sent by the goddess to do her bidding. When Donnie had finished, Professor White and Carol sat in stunned silence, but Douglas took it all in his stride. "You know, that explains so many things that have puzzled me over the past few years, but why are you telling me now?" he asked. "Because last night the goddess gave me her final message," Donnie explained. He shared details of what Beira had told them was to come and he could see a mixture of reactions around the room. "I knew something like this was coming," said Archie. "Right from the first time I saw this place – I knew something big was heading towards us. I just didn't realise how big." "What do we do then?" asked Douglas. "As your goddess says, we have everything we need to survive right here." "This can't be just about us," argued Donnie. "Don't we have a moral obligation to try and help others survive too?" "In theory – yes," agreed Professor White, beginning to come to terms with what he was hearing. "In practical terms though there is little that we can do. "We don't produce enough food to share with any great number of people. Even if we did, how would we transport it if the country is going to be gripped by snow and ice? "And are we going to be a big enough group to even defend this place if we come under attack?" "Why don't we try and organise our thinking here a little?" suggested Donnie. "Let's note down what we know and what threats we face." There was a laptop computer on the table in front of him and it was linked to a projector that was throwing an image onto a large screen on the wall of the meeting room. Donnie began typing and the words appeared on the screen. possible attacks on ports and airports possible attack on Donnie Code Robin Malloy himself English response to independence – blocking food supplies ice-age – travel, food, fuel, other people possible attacks on Ardbrecknish clan McGregor The others looked at the growing list and Donnie began to explain each of them for those who weren't yet aware of Malloy's e-mails. "Why have you put 'clan McGregor' up as a separate entry?" Heather asked as the only non-McGregor in the room. "Sorry," apologised Donnie. "I just wonder whether, as clan chief, I have a responsibility to try and do something for other McGregors." "You've kind of put things in order of when they might happen," observed Archie. "Let's deal with them that way. "I've already made an anonymous call to the police about the possible attacks on the ports and airports. Is there anything else that we can do on those?" "I could speak to the First Minister or at least Anthony Brown," suggested Donnie. "I guess if the goddess is right about what we face in a few months time; it doesn't really matter about keeping the source a secret any longer." Archie, Eric and Louise all shook their heads. "Never reveal a source if you can help it, even if there doesn't seem any reason to keep it secret," said Archie. "There's always the possibility that there is a good reason but you're just not aware of it yet." Donnie shook his head at the convoluted logic. "Okay, I could just tell them that I received an e-mail from my imaginary friend at the Home Office – like we did the last time," he suggested. "That would be better," agreed Eric. "I could fake you up another e-mail easily enough." "As for the possible attack on you goes," said Archie, "I'll assign Dave Lawrence and Mark Petrie to be your minders from now on." Donnie nodded in reluctant acceptance of that. "Does anyone have any ideas as to what Code Robin might be?" he asked next. Ideas were bounced around. "Maybe there's a link with the attacks on the airports?" suggested Vivien. "You know, as in flight and 'Robin' being a bird. That would fit with 'maximum effect', wouldn't it?" "Could it be a play on the word?" asked Lizzie. "Could it actually mean 'robbing'? Maybe Malloy has set up plans to steal something?" "Wasn't there any other information on the system to explain what it is?" asked Katie. Eric shook his head. "No, I looked but there was no other reference to Code Robin at all." "Okay, let's leave that one for now," said Donnie. "What about Malloy? Is there anything else we can do to be prepared for him?" "It's difficult considering we don't know where he is," said Louise. "We do know he has a habit of working out of Govan Police Station," said Archie. "Perhaps we should assign someone to keep an eye on the place to see if he turns up?" That was agreed and Archie undertook to arrange it. "Okay, now we come to the much bigger issues," said Donnie, looking at his list. "I can switch resources over to canning and drying all of the surplus food we're producing," suggested Commander Wilcox. "It's not much, but at least the stuff won't go to waste and it gives you more time to work on what you might do with it." Everyone agreed that made sense. "We also have a number of pilots remember," Wilcox added, "including Louise and I here in this room. Would it be possible to get our hands on some airplanes or helicopters? That might help you distribute food." "We don't have anywhere to land a plane," said Donnie. "If the goddess is right, then we have a very large loch on our doorstep that is soon going to be frozen over," Katie pointed out. Donnie smiled at her thinking. "Do we have time to by a plane or a helicopter?" asked Carol. "I hate to say it, but if we wait a few months we might just be able to walk on to an air force base and take what we want," suggested Archie. That brought people up short. "But if everyone is already dead, the time to try and share our food will have passed," observed Katie. "I think we have to be realistic," said Commander Wilcox. "We need to focus on keeping the group we currently have here safe and well. I mean, what criteria would we use to decide who to help and who is to be left to starve?" "And what if people come here seeking refuge?" asked Donnie. "What if the people from the village just down the road come asking for food? Do we turn them away? And what about the other members of our clan?" "Can we take a break?" asked Carol. "My head is starting to hurt. There's so many things to think of." Donnie called a comfort break and they each grabbed a drink of juice or coffee. Several took the opportunity of using the toilets. When they reconvened, Archie made an interesting point. "Your comment about the village, Donnie. I've been meaning to talk to you about that," he said. "The village is all but deserted, people have already been struggling to find food and they've been gravitating towards the bigger towns and cities. So, I'm not sure that the village is going to be an issue." "As for the other clan members," said Wilcox, "how would they get here? Remember that they're spread all round the world. Logistically it would be difficult." "I still think we have to offer them the opportunity," said Donnie. "I think Eric needs to send them a message extending the invitation to come to Ardbrecknish. Given the amount of food we produce, how many more could we comfortably feed?" "Well, if that's what you want to do – I suppose it solves the problem of picking and choosing which groups to distribute food to," said Douglas. "If the other clan members come here, there won't be any surplus food. We could probably cope with four or five times as many as we currently have." "But we don't have the accommodation for that many," complained Wilcox. "We could cope," said Donnie firmly. "If it comes to it, if it's the difference between them being alive or dead, we can all put up with a little overcrowding." That seemed to finish the discussion on what to try and do with the surplus food and the clan. "You haven't put the riddle of the goddess' final gift up on the screen," Katie observed. That led to Donnie having to explain to the others about Beira's final riddle. "Have you tried to use the gift?" Heather asked. "No, the goddess made it clear that I will only be able to use it once," Donnie answered. "Didn't your Mojo give you any clues?" asked Archie. "The past few years have been littered with clues apparently," scoffed Donnie. "That's the way Beira works. She did say that she was sure I would work it out." All of them had their own ideas as to what the gift could be, but none of them struck Donnie as being accurate. ------- Donnie made the journey into Edinburgh again, braving the wintry conditions. Eric had faked another e-mail from the Home Office and Donnie was on his way to see Alex Salmond in an attempt to underline the importance of the warning about possible attacks on the ports and airports. The First Minister was at Bute House, preparing for a cabinet meeting. Donnie hated trying to get to the official residence, as parking in Edinburgh City Centre was always problematic. He eventually opted to park in one of the large multi-storey car parks and walked the half-mile or so back to Bute House. He managed to catch Alex Salmond before the cabinet meeting began. The FM was with Anthony Brown, a number of civil servants and other advisors having a last-minute check on the agenda for the meeting. "Is it possible to have a brief word, Alex?" Donnie asked. "Of course, just give me a minute to finish this," the FM replied. ------- He watched the First Minister surrounded by his advisors. It would be so easy to do it now. He could even take out the upstart prodigy McGregor at the same time, now that would be sweet. "No, not yet. This is not the moment. Malloy asked for maximum effect and I'm sure I can do better than this." ------- "Sorry about that," said the FM, turning his attention to Donnie. "What can I do for you?" "It's more a case of what I can do for you," said Donnie. He handed over a copy of the fake e-mail and watched as the FM and Anthony Brown quickly scanned what it said. "Is this the same guy who warned you about Westminster's response to the first declaration of independence?" asked Anthony. Donnie nodded in confirmation. "The ports and airports are already on maximum alert," noted the FM. "It won't do any harm to give them another warning though. Could you organise that?" The question was directed at Anthony and the advisor indicated he would see that it was done. "Any progress with England?" Donnie asked now that his 'errand' was out of the way. "I'm relieved that there haven't been any further attempts at military intervention," Salmond replied, "but it's disappointing that none of the UK ministers is willing to open dialogue on the transfer of power from Westminster back to Scotland." "I suppose all we can do is wait," Donnie sympathised. "I hope that commonsense will prevail after the initial petulant response," said the FM. "They are politicians after all and you would think they'd recognise reality and get on with things. It appears as if the sulk is going to last longer than just a few days." ------- Malloy chose an extremely roundabout route to make his way to Ardbrecknish. From Carlisle he took the A7, A72, A702, A721, and eventually joined the M74 motorway just south of Glasgow. Some of the minor roads had been pretty hairy given the snow, but he had survived in one piece. From Glasgow he followed the same route that Donnie normally took. Driving through the village, Malloy noticed something different from the last time he had met up with the team who were watching the McGregor site, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The operating base for his team was a small cottage just outside the village. It was far enough away from the locals to avoid casual visitors and close enough to the hide that was being used to carry out the surveillance that his men were in little danger of being spotted coming and going. Parking behind the cottage, Malloy entered without knocking and walked through to the poky lounge. The member of the team who was off watch had been expecting him after an earlier call and he gestured for Malloy to take a seat. "I noticed something different about the village," said Malloy, as he collapsed into a comfortable armchair. "It's virtually deserted," the operative replied. "Ran out of food I think." "That's it!" exclaimed Malloy. "The streets were deserted." "It's kind of spooky actually, almost like a ghost town." "Is Tartan Terror at home?" Malloy asked. "He drove off around lunchtime and we haven't seen him since. There's still plenty of things to see though – more training going on. It's almost like he's training up his own private army." "Have you been able to get in for a closer look?" "Too risky," said the operative. "He's got patrols out and they're extremely professional. They're using random routes and timings so it would be very easy to find ourselves walking straight into one." "That's a pity; I would really like to have more information on the lay-out – particularly in relation to TT himself. I guess I'll just have to find a different way to take him out," said Malloy. "Are you serious? You're going to target him?" asked the operative. "Will you get approval for that?" "You let me worry about approval, you can provide me with your detailed logs of his coming and goings – is there any pattern? Does he have an escort? Is he likely to be armed? What can you give me?" ------- Three separate MI5 operatives were running small teams of SAS men and they had them in position around Scotland's three biggest airports – Glasgow, Glasgow (Prestwick) and Edinburgh. The SAS' job was to 'paint' targets with a laser that would then be used by the smart bomb guidance systems of the RAF Tornadoes that were standing by, waiting for the order to scramble. Glasgow was easy, as the team simply took a room in one of the hotels that overlooked the airport and they could use their laser from there. Edinburgh was slightly trickier, but the team was willing to take a risk and they entered the terminal building where they could see their target from the observation gallery. With the laser concealed inside a bag, they would manage well enough. Prestwick was trickier still, as there was nothing overlooking the airport. The team had to make do with renting a large van and parking alongside the perimeter fence. By 19:15 they were in position and they signalled their MI5 'handlers' that everything was set to go. ------- Eric was monitoring the MI5 system and saw the reports coming in to Malloy confirming that each section head was ready to go once he gave the order. He immediately grabbed his phone and tried to reach Donnie. His call bounced through to Donnie's voice-mail and he left a message. Eric wasn't to know it, but at that moment Malloy was using his laptop with a 3G card to access his messages. As Eric sat staring at the screen of his PC, waiting for Donnie to call, a message from Malloy popped up on the MI5 system. To: Section Heads From: Malloy Subject: Scotland Strike! Malloy "Shit!" Eric cursed aloud. He still wasn't sure what Malloy and his cronies were planning, but it looked as if he was going to be too late to stop it. ------- Three separate teams received their orders and turned on the lasers to 'paint' the targets for the Tornado GR4 Bombers that were already streaking towards Scotland from RAF Marham. After MI5 planning the attacks and the SAS risking their troopers on the ground with the lasers, inter-service rivalry reared its head as the RAF decided to go with its own plan. Each Tornado aircraft carried four Storm Shadow missiles. The Storm Shadow was a 'fire and forget' missile and these had been programmed before take-off meaning the laser guidance from the ground wasn't required. Two tornadoes hugged the west coast of Scotland and fired their missiles while they were still one hundred kilometres from Glasgow Airport and Prestwick Airport. The other did exactly the same, but on the east coast as it was targeting Edinburgh. In each case, the SAS teams had no warning, as the huge cruise missiles 'bunted' above the airports and then fell to blow huge craters in the runways. There would be no air traffic into or out of Scotland for quite some time. ------- Donnie was in the VW Polo on his way back to the girls. He was debating with himself whether he should trade-up for a four-wheel drive vehicle - for safety if nothing else. There was so much snow that even his normally reliable Polo was sometimes struggling to cope. The radio was tuned to Radio Scotland as usual, but Donnie was trying to blank out the litany of depressing reports. So far he had heard about an increase in the death rate from flu, more rioting in England – both food riots and race riots – the risk of the UK defaulting on its debt repayments (with comparisons to Greece, Ireland, Portugal and Spain), as well as the ongoing constitutional crisis. A change in the tone of the reporter broke-in to his concentration on the road, however, and he reached forward to turn up the volume. " ... based on the extensive damage to the runways at all three airports, experts are suggesting that the most likely cause of the explosions would be Storm Shadow cruise missiles launched by aircraft from the RAF. "A spokesman for the Scottish Government has called this nothing short of an act of war on Scotland, ordered by English ministers. So far there have been no reports of casualties, but obviously there is chaos, with passengers stranded at Glasgow, Prestwick and Edinburgh. There are of course many more passengers on flights from other countries due to land in Scotland who will also have their travel disrupted. "BBC Scotland can also reveal that there have been sightings of Royal Navy ships appearing to blockade the Firth of Forth and the Firth of Clyde, stopping all commercial shipping from approaching ports." Donnie's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, as he tried to control his anger. Despite getting a warning to the First Minister, he hadn't managed to stop Scotland's ports and airports being all but closed down. Donnie seethed at what was happening, despite knowing what was to come in a few months. His plan to try and gather more members of the clan had probably just been dealt a severe blow – how would they manage to get to Scotland now? It was unclear just how badly damaged the airports were, but it sounded bad. Arriving at Ardbrecknish, Donnie parked and hurried indoors out of the cold. Once again his parents and Katie's were visiting and the extended family was gathered round the huge plasma TV. "Donnie!" cried Katie. "Have you heard?" "The airports?" Donnie asked. "Yes, look at the state of the runways!" Donnie looked at the TV and saw the huge craters for the first time. He was no expert, but the damage seemed extensive. As the footage cycled through images at all three airports he could see that each of them had four distinct hits spaced out along the length of the runways. "How long is it going to take them to repair that?" he thought aloud. "I think we're talking months," said his father. "If you look closely at the pictures, you can see that it's not just the craters – there are fractures all along the length of the runways, so they probably need to be completely re-laid." Katie sensed that Donnie was really annoyed. "I know it's bad, but no one was hurt," she said. Why are so angry?" "It stops the other members of Clan McGregor coming to Scotland," Donnie explained. "Oh!" said Katie, realising the truth of what he was saying. "You sit and relax; I'll get you something to eat." Katie fetched a tray with a plate of good old-fashioned mince and tatties. Donnie picked at the food, his mood affecting his appetite. He vaguely registered the voice-over saying that the channel was crossing for a live link-up with the First Minister and snapped his focus back to the screen. "Good evening fellow Scots. I want to start by thanking you all for the unprecedented and spontaneous support that you have shown by taking to the streets. You have sent a very clear signal to England, to the world, that you are determined to secure what you voted for – independence! "Today we were subjected to another..." On the screen, the First Minister's expression suddenly turned pained and he stopped speaking. Donnie heard screams and several people shouting in the background. When the camera-shot pulled back, he saw a vivid red stain on the chest of Alex Salmond's white shirt and an image of a red-breasted Robin came to mind. The camera panned round to show a scuffle in progress. Two men were grappling with a third and a pistol lay on the floor. Donnie gasped as he recognised the face of Anthony Brown below the two burly security men. The images flickered off, to be replaced by a recorded image and Donnie guessed that a faceless producer somewhere had elected to spare the public any further drama. A voice-over apologised for the loss of live pictures. Donnie could see confusion on the faces around him in the lounge. "What happened?" asked Vivien. Her question brought blank looks from virtually everybody apart from one, Amira. "He shot the First Minister," she told them all. "NO!" exclaimed Mairi McGregor. "Why? No, that can't be true!" cried Vivien. Donnie remembered the phrase from Malloy's e-mail – maximum effect – shooting the First Minister live on TV would certainly qualify for that. He felt his stomach heaving and dumped the food tray to one side as he made a dash for the ground-floor bathroom. The extended family stayed up late, waiting for the TV to bring them news of what was going on. After being violently sick, Donnie returned and used his mobile to call SNP ministers to try and get any insider information that he could. Ending one of those calls, he turned to the others with a grim expression. "The First Minister was rushed to the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, but was pronounced dead on arrival," he intoned sadly. All conversation in the lounge stopped. "The First Minister's special advisor, Anthony Brown, has been charged with murder," Donnie added. ------- The next morning Donnie and the girls shuffled round, still shocked at the events of the night before. The TV was reporting the arrangements for covering the loss of the First Minister. "I'm still thinking that this is all a nightmare and that I'm going to wake up," said Katie. I'm numb as well," said Donnie. "Why are you rushing through breakfast?" Katie asked. "I need to take a run into Glasgow to meet some party members," he said. "Is it meltdown?" she asked. "Worse," Donnie replied. He hadn't been fully honest. Donnie had decided that the link into the MI5 system had to be explained so that he could hand over the evidence of the UK's role in Alex Salmond's assassination. He headed out and found Rory at his heel. "Stay here, boy," Donnie told the Collie. When he opened the door, Rory refused to stay in. Donnie shrugged and factored in having the dog with him for the trip into Glasgow. "Okay, okay, you can come. Just behave!" he warned. Opening the door of the Polo, Donnie let Rory leap into the back seat before climbing in himself. He started the car and headed off. ------- Malloy's agent alerted him that Donnie was getting ready to leave the site. He rushed from the cottage and headed for the point above the road he had picked out. Throwing himself flat, he pulled out the L115A3 sniper's rifle from its case and made sure again that there was an 8.59mm cartridge already loaded. He saw the car heading towards him and settled his breathing as he looked through the 'scope. He took up the fractional slack in the trigger. Malloy let the Polo get to within three hundred yards. He could see Donnie's head squarely in the sights and then he tightened the pressure and pulled the trigger to take the shot. ------- Donnie was focused on the road, but Rory had other ideas. As he headed down the road, the Collie raised his head behind Donnie's headrest and barked loudly. "Shit!" screamed Donnie in surprise, as he jerked his head away from the sudden loud noise. At the same time, the Polo's windscreen shattered as the high calibre bullet passed through it and missed Donnie by millimetres. Instinctively, he slammed on the brakes and threw himself below the level of the windscreen. Rory barked again and leapt into the front seat and then through the now empty windscreen. ------- The crack of the sniper's rifle reached Donnie's house and one person recognised it for what it was. Amira dropped her coffee cup and sprinted incredibly fast for the door. Once outside, she heard a distant bark and sprinted in the direction it came from. The Pakistani girl's movement was a blur, as she hurtled down the road. Within seconds she was past the Polo, past Dave and Mark who were following as Donnie's security, and she ran almost in Rory's tracks in the snow. She burst through a screen of trees and found Rory trying to maul a man who was on his back. Amira didn't hesitate, she continued running forward and planted her full weight on her right foot as it slammed down on the man's throat. She felt things snap and collapse under her foot and reckoned the would-be assassin was no longer a problem. ------- Chapter 35 Archie hadn't been quite as quick as Amira, but his reaction was fast nonetheless. He snatched up his rifle as he ran and used a throat mic to contact the patrol that was on duty. By the time he caught up with Amira and Rory, Malloy was already dead. "Sweep this area, I don't believe he would be out here on his own," Archie told the patrol leader. "Shoot first and ask questions later." Heading back to the road, Archie found Dave Lawrence and Mark Petrie helping Donnie out of the Polo. He was relieved to see that Donnie looked unharmed if a little shaken. "It was Malloy," he told Donnie. Donnie linked to his gifts in an effort to gain some control over the sudden bout of shakes that he had developed. "Get the police out here, it's high time we exposed MI5 for what its been doing," he told Archie. By now the other girls had pulled on heavy coats and they were running towards Donnie, clearly very upset that he had been injured in some way. He found himself swamped under them and a few moments later Amira joined in. Donnie managed to see past the scrum of girls and caught sight of Rory sitting with his tongue hanging out. He broke free and crouched down so that he could put his arms around the Collie in a hug. "Thank you, my friend, I guess that's us even," Donnie whispered, alluding to the fact that they had saved each other twice now. Katie led the way back to the house with each of the girls taking turns to fuss over Donnie and Rory. "Look, I'm perfectly fine," groused Donnie. He explained how Rory had probably saved him from being shot by barking in his ear and that earned the Collie more hugs from the girls. Archie arrived to tell Donnie that the patrol had picked up two other MI5 operatives and that the police were on their way out to Ardbrecknish. Donnie nodded and then fished out his mobile phone. He hit a speed-dial number and spoke when the call was answered. "Eric? I need you to do me a favour. Could you print off copies of the most incriminating messages from Malloy's IT account and bring them over?" "Sure, give me a few minutes." "Thanks," said Donnie ending the call. "Where were the others?" This last question was directed at Archie. "One was in a cottage at the edge of the village – they found him by following Malloy's tracks back from where he took the shot at you," Archie answered. "They picked the other one up as he was running out of the woods, heading for the cottage. No doubt he heard the shot and was making his escape." "Where are they?" asked Donnie. Archie realised that Donnie wanted to speak to the two captives. "Why don't I bring them in here?" he suggested. "They're so arrogant I doubt that they pose a risk." Eric arrived first with a sheaf of A4 pages, which he handed to Donnie. A quick flick through the pages confirmed that all of the messages ordering the various operations were there. Archie returned with several armed members of the patrol leading the two MI5 men. Both of them had their hands secured behind their back with cable-ties. Donnie could see by their expressions what Archie meant about their arrogance and he tried to shake them up. "You do realise that you're likely to be charged with attempted murder?" he asked them. "Look, sonny, we're both serving officers with MI5," one of them responded haughtily. "When will you goons get it into your thick heads that you no longer have any authority in this country?" Donnie barked at him. "You're nothing but a criminal now – plain and simple." "Even if – and it's a big if – what you say is true, we haven't done anything wrong," said the second agent. "We were minding our own business when these idiots started waving guns at us." Donnie thrust the sheaf of papers under his nose. "I'm afraid that I have copies of the orders that Malloy sent out," he snapped. "Not only orders for you to keep me under surveillance, but orders for the assassination of the First Minister." The two MI5 agents still didn't show any fear, but at least they didn't appear quite so arrogant. The police arrived along with a forensics team and they quickly taped off the area around Malloy's body. Donnie's car was examined and photographed and they also sealed the cottage the MI5 men had been using. Donnie handed over the copies of Malloy's messages as further evidence. The police separated them all until individual statements could be taken. "Oh, and there's something else that you might want to have a look at," Donnie remembered. "My solicitor has got a copy of a tape taken inside Govan Police Station. It shows the dead man assaulting me in one of the interview rooms after he had basically kidnapped me." The detective was very interested in getting a copy of the tape and Donnie phoned the solicitor to arrange that. He also made a call to John Swinney who was standing in as First Minister. "John? It's Donnie McGregor." "Is it a quick one, Donnie? Only things are a little hectic here as you can imagine." Donnie quickly explained what had happened at Ardbrecknish and about the evidence he had of MI5's involvement in Alex Salmond's death. Swinney immediately saw the importance of the information Donnie had and the value of making it public as quickly as possible. "Are you sure this stuff will stand up to scrutiny?" "Definitely, there's more than enough here to convince a jury," Donnie told him. "Okay. Stay put and I'll arrange for some of our media contacts to come to you and record an interview." ------- The interview with Donnie was the centre-piece of a half-hour show that was broadcast that night. The producer had spliced in footage of Donnie's car with the windscreen missing and the taped-off area in the woods where Malloy's body had previously lain. The solicitor had supplied another copy of the tape from the interview room and that was also featured. " ... I understand that this MI5 officer, Fergus Malloy, was also responsible for planning and authorising a number of other operations in Scotland including the recent attacks on our airports. The most sensational operation though was called Code Robin and I believe that operation was the assassination of Alex Salmond. Here is the actual e-mail order for that operation to be carried out." An image of Malloy's e-mail had been spliced into the show at this point. "This is direct evidence that MI5 has been actively carrying out operations inside Scotland, including being responsible for the assassination of our leader..." Donnie took some good-natured teasing about featuring so heavily in the programme, including the fact that he had been referred to as the 'brilliant young Scottish entrepreneur'. The most immediate impact of the TV show was a thawing in the relationship with Westminster. John Swinney told Donnie that talks were actually underway about the possibility of an agreement on a peaceful settlement of the independence issue. ------- The First Minister's funeral was held in Edinburgh's St Giles' Cathedral and was shown live on TV across Scotland. After a very moving ceremony led by the Moderator of the Church of Scotland, the cortege drove slowly down the Royal Mile, which was lined on both sides by thousands who wanted to pay their respects. The hearse then took Alex Salmond's body north so that it could be interred in the family plot in a more private ceremony. So marked the passing of a man who had lived his dream of delivering Scottish independence. ------- Another reaction to the revelations about MI5's involvement in attacks on Scotland was a growing spate of desertions from the British armed forces. These were not confined to lower ranks either, but included some high ranking officers. One unhelpful consequence of the desertions was that there were now several thousand weapons in circulation in Scotland and with people growing increasingly desperate for food, that wasn't a good thing. As January faded to an equally cold and snowy February, attacks involving armed raiders became increasingly common-place and John Swinney, now confirmed as the new First Minister, took the decision that all of Scotland's police forces should be trained and armed. There were heated debates about this in the Scottish Parliament; with many convinced that such a move would only lead to more shooting incidents. One thing was certain, there were now an additional fifteen thousand firearms being carried in the country. ------- February saw two improvements in the security arrangements at Ardbrecknish. The first was down to Donnie simply buying a second-hand helicopter. Besides Commander Wilcox and Louise being qualified to fly, there were four other pilots amongst the Gregorach already at the site and a rota was quickly drawn up for regular security sweeps. The second improvement was undoubtedly more valuable, however, and it came from an idea that Katie came up with. She tested out her thinking and found that it was possible before sharing it with first Donnie and then the others. "Donnie?" she said one cold February afternoon. "Can I show you something?" "Of course you can, my love" Donnie responded, putting down the report on how much food was now in storage. "Let me link with you," said Katie. Donnie closed his eyes to avoid the confusion of seeing normally while dealing with the images that he knew Katie was about to share with him. "Can you see this?" Katie asked. Donnie had an image of the outside of the house in his head. "If you mean can I see the house from the outside, then yes," he answered her. "Watch this," he heard Katie say. The images that Donnie was seeing changed in perspective. It was almost as if a camera was pulling back its focus, as things became smaller and more and more of the Ardbrecknish site was visible. The image steadied once the entire site was in view. "Are you seeing the whole site now?" Katie asked. "Yes, this is neat," Donnie answered. "Okay, now watch this," said Katie. Donnie's image of the site suddenly had hundreds of little gold dots flashing at various points and two quite obvious red dots. "What are they?" he asked. In answer, Katie zoomed in on two of the gold dots that were close together. Donnie saw that it was actually his mother and father. The image zoomed out again until the whole site was visible and then Katie's focus changed to the two red dots. When she zoomed in on these, Donnie could see that they were actually two men from the garage in Glasgow where he had purchased a new Toyota Land Cruiser. "Oh good, they've delivered my new car," Donnie observed. Katie laughed. "Do you see what this means?" she asked. "That you're incredibly talented?" Donnie asked. "Ha-ha, yes, that's definitely true," Katie agreed. "What's more important though is that I can pinpoint every single person on this site and differentiate between those that are from the Clan and those that are strangers. Don't you see, no one will ever be able to creep up on us again!" "Of course! That's brilliant!" Donnie opened his eyes and gave her a hug. ------- There was no let up in the freezing weather as February drifted into March. Forecasters still weren't saying anything about the Atlantic sink, but ordinary folk were commenting on the fact that winter didn't seem to be breaking like it normally did. Donnie and his father hadn't been sitting down to watch the news together as much, simply because it was too depressing. It was Friday, 15 March 2013 and they were sharing a beer together when Donnie decided they really should be keeping up with events. The news reports on the national TV channel had introduced the grisly idea of a count in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen. That represented the total number of people dead from flu, hypothermia, starvation and from violent means in one way or another. Today the count stood at 79,503. A week before it had only been at 42,000, so it seemed that the death rate was accelerating. "It's really happening, isn't it?" said Douglas. "What your goddess predicted – it's all going to come true." "It certainly looks like it," Donnie agreed. "I wonder how much longer the news is going to be broadcast? It won't be long before the armed police start to go out hunting for food for their families instead of trying to maintain law and order. There will probably be gangs already looking to rob and steal every scrap of food that they can get no matter the cost in lives." "What wouldn't I give to be back to the old days," sighed Douglas. "Aye, simpler times," said Donnie. "Times when you didn't think twice about the amount of food that was available. Times when the big supermarkets fought with each other to reduce the price of staples to ridiculously low levels." Something about that teased Donnie's mind, there was a tendril of something, a thought just out of reach. Katie interrupted their maudlin exchange as she raced into the lounge. "I've picked up about thirty people approaching the site from the northwest," she panted. "They're armed!" "Shit! Cursed Donnie. "We knew this was going to happen sooner or later, but it doesn't make it any easier. Dad, round up the protection force and get the kids into the 'emergency room'. I'll get Archie and put the defence plans into action." Part of Archie's training regime had been to have the teams practice working with each other in close support. He had also introduced subsequent drills and as the situation across the country had started to deteriorate, Archie had been testing their readiness. Now it looked as if they would face the real thing – an attack on Ardbrecknish. The 'protection force' was made up of four teams of sixteen each and they had practiced over and over how they would round up and account for all of the children. The 'emergency room' was at the bottom of the silo that held most of the accommodation, as it was felt that would keep the youngsters well out of harm's way. Douglas was calling the team leaders to carry out their allotted tasks and that part of the operation worked like a well-oiled machine. Once Archie found out details of the attacking force – numbers and how well armed they were - he decided the best defence was to carry out an ambush on them. "Teams one through four, report to the northwest perimeter immediately," he ordered over the Ardbrecknish communications net. Four teams would give him sixty-four men – a significant advantage in firepower. Ambush tactics had also been well rehearsed and it didn't take long for the teams to take up positions so that two could enfilade the enemy from the front, while two could fire on them from the flank. The Gregorach teams were in place and nervously waiting for their first sight of the 'enemy'. Archie warned the team leaders to ensure their teams held fire until it could be confirmed that these were in fact hostile visitors. Katie crouched beside Archie, on-hand to pinpoint where the people were hiding if fighting did break out. Eventually the approaching group came into sight, moving in single-file and looking warlike. Archie remained under cover when he challenged them. "Stop where you are and explain what your business is!" he called out. The approaching group dropped prone to the ground and several rifles were fired in Archie's general direction. "We have you surrounded and outnumbered," Archie warned. "Who are you and what do you want?" More shots were fired and Archie decided he had given them more of a chance than he should have. Already he had given up the element of surprise and the enemy had also been given a chance to find cover. That had been a gamble, one he had taken owing to his superior numbers. "Open fire!" he yelled at the Gregorach. The response of Clan McGregor pleased Archie. The teams were firing in controlled, short bursts up and down the line of where the attackers had dropped. The impact of more than sixty rifles laying down concentrated fire was quite devastating, despite the attackers being prone. "Cease fire!" Archie called out and again he was pleased at how quickly the Gregorach responded. If the attackers had been in any doubt as to the professional nature of the force firing at them, that had changed in the last few moments. "I'll ask again, who are you and what do you want?" he called out. "We need food!" came a shouted response. "And were you just planning on taking what you wanted?" Archie asked. "We're starving out here," the man answered. "I'm sorry, we can't help you. You've got one chance to pull back, that's all," warned Archie. "We need food, give us something!" "I've told you, we can't help," Archie repeated. "I've been on your site, I know how much food you produce," came a different voice. "Last chance," warned Archie. "Pull back!" "We won't go until we have some of your food," was the response. More shots came from the prone attackers and Archie's response was immediate. "Open fire!" The Gregorach began firing again. "There are two trying to outflank our teams on the right," Katie warned. This was one of those situations when Archie was glad that he had included hand signals in the basic training, as he was able to let the teams on the flank know what Katie had told him. The would-be flankers were easily picked off and the withering fire began to tell on the attackers. Some individuals broke cover and ran. "There are others crawling away," Katie advised Archie. He let the Gregorach continue firing until he was sure all of the attacking group were in retreat. "Are there any playing possum?" Archie asked Katie. "There are two still lying fairly close by, let me check them," she replied. "They're both injured and the survivors aren't stopping, they're in full retreat. I count nine running away." "Okay, I want an orderly withdrawal," Archie called out. "What about the wounded?" Donnie spoke for the first time. "They're still armed, I won't risk approaching them, and I won't risk you approaching them either. Fall back with the other members of your team," said Archie. Katie continued to monitor the surviving attackers and the two wounded as the Gregorach made their way back to the accommodation silo. "I want a full de-brief tomorrow, but until then go and find your families and let them know you're alright," Archie called out. Donnie, Katie and Amira made their way to their house and were hugged by Vivien and Lizzie. The adrenaline of being in a real fire-fight was still flooding Donnie's system and the futility of the attack was also something that really angered him. "If only I could have started all of these improvements long ago," he said absently. "If only we could have something to avert all of this. It's crazy that people are fighting and killing each other over food!" "Maybe that's it," suggested Lizzie. "Maybe you need to find out how to get the goddess to send you back in time again so that you can do something to avert the ice-age and the food shortages." "You know, I think you're right Lizzie," said Katie. "Just think, Donnie. If you could go all the way back to the time of the Darien Expedition and turn that into a success, Scotland would never have lost its independence! You could take the new technology with you and start your approach to farming in the 1600s. Think of it, you could save the rain forest in South America and ensure that the indigenous people in places like Mexico and Brazil weren't poor and hungry. "You could change the course of history and become so rich that you could influence events – do things like avoid carbon emissions before they even start. If you introduced your energy device, people wouldn't be burning coal and fossil fuels. There wouldn't be the same reliance on the Middle East which would change the politics there. Professor White's recycling plant would mean that the world would use raw materials at a much slower rate too. "It's brilliant! You could save the world – billions of lives saved!" Donnie smiled. "And just how would I manage to take all of that technology back in time?" he asked. "What about all of you and my parents and brother?" The girls' excitement waned as they realised the truth of what Donnie was saying. "It was a good thought though," Katie persisted. "Yes, it was," agreed Donnie. "I would give up just about anything to avoid all of these people going through this, even Malloy." The kernel of the idea took root in Donnie's subconscious – it was just too desirable an outcome to forget immediately and it connected with a previous tendril that still escaped him. ------- Donnie awoke and looked across at the LED alarm clock. It was 02:07, but something had woken him. A quick glance told him that his four wives were all sleeping soundly, so it hadn't been one of them who had woken him. As the last vestiges of sleep slipped away, he found a single thought remaining in his suddenly clear mind. "Of course!" That's it! When the goddess gave me her final gift, she told us to remember our vows. We vowed our service to the gods and goddesses. We vowed to commit to and support each other, our families and the Gregorach. We also vowed to steer a path that would succour the weak and protect Mother Earth so there has got to be more than just watching the world die! How can we succour the weak and protect Mother Earth? How can we support the Gregorach, the Clan? "What if the gift was an opportunity to travel back in time? On each occasion that the goddess has transported me before, I took nothing but the clothes I was standing in. If I had one chance to go back in time, what would I do and what time period would I go to? "The idea of being able to change the current path we are on is a huge prize! But what could I change? What could I do with nothing other than myself?" The tendril of a thought began curling and twisting again, just out of reach. Donnie focused on his gifts and linked to them, urging the thought to crystallise in his mind. And then ... it was there, and he knew what he had to do. Donnie carefully climbed over Katie and Amira, and pulled on his trousers. Rory gave him a look that seemed to say that he knew what Donnie was up to. Making his way to his den, Donnie booted-up his computer and began some research. Two hours later he had everything he thought he would need and he carefully downloaded it onto a memory stick. Now he was in a quandary. Did he do this without saying goodbye to his girls, saying goodbye to his parents? What if it all went horribly wrong? "I need to have faith! The goddess has looked out for me all along. This has got to work. It has to!" Fearful of changing his mind if he hesitated, Donnie reached out until he encountered the sensation that was the goddess' final gift. Now linked to all of his gifts, he concentrated and felt a feeling of vertigo and queasiness in his stomach. ------- Craig Bheithe Farm, Scotland - April 2010 Donnie opened his eyes and smiled. He was sitting at the kitchen table of the farmhouse and his father was helping his mother who had just fainted. The letter had just arrived confirming that he was a millionaire. "I'm going to use the money to commission a purpose-built facility for growing wheat," he described. "It's going to be underground, about one acre square and covered in glass. What's different about this greenhouse though is that it will delve deep below the ground and allow one hundred layers of growing wheat to be stacked one on top of the other. "Tree energy will supply power for lighting and heating for each layer to promote the necessary growth and this way we will be able to get one hundred times the yield from a single acre site." "Is it even possible?" his father asked. "Welcome back, Dòmhnall. I knew you would work it out eventually!" Donnie breathed a sigh of relief, this was the one thing that had worried him most about his choice, that the goddess was really gone. "Goddess! Am I glad to hear your voice again. I have three years to make everything different, and I need you for certain things." He heard the goddess chuckle. "What do you need me for, Gregorach?" "You need to recreate some things – I need to save Katie's ancestor from drowning in the Mississippi, I need to meet Katie, Vivien, Lizzie and Amira. I can do most of the things, but you only gave me one go at your time travel gift and I had to believe you would be here when I came back." "Very well, Dòmhnall. You have pleased me in your choice of the time to return to. I can do these things, but the rest is up to you." ------- Chapter 36 "You know, you have to be careful son," Mairi McGregor said with a note of caution in her voice. "Too much money and working too hard will age you before your time. I swear you look a few years older already! It must be the shock of having that much money so suddenly." Donnie finished the conversation with his parents about his newfound wealth and his plans to build a facility that would revolutionise farming and then made his way to his room. He booted-up his computer and inserted the memory stick he had brought back with him. "Good, it's all there," he thought to himself. "I think I could still deliver without this information, but it would be much more difficult." Feeling more confident about his ability to do what had to be done, Donnie began preparing a list of things that would need to be achieved. Move up timeline for availability of capital The first time around, he didn't have access to the necessary capital to increase the size of the Ardbrecknish site until October 2011 – in the immediate aftermath of the plane crash in Afghanistan. This time, the research he had undertaken before leaving 2013 gave him access to the future results of all of the world's lotteries and major sporting events over the next three years. His plans for the capital had also grown significantly, as the next few items on the list showed. Move up the timeline for the Clan gathering Donnie's plan here was to recruit additional people for Gregorach Enterprises and to set them to work wherever they happened to be in the world. He would agree legal contracts with McGregors in the US, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and anywhere else he could. The contracts would release information to individuals that would allow them to win the lottery or to win big through a range of bets on sporting events in return for becoming part of Gregorach Enterprises and starting the new approach to farming in the country they were in. Donnie had downloaded a copy of Eric Black's mailing list and brought it with him so that he could do this before he actually met up Eric Black in this timeline. Patent the silo farming approach The plan here would be to secure a patent and then either license or franchise the approach beyond the members of the clan. As far as Donnie was concerned, the more countries and farmers that adopted the approach, the bigger the jump in food production would be. There would also be less chance that climatic conditions would lead to marked fluctuations in food supply if a high percentage of the food production could be achieved through the silo approach. The silos would of course also be heavily reliant on the tree energy design too, and he already had that patented. If Gregorach Enterprises happened to make a ton of money from licensing and franchising, then that would simply increase the amount of capital he had to work with. "I like your ideas so far, they make sense and you have prepared well before returning," he heard the goddess inside his head. "You should be able to significantly increase food production within eighteen months to two years and that will certainly make a difference to the food supply. Why have you thought of these things first?" "These are not first; they are just the first things I've written down. You told us to remember our vows, that's why I believed you would be here when I returned. That's also why I mentioned needing you to make sure I met Katie, Vivien, Lizzie and Amira – part of the vow was about committing to each other. "There was more to it though. We vowed to support the Gregorach and to succour the weak and Mother Earth. Safeguarding the food supply and increasing the size, wealth and power of Gregorach Enterprises will allow us to do more for the poor and needy around the world. At the same time though I will be doing other things." "Continue with your list then." Donnie turned his attention back to his computer. Move up the timeline for the recycling plant Donnie's idea here was to commission far more of the recycling units. To start out with he would establish Gregorach Enterprise recycling plants at key ports around Scotland. He would boost employment in the country and make Scotland the recycling hub for the entire planet. As well as charging other countries and multi-national corporations to take their junk, the recycling would produce vast quantities of pure raw materials that could be re-sold for future use. That would ease the rate at which natural resources were being used up. In time he would extend the recycling to other members of the Clan around the world to improve the amount of recycling and reduce waste as far as possible. The whole approach certainly fit with succouring Mother Earth he believed. Spend as much as it takes to establish wave, wind and solar energy at the North and South poles Donnie wasn't sure how feasible it would be, but he hoped to generate huge quantities of renewable energy in this way and he intended using it to produce refrigeration that would slow down and hopefully reverse the loss of the ice-caps. Anything he could do to reduce that would hopefully stave off or completely avoid the tipping-point that had cut off the Atlantic sink and the Atlantic conveyor. Again, Donnie saw this as a large part of doing something to help Mother Earth maintain the balance in nature. If his investments in renewable energy and tree energy happened to reduce demand for fossil fuels then so much the better. His hope was that he could stabilise the ice-caps and then re-route the available energy for other uses around the globe. "Good, you have a balanced plan that has every chance of success. There are two other things that need to be included though, Dòmhnall." "What would you have me do, goddess?" "You need to establish a philanthropic programme to educate the children of the third world. That is another way of succouring the weak – and doing it in a way that will allow them to help themselves as they grow." "I will be delighted to do such a thing. Education is the right of every child. I will see to it, goddess. What is the other thing that you would have me do?" The goddess told Donnie and he almost fell from his chair with shock at her request. It took him some time to calm down before he could respond to what Beira had asked for. "Are you sure?" "I am positive, Dòmhnall. Do this – even if it is only because I ask it of you. Now, you have much to accomplish, you had better make a start!" ------- There were many moments of déjà-vu for Donnie over the months. The acceleration and expansion of his plans ensured that many things were different, but there were key moments that remained constant from his first time through 2010. The goddess told him that, as he had already learned the lessons she had wanted to teach him, some of his 'trips' wouldn't be necessary. Some he argued to retain however. "You don't need to go back to 1849 to save Alexander from drowning. I can fix that without your intervention." "What, and miss the chance to meet Katriona? No, that episode became part of Katie's family history. If it's okay, goddess, I would like to save the drunken oaf one more time." The second time went much like the first, although Donnie was of course prepared this time round. He returned home with the moccasins that Katriona made for him, just as he had the first time. One difference was that Donnie decided there was no need to attend University. He already had all of the knowledge from completing his combined honours degree and too much of his time and energy would be taken up attending lectures. He knew that he would find another way of meeting Katie and he set out to do just that. Getting the main building blocks for his new approach in place was easier than before, as Donnie had some experience now. Rather than leaving things to chance, he hired an investigator to trace Carol McStay and her two young children – Alan and Alisha – and recruited her, tasking her with many of the day to day responsibilities. Getting Carol in place also meant that he had peace of mind with regard to how quickly progress would be made – she was a tigerish project manager. Professor White was also signed-up much earlier and an industrial unit on Glasgow's River Clyde procured as the assembly site for the first recycling unit. Once again Donnie assigned Heather to work with the Professor, but this time he stressed the need to sign contracts with quality suppliers. With things moving well on all fronts, Donnie booked himself a holiday. He was going to visit McGregor, Iowa and find the home of Rose, Katie and Jennifer McGregor. The flight was a marathon - almost fifteen hours from Glasgow with changes required at London Heathrow and Chicago before Donnie boarded a flight to Dubuque Airport. He had booked a rental car from there. Driving slowly through downtown McGregor, Donnie was fascinated by the old buildings that had been lovingly restored and maintained. McGregor certainly looked much different to what it had in 1849. He was booked into the Holiday Shores Motel, on the banks of the Mississippi and he found it easily enough. Checking in, he collapsed exhausted from the journey. After a shower and a quick breakfast the next morning, Donnie returned to the hire car so that he could search out his future wife. The house was easy enough to find, as McGregor wasn't that big a town. He parked on the opposite side of the street and simply watched the front door, hoping for a glimpse of Katie. An hour or so later he was rewarded when his beautiful nighean ruadh came hurrying down the path and headed in the direction of the nearest store. Donnie got out of the car and followed her. Katie entered the small market store and he watched as she picked out and paid for some bread and milk. Katie looked up and caught him staring at her. There was a momentary flash of annoyance in her green eyes, but that was quickly replaced by something else. Donnie approached her and she dropped the paper bag with the groceries on the counter. Pulling her into his arms felt natural and as good as it always did. "Forever?" he whispered to her. "I must be crazy, but yes. Forever," she answered. Pulling back, Donnie stared into her eyes and then kissed her softly on the lips. He pushed her sleeve up high enough to check her shoulder and saw that the Yew tree brand was already there. He smiled and pushed his own sleeve up to show Katie Beira's mark. "Come on, take me to meet your mom and sister and I can explain everything. You're so going to love my story, especially the bit where I turn up soaking wet with no trousers or boots." Katie laughed and picked up the groceries as Donnie pulled her from the store. Once Donnie had introduced himself to Rose and Jennifer he had the McGregor women sit comfortably while he told his story to growing looks of amazement. The first time through he had told Katie this story on the night of their first date and she had realised he knew too many details for it not to be true – incredible though it sounded. This time, Rose and Jennifer were just as stunned, but his reference to the McGregor ring and the moccasins he had brought to Iowa with him were difficult to argue with. "What an incredible story and I find myself believing you," admitted Rose. "For the sake of argument, let's assume that what you've told us is all true. If it is, why are you here?" "That's an easy one," Donnie grinned. "I came for my beautiful nighean ruadh; I couldn't live without her any longer and need her standing by my side." Donnie moved to slip his arm round Katie's waist and he pulled her to his side. Rose looked at the two of them together and knew in her heart that this stranger was going to take her daughter away. Surprisingly, she didn't feel any sadness. She could see that Katie was accepting all that Donnie as saying. "Are you really going to go along with this?" Rose asked her. "I've seen him before, I feel as if I've known him for a long time, because somehow he has been in my dreams," Katie answered. ------- Donnie returned to Craig Bheithe with a promise that Katie would come to Scotland within a few weeks. The reunion with Archie Roy was much as it had been the first time with Donnie using his gifts to heal the now former SAS man and then recruiting him as head of security for Gregorach Enterprises on the spot. "There are two jobs I need you to organise for me," Donnie told Archie. "Both of them involve tracing and investigating someone. The first guy is called Anthony Brown. He's a special Advisor to the First Minister. I want to know everything there is to know about him. "The second guy might actually be connected to the first in some way – that's one of the things I really need to find out – his name is Fergus Malloy. He works for MI5, so you'll have to be careful how you go about investigating him." "Why are you interested in them?" Archie asked. "You know the thing you refer to as my Mojo?" asked Donnie. "Well, let's just say that I know what these two are planning and it isn't very pleasant. I would like to stop them if I can." "Is it bad?" Archie asked. "Malloy is going to try and kill me at some point and I think he's going to order Brown to assassinate Alex Salmond. "Bloody hell!" cursed Archie. "What kind of life do you live? How can you walk around every day with stuff like this in your head? Doesn't it drive you nuts?" ------- Donnie had to link to his gifts to calm his nerves as he waited to be shown in to meet Scotland's Lord Lyon King of Arms, David Sellar. His appointment was something that would have caused a huge stir in Scotland if it became public knowledge, but Donnie was determined that it would remain quiet, at least for the present. As he waited, he replayed the conversation with the goddess in his head one more time. "There is one thing that you have left out of the things that I reminded you of before I left you. You've remembered that I mentioned your vows, but I also told you to remember the motto of your Clan - 'S Rioghal Mo Dhream or Royal is my race. "The current 'true' heir to the Scottish crown is a German by the somewhat long name of Franz Bonaventura Adalbert Maria Herzog von Bayern. He is a direct descendant from the House of Stuart. There is a point in Scotland's history that shouldn't be overlooked, however. The McGregor motto derives from the fact that Gregor was the brother of Kenneth mac Alpin, the first King of Scots. Your own blood is more Royal than this Bavarian pretender, Dòmhnall! "When you meet with Alex Salmond I want you to tell him that you are a direct descendant of Gregor. Your modern science has ways of proving or disproving these things – there are enough remains of various descendents of Kenneth mac Alpin that a DNA comparison can be undertaken. When it is, it will show that YOU are the rightful heir to the Scottish crown. Perhaps the First Minister will be interested in that? A return to the ancient Royal family instead of reliance on the current German upstarts?" "Even if that was true, my father would be the rightful heir and my elder brother next in line after him," Donnie had argued. "Neither of them will want this, they will be happy for you to take on the mantle." It was a measure of Donnie's trust in the goddess that he didn't for a minute seek to dispute what she had told him. Painfully modest, the idea that he could somehow be the rightful King of Scots was a daunting thing for him to take in, but this was a service that Beira had asked of him, so he would do as she had asked. Donnie knew though that he couldn't simply make his claim to Alex Salmond, nothing was surer to make the FM think that he was a fantasist. He had therefore already quietly approached the Lord Lyon King or Arms to register his claim to be of direct descent from Gregor. He knew that his claim would be met with disbelief, but the Court of the Lord Lyon was a standing court of law in Scotland and the King of Arms was charged with settling matters of genealogy. He was therefore duty bound to investigate Donnie's claim. Now Donnie was waiting to make that claim. "You can go through now, Sir," the pretty young receptionist told him. David Sellar was a man in his seventieth year and Donnie hoped that what he was about to tell him wouldn't be too much of a shock. They exchanged pleasantries before the Lord Lyon tried to get down to business. "I have done some research, so I know a little bit about you," Sellar admitted. "I understand that you are already one of the richest men in Scotland and that your business interests are growing at an incredible rate. What brings you to see me this morning?" "I understand that in your role as Lord Lyon King of Arms you have the responsibility of investigating all claims as to genealogy," Donnie began." "That's right," Sellar confirmed. "I know that this is going to sound somewhat far-fetched, but I believe that I am a direct descendent of Gregor," Donnie added. The Lord Lyon looked at him, waiting for him to add something else. When Donnie remained silent, Sellar asked a question. "Descended from Gregor who?" "No, I'm sorry, I'm not explaining this very well," Donnie apologised. "I mean I am descended from THE Gregor, brother of Kenneth mac Alpin and the first of the McGregor Clan." The Lord Lyon had been leaning forward with his elbows on his desk and his chin resting on his hands. At Donnie's claim, however, he sat bolt upright and his mouth hung slightly open. "Are you serious?" he eventually spluttered. "I wouldn't have come to you if I wasn't serious," Donnie assured him. The Lord Lyon showed his grasp of history in his next question. "But what makes you think that you are descended from someone who was alive in something like 850 AD?" Donnie had thought about this – the question was an obvious one – and he had decided to keep things simple. "It's just something that has been handed down within my family for generations," he explained. "I'm sure such claims exist in the minds of many families," Sellar replied. "I'm sure that you're right about that, but I'm here about my claim and you have a legal obligation to investigate it," Donnie argued. "And how do you suppose I do that?" the Lord Lyon asked. "There are two ways I suppose," Donnie answered. "You can appoint researchers to pore over records and documents, but that would quickly run out of steam as there are no records going that far back in time. The alternative is to take a DNA sample from me and compare it to a sample from Gregor or a blood relative of Gregor's." "You're willing to subject yourself to DNA testing?" Sellar asked, beginning to give Donnie a little more credence. "Of course," Donnie confirmed. "This is highly unusual," said Sellar. "I would need approval for it, but I am aware that Historic Scotland has already carried out some DNA tests on bodies of previous monarchs as part of their work. I would need to find out whether any of them are directly descended from Kenneth the First." "I would prefer it for obvious reasons it this was kept confidential," Donnie told him. "Of course," the Lord Lyon agreed. "I would prefer that too." Arrangements were made for a private clinic to take samples from Donnie and to run the DNA test. The Lord Lyon confirmed that the work of Historic Scotland included DNA testing on the ancient bones of Malcolm the First a monarch only three generations removed from Kenneth mac Alpin. ------- While the DNA testing was secretly underway, Donnie had another task that he was keen to carry out. He was sure that it was already too late to do anything to save Vivien's father, but he hoped that it might be possible to use his healing gift on her mother. The previous time around, the goddess had told him that her Alzheimer's was too far along to allow him to heal her, but perhaps that wasn't the case yet? He parked the car outside the house in St Andrew's and rang the door-bell. His heart went out to the tired and pale looking girl that answered the door. "Hello Vivien, I came to see whether I can help your mother," he told her. Once again Donnie saw a spark of recognition in Vivien's eyes, similar to how it had been with Katie in Iowa. "It's you!" Vivien exclaimed. "How do you know my name?" "Can I try to heal your mother?" Donnie asked. Vivien stepped aside to let him enter the house. "But how can you be real?" she asked, still stunned. "You're from a dream." "You can pinch me if you like," Donnie chuckled. Somewhat dazed, Vivien nonetheless led the way to the lounge where her mother was sitting wrapped in a blanket. Donnie knelt beside the frail looking woman and took her hand between his own. He sensed the sickness within her and began to send wave after wave of healing energy combined with some much needed strength. Very slowly he sensed an improvement and he could see something in the woman's eyes changing. At last it was done and Donnie sat back on the floor, exhausted. "What did you do to me?" asked Hilary Dunn. "I used my faith in the old gods and goddesses to heal you," Donnie answered her. That brought a gasp from Vivien. Recovering slightly, Donnie got to his feet and pushed Vivien's sleeve upwards. The snake and egg brand was exactly where he expected it to be. "You are going to enjoy your service," he told her. ------- Archie Roy had made some progress on the investigations that Donnie had asked him to undertake and he called to make arrangements for them to meet. "Let me start with Malloy first," said Archie, when they met. "There's not much to say about him. Graduated from Baliol College, Oxford and was recruited directly into MI5 from what I was able to glean. He has been a serving officer for eleven years. "Anthony Brown is a little more interesting. He also graduated from Baliol College, Oxford and I'm pretty sure that he met Malloy while he was there. His name then was Anthony Guildford though. He seems to have dropped off the face of the Earth for five or six years and then he turns up as an economist for one of the large insurance companies based in Edinburgh. "Joined the Scottish National Party in 2005 and worked first as a researcher and aid to Alex Neal and them Special Advisor to Alex Salmond in the run up to the 2007 Scottish elections. "His family life is quite interesting too. Father is a career diplomat and his grandfather was a Colonel in the Guards. If you ask me, Guildford/Brown would have been a perfect candidate to have also been recruited into MI5 and I wonder whether that's what happened. It might explain the 'missing years' – it's possible he has been undercover somewhere." "Wouldn't it be a little unusual for him to have taken such a high-profile role after having been undercover?" Donnie asked. "Being a member of the Scottish Parliament would be high-profile," Archie responded. "Special Advisors are shady characters; they remain in the background most of the time." Donnie nodded. "It could fit," he agreed. "You suspect that he's still working for MI5, don't you?" "Exactly!" said Archie. "What better way to keep an eye on the damned separatists than by putting a man close to the SNP leader?" "Okay, I need to think about this," said Donnie. ------- July brought the Clan Gathering. With building still at a relatively early stage at Ardbrecknish, Donnie had had to find an alternative venue. An approach to the current owner of Glen Strae and an offer of a sizeable sum of money secured use of the land. After that it was a case of Carol McStay organising large marquees and a whole raft of caterers. No one could be accommodate on-site this time, but the three days still went well and Donnie managed to sign-up all of the additional people that he would need. July also brought confirmation from the Lord Lyon King of Arms that Donnie's DNA sample was a close enough match to that of Malcolm the First to confirm that he was a blood relative. The letter of confirmation asked Donnie how he intended to proceed and invited him for a further meeting in Edinburgh to discuss it. Donnie wrote a response thanking the Lord Lyon, but declining a meeting and advising that he wasn't intending to share the information publicly at this stage. Good progress was reported in terms of halting the decline of the ice-caps and Donnie really started to believe that he was going to help the Earth avoid disaster. The first Gregorach winners already had their lottery cheques around the world and were in the process of starting up their own silo developments. The sudden upsurge in the adoption of the technique was being reported and that acted as an extremely valuable marketing tool. Donnie's legal team were reporting significant interest from countries beyond those where the Clan members were based. They also reported interest from ordinary farmers and from some governments. Forecasts for the amount of income Gregorach Enterprises would receive from the licensing were already starting to climb above Donnie's initial projections. ------- Donnie had already joined the Scottish National Party but now he made a substantial contribution to party funds and gave a similar, but more impassioned speech at the party conference in October. It was strange to go through the phone call from Anthony Brown again, asking him to meet with Alex Salmond. The meeting took place at the New Club in Edinburgh as it had before and Donnie had to remain linked to his gifts to refrain from treating Anthony Brown any differently because of what he now knew. Donnie's relationship with the First Minister was as good as he remembered it, but this time round he knew that was going to change. Donnie decided that the FM's likely reaction to what he was going to share with him and the possibility that Anthony Brown was an MI5 agent, called for privacy. "Could we arrange to talk about something privately?" he asked Salmond. The FM seemed leery at first, but decided that the sums of money Donnie was contributing to party funds entitled him to some access. "Sure," he agreed. "Let's head over to my office." Once they were alone, Donnie fished out the letter from the Lord Lyon King of Arms. "This needs to remain solely between you and me for the present," Donnie warned as he handed the letter over. The First Minister read and then re-read the letter. "Is this genuine?" he asked. "You can ring the Lord Lyon to check if you need to," Donnie replied. "He is the only other person that knows about this." "What are you going to do with it?" asked Salmond. "Nothing ... yet," said Donnie. "I'm going to give you a few predictions though. "Next year the SNP are going to win the Scottish Elections with an increased number of seats. We will campaign heavily on the growing differences between government policy here in Scotland as opposed to England. "Within a year of next May's election, you will get backing from the Lib Dems to pass a referendum Act and the Scottish public will vote 'yes' to independence. Westminster will oppose what we want to do, but by then my economic clout will have risen significantly and I will help force them to accept it. "You will pass legislation in the Scottish Parliament to repeal the British Act of Succession and at that point you can publicly reveal my antecedents. You will formally ask me to return as the rightful King of Scots and I will serve as a constitutional monarch." "How can you possibly know all this?" asked the FM. "I did say they were predictions, but my wealth will be backing the SNP all the way," Donnie replied. "By the time of the election you will have a significant war-chest for the campaign. I will also bankroll a 'yes' campaign for the referendum when the time comes." "And how can you be so sure that you will be able to influence Westminster?" "By the time we make a Unilateral Declaration of Independence, I will be behind the production of almost ten percent of the food that the UK eats," Donnie informed him. "That figure will be growing. I will also have access to vast quantities of minerals and other resources that Westminster will be desperate to get its hands on. Believe me; I will be able to influence them." "I won't deny that it all sounds like a dream come true," said an excited FM. "Achieving independence and restoring a truly Scottish Royal Family is something that seems beyond my wildest imagination!" "Why not make it a reality?" urged Donnie. Alex Salmond seemed to consider that for a moment and then he handed Donnie the letter. He bowed. "I think we have an agreement, your Grace." Donnie smiled at the Scottish use of 'Grace' rather than 'Majesty'. The First Minister clearly knew his history too. "All of this has to remain top secret until after the independence vote," cautioned Donnie. "And that brings me to another matter. I have reason to believe that your Special Advisor, Anthony Brown is working for MI5." "What!?" exclaimed Salmond. In an afternoon already full of mind-blowing surprises, this revelation was another shock for the FM. "I believe his real name is Anthony Guildford," Donnie explained. "He was recruited after he left Baliol College, Oxford, probably by someone he met while he was a student there – a man called Fergus Malloy." "But I've known Anthony for almost four years," argued Salmond. "It's just not possible." "I'm pretty sure I'm right," said Donnie. "He's working undercover to give MI5 information on what your plans are for breaking up the Union with the rest of the UK. Believe me, he is a dangerous man." "What proof have you got?" asked the FM. Donnie took another folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over. "This is a photo from Baliol College taken fifteen years ago," he explained. "If you look at the face of the man third from the right in the middle row, I think you will recognise him. Now cross-reference that with the names given along the bottom." The First Minister was doing exactly as Donnie suggested. "Okay, this might be evidence that he had a different name whilst at University," conceded Salmond, "but there could be any number of explanations for that." "Why don't you confront him and ask?" Donnie suggested. "Just make sure that you have security with you when you do." ------- Donnie had a further meeting with Archie. He had mulled over the information about Malloy and had come to a decision. Knowing what Malloy would do in the future and the memory of the decline of humanity that he had witnessed helped stiffen Donnie's resolve. It had also given him an idea. "Archie, I want to ask you to do something about Malloy," he said. "I want to bankroll a team to keep him under surveillance twenty-four hours a day. I want one of the team to be a guy called Eric Black – he's currently serving in Afghanistan. If you can recruit Louise Coleman and Jack Wilcox at the same time that would be great. She's in military intelligence and he's a pilot, but has Commander rank." Archie gave Donnie a puzzled look. "How do you know these people even exist?" he asked. "And if they're serving soldiers or intelligence officers, how can you expect me to recruit them to do a job for us?" "I can do something about their discharge dates if that would help, Dòmhnall." Donnie heard the goddess offer. He smiled at Archie "Have you ever heard the term 'this is his second time around'?" Donnie laughed. "I just have the feeling that my Mojo as you call it will somehow make them available." "Okay, I'm sorry I asked," grumbled Archie, still confused at some of the things Donnie seemed able to do. "I can also get a couple of other people I know who can lend a bit of muscle." "Fine," agreed Donnie. "It's just, from what I 'know' about this Malloy, I have the feeling that if we watch him long enough, we'll find something I can use against him." ------- A different advisor called Donnie and invited him to the First Minister's weekly briefing. He wondered whether that might signify that Alex Salmond had followed his advice and confronted Anthony Brown. His guess was confirmed when he met up with the FM at St Andrew's House. "I knew right away," the FM explained. "The colour drained from his face when I showed him the photograph you gave me. He didn't say a word, just turned and walked out. I've had people reviewing everything he's had access to over the past few years to assess the potential damage he could cause." ------- It was nearly two months later that Archie came calling on Donnie with an update on Malloy. "He's dirty," spat Archie, clearly offended that someone would betray his country. "In what way is he dirty?" asked Donnie. "He's been meeting with the Chinese – oh, and guess who else has turned up?" Archie asked. "Who?" "Guildford/Brown," Archie told him. "Why are they meeting the Chinese?" Donnie asked. "Well, first of all I have to say thanks for putting me on to Eric Black," said Archie. "That man is a genius when it comes to IT. That's how I can answer your question. Eric has hacked into the MI5 IT system and it turns out that Malloy has an entire section keeping tabs on some Indian nationals. I suspect that he's been selling the intelligence he's been getting to the Chinese." "You've lost me," groaned Donnie. "Why would China be interested in India?" "Because China and India are the two fastest growing economies in the world," explained Archie (having read some of the material Eric had hacked). "It's simple; they're in competition with each other, so the Chinese are willing to pay for anything that will give them an edge." "Do we have any evidence to back this up?" Donnie asked. In answer Archie threw a sheaf of photographs onto the table. Donnie picked them up and started looking through them. The scene was an upmarket restaurant and Malloy and Guildford/Brown were sitting at a table with two Chinese men. "That's Fortrose, a swanky restaurant in London," Archie explained. He watched as Donnie looked at each photograph and anticipated when he was about to reach the best one. "And that, as they say, is the money shot!" Archie laughed. He was laughing at his own little joke as the next photograph showed one of the Chinese men handing over an envelope which clearly contained a wad of cash. "How do we use these?" Donnie asked. "It just so happens that Louise has plenty of contacts who are still serving in Military Intelligence," said Archie. "I thought we could just let her hand over some copies of these and let the British security forces remove your problem for you." "I like the irony of that," grinned Donnie. ------- Ardbrecknish, Argyll, Scotland – May 2011 Donnie arrived at the Ardbrecknish site to review progress. Carol had done a remarkable job, admittedly paying over the odds to achieve it. The fact that most of the construction was either pouring concrete or erecting pre-fabricated steel had of course helped speed things up. Donnie couldn't believe that everything was done in just over a year. Food production was in full swing. The Scottish elections were only three days away. He wandered over to the shores of Loch Awe and enjoyed the scenery in the bright sunshine. The home that he would share with his four girls was also finished and it was just as he remembered it. Entering through the front door, Donnie laughed as Rory started running round, sniffing in every corner. "Things are going well," he thought to himself. "The first silo farms are nearing completion in other countries and Bill White has got the first recycling plant in operation already too. "The money is rolling in and my influence will only increase as more and more countries become reliant on my patented designs. The education programme is underway in eight different countries and the polar ice-caps have actually grown! "Vivien and her mother have agreed to move to Ardbrecknish and my plans to meet Lizzie and Amira are just about finalised. It doesn't get much better than this." "Yes, you have done very well indeed, Dòmhnall. You worked everything out in the end and your plans on coming back in time were well thought through. I have trained you well!" "Why, goddess?" "What do you mean, Dòmhnall?" "Why did you choose me, why have you trained me and helped me the way you have?" "Perhaps it is not only your First Minister who wants to see a true Scotsman back on the throne of this great country of ours? You are the rightful King, Dòmhnall. I have simply returned things to the way they should be. What is it they say ... oh, yes. Alba gu Brath!" ------- The End ------- Posted: 2011-02-19 Last Modified: 2011-04-01 / 01:51:40 pm ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------