‘At approximately 2200 hours local time, three pods, Numbers Three, Five, and Six touched down at a pre-programmed location in the Cretaceous period, some sixty-seven million years ago.
‘Acting on instructions, Miss Barclay, now Director Barclay, of course, assembled and fired an EMP device and once our opponents were rendered electronically helpless, security teams were despatched to inflict as much damage as possible during the twenty-minute length of the mission.
‘An unforeseen result of the firing of this pulse (although possibly not unforeseen by Director Barclay), was that it caused the cages containing the captured dinosaurs to unlock, thus releasing some twenty to thirty dangerous predators into the scene of operations.
‘As you can imagine, St Mary’s personnel began to make their way back to their pods with all possible speed.
‘However …’ I paused. You could have heard an earthworm sneeze. I had everybody’s rapt attention.
‘However, this retreat was further hindered by a massive and completely unexpected explosion, which threw everything into confusion and, according to Director Barclay here, resulted in the deaths of Chief Farrell, Major Guthrie, Mr Peterson, and Mr Markham.
‘On her return to this unit, Director Barclay reported the deaths of her colleagues, forbade any rescue attempts, appointed herself Caretaker Director, and has, ever since, been presiding over the gradual decline of this unit.’
I paused, looked around at her and pitched my voice so that it rang around the Hall.
‘You now have a choice to make … Director. You can, with immediate effect, remove yourself from my sight, thus effectively saving your life. You have ten minutes to leave this building. You may take absolutely nothing with you except your life. And you will be grateful. Or …’
I left it hanging.
She put her fists on her hips and stared me out. ‘Or what?’
She’d pulled herself together and was going to make a fight of it.
Good.
‘Or … Director … I will drag you down to Hawking by your hair. I will take you back to the Cretaceous Period. I will hurl you out into the night and slam the door behind you and I will leave you there, alone for ever, screaming for help that will never, ever come. I tell you now … Director … if I do this, no one here will lift a finger to save you. Your choice.’
‘I choose neither. Security – arrest this woman and hold her until I can arrange her incarceration.’
Behind her, Murdoch, now presumably Head of Security, and two or three others rose slowly to their feet.
I looked him in the eye. ‘Hawthorn.’
He froze, did nothing for long seconds, and then gestured to the others to sit down again. He himself moved quietly to the end of the row and stood, waiting to see what would happen next.
I turned back to Barclay. ‘That was your version of events. Now let’s hear the truth.’
She said, through gritted teeth, ‘That was the truth. They died. All four of them.’
I spoke directly to her, standing so that to face me, she had her back to the room.
‘Let’s talk about what actually did happen, shall we?’
‘I’ve told you already. Security –?
I cut across her.
‘At approximately 2205, the security teams left the pods. At approximately 2212, the explosion occurred. Of these facts, there is no doubt.
‘At 2215, Director Barclay despatched Mr Peterson to locate Chief Farrell and Major Guthrie, leaving her alone in the pod. At 2220, she ordered Miss Black to return to base, taking an injured Dr Bairstow with her. Two minutes later, she ordered me to return to St Mary’s; before I had time to report a missing Mr Markham.’
A stir ran through the hall. Murdoch lifted an arm and they fell silent.
‘Well?’ she said. ‘All this is on record. Tell me something I don’t know.’
‘I’ll tell you something I don’t know,’ I said, quietly. ‘I don’t know how you were so sure four of them were missing.’
‘I don’t understand.’
But she did. She’d gone so white I could see the freckles under her makeup. My heart-rate picked up. ‘Mr Markham was on my team, not yours. I reported him missing before you got back. I repeat – how did you know there were four men dead?’
Silence.
‘I’ll tell you what happened, Director.’ I made the very word an insult. ‘They came out of the smoke and explosions, running towards your pod, running for their lives, and you slammed and locked the door in their faces. You left those men there to die. Did you even hear them banging on the door? Did they scream your name? Beg to be let in? Do you ever hear them in your head, kicking at the door, hammering with their empty weapons? How long did you wait? You couldn’t jump too soon, could you? You had to be the last back. So you waited and waited and they screamed and screamed and then you pressed the button and you jumped to safety and you left those men. In the middle of a feeding frenzy; in the middle of a battleground, with no food, no water, and no shelter; you left them!’
Someone, I think it was Helen, drew a shuddering breath.