‘Nice,’ Harry says, wiping his mouth after gulping it down in one go.
Safa shrugs and drinks it in one motion. She looks at Ben over the rim of the mug, almost laughing out loud at the earnest, interested expression on his face. Like the Ben that was here in the beginning. That Ben. The nice Ben.
‘Was it nice?’ Ben asks as soon as she lowers the mug.
‘Was,’ she says. ‘What was in it?’
‘Drugs,’ Doctor Watson says with a lift of his eyebrows as he turns away back to his table.
‘Do you feel anything?’ Ben asks, looking from Safa to Harry.
‘Only just drunk it,’ Safa says.
Ben nods. ‘Roger,’ he says and waits for a few seconds. ‘How about now?’
‘Plan,’ Miri says, drawing their attention.
‘Ready,’ Safa says, walking over to the table.
‘No plan,’ Miri says. ‘Fluid. Snatch mission. Two adult males. Have any of you been to Cavendish Manor?’
‘Negative,’ Safa says.
‘Negative,’ Ben says, earning a look from Safa.
‘No,’ Harry says.
Miri continues without a flicker of reaction. ‘Fluid. Go fast. Sweep through the target premises. Bertram is the priority. Get the son. Get Roland. Return through the Blue . . .’
‘The what?’ Ben asks.
‘Blue,’ Miri says.
‘Time machine,’ the doctor says from behind them.
‘Time machine is Blue now, is it?’ Safa asks, staring at Miri.
‘Affirmative,’ Miri says.
‘Blue is cool,’ Ben says, nodding happily.
‘TM is better,’ Safa says. ‘We’ll get Roland,’ she says, casting a look at Miri, ‘and his son, then back through the TM . . .’
‘Blue,’ Miri says.
‘TM,’ Safa says.
Silence.
‘Device is Blue,’ Miri says.
‘Yeah, it’s also a time machine,’ Safa says.
Silence.
‘Awkward,’ Ben mumbles.
‘Flip a coin?’ Doctor Watson suggests amiably.
‘You got a coin?’ Ben asks him.
‘Ah, no, afraid not,’ he says.
‘Harry, you got a coin, mate?’
‘No.’
‘Ah, shame. Miri? You got one?’
‘Blue,’ Miri says.
‘TM,’ Safa says.
‘Righto,’ Ben says. ‘Er . . . vote?’
‘Device is Blue.’
‘We called it the TM before you arrived,’ Safa says.
‘Did we?’ Ben asks, looking at Harry, who goes back to picking crumbs from his shirt.
‘You were depressed,’ Safa says, still looking at Miri.
‘Depressed, not deaf,’ Ben says.
‘I have authority. Device is Blue. Fluid mission to . . .’
‘Right,’ Safa says brightly, turning to face Ben and Harry. ‘Fluid mission. We go in, grab the two subject males and come straight back to the TM. Understood?’
‘Aye,’ Harry says, nodding eagerly.
‘Roger,’ Ben says. ‘Grab the two blokes and come back through the Blue.’
‘HAHA,’ Harry laughs, grinning widely at Safa and Ben. ‘It’s funny because he keeps saying roger,’ he explains, pointing at Ben.
‘Urgh,’ Safa says, shaking her head. ‘I’m starting to buzz . . . What was in that drink?’
‘I told you. Drugs,’ Doctor Watson says.
‘Feel awake now, I do,’ says Harry. ‘Oh aye, wide awake. You feel awake, Safa? I feel awake now. We should have a run when we get back . . . Safa? Ben? You up for a run later?’
‘What did you give us?’ Safa asks, looking from Harry to the doctor. ‘It’s like cocaine or something . . .’
‘Um, not exactly cocaine . . .’
‘What? You gave Mad Harry Madden cocaine before a live job . . .’
‘It’s not cocaine,’ the doctor says, staring into the bottom of his mug.
‘COCAINE,’ Harry booms as Safa’s body starts to tingle. Her vision grows sharper, clearer, her mind whizzing fast and wide awake. The pain in her skull gone and her limbs thrumming with energy.
‘Holy shit,’ Safa groans, shaking her head again.
‘Really wasn’t cocaine.’
‘Fucking was,’ Safa says, very loud and very fast. ‘What the fuck are you thinking? Fuck it. We’re going. We’re off. We’ll get moving. We’re ready . . . Ben? You ready? Keep that weapon in the holster . . . I can’t believe he gave us cocaine, the bloody idiot.’
‘S’not cocaine.’
Miri gets the stopwatch on her wrist zeroed and ready, then finally lifts her eyebrows at the utter shambles going on in front of her. Unfortunately there is no choice but to press on. Roland and his son have to be secured. They are more important than any of these three idiots grinning at each other. Ben hasn’t even had any drugs. Why is he so happy? The British are a strange folk, for sure.
Five
‘Roland Cavendish. Last picture taken in the year 2046, so he will have aged,’ Tango Two says, turning the 3D image so everyone in the room can see.
‘Cosmetic surgery,’ Bravo cuts in quickly. ‘He may look the same as that. Exactly the same.’
‘Understood,’ Tango Two says, frowning as she reduces the image and brings the next one blooming up from the tablet on the desk. ‘Bertram Cavendish. Son of Roland Cavendish. Twenty-five years old. Lives in the family home. Intel suggests Bertram is the inventor of the new weapons system. He is the primary target. Is that correct?’ she asks, looking at Alpha, who nods. ‘Also in the family home we have Maria Cavendish, known to family and friends as Ria – twenty-two years old, daughter of Roland – and Susan Cavendish, wife of Roland and mother to Bertram and Maria. Er, there are no orders regarding them?’
‘Bertram and Roland are the priority,’ Alpha says.
‘Understood,’ Tango Two says smartly before continuing. ‘We have several army regiments currently deploying a ring of steel around the property. They are not tasked with entry but to secure the area only.’ She blooms out the image of the manor house.
‘How many agents and operatives have we got to deploy?’ Alpha asks, reaching a hand into the hologram to turn the image.
‘Thirty-two, not including your team,’ Tango Two says immediately. ‘Eighteen fully operational, eight coming to the end of their extended basic training packages and the remaining six are basic trained only.’
‘Understood,’ Alpha says. ‘I’ll take it from here, Tango Two. Good brief. We have a four-sided target premises. We stick with basic tactical colour coding,’ he says, enlarging the image so everyone can see the hologram of the front of the manor house. ‘The front is white side. The right side is green. The rear is black. The left side is red. Blue is the roof. Everyone clear?’ A slight pause. A heartbeat and nothing more. ‘Eight to white. Eight to black. Eight to green. Seven to red . . .’
‘Forgive me,’ Tango Two says, looking from Alpha to Bravo and then down to Echo while rapidly assimilating why Alpha has made a mistake, ‘that is thirty-one. There is one unaccounted for.’
‘Can you fastrope?’
‘I can,’ she says without a flicker of reaction.
‘Training only or live deployment?’
‘Both.’
‘You’ll deploy with us. When is the heli arriving?’