Her damaged face was never capable of much expression, but Ellis could see the stricken look in her eyes. ‘Is the building secure?’
‘A temporary barricade has been erected outside the front doors.’
‘Well, I gather barricades are a tradition in that part of London.’
‘Indeed, Commander. The blast doors are down. The Pod Bay and Security Section are locked down. The atrium took heavy fire but nothing’s in flames, nothing has fallen down, and probably everything is repairable and it could have been worse. Except . . .’ He stopped again.
She sighed. ‘Give me the bad news, Major.’
‘They destroyed the clock.’
Every organisation has its symbol, its totem, its logo. The Time Police had their clock. For them, the clock symbolised Time. Every year, on a certain date, at a certain time, they Stopped the Clock – the ceremony in which they honoured those lost in the Time Wars and afterwards. The ceremony was important to them. The clock was important to them. And now it was destroyed. Its giant tick silenced. Its mighty pendulum still.
Hay gritted her teeth. ‘They’ll pay for that, Major.’
‘I am gratified to hear you say so, Commander.’
‘What about civilian casualties?’
‘Some. And front-of-house staff, too. The civilian police are calling it a terrorist attack.’
Ellis frowned. ‘Why would they attack their own people, ma’am? There wasn’t anyone of any value captured. They probably can’t tell us anything we don’t already know.’
‘Perhaps,’ she said slowly, looking around, ‘they thought there was someone of value here and they couldn’t take the risk.’
He looked around. ‘So where is this valuable person? Or persons?’
‘Not here, obviously. And there’s a missing pod . . .’
‘And two missing operatives.’
‘That would be Nuñez and Klein?’ said Callen in her ear. ‘Are they accounted for?’
There was a long pause. Commander Hay swore silently. This was not how she would have chosen to break the news to Nuñez and Klein’s commanding officer.
His voice sounded in her ear. ‘Commander Hay . . . are you still there?’
‘Major Callen, could you join me here at Shoreditch, please.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes, now, please.’
‘The situation here is not . . .’
‘Elect a replacement and join me immediately, please.’
‘As you wish, Commander.’
The line went dead.
She turned back to Ellis. ‘They’re sending a message to anyone who might have thought of spilling even a few beans. Nowhere is safe from us. And a message to us too. We have the resources. We can take you on.’
Ellis nodded. ‘And don’t forget, ma’am: Imogen Farnborough said in her statement that there are moves afoot to change the legislation. Perhaps to allow time travel again. If so, these people would be well ahead of the game. All set up and ready to go. Someone could make an absolute packet.’
‘Someone with pods, resources, people, equipment, customers, everything they need already in place.’
‘Exactly, ma’am.’
‘And, I’m sure this is no coincidence, at exactly the moment politicians are endeavouring to clip our wings.’
‘Exactly, ma’am.’
‘Assemble a strike force, Major. We’ll wait for Major Callen. In the meantime, I want to know where Lockland and Parrish have got to. I want to know who was here they don’t want us to speak to. I particularly want to know who “they” are, because at the moment we don’t have a clue. And most importantly, I want to know where that missing pod went. And what it did when it got there.’
‘Already on it, ma’am.’
37
Jane and Luke huddled together in the scant shelter of the Site X building. The wind was getting up and more snow swirled around them. Jane had propped a shivering Luke against the wall and was trying to think thoughts that didn’t centre on how cold she was. What to do next. Where to go. How to survive. The landscape was monochromatic. The sky was grey and heavy with snow. In the mid-distance, cliffs reared up, dark against the sky. There might be caves, perhaps. Although it seemed safe to assume they would be occupied already. At the foot of the cliffs Jane could see trees, thick with more snow. In fact, white snow lay over everything. If the sun ever shone, the sight would be dazzling. For the two of them though, it would be deadly. They couldn’t withstand these temperatures. Not without cold weather gear. And probably not with cold weather gear, either.
Luke leaned against the wall, feeling the cold surface through his clothes. He was shivering uncontrollably and his chest hurt badly. A couple of damaged ribs, he guessed. Even breathing hurt. His eyes had swelled to such an extent that he couldn’t see that well either.
‘Jane, I’m sorry,’ he said through chattering teeth. ‘In addition to being the brains of the team, I’m afraid you’re going to have to be the eyes and the muscle as well while we work our way out of this particular predicamentette.’
‘Well,’ she said, trying to stamp her feet, ‘our first priority should be . . .’
She fell over.
Luke blinked. ‘Jane – where did you go?’
‘Down here,’ she said. ‘I tripped over something. Oh.’
‘What? Hurry up, I’m freezing here.’
‘Not for long. Look.’
‘Can’t see very well.’
‘Clothing, Luke. It’s snowsuits. Cold weather gear.’ She held up a grey and white jacket.
‘You’re kidding.’
‘I am not.’
Luke began to wonder if he was light-headed. ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘Neither do I,’ she said, ‘but I’m not going to argue.’
‘How did it get here?’
‘Who knows? Who cares? Let’s get you dressed.’
He wrapped his arms around himself. ‘Actually, Jane, no. It’s going to take me ages. Do yourself first.’
‘Luke, I . . .’
‘No – it’s sensible. Of the two of us, you have the greater chance of survival. If you’re alive you can do your best to keep me alive. If anything happens to you then I’m finished too, so get your gear on.’