Needless to say, this lot clearly hadn’t read the Handbook for Villains. They were quick and professional. They fanned out and charged simultaneously.
Fire truck, thought Jane, momentarily paralysed.
‘Baton, you thicko,’ shouted Bolshy Jane, jolting her back to the moment.
Jane flicked open her baton – its range was greater than that of the advancing man’s cudgel – and prepared for her first street fight.
The Time Police have a procedure for this sort of thing. The first stage is to draw batons. The second is to flourish them in a menacing manner, making sure all their prospective assailants get a good view of the shit coming their way any moment now. Having done that, the third is to raise the baton and begin the advance.
‘Remember,’ said Luke. ‘Five paces. One . . . two . . .’
Jane picked her target – a small rat-like man on her left who had made the mistake of thinking she would be the weak link.
At five paces, they broke into a run, batons at head height. Jane opened her mouth and yelled. Partly to frighten the opposition and partly to give herself courage. Rat man filled her vision. She swung her baton, aiming for his upper arm. She struck hard, not letting the knowledge this was her first live target to overcome her instinct to survive.
He yelled in pain. She whipped it back again across his thigh. He screamed this time.
‘Stay together,’ shouted Luke. ‘Watch your backs. Stay defensive. Don’t let them split us up.’
Trusting Matthew to have her other side, Jane swung again, cracking rat man’s shin. That was him out of the fight.
‘Remember your training,’ said Bolshy Jane, who could, on occasions, be useful. ‘Concentrate on what’s around you but be aware of your flanks and rear.’
Her left side was brick wall. Her rear was more brick wall. Matthew was on her right. She could do this.
Rat man was on the ground. She gave him a quick stringing to keep him there and turned her attention to her right. Matthew had engaged two of them. Where Luke was and what he was up to was anyone’s guess.
Jane moved away from the protection of the wall to get behind Matthew’s assailants and fetched one a stinging blow across the kidneys – a painful and disabling move straight from the pages of the unofficial Time Police training manual – a considerably more useful handbook than the official version.
Sadly, his leather doublet protected him to a great extent and he whirled around to deal with this new threat. That she was female certainly surprised him. Jane fumbled with her string, aiming for his arms. It was more important to disarm the weapon than the man. Although if he wanted to run away, she would have no problem with that.
The man looked down at the rapidly hardening yellow festoons with surprise and she seized the opportunity to whack him one across his thigh. Down he went.
Oh my God, that’s two, thought Jane. I’m a proper utter bastard now.
Someone crashed into her, knocking her to the ground. Time Police procedures are very clear about lying on the ground in the middle of a street fight. Don’t.
She rolled to get clear and collided with rat man, still struggling to break free of his string. His free hand grabbed for her and quite instinctively she stringed his face.
He yelled. Opening his mouth was not a wise move. She filled it with liquid string. Rolling again, she left him to it. Matthew was struggling – his baton lay on the ground. Down the street, two of them had pushed Luke against the wall. Even as she looked, he brought up his knee and gouged at one assailant’s eyes. It occurred to Jane that Imogen probably wasn’t the only one who’d had anti-kidnap training.
Matthew still needed her. Adrenalin fizzing, with a yell, she waded in, baton swinging. To the left. To the right. To the left again. And squirt the string. The bloody stuff didn’t harden quickly enough, that was the problem. The small part of her mind not concentrating on staying alive made a note to mention this in her report.
One of Luke’s assailants whirled about and ran straight into her. She fell to the ground again, hitting her head. There was the sound of footsteps running away and then Matthew’s face appeared.
‘All right?’ He pulled her to her feet.
She looked down at herself. Dishevelled and muddy but everything seemed to be in the right place and more or less functioning normally.
‘Yes,’ she said in disbelief. And then, more strongly, ‘Yes. You?’
‘Fine. Where’s our fearless leader?’
‘Here,’ said Luke, pushing himself off the wall. He looked at the two on the ground. ‘Did we win?’
‘We did but they’ll be back. With friends.’
‘Who were they?’ said Matthew, looking around.
Luke shrugged. ‘Street thieves, perhaps, who thought we’d be an easy target.’
‘They got that wrong,’ said Matthew in some satisfaction.
Jane wiped the sweat from her face. ‘I thought they might be connected to Imogen’s nice young men.’
‘If so,’ said Luke, stowing his baton, ‘she’s really got herself in with the wrong crowd and we should get out of here as quickly as possible. Everyone back to the pod. Mission accomplished.’
They turned.
No, it wasn’t. Imogen Farnborough had disappeared.
6
Team 236 stared about them in dismay. At some point in the proceedings, she’d buggered off. Jane’s first reaction was that Luke had done the right thing when he’d ditched Imogen Farnborough. That girl really was more trouble than she was worth.
Luke was looking up and down the deserted street. ‘Did someone grab her while we were busy?’
‘No one got past me,’ said Jane stoutly.
Matthew shook his head in agreement.
‘She ran away again,’ said Luke in disgust. ‘We saved her from that bunch of thugs and she just pushed off.’
‘Now what?’ said Jane, stowing her baton and checking her aerosol. ‘Because I’m nearly out of string.’
Matthew nodded.
‘Back to the pod,’ said Luke. ‘We don’t have a lot of choice. They might be back with reinforcements. We’ll clean ourselves up, recharge our weapons – and ourselves – and formulate our next plan of action. God knows where the silly bint is by now. This way.’
Jane stood still, frowning.
‘Jane? What is it? Are you hurt?’
‘She thought we were sent by Eric to save her but what she actually got was not so much a knight in shining armour as a pair of tatty wimps and an ex-boyfriend.’