‘That is also a possibility.’
‘So we’re really on our own,’ said Luke.
‘I’m afraid so. Does this change anything? Speak now and I’ll cover you as far as Hay’s concerned.’
They looked at each other and then shook their heads. ‘We’ll sort ourselves out,’ said Luke. ‘Like Hunters.’
‘Have at it,’ said Ellis, getting up. ‘Just watch where and when you discuss things. Nothing outside of this room, and nothing beyond the three of you, me and Officer North, for obvious reasons. Run everything by me when you’ve got something and I’ll run it past Hay.’
‘Why?’ said Luke, bristling. ‘You just said we could sort ourselves out.’
‘Because – and again, I’m sure we covered this during training – she commands the Time Police and anyone attempting to implement any course of action without her knowledge, let alone her consent, will have an excellent opportunity to observe just how unpleasant she can be when she really puts her mind to it. And remember – keep it under your hats.’
‘Yes, we know,’ said Luke. ‘After all, it will be our lives on the line.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,’ said Ellis.
The door closed behind him. Team 236 looked at each other.
‘We need sandwiches,’ said Luke. ‘And coffee. Lots of paper and things to write with. In different colours. Not your notebook, Jane, because we’ll have to shred everything afterwards.’
‘Or burn it ourselves,’ said Matthew.
‘Yes, a better idea. We certainly won’t be shoving any of this down the corridor incineration chute.’
‘And we only work here in Briefing Room 3,’ said Jane. ‘If anyone asks, we’ve been tasked with analysing the Versailles time-slip and what went wrong. Part punishment, part training.’
‘Yes,’ said Matthew, ‘then when I trot off to the Time Map to do some theoretical work on time-slips no one will be surprised.’
‘I don’t think anyone’s surprised by us any longer anyway,’ said Jane, gloomily. ‘Did you know there’s a sweepstake running on exactly how we’ll manage to screw up our next assignment?’
‘We don’t screw up,’ said Matthew, annoyed. ‘That’s what’s so unjust. We get the job done. They just don’t like it because we don’t get it done the way they think we should get it done.’
There was a short silence as they considered this last sentence. ‘Yeah,’ said Luke. ‘And look where that’s got us.’
Gloom descended again.
‘Right,’ said Luke, rousing himself. ‘We play to our strengths. Matthew, you’re in charge of refreshments. Jane, you’re in charge of writing everything down, and I’ll tell everyone what to do. We’ll make a list of our assets, our talents and so forth. Then we’ll make a probably very much longer list of all the things we don’t have and can’t do – so we know what to avoid. Remember, nothing is too weird or too stupid to be considered. And . . . go.’
And go they did. They started after breakfast each morning, covering every flat surface in Briefing Room 3 with at least two layers of planning notes, all of which was to be carefully burned at the end of each day. A procedure which, they discovered, was not the best way to dispose of vast amounts of secure paperwork.
Major Ellis, watching them attempt to dry themselves out, gave them to understand that they were never, ever to do that again and a portable shredding machine would be made available for their use immediately, because attempting to burn huge quantities of paper in an indoor environment was now absolutely forbidden by order of Commander Hay and what the hell had they been thinking and were they aware they’d managed to set off the fire alarms and activate the automatic sprinkler system for the entire floor? People were looking for them, he added, menacingly. And not in a good way. He ended his bollocking with the observation that he would not have thought they could possibly make themselves any less popular, but, against all the odds, they’d managed it somehow, and look at this mess, and a hundred yards of sodden corridor carpet would have to be taken up and replaced because it smelled as if every cat in Battersea had pissed on it. And then died.
Jane sighed. ‘Are we on report again, sir?’
‘Almost certainly, but not until after your mission.’
‘Well, there’s an incentive to return safely,’ said Luke.
Ellis paused. ‘You will return safely. I wouldn’t let you do this if I didn’t think you could pull it off.’
‘And because Hay told you to.’
‘No.’ He sighed and sat on the edge of a table. ‘Believe it or not, there have been several instances where a team leader has declined an assignment with thanks.’
‘On what grounds?’
‘Grounds they have felt justified their actions.’
‘And she had them shot, presumably.’
‘No. Hay is a first-rate commander. She trusts her officers and it’s a two-way process. It has to be. If I didn’t think you could do this, I would have said no. On your behalf.’
‘So if we fail . . .’
‘If you fail then address your complaints to me.’
‘Posthumously, presumably.’
He sighed. ‘I have a horrible suspicion the silence of the grave will have no more success keeping you quiet than I’ve been able to achieve, Parrish, so yes, feel free.’
Two days after the unfortunate incident with the automatic sprinklers, Team 236 waited outside Major Ellis’s office, ostensibly to hand over the results of their time-slip investigations.
‘I’ll do the presenting,’ Luke had said to Jane and Matthew. ‘Because in public situations, Matthew has a vocabulary of four words and Jane’s cheeks will set the sprinklers off again.’ No one disagreed.
They filed in to face Commander Hay and Major Ellis.
‘Here’s our idea,’ said Luke, without any preamble. ‘Jane and I will occupy my old flat on the river. It’s still empty and tailor-made for our plans.’
‘And where have you been for the last six months, as far as the outside world is concerned?’
‘Rehab,’ said Luke, promptly. ‘That old standby. And it will make sense to everyone. Obviously dear old Dad shoved me into rehab after I was involved in an unfortunate incident and someone . . . died. Everyone knows about it. No one will be surprised. They always said I was just rehab waiting to happen.’