There were no rickety bus rides for the children on departure day. September 14th, 2013 was
bright and clear at 7 am, with a slight westerly breeze that ruffled their hair whilst they were
standing in the meadow near Brecon. Wolf could see a difference after three weeks of hard
training. Even the youngest, Timmo wasn’t tempted to explore the River Usk to their left as
the trout leapt from the surface to gobble the early morning insects that buzzed above its clear
waters. They were all serious and quiet, contemplating the visit home. The helicopter landed
like a noisy tornado assaulting every one of their senses, which were already strained to
breaking point. The children were about to start a mission that brave SAS soldiers would fear.
Quickly they climbed aboard the machine as there was only a few hours left before meeting
up with Brett in London.
The aerial trip from Brecon to Christleton was still novel but because of the occasion it
wasn’t exciting. As the helicopter landed next to the village duck pond, Wolf reminded them
that they had precisely one hour to see their parents. He had agreed the strategy with Brett.
Any longer and they all might let their emotions overwhelm them. Marshall remained hidden
inside the fuselage of the helicopter, whilst the others quickly ran to their homes. It made him
realise how important it was to have a mum and dad. In fact, it made him extremely sad. Wolf
deliberately left Marshall alone, instead he stood outside talking with the pilot and co-pilot in
the early morning sun and telling the odd nosey villager that The Duke and Duchess of
Cambridge wanted privacy during their secret visit.
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The first person to reach home was Roger. His mother air-kissed his cheeks, first the left and
then the right and his father shook hands like a real man, but Roger really needed a hug. He
also felt hurt by Licko’s lack of attention. The dog avoided Roger for the first time since he
was a tiny puppy. Licko had a manic look across his muzzle and was flailing saliva around
the room, as he leapt from chair to chair in non-stop motion.
Rupert shouted at Licko but without any success. ‘Licko, come here! Come here now!’ The
dog ignored his master for a full minute before careering out of the open door and racing
down the street towards Kate’s house.
The father turned to his son. ‘They say animals pick up on things Roger. They have keen
senses and understand our emotions better than other people.’ He patted Roger’s head, ‘come
and sit in the kitchen old boy and tell us what you have been up to.’ He looked at his son.
‘You will tell us everything? Won’t you?’
‘Of course father.’ Roger replied. Whilst the adults sat at the pine kitchen table drinking their
cafetiere of coffee and staring at him, he proceeded to tell them 10 per cent of what had really
happened over the last three weeks. He made it out to be like a PGL holiday, pure excitement
and no stress, all so that they wouldn’t worry about him.
Their only comment was how much stronger and fitter he looked, ‘turning into a fine young
man.’
Brett had visited Jack and Timmo’s home the day before, as their parents were a special case
with two sons involved. He had talked to Jennifer and Jonathan in the privacy of the garden.
‘So that is the plan. No one else knows all these details but we wanted to tell you the truth as
it affects both of your children.’
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Jonathan was holding Jennifer’s hand as he asked, his voice quavered. ‘Why us and why give
us details now? You said it was all covered by the official secrets act.’
‘Because you Jonathan were the most worried about everything and because you can talk to
Roger and Kate’s parents if...’ there was a pregnant pause.
Jennifer intervened. She squeezed her husband’s hand as she was speaking. ‘There will be no
if anything happens. My boys will come back to me and so will their friends.’
But that was yesterday, now they could hear their boys rummaging around the kitchen as they
searched for a bottle of Coke. For a moment the two adults stayed still and silent as they sat
in the lounge. They listened to the excited chatter, the love and support between the brothers.
Jennifer and Jonathan followed them to the kitchen where they were shown a Swiss army
penknife by Jack. He was excited as he demonstrated the specialist tools. A mini-drill, a
screw driver, Allen-keys and of course a sharp knife. Timmo had gone up to his room
immediately upon his return. Now he looked like an ant as he was wearing a pair of 3D
glasses he had stolen from the local multiplex cinema. After Oreos and Coke, the boys
happily hugged their mum and dad goodbye and insisted on racing back to the helicopter
without them. It was a good idea, it left the parents to cry in private. Neither of the boys
could appreciate the seriousness of their situations, but now one set of parents truly realised
the magnitude of the mission.
As Kate pushed the kitchen door inwards, she saw Wispy the cat jumping from the table to a
chair and then immediately back to the table. She then repeated this without a pause three
times before leaping to different chair. She continued her erratic rampage across the furniture
and completely ignored Kate as she entered. The cat only stopped when grandma appeared
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but as she came down the stairs, it immediately prompted Wispy to shoot through the open
door and scurry up the nearest tree.
‘Katey my dear, come here and have a big hug.’ Kate stepped lightly across the tiled floor to
her grandma who immediately pulled her close. Grandma whispered into her ear, ‘since your
mummy died, I have tried to teach you all I know about life and living. Not existing, anyone
can do that. I mean living, making a difference in this world and...’
Katey interrupted ‘Please grandma, no emotional thoughts today, it’s too hard leaving you as
it is.’
Grandma decided not to tell her that she was a spy in World War ІІ, any good advice on how
to behave would wait. ‘Listen my lovely girl, I love you more than you will ever know, and I
know, your mummy is proud of you.’ They both started to sob gently whilst still in each other
arms. ‘She came to me last night in a dream. Your mum, she spoke to me.’ Kate pulled back
slightly and looked into her grandma’s serious eyes.
‘What?’ She took a deep breath, ‘what did she say?’
Grandma grasped Katy’s hands tightly in her own before she responded. ‘She said that when
all seems lost you should be yourself my dear.’
‘I’m sorry grandma, I don’t understand the message.’
‘Neither do I my dear, neither do I, but I know you must remember the words, because you
are travelling into peril.’ Both of them remained silent for the rest of the time before Kate’s
departure. They said their goodbyes and then Kate kissed her cheek and slowly walked alone
down the cottage garden path towards the helicopter that already contained Roger, Jack,
Marshall and Timmo. At the gate, she turned to wave goodbye and was nearly knocked off
her feet by Licko as he sped into the garden and ran around the oak tree madly barking at
Wispy who was sat high in the branches.
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Grandma blew her a second kiss and shouted in a wavering voice.
‘Be yourself Katey, remember, be yourself.’ And then she slowly closed the cottage door on
her granddaughter to make the parting a little easier.
Inside the helicopter, she whispered to Jack, telling him about the conversation with grandma.
‘I felt strange Jack. It wasn’t just the emotions surrounding leaving or apprehension about our
mission. It was as if there was a hidden presence watching me. Even Wispy and Licko were
acting strangely.’
‘So what was it all about do you think?’ Jack asked as she settled into the leather bucket seat
and fastened her seat belt.
‘Something and nothing. We shall see.’
The helicopter rose smoothly and rotated towards London with five quiet children
contemplating the families left behind them in their past, their old lives, and wondering about
the unpredictable future of the mission.
* * *
The children waited with Wolf and Brett in a black Transit minibus in the secure underground
car park located deep beneath The Houses of Parliament. There were no other vehicles
nearby as the police had quarantined the area, although no one would have seen their faces
hidden behind the darkened glass. The situation was tense, everyone had remained quiet since
boarding the bus at the RAF Northolt airfield in West London.
Wolf handed Jack a bright red memory stick. ‘We need to know more about the planned
cyber attack. You have to find access to the brain of the neural computer network that the
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terrorists are using and then plug this search and acquire device into a USB socket. Notice
that you can twist it to alter the type of connector. If in doubt plug it in to anything connected
to the brain.’
Roger was sat next to Jack. ‘Won’t it be detected by their anti-virus software as a bug?’
‘No, we have better boffins than that, but the search and acquire program will take at least
two minutes to function correctly. Allowing 30 seconds for your access and the same for an
exit, you need three minutes with no prying eyes.’
Jack weighed the memory stick in his hand. ‘I’ll hide it inside the secret compartment in the
heel of my Nikes. But how do I get the data back to you?’
Brett clasped a gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘I will be at The Outspan hotel in Kenya as your
back up. It’s no more than 30 kilometres away. The only way is to physically give us the
device. Maybe through a trusted informer? Even by bribing a local native with your secret
stash of dollars? We can’t predict anything, but you will find a way. I trust you Jack.’ He gave
Jack a slip of paper with the latitude and longitude of the hotel written on it. ‘Learn it and
remember it, you have one minute and then I need it back please.’
Wolf spoke. ‘It’s time.’
They all emptied out of the van and followed him towards the secret passage that led from the
carpark to The Embankment and MM’s boat that was berthed 100 metres above. Little did
they know, but the tunnel and stairs was on the exact spot where Guy Fawkes had failed to
blow up Parliament. After a few minutes climbing, Wolf moved to one side and let the
children file past. He stood next to Brett. Wolf called after them as they turned the final
corner in the passageway and were lost to sight. ‘Remember your training everyone.
Remember to stay safe, nothing else really matters.’ He turned abruptly and walked back
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towards the minibus. Both men were quiet for a few moments before Wolf’s comment. ‘The
dice have been rolled my friend, let’s hope they win the game.’
Wolf drove the Transit back towards Northolt to drop off Brett. The yank faced a long flight
to Nairobi, Kenya, where he would pick up his CIA modified Hummer and drive to the
Outspan hotel at Nyere. Then all that both men could do was to sit and wait for the enemy’s
next move.
* * *
Twip Twop stood on the gangplank that led from the pontoon to a sleek black boat. He was indirect contrast to the boat as he gleamed white in the bright sun; his starched sailor’s uniform
merging with his skin to make him look like a bright white dummy motionless in a shop
window. He twitched nervously as the children approached, so they noticed that in his right
hand was a scanner, a metal detector like at airports. As each child walked on board, he
checked them over silently. Roger was his only victim as the scanner bleeped furiously when
located next to Roger’s right trouser pocket.
Twip Twop admired the mobile that had triggered the alarm. ‘Nice phone mister, an IPhone6,
but there are no mobiles allowed where you are going so you won’t be having a girly chit
chat with your mumsy.’
‘I can’t live without my IPhone,’ protested Roger as he stared with fascination into Twip
Twop’s pink eyes. He realised this was the first albino he had ever met but then Roger
dropped his gaze after a few seconds. The stare he had received from Twip Twop was too
scary.
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‘At least you have a mobile to be confiscated,’ murmured Kate. Grandma didn’t believe in
mobiles, she had even resisted broadband for a year before caving in to her grand-daughter.
The rest of the children settled on board the boat and listened attentively to a weird thin man
with a mop of unkempt red hair who stood at the bow.
‘My name is Techno. The man in white is Twip Twop and we will be looking after you on the
first stage of your adventure to meet Madame Musseine.’ He was surprised as no one seemed
to be very excited. He built her up. ‘The MM, the greatest gamemaster in the whole wide
world.’
‘Alright,’ came a couple of dull replies from the children. Techno gave up and turned away to
start the engines. He waved at Twip Twop to cast off the warps they attached them to the
wooden pontoon and then he slowly edged the boat away. After a few moments, it gathered
speed in the outward flow of a slowly moving neap tide that was heading towards the sea at
Southend.
Timmo was excited by the superb speedboat. As they sped down the river and under the arch
of Tower Bridge he asked Roger a question. ‘It looks like a Sunseeker, what do you think
splodger? About 25 metres?’
Roger was more interested in the bridge looming above them. ‘Did you know it was opened
in 1894? The roadway opens upwards into two halves as it is a bascule and suspension bridge
combined.’ Timmo looked back dimly. ‘Bascule of course means see saw in French.’
‘Whatever,’ came from Jack who was sat behind them.
Roger droned on. ‘To open the two 1000 ton bridges requires exceptional hydraulics you
know.’ Timmo queried whether the drawbridge was powered by compressed air. ‘No dimmo,
it’s water, that is what hydraulics means. Pneumatic is the word describing air powered
machine, surely everyone knows that?’ No one did know it, which is why they all kept quiet.
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In fact, no one was interested except Roger himself, he was the intelligentsia of the gang and
had the answer to most questions if they were ever stuck.
Then Jack asked Techno a question. He chose Techno as Twip Twop appeared distracted,
even slightly demented. He was sat on the stern waving at the tourists on the bridge and
shouting ‘God save The Queen, long may her corgis reign over us.’
‘Mr, Techno?’ He waited politely until Techno had glanced back at him. ‘Are we collecting
anymore gamers sir?’
‘No more gamers George. The game was a global edition and you are the top five kids from
the UK.’
Kate spoke up. ‘We are certainly not kids Mr Techno, we are children, not baby goats.
‘Nearly adults,’ added Jack.
Techno looked back at them in distaste and narrowly missed a Thames barge moored on the
port side of the river. The boat had accelerated to nearly 80 kilometres per hour. ‘Nearly is a
good word. Adults wouldn’t be able to comprehend the magnificence of “world domination”,
the game that is so real, you would think it is real.’ Twip Twop was listening and burst into
maniacal laughter at his fellow henchman’s joke.
As they followed the curve of The River Thames around Canary Wharf’s twin towers, it was
Roger’s turn to pose a question to Techno. ‘I say old chap, isn’t it an 15 kph speed limit?’
Techno answered by thrusting the throttle forward and increasing their speed to 130
kilometres per hour as they forged past the giant O2 stadium. ‘So what PS?’ Splodger
immediately realised they were his initials but the others sat confused waiting for some
additional information as surely PS meant postscript?
Roger asked again. ‘So what about The Police, they’ll send a launch to stop you, won’t they?’
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Techno didn’t bother to address PS directly. Instead he shouted into the wind, ‘let them try,’
and then he shoved the throttle lever forward a centimetre at a time with the palm of his
scrawny hand. They noticed the missing little finger on the hand grasping the steering wheel
as they were pushed back in their black vinyl seats by the force of the acceleration, with Twip
Twop screaming uncontrollably with joy.
Timmo was wetting himself with excitement. As the engineering nut who loved Top Gear,
this was fabtastic. He tugged at Techno’s arm, as the wind noise was now horrific and howled
above their heads like a banshee.
‘Is this a Sunseeker with twin 200 horsepower petrol engines? I read it can do 80 kilometres
per hour?’
Techno laughed. ‘Not this baby and not that slow. It has two hydrogen engines and can do
1200 kilometres per hour!’
‘That’s impossible, no boat can do that speed, we would break the speed of sound.’ Timmo
was quietly confident in his statement but as the boat turned to starboard to head down The
English Channel, Techno’s hand whizzed across the computer touch screen in front of him to
adjust the engine settings. Underneath the boat, the high tech hydrofoils extended in a matter
of seconds and lifted the hull out of the water.
He shouted to Timmo. ‘That reduces the hull’s drag coefficient by 95 per cent.’ Techno
touched the screen again and from the sides of the boat leading up to the bow a carbon fibre
cover extended across the whole hull shaping it like a torpedo. As the sky disappeared above
them, the low level lighting automatically switched on beneath their feet. ‘And that little
George reduces the drag coefficient of the decking by another 95 per cent. So did you say it
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was impossible?’ Techno rammed the throttle forward and sat back to watch his computer
screen as the autopilot guided the boat towards its destination.
Above them and at the stern, two aerodynamic wings deployed as the computer tweaked the
optimal settings and ensured it sent them skimming across the water. A sonic boom was heard
by the crew on the 700,000 tonne oil tanker, off the Isle of Wight. The captain immediately
radioed the Coastguard station at Southampton Water using channel 16, the emergency
frequency as they thought they had seen a plane hit the water. It was all over in a flash and
they couldn’t be sure, but The Coastguard assured them it must be nothing as there was
nothing on their radar. They told the crew to keep a close watch on the situation and let them
know if they heard or saw anything else but by then the super speedboat and Jack’s gang
were 20 kilometres away and tucking into Doritos handed out by Twip Twop.
Timmo was still arguing with Techno. ‘It’s impossible to keep this speed up. You must run
out of fuel soon!’
‘Untrue my little friend. MM has some of the best engineers and scientists in the world
working for her at her base. We get our hydrogen from the seawater using micro fusion
technology.’
‘But no one has managed to control fusion as a nuclear power, it is inherently unstable, like
having a mini sun here on earth!’
‘Untrue again! Well the bit about the sun. The Japanese cracked the problem nearly six years
ago but have been slower to understand that particle deceleration is easy under water rather
than in a torus underground.’ Timmo sat quietly. The technology was bewildering. Jack
motioned at him by making a hand gesture that sliced across the front of his own neck. It was
telling Timmo to stop his questioning. Tim felt dim at that point and gulped in admiration of
his new geek ‘friend’. He sat with the rest of the children and watched the large TV screen to
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the left of the steering wheel. This alternately showed views in front, to the sides and the rear.
It flicked over to a different view every thirty seconds and so they could watch the day pass
by at speed. Techno told them that the journey was nearly 8000 kilometres and it was easy for
most of them to work out that an average speed of 1000 kilometres per hour, that would see
them at MM’s headquarters for a late evening meal.
* * *
The trip down The Channel was nearly completed before the accident. Roger insisted oncalling The Channel, “La Manche” as he had learned it in his French lessons at school but
Kate told the others that it also meant sleeve in French, which was very apt because of the
shape of the busiest sea lane in the world. They saw very few ships on their TV screen as they
were moving at a colossal speed and deliberately navigating away from the two shipping
lanes that are defined for use by ships travelling to the west or to the east. This was a simple
way of separating traffic like on a motorway. As they headed south-westward on the fringes
of the Bay of Biscay they were told to fasten their lap belts as even the smartest of the
computers controlling the speedboat’s attitude could sometimes malfunction. Each time this
happened they felt an almighty bump that shook their teeth. However, the bumps were few
and far between and so the children remained relaxed and played on the Nintendo DS5’s
handed out by Techno. The DS’s were linked by bluetooth which allowed the gang to play an
exciting speedboat racing game, specially designed by their pilot. Therefore, nobody noticed
Timmo as he unslipped his belt and moved to the stern of the boat so that he could examine
the engines beneath the perspex hatch. There was an almighty shout as the speedboat hit
another bump and Timmo flew 4 metres backwards across the cabin and then lay still. He had
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been knocked unconscious and lay with his lower left leg bent at an angle 20 degrees to
normal. Techno immediately slowed the boat and pressed the computer screen to activate the
emergency stabilising thrusters that spurted from four small holes in the hull.
Jack was the first to reach Timmo followed by Kit Kat.
She gently stroked his head. ‘Timmo, wake up Timmo, it’s Kate.’ She shook his shoulders
and called him again but there was no reaction.
‘He’s out cold Kit Kat,’ said Jack, ‘but don’t move him anymore in case he has a head injury.’
‘That would be the worse thing but look at his leg,’ added Roger, ‘I’m so sorry but that is
definitely broken.’
Techno bent alongside Timmo and quickly opened the first aid kit. Inside were smelling salts
that he held in a tube underneath Timmo’s nose. Within a few seconds his eyes flickered open
and unsteadily focussed on his friends.
‘What happened?’ He winced as he tried to move.
‘Don’t move bro,’ said Jack, ‘you got knocked off your feet mate.’ He kept his brother still
whilst Techno examined the leg.
‘Can you feel any pain in your left leg?’ Techno was holding either side of the break.
‘Well no, not really. I just feel really woozy.’ It was lucky he had been knocked unconscious
as the natural endorphins that killed pain had already kicked in before Timmo had woken up.
‘Well that makes it easier then,’ said Techno as he jerked the broken bone back into its correct
position with a horrible grinding sound. Timmo screamed so loud, the others thought their
eardrums would burst.
‘Why the hell did you do that weirdo?’ Timmo shouted. ‘Jesus wept, flipping hell.’ He was as
white as a sheet with a cold sweat on his forehead. ‘My god but it hurts now you flipping
mop head.’
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‘I did it, because it needed setting as soon as possible,’ replied Techno, ‘and you said you
were feeling no pain.’
‘Well it’s getting worse, for goodness sake.’ At that point Techno dug the hypodermic needle
into Timmo’s thigh, just above the break. He held the leg still so all Timmo could do was
weakly pummel the back of Techno’s shoulders. ‘What the…’ he swore badly.
‘Timmo, please.’ Kit Kat told him off. ‘Can you please stick with my god when you swear?’