CHAPTER TWO

Bex gasped and pushed past Sam and Kieron. Crouching, she checked Bradley’s neck for a pulse. She could feel the blood in his carotid artery pulsing beneath her fingers, but it was slow and weak. ‘Fluttery’ was the word they used in TV medical dramas. His breathing seemed shallow.

‘He’s alive!’ she said. ‘Help me get him into the recovery position.’

Kieron and Sam joined in, getting their arms under Bradley’s shoulders and turning him onto his side. Bex lifted his eyelids. His pupils didn’t seem dilated, and they reacted to the light. Part of her – the professional part – was relieved that he didn’t seem injured: there was no evident blood anywhere, or any noticeable bruising. She glanced at the wooden floor. No blood there either. Maybe he’d just passed out. Another part of her – the part that cared for friends and family and didn’t want anything bad to happen – was panicking.

The two boys were hanging back, unsure what to do. ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Kieron asked nervously.

‘I don’t know. You said he’d fallen unconscious before. Maybe it happened again – not that that’s a good thing, but when we first got in here I thought he might have been attacked, or that he’d fallen and cracked his skull open.’ She glanced around at the small but neat lounge – sofa and two armchairs, side tables, large wall-mounted TV screen, bookcase. An empty cup sat on one of the side tables. ‘Maybe he got up to make a cup of tea, felt dizzy and passed out before he could sit down again.’

‘Should we call an ambulance?’ Sam said uncertainly.

‘Definitely not.’ She sat on the arm of the chair and leaned close to Bradley’s ear. ‘Bradley? Can you hear me? It’s Bex.’

His eyelids fluttered, and his lips moved, forming words that Bex couldn’t make out.

She put her hand on his forehead, checking his temperature. He didn’t seem to have a fever.

Eventually his eyes opened fully, and he rolled over onto his back. He glanced sideways to where she sat. ‘Bex? You’re here?’

‘Where else would I be?’ She ruffled his hair. ‘Honestly – I can’t leave you alone for a moment without you getting into trouble.’

‘And what about you?’ he asked, trying to pull himself up into more of a sitting position. ‘Nuclear weapons? Gunfights in Pakistan?’

She grimaced. ‘Yeah – that wasn’t on the original travel itinerary.’ She watched him as he sipped the water again. He had more colour in his cheeks now, and he seemed to be gaining strength, but she thought his hands were trembling slightly. She turned to where Kieron and Sam were watching from over by the door to the kitchen. ‘Guys, can you give us a few minutes? We need to talk, and it has to be private.’

Kieron nodded, and pushed Sam into the kitchen. Seconds later Bex heard the radio come on. It seemed to be some middle-of-the-road rock station playing what she thought was Chris Rea’s ‘The Road to Hell, Part 2’. Before the intro was over she heard Sam saying, ‘Oh, come on – this is old people’s music. Isn’t there some screamo or darkwave station around we can tune into?’

‘Maybe,’ Kieron replied. ‘It’s a digital radio – there could be anything out there if we just rescan. If we can’t find anything, I’ll just plug my phone into the audio socket.’

Leaving them to it, she turned back to Bradley. ‘Honestly now – how are you?’

He shrugged. ‘Sometimes I think I’m fine, but then I over-exert myself and I fall over again.’ He indicated the spot on the floor where he’d been found. Bex noticed that a mobile phone and a pair of glasses were still lying there, near where his head had been. ‘Believe it or not, I was just standing there, wearing Courtney’s spare glasses and holding the mobile up by the side of my head so I could see its screen reflected back in one of the lenses. Kieron had taken the ARCC kit so he could stay in contact with you, so I couldn’t use that, but I just wanted to see if I could manage to focus on any reflected screen that close.’ He grimaced. ‘I guess we proved I can’t. I don’t know if it’s the brightness, or the strobing, or a problem focusing my eyes, but a couple of seconds of staring at the thing and I was feeling dizzy. The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor and you were bending over me.’

‘Looking at a mobile screen up close isn’t quite the same as looking at information in the ARCC glasses,’ she pointed out. ‘The technology is different.’

‘I know, but it’s close enough. I’ll try with the glasses and see if they’re any different, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope.’ He glanced towards the kitchen and started to open his mouth to call Kieron back, but Bex put her finger against her lips.

‘Not right now,’ she said. ‘Wait until you’ve recovered a bit more.’ She thought for a moment. ‘We need to get you checked out properly. I know Courtney’s a nurse, but I doubt she’s an expert in neurology.’ She grimaced. ‘The problem will be arranging treatment without flagging up to our employers where we are. Let me think about it for a while.’ Her brain suddenly caught up with something Bradley had said earlier. ‘“Courtney’s spare glasses”? You sound like you know your way around this flat pretty well. Are you and Courtney …?’

She expected him to deny it instantly, like he did any time she teased him about some girl he’d mentioned meeting, but this time he just looked at the floor and blushed slightly. ‘You know what?’ he replied quietly. ‘I don’t actually know. I mean, we’ve not talked about it, but there are times when I look at her, and she looks at me and it’s like there’s some kind of unspoken message passing between us …’ His lips twitched into a half-smile. ‘I think, yes, I’m developing feelings for her, and I hope she’s developing feelings for me as well. Is that a problem?’

‘Honestly?’ Bex said. ‘I don’t know. It’s not like we’re in the kinds of jobs where we can each settle down and have two point four kids and point five of a dog.’

‘Aren’t we?’ He gazed up at her from his slumped position. ‘I know we never talk about the future, and we’ve been too busy having fun in the most exciting job in the world –’

‘And serving our country,’ Bex pointed out primly.

‘Yes, that too. But are we expected to do that forever? Or until we die while carrying out a mission? What’s the career plan here?’

‘That’s a good question.’ And one she’d been thinking about on the flight back. ‘We did kind of drift into this without an exit strategy. Maybe it’s time we took a look at where we are and where we want to be. Especially given what we’ve discovered recently. Our future employment may be, let’s say, problematic.’

Bradley shrugged. ‘All I know is, I’ve had dates with a fair number of girls, and enjoyed myself, but this is the first time I’ve ever sat down on a sofa with one of them, watching TV, and thinking, “You know what? I like this!”’

‘You haven’t told her what you do, have you?’

Bradley shook his head. ‘Of course not. I used our standard cover story – that I’m a freelance computer network engineer. And actually, it’s not that far from the truth. I do know my way around computers.’ He paused and smiled. ‘I told her you’re my boss and that you spend a lot of time travelling abroad, setting up computer networks for big companies and for UK embassies, and I act as your technical support back in the UK.’

A thought struck Bex. ‘Where does she think you live?’

‘I told her I’ve got a flat in London but I spend a lot of time travelling around the country staying in hotels. Which, again, isn’t far from the actuality.’ He grimaced, and looked away. ‘This job we do is great, but it doesn’t leave much time for meeting people. Courtney’s the first person I’ve met that I feel terrible about lying to.’

Bex was about to say something she hoped might be reassuring, but suddenly, from the kitchen, loud music suddenly blared out. It sounded to her like several heavy metal rockers all playing different songs badly and at the same time.

‘Sorry!’ Kieron called as the volume suddenly reduced by half.

‘We are getting old,’ Bradley said. He squirmed until he was sitting properly, rather than being slumped on the cushions. ‘There was a time when I was convinced that they couldn’t invent a form of music I wouldn’t listen to – well, excluding country and western of course. But they did, and that’s it.’ He sighed. ‘We’re talking around a subject that we really need to discuss, Bex.’

She nodded. ‘The traitor in MI6. Yes, I know.’

‘Did Kieron tell you about that meeting he and Sam spied on in the Baltic Centre – the one where the traitor turned up to give instructions to those Blood and Soil goons?’

‘He did. At least we know the traitor is a woman.’ She bit her lip. ‘The problem is, there are a lot of women in MI6 – especially the bit we freelance for. I can probably think of fifteen women in various positions in or near SIS-TERR. And she would have been wearing a disguise, so whatever description Kieron gives us won’t really be what she looks like.’

Bradley smiled slightly. ‘The funny thing is, most people disguise themselves as something different. So we know that the traitor definitely won’t look like Kieron’s description. That might narrow it down a bit. If he says she’s old then she’s young. If he says she has red hair then her hair is blond, brown or black. If I ever have to go undercover, I’m going to disguise myself as a nerdy hipster with a beard and glasses. That’ll fool everyone.’

Bex made a thing of feeling his forehead. ‘I think you’re feverish,’ she said.

He smiled, and touched her hand briefly. ‘I’m glad you’re back.’

‘So am I.’

‘I’ve been thinking. You realise there are two things we can’t do. The first is: we can’t tell MI6 that someone in the SIS-TERR department is a traitor working with a neo-fascist organisation to somehow ethnically cleanse areas of the world. We don’t actually have any proof, and we wouldn’t be believed. Worse – just making the accusation will reflect badly on us, and we’ll probably never work for MI6 again, and because we’d have to come out in the open to make the accusation, the traitor would know where we are and probably take some kind of action against us.’

Bex nodded. ‘True.’

‘The second thing is: we need to continue working for SIS-TERR – at least for the near future. We need to pay the bills of course, but we also need to stay involved with MI6 so we can try and find more evidence as to who this traitor actually is.’ He paused. ‘I presume we are going to try to flush the traitor out? I mean, we’re not just going to walk away and forget about them?’

‘That traitor was responsible for having you hurt, which means I will pursue them to the ends of the Earth if I have to,’ she said quietly but firmly. ‘And, of course, they were colluding with a scheme that would have killed hundreds of thousands of people in nuclear explosions.’

‘Thank you for putting their sins in that order.’ Bradley thought for a moment. ‘I guess we can stay below the radar for a little while. Hopefully that will give me a chance to recover to a stage where I can work the kit again.’

‘Remember,’ Bex said, ‘we’re not completely on our own. We have friends.’

Bradley glanced towards the kitchen. ‘I thought you didn’t want to risk the boys.’

‘I don’t. I was referring to Agni Patel.’

Bradley nodded. ‘Ah yes – this mysterious businessman you met who steals weapons of mass destruction from various unfriendly countries so he can “destroy” them rather than, say, hang them on the wall so he can admire them on those long tropical evenings. Or maybe even sell them to terrorist groups.’

Bex felt a sudden need to defend Patel. ‘Hey, I’ve seen his operation at work. He really is working to destroy those weapons, and he’s spending a lot of his own money doing it. He wants the world to be a better place. If it hadn’t been for him, there would be large, glowing holes where Islamabad and four other cities used to be.’

Bradley shrugged. ‘Look, if you trust him then I trust him. It’s just that I haven’t met him.’

‘He’s coming to England soon. We’ve arranged to meet up. I’ll introduce you then.’

‘Maybe he’ll offer us a job.’

Bex opened her mouth to say something, then stopped herself. Actually Agni Patel had offered her – and Bradley – a job. After she and his team had returned from the wilds of Pakistan with the nuclear weapon that Blood and Soil had stolen from the Pakistani government and had intended to explode, and after it had become clear that Kieron and Sam had prevented the broadcast of the radio signal that would trigger the other four weapons, Agni had strongly urged Bex to throw her lot in with him. He had told her that he was impressed with her commitment and her talent, and wanted her on his team – and Bradley, if Bex vouched for him. She’d thought seriously about the offer, but she knew that she had to come back to the UK first – at least until she’d managed to find out who the traitor was. ‘Who knows?’ she said eventually.

Bradley sighed. ‘I’m guessing you want me to move out of here,’ he said. ‘If I know you – and I do – you’ve probably already rented a place where we can lie low for a while. Obviously we can’t go back to our own flats in London – that’s the first place this traitor, or her Blood and Soil shock troops, will look for us. So you’ve found us an apartment.’ He frowned for a moment, thinking. ‘You want it to be somewhere they won’t think of looking for us, but because you’re worried about my health you don’t want me to be under too much stress from a long journey so it’s close to where we are now. You also want to have easy access to motorways, railways and airports. So … you’ve found somewhere here in Newcastle! How did I do?’

Bex nodded, impressed. ‘Your brain is obviously firing on some cylinders at least. Yes, I’ve found us a place in Newcastle city centre. It’s a new-build apartment block. I’ve got a car downstairs – whenever you’re ready, we can go.’ She patted his knee. ‘The fact that it’s still close enough that you can visit your girlfriend is a convenient but unplanned bonus.’

‘She’s not my girlfriend!’ Bradley exclaimed. A voice from the kitchen – Sam – shouted the words ‘She’s not his girlfriend!’ at exactly the same time.

‘Hey – I thought you were giving us a little privacy?’ Bex called back.

‘It’s a small flat,’ Kieron yelled, ‘and the walls are thin.’ He paused for a few seconds, then added: ‘Can we come and see the flat too? Please?’

‘Look, I don’t think –’ she started to say, but he interrupted her.

‘We can tell you where all the best restaurants are, the best places to eat, the places to avoid … we can pretty much give you a full rundown on the area.’

She sighed. Local intelligence was always a good thing. ‘OK then. Give me a hand getting Bradley down to the car.’

‘Hang on a second,’ Bradley said, standing up with some effort. ‘I’ll get my teddy bear.’

‘Your … what?’ Bex’s expression was a picture of disbelief.

He went on defensively: ‘Courtney bought it for me. It was a joke.’

‘Does … does Teddy Weddy have a name?’ Bex asked, barely able to control her smile.

‘No,’ Bradley answered, but Bex could tell from his expression that it did but he wasn’t going to admit it.

While Kieron and Sam helped Bradley down the stairs – clutching his teddy bear – Bex went ahead and got the car. She felt a lot better now she’d seen Bradley. They didn’t meet up that often when they were working – she was usually undercover somewhere else in the world while he stayed back in the UK, providing her with covert support, but he was a constant and comforting voice in her ear, and whenever they finished a mission she made sure she came back and spent a couple of days with him, relaxing and decompressing and having fun, catching up on movies, TV and gossip.

When she got to the hire car, Bex briefly bent down and pretended to tighten the laces on her trainers. Actually she was checking underneath for any objects that might have been attached to the underside of the vehicle. She had no reason to suspect that a bomb or tracking device had been placed there – as far as she knew, nobody apart from the four of them and Agni Patel knew she was even in the UK – but years of training and a couple of bad experiences meant that it had become a habit by now. Not a habit she liked particularly, but one that felt necessary.

If she and Bradley did manage to get out of the game, she wondered how long it would take for the habit to fade. Maybe it never would. Maybe she’d end up as a mad old cat lady, checking under her car at the age of ninety-six.

With Bradley in the front passenger seat and the kids in the back, Bex drove the hire car back towards the city centre. She’d memorised the directions, and soon they were approaching the new apartment block – which was located just to the north of the River Tyne and to the west of the railway station. The apartments were new but had been built inside the shell of an old warehouse.

‘Very impressive,’ Bradley said, craning his neck so he could look up at the redbrick building. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever lived anywhere this nice before.’

‘Two bedrooms,’ Bex said as she circled the place, checking in her rear-view mirror for other cars doing the same thing, and then, when she didn’t see any, turned into the parking area through an arch in the wall at the back. Kieron and Sam looked around self-consciously as they got out of the car. Bex smiled to herself. They probably felt out of place. She would tell them some time that the key to operating undercover was to always look like you belonged, no matter how strange the location.

As they got out of the car, she gestured towards the boot. ‘Kieron, Sam – can you grab my bags and bring them up, please?’

A door with an electronic security lock gave access to a lobby painted in an eye-wateringly bright white. Apart from two lifts, a set of modern-looking lockers for post and several potted plants strategically dotted around, the lobby was empty.

‘How did you know the code to get through the security door?’ Kieron wanted to know.

‘The management company emailed it to me when they’d confirmed that I’d paid the deposit,’ she replied. ‘Everything was done remotely, without having to meet up.’ Crossing to the bank of lockers, she typed a number into a keyboard off to one side and one of the locker doors pinged open. ‘They gave me this code as well.’

‘What’s in there?’ Kieron wanted to know.

Bex reached in and pulled out a bulky envelope. ‘The keys to the flat.’

Bradley frowned. ‘Given the impressive tech level of the lobby, I thought the front door of the flat might be voice-activated,’ he said.

‘Or it scans and recognises your retina,’ Kieron added.

‘Or your brainwaves,’ Sam threw in.

Bex stared at them and slowly shook her head. ‘You guys have been alone together for too long.’

They took the lift up to the top floor. The door to their apartment was down a stark white corridor.

Bex nodded towards a corner of the ceiling just opposite the lift door. ‘We can put a small Bluetooth camera up there,’ she said quietly to Bradley. ‘Just so we can get some warning as to who’s coming and going.’

The door to the flat opened onto a spacious wood-floored apartment with a large window overlooking the Tyne. The furniture was chunky, heavy and comfortable. Off to one side Bex noticed an expansive kitchen area separated from the living area by a breakfast bar.

‘I could be happy here,’ Bradley said, gazing around appreciatively.

Kieron had gone straight to the stereo, while Sam had headed for the LCD screen on the wall.

‘Hard-disc storage,’ Kieron said approvingly.

‘4K display,’ Sam murmured. ‘Just imagine what we could do with this and a decent gaming platform.’

‘Hands off,’ Bex said, trying to sound fierce but actually, inside, feeling strangely warm. It was like watching a bunch of brothers she never knew she had. ‘This is our new work headquarters, not a kids’ playground.’

‘Free-standing claw-foot bathtub,’ Bradley called from a doorway that Bex assumed led to the bathroom. ‘And fizzy bath bombs.’

‘Mine!’ she said quickly. ‘Dibs on the first bath. I’ve been travelling all day.’

By the time she’d had a long, hot, deep bath – with bath foam, of which she found there were several varieties – towelled herself dry and then dressed in relatively clean clothes from her suitcase, the boys were sitting in front of the TV, watching YouTube videos, while Bradley was moving slowly around in the kitchen.

‘I’m making a cup of tea,’ he said. ‘I was waiting until you got out of the bath so I could use the ARCC kit to put in an online order for a food delivery.’

‘That is a complete misuse of high-tech security equipment.’

He stared at her for a moment. ‘I presume you don’t want to go out shopping?’

‘Good point. I’d rather we all stayed together, out of sight. I’ve got several credit cards under various identities that we can use.’

Sliding a cup in front of her, Bradley walked into the main area of the apartment. ‘Kieron – could I have my ARCC glasses and earpiece back again, please?’

Kieron looked … unhappy, Bex thought. ‘Is there something I can do for you?’ he asked. ‘I mean, I really like using it, and I’m very good.’

Bradley waggled his fingers. ‘Mine,’ he said simply. ‘Give.’

Kieron nodded, slid his hands into one of his many pockets and retrieved the glasses and the earpiece. ‘I wasn’t going to keep them forever,’ he muttered as he handed them over. ‘Just for a while longer. Until you were better.’

‘I’ve got to get back on the bicycle sometime,’ Bradley said, taking them. ‘And that means you have to get off.’ He sat in a comfy armchair, hesitated, then slid the glasses on and slipped the earpiece into his ear. He glanced up at Bex, who was watching. ‘Here goes,’ he said, and touched a hidden button at the side of the frame.

From where Bex was standing, she couldn’t see any response in the glasses, but they were designed that way. Nobody looking at them could tell that the wearer was looking at something projected by tiny lasers onto the inside of the lenses.

Bradley frowned in concentration. His right hand reached up and started touching things that only he could see. His tongue poked out slightly from his mouth and he licked his lips nervously. ‘You’ve played around with the settings,’ he said.

‘Sorry.’ Kieron was sitting on the edge of his seat, hands clasped as if he wanted to launch himself forward and snatch the glasses away from Bradley. ‘I meant to change them back.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Bradley said, distracted. ‘I think I can – ouch!’

‘What is it?’ Bex said, stepping forward.

Bradley’s face contorted into a pained grimace. ‘I think – ouch! Ow!’ He swept both of his hands up to his face, knocking the glasses. They flew off over his head. Eyes screwed shut, he put his hands over his temples and leaned forward, pressing hard. ‘Sorry – everything suddenly went blurry, and I felt a sudden sharp pain between my eyes. It was like someone had shoved a knitting needle right through my forehead.’ His voice sounded strained. More than that, he sounded frustrated.

Bex sympathised. She knew how badly Bradley wanted to be able to get back to work. ‘Go and lie down,’ she said firmly. ‘Kieron – you help him. Sam – there are some painkillers in the front pocket of my rucksack. Can you get them and a glass of water and take them in to Bradley.’

‘I can do it myself –’ Bradley said, trying to stand up.

‘Just do it.’

As the three of them headed away, Bex retrieved the ARCC glasses from the floor behind the chair before someone stepped on them. She stared at them bleakly. She could operate them of course – not as well as Bradley, but she knew how they worked and what they could do, but she couldn’t use them to do the job they were supposed to do. If she was using these ones, then who was going to use her glasses on a mission? There had to be two of them in the team!

‘What’s the problem?’ Kieron asked from one of the bedroom doorways. He sounded concerned.

‘Whatever’s wrong with him is affecting his ability to use the ARCC equipment,’ she said. ‘I don’t know if it’s neurological or psychosomatic. We need to get him looked over.’ She held the glasses up. ‘But I also need to see if MI6 have sent through any messages. It’s been a while since we checked in, and I should give them an update.’

Kieron walked across the living area and took the glasses from her. She noticed that he was holding the earpiece. He must have taken it from Bradley’s ear. ‘Look – you sit down. I’m used to the kit. I’ve used it more recently than you. I’ll check for messages, and then you can talk me through any response.’ As she hesitated, he went on: ‘You’ve been travelling, you’re probably jet-lagged and you haven’t stopped since you landed. Just sit down and have your cup of tea. You don’t have to look after all of us. Let me look after you.’

It was the mention of jet lag that did it. Bex had been keeping it at bay, trying to pretend that it didn’t exist, but she’d not slept a wink on the flight, and by now she’d been awake for longer than she wanted to think about.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘I give in. Just this once.’

As she sank into the chair that Bradley had recently vacated, Kieron sat on the sofa and slipped on the glasses. His hands immediately sprang to life: moving in the air as if he was assembling some complex invisible machine. Watching him, Bex found herself amazed at the ease with which he used it. Bradley was competent, but Kieron seemed almost … intuitive.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’ve got the classified email program up and running. It needs a separate password obviously.’

‘TAG-LOL-GID,’ Bex recited automatically. ‘It’s a randomly generated set of three single-syllable sounds. It avoids people using the names of their pets or the road where they used to live. All of those things can be researched.’

His fingers twitched. ‘Got it. Right – OK! Wow – no spam!’

‘Of course not. You’ve accessed an MI6 server. It’s separated from the public Internet, and it’s got all kinds of firewalls.’

‘I know – I’ve been taking a look at them. Very impressive.’ He paused, reading. ‘There are a couple of queries about how your mission is progressing –’

‘Where do I start?’ she muttered.

‘And an email with a new mission! It says you should confirm receipt and give an estimate on when you can start.’

‘Who’s it from?’

‘There’s no name – just what looks like a job title: “Dep-Director, SIS-TERR”.’

Bex took a deep breath. She’d have to debrief her bosses on what had happened in Mumbai of course – although as she was supposed to have been undercover, luckily they were used to waiting until she was clear so that she could update Bradley. But this new assignment – was it real, or was it a trick to lure her and Bradley out of hiding?

‘What’s the mission?’ she asked.

Kieron nodded. ‘According to this,’ he said slowly, ‘there have been several deaths of members of staff in something called “The Goldfinch Institute”.’ His fingers danced in the air. ‘Yes – there’s a link to more information on it. The Goldfinch Institute is apparently a research facility based in Albuquerque but with facilities around the world. It manufactures highly classified weapon systems for the British Army, MI5, MI6 and SIS-TERR in the UK, as well as the CIA, the NSA and the FBI in America.’ He paused. ‘Hang on – I’ll move back to the email. OK, the briefing note says that the deaths appear, on the face of it, to be natural, but the fact that they all occurred at roughly the same time is raising suspicions on this side of the Atlantic. What this Dep-Director wants you to do is to go to Albuquerque and covertly investigate to see if there is any threat to British interests. Basically, find out if these deaths really are natural or whether they might be murders.’ He frowned. ‘Albuquerque. That’s in America, isn’t it? Somewhere down south? New Mexico …?’

‘New Mexico,’ Bex confirmed absently. ‘Your geography is surprisingly good.’ Most of her mind was consumed with poring over the contents of the email that Kieron had read out. Investigate deaths at a classified American research institute? She and Bradley had done similar things in the past, but never in America. In fact, there were rules in place in the intelligence community that specifically prohibited members of what was known as the ‘5-Eyes Community’ – the USA, the UK, Canada, Australia and New Zealand – from spying on each other. It was fairly common knowledge that the Americans at least flagrantly ignored that prohibition, while everyone else pretended not to notice, but for her to be asked to operate in the USA … it must be important. And that meant it was the kind of thing that she really shouldn’t turn down. And the money would be good, which was what they were particularly short of at present.

‘I didn’t learn that at school,’ Kieron replied. ‘I know it’s in New Mexico because my favourite band record their albums in a studio there.’

‘Lethal Insomnia?’ she said hesitantly.

He smiled. ‘You do listen. Sam said you don’t, but I knew he was wrong.’

‘Anything else?’ Bex asked.

‘A couple of attached files – looks like autopsy reports on the dead staff members – plus some maps of the area. Oh, and there’s a budget. If you need to go above a certain amount of money then you need to seek approval. And that amount of money is –’ he gasped – ‘a huge amount! I’m not surprised you can afford an apartment like this!’

Bex shrugged, feeling strangely defensive. ‘It’s not that much, in the scheme of things,’ she said. ‘We’ve got to pay for all our own travel, and sometimes we have to go undercover, so we have to stay in good hotels and buy stuff to back up our story, like … wristwatches and … er, cars.’ Even as she said the words, they sounded weak. ‘And there’s danger money as well. It’s a risky job. If something goes wrong, the British government will claim they know nothing about us and leave us to our fate. That’s one of the reasons MI6 uses freelance operative teams like us – we’re eminently deniable.’

‘Yes, but –’ Kieron’s eyes were wide behind the glasses – ‘this is an incredible amount.’

‘We have to sort out our own pension schemes and healthcare insurance,’ Bex said in a small voice.

‘My mum could buy her own flat for this amount of money.’ Kieron’s tone wasn’t accusatory – more like sad. Maybe even wistful. The kind of tone that someone might use if they were describing the perfect Christmas present – one they would never, ever get.

‘Look –’ Bex said, wanting to try to explain the realities of the world to Kieron, but he interrupted her before she could get the words out.

‘Oh!’

‘What is it?’

‘Apparently there’s a time limit on this mission. It needs to be completed within a week, which means that you have to accept it or reject it pretty much within the next hour or they’ll pass it to another team.’

‘That,’ she said, ‘gives us a problem.’

Kieron nodded. ‘Bradley can’t help you.’

‘But if I reject the mission then SIS-TERR will go to a different team, and we’re not going to be top of the list for the next mission that comes along. If we’re out of action as a team for too long then we’ll slip off the list altogether.’

‘There’s only one answer then,’ Kieron said. Maybe it was the lenses of the ARCC glasses, but his eyes seemed very wide.

Bex nodded. ‘Fancy doing some temp work?’ she asked heavily.