Sara looked out of the bus’s window through successive chain-link fences towards the massive circular building.
It resembled an airport terminal more than a spying facility, with exterior walls of glass and sleek, modernistic flourishes on the roof.
She was surprised how close it was to the rest of the town. Rows of detached residential houses sat less than a few hundred yards from its border, and a narrow river snaked through fields and estates to its south.
Only the security cordon that wrapped itself around the perimeter of the facility gave any clue to what was happening inside.
She was in a specially designated bus, ferrying employees from the front gates to the staff entrance. It stopped at the first checkpoint; four armed officers moving through the vehicle, inspecting ID cards and checking them against a register. One of the officers led an Alsatian down the aisle of the bus.
Sara knew from her research that the security measures her fellow passengers could see were not the only protections. Anti-aircraft guns were positioned below the line of sight on the roof of the facility, and the armed units guarding the building took up an entire wing.
Somewhere, behind the fortifications, was the person who had the answers. To her childhood and to who she was before her life and mind were taken from her.
The rest of the day was spent in HR processing.
Getting the job had not been difficult. It was an administrative position with low-level security clearances. The construction of an identity was easy. After years of being hunted, it had taken her less than an hour.
The challenge lay in finding a way out of the facility once the job was complete. Her identity would be burned, and she would be left deep within an impregnable fortress. It was this dilemma that she wrestled with in the months of planning.
The bus passed the final gate, over the sprawling car park and to the employee gate, shuddering to a stop.
Her research had been meticulous. She knew every aspect of the orientation process for employees at her level. In a few minutes, they would be shepherded from the vehicle and led through the door. They would each be handed a security badge hanging from a necklace of green ribbon and a map of the interior of GCHQ. Fingerprinting and identity questionnaires would follow, interspersed with security seminars and short breaks of machine-poured coffee and awkward mingling.
She alighted from the bus and watched the other new arrivals weave around her as they walked into the building, a ripple of nervous conversation moving among them. Before she followed, she took one last look behind her, wishing that time moved faster, that she could be carried forwards into tomorrow in the blink of an eye.