Taken Under: Underground, Overground

‘Any luck with the snoop teams?’ asked Control.

Michaela Benson turned from her monitors to face her. ‘No luck so far, Control,’ she said. ‘They’ve visited the promoters and agents, the loved ones – and a couple of them had to break in to some of their homes.’

‘What have they turned up?’

‘Very little,’ Michaela replied. ‘Three of them had retained correspondence from the same place, sent to them separately but all on the same date. One of them burned their correspondence out in the yard. We took one fragment of a letterheading.’

‘You mean someone sent them an actual letter?’ Control asked. ‘On paper?’

‘Yes, Control,’ Michaela said, calling up a collage of three images on the screen. One was almost entirely burned, but a partial letterhead was visible. The other two were intact, and bore the same letterheading.

Taken Under: Debriefing

‘This is nectar,’ Lydia said, inhaling the aroma of the cognac rising from the warming brandy snifter in her hand.

She sat in her favourite high-backed leather upholstered chair in the study. Across from her stood Jasper, gently cradling the bottle he’d opened.

‘Would you like me to leave this here?’ he asked.

‘No, Lydia replied. ‘I’ll only have this one.’

‘Very well,’ Jasper said, heading off.

Lydia sampled the aroma a while longer, before taking a tiny sip of the fragrant brandy. The door opened. Three sets of footsteps approached. Lydia looked up. Anita, Rose, and Charlie were approaching her.

She checked her phone’s clock. ‘Right on time,’ she said, putting the brandy snifter down on the side table.

Taken Under: Call of Duty

October 16. Wednesday morning.

The striplights blinked on in the empty college classroom, activated by the opening of the door. Students began to pour into the room and take up their seats around the horseshoe of tables which faced the door and the large whiteboard next to it.

Posters lining the walls displayed tables and phrases in half a dozen languages – French, Italian, German, Polish, Japanese and Arabic. The students chatted excitedly among themselves. The lecturer had yet to turn up to begin the class, but there was a general buzz of excitement. The lecturer, Gwyneth Davies, had promised to play a special video during the lecture this morning.

Interval 3 – Wakey Wakey

Den was awoken by Ayesha’s startled ‘What the hell …?’

He opened his eyes. The sky was still dark outside. Ayesha was sitting upright in the bed.

‘Er, hi,’ he murmured.

‘I was asleep in the guest bed,’ Ayesha said, ‘and now I’m here.’ Den watched as Ayesha looked for her phone. ‘Did I leave my phone behind in my room? Why am I naked? Did I walk the whole way from the guest room to your bedroom naked? What did you do -‘

Den gestured. Ayesha fell silent as a trance fell over her.

Interval 2 – Invitation

‘Thanks for helping out,’ Ayesha said. ‘The trip home must have taken more of a toll on me than I thought. I’m so sleepy.’

With Ayesha struggling to walk, Den and Lauren had to prop her up between them to get her indoors. Once there, they plopped her onto the sofa.

‘Look after her for a moment,’ Den said. ‘I did text Mum, but I’m just going to pop back home to let her see that I got home all right.’

‘You do that, Den,’ Lauren said, kissing him on the cheek. ‘I’ll keep Ayesha awake till you get back.’

Interval 1 – Home

The car drew up to the Tanakas’ home with a crunch of gravel. Lauren turned off the headlights, and the world was plunged into darkness, littered with the sodium glow of streetlights on wet asphalt.

‘We’re here,’ Lauren said, very quietly. In the passenger seat sat Ayesha, listening to some MP3s Den had given her.

Den & Lauren c03 e11: The Wrong Road, Part 2

There were too many bodies on the bed.

Den opened his eyes and lay there, wedged between two women who snored, apparently in sync. Looking to his right, he saw a brown back and black hair – Ayesha. Turning over, he saw Shelley’s face.

Someone had her arm around Shelley. Painted nails. A tattoo of a bird on her arm. Sue.

‘I have no idea how to get up from the bed,’ Den said, mostly to himself. ‘I wouldn’t know where to put my hands.’

‘That didn’t stop you last night,’ said Ayesha.

Day Five

When Den came down to the carvery, alone, the breakfast buffet had started, and four other guest couples were already dining. Den nodded and smiled, acknowledging the couples as they looked up at him.

He’d already had discreet conversations with the couples. Dave and Moira Castle were from Leeds. Dave was a salesman working for a carpet store, and his 27-year-old wife was a discount store manager. Sue and Michael Harper, 25 and 26 years old, worked with the railways – Sue was a train driver, and Michael was an engineer. Tom and Ayesha Collins worked in a library and a school in Manchester, and Anne and Clifford Bradbury ran a small cafe in Liverpool.

‘Excuse me!’

Den paused, a sausage halfway to his plate, and turned around. Michael had spoken. Sue looked furious.

‘Hi, er, Michael,’ Den said. ‘Can I help?’

‘Mike, for the love of god, don’t make a scene!’ hissed Sue, but Michael was insistent.

‘Can I ask something?’ Michael asked. ‘Sue thinks that you’re some sort of … entertainer or something?’

‘Michael ..’ Sue whispered. By now, the other couples had turned to see what the fuss was about.

Den smiled. ‘Where did you hear that?’

Michael began to blush. He looked at Sue, who was also blushing. Den looked at Sue, who kept her eyes turned down.

‘I overheard the concierge at the desk,’ Sue replied. ‘You compose music. The chef said that a member of your party gave her some sort of flash drive with music you’d composed. So I thought that maybe you’re some sort of entertainer?’

‘I am, in a way,’ Den said, smiling. ‘Would you like to hear one of my tracks?’ He looked at the other diners. ‘I’ll be happy to play a track, if you like.’ His gaze took in each of the guests in turn. ‘Just say the word.’

Day Three

Den woke alone. The rain outside was belting down against the window. He went over to open it, and let the rain soak his body for a few seconds.

He heard voices next door. Megumi and Shelley. They’d been together during the night. Den stretched, shut the window and went into the shower. By the time he’d finished, the voices had moved into the corridor. Den heard Megumi’s door shut, and the voices continued down the corridor.

Den ran his hand over the smooth skin of his chin. He slipped on fresh underpants and socks, his jeans and sneakers, and slipped a Metallica T-shirt over his head. A few seconds to brush his bedhead into place, and he was ready for breakfast.

The mobile phone rang before he got to the door. Den was startled.

It wasn’t a ringtone he knew.

Day Two

They awoke at dawn, a sweaty tangle of sheets, shivering. The cold night had entered the room, and the sky outside was grey, with a chill western wind whipping the waters.

Den heard Megumi breathing softly as she lay in his arms. He continued to lie there until he heard her stir and begin to awaken. He said the trigger to send her into a trance, and she slumped back, her eyes closed.

‘Did you like that?’ Den asked.

‘Yes,’ whispered Megumi.

‘Good,’ Den said. ‘Now, shortly, I’m going to give you an instruction, and then we’re both going to wake up together and you’ll carry out that instruction. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ Megumi breathed. Den gave her the instruction.

‘Do you think you can carry it out?’

‘Yes,’ Megumi said.

‘Now, close your eyes, and rest some more, and in about twenty minutes you’re going to wake up. You’ll remember nothing about this.’

They remained in bed for a few more minutes, before Megumi stirred once again and sighing, opened her eyes. She kissed Den’s cheek.

‘You need a shave,’ she whispered in his ear.

‘Good morning to you, too,’ Den replied.

They got up and crossed over to the window, where they stood watching the wind-swept waters.

‘It’s choppy out there,’ Den said.

‘See that land across there?’ Megumi said. ‘That’s Anglesey. I always wanted to go there. I think we’ll be doing some sightseeing over the next few days, before we have to what … we have to do.’

She and Den felt the sun as it broke through the clouds. The warmth of the summer sun contrasted with the chill wind, and the breeze dried their bodies.

‘I love the airflow,’ Megumi said, her hands caressing her midriff. ‘So cool on my body.’

‘Yes,’ Den replied, closing his eyes to soak up the sun.

After a few minutes of this, Megumi turned to face Den. ‘There’s just one thing,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to ask you … did you hypnotise me to stand here stark naked?’

‘Think nothing of it,’ Den replied. ‘You don’t have to thank me.’

Megumi looked blank for a moment. Then she closed her eyes and allowed the wind to caress her bare face, breasts, arms, torso and legs.

‘Thank you, Den,’ she breathed.

Den & Lauren, c03 e03: Look Into My Eyes

‘How does this hypnosis thing work, then?’

Den looked up from the steaming tea in his green mug, and looked into Megumi’s dark brown eyes. ‘It’s actually remarkably easy,’ he said. ‘How’s your tea?’

‘Very nice,’ Megumi said. ‘Thanks. How did you know I like unsweetened lemon tea?’

They sat alone in the Tanakas’ living room. Isao and Lauren had taken Mr Tanaka’s car to go to the police station to get some paperwork done.

‘I saw lemons in the kitchen and a fresh packet of Oolong, which I hadn’t seen before.’

Megumi blinked. ‘Wait, you’ve been in the kitchen?’

‘Yes,’ Den said. ‘Your father’s been teaching me to cook.’

Megumi’s jaw dropped. ‘Dad never did that with me,’ she said.

Den & Lauren c03 e02: Megumi

‘So where are we?’ Belinda asked Tamara, as she drove her van along the road. This part of the road was industrial, a flat expanse filled with various factories and business premises. At this time of day, the roads were mainly empty but for lorries travelling to and from the business premises.

‘Just coming up to our destination,’ Tamara replied, signalling left. There was a bank of grass on the left, and a break in this grassy embankment just up ahead. Tamara pulled into the break, and stopped her van at a barrier. She reached out and pressed the intercom.

‘State your purpose.’ The female voice was businesslike.

‘Contract electrician,’ Tamara replied.

The barrier rose up. Tamara drove the van into the parking lot.

Belinda got out of the stationary van, and looked at the building before her. ‘Where are we, Tamara?’ she asked.

‘One of Lauren’s businesses,’ Tamara replied. ‘Newly-acquired.’ She opened the side of the van. ‘Come on,’ she grunted. ‘Help me out with this.’

Tag & Release

‘So what happened next?’

Lydia looked up from her book. Danielle was approaching her, carrying two snifters of brandy, one in each hand.

Lydia put the book down on the table beside her and accepted one of the glasses from Danielle. She sniffed it. ‘It’s just brandy, isn’t it?’ she asked.

‘I wouldn’t ruin a good Napoleon cognac with GHB or anything crass like that,’ Danielle replied. ‘Though in our line of work, that is always a risk.’

THE SPIRAL ROOM

‘You know how a person can, you know, face change and go through it with courage, even when everything else has failed?’

‘Have you ever faced a situation that really opened up your mind to new possibilities?’

‘Can you imagine that feeling of opening up? Grab it like a firefly, hold it in your hand, any time you like?’

‘And who are you when this is happening, as if it were happening right here, right now?’

Taken Under c03 e04: Charlie’s Processing

‘Control?’

Lydia was enjoying a Scotch in the study. She looked up.

‘I’m off duty,’ she said. ‘Sit, Benson.’

‘Thanks, Lydia,’ Benson said, sitting in the low-backed leather upholstered chair opposite Lydia.

‘Can I ask something?’

‘Sure.’

‘I wasn’t here when Charlie received her Processing,’ Benson said. ‘I’m still actually new here, and I’m still getting used to people’s names, like Zara, Jessica …’

‘Watkins? She prefers to be called “Jay.”‘

‘… and your Sleepy teams. Like Mel?’

Lydia smiled. ‘My daughter.’

Benson looked up. Jasper had brought her a drink. ‘I’ve got to admit. When I first realised that you had Processed your own daughters, I thought “Wow, that’s hardcore.”‘ She tasted the drink. ‘Damn. How did you know this was my favourite drink?’

Lydia inhaled the aroma of her fine Scotch. ‘The funny thing about Processing,’ she said, ‘is that we have to learn everything about the people we’re processing.’ She sipped the smooth tipple, letting the vapours fill her sinuses as the liquid teased her tongue.

She looked at Benson. ‘And I mean everything, Michaela.’

‘So that included Charlie?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Lydia replied. ‘Especially Charlie.’