This is the tenth chapter in a book I am writing. The book (Undercover and Investigating) is the third book in a series, you can find the previous two books here: https://writeboy.blog/my-stories/ .

Miracle

The truck slides down the trunk, I tuck Emily’s head under my chin. The juggernaut of the truck slides down, down, eternally down the trunk. Waiting like the powerless victims we are, hoping for a miracle and getting just what we hoped for. The truck catches, on the small indentation to the trunk made by Emily crashing into it. I scramble out, pushing Emily in front of me, and things return to normal speed.

For the first time I notice all of my injuries from flying through the fence. Blood drips from behind my ear, along all four limbs and has completely soaked the England Rugby shirt making it look more like I’m wearing a Welsh rugby shirt. My head is still spinning, the strain of using my power isn’t helping, and I have the coordination of the drunk man staggering home after an evening of drinking. Emily stands next to me- concerned, “Jack, go back inside. You’re in no state to fight.”

“No offense, but I’m not leaving you alone to fight these guys.” I smile half-heartedly.

“Alright, stick together- always.” Emily grabs my hand, “Be right back.” She melts away into non-existence. I cautiously advance towards where I think our four adversaries are, then I hear a click…the click. The click that I have heard so many times in training. The click of a hand gun being cocked. I spin and everything slows down…

“Hi mate, I don’t think you wanna move.” The smug Collective Power agent sounds just like me, just looks a couple of years younger.

“It’s funny mate,” I emphasise the ‘mate’, “’Cause I think I do.”

“Do you?” the three other agents come and stand behind him in a small semi-circle.

My arms go limp and a slight laugh creeps into my voice, “What, is that your back up? Is that your muscle?”

“Yeah, what are you tryna say?” The kid who sounds just like me’s cheeks flush crimson red and he points the gun at me aggressively (just like I’d hoped), “’Cause I’ll pop your head off right now.”

I laugh and take a step forward.

“Stop moving or I swear I’ll kill you,” Panic invades his voice, “I will.” He sounds as if he has to convince himself rather than me.

“Ha, no you’re not.” I take another small step forward.

Then I explode, whipping round and flicking my leg round. Spinning on the ball of my left foot, I take his legs out, then I reach up and take the gun out of his hands and finally I take all of his confidence. He squirms away and curls into the foetal position, “Please don’t shoot!”

Everything returns to normal speed, “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t shoot you.”

The three Collective Power agents behind him start laughing, “Aww, doesn’t have the nerve.” The one in the middle says condescendingly.

I continue as if they hadn’t said anything, “It’s those three that should be worried.” I level the gun at the condescending one in the centre and the smile scampers off his face faster than a gazelle meeting a lion. “I must say, you are good muscle.” The muscle in my right cheek pulls the edge of my mouth up into a defiant smirk.

The three agents stand there dumb founded, mouths hanging open like gormless idiots. I step over the bundle of mess the kid is now and poke the centre agent (the one in the cape) in the sternum. “Run. Run and don’t look back. Because if I see even the hem of that depressing, stupid, goth cape ever again you can bet on a bullet through right there.” I tap his sternum again as he stands chest out confidently, eyes betraying his fear. “Now bog off, all of you.” I address the other two.

The kid tries to scramble up, “Not you.” I sit him down on the curb, recognising his fear and confusion. Turns out he’s thirteen, an orphan since birth, has surfed through more foster homes than he can count; slipped through the cracks into Collective Power’s criminal lap. “You know, I have a friend just like you.” I look at him.

“I find that hard to believe.” He replies picking a stone out of his shoe.

“Well, maybe not just like you but the only reason that I kept you here and didn’t send you on your way was because you remind me of me.” I smile as his head snaps up quizzically. I tell him my story and give him an offer he can’t refuse. Emily sprints up to us.

“Jack?” Emily is too breathless (from running to contact O’Drice) to follow up with a question.

“C’mon, I think we can all do with a sit down.” I take the other two towards my front room.

We stand in the doorway and look at the utter carnage, “Sorry about that.” George (the kid) scratches the back of his head through his wild and extremely curly hair.

“Wasn’t you throwing the stuff, and besides: now you can help us clear it up.” I smile at him. “We should probably go into the kitchen and check up on our mothers.” I say, turning to Emily. After getting Emily up to date on the whole situation, I look down the table at George and start, “Look, I’m a Captain in the SES (a secret part of the army for people like us). I can get you a place in our squad, you will fit right in, have a family and have a home.” I look at him intently, “Or you can leave today, run away and start a new life and never use your power again. We won’t tell a soul and the higher ups at SES will be none the wiser.”

A full-scale battle is waged across the kid’s face- I sympathise with him, I empathise with him. It is oddly comforting to feel like you don’t need the law to protect you, you feel self-reliant and it feels good. However, the right side wins. A smile intrudes his face and jumps up to his eyes, “A family sounds kinda nice you know.” With that a sharp rap on the door echoes through the hall into the kitchen.

I open the door to a wheezing O’Drice leaning against my porch door, he looks like he will keel over. Behind him stand bemused Elijah and Jacob, “You missed the party.” I say whilst beckoning them in. “O’Drice, I need to have a quick word.” I take into my destroyed front room and sit on the sofa-next to a colossal hulk of concrete.

“You told him what?” O’Drice looks enraged.

“Look, O’Drice, that kid was getting abused by them. I couldn’t just let them carry on could I and what was my other option? Set him on his way and wait for him to go back to Collective Power or slip into a life of crime, deceit and felony.”

O’Drice opens his mouth to fire a quick retort back but none comes to his mind, he resorts to: “You know McVallen won’t like this.”

“You know she will.” I say as he turns his back in defeat and walks towards the kitchen.

Emily says good bye to her mum with a massive hug for two slight figures, “I’m really proud of you Jack, of everything you have done.” My mum grabs my shoulders so I can’t squirm out of the embarrassment, “I mean it, Jack. You do your father and I proud, you really are so similar to him- like a ghost really.”

“Thank, mum.” I smile slightly and pull her into a tight embrace. As we leave in a standard issue Land Rover, I see the mothers of Emily and I and think something not many people can think too often, we did a genuinely good thing today…

This is the fifth chapter in a book I am writing. The book (Undercover and Investigating) is the third book in a series, you can find the previous two books here: https://writeboy.blog/my-stories/ .

Old Friends.

“Jack? What is this I hear about you being ‘irresponsible, dangerous and unprofessional’ on the mission in France. This comes from a Lieutenant Burton, Pathfinders.” O’Drice walks into our common room, nose in a lengthy report.

“I have absolutely no idea what that is referring to, sir.” I say, doing my best to be sincere but losing my battle against laughter slightly at the end of the sentence.

“Me neither.” Emily adds not even trying to not laugh.

“Well, he has written this.” O’Drice holds up a thick wad of paper, “Hand written and all, numbered all of the 256 pages.”

“Ah well.” I turn to Emily with a knowing smile.

“Anyway, I’ve read a couple of paragraphs and it has sent me to sleep so it can’t be that important, can it?” He throws it in the bin.

“Sir, that’s the recycling.” Emily points to a different bin, teasing the Major.

“Shush,” O’Drice replies whilst returning the smile, “Briefing room, five minutes, there’s quite a bit.”

We spend half an hour in there being loaded with new information. Lieutenant Colonel McVallen has travelled to London to work with the MOD for a short while and Collective Power seem to have slithered back into the shadows and are currently bombarding the British government and general public with wave after wave of cyber-attacks. O’Drice however doesn’t want to talk much about that, he is focusing on the strange time-skip rooms we keep finding in captured bases. “What’s the big deal, they pop up all over the place.” I question, to O’Drice’s surprise.

“What? Where have you seen them before.”

“Oh, there’s one in this alley near my house. You know, the alley where we saved the politicians that time.”

“H…w…how…why?” O’Drice stutters then collects himself, “Why haven’t you told someone about this ’alley’?”

“You didn’t know?” I exclaim.

“No! why would we know.”

“Because before I got into all of this: I was messing about with it, then rode my bike out of the alley, was immediately hit by a car and then woke up here.”

“Oh, I can see how we got mixed up there.” O’Drice slumps back and then stands up, “Come on, we have a long train ride ahead of us. Pack a bag.”

When we finally get into London and then through all of the various tube trains and out to my little suburb, we are all exhausted so O’Drice checks us into a cheap hotel and I fall asleep as soon as I come into contact with the sheets of my bed. Waking up to an insistent banging on my door, I open it with bleary eyes to see an agitated O’Drice and Emily ironically tapping her non-existent wrist watch. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be out.” A minute later, I walk into the doorframe as I leave my hotel room whilst putting a hoodie on.

Emily tuts, “More than a minute, Jack. Look,” Emily shoves her wrist in my face which I playfully and lightly bat away.

“A’right you two, enough is enough. Let’s get on with this and back to Scotland sharpish.” O’Drice looks round the hallway that can only be described as beige.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” I ask.

“Yep, it is.” Emily helpfully chimes in, bumping me into the wall. I lightly push her back when O’Drice turns to looks at us with a tired and grumpy expression.

We both point to each other and say in unison, “They started it.”

“Stop flirting you two.”

“We’re not flirting!” Again in unison, we both take a step away from each other.

“That worked,” O’Drice smiles, “Well, Jack, lead the way.” he swipes his hand gallantly in front of himself.

“Oh, I wasn’t paying attention to the hotel. Once we’re out, I got you but until then I’m as much use as a blind pigeon.” I say with a tired smile.

O’Drice opens his mouth then pauses, “That was vivid.”

I take our little party to the alley and O’Drice sets up a little black box next to the man hole cover, and steps back. “Well.” O’Drice looks expectantly at me.

“Well, what?”

“Do something.” O’Drice shrugs.

“Oh, right.” I step forward and onto the cover, sure enough after five seconds of silence the dull clunk of metal-on-metal sounds.

“Hmm, this is interesting.” O’Drice rubs his chin. Suddenly, an Eastern European man in a black hoody jumps round the corner and slides a three-inch blade into O’Drice’s side. O’Drice’s eyes widen in shock, Emily and I jump towards him, the hooded man takes a step back and O’Drice bellows with all his might, “After that…”

*I am terribly sorry but for legal reasons I will be unable to inform you of the deleted word, just know it made Emily and I laugh a great deal for some time after the incident.*

Anyway, the hooded figure sets off running the direction my house is in, “Welcome to London,” I pat O’Drice on the back and pursue just behind Emily. The man runs past a turning, “Stay with him,” I huff to Emily and peel off to take the turning. I hear the drum of feet and burst out, rugby tackling the hooded figure straight onto my front garden, in doing so I also take the legs out from Emily. Picking Emily up, we both round on the man. He stands up and pulls the bloodied knife out, he lunges forward. Sliding round, I hold onto his wrist and elbow him in the nose, he drops the knife like they always do. I hit him once more to make sure and then retrieve the knife. Emily binds his hands with skilled, precise fingers. “Jack!” My mother screams in delight. “Jack?” My mother takes in the whole picture.

“Hi mum, I’ll explain later, but I need to go help O’Drice.” I give her a quick hug and then Emily and I retrace the steps of our pursuit back towards O’Drice with our new prisoner in tow. We turn the corner and the smiles disappear from our faces, we see O’Drice being loaded into the back of a white van and it starts to drive away. I begin to chase it but it’s no use, I just see a logo and a title Mystical Movers with a slogan of Will Take Whatever You Need disappear round the corner. I kick the air, “Damn it.” I look at Emily, “What do we do now?”

I am currently in a situation I never thought I would be in. Knocking on the door of my Mum’s house with a girl next to me and a prisoner who just stabbed my commanding officer. “Hi, I’m in a bit of a sticky patch, mind if I come in?”

“Going back to your mum’s house? Real smooth.” Our Eastern European friend sniggers in a thick accent, Emily does one of her scary looks and then kicks him in the shins with her Doc Martins.

“Always wanted to do that.” She whispers to me.

“So how can I help?” My mum sits down. I try and explain to her our situation without giving away state secrets (trickier than it sounds). In the end, we look up the shipping company and find that it is only fifteen minutes away on the bus. I turn to Emily, “I think it’s time to phone our friends.”

“But who can recall them to active service, I swear only McVallen can do that.”

“On my authority then. Let’s be honest, we need them.”

Two days later, we have to let our annoying friend go (he wouldn’t shut up) but we take many photos from many angles, we hear the doorbell go. Emily and I both slide into the hallway on our socks, pulling open the door we see the two best people that we could see, “Jack!” Elijah high fives me enthusiastically.

“Excuse me,” Emily says in mock offense, “Don’t forget me.” She tickles his stomach, “You need to stop growing,” she pushes down on his head. Jacob and I slap hands and then pull into each other to bump shoulders.

“So, who is everyone?” Mum asks from the doorway of the living room.

“Mum, this is IMPS…”

This is the fourth chapter in a book I am writing. The book (Undercover and Investigating) is the third book in a series, you can find the previous two books here: https://writeboy.blog/my-stories/ .

A lead

The rumble echoes and echoes around the circular section of mountain range, a landslide careers towards the bottom of the wide, expansive crater. “Oops.” I get up and brush myself off. Slinking towards where I think the British forces will be I am hit by a flying IMP.

“Oh thank goodness you’re alright, Jack.” Emily (after tackling me to the floor) has buried her face in my shoulder.

“Yep, that was all me.” I smile as we get up. The SAS have set about doing the same thing (just with less explosive) on the remaining planes and vehicles and I see the Pathfinders disappearing into a building.

“Captain Smith?” A timid and very out of place voice calls across the darkness.

I turn, “That would be me.”

“Yes…well…uh…yes.” He does that posh thing where they don’t want to be rude but also don’t know what to say so they just insert various in sundry posh noise.

“It’s alright I don’t bite.” I say with a bit more than a hint of sarcasm.

“Well, I am Lieutenant Burton (with the pathfinders).”

“I can tell.” I say drily (him sharing every contrast with a member of the SAS).

“We have just about cleared all the buildings so you will soon be able to perform your search. I know it may not be my place but I feel obliged to add that your previous actions were both irresponsible and dangerous to your, other Britons and Collective Power agents’ wellbeing.” He says most eloquently and meaningfully.

I let the silence hang eerily in the air, “Cool, why do you care about the people trying to kill us’ safety? Sorry I must have slept through that briefing.” He turns on his heel, obviously displeased. Emily bursts out laughing. “What did I say?” I turn to her with a wry smile.

Sliding around the halls, Emily and I have found that we approve of Collective Power’s snack resources. Both with pockets and ankle packs full, we are making our way down the last corridor. “Well at least it wasn’t a wasted trip.” Emily indicates the chocolate bar in her hand.

“Yep,” I hoist my bag up higher on my shoulder, “Last door”. Swinging it open I throw a bang snap in. Nothing happens when it hits the floor and dissipates then (five seconds later) there is a distinct crack. This time, the room with the time skip is fully furnished-the complete opposite of our last raid. We both drop our bags laden with snacks.

“Uh, O’Drice?” Emily talks into a radio set.

“Y…y…yes.” O’Drice replies through static.

“I think we’ve found it. Furthest east block, first floor, end of the corridor.”

Hurrying into the corridor, O’Drice pulls down his scarf and indicates our bags, “Really?”

“What, you would really have done something different?” Emily challenges.

“I’d have eaten it when I found it but anyways.” O’Drice turns to the room.

“I know it looks very different compared to the last room but look.” I throw another bang snap into the room and it repeats the time skip.

“Fair enough. I’ll get the technicians and engineers in here right away. Well done you two, you’re good to go.” O’Drice clasps his hands together signifying it is our time to clear out. Pulling our balaclavas and hoods up, we crunch out into the snow and find a patch without snow actually falling on it to sit. Then a chinook lands and blows enough snow to cover London twice over straight onto us to the amusement of the SAS.

“All SES members to board the chinook and return to base.” O’Drice’s voice comes over the loud speaker. To our dismay, the Pathfinders have been replaced by standard infantry and so are sharing our chinook back to Britain. The irritating Lieutenant Burton plants himself right next to Emily and me.

“I was wondering, sir, if we may recommence our discussion on your previous actions.” He says most courteously.

“I don’t know, we could but I must warn you I may well ‘recklessly to my own wellbeing’ throw myself out of the helicopter mid-flight.” I attempt to make air quotes whilst opening a Crunchy.

“I will keep that in mind, anyway. I retain my position that your actions were reckless and immature. For a Captain in the army to make a mistake as large as that and jeopardise the objective is quite frankly unacceptable. In the Queen’s Regulations it states that…” He continues, and continues, and continues some more, quoting various parts of the Queen’s Regulations (which I have not read) and proceeds with a half hour long monologue about every part of the mission where Emily and I made a mistake. “Oops, I have gone on a little bit, haven’t I? Well, I hope you don’t mind all that I have said and I certainly have no hard feelings. All I want is for the Army to continually grow in quality, and I felt obliged to stick my neck out.”

“Next time, don’t.” I turn and face him, looking into the depth of his eyes, “I do not think what you have said is helpful. What I did was for my survival and for the continuation of the mission. It in itself carried out a large part of the mission so I will defend every one of my so called ‘mistakes’ to the end, and don’t criticise someone under my command (that is out of place and unnecessary). Direct any complaints to my direct superior (Major O’Drice).” I step closer to him so only he and I know what I am saying (not wanting to embarrass him in front of his platoon), “Sometimes, if a person sticks their neck out, they lose their head. Keep it in mind.”

“Well…anyway…” I have obviously flustered Burton, “Good day to you.” He turns and walks away.

“No, it hasn’t been.” I say as I retake my seat next to a laughing Emily.

“Don’t mind him, he is a Grade A dip stick.” Emily pats the seat next to her.

“This army would be better off without people like him but that was still stupid.” I say in my grumpy voice.

“Yeah, but,” Emily puts on a posh voice, “In the Queen’s Regulations it says to forget about annoying sods like him,” Emily whispers to me, attempting to cheer me up from my obviously bad mood. It works and I can’t help beginning to laugh it off. Emily places her head on my shoulder and we fly back towards base and back towards a whole new phase of investigations.

This is the fourth chapter in a book I am writing. The book (Undercover and Investigating) is the third book in a series, you can find the previous two books here: https://writeboy.blog/my-stories/ .

In the Thick of it.

Emily and I are stuck in a damp, dank and dusty cell at the bottom of a Collective Power base. Not the best Saturday afternoon. “Alright, I’m outta here.”

“Huh.” Emily looks up.

“Look, they didn’t do the best job of searching us so I still have my USB rubber thingy , lock pick and bayonet.”

“Bayonet!” Emily blurts then corrects herself, “Bayonet?”

“Oh, yeah I did something really stupid but it might come in handy.” I slip my trouser leg up and pull out the bayonet, cutting the cable ties binding me, I turn to Emily “Do ya wanna come, cos you don’t have to.”

“Why do you have to then?” Emily questions.

“Because I am an Officer in Her Royal Majesty’s Service.” I say with the best accent I could muster (which isn’t much).

“Shush, and I’m coming.” Emily says with narrowed eyes.

Picking the lock quickly, we slide round the door. I grip the bayonet with white knuckles. “Do you know the way?” I whisper to Emily.

“Ha, as if.”

“Ok, let’s just start walking then I guess.” Surprisingly it is deserted, and we find the aftermath of Emily’s explosive lighter. We start to run, tasting freedom with arrogant senses. I dash through a door and then hit a brick wall. “Oh, not again.” I look up to see my captors. They are the same group of knuckle headed cockneys all looking down at the two of us with simple, smug grins on their faces. I stand up in front of Emily and try to be amiable, “C’mon guys, we’re just a couple of kids, let us go and both parties will forget about it in blissful ignorance.

“We’re not having a party,” the biggest one says (confused). Then in descending height order they continue.

“What’s a blissful?”

“What’s ignorance?”

“Wait are we supposed to know these kids?”

The final knuckle head opens his mouth to speak but it is swiftly closed by a huge ex-SAS fist belonging to Major O’Drice. A platoon of some sort of troops files into the corridor all armed to the teeth. O’Drice puts us on a train and then returns to coordinate the search of the captured base.

We return to base and both collapse next to each other on the sofa, “You wanna get up?” Emily asks.

“Nope.” I reply. We fall asleep, Emily’s head on my shoulder and sleep for as long as possible. We are awoken by the pleasant sensation of a Major prodding our ribs.

“Get up.” He grumbles.

“What time is it?” Emily brushes hair away from her face.

“Six” O’Drice replies as if it was normal.

We both shoot up and screech, “Six!” before slumping back and covering our ears, receding from the sudden noise.

“Right, go get changed into OP clothing, we need to do another raid of a Collective Power. Briefing on route.” O’Drice turns on his heel as if he were on a parade ground and walks out. We gather our things together and then head out. We are directed to the hanger and that’s when alarm bells start to ring. “Well then, this is an airborne operation. You will be supported by four SAS commandos and a platoon of Pathfinders, but they are on a different (intersecting) mission.”

We board the plane and O’Drice goes on to explain that we will be dropping into a location in the French Alps (found from the information recovered by us) and will have multiple objectives. The first being helping the SAS to destroy every form of transport out of the base whilst the Pathfinders clear the buildings. Once the Pathfinders have done their job we look for a room like the white washed room in the last base with the time skip. After that, we bring in the cavalry (by using satellite images there is certainly helicopter room there if not a landing strip) O’Drice and other members of SES and various branches of armed forces/special forces will be brought in and the prisoners will be brought out.

“If this goes to plan, the French government (in their happy little world) will have no clue what has happened.” O’Drice finishes.

“And still think they are good at fighting.” I whisper to Emily winning a smile. We are given large jackets, trousers and snow boots to put on, as well as an ankle pack full of explosives that we will jump with because that’s just what you want to hit the ground momentarily before you do. The SAS jump first, then us and then the Pathfinders, now’s the worst part (the bit half an hour before you jump) you can’t check anything or talk to anyone because the door is open, you can’t prepare anymore and it is too late for second thoughts yet they still haunt your brain.

After what feels like an eternity, we are given the signal to rise, as always I lead IMPS out so I have the reassurance that Emily is checking my parachute. I get to the door and everything slows down, my boots crunch on the crystals of ice quickly building up in the door way. The red light turns to green and I hear O’Drice scream “Go, go, go!”

I attempt to jump, thrusting my chest forward along with my feet but my feet slip on the ice. My head cracks against the doorframe and I fall through the air, twisting out of control. My head throbbing in wave after wave of relentless and completely mind dominating pain, I attempt to straighten my fall. I manage to start to fall straight by losing my main parachute. Releasing my secondary chute, a sudden jolt ripples through my body as my accelerating descent is quickly caught. It is at this point that I realise I am careering off, away from the target and into the vast forest of the Alps.

As landing in the target is paramount to both my survival and the mission, I harshly pull on the control wires, over correcting and accelerating my descent. I land (in perfect fashion) in the worst place possible. The four members of the SAS have somehow already started a fire fight across the landing strip and I have landed slap bang in the middle of their fight. Punching the release button on my chute, it is quickly blown away by the strong wind off into the distance.

Lying face down in the gravel at the edge of the runway, I assess my situation. SAS to my right, what seems to be an army of Collective Power agents to my left and an assortment of Soviet MIGs in front of me. My ankle sack is still attached. I pull the bag up and cut the strap so I have it around my chest. With that I throw caution to the wind, get up and run like hell towards the MIGs. Sliding under the fuselage of one I catch my breath and then try and figure out what my options are.

In the hope that blowing a load of stuff up will distract people for long enough that I can make a swift exit. I place a lump of explosive on each plane (in the wheel well just under the cockpit), then there’s the problem of blowing it up. Don’t get me wrong, I am very good at blowing stuff up and creating other forms of chaos but this particular detonation style I have never come across before. There is a large coil of wire in the bottom of the bag so I connect all of the lumps together and plug the end into the little black box.

After much tutting, shaking, bashing and irritation I think I have made a break through. But that fails as well, “Oh you stupid piece of stupid technology made for a stupid idea.” I throw the remote onto the ground and then (with an almighty explosion) I am blown away by the sheer force of the explosion. The earth is silent, then I pick the stones out of my ears and the earth is still silent. There isn’t the shot of a gun or the scrape of a bayonet. Then hell opens up.

This is the third chapter in a book I am writing. The book (Undercover and Investigating) is the third book in a series, you can find the previous two books here: https://writeboy.blog/my-stories/ .

The beginnings of Phase Two.

I wake up and look over, Emily is still flat out asleep, creeping to the kitchen I get breakfast and then go and change my clothes. By the time I return Emily is up and about. “Hi.”

“Hey,” she seems quite lively, “So what do you think we will do now?” she hops onto a stool.

Clambering onto the stool next to hers, I ask, “What do you mean in life or with IMPS?” She uses her elbow to answer. “Well, to be honest, I don’t know the answer to that.”

“Which one?” she looks across.

“Either of them.” I chuckle.

There’s a crackle, “Will Captain Jack and Private Emily please report to briefing room 5.”

“Well I think that’ll be my answer.” Emily gets up and takes her breakfast with her.

“Since when did we have a tannoy?” I reply, following her. Knocking on the door, we slowly open it.

“Come in.” O’Drice calls. Once we have sat down O’Drice begins, “A’right,” I smile at Emily, remembering our days in training with O’Drice using his signature word, “As I’m sure you will know by now, Emily, Jack was able to produce some highly valuable intel on Collective Power. One being the location of a base in Birmingham. You two will be put in and try to infiltrate the base.

“I’m sure I do not need to mention the need for speed, efficiency and effectiveness.” O’Drice pauses, “We do not have the level of intel that we would like to possess but this mission requires a very quick turnaround. CAPS will be backing you up and I will be in your ear the whole time. I know you can do this but you will be leaning hard on your initiative.” O’Drice has a pained expression and is avoiding eye contact with either of us, “I don’t believe in luck but you’re going to need a good turn or two. Get ready you leave in three hours, here is a briefing.” He hands both of us a piece of paper, “You will find everything you need for the mission in your common room.” With that he dismisses us.

We return to the common room and find two tables with a variety of different gadgets on. I begin to inspect the provided items: the usual air pod-disguised ear piece, my trusty and battered radar watch and a selection of other new issue devices. Starting with a simple lock picking set, to a small explosive designed like an old style lighter, to a USB stick made to look like a rubber finally they have supplied me with a pair of track suit bottoms and a hoody. Bundling it all up I go to my room and change. Slotting all of the gadgets into their specific pockets and hideaways, I grab my door handle and turn it down, then I do something stupid.

Turning, I reach for the leather holder I made and the bayonet I captured and buckle it to my lower leg, pulling my trousers down over it I exit the room. “You alright, Jack?” Emily says brightly as I walk into the common room, “Jack?” an element of worry creeps into her voice.

“Huh, yeah… yeah I’m fine thanks.” I gaze into the distance.

“Well cheer up then, it’ll be a doddle,” Emily gives me a friendly nudge on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure it will.” I give Emily a nervous half smile.

O’Drice gives us a lift to the train station, stopping in the deserted car park he takes us round to the boot. There are two back packs, he hands us one each. “Ok, you won’t get checked by the cops,” He lifts up a false floor and reveals a load more items. “One of you will have a pistol (Glock gen 4)-“

“You,” Emily interrupts and pushes the gun towards me.

“Then you’ll need this,” O’Drice hands me ammunition. He gives us maps and various other items. With that we get on the train. In an empty carriage, I pull out the gun and clean, oil and load it.

We alight from the train and make our way to the back door of Collective Power’s base. “Bit of a cliché, right?” Emily jokes.

“Maybe but we’ve still got a job to do.” I slip out my lock-picking set and get to work. In a matter of minutes the door is open and I walk through, there are two corridors leading in opposite directions.

“Take the right.” O’Drice instructs us. We cautiously advance, not knowing where to go, what we are going to find or who is in this place. We find a door, strangely unguarded, and see a large group of computers, taking out our rubbers we download as much data as possible, then use Emily’s lighter as a timed bomb and run like hell. When it explodes, it starts to get unhinged. A billion sirens and alarms are going and people are running to and fro with crazily big guns.

“This place makes America look positively safe.” Emily whispers in my ear. I give no answer. O’Drice suddenly turns to ear splitting static we both frantically rip out our ear pieces.

“Alright, follow me.” I practically tip toe down the corridor, looking over my shoulder at every turn.

“Jack, I’ve got the back, just make sure we don’t walk into a ton of armed guards.” Emily reassures me by gripping my shoulder. We hear a pounding of feet behind us so I fling open the nearest door.

“In here,” I pull Emily inside. It is a peculiar room for the simple fact that it has no furniture, or anything else for that matter. I lock the door and turn back. Apart from the door, there is just white wash. The floor, the ceiling, the walls. All of it is white. Emily walks to the centre of the room, “Where are we?” She tries to say but nothing comes out, then after five seconds it echoes around the room. “Woah.” The same thing happens.

“Emily, come here quick I need to tell you something.” I tell her everything, about the alley near my house and all that I have been able to find out. “They must have been developing this. Either way we have to somehow find a way of stopping them destroying the evidence.”

“I have a way,” Emily produces a little button, “O’Drice gave me it before we got on the train, he gave it to me as insurance against your stupidity or ‘foolhardiness’” Emily answers my confused face and demonstrates quotation marks in the air. She presses it, “Ok, now what.”

“We try out my ‘foolhardiness’” I mimic Emily’s air quotes. I fling open the door and fire two shots into the air.

“This is a robbery!” Emily screams.

“What?” I turn to her confused.

“I don’t know, sounded better in my head.” She says tucking loose hair behind her ear.

“Hands up.” A comically cockney voice orders.

“Back at ya.” I smash the butt of the Glock into his nose, breaking it, and kick him in the groin. He collapses in pain. “Anyone else wanna go?” My adrenaline says without my brains permission.

“Yeah, us.” Five more cockneys appear.

“Honestly where are they getting them from?” Emily says exasperated.

“Ok, everyone look up at the ceiling.” I say before pulling Emily round the corner with me and pegging it down the corridor. I drop my lighter explosive behind me and crouch behind a corner, the explosive causes a stifled yelp. As I hear the footsteps approaching, I order Emily back. I explode out and rugby tackle one. Then I have a problem because three more are bearing down on me.

I swipe the hand cuffs from another’s belt and with surprising accuracy attach his and another’s hands together. Before ducking under their confused and outstretched hands to get away from a flying cockney. It takes all three down. I fly round the corner, Emily hot on my heels and then we run into a brick wall. There must have been fifty agents all looking down at us. “Well we had a go.” I turn to Emily with a disappointed expression.

This is the second chapter in a book I am writing. The book (Undercover and Investigating) is the third book in a series, you can find the previous two books here: https://writeboy.blog/my-stories/ .

Answers and Even More Questions.

“You know it’s a little anticlimactic,” Emily and I walk through the front door of the Scotland HQ. I have a worrying and inconvenient habit of getting knocked out just before we return to base, meaning it’s my fourth arrival at HQ but the first time entering with my wits about me.

“Ahh, Jack and Emily just the people I need to see.” Lieutenant Colonel McVallen greets us in her usual business like tone, “Follow me if you please.”

“What a lovely welcome home.” Emily whispers to me. McVallen sits us both down in Briefing Room 5.

“Now, let’s start with the Captain,” (that’s me), “Can you tell me everything from start to finish?” McVallen gives me an intense stare. I explain about seeing her talking to my coach, Emily pulling me aside to tell me about the Collective Power agent, the explosion that smelled strongly of petrol and then the chase with the knife as well. Emily says a pretty similar chain of events to me. “Ok, so we have the bomber in custody here, he has admitted to being the bomber but there is a slight problem.”

“What’s that?” Emily is quick off the mark.

“He can read people’s minds,”

“Oh.”

“So, our mind readers down in interrogation are having their minds read instead of reading his. It appears that he was sent in on a fact finding mission to try and uncover secrets from around our base. He has succeeded so we have considerably stepped up security around the base and him as we expect an imminent attack on our base. That still leaves us with the issue that we haven’t been able to get an ounce of info out of him.”

“How can we help?” I ask, puzzled.

“Well, it’s a long shot, but I think you might be able to, Jack. You see your father could do this thing where he slipped inside the mind readers’ brains as they were accessing his, almost mirroring their powers. I was wondering if you could try the same thing.”

“I’ll give it a shot but no promises.” At this point I am unbelievably nervous, what if I can’t do it? Wouldn’t that just make it worse? I walk into the room. No windows, a single steel door, a cast iron table built into the ground with a matching chair. On the other side of the table there is a normal chair. The terrorist sits slouched, wrists bound to the table, ankles bound to the chair and wrists and ankles bound together. “You really haven’t been that hospitable.” He sneers.

“Well, I do wish to remedy that.” I fire back, placing a tooth brush on the table before him, “This is something called a tooth brush, you can scrape off some of the forty odd years of dirt, grime and coffee stains with it.” I give him a defiant smile.

“Ooo, you’re too good to me.” He lifts his chin off his chest, “So tell me, you’re not an interrogator, you’re a field agent, so why are they sending you in? Must be on their last straw eh.”

“Oh, wrong in two ways, you’re improving. Your lot are usually wrong in many more ways than that.” I move so my elbows are on the table, “I’m not a field agent, I’m a Captain and I’m not their last straw, their last straw is far worse than me. Remember, we’re a part of the Special Forces, unlike your band of deluded sociopaths who are trying to pretend that they’re anything but a nuisance.”

“Oohoo, wow.” I can see the rage in his eyes, a tunnel to his brain, that he is desperately trying to hide and it’s playing right into my hands.

“But, if you don’t wanna talk then I guess we are down to our last straw but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” Shrugging I get up and walk to the door slightly hunched in a defeated manner.

“I killed your daddy.” He laughs, crazed almost high off the reaction he knows he’s getting. I take my hand off the door handle and turn around.

“What did you say?”

“I killed your daddy, he squealed, he squawked for you, you and your mummy. You’re next and then your mummy with no one to protect her.” His laugh reignites, a vein in his temple throbs, his greasy greyish brown hair bounces with delight and the rage is let loose from his eyes. Exploding forward, I grab the toothbrush and ram it at his throat, minimising the air supply so it hurts, it really hurts but not completely, he is still breathing but it’s hard, it’s really hard.

I hear people hammering on the door behind, the door I locked from the inside, they must have seen through the tiny window or a hidden camera. Incandescent with rage I shake him, he turns purple, helpless and feeble. He smiles, under the false pretence that he has got the better of me. I let him believe he has. I’m putting so much force through him that the chair buckles and then breaks. He is being held up by the chains and pushed down by me and all the weight I’ve accumulated in 15 years. He tries to smile but I short arm him in the face and that’s when he tries it. He tries to conquer my mind but I’m too fast for him.

Everything slows down, and then the indescribable happens. Even I don’t understand it, but I almost dodge his attempt at throwing his mind at mine and slip round, catching him on the way back. I now have unrestricted access to all of his memories, I think of something and I see what he knows about it. I wonder a question and he answers it, to the best of his ability, with memories, visions.

I see the route to a Collective Power base in Birmingham. I see all he knows about us. I see other agents, commanders and technology they have. I can see everything that he has seen but I can’t touch it. I can’t erase it, confuse it or add to it. Only watch it, as if it’s on a screen. I take in as much as I can before resurfacing. “Pleasure doing business with you.” I pat him on the side of his shoulder twice before turning on my heel and whistle to the door, unlocking it and walking out.

This leaves him with an almost betrayed look on his face, on the floor still being held up by the chains and with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. However I have a renewed spring in my step and a bemused smile. “Oh my goodness, Jack, what happened in there? What did you do? What did he say?”

“Captain Smith, with me.” The Colonel says sternly.

“I’ll tell you all about it, later.” I have to prise Emily’s hand off my arm. McVallen takes me to a room with the now Major O’Drice in it (the only member of the SES without a power unless you count shouting very loud). McVallen starts by giving an exceedingly thorough dressing down, O’Drice expresses his disappointment. Then they ask me to explain myself, “You see I’ve known people like him for a long time, they’re cocky but– annoyingly- they can back it up ninety five percent of the time. You have to let their cockiness get ahead of them. You see he thought he’d got under my skin, he baited me and I pretended to take the bait. After that I just had to hurt his ego enough to fuel his anger into being rash and losing control of his powers.”

“Huh.” O’Drice looks at me sternly.

“Look, Jack, I know what he said to you and no one would blame you if you were just angry. But if that is the truth then I can accept that.”

“Give me some paper and I can show you that it’s the truth.” I write down descriptions of everything I saw, people, places and technology. Finally sitting back, and putting the pen down, I say, “And I can take you to a base of theirs.”

McVallen and O’Drice’s jaws simultaneously drop to the floor. “That will be all, Captain.” McVallen dismisses me. I scamper back to the IMPS common room.

“Jack!” Emily jumps up at me and throws her arms around my neck, “What happened to you?”

“Long story.” We sit down and I explain, to the best of my ability, everything about what I did, how I did it and what I saw. In the end we fall asleep on the sofa watching TV.