Fic, Silk and Steel, Part 63, AU, 18
Oct. 6th, 2010 07:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : Silk and Steel, Part 63
Authors : fredbassett & munchkinofdoom
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Leek, Lorraine, Lyle, Helen, Thomson, Lester
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not ours, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None
Summary : Leek is now in control of the Anomaly Project and realises quite how much he has to contend with.
A/N : Captain Thomson appears by kind permission of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deinonychus_1 .
Warning : Slave!fic.
Oliver Leek made his way up the ramp and towards Lester’s – now his – office. Lyle followed three paces behind, quiet and dangerous.
Lorraine Wickes was at her desk already, looking as immaculate as ever, her glasses helping to hide the dark shadows under her eyes. Leek could smell coffee and discovered a plate piled high with fresh croissants waiting for him on his desk, next to a large pot of coffee and two mugs.
“Captain Thomson’s report is on your desk, Mr Leek,” said Lorraine as she followed him into the room and started pouring the coffee.
Leek nodded, wondering how much coffee it was advisable to imbibe if he was shortly to have the dubious pleasure of speaking directly to the Prime Minister.
“Sir James always felt the need for at least two before a conversation with Downing Street,” Lorraine said quietly. “I’ve had the PM’s aide on the line already. The PM will be calling you at 7.30.”
Leek nodded, wondering, not for the first time, whether Lorraine Wickes had actually listed telepathy on her no doubt impressive CV. He poured coffee for himself and his bodyguard and handed over a plate with half the pastries. Under Lyle’s watchful eyes, he forced himself to eat a croissant and earned an approving nod when he managed a second one without any urging. After brushing the crumbs from his suit, Leek settled himself carefully into the black leather chair, ignoring the twinge from his arse, and opened the file Thomson had left for him.
The man’s reports were as direct and to the point as the captain’s manner in person. In a few succinct paragraphs Leek learnt that all the blood and urine tests on Sir James Lester had proved negative, as had the drugs screenings from the various glasses and mugs from inside Lester’s rooms. The security footage had been examined and re-examined overnight by a combination of Connor Temple and one of the other computer technicians and, apart from the discrepancies they were already aware of in the footage from the atrium, no other signs of tampering had been found. As Ryan couldn’t have been in two places at once, Leek was forced to the conclusion that someone more skilled than their own resident hacker had found a way into the system. Probably the same person who had left a computer virus behind that had already taxed Temple’s skills.
He was still staring at the report in his hands when he heard Lorraine say, “Downing Street will be calling in two minutes, Mr Leek.”
Leek automatically ran his hands over his thinning hair and straightened his tie. At 7.30am exactly Lorraine put the expected call through to his room and Leek found himself staring at the dour face of the Prime Minister on his computer screen. In his experience, the man rarely smiled, except when he was dealing with the press, and this morning was no exception.
“Occupying the seat of power at last, eh, Oliver?” The man’s Scottish burr was lighter than Cutter’s, but still noticeable. “You’d better get used to it.”
It was all Leek could do not to squirm under the Prime Minister’s gaze. He felt like a butterfly pinned to a board under the avid eyes of a collector.
“That came as something of a surprise, sir,” he murmured.
“Well, I was hardly going to put that bloody Cutter woman in charge. Don’t trust her as far as I could throw a grand piano. Thomson will fill you in, if he hasn’t done already, but keep it to yourself, Oliver. We just need to make sure she stays on board, at least until we can find out how much she knows.”
Leek was conscious of the fact that this conversation was starting to resemble the one he’d had last night with Lord Newnam. He was opening and closing his mouth, but not getting the chance to speak. It looked very much like he’d just been confirmed in place as Director of the Anomaly Project, but there were still some loose ends that needed to be tied up.
“What about Sir James?” he asked respectfully. “We have no evidence of any wrong-doing on his part, sir.”
“Keep him in custody until after the soldier’s execution. I don’t want James trying to throw a spanner in the works. We need a whipping-boy, literally as well as metaphorically, and Captain Ryan will fill that role admirably.”
Leek’s stomach churned at the man’s words and he was all too conscious of Lyle’s silent presence in the room. “The security footage is by no means conclusive, sir. We need more time to establish what part – if any – Ryan played in the sabotage. I’m by no means convinced of his guilt. Nor is Thomson,” he added hastily, hoping that nothing Thomson had said in his own reports to his superiors would contradict that assertion.
The Prime Minister waved a hand dismissively. “Children died, Oliver. So did the Saudi Ambassador. Someone else needs to die now. That’s the way of the world. Besides, it’ll serve as a smokescreen for the rest of Thomson’s investigations. If the guilty party thinks you’ve stopped looking they may be slightly less diligent in covering their tracks. Kill two birds with one stone, and all that.”
Leek winced. It wasn’t a bird they were talking about killing, but a man. A man who’d shown nothing but loyalty to the Anomaly Project since the beginning. “But, sir…”
“No buts, Oliver. Tell Thomson to make the arrangements. I want it done as quickly as possible. The Saudis will want to see the footage – it’ll be right up their street. Tell your media woman to get a couple of decent photos and release them to the press with a statement saying that this government doesn’t tolerate incompetence. Make sure she clears it with my people first so we’re all singing from the same hymn sheet.”
“Yes, sir.” Leek felt the full weight of Lyle’s gaze bearing down on him and he just hoped that what had happened between them the previous night would be enough to secure the lieutenant’s loyalty in the face of an execution order on his erstwhile commanding officer.
“Good man. Tell Lester that when the dust settles, I’ll find him another project. His pension won’t be affected. That should keep him happy. In the meantime, keep him confined and keep him out of my hair. He can be an awkward little bugger and I’ve enough on my plate at the moment without him and his cronies making waves.”
A moment later, Leek found himself staring at a blank screen. He drew in a deep breath and turned around in his chair to face Lyle. The soldier was composed, his hazel eyes flint-hard.
“You did what you could,” Lyle said quietly.
“Ryan’s a good man, Lyle. I’m truly sorry.”
Lyle nodded his face still impassive. He opened his mouth to speak, but Helen Cutter’s sharp voice from the outer office cut through the silence instead.
“Of course Oliver will see me!”
“There’s no ‘of course’ about it, Dr Cutter,” countered Lorraine smoothly, but with a surprising amount of steel in her voice for someone who wore a collar. “Mr Leek is a busy man.”
Leek shot an exasperated look at Lyle, who simply shrugged and rolled his eyes. Helen Cutter was the last person Leek felt like dealing with, but he wasn’t going to be able to avoid her forever. “Send Dr Cutter in, Lorraine,” he called. “And page Captain Thomson, please.”
Helen swept into his office wearing the look of a cat that’d just had a mouse taken away from it. “You need to keep your pet dogs under better control!” she snapped, leaving Leek to glance, puzzled, at Lyle.
The lieutenant gave a slight shake of his head, which only confirmed Leek’s own view. Lyle hadn’t left his side in all the time Helen had been in the ARC, so he’d hardly been in any position to incur her wrath.
“I do believe the Science Director is talking about me, sir,” said Thomson in his usual cultured tones from the doorway, betraying a hint of amusement that brought a flash of fury to Helen’s dark eyes.
Leek made a tut-tutting noise. “Really, Captain Thomson, what have you been doing now?”
Just for a moment, Leek thought he saw the shadow of a grin start to form on Thomson’s face, then the soldier wiped his expression studiously clean as Helen Cutter swivelled around to face him.
“You seem to forget you wear a collar,” she hissed.
“I never forget I wear a collar, ma’am,” Thomson said quietly but with a venom to match Helen’s own.
“He challenged my authority,” Helen snapped, turning her attention back to Leek.
“Captain Thomson has been expressing opinions on the science programme? How very remiss of him.”
Helen Cutter opened her mouth then closed it again without speaking, an appraising look settling on her face. “I expect slaves to know their place.”
Leek smiled ingratiatingly. “So do I, Dr Cutter, so do I. But Captain Thomson is acting with my full authority.”
“Well, that won’t last long!” A small smile of triumph curled Helen’s full lips.
“Au contraire, my dear lady,” Leek purred. “I was speaking to the Prime Minister only a few moments ago. I feel sure I can rely on your full support in these difficult times.”
Helen’s eyes widened, providing confirmation of Leek’s suspicions. She’d expected to be handed control of the ARC and it hadn’t happened. A small shiver ran down his spine at the venomous look on the woman’s face. Helen Cutter was a bad enemy to make; he had no doubt about that at all. And for the life of him he couldn’t see how he was going to succeed in keeping her under control without alienating her in the process. But something had drawn her to the ARC and while she thought she had a chance of outwitting him, it seemed a safe bet that she’d stick around, even if it was only out of a desire to make his life even more difficult.
“Of course you can, Oliver,” Helen replied, her emotions now firmly under control and a smile plastered on her carefully made-up face. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
With that, she swept out of the room, leaving Leek alone with the two soldiers. He waved Thomson to a chair, already feeling tired and on edge, even though it wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning.
“What really happened?” he asked Thomson.
“Cutter caught her with Stephen Hart’s dick in her hand,” Thomson replied, studiously avoiding Lyle’s eyes. “He wasn’t best pleased and I had to break up the brawl.”
Leek’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh dear God, the woman’s a menace.”
Thomson nodded. He glanced over at Lyle and added, “Hart looked like a rabbit in the headlights. Whatever went on there is clearly a thing of the past.”
Lyle was tight-lipped, his face giving nothing away, but it was clear to Leek that Helen Cutter had just made another enemy. Several enemies, in fact, based on Thomson’s comments.
“So while we’re on the subject of our new Science Director, enlighten me as to why the bloody woman is so important, Thomson. The Prime Minister intimated that you have information that will no doubt be of relevance to my attempts at controlling what rapidly seems to be turning into a bear-garden.”
“She has access to technology that we need, sir.”
Leek raised one eyebrow enquiringly.
“She has technology that can control the anomalies.”
“So why haven’t you just pulled her fingernails out, or used enhanced interrogation techniques, as you prefer to call them?”
“We tried,” said Thomson ruefully. “She disappeared and I lost four men.”
“How very careless of you. And it’s now my job to succeed where Section 42 failed? I’m honoured, Thomson.” A sudden thought struck Leek and his eyes narrowed. “She’s using future technology.” It was a statement, not a question, and he wasn’t surprised when Thomson nodded in reply. “The creatures that attacked the ARC were being controlled by a technology that no one here had ever seen before. Should I be putting two and two together and making five?”
Thomson nodded again.
“I don’t appreciate being hung out to dry, Captain. I was aware of the fact that the people pulling your strings wanted more say in how this project was run, but I wasn’t expecting to find myself on the expendable list. It was meant to be a simple case of demonstrating that the ARC needed more military resources. Instead it turned into a minor war.”
“Her tendency towards a scorched earth policy is the main reason for keeping Mrs Cutter out of the top job, sir. She does seem somewhat… unconcerned about the fate of others, to put it mildly.”
“Yes, she does, doesn’t she?” said Leek thoughtfully. “And speaking of scorched earth policies…” He drew in a steadying breath. “The PM has decreed that Captain Ryan must pay the price for the deaths at the school.”
“And the sabotage?”
“That as well, if it seems expedient. But I expect your investigations to continue, Thomson.”
The captain nodded, his expression as thoughtful as Leek’s. “What of Sir James?”
“The PM fully expects him to be cleared of any complicity in recent events, but for the moment, Sir James will remain in custody. I will break the news about Ryan to him personally. I presume I can leave the arrangements in your hands?”
Thomson nodded and, to Leek’s surprise, the soldier didn’t look any happier about it than he did.
* * * * *
The two guards outside Lester’s private quarters saluted respectfully. Leek drew in a deep breath and knocked twice.
A moment later a bored-sounding voice called, “Enter!”
Sir James Lester was dressed as immaculately as ever and, from his appearance, might simply have been taking a well-earned break, but Leek had worked with the man for long enough to recognise the signs of strain.
Out of long habit, Leek smiled ingratiatingly. “Good morning, Sir James, I hope you slept well?”
Lester rolled his eyes and made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Get on with it, Oliver.”
“As it’s a nice day, I thought you might appreciate a stroll in the grounds.”
Lester’s eyes narrowed and he nodded. With Lyle following at a discreet distance they made their way out of the ARC and headed out across the grass to the shores of the large, crescent-shaped lake in the extensive grounds. At least out there Leek could be reasonably sure their conversation wouldn’t be over-heard or recorded. The pale winter sun sparkled on the surface of the water, and a chill wind raised small waves and blew through the reeds by the shore. Leek buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket and wished he’d picked up a coat before leaving the building.
“I spoke to the PM this morning,” he said, without further preamble.
“How nice for you,” Lester commented, pulling up a tall reed stalk as they passed and twisting it between his fingers.
“The PM says that when the dust settles he’ll find you another job. He told me to tell you that your pension won’t be affected.”
“Very generous of him.” Lester’s voice was glacial with scorn. “And the bad news?”
“Ryan has to die.”
The stalk of grass snapped in Lester’s hands. “He’s innocent.”
“I know that, you know that, Thomson knows that, even the bloody PM knows that. But the Saudis want blood and the PM needs a scapegoat.”
“So Ryan gets flogged to death and the rest of us live happily ever after?”
“Chance would be a fine thing,” Leek muttered. He met Lester’s eyes and almost recoiled from the depth of emotion he encountered. If looks could have killed, Lyle would have been zipping him into a body bag. “I’m sorry, James, I really am.”
In the long silence that followed, Leek was all too aware of the residual pain left behind by his encounter with his own bodyguard the previous night. Lester’s gaze seemed intent on stripping away every protective layer he’d built up around himself and he felt heat rising in his cheeks.
“I do believe you are, Oliver,” Lester said eventually, allowing the broken stalk to fall from his fingers. “Does Ryan know?”
Leek shook his head. “I’m told Thomson will make the arrangements.” Leek had worked in the darker side of government for long enough to know what those arrangements would consist of.
A call would be made to a government approved executioner. A time would be agreed, sooner rather than later, and then someone would arrive at the ARC to flog Ryan to death. Blood tests would be administered by the executioner – a fully qualified medical practitioner – to ensure that no painkillers, or other drugs, had been given to the condemned man and the whole business would be recorded for posterity, in glorious Technicolor, no doubt with wrap-around sound for added effect.
Leek had witnessed several such executions in his time in the Prison Service and one look at the horror that had settled on Lester’s aquiline features told him that his former boss was no stranger to such things, either. It was a vile way to die. He just hoped that the military would have some means of looking after their own, but in a high-profile case like this he had to accept that it was probably a vain hope. Especially when the footage would be scrutinised in high places.
“Am I right in presuming that I am to be denied the opportunity of conducting an appeal?”
Leek nodded. “The PM has ordered you to be kept incommunicado until after…” he groped for the right words and ending up simply leaving the sentence unfinished.
“I want to break it to him myself.” Lester’s eyes held open challenge and Leek was reminded forcibly that a man like Lester was never entirely out of the game. Unless he wanted to make an even more dangerous enemy than Helen Cutter might prove to be, this was one request he couldn’t refuse.
“If Ryan is well enough, I’ll have him brought to your rooms. If he isn’t, I’ll arrange for you to have time alone in the infirmary.”
“Thank you.” For once, Lester’s voice was devoid of irony or sarcasm. He sounded as tired as Leek felt.
The silence that followed was broken only by a sudden flurry in the lake. A mallard flapped away noisily, leaving behind a several tail feathers that fluttered on the breeze before drifting down to settle down on the water.
“Pike,” Lester remarked. “You really need to get Norman to do something about the wretched things or we won’t have any ducks left, and you know the soldiers like throwing crusts at them on their tea breaks.”
“He’ll probably lob in a hand grenade. Subtlety isn’t one of his strong points.”
“Speaking of subtlety, I presume you’ll have the good sense not to turn your back on Mrs Cutter?” Lester remarked, continuing their walk around the lakeside.
“She’s a poisonous bitch, isn’t she?” Leek said, falling into step beside him. “Her ex-husband thinks so, too. Apparently he caught her with her hand in Hart’s trousers. Came to blows, according to Thomson.”
Lester rolled his eyes. “The man needs to start thinking with his head, not his fists. Correction, you need a man who will use his head, not his fists, and this Professor Nick Cutter isn’t that man. He’s out of his depth, and it shows. Talk to Annie Morris, Leek. I brought her onto the project with the express intention of giving Cutter his dearest wish. You need to send him home, and you need to send him home quickly. He’s a loose cannon, and his ex-wife is more than capable of priming and firing him. And if she does, God knows who’ll get hit next. You need our Cutter back. He’s an obnoxious bastard, but he’ll have her measure, you can be sure of that. He was quick enough to divorce her when her antics started to threaten his career. And when he does use his fists, the difference is that he carries on thinking. This one doesn’t.”
Leek came to a halt for a moment and drew in a long breath as his world slowly settled back on a slightly different axis. “You really believe him?”
Lester half-turned and snorted, “Of course I believe him! We’re dealing with rips in time and dinosaurs for a living, Leek, what’s so hard to get to grips with about parallel universes, or whatever the hell it is we’re dealing with?”
“But Cutter claimed that something they’d done had changed the past.” Or was it the future? Leek had never been entirely sure and, to be honest, he hasn’t paid that much attention, dismissing Cutter’s claims as the product of one trip too many through the anomalies.
“They stepped on a butterfly in the Permian and a woman called Claudia Brown ceased to exist and was replaced by Jenny Lewis? A little too selective, don’t you think? Oh, and as a by product, the entire System of Indenture popped up overnight. No matter how much it might seem like it, this isn’t actually some sort of low-budget science fiction series. Annie and Temple have been conducting their own investigations and it looks very much like they haven’t been wasting the taxpayers’ hard-earned money for once. Talk to her, Leek, and do it quickly.”
And, feeling more out of his depth than ever, Leek trailed after Lester, a hundred questions jostling for position in his brain, as he wished – not for the first time – that he had even half of the other man’s composure.
Authors : fredbassett & munchkinofdoom
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Leek, Lorraine, Lyle, Helen, Thomson, Lester
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not ours, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None
Summary : Leek is now in control of the Anomaly Project and realises quite how much he has to contend with.
A/N : Captain Thomson appears by kind permission of
deinonychus_1 .Warning : Slave!fic.
Oliver Leek made his way up the ramp and towards Lester’s – now his – office. Lyle followed three paces behind, quiet and dangerous.
Lorraine Wickes was at her desk already, looking as immaculate as ever, her glasses helping to hide the dark shadows under her eyes. Leek could smell coffee and discovered a plate piled high with fresh croissants waiting for him on his desk, next to a large pot of coffee and two mugs.
“Captain Thomson’s report is on your desk, Mr Leek,” said Lorraine as she followed him into the room and started pouring the coffee.
Leek nodded, wondering how much coffee it was advisable to imbibe if he was shortly to have the dubious pleasure of speaking directly to the Prime Minister.
“Sir James always felt the need for at least two before a conversation with Downing Street,” Lorraine said quietly. “I’ve had the PM’s aide on the line already. The PM will be calling you at 7.30.”
Leek nodded, wondering, not for the first time, whether Lorraine Wickes had actually listed telepathy on her no doubt impressive CV. He poured coffee for himself and his bodyguard and handed over a plate with half the pastries. Under Lyle’s watchful eyes, he forced himself to eat a croissant and earned an approving nod when he managed a second one without any urging. After brushing the crumbs from his suit, Leek settled himself carefully into the black leather chair, ignoring the twinge from his arse, and opened the file Thomson had left for him.
The man’s reports were as direct and to the point as the captain’s manner in person. In a few succinct paragraphs Leek learnt that all the blood and urine tests on Sir James Lester had proved negative, as had the drugs screenings from the various glasses and mugs from inside Lester’s rooms. The security footage had been examined and re-examined overnight by a combination of Connor Temple and one of the other computer technicians and, apart from the discrepancies they were already aware of in the footage from the atrium, no other signs of tampering had been found. As Ryan couldn’t have been in two places at once, Leek was forced to the conclusion that someone more skilled than their own resident hacker had found a way into the system. Probably the same person who had left a computer virus behind that had already taxed Temple’s skills.
He was still staring at the report in his hands when he heard Lorraine say, “Downing Street will be calling in two minutes, Mr Leek.”
Leek automatically ran his hands over his thinning hair and straightened his tie. At 7.30am exactly Lorraine put the expected call through to his room and Leek found himself staring at the dour face of the Prime Minister on his computer screen. In his experience, the man rarely smiled, except when he was dealing with the press, and this morning was no exception.
“Occupying the seat of power at last, eh, Oliver?” The man’s Scottish burr was lighter than Cutter’s, but still noticeable. “You’d better get used to it.”
It was all Leek could do not to squirm under the Prime Minister’s gaze. He felt like a butterfly pinned to a board under the avid eyes of a collector.
“That came as something of a surprise, sir,” he murmured.
“Well, I was hardly going to put that bloody Cutter woman in charge. Don’t trust her as far as I could throw a grand piano. Thomson will fill you in, if he hasn’t done already, but keep it to yourself, Oliver. We just need to make sure she stays on board, at least until we can find out how much she knows.”
Leek was conscious of the fact that this conversation was starting to resemble the one he’d had last night with Lord Newnam. He was opening and closing his mouth, but not getting the chance to speak. It looked very much like he’d just been confirmed in place as Director of the Anomaly Project, but there were still some loose ends that needed to be tied up.
“What about Sir James?” he asked respectfully. “We have no evidence of any wrong-doing on his part, sir.”
“Keep him in custody until after the soldier’s execution. I don’t want James trying to throw a spanner in the works. We need a whipping-boy, literally as well as metaphorically, and Captain Ryan will fill that role admirably.”
Leek’s stomach churned at the man’s words and he was all too conscious of Lyle’s silent presence in the room. “The security footage is by no means conclusive, sir. We need more time to establish what part – if any – Ryan played in the sabotage. I’m by no means convinced of his guilt. Nor is Thomson,” he added hastily, hoping that nothing Thomson had said in his own reports to his superiors would contradict that assertion.
The Prime Minister waved a hand dismissively. “Children died, Oliver. So did the Saudi Ambassador. Someone else needs to die now. That’s the way of the world. Besides, it’ll serve as a smokescreen for the rest of Thomson’s investigations. If the guilty party thinks you’ve stopped looking they may be slightly less diligent in covering their tracks. Kill two birds with one stone, and all that.”
Leek winced. It wasn’t a bird they were talking about killing, but a man. A man who’d shown nothing but loyalty to the Anomaly Project since the beginning. “But, sir…”
“No buts, Oliver. Tell Thomson to make the arrangements. I want it done as quickly as possible. The Saudis will want to see the footage – it’ll be right up their street. Tell your media woman to get a couple of decent photos and release them to the press with a statement saying that this government doesn’t tolerate incompetence. Make sure she clears it with my people first so we’re all singing from the same hymn sheet.”
“Yes, sir.” Leek felt the full weight of Lyle’s gaze bearing down on him and he just hoped that what had happened between them the previous night would be enough to secure the lieutenant’s loyalty in the face of an execution order on his erstwhile commanding officer.
“Good man. Tell Lester that when the dust settles, I’ll find him another project. His pension won’t be affected. That should keep him happy. In the meantime, keep him confined and keep him out of my hair. He can be an awkward little bugger and I’ve enough on my plate at the moment without him and his cronies making waves.”
A moment later, Leek found himself staring at a blank screen. He drew in a deep breath and turned around in his chair to face Lyle. The soldier was composed, his hazel eyes flint-hard.
“You did what you could,” Lyle said quietly.
“Ryan’s a good man, Lyle. I’m truly sorry.”
Lyle nodded his face still impassive. He opened his mouth to speak, but Helen Cutter’s sharp voice from the outer office cut through the silence instead.
“Of course Oliver will see me!”
“There’s no ‘of course’ about it, Dr Cutter,” countered Lorraine smoothly, but with a surprising amount of steel in her voice for someone who wore a collar. “Mr Leek is a busy man.”
Leek shot an exasperated look at Lyle, who simply shrugged and rolled his eyes. Helen Cutter was the last person Leek felt like dealing with, but he wasn’t going to be able to avoid her forever. “Send Dr Cutter in, Lorraine,” he called. “And page Captain Thomson, please.”
Helen swept into his office wearing the look of a cat that’d just had a mouse taken away from it. “You need to keep your pet dogs under better control!” she snapped, leaving Leek to glance, puzzled, at Lyle.
The lieutenant gave a slight shake of his head, which only confirmed Leek’s own view. Lyle hadn’t left his side in all the time Helen had been in the ARC, so he’d hardly been in any position to incur her wrath.
“I do believe the Science Director is talking about me, sir,” said Thomson in his usual cultured tones from the doorway, betraying a hint of amusement that brought a flash of fury to Helen’s dark eyes.
Leek made a tut-tutting noise. “Really, Captain Thomson, what have you been doing now?”
Just for a moment, Leek thought he saw the shadow of a grin start to form on Thomson’s face, then the soldier wiped his expression studiously clean as Helen Cutter swivelled around to face him.
“You seem to forget you wear a collar,” she hissed.
“I never forget I wear a collar, ma’am,” Thomson said quietly but with a venom to match Helen’s own.
“He challenged my authority,” Helen snapped, turning her attention back to Leek.
“Captain Thomson has been expressing opinions on the science programme? How very remiss of him.”
Helen Cutter opened her mouth then closed it again without speaking, an appraising look settling on her face. “I expect slaves to know their place.”
Leek smiled ingratiatingly. “So do I, Dr Cutter, so do I. But Captain Thomson is acting with my full authority.”
“Well, that won’t last long!” A small smile of triumph curled Helen’s full lips.
“Au contraire, my dear lady,” Leek purred. “I was speaking to the Prime Minister only a few moments ago. I feel sure I can rely on your full support in these difficult times.”
Helen’s eyes widened, providing confirmation of Leek’s suspicions. She’d expected to be handed control of the ARC and it hadn’t happened. A small shiver ran down his spine at the venomous look on the woman’s face. Helen Cutter was a bad enemy to make; he had no doubt about that at all. And for the life of him he couldn’t see how he was going to succeed in keeping her under control without alienating her in the process. But something had drawn her to the ARC and while she thought she had a chance of outwitting him, it seemed a safe bet that she’d stick around, even if it was only out of a desire to make his life even more difficult.
“Of course you can, Oliver,” Helen replied, her emotions now firmly under control and a smile plastered on her carefully made-up face. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
With that, she swept out of the room, leaving Leek alone with the two soldiers. He waved Thomson to a chair, already feeling tired and on edge, even though it wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning.
“What really happened?” he asked Thomson.
“Cutter caught her with Stephen Hart’s dick in her hand,” Thomson replied, studiously avoiding Lyle’s eyes. “He wasn’t best pleased and I had to break up the brawl.”
Leek’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh dear God, the woman’s a menace.”
Thomson nodded. He glanced over at Lyle and added, “Hart looked like a rabbit in the headlights. Whatever went on there is clearly a thing of the past.”
Lyle was tight-lipped, his face giving nothing away, but it was clear to Leek that Helen Cutter had just made another enemy. Several enemies, in fact, based on Thomson’s comments.
“So while we’re on the subject of our new Science Director, enlighten me as to why the bloody woman is so important, Thomson. The Prime Minister intimated that you have information that will no doubt be of relevance to my attempts at controlling what rapidly seems to be turning into a bear-garden.”
“She has access to technology that we need, sir.”
Leek raised one eyebrow enquiringly.
“She has technology that can control the anomalies.”
“So why haven’t you just pulled her fingernails out, or used enhanced interrogation techniques, as you prefer to call them?”
“We tried,” said Thomson ruefully. “She disappeared and I lost four men.”
“How very careless of you. And it’s now my job to succeed where Section 42 failed? I’m honoured, Thomson.” A sudden thought struck Leek and his eyes narrowed. “She’s using future technology.” It was a statement, not a question, and he wasn’t surprised when Thomson nodded in reply. “The creatures that attacked the ARC were being controlled by a technology that no one here had ever seen before. Should I be putting two and two together and making five?”
Thomson nodded again.
“I don’t appreciate being hung out to dry, Captain. I was aware of the fact that the people pulling your strings wanted more say in how this project was run, but I wasn’t expecting to find myself on the expendable list. It was meant to be a simple case of demonstrating that the ARC needed more military resources. Instead it turned into a minor war.”
“Her tendency towards a scorched earth policy is the main reason for keeping Mrs Cutter out of the top job, sir. She does seem somewhat… unconcerned about the fate of others, to put it mildly.”
“Yes, she does, doesn’t she?” said Leek thoughtfully. “And speaking of scorched earth policies…” He drew in a steadying breath. “The PM has decreed that Captain Ryan must pay the price for the deaths at the school.”
“And the sabotage?”
“That as well, if it seems expedient. But I expect your investigations to continue, Thomson.”
The captain nodded, his expression as thoughtful as Leek’s. “What of Sir James?”
“The PM fully expects him to be cleared of any complicity in recent events, but for the moment, Sir James will remain in custody. I will break the news about Ryan to him personally. I presume I can leave the arrangements in your hands?”
Thomson nodded and, to Leek’s surprise, the soldier didn’t look any happier about it than he did.
* * * * *
The two guards outside Lester’s private quarters saluted respectfully. Leek drew in a deep breath and knocked twice.
A moment later a bored-sounding voice called, “Enter!”
Sir James Lester was dressed as immaculately as ever and, from his appearance, might simply have been taking a well-earned break, but Leek had worked with the man for long enough to recognise the signs of strain.
Out of long habit, Leek smiled ingratiatingly. “Good morning, Sir James, I hope you slept well?”
Lester rolled his eyes and made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Get on with it, Oliver.”
“As it’s a nice day, I thought you might appreciate a stroll in the grounds.”
Lester’s eyes narrowed and he nodded. With Lyle following at a discreet distance they made their way out of the ARC and headed out across the grass to the shores of the large, crescent-shaped lake in the extensive grounds. At least out there Leek could be reasonably sure their conversation wouldn’t be over-heard or recorded. The pale winter sun sparkled on the surface of the water, and a chill wind raised small waves and blew through the reeds by the shore. Leek buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket and wished he’d picked up a coat before leaving the building.
“I spoke to the PM this morning,” he said, without further preamble.
“How nice for you,” Lester commented, pulling up a tall reed stalk as they passed and twisting it between his fingers.
“The PM says that when the dust settles he’ll find you another job. He told me to tell you that your pension won’t be affected.”
“Very generous of him.” Lester’s voice was glacial with scorn. “And the bad news?”
“Ryan has to die.”
The stalk of grass snapped in Lester’s hands. “He’s innocent.”
“I know that, you know that, Thomson knows that, even the bloody PM knows that. But the Saudis want blood and the PM needs a scapegoat.”
“So Ryan gets flogged to death and the rest of us live happily ever after?”
“Chance would be a fine thing,” Leek muttered. He met Lester’s eyes and almost recoiled from the depth of emotion he encountered. If looks could have killed, Lyle would have been zipping him into a body bag. “I’m sorry, James, I really am.”
In the long silence that followed, Leek was all too aware of the residual pain left behind by his encounter with his own bodyguard the previous night. Lester’s gaze seemed intent on stripping away every protective layer he’d built up around himself and he felt heat rising in his cheeks.
“I do believe you are, Oliver,” Lester said eventually, allowing the broken stalk to fall from his fingers. “Does Ryan know?”
Leek shook his head. “I’m told Thomson will make the arrangements.” Leek had worked in the darker side of government for long enough to know what those arrangements would consist of.
A call would be made to a government approved executioner. A time would be agreed, sooner rather than later, and then someone would arrive at the ARC to flog Ryan to death. Blood tests would be administered by the executioner – a fully qualified medical practitioner – to ensure that no painkillers, or other drugs, had been given to the condemned man and the whole business would be recorded for posterity, in glorious Technicolor, no doubt with wrap-around sound for added effect.
Leek had witnessed several such executions in his time in the Prison Service and one look at the horror that had settled on Lester’s aquiline features told him that his former boss was no stranger to such things, either. It was a vile way to die. He just hoped that the military would have some means of looking after their own, but in a high-profile case like this he had to accept that it was probably a vain hope. Especially when the footage would be scrutinised in high places.
“Am I right in presuming that I am to be denied the opportunity of conducting an appeal?”
Leek nodded. “The PM has ordered you to be kept incommunicado until after…” he groped for the right words and ending up simply leaving the sentence unfinished.
“I want to break it to him myself.” Lester’s eyes held open challenge and Leek was reminded forcibly that a man like Lester was never entirely out of the game. Unless he wanted to make an even more dangerous enemy than Helen Cutter might prove to be, this was one request he couldn’t refuse.
“If Ryan is well enough, I’ll have him brought to your rooms. If he isn’t, I’ll arrange for you to have time alone in the infirmary.”
“Thank you.” For once, Lester’s voice was devoid of irony or sarcasm. He sounded as tired as Leek felt.
The silence that followed was broken only by a sudden flurry in the lake. A mallard flapped away noisily, leaving behind a several tail feathers that fluttered on the breeze before drifting down to settle down on the water.
“Pike,” Lester remarked. “You really need to get Norman to do something about the wretched things or we won’t have any ducks left, and you know the soldiers like throwing crusts at them on their tea breaks.”
“He’ll probably lob in a hand grenade. Subtlety isn’t one of his strong points.”
“Speaking of subtlety, I presume you’ll have the good sense not to turn your back on Mrs Cutter?” Lester remarked, continuing their walk around the lakeside.
“She’s a poisonous bitch, isn’t she?” Leek said, falling into step beside him. “Her ex-husband thinks so, too. Apparently he caught her with her hand in Hart’s trousers. Came to blows, according to Thomson.”
Lester rolled his eyes. “The man needs to start thinking with his head, not his fists. Correction, you need a man who will use his head, not his fists, and this Professor Nick Cutter isn’t that man. He’s out of his depth, and it shows. Talk to Annie Morris, Leek. I brought her onto the project with the express intention of giving Cutter his dearest wish. You need to send him home, and you need to send him home quickly. He’s a loose cannon, and his ex-wife is more than capable of priming and firing him. And if she does, God knows who’ll get hit next. You need our Cutter back. He’s an obnoxious bastard, but he’ll have her measure, you can be sure of that. He was quick enough to divorce her when her antics started to threaten his career. And when he does use his fists, the difference is that he carries on thinking. This one doesn’t.”
Leek came to a halt for a moment and drew in a long breath as his world slowly settled back on a slightly different axis. “You really believe him?”
Lester half-turned and snorted, “Of course I believe him! We’re dealing with rips in time and dinosaurs for a living, Leek, what’s so hard to get to grips with about parallel universes, or whatever the hell it is we’re dealing with?”
“But Cutter claimed that something they’d done had changed the past.” Or was it the future? Leek had never been entirely sure and, to be honest, he hasn’t paid that much attention, dismissing Cutter’s claims as the product of one trip too many through the anomalies.
“They stepped on a butterfly in the Permian and a woman called Claudia Brown ceased to exist and was replaced by Jenny Lewis? A little too selective, don’t you think? Oh, and as a by product, the entire System of Indenture popped up overnight. No matter how much it might seem like it, this isn’t actually some sort of low-budget science fiction series. Annie and Temple have been conducting their own investigations and it looks very much like they haven’t been wasting the taxpayers’ hard-earned money for once. Talk to her, Leek, and do it quickly.”
And, feeling more out of his depth than ever, Leek trailed after Lester, a hundred questions jostling for position in his brain, as he wished – not for the first time – that he had even half of the other man’s composure.
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Date: 2010-10-06 11:58 pm (UTC)It's all coming together now, though. *veg*