RING THE CHANGE
By Tanya Allan
Ring the Change
Copyright © 2007 Tanya J Allan
Revised 2012
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – for example, electronic, photocopy, recording – without the prior written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotation in printed reviews.
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of real historical figures only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone
My thanks to my patient and long-suffering editor – Tom Pershey
Also by Tanya Allan on Amazon Kindle:
A FAIRY’S TALE
AMBER ALERT
BEHIND THE ENEMY
EMMA
EVERY LITTLE GIRL’S DREAM
FLIGHT OR FIGHT
FORTUNE’S SOLDIER
GRUESOME TUESDAY
IN PLAIN SIGHT
MARINE 1
MODERN MASQUERADE
MONIQUE
QUEEN OF HEARTS
RING THE CHANGE
SHIT HAPPENS, SO DO MIRACLES
TANGO GOLF: COP WITH A DIFFERENCE
THE CANDY CANE CLUB
THE HARD WAY
THE OTHER SIDE OF DREAMS
THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS A SUPER HERO
THE SUMMER JOB & OTHER STORIES
TO FIGHT FOR A DREAM
TWISTED DREAMS
WEIRD WEDNESDAY
WHEN FORTUNE SMILES
WHISPERS IN THE MIND
Prologue.
The cold wind swept the icy rain along the Thames embankment, making those few, brave pedestrians regret their decisions to walk rather than take a warmer, more protected form of transport.
One such man pulled his coat collar tighter and then thrust his hands deeper into his pockets in the vain hope they’d be warmer there. He walked faster, conscious that he was late. As he reached the prearranged point, his heart sank, for no one was there. He walked to the railings and looked across the grey water towards the South Bank.
“Damn it!” he muttered, feeling the first tendrils of fear and not a little despair. It was not in his field of experience to be so far out on a limb. His life had consisted of a series of secure environments, first school, then university and finally, and latterly, as a research scientist within the Ministry of Defence. Never before had he stepped quite so far outside his box, and never before had he felt quite so insecure and vulnerable.
“You’re late!” said a voice.
The man turned, revealing his fleshy, pale face against the dreary background. He frowned, as he couldn’t see the owner of the voice. Unconsciously, he pushed his spectacles back against his face with his index finger in what was an obviously familiar action.
“Here, professor, and hurry, as it’s bloody cold,” the voice spoke English with a definite foreign accent.
There was a door in the plain drab wall of granite, the sort of door that no one sees, because no one is ever noticed using it. It actually gave access to Thames Water officials in times of flooding, but the man called the professor wasn’t aware of that scintillating fact. He couldn’t see the speaker, but hurried over and found the door held open for him.
Grateful to be out of the wind and rain, he nodded at the man by the door. This man was dressed from head to foot in black, not the respectable dark suit of the good executives of the City of London, but the utilitarian black fatigues of the Special Forces, police firearms teams or various paramilitary organisations. He was also not the person he had come to see.
The man, who was stocky with a dark complexion, nodded his head at the stairwell, saying nothing. His meaning was clear, so the professor went down the flight of concrete stairs, reluctant to grasp the cold metal rail. A single light bulb barely illuminated the way, but he managed to reach the bottom without mishap. At the foot of the steps, another man stood in the shadows.
“You’re late, professor.”
“I know, I’m sorry, but the traffic was awful.”
“Well?”
The professor handed over a single sheet of paper, folded. The other man stared at him, opening the paper without looking at it, only when it was fully open did he look down.
He read it for a few minutes.
“It does all this?” he asked, looking up.
“Yes, it will.”
“Will? You mean it doesn’t yet?”
“We have achieved the major effects, but need to concentrate on miniaturising the power source.”
“So, you are telling me the device works, but at the moment the power source is not portable?”
“The device works, I have had to modify the working prototype so it appears less developed than it really is. Fortunately, as we’ve had problems with the delivery of a suitable source, my colleagues haven’t yet noticed my modification. But they aren’t fools, so I do not anticipate deceiving them for much longer. At present, it will operate in a vehicle, making a Challenger tank or an armoured personnel carrier impregnable, but we are still working on a device that will be suitable for a single individual.”
“This is hardly acceptable.”
“Look, the bloody government is skimping on every penny, so I’m putting up with cheap and shoddy equipment. At the price I’m asking, you’ll have a working unit within six months.”
“The agreement was a working unit on delivery, with blueprints ready for production.”
“The agreement was also for August, so I’m giving you the option early, if I can have the facilities and equipment, you’ll have the unit available for production by July at the latest.”
The man stepped out of the shadows. His immaculate suit with crisp shirt and tie was a little out of place with his swarthy-featured face. He was of Middle-eastern appearance, but his accent would place him happily at Oxford or Cambridge.
“I don’t like changes, they make me uneasy.”
“Believe me, it has to be now.” The professor was sweating, despite the cold.
“Why so urgent?”
“There’s another problem.”
The man said nothing, merely raised an eyebrow.
“I think the project may be compromised.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know?”
“We caught someone trying to sneak in. It could have been an enemy power, or it could have been our own people.”
“Go on.”
“He was unidentifiable, so we’ve arranged his disappearance.”
The darker man appeared lost in thought.
“Did he discover anything?”
“No, he never gained entry.”
“They may be more fortunate next time. You told me the security is impenetrable.”
“It is. The security chief is excellent, and they haven’t skimped on the security hardware.”
“Is the chief one of yours?”
“He is. He has an expensive habit.”
“When did this happen?”
“A few days ago, that’s why I contacted you.”
The man glared at the professor for a moment, as if he was assessing the man.