Pulse (A novel)
Pulse: Shadowplay ~ Chapter 1 (3rd Draft)
“Mike?” Bill Cummings calls out through the gap of his door, left ajar. No response.
“Mike!” Louder. Still no response.
“Brannigan! Get your arse in here!” The door glides open, Mike ambles through and into the empty chair.
“Bran…!”
“Yes chief?” Interrupting with a broad grin.
“There you are.” Looking up from his desktop screen. “Reuters informs me that Hilltop just got raided by someone.”
“Hilltop?”
“Kepad’s place.”
“Oh, Link-Dead.”
“That’s the one.”
“Raided?”
“Military.”
“I wonder what he’s been up to now?”
“So do our readers.”
“And?”
“And? And, Reuters are in London with a story! And, we are two miles from Kepad. And, we have nothing!”
“Hm?”
“Well?”
“Well, there’s probably nothing to it and I’ve still got the Council piece to finish.”
“This is not a request, Mike. You should have had this first!”
“Come on Bill, there’s always something going on, at Link-Dead. We won’t get anything and what we do get will be gagged.”
“Mike?” Softly.
“Bill?”
“You will find something printable today; or you’ll be writing copy for classifieds by the morning.”
“But…”
“I will be here when you get back!” Firmly.
“B…”
“Classifieds?”
Mike sighs, stands and turns to leave.
“I can see you, hear you and practically smell you; Max. Did you want something?”
“Uh, what was that, chief?” Faking innocence.
“You’re loitering again. Was it something I can help with?”
“Did someone mention Hilltop?”
“Not to you Max.”
“I know the place well, used to play up there as kids.”
“Where’s my copy for Wednesday’s Village in Bloom feature?”
Max reaches into the room and drops a layout & disc onto Bill’s desk. “Just finished it; Chief.”
“And the WI sale?”
“On the system.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope, all done.” She smiles, sensing some kind of victory.
“Maybe Mike could do with some company, help him find the place?”
Gotcha
“I know how to find Link-Dead without the help of junior, there.”
“Good, then maybe you can take Max along for moral support?”
“Moral s…”
“Clock’s still ticking, Mike.”
“But, Junior?” Completely disregarding Max.
Bastard!
Bill returns to his screen as Max bubbles out of the room. She smiles at Cynthia, on Motor, and whispers through her teeth;
“I got one, a proper job.”
Cyn beams back.
“Well?”
“I’ll tell you when I get back.” She calls over her shoulder; looking back for Mike, then moving on.
Mike stands before his boss and friend, looking a little bewildered.
“Bill?”
“Are you still here?”
“What’s going on Bill? I’ve never needed a chaperone before.”
“Close it behind you, Mike.”
“…” Mike sighs loudly, shrugs and leaves. He swings the door a little harder than necessary. The door slams and heads bob up from cubicles.
Bill looks up for a moment, chuckling to himself, then reaches into his desk for a “large one”.
Mike pulls his polyester blazer from the peg above his desk, shakes it to check for keys and having confirmed this; walks for the door. He looks right and catches a long glance at Max’s bum as she scurries to her corner.
Max dashes over to her desk and loads up. She grabs coat, bag, notebook, phone, camera, stapler and a spare pen. Fully laden she sees the Chief’s door shut. Mike’s jacket is gone and the office door is juddering back into its hole.
He’s gone without us! The bastard!
Max takes a breath and runs. She catches him exiting to the car park.
“You are coming, then?”
Max glares at the back of his fat head.
Twist it off. Do it! Drop everything and twist the bastard’s head, ‘til he snaps.
“What’s the stapler for?” As he ‘bipps’ his company Vectra.
“Stape…Oh!” Looking down at her belongings. “Handy things, staplers. Never know when you might need one.”
“Nice. Or maybe you’re so excited, that you just grabbed everything to hand?”
“Maybe?”
Bastard!
Tossing her things into the pile of fast-food wrappers, on the back seat, Max watches him clamber into a driving position. He fumbles with the keys, long enough for Max to climb in beside him. Then the engine turns and they screech out of the space before her seatbelt clicks home. He then stops suddenly at the street and Max slips forward in the seat.
Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!
He sits looking down at her chest, as she jiggles back upright and clicks the belt in.
“You should stay-in more!” She offers.
“With you?”
“I was actually thinking more along the lines of Secure Accommodation.”
“Lezzer!”
“Yes thanks, if the alternative is you.”
Game, set…
“Junior.”
Bastard.
They drive up Main Street in silence, until;
“You just missed the turn.”
“We’re going to Link-Dead, not the church.”
“Yes, but if you take Chapel Lane, you come round to the back of the house.”
“Nothing has happened up there. We drive to the front and have a look around.”
“We can’t get a story from Sergeant Adams. He can barely tie his own shoes.”
“Assuming he’s managed to get there yet, I’ll tell ‘Eddie’ you said that, when we arrive.”
Shit!
They swing onto Hilltop Lane and spot the two police cars blocking the gates. Max immediately recognises the Astra of Adams, but is a little puzzled by the Range Rover.
“Who’s that?”
“How should I know?”
“Well, with you and Eddie being like that?” Max holds up a pair of twisted fingers.
They stop alongside the Astra, where Eddie is sat on his bonnet; smoking a cigarette.
“Who’s your friend Eddie?”
“Oh, hi Mike.” Looking over towards the pristine young constable, standing to attention, in the gap where the gates should have been.
“Just some young Snot they sent from Carlisle. Said I might need some backup to guard the place.”
“Guard?”
“Yeah, someone broke in and Kepad’s not at home.”
“Kidnapped?” Asks Max as she pulls pad and pen from her bag.
“Nope.”
“How can you be sure?”
“’cos nothing happened here.”
“Be quiet Junior.” “So what did happen, Eddie?”
“Look, he even gets a brand-spanking new Range Rover for his day out.”
“Yes, but what happened to justify him coming?”
“Nothing much. Someone smashes the gates, throws some papers about and leaves again.”
“Kepad?”
“Dunno. No sign of him, but is he ever here?”
“Who did it?”
“Hey Mike! You’re asking them a bit quick and fast?”
“Sorry Eddie. Got work to finish and just need to get back.”
“Alright then.”
“So…, culprit?”
“Quick and clean. Got to be military or paramilitary.” He chuckles briefly. “Like, say, The Westmorland Freedom Fighters?” He laughs and Mike does a fair impression of joining-in.
“Hey Eddie, any idea what the WFF broke the gates with?” Pointing needlessly.
“WFF, I like that.” Smiling. “Wilkins from over Spitelrig Farm says he saw three Landrovers, but then; who round here hasn’t got one?”
“Have you looked at the gates for paint flecks?” Max chips in.
“No, of course not! I’m a lousy cop and I didn’t think of it!” “See they gave you a Snot too, Mike.”
Mike looks over at Max and back to Eddie.
“At least yours keeps quiet. This one never seems to shut up.”
“Small mercies…” Eddie chuckles.
“So, anything interesting to report?”
“Not really, although the Air Force are involved.”
“How so?”
“Dunno, but they’re sending some bodies up from Bomber Command, in High Wycombe.”
“Bomber Command, must be important then?”
“Not my problem, Mike. This might be my patch, but once a ministry gets involved, I end up on traffic duty.”
“How so?”
“MAFF had me guarding gates and directing traffic during Foot & Mouth. The Environment people had me guarding gates and directing traffic when oil got dumped in the Kent.”
“True.” Mike adds, with a hint of sympathy and a shrug.
“And now the RAF has me sat here, instead of nice and cosy in The Bull.”
“Talking of which, will I see you down there later?”
“Love to Mike, but the RAF boys won’t be here ‘til tea, so I’ll catch-up when I escape.”
“Okay Eddie. Speak tonight then.”
“What about his car?” Max tries again.
“I’m sorry Miss, did you want something?”
“Kepad’s car?” “Is it here?”
“Sorry, but that’s classified. And until the RAF boys give the all-clear, everything is.”
Mike guns the engine, completes a hasty three-point turn and calls out through the closing window.
“Later!”
Eddie nods as he pulls another cigarette from the packet and lights it from the embers of the previous one.
“So, are we going round back?”
“Nope.”
“What about the story?”
“You heard Eddie, there is no story.”
“Come on Mike, you know there is.”
Mike reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a hip flask. “Care for a belt?”
“Put it away, I don’t want it.”
“Don’t flatter yourself; I got it out for me.”
“You’re not planning to drink that now?”
“Yes and with Eddie tied up for the next few hours, who’s going to stop me?”
The flask jumps from Mike’s hand, crashes against the drivers-side window and falls to the floor.
“You bitch!” And throws a left, backhand swipe at Max.
Max deflects the blow, pins his left arm against her headrest and reaches under his elbow to touch his nose with a Pepper spray.
“Aargh!” As she twists his wrist.
“Stay on the road and I won’t break it!” She whispers with venom.
He nods his acquiescence.
Snap it. Break it!
“I am not ready to die today and I’m not sure my undies match anyway; so I am going to let go now.”
Mike nods again.
“You will be quiet. You will drive us back to work.”
Mike nods twice.
“Okay.”
Max releases the pressure and loosens her grip. When she sees he is not resisting, she places his hand back on the wheel, passes the canister to her left and squeezes it tightly to help stop herself from shaking.
Grab the wheel and punch him!
