She nodded at Grint, who drew himself up. ‘Right, people. Usual teams. You all know what to do.’ He appeared to remember Lockland, Parrish and Farrell, who very obviously did not know what to do. ‘Your team leader is already on site so you three are on my team tonight. Get yourselves on board.’

‘Weapons?’ offered Parrish, optimistically.

‘I’m not taking the chance of any of you shooting real officers in the dark.’

‘We had weapons for Henry Plimpton.’

‘You had sonics. The only thing you could damage was each other. Tonight is different. You’ve got your string – not that you’ll need it – now get on board and stay there.’

‘Bastard,’ muttered Parrish.

‘I heard that, Parrish. Consider yourself on report. Any questions, anyone?’

There were none.

‘Assemble in the Pod Bay, everyone. ETD five minutes.’

Grint’s team – Team 235 – were already on board. They stared in silence at the newcomers and no one moved up to make room.

It’s only a few weeks since we did our basic training with these people, thought Jane, trying to avoid their hostile stares. We were all together once. And now we’re just . . . nothing.

Depression settled on her even more heavily. The only thing keeping her here, she realised with a sudden flash of insight, was that she had nowhere else to go. Anyone who had a normal, happy home life to return to would surely be off like a shot. Her stupid dream of becoming someone to be reckoned with, respected and admired by her colleagues, had shrivelled under Time Police indifference. More than ever she was aware of her inadequacy. She looked around. Everyone stood in their place – ready, waiting, eager, confident. Part of their team. Part of a greater whole. Confident in the identity of themselves and the organisation they worked for. Why hadn’t that happened to her? She’d done the same training as everyone else. She wore the same clothes as everyone else. Why wasn’t she one of them? Why wouldn’t they open their ranks and let her in?

She felt tears prick behind her eyes and knew, instinctively, that if she gave way now, she’d be outside the front door first thing tomorrow morning, discharge papers in one hand, carrier bag of possessions in the other. If you want something you fight for it. If you want it badly enough. So what did she want?

Not to be on the other side of the door with her discharge papers in one hand and a carrier bag in the other was the very firm answer to that question.

Jane sighed, lifted her chin and took up her traditional position at the back.

Grint’s team were checking over their equipment. They moved quickly, professionally and with precision. They might all have started out together but the gap between the two teams widened every day.