Harry tuts and smiles at her. Taking the jibe in good humour. The clothes are basic and, as requested by Ben, they’re muted plain colours. Normal jeans, normal by any standard in the post-war western world. A black T-shirt for Ben, dark blue for Safa and dark grey for Harry. Three pairs of plain brown boots complete the ensembles. Ben takes the other two in and looks down at himself. They look like plain clothes police officers. Boots, jeans and almost matching T-shirts, but it’ll do for now. He’s surprised Safa hasn’t picked up on their almost uniform appearance, but then she was from a Close Protection uniformed role so figures maybe she didn’t have a background in covert work. Same with Harry really. He must have done stuff behind enemy lines before and he already said he was dressed as a civilian in Norway. Maybe they had people choose the clothes for them. That makes sense.

‘Ready?’ Safa asks, then tuts. ‘Harry, pull your T-shirt out.’

‘Why?’

‘No one tucks their T-shirt into their jeans.’

‘Why?’ he asks, but pulls the hem out anyway. Ben was right. Harry has worked behind enemy lines but Ben was also right in that there were people to choose the right clothing for them. Experts and locals from those areas they were working in.

With Safa once more in the lead they head through the bunker to find Malcolm waiting outside the room holding the device.

‘You coming with us?’ Safa asks bluntly, seeing him wearing the same style jeans and T-shirt.

‘Gonna wait by the portal,’ he says, dropping eye contact from her.

‘Fucking hell,’ she says, walking into the room to see Roland and Konrad in jeans and T-shirts. ‘So we’re all going then?’

Roland stiffens at the rebuke in her voice, looking as uncomfortable as Harry in denim and a casual top. ‘Malcolm will wait by the device. Konrad will stay this side but is ready to come through should the need arise. I, of course, am coming to ensure we minimise our contact with the timeline. When we do go through we will not talk to anyone or engage in—’

‘You said that before,’ Safa says, still blunt and direct. ‘Get on with it.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Ben, Harry, don’t talk to anyone. Don’t do anything. Got it?’

‘Got it,’ Ben says.

‘Roger,’ Harry says.

‘Sorted,’ Safa says, nodding at Roland. ‘We going then?’

The blue light comes to life as Konrad operates the tablet. The room instantly bathed in the gorgeous blue, shimmering, iridescent shade that absorbs Safa, Harry and Ben again. Roland goes first, simply walking up to the light and leaning forward to look through. He pauses, holding position for a few seconds before pulling back.