Chapters (45)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- Prologue
- 2046
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- About the Author
‘But that does not make you God. It does not mean you get to control everything said and done by those you extracted.’ Ben was up, on his feet and stalking hard towards Roland, who backed away in alarm. ‘You do not get to come out here, boast about your life and fucking end the conversation when you see fit. Safa and Harry died. Even if I bring them back . . . which, according to Doctor Watson, is highly unlikely, they will have still died. They died because I suffered a mental breakdown. I suffered that mental breakdown because of your actions and what you did and the way you did it.’
‘Ben please . . .’ Roland stopped with his back to the side of the bunker.
‘You do not pay me. You do not own me. You do not control me. The second you brought us back and explained why is the second you gave us the responsibility to deal with the problem. Can you understand that? You do not run this. This is not yours. This problem is bigger than you . . . the lack of care you have shown is staggering. I suggest, Roland. I really . . . really fucking suggest that from now you focus solely on providing the money and do nothing else that you can fuck up.’ Ben stopped an inch from Roland. Nose to nose. Threat and malice in every word spoken. Roland swallowed.
‘Find someone with a military intelligence background,’ Ben said, his eyes locked on Roland. ‘Find someone who knows what they are doing, because you don’t.’
That conversation ended with Roland rushing off but it left Ben fuelled by an anger inside that would not subside. He missed Harry and Safa. He drank another beer and paced up and down as the sky above him grew dark and the noises of the night grew louder.
He went inside and stared down the corridor. The bunker felt so empty. So lonely, sterile and cold. The blue light from the device was spilling out from the room holding it. He headed down and stared into the room at the shimmering, iridescent square. Roland gets to go home. Roland bends the rules to suit himself. Ben knew, without doubt, that should he go after Roland right then he would see a home of luxury. The lure of wealth is too great for people like that. Roland doesn’t sleep in the bunker. He creams the stock markets and plays God instead while letting the little people do the dirty work for him.