The man is highly trained but even he shows the tiniest of reactions in the safe dead-zone environment of the briefing room. A team of five was a big team in his world. They either worked solo or in pairs, rarely in threes, only in exceptional circumstances would they go for four, and five was unheard of.

‘Five identification packets. Five passports. Five driving licences. Five legends to learn.’ She places five unmarked brown envelopes on the table, pushing them towards him. ‘You are Alpha, you will be Alfie during our communications. You will designate Bravo, Charlie, Delta and Echo. I am the controller. I am Mother for our communications.’

‘This real, then?’ Alpha asks. To generate five legends in such a short space of time that matched each agent took some doing and for her to remain as controller was also exceptional. He’d heard the rumours of course and had been waiting patiently for deployment but he didn’t actually believe it. Time travel was not possible. It was fictional. It did not exist.

‘Who knows,’ she says, still impassive. ‘But it’s too big not to be at the front . . . and we are always at the front.’

He nods. Just once. A dip of the head. This is the top of the game, where every single nuance of body language is analysed to a depth greater than the ability to second-guess, creating in turn a breed of person that simply does not show reaction. It is safe here. It is safe with her, but even so, he has just shown one tiny reaction and he sure as hell will not show another so soon after the first.

‘Budget?’ Alpha asks.

‘None.’

Again he suppresses any urge to show reaction. She watches him, looking for the reaction and seeing the suppression of the reaction. He is good. He is the best they have, apart from her of course.

‘Any methods are sanctioned in advance,’ she says, holding that level of scrutiny of him. ‘You have freedom to operate but we will be at the front. Credit cards are within the packages. There is cash waiting for you downstairs. We do not require receipts.’

Fucking hell. No receipts? This is beyond rare. This is way past exceptional. This is groundbreaking.

‘We do, however, require results either to confirm or negate. Questions?’

He stares, impassive. Cogs turning. ‘No.’

‘Have a safe trip, Alfie.’ Mother smiles, beaming a grin full of warmth and humanity that changes her whole appearance and manner with an instant transition into character.

‘Great.’ He grins back, as happy as she at the trip he is about to go on.

‘Let me know how you get on,’ Mother says as he rises.

‘Will do,’ he says, grinning back, perfectly in character.

‘I want pictures,’ she says, gently chiding him as he heads for the door. ‘And make sure you eat properly, not too much junk food . . . and no hookers . . .’