‘Yeah, I was a lot sexier back then. War does horrible things to people, doesn’t it?’

Ewan glanced at the screen. Halfway done.

‘So,’ he continued, ‘did you call to talk about something, or are you just keeping us here long enough for reinforcements to arrive? In fact, if you knew we were up here, why didn’t you kill us ten minutes ago? You left two rats chewing at your computer wires for ages. I’ve had a great time rummaging through Unsworth’s things.’

‘Because of a little incident we just had at a checkpoint near Vehicle Port Three. Does the name Arnold Salter ring any bells?’

Alex’s eyes widened too. Clearly, Marshall spoke so enthusiastically that his voice could be heard across the room.

‘Twenty minutes ago I received an alert that the vehicle port’s deployment director was seen trying to leave New London. He got as far as the security booth at the electric fence, but was unable to provide any reason for his departure, or even identification. One of the guards called his line manager and Salter tried to speed away. Of course, the armed guards didn’t let him get far.’

Poor guy. The vomiting wonder barely lasted a minute outside New London. Good job he was on their side and not ours.

‘After a little research,’ Marshall finished, ‘it turned out he’d used his keycard to check himself into the Central Research Headquarters, at exactly the same time as he was abandoning his post. It didn’t take a genius.’

Ewan let out a huff, which must have sounded down the phone.

‘Frustrated?’ asked Marshall. ‘Then you’re going to hate this next bit. Because I have to ask… how exactly are you planning on destroying everything related to Atmospheric Metallurgic Excitation in the whole Citadel, fight your way up to Floor B and destroy my computer, all in the space of half an hour?’

Ewan checked his watch. Midnight was nearly three hours away. What the hell was Marshall talking about?

‘Half an hour?’ he asked.

‘Give or take,’ Marshall answered. ‘You thought we would launch at midnight, didn’t you?’

Some heavy object froze inside Ewan, restricting his muscles and paralysing his chest.

‘It’s the kind of thing Grant would do,’ he whispered, unable to hide his nerves.