Sorrow looked up at the Morrigan, deep in whispered conversation with Number Seven. She heard Number Four sigh deeply. The shorter woman sounded exasperated and bone tired and for a moment Sorrow felt a stab of empathy. Then she remembered the crime scene photographs and the decapitated young man found with Number One and the empathy withered like early spring flowers in a late frost.

'Oh for crying out loud,' said Number Four, 'You’d think she’d know better.'

'At her age.' It wouldn’t hurt to let Number Four think they had some kind of bond.

'Can’t she see through it?' said Four.

'Probably. He’s better looking without it.'

'No? Really?' Four sounded incredulous and a tiny bit frustrated.

'Still not quite as pretty as Six but not far off. Whoever recruits the blanks knows what they’re about.' It was just a pity no-one was looking out for their mental health.

The Morrigan’s voice, harsh now that she expected their attention, cut the air between them before Number Four could say anything else. 'I keep forgetting that you two haven’t been properly introduced. Sorrow, meet Strife.'

'Cute name,' said Sorrow. 'Very cute.'

'Strife has set herself in opposition to the Blanks of the British Secret Intelligence Service. She intends to kill this one in particular,' she indicated Number Seven with a flourish. 'Sorrow has given her word that she will defend him. If Sorrow loses or yields then he dies. If Strife loses or yields then I intend to name him as my champion and my favourite.'

'You’re really going to defend him?' said Four. 'He’s not worth it. He’s just a penis with a man attached.'

'He speaks well of you,' said Sorrow.

'Ha!'

'No, really. He was bereft when you disappeared. He had to go punch some bankers.'

Number Four looked down. 'I have my reasons.'

'How many of your colleagues were wounded while watching your back? Seven can’t be the only one walking around with bullet holes with your number on them?'

'I never asked them to,' said Four.

'I never asked my Mum to risk her life giving birth. But she did and I’m alive and she’s not. There are some debts that exist whether you like them or not.'

'Did you come all this way to talk me to death?' said Strife.

'Nah,' said Sorrow. 'I came to stab you in the face. You’ve got it coming. You’ve humiliated my friend, killed your own colleagues, murdered and dismembered an innocent 19-year-old boy and tried to frame me for all of it. Or you could back down.'

'What?' said Four.

Before Sorrow could answer an impassioned shout of 'Dude! Nineteen?' in a London accent drifted over from the knot of people watching.

It was followed by the faint sound of a dead man saying 'The club was dark. He looked older.'

'You hear that?' Sorrow tried to keep the rage out of her voice.'Even the walking corpse has a better justification than you. Yield.'

'Why would I do that?'

'Because whether you kill me or I kill you it’s still a waste. I’ve got plenty of reasons to kill you but you’ve got none for killing me.'

'You’re standing between me and him. That’s reason enough.' Four glared up at Seven, still sitting in the Morrigan’s lap

'You’re getting into a cat fight over a boy? I thought you only looked twelve.' Sorrow leaned closer to Four, mindful that Five and Six might overhear. 'You know what he is. You can’t believe that killing him is a good idea.'

'He’s not even real,' hissed Four.

'And what do you think happens if you kill him?' Sorrow was wondering that herself. 'What would you unleash? Which one would die, man or suit? And how do you know which one is responsible? Are you killing an innocent man because of the sins of his fucking tailor? Just yield.'

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Sorrow moved even closer to Four, standing over her, looking into her eyes. 'Please just yield. You can’t go back to SIS but you could join me in the Department. Or stay here if you’ve had enough of government work. Nobody else has to die.' She put a hand on Four’s shoulder. 'Please.'

#

Alex stared at the two men on the security monitor. They lay motionless in their beds in the secure medical vault behind a metre of reinforced concrete wall and a steel door three inches thick.

She was uncomfortably aware of the ticking clock. Not a real timepiece but a metaphorical countdown to the moment when all their plans fell apart. It was so hard to concentrate on anything knowing that a finite but unknown number of seconds remained before the irrevocable death of Number Five. She didn’t know him, she had no connection to him, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t care what happened to him.

Behind her Dr Hung was updating Cepha and Gideon on Number Five’s prognosis. He was taking a very roundabout route to say very little, and all of it bad.

'So you’re saying his condition is deteriorating?' said Cepha, sounding unsure.

'And that you can’t stabilise him?' said Gideon. He sounded offended that he had to ask.

'Yes. That is what I’ve been saying,' said Dr Hung and Alex could hear the tension in his voice. A literal tension in the muscles of his neck and face that was half strangling the words.

'Yuen,' said Cepha, 'this isn’t your fault. No one is blaming you.

'I’m blaming me,' said Dr Hung 'I refuse to be defeated by… by metaphysics.'

'It’s a fine sentiment,' Alex turned to face her colleagues, 'but everyone is defeated by metaphysics in the end.'

Cepha’s phone rang, saving Dr Hung from the rest of the conversation.

Cepha smiled at the phone screen and answered it with the words, 'Cutty, you’re on speaker with Gideon, Alex and Dr Hung.'

'Oh, right,' came Cutty’s voice from the phone. Was that a note of panic in her voice? Nervousness at speaking to such an august crowd?

'Are you sure you want everyone to hear this?' said Cutty after a pause because no amount of panic would stop her from second guessing her superiors.

'I personally vouch for everyone in this room,' said Cepha, 'You have it on my authority that they are cleared for the information.'

'I said you were right but now I can prove it,' said Cutty and Cepha’s smile broadened. 'Smith is hiding something, it was in the files and she did try something clever to hide it. I’ve sent all the relevant files to you but it’s going to take some explanation to make sense of them.'

'Don’t keep us in suspense,' said Cepha.

'Operation Bombastic Codename. I know, it sounds more like one of ours than one of theirs. A particularly bad example of the classic SIS Cock up. Number Seven took some American Intel at face value and passed it on to Smith who didn’t check it. That led to all seven Blanks assaulting an insurgent base that turned out to be full of families.'

'That sounds bad but…' Gideon started.

'A lot of people burned to death and some of them were children. Number Five had some kind of mental break and murdered the sole survivor.'

'And the Blanks covered it up?' said Alex.

'No,' said Cutty. 'They destroyed all the evidence on the ground but each one of them individually reported it to Smith. Each one took full responsibility for their own failings. Even Five confessed to the murder. But none of those details are in the operation file. The reports were attached to other files and if you hadn’t read the operation file you wouldn’t know what the reports were talking about.'

'So Smith covered it up?' said Cepha, 'Chose not to discipline Number Five and the injustice drove one of the Blanks to turn on the others?'

'Worse,' said Cutty and for once Alex could hear the anger in her voice. Cutty was often angry but Alex usually only knew because people told her. 'She’s at least as responsible for the murder as Five is. And this is the bit that isn’t in the files she sent over. I had to find this in our files. When Number Five was recruited by SIS he underwent a psychiatric evaluation just like all the recruits. We get copies of the evaluation files but they’re under the recruit’s original name. Fortunately SIS’s public school bias means that they don’t recruit many prospective Blanks from British Asian, South London, working class backgrounds.'

'How many exactly?' said Cepha.

'Currently just the one,' said Cutty. 'Number Five was diagnosed with previously untreated PTSD dating back to the arson attack that killed his family. He was not cleared for promotion to Blank without treatment and I can’t find any evidence that he was treated.'

'You think that he was acting under the influence of his previous trauma?' said Cepha.

'Don’t you? And if not then he’s getting away with murder because Smith doesn’t want anyone finding out that she’s been ignoring the evaluations. Either way she’s complicit. And if that’s what she’s hiding about him then what else is she hiding about the others.'

Alex felt a sudden coldness in the pit of her stomach. 'Cutty, what did Number Four put in her report about her conversation with Smith?' Alex hoped she was wrong.

'Um… very little actually. There’s no explanation of why she didn’t pursue the issue farther and she appears to have been the angriest. One and Three both suggested that she be forced to take some leave. They thought she wouldn’t be able to put aside her feelings and work effectively with Five,' said Cutty.

'What are you thinking,' said Cepha.

'I’m thinking that Smith knows about the Ravens because we told her,' said Alex.

'And she placated Four by telling her how to become one?' said Cutty.

'It does cover the facts,' Cepha said slowly, as if weighing and measuring each word.

'But she accused Sorrow,' said Gideon. 'Does that mean she was in on the whole thing or was she just covering her arse?'

'Does it matter?' said Cutty. 'Surely we’re not going to stand for either?' She sounded hopeful, almost pleading. Alex could sympathise. Cutty was a woman of principle and she wanted to believe that the Department was run by people like her. But she was also old enough not to have much faith in the principles of anyone with any power.

'Of course we’re not going to stand for it,' said Cepha.