There were already two people standing over the car.

One was a tall, freckled, man in a long white robe with a garland of greenery in his dark hair. He had a long brown beard that could have beaten the one upstairs in a fight.

The other one was a tanned woman in a lab coat who looked about five foot six until Number Seven approached. As he got closer he realised that she was about four foot eleven with four inch heels and three inches of back-combed purple hair that was surely a wig. Between the wig and the lab coat there was a lot of makeup. It had been applied with great care and skill but it made her look like she'd just stepped off the stage of a Soho drag revue. She was wearing at least two pairs of false eyelashes and such a weight of purple glitter eyeshadow that he was amazed she could get her eyes open.

And she really was holding a small portable cutting torch and eyeing his boot lock. Fortunately she was having trouble getting it to light.

'WOAH'! He shouted. 'I've got the keys right here.'

She stopped and looked up at him with the exact facial expression of a spaniel that's being shouted at for chewing shoes. She pocketed the cutting torch.

'Um. Hi,' she said.

'So... Why do you have a raven in your boot?' said the man in white.

'It was eating a friend of mine. And we're not sure that it's just a raven. Corvids don't usually break into high security hospitals and peck professional assassins to death,' said Seven.

'Nasty,' said the short woman but she was grinning. Seven knew that look. It was the look of a scientist with a new puzzle. She pulled on a pair of latex gloves. 'Right, go for it big boy.'

'What?' said Seven.

'Pop the trunk. Open the boot. Let the imaginary dog see the metaphorical rabbit.'

Seven pressed the remote unlock button and very slowly raised the boot lid. He half expected the raven to explode out at him in a cloud of feathers and rage and go for his eyes with beak and claws. Either that or it would have vanished.

Nothing happened.

There was still a tightly-bound lump in the boot. He prodded it. Nothing continued to happen. Maybe he'd killed it by thrashing the car all the way back to London? He picked up the bundle.

'Who wants the jacket full of killer raven?' he said.

'Give it here,' said the man in the robe. He crouched down by a large travel cage that Seven hadn't noticed before. He put the bundle inside before unrolling it with all the care of a man defusing a bomb. To Seven's relief there was still a dazed-looking raven inside the jacket.

'Is that thing still alive?' said Seven.

'Yeah. Don't worry about it. It's just in a tonic trance,' said the man in white. The raven began to perk up as the door of the cage clicked shut. It eyed them for a moment.

'Ah Fuck,' said the raven.

'Either I'm coming down with PTSD or that bird just spoke,' said Seven.

'Must be a London bird,' said the woman.

'What the hell were you doing out in the country?' said the man in white.

'Whatever it was I claim diplomatic immunity,' said the bird.

'Do me a favour. Take a look at his face,' said the man in white. The bird inspected Seven.

'That uncomfortably full feeling is part of a friend of his. You can come with us for a bit of a chat or I can hand the cage to him.'

The bird considered it for about half a second. 'I'll talk.'

'That's what I thought.'

The short woman put Seven's jacket in a large evidence bag. She got some smaller bags, tweezers and a blindingly bright LED torch and began to scan the boot for anything else that might be in there.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

'Don't worry about the bird, mate,' said the man in white. 'I'll deal with it and send you whatever we get.'

Seven didn't like the idea of relying on a stranger. It must have showed on his face.

'I'm sure you're great at interrogation,' said the man in white, 'but if you try to do this yourself, you will end up having a psychotic break. And if the bird doesn't crack I'll give you a call and you can come intimidate him.' He held out a hand. 'Bernard White, senior druid.'

Seven stared at the hand for a moment before remembering his manners. He tried to remember what his name was supposed to be this week but in all the turmoil the cover was just gone. He was not going to use his damn code name. He toyed with the idea of using the Legend that his enemies knew him by. The name he'd given up his real name for. But these people weren't enemies. 'Call me Number Seven,' he said.

Bernard's eyes widened in surprise. He glanced at the small woman who had already half climbed into the boot of the car in pursuit of evidence. She all but fell out of the boot in haste. She stood up and smoothed down her lab coat. She nudged Bernard with her shoulder.

A momentary look of panic shot across Bernard's face then, 'And this is Cherry Short, Senior Forensic Officer,' he said.

Seven swallowed 3 innuendos and 4 crass jokes about her name that leapt to mind and tried to climb out of his mouth. He managed a smile and extended his hand for her to shake. She held on for just a fraction of a second too long.

'I'm such a fan of your work,' she said.

'Really?' SIS scientists usually hated his work. There were too many explosions and too much wrecked equipment.

She nodded with an alarming level of enthusiasm.

'I really have to be going,' said Seven. 'I'll let you get back to work. I expect you'll contact me with the details.'

'We'll let you know,' said Bernard. 'If you need to ask us anything I'll email you our contact details.'

#

The Boss switched off the office intercom.

Cepha, watching her, said, 'Gideon, why don't you go outside for a smoke.' It was not a suggestion.

Gideon did not argue. He struggled to his feet then limped over to the balcony, closing the French window behind him.

'The last time you came here with an Agent Gideon he was a skinny Scottish man with a shaved head and expensive sunglasses,' said the Boss.

'There are three of them,' said Cepha.

'Isn't that inconvenient?' said the Boss.

'Not really. And while we're on the subject I expected to finally meet your new protege. What's wrong? Worried we'll steal her away with a better wages and a superior canteen?'

'She's a rationalist. She disapproves of your methods.'

'And you were glad of the excuse not to discuss Number Seven in front of her,' said Cepha.

'This is what we've feared isn't it? Someone knows what he is.'

'Possible. Killing the others first is terrible tactics unless the plan is to isolate him. Or perhaps they want to see if you've perfected the process. If you don't know the secret you could think all the Blanks are the same. '

'Maybe we should lock him away?' said the Boss.

'And exactly how angry do you think that would make him?' said Cepha.

'He wouldn't know,' said the Boss.

'He'd know when you let him out. And we would have to let him out eventually,' said Cepha. 'Now is not the time to push the panic button. If there's one thing I've learned it's that's things are almost never exactly what they seem. This could be something else. He's made a lot of enemies and so have you. He could have made someone angry enough to consort with dark forces. Any of them could. Any one of them could be the real target with the others taken out to hide the motive and ensure they won't avenge the target. You know this. You're only wavering because you're feeling guilty.'

'I have no reason to feel guilty,' said the Boss.

'That I know of,' said Cepha, 'and yet you clearly do. I can smell it off you.'

'Don't test your cheap interrogation tactics on me. Take your act to Westminster and try it out there.'

There was a delicate tapping at the window. Agent Gideon waved his extinguished cigarette end at them. Cepha nodded and he came in.

'I've just had a message from Cherry and Bernard in the car park. Number Seven is on his way back up,' he said.

'Already? I thought Cherry might divert him longer. Either he's really shaken or Cherry has finally heeded the rule about keeping her lab coat buttoned up.'

'What are we going to do with him? Should we send him away?' said the Boss.

'Gideon, you're the narrative expert, where's best for him?' said Cepha.

'He might prefer somewhere warm and exotic but Sorrow would be best closer to home. Anywhere on the Celtic fringe would favour her. It really depends if you want to keep things quiet or if you want to make a public point.'

'I want everyone to know what the price of attacking us is,' said the Boss.

'London it is. He knows the city. He'll be able to investigate, which should keep him happier. Sorrow's at home here and if they need to make a run for it Sorrow knows where all the Department buildings are,' said Gideon.

The door buzzed and Seven came in.

'It was a talking raven,' he said.

The silence was so deep that Seven thought he could hear his watch ticking. Eventually the Boss found her voice. 'Have you been drinking, Number Seven?'

'Really?' said Gideon, 'That's a long way from the Tower for one of those.'

'The Druid is taking the raven in for questioning,' said Seven, 'That's a sentence I did not ever expect to hear myself say.'