Number Seven raced after Cherry and Sorrow and caught up with them by the lift. Sorrow frowned and Seven sensed an unasked question behind her furrowed brow but she said nothing as the lift descended to the floor marked Mass Storage.

The door opened on to a room roughly the width of an aircraft hanger. It was packed with mobile archive shelving units as far as the eye could see. Each unit was a tall metal bookcase with a crank on the end that moved the unit along rails on the floor to open up a path between them.

Cherry set off at a brisk walking pace through a gap in the wall of selves. She led them on a route that twisted and turned and double backed apparently at random, stopping occasionally to crank open a new path.

'What is she doing?' said Seven. He intended it for Sorrow’s ears but Cherry heard him too.

'This is the library short cut system,' she said as she cranked open another pathway. 'One of our greatest Dramaturges discovered that large collections of books can warp the space that they’re held in. Enough books in one place and it punches a hole in spacetime. By manipulating the books we can link the holes to form corridors from one accumulation of books to another. We used the discovery to create a network that links every public library in the British Isles. It’s handy for commuting. I live in Brighton. Cutty lives in Aberdeen. We both commute daily.'

'We’re going to a public library?'

'No. There’s a reason that the safe houses are packed with books,' said Sorrow.

'Here we are,' said Cherry before Seven had a chance to ask further questions.

They had reached a very different area of the archive. The ceiling was lower and the shelves were wooden and not on tracks. Ahead of them was a wall of bookshelves surrounding a small door. It looked like a traditional four panel wooden door but a little shorter.

Cherry opened the door and Seven felt a rush of slightly warmer, slightly dustier air hit him in the face.

'Difference in air pressure?' he said.

'Yeah, that’s how I could tell that Cherry was imminent,' said Sorrow.

'So that’s why the boys all had their clothes on,' said Cherry.

'The SAS does not encourage naked shenanigans while on a protection detail,' said Sorrow.

'Why must my smut books lie to me?' said Cherry.

Beyond the door was a small, dark, book-lined room with a low ceiling. Seven had to duck under the low hanging bulb in order to follow Cherry and Sorrow out of the door on the other side of the room.

They emerged into the kitchen of the Alpha Safe House. Sergeant Dean was sitting at the breakfast table. Frazer, his second in command, was standing at the window. They were both turned towards the little door with their L119A1 CQB Carbines raised.

In that moment of terrible stillness Seven could feel his hand trying to reach for his own gun. That was the kind of instinct to get a man killed. You do not pull a gun on the SAS and expect to get away with it.

Sorrow, blocking the line of fire with her body, looked completely relaxed. She had her head tilted to one side in a gesture that was at most mildly quizzical.

Cherry was shaking. She clearly wasn’t used to having guns pointed at her and twice in one day was a lot for anyone. Seven could see her fighting the urge to turn and run. He put his gun hand on her shoulder. Hopefully that would steady her and reduce the chance of the hand reaching for his gun without permission.

'I see you brought the tart back then,' said Sergeant Dean.

'And Cherry,' said Sorrow.

There was the barely audible click of the safety catches re-engaging and the guns were no longer pointed their way. Cherry spun round and hugged Seven, shaking even more now.

Sergeant Dean looked sheepishly at Cherry, quivering in Seven’s arms. 'We’re going to need some hot sweet tea,' he said.

Seven could hear someone round the corner, in the kitchen proper, pouring and stirring.

'The pot might be a bit stewed but if I add any more sugar to the cup you’d be able to stand a spoon up so I don’t think it’s going to affect the taste much.' Jude strolled into view, looking even more nonchalant than usual and proffering a large mug. 'Cherry, I’m going to need you to let go of the nice spy otherwise we’ll have to start filling in harassment forms.'

Cherry let go of Seven and turned around slowly. She took the mug of tea in both shaking hands and allowed Jude to lead her to the breakfast table.

'So nobody warned you that we were coming then?' said Sorrow.

'Well,' said Sergeant Dean, 'We were hoping you’d be back but nobody told us you were on your way.'

'We have a plan,' said Sorrow, 'But it relies on Jude giving us a lift to a ford. Or at least to within walking distance of one.'

'Are you going to be okay with that?' said Seven, eyes on Jude, trying to read the man’s expression but unable to see beyond his performance of compassion towards Cherry.

'No problem,' said Jude, barely looking up.

'You’re sure?' said Seven, 'Not worried that Sorrow might be the killer?'

'Everyone is sure that Sorrow’s not the killer except for the fucking spies… Present company excepted,' said Jude, still avoiding Seven’s gaze.

'Don’t worry about it,' said Seven, 'I’ve always enjoyed fucking spies.'

From the breakfast table came the sound of Cherry choking on her tea.

Jude’s pocket made a chirping noise. He pulled out his yPhone and squinted at it. 'It’s from Gideon. A list of fords in the UK. Your plan must be sanctioned from on high then.'

Sorrow put a hand on Jude’s shoulder. 'Listen, about Number Four,' she said. 'We think she’s a Raven, like me. The feathers in the bed came from her. We think she’s the killer.'

Jude looked down for a moment. His shoulders hunched and Seven saw his hands clench. Seven recognised the signs. The stab of rage hijacked the man’s body but he got it under control. Seven watched him force himself to relax. When his head came back up his face was serene.

'Makes sense,' said Jude, his voice admirably calm. 'And you want to go to a ford? Are you planning to go to Avalon?'

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

'That’s where we think she is,' said Sorrow.

'Good. You can take me in with you,' said Jude.

'I’m not sure that’s a good idea,' said Sorrow.

'If there’s one thing I know about spies it’s that you can’t trust them,' said Jude. 'They cheat. It’s in the job description. You need someone to watch your back and it can’t be him because I guarantee that she has plans for him.'

'He’s right,' said Seven. 'I taught her everything. She knows me too well. And it’s not just her. The Morrigan will have plans for me too.'

Sergeant Dean took a sharp breath in through his teeth like the sound of a car mechanic working out exactly how much to charge the owner of a vintage Bentley. 'Yeah,' said Dean, drawing the word out. 'You are definitely her type. Try not to end up with your intestines wrapped around anything.'

Jude’s phone chirped in his hand. He looked down at it. 'Something, somewhere is going down. Message from Cepha. I’ve got 10 minutes to get the two of you out of here and if anyone asks Sorrow guilted me into it.'

Sergeant Dean’s trouser pocket made a similar sound and he consulted his own phone. 'Apparently me and the boys have been overcome by your superior combat skills. It says here that we were blind-sided by an attack coming through the shortcut system.'

Cherry was already looking at her phone when it made the now familiar noise. 'I have been overcome by Officer Dee’s manly charms. If anyone asks, it only took me 20 minutes to recover my senses and untie the boys.'

'How realistic do you want to go?' said Seven. 'I can deliver a selection of black eyes and find something comfortable to tie you all up with.'

'Nah,' said Sergeant Dean, 'This is just for plausible deniability. No one is ever going to believe that we didn’t collude. They just want something sort of convincing to put in the reports.'

'This isn’t even slightly convincing. Who wrote this bullshit?' said Sorrow.

'It’s straight from Cepha,' said Jude, turning his screen to show Sorrow.

Sorrow shrugged, 'Definitely above my pay grade,' she said and headed for the study. 'I’m going to get my stuff from the bedroom. Be ready to leave in two minutes.'

'Wow,' said Cherry, scrolling through the messages. It was impressive the level of disapproval she could get into one short word. 'Cepha is really pissed off at your Boss.'

'What makes you say that?' said Seven.

'This is transparent nonsense,' said Cherry. 'You probably could charm me into taking you here, and if the guys didn’t know about the shortcut then Sorrow probably could get the drop on them…'

Sergeant Dean interrupted her, 'But we do know. The Department would never keep a protection team in the dark about an entrance to the building. And even if she did get the drop on us she’d still get shot to shit. It wouldn’t slow her down much but it would be noisy.'

'But none of that matters,' said Jude as he fetched his sword cane, 'because no amount of guilt would make me do something against my orders.'

'Anyone who knows Jude knows that,' said Cherry. 'That’s the only reason Cepha puts up with him acting like he’s the king of Insubordination Mountain.'

'How would my Boss know that,' said Seven but he was already thinking about how she’d reacted to Jude’s name.

'Because she’s known me for years. Since…' Jude stopped talking and looked from Cherry, to Sergeant Dean to Corporal Frazer. He looked back to Seven. 'A private word.'

Seven followed Jude out through the French doors and into the garden.

'What?' said Seven.

'Has someone told you about the suit?'

'Cutty. She didn’t tell me you knew.' Seven, tried to conceal his irritation.

'About half the Department knows about the Blanks, most of them have worked out that there’s something weird with at least one of you. At least a hundred people know the truth,' said Jude.

'Do you people even know what Secret means?' said Seven.

'The Department leaks less than SIS,' said Jude. 'Mainly because none of us can tell what’s a real secret and what’s a wind up. Nobody is going to say anything about it. It’s patently nuts.'

'Like you being part reptile,' said Seven.

'Exactly like me being part reptile. You’ve got no idea to what extent that’s true, or what it means, but you know if you start telling people you’ll end up wearing one of those jackets that does up at the back. Look, it's clear that you don’t remember everything yet. If you did, you'd know how your Boss knows me.' There was something accusatory in Jude’s voice, something familiar. The words stung like a slap to the cheek.

'Obviously I don’t remember everything my predecessors did. Possibly I don’t remember everything I’ve done. Just tell me.'

'She’s a retired Blank,' said Jude.

That made sense. Of course the boss was an ex Blank. Who else could be trusted to take charge of them? But it didn’t explain how she knew Jude.

'So?' said Seven.

'She was Number Four. Until she aged out,' said Jude.

Again that made sense. She was tiny, just like most of the Number Fours had been. It was easier to pass as a teen or a child if you were the size of a child. Seven tried to remember what she’d looked like back when she was still young enough for that to work. It was strange. He couldn’t imagine her any younger. And yet the suit must have known her.

'You still don’t remember?' said Jude.

'No. Why wouldn’t I remember?' said Seven.

'You cost her the job, or at least the suit did. The moment the suit got interested in her she was out on her ear, replaced with a younger model. She wasn’t ready for it. She came to work with us while she retrained for desk work. I caught her on the rebound. I never met whichever of your predecessors it was but he certainly knew about me. He knew that she’d been kicked out and he knew where to.'

And just for a moment Seven remembered. He remembered the whole thing. He remembered recruiting the young Emma Smith, training her, protecting her, the paternal pride he’d felt when she took on the job. And then one day he’d stopped feeling paternal. Her face looked different, her proportions had changed. Suddenly, seemingly overnight she’d started looking like the woman he’d always known she was inside.

It had been a glorious affair but it had been short. Less than a month before someone said something and she was gone. Out of the program and back to using her real name.

He had known where she’d gone. He’d even watched them. He’d never got close but he’d seen them together. He’d wanted to be sure that Jude was good for her. She deserved good. She deserved better than him. And then, somehow, he’d forgotten all of it. He hadn’t even recognised her when she returned to HQ years later. How that must have hurt her. To see him, apparently still looking the same, still acting the same, and not recognising her.

Seven felt off balance. As if some part of him was trying to throw the memories out of his head. This was what Cutty and Sorrow had worried about. That the wrong piece of information would cost him the suit.

He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. If he could meditate his way out of torture he could handle this. Ok, so technically that hadn’t been him but it also, sort of, had been.

He opened his eyes to see Jude’s concerned face. 'I’m fine.'

'I believe you,' said Jude, who clearly didn’t.

'No you don’t,' said Seven.

'I’m trying to,' said Jude.

Seven felt the memories settle into their appropriate place in his mind. Still there as factual information but stripped of their emotional weight as long as he didn’t examine them too closely. 'So she knows Cepha? Trained under her?' he said, mainly to avoid examining them too closely.

'Directly under her. Emma was her protégée as much as Abby is to Emma. And she knew me as well as anyone knows me. She knows how rigid my loyalties are. I go where Cepha sends me, I follow her orders and no-one else’s. Cepha has been generating cover stories since the 1940s. She could come up with an utterly convincing explanation for everything if she cared to. This is a calculated ‘fuck you’ to Emma.'

Seven would have asked more but he heard Sorrow leaving the house behind him and turned to greet her. He had assumed she’d wanted her leather coat from the bedroom but she had actually stripped off her sweater, wrapped the red shawl round her shoulders and strapped on a belt that held a short sword in a scabbard against her left hip.

'You picked a ford to aim for yet?' she said.

'Picked one as soon as I looked at the list,' said Jude. 'You sure you’re ready to go? Said all you want to say?' He jerked his head in the direction of the house, as if suggesting that Sorrow might have unfinished business inside.

Sorrow hesitated. Seven could see that she was in a hurry to go but that she was giving the question some thought. She turned and headed back into the kitchen.

'You lot look after each other and if I don’t come back do not hesitate to throw my reputation under the bus to protect your own. I swear that if anyone gets into trouble trying to defend my good name then I will rise from the grave just to kick their arses for it.' She turned her back on the house and for a moment Seven could see some emotion on her face that she was trying to hide. Not fear. More like regret.

'Right, Jude,' said Sorrow, her voice a good deal more jovial than her face, 'time to get us out of here.'