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set of eyes, ears and hands. Which of course meant closer contact with his Elite CO, and the need to speak up when he saw that something wasn’t right.

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ Gonzalez growled, more in pain than anger, but it was enough to make Atkins wince. ‘Get the ground car ready!’

‘Yes, Colonel!’ Atkins replied formally, snapping to attention despite the fact that Gonzalez couldn’t possibly see him.

Some of the spit and polish must have carried across, because it was Gonzalez’s turn to wince. If it was Ingram who had asked, he would have been honest with her about his injury. In fact, he would probably have told her the moment they were onboard the Hippogryph and long before the jump.

‘I’m sorry, Sarge,’ he panted, and resumed his journey down the ladder. ‘Didn’t mean to bite your head off. My ribs are busted and it hurts like a bitch.’

‘I figured as much,’ Atkins replied, not realising he was only underscoring Gonzalez’s self-recrimination.

A couple of minutes later, with the ground car ready and waiting, he bent over to help Eloise up off the floor. She was still panting, and her legs probably felt even more jelly-like than they were behaving, but she offered no resistance. Soon after, Gonzalez joined them on the ground.

***

‘Where are we?’ Eloise asked when Atkins switched the engine on and guided the open-roofed ground car out of the shaft and into a gently curving tunnel.

‘Visor down,’ Gonzalez ordered, and a rustling sound told him Eloise had obeyed his command instantly. ‘This is an old, crudely modified vehicle, and the exhaust fumes are toxic in such an enclosed space. They won’t kill you after a brief exposure, but the headache is epic and we are two point six kilometres and a long staircase climb away from the Roc. The nanobots in the walls will eliminate the toxins eventually, but it takes a few hours,’ he clarified, his attention half on his comp, checking Roc de Chere’s perimeter and other security functions. Tilly remained non-responsive, but the automated security defences pinged green, not only showing their satisfactory standby status but also indicating that they hadn’t been tampered with.

Gonzalez grunted with satisfaction and gave Eloise his full attention.

‘It’s a tunnel running under Lac d’Annecy at its narrowest point from Duingt to a cavern just short of the Roc. Originally the tunnel began under the Chateau de Duingt, but since the water levels in Lac d’Annecy rose half of the castle is now submerged, making it inaccessible. The extension we are now passing through and the shaft were added recently. So were the reinforcements to the rest of the tunnel. It’s safe.’

‘Convenient,’ Eloise replied.

‘Hardly,’ Gonzalez snorted. ‘The Alps are crisscrossed with thousands of tunnels. Old caves and natural passages as well as man-made structures over the last nine hundred years. The Duingt tunnel was used heavily during the 22nd century before the Great Collapse and has remained relatively untouched over the centuries since.

‘There was a series of bombings in the vicinity in 2657, when the military base outside of Geneva was being evacuated, and the tunnel suffered what was believed at the time to be catastrophic damage. I have been working on this tunnel for years, and chose Roc de Chere as a spot for the bunker because of this tunnel. It was to be the last-ditch escape route from the Roc in an emergency. I never quite envisioned using it to get inside though.’

‘Nanobot-resurrected?’ Eloise asked. As usual, the nerd in her was finding solace and calmness in computer science.

‘Yes. Standard underwater recovery project. Stabilisation of surrounding rock, filling in of the cracks and pores, pumping water out, followed by little luxuries like lights, breathable air and the car you’re in right now.’

‘You programmed it?’ Eloise asked, though it came out more as a statement. A statement full of surprise and… respect.

‘Yes. With months of simulations, of course, before I dared to unleash the nanobots.’

‘The structural and architectural knowledge needed must have been immense. Very impressive.’

‘We’re at the end of the tunnel,’ Atkins announced, saving Gonzalez from having to deal with an embarrassing compliment. ‘Do you want to send the vehicle back, sir?’

‘No. I don’t believe they will ever find the hatch in Duingt, but let’s not make it easier for them if they do. Between the ladder and the tunnel we will probably get something like twenty minutes’ warning. No, let’s leave it here.’ He heaved himself up with a groan of pain. ‘Hope your quads have recovered, because now it’s a steep staircase up.’

‘Colonel, let me have a look at your ribs before we tackle the stairs, please,’ Atkins said, pulling out a first aid kit.

Gonzalez hesitated for a moment. They were no safer inside Roc de Chere than they were in the underground chamber six hundred metres short of the bunker. A bit of help before the climb would come in handy.

‘Go for it, Sarge,’ he agreed, allowing his aching body to slump back into the car seat and leaning more comfortably against the back rest while the young Leech picked up a portable medical scanner.

***

‘Okay, Ms Moretti, we need to work out as soon as possible what happened with Till—’

‘Just like that?’

The damn staircase had taken them longer than it should have, due to their exhaustion and various injuries, and Gonzalez could feel the pressure of the ticking clock. They had been in the bunker for mere seconds, and he hadn’t even sat down yet, worried that if he allowed his body to relax he would be done for.

‘Excuse me?’ The words came out cold, his teeth gritted in pain.

‘You just want me to forget about what happened and go back to work? Like nothing fucking happened?’ The rage was rising fast now that their immediate safety had been taken care of. There seemed to be no way to put a hold on the bubbling fury. Not that Eloise had much experience in throttling strong emotions.

‘Ms Moretti, please.’ Gonzalez leant against a stone wall. The first aid

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