"It would appear, sir," said one of the handful of men scattered around the table in Under-secretary Ingram's office, "that we've lost him. We haven't the details yet, but someone got to Wells before we did ( Read more... )

The office of the Under-secretary of State for Defence and Veteran Affairs is a bit of a mess even at the best of times. Tom Ingram is a busy man.

He is, however, trying valiantly to get through his inbox. And he's almost certain he didn't previously see that flat brown manila envelope that suddenly seems to be lying on top of it. But it's there, ( Read more... )

The door, this time, does not open to Harry Wells' house, but to another London location instead. It's not far at all to Whitehall from here, and the weather's quite pleasant- high visibility in all directions.

Harry does not appear to like it, but then, the occasion calls for him to wear a suit, and he hates civilian suits. That may be ( Read more... )

The door opens onto a quiet, small house in London. It smells faintly of baked goods and other things a bit more difficult to identify. Wells stands in the doorway a moment just inhaling before remembering his manners and stepping to one side. "Machine's upstairs," he says. "Annie keeps it in the bedroom. Anyone who asks gets told it's for the home