Restoring Time

by Jenn Lees

  “You will convert all your vehicles?”

  “Most likely.”

  “Even the tanks and other military vehicles?”

  Bethany nodded. They would be first, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “If I agree, you will pay in gold bullion.”

  “Pardon?” Bethany’s brow pulled tight, and she stifled a choke unrelated to the whisky.

  “You heard me.”

  “I—we assumed you would barter for it.” Bethany sat forward on the couch.

  “I am willing to take it in silver, platinum or copper.” Lloyd took a casual sip of the amber liquid.

  “Precious metals aren’t currency at present.”

  “That’s true.” The clock on the mantle piece chimed. “But if you and the New Scottish Government are successful, and the country gets back on its feet once more, commerce will recommence, and currency-based trade will soon replace bartering. History shows that precious metals have always been the standard for a currency-based economy. I wish to be at the forefront.”

  “I cannot make any promises. Goodness!” Bethany couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice. “You’re asking a lot.”

  “Come now, Miss Watts. You’re not implying that the New Scottish Government doesn’t have vaults full of the stuff and a mint press ready to make it into coin?” He sat back in the couch. “A barrel of oil is roughly two hundred litres,” the businessman continued.

  “Are you certain that, under the current circumstances,”—Bethany squinted an eye— “with the darkened skies affecting crop growth, you will be able to maintain it?”

  The drones had shown large storage vats here at this property, and a building they were certain held an oil-press, plus three others in Fife belonging to Mr Lloyd.

  “I’m not a soothsayer, Miss Watts. I don’t suffer from the delusion that I can predict the future, but I will say that the dimmed heavens won’t last forever...At least, I hope they won’t.”

  The ticking of the clock on the mantle piece was the only sound in the quiet room. Lloyd and his son stared at her without flinching.

  “I also wish to have a place in the New Scottish Government.” Lloyd didn’t blink, still resting his forearms on his thighs.

  Bethany drew a calming breath. They’d anticipated this. Antony had warned her a man such as Lloyd wouldn’t be content to sit on the sidelines when the world verged toward normal and trade recommenced. Bethany willed herself to composure. This man’s ambitious nature had shown itself in her conversations with him at Christmas. As to serving his country as a member of the New Scottish Government—his own self would be the only person benefitting.

  “Mr Lloyd, that isn’t for me to decide. There will be elections. You need to put yourself, and what you represent, to the people.”

  “Now, young lady, you know that will take a long time to happen.” Lloyd’s tone was stern, then his eyes narrowed. “I’m an old man. I want in now, not in two years’ time when your people finally get their shite together. I won’t have much time of my own left to enjoy the benefits.” Lloyd’s lips were a thin line.

  Bethany blinked.

  “Michael, you can leave.” Lloyd hadn’t removed his stare from her. The man who stood by the door, dressed in the dark uniform of Lloyd’s security, turned to leave. For the first time, Bethany noted the firearm strapped to this security man’s thigh. “So can your man, Miss Watts.”

  “No, sir.” Henderson’s firm voice came from behind her.

  “I wish to discuss something of national importance with the Prime Minister.” Lloyd directed his announcement over Bethany’s head to Henderson. His raised voice sent a chill down Bethany’s spine. He took a slow breath and focused on her. “Prime Minister, we need privacy for what I will reveal to you.”

  Lloyd’s grey eyes were like two steel daggers boring into her.

  She didn’t move; neither did Henderson.

  “Major McLellan is aware of what I’m about to tell you. He wouldn’t wish anyone but you to possess this information. He”— Lloyd flicked his gaze up to Henderson— “must leave now.”

  So, Antony knew.

  The alarm that had commenced in Bethany’s mind receded a little. He’d lied about knowing Lloyd. He’d never done so before. It must be crucial for him to deny her this information. Well, she would find out what Lloyd wished to tell her.

  “You may leave,” she said to Henderson without glancing behind. The pad of his footsteps on the soft carpet trailed out the door which then closed and the sole sound for a time was the echo of the clock’s quarter-hour chime. It competed with the pulse thudding in Bethany’s head.

  Maxwell remained standing statuesque behind his father.

  “I know about the Time Machine and that its mechanism has been a mystery to you.” Lloyd placed his empty glass on the table and leaned back into the couch. The thudding in Bethany’s head became a tumult. “I’m a learned man, Miss Watts. I did not attend university, but I have spent most of my very long adult life acquiring knowledge.”

  Bethany blinked, trying to steady herself, not answering.

  “The Community representative, Murray Campbell, has known for a time how to operate the machine.”

  “Yes, but it hasn’t worked since we brought it to the Bunker, and we suspect—”

  “Oh, it has worked.”

  Bethany frowned. “How?”

  “It doesn’t require electricity.” Lloyd’s rheumy eyes narrowed with his smugness. “It’s not a time machine, it’s actually a portal.”

  Bethany sat up, her brow cooling with sweat.

  “I see this is quite a revelation for you, Miss Watts.” Lloyd smirked. “I’ve travelled in it.”

  Bethany gasped. “How? When?”

  “While enjoying your hospitality at Christmas, your head technician, MacIntosh, gave me a free ride.”

  “How did he—?”

  “Questions, questions.” Lloyd’s hands clasped in front of him. “For a Prime Minister, you don’t know much, do you?”

  Bethany took a breath while a storm in her ribcage commenced its accompaniment to the tumult in her mind.

  “I’m sorry, Prime Minister. I’ve been a patient man, but even I can run in short supply. You see, in the future, I am important. And your lover, Antony—” He paused here. “Aye, little has escaped me. McLellan will be Prime Minister and well, when I looked for you, you were nowhere to be found.”

  Bethany’s hands were trembling.

  “So, I decided we should not mess with fate. In fact, we should assist it as much as possible.” His expression filled with greed. “I was delighted to discover like-minded people residing in the Government Bunker. Surprised at the rank of some. And with a little help from my son—” He twisted his mouth and gave a slight shake of his head. “No, I must give Micah more credit, for he revealed the Time Machine to me.” His eyes lifted from his clasped hands. “Micah interrogated your spies who followed the Campbell’s home and listened to their recordings before destroying them. Micah’s mother taught him thievery; I like to think I taught him espionage.” His smile, full of pride, encompassed his face.

  Bethany found the air was difficult to drag into her lungs.

  “Michael!” Lloyd snapped his fingers at the door. Bethany flinched in her seat. A thud came from behind the door. It opened and revealed Henderson’s legs laying outstretched on the rich red carpet. Lloyd’s henchman strode to her, grabbed her by the wrists, and dragged her out of the room and along the corridor. Her scotch glass thudded to the floor and lay ignored on the carpet at Henderson’s feet. Dragged along by Michael, she passed the opened doors of rooms that led off this hallway. Bethany glanced through heavy curtains and out the windows of the large ornately decorated rooms. Men in dark uniforms, all armed with submachine guns, guarded each window and the fence outside, and double guards were at the front and back of the driveway. Her government personnel were nowhere.

  “Aye, it is secure, Miss Watts.” Lloyd and Maxwell str
olled behind her.

  Bethany lost a shoe as Michael dragged her past the last window. A guard by a room down the hallway opened the door and Michael thrust her in.

  “I trust the accommodations are to your liking, Miss Watts.” Lloyd’s face was full of resolve as the door shut on her.

  Chapter 41

  Scottish Government Bunker, Edinburgh

  Siobhan ran as well as possible with the weight of her pregnant belly protruding forward and an ache niggling her back. She’d reached the double doors of the hydroponic hall, holding her belly and splinting it with her arms for support, when Murray caught up with her.

  “Bill MacIntosh hid them,” he said.

  Siobhan leaned on the concourse rail just before the doors to the stairwell.

  Traitor! Who else was behind this coup?

  “Lloyd wants rid of Bethany. He’s got her on his turf in a vulnerable place with a limited security detail. The man has an army.” Her throat tightened. Her childhood friend’s life may be in danger. Then cold flashed through her body, leaving her skin moist with sweat. Rory would soon be there... “We must avoid MacIntosh. The communications room is near where the tech guys hang out. Damn.”

  “I know a back way.” Murray took her hand and hurried through to the stairwell and down one flight, marched across to the stair that belonged to the main section of the Bunker, but veered left to a side door.

  “How do you know all this?” Siobhan’s words came through each breath.

  “I don’t sleep well,” Murray threw over his shoulder, picking up his pace. “An active mind, and all that.”

  They came to a narrower staircase and Murray continued to lead the way. Siobhan let go of his hand and he ran ahead. She stopped at the third flight of stairs. Murray had opened the door to that floor a crack and stood listening.

  Siobhan’s breath came hard.

  All this pregnancy weight was making her slow.

  Murray turned and placed a finger to his lips as voices coinciding with shadows passed, then Murray beckoned her to come with him. They stepped into the dim corridor where open doors lay ahead to their left, and Murray sidled beside each one to determine if anyone was in them. When he discovered each was clear, Murray waved her forward.

  They turned left down the corridor that held the room with the CB radios. A shadow loomed in a doorway. Murray pushed her back into an empty office and peered out its door. Voices receded along the hall, then Murray led her out.

  “You’re good at this cloak and dagger stuff, Murray,” Siobhan whispered.

  “Yes, but not good enough.”

  Siobhan spun to a familiar voice.

  Antony stood behind them.

  “What are you doing out of prison?” Murray stepped in front of Siobhan.

  “Out of my way, kid.” Antony pushed Murray aside and grasped Siobhan’s upper arm with force. “Do something with him, would you?” He spoke to the shadowed figure behind him, indicating to Murray.

  Bill MacIntosh stepped forward and grabbed Murray, placing him in a headlock, and dragged him along. Antony pushed Siobhan ahead of himself and turned them back the way they had come.

  “You know I’m not happy with you, Murray.” MacIntosh spoke to Murray tucked tightly under his arm. “You’re the smartest of the lot of them, but you’re still dumb. How long did you think you could keep the real workings of the Time Machine from us? Thankfully, our bugs worked, and our spies have good memories despite being beaten half to death. As head of IT, I have certain privileges, and being the only one to debrief the techy guys who followed Siobhan home was one of them.” He chuckled softly. “And I only report to those I wish to.”

  “In here’ll do.” Antony stopped at a small, empty room to their right. He pushed Siobhan in and planted her hard on the chair in front of the desk.

  A pulling pain shot into Siobhan’s pelvis. “Ow!”

  “Oh? Sorry, little mother. Did that hurt?” Sarcasm laced Antony’s words. “Bet it didn’t hurt as much as this.” He thrust his index finger at his own cheek where a purple scar glowed angrily.

  MacIntosh manoeuvred to the other chair tucked behind the desk, easing his lock on Murray to get by the desk. Murray wriggled his way loose from MacIntosh’s hold and thrust with fingers sharp into MacIntosh’s side. Bill grunted, then bent forward. Murray lifted his elbow high and descended onto Bill’s back, landing with the force of his full weight pointed between the man’s shoulder blades, forcing MacIntosh’s body down. MacIntosh’s head caught on the edge of the desk. Murray jumped, knees-first, onto MacIntosh’s back and continued the downward action. Bill’s neck cracked and the sickening bone crunch filled the room. MacIntosh’s floppy body slumped to the floor. Murray spun to face Antony, red faced and puffing from his exertion.

  “What!” Antony yelled, releasing his grip on Siobhan and stepping to Murray.

  Murray looked directly at Siobhan, with an expression like he was trying to tell her something just as Antony punched his mouth. Murray fell backward against the office wall, his head slamming hard into the plaster, and slid to the floor, his hands tucked awkwardly behind him.

  Antony spun back to her. “Don’t you move!”

  Siobhan flinched with the suddenness of Antony’s order.

  “You bloody Campbells are nothing but trouble! It just can’t happen soon enough!”

  Siobhan breathed in deep, drawing on her courage and ignoring the intermittent tightness in her belly.

  “It works on a Ley line. Lloyd told me. But you know that. You’ve known it all along.” Antony bent down and sneered into her face. The acrid scent of male perspiration sweated out under stress wafted into her nostrils. “I can’t wait till it’s all over and that boy of yours is well and truly out of it.” He stood and straightened his shoulders, doing that shuffle he always did when on the defensive. “My only regret will be Beth—” He tugged at his ear. “Collateral damage. It’s to be expected,” he said, snapping himself back.

  A wave of tightness started at the top of Siobhan’s protruding belly and made its way down, pushing into the insides of her pelvis. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The pain stayed so she took another.

  “What’re you doing?” Antony stood back. “Oh, no. You won’t fool me and use that for an excuse. Beth told me you’re not due for another month yet.”

  Siobhan focused on Murray whose nose was bleeding, and his eyelids fluttered. He was regaining consciousness. She’d do anything to take her mind off the pain and the sirens screeching in her brain.

  Antony stood before her, staring, nostrils flaring. Foot tread echoed along the hall outside and Antony turned to the noise. The pain in Siobhan’s pelvis and back receded to a tightness. Murray opened his eyes and moved his hand from behind his back.

  He held a handgun—MacIntosh’s handgun.

  The clipped footsteps drew nearer, and Antony strode to the door. So far, he hadn’t produced a weapon. Both his hands were empty. Siobhan had noted earlier he had no handgun tucked into his belt at the front, and now she viewed his back. None there either.

  Siobhan pushed herself off the chair. Antony still had his back to her, pushing the door to. She trusted the thud of the closing door, plus Antony’s attention on the footsteps outside, to mask her movements. She landed hard on her knees before Murray and caught the gun he thrust into her hands.

  “Safety’s off,” Murray whispered.

  “What!” Antony’s growl came from behind her as Siobhan made to stand. Antony leaped toward her from the door and grabbed the gun in her hands. “Give me that!”

  Siobhan held tight to the stock of the pistol as Antony’s massive hand surrounded her own. He landed on her, forcing her flat on her back. With one hand he pushed her shoulder down. With the other, he held her hands grasping the handgun and shoved it away and out to her right.

  Antony’s torso pressed on her abdomen, pushing her very pregnant uterus onto her major blood vessels. A light-headedness came over her. She pulled her right leg
up and shoved on his thigh, trying to lift his weight off her. She blinked and focused on her hand still holding the gun, determined he wouldn’t remove it from her.

  Antony grunted with his efforts. She pushed at his thigh with her foot again. Spots came before her eyes. She slid her foot right up to Antony’s groin and put all her fading energy into thrusting him away with the point of her heel. Her vision cleared as his astonished face came into view, the force on her hands disappearing.

  Siobhan twisted the gun and aimed.

  A loud crack rang in her ears.

  The side of his face, once emblazoned with that angry scar, disappeared, taking an eye with it. She pushed him off herself. The other eye, full of shock, stared at her. She rose from the floor onto all fours, her head clearing further with a better blood flow. Still her tightening uterus pushed pain into her back.

  “Murray?” She steadied her breathing while the pain reached a crescendo and then receded.

  “I’m okay.” He sounded dopey and nasal. “Are you?”

  “Ah, I will be.” As her head cleared, so did the pain. “Where did you learn those moves?”

  “Dad,” Murray answered. “He insisted we all know how to fight and handle firearms, even the nerd.” He smiled beneath his bloodied nose. “You go CB Rory.” He kicked Antony’s limp arm off his feet. “I’ll be there soon.”

  Siobhan turned to the thoughts flashing through her mind. She recalled self-defence lessons with Rory. He’d stressed that most women weren’t stronger than the average man, not even Kendra, he’d said with a laugh. But a supple, fit woman could out-manoeuvre a man any day.

  Well, husband, you were right.

  She shifted her knees to get up off the floor—pain pushing low in her pelvis.

  “No. Wait, please,” she asked her body. “I’ve got to get to the CB.”

  “You sure you’re okay?” Murray asked again as she handed him the gun.

  “Keep an eye on them, just in case...”

  “Yeah, well, I think you have the hair trigger to thank for Antony being out of action.” Murray took the pistol and switched the safety back on. “Your grappling skills were pretty cool, too.”