* The next stop out from Barking on the District Line: as in, Barking Mad.
* Named for Sir Robert Peel, who laid down the principles of modern policing by consent and founded the Metropolitan Police.
* The Laundry operates in a gray area, but some parts of the regular government machinery have to be directly aware of us—bits of the Ministry of Defense, some police officers, units within the Home Office. And others have to be pre-vetted so that in event of a crisis they can be briefed immediately. Normally, anyone who doesn’t have need to know is kept in the dark, unless and until their NTK status changes. We do not, for example, generally stand up and give briefings in front of Commons Select Committees or the assembled Home Office Ministers. But any politician who makes it to the rank of Secretary of State for the Home Department is cleared before they get there, because they may suddenly develop need to know at very short notice. As Jessica Greene is about to learn . . .
* We’re British, dammit, we have an ISO-standard national sense of humor. Some jobsworth will doubtless change the organization’s title when it goes before a Home Office subcommittee for approval, but in the meantime, we brew up strong.
* There are some disturbing exceptions—I’m still not privy to the analysis of how Iris Carpenter perverted her geas to the point where she could survive questioning—but in general we have a lower level of internal threats than other security organizations. And no whistle-blowers. Even though the existence of the Iris loophole means there is no room for complacency.
* We do not use the Z-word; it’s a violation of our group-wide policy on respect for diversity and equality to refer to metabolic status.
* What is the collective noun for a group of very senior police officers, anyway? In their uniform tunics and white shirts they remind me of magpies or crows, but referring to a murder of chief constables seems somehow inappropriate . . .
* It arrived early last week. When I phoned Harry the Horse at the New Annex and he said it couldn’t be fitted before next month, I snarled semi-politely and referred him to the Senior Auditor: it’s amazing what taking God’s name in vain can accomplish, when you’ve got God on speed dial and he considers your needs to be an urgent priority.
* It’s not as if MPs don’t die at random intervals during a parliamentary session—or even commit suicide—and if that happens, a by-election is called to fill the empty seat. Nor is it likely that a promising candidate with a golden tongue and high-level backing won’t get elected if he stands in a safe seat, weeping crocodile tears for the MP who killed himself . . .
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The Annihilation Score Page 44