by Glenn Carter
‘Sweet,’ said Sharav.
Paul woke at 8.30am to a strange noise outside. He staggered over to the window, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and squinting out at the morning light. To his surprise the bright sun was reflecting off a new covering of snow. As far as his eyes could see, the neighbourhood had been transformed. It was clean and crisp under a foot of snow. He smiled as he noticed that he had been woken up by a couple of younger kids next door, who were cycling their new bikes into a small snowdrift.
‘Oh, it’s Christmas,’ he said out loud.
Sharav was still fast asleep. Paul remembered Sharav saying that he could sleep through anything and his parents often had to use extreme measures to wake him up.
‘Okay then, extreme measures it is,’ thought Paul. He pulled on some trousers, a warm jumper and trainers and ran downstairs. He returned two minutes later with three snowballs, which he threw at Sharav’s head. Sharav only stirred after the second snowball brushed his nose. He woke with a start as the third snowball hit his ear.
‘Ohhh, what… it’s raining. Oh, it’s really cold.’
‘Morning Sharav. Happy Christmas. Guess what happened outside?’
‘Ehh, it’s raining? Earthquake? Wait… oh snow?’
‘Yes,’ laughed Paul. ‘It snowed last night. And you’ve just been woken up by three snowballs. First time that ever happened?’
‘Yep first time,’ Sharav smiled as he dried his face with the duvet, ‘Happy Christmas, Paul.’
‘Happy Christmas,’ said Paul brightly.
Sharav shivered. ‘Egh, a snowball in the ear isn’t the best way to be woken up. It’s not the worst though! My brother once woke me up with a snake in my bed.’
Sharav rummaged under the bed and pulled out a long, strangely shaped object that had been wrapped in brown paper. ‘I’ve got you a present. Sorry about the wrapping.’
‘Don’t apologise, it’s the present that counts,’ Paul said, pulling off the paper to reveal the biggest Toblerone he had ever seen. ‘It’s huge!’ Paul smiled as he ripped open the cardboard and threw two large chunks to Sharav.
‘Yum,’ said Sharav as he crammed a piece into this mouth.
The boys ate through half of the Toblerone and only stopped when the nausea set in.
‘Oh, I’ve got a present for you.’ Paul hesitated. ‘I’m really sorry, it’s terrible.’
‘I’m sure it’s not that bad,’ said Sharav.
‘No really, it is.’ Paul handed the present to Sharav, noting that some snow had landed on it and soaked through the paper. Sharav opened it and smiled. ‘It’s a… it’s a facecloth, a brown facecloth.’ He smiled as he looked up from the facecloth at Paul whose eyebrows were raised.
‘Yeah, a soggy, brown facecloth,’ said Paul. Sharav began to laugh and then so did Paul. And then something happened to Paul, something that hadn’t happened in long time. Paul laughed and laughed until his sides hurt and he found it difficult to breathe. Both boys were rolling around the floor unable to control themselves for about five minutes, until Paul couldn’t take it anymore and crawled out of the room. He sat in the hall, trying to breathe deeply. He would occasionally start laughing again when he heard Sharav howling in the bedroom and saying ‘soggy facecloth’ to himself.
The boys eventually composed themselves and got dressed. They went downstairs and ate some breakfast with Rachel in the kitchen. At about 10am Mrs Fox entered the room. She tried to smile, but it was obvious that she had been crying. ‘Good morning dears, Happy Christmas.’
Rachel gave her Mum a hug and said, ‘Happy Christmas Mum.’
‘Happy Christmas Mrs Fox,’ said Sharav.
‘Happy Christmas Mum,’ said Paul, as he went over and gave her a big hug. She held on to him.
‘Where’s Dad?’ asked Paul.
‘I’m not sure,’ replied his Mum anxiously. ‘He’s still not back. He’s never been away on Christmas Day before. Perhaps there’s some crisis at the European Council. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.’
‘Right,’ said Paul unconvinced.
‘Mum, can we go through to the living room and give out some presents?’ asked Rachel, trying to sound upbeat.
‘Yes dear, let me give your Uncle Stewart a phone just to see if he knows where your Dad is.’
Paul, Rachel and Sharav went through to the living room and turned on the Christmas tree lights. The tiny, scraggly tree looked pathetic in the light of day.
Mrs Fox came in and sat down in a chair beside the Christmas tree, where she could look out the window.
‘Any news from Uncle Stewart?’ Rachel asked, her face colouring.
‘No, he says he hasn’t heard anything either, but that he would make a few calls to see if he can track him down.’
Paul stood up and walked towards the tree saying, ‘Right Mum, I’ve got you a present.’ He picked up her present and handed it over, followed by a kiss on the cheek.
‘Thank you love.’ She slowly unwrapped the present to reveal a perfume bottle. ‘Oh, lovely.’
‘Yeah, it’s eh… expensive,’ smiled Paul.
‘Thank you dear, thank you very much’.
Sharav also handed a present to Mrs Fox and said, ‘Oh this is from me and my parents, just to thank you for having me to stay and cause, well, because it’s Christmas.’
‘Oh, you shouldn’t have Sharav,’ said Mrs Fox catching his eye.
‘It’s nothing, it’s just small.’
Mrs Fox unwrapped the small present to reveal a simple wooden carving of a parent hugging a child. She stared at the carving for about ten seconds, making Sharav think that she really didn’t like it. Then, slowly, a single tear fell on the gift.
Sharav looked at Paul, alarmed, and Paul mouthed silently, ‘It’s fine.’
Paul put his hand on his Mum’s shoulder, ‘You okay Mum?’
‘Yes, it’s, it’s beautiful.’
‘Okay, right, well I wonder if there are any other presents under the tree.’
They exchanged some more gifts and Paul put on a brave face to hide his disappointment at getting a new jumper, socks and some chocolate Santas. Sharav opened some presents from his parents that included some money, a book about God and a boomerang. ‘We could do some damage with that!’ Paul laughed as he pretended to throw it at the window.
Rachel excelled at present giving. She gave her Mum and Paul a couple of beautifully wrapped gifts. She even managed to get headphones for Sharav. Rachel looked at her father’s unopened present and put her hand on her stomach. Paul looked at Rachel. They all felt it. Where was Michael Fox?
4
The Call
Paul and Rachel managed to cook a reasonable Christmas dinner. Everyone stoically ate the overcooked turkey and Sharav even managed to say that it was ‘moist’. He had picked up the word from previous Christmases. All adults said turkey was ‘moist.’
There was still no news from Mr Fox, so at 3 pm, as the light was beginning to fade, Paul suggested that they go out for a walk. Mrs Fox, having already left several messages on her husband’s voicemail and spoken to Stewart a couple more times, said that she would prefer to stay at home and wait for Michael to call. So the three young people headed out in the snow towards Pepper Wood.
The streets were deserted as families throughout the village were indoors watching old Christmas films and overeating cheap chocolate. The snow had a deadening effect on the noise, ‘It’s so quiet.’ said Rachel. They looked around as the soft light of the sun slowly began to set.
As they walked through the wood, Sharav entertained Rachel and Paul with stories of Christmases gone by. He described the different Christmas traditions in a range of exotic locations around the world.
‘Yeah and in Caracas in Venezuela the streets are closed to cars in the morning, so hundreds of people can roller-skate to mass! I joined in but crashed into a static Granny. She was fine, but I wasn’t! Quite a lot of blood.’
Just then they were startled by a female jogger who pas
sed them at pace. She was a few metres in front of them when she dropped something. Paul ran forward to pick it up. It was a £2 coin. He called out to her, ‘Excuse me, you’ve dropped something!’ The jogger continued running. Paul shrugged his shoulders and put the coin in his pocket.
Towards the end of their walk Paul took the coin out of his pocket and studied it under the light of a lamppost. ‘It’s odd. Why would someone be running at that time on Christmas Day?’
‘There are some crazy exercise people out there Paul,’ said Rachel. ‘Some of them can’t go a day without a run.’
‘Yeah but there’s something not right with this coin. It’s too light.’
‘Paul it’s freezing out here,’ said Sharav. ‘Can we go inside?’
Paul knocked the coin on the lamppost and then tried to twist it. To their astonishment he began to untwist the top of the coin. Inside the hollow coin was a carefully folded piece of paper with some printed text. Paul read it out.
‘Your father has been captured and he is in grave danger. If you want to save him, agree to the recruitment and get to MI2 headquarters as soon as you can. Uncover the double agent. There are dangerous people who will try to stop you at all costs. Destroy this message.’
Paul and Rachel stared at each other, speechless. After a few moments Sharav piped up, ‘That’s… weird.’
Rachel said, ‘Why would anyone want to capture our Dad? He’s a civil servant. He’s not important!’
Paul’s head swam and his mouth became dry. He eventually spoke with determination in his eyes, ‘This makes sense. Dad wouldn’t miss Christmas. I’ve been feeling it all day. Something bad has happened and we have to help him. We don’t have a choice.’
‘Let’s go to the police. They’ll help!’ said Sharav.
‘No way,’ said Paul. We can’t trust anyone, and the security services are way more powerful than the police. If anyone finds out about this, it could make things worse for Dad and us.’
They huddled together and, one after the other, pulled out the MI2 business cards.
‘Hmm, there are no contact details on the card, how are we supposed to contact Natalie and Rob?’ Rachel asked, looking at Paul.
‘Yea, no bar code, no chip. They are pretty heavy though,’ said Paul.
‘I wonder,’ Rachel said as she reached into her coat and took out her phone. She gently touched her phone with the card and smiled as they heard a gentle ‘bing.’ A black coloured app started to download. The sign-up process didn’t take long, in fact all they had to do was type in their name, take a photo of themselves and tick a box. As they headed home Paul heard a notification. He looked down at his phone and read out the message,
‘Thank you for signing up. There is one final step before your recruitment is confirmed. Please get to this location in 20 minutes. We will not wait.’
Paul looked, wide eyed, at the map. Both Rachel and Sharav had received the same message.
‘That’s Dundas Estate! It’s directing us to a tennis court. Does Dundas Castle have a tennis court?’
‘Looks like it,’ said Rachel.
‘We’ve got to get there fast. It’s 1.5 miles from here. We’ll need to run,’ said Paul with urgency.
‘Oh, not running,’ exclaimed Sharav. ‘Can we get a taxi?’
‘Not on Christmas night, Sharav!’ smiled Paul.
Fifteen minutes later, the group was approaching a well-lit Dundas Castle. It was a beautiful 15th century castle that stood proudly in a four-hundred-acre estate.
Paul was pushing Sharav from behind and Rachel was dragging him from the front.
‘Almost there,’ puffed Paul.
‘Oh dear, we can’t go any further,’ said Sharav pointing at the ‘Private Property’ sign.
‘Listen Sharav, if we’re going to join MI2, we’re going to have to break some rules.’
Rachel glanced at her phone. ‘Just over this hill.’
They reached the tennis court just in time to hear a strange buzzing noise. Soon they saw three red flashing lights heading towards them at speed. ‘Drones!’ exclaimed Paul. ‘Look Sharav!’
Paul turned around to see Sharav fast asleep in a snowdrift.
The drones hovered ten feet above their heads and gradually descended, landing on the court. To their astonishment the drones deposited three packages before rising up and disappearing towards the bridges over the Forth.
The packages were labelled with their first names. Rachel reached down and picked up her package. A small silver note fell to the ground. ‘For your eyes only,’ it read.
Rachel jumped as Sharav read the note over her shoulder. ‘Sorry, had a little nap there. Feeling much better now.’
The three friends opened their packages and gazed at the most beautiful smart watches they had ever seen. Sharav gently lifted the watch out of the box and said, ‘I think I am going to pee my pants!’
Each watch was made of solid stainless steel. They had round faces and felt very expensive. Paul placed the watch on his wrist and to his amazement the strap tightened itself. ‘What! Did you see that?’ he exclaimed.
‘I wonder how you turn them on?’ said Rachel, grinning as she placed the watch on her wrist. Instantly Rachel’s watch turned itself on and a message on the face said, ‘Checking DNA’.
‘Oh, so you just say ‘on’ and it turns on,’ said Paul.
After ten seconds Rachel’s watch announced in a French accent, ‘DNA confirmed. Welcome to the IT watch, Rachel Fox, comment ça va? My name is Lucille.’
‘Wow,’ Paul said stepping back, ‘It talks!’
Sharav smiled broadly as his watch said, ‘Hello Sharav, you can call me Arlo.’
‘Paul, I’m freaking out here!’ said Sharav.
Paul was laughing and getting acquainted with his watch, which was called Hugo.
‘Paul,’ said Hugo the watch, ‘please wait for an incoming message.’
Paul tilted his watch towards his face and suddenly a projected hologram of a friendly middle-aged man appeared a few feet in front of them. The man was smartly dressed, had a tanned face and grey hair, with deep lines near his mouth when he smiled.
‘Good morning you three,’ said the hologram. ‘Happy Christmas. I realise this is probably a little strange, but please bear with me. My name is William.’
Sharav leaned over to see where the face was coming from. He waved his hand towards the hologram and his hand passed through it. He looked at Paul’s watch and saw that the hologram was projecting from the strap.
Paul managed to say ‘Hi,’ while staring open mouthed at the man in front of them. ‘Can you see us?’
William laughed, ‘Yes I can see you, there is a camera built into your watch. What is your watch called?’ he smiled.
‘Hugo, I think…’ said Paul. ‘We also have Arlo and Lucille.’
William smiled again. ‘Interesting names. We let the watches pick their own names. Artificial intelligence is a wonderful thing. But just to reassure you, I am a real person and I’m speaking to you from London.’
Paul and Sharav looked at each other.
‘Anyway, I realise that this is a bit odd. Sharav, would you mind pointing your watch towards your face so I can see you also? Great, thank you. My name is William and I work for a secret government agency called MI2. As you know, you have responded to the call to join us. I’m delighted with that. Thank you. I’ve heard great things about you all and we really could do with your help.’
‘Do you not stop for Christmas?’ asked Paul.
‘We don’t get great holidays here at MI2,’ smiled William. Also, there are some operational pressures on the service currently, that have required us to accelerate our recruitment process. The threat level has increased, so only a short Christmas lunch for us here at headquarters. Anyway, I know Natalie and Rob filled you in a bit about MI2.’
William continued, ‘After your training you will be asked to engage with operations where you will have to use your new knowledge and skills. We
can guarantee excitement, hard work and at times, danger. However, we can monitor where and how you are through your new watches. Whether you join up or not is a very important decision and could alter the direction of your lives. Are you sure about this?’
Paul answered quickly, ‘I’m sure. Happy to get started as soon as we can and get down to headquarters. Wherever that is.’
‘Okay great. Does everyone else agree?’
Sharav and Rachel nodded and smiled nervously.
‘Good stuff. Okay we are based in London. It’s probably best that you use the cover story of joining the Territorial Army. We can supply all the paperwork. Any questions?’
The three of them shook their heads.
‘Okay then, Enjoy the rest of your Christmas and I’ll hopefully see you soon.’
5
Taken
The police had visited Karen Fox a couple of times to gather information about Michael Fox and had filed a missing person’s report. Karen had become quite distressed and had stopped sleeping, so Paul organised a visit from the GP who prescribed medication to help her sleep and to calm her anxiety.
Paul had spent most of Boxing Day and the day after pacing up and down his room desperate to get to London and help find his father. He was surprised that his mum agreed to them joining the Territorial Army. Mrs Fox had phoned Michael’s brother, Stewart, to ask his opinion, and after the phone call she relented saying that it was probably good for them to keep occupied. Sharav had no problem getting permission from his parents who agreed that a bit of adventure was always a good thing.
On 29th December they were at Edinburgh airport. They were asked to bring as little luggage as possible because everything they needed would be supplied at the MI2 headquarters. They expected to find themselves on an economy flight, however they boarded what looked like a private jet.
‘Posh,’ smiled Paul as he reached up to put his hand luggage in the overhead compartment.
The cabin was kitted out with eight expensive leather seats, four tables and high-quality HD televisions throughout.