Doctor Who_ Trading Futures - Lance Parkin [11]
The machine gun was turning automatically to face him. It stood out against the snow, it was black, on a tripod. He could hear the bullets clattering against the armour of his tank. He shifted the steering column, and found himself moving towards the nest. He pushed the stick forward, and found himself accelerating. Part of the display started flashing with the message that his main and secondary guns were malfunctioning due to enemy fire.
His tank continued towards the nest. Whatever he did with the stick didn’t seem to make any difference.
‘What are you doing, Sutcliffe?’
‘I’m – I’m doing all I can, sir.’
The tank hit the machine gun nest, and tipped over. Fitz wasn’t sure which exploded first, the tank or the gun, but whichever it was, one completely destroyed the other.
The screen went dead, the only thing remaining on the display on the goggles was the clock – showing 19:10.
The usher came over. ‘Unorthodox, but you got rid of that nest. Here.’
He handed Fitz a five hundred Euro chip.
‘Er, thanks. Is that it?’
‘Until they drop another tank in the area. Report back on,’ he checked his list, ‘Friday at two.’
The Chinese girl was smiling. Fitz went over to her.
‘Another great day for democracy and freedom.’
‘I try to do my bit. I’m Fitz Kreiner.’
‘You’re German‐English?’
‘Er, I suppose so. I don’t really think of myself like that.’
The woman smiled forgivingly, and Fitz wasn’t sure why. Did she think he was a simpleton?
‘I mean – my parents were German. But I was born in Britain. Went to school in Britain. I think in English. I think.’
Fitz caught himself wondering what language the Doctor thought in.
‘Everyone thinks in English these days,’ the woman assured him, ‘it was easier teaching the rest of the world English than trying to teach American or British kids other languages.’
‘Er, right. Can I, er, get you a coffee or something? My shout?’
She checked her watch. ‘Nine‐fifty. I’ve got ten minutes to kill, so why not?’
* * *
Ever since the Doctor had warned Fitz about the soldiers, Anji had been on the lookout.
They were surrounded by people, any of whom might be secret service types. She looked around. Well – she could probably rule out the young family immediately adjacent to them. And the pensioners in front of them.
Or perhaps that’s what they wanted her to think.
The Doctor had twisted the catches on the briefcase, claiming that was what James Bond did. She’d seen the film, and found herself flinching, expecting the case to explode in his face.
This was not a normal reaction to have, when faced with a briefcase.
‘You were reading the Financial Times earlier,’ the Doctor said quietly.
‘Yes. I was trying to get some context for this US/EZ situation. I watched the TV news last night and I couldn’t make any sense of it.’
‘And what did you find out?’
‘There’s a power vacuum in North Africa – a couple of the old regimes collapsed. It’s right on the EZ’s doorstep, so they don’t want refugees coming over – or anyone setting off ABC weapons, whatever they are. The US see it as a whole new market, and strategically important. Well – it’s access to Africa, the Mid East, southern Europe…’
The Doctor nodded. ‘I’d gathered it was something like that. So both Zones have sent in peacekeeping forces?’
‘Yeah – and both are meant to be working together, but they’re actually competitors and they know it. It’s not a war yet, but both sides are taking up positions. And they both know that the person who starts it will have an advantage.’
‘When you finished with the paper, you put the share pages in your bag.’
‘Er… yes.’ She knew what he was going to say next.
‘You’re planning to use the knowledge when you get home.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘I don’t think there are any DTI regulations against it. And I don’t see what harm it will do.’
‘You’d use the knowledge for personal gain?’
‘For the gain of MWF, I suppose. I mean, I would gain, obviously.’
The Doctor raised an eyebrow and was just about to say something when,