Tunnels 04, Closer

affects him these days," Dr. Christopher commented. "There's no resistance at all."
    "That's the beauty of frequent top-ups," she replied, as they both contemplated the Prime Minister.
    Dr. Christopher clapped his hands together, then began toward the door. "Anyway, over to you now. I'll be in my room down the corridor when it's time to bring him out."
    "I know where you'll be," the woman said with a beguiling smile, then closed and locked the door behind the doctor.

    * * * * *

    So, if you're right about this and my people are Darklighting someone, what do we do? Rush over to
    Wigmore Street
    and catch them in the act?" Eddie asked. "Then what?"
    Drake considered the situation. "By the time we arrived it will probably be all over. No, let's just hope the poor sap they're brainwashing doesn't croak in the process. I heard it's not unusual, particularly if the subject has a weak heart or a serious medical condition the Styx don't know about."
    "Or pregnant like your friend at university," Eddie suggested.
    Drake shook his head, his expression sad as he remembered. "Yes, Fiona," he said quietly. For a moment he stared at the red dot as it continued to pulse on the map, then he abruptly jabbed the escape key to close the program. "no, there's no time for this right now -- we've enough on our plate as it is. In any case, it's probably just some lowly official having his will bent."

    * * * * *

    The Rebecca twins were seated opposite each other on the bare aluminum benches extending along either side of the helicopter. Accompanying the girls were the Limiter General, and a further eight Styx soldiers, with Tom Cox crammed in at the far end. With all the personnel and their equipment onboard, there wasn't much space left.
    "Door gunner," the Limiter General observed as a New Germanian soldier took his position in the seat behind a large-bore weapon mounted by the main door. "Looks like they're ready for trouble."
    "They're a cautious lot," Rebecca One agreed. "I thought that briefing was never going to end."
    "Buckle up," the pilot shouted from his cockpit, as he worked his way through a bank of switches, thumbing them down one by one. Everyone had tightened their safety harnesses as he hit the last switch and the rotors began to trundle slowly around. They built up speed until the whole aircraft was vibrating like an old washing machine.
    "Here we go," Rebecca Two said, but after a minute they still weren't in the air. And as she peered through the port behind her, she could see that none of the other twelve helicopters had lifted off from the runway either. "Is there a problem?" she asked finally, shouting so the Limiter General could hear her over the din.
    "The motor takes time to warm up," he replied.
    "What an old bus!" she laughed.
    Then as the Bramo engine reached the right temperature, the helicopter juddered and they were finally airborne. The twins were watching the other helicopters as they also began to climb.
    "We're off," the Limiter General said, and the nose of their helicopter dipped. Then they were moving forward, sweeping over the sprawling metropolis.
    Rebecca Two was just gesticulating at her sister to tell her that they were passing right over the Chancellery when an aircraft rocketed past from the opposite direction. It looked like a sleek, black bat.
    "Look at that thing go!" Rebecca One shouted.
    They hadn't seen anything like it on the airfield. It consisted of one large flying wing with no fuselage or tail plane, and from the flames leaping out of the afterburners it was clearly powered by a pair of jet engines. The closest thing the twins could compare it with were the spy planes of the US military -- some of the most technologically advanced aircraft used Topsoil. This flying wing was moving at such speed that in less than a second it was no more than a small dot above the ocean.
    "What the hell was that?" Rebecca Two asked.
    Both the twins looked to the Limiter General for an answer. He was nodding to himself. "I suspect it's a Horten 229 -- built by the Horten brothers for the Nazis in the 1930s, at least three decades before the Americans began to develop their stealth bombers," he said. Although he didn't smile, the lines around his eyes crinkled as if he was amused. "I reckon I must have dented the Chancellor's pride about his air capability, and he's trying to impress with his hardware."
    As the engine powering their helicopter continued to hammer away, they left the airspace above the