The Suicide Exhibition: The Never War (Never War 1) by Justin Richards Page A

you,’ Brinkman said to her. ‘You can leave us now.’
    ‘Sir.’ Eleanor James nodded to Brinkman and the woman with him, and let herself out of the hut.
    Wiles straightened up. ‘I’m giving it all the time I can spare.You really don’t need to check up on me, you know.’ He nodded deferentially to the woman. She had been before, but Wiles didn’t immediately remember her name either.
    ‘I’m not checking up on you,’ Brinkman assured him. ‘Though I have brought you more data.’
    ‘Another trace?’ Wiles peered over his glasses excitedly. ‘Excellent – data is what we need. The more the better. We can compare and contrast, look for patterns, clues, fragments…’
    Brinkman opened his briefcase and removed a folder. Wiles all but snatched it from him. He opened the folder and tipped out the papers inside, spreading them across the desk. He pushed his glasses up his nose again as he inspected them.
    ‘This is tracking information?’
    ‘From the Observer Corps,’ the woman said. He remembered her name now – Manners. ‘The other sheet gives RADAR traces.’
    ‘What do you think?’ Brinkman asked.
    Wiles answered without looking up. ‘I think you’re a very impatient man. I shall have to study these for a long time before I know whether there is anything to be learned from them. Gleaning that knowledge will take even longer. And with the amount of other work that Fredericks and his lackeys are foisting on me I wouldn’t hold out too much hope for a swift response.’
    ‘Don’t worry about Fredericks,’ Brinkman told him.
    Wiles snorted. ‘Easy for you to say. It’s not your neck he’s breathing down. Proverbial dragon, that one.’
    ‘You no longer work for Fredericks,’ Brinkman said.
    Wiles looked up sharply. ‘Does
he
know that?’
    Miss Manners checked her watch. ‘He should have been informed just a few minutes ago.’
    ‘From now on, the UDT transmissions are your number one priority,’ Brinkman said. ‘In fact, they are your only priority.’
    ‘But what about my other work?’ Wiles protested. He kicked at the papers he’d earlier dumped on the floor. ‘Enigma? And the other stuff? I’ve got a bombe run scheduled in about half an hour, you know.’
    ‘Not any more,’ Brinkman said. ‘From this moment, you work exclusively for Station Z, you understand?’
    Wiles sniffed and frowned. ‘Well… I can’t deny it’s a challenge.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Yes, a real poser, this one. But to be honest, even working full time it will take a while to crack the transmissions. Even if we
can
crack them. I say!’ He looked suddenly startled as a thought occurred to him. ‘Do I have to move out of here?’
    They all looked round the hut – papers piled precariously on every surface. A blackboard was covered with tiny chalk calculations, some underlined and others crossed out. Books lay where they had toppled across and from shelves.
    ‘You don’t have to move out,’ Brinkman said, to Wiles’ evident relief. ‘And you can choose your own team.’
    ‘Team?’
    ‘Within reason,’ Miss Manners said quickly. ‘Three assistants and a runner. Maximum.’ She glanced at Brinkman, and he nodded.
    ‘And Fredericks has agreed this?’ Wiles shook his head in disbelief.
    ‘I’m not sure “agreed” is exactly the word,’ Brinkman said. He turned as the door to the hut slammed open so hard it hit the wall behind. ‘Ah, looks like you can ask him yourself.’
    When Brinkman and Miss Manners disappeared inside the hut, Sarah made to follow. But Guy stopped her.
    ‘They’ll spot us straight away.’
    ‘Maybe that’s the best thing.’
    ‘That and a court martial.’
    ‘We’ve come this far. I want to know what’s going on.’
    ‘Me too,’ Guy told her, though he was no longer sure it was true.
    The door of the hut opened again and a woman in WRENS uniform emerged. She glanced at Guy and Sarah as she passed, but made no comment.
    ‘Let’s try round the back,’ Guy