Intruding

It occurred to me that, if I was caught, it wouldn't be easy to explain why I was there. Here I was, wandering round a derelict site. In a suit.

At least at this hour in the afternoon I probably didn't look as suspicious as I might at night. What would I say if I was caught? "Er, it's OK officer - I'm just checking out something that a strange woman told me last night in the pub. Look, she gave me this watch as proof..." Hmm. Maybe not.

I put the watch back in my pocket.

I'd examined it endlessly: the small crack in the glass, the tiny MADE IN USSR on the face, the old pitted chrome of its body. I'd tried winding it up and I'd tried moving the hands, but the winder wouldn't budge. It remained stuck and stopped.

Although I'd instantly recognised it from my dreams, it meant nothing to me in relation to my real life and memories.

I edged round a corner, and facing me I saw an alarm unit. Kate's words came back to me: if you go round the back wall of the neighbouring building, you're in a blind spot as far as the security cameras go. You'll see what look like sensors, but they've been out of action for weeks now. For a secret organisation, the security can be pretty slack. When no-one comes calling they get complacent, you see.

Just as she'd described, in the gap between two buildings, there was a heavy-duty perimeter fence. The building where I was headed was on the other side of that fence.

Follow the fence along for about 20 feet, Kate had said. You'll find a gate. It shouldn't be locked - but if it is, get out of there fast. It'll mean they suspect a leak. I mean it. Just go.

I reached the gate. It was, as she'd said, unlocked.

I stepped through.



Story begins here.