Hello, I've written quite a few M. stories but mainly based on the first two incarnations of the team and this is my first based around the latest version. I am not too familiar with the new team but I will try maintain cannon. My style is commonly more toned towards realism and modern day spy fiction
Please enjoy
My alarm began to squeal in my ears as my eyes shot open, a new day but absolutely nothing new for me. I flail my hand around my bedside cabinet, eventually hitting the snooze button. I roll over to get back into my comforting fetal position only to be greeted by the sharp white June sunlight creeping through the gap in my blinds. I groaned aloud as I sat myself upright, the universe wasn't going to let my lie in today. I through over the covers and swung my legs over the side. As I began to get up my feet touched the floor however my wood flooring was seemingly ice cold and the sub-zero like temperature made my feet jump back up, another groan. I slowly lowered my feet back down, easing them into it. I forced myself up and stumbled to the mirror. My hair was sticking up in some of the oddest spots. I continued to stumble towards the bathroom to prepare myself for the day ahead and hopefully wake up in the process.
Afterwards I was found myself stood in my kitchen, staring at two almost identical brands of cereal. I instantly stopped contemplating which to have for breakfast and had a mini existential crisis; I had about 6 a month, which all things considered is pretty good taking into account my track record. This was my life, extravagantly normal, absurdly mundane and had been since I joined this seemingly action packed intelligence community all those years ago. I didn't like field operations, avoided them whenever I could, and I never got to be the hero, that was Dan's destined role in life. In the end however I couldn't complain, it was my decision to stay away from the field and instead held up behind a desk and in my own bubble of absolute security but you couldn't have one without the other. No heroics for me. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, no guts no glory, who dares wins and so on so forth. A desk job with my own specially designed chair for perfect lumbar support and a customised keyboard for optimum productivity. Bam! I snapped back to reality. I glance at the clock; I had spiralled for a good ten minutes, time to get a move on. I through on a suit and grabbed my ID pass. I despised it, they had spelt my surname with one P and they said it would take 2 weeks to get a new one, which was 3 years ago, after the first 4 months I gave up and decided to live with it. I wasn't keen on confrontation. I grabbed my bag and made my way out. After travelling through peak time London rush hour I finally reached my office. Vauxhall Cross.
I entered through into grand marble reception and showed my pass to the heavily armed security guard. "Tom Tuper: Inter-Departmental Communications Liaison." As far as any average Joe was concerned, I was just a Civil Servant, working in IT. In reality I worked as a cyber-analyst, being the go between for all UK intelligence agencies. I made my way up to the fifth floor to my office. Just a desk, a computer, a chair and an artificial plant in the corner designed to make the workspace more homely, without any of the effort of actually trying to keep it alive. As I settled into my chair and switched on computer there was a knock on the open door, I looked up to see Frank leaning into the room.
"Hi Tom," he began as he followed through into the centre of the room, his limp ever present still after all this time, "Have you got the Pendulum report? The boys at GCHQ are getting antsy about it."
"No worries," I answered as I opened up my desk drawer and pulled out a thick file with the title Pendulum on it, with a large red stamp saying CONFIDENTIAL directly underneath it, classic. I passed the file over, "There's just a few more specs I need to touch up and I'll send you a digital copy."
"Great work Tom, as always." Frank said as he made him way backwards towards the door. "I'll catch you at lunch." Frank then slinked away to his office door the hall. Frank was the only one of the old gang I still saw; I hadn't seen the others in months, years in some cases.
I turned back to my screen and opened up the security specs and send them over to Frank once I put the finishing touches to it. I was nothing if not thorough. I went through my emails and checked the news feeds just to check for any breaking stories. Nothing significant but as they say 'no news is good news.' I preceded stare out the window for the next hour and a half, waiting for some to drop by or call up with another case. I didn't exactly have anyone desperately wanting to chat to me. Just as I began to drift over into a day dream staring into the murky Thames river abyss there was a sudden beeping from my computer that made me jump. I sat back down and pulled up the notification. It was my algorhythms, it has flagged an irregularity.
11 months ago I had started my own side pet project, just something to fill the time during a lull of workload. The algorhythms was to detect any funnelling of money from corporations to suspicious accounts, possible shell corporations linked to terror cells and criminal organisations like KORPS or similar syndicates. After some time and the emergence of another scandal surrounding ministers I decided to expand and monitor possible unethical allocations of public fund. 11 months and absolutely nothing, I had almost completely forgotten about it and just it auto run while I carried on. Now, out of the blue, it had identified dozens of tax money appropriations, small and seemingly insignificant transactions that you wouldn't even take any notice of that were even tucked away so you probably wouldn't even be able to notice. The funds were being giving to a sub-committee that I hadn't even heard of. The committee for Security and Intelligence Networking Systems for International Safekeeping and Transnational Ethical Risks, the vaguer and longer the name, the more inconspicuous it became, the name barely made sense as well. I had to get to the bottom of this. Four hours later and I had gotten so deep into data, having even gotten paper records that were buried in storage, and I had barely learnt anything. I had learnt its purpose was to function as some kind of independent watchdog; it hadn't hired or allocated anyone to the committee since its creation seven years ago, it had not published any reports, its funding was exponentially higher than any other committee to date and every time there was a transfer to its accounts the amount in said accounts had gone up beyond what the public money it was being given was, there was no record in existence that noted where the rest was coming from. This was textbook shady, over dramatic movie grade suspicious. I almost instantly made a call to Frank to check if he had ever heard it, it went straight to voicemail. I left a message asking if he had ever heard of this committee and if he could call me back straight away. I then made a call to Stella Knight, the top of the entire service, I needed to get this out in the open and get it out now. I was directed to her assistant and I had left the same kind of message. There was nothing else I could do now. I was so consumed by this I completely lost track of time. It was 4pm and I hadn't eaten, the hunger fit me instantly with the revelation, a late lunch it was. I locked my computer and put my paper files in my safe and went to the canteen.
After getting a cold leftover sandwich and eating alone I headed back to my office, throughout lunch all I could think about this ghost committee. I got back to my office and was stunned as soon as I entered. The place had been ransacked, drawers torn out and turned upside down with papers everywhere; my computer was completely smashed and had been ripped apart. My safe was also lying on the floor, cracked open with brute force and visibly empty. I was in shock, jaw wide open. I turned around to be met by two heavily armed guards dressed head-to-toe in black directly behind me, blocking the exit.
"Hello Mr Topper," the first guards said, "if you please come with us." I snapped back to reality, they stepped back to let me out and began to escort me down the hall, all I could think about was in the moment was their guns holstered to their sides. As I marched down the hall I came up towards Frank's office, I had to do something. I ran forward and cut into his office. Frank was sat behind his desk.
"Frank, you need to help me." I blurted out, waving my hands around in pure distress. "I found some kind of shadow committee, check your voicemail. I discovered them and now I'm being taken away. What's going on?" The guards rushed in and grabbed me by the back of my collar and yanked me out of there and forced me towards the elevator. I continued to yell for his help as I was pushed into the tiny elevator. As I entered I turned to see Frank standing in the middle or the hall along with multiple curious heads poking out to see what was going on.
"I will figure this out. Don't worry." Frank called out as the doors shut and a bag was suddenly thrown over my head.
Please leave some feedback so I can improve the story and if there are any continuity errors with the series. Thank you