A/N: As I write this, I am on a train hurtling south, bound for Kings Cross. I have coffee, I have my laptop and I have the latest edition of New Scientist. In fact, over all, the journey has been very civilised so far, despite having to drive from Hull to Doncaster in order to get the train in the first place. In fact, the most stressful part of the day has been trying to programme my sat-nav. (A Christmas present shortly after I passed my driving test. My mother is apparently under the impression that I couldn't direct myself out of a paper bag. Rather unfortunately, I suspect she's right…) I did make the mistake of stopping at KFC for lunch, and am now paying the price. Not only does my stomach hurt from the sheer quantity of fat and salt and additives I shoved into it, but I spent £3.39 on a meal that I only managed to eat half of, despite catching up on both lunch and breakfast.
But I finally have time to finish that chapter I promised you. Of course, I won't be able to upload it until I get access to the internet again, but that's really not a problem for you as you're reading this after the fact. It has blatantly already been uploaded, and So, here you are. :)
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing that you recognise.
-o-O-o-
Emily slumped, the file dropping listlessly from her hand. "I'd been trying not to think that," she said quietly.
"There's no point ignoring it," said Matt, harshly. "It's hardly going to fix itself if we ignore it."
"I know, Uncle," said Emily, bowing her head slightly.
"How do we know who it is?" asked Tom with a frown.
"We need to work out when the information started," said Alex. "It seems to get more and more sporadic the further back we go, but it's hard to tell with it sorted by topic rather than date."
"Well, we'll get it into order, then take a look," said Wolf, quickly clearing the table by the tried and tested method of dumping everything in the corner.
Ten minutes of flurried activity later, they stopped to look at the once again clear table. The documents had been pegged to string that now zigzagged the room. In fact, Alex could barely see the other occupants through the cloud of paper.
"They've got quite good info of our formation," commented Emily, frowning as she looked at the cluster of papers that marked the start of the resistance.
"Not surprising," said Alex, waving away her concerns. "You were trying to gain members. You were approaching people and you weren't organised enough to hide your activities properly. You'll notice their level of information drops off almost immediately after you finish actively recruiting."
"Here," said Yassen, reaching out to touch a point on the string.
"Are you sure?" asked Matt, frowning. "That patch is fairly sparse."
"I'm sure," said the assassin calmly.
Alex frowned and moved over.
"Why-? Oh."
"Oh?" asked Emily, frowning at him. "What's the matter?"
"This is the first document since your beginning that has information that was recent at the time the document was dated," said Alex.
"I… don't get you," said Tom, frowning. "Try actually making sense."
"Here," said Alex, moving back down the line. "Look. This document shows detailed information on your plan to blow up the train tracks that they were using to supply the front. It's not dated, but don't you think that if they had had that information before the attack, they would have stopped you?"
Emily frowned and nodded slowly.
"And here," said Alex. "This document is actually dated after the one Yassen pointed out, but it was put here because this is when the information was relevant."
"So what we need to know, is what happened around that time?" asked Ben, slowly moving from where he had been leaning against the wall.
"It was well before we got here," commented Wolf, peering over the spy's shoulder. "Three weeks to a month before, I reckon. So what significant events occurred around then?"
"We could be looking at someone getting promoted," said Alex. "Or a new member. Anything really."
"I know what it was," said Matt, his face growing cold. "It was when I was captured."
For a moment, there was silence, before Alex let out an explosive breath and began quietly cursing. Another moment saw him sitting down against the wall and burying his head in his knees.
"What's up?" asked Graham, frowning.
Alex simply shook his head, leaving it up to others to answer.
It was Wolf who finally took the initiative.
"When Matt got kidnapped, Emily temporarily took over the resistance. There are changes whenever someone new comes to power, especially something as fluid in organisation as this. The amount of changes in standard work and access is going to be phenomenal, even if it was unconsciously done on Emily's part."
"Emily, Matt," Alex began, finally looking back up, "We need you two to trade information – discuss who was doing what under your commands and who changed ranks or jobs. Then we need you to cross reference it with the information they have to determine who had access to it and who could have gained access even if they weren't supposed to."
"Right," agreed Matt, with a short nod. "Come on, Em. We'll work on it in the attic; then we can get rid of this bloody string."
Alex sighed as the two began to untie the string and its contents.
"I need coffee," he muttered, sourly.
"Ran out yesterday," said Tom. "Wolf finished it off."
"Bugger."
-o-O-o-
They spent the rest of the day sorting through documents in the Strategy Centre, every so often sending a stack up to Emily and Matt to add to their timeline, but when evening rolled around and dinner consisted of pasta and tinned tomatoes, Alex realised that supplies were going to become an issue incredibly quickly unless they did something about it soon.
"How do you normally restock?" he asked Emily, idly moving the pasta around his plate. He admitted that Sabina had done a fairly decent job, given the supplies she had, but he had been rapidly becoming sick of pasta anyway, and this was just taking it a step too far in his opinion. He speared a piece and shoved it in his mouth, trying to ignore the slightly rubbery texture that pasta always had.
"Well, the women can call into the shops and use their rations for some things," said Emily. "And they were growing some things in the garden, as well. But most of the time, we sent out a group of men at night to go and steal supplies from a military depot."
"That would explain the over-abundance of oats," muttered Snake.
"You know where they are?" asked Alex, ignoring Snake.
"Of course," said Emily. "I'll show you on the maps after dinner."
"Good," said Alex. "Now, here's what we're going to do…"
-o-O-o-
It took four days to scout out the depot to Yassen's satisfaction. They pinpointed where the food was kept, along with several other useful areas such as ammo and weapons and, at Snake's insistence, medical supplies. They also noted the loading bays. Convoys arrived once a week, according to Emily. Thankfully among the little written information they kept, was a detailed timetable for when each nearby depot sent out supplies to the front. They didn't want to raid it on a night when workers would be crawling all over it to prepare the next transfer.
In fact, if Alex's plan worked, they wouldn't need to be anywhere near it.
-o-O-o-
George was fairly new to his job. He'd been removed from the front lines when he'd received a bullet wound to the knee. Now, putting any weight on it caused him a tremendous amount of pain and so he'd been declared unfit for active duty.
He wasn't complaining. Sure, he'd done his bit for his country, but he'd never been one of the gung-ho, joke-cracking soldiers who seemed to spend their time drinking alcohol they weren't supposed to have and taking pot-shots at anything that moved on the battlefield. Most of them died on their first attack, but he'd never really mourned the loss. They reminded him far too much of the jocks who had bullied him mercilessly in high school.
High school never ends.
He had, however, been transferred rather than removed from duty completely. And really, he guessed he was rather lucky to be given the job of a truck driver rather than stuck behind some desk somewhere or in a warehouse or factory. At least this way, he got to move around. Low risk, high mobility and relatively easy: yeah, he was fairly certain he had hit the jackpot.
He'd just stopped by the depot to load up, but the boys at the warehouse had simply waved him back into the truck when they saw his crutch and done the job on their own. He'd happily cranked up the stereo and let them get on with it.
Suddenly, there was a bump on the side of the lorry and he felt panic flash through him.
He hadn't run someone over had he? But he couldn't see anyone. Oh god. What if it was a kid? And he couldn't see them because they were too short?
He hastily pulled the truck to a halt and opened the door.
There was a woman lying on the ground a few metres back.
He paled and hurried to her side, ignoring the pain in his knee.
She looked pretty, though her face was mostly concealed by mud. All he could tell was that she had red hair, and a cut on her forehead.
"Miss!" he called. "Miss, are you ok?"
"She's fine," said a voice from behind him.
Quickly, he whirled around, falling backwards as he came face-to-face with a young man standing just a foot away.
"In fact," said the young blond with a slightly manic grin, "She's in a far better position than you. Thank you for helping the resistance."
He was about to protest his innocence when the young man struck. The last thing he saw before blackness consumed him was the pretty woman standing up and grinning at the blond.
He hoped he wasn't going to get fired for this.
-o-O-o-
A/N: And just because the universe enjoys tying up lose ends as much as the rest of us, I am finishing this while hurtling north.
Well, I say that. I'm actually sitting on a train that was supposed to leave at half eleven. Within the next ten minutes I shall be hurtling north. I hope. So, did you all like George? :D I just thought I'd throw him in there. :) I like George, and do, I admit, feel a little sorry for him. He didn't deserve to come up against Alex.
So, any more theories on who the spy is? :D I'm not going to tell anyone if they're right, because, yeah, I don't give away my plot. But have fun guessing!
As always, reviews are love. :)
EDIT: of course, this is actually being posted at 3 o'clock the next day because I didn't get back to four in the bloody morning! Essentially, not only was the train delayed by an hour, but the motorway was closed. I was decidedly unimpressed.
But you all want to review and cheer me up, right?