by Rob Stevens
Archie didn’t see the burly SAS sergeant swing his arm horizontally into his chest but it felt as if he’d run into the bough of an oak tree. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet, which flailed into the air, as his head and shoulders crashed backwards on to the ground. A knee drove into his solar plexus, expelling all the breath from his lungs and a hand grabbed his throat tightly, preventing any more air coming in.
As Archie’s eyes bulged open he recognised the flattened face snarling down at him.
‘Ivan,’ he croaked. ‘You’ve got to let me go. I’m with MI6.’
‘No I don’t,’ Ivan growled. ‘And so am I.’
‘That’s not the real Pravin Malik,’ Archie choked. ‘He’s got a mechanical arm.’
‘Yeah. And I’m Steve Austin.’
Archie looked up at Ivan’s smug grin and frowned. ‘Who’s Steve Austin?’ He felt Ivan squeezing his throat more tightly and the edges of his vision began to darken and close in. Over Ivan’s shoulder he saw Pravin Malik climbing into the ring with Toby Winchester. Through a black tunnel Archie watched Malik duck under the rope, then turn and catch his eye. As the tunnel closed in Archie was sure he saw Malik wink, then for the second time that day, the lights went out.
Archie opened his eyes and squinted into a bright white light. Turning his head reflexively he saw Gemma sitting beside him. He was flat on his back on a bed, enclosed by a plastic curtain.
‘Where am I?’ he whispered.
‘Er, the medical bay?’ Gemma said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
‘How long was I out?’
Gemma pursed her lips solemnly. ‘Two days.’
Archie sat upright and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. ‘Two days!?’ he yelped – then he noticed Gemma’s deadpan expression. ‘You’re winding me up, aren’t you?’
Gemma nodded. ‘About five minutes actually. That SAS guy put you out with a chokehold and St John’s brought you here. Highwater told me to stay with you and make sure you don’t get into any more trouble.’
Archie reached forward and swished the curtain open. ‘Where’s the doctor?’ he asked, scanning the clinically sparse room.
‘He’s ringside,’ Gemma said. ‘In case you’d forgotten, the PM’s son is boxing Pravin Malik as we speak.’
‘Malik!’ Archie exclaimed, sliding off the couch on to his feet. ‘We have to stop the fight.’
Gemma placed a palm firmly on Archie’s chest. ‘I think you’ve done enough for one day. Our orders are to sit tight and that’s what we’re going to do.’
‘But Malik is an impostor,’ Archie insisted. ‘He’s got a metal arm, Gemma. I saw it myself. I think he’s one of Tension’s henchmen or something.’
Gemma listened carefully to Archie’s theory, then touched her earpiece. ‘X-ray to Zulu,’ she said. ‘How’s the fight going?’
Barney’s reply was immediate and solemn. ‘Zulu to X-ray – the panther is hungry but the platypus is elusive, over.’
‘OK, Master Shifu.’ Gemma rolled her eyes at Archie. ‘Is there any chance you can speak in, like, a normal sentence? How is Skywalker doing?’
‘Skywalker’s doing pretty good,’ Barney replied. ‘He landed one punch on Malik’s chin that looked like a certain KO. How he didn’t go down I’ll never know. They’re just about to start the last round. I’d say it’s all square so far.’
Gemma looked at Archie with an expression that said ‘I told you so’.
‘I know what I saw, Gem,’ Archie said sulkily, ‘The guy had some sort of circuitry in his arm.’
‘Maybe it was just a tattoo or something,’ Gemma suggested. ‘But if an assassin was posing as Pravin Malik so that he could kill Toby Winchester, do you think he’d wait until the third round of their match before smoking him?’
Archie shrugged reluctantly. ‘Dunno. Suppose not.’
Gemma placed her hand on Archie’s arm. ‘Everybody makes mistakes,’ she whispered. ‘It’s cool that you were committed enough to follow through on your suspicions.’
Archie pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure Huge Ego will see it that way.’
‘Don’t worry about him,’ Gemma said reassuringly. ‘Highwater will look after you. She may be strict but she’s pretty fair too. There’s no way she’ll hang you out to dry for this.’
Archie thought Gemma was probably right. He wouldn’t get kicked out of STINKBOMB for this, but he still felt sick. How could he have made such a big mistake? Concluding he must have been concussed after all, and imagined the robotic arm, Archie slumped back on the bed, feeling like a total loser.
Just as his head touched the pillow an almighty roar erupted in the stadium outside the door. It was a cry of shock and horror, multiplied by thousands and magnified by the acoustics of the domed roof. Archie snapped upright, the floor almost vibrating beneath his trainers as he leaped to his feet.
Barney’s voice was shrieking in his ear. ‘HOLY COW! UN-BELIEVABLE!’
‘Zulu, this is Yankee,’ Archie said urgently. What’s happening out there?’
‘I’ve never seen a punch like it!’ Barney exclaimed.
‘Zulu, this is X-ray.’ Gemma stated sternly. ‘What happened?’
‘He actually lifted him off the floor with a single punch! I’m surprised his head didn’t come clean off. He flew across the ring like a rag doll.’
‘Zulu,’ said Archie firmly. ‘Who punched who?’
‘Skywalker,’ Barney gabbled. ‘Malik.’
‘Can you confirm that Skywalker punched Malik?’ Gemma said slowly.
Archie held his breath as they waited for Barney’s reply.
‘Negative,’ he said. ‘Malik punched Skywalker. Skywalker is down. I repeat, Skywalker is down.’
Archie immediately made a move for the door. Stepping across his path, Gemma crossed her arms and cocked her head. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘We’ve got to go and help,’ Archie pleaded.
Gemma shook her head emphatically. ‘There’s nothing we can do to help Toby Winchester now. We’re just going to follow our orders and wait here.’
‘But—’ Archie protested, but Gemma cut him short with a death stare.
The two of them stood in silence listening to Barney’s frantic ringside commentary, which came in sporadic bursts like radio newsflashes.
‘Everyone’s trying to crowd into the ring . . . The Secret Service dudes are keeping them back . . . Darth Vader is reaching through the ropes – calling Skywalker’s name . . . The medics are all over him . . . They’re putting him on oxygen . . . The doctor’s checking his pulse . . . They’ve got him on a stretcher . . . He’s on his way to the medical bay.’
Archie and Gemma stared at each other in shock, both unable to speak. Seconds later the door burst open and the commotion from outside poured into the room.
Two burly ambulance men – one bald, one with curly black hair – jogged in carrying Toby Winchester on a stretcher – an oxygen mask strapped over his nose and mouth. Hurrying alongside them was Dr Thomas, his tummy bouncing over his belt as he puffed for air. Immediately behind the stretcher was the Prime Minister himself, Adam Winchester, whose face was slack with worry. The PM was flanked by four plainclothes offcers all talking into hidden microphones.
The doctor ushered the stretcher into a separate room at the back of the medical bay, then turned to address Adam Winchester as he attempted to enter the room.
‘I’m sorry, Prime Minister,’ the doctor said kindly. ‘I need a few moments to examine your son alone. I’ll let you know when you can come in.’
Adam Winchester nodded and stepped backwards out of the room, followed by the bald ambulance man. Dr Thomas closed the door.
Folding his arms tightly across his chest, the Prime Minister started pacing the room, walking to within a metre of Archie and Gemma before stopping. He paused for a moment, catching Archie’s eye briefly, then he turned and paced back the other way.
In that short moment o
f eye contact the Prime Minister had reminded Archie of his dad. Instead of the self-assured leader of the country, Archie had seen a vulnerable human being – a loving father worried sick about his son. But, more than that, there had been something else about him that felt familiar to Archie. Finally, Dr Thomas emerged from the private room and everyone turned to him.
‘Prime Minister, your son is going to be fine,’ he said softly. ‘You may see him now but he is sleeping. He’ll have a headache for a few days but he’ll make a full recovery.’
‘Oh, that’s marvellous news.’ Smiling broadly, the Prime Minister unfolded his arms and entered the private room. As the door closed behind him, one of the undercover officers positioned himself in front of it like a sentry. After a couple of minutes Adam Winchester walked back out, beaming and thanking Dr Thomas for his excellent care.
As he strode towards the exit Adam Winchester stopped in front of Archie and Gemma. Grinning happily he reached out and shook their hands in turn.
‘St John’s does some excellent work,’ he said to Gemma, while he urged Archie to ‘Get well soon’.
Then, surrounded by his personal bodyguards, he went back out to the sports arena where scores of press photographers’ flashbulbs greeted his emergence.
Among the crowd of reporters waiting for Adam Winchester was Barney, busy snapping away.
‘I am happy to report that my son is going to be just fine,’ Adam Winchester announced with a wide smile. ‘He is concussed but he is in very good hands and I would like to thank all the medical staff at this event for the care they have shown him. Now if you’ll excuse me –’ the Prime Minister flamboyantly checked his watch – ‘I have a very busy schedule today.’
Inside the medical bay, Archie and Gemma were listening to Adam Winchester’s statement.
‘He seems pretty cool,’ Gemma mumbled. ‘For a grown-up.’
‘Suppose,’ Archie replied, although something in the back of his mind was troubling him.
In Conference Room 10, at the eastern perimeter of the O2 Arena, Helen Highwater was conducting STINKBOMB’s mission debrief. Although the tournament was still going on and the spectators’ distant cheers were drifting occasionally into earshot, MI6’s interest in the event was over. The Prime Minister had been safely escorted to his helicopter, which had taken him to his next ministerial appointment. Toby Winchester had been taken by air ambulance to the Royal Chelsea and Westminster hospital where he was recovering in a private ward with an armed police guard. The only event that was even slightly out of the ordinary was that Pravin Malik had not been seen since his bout with Toby – but his disappearance wasn’t being treated as suspicious. He was simply presumed to have mingled with the crowd and slipped away, in case he got into trouble for flattening the PM’s kid.
Archie, Barney and Gemma were sitting in a row while Highwater stood in front of them, shadowed by Holden Grey.
‘So, all in all, I think we can declare our mission accomplished,’ Highwater announced, ‘although certain individuals’ actions were, shall we say, somewhat cavalier.’ She glared over her spectacles at Archie, who pursed his lips and nodded.
‘What were you thinking, charging at Pravin Malik like that?’ Highwater reprimanded. ‘It’s lucky Sergeant Small intercepted you or we’d have had a lot of explaining to do, young man.’
‘FIY, Agent Yankee,’ Holden Grey chipped in. ‘You have to be as cool as a courgette in the field or your cover will be blown faster than you can say Dozy Rascal. Do you get me?’
Archie looked blankly at his superiors but his thoughts were elsewhere.
‘Agents X-ray and Zulu,’ Highwater continued. ‘You both carried out your duties to the letter and are to be commended. Agent Yankee, you have left me with the unenviable task of explaining to Hugh Figo . . . why you disobeyed a direct order from your superior.’
Archie shrugged wearily.
‘How can you function as a member of STINKBOMB when you behave so erratically?’ Highwater folded her arms. ‘While your fellow agents are strictly following orders you are charging around like an overexcited bloodhound at the slightest whiff of suspicion.’
‘Yes!’ Archie exclaimed, clapping his hands.
‘Well I’m glad you agree with me,’ Highwater mumbled.
‘No – I wasn’t agreeing with you.’ Archie sprang out of his chair.
‘Excuse me?’ Highwater said tersely.
‘I’ve just realised something,’ Archie explained, holding his palms upward. ‘It’s been bugging me for ages, then the penny dropped when you mentioned the whiff of suspicion.’
‘Spare us any more of your wild accusations, Yankee,’ Highwater sighed.
‘Please just give me thirty seconds to explain,’ Archie pleaded.
Highwater relented, looking at her watch. ‘Thirty seconds.’
‘When Adam Winchester entered the medical bay, he came over to me and I caught his eye,’ Archie explained excitedly. ‘I felt weirdly close to him. Then I realised he really reminded me of my dad.’
‘How touching,’ said Highwater. ‘Twenty seconds.’
‘I couldn’t work out what it was about him that was so familiar,’ Archie continued. ‘But I’ve just twigged why. He smelt just like my dad.’
‘Well, they’re both busy men,’ said Highwater dismissively. ‘It’s no surprise if they both suffer from a little body odour on occasion. Ten seconds left.’
‘Not that sort of smell,’ Archie sighed. ‘They use the same aftershave. It’s called Distinction.’
‘So they have the same taste in cologne.’ Highwater smirked. ‘I’d characterise that more as a coincidence than a threat to national security.’
‘But after he’d been in to see his son he smelt diferent,’ Archie said forcefully. ‘He was wearing some kind of aftershave . . . but it definitely wasn’t Distinction.’
Highwater had stopped counting and her mouth remained slightly open.
‘I know politicians are vain,’ Barney piped up. ‘But what kind of person bothers to spray on new aftershave when he’s visiting his son in the emergency room!’
‘That’s not what happened,’ Gemma said flatly.
‘Er, the dude came out smelling totally different. Where have you been for the last few minutes?’ Barney shook his head disparagingly. ‘Do pay attention, Agent X-ray.’
‘Gemma means there’s another explanation,’ Archie reasoned. ‘Remember Mr Grey saying that when someone tries to hide their identity there’s always something that gives them away? Well in this case it was the Distinction.’
‘I see.’ Barney nodded sagely. ‘Meaning what?’
‘Meaning that the Prime Minister that came out of that examination room was not the same one that went in.’
‘If you’re right, Yankee, this is serious,’ Highwater announced gravely. ‘But we need more evidence before we can act.’
‘I’ll go and check Malik’s locker,’ Archie announced. ‘If I’m right I think I might find the real Pravin inside.’
‘I’ll go and scope out the examination room,’ said Gemma.
‘Good,’ said Highwater. ‘And Zulu, I want to see every single photo you have of the Prime Minister.’
As Archie turned to leave, Barney grabbed his arm and whispered, ‘This is so weird.’
Archie nodded. ‘I know. It’s almost unbelievable.’
‘How long have we had two Prime Ministers?’
Archie studied his friend’s blank expression for a moment. ‘We don’t have two Prime Ministers,’ he said slowly. ‘The one who came out of the medical room and is now running the country is an impostor – a double. I think we misunderstood Evelyn Tension’s plan from the start.’
‘Go on,’ Highwater encouraged.
‘We assumed Tension was planning to kill the Prime Minister’s son to punish him for making her give up her family to become a Scalpel.’ Archie scanned the expectant expressions in the room. ‘But I think Adam Winchester was her target from the start. She just
used Toby to get the PM on his own so she could make her switch. I have a horrible feeling she’s actually planning something bigger – more devilish than assassinating his son.’
‘Such as?’ Gemma enquired.
Archie puffed out his cheeks and pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘Who knows? If she, or one of her cronies, is pretending to be the PM then there’s no limit to the mayhem they could cause.’
‘Give us a worst-case scenario,’ said Barney.
‘Never mind worst-case, I’ll give you a realistic scenario,’ Highwater interrupted. ‘If you’re right, then Evelyn Tension has untold military power at her fingertips. A single command from her and we’re talking about the end of the world.’
When STINKBOMB regrouped, the conference room was filled with an air of urgency.
As expected, Archie had found Pravin Malik inside his locker. He was groggy and confused, and apparently had no recollection of anything that had happened that day. Archie had left Malik in the changing room accompanied by two paramedics and an MI6 agent who was waiting for the all-clear to question the kid.
Gemma’s trip to the medical bay had proved equally interesting. Dr Thomas was nowhere to be seen. What she had found, however, rolled up and stuffed into the bottom of a medicine cabinet, was one St John’s Ambulance uniform – men’s large. Hidden inside it were a curly black wig and a fat-suit.
‘Ten quid says our friendly Doctor Thomas was wearing this under his coat,’ Gemma announced, dropping the padded leotard on to a desk.
‘Another tenner says he wasn’t a real doctor,’ Archie agreed. ‘And that wig looks suspiciously like one of the St John’s Ambulance guys’ hairdo.’
‘Hair-don’t, more like,’ Gemma sneered.
Barney had plugged his digital SLR into a laptop and was studying the screen as his photos appeared.
‘Radical,’ Holden Grey said, squinting at the screen. ‘How soon can you display them chronologically in the order they were taken?’
‘Done,’ Barney replied clicking the mouse. ‘They’re split into two events. Before the PM went into the medical bay on the left, and after he came out on the right.’
