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Chapter Text

Neil lay silently in the grass.

It was incredibly peaceful out here. Bird song - was that a skylark? Wind rustling through the corn. Hot sun on his back. The sound of some animal rustling through the undergrowth.

He took a swig from his water bottle, and nibbled at the energy bar.

Come on Mr Rabbit. Just scamper out, and he would try another shot. His bow was set, and he just needed to see if his aim was right. It had taken some doing, finding a spot where he could take aim, be concealed and not utterly uncomfortable.

The rabbits had paid little attention at his feeble attempts at shooting so far.

Marshal was trying not to crack up laughing. Cheeky bugger - his gun looked much more likely to get them something for the pot. He had said that Neil could swap after lunch, and have a go with it.

Meanwhile, it was great to see how relaxed Marshal looked, laid back in the sun, nibbling on a piece of corn.

Yeah, this place was all about the nibbles. Huh he could think of some things he wanted to nibble right now.

Shut up brain. Uhh nope that was a distraction from another annoying piece of anatomy. A wave of lust right at the wrong moment.

Fuck. He has missed again.

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- so, you think I should dye my hair brown.

-yup, it would help. Camouflage.

- and okay, that is an extremely serious looking gun you have there.

- yes. If we are to "solve" these cold cases, we need to take out the criminals we find.

- are you saying what I think you are.
- oh definitely.

- And .. You want me to learn to use a bow? Seriously.

- yup. Kill them with a bit of old fashioned technology. Something that forensics won't pick up on, even if they ever find the bodies. But actually, the whole point of these cases you have found me . Missing persons - where we are killing the murder/ rapist / pedophile / kidnapper. Where we are rescuing the victims for "welcome to the afterlife".

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- okay, okay you win.

- have you ever skinned a Coney? Or got a camp fire going. Look, dig a hole there. Peel the turf off in an area around ** put it to one side, and damp the soil area. Put the hearth stone in - we don't want a fire after. And the stones that make the sides which we can lay the kettle on. Make sure we have enough air flow through. Lay the kindling down. Crumble the fire lighter in. A few smaller pieces over, and the paper. Got that. Light your match into the tin with the candle, that way you only need one. Use the taper, carefully does it. Blow on the flames, carefully.

- That's now lit. You can now add a few pieces of charcoal. Gently does it. A few more - and now check the retaining walls. Right.

- Now fill the kettle and get the water boiling. A nice cuppa whilst we gut the Coney. Spit it. Set it up to broil and wrap the potatoes. Corn. There you are.

- Ahhh. And come here. Let me have that - what was that you were muttering about nibbles?

Oh God. He could feel that. Fuck fuck fuck.

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It was warm in the sun.

Marshal had spread the blankets out anyway. I fell back onto it, and lay there helpless before him.

I felt him tug my belt loose. A hand reached to pull offending garment layers out of the way.

-Nibbles, eh? You want to be nibbled.

-yes.

I gasped and submitted to his skilled tongue. Was there anything he did not know how to do to perfection? I was soon a complete mess of quivering panting thrusting up into his hot mouth.

Afterwards, I stared up into the sky. It seems I must have dozed off in the sun.

-soups up.

A mug of hot broth was handed to me.

- thank you.

He handed me a piece of flatbread, and a plate of meat, corn and mashed potatoes. Slightly spicy, with herbs mashed into it. A cup of mint tea. A pot of yoghurt and some sort of tomato dip he had somehow or other found in his back-pack. .

No, there was nothing he could not manage to perfection.

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Neil walked up to the windmill. He checked the number against the map. Yup this was the correct on.

As he had got closer, he started to appreciate quite how tall it was. So, the idea was to practice shots from this platform. As for the so-called noise pollution that had been used to justify the climate deniers? What nonsense. It was an awe inspiring sight and the plantation around it had worked in integrating the ecology of the area.

Apparently the farmer had signed up to an eco-forestry regeneration plan. Each windmill had been used to plan the whole layout, with soil type analysis done as they laid the foundations, as well as heat pumps being laid into the ground, and less cement by settling the struts deeper into the soil. There was a bunch of other stuff done. The lines of trees appeared random, but incredibly diverse. Someone had put a serious amount of thinking about all this. There was a huge greenhouse apparently set in the neighbouring basin, and he was growing salads using the power generated. With hot water pumped in, and uh huh. Wow.

So, it was actually saline, used as heat exchange, evaporating and creating a super-saturated atmosphere that "rained" when the sun went down. Plus a sewage system that was taking the urine from the workers and using that as the liquid gold needed. The brown stuff was better dried and used as low grade soil improver in the contaminated soil area.

p>Marshal said that the run-away was apparently working round here in the agricultural work-force, and that this is where people had been disappearing. These were itinerant workers, often without legal status. No signs that the farmer intended to abuse his work force. In fact quite the opposite, but he was dealing with a situation beyond his control to fix.

As it was, it seems the farmer was working hard to try and treat his workers in a humane way. Giving them the chance to build a secure future. With new homes, supplied with heat, light and the opportunities to work towards shares in what they were creating.

Marshal also wanted to get him working on his upper body strength. So so boring, he had said. Until Marshal had shown him a reason for better abs. Apart from how apparently this would help him as being "archer man" , which had got him aching in places he did not know existed.... Marshal had got him aching and throbbing in other, sweeter ways.

Marshal clearly had this down pat. The way he could hold himself over him whilst teasing his way in was devastatingly effective. Leaving Neil a shuddering mess.

- hey darling. You ready for that climb?

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Neil looked out across the river.

The perspective from the windmill was astonishing. He could see a line of trees, growing as a windbreak. Beyond that was a stream, that was clearly only there during the flood season, and then the deeper river cut into the landscape. Other flood water pools mixed within the dry landscape, until in the distance he could see two huge mountains to the left, and another to the right. In the gap, a lower ridge further away. The sun was obscured by the dark and threatening rain clouds.

He was glad that Marshal had got him fit, as running for shelter had not been compromised by his heavy load. This one was right on the edge of the windfall in this windmill.

He was going to be here for some time, as the amount of heavy flooding - a swarm of water was spreading out over the landscape.

He was also glad of the lessons on meteorology, teaching him how clouds like that meant serious time to pack up kit - and the wind just before the rain hit. But somehow out here, well it was not many years ago that this had been a desert, with flash flooding and soil erosion. This is on the borders of where the eco-agriculture had its effects. Now the floods are bringing the land back to life.

.

Good grief, was that really Marshal in a canoe, heading his direction. Seems he would not be alone after all.

Ah, it seems he was stopped. Looking into the water. There was a swimmer out there! A flash of body - wearing some sort of camouflage wetsuit, that blended them into the reeds perfectly

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Good grief, was that really Marshal in a canoe, heading his direction. Seems he would not be alone after all.

Ah, it seems he was stopped. Looking into the water. There was a swimmer out there! A flash of body - wearing some sort of camouflage wetsuit, that blended them into the landscape perfectly. The water - sky reflections - glistening strange colours. Random spring floodwater growth was going crazy. Reed beds were turning into the base of homes for a swarm of migrating birds. Honking geese dabbled in mud patches. Ducks - so many sorts of ducks. Teal. Mandarin. Mallard. A scent of wildflower - there was a whOle different atmosphere to the place.

Except there was something odd looking about them. Then I realised. They were a mermaid. That was not a wet-suit, it was a blended mass of swirling colors - orange and blue blending through purple and green. A tail that they were using to hold themselves upright in the water, with one hand gripping the rail of the boat. Marshal had just got drenched. Oops he looks a bit annoyed. It seems the mermaid is off-balance. Oh - they were missing the other hand.

Marshal is clearly discussing the injury. The mermaid is pointing back towards where the dredging machines were working. He looks pissed off. Fangs glisten in his mouth, and his gills are working hard.

He dives back in. And Marshal shrugs at me, turns and paddles off. Should I go down and help? I think so.

. I did not even know mermaids were real. Is this a leak from another universe, a retrograde escapee or am I hallucinating?

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This really was the sort of sweet time he never expected. Marshal had taken him off to the market, bartering like a native in some foreign language.

He could see now why he had encouraged Neil to dye his hair, as the blonde locks would have really stood out. All the time outdoors had tanned him into not looking his usual pale look, and Marshal looked remarkably comfortable in his strange clothes.

Okay - he was convinced. The head scarf and long flowing garments really did turn out to be cooler and more comfortable, as long as he kept on drinking water. They also gave him some erotic ideas. Hmm. the local culture was apparently not a place to be caught expressing them. Okay fair warning.

Baklava. Mint tea. Kebab. Yoghurt raita. And bread. Though Marshal had warned him the fresh salad from the stalls - as it might be washed in unhygienic tap water.

The beggars. The noise of constant hooting. The way that you had to just walk across the crazy traffic. And the river. Wow. The Western tourists, including women dressed in what was totally socially unacceptable. Blithely inappropriate - he had seen the disdain in the faces of native men.

Marshal had surprised him taking his hand, but had explained physical displays of affection between men was absolutely normal, not a sign of being gay and they could not go sticking tongues down each other's throats. But running after the buses laughing as they leapt for it, clambering through the minutes. Crashing into each other in the tube and giggling at it all. Sure why not? the stunning modern tube under the dust and dirt. Wow.

They did play a bit of tourist. Mind, he just had to see the pyramids. So they bribed their way in the "back entrance" which phrase had them in fits of giggles ie through the fence. Then Marshal had insisted they go to Saqqara.

And on the river. That...

Somehow or other, he had convinced the gondalier to rent him the boat. And showed yet again that remarkable competence.

The water rippled peacefully as they slid gently down the river. Women washing the clothes waved hello as they got closer.

- You just fit in so well here. It's like you are a native.

Marshal laughed.
- no, but my childhood was not so very different. And I lived here for several years after the war. Now pass me that - and keep an eye out for anyone heading this way." He pointed at the spear. The boat had glided to a halt. Marshal stared intently into the water then suddenly jabbed. To Neil's amazement, it did not take that long for their boat to fill with a number of fresh gleaming fish.

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They pulled the boat into Saqqara.

Marshal quickly sold most of his fish, gutted two and got them back fried by the street vendor. Hot fresh fish was a pleasant addition to the bread in a myriad forms.

Yes it was obvious now- the American accent was a trained 'face' which had faded away. Underlying it all - this was a skilled infiltrator relaxing into the environment that had shaped him.

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It was good to be back in England, even if miles from home. , Neil thought. Though so so cold. His eyes were watering, almost blinding him, and he was kinda glad at the hacked off fringe, as his hair was still going bonkers in the wind, even under the beany hat and scarf. His feet hurt in his new boots. But at least they were dry and warm. The two sock trick was helping, mind. He really appreciated that bit or advice from the old lady in the shoe shop, when he said he would be walking a long way in them.

How much further , he wondered? He certainly had got off at the wrong stop, but the temptation to get that "Breakfast from 6am" fry-up had its bonuses, as at least he had a good hot meal inside.

Anyway, he needed somewhere to stay tonight, and the room was small but cosy. An en suite bathroom had really surprised him. It also meant he could leave most of his stuff there, which otherwise would have been even more of a nightmare. It was a place that clearly catered for the local labourers, with a huge mug of builders tea, and enough food to feed three of him. So, he had shoved the leftovers in a box for later, and stuffed it in his trusty rucksack.

The farmland stretched around him - a twisting narrow lane that had mud and the odd bit of spilled fruit and veg splattered from the heavy traffic. Thick blackberry bushes, or low ditches where the open sky and flat landscape showed how this was estuary land, often below sea level, and at high risk of flooding and land loss. He could hear in the distance the occasional sounds of rocks breaking off near the tidal lagoon.

Ah here it is. .

An entrance on the right, with a sign hanging "farm shop" . The yard was pretty empty of customers at this time of day, but he could see a set of huge greenhouses - and agricultural machinery of the sort he had worked on. Bingo. So, it was somewhere around here that he needed to go.

-"Can I help you?" The man peered suspiciously at Neil.

"I was looking for Stephanie Wilson"
" Friend of hers ?" Neil nodded awkwardly.

-" Uhh yes. Well sort of. We went to school together. I remember seeing these in her photos on Facebook"

he pointed at the machinery. " I 've been working fixing them on my gap year. For World Vision. "

" oh go inside - office is that way. Interviews start at 10. You will have to wait though. "

-------

He handed over the folder he was clutching; CV, the newsletter + laminated photos of him tinkering away. It was clearly a very different setting.

-" You got references from this lot? World Vision. Never heard of them. "

" It's a Christian organisation. Raising fund for projects abroad. "

The eyebrows said it all. bloody do-gooders. "Huh prayers don't fill bellies" he muttered. Now Practical Action, that would have been different.

" Email will work fine, though the response will be the central office, not the staff out there. They don't pass things on directly. And - there is a phone number for there too, though it goes into their fundraising offices. I don't have a direct line or anything, but they should be able to show I was working for them."

"Second reference? "

" Umm. Stephanie Wilson? She works here, and we went to school together. Would that do?"

"maybe as a character reference? You close? "

" Not really, no. I did the stage lighting and stuff at school, we both helped out tutoring some of the other kids. She might not even remember me. Uhh, it's how I found the job - I lost my phone, and was looking at her Facebook."

"Get a new one, boy".

------
Oh no, he thought " Get a new one boy" echoed through his head. This is not going well.

" oh I have.. But, anyway I knew she worked here Seemed a workplace was a good place to start tracking people down , you know".

He looked awkwardly to see how this went down- like the Titanic. He stuttered on with his explanation.

"I have lots of experience on farms. Been picking fixing up stuff - wiring and the like, irrigation systems, I was setting up the lighting rigs , and doing the wiring round the new school we were building. Mucked in planting, and picking in the harvest season. Got the controls in for the irrigation system when they dug the new well. "

.....

His confidence built up as he described the hard, but rewarding work he had done. The man started to look more interested, thank God

" So.. I really need a job - did not get paid really, the last year. Just food and boarding. Had to cover my own travel expenses. I really think I could be of use to you. "

The man sighed. " okay. Look, that stuff you did at school? What was the teacher's name, that would make a far better reference."

"Ah, thanks, sure. But try not to laugh. It's a bit of an odd name. " he coughed nervously. "Mr Wankling" .

The guy laughed.

"Seriously? I can see why you don't write that on your CV. As for Steph, well - she's out back, but you won't be allowed in. Comes out in soon. She works the night shift.. Bus stops there." The man points across the road.

He looked more closely at the CV. The surprise on his face showed. . Huh, that's actually not bad for a change, he was clearly thinking. " I will give that to the Boss, "

" Keep your phone to hand. He might actually want you. . "

Neil nodded awkwardly.

-" uhh, sorry to be a nuisance, . But umm . I have not got a printer to hand. Don't want to lose the photos either. "

The man sighed."sit down, I will show him this, and see if he is interested in seeing you now. Save you the walk. Actually you might be of some use, unlike the useless numpties from the job centre" . "Oh and do you speak any other languages? Our workers come from all over.

"

"uh yeah, Estonian and French. A smattering of German too. Thanks"

-----

The actual interview had passed in a blur. Clearly Neil had impressed. Especially when he demonstrated that he really did speak Estonian.

Can you do a work trial? Right. Where you staying? Oh that's no good. You already paid - too bad. Rate is £6 40. We can stick you in the site caravan tomorrow, if you are any good. Talk to Maureen - she will get you a meal ticket, and your uniform. Make sure you watch yourself going in - we need no seeds on your shoes.

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Neil lay on the bed, exhausted.

Thanks hands-free and Alexa.

"Call Marshal" .

"Hi, it's me. I am in the Rose and Crown, it's 7:30 and I was wondering if you could join me. Rather in need of a massage and some TLC.

------
Half an hour later, there was a knock on his door, and the door handle turned. A familiar face looked round at him.

"I have run your bath for you, darling..... "

Wow.

-----

The massage oil was amaaazzzing. The scent from the bath had totally got him feeling ... well. How does Marshal do all this. Think it might have had peppermint in it? So was everything else. Having to be as quiet as a mouse made the sensations even more stunning. The bed was remarkably high quality for such a rough looking place in the midst of nowhere. And Marshal had surprised him yet again with a platter of delicious food. Must have got it whilst he was soaking those aches away.

" I wont come next time - you are now run out of slots. "

" really? Won't come... can't I do something about that. // ah but you wanted to be in on this job. Come on, I knew it. " .

"Ugh okay. So. You want to go to sleep, now?

Nah, I'm good. Anyway, she is still there, though I have not met her. I guess you knew all that. So, I had a work trial today, which ended up with me doing picking and packing. But they are taking me on mainly as a technician, as we expected. I think today's 's labour was mostly a bit of a test to see if I was too soft for them. Also, wanted to see how well I got on with the mixed bag of nationalities.

She works nights - at least this week. At least two people know I claim I went to school with her. They are (assuming they want me back) putting me in one of their caravans tomorrow. Though I don't see why I cannot keep this room for the foreseeable? Assuming you are staying for a bit. So...

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-So, you want me to set these up, and you are going to sit in this nice, cosy room and watch the monitor?

-yup. Why do you think I was able to get here so fast.
- ah, it's a time pincer job. So that's why they were not surprised to see you here. Marshal smiled up at him. "Go on. Have a look in the wardrobe".

" blimey, where did all of these come from?"
" Next year, darling. You are going to set the fashion world on fire, love".

He fingered the beautifully cut suits.

"Wow".

- who is going to do the actual extraction. " oh you are, darling. I am back-up and liaison with your get-away. You are going to love this. Call it a taster of your adrenaline love affair. But for this job, I have the perfect solution.

Marshal smiled broadly at him. "You have to have dropped it, remember? No spoilers, but ... just feel it" .
His jaw dropped." That is Steph? God I thought she looked familiar. "

Anyway, time for a day at the races, and a jaunt to the seaside. I need to introduce you to a few people, and show you off, darling Neil.

---
Goodwood. Fast cars. Loads of people in outrageous 1930s fashion. Very very fast cars, driven down from all over the place. A private estate. And an aerodrome , with helicopters and light aviation. A smattering of private jets. Serious amounts of money washing round the place.

Good grief. One minute he is sleeping in a caravan with ten other farm workers. Now he is mingling with the one percent.

It's a good thing that Marshal had come down with his snazzy suits, flash car and stuffed wallet. Insisted he would be spot on, with his year abroad passing as a tan from his leisurely time abroad, and that he could spin his knowledge of the places he had been.

Also, one too many vodka tonics and the unshaven look would go down well with the right people. The lessons on flirting - well it was just so darn fun, watching the way that the pulse rate went up as he stared a moment - and then grinned, stared again. Let himself blush and flutter his eyelashes. Pout and lick his lips. Move a little too close in the crowd. Sway into the target and stumble.

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- a camel ride oh God

I was talked up onto it. Yet again Marsh Al showed his true colours as he took control, and lead us into the desert. We had joined a caravan of travellers - and he had passed the boat on as some sort of exchange. It seemed he had not actually hired it as such. More bartered it. Ahhh when money is in notes worth So little that a stack comes out to be buying water I never knew.

tent under the stars. Brilliant cold and beautiful scenery passing by. An oasis. Dates. My love laughing and gesturing -

Rifles slung loosely. A shot rang out. Meat burning over a fire pit. Water pouring over us. My senses filled with those by now familiar scents. Glad of the few scattered words he first taught me, and my sharp brain turning this code into more fluent phrases.

Being brought things to repair. Watching bright eyes peering at my skilled hands at work. Thanks indeed. Toasting each other's health, holding hands. The women shyly coming to the circle round the fire then dancing - provocatively - enticing retreating modesty intact. Us laughing. Elbowing each other and giggling drunkenly. Retreat into draped and carpet tents rolls .

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Alexandria
Tyre
Bagdad

Silk road
Constantinople
Tibet
Syria

Ah: real world inspiration. Thanks, I had actually forgotten about the Suez Canal.

Seems there is very very ancient canals. Long site up.

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Maps
Compass
Camel
Caravan

------
Okay: too tired to write this.
Still no idea how to import pictures

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"We appeared to be paralleling an old canal" .
" Get into the idea of 'something old when your prophet walked amongst us.' That canal was built as an irrigation scheme the same time as they put those up." His hand pointed into old, tumbled walls - a huge set of columns - statues - yet more ruins looming up over us.

" what's that?" Still: gleaming machinery appeared out of the dust storm.

"it seems 21st century man is thinking at last. " "yeah guess some serious money is being thrown at this region. Money men spreadsheets say fix that please, and a bunch of ignored projects suddenly get their funds."

I could see that. As the cost of the blockade - and the long term implications of another one had made it apparent new routes was essential.

Marshall had sat me down in front of a map, showing me how a whole area that put the previous eco-experiments I had seen could be dealt with and put to shame at their small scale ambition. Get these canals working, but make them wider and more able to flood the plains around them? Millions of acres? Incredible amounts of land transformed. Re-terraforming. That was the phrase being bandied around. Feed water, sewage and power to this area, ship in serious minded mentors, and turn bored kids into the next generation using workshops where they could make a difference.

There was team's of people out setting up diggers to rebuild it. Ah ..

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It was a dark, foreboding looking sky. I had come back to the farm, as it was my only idea of where to go looking. No, he did not work here this summer. Or indeed really seem to know who I was talking about.

The room in the pub was available, and they were glad to see me. I suppose they would: we had spent a lot of money over the years. At least they had not forgotten me, so I had not fallen into a time-loop where we had never been. Though I did not actually ask them if I had been with someone else. What would I have done if they had told me I had always stayed here on my own? That thought giggled at me, as I ordered my dinner to be sent up, and settled down for a quiet evening.

Not much fun on my own, but a bath was still something to be appreciated. Every time I heard a car pull up outside, it was hard not to hope for a knock on the door. My ears pricked up at a step on the stairs, but it was just my dinner. Maybe he would come some other way, and try to catch me unawares. For him to just waltz in unannounced would not be so surprising.

I was not really expecting it, though. It seemed pretty certain that I had lost him for good this time, and that dreaded silence at the end of the day was all that I had to look forward to.

Sleep came fitfully. I tossed and turned, remembering previous visits. There was no-one to crowd me against the wall this time. Noone to bring bags of delightfully cut items, then casually rumple them out of shape. Noone to come up with wickedly inappropriate methods of lifting items. Noone to help me boost cars, or plant wicked ideas in some monster's head, and watch the consequences. .

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This is authors notes - I want go back and describe it better, but this is not plot or dialogue.

When I was staying in Cairo, I walked. You get used to (and I do it now, too much) to just getting to the side of the road at Tahir square. (Just down from the hostel),and walking straight across a crazy mix of cars. Having and fighting their way through. Cars and taxis full of people.

Constant noise.

Taxi. Cheap.
Small miinivbuses - which stop. You get on, and pass your fare to the nearest person, who passes it forward to the driver. They go some sort of locals routes. We used those.

An incredibly modern underground. We used that. Got off and wanted round places.

And then there are the buses that never stop. I just did not think could get. On and off, in my clothes. So, so hot.