Part Nine: Running before time took our dreams away.
Sasha Marx was behind the desk, conducting a cursory websearch focused on the man who was now effectively her prisoner.
"Your tweets are quite political, David," she observed. Her tone was neutral, so initially Cutter wasn't sure how good or bad that was. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa.
"Yeah, well, it's been a bit of a year, hasn't it?"
She shook her head.
"Everything is politics. Thomas Mann. But your own leanings seem curiously...ambivalent. Tell me, were you one of those very public remainers who secretly voted for Brexit anyway?"
He stared at her.
"Why the Hell should you care how I voted?"
"I don't." She shrugged. "But that's an interesting answer. Something else is puzzling me, though."
"If it's the stuff about theme parks, blame my wife and daughter."
"No," she said. "What I don't understand is how a man who doesn't seem to care less about technology becomes the CTO of AktionHive."
David Cutter laughed.
"Oh, great. I suppose you're going to hit me with a ton of glass ceiling bullshit. Fair enough, then. You're right. I shouldn't be here. My job should've gone to...I dunno...Celia Fuckpants. Truth is, I've been here just over a year, barely have a clue what I'm doing most days, and would jump at the chance to hightail it out of here. Especially today."
Sasha raised an eyebrow at him.
"That's fascinating. You're possibly the second most ineffectually tortured man I've ever met. In different circumstances, I'd probably headhunt you myself, and keep you as a pet."
Hans came back into the office, making Cutter twitch.
"We've got a lead," he said.
"Ryland or Cade?" asked Sasha.
"We think Ryland, but she's mobile. And Cade followed our intrusion here with one of his own. I've called Gary, he's on it now."
"What?" asked Cutter. "What's going on?"
"Time for some choices," said Sasha, shutting down Cutter's PC. "Was Taylor useful?"
"Very," nodded Hans, "But Mister Routledge is something of a spare wheel, I think."
"Agreed," said Sasha, smiling. "Something he'd be the first to admit." She turned to Cutter. "For reasons you won't immediately appreciate, we're going to move your first meeting with your new intern up the schedule. For a carrot, we can promise you some answers, and a field trip."
David Cutter had already decided that he didn't want to know the nature of the stick.
Sara Ryland paid the taxi driver and joined Dikas at the front door.
"You said a cottage,"
Dikas put the bags down, and fished in his pocket for the keys.
"Did I exaggerate? It's a conversion. The owner warned me he'd had some work done."
Sara turned slowly, taking in the full extent of the landscape.
"My God, you can even see the white horse from here!"
"Indeed. The view has not changed. I believe we have close on a thousand acres, if exploration's on your mind."
She tapped him on the shoulder, making him turn.
"There's a keypad," she said.
"Yes. Don't worry, I have the code." He found the right key and turned it twice in the lock, making the keypad light up. "Here goes." He punched in a six digit sequence then pressed the enter key twice. "We have thirty seconds," he explained, pushing the door open.
"To do what?" asked Sara, following him in.
"To enter the next code." He pointed at the panel on the inside wall.
"What happens if you don't?"
"Three very negative things," he said, entering the new digits. "Including..." He paused as the lights came up and various doors automatically unlocked. "Well, never mind."
Sara shut the front door and stared at the building's interior.
"You know I'm going to ask, right?"
Dikas hefted the bags.
"He's not here, Miss Ryland."
"Is he en route?"
Dikas led the way through to the next level of the property.
"In a way, Miss Ryland, we all are, don't you think?"
To be continued...
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