13 August 11 The wall clock chimed seven a.m. Time flies when it doesnt really exist, said Bea. Shutting a British history book on India, Bernie chuckled. Funny. Alice bit a cracked nail. Shes been strangely metaphysical of late. So boring. Ive always wondered…why was it that you lousy Limeys always wore red uniforms back in the day? asked Bernie. English Civil War, said McMaster; Alice added: Venetian red wool fabric was cheapest for a government contract. Typical. So you rapscallion Colonial Rebel turncoats could rudely call us lobsterbacks, of course, snapped Bea. He shut the book. Made for easy targets. I find it interesting that British MI6 used to be called Marine Intelligence 666 during the age of high-seas piracy, which greatly alarmed the devil-fearing Spanish. Then the British East India Company used opium and slave sales to expand your infamous empire. McMaster cleared his throat. Yes, well we Bea laid both hands on the desk. Look, Brigadier, hes the best soldier Ive ever seen.Courageous, mechanical-minded, a good shot, and deadly with a knife. He can fly a bit, and understands an aircrafts engineering. A motorcar thief too. Read lots of old unsullied books in the mosques and libraries of Timbuktu, and speaks Berber. Smart as a whip, street clever too, and with an appetite to learn more and more. Steady. Strong as an ox. Best leave out the jail bit. I like him already, said Bernie, feet up, not bothering to remove his eyes from a classified textbook on archeoastronomy, a difficult discipline. Is he handsome? asked Alice. Bea eyed her. Shut it. McMaster picked up the phone. Well, were short on trained personnel, and