Hugo was right about the night vision. When the lights came back on a few moments later, they revealed a wriggling row of trussed operatives, wondering what on earth just happened. There was quite a bit of swearing until Alain found some duct tape.
‘The best thing about managing this sort of situation in a warehouse,’ he said as he silenced the last of the six, ‘is the availability of useful supplies.’
‘Hurry up,’ said Adrian. ‘There may be more of them in here and we need to find Xavier before they do.’
‘Maybe we should question them?’ said Brontë.
‘That would take time - and there’s no guarantee they’d be honest with their replies, is there?’
‘Xavier must be in here somewhere. Should we wait for him to come to us?’
‘Brontē, if we stay here waiting, we are making ourselves a target. We should keep moving.’
‘Then how are we going to find him?’ said Brontë. ‘Using the comms channel will draw the opposition to us, won’t it?’
’She has a point,’ said Hugo. ‘It will. Maybe that’s a good thing. It wasn’t so hard to subdue these six. Adrian, you and I can pick up the tins - a few dents won’t hinder their usefulness - and Brontë, you run back and collect some more rope. Then we can open the comms. I can douse the lights when anyone turns up.’
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