It had been weeks since they had been to Colin’s house, they had been avoiding the place, and in particular, the basement, since their collective run-in with the law.

Colin put his finger to his lips as he opened the door, the men all looked at each other puzzled but stayed quiet as Colin went from room to room placing hefty wooden boxes over lamps, radios and the kettle. He eventually finished his mysterious actions and held his finger up again, this time fishing an odd handheld device from underneath the cooker, he fiddled with the dials and peered at a wobbling needle on the thing for a few seconds before saying, “Right, that's the bugs covered up, we can talk again.”

“You're not serious?” Guy asked, frowning.

“Deadly! Not only are there seven listening devices in the house but worse than that, there were only six two weeks ago.” He raised his eyebrows at them, “That means something surely? How many do you guys have?”

“Erm…” Nik and Rich looked at each other and shrugged. “We didn't have a way to check.”

“Really? I hope you’ve been keeping quiet then!”

Guy laughed, “I doubt I have said two words in my house since they broke in. I may have whistled a few times but they might as well be listening to the moon.”

Colin turned to Rich, expectantly, “Hey, don’t get big-headed, we certainly don't talk about you when we’re at home!” Colin kept giving them the same look, “Well, not much, and nothing incriminating… Maybe some stuff about your taste in women, but nothing you could get arrested for.” He shared a look with Nik, “We did talk about the…you know, with the erm… yeah, remember?” Nik nodded and shrugged, “Yeah, your right, you couldn't be arrested for that though, judged, ridiculed, blackmailed perhaps but not arrested.” He turned to Colin, “We’re good.”

“Hmm, fine. Anyway, I have something to show you.” He opened the hall cupboard and pulled the carpet up before lifting the entire floor out of the cupboard and setting it aside. “I extended the tunnel. It's a little rough. I could do with some more sheet steel and box section.” The truth was, he had been working on the tunnel extension for months and had just rushed to complete it. He reached up above the cupboard door and removed an old kerosine lantern and a pack of matches. “And I may need to repurpose some of the lights in the shed.” He lit the lantern and lowered the hissing light down the hole on a rope. “Careful of the ladders, especially where the two join.” Then he disappeared down the hole.

Guy shrugged and climbed in after him, the walls of the hole were bare earth with chicken wire covering it and steel tubing holding it from falling in. It was far less comforting than the solid steel construction of the shaft in the shed. The ladders were lashed with rope to the steel tubing which braced the hole and met clumsily in the centre of the shaft, their rungs not quite matching up.

Nik and Rich followed once they were sure Guy was at the bottom, “I know he isn’t going to steal our teeth, but this is the stuff of nightmares.” Nik said, not appreciating the smell of wet earth that permeated the tunnel.

“Harden up buttercup.” Rich said from above him, “I guess he doesn't close the hatch anymore?” He muttered, looking for a way to hide their descent. He gave up and simply pulled the door closed behind himself.

Once they were both at the bottom they hurried along the passageway which had been paved with wooden pallets and walled with the most random-looking assortment of pit props, some of which had obviously been things like children's bikes in a previous life. The only light came from the original passageway twenty yards away and the hissing lamp which they had left below the ladder. Nik was right, it was a nightmarish setting. They sighed in relief when they entered the well lit, solid passageway leading to the basement workshop.

“I was just saying to Colin, I might be more inclined to provide him some steel now that I know he isn't picky.” Guy had spotted a collection of old steel chair legs welded together on the way past. “I have that crash damaged truck cab and my collection of dented sidecars that he can have. I might even have some rusty scaffolding tubes.” He looked around with a frown, "Though why he can't just use bricks like any normal person I don't know."

Colin's mouth dropped and his eyes glazed over, he gave a little 'oh' and sighed before shaking his head as if to clear it, "Erm, yeah... bricks that's a good idea, but let's listen to this recording, I'm sure there must be something worthwhile on it." He said quickly to distract the men, he brought out the machine and hooked it up to the stereo system before cranking the volume up really high. "I think we should hear it a bit better, this amplifier is pretty powerful."

Unfortunately, though the speaking was actually loud enough to hear, the background noise was at times, almost deafening. At one point a seagull squawked and it shook the room. It did make hearing the conversations easier though.

"He is saying something about pushing them too fast, not enough time for testing?" Guy was actually transcribing the audio to paper and he was fairly good at it. Colin was glad of this, his German wasn't great but he could make out obvious words like bombe which had been pretty much all he was listening out for.

"Hey, was that a truck? Yeah and footsteps." Nik said, perking up, "It's a Mercedes truck, two-axle I think, no more than ten tonnes." Men started speaking on the recording again.

"How could you possibly know that?" Colin asked incredulously.

"They have the distinctive hiss from their air brakes and that whine from the turbo. Also when they got out the door latches made the Mercedes clunk." Nik replied easily. Guy and Rich nodded in confirmation. "You hear a lot of army trucks in our business."

"Is it big enough for three decent sized bombs?" Colin asked.

"Depends what they were, I mean, they have bombs that way ten tonnes each but I doubt they used those ones. In fact, one tonne of explosive would probably be enough so yeah. Possibly." The words came out of Guy's mouth without him really engaging his brain, he was still scribbling down the conversations. "That said, if they can teleport things fast, I would just use a load of small explosives like the ones you've been making Colin, just scatter them through the facilities."

They heard a door open and close and a new voice came through the speaker. "He said twenty-minute cooldown. I guess that means they can't send loads of small things through then, not unless it's like a machine gun, keep firing until it glows red and then wait a few minutes."

"It's still nothing definitive, nothing incriminating. I mean, it sounds like it could be this time machine teleporter your German scientist talked about but it could equally be something else entirely." Guy said, willing the men on the other end to speak plainly. They didn't though and the truck drove away leaving them fast-forwarding through silence again.

The recording was almost finished when they got their smoking gun, "Stop, replay that bit. I'm sure he just said explosion." They listened to the muffled words again, then once more. "I think he is saying 'they have confirmation of the explosions, they have to take us seriously and give us funding now.' Something like that. Now he's saying 'is that man committing suicide?'" They all looked at Colin who shrugged. Guy continued, "'He is, he looks like he is going to jump, we should get someone over to the school now.' interesting." Colin looked sheepish as they all heard thumps and clunks and a ratcheting noise which was obviously him removing the bolts before the recording cut off.

"Well, I guess I need to talk to the resistance," Colin said, ignoring the smirks on the other men's faces.

***

Although he said he had contacts in the resistance, actually Colin just knew a couple of old school friends who had let slip their part in making things difficult for the occupying army. He had never taken much of an active role, happy to supply a few bits and bobs when his friends had asked, he gave one of them a lift onto a job site one time, but he had never done anything big. This time, however, it was important. What made it worse was knowing that at least one of the people he knew had already been arrested by the Jacks, he had no way of knowing who else may be under active surveillance.

Getting a message to the right people was going to be difficult. Doing it without the Gerry's finding out might be impossible.

"So, I went to the shop where Gordon's sister used to work but she quit last year. Samantha is apparently in jail, according to her ex-flatmate, Trudy is married with children and isn't willing to speak to me even if it's just to point me to another contact." Colin ranted as he compressed a tiny spring into a small housing. "The only other person I know that is in the resistance is Luis and he was the one who got me detained just for speaking to him at the bar. I'm fairly sure he's in prison too." He screwed a cover over the completed mechanism. "So much for supplying explosives, what do I do with all the mortars I made?"

Rich glanced at the rack at the back of the room, the explosives did worry him, although Colin assured them they were stable he still felt vulnerable every time he was down here. Especially when he was making sparks with a grinder. "It would be nice to pass them on." He muttered. "Remember Arinder? She was two years below us in school." He asked, seeing the blank look on Colin's face he continued, "Well, back then everyone thought her dad was a terrorist, erm… sorry, in the resistance."

"Do you know her well enough to ask?" Colin asked, strapping the thing he had just made to his wrist.

"Nah, Nik went out with her a few times back in high school though. He might be willing to have a word." Rich just hoped she had forgotten why they had split up.

***

"She slapped me and told me if I ever spoke to her again she would remove certain important parts of my anatomy!" Nik said, cringing at the memory.

"Yeah, but that was years ago, surely she would have gotten over it by now?"

"That was six months ago in the pub!" Nik exclaimed.

"Oh yeah. I guess dating her sister and claiming you thought it was her might have left a lasting scar." Rich said, laughing.

"Hey, I could ask her sister. You don't happen to know her name do you?" Nik asked sheepishly.

"You went out with her, twice and don't even know her name? You cad!" Rich was loving this.

"Honestly, I thought it was her. I wasn't even drunk, I swear I even called her Arinder all night. It's entrapment!" Nik wailed.

Rich laughed, "Mate, Arinder is their last name, people use it because their parents gave them really long first names. I think her first name is Ambatteleigh or something. Her sister's name begins with Daji I think, I'm pretty sure some of her friends used to call her that." The look on Nik's face was priceless.

"Okay. Surely she knew I was her sister's boyfriend though? How was I to know she had a sister?" He stopped, a look of understanding creating onto his face. "Oh, yeah, she didn't mention me and we had never met. Okay, perhaps I did deserve that slap. They were identical though."

Rich gave him a long withering look, "Identical… twins?"

"What? Really?" Nik's brows furrowed, "Why wasn't she in our class at school then?"

"I heard their parents were paranoid and sent them to separate schools in case something happened. They wanted to minimise the chance they could lose them both." Both their thoughts went to the WRI bombing and they lapsed into silence.

***

Colin was sitting in a wicker seat outside a small bakery, enjoying the sunshine and a very nice Bakewell slice whilst waiting for his pot of tea to be delivered.

“Is it seat taken, young man?” Asked a distinguished elderly man who was quite obviously a war veteran. The gentleman was wearing a black eye patch and appeared to be missing his left hand.

“Not at all, help yourself.” He said, expecting the man to take the chair to the crowded table a short distance away, instead, the man sat down.

The man introduced himself, “Carton de Wiert.” Offering his remaining hand to shake.

“Colin,” Colin replied, shaking the proffered hand, the man’s grip was firm.

“It is a beautiful day to enjoy the sun is it not?” The man had a distinct twang to his upper-class English accent, Colin thought it sounded vaguely South African.

“It does make you appreciate what we have left.” He replied as the waitress arrived with a large pot of tea and two cups along with a very nice looking neenish tart for the elderly man.

“If only we had a time machine.” The man said, with a definite inflection, “All the things we could change.” Colin’s hand froze unconsciously with his fork halfway to his mouth. He quickly recovered and carefully finished his mouthful before giving the man his full attention.

After a few more seconds of silence, he said carefully, “The thought is nice, as long as it wasn’t in the hands of the government, I don’t think I would trust them to use it responsibly.” The man gave the slightest nod. “Mr de Wiert, erm... can I call you Carton?” he continued without waiting for an answer, “If you don’t mind me asking, which side did you fight on in the war?” He started pouring the tea as the man considered his answer.

“Carton is part of my surname, Call me Adrian, since you kindly offered your first name. I have always been on the side of Britain, in every war I have fought.” He gave a sly smile and lowered his voice, “As I still am.”

Colin nodded, “Alas, it appears we are stuck on a one-way road, forever going forwards, the only choices possible being the destination we aim for.” He was trying to be vague, though he was mostly sure the man was a resistance contact; he didn't feel safe speaking in such a public place.

“Very poetic, it appears our government has its sights set on the east though. I would very much like for them to stop sending our war efforts there, this country has been bled dry over the last half-century or more. The last thing we need is more war.” The man sipped his tea, Colin was wishing for a proper signal, a funny handshake or something, he still wasn't fully convinced the man wasn't a random stranger making political small talk.

“Yes, but you could get in a lot of trouble for suggesting the bombs would be better spent on the people sending those poor men to war.” He took another fork-full of the Bakewell slice and savoured the sweet flavour. Sugar was an extravagance few could afford nowadays and he was making sure he enjoyed every last morsel of his crumbly raspberry pastry.

“It seems we are in agreement." The man savoured a bite of his tart, "Mmm, such a treat, I must admit, I borrowed the ration stickers from my friend Mr Arinder. I just felt the need for something sweet. I'm sure he will let me pay him back with a few drinks down the club. Are you a member of the social club Colin?" When Colin shook his head the man smiled, "Come down on Tuesday, I can sponsor your membership."

Colin almost sighed in relief, the message finally spelt out. He would be there, and hopefully, they could have a frank and honest discussion with someone who might be able to help.

They finished their tea with genial conversation. Carton de Walt was a fascinating man who had fought in almost every corner of the world. He was also a great storyteller and kept Colin entertained well past them finishing the last of the tea.

Colin finally stood and offered the man his hand, "Adrian, I really do have to leave but I'm looking forward to seeing you at the club."

The old soldier stood himself, his advanced age didn't seem to have slowed him yet and he shook Colin's hand with a firm grip. "It will be my pleasure to show you around and introduce you to some people." He said before doffing his forelock and briskly walking in the opposite direction, swinging a cane he quite obviously didn't need.

***

"You obviously got a message to Arinder then?" Colin asked as he sat down beside Nik, once again abusing their hospitality and barging in on their tea break.

"Well, sort of. Did you know there were two Arinders?" Nik asked bashfully.

Colin laughed, having already been filled in on Nik's indiscretion. "Yes, though I have never met her sister."

"Bloody hell, how can it only be me that didn't know!" Nik threw his arm up in disgust. "Anyway, I told the one who isn't out for my blood. Actually, she was quite amused when I explained things to her. We're going out for a drink on the weekend."

"You dirty dog! I'm happy for you Nik, it's been a while since you had a date, so long that people have been making aspersions as to your relationship with Rich." Colin joked.

"Who?" Nik asked, mortified.

"Hey, we're in the seventies now, it's a brave new world. Nobody cares about that anymore." Colin replied with a smile. Nik frowned and sulked.

"So, someone contacted you?" Guy prompted him.

Colin held up a hand and took his homemade bug detector out, after waving it about a bit he told them everything that had happened, "This guy fought in just about every battle you can think of and seems to have lost body parts in every single one! Well, he's been injured enough to be sent home each time."

Rich shook his head, "You would think they would stop sending him, hopefully, he gave more than he got."

"The way he tells it he was a one-man attack squad, at least up until he lost his hand, even then he led men and used a hook to allow him to use a rifle." Colin had been really impressed, "If I had time I would really like to make him a prosthetic, he actually only lost half his hand and all his fingers so I'm fairly sure I could make a wrist operated hand."

The men were then lost down the rabbit hole of imagined gadgetry, discussing mechanical advantage and phalangeal motion for way longer than their break should have allowed. By the third mug of tea, they even had a pinned together cardboard contraption that Nik had used to prove the design worked, Colin excused himself and disappeared home with plans to duplicate it in steel in his machine shop.

"I'm telling you Rich, three-dimensional cardboard aided design is the future," Nik said as he left.

***

The club had obviously been frequented by the very rich back in its heyday, now it was well maintained but everything was just a touch threadbare. The carpets were particularly showing their age and someone had placed runners in the most heavily used places to try and prolong their life. The heavy hardwood tables and comfortable leather wing-back seats were still going strong though, the main wear being the lightening of the dye on the leather, the smell of beeswax suggested that it was careful upkeep which prolonged their life.

Colin had been surreptitiously waving his bug detector around whenever he thought people couldn't see, so far he had not found anything. He felt a little paranoid but knew it was better to be cautious.

"And this is the billiard room. It is in the centre of the building so there are no windows to let in sunlight, very bad for the cloth you know." Colin heard the subtext of 'harder to listen in' in the soldier's words. "I have arranged a game for us tonight, I thought you might appreciate that."

"It has been a while since I played, so I may need a refresher." Colin actually assumed there would be little to no billiards played but the man was still not speaking plainly so he played along.

"Not to worry old chap, happy to read you in." Colin suspected the old man was mixing his metaphors.

***

The bar had a better selection of spirits than Colin was used to but equally, they were considerably more expensive.

"There is a very large, very deep cellar, during the height of the war, most of our members moved their personal stocks into the club in case their houses were hit. A large number never returned to claim them so we are still working our way through the stockpile. It certainly helps keep the coffers full." He lowered his voice, "All off of the books you know." He said with a wink, "There are some exceptional ports if you have the funds, the wines are rather top-notch too I'm told."

"Well, I'm glad I walked here," Colin said, gazing wistfully at the whisky.

"Best to save the petrol rations anyway. I walk almost everywhere, helps keep the joints mobile and the muscles pliant." The old man said, puffing out his chest.

"You certainly are spry for an old man," Colin admitted.

"Coming up four score and twelve next month. If I make it." The man said proudly. Colin was impressed, he had seen people twenty years this man's junior who seemed older.

He bought the man a drink and they sat talking until another group of elderly gents showed up. "Ah! This is the old crowd, the men I wanted you to meet."

Colin was introduced but had no chance of remembering names, there were titles too, Field Marshal and Brigadier along with a Captain and a very elderly Second Lieutenant.

"I was demoted. I used to be a Captain, these gents won't let me forget it." The man explained, obviously annoyed at the introduction.

Colin was amazed, "There must be a story there, that's one heck of a demotion!" The man grumbled but wasn't forthcoming.

The men bought themselves drinks, rank didn't seem to play a part in their friendship and the Field Marshal happily carried the Lieutenant's drink due to the man relying heavily on a walking stick.

"Shall we play billiards before we partake in too much drink?" Adrian asked the group, with general consensus they made their way slowly down the stairs to the billiards room. The man with the stick didn't complain and the others genially slowed their pace for him. When they were all comfortably in the billiards room one of the elderly men slid a bolt home on the door with an ominous thud.

"So, what's this about time travel? Load of old cobblers surely?" The captain with a curly grey handlebar moustache asked brashly.

Colin did actually let out a loud sigh of relief this time, he had been getting exceedingly frustrated by all the double talk, "That's what we thought, I mean, I took it seriously enough to look into it but I had assumed it was the ramblings of a drunkard."

"Hold on, take it from the beginning." The Lieutenant told him.

Colin told his story, without embellishment and including his reasoning for drinking at that pub. The men sat and listened quietly, rarely asking clarification.

"Hmm, we were wondering how they got such a large explosive past three different sets of the highest security. You say they can't change the past?" The field marshal asked, it was the first time he had spoken since Colin started his spiel.

Colin nodded, then realised was expected to explain, "Well, that was what Heinrich was muttering. I would say we wouldn't be here now if they could go back."

"Makes sense. Even so, being able to get men and explosives anywhere and through any security in the blink of an eye. It could be the weapon that earns Germany the world domination it always wanted." The man took a deep sorrowful breath, "Not that I relish the thought of being ruled by Asia either. What a mess the world has gotten itself into."

"So, what do we do?" Colin asked.

"Destroy the facility, hope it puts them back long enough to make a difference. I doubt we could stop this thing, now that they know it works, copies of the design will be in the vaults and disseminated to key facilities throughout Europe." The Captain said, stroking his impressive moustache in thought.

"We do what we can here, pass it to our other cells around Europe so that they are on the lookout." The Field Marshal declared.

"So, you're going to rally the troops? Storm the compound and steal the plans?" Colin asked, bouncing in his seat in excitement.

The men all laughed, "The troops he says! We haven't had troops in decades. After last month's raids, we five are the sum total left of all our resistance cell, the last British war effort in Shropshire. The likelihood of getting anyone from outside is low too so whatever we plan, it has to be possible for a handful of geriatrics to carry out. Preferably without getting caught." The Brigadier told him.

Colin's heart sank, "But what about people like Mr Arinder? Surely you can get them to help?"

"We prefer that they stay silent, take as little action as possible and only feed information up the chain. Without them, we would be blind and fumbling." The Brigadier answered sadly.

"Well, I have some homemade mortars and a bunch of explosives. It would take a concerted effort to take down the buildings with mortar fire, way more than you would be able to do before getting caught but perhaps if we can get some of the explosives into the building beforehand, then the mortar fire would just be for cover." Colin had a very bad feeling that he was about to volunteer for something exceptionally stupid.

***

"It isn't exactly a military-grade explosive. That said, if you put on a structural beam it will definitely take down a building." Colin was showing his homemade bombs to his friends, he had already delivered the mortars and their launch tubes to his resistance friends. "I've put some magnets in them, all the buildings look like steel frame construction, one of the Brig's informants says the steel used to be painted grey twenty years ago so I painted the outside the same, it's meant to look like a riveted steel pad and I’m hoping the colour will match." The explosive did indeed look like a lump of painted steel. "And the outside box works like a shaped charge, directing the blast ever so slightly."

Guy turned the explosive over in his hand, "Where is the detonator?"

"I put that inside, you have to set it with this connector." He pulled out a small display which had a protruding cable with four small prongs on the end which he inserted into a set of holes almost invisible on the underside of the device. The display lit up with four hyphens. "A friend helped me with the electronics."

Rich cringed, "I hope you aren't trusting the wrong people again Colin."

“Hey, he’s solid. He knows me from school and his only contact with the resistance is through me. I’m sure he isn’t on any watch list.”

“Right, so now you just need to get inside a secure compound with a bunch of dodgy explosives and attach them in weird places you normally wouldn’t be sneaking around. All that and get out without anyone suspecting it was you?” Nik said sceptically.

“Yeah, simple!” He took down his unicycle and started doing laps of the underground workshop, it seemed to be something he did when he got nervous.

“So, anything we can do before your great plan is implemented?” Rich asked, needing something to keep him busy and feeling decidedly exposed down in the basement with the hatch wide open upstairs.

“Well, I drew up some better plans for that prosthetic we were talking about, there were some small issues with the model. I’m thinking a mitten would be a good prototype. Less moving parts.” He pulled out a large sheet of paper with an intricate technical drawing on it and spread it on a workbench, then pulled out some steel parts, all whilst still wobbling back and forth on the unicycle.

“Well, if we’re spending time down here I’m off to close that hatch.” Rich climbed the precarious ladder, shut the hatch behind him and was opening the other hatch in the shed when his friends met him coming up the other way.

“Change of plans, we’re having garden beers, Colin’s detector pinged so we may have company soon.

Colin raced to remove the soundproof boxes before they could be found and Guy opened some beers for them in the garden. The Jacks didn’t actually show up but the four men poured over the plans outside happily for a couple of hours.

***

Rich and Nik were sitting happily on top of the tank, enjoying the fact that it finally looked like a tank, they had wrestled the tracks on over the antique running gear which had taken all morning, they had then craned in one of the giant steel boxes that Guy called sponsons, filling one side of the massive gap that had allowed you to see straight through the centre of the machine. They couldn’t put the top or the other side on because they still hadn’t fitted the engine, gearbox and a number of other cumbersome parts. Even so, if you ignored the lack of guns and only looked from the left-hand side, it looked like a brand new tank from the start of the war.

“The end is in sight Rich. It’s a sight to behold.” Nik said, swinging his legs as though he was on a swing.

“I am really proud of this. I think it's the most impressive thing we have ever done. I can’t wait for Guy to come back and see it.” Guy had been on a long trip up the mainland, almost to Scotland to pick up another load of scrap. “I’m hoping he didn’t get detained at any of the checkpoints, that time we were locked up was awful.”

Nik shuddered at the memory, “Yeah, we had two days in that hole even with the proper paperwork. How long should we give it before we go down to the local constabulary?”

“I think we give him a few more hours. I don’t want to draw attention again.” Even after tidying Rich was still finding things that were missing or in the wrong place. “Right, let’s finish the gearbox, I’m itching to finish her now that I’ve seen how cool it’s going to look.”

They gave Guy until four pm, when he still hadn't shown up they reluctantly visited the military police. They were decidedly unhelpful but did promise to look into it. They suspected Guy was in a tiny cell with a bucket and no creature comforts, not even a mug of tea. There was nothing else they could do though so they went home and worried all night. They told themselves that it wasn't just that he was their friend, he was also the man who paid their wages!

He thankfully turned up at noon the following day, bedraggled and tired.

"So, I'm guessing you experienced the wondrous hospitality of a military holding cell? You okay?" Rich asked him whilst putting the kettle on.

Guy nodded, "They didn't like me taking a detour." He sat heavily on the couch. "My own fault, I should have arranged a visit officially but I got carried away."

"You took a detour with a fully loaded truck full of military scrap? Where did you go?" Nik asked, baffled by Guy's stupidity.

"It was honestly just a two-minute detour to check out that train yard. The one that might have had a railway gun." Suddenly Nik felt bad, even though Guy should have known better, it had been him that put the idea in Guy's head. "Anyway, they only kept me in as a lesson." He accepted a mug of tea and a biscuit from Rich and sipped it with a look of bliss.

"Did you get to see it?" Nik asked sheepishly.

"Nah, they pulled me over the moment I left the main road, didn't get within a mile of the place." Guy accepted a second biscuit, having demolished the first in one mouthful. "Anyway, you blokes have been busy. She's looking spiffy! How long until we can drive her?"

"Well, the engine and gearbox are almost together, we can get them in and then get some controls cabled up. Probably early next week." Nik answered, risking a brief glance at the long list of niggly jobs. "Still a lot to do before we button up the last sponson though."

Guy smiled happily and leaned back on the couch, even after a night in a cold cell, seeing the tank come together warmed his heart.