The deputy-minister awoke - her head throbbing. There was a banging noise. She sat up in bed and thought - where the fuck am I?

The banging noise started again. The deputy-minister looked around - she was at the minister’s house. In the country. Her head pounded. She looked at the clock beside the bed - 6:15 AM.

The banging noise again. It was the door. Someone was banging at the door.

The deputy-minister climbed out of bed and found a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. She put on the robe, and walked to the door - her head spinning a little. She was still drunk.

The deputy-minister opened the door. A gray man wearing bright red footman livery was standing, holding a silver tray. On the tray was a plate that was covered with a silver dome cover. There was a pot of tea and a tea cup, a milk jug and sugar bowl. There was also a toast rack with several slices of toasted bread arranged in it. There was a silver pot of cold butter, and a silver pot full of sweet marmalade.

‘Good morning deputy-minister’ - the gray man said - ‘The minister is expecting you at 7.’

‘Expecting me?’ - The deputy-minister looked from the tray to the gray man’s face.

‘Yes deputy-minister - 7 AM for the hunt.’

‘The hunt?’ - The deputy-minister said surprised.

‘Yes deputy-minister. The duck hunt. May I?’

The deputy-minister moved out of the way, and the gray man walked into the bedroom and placed the tray on the bed. The gray man walked to the windows and opened the curtains.

‘The minister said for you not to forget your boots, deputy-minister’ - the gray man bowed, and then left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

The deputy-minister went to the bathroom, and splashed water on her face. She then dropped to her knees and vomited into the toilet. The deputy-minister stood up, and flushed the toilet. She ran some more water and filled the glass beside the sink with water. The deputy-minister rinsed her mouth out and stared at herself in the mirror.

‘Fucking duck hunt!’ - She cursed to herself.

The deputy-minister went back into the bedroom and poured herself a cup of tea. She dropped two sugar cubes in the tea, and splashed some milk into the cup. She stirred the tea, and took a sip.

It was quite a night last night. Six bottles of wine, brandy, and cigars. The minister was legless. She was legless. God knows how she got into bed!

The deputy-minister lifted the silver dome covering the plate. Two scrambled eggs, two rashers of crispy bacon, a grilled tomato, and some fried mushrooms.

The deputy-minister thought she would vomit again, and put the silver dome back on the plate. She forced down the tea, and then went to the bathroom and showered.

Feeling halfway normal, the deputy minister dressed and drank another cup of tea. She buttered a slice of toast and ate it. The deputy-minister searched through her purse and found some painkillers. She washed the painkillers down with another cup of tea, and then looked at herself in the bedroom’s full length mirror.

The deputy-minister was wearing olive corduroy trousers, a white shirt, a green cravat, a brown tweed waistcoat, and a gray tweed shooting jacket. The deputy-minister sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on a pair of black wellington boots. The deputy-minister pulled on a tweed flat cap.

‘Fucking duck hunt!’ - The deputy-minister cursed again.

It was 6:50 AM. The deputy-minister opened her bedroom door, and standing opposite against the hallway wall was the gray man wearing the bright red footman livery.

‘If you would follow me, deputy minister’ - the gray man said.

The gray man set off down the hallway, and the deputy-minister followed. The gray man walked down the hall, and then down a long staircase to another hallway. The deputy-minister followed and found herself back at the grand entrance hall.

The gray man opened the front door and held out an arm for the deputy-minister to step outside.

The deputy-minister stepped out of the entrance hall and was met by a group of six German wirehaired pointer dogs - barking and jumping up at her.

There was an ancient dark blue Land Rover parked outside, with another newer light gray Land Rover parked behind it.

The minister walked around from behind the ancient Land Rover. He was smoking a cigarette and drinking from a hip flask.

‘Get fucking down you fucking Nazi cunts!’ - The minister shouted at the dogs.

The dogs quietened down a bit - and left the deputy-minister alone.

‘Good morning minister’ - the deputy-minister said, trying to look and behave normal.

‘I don’t fucking know about you, but I am still fucking wankered. Here - have a nip’ - the minister held out the hip flask.

The deputy-minister took the hip flask - and steeled herself for the alcohol. The deputy-minister took a small swig from the hip flask, shuddered, and pulled a face. She handed the hip flask back to the minister.

‘That’s the fucking spirit comrade!’ - The minister laughed.

The minister was wearing green tweed breeks, a white shirt with a gold tie, a green tweed waistcoat, and a brown tweed hunting jacket. He wore forest green wellington boots on his feet, and a gray tweed flat cap.

‘These are my dogs - I fucking love these Nazi bastards. German wirehaired pointers. The best fucking hunting dogs you can have - they love the water. This is Adolph, Heinrich, Reinhard, Herman, Martin, and Joseph’ - the minister was pointing at the different dogs - ‘Are we fucking ready?’

The minister shouted towards the house.

The door opened and two men stepped out dressed for hunting. Both had a broken shotgun over each shoulder - four guns in total.

‘Yes minister - all ready’ - said one of the men.

‘Special branch officers - they are my security detail and they look after the guns’ - the minister said, taking another nip from the hip flask - ‘alright, let’s get going!’

The dogs went crazy - barking and jumping at the back of the ancient Land Rover. The minister put the hip flask in his jacket pocket and opened the back of the Land Rover. The dogs jumped in, and continued to bark and go crazy.

The minister closed the back of the Land Rover. The two special branch officers were in the other Land Rover. The minister climbed in the drivers side of the ancient Land Rover, and the deputy-minister climbed in the passenger side.

‘The dogs will fucking shut up when we get going - they love going out on a hunt’ - the minister shouted over the din of the dogs barking.

The deputy-minister’s head pounded even more.

‘Give me the hip flask’ - she shouted to the minister.

The minister pulled the hip flask out, opened it and took a nip and then passed it to the deputy-minister. The minister lit a cigarette, and pulled the car away.

‘We are going down by the lake - the birds come in the morning and feed until about 11 and then fuck off. Once the dogs get out of the car the ducks hide in the reeds’ - the minister shouted - ‘the dogs will get in the water and flush the fuckers out, and then we unload on the cunts!’

The minister was driving fast. They had left the grand house behind them and they were heading down a dirt track through the countryside. They drove through a copse of trees along a muddy trail, and then they pulled up at the side of the lake.

A vast expanse of water stretched before them, with high reeds clustered around the edges.

‘We keep the dogs in the car until we have the guns ready - the fuckers move fast and we have to be in position on the banks’ - the minister climbed out of the car and lit another cigarette.

The dogs were barking and howling and growling and snapping at each other.

‘When you’re ready, sergeant’ - the minister said to one of the special branch officers who were climbing out of the other Land Rover.

One of the special branch officers walked up to the deputy-minister with a cartridge bag and a broken shotgun.

‘There you are ma'am’ - the special branch officer placed the cartridge bag over the deputy-minister's shoulder and handed her the shotgun - ‘Ma’am - when we are shooting, we always stay in a flat line. No one moves forward or back, and make sure to keep your gun loaded but broken until you call a bird. I will be behind you - only fire forward, don’t turn your body or move your feet, only move your gun. Got it?’

‘Yes’ - the deputy-minister put on an awkward smile and took the gun.

‘Don’t worry ma’am - I will be behind you all the time’ - the Special Branch officer smiled back.

The minister loaded his shotgun with two cartridges and then shouted - ‘Release the hounds!’

The sergeant opened up the back of the ancient Land Rover - and the dogs leaped out, now silent. The dogs rushed down to the lake and dived into the water and began foraging in the reeds.

‘No better way to spend the morning!’- The minister said, much quieter now.

Two ducks flew up on the minister’s right hand side - ‘Mine!’ The minister shouted and clipped his shotgun from the broken position. The minister leveled his gun and fired the first shot hitting a bird. The minister leveled the gun again, and fired the second shot, missing.

Reinhard swam out into the lake followed by Herman. Reinhard collected the dead duck and swam back to the shore. Reinhard shook some water off of his back, and then ran up to the minister, dropping the duck at his feet.

‘Well done Reinhard. Well done - now go and find me another fucking duck!’ - The minister broke his shotgun and the two spent cartridges ejected, and he reloaded the chambers.

Straight in front of the deputy-minister a duck flew up.

‘This one’s yours ma’am’ - said the Special Branch officer.

‘Mine!’ - Shouted the deputy-minister and she clicked the shotgun into the fire position. The deputy-minister leveled the shotgun and fired the first round. She missed. The deputy-minister leveled the shotgun again and fired, hitting the duck and causing it to spiral downwards and splash into the lake.

‘Cracking shot comrade!’ - Shouted the minister

Adolph swam out to retrieve the duck - and swam back and dropped the duck at the feet of the deputy-minister.

‘Well done ma’am’ - said the Special Branch officer - ‘Break your gun ma’am, and eject the cartridges.’

‘Oh yes - thank you’ - the deputy-minister giggled.

The deputy-minister broke her gun and the two cartridges ejected. She reloaded the gun, and straight away another three ducks flew up in the air. Two of the ducks flew right into the minister’s field and one was rising above the deputy-minister.

“The two cunts on the right are mine!’ - Shouted the minister, and he unloaded both rounds killing both birds.

The deputy-minister readied her gun, and leveled at the duck that was rising high. She shot the first round and missed. She leveled again and shot, killing the bird.

‘Well done ma’am’ - said the Special Branch officer again.

‘Nicely done comrade’ - the minister said - ‘Let’s take a break for a bit.’

The minister pulled out a dog whistle and blew it several times. The dogs emerged from the water and ran back up to the cars.

‘Any chance of a cup of tea sergeant?’ - The minister said to the Special Branch officer.

‘Yes minister’ - the sergeant said.

The special branch sergeant brought the minister and deputy-minister a cup of tea each in a metal cup.

‘Both with milk and sugar’ - the sergeant said.

‘Very good sergeant’ - the minister said, taking his cup of tea.

The minister placed his cup on the bonnet of the ancient Land Rover and pulled the hip flask out of his jacket pocket. The minister then poured some whiskey into the tea, and then offered the same to the deputy-minister.

The deputy-minister held out her cup and the minister poured some whiskey in.

‘Cheers!’ - The minister said, pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one. He offered the packet to the deputy-minister, who took a cigarette.

The minister lit his cigarette, and then lit the deputy-minister’s.

‘Cheers’ - said the deputy-minister with a smile.

They sipped their hot, boozy tea whilst they smoked.

‘I had an interesting call this morning, comrade’ - the minister said, finishing his tea.

‘Oh really?’ - Said the deputy-minister.

‘Yes, Number One called me - told me they had their man, fucking Percival.’

‘That is good news - cheers again!’

‘They are going to arrest him this morning - covert operation.’

‘Excellent minister - I told you they were making progress and closing in on their man.’

Reinhard came up to the minister and he leaned down and stroked the dog. The dogs were resting - they had let off some steam and were more content. Lying down and panting. Steam rising off of their wet bodies in the cold crisp air.

‘Do you mind if I tell you an old war story, comrade?’ - Asked the minister.

‘Of course not - please’ - said the deputy-minister, sipping the hot tea.

‘During the war - we were running operations against the monarchists. We were holed up in a deserted farmhouse and were planting IEDs on the main road to catch their regular army patrols. One night we were out, setting up an IED and the fucking army turned up. The fucking cunts caught us redhanded. There was a fucking fire fight - and five of my team didn’t make it. Shot or injured - and then shot. We got back to the farmhouse and got our gear and made it out. Three of us made it.’ - the minister finished his cigarette and flicked it away - ‘We made our way to the fall-back safehouse - spent three days getting there - on the run and hiding in muddy ditches and crawling through brambles and filth. Nothing to eat and only the water from dirty puddles to drink that gave you the shits. When we got to the next safehouse we watched it for a few hours - just to make sure there were no surprises for us waiting there. We were freezing cold and starving and exhausted, but we waited. We saw a car drive past the cottage, but it didn’t slow down. It just drove past. It could have been anyone. And then an hour later the same fucking car drove past. And an hour later the fucking same car drove past again. And then I knew that we had a rat in the team. Now it might have been one of those poor cunts who were shot and killed in the ambush - but it might have been one of the two who made it out with me. So I killed them - the other two members of the team. Shot them through the fucking head - blew their fucking brains out. In a war, comrade - in a dirty war - it is better to remove all doubt and be able to move on with a clear fucking mind. Know that the people you have around you can be trusted.’

The minister clicked his shotgun to the ready position and aimed the shotgun at the deputy-minister’s head - ‘All animals are fucking equal comrade!’

‘Wai...’ - the deputy-minister tried to say something, but the minister pulled the trigger and shot the deputy-minister in the head - blowing off the top of her skull.

The dogs leaped up and started barking and the two Special Branch officers raced around the front of the ancient Land Rover. The minister broke his gun and handed it to the sergeant.

One of the dogs picked up the top of the deputy-minister’s skull and ran off with it in it’s mouth - chased by the other dogs.

‘Get rid of this fucking cunt!’ - The minister said, looking at the dead deputy-minister - ‘I’m going back to the fucking house to make a phone call. Don’t forget the ducks!’

The minister walked round to the back of the ancient Land Rover and opened the back.

‘Drop that and get In the fucking car you fucking Nazi bastards!’ - The minister screamed at the dogs.

The dogs leaped into the back of the Land Rover and the minister slammed the back shut. He climbed into the driver seat, took a swig from his hip flask and lit a cigarette. He started the engine and roared off back the way he had come, back to his grand old manor house that used to be owned by Battenberg the Duke.