Santa's New Toy

Chapter Four

Santa decided Porter was probably the safest bet of the three and loaded an episode of Strike Back into the machine’s control panel. Within minutes he was taking shape, upright and immaculate in khaki dress uniform, the same handsome face as the others bearing a small cut beneath the right eye and shorter dark hair. He appeared more curious than anything else to be trapped in the glass box. When Nick released him, he had to spend several minutes talking him through the technology involved, before telling him where he would be going later that night. John Porter gave a satisfied smile, Danni notwithstanding, it had been a very long time….

Whilst showing Porter how the machine worked, Nick had begun the process to create Lucas North. Having been subjected to Series 7, 8 and 9 of Spooks by his wife, he opted for Series 8 Lucas, recovered from his Russian torment and suitably hunky, but not yet in bad boy mode. God knows, he thought, I’m going to have enough trouble with the next one without having to cope with a gun-toting, explosive wielding maniac as well.

Nick had to admit he was impressed as Lucas began to take shape in the chamber. He started from the bottom up with black leather shoes, dark blue designer jeans with a very flattering cut, a black shirt, open at the neck, and Belstaff jacket. Short dark hair, the faintest hint of stubble and those soulful but slightly tormented piercing blue eyes completed his latest creation, and Nick silently thanked the heavens that Mary wasn’t around to witness his latest project.

Like Porter, Lucas was curious about the technology involved, but time was against Nick now and rather than do another demo, Nick took him to the waiting area to introduce him to Porter so he could explain it all. 

Before returning to the office, he took a detour to the quality control office and summoned Teri, a particularly sparky female elf to his side. “You’ve seen this Spooks nonsense my Missus watches haven’t you?” he asked gruffly. Teri nodded enthusiastically. She’d heard the rumours about Nick’s latest gadget and was hoping she might be able to help him out in some way, in a strictly career development light, of course.

“Good, good,” he muttered, “I’ve got Lucas North in the Green Room. I need you pop down and check his tattoos are all present and correct. Think you can manage that?”

“Yes, thank you, Mr Claus,” beamed Teri, “I’ll be ever so thorough, I promise….”

 ***

Nick eyed the machine with a weary sigh. It had to be done but he was not looking forward to it. He checked the time and came to the conclusion that by now another whisky would be of little consequence. Pouring a large measure into his glass, he slowly pulled out a DVD case bearing the words ‘Robin Hood – Season 1’.

He flicked through the episodes until he came upon one that had cropped up several times in the intelligence that Malcolm had gathered. He thanked his lucky stars that these women were more interested in the leather than weapons, and hit the ‘create’ button on the keyboard.

Nick strode purposefully to the telephone and dialled. “Malcolm, I need you up here in the next five minutes max. Best bring some help with you, I think this one could be a bit…challenging.”

“OK, boss,” replied Malcolm, breathing a large but silent sigh of relief.

“And Malcolm,” continued Nick, “Have you managed to track Lee down yet? I need to know what’s going on there when you come up.”

Malcolm’s sense of relief rapidly evaporated. He had indeed tracked Lee down, the CCTV system had told him everything he needed to know, and quite a bit that he didn’t. Explaining it to Nick, however, was something he was looking forward to even less than dealing with the new recruit.

Meanwhile, Nick was on the phone to the transport department. “I need the Multi-Person Sleigh ready to go in thirty minutes. Make sure the turbo mode is working – I’m going to need to make some time up if I’m going to get back again to do the kids presents later.”

He turned and looked at the chamber, which now contained a hefty pair of black boots and a pair of long muscular legs all clad in black leather criss-crossed with leather lacings. A belt had almost formed and from it hung a menacing looking broadsword which Nick hadn’t noticed in the still he had chosen.

“Bugger,” he murmured. He headed across to a photo of himself and his team that hung in strategic position on the wall opposite his desk. He carefully removed it to reveal a safe, entered a code into the keypad and extracted from it a small metal case. He took a syringe from a sealed packet within the case and filled it with clear liquid from a small glass bottle, before carefully wrapping the rubbish in newspaper and dropping it into the bin. He then carefully replaced everything just as Malcolm knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Nick shouted. His creation was now almost shoulder height and he was relieved to have some back up. “Right, before we get stuck in with this one, what’s happening with Lee? Have you tracked him down?”

Due to the nature of his work, Malcolm was accomplished at spinning a yarn, but he’d never had to do so for his boss’s benefit. Luckily Nick was too preoccupied with the contents of the chamber to notice the slight flush on Malcolm’s face or the hard swallow before he began to speak.

“Yes, Nick, we’ve found him. He was a bit disorientated…and cold, and you know how busy we are tonight, so Mary’s seeing to him. Hopefully he’ll be fit to travel by the time we set off...”

At that moment, both Nick and Malcolm were distracted by muted shouting and the sound of metal on glass. Guy of Gisborne was complete in the chamber and seriously unimpressed with his surroundings.

Nick pressed a button on the control panel that allowed him to speak to the inhabitant of the chamber. “It’s all right Gisborne, we’re not here to do you any harm. In fact, you might say we have a little treat in store for you.”

“What’s with the welcoming committee then,” he snarled, eyeing the half a dozen burly elves that had been drafted in to assist if necessary. Then he spotted Malcolm, who was watching him with a slight sneer on his face, unimpressed by his display of brawn over brains. “And who’s that petulant little fuckwit? He reminds me of someone else I used to know…”