“We ate at Andrews.” I laugh. “That was barely three hours ago. I can’t believe she’s cooking at this time of night.”
“Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“Owen, this is not fun.”
“Come on, some of it has been.” He smirks and I flip him the bird, which gives me another laugh.
Things are lighter. Much lighter between us.
It’s almost like we have created a temporary truce in the warmth and comfort of Maria’s little cottage, but I know that outside waits an absolute fucking shit show.
“I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Oh my God,” I moan as I take the first bite, the sweet, moist meatloaf melting on my tongue. “This is heaven. Thank you so much, Maria.”
“It’s no bother. Bit later than I would have usually cooked something, but then it’s only ever normally me, or when this one escapes Westminster.”
“Owen, leave the laptop. We can look after,” I say as his features remain illuminated by the light from the laptop. “Don’t miss the heaven.”
“Fuck,” he says, as the clang of metal hits the plate as he drops his fork, meatloaf and mashed potato falling onto the table.
“What?” I ask, shovelling another mouthful in. I’ve been trained to eat when I can eat whilst on a mission.
Is this still a mission? It’s a bloody family reunion right now.
“It’s not working.”
“What do you mean, it’s not working?”
Owen pulls the cable out, puts it back in again, types and waits. I walk round to the computer and watch as the screen goes black.
Followed by rows and rows of binary.
“Disconnect it,” I say quickly, reaching forward and grabbing the wire. “It’s a failsafe. It’s wiping itself.”
“Fuck.”
He pulls it out, but it’s too late.
The heat the thing is kicking off says that it’s done what it was supposed to do if it’s been tampered with.
“Did you use the right encryption key?”
“Yes, Lucy. I used the right password,” he replies, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing.
But these devices don’t just wipe themselves. I dare not suggest that it’s probably likely he’s typed the password in wrong, but what other explanation is there?
“I take it that was important?” Maria asks, nodding to the black hard drive that Owen is staring at with a glazed expression.
“Very,” he answers monotone. “Now what?” he asks, glancing up at me as I stare at the now fucked laptop and empty hard drive.
“We need to get Maria a new laptop.”
“Lucy,” he groans. “Please, for once, be serious.”
“It’s Luca, he’ll have a back-up.” I squeeze his shoulder before taking my seat again and tucking back into the heaven—AKA the best meatloaf in the world.
“Do you know how to reach him?” he asks.
