There was a message waiting for them when they awoke the following day. The screen on Mike’s Communicator had only one sentence upon its shiny surface. ‘Congratulations on a mission successfully completed. We will be in touch.’ They stared at the screen and waited whilst Mike played with the keys to see if they had missed anything. After checking everything, he looked up and said, ‘Nope, that’s all there is – I expect we’ll be hearing from him in a bit.’ His foresight was remarkably accurate. Almost exactly twenty-nine hours later, whilst they were having a bite to eat the next afternoon, the Communicator woke up again. Waiting for its flashing light was now like waiting for that vital text message from someone important. Every five minutes they would keep glancing at the machine. Putting his knife back onto the plate, Mike reached over and turned the device so that he was able to operate the keypad properly. ‘This looks serious,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve not seen it that bright before…’ The screen did its magic and then, over their cheese and tomato sandwiches, George gave them their latest task.
