Marcus is summoned home but received the call late. When he arrives home eveeryone believes he knows why he was called...

The story begins:

 

   Mist shrouded the fens, seeping in to dips and swirling in the BSA’s headlight as Marcus took the sharp left hand bend into the village. He had been driving hard since escaping a late debrief and now he eased off, dropping through the gears to trundle quietly down the village main street.

The village was dark. Only the Inn offered the welcoming beacon of a Friday night lock-in. It must be after midnight,