Part 46 (1/2)
Josh wasn't so sure. She had deconstructed what went on inside his head when he fired off techniques, then reproduced his state of mind inside herself.
”When I hit the pads,” he said now, ”I hear Lofty's voice inside my head telling me to hit harder. Though I'd not been properly aware of it.”
”So...”
”So Suzanne does the same thing, hears someone encouraging her on.”
”Auditory hallucination,” said Suzanne, ”if you like.”
Tony looked at the pads he was holding.
”That sounds nuts, except I've never known a beginner hit that way. There must be something in it.”
Suzanne smiled at him.
”Josh tells me you were one of the best shots in the Regiment.”
”One of the best?” of the best?”
”He also said you were modest.”
”Ah.”
She picked up a coffee mug, walked to the far end of the room, and held it up.
”Imagine you were going to shoot this.”
”All right.”
”Really imagine it, as if you were holding a weapon.”
From nowhere, Tony drew a real gun and pointed it. Josh remained relaxed.
”Interesting,” said Suzanne. ”How big is the mug?””About ten inches. But my wife would say three and a half.”
”Yes, but how big does it really look?”
”It... Jesus.” Tony lowered the gun. ”It looks about four feet tall, but only in my head, you know? My mind's eye.”
”Hmm. That's a common strategy among top marksmen,” she said. ”But I'd only read about it. You actually use it. Hallucinating visualising the target bigger than it is.”
Tony looked at Josh.
”And you've been in this woman's company day and night for how long now?”
”I've lost track.”
”When Amber moved in with me first, remember how she rearranged my furniture?”
”Er, yeah.”
”At least she didn't refurbish the insides of my head. On the other hand, I didn't need it, whereas you clearly did, old mate.”
Josh looked at Suzanne, whose reply was a beaming smile, full of innocence and wicked intent, all at the same time.
”Have you tidied up my mind,” he said, ”just cause you're a neuropsych and you can?”
”Oh, no.”
”Well, thank G.o.d for”
”It's because I'm a woman.”
Tony laughed.
”She's well and truly got you, mate.”
On the tenth day, after laying anti-surveillance kit throughout Suzanne's flat, Josh popped schematics up onto the wallscreen. Tony, Hannah, and Vikram watched from the couch, while Suzanne fetched coffee.
”There are five different possible OPs,” Josh said. ”We could lay up here, this crawls.p.a.ce, which is the closest to the action, but the hardest to keep quiet in.”
He had a.n.a.lysed the hiding places in various ways: ease of access getting in without tripping alarms even he could not subvert and ease of exit on the day, to get close to the action; the acoustic properties, for silence was going to be key; ventilation and the amount of room available. All were part-way reasonable; none of them was perfect.
”Not bad.” Tony leaned forward, pointing. ”What about going in through the?”
”Hold on.” Hannah looked at Suzanne. ”Didn't this all start with your friend Philip Broomhall? And isn't he stinking rich?””I don't think Broomhall considers me a friend,” said Suzanne. ”But he is rich, yes.”
”Well, what kind of person lives in the Barbican?” asked Hannah. ”It's your city financiers, and a bunch of rich actors, all that kind. That's who.”
”So?”
”So what kind of friends does Broomhall mostly have? You think maybe rich ones? Could be, he knows someone who lives there.”
”That's not bad,” said Josh.
”Come off it,” said Hannah. ”It's f.u.c.king genius.”