In the Company of Angels
She was having more luck with boats than bombs this night. The large boat, she had hot wired and steered out into the North Sea as far as she could without loosing sight of the now tiny lights on land. It was all the time she had. The bomb had been starting to make small beeps, and she’d turned her attention to it, wondering how many lives were at stake. How big a blast it would make, she did not know. It was some Alien thing, but there was no mistaking it for a bomb. If she was right, it was a Cyberbomb, and it wouldn’t be too long before it would go off, unless she could disarm it.
She was having much less luck than she’d had with the boat. In her larder of tools, she had a screwdriver. Not a Sonic one. Just a screwdriver. With that and her torch as a hammer, she’d managed to get under it’s skin, but now she knelled before it having no idea what the glowing lines inside meant. Still, over them she held a fine pair of heavy snippers. The beeping got faster.
“Okay! Alright! I want it to keep doing what it’s doing . . not going off. So if I cut the dark wire and leave the hot one, that should work right?”
Sarah Jane did not care for the shake that started in her hand as she moved in.
25 seemed awfully young to die. She started blowing out breaths between pursed lips.
“Smith! If you don’t do anything, you’re certain to die, and take too many with you. So do it!” She bit her lip. Released it. She guided the snips carefully in to the mass of spaghetti in there, sweat curling the hair at her temples.
