"Good policy. Get all the losers in one place. It'll probably be as successful as their Martial Law that they haven't got enough manpower to enforce." Kevin had wandered over and was reading the newsfeed over the night news editor's shoulder.

"I'll take that one," Lucy called out.

"You're both working on it." The night news editor rammed his chair backwards into the sales manager's groin. Kevin exhaled sharply, but continued to force a smile.

Kay tore off a sheet of printer paper to make notes. "Blimey. Two proper stories in one day. It's a sign-the world really is coming to an end!"

They all stopped what they were doing as the night news editor leaned forward to peer at the screen, swearing under his breath. "Somebody must have rattled Downing Street's cage. There's a whole load of stuff coming up here. Flights grounded earlier, now we get `train services limited… No international calls… maybe extended disruption of the phone network… orders to shoot looters on sight…' What the fuck is going on?"

A middle-aged man in a smart dark suit moved slowly from the editor's office towards the news desk. He had a nondescript haircut and bland features and he carried himself with the stiff demeanour of a civil servant.

"When are you going to tell us what the fuck's going on?" the night news editor bellowed. "It's a fucking outrage! The people have a right to know-"

The dark-suited man dropped a sheet of paper on the desk. "This is tomorrow's page one story. `PM Launches Battle of Britain."'

They all looked at it, dumbfounded. "You can't do that!" Lucy could see another byline disappearing before her eyes.

The night news editor scanned the paper, then hammered it beneath the flat of his hand. "We can't print this! It doesn't fucking say anything! Just fucking PR guff? Nobody has any idea what's going on, they don't know who the fucking enemy is! It could be a fucking coup for all anyone knows! There'll be panic in the streets-"