//Good stuff, I don't think so mate, whilst you two were fending off that beast-from-beyond, the south bank has been ablaze with blues-and-twos. Whatever it was that followed us has given 'em a wee idea of where we're goin. 'Me radar is showing that Alpha and Charlie spans of the barrier are closing, and that beta is just starting to close now. Whoever you've pissed off tonight, you really got em proper roiled up. Once that's closed, no shipping is getting in or out of the Thames 'till it opens again.
We've got about a click to go before we hit the barrier which gives us a wee opening on Beta span, but it's gonna be tight, and they're gonna be waiting for us.
You've got a few minutes before we get there, I suggest putting on a drysuit and grabbing one of the rebreathers each. theres a medkit in the stowage and some ration packs too. Shit hits the fan and you two will be better off overboard. Stay in the shallows so the thermal cams don't pick you up. Just jam that harmonica looking thing into your gob, it'll take the oxygen out of the water and let you breath normally. Don't deep-dive though, else you'll be sucking on saltwater. Listen lads, I'll be honest with ye, this ain't looking good. We get through this gate and none of us are coming back to the Old Smoke anytime soon, you hear me? Better make any calls you need to before.. well, you know..//
The impact of the hull on the water settled into a rythm. The cool night air tugged at the lapels of your jacket and seeped into the nooks of the bike armour. The thought of getting in for a swim didn't seem like a pleasant one, but the wailing of sirens and flashes of red and blue from the varying streets to your right made sticking to the plan look even less appealing.
