#we’d be dope secret agents

[glitchedcosmos]

Asexuals would make great secret agents because the power of seduction wouldn’t work on us but we could still utilize the power of seduction against our enemies and just yes asexual secret agents

[tory-ben-hi-shelton]

my favourite quotes from exposure

Multiple sets of handcuffs appeared and were applied. Bailiffs began peeling off the dog-pile like layers of an onion. And there, at the bottom of the scrum, was Kit. He was panting like a marathoner, arms still wrapping the Gamemaster's legs in a death grip. He'd clearly been the first to react.

"Oh, man!" Shelton had both hands on his dome. He seemed winded, despite not having moved during the attack. "Things just got real in here."

"Sorry I froze in there, Tor." Shelton frowned as he shirt wiped his glasses. "Not exactly my 'One Shining Moment', huh?" I waved off his apology. I knew Shelton hated how skittish he could be.

I try to hide the eruptions, but the guys can always tell. They do their best to support me even though it makes them uncomfortable. It's very sweet, but teenage boys make lousy grief counsellors.

The previous semester, Ben had been in half our classes, too, despite being a junior. Obviously, he was no longer around. Sometimes it felt like a limb was missing.

"Jason might be there," Courtney chirped. "He likes you."

"Oh." Not a brilliant response. "Yeah, maybe. I might have a thing, though."

Wonderful. Good job, good effort, Tory.

Behind me, I heard Hi fake coughing to cover his snickers

"I should be a secret agent." Hi blew on his fingernails, then buffed them on his lapel. "Or a magician. Maybe both. Someone write that down."

My hands shot for the Ray-Bans, but Ben caught my fingers mid-flight.

"It's not nice to grab," he said calmly.

"I can't handle all this tension," Shelton moaned. "Too much fighting."

Hi nodded, watching Ben dissapear down a side street. "We need to work on our conflict management. Maybe attend a seminar."

"Make your own?" Hi shifted to look at my face. "Victoria Grace, have you been holding out on me?"

"Tell me everything."

"You're not gonna be happy," Hi warned. "Don't kill the messenger."

"Or his good-looking buddy," Shelton added.

"On Saturday Ben and I drove to John's Islands to see Skyfall."

"You did?" Hi said sharply. "Thanks for the invite, jerks."

Shelton raised his palms. "You were at temple. We're suppose to wait around? Plus, you've seen that movie like five times."

"You still could've asked," Hi grumbled. "I don't—"

"Guys!" I clapped my hands once. "The story, please."

"So many gentleman admirers," Hi mused. "Must be tough, being a heartbreaker."

"Zip it. Unless you wanna see a leg-breaker too."

Ella adopted a mock serious tone. "Will you bodyguards consent?"

I giggled. "If Shelton and Hi are my bodyguards, I don't like my chances. And yes."

"See this?" Ben glanced at the mirror and pointed to his chin. "This is my 'couldn't care less' face."

"Boys?" I stood and faced them. "Something to share?"

"It was a secret." Hi aimed a kick at Shelton, who dodged easily. "Ben made us swear not to tell."

I crossed my arms. Waited.

"Tell Kit we're cutting a music video," Hi suggested as we walked. "Something real gangster, so we need to smash-cut our dance routines. Lay down some visuals. We could offer to let him freestyle rap over the second verse."

"Come on, Sambo!" Hi winked. "Live a little. What are we going to do, rob the place?"

The guard crossed his arms. "Wink at me again, Hiram, and I'll throw you to the wolfpack."

"Did I not mention that?" My brain was truly deep fried. "We went together."

"Oh." Hi and Shelton at once. Ben looked away.

"Hey, wait." I leaned closer to the screen. "You guys wouldn't have wanted to go. I took Ella so I wouldn't be paraded around like Whitney's toy poodle." No one spoke. Nonplussed, I decided to change the subject.

I glowered at Ben from the backseat. I'd given Hi shotgun, having sensed this argument was inevitable. I didn't want to be close. The urge to slap might become overpowering.

"Why don't we use our friendly words?" Hi suggested. "Let's take five, and everyone can say something we like about each other. I'll start. Shelton you're super at—"

"Shut up, Hi!" Ben and I shouted, the first thing we'd agreed upon all morning.

"Must be hell to keep the pH balance correct. I know how it is. I owned a goldfish once."

"Once?" Shelton asked.

"It died. Almost immediately."

"Nice work."

"It's a cultural thing," Hi was saying. "I think you're being insensitive."

Hines snorted. "Do you want me to cuff you?"

"Kinda."

"A minute alone, Tory. I'd like a quick chat."

Ben shot forward. "You can stick chat right up—"

Hi waved at me from across the yard, waiting for his mother to arrive. Apparently he'd body-blocked the first cops to chase me through the house. The police were none too pleased. I owe you one, Hi. You bought me enough time.

Entering the Virals chat room, I found all three boys present.

Uh oh.

They'd met there ahead of time, before alerting me. To discuss me.

I glanced up to see Shelton holding latex gloves. Hi had the ziplocks. Ben handed me a cotton swab and stopper. "Anything else?"

Despite the circumstances, I smiled.

Ruth popped her son on the back of the head. "Mind your manners, Hiram."

"Why does everyone do that?" Hi muttered. "And that was child abuse. In front of the police, I might add."

He looked away. The harbour breeze ruffled his silky black hair. My hand found his, almost by its own volition.

I couldn't be mad at Ben anymore. It was like being mad at my left arm. And right then, I needed my arm back.

A smile quirked on my father's lips. "And you, Mr. Blue? Ready for a good ol'-fashioned backyard barbecue? My daughter will be there."

Ben's uneasy smile was his only response.

Ben reached up from where he was lying with his eyes closed. Smacked Hi's dome.

Hi rubbed his head. "I'm getting pretty tired of that move."

"Then quit being a dope." Ben's lids remained shut.

"Hey, sure. No problem. I just need to—"

Hi lunged for Ben, intending a flying body slam. Ben caught Hi in midair and tossed him downhill in one quick motion. Hi tumbled, rolled, and dropped over the berm of the sand.

"That was dumb." Hi informed the blue sky.

Ben started talking about Wando High. I countered with news of Bolton. Before long, we'd exchanged stories, catching up on the last five months of each other's lives. I hadn't realized how much I missed Ben. How badly I wanted him back at Bolton.

He was right, of course. I was keeping several secrets from Ben. Like how comfortable it felt to be alone with him. How much I'd missed his reassuring presence. His quiet strength.

Ben removed his shoes, plunged both feet into the lapping salt waters Then he leaned back against a post, sighing contently. The little-boy maneuver brought a smile to my face.

"You're staying out here?" Shelton asked. "Alone?"

"No big deal. I don't want Kit to see what I'm up to."

"I don't like it," Ben said. Behind him, Hi looked uneasy.

"No one knows this place exists." I pointed to the other room. "And there's an 85 pound predator in there that loves me. I'll be fine."

...

"Text me when you get home." Ben requested. "Please don't forget."

I hid a smile. "Will do. Bye, guys."

I sat forward at the table. "Okay, so ... like, don't freak out."

That got their attention.

"About?" Ben took the seat across from me, next to Hiram.

"There was an incident last night." Oh so calm. "I'm perfectly okay, but on the way hone someone attacked me on the beach."

"What?!" Three stunned voices.

"That's why you didn't text," Ben muttered.

Ben shook his head in wonderment. "Incredible. It's nice having a genius around."

"It's only genius if it works." But I flushed at the compliment.

I squeezed Ben's shoulder. "Who's the genius now?"

He snorted, looked away.

"You let her go alone?" Ben scolded, slowly working his way down to where Hi was beached. "That defeats the whole purpose!"

"I'm aware of that, Benjamin." Hi tried slinging a leg onto the riverbank, but it flopped back into the rolling current. "But she'd figured out you sent her away from the mine on purpose. You try telling Tory what to do when she's pissed."

"I'll pass."

"How's the leg, detective? Or did my wolfdog bite you in the ass, instead?"

"Hey, at least it's not your birthday. Worst one ever, by the way."

His fist came up. I dapped it with mine.

"For Tory," Shelton said.

"For Tory." All jokes shelved.

Coop was rolling in the leaves, pinning someone beneath his massive bulk.

Ben dove on the tangle with a voice-cracking whoop.

I was no longer alone. The Virals had found me. Ben was beaming, unable to hide his relief. He turned quickly, wiping his glowing eyes. Shelton darted forward and crushed me with a hug. Coop was dancing and bucking, his tail wagging so hard he had trouble keeping balance. My boys. My heroes.

"Do you confronted the twins alone, without waiting for us?" Ben couldn't keep the anger from his voice. "After making us promise not to do anything like that?"

"We can discuss my impulsiveness another time—"

"Oh, we will." Ben assured me.

I ejected the spent clip from the HK45, slammed the new one into place, then worked the slide to chamber a round. Then I held the weapon loosely at my side, barrel pointed toward the ground.

"I'm terrified of you right now," Hi said wide-eyed. "And in love. Take me shooting with your aunt Tempe next time."

"Take the SUV and go. I'll stay with Ella and handle the fallout."

"Out of your mind." Ben said immediately.

"We could drive away without anybody knowing."

"I'm not leaving Tory to face this alone," Ben insisted. "Get serious!"

I spoke softly. "The cops will eat you alive, Benjamin Blue. You have to go."

Ben tensed, ready to argue.

"Detective Hawfield died. This is going to get serious. It's way too much heat for you. Please be sensible."

Ben hesitated. Then his shoulders slumped.

"Maybe you're right." Deep breath. "But you're taking away the other possibility, too."

"I don't understand." I glanced over my shoulder at the approaching vehicle. "What other possibility?"

He smiled wanly. "Ben Blue, The Hero. That kinda would've been nice."

I paused, at a loss for words. My heart broke for him.

"But that's okay." Ben dug keys from his pocket. "After all, we're Virals, not heroes. And that's fine. Plus, I'm not really the hero type."

He turned to leave.

Impulsively, I grabbed Ben's arm. Pulled him close. Smashed my lips against his. The kiss only lasted a second, but also an eternity. Then I stepped back an shoved Ben towards the Explorer.

"Of course you're the type." I was grateful the darkness hid my blushes. "Now go."

Ben stared, stricken, thunderstruck. Hi and Shelton watched, wide-eyed with shock.

"Weirdest birthday ever," Hi whispered.

"Corcoran will survive," Ben commented sourly. "He always does. We crack the case, he gets to be the hero."

My head whipped to Ben. Was that bitterness?

I saw no trace. Ben was smiling, relaxed for the first time in days. Maybe months.

As my father strode away, Shelton and Hi both unleashed dramatic yawns.

"Welp." Hi stretch his arms over his head. "I'd better go check on various things that aren't right here. You coming, Shelton?"

"Oh you know it." Hiding a smile. "Stuff to do. No time to waste."

I descended two steps.

Stopped.

Shot back up.

Wrapped Ben in a bone-crushing hug.

Startled, it took him a moment before he hugged me back.

"He didn't say anything to me," Hi repeated. "And if Shelton were sick, I'd be the first to hear about it. At length."

"So what's the plan?" Ben asked.

"Go inside. Look around. Improvise."

"Brilliant." Hi stroked his chin. "Quick question: Is having no plan the same as having a terrible plan, or are those different categories?"

[dis--parity]

Interview 03-IO/GW-██

TRANSCRIPT -- Interrogation session 03-IO/GW-██

Date: ████ of █████, 20██

Interrogator on site: Captain ████ Raynes

Transcription Correspondent: Agent ███████ Brewer

Begin recording at 1000 HRS.

S001, ‘Garis’,  awaits in the interrogation chamber, appearing fatigued, but stable.

Interrogator agent Raynes is cleared to attempt interrogation.

Interrogator Raynes enters the interrogation chamber. Door is locked.

Begin Questioning.

Garis: Guess we know the drill by now. So… what you got for us this time?

Raynes: Well, surprisingly… our team recovered quite a lot of paperwork. Your cult leader didn’t really seem to have the due diligence to burn it.

Garis: So… lots of stuff we didn’t know about, then? Like what?

Raynes: Cryptocurrency transactions, recruitment figures, personal expenses… the brand name doubled as a money-laundering front for some people your… leader, was associated with, it looks like. Other than that… he was a gambler. Day-trader, broker, conman… you name it.

Garis: Oh, there’s a fair few fucking names we’d use for that degenerate piece of filth. … hey, there’s one of them just now.

Raynes: I’m with you there. I already told about what we found in that pudding - looks like he used the same stuff on himself. Him and Rosenfeld. You think… maybe he wanted to believe his own lies?

Garis: More likely he was just a junkie. Both of them. Using people like us to bring in the dirty money, doing whatever they please and letting the others do the same, ‘cause as long as they make a profit-

Raynes: Hey, hey, hey. I get it. Chill. They were greedy bastards, secret’s out, but they’re dead now. Speak ill of ‘em all you want, but… I’m afraid there’s more. That pudding they gave you? For both you in the cult and the general populace, they put blood in it.

Garis: I-... blood? Like-... my blood?

Garis appears to become nauseous at the concept. They take out a lozenge that agent Raynes had previously provided them with and suck on it.

Raynes: Yeah. Possibly… those blood donations went into it. Mr. Whittock-... Judas, wanted to study the effects of the blood of the young on the aging process using a large sample. When he got something solid, he was gonna sell it to all kinds of people. Politicians, criminals, all kinds of people who were past their prime. Another profit incentive.

Garis: And a way to keep the old and corrupt in power. Fuck… that- you destroyed all that, right?

Raynes: I can’t confirm or deny that.

Note: It’s destroyed. I saw to it myself.

Garis: So… you’ve got all this from those documents. Why are we still here? Just for the hell of it?

Raynes: There’s still a few questions I need to ask you. One of them is about the, ah... possible terrorist motives of the cult. Given everything I’ve just told you, everything Judas looked like he was building up to… why the sudden change of heart? Why order a shipment of weapons so conspicuously?

Garis: We-... we can’t say for sure. Not from our perspective, but… there were-... we got messages from the God in the Numbers around the same time we all received what I later found out were weapons. It… it wasn’t Judas that was talking.

Raynes: So… the other one. Elijah?

Garis: We were... doped up, all of us. Same thing they always did to us, but we knew. I knew. Gale knew. And his voice-... the voice- Elijah, he was the one the God in the Numbers spoke from. We all got our guns, told they would… told it was the rapture. We didn’t know what it meant at the time, but I heard what people thought. That we’d go out and show these ‘relics’ to the world, redeem them in the eyes of God. But… we alone felt the cold steel of a nine millimeter in our hands.

Raynes: But… why do this? Haemolife was more or less off the radar until that weapons shipment came in.

Garis: … I think that was the point where they finally factored Gale in. Someone who could get past that barrier, someone who had the willpower to defy the God in the Numbers. Someone who didn’t have the same fear Iris did. They knew… they knew she’d blab eventually. Desperate times, maybe.

Raynes: And the way Rosenfeld took desperate measures was to initiate a terrorist attack before you could expose the truth?

Garis: No - not to take everyone else out. To destroy everyone in the know - myself included. Maybe something changed along the way, maybe they realised your CIA was onto them. Either way… it was the end for all of us.

Raynes: Even the ones cross country… shit. They were prepared for this. Shit… I mean… you told me about your parents. I guess you didn’t leave anyone behind, at least

S001 grimaces at these words. Their mood appears to be taking a turn for the worse.

Garis: … we did. Fuck. I did. We… couldn’t even say goodbye. We knew what was happening, and-... we pushed him away. We didn’t want to drag him into this, too.

Raynes: Who?

Garis sighs.

Garis: … his name was Alex. He was there for us. If it wasn’t for him, we might not be Garis now. He showed us the best of times, and stuck with us in the worst of times. He knew… he knew about what we truly went through, we told him. And he helped us anyway. Loved us anyway. He-....

Garis pauses for a brief moment. Their face looks almost guilty.

Garis: They, told me about how their dad used to isolate them socially, stick them to one place, and how they grew jealous of all the other kids who had parents who loved them, parents who took them places instead of keeping them cooped up in their rooms, parents that… didn’t have any agreement between each other to do what they wanted to their children. Together, we figured out ways to fight back against our respective abusers. I was able to defy the God in the Numbers because of them. Because of their... humanity, that nobody else showed us. Fuck… all that time, we thought we were saving them. But, now we’re together, we realise… they were saving us. If they became a target…

Raynes: … tell me something. If there’s something you could say to them right now, if they’re alive, if they could listen... what would it be?

Garis hesitates. Agent Brewer detects this conversation is becoming too personal in nature, but the interrogator is owed some leeway.

Garis: … I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t explain to you what was happening, Alex. But… you saved my life. I wish I knew where you were, and I promise one day we’ll find a way to talk to each other again, someway, somehow, and I’ll tell you, once and for all… thank you.

Note: Raynes has taken all the leeway he’s getting.

Agent Brewer enters the interrogation chamber.

Brewer: Raynes, what are you doing?! This isn’t helping us, we’ve gotten everything we need! Now let’s move on to the next stage already, and-

Raynes: William! Get back to your post, I told you I’d handle this.

Brewer: Oh, because you’ve handled everything so fucking well so far, haven’t you?

Garis: Hey, shut the fuck up, goatee!

Raynes: Yeah, shut the fuck up! Finish up that transcript and we’ll take it outside the interrogation chamber. We’ll move onto the wrap up once you’ve got that shit out your system.

Garis: The… ‘wrap up’? What is this? What have you got planned now, CIA?

Raynes: … I guess we’ll see for ourselves. Please, go back to your cell. Things are gonna work themselves out - starting right now.

[thisdaynews]

Olympic bobsleighers: The four Britons who waited five years for bronze

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/olympic-bobsleighers-the-four-britons-who-waited-five-years-for-bronze/

Olympic bobsleighers: The four Britons who waited five years for bronze

Russia president Vladimir Putin’s popularity with voters soared after the Sochi games

A presidential playground with a $50bn budget, disguised government agents, secret sample swapping and an elaborate Russian plot to dominate on the global stage.

A retrospective look at the Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics reads like a script for a James Bond or Mission Impossible film. Even the International Olympic Committee was duped, hailing an “exceptional” event and its “message of peace, tolerance and respect”.

But six years on we know – via the McLaren report – that Russia operated a state-sponsored doping programme between 2011 and 2015. As a result, the country has been stripped of 19 Olympic medals won by cheating over that period.

Somewhere in the middle of all the deception were a bunch of British bobsleighers dubbed the ‘meatwagon’ who in November last year were finally awarded bronze medals after originally finishing fifth in Sochi.

BBC Sport has followed the team of John Jackson, Stu Benson, Joel Fearon, Bruce Tasker and performance director Gary Anderson since they formed as a group in 2011.

Now they finally know the success of their story – achieved despite odds stacked against them in the most startling way. Theirs is a tale of optimism corrupted by suspicion, and of disappointment transformed into joy. Eventually.

Bobsleigh requires speed and strength. The muscle mass that provides the latter results in bulky athletes who also help generate more momentum as they career down the ice. As a result, Fearon decided ‘meatwagon’ was the perfect name for their heavyweight foursome. Fearon, a former sprinter, describes himself as the “baby” of the group, “excitable” and “cocky”.

“We had such an amazing bond,” he adds. “Jacko was super-serious and we’d call him granddad. He’d come from the marines so he’d always make sure we were on our game.

“Bruce (Tasker) was like a giant robot who’d never forget anything and always deliver, then there’s Stu (Benson), who was the most emotional – if anyone was going to cry first it would be him.”

When they formed in 2011, the GB set-up was unfunded. Although Jackson – Royal Marines – and Benson – Royal Air Force – were paid by their respective armed forces, Fearon and Tasker had no such funding and money was tight for all.

From left to right: Benson, Fearon, Tasker and Jackson – pictured at the World Championships of 2013

“You knew going into bobsleigh at that time you’d end up in debt,” says Welshman Tasker, who worked part-time as waiter and needed help from his girlfriend to pay his rent.

To cut costs the team would hire trucks and drive their sleds between venues overnight all around Europe. It was one of many elements that brought the group together, although Tasker recalls one dramatic flashpoint.

“We’d just had a big crash at a track in Winterberg on TV, so we were all bruised and pretty miserable on this long drive back from Germany to the UK for Christmas,” he says.

“It was about 2am and Jacko had been driving for about 14 hours when we had a massive blow-out on a tyre and veered across three lanes of the motorway. He somehow kept us from smashing into the central reservation and I went: ‘Wow Jacko, that was the best driving you’ve done all day’. He didn’t take that well. Not at all.”

Fortunately, night driving was reduced when UK Sport stepped in to provide funding after the team finished 10th at the 2012 World Championships.

And results improved further still. In December 2013 they won a landmark World Cup silver medal, before repeating the feat at the European Championships of January 2014.

With one month to go before Sochi, hopes were high. But nobody could have imagined just what they’d be up against.

With a budget of over $50bn – more than 25 times Vancouver’s 2010 Winter Olympics spend – president Vladimir Putin was leaving nothing to chance in his mission to show Russia as a 21st Century sporting superpower.

Sochi 2014 was the first time the nation had hosted an Olympics since Moscow 1980, when the summer Games were overshadowed by boycotts and protests following the Soviet Union’s invasion of Afghanistan.

Sochi aspired to achieve a very different legacy. It was supposed to signal the start of a golden era for Russian sport, four years before the nation hosted the football World Cup.

Arriving in the host city with a week to go, it was hard not to be overwhelmed by the scale of it all.

Organisers had created two entirely new resorts – one in the mountains for snow and sliding sports, plus another coastal cluster on the Black Sea, predominantly for indoor events.

It was impressive. But it soon became clear appearances didn’t tell the whole story.

Media playback is not supported on this device

Grigory Rodchenkov speaks to BBC sports editor Dan Roan in February 2018

There were lighter moments, which ranged from water running yellow out of hotel taps, to athletes hacking their way though bathroom doors,and on a personal note, waking up at 3am to discover I was sharing my room with a rat.

Then there was serious danger, such as when GB bobsledder Rebekah Wilson narrowly avoided certain death by almost walking into an empty lift shaft,and the discovery of hundreds of stray dogs that had been killed by organisers in order to ‘clean up’the area.

The military presence added an extra level of unease.

“It was so heavily armed. Sealed buses, snipers all over the place, vehicles being searched… knowing you were always being watched was really quite bizarre,” says Royal Air Force technician Benson.

“At the time we just thought, ‘this is Russia, this is how they do things here’, but now you think well, if ever anyone was going to cheat the way they did, then they created the perfect place for it to happen.”

Jackson was suspicious too.

“The Russians had disappeared from the international circuit three weeks before everyone else. We just put it down to home advantage and getting a bit more time on their track,” recalls the Royal Marines commando.

“They’d been much slower at starting than us, but then come the Games they were right on us, which was a real jump. It was nagging at me.”

Then there were further concerns during the Games when teams were turned away from the track before a training session because of a “military exercise”.

Benson, who suspected Russia had been having additional secret training sessions, adds: “It all just contributed to making the atmosphere more intense than you expected.”

The four-man bobsleigh event took place over the Games’ final two days, by which point much of Sochi had become a party scene, with all but a small group of athletes finished competing.

After the first run, the British team were 10th. They improved two further places by the end of the first day. The team’s performance director Gary Anderson believed his team could climb into contention, but had noticed something curious.

“I could see that all the athletes were heading off the track in one direction, but the Russian athletes would go in the opposite direction,” he says.

“I was just thinking ‘what’s down there?’ because it’s a prohibited area with no access for anyone else other than the Russians and officials with access-all-area passes.

“At the time you put it down to home advantage and maybe a different changing room, but now I’m thinking it was probably a lot more sinister than we thought.”

The final day of the Sochi Olympics began with a beautiful sunrise. There was a genuine feeling of celebration among the Russian fans I joined en-route to the sliding centre. The Brits were happy too. Skeleton slider Lizzy Yarnold’s gold already meant Britain had a record-equalling four medals. One more from the bobsleigh crew would make history.

Now late February, it was warm in Sochi. Up in the mountains, several of the ‘secret’ sniper positions had been revealed by the melting snow. Their occupants – the Russian military – had taken up new homes, moving BBC Sport and other broadcasters from their presentation positions for the final day to make room for soldiers on the venue rooftops.

Security was so tight because Putin was back to witness what he hoped would be another Russia gold, one that would confirm their place at the top the medal table before the closing ceremony later that evening.

The four-man team wait to see how they will finish in Sochi in 2014

The 39-year-old bobsleigh veteran Alexander Zubkov, a friend of the Russian president, duly delivered as he piloted the hosts to victory. Jackson and his team came agonisingly close. They missed out on third place by just 0.11 seconds. They finished fifth – with another Russian team in fourth.

“It was tough, but there was a lot of pride because we’d pushed ourselves until our bodies fell apart and did it for one another,” says Jackson.

“At the time we thought we’d been beaten by four better teams. But I remember standing at the finish and although I couldn’t quite put my finger on it something just didn’t feel right.

“I didn’t want to come across as a sore loser so I just smiled, did my interviews and went to celebrate with the guys because it was still a great result given everything we’d been through and where we’d come from.”

The real story of that race wouldn’t emerge for another two years though. When it finally did, the details were scarcely believable.

The McLaren report, published in July 2016, revealed how Russia engineered an “unprecedented doping programme” to help their athletes cheat between 2011-2015.

Hundreds of Russians were banned from the Rio 2016 Olympics, with a second report in December that year providing more details, stating that over 1,000 athletes from the nation had benefitted.

Immediately the team’s thoughts turned to those 0.11 seconds.

“We wouldn’t say it at the time as we didn’t want to get too excited if it didn’t come true, but all four of us were looking at one another early on and there was kind of an acknowledgement that we came third,” says Tasker.

Fearon’s approach was slightly different. He was adamant they would be moved up to bronze and “had two or three massive parties” before buying a replica medal.

The International Olympic Committee finally revised the official results in March 2019 – following the lengthy reanalysis of samples from Sochi 2014, and various Russian appeals.

The McLaren report detailed how dirty samples would be swapped with clean ones at the Sochi anti-doping lab

Jackson, a royal marine commando who has served in conflict zones and witnessed real horrors, admits he was moved to tears by the news.

“I hadn’t seen it that morning as I was at work and when my wife phoned me I just couldn’t speak – I literally had no words. For 15 minutes I was just sobbing,” he recalls.

“It was a combination of letting all that frustration and anger out, after years of uncertainty, combined with the relief that it was finally over.”

For Tasker, confirmation made for an especially touching moment as he had been forced to retire from the sport and missed the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics after suffering a minor stroke in 2017.

“I was working for a health tech company as an office manager and was just opening up when I had the call from Gary (Anderson),” he says.

“I loved the fact I was by myself because I was quite emotional. I just sat there grinning to myself when everyone came in, but didn’t say anything until I got home to celebrate with my family.

“I didn’t get to leave the sport how I wanted, but it was special to finally have something like this to show for my career.”

However, once the elation had passed, anger and frustration took over as the four realised what they had truly been denied – the chance to celebrate on an Olympic podium together at the Games themselves.

“We’ll never get that moment back,” says Jackson while shaking his head.

“We should have shared that as a team and with our families and we were all denied that, while the Russians were celebrating something that wasn’t theirs.”

This may be the end of the ‘meatwagon’ story, but the Russian doping saga is still playing out.

The latest twist has seen Russia handed a four-year ban from all major sporting events, which includes the Tokyo 2020 summer Olympics, Beijing 2022 Winter Olympics and 2022 football World Cup – subject to an appeal.

Jackson, Tasker and Benson are now retired from the sport. Fearon is still competing, but because of funding issues is spending the current season on-loan with the Swiss national team to earn enough money to carry him through to the next Winter Games.

Medals mean money. And that fifth place in Sochi meant the GB Bobsleigh team did not receive as much from UK Sport as they might have.

“A medal in 2014 would have completely changed my life and that of all my team-mates,” Fearon says.

Fearon, Tasker, Benson and Jackson celebrating with their (misprinted) bronze medals at long last, pictured in November 2019

When the four finally did get their hands on bronze – at the 2019 Team GB Ball in London in November – it wasn’t without another twist.

Jackson, Tasker and Benson were in playful mood upon arrival, having settled any pre-presentation nerves with “a pint or two… or maybe three” in a local bar on the banks of the Thames.

When Fearon joined, the three couldn’t help but observe how the sprinter – despite being the fastest man ever to push a bobsleigh – always managed to be late.

It was an emotional evening, and there were plenty of tears. Anderson looked on with pride. “Six years for this moment, it’s – well, I’m struggling to keep it together to be honest,” mumbled the former performance director as he reached for a tissue.

But within moments of stepping off the stage, they noticed something.

With the Russian team refusing to return the Sochi medals, the IOC issued new sets for the reallocation ceremonies. There was a mistake. The inscription read ‘bobsleigh four men’ when it should have been ‘bobsleigh four man’.

“You know what, it’s almost typical that after all this time they couldn’t even get that right,” Jackson says.

“To have a typo just sums up the whole farcical situation we’ve been through.”

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