---
layout:          post
title:           "MAGP 15 - Well Run"
date:            2024-05-09 15:00:00 # in UTC = GMT = London time
episode_type:      episode
tags:            []
voiced:          []
categories:			"tmagp"
podcasts: ["tmagp"]
title_prefix:	"MAGP"
prev_categories: ["tmagp"]
prev_prefixes: ["MAGP"]
prev_episode:	['014']
prev_episode_num:		['014']
prev_episode_title:		["Pet Project"]
next_categories: ["tmagp"]
next_prefixes: ["MAGP"]
next_episode:	['016']
next_episode_num:		['016']
next_episode_title:		["Anti-Social"]
episode_title:   'Well Run'
episode_number:  '015'
summary:         "CAT1RB6451-22062023-22032024<br/>Hunt (aristocratic) -/- compulsion"
content_flags:   ["Graphic Violence/Murder", "Futility", "Being Hunted", "Classism", "Dehumanisation", "Implied Cannibalism", "Hostile work environment", "Drowning (inc. SFX)", "Mentions of: blades, guns, military service", "SFX: Gunfire, loud music, suffocation"]
acast_url:      https://shows.acast.com/themagnusarchives/episodes/the-magnus-protocol-15-well-run
formats:
    Official PDF: https://rustyquillcom.sharepoint.com/:f:/g/ElFMfJSzHzRMhhWGghFX8E8Bg27o0_Amiemvu0Hqq8D6Yg
official:        true
# notes:          ""
---

#### ANNOUNCER

This episode is dedicated to Liesl Frank. Thank you Alex and Jonny and everyone at Rusty Quill for giving us Magnus Archives and Magnus Protocol. And thank you to Daniris Rodriguez, for showing me the Magnus Archives. I love you, and I'm so happy to have you in my life. 

##### [Intro Theme]

#### ANNOUNCER

Rusty Quill Presents: The Magnus Protocol.

Episode Fifteen -- Well Run.

##### [Music]

------

##### [Whirring and beeping as the CCTV audio starts up]

##### [Footsteps as Celia comes over, hm'ing]

##### [Sam stretches:]

#### SAM

Ahem.

##### [No response]

Uh -- _(pronouncing the syllables)_ Ahem? 

#### CELIA

_(unhurried)_ Oooone sec.

#### SAM

Ahem, please?

##### [CELIA chuckles]

#### CELIA

Sorry, go ahead.

#### SAM

Ahem --

#### CELIA

_(putting on a voice)_ Oh my, Sam! I didn't see you there! What can I do for you? 

#### SAM

_(playing along)_ I'm so glad you asked, Celia! I was wondering if you had perhaps dropped something?

#### CELIA

_(amused but confused)_ Don't think so... 

#### SAM

You're sure? Nothing small and ticket-shaped like perhaps -- _(flourishing, with a quiet "tada!")_ These incredibly-exclusive, hardly-discounted, barely-obstructed theatre tickets? 

#### CELIA

_(still amused)_ No! 

##### [Beat]

#### SAM

You're sure? Because they look like they'd be perfect for someone to use, mayyybe for a second date...?

#### CELIA

Yeah! Nothing to do with me.

#### SAM

_(earnest)_ So... is that a no to --

#### CELIA

_(giving up the act with a snicker)_ I'm just playing... What's the show? 

#### SAM

_(checking ticket)_ Oh, er... "The Pillowman"?

#### CELIA

Oh!

##### [She starts laughing.]

#### SAM

What? 

#### CELIA

Nothing. *Very* romantic choice. 

#### SAM

_(oblivious, genuine)_ Is it? I don't really know much about it, I just thought --

#### CELIA

_(teasing)_ Well, count me in. If only to see your face. 

#### SAM

Cool! Sorted, then.

##### [Footsteps from the door:]

#### ALICE

_(calling)_ Not so fast now!

##### [Sam sighs loudly.]

#### ALICE

I mean, sure you could both go canoodle in some stuffy old theatre --

#### SAM

_(flat)_ It's a good place to canoodle. 

#### ALICE

-- *or* you could hear one of the great up-and-coming music sensations that is currently taking the London scene by storm! 

#### SAM

_(still flat)_ Let me guess. Dredgerman? 

#### ALICE

Don't be daft, they're taking a break before their tour! No, it's "Penny for the Well," actually. 

#### SAM

But it is still Luke on the bass, right? How many bands is that boy in? 

#### ALICE

Let's just say that this revolutionary indie ensemble, which may or may not also include my incredibly talented younger brother, is playing The Gladstone Arms at ten thirty tomorrow evening, and you are both on the guest list! You're welcome.

#### CELIA

_(firm)_ ...I'm sure Luke is great, Alice --

#### ALICE

Oh he is!

#### CELIA

-- but I don't think I can make it. 

#### SAM

Anyway, we're going to the theatre. 

#### ALICE

Ah-ha. But that's the best bit. They're the last ones on, so you can do your boring play and then just swing by afterwards! 

#### SAM

_(warning)_ Alice...

#### ALICE

Oh *come on,* it's the weekend! Live a little! 

#### CELIA

_(strained)_ I'm sorry, but I don't think my sitter can stay that late.

##### [Beat]

#### ALICE

Your... sitter? 

#### CELIA

Yeah. There's no one else to step in, so... it's a thanks but no thanks from me.

#### ALICE

No, yeah. No, of... of course. So... Like, a dog sitter, or...? 

#### CELIA

A baby. ...Human. 

#### ALICE

_(kind of thrown, realising)_ Riiight.

...

Sorry. Y-Yeah, that's cool. _(strained)_ Babies are cool!

#### CELIA

I'll tell you what though, give me a bit more notice next time and I'll see if I can't get something sorted. I'd love to see your brother play. 

#### ALICE

Uh -- yeah, sure. 

#### CELIA

Anyhoo, don't mind me, I'm a bit behind tonight.

##### [She stands, getting her paperwork in order]

_(to Sam, quieter)_ Just ping me the details for the theatre later, yeah? 

#### SAM

'course.

##### [Celia walks away at a leisurely pace.]

#### ALICE

_(audible wince)_ So... 

#### SAM

_(standing)_ And you say *I'm* clueless. 

#### ALICE

What?

##### [Sam sighs and exits]

#### ALICE

_(calling)_ *What?* I said babies were cool!

##### [No response. She sighs; the CCTV turns off.]

------

##### [Beep. A phone recording begins.]

#### VOICEMAIL

Hi, you've reached The Sentinel tip-off hotline.

If you are calling with information that you believe merits investigation for the public interest, please leave a message with as much detail as possible along with your name and number.

If you wish to remain anonymous, please instead leave a three-word code at the start of your message that we can use to identify future calls or correspondence from you.

This voicemail is monitored by dedicated staff that are obliged to report serious crimes to local law enforcement if there is risk of imminent harm to anyone. Please speak after the tone. To end the recording, simply hang up.

##### [Beep.]

#### CATERER

_(breathing fast, panicked)_ Haah -- I need to report... something. I can't go to the police, I -- You're supposed to be independent and w-w-well, well, I've got to risk it. People need to know. _(voice shaking, still catching their breath)_ They need to know what's happening, what they're doing, and I don't know how much time I've got left.

I work as a caterer. High-end private functions, silver service, that -- that kind of thing. It's my own company, and I-I've managed to build up a decent reputation in the right circles.

We get called in for the... *really* high-end stuff. The, the kind of event where the -- the guest list is so rich that you've never even heard of them. There's a big difference between "extravagance" and "elegance," and. And we sell the latter.

We're not a big operation though. There were only six permanent staff including myself. We do hire in fixed-term waiting staff and -- _(breath)_ other contractors but even so... I knew these people. I worked with them for years and they didn't deserve what happened to them.

##### [The caterer has calmed down a bit; their voice is deeper and less shaky now]

We got the call a couple of months ago for a fairly small event at Wychwood Hall in the Cotswolds. Apparently, they had a family shoot and wanted us to prepare the game. Normally that would be pheasant or partridge and we'd just swap it for stuff we prepared off-site since _(disdainfully)_ no one could ever tell the difference -- but they were really explicit about it being larger game, and wanting to know whose kill they were eating.

That meant a lot more prep time and equipment -- _(annoyed)_ but they insisted, and at this level you don't get to tell the client no, just how much extra it will cost.

We set up the cooking gazebo during the early afternoon, in the rear gardens on the butler's instructions. The house itself was a massive sprawling Elizabethan thing with pristine flowerbeds and prim lawns that ran right up to the surrounding woodland. It wasn't -- usual to be given center stage like that, but I figured the client fancied themself a foodie, and just wanted to see the prep. Thankfully we brought the flashy gear, just in case.

Normally, you'd expect the shoot to have already been well underway by the time we arrived, but people were only just arriving in their tinted Range Rovers and Rolls.

I didn't say anythin', but I made damn sure everyone got a head start on the veg and the sauces because at this rate, it would be a miracle if they'd be eating before nine.

Another hour passed with a couple more cars trickling in, but still no one had even set out. Instead, I could see them through the leaded windows, just watching us work.

Finally, after another half hour I had the house staff fetch the butler. He eventually came out, dour as before, and I told him that unless he knew something I didn't, there was going to be a *distinct* lack of venison for tonight's venison medallions.

He just gave me this look, told me to "prepare," and then headed back inside.

Obviously that pissed me right off, but what can you do? They'd paid for the day, so we just hunkered down and looked busy. Finally, as the sun was starting to set a bloody red behind the woodland, the guns came out with their entourage, all tweed, Winchesters and dogs and in front of them marched this... matriarch.

I don't know how else to describe her. This big, imposing, like -- some Roman statue brought to life and given a *gun.* I kept thinking of my army days, cooking for the top brass. She had the same eyes, like they didn't see people any more, just "assets" and "resistance."

And if that wasn't enough, she had this huge custom rifle over her shoulder, like an antique elephant gun or *something.* There was *no* way it was UK legal. The thing looked like it could take out a jeep, never mind a stag! And it wasn't gilded or anything, it was dull and plain-looking despite its massive size, and you just *knew* that this was a gun for killing with, not showing off.

It was her domain, and she reeked of power and authority in every sense of the word, and when she spoke they all listened.

She had the guns all lined up facing us with their dogs at heel, and then they all just stood there, watching the sun set as their staff and security all headed back into the house, leaving us alone with them. That was when I knew something was *really* wrong.

The woman stepped forward with her dogs by her side and faced me with this bright and wide smile splitting her face under her electric blue eyes and gunmetal-grey hair. Then she just locked eyes with me and began to carefully load the rifle without looking, punctuating each word with another cartridge.

"Are you prepared?" she asked quietly.

"As we can be," I replied. "But--"

Then she raised her hand to silence me, and -- _(sounding almost sick)_ it was as though she had slapped a gag in my mouth. I couldn't even think of disobeying her, the words just -- died in my throat.

She returned to the group her dogs flanking her the whole way and her silhouette outlined in the blood-red dusk light. I couldn't make out any of the other's faces, dazzled as I was by the light.

Then she stood tall and proud and said with just the tiniest hint of anticipation: "Let's begin then, shall we?"

As one, the hunters raised their rifles, and as one, they levelled them at us as we stood transfixed under our gazebo.

There's a very -- specific feeling you get when you're staring down a barrel at close range. First, the world gets very sharp and bright. Then the horizon sort of shrinks around you 'til it's no wider than the dark hole aiming straight at you. It had been a long time since I'd felt like that, but it was still so familiar. Too familiar.

The woman hadn't raised her own weapon. Instead she called as though directing a firing squad:

"Hunt."

##### [The faint sound of drums in the distance.]

None of us replied. None of us even breathed. We stood completely still and silent, the only noise being the gentle breeze through the trees and the slight hiss of the red wine reduction boiling over beside me. There wasn't even any birdsong.

Then I realized. She wasn't talking to the other guns. She was talking to us.

After seconds that felt like hours, the woman seemed to grow impatient. Finally, she sighed and repeated: "*Hunt*" -- before shouldering her rifle, sighting and then pulling the trigger without hesitation.

There was a deafening gunshot that stabbed at my eardrums, leaving them ringing, and then a sudden clatter of someone falling to the ground behind me, dragging utensils down with them. I couldn't turn to see who was hit, but I-I think it was Steven.

He was only twenty-three. I know it was a headshot though. You don't forget that sound.

Without lowering the rifle, she chambered another round and re-sighted, this time at -- me. She smiled greedily then pumped her eyebrows just once. Playfully. "*Hunt!*"

And this time, I understood. Without taking my eyes from her I reached out and gently closed my hand around the handle of the cleaver in front of me. It shone, pristine and unblemished, ready for its bloody work. Then, slowly, so slowly, I raised it overhead, bracing myself for what followed.

The woman grinned widely, her finger caressing the trigger. I brought my hand down sharply, smashing the cleaver into the face of Marcus, our saucier. He couldn't even cry out as it cleft deep into the base of his neck, his arterial blood gushing out and down into the overly-hot pot, releasing a plume of acrid iron-smelling steam.

I looked down at his carcass and then wiped the blood from my brow and yanked the blade free with a *crunch* before turning to the rest of my staff.

They ran.

_(blankly)_ The party ate well that night. All told, it -- didn't take long, maybe a half hour at most? None of them got far. I caught Debra as she tried to hide up in a tree. Fair play to her, almost made it up there despite being in her fifties. Mira tripped over a rabbit hole in the darkness. I think she tried to beg, but I couldn't make out the words.

The only one who gave me any real trouble was Boris. He was a big guy, nearly six five, and that's a hell of a size difference, even with my training. But it wasn't enough. I had killed before, and he hadn't. He hesitated, and that was that.

As I was packing up, the woman shook my hand and complimented me. Then the butler handed me a thick brown envelope. It was full of cash and a note written in elegant cursive with just one word:

"Run."

And I did. Can't stay anywhere too long, can't stop moving. I keep hearing dogs barking, and I don't know if it's just some pet or --

I thought about handing myself in to the police, but that just feels like trapping myself in a dead end. So I'm getting out of the country. First the Channel Tunnel and then keep going until I've gone far enough that she can't --

Wait...

_(hushed)_ Oh no.

##### [Glass shatters from a sudden loud gunshot. The caterer is wetly silenced.]

##### [In the silence, the rain pours.]

##### [Someone approaches, reloading an enormous rifle:]

#### LADY MOWBRAY

Well run, dearie. Well run... 

##### [The line goes dead.]

------

<!-- 3. INT. O.I.A.R. OFFICE -- NIGHT, CLEAR (COMPUTER) CELIA takes a steady breath.  -->

##### [Celia takes a steady breath]

#### CELIA

_(disturbed)_ Well. That was... 

#### LADY MOWBRAY

_(drawling, too close)_ *Fascinating.*

##### [Celia sucks in a breath]

##### [Noises of dogs grumbling and panting]

#### LADY MOWBRAY

_(sharp)_ __Sit.__ 

#### CELIA

Excuse me? 

#### LADY MOWBRAY

I was *talking* to the *boys.*

##### [The dogs sit, unhappily.]

#### CELIA

_(staying calm)_ Can I... Can I help you? 

#### LADY MOWBRAY

I rather think you might.

##### [Mowbray sniffs her as though she were a particularly odd vintage. Then breathes out.]

##### [The dogs continue snarling softly in the background.]

#### LADY MOWBRAY

What did you say your name was, dear? 

#### CELIA

I __didn't.__

##### [Lady Mowbray chuckles slightly. Her dogs begin to growl louder.]

#### LADY MOWBRAY

My, we *are* an odd one, aren't we?

##### [She sniffs again, exhales.]

#### LADY MOWBRAY

And braver than we look. 

#### CELIA

_(low, steady)_ You're not allowed to be in here. 

#### LADY MOWBRAY

I was invited.

##### [The dogs' growling intensifies.]

#### LADY MOWBRAY

A fine specimen... strong and... *different*...

##### [Another inhale, exhale, slow]

What *is* that...?

#### GWEN

_(cautiously)_ Lady Mowbray?

##### [Beat of silence]

##### [The dogs suddenly sound smaller, more docile] 

#### LADY MOWBRAY

That's me, yes. I presume you're Gwendolyn Bouchard? 

#### GWEN

Er, yes. Thank you for coming in. If you'd like to follow me?

##### [Lady Mowbray hesitates.]

#### GWEN

...Lady Mowbray? 

#### LADY MOWBRAY

Hm? Oh, of course.

_(To Celia)_ Catch you next time, dearie. 

#### CELIA

_(darkly)_ No, you won't.

##### [Lady Mowbray chuckles, long and drawn out, as she falls in behind Gwen with her dogs.]

#### GWEN

_(departing, customer service voice on in full force)_ Can I get you any refreshments, Lady Mowbray? 

#### LADY MOWBRAY

_(departing)_ No, thank you dear. I recently ate. 

#### GWEN

_(suspecting)_ Ah -- mm. Of course.

##### [Their voices fade as they walk further away]

#### LADY MOWBRAY

_(distant)_ Bouchard... You wouldn't be one of the Cheshire Bouchards, would you? 

#### GWEN

_(distant)_ Oh! Uh, well actually --

##### [A door closes, cutting off their conversation.]

##### [Celia exhales shakily.]

##### [She starts typing again; the O.I.A.R. microphone turns off.]

------

##### [Phone dialtone starts up]

##### [We're in a club! Sudden rock music comes on as people cheer]

##### [A final guitar chord, a round of applause, and then some canned dance music starts up as people begin to disperse]

##### [Footsteps approaching:]

#### LUKE

_(calling)_ There she is! 

#### ALICE

_(sardonic)_ Oh my godddd, it's the guy from the *band!* Gosh! I'm giddy. 

#### LUKE

_(chuckles)_ I'm not surprised, the way you were flailing about. 

#### ALICE

How *dare* you. I am pushing the boundaries of what it means to dance!

#### LUKE

I won't argue with that. _(calling to barman)_ Pint of water, please, mate. With ice.

_(To Alice)_ Thanks for coming, Alice, you didn't have to...

#### ALICE

_(gesturing)_ Clearly! I thought this was meant to be a little chill -- side-gig -- thing? 

#### LUKE

So did I. Turns out that things are really picking up. 

#### ALICE

_(sardonic, wide-eyed tone)_ Hello? Yes? Is that *Glastonbury?* Why yes, we DO have a minute...

#### LUKE

You joke, but the managers already added seven more cities to the Dredgerman tour. 

#### ALICE

_(genuinely surprised)_ Oh *wow.* Fair play!

#### LUKE

_(to the barman)_ Cheers mate.

##### [Drinks are poured]

##### [Luke drinks, then sighs contentedly]

#### LUKE

How's Sam, by the way? It's been *years* since I saw that weedy git. 

#### ALICE

Same as ever. 

#### LUKE

Shame he couldn't make it tonight. 

#### ALICE

Yeahhhh, still, sometimes it's nice to hang out and have a drink, just the two of us. 

#### LUKE

Aw. I'm flattered. 

#### ALICE

You should be. Aaand, since the show's *over*... 

#### LUKE

_(to the barman)_ Two pints of Doombar, cheers. 

#### ALICE

_(smiling and genuinely happy)_ There we go. 

##### [The phone recording cuts off]

------

##### [Click.]

##### [Tape recorder fuzz: we're outside?]

#### VICTIM

-- The second time is up. I try to grasp the air and fill my lungs that burn and rattle full.

I can't. _(a long inhale)_ There's so much *air,* but none inside as I go down. Again the cold surrounds and drags me down, the blue, _(inhale)_ the black, the weight of all the sodden fates awaiting me below the line -- of sea and sky...

##### [This voice is faint, weak. The person inhales futilely.]

##### [Their words are becoming more and more rhythmic, almost a chant:]

I kick, I lunge I flail, towards the brightened blue and break the third and final time.

##### [Footsteps approaching from the distance]

I know I'm spent. There is no more within me save the salt-spun death that reaches down my throat --

#### ALICE

_(normal volume, calling)_ Hellooo?

##### [The victim shuffles towards Alice, stumbling, seemingly oblivious] 

#### VICTIM

_(barely a whisper)_ -- and spasms in my chest, that cannot breathe inside me --

#### ALICE

_(simultaneous, cautious/annoyed)_ Er, h-*hi?* Hello?

#### VICTIM

-- coughs and sputters and tries to push it out --

#### ALICE

Listen I, er -- I don't have any spare...

##### [The VICTIM stumbles then falls to the ground. A hard thud.]

#### VICTIM

-- but more comes in --

#### ALICE

_(startled)_ *Jesus!*

##### [The victim's stream of words continues unabated:]

#### VICTIM

-- and down I go the third and final time --

#### ALICE

A-are you -- are you *alright?*

##### [She cautiously approaches]

#### VICTIM

_(strangely peaceful)_ -- I know it's done. --

##### [Suddenly -- a rustle of fabric -- the victim has grabbed her]

#### ALICE

Oh shit! _(voice rising in panic)_ Get off! Get off me! Let *go!*

##### [Sounds of a brief struggle]

#### VICTIM

-- I'm done. The water is... is... dark --

##### [Alice manages to throw the victim off her, standing]

##### [The victim takes a rattling breath, then another. Wheezing.]

#### ALICE

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, shit, *shit!*

##### [The victim begins to choke.]

#### ALICE

C-Can you hear me? I'm --

##### [The victim lets out a watery cough, then another]

I'm calling for help, okay? Just -- just hold on. Yeah?

##### [No response. Alice quickly dials whilst the victim continues to cough and gasp for air]

#### OPERATOR

Thank you for calling 999. What's your emergency please?

#### ALICE

_(on phone, urgent)_ Ambulance.

##### [The operator replies, inaudible under the wheezing]

#### ALICE

Just round the back of the Gladstone Arms near, uh... L-Lant Street.

##### [The victim's gasps begin to slow down.]

#### ALICE

Yeah, there's someone -- I-I don't know if they've OD'd, but they're going into a fit or somethin'.

##### [Another gasp -- then a long, raspy sigh.]

#### ALICE

Uh, Alice.

#### OPERATOR

Thank you for calling.

#### ALICE

Yeah. And wait... Hang on... 

##### [Operator asks something]

#### ALICE

Oh, shit. Shit, she's stopped breathin' -- _(louder)_ yeah -- yeah, just *hurry!*

##### [She hangs up, audibly shaking]

#### ALICE

_(softly)_ Oh shit... oh shit...

##### [She takes a few bracing breaths, then hesitantly begins chest compressions, singing to keep time]

#### ALICE

_(rhythmic, singing under her breath and through her teeth)_  
Nellie the elephant packed her trunk, and said goodbye to the cir-cus  
Off she went with a trumpety trump, trump trump trump.  
Ne-Nellie the elephant packed her trunk, and said goodbye to the cir--

##### [Alice loses her rhythm, panting from the exertion and the panic]

##### [No response.]

Shit, shit. Shit. *Shit.*

##### [She picks something up. The sound shifts slightly -- it's the tape recorder.]

#### ALICE

What -- What is--?

##### [A voice. Faint. It's the victim's, bubbling up through the water and out of dead lips.]

#### ALICE

Holy *shit*...! You... But...

#### VICTIM

_(whispered)_ Deeper... Deeper... Down among the dead and swollen flesh so pale within this lightless place where -- eyes are open cloudy white. _(louder)_ And all the water pushes down upon a lifeless form --

##### [Alice shoves herself to her feet, hyperventilating]

##### [The tape recorder drops with a thud]

#### ALICE

_(terrified)_ I-I'm sorry. I can't -- I... 

#### VICTIM

-- that sinks and sinks down to the bottom...

##### [Alice backs away, then runs]

##### [The victim continues unabated -- ironically, their voice is much clearer after death]

#### VICTIM

...that is not there. No sandy grave below the swell no rest among the coral and the depths I feared... so much.

But reached up and over land. To claim me still.

##### [Click.]

------

##### [Music]

#### ANNOUNCER

The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Share-alike 4.0 International License. The series is created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall, and directed by Alexander J Newall.

This episode was written by Alexander J Newall and edited with additional materials by Jonathan Sims, with vocal edits by Nico Vettese, soundscaping by Meg McKellar, and mastering by Catherine Rinella with music by Sam Jones.

It featured Billie Hindle as Alice Dyer, Shahan Hamza as Samama Khalid, Anusia Battersby as Gwen Bouchard, Lowri Ann Davies as Celia Ripley.

The Magnus Protocol is produced by April Sumner, with executive producers Alexander J Newall, Dani McDonough, Linn Ci, and Samantha F.G. Hamilton, and Associate Producers Jordan L. Hawk, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetius d'Raven, and Megan Nice.

To subscribe, view associated materials, or join our Patreon, visit rustyquill.com. Rate and review us online, tweet us @therustyquill, visit us on facebook or email us at mail@rustyquill.com.

Thanks for listening.