The Metropolitan Police and the F?hrer's Tea Machine

For the officers of the Cold, Cold Case Unit, the most dangerous thing they usually face is a jammed stapler.

Tucked away in a forgotten sub-basement of New Scotland Yard, Sergeant Lisa Cartwright and her team of police misfits are where careers go to die. Their days are a soul-destroying cycle of reviewing long-dead cases, from suspected arson at a wax museum to authenticating bags of old bus tickets. It’s a procedural nightmare, and the only thing getting murdered is their morale.

Until a new tea machine arrives.

It’s a bulky, beige relic from the 1970s, found in an old evidence lock-up. It’s also German, has a strange serial number, and hums with a power that feels ancient and menacing. When Lisa, in a fit of frustration, tries to order a coffee and presses the large, unmarked red 'vend' button, she doesn't get a hot beverage.

She gets a temporal displacement.

One minute they're in a dreary London car park; the next, they're in 1071, facing down a very confused and very angry Norman knight who doesn't care about the Public Order Act.

Suddenly, the most incompetent team in the Met is armed with riot shields, PAVA spray, and a time-travelling tea machine. They are history's only hope, which is a terrifying thought for everyone. As they careen through the past, from the arenas of ancient Rome to the deserts of Roswell, they uncover a chilling conspiracy: a rogue faction of Nazis, left over from WWII, are trying to rewrite history and build a new, eternal Reich.

Led by a Sergeant who believes in risk assessments for staplers, and comprised of a weary ex-businessman, a history nerd who can't help but correct people, a social media addict, and a wisecracking charmer, they are the wrong people, in the wrong time, with entirely the wrong equipment.

They're out of their jurisdiction, out of their depth, and almost out of tea bags. But when a plot to unmake the world comes to light, they're the only ones who can stop it.

History is about to get nicked.