‘Quite.’ McHayden rose from her chair, paced across the room and refilled her glass at the roll-top drinks cabinet beneath the window. ‘You’ve done well to bring this to my attention, George. Brandy?’
‘No thank you, ma’am. I don’t partake.’
She shrugged and returned to the desk, swilling a new drink.
‘Shall I bring the boy in?’ he asked.
‘No, not just yet, I think. This information puts us in control of the situation, and at this stage Sam Rayner is of greater value if he can be brought back in line.’
‘Yes, of course. And what about Fisher?’
The old lady lowered her glass and smiled. ‘Well now, if the time comes when Sam requires a gentle nudge in the right direction, then I do believe Lewis Fisher could provide just the incentive we need.’
9
On the evening of Christmas Eve, Sam climbed into the back seat of Dr McHayden’s car. He looked across to find her staring straight at him, her eyes unblinking behind her half-moon spectacles.
‘I’ve had the rest of the bottle of Tetradyamide you took yesterday analysed,’ she said. ‘The results were perfectly normal.’
Sam had spent the whole day worrying about how to play this exact situation. Now that it was upon him, he wasn’t sure Lewis’s plan would work, even if he had the nerve to see it through.
‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ he said, placing his hand on his knee to stop it shaking.
‘Really?’ McHayden took off her glasses and rubbed the lenses with the sleeve of her cardigan. ‘Do go on, I’m all ears.’
‘I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Dr McHayden. I knew the pills would be fine because I was able to manipulate time yesterday. There was a video, sent in mid-January. I saw Humboldt and…’
‘Yes?’ she said, looking completely unmoved.
‘He was in Chile, staying in a village and I…I saw a missile hit. There were people everywhere and some got caught in the explosion. I want to get the man who killed my father, but not like that. I didn’t want to be a part of it, so I lied to you. I told you I couldn’t travel in time.’
‘My dear boy, do you have any idea how serious this could be? I’m struggling to persuade the MoD and Clearwater Industries not to withdraw funding altogether.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Sam said. ‘I want the chance to make it up to you, to prove to everyone what I can do.’
‘What you saw yesterday was only one possible future, one in which we didn’t have the opportunity to mobilise a ground team and bring Humboldt in with minimal civilian casualties. Without your intervention, Sam, the event that you just described will still take place. By not passing on Humboldt’s location you will, in effect, allow what you saw to happen.’
This hadn’t occurred to Sam, but if anything it strengthened his bargaining position. ‘I can see that now,’ he said. ‘That’s why I’m telling you the truth. Please, Dr McHayden, I can find him again. Give me the chance to make this right.’
She looked across to Steele in the driver’s seat. He turned to face them, straightened his tie and fixed Sam in his gaze. ‘I’m not sure. The boy has already demonstrated that he cannot be trusted.’
‘But I can,’ Sam said. ‘I promise, I realise my mistake. Humboldt killed my father. I want him just as badly as either of you. Please, I’m begging you, give me another chance. You won’t regret it.’
McHayden blinked at long last. ‘It’s not normally in my nature to be so forgiving,’ she said, ‘but on this occasion I may be willing to make an exception.’
‘You’ll let me try again?’
‘After Christmas. I’ll need to visit Lanthorpe and Phelps this evening, of course. See if I can explain my way out of yesterday’s fiasco. From now on I need you to be completely honest with me, Sam.’
Although it was cold in the car, his hands felt clammy. ‘No more lies,’ he said. ‘I promise.’
‘Good.’ She narrowed her eyes for the briefest of moments. ‘If you and I are to achieve our aims, dear boy, there will be sacrifices along the way. Tomorrow I want you to think about where your priorities lie. You say that you want revenge for your father, but are you willing to do what it takes to achieve that?’
‘Yes,’ he said without hesitating.
‘Very well.’ She nodded to Steele, who climbed out of the car and opened Sam’s door for him. ‘In that case I’ll see you on Boxing Day.’
10
George let Rayner out and then climbed into the driver’s seat again. Looking into his near side mirror, he watched the boy gawping at the car from the road. After a few seconds Rayner shook his head, turned around, crossed over and began up the path to his house.
George started the engine. ‘So,’ he said after the initial growl had died down, ‘you’re letting him go then?’
‘Not at all,’ McHayden replied, smiling out of the window. ‘Sam is precisely where I want him. Until we are able to successfully replicate his injury, we need him compliant.’
‘But he doesn’t trust us, ma’am. He could run at any time.’
‘I very much doubt that.’ She flattened the pleats of her skirt. ‘What you have just witnessed, George, was an exercise in the art of appearing to give someone the very thing they most want.’
‘You mean revenge?’
‘I mean hope. If Sam still plans to reverse his initial discovery, then Tetradyamide is his only means of achieving that.’
‘I see,’ George said. ‘And we are his only supply of Tetradyamide. So, to the Ministry of Defence?’
‘No. At this stage I have no intention of embarrassing myself any further. We’ll continue to monitor the boy around the clock and, as an insurance policy, I want you to prepare a team ready to bring his friends and family in if he shows the slightest indication that he’s planning to run.’
‘Very good, ma’am,’ George said, and steered away from the curb.
11
Sam stepped through the front door and closed it behind him.
It was done. Lewis’s plan had worked.
After Christmas Sam would visit the Tempus Research Facility one last time, take Tetradyamide and then prevent McHayden from ever discovering him, therefore putting an end to the mess he’d made for himself.
The sound of raised voices came from the kitchen. He followed them and found his family seated around the table. Lance stood at the head, carving slices of meat.
‘You’re back early,’ Sam’s grandmother said. ‘You only left a few minutes ago.’
‘Something’s happened,’ he said. ‘They’ve made some arrests in connection with the plane crash, so they don’t need me this evening.’
‘Good,’ Chrissie said. ‘Does this mean you won’t have to keep disappearing off every night?’
‘I doubt it,’ Sam said.
‘Well, never mind.’ She stood up and went to fetch a bottle of sparkling wine from the fridge before returning to the chair next to Sam. ‘Would you like a glass? The hospital just called to say they’re discharging Mum in a few days. Her condition isn’t much better, but at least she’ll be home. That’s good news, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, amazing,’ Sam said, and allowed his sister to fill his glass. He should have been ecstatic, but something didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was the memory of McHayden’s face as she’d driven a needle into his arm in the terrible future that awaited him six months down the line. Having glimpsed her true nature the other night, he had expected McHayden to reprimand him more severely for lying to her. Although Lewis’s plan had gone down without a hitch, the whole thing had seemed almost too easy.
‘Aren’t you having any?’ Grandma asked after Chrissie had filled everyone’s glass except her own.
‘No, think I’ll stick to water,’ Chrissie said. ‘I can feel a bit of a headache coming on.’
‘Well, I’m not surprised, pet. You’ve probably been overdoing things lately.’
Lance looked up from the joint of beef he was carving, opened his
mouth as if he was about to say something, then caught Chrissie’s eye and closed it again.
‘Here, let me help,’ Sam said, pushing his chair back.
‘There’s a tray of roast potatoes in the oven,’ his grandmother said. ‘Could you get a serving dish out of the cupboard?’
Sam crossed the kitchen and froze. Lying on the counter was a strange, cylindrical object, roughly an inch long and the diameter of a pencil. There was a tiny lens at one end.
He picked it up and turned around. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘Get what, pet?’ his grandmother asked.
‘This!’ he said, showing her the object in his hand.
‘It’s one of your computer game gizmos, isn’t it?’
‘No, definitely not.’
‘Well, I found it on top of your wardrobe while I was cleaning your room, which was an absolute tip, by the way. What is it then?’
Sam placed the miniature camera back on the counter. McHayden had bugged his house. She was probably listening right now, and must have heard every word of his conversation with Lewis the night before. A sickening realisation dawned on him: she clearly had no intention of giving him more Tetradyamide or letting him find Michael Humboldt again. If Sam went with McHayden on Boxing Day, he would probably be setting up the very conditions through which he would become her prisoner for the next six months. He felt his knees wobble and had to grip the kitchen counter.
‘Dude, are you all right?’ Lance asked.
Sam shook his head, then went to fetch the notepad and pen from beside the telephone on the table in the hall.
‘What are you doing?’ Chrissie asked as he returned.
He raised his finger to his lips, opened the notepad and began to write.
12
George was in high spirits. Everything was now in place so that the Sam Rayner situation could be wrapped into a neat, tidy package, which was precisely how he liked things. After returning to Thames House he rode the lift to the fifth floor. Despite the building being almost deserted, Marshall grabbed him by the arm as soon as he walked into the comms room. George glared down at the appendage that dared crumple the material of his suit, noticing the dirt under his assistant’s fingernails with added distaste.
‘Let go of me,’ he said and growled so menacingly that Marshall released him and took a step back, his mouth a circle of surprise.
It took a moment for Marshall to find his voice again. ‘Sorry sir, I was just about to call you. It’s all gone quiet at Rayner’s house.’
‘What do you mean “gone quiet”?’
‘Maureen Rayner discovered the camera you planted in Sam’s room. She didn’t seem to know what it was, so I didn’t want to raise the alarm prematurely. But then a short while ago, over dinner, the whole family just upped and left. Like I said, it’s gone quiet.’
George cursed under his breath and peered at Marshall’s face. Did he detect a hint of insubordination in the man’s tone? No matter. Any retribution would have to wait; his worst fear had been realised and the boy had fled.
‘Sir, what do you want me to do now?’ Marshall asked.
‘Contact Dr McHayden then organise two assault teams, one to take Lewis Fisher and the other to take Eva Bernstein,’ George told him. ‘I’m going after the boy.’
He left the comms room and, jogging back to the lift, checked the application tracking Lance Asquith’s car. They were on the move, as he’d suspected.
After stepping out into the basement car park, George broke into a run and jumped in his car, barely registering the stain on the concrete that marked the spot where, on his command, a sniper’s bullet had ended his best friend’s life. He accelerated out of the building, one hand on the steering wheel and the other clutching his phone, the screen of which displayed a flashing red dot that was steadily working its way south towards central London.
George was less than fifteen minutes from intercepting Asquith’s car when the red dot stopped moving. He put his foot down hard, for once ignoring the speed limit. If they had ditched the car and were now proceeding by foot then the chances of catching Rayner were diminishing by the second.
13
Eva was sitting crossed-legged on her bed with Doug’s old laptop balanced on her knees. It was something of a relic and painfully slow, but any internet was better than none. She opened a new tab and brought up her emails. There was one from Nicole with the subject Happy Holidays. It contained an electronic card with a picture of an unhinged-looking Santa Claus attempting to cram himself, sack of toys and all, down a too-narrow chimney. Eva felt a twinge of homesickness. She typed a quick response and clicked the reply button.
It felt odd being apart from her sister at this time of year, however with divorce proceedings rumbling on the family Christmas had become a thing of the past. Nicole was still at an age when the holiday season had lost none of its magic, and a little of that had always rubbed off on Eva, even into her cynical teenage years. Nicole could be a brat sometimes – most of the time, truth be told – but she didn’t deserve to be stuck with Colette, who would probably spend the coming days blasted out of her mind on a combination of tranquilisers and eggnog. The house in Montclair had been dolled up with fairy lights and plastic snowmen for almost a month, whereas Doug’s London apartment was about as festive as a case of sunstroke. He hadn’t even bothered to buy a tree.
Eva opened a new tab and, on a whim, typed the words time travel into a search engine. Several million results were listed. Most contained links to Sci-Fi sites, however interspersed among these were some reputable scientific sites. She opened one at random and skimmed through the text. Although she had always believed time travel to be about as real as light sabres and little green men, there turned out to be some theoretical foundation behind the fantasy. Unfortunately most theories required travelling close to the speed of light or near a black hole, and it seemed unlikely Sam was capable of either feat. The whole thing was obviously just a gag at her expense, but…
Eva yawned and closed the laptop. Doug was already in bed. Even on Christmas Day he had an early meeting, but had promised to be back before noon. With no reason to stay up, she went to brush her teeth, ran a glass of water in the kitchen, then padded back to her room. She heard a car pull up outside as she slid into bed, and had just switched off the lamp when there was a clunk like a small object striking the window.
Eva sat upright. Was someone outside? No, of course not. Doug’s apartment was on the third floor, after all. Obviously her mind was playing tricks on her.
She had just laid her head back on the pillow when she heard the noise again. This time she yanked her bedcovers off and went to the window, her heart thudding in her chest. There was no way she could have imagined the noise twice. She inched the curtains apart and peered into the alleyway that led to a communal garden at the rear of the building. Sure enough there was someone lurking in the shadows. Eva fumbled on the table for her glasses and returned to the window. The someone was Sam. When he saw her he dropped a handful of pebbles, dusted his hands on the back of his jeans and waved. She waved back and pointed to the street in the direction of the door. He nodded and then disappeared around the front of the building.
Eva dressed quickly, pulling on the clothes she’d left hanging on the back of a chair. It was kind of corny to show up throwing stones at her window, but still romantic, not the kind of thing Trent would ever have done.
The smile fell away from her lips the moment she opened the door, however; standing in a line down the steps behind Sam were Chrissie, Lance and an elderly couple Eva guessed must be his grandparents.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I, er, didn’t realise you weren’t alone.’
Sam glanced over his shoulder, almost like he thought they were being watched, then back to Eva. He looked awful, kind of like he’d stayed up drinking coffee since the last time they’d met.
‘Can I…can we come in?’ he asked.
‘Okay,’ she said and stepped to the side. It
was a lot of people, she realised as they clumped up the stairs, and there wasn’t much chance of not waking Doug, but there was a nervousness among the group. As if by some form of primal instinct, Eva absorbed it and suddenly found herself hurrying the others along.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked once the door to Doug’s apartment was locked and bolted behind them. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Not by a long shot.’ Sam strode over to the window, parted the blinds and stared into the street. After a while he looked back. ‘I don’t think there’s anybody out there.’
‘Why would there be?’ Eva asked. ‘Tell me what’s going on, Sam. You’re scaring me.’
He let go of the blinds and took her hand in both of his. ‘I’m in big trouble, Eva.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Do you remember what Lewis told you about time travel the other day?’
‘Not this again—’
‘It wasn’t a joke,’ he said, tightening his grip on her hand. ‘After I came out of the coma I started having these weird fits. It was sort of like time got jumbled. I’d be doing one thing and the next thing I knew it was two hours later or an hour before. I had one at my dad’s funeral and found myself several hours ahead. We were watching TV and there was a news report about a bombing at a government building that evening. When I came round I was back in the church, so I called the police and tipped them off.’
‘I don’t get it,’ Eva said. ‘Why are Chrissie and Lance and your grandparents here?’
‘What I’m saying is that I couldn’t control it at first, but later I was contacted by someone called Lara McHayden. She works for the Security Service, but also runs a research group that has been working on a drug first discovered in the 1960s. She said it could help control my fits and channel them, so I’d be able to choose when they happen and how far into the past or future I go. She told me I could help catch the people responsible for sabotaging the plane that me and my parents were on. She told me my ability would be used for good, to protect people, but that wasn’t true. I’ve seen what she’s got planned, Eva. She wants to recreate my injury in other people, people she can control.’
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