Every Second Counts

by Sophie McKenzie

  Aaron. With a gun in his hand.

  Charlie

  It was the middle of the night and I was wide awake. I got out of bed and checked the bedroom door was still securely locked. It was, so I crept back into bed and closed my eyes.

  Sleep refused to come.

  It was surreal – not just being in Riley’s house, but being indoors at all. Yesterday evening in the unheated safe house, with its bare lights and cold water, already felt like several years ago. Riley had insisted I ate, washed and slept before we talked properly in the morning. Martina had run me a bath frothing with bubbles and left me shampoo, towels and a huge bathrobe to put on afterwards. I accepted all this hospitality feeling deeply unsettled. Riley seemed to have accepted my curiosity about my father at face value. He had asked no further questions, not about Nat or the resistance – which he surely knew existed – nor what I’d been doing since I last saw him. I didn’t get it. Riley must know that I hated him, for goodness’ sake. He had told me to my face that he organised the Canal St Market bomb which killed Mum. He was too smart to think I’d have forgiven him for that, to trust that my motives were as straightforward as I said they were – and yet here I was, treated like an honoured guest.

  It had been almost midnight by the time I left the bathroom wrapped in the fluffy bathrobe, my clothes clutched in my hand. Martina appeared as if by magic from a nearby room. She reached out for my jeans and hoodie.

  ‘I’ll have them washed and aired by morning,’ she said in her crisp voice.

  I hesitated, then handed the clothes over. Inside my robe pocket I was hiding a pair of nail scissor that I’d found in the bathroom cupboard. They were short-bladed, but sharp enough to do some damage if anyone tried to attack me. I followed Martina into a large, elegantly furnished bedroom. I gazed around, taking in the polished wood of the dressing table and the four-poster bed. Thick green and fawn curtains hung at the windows. There were matching cushions on the brown chaise-longue at the end of the bed. My feet sunk into the deep beige carpet. It was all so luxurious, especially after my weeks on the run.

  ‘There’s a fresh bottle of water by the bed and a bell you can use to call me if you need anything.’ Martina indicated the wooden cabinet beside the four-poster, above which a long, tasselled cord hung from a brass fitting on the wall. Okay?’

  ‘Er, yes, thank you.’

  ‘Goodnight then.’ Martina left the room, shutting the door behind her.

  I locked it immediately, grateful there was a key, then went over to the bed. A pair of white silk pyjamas had been laid out on the pale green duvet. I was guessing they were Martina’s. I checked the door was still properly locked, then scrambled into the pyjamas. They were soft and smelled of soap powder. I got into bed and rested my head on the pillow. Now my hair was cut so short it dried more or less instantly. I liked the lack of fuss – though, if I was honest, sometimes I missed my long curly hair too. I put the sharp nail scissors in the bedside drawer right beside me, then lay back.

  I was still lying here now, hours later, listening out for the sound of anyone creeping about outside. The house was silent. I wondered where Nat was. Julius and Lennox had been due to leave the safe house tomorrow. Would Nat go with them? With a pang I wondered how I would get in touch with him. I could have attempted to fish my mobile out of Riley’s pond, but there was no point; it would be damaged beyond repair by now.

  I could always use the draft email method to try and reach him, though there was no knowing when he would next have a chance to check for messages. I turned over on my side. There was a tight feeling in my chest. It was a long time since I’d lain in a comfortable bed. I missed Mum suddenly. There were days now where I went for hours without thinking about her, then all of a sudden grief would hit me like a wall, taking my breath away with an agonising smack.

  I squeezed my eyes tight shut. I wanted Nat’s arms around me. Until we’d arrived at the safe house yesterday we’d been close. Really close. In fact, despite Nat’s reluctance to talk about his feelings, I’d even wondered if we were in love. In love. I rolled the words around my head. We’d admitted that we liked each other, but we hadn’t said those words. Did Nat feel them? Lying there without him I knew that I did, though I hated to admit it. A sob rose from my chest, into my throat. I swallowed it down, determined not to cry. Missing Mum and Nat did me no good. I had to focus on Riley and getting evidence against him. I lay, listening to the sound of my own breathing. I was never going to get to sleep tonight.

  Nat

  There was no time to hide. Aaron had blundered into the small clearing so fast that he saw me straight away. It was dark in depths of the woodland, but here on the edge of the trees the moonlight was bright.

  We stared at each other. All the blood felt like it was draining from my face. Aaron was panting, trying to catch his breath. I glanced at the gun in his hand. I could only make out its outline, the detail was hidden by the shadow of his body, but it didn’t look anything like the Glock semi-automatics we’d been trained on. In fact I couldn’t place it at all. How on earth had Aaron got hold of it?

  I couldn’t believe I had walked into his trap. I looked around, expecting to see masked men emerging from behind the trees. But no one came. The only sound was that whisper of the branches in the wind: leave, leave and Aaron’s breathing, heavy and laboured.

  ‘Man, you have stamina,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Stamina. I’ve been following you since you reached the wood. I’m fast but you were running for nearly half an hour without stopping. I thought I’d lost you twice.’

  I frowned. What was going on? I looked around again. Still no sign of any EFA soldiers. Was Aaron here on his own? I stared at him.

  ‘How did you know where I was?’

  Aaron pointed to my phone. ‘I knew you’d come to this area, and I’d already got the money, so I took a cab.’

  ‘All the way here?’ I stared at him.

  He shrugged. ‘Your phone gave me your exact location when you switched it on for two minutes. I took my cab to the edge of the wood, then—’

  ‘You tracked my phone?’ My voice was an indignant whisper.

  ‘I used my dad’s secret GPS stuff. I told you already, he’s been giving a whole load of high-tech equipment just like it to the resistance.’

  ‘So why are you here?’ I demanded.

  ‘Helping you get Jas,’ Aaron said. ‘Like I told you I would.’

  I shook my head. This was a rescue that Aaron was spectacularly untrained and unprepared for.

  ‘I see.’ I pointed to the gun in his hand, still hidden in the shadow of the nearest tree. ‘And what about that?’

  Aaron grinned and a dimple appeared in the centre of his flushed cheek. ‘This is just an old toy of mine,’ he chuckled. ‘Thought it might come in handy.’

  For goodness’ sake. ‘This isn’t a game you know,’ I spat. ‘The last time I was here I nearly died.’

  ‘I know.’ The smile fell from Aaron’s face. ‘I know how serious it is. I came all the way here from London. I stole money. My parents will be furious. But I want to help.’

  ‘I don’t need your help,’ I said, feeling deeply unnerved. I’d been totally on track before, thinking through how I would sneak into the ops base as I’d done before and search for Charlie. Aaron was just getting in the way. ‘I’ll be faster and quieter on my own.’

  ‘I can be fast and quiet.’

  ‘Really? You sounded like a bear on a ramble just now.’

  Aaron looked crestfallen.

  ‘And that gun won’t help either,’ I persisted.

  ‘Why not?’ Aaron held it up. ‘It fooled you.’

  ‘Only because it was dark. Indoors it won’t fool an EFA soldier worth his salt for more than a few seconds.’

  ‘A few seconds could make all the difference,’ Aaron argued.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ I said. ‘Show me how you use it, then.’

  Aaron obediently held out the gun in f
ront of him like it was a baton. ‘Hands up!’ he said.

  ‘Stop pratting about,’ I snapped. ‘Here, if you have to hold it, hold it like this.’ I rearranged his fingers so that his grip looked more convincing. Then I took the gun off him and shoved it down the back of my trousers.

  ‘What are you—?’

  ‘If you want to come with me, you have to do exactly what I say. Deal?’

  ‘Deal.’ Aaron paused. ‘Jas said you were grumpy.’

  ‘Shut up,’ I said.

  ‘Okay, boss.’ Aaron mimed zipping his lips. ‘What do we do next?’

  I peered through the trees again. Desperate though I was to find Jas, it was just too risky to attempt a move on the ops base right now. ‘We’re going to have to wait until daylight, just another couple of hours, then assess how many people are in the house.’

  ‘We’re going to wait?’ Aaron sounded seriously disappointed.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’ll work out what to do when we know how many EFA soldiers we’re up against.’

  Charlie

  I woke with a jolt. It was daylight, with bright sunshine seeping in around the curtains and someone was knocking on the door. I sat upright, taking a second to remember where I was and why I was here.

  ‘Charlie?’ It was Martina, outside the bedroom door. ‘I have some juice and toast for you, I’ll leave it outside.’

  ‘Okay, thanks.’ I got up and padded across the room. I opened the curtains – my room looked over the back garden – then I went to the door and unlocked it. A tray of food and my clothes, clean and neatly folded in a pile, lay on the carpet outside. I brought them inside, ate and drank and dressed, then ventured out on to the landing.

  As before, Martina appeared seconds later, emerging from another room across the landing. She looked even more stylish and elegant than she had done last night, in a pale pink dress with a thin belt and her blonde hair tied off her face in a sleek ponytail. She smiled at me, but it was hard to tell whether it was genuine.

  ‘Roman is waiting for you in the living room.’ She flicked the ponytail off her shoulder. ‘I’ll take the tray.’

  I watched her disappear downstairs. After a surprisingly good sleep I felt more confident than I had last night. Whatever happened regarding my dad, I would surely have time today to start looking for proof I could use against Riley.

  Along the landing, I headed for the office which Nat and I had broken into last year. Our cell leader, Taylor, had sent us to download information off a computer as a test to see whether we made the grade as trainee EFA agents. We hadn’t known we were breaking into Riley’s office then, of course. I flushed with humiliation as I remembered how easily we had been fooled.

  As I approached the office, a masked EFA soldier appeared from around the corner. He spotted me instantly and stood, arms folded. I stopped too. The guy was huge, there was definitely no way past him. The soldier pointed to the stairs. I turned and sped away. Never mind, hopefully I’d get a chance to check out the office later.

  Riley looked up as I walked into the living room. He seemed more distracted than he had been last night, his eyes less intent on me, as if he had other things on his mind.

  ‘I’ve been in touch with your father,’ he said immediately. ‘He is eager to meet you, but he can’t come here, so we’ve decided it’s best for you to go to him. Today.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Today? Where does he live?’

  ‘I can’t tell you, but it’ll be a few hours’ drive.’ Riley got up. ‘Look, I’m sorry I don’t have more time to spend with you before you go, I know your father would have preferred that.’ He paused and it struck me that perhaps all Riley’s hospitality came down to some weird obligation he had to my dad. He’d described him before as some kind of international leader of the EFA and other groups. For the first time I wondered exactly how deep the connection between them went.

  ‘Anyway,’ Riley went on, ‘as you know, I’m very busy. There’s the general election at the end of next week and I’m speaking at four different rallies today, so I have to leave in a minute, but Martina will give you anything you need and . . . and then, like I say, she’ll take you to meet your dad.’

  ‘Right,’ I said. My head spun. ‘Er . . . so he really is alive?’

  Riley stared at me. His expression softened. ‘Yes, he is.’ He walked over to a table in the corner of the room and picked up a sheet of paper. ‘I’m sorry, Charlie, I’m forgetting how little you know, but don’t worry, your father will explain it all to you. I know how keen he is for you to join him . . .’ He smiled. ‘To join us.’

  Was that really the plan? Was Riley seriously prepared to trust me? Or had he made up the whole thing about my dad in order to manipulate me? Just as he had invented other things to manipulate me before.

  ‘Can’t you tell me anything?’ I asked, wondering if Riley would falter if I pressed him for details, ‘How come I thought my father was dead all these years? Are you saying my mum lied about that? Or Uncle Brian? How come you’re so sure this guy you’re in touch with is my dad?’

  Riley handed me the paper in his hand. ‘This shows the results of a DNA test. You and your dad.’

  My mouth gaped. I hadn’t been expecting that. ‘You took my DNA?’

  ‘A swab inside your mouth while you were asleep after a training session earlier this year.’ Riley shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, but once your father realised you might be his daughter we had to act – and there seemed no point telling you anything until we were sure.’

  ‘I see.’ I looked down at the DNA test result, trying to focus on the dense black type.

  ‘Ignore the man’s name on the form, it’s a false one,’ Riley said. ‘Your father lives under a secret identity.’

  I looked down at piece of paper. My name was there along with the 99.89 percent probability that I was the offspring of the man named on the form. ‘But why—?’ I started.

  Riley cut me off with a wave of his hand. ‘I really can’t tell you more, Charlie. It’s up to your dad to fill you in on all the history. But I can say that to the best of my knowledge both your mother and your uncle believed your father died when you were a very little girl.’

  My head spun. Even if all this was true, how on earth was I going to get evidence against Riley now? ‘Why can’t my dad come here?’ I asked.

  Riley sighed. ‘Because you’re not the only one who thought he was dead. If he was seen in public, if the authorities realised he was still alive, it would be dangerous for him.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Is he wanted by the police or something? You said, before, that he was the leader of the EFA, of several groups around Europe. Did he break the law doing that?’

  ‘Leader isn’t exactly the right word, though in the purest sense it’s true.’ Riley hesitated a moment. ‘Your father is a freedom fighter and a political philosopher. I already knew what was wrong with our country when I met him. But your father opened my eyes to how exactly it could be put right.’

  ‘I see,’ I said, though I didn’t really see at all. I’d been so overwhelmed by the possibility that my dad might be alive, that I hadn’t given much thought to who he might be as a person. He sounded idealistic, which fitted with things Mum had said. Was it possible that he had some beautiful vision for the human race that Riley had twisted to suit his own, power-hungry ambitions?

  ‘So my dad isn’t the boss of you in a practical sense?’ I asked. ‘But he is, like, an inspiration? For you and other people?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Riley said. ‘Now, I really have to go.’

  And with that he swept out of the room.

  I sat back on the sofa, my mind reeling. It sounded like this man who said he was my dad was smart. But was he smart enough to realise what Riley was doing in his name? Sometimes intellectually smart, idealistic people didn’t see what was going on under their noses. Maybe I’d be able to show him. Maybe, if he really was as keen to see me as Riley said, he would listen to what I knew. Perhaps, once he understood
how evil Riley was – how Mum had died in the marketplace bomb – he would even give me the evidence I needed against Riley.

  I really wanted to let Nat know what I’d learned. If I could make it up to Riley’s office I would surely be able find a computer or a smartphone that I could use to leave Nat a draft email, then delete the record from the hard drive – a neat trick which Taylor had taught us when we’d been training. And, once I was in the office, I’d be able to search for evidence against Riley, just as I hoped to do earlier.

  Intent on this new plan, I slipped out of the living room. Before I had taken even a single step across the hall Martina appeared again.

  ‘Looking for something?’ she said sharply. ‘Because I’d much prefer you to ask and let me fetch it for you.’

  I stared at her, my heart beating fast. It struck me that under that elegant pink dress Martina was as strong and muscular as the other female EFA soldiers I’d met.

  ‘Am I a prisoner, then?’ I demanded.

  ‘You’re a guest,’ Martina insisted.

  I glared at her as Riley emerged from the kitchen, head buried in his phone. He looked deeply troubled, but when he looked up and saw I was standing in the living-room doorway, the frown fell from his forehead and an easy smile curved around his lips.

  ‘Was there something else, Charlie?’

  I glanced at Martina. She said nothing.

  ‘I just wanted to speak to you again. I mean, you can’t expect me just to get in a car with a complete stranger –’ I pointed at Martina, ‘– without telling me something about where I’m going.’

  ‘Martina and I have been together for the past couple of years,’ Riley said smoothly. ‘As I already told you, she’s a trained EFA agent, just like you. That’s how we met, in fact. She has my complete trust and therefore should have yours.’ The firm tone with which he spoke made it hard to contradict him, but I was well aware this could all be a trap, that Riley could simply be getting me away from his house – and any connection to him – in order to keep me away from the very evidence I was searching for. And to have me killed.