Gone Underground

by Phil Brett

  ‘Like I said, Victoria, I don’t see what a bomb would achieve. If they wanted to tamper with the plant, it would be much better to do so via the Control Centre.’

  ‘Yes, you said. Comrade, would an air conditioning engineer have access to the Control Centre?’

  Kovac looked surprised by the question. ‘Er, no, only the technicians are allowed in there.’

  ‘But could an air conditioning engineer be down here?’

  ‘Er, well, I guess so. The air can get rather stale here. But—’

  Cole cut her short. ‘Is it possible that an explosive device could have been sent here through the system from another part of the plant? So it could have been swept here with the flow?’

  Kovac shook her head. ‘No. Any foreign body would cause immediate closure of that part of the system.’

  It all looked perfectly untouched to me but, in any case, I asked about another possibility. ‘Could a blow torch or a laser cutter or something like that have been used to open it up, place the bomb and so gain access inside?’

  Again, Kovac discounted the theory, saying that if any of the piping’s integrity was compromised, the system would close down to protect itself.

  ‘Well,’ Cole announced, ‘this looks clear. Let’s go to the next one. Please lead the way.’

  Before she did so, Janet Kovac asked if we had considered the possibility that the bomb hadn’t been placed yet.

  ‘I’m betting it has. Both Pete and I think the explosion, in itself, isn’t the main thing. What it does – is designed to do – is to set off a chain of events, with the culmination of them to occur smack bang in the middle of Jackie Payne’s speech at the international environment conference. That’s in seven hours’ time, so they have to allow time for whatever they have planned to run its course. No. We both think it is already in place.’

  The reply prompted Janet to walk very quickly onwards down a smaller tunnel to the one which we had just used.

  Cole asked her, ‘What is the location of this one?’

  ‘Zone E12, Section Beta, Level 4, Point: 12, 45!’ Janet shouted, hurrying ahead.

  It had taken us only a few more minutes to see another pipe junction, which looked pretty similar to our first one. Nothing was stuck on the outside of the pipes. There was no smoking fuse, huge ticking clock or a big sign saying BOOM! The bomb biros stayed safely in the blue. Nothing. We asked the same questions and were told the same answers. It was not possible that any bomb was inside the pipes. Zone E12 was clear then.

  But before we headed off again on our miasma mystery tour, Cole asked, ‘Am I right in thinking that, in addition to the junctions, all these tunnels also have cameras? I’ve seen a few on the way here.’

  ‘Mostly. It’s not one hundred per cent, because we use them to check on the pipes. So, where there aren’t any, we don’t have coverage, but it is enough to see what’s going on.’

  ‘And who is down here?’

  ‘Well, yes, which surely would mean that anyone planting a bomb would be seen?’

  It was a good point. One that had occurred to me, and I was certain to Victoria as well, but neither of said anything, apart from Victoria asking Janet to show us the next one.

  And so, we visited the next three locations. They weren’t far, although for two of them we did have to take another lift, but it was as Janet had said: everything was pretty close down here.

  We were now getting into a routine in our subterranean sightseeing tour: Get the location of our destination; walk a little way; look around some pipes; Victoria would ask what damage would be done if a bomb went off here. We’d get our usual answers; Janet would question what we were doing and then off we would go to the next one. Indeed, it was so smooth that, at the last one, Janet hadn’t waited to be asked but had just reeled off the answers. And so it was here.

  ‘This is Zone L3, Section Alpha, Level 4, Point: 12, 29. An explosion here would cause partial flooding and, in the first instance, a rush of water through the alternative pipe which would give a few sheep a cheap thrill with a slight vibration and . . .’ she paused to think for a second, ‘maybe some up-flow into the small ponds up above, but again it would be a matter of seconds before it was controlled. Again, it would be impossible to send an explosive device internally or cut into the pipes.’

  ‘No need!’ Victoria said, bending down underneath one of them and looking at a small grey box, the size of a brick. It was taped rather hurriedly and amateurishly to a pipe. We had seen nothing like that previously and both she and I were becoming experts on the extraction paraphernalia required. ‘Should this be here?’ she asked.

  Janet shook her head and mumbled rather excitedly, ‘No. No! That shouldn’t be there at all.’ She bent down, almost brushing Cole aside. Whether it was from seeing something untoward in the package or the fact that the light had now turned red, she now felt the need to shout, ‘Oh my God, it’s a bomb! I must ring security!’

  ‘We’ve found it!’ Cole said, like it was some chocolate Easter egg hunt.

  Janet was getting her phone out but, to my surprise and against what every molecule in my body was telling me, I stopped her. ‘No, don’t. Not yet!’

  She looked at me, astonished. ‘It’s a bomb!’ she yelled.

  Yes, indeedy. I think we were all in agreement about that, but now wasn’t the time for armed militia flooding down here.

  ‘You’re not going to defuse it?’ she asked, wide eyed.

  She obviously didn’t know too much about me. Art historians weren’t usually bomb disposal experts in their spare time.

  But I didn’t have time to enlighten her as to what we wanted to do, because just as she was about to speak, she closed her mouth and stared ahead. I followed her gaze, right towards a man wearing a large brown duffel coat and carrying a large black gun, which he was pointing straight at us.

  34. Fittonia albivenis

  Janet screamed, ‘Andy! What the hell are you doing?’

  Personally, I thought it was rather obvious. He was pointing a gun at us because we had found his little bomb.

  ‘Don’t move!’ he barked.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s you! It can’t be!’

  Well, there again, I thought to myself, Yes, it could he. He may look as if his scrawny body was disappearing into his waterproof hooded coat, but his gun was pretty macho. I vaguely remembered him from our interviews here. Not from any sparkling wit or dynamic personality: more his BO and his annoying voice. Then, there was the story he had told us that he had been working at the Thames Barrier, but they had only hazy records of him. He was one of the few that we had been unable to do a full background check on. We had narrowed the list down to four possible saboteurs here. Now, it was just down to just the one. So, it would have been more accurate to have said, ‘It is believable, but I couldn’t be certain that it would be you.’ But I guess she was pretty frightened, so I didn’t correct her.

  ‘Shut up, Janet,’ he squeaked.

  Seeing Victoria shift her weight, he pointed at her forehead with his gun. ‘I told you not to move, Cole. Or you, Kalder. Just stay stock still. Now, put your hands on your heads.’

  We did as we were told.

  He moved towards us. For someone who looked like an otter with bad skin and had garbage dump armpits, he could certainly be threatening.

  ‘Oh, no, Andy. Not you!’ Janet repeated. ‘You didn’t kill Olivia, did you?’

  For the first time since weedy boy had popped up, Victoria spoke. ‘No. He didn’t, Janet. This is just the monkey. The organ grinder is in London. It was they who killed Olivia and Youssef. They’re the important one, the one behind all this. Andy just follows orders.’

  He narrowed his eyes at Cole. It wasn’t a good look, making him look like an old-school cartoon character – a rather scary one.

  Cole was speaking in a perfectly calm voice, as you might if you were giving directions of how to get to the local supermarket. She wasn’t intimidated. She, though, was in a minority o
f one. ‘Although, let’s not deny him his glory. He probably did plant the bomb which killed Terry Walsh, not to mention several other tube workers. So, the monkey can perform certain tricks.’

  That end bit kind of spoilt her tone - directions are not usually that combative. Unless, that is, you were looking for a slap. Which made the fact that Victoria was doing so now, when the risk was greater than a bunch of knuckles in the face, seem rather odd. In fact, downright dotty.

  He grinned, making him seem even more like the figment of a computer animator. ‘Shame about Terry, but he was wavering in his support of the cause, so needs must. We couldn’t have him betraying us to Harrison.’

  ‘So, you blew up his sandwiches. How heroic for the cause!’

  My eyes darted towards Victoria, silently trying to request that she stop this baiting, because – well, call me Mr. Cowardly Custard of Custard City – now wasn’t the time.

  But he didn’t seem to take offence and just kept grinning. ‘Okay, Cole, that’s enough chat. Keep your right hand on your head, whilst with your left, use your fingers. Only your fingers, please. Pull you gun from your shoulder holster and toss it over to me. Kalder, you keep your hands on your head and—’

  ‘Andy, this is madness! There’s a whole militia outside. You can’t—’

  ‘And you, Janet – shut the fuck up!’

  Thankfully, all three of us did as we were told, with both my sisters refraining from abusing him. If Cole had thought about trying something, she had decided against it and simply slid her gun across the floor in front of her.

  ‘Now you, Kalder.’

  ‘I’m not armed,’ I lied.

  He laughed, which sounded like a parrot with diarrhoea. ‘I can see the bulge through your coat. It’s far too thin to hide that. Should have worn a winter one. Come on.’

  Even he was commenting on my attire. Good grief, is there an open season on giving bloody fashion advice?

  I slipped my hand under the coat and took it by my fingertips. I knelt down and slid it towards him.

  ‘That’s better. Now all put your hands back on your heads. You too, Kalder. Now all of you slowly turn around, with your backs towards me.’

  ‘So what’s the plan, Andy?’

  ‘Never mind that, Cole. That is not your concern.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that. We have our hands on our heads and you are holding a gun at us, so I think you could fairly say that it is. The explosive is not big enough to do anything but limited damage, so it is not the main point of this. So what is the plan? Who is the person behind this?’

  Before he had a chance to answer, Janet perked up again. ‘Think about it, Andy. You’ll never get away with it because the militia will kill you.’

  The sound of the parrot with digestion problems returned. ‘Oh, I’ll cope with them. It’s Kalder here that I’m worried about.’ He laughed, its pitch grating on my eardrums. ‘We know what he's capable of – firing dozens of bullets into a prisoner.’

  ‘It wasn’t dozens,’ I complained. Why do people exaggerate?

  He wasn’t in the mood for historical accuracy. ‘Whatever. Actually, you’ll be useful very soon, comrade.’ He didn’t enlighten me on how that might be and just again ordered us to turn around. I was the first to do so, then Cole, and finally, a still complaining Janet Kovac. She had now switched from pleading with his sense of self-preservation to a full blown tirade against him. She spat venom at his cowardly terrorism and his prostitution to fascism. You might question her tactical sense, but you had to admire her bottle.

  Worryingly, Andy Thomas didn’t think so. His amusement at our hatred wasn’t that deep. It was like some sap at school who pretends not to care that he has been told off, but then wells up with tears after thirty seconds.

  His mood had really turned. ‘Shut up!’ he squawked.

  She didn’t. In full outrage at his betrayal, she hurled more abuse.

  ‘Shut up! I said, shut up!’ She didn’t, and both his voice and anger level increased. ‘Shut it! I’m warning you! I said “Enough!” If you don’t stop, then you’re going to get a bullet in the back of your head. I don’t need you, Kovac. These two are enough.’

  She didn’t stop. Then something in his voice changed and something gritty entered his brittle whine. ‘You’ve had enough warnings. Time to stop!’

  For a second I expected a shot, but instead I heard a familiar voice yell, ‘It certainly is, Andy Thomas! I have a high velocity pistol pointing at the back of your pencil head. You make even the slightest move and I’ll sharpen it!’

  I didn’t know what was more gratifying: the sound of Roijin Kemal suddenly appearing and saving our skins or a rather fine use of a metaphor as both an insult and threat.

  ‘Now, drop the gun. Drop it!’

  As we heard the sound of it fall to the ground, the three of us spun around to see his pistol resting on concrete. And there was Kemal, her fine Turkish features clenched underneath a large woolly hat and her slim body wrapped in a knee length padded jacket. Her hands gripped a gun aimed right at Andy Thomas’s forehead.

  Then, thump! Janet threw a thunderous punch to his jaw. Thomas gave out a spine shrivelling yell and fell to the floor. He was out cold. For a short woman, she certainly packed a whack.

  Cole gave an admiring laugh, whilst she picked up her gun and took out a pair of handcuffs. Roijin was holstering her gun. ‘Sorry, Vic. I know you would have wanted me to give him enough time to tell us who the person is behind this, but I feared he was going to kill this woman.’

  Gently, Cole brushed the apology aside. ‘You did well, Roijin. Thank you. To be honest, I doubt if a low-grade foot soldier like him would know anyone at that level.’ Then, with rather less gentleness, she grabbed an unconscious Andy Thomas and handcuffed his wrists together behind his back. Janet Kovac stood there, just vacant. ‘Sit down, Janet. You’ve had a shock. Janet, you need to straighten your glasses.’

  Cole flashed me a look. I went up to Janet and put her glasses back on the bridge of her nose. ‘Here, sit on this large pipe here—’

  Suddenly, a thought flashed in my head.

  Roijin must have read it, because now with her palm-top in her hand, she answered my unspoken question. ‘It’s safe, Pete. The device is set to go off in 49 minutes and—’ She tapped on her screen. ‘There is no security protection. Obviously, he didn’t expect to be interrupted, so I can get in and hopefully, from there, disarm it.

  ‘You can do that?’ I asked, impressed.

  ‘Yes, luckily for us, bombs have gone past the stage where you have to guess which wire to cut. This is simply a matter of finding my way in.’

  I stroked Janet’s back; she was sitting bolt upright and staring ahead. She wasn’t used to having guns pointed at her. I was like that once. Nowadays, it seemed like a normal day at the office. Cole was slapping Thomas and shaking him, trying to get him conscious. At the moment, all she was getting was mumbles and incoherent noises. That just provoked more slaps.

  My attention was drawn back to Kemal, as she announced, ‘There we are. All safe. Completely disarmed.’

  ‘Can you tell what sort of damage it would have done?’ I asked her.

  ‘Well, it was hardly a thermo-nuclear device. It would have been enough to take out the lower upsurge pipe. That would have led to seventy odd seconds of water pouring into here. As an emergency measure, the top upsurge pipe would have taken over, causing slight tremors in the neighbouring land up above. It is quite possible that some underground streams and nearby ponds would have had water pushed into them. If nothing else had occurred, then the Control Centre would have launched emergency protocols and it would have been halted. But, as I have found, that wasn’t going to happen.’

  I nodded and had to admit to being even more impressed. ‘You hacked into the Control Centre!’

  ‘Of course!’ she said proudly.

  ‘Is that how you knew exactly where we were?’

  ‘Partly, although Vic was rather unsubtly g
iving your location out loud with her phone on.’ She chuckled at her friend’s naïveté. ‘She needn’t have bothered, because I was tracking her phone and matching it with the plant map. I also had the cameras to use.’

  That was a thought. ‘Can they see us?’ I asked.

  ‘No. They’re seeing this.’ She showed me film of the place we were in, looking perfectly calm and tranquil and without four concerned comrades and one stunned terrorist who was nursing a broken jaw and moaning about the pain. ‘It’s film from a previous time and just looped in. Pretty much what they did to the camera at the Battersea car park when Olivia was murdered. It's also how this one managed to place the bomb.’

  ‘You said that you knew what else he was planning.’

  ‘Yeah, I think so. There has been a change to the protocols in the last few hours. They’re linked to an unregistered mobile phone.’ She tapped the side of the palm-top and a phone began to ring. In Andy Thomas’s pocket. ‘Well, that solves that mystery. Anyway, he could operate it from his phone. By activating it, the pressure would increase and out of the working upsurge pipe, the water would increase in power.’

  ‘With what effect?’

  ‘She’d know better,’ she replied, indicating Janet. But seeing that the woman in question barely knew what planet she was on, Kemal knew it wasn’t worth asking, so she had a go herself. ‘From what I have very quickly seen and can surmise, it would mean further minor shocks, perhaps as far as Brighton. But we’re talking, at worst, shaking crockery, nothing more. There might be a few occasions of water coming from domestic plug holes, but again, only at a low level. We’re not talking disaster movies here. The altered protocols would only work for so long. There are emergency measures which cannot be overridden and they would kick in after a matter of minutes. I’m an amateur, but I cannot see any fatalities or even injuries from the effects. I’d also say that there would be no long-term damage either.’

  Cole joined us, clutching Thomas’s phone and looking cheesed off. ‘Can’t get anything from him. He’s perfectly okay, but he is putting it on. He won’t talk. I don’t think it is worth wasting our time on him, because we haven’t got that much to spare.’