Infiltrators (The Wall Series Book 2)

by Alison Ingleby

  The tops of the crates are scattered with a handful of seemingly random objects. A long counter lines the right side of the room, with a hotplate and a hole in which sits a bucket. A couple of pans hang from the wall above. Under the counter are shelves with a few utensils and some bottles of water. No sign of food.

  Giles gives a mock bow, trailing his fingers through the air. “Welcome to my sanctuary.”

  “It’s wonderful,” I say. And it is. Puts my roof to shame. It feels a bit like Abby’s house. A real home with a real person living here. I look at the pale, hunched figure dressed in rags and struggle to connect this man with the bright colours and cosiness of the room. I’d kind of imagined him living in a dark pit.

  “Where do you get the electricity?” He must use a lot of it.

  “Solar panels.” He points a finger at the ceiling.

  “And you built all this yourself?”

  He nods, and there’s a gleam of pride in his eyes.

  I step further into the room. Giles shuffles awkwardly and I can tell me being here makes him uncomfortable. “Why do you live here? In the jungle?”

  “I had to disappear. And no one comes here. The few that do think I’m a ghost. Or a freak.” He smiles. “Not a person worth bothering with. Which is fine by me.”

  He speaks normally. No hissing. I wonder if that’s part of the act. To make people leave him in peace.

  I walk over to a small table that’s piled high with boxes, tools and bits of wire. Giles reaches out an arm, then quickly pulls it back. “Don’t touch!”

  I raise my hands in the air. “Fine.” It all looks like junk to me anyway. “Why did you have to disappear?”

  It’s a casual question, but from his reaction, you’d think I asked him why he eats babies for breakfast. He turns on me, his eyes scrunched up and his face twisted into a distorted mask. “No questions!” he hisses.

  “Okay, okay, sorry.” I take a step toward him and reach out a hand, but he flinches away from me. “Sorry.”

  He shrugs and turns his back to me.

  What a strange guy.

  I turn back to the table and a pair of black boxes catch my eye. One looks like a work in progress, a tangle of wires and metal chips, but the other looks complete.

  “What are they, Giles?” I point, careful not to touch anything on the table.

  Giles turns. His eyes brighten, and he straightens and walks over to me with quick, light steps. “They’re combined control units. This one is a completed version, but there’s a glitch in it.” He lifts the black box to show me. “But I’m working on a new prototype.” He indicates the tangle of wires and launches into a technical explanation. At least I assume it’s some kind of explanation – I barely understand a word of it and find myself tuning him out.

  Trey would know what he was talking about.

  There’s a pause in the flow of words and I catch Giles staring at me. “That’s amazing. You must be smart to know how to use all this stuff.” I wave my hand vaguely at the table.

  Giles ducks his head in embarrassment. “There is so much to learn, to discover,” he murmurs.

  “Giles, I need to ask you something,” I say carefully. “You remember the Metz officer I told you about? The one who remembered me?”

  Giles nods cautiously.

  “Well, we managed to get his helmet off. He … what they see through the helmets is different, isn’t it? It’s not what we see?”

  Another nod.

  “I think he’s a good person. Not the sort of person who wants to be killing people. And I thought, if I could show him what really happens on Metz operations, it might change his mind and he’d help us. I don’t think he can come outside without his suit, can he?” I don’t wait for an answer. “He wouldn’t be able to get out of the compound. But I’m sure they have records of their operations inside the compound. And if I could get in and show him what really happened, then he’d have no choice but to believe me.”

  I pause and hold my breath, waiting for his reaction.

  “You want to go inside the compound?”

  I nod. Giles throws his head back and laughs. It’s a high-pitched, manic laugh that makes me shiver and take a step back. Then he jerks his head back down and snaps his lips shut into a smile. Or at least, I think it’s supposed to be a smile. It looks more like a grimace.

  “And they call me crazy.”

  “But if I could get in, then would you know how to access the computer system? The records of past operations?”

  “If you could get in? How are you planning on doing that? The place is impenetrable!”

  “You got out.”

  It’s a shot in the dark, but from Giles’s reaction I know I’ve hit close to home.

  “I had help,” he says, drawing himself up. He’s not as short as his usual hunched appearance makes him look.

  I’m itching to know more, but don’t want another “no questions” closing off our conversation. “Let’s just assume I can get in. How can I get around the place?”

  Giles shrugs. “They’ll pick up your chip within ten metres of the place. You won’t even get in. Unless …” He looks at me slyly. “Unless you don’t have a chip, of course?”

  I stare back, my expression neutral.

  “Interesting,” he muses, drumming his fingers on the black box he’s still holding in his hand. “Well, you could pretend to be a recruit, if you can get hold of a suit. Most officers don’t know who the recruits are. But this officer of yours would need to take you everywhere. You wouldn’t be able to access different areas without him.”

  “Wouldn’t they recognize me? I … err, I’m on their wanted list at the moment.”

  “Not if they’re not in their suits. They won’t know who you are, or that you need to be arrested. That’s how it works. Once they’re out of the suits they don’t usually remember anything they’ve done. How else do you think they can live with themselves?” He gives me a sharp look. “And perhaps it is best that they don’t know what they’ve done.”

  What does he mean by that?

  I push the thought to the back of my head for later.

  “And how would we access the records of past operations?”

  “From the training room. Though he’ll only be able to access certain versions of the operations.”

  My heart sinks. “The versions they’ve created?”

  “Yes.”

  My fingers twitch in frustration but I’m careful not to show it.

  “And to access the real versions of what happened, you’d need some kind of passcode or authorization?”

  Giles’s face twists into a smile and he nods.

  He knows some way in.

  “Is there a back way into the system? If you don’t have the right code or pass?”

  Giles considers this for a moment, then shakes his head.

  “And my rogue officer wouldn’t be able to get this code?”

  Giles shakes his head. He’s enjoying this game.

  I chew my lip and consider the options. Given Giles’s reaction to any suggestion of hurting the Metz, I can’t believe he’d suggest taking the access code by force. Though it may come to that.

  “Do you have some way of accessing the system? From here?”

  A sharp intake of breath. “Not from here.” The words came out almost reluctantly.

  “But you have a way of accessing it from inside the compound?”

  He cocks his head toward me, then gives a reluctant nod.

  Okay, he has something. But I have to keep playing his game.

  I glance around the neat room, which is seemingly at odds with the clutter piled on the table. Though perhaps it just looks like clutter to me. I walk over to the crates full of books and bend down to examine them. Some look to be technical manuals but others are story books. They must have cost a fortune. Where did he get the money?

  “I lost my mother when I was six,” I say, running my finger across the spines. “I never knew my father, though I b
elieve he was driven out of the country before I was born. My mother loved me, played games with me, gave up everything for me.”

  I can sense Giles listening, but I’m careful not to look at him. He seems to prefer it that way.

  “One day she went out to meet someone and never returned. Twelve years I’ve spent wondering what happened to her, and a few weeks ago, I found out.” I stand. “She went to Rose Square, to meet someone. My father, I think, but he wasn’t there. Instead, she was surrounded by Metz, hundreds of them. They beat her, trying to get information out of her, but what did she know? Nothing. So they shot her. Left her to bleed in the dirt.”

  I fight to control the rising anger inside me and keep my voice neutral.

  “A few weeks ago, a young girl saved my life. Lily. They killed her too – shot her without trial. She was six. What can a six-year-old do to deserve to die?”

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath. No emotion. Emotion scares him.

  “I know they were ordered to do it. Controlled, even. That they probably don’t even remember—” My voice breaks.

  Calm.

  “Whoever ordered it is to blame. Whoever controls them. We need to find out who that person is. Remove them from the system.”

  “But the system is set up around them.”

  His voice in my ear makes me jump and my heart skips a beat. I hadn’t felt him creep up on me. I turn to find his face inches from mine.

  “Then we have to take down the system,” I whisper.

  Finally, he looks at me. In his eyes I see indecision, fear and sadness. Then he pulls back and reaches for a small vase that sits on top of the book crates. It’s painted in a crude design that gives it a cheap appearance.

  When he turns back, he’s holding a tiny baton in his hand. He holds it out to me. “The key. Press the blue button and the code will display. It changes every minute. Perhaps they have changed the system, but I think not.” He shrugs. “They believe I am dead. And besides, no one can break into the compound.” He smiles wolfishly.

  I think back to the last time we broke into a heavily secured building. How they knew we were there because we’d used a dead woman’s identity. “Won’t it be associated with you? Trigger an alarm?”

  Giles shakes his head. “Not unless they’ve changed the security procedures. The senior Metz officers – the captains – have access to the real files and they sometimes use the training room to review past operations.”

  I reach for the baton, but he pulls back, his expression suddenly fearful. “You won’t hurt them, will you?”

  “Who, the officers?”

  He nods. “It’s not their fault.”

  “I know. I … I won’t hurt them, and I’ll do whatever I can to stop anyone else hurting them,” I say carefully.

  But can you really stop the Chain? And the people?

  That’s a problem I’ll deal with later.

  I reach out again, and this time Giles drops the device into my palm. “Think about what you really want, Aleesha.” He cocks his head to one side and stares at me with those pale eyes. “When you let revenge define you, all you have is bitterness and regret. You must want more than that from life.”

  The comment takes me aback and I feel a sudden flash of anger. How dare he presume to know what I feel?

  I hold the device up between my thumb and forefinger. “I’ll look after it.”

  He ducks his head and turns away.

  I walk over to the tunnel entrance and pull the curtain aside. Glancing back, I see him curled in a ball on the cushions, covering his head with his arm. The sight tugs at something in my chest.

  Can he really be happy here, as an outcast?

  “Giles?”

  He raises his head to look at me.

  “If you need anything, anything at all. Just let me know, okay?”

  A flash of a smile and a nod.

  I let the curtain fall behind me and crawl back down the tunnel, the darkness seeming all the colder compared to the warmth and light I’ve left behind.

  14

  Trey

  Aleesha returns to Abby’s that evening, subdued and thoughtful. When Bryn asks where she’s been, she just replies that it’s not important.

  We’ve fitted into a routine on the nights she stays here, which is most nights now. Better here than her roof. I change while she’s in the bathroom and then we switch places. By the time I come back in, she’s wearing Abby’s old t-shirt and shorts and is lying in bed with the sheet pulled up to her shoulders. Things are awkward between us now, since the kiss on the roof, as if neither of us knows what to do next.

  Perhaps it was all a misunderstanding. Maybe she didn’t mean to kiss me.

  I sigh and splash some cold water onto my face.

  When I return to the bedroom, Aleesha’s sitting up in bed. I close the door and am about to switch off the light when she stops me.

  “Wait. Is there somewhere safe you can hide something in here, where Abby won’t find it? Something small?”

  “What thing?”

  “This.” She opens her hand to reveal a small rectangular device.

  I lean forward but she closes her hand and pulls away. “What is it?”

  She hesitates for a second before answering. “We may be able to use it to access the Metz information system.”

  I stare at her, but she shakes her head, smiling. “Don’t ask me where I got it from.”

  “The rogue officer?”

  She frowns and shakes her head. “No. Look, I don’t want to risk carrying it on me and I can’t leave it up on the roof as I may not be able to fetch it in time. Can we hide it here?”

  I think for a minute then take down a carved wooden ornament, painted to look like a doll. Aleesha gives me a disparaging look. “Is that the best you can do?”

  I twist the doll and the two halves come apart. Inside is another doll; a smaller version of the first. I open this to reveal a third doll. There are six in total. I pull out the smallest one and open it, holding it out to Aleesha. “Will it fit?”

  She places the device in the base of the doll and I replace the top. It fits, just. Leaving the smallest doll out, I replace the others inside one another and put them back on the shelf. The smallest doll I tuck into a break in the skirting at the back of the wardrobe.

  “Safe enough?” I ask.

  Aleesha nods. I turn out the light and drop onto the mattress on the floor.

  “You know Bryn’s moved upstairs?” Aleesha comments in the darkness. “He’s not down with Bernie anymore.”

  “You mean, he’s sharing with Abby? Good.”

  Tentatively, I reach up, feeling around for her hand. “Aleesha …”

  But she pulls away and the mattress creaks as she rolls over. “Night, Trey.”

  I sigh inwardly. “Night, Aleesha.”

  At breakfast the next morning, I ask Aleesha if we can have another training session. “I think I’ve just about recovered from the last one.”

  “Sure. Have you been doing the exercises I showed you?”

  Bryn splutters out a mouthful of tea. “Exercises?”

  Aleesha looks at him evenly. “Squats, push-ups, stomach work. He needs to build some muscle. I’m teaching him how to fight.”

  Abby nods approvingly. “Good idea. You need to be able to look after yourself out here.”

  While we’re eating, a boy arrives with a message from Katya. I don’t understand the code written on the grubby piece of film, but apparently Bryn does. “She’s arranged to meet the Metz Commander tomorrow night. She thinks we should have at least two hours from six thirty.” He looks up. “Any chance of finding your officer and getting him on board before then?”

  “Maybe.” Aleesha shovels a spoonful of porridge into her mouth. “It depends if he returns to our meeting point.”

  Bryn sighs. “Well, let’s keep our fingers crossed.”

  The early morning drizzle abates as we climb up to Aleesha’s rooftop. We jog a few laps of the roof
and do some warm-up exercises together in silence. Then Aleesha hands me one half of a broken chair leg she’d taken from Abby’s. She keeps the other half.

  I look at it dubiously. “What’s this for?”

  “Well, I figured it might be a bit risky to use actual knives. Besides, you don’t use a knife unless you really want to hurt someone, and I kind of figure that’s not really your style. You’ll be too cautious.”

  I sweep the baton through the air in front of me. It reminds me of when Ella and I used to play witches and wizards as kids. “Fine.”

  We work through some drills. Lunging, blocking, dodging. “It’s to get your body used to the movements. Builds muscle and helps sharpen your instincts,” Aleesha explains.

  “Aleesha,” I say carefully, blocking her blow from above. “I was chatting to Bryn about you yesterday. He said you were … damaged goods.”

  “Did he now.” She stops my return parry deftly and steps to the side. Her voice is neutral, but her lips tighten.

  “He said that growing up out here was tough. That you may have had to do stuff you didn’t want to do. To survive. That you might want to talk about it.”

  She gives a harsh laugh and drops her arm to her side. “And what makes him think I want to talk about anything?”

  “Maybe because you’ve never had anyone to tell before. Because it might help.”

  “Help with what? What’s in the past is in the past.” She moves forward suddenly and I’m not fast enough to dodge the baton that comes down hard on my thigh.

  “Oww!”

  “Never let your eye off your opponent.” She scowls and walks over to the shelter. “I thought I told you that before.”

  She takes a gulp from a bottle of Chaz and holds it out to me. I take a sip of the fizzy liquid and hand it back. It’s sickly sweet and I wonder why so many people out here drink it. There seem to be more bottles of Chaz than water on the shop shelves.

  Aleesha replaces the top on the bottle and throws it onto the pile of blankets.