“It must have been a big change leaving MI18 to work behind a desk.”
“I’d done all I could with MI18. It was time to let them grow without me.”
He had a curious look in his eye like he knew something but wasn’t saying. Linwood wondered how much access he had to security briefings.
She followed him along the corridor, wondering where all the interesting stuff was. So far, all she’d seen was a waiting room and a corridor that could have been in any office building.
“I don’t suppose you could give me a tour now that I’m here. I’ve never had the opportunity.”
“Clearance,” he reminded her.
“Surely, you must have some less restricted areas you can show me.”
He looked put out but eventually nodded. “OK, then, as long as you tell me why you’re here.”
He took her into a lift and pressed his palm to a thin pane of glass where the controls should be. “Lower level 1,” he said firmly, and the lift descended. Seconds later it opened into a wide space. Areas were sectioned off with glass partitions letting Linwood see all the way across to the other side of the room. She was taken aback by how large this space was and was instantly reminded of the Tombs with its seemingly endless capacity.
“This is quite something,” she said and didn’t have to feign interest.
Winborn led her along the central aisle. Workers in white coats were dotted all about in different sections. A small robot brushed past her, whistling incoherently as it passed. Workbenches were littered with electronic parts and components. In a couple of sections across the room, teams had gathered in front of white walls covered with brightly coloured markings and hastily drawn diagrams and were having conversations about stuff she couldn’t make out. A few times, other people made eye contact with her and she nodded at them. Their unease at having a stranger in their midst was palpable.
Linwood tried to take in as much as she could. As they walked through, she noted the Department 5 logo emblazoned on several pieces of equipment and on several whiteboards fixed to walls. Department 5 was being well taken care of here.
“You lied to my security,” Winborn suddenly announced. “You don’t have any meetings pencilled in with me at all. So, what’s this all about? Why the urgency?”
She hesitated before finally speaking. “I came to ask for a job.”
His eyes narrowed. “A job?”
“I’m always on the lookout for new challenges. Seeing Jaq so settled here has made me reassess what I’m doing with the security service.”
“And you think TALOS is your next challenge.”
“You work so closely with the security services anyway, and just looking at the size of this place, you must have some fantastic resources at your disposal. I want to help you realise the full potential of TALOS.”
He coughed. “Full potential? Don’t you think we’re already there?”
“I think if you were, you wouldn’t be reliant on Department 5 to liaise with the government.”
“You clearly don’t understand the relationship we have with Department 5 then.”
“I think I get the picture,” Linwood said. Her heart was pounding, and she hoped that she could talk without her nerves showing. What she was doing was ballsy and risked aggravating an already fiery individual. “Department 5 is your warden, here to make sure you don’t reach beyond what the government deem reasonable. And in return for their relaxed approach with you, TALOS furnishes it with the best facilities.”
His eyes had narrowed and for a moment he didn’t speak. Linwood stared into his eyes though and refused to be intimidated by those piercing blue eyes.
They’d reached the end of the centre aisle. Another corridor led off to a pair of double doors, bordered with red markings. She gestured at the doors. “Is that more Department 5 work through here?” She headed in that direction but Winborn gripped her arm.
“That area isn’t in use. Let’s take this back to my office,” he said, finally.
He led the way, Linwood scanning around the room, trying to take in as much of the layout and detail as possible. Winborn’s office was on the top floor of the main building, again accessed by his hand print from the lift. The lift opened directly into the office that had been fitted out in a largely retro style. Leather chairs lined up opposite an impressive white desk, built of some shiny plastic that looked impossibly thin. Around the walls, large prints of the facility. A portrait of a far younger Winborn with a man she didn’t recognise. Large windows opened out onto a private patio area, a fire escape in the corner.
Winborn seemed far more relaxed in his office. The arrogance had been turned up several notches, and he moved with the assured grace of a predator inviting his prey into his den.
“Can I get you a drink? Tea, coffee?”
Linwood shook her head. “You’re a busy man. I don’t want to keep you any longer than necessary.”
His watch buzzed gently, and he checked the display. It prompted him to sit in his chair and tap away at his keyboard and check something on his screen. When he’d finished, his face drew upon his immaculate smile once again.
“Why do you think you’d be useful to me?” he said, brusquely, then with a sweep of his hand, indicated that she should take a seat. She obliged, feeling the back of the chair against her didn’t help with the feeling that she was settling into a trap. Her senses were sharp, her breath faster than usual. She hoped he hadn’t noticed that.
“I’ve worked with MI18 for almost two decades. I worked with many of the artefacts we acquired over the years.” She studied his face to gauge his reaction. “I take it you’ve also had the opportunity to study what we had down in the Tombs.” It seemed unlikely that the contents of the strongroom were anywhere other than right here at the TALOS facility, whatever Jaq Petro might have to say about it.
An alarm blared out around them. Winborn’s watch buzzed and he checked the display.
“Stay here. I’ve got to go.”
“Shouldn’t we evacuate?”
“No need. This isn’t a fire alarm.” And she watched his back as he hurried into the lift, leaving her alone in his office.
Linwood would not wait around for Winborn to return. This was the perfect opportunity to find Max. If Winborn came back and found her missing, well, she’d deal with the fallout of that later.
She pressed the button for the lift and waited. The indicator light didn’t illuminate, so she pressed it again before acknowledging that Winborn wasn’t as careless as she’d assumed. There was no other way out of the room and she sighed as she realised she’d been locked in.
From her jacket pocket, she retrieved her mobile phone and tapped away at the screen to reach the hidden menus. Ironic that a piece of tech originally designed at TALOS would help her get out of here. She instigated the freedom protocol and held it close to the lift control panel. Seconds later, the button lit and the lift doors opened.
But there was already somebody standing inside the lift. Someone she hadn’t expected to see.
“Dean,” she said, staring at the man with the gun pointing at her.
He smiled as he aimed the Glock at her chest. “It seems there’s just no getting away from me,” he said with a sneer.
31
3rd June 2013
Today was the last day.
Max was bored with this place. It had been four weeks and there was still no sign they were going to let him go.
All requests for contact with the outside world had been refused, and so far, he’d not had any word from Linwood or DI Payne. He thought at least one of them would have been in touch to see how he was getting on.
He’d concluded that none of this was above board. Whatever deal had been reached between Kingston and the TALOS Institute, it wasn’t in his favour and he was sure it wasn't legal, he’d thought idly that morning munching through a bowl of cereal.
The rest of his experience hadn’t been as straightforward.
Controller Wi
nborn was deranged.
Contaminated with the silver, and admitting to wanting to cultivate it to control everybody, he was as bad as Irulal and Cindy and Thadeus. Jesus, the list of psychopaths in his life continued to grow.
After that first evening when Winborn had confessed to being contaminated, he’d not seen the man. There’d been no more confessional meetings.
But TALOS had accelerated their interest in him. The men in white tunics came daily for him now.
Every morning at ten o’clock, he was asked to stay seated whilst a scientist entered the room and secured him to a gurney. Once on the gurney, he was taken from the room into a lab that reminded Max of an operating theatre. At that point, he would be sedated and later, would wake up back in his bed in his suite.
They were experimenting on him like a lab rat.
His stomach rolled at the thought of it but he pushed the worry aside. Today, he would not be cowed into submission. No one is going to come for me. I’m on my own.
But being on his own was something he was good at. He’d fought against his wife on his own, the police never believing him when he told them he suffered domestic abuse. He’d managed to get inside the Tombs and tracked down Irulal. And later, on the Lovell Telescope, he’d stopped her. All of this was done on his own.
A click came over the speaker. “Are you ready, Max?” The same man every day. Chang.
“No. I’m still eating.”
“We’re ready for you, Max.”
“But, I’m still eating my breakfast.”
“Stand over by the wall and put your hands in the restraints.”
Max bowed his head and closed his eyes briefly. The routine never changed. He’d done many things to try to antagonise his captors, but they were like robots, never rising to the bait. He took one last mouthful of cereal before getting up and walking to the section of wall with the restraints. Glaring up at the security camera, he shoved his hands inside the leather straps which tightened automatically by an unseen mechanism inside the wall. He was now trapped and vulnerable and he waited for the door to open.
Chang entered the room with his usual effervescent smile. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Like shit.”
A frown flashed on Chang’s face, and the fake concern made Max hate him even more. He wondered how quickly he could wipe that smile off his face if ever he got the opportunity.
“I’m sorry about that. Is there anything I can do to make you feel less like shit?”
“You could try releasing me. Or let me make a phone call.”
“I’m afraid I’m not authorised to do either of those things.”
“Then, how about giving me the day off?”
Chang smiled and Max smiled back. Pleasantries would be important today—they would help put the scientists at ease. Max didn’t want to do anything to raise the man’s suspicions, not until it was too late for Chang and the others to do anything about it.
The door opened again behind Chang and the second scientist pushed the gurney inside. It was never the other way around. Always Chang with the talk and Abbot with the gurney. Max wondered whether the two men ever got as bored with the whole routine as Max did.
“Does your family know what you do at work?” Max asked Chang. “I mean, when you’re sat around the table for Sunday lunch, do you tell them you torture me every day?”
Chang shook his head gently.
The gurney moved in close behind Max, and Abbot locked the brakes with his heel before standing beside Max. With Chang on one side and Abbot on the other, there was nowhere for Max to go, even if he wasn't constrained.
Chang took out a device and pressed a button, releasing the wrist restraints from the wall but keeping Max firmly inside.
“I’ve increased the charge to these cuffs. I strongly recommend not trying to assault either of us again or the effects might knock you out.”
“Lift yourself up onto the gurney and lie back,” Abbot instructed. He was Scottish, but as Max’s knowledge of accents was impressively poor, he could just as well have been from Glasgow as from Edinburgh.
Max followed the instruction and let the men lift him up enough so he could shuffle backwards onto the gurney. Once in place, more straps appeared and were quickly buckled—tighter, he thought, than yesterday. The bruise over Abbot’s left cheek looked tender. Max smiled wryly.
They wheeled him from the room, through the outer office and into the main corridor. Doors slid open and closed as they approached and passed through. Max twisted his head to the side and tried to get a look along the main corridor to the doors at the far end. During his daily transport into the operating theatre, he’d never yet seen anyone else in the corridor at the same time; they either locked this area down during the transfer or there were fewer people on the site than he’d at first imagined.
If he ever got free, he’d need a means to get past the security at those doors, but they were protected with card swipes and possibly other measures.
But first, he had more immediate problems.
The theatre lights came on automatically and the gurney was wheeled into the middle of the room. Chang and Abbot left him whilst they attended to different banks of instruments. A whining noise came from the caramel coloured unit that Chang worked on. Abbot was busying himself with the tanks of anaesthesia that he now wheeled over beside the gurney. A heart rate monitor was hooked up to his chest, and the unit began beeping.
“How we doing here, guys? Are we good to start because I’d quite like to get back to my sitting around in my suite all day?”
“Today’s tests won’t take long at all,” Chang said without turning to face Max.
Today was the last day, Max reminded himself.
“Hey guys, I’m not feeling so good,” he said, taking care to speak carefully and lace his words with concern. Chang and Abbot both turned to look at him then. A frown appeared on Abbot’s face and he stopped paying attention to the equipment he’d been busy configuring.
“What’s wrong?” Chang said suspiciously.
“I don’t...” Max rolled his eyes back in his head and he thrust his body against his restraints.
“He’s fitting,” Chang said, rushing over to his patient.
Max kept the act up. This wouldn’t fool anyone for long but it wouldn’t need to. Abbot and Chang both worked at unbuckling his restraints. Their hands worked quickly and—
—and then Max was free.
He looked down at the bodies of Chang and Abbot and staggered back.
How?
Am I dreaming?
Their bodies lay slumped on the floor.
What the hell just happened?
He inspected the gurney and saw that Chang and Abbot hadn’t managed to unbuckle the straps. His restraints were torn, snapped. He rubbed his wrists, the skin was red and throbbing.
Time had passed. Max was sure of that but he couldn’t be sure how much time. He instinctively went to check his watch but that had been taken from him the day he arrived. Instead, he slowly backed away from the fallen men, eventually turning around and heading for the theatre doors.
He pressed the button to open the doors and glanced out into the corridor. There was no sign of any problem. He’d assumed that a troop of guards would be running to this spot but the corridor was empty. There was, however, still the problem of the security doors at the far end. He would not get through them without a pass.
Hurrying, he ran over to Chang and grabbed the pass from the man’s belt clip. Then, he looked down at himself and his apparel. His clothing would make him stand out. Chang was a similar size and Max got to work removing the man’s tunic.
Minutes later, now wearing Chang’s clothes, irritated by the collar, he took a deep breath and stepped out into the corridor. His plan at this point was simply to get as far away from his holding room as possible without drawing attention to himself. If escape from the Institute was impossible, he would aim to find a telephone and make a call.
His heart was thumping as he strolled along the corridor. He passed the entrance to his holding suite and threw a glance through the glass windows in the door. The outer office looked empty. He supposed there was no need for anyone to monitor his suite whilst he was absent.
At the end of the corridor, he pressed Chang’s pass to the sensor plate, and it beeped reassuringly.
The door unlocked and Max pushed it open.
32
3rd June 2013
Max had stepped out into a wider communal space. It was a small recreation room with sofas and bench seating. Tables and potted plants were scattered about, reminding Max of the business class lounge at Liverpool Airport. A door faced him on the opposite wall but on his left, were large windows overlooking a field leading up to the complex’s security fence. Beyond the fence, an infrequently used road and on the other side of the road lay some woodland rising up a slope.
The woodland was his goal. If he could somehow scale that fence, he’d head for the trees and hope that that would slow down any pursuit to give him a chance.
But in this communal space, there were five TALOS employees wearing a mixture of different coloured tunics. He spotted a couple in the steel grey of the security section, then two more chatting wearing matching pink outfits. The one closest to him had his back to Max, but he recognised the bald-headed man in the white tunic who was most often on duty in the observation room connected to Max’s suite.
His heart missed a beat.
He considered turning around and heading back to find another way, but he didn’t know how long those men would be knocked out for in the theatre.
And then the matter was taken from his hands.
A security woman in a grey tunic looked up at him and their eyes met. She locked his gaze, and a smile emerged on her face as she tilted her head to the side.
“Stay where you are,” she said calmly and in a voice just loud enough for Max to hear. The rest of the room turned to look, and he suddenly had five sets of eyes watching his every move. Right in front of him, baldy got to his feet and faced Max, his arms rising in front of him, a finger lifted. “You need to go back to your room, Max.”
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