by Jim Eldridge
The taxi crawled along the Wharf Road. It appeared to be filled with warehouses and storage companies. They pulled up outside number forty-three, a warehouse which looked like it hadn’t been occupied for some time.
‘This is it,’ said Jake.
He felt a knot of nervousness in his stomach as he and Robert got out of the taxi and he paid the driver.
‘Any plan yet?’ asked Robert.
‘Yes and no,’ said Jake. ‘I think I go in alone. You see if you can creep in and hide somewhere and watch, and make a move if things look bad. After all, if that phone thing of yours worked, they won’t know you’re here.’ Jake took his mobile phone and handed it to Robert. ‘Just in case things do go bad, you can phone nine-nine-nine.’
Robert hesitated and seemed about to reject the phone. Then he took it from Jake and slipped it into his pocket.
‘Thanks,’ he said. He turned to Jake. ‘I was wrong about you,’ he said gruffly. ‘I thought you were no good and using Lauren. You really care for her, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Jake. ‘I love her. I was stupid with the way I behaved at that wedding, and I’ve regretted it every day since. I want to make things right again.’
‘You already have done,’ said Robert. ‘Whatever happens.’ He looked towards the abandoned warehouse. ‘Ready?’
‘No,’ admitted Jake. ‘I feel sick, I feel scared.’ He took a deep breath. ‘But I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. So let’s do it.’
Chapter 27
Jake walked across the patch of tarmac towards the warehouse. He guessed that once there would have been lorries and cars parked here. Now it seemed to be used as a dumping ground for rubbish. Broken wooden pallets lay around, where they had been dropped or thrown. Black bags filled with litter had just been dumped and had split, with paper and other rubbish spilling out.
There’ll be rats, thought Jake. He remembered reading somewhere that in London you were never more than three metres from a rat. That usually meant that the rat was underground, below you, but in cases like this he guessed the rats were living in the old warehouse, scavenging and breeding. He was sure he saw a movement among the piles of torn litter bins. Jake hated rats. The fact of them sent a shiver up his spine. They could get anywhere, through the most incredibly narrow gaps. And their teeth were so sharp they could gnaw through porcelain. He’d heard tales of them chewing their way through a toilet bowl to get into a flat to scavenge for food.
Most of the doors into the building were shut with metal bars locked down across them, but one door was slightly ajar. That’s the way they want me to go in, thought Jake.
He wondered where Robert was. Robert had gone off to the far side of the building, looking for a window or an opening so he could creep in unnoticed. Even if he did manage to get in unseen, it only gave them a force of two. Two unarmed amateurs against armed and fully prepared professionals.
Jake reached the door and pushed it gently. It swung open. From inside, there was a dim light glowing. He wondered where they’d be. Waiting for him just inside the door, ready to pounce on him? He reached down and picked up a nearby plastic bag filled with litter that had been left lying near the doorway, and then tossed it through the door opening.
Nothing happened. No one shot at the bag, or jumped on it. But then, these people were professionals. Jake guessed they knew what they were doing.
He hesitated, then took a deep breath, and walked in through the doorway, into the warehouse.
It wasn’t empty. It may have been disused, but it was still stacked with machinery and crates, all covered with dust and cobwebs. It had been a very long time since this place had been active.
‘Welcome, Mr Wells!’ boomed a voice. ‘We are glad you could join us! Come forward!’
‘I’m armed!’ called out Jake in warning.
There was a chuckle, then the voice said, ‘We think that unlikely, Mr Wells. I doubt if you’ve ever handled a gun, before or now.’
‘I don’t need a gun!’ called back Jake. He took a deep breath, then tried his bluff. ‘I’ve wired myself with explosives under my clothes. If you shoot me, I’ll blow up and we’ll all be killed.’ There, thought Jake. I’ve come up with a plan. Mad, perhaps, but it’s still a plan.
There was a pause, then the voice laughed again.
‘Really, Mr Wells . . .’
But Jake was sure this time the laugh wasn’t as confident.
‘Since this started I’ve met some dodgy people,’ called Jake. ‘Believe me, I’m wired to blow up.’
There was a pause, then the voice asked, ‘You have the book with you?’
‘Yes,’ called Jake. ‘And if you shoot me and I blow up, the book goes up in flames.’
‘There is no need for that,’ said the voice. ‘Come forward. With your hands above your head, please.’
Jake hesitated, then edged slowly forward, hands raised, expecting at any moment a shot to ring out. None came. Had they bought his bluff? Penny Johnson had said he was a useless liar. He hoped this would prove her wrong.
There was a clearing in the centre of the warehouse. As Jake moved slowly into the clearing, he looked around at the piles of crates stacked up and the large, idle machines; all offered places where these people could be hiding, guns trained on him.
‘Where’s Lauren?’ he called.
There was the sound of scuffling, and then two men appeared from behind a pile of crates. They wore black balaclava helmets covering their faces. Both of them held pistols which they pointed at Jake. There was more scuffling, then Lauren appeared, pushed forward by a third man, his face also covered with a balaclava. Her hands were tied behind her back and there was tape across her mouth.
‘Take the tape off,’ instructed Jake.
There was a pause, then the voice said, ‘You are in no position to make demands.’
‘Take the tape off!’ snapped Jake, his voice sounding firmer this time. He was scared, he knew he was quite likely going to die, but there was no way he was going to make it easy for these people.
He wondered where the person who was speaking was hiding. The voice had an echo to it, like it was being amplified. Maybe the person behind the voice wasn’t even here in the warehouse, but somewhere else, watching it all on CCTV.
‘Remove the tape,’ ordered the voice, and one of the men reached out and ripped the tape off. Lauren uttered a small cry of pain as it was torn away.
‘Are you OK?’ asked Jake.
‘Yes,’ she said. Her voice sounded distant, faint. Jake noticed that she was being held up by the third man, and wondered if she’d been drugged.
Suddenly, there was a commotion from further inside the warehouse, raised voices, the sound of fists hitting. The two men near Lauren swung round, guns pointing, while the man holding Lauren let her go and pulled out a gun himself. Lauren swayed and crumpled to the ground. Jake started to rush towards her, but one of the men swung his gun to point directly at Jake, and the voice called out warningly, ‘Stay where you are, Mr Wells!’
Then two more men appeared, dragging the figure of Robert along with them. Robert struggled in their grasp, until one of the men near Lauren walked over to him and hit him in the face with his gun. Robert swayed, but carried on struggling and shouting, and the man hit him again, harder this time, and Robert sagged and fell to the ground.
‘You were told to come alone,’ said the amplified voice coldly.
‘I didn’t trust you,’ said Jake. ‘And he’s not armed. Unlike me.’
‘How many more people have you got out there?’ asked the voice.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ said Jake, doing his best to appear confident by putting on a mocking tone.
‘Enough!’ snapped the voice. ‘Hand over the book!’
‘Not until you release them.’
‘You are stupid if you think some kind of stand-off will work here,’ said the voice. ‘You are out-numbered.’
‘I’m also wired to explode, and I can blow me and the book to bits,�
� Jake reminded him.
‘I don’t believe you,’ said the voice.
Jake shrugged. ‘That’s up to you,’ he said. ‘Come on, you said this was an exchange. So let’s exchange. Let them go, and I’ll put the book down on the floor here.’
‘How do we know you even have the book on you?’
Jake hesitated a second, then reached into his pocket, took the book out and held it up.
‘Here it is,’ he said.
‘It could be a fake,’ said the voice.
‘So let them go and I’ll stay here while you check it, as security.’
There was pause, then the voice said, ‘Show us the explosives.’
‘What?’ asked Jake.
‘These explosives you claim to have wired ready to go off. Show them to us.’
Jake shook his head.
‘They’re right under my clothes, next to my skin. If you think I’m going to start undressing and give you the chance to rush me . . .’
‘I don’t believe you.’
Jake shrugged again.
‘Like I said, that’s up to you. But look at it this way, you’ll be left with me and the book. If I’m lying, you’ve lost nothing.’
There was a longer pause, then the voice instructed the armed men, ‘Release the girl and the other man. Take them outside and let them go.’
Jake noticed that Robert was now sitting up, rubbing his head, dazed and hurt, but conscious.
‘I don’t hand over the book until I see your men come back in afterwards,’ warned Jake.
‘Very well. When you have taken the woman and the man outside, come back in.’
Two of the armed men went to Lauren and Robert and lifted them off the ground, and then helped them towards the warehouse door.
Don’t try anything, Robert, thought Jake desperately. This is your one chance to get away from here safely.
Lauren and Robert both stumbled as they walked, but they kept moving. As they passed, Lauren threw a helpless and desperate look at Jake. He forced a smile at her. ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘I know what I’m doing. Go.’
One of the armed men took her by the arm and urged her forward. Jake watched as the four disappeared out of sight around the stacked crates. All this time he stood, the book held in his hand, so the kidnappers could see it.
Please believe me, he prayed silently. Please believe that beneath my clothes I’m loaded with explosives and detonators.
There was a wait of what seemed like an eternity, though it was possibly less than a minute. Then the two armed men returned, alone.
‘Have they gone?’ asked the voice.
One of the masked men nodded.
‘Good,’ said the voice. ‘Now, Mr Wells, the book.’
Jake nodded and laid the book down on the ground.
‘Step away from it,’ ordered the voice.
Jake stepped back from the book. One of the masked men went to the book and picked it up, examined the seal on the cover, and then raised one hand with his thumb sticking up to confirm it was the book. He took the book and disappeared out of sight behind one of the stacks of crates.
‘OK,’ said Jake. ‘So, I guess that’s our business done.’
‘Not quite,’ said the voice. ‘You surely didn’t believe we could let you go. We don’t know how much you know.’
‘I don’t know anything about you,’ said Jake.
‘No, but Ms Graham does,’ said the voice. ‘She saw our people when they took her. She can describe them.’
A chill went through Jake.
‘But . . .’ he began.
The voice chuckled. ‘I hate to disillusion you, Mr Wells, but I have been known to tell lies. One was that we would release your friends.’
‘But your men took them outside! And then they came back!’
‘After they’d handed them over to our other operatives who were waiting outside, as back-up.’
There was a scuffling sound from the door, and Jake saw Lauren and Robert being pushed along. This time both had tape fixed firmly across their mouths to stop them warning him, and their hands were behind their backs.
The men shoved them both hard, and Lauren and Robert stumbled forward, crashing into Jake. The three of them stood, recovering and unsteady. Lauren looked at Jake, an apology in her eyes. The armed men had now withdrawn to take cover behind the stacks of crates.
‘So, Mr Wells, feel free to blow yourself and your friends up,’ said the voice. ‘If you don’t, then my men will shoot all three of you. You have three seconds. One . . . two . . .’
Chapter 28
Jake began to run for the exit, grabbing hold of Lauren as he did and hauling her towards it. He heard the deafening sound of gunfire burst out, smelt the burning of metal as bullets tore into wood and the ground around them, chips of concrete flying up. He was aware that Robert was with them, and then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Robert collapse and tumble.
He pushed Lauren harder, aiming for the door, but as they turned the corner of the stacked crates they ran into a wall of men dressed from head to foot in black pointing automatic rifles at them.
We’re dead! thought Jake.
‘Down!’ barked one of the men. Jake and Lauren found themselves grabbed and forced face down on the ground.
Meanwhile, the sound of gunfire continued behind them, punctuated with screams and yells of pain.
They’re not going to kill us, Jake realised. They’re here to rescue us!
Suddenly, a voice was heard shouting, ‘Cease fire!’
Jake started to lift his head, but a boot was placed on his back, pushing him down again.
‘Stay down!’ growled a voice.
He lay flat, his face pressed against the dirty cold concrete floor. He was able to see Lauren next to him, still gagged with the tape, but alive.
After the gunfire stopped, the warehouse had an eerie echo. The only sound was that of heavy boots stomping around. Then Jake was aware of more footsteps, quieter ones, approaching. They stopped by him. He twisted his head and saw a pair of shiny black leather shoes close by him.
‘All correct, sir!’ barked a voice.
‘Excellent,’ said a calm voice. Gareth!
Ignoring the boots near him, ready to push him back down, Jake looked up, and saw Gareth smiling down at him, with that same smile which was meant to ooze sincerity, but now chilled Jake to the core.
‘Well, well, Jake,’ said Gareth, his tone gently chiding. ‘You do get yourself in some difficult situations.’
It was about an hour later. Jake and Lauren were sitting at a table in a basement room. Security cameras were fixed to all the walls, pointed at them. Jake guessed there were microphones installed as well, recording everything that was said. It was less obvious than his experience at the hands of Detective Inspector Edgar, but this was an interrogation room, nevertheless. Jake had guessed where they’d been headed as the car had brought them towards the large building on the banks of the Thames. MI6 HQ. He’d seen it often enough on his way to work at the Department of Science. He’d heard it given other names. The official address was 85 Albert Embankment, but it was also known within Civil Service circles as Spook Centre, Legoland, and Babylon-on-Thames because of the design of the building, which looked like a massive ziggurat from ancient Babylon when seen from the river. Viewed from land, it looked just like any other huge building in London. It was a building Jake had never thought he’d see the inside of. And now, here he was in an interrogation room somewhere deep in its basement.
Tough-looking men stood around the room, keeping watch. They each had the tell-tale bulge near their armpit where they carried a gun beneath their jacket. None of them smiled. All of them looked as if they could break Jake in half without working up a sweat.
Gareth sat across the table from Jake and Lauren. He looked very relaxed, calm, and in control. He was also still smiling.
‘I’m glad we were able to help,’ he said. ‘Your deaths would have been a great tragedy. And so
unnecessary.’
‘You followed us?’ asked Jake.
Gareth shook his head.
‘Not physically,’ he said. ‘We followed the signal from your mobile phones; but we’d been listening into your phone conversations, so we already knew where you were headed.’
‘How’s Robert?’ asked Lauren.
‘He’s fine,’ said Gareth. ‘A flesh wound, nothing serious. He’s being attended to and then we’ll send him home, once he’s signed the Official Secrets Act.’ He looked at Jake. ‘You’ve signed it already, Jake, so I don’t think we need to worry about you. But we need your signature, Ms Graham.’
‘No,’ said Lauren firmly. ‘I refuse to keep what’s happened hidden.’
Gareth gave a small sigh.
‘I thought that might be your attitude,’ he said, his tone still smooth and full of charm. ‘But I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Lauren curtly.
Gareth smiled.
‘We’ll come back to that. The main thing is, the book is back in safe keeping.’
‘Hidden,’ said Lauren. ‘The knowledge that it contains denied to people it can help. The greening of the desert! Food from thin air!’ She leant forward towards Gareth, visibly angry. ‘Can you even imagine the millions of starving people that technology could feed?’
‘And can you imagine that technology in the hands of terrorists?’ countered Gareth. Now he was no longer smiling. ‘That kind of biological weapon could lay waste to a city centre. London. New York. Paris.’
‘It could feed the world!’
‘It could destroy us,’ said Gareth simply.
‘Who were they?’ asked Jake. It was the question he’d been dying to ask ever since they’d arrived in this room. ‘The people who were holding Lauren?’
‘We’re not yet sure,’ said Gareth.
And even if you were, you wouldn’t tell me, thought Jake bitterly.
‘Pierce Randall?’ asked Jake.
Gareth smiled and shook his head. ‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘This was far too crude for a firm like Pierce Randall. They are much more dangerous than that.’
‘More dangerous than nearly being shot dead?’ demanded Jake.