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The Whitehall Syndicate: A time travel conspiracy thriller

Page 3

by Malhar Patel


  As they rushed down the road, blood coursed through Gina's veins, and though she was tired and light-headed, she still had the sagacity to wonder what was going on. This random friend of Neesh's had strolled by after seven years and in ten minutes he'd already managed to get people shooting at her.

  She'd never heard a gunshot in her life. She couldn’t say whether it had been silenced or not, but it was so loud she could still feel a muffled dampness to everything she heard. As it was, she could barely hear her feet crunching against the gravely path as she ran.

  What had just happened consumed and strangled her with fear: she'd just flirted with death. But at the same time she was also excited and after a tedious, monotonous year, the thrill of it all was exhilarating.

  Jack looked back to an empty street and simultaneously realised his scrawny legs were going to give way. Seeing him slow down in front of her, Gina followed suit, her legs appreciating the rest. Anisha was quick to seize the opportunity. “What the hell was that?”

  He panted, grabbing his sides and looking back towards the café. Convinced he was out of harm’s way he replied, “Okay I'll start at the beginning.”

  They continued walking forwards while Jack, in between heavy breaths, summed up some of what had happened so far. As the three sweaty red bodies floated down the walkway, Anisha saw a bench and insisted that they stop for a rest.

  Gina, curious and inquisitive by nature, immediately wanted to open the briefcase but Anisha, with her security background, was more cautious. What if it was a bomb? Despite her objections, Jack agreed with Gina and after calming down Anisha, he placed it on the bench and looked at it.

  It was a standard size briefcase, slightly slim and most surprisingly, built with no lock. Jack fumbled with his fingers and slowly undid the small silver clasp. As he saw what was inside, his skin bleached of all colour. He momentarily stopped breathing, only faintly aware of the chorus of gasps around him.

  Chapter 3

  The London sky began to murmur as large tumultuous clouds pulsated in the sky above. Although only early evening, the city had already darkened substantially; the dark nimbus clouds allowing only the smallest drops of sunlight to leak through. On the park bench where Jack sat, the weather echoed the mood. A collection of high-resolution photographs lay in front of him, all of them showing images of him dead. Murdered. His brain matter visible through a clean entry wound to his forehead.

  Although he had never seen a picture of a corpse before, the death itself didn't shock as much as seeing himself, pale and lifeless. It was overwhelming; it felt like he had a shadow looming over him. He couldn’t comprehend the pictures and could find no rational way to understand how he was looking at what he was looking at. Whoever it was that was behind this, he knew now more than ever; they were deadly serious.

  A tingling feeling crawled up the back of his throat as he realised he was bound to be contacted again. With a groan and a sickly cracking of his knees he stood up, ready to go back to the hotel and sleep away the shocking start of this so-called holiday.

  Tugging at his sleeve, Anisha stopped him dead in his tracks. “Wait a minute. If these people are after you then you can't go back to the hotel. They'll find you for sure.” An uneasy pause lingered for a few seconds before she added, ‘‘you'll have to spend the night at mine.” “You'd both best stay with me I think,” came a risky suggestion from Gina, still feeling reckless and giddy from her brush with death. “There's no need to suck Pete into this.” Jack, equally touched and surprised, didn’t know what to say. He knew he should politely refuse, but defeated from his nightmarish day, he simply nodded.

  Getting on the bus it occurred to him that his other self had no idea what was going on. He couldn't help an unstable smile from reaching his lips. Yesterday he couldn't wait to get away and now… Now he wouldn't mind being the old Jack.

  The bus drove them through the grotty streets of London with hardly a word being said, save for the occasional exchange intended solely to relieve the deafening silence. Everyone was confused and panicked but afraid to show it. Jack closed his defeated red eyes and silently prayed that tomorrow would be better. A short walk later and Gina opened the red door to her small, suffocating London flat and invited in her grateful companions.

  She lived alone and clearly wasn't expecting visitors. A mild though putrid smell, like long expired curry, wafted through the shabby living room, but after the day so far it seemed petty to complain. Following a quick tour of the rooms, they all slumped down on the couch, every one of them groaning in delight at the short moment of comfort.

  Tiffany squinted slightly at the bright lights as she walked out onto the Hawaiian background set. The sound of all-encompassing chatter and the glaring light of the fresnels trained on her body left her disorientated. She blinked a few times while her eyes adjusted and then got herself in position, on the way grabbing a small bottle of lotion off a nearby trolley. She felt herself struggling to breath properly in her tight little bikini. Hopefully it wouldn’t be on too long.

  A tanned blonde with a knockout body and an average face, she was well aware of why she'd got this job. As she strolled out to join the three stage setters who stood waiting, one of them flatly told her she was late. She replied, “Oh I'm sorry,” in her sweetest bubblegum voice, and flashed her sapphire blue eyes. It worked, as she knew it would, and he smiled back, forgetting he was ever angry.

  Pete told everyone to clear the set then whispered a few quiet words to her, making them both giggle. That was Pete. Loquacious, relaxed, and flirty, but only in a loveable way. The girls lapped it up every time.

  Jogging back to behind the camera he began his usual work. Bellowing encouragement to the young model, trying to loosen her up and get the sexiest look out of her. Firing away photos from all angles as she rubbed ZenCorp's sun tan lotion over her soft, firm skin. They were going to love these pictures.

  Making women who were already stunning look even more beautiful was a subtle art, and one that Pete excelled at. People often asked him if it got boring, being with gorgeous models all day every day. He always said it did, but secretly, he would’ve worked here for free.

  Glancing at his watch, he decided to call Neesh to let her know he would be running late. He got her voicemail instead; a message saying something had come up and she wouldn't be in tonight. He arched his eyebrows and frowned, wondering what she was doing. Maybe he'd call her later and find out.

  The dull hues of the evening had descended on Gina's decrepit little flat. She was in her bed now, with Jack and Anisha sharing the sofa bed. After a short spell of retching silence, they began to talk off subject, as a way of distracting themselves. Much as Jack had expected, the subject of love life came up once again, and this time he laid out everything. From marrying his high school sweetheart Lisa after he finished university, through the years where they scrimped and saved to pay off their loans, right down to the point where it just got too much for him. Where she got too much for him.

  From when they started dating he'd loved her almost unquestioningly. For years he thought things would never be any different. A handful of fights later, and with the better part of a decade having slipped away, he felt nothing anymore. Even now, he wondered if everlasting love actually existed. To him it seemed like a myth.

  As he spoke, Anisha listened patiently, moved by the slight quiver in his voice. She knew some of his story already, but a rehash didn't hurt. Now it was her turn. Jack wasn't surprised to learn she was engaged once, for a very short period, to her roommate Pete. When the flame fizzled out they'd called it off but remained friends to this day.

  Jack asked about her sister Reena and she told him she'd had an arranged marriage and was in India now. These days you didn't see many arranged marriages even in eastern families. It was a tradition that modern youth had turned its back on. Jack personally couldn't understand the idea but he didn't think it was his place to judge.

  Anisha happened to mention her job, which gave
him an idea. “If you're in surveillance, do you have access to fingerprint files of everyone who time travels?”

  “Yeah I can get them. Why?”

  “I know this sounds disgusting but couldn't we try finding out who the fingers belonged to?” She agreed. It was disgusting. Still, Jack noted that she didn't actually say she wouldn't do it and a glimmer of hope flickered inside. After that the conversation quickly faded, giving way to fatigue and drowsiness.

  Jenson walked up now, the deafening cacophony of sound around him rattling his concentration. He had prayed it wouldn't come down to this. He didn't want to do it but millions of people were depending on him. He had no choice. He took a few steps and then gave an almighty kick. A familiar dull smack rang in his ears. Pete fell to the floor, tears streaming from his eyes.

  A rush of blood to his head made him dizzy. Jenson turned away, a beaming smile plastered on his face from a job well done. After a few deep breaths Pete stirred and got back up again. Jenson turned around sharply; making sure everything was all right. Pete rubbed his eyes and smiled.

  Jenson had done it! After Derby topped the Premiership last year, the pressure had been enormous for them to win the Champions League. And now, with a last minute penalty shot to the top right corner, Jenson had done just that! Pete was euphoric, only wishing he had someone to share his excitement with. Where was Anisha when he needed her?

  It was sometime after the witching hour. The streets and the sky were a sallow grey, the perpetual twilight of London's lampposts beating down to keep the horizon pale and milky. As an insomniac, Jack stirred in his bed, struggling to sleep in the absence of darkness.

  He needed a drink, so he got up and rubbed his sore eyes to ease away the blur, at the same time clearing his throat. Despite blurry eyes, it was evident that lying on the coffee table was another jiffy bag, like the one he had been handed at the café, only blue.

  Jack's skin went clammy and his scalp began to feel hot and itchy. He was more nervous than afraid; a small part of him believing it was only a dream. Reaching over with a slight tremble, he picked up the mysterious package and tipped out the contents. A single fluorescent laser disc emerged.

  Jack stopped breathing and strained his ears, listening around for any intruders. A good fifteen or twenty seconds passed before he was convinced he was safe. Even so, he proceeded quietly and cautiously, the hairs on his arms standing to attention.

  There still lingered the sickly feeling that someone was watching him and a shadowy shudder pulsed through his veins. Staring into his empty, colour-bleached room he impulsively decided to wake up Anisha, suddenly not keen on being alone anymore. She fidgeted haphazardly as her abdomen was assaulted by his prodding finger. A yawn and a few half-hearted groans followed, shattering the eerie silence. The room slowly came into focus as Anisha forced her eyes open.

  Despite a weak voice hoarse with phlegm, Jack began whispering to her and she nodded absently while turning on the lamp, temporarily stunning both of them. As they adjusted to the synthetic yellow glow, Jack nervously explained what he'd found. She listened diligently, half of her still fighting the urge to fall asleep again. Tip toeing over to a cupboard, she pulled out her Goldstar mobile phone, and gently whispered, “This'll solve it.” Once upon a time, its primary function had been as a phone, but as time went on, more and more features had been added, one of which was data disk playback. Placing in the FLD, she turned up the speakers and they both listened.

  It was a good many years now since Liam Fuse had first constructed the time machine. As far as Michael Green was concerned, nothing had gone right since. Fuse had originally sold them almost exclusively to the US, and in the years that followed its global power had soared to even greater heights. Eventually other countries had had no choice but to employ the same system.

  Green couldn't help gritting his teeth over the fact that people born forty years ago were already looking grey and withered. The government was buckling under the twin logistic and financial nightmares of running Big Brother and the only person who seemed to be profiting was Fuse.

  In fact there was an argument to be made that Fuse was instrumental in the destabilisation of British independence and even the British way of life. But it was an election year and those were dangerous opinions to have right now. Green closed his eyes and cleansed his mind of all these issues. If he played his cards right he was going to be Prime Minister soon. That was what he had to concentrate on.

  He stood in his huge office – one way or another it wouldn’t be his for long – and, clearing out the few interns and other staff, snapped the doors shut. Delicately removing a small palmtop computer from his jacket pocket, he placed it on the desk. With a snap of his neck from left to right, he again made sure no-one could see him, and then switched it on, loading up an instant message screen.

  >>>I don't have much time

  >>> What's the problem?

  >>>Is the document verified?

  After a short pause a response flashed up

  >>> Document will be fully authenticated in thirteen days.

  Green frowned at the message. He had to wait a whole two weeks more. That was another two weeks in which he could be caught. If any other MP's found out what he was doing, it would be the bitter end of his career, as well as his freedom. As he stood there his arrogance couldn’t help but shine through. He was convinced things would run smoothly. Stroking his rough, furry beard, he thought with a smile, 'Name one man who can stop me.'

  Jack scratched his head. All he could make out was the whining, crackling sound of static. Anisha began fiddling with the mobile, muttering complaints and colourful obscenities about the number of audio functions on the gadget. Jack was already impatient and the anticipation was on the verge of tearing him apart, but he held it together for the sake of his friend. He was a stoic man by nature and now was no exception.

  As he stood there silently waiting he thought about Gina, upstairs and sound asleep with no idea what was going on. He considered waking her so that she could listen as well. After all it was her flat that was broken into. Surely she had a right to know. He wrestled with the idea while Anisha worked, and ultimately rejected it. There was no need to disturb her sleep for this. Moreover, there wasn't a great deal she could do anyway.

  He glanced back at Anisha. She really was stunning. In all the time they’d spent together, how had he managed to miss that? Before he had time to answer his own question, Anisha announced that she had worked out the problem and, after some incomprehensible techno-babble, declared the FLD should work now. Just as she was about to play it Jack's arm pounced up to stop her, a cocktail of panic and adrenaline taking hold of him.

  Deep down he knew he would have to listen to the tape but he had a sudden last minute feeling that no good would come from it. To buy more time he suggested they inform Gina. It was far too early in the morning, and Anisha was far too groggy to argue, so the both of them trotted upstairs to wake her.

  Like an old wooden door, Gina's eyes creaked open. She was dazed and confused, much the same as Anisha, but the news that someone had been in her flat, probably only hours ago, was enough to jolt her awake. Reaching the living room, Jack noticed that all the whispering had ceased now. Everyone was alert and awake, as if it was the middle of the day.

  Hesitantly, the trio of friends all clamoured up by the phone and listened intently as the recording played. The resulting audio was muffled and had a pantomime villainy to it, which in more favourable circumstances may have seemed comical. “Good morning Mr Winchester. As you're well aware, some rather unpleasant things seem to be happening to you. I can only apologise for that and assure you that, if you follow our instructions and comply with our demands, this will all be over soon.

  First let me begin by alerting you to the fact that your death is assured. We have killed you, thirteen days from now. There is nothing you can do, no way of getting around it. Unless we alter events, you will be dead in a fortnight. I hope the photographs and the d
elivery of your fingers will help authenticate our threat. We have the ability to spare your life however, which we are more than willing to do, but in return we demand one simple thing: that you assassinate deputy Prime Minister Michael Green within the next twelve days. Do not attempt to notify the authorities or anybody else. Do not attempt to find us. You will be contacted later with more details.”

  Chapter 4

  Rays of grey sunshine peeked through the thin red curtains, casting a dull red glow into the Elephant and Castle flat. After an eventful night, and with fear of more intruders to come, none of the inhabitants had slept much. Anisha rubbed her eyes wearily, the strain of being up all night having left them sore. Outside she could already hear the rabble of shoppers gathering early for a bargain hunt in the capital. She stretched her arms; they were painful and stiff from the position she had fallen asleep in.

  Her back also throbbed, probably from spending the night on her ancient sofa bed. She got up and peered around the corner to see Jack with earphones on, playing the instructions yet again.

  Nothing about this situation made any sense. He had struggled all night to find a reason behind it, to find some small scrap of logic. But from what Anisha saw now, he hadn't managed to so far. If one good thing came of last night, it was Anisha turning around her position and agreeing to help Jack check if the detached fingers were his.

 

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