I turn and look out of the back window. To my disbelief, I see Hero walking casually towards the car. He adjusts his baseball cap as if to hide the smirk on his lips. In the background, the black car bounces from side to side as the agents trapped inside try to get out.
Chapter 13
‘What just happened?’ Asks Starla.
We watch as Hero wipes the sweat from his brow.
‘He broke out the back of the shop’ I begin, having already worked it out. ‘went around the station behind the trees and messed up the car’s electrics.’
Hero wipes his forehead again with the back of his sleeve, then slumps down further in the seat. I’ve never seen him this bad before. It must have been quite a surge.
‘The Satnav has been hacked.’ He says, panting heavily. ‘The sooner we get rid of this car, the better.’
‘How?’ Starla asks.
‘The police officers?’ I suggest.
Still breathing deeply, Hero replies: ‘They must have responded to a call out. We matched the description and scanning the car confirmed it.’
‘So we’re still being followed?’ Says Starla worriedly.
I turn to the dashboard. ‘Can we do anything?’
‘There’s no manual drive option and we can’t disable to the Satnav. It’s integral.’
‘I know that.’ I reply, sounding annoyed, because I’d hoped he’d tell me something I don’t already know.
‘So we have to abandon the car and find a manual drive.’ Says Starla, desperation cracking her voice.
‘We can’t leave this car in the hope of finding another that’s over forty years old.’ I reply.
‘Well, what other option do we have?’
I turn back to Hero. He empties a cup of water in three gulps then stares at the dashboard. ‘They’ll have expected Miles to take us down at the charging station. It’ll take them a while to deploy other agents and for them to catch up with us.’
‘So what do we do?’ I ask.
‘We have no choice but to continue.’ He answers, almost introspectively. ‘We’ll get out at the next charging station then take one of the hill tunnels to the next car.’
Hero takes the opportunity to power nap for the next ten minutes whilst Starla and I keep watch. It’s full daylight now. The landscape has been gradually changing since the last stop; the car now takes us up steeper, more winding roads. We’re in a mountainous region; sparse and largely unspoiled. Beyond the white peaks to the left is a town centre and one of the many alpine ski resorts in Chamonix. I wake him moments before we arrive at the charging station. He sets the car to continue after we’ve exited, to a vehicle hire pick up point over thirty miles away. It might just fool the agents into believing that that’s where we’re heading. It’s worth a try.
The car turns into the car park. There isn’t a shop at this one; only five chargers under a perspex roof, positioned side by side in a bay. The engine stops and the lights on the doors flash green to indicate that they’re open. We climb out as fast as we can. Starla takes the remaining food and Hero and I retrieve the bags from the boot. We leave the boat cases behind; we have no use for them now. The door slides shut and the car pulls away.
Hero takes the lead on the narrow grey pavement, back in the direction we came. Starla and I following close behind. Despite being led by the strapping soldier who has always had my back (even when he’s facing forward) I feel extremely vulnerable. For the first time since this journey started, we’re completely exposed and it’s daytime. No vehicles have passed since we left the car, which is comforting and unnerving at the same time. It’s a clear, bright morning and the air is crisp. White clouds escape my lips as I exhale into the sunlight, but it’s not as cold as I’d expected it to be. Or perhaps I just can’t feel it.
After a few minutes walking in silence, the entrance to the underground tunnel becomes visible. Hero takes a left turn. We follow into the brightly lit, concrete passage in the hillside. This is a good plan I think, as we head for white transport pods that will take us to the other end. This way, underground, we can’t be spotted by drones. The path slopes downwards for a few metres until we reach the pods, but Hero doesn’t stop; he walks right past them.
‘Hey.’ I call out from behind, my words echoing in the cool, hollow enclosure. ‘Shouldn’t we get in?’ I say, pointing to the small bubble-like vehicle to my left.
‘You have to scan to use them.’ He says, stopping and turning.
Starla stops too. Her fair skin is illuminated by the cold white light and I can’t help but stare at her. The DH22 has completely worn off, revealing the young woman who boarded the yacht a little under twelve hours ago and struck me - in more ways than one.
‘Since when?’ I ask. ‘Last time I was here, they took coins.’
‘That was ten years ago Jo.’ He answers.
I think about it for a second. I guess it has been that long since I went skiing. I hate the sport, if I’m honest.
‘What about the bikes?’ I ask hopefully.
‘Same.’
‘So we’re taking the footpath?’
‘Yes Jo.’ replies Hero, with an agitated sigh.
‘How long will that take?’
‘I don’t know, I’ve never done it. Let’s just keep moving.’
Starla gives me a puzzled look as if to ask why I’m wasting time we don’t have, before continuing to walk. I’m not thrilled about marching through this tunnel, but I guess there’s no safe alternative. Besides, even if Hero could use one of his currency cards to pay for a pod, it would alert the authorities to the fact that one had been alighted. I watch Starla’s footsteps and listen to the tapping of Hero’s boots in front, on the single file walkway between the bike lane and the pod run. The walls of the tunnel are curved and pale blue with about three metres overhead. I start to feel like I did when I took the train to London to meet Heather – trapped - only now I worry about the fact that there’s a mountain above us; tons of solid rock weighing down on the roof. I tell myself that tunnels don’t just collapse; that structural engineers know exactly what they’re doing and that we’ll be out at the other end soon enough. I continue marching steadily behind, reminding myself that this latest cause to panic isn’t real, the claustrophobia (or whatever it is) is CIA induced.
Before long, it begins to feel like trekking down into a big rabbit hole. I believe the tunnel is still slopping; the gradient is just about noticeable at the pace we’re walking. I can’t see the end of it; only a bright light in the distance signifying yet more tunnel to come. I watch Starla take longer and longer strides in attempt to match Hero’s enormous steps. I hear her heavy breaths - but no louder than my own. She’s undoubtedly much fitter than I am. My rucksack starts to feel heavy on my back and my stomach groans. My body wasn’t prepared for this. I know I’m running on reserves.
A few minutes later, a pod zooms by with what I believe to have been two rambling types travelling inside. Hero probably got a better look, given his ability to see behind, and as he's not worried, neither am I. We continue for another fifteen minutes or so. A couple of bikes overtake us then finally, the exit is visible. The path starts to slope upwards until eventually, we find ourselves out in the open again. Hero signals that Starla and I should hold back, so we stop and wait just inside the tunnels entrance. I peer ahead at the open road with Starla innermost, standing close beside me. Two cars go by - too fast to be looking for anybody. I guess Hero’s searching for a parked vehicle - police or agents ready to pounce when they see us. Or shoot. I listen to Starla’s breathing once more and wonder if she’s as panicked as I am right now or still trying to catch her breath. Both probably. She knows as well as I do that we might well have to make a run for it, back through the tunnel. But we wouldn’t get far. Not unless Hero opened fire and got them all before they got him. But how far would we get after that?
‘All clear.’ He says at last then steps out into road, beckoning us to follow.
We cross and find
ourselves exposed once again, this time on a solar pavement. But it’s a relief to be out of that tunnel. I soak in the scenery and fill my lungs with the sharp mountain air. This entire region is a beauty spot, famed for its magnificent snowy peaks and picturesque landscapes. The setting doesn’t escape Starla’s notice either; her head is held high in wonder, despite the intensity of the situation. Blue white mountains and grassy foothills are kind of hard to ignore. I try to remember the name of the huge lake running through Chamonix. It distracts from the fear of a hand suddenly landing on my shoulder, or seeing Hero or Starla go down having been shot from above just seconds before we reach the car.
We arrive at a metal barrier and follow it along to the car park entrance. The black square that is the vehicle park, looks completely out of place. I assume it’s intended for hill walkers. There’s no exit bar or marked bays; it’s very basic. We walk to the only car parked at the far end, left for us. It’s a slightly smaller model than the last and silvery grey in colour this time; not fashionable - not ideal for blending in. Hero presses his thumb on a print plate and the doors click open.
We instinctively take the same seats we did in the last car. Though none of us says anything, there’s a collective sense of relief that we’re back in a safe, metal bubble. I notice that there’s not as much leg room this time and that we’re sitting much closer together than we were in the last car. But I can’t complain; comfort is the least of our worries. I rub my hands together briskly. The heating comes on when the engine starts and the dashboard displays the time; 8.56am. The warmth directly on my legs and coming up through the heated seat is the equivalent right now, of stepping into a hot bath.
‘Où voudrais-tu aller?’ Asks the car.
Hero replies: ‘Set destination to Milan.’
Promptly the car reverses, drives out of the car park and turns right onto the road.
‘Darken windows.’ Says Hero. Then: ‘Everyone alright?’
Starla turns to look at him. ‘Thank you.’ She says, conveying her heartfelt gratitude with wide eyes. ‘We would never have got this far without you.’
He puts his hand on her shoulder but keeps both sets of eyes on the roads.
We drive through the mountains for the first ten miles or so in silence. We’re not out of danger yet and exhaustion from the constant stress of being found is taking its toll on all of us. It’ll be hours before we can relax. Or maybe we’ll never be able to relax again. Perhaps Starla was right when she said that we’ll have to live the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders. It’s the price we pay for knowing. The truth doesn’t set you free.
After a while, Starla breaks the silence. ‘Jo?’
‘Yes.’ I answer, bracing myself for another dose of what I deserve.
With her head against the window and staring out at the endless snowy peaks she says: ‘It wasn’t entirely your fault, what happened. The plan was dangerous; it could have been a lot worse. But it’s probably best if my father never finds out that I got shot.’
‘Pardon?’ I exclaim, angling round as far as my seat harness will allow. ‘Why?’
‘He’s always been very protective of me. I just think it would be easier if he didn’t know.’
I look back at Hero. He glances at me once but says nothing.
‘Are you sure about this?’ I ask, still seeking her full attention.
‘Yes. I’ve thought it through and it’s for the best. If I told him, it would only get in the way of more important things.’
I look at Hero again, hoping this time he might have something to contribute. With a knitted brow he conveys that although he’s surprised by her decision, I should accept it before she changes her mind. I can’t deny that the idea of not telling Adam what happened is very appealing. It would be one less thing to worry about and we do have an investigation to get on with; we can’t afford any hostility among group members.
‘If you’re sure that’s what you want.’ I say, scrutinising the one side of her face that I can see. ‘But how do you intend to hide the injury from him?’
‘I’ll keep my arm covered. And Hero can check that it’s healing properly. It won’t leave a big scar will it?’
‘It shouldn’t be too noticeable.’ He replies
She bites her lower lip. ‘Well, I guess I’ll have to come up with something.’
‘Thank you.’ I answer, hoping to catch her eye with my apology. But she turns her head completely to face the window.
I search between the seats for the bag of food. Suddenly, I’m ravenous. There’s not much left. I open the paper bag and share out the remaining rations. Starla eats a little then asks Hero for water.
I pop the last piece of the protein bar into my mouth then tilt my head back and watch the road. I’m tired of mountains now. I’m tired of travelling in fear of our lives. My eyelids start to feel heavy. It must be the heat in the car because I’m not relaxed at all. There’s a sense of guilt about falling asleep when I know Hero must stay awake on guard duty. But as Starla doesn’t seem to want to talk, I can’t listen to music or read from my eye, I have only the buzz of the engine and the white lines on the road to focus on. Soon, the intermittent strips passing under the bonnet begin to blur. My eyes slowly close until at last, there’s only darkness and an unexpected sense of relief that allows my shoulders to slacken enough for me to drift into sleep. I guess the relief comes from knowing that I won’t have to answer to Starla’s father.
I’m woken suddenly, what feels like moments, later by Hero calling and nudging me.
‘Jo. It’s time to go.’
‘What?’ I reply sleepily then dragging myself up: ‘Where are we?’
‘Milan.’ I hear Starla say. I blink then notice the wiper glide across the front glass. It’s raining. I hear the heavy droplets hitting the side windows. I turn to see Starla gazing up at the shiny buildings, past the wet streaks on the glass. It occurs to me that she’s never been abroad before. There’s a smile on her lips - or something close to it. It’s the first time I’ve seen her not angry or frowning since….I try to remember an occasion when we were together and she smiled, but I can’t. Perhaps I still haven’t accessed all of my memories. Though there’s a strong possibility that she was always cross when she was with me.
‘Five minutes Jo. It’s underground this time.’ Says Hero, though more for Starla’s benefit, as I know what’s coming next.
Twelve noon, I read on the dashboard, after pressing my fingers together and absolutely nothing happened. It still feels strange not to have information at my fingertips. The car pulls off the main road and slips into one of two lanes leading to the entrance of an underground car park. The sound of the rain stops immediately and the daylight is replaced by white, artificial light. I’d anticipated that this would be my favourite part of the journey. I couldn’t help but think of it as ‘the Milan plan’ when I was memorising it. I believed that if we got as far as this and made it out of the car park, then we stood a good chance of making it all the way. Now that we’ve arrived, I’m not so sure. I can’t rid myself of the feeling that we’re still being tracked and that maybe we’ve driven into a trap. The car follows several other vehicles being electronically directed to empty spaces. A few seconds later, we take a right turn into an allocated space on the ground level and the engine dies. The doors click open and we climb out. The boot then glides open and we retrieve our rucksacks.
My legs are stiff and feel exceptionally heavy as we march, lead by Hero, up a slope to the next level. He turns the cameras as we walk so we’re effectively invisible. There are three almost identical cars in this car park; all on different levels, all set to different destinations. The idea is to throw the police and agents off our trail by sending two of them out first. If they’ve tracked us to Milan, hopefully they’ll be chasing one or both the other cars that are timed to leave before we do.
At the opposite end of level one, we arrive at a vintage black saloon with dark windows. It would have been an expensive
car at the time of purchase, but these hybrids were short-lived and are no longer desirable. They’re heavy and inefficient and most don’t ‘speak’. The bonus is that the Satnav can be disabled. There’s a high pitched beeping sound as Hero opens the driver’s door on the left using a fob he pulls out of one of his pockets. I climb in next to him in the front. The dashboard doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen before. The display monitor is small and central and there’s a glove compartment in front of me. In front of Hero is a steering wheel set into the white dashboard.
‘This car is so old.’ Says Starla, after having to search for her seatbelt then clip it in herself. ‘I vaguely remember being in one similar as a child.’ She adds.
But the memory must be hazy as she doesn’t elaborate. Hero presses a button between the seats, just in front of the manual hand break. The engine comes on and the steering wheel gently rises out of the dashboard to meet his hands.
‘Are you going drive us there?’ Starla asks, looking at Hero in a rear view mirror attached to the roof.
‘It’s twelve hours.’ I reply. ‘So not all the way.’
‘Do you drive Jo?’
‘No. Nobody under the age of fifty drives.’
‘Well I knew it would be unusual...
‘Without the Satnav, we’re off grid.’ Hero interrupts, adjusting his seat to accommodate his extra long legs. ‘I’ll drive as far as I can unassisted and take breaks when I need to.’
We leave immediately. Apparently we’re late due to the trek through the tunnel. The other two cars left almost an hour ago. Hero explains to Starla that two other identical cars were driven from this car park in opposite directions - one destined for Venice and the other Vienna. Because they are traceable, the hope is that agents and police will go after them and not us. Hero tells us that the drivers were hired by her father - ex-patriots who were once Ministry members. She doesn’t seem surprised that her father arranged this. I get the impression she expected no less once he was back to his old self.
2079- Beyond the Blue Page 14