Black List (6 page)

Santiago said nothing to this, though his gaze lingered on the deputy director a moment longer before he turned around to resume his work.

No sooner had his rotund friend departed, leaving Alex alone, than the phone in his hand suddenly started vibrating. Someone was calling, and they were in no mood for waiting around.

Pausing a moment to question the wisdom of taking a call from a phone handed to him in such a clandestine fashion, Alex hit the receive call button.

‘Who is—?’

‘Don’t talk, just listen.’ The voice that spoke was female, strong and commanding, with a hint of an accent that he couldn’t identify. But such questions no longer mattered. All of those details paled into insignificance after what came next.

‘You’ve been compromised,’ she went on. ‘Armed response teams are on their way to arrest you. If you want to live to see tomorrow morning, get out of that cafe right now.’

That was it, right there. The moment when it all went to shit.

My life; my safe and boring and unfulfilling life, had just shattered into a million pieces right in front of my eyes. I was too stupid to recognize it at the time, or maybe I was just too scared to admit it to myself. But like so many things before and after, I really should have seen it coming.

I should have seen it the moment I thought about opening that file.

What is it they say about curiosity and cats?

Caught off guard by the sudden intrusion into his world, Alex could barely stammer an answer down the phone. ‘W-who the hell are you?’

‘Who I am isn’t important,’ she said, her impatience obvious. ‘But what I have to tell you is. The Agency is coming after you. Whatever you’ve done tonight, it has made you a threat to them. And there is only one way they deal with such threats.’

Alex let out a single breath, almost a grunt, as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He could feel bile rising in his throat, and fought back a growing wave of nausea.

‘Bollocks. How could you possibly know this?’

‘Because I’ve been monitoring the police band. An arrest warrant has just gone out over the radio. Local units are being diverted to that cafe as we speak.’

‘Now wait a fucking second!’ he hissed, his voice rising in pitch despite his best efforts to stay calm. A couple of people looked up from their tables, disturbed by the noise. ‘This is ridiculous. Nobody could—’

‘Stop talking, Alex,’ she commanded.

That stopped him cold. ‘How do you know my name?’

‘Because clearly you are not as good at covering your tracks as you believe.’ Her scorn was impossible to ignore. ‘Arran met with you a week ago, and he disappeared not long after. It was no accident. Unless you want to end up like him, I suggest you be somewhere else when the police get there.’

Moving over to the window, Alex peered outside. The street was quiet, with just a few pedestrians moving back and forth. Traffic had calmed down, rush hour having long since passed. All things considered, it looked about as normal and peaceful as any other street in London.

‘I don’t see anything out there,’ he said, wondering if this was some elaborate hoax on her part. ‘How do I know this isn’t a dose of bullshit and chips?’

‘Alex, every second you delay gives them more time to close the net,’ she said, forcing calm into her voice. ‘For your own sake, get out of there while you still can.’

‘And go where, exactly?’ he demanded. It wasn’t as if he had a private jet standing by to whisk him off to safety. ‘Do what?’

Her answer was as blunt as it was chilling. ‘Run.’

Before he could reply, he heard something echoing between the buildings outside. A high pitched wail, rising and falling in tone, getting closer. And sure enough, a moment or two later he caught sight of something at the far end of the street. A light, blue and flashing, coming his way.

‘Oh fuck. Fuck!’ he gasped, backing away from the window in horror. He didn’t care who saw him now. ‘This isn’t a joke, is it? I mean, this is really happening.’

‘It is,’ she confirmed. ‘As soon as the police arrest you, they will hand you over to an Agency retrieval team for interrogation. By the time they’re finished with you, you will be begging to tell them more.’

Alex clamped a hand over his mouth, having to fight the urge to throw up. His mind was already conjuring up all kinds of horrific images of interrogation, torture and mutilation.

‘I can help you, but only if you listen to me and do exactly as I say.’

‘All right,’ he said, his voice little more than a desperate whisper. ‘What do I do?’

‘Leave the cafe and turn left on the street outside. Hurry.’

He needed no further prompting. Ignoring the curious stares of the cafe patrons, he shoved his way through the door and strode outside. Straight away droplets of rain and chill night air assailed him, along with the wail of police sirens rapidly growing closer. His heart was pounding in his chest, the pulse thundering in his ears.

‘I’m out,’ he said, the phone pressed tight against his ear. ‘Where to now?’

‘Head west, then take the first side street you can find,’ the woman commanded him, her voice chillingly calm despite the intensity of the situation. ‘You need to get off the main road fast.’

‘Okay.’

‘If you have a hat or a hood, put it on. And don’t run. You’ll only draw attention to yourself,’ she advised, as if sensing that he was about to break into a sprint. ‘Try to look natural.’

‘Easy for you to say,’ Alex said under his breath, pulling the hood up over his head.

She ignored that one. ‘Do you have a cell phone of your own?’

‘Yeah.’ Instinctively he reached into his pocket to retrieve it.

‘Get rid of it now. They’ll use it to track you.’

‘But...’ He started to protest that the phone was worth a lot of money and that he could simply switch it off, then thought better of it. Now wasn’t the time to debate technicalities. ‘Fine. Fuck it.’

Passing by a public litter bin, he tossed it in without breaking stride. The wail of sirens were loud and urgent in his ears now. He could see the blue flash of lights reflecting off nearby windows, and did his best not to cringe at the knowledge that the men now hunting him had come screeching to a halt not fifty yards away.

As commanded, he turned left at the first junction into a residential street of three-storey apartment blocks, managing somehow to keep a steady walking pace. His legs felt like jelly, and he was certain that every person he passed was staring at him, yet he forced himself to keep his head down and carry on walking.

He’d always been good at blending in, at passing unnoticed. Just an anonymous young man in a hoodie making his way home. Nothing worth remembering.

‘Why are you doing this?’ he couldn’t help but ask, painfully aware of how exposed he still was. ‘Helping me.’

There was a pause, brief but noticeable. ‘Not now. You have more important things to worry about.’

Of that he had no doubt. ‘I see an alleyway up ahead,’ Alex said, spotting a service alley that ran between two buildings. Having lived here for the past year, he knew the area fairly well by now. ‘If I remember right, it leads down to a canal... Oh fuck.’

Just like that, his growing hope of escape was dashed as he spotted a pair of police officers heading in his direction, their bright fluorescent jackets standing out like beacons in the dim glow of street lights.

‘What is it?’

‘Two policemen, heading right towards me.’ His pace had slowed noticeably as indecision took hold. ‘I won’t make it to the alley.’

‘Are they running or walking?’

Alex forced himself to look at them, to assess the slow, measured tread of their boots on the cracked pavement. ‘Just walking, I think. They’re talking to each other.’

‘Are their hands on their weapons?’

‘Not that I can see.’

‘Then they’re just a foot patrol walking their regular beat,’ she decided. ‘Walk past them, carry on talking into the phone and don’t pay them any attention.’

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Alex hissed. ‘They’re not stupid. They’ll know something’s wrong.’

‘They pass hundreds of people just like you every day. They won’t stop you unless you give them a reason to, so calm down and keep walking.’

He was committed now anyway, he realized. He couldn’t turn around without making it look like he was deliberately avoiding them, and attempting to flee now would only make things worse. One way or another he had to tough it out.

Forcing himself to maintain what he believed to be a casual walking pace, he made his way reluctantly towards the two police officers. Every step was a conscious effort that became harder and harder every time, yet he forced himself to carry on.

As they drew closer, he couldn’t help noticing that they were both taller and bigger than him. In his panicky state they seemed to loom like giants before him, powerful and menacing, and watchful for the slightest hint of fear.

‘Yeah, I don’t know what you were playing at last night, Mike,’ Alex said, forcing terse joviality into his voice as he carried on an imaginary conversation with the phone. ‘Talk about letting the side down, mate. You were hammered even before the tequila shots started.’

The two officers could plainly hear the sirens from around the corner by now. Alex watched as one of them pointed and said something to his companion, their pace quickening. No doubt they sensed trouble and wanted to investigate for themselves.

They were getting close now, no more than fifteen yards between them, the distance closing fast now that both cops had speeded up. The only relief was that neither of them seemed to have noticed Alex. Their attention was firmly on the noise and commotion coming from around the corner.

‘What’s that, mate?’ Alex said into the phone, almost forgetting the ruse he was trying to maintain. ‘Yeah, there’s some trouble here by the sounds of things. Probably a couple of pissheads having a punch-up.’

Just ahead, a couple of gangly looking teenagers were standing outside a door leading into the communal stairwell for the apartment block towering above them. One of them had buzzed the intercom and was waiting for a reply, a plastic carrier bag bulging with cans of beer clutched in his hand. His friend spared the two police an unwelcoming glance, perhaps having had run-ins with them in the past.

Ten yards to go. Almost there.

It was then that Alex heard the crackle of a radio. A police radio. And from this distance, despite the static and the distant wail of sirens, he was able to make out the message with terrible clarity.

‘All units be advised, suspect on foot near Highfield Avenue. IC1 male, late twenties wearing jeans and dark hooded top. Possibly heading south.’

That was it.

In that instant, Alex knew he’d been discovered. Unable to help himself, he glanced up at the officer whose radio had just betrayed him, saw the dawning realisation in the man’s eyes as the pieces came together, saw him reach down for the pepper spray at his belt even as his mouth opened to shout a warning to his colleague.

It was then that something happened. To Alex’s left, there was an electronic buzz as the stairwell door was unlocked from one of the flats above. Eager to get in out of the cold and drizzle, the young man with the carrier bag reached out to open it.

Alex reacted on instinct, moving almost before he was aware of what was happening. Rushing forward, he threw his arm out and caught the youth square in the chest, knocking him backward. There was a startled shout as he stumbled and fell in the police officers’ path, slowing them down for a few precious moments.

Before his friend had time to react or the police untangled themselves from the makeshift obstacle, Alex had slipped in through the gap and pulled the door shut behind him. There was a faint click as the magnetic lock engaged once more, temporarily sealing him inside.

Desperate and breathing harder as adrenaline caused his heart rate to soar, he glanced around, taking in the empty concrete stairwell that smelled faintly of urine. He might have bought himself reprieve, but it was unlikely to last for long. Already he could hear boots hammering against the door, accompanied by muffled shouts.

‘I’m trapped,’ he said into the phone, hoping against hope that his mysterious guide might be able to help him. ‘The police rumbled me. I had no choice.’

‘Where are you?’

‘In a stairwell. One of the blocks facing onto the street.’

There was a pause as she considered this new development. ‘Is there another exit?’

Alex let out a breath. The only doors on this level led into the residents’ flats, and somehow he doubted they’d let him in. ‘Not on this floor.’

‘Then go up,’ she said, speaking with that same controlled, measured voice. ‘To the roof. Hurry.’

Alex was too frightened to question or protest. Doing his best to get more air in his lungs, he rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Already the muscles in his legs were burning with the exertion, but he did his best to ignore it, concentrating only on putting more distance between himself and his pursuers.

The buzz of the door below told him the police had made entry. It wouldn’t take them long to figure out where he was heading.

His breath coming in painful gasps, he halted as he reached a security door at the very top of the stairwell, its bright yellow sign announcing that it was alarmed and to be used in emergencies only.

‘I’m here, but there’s an alarm on the door,’ he whispered.

‘Then you’ll have to move fast,’ she advised. ‘There should be a fire escape on one side of the roof. Find it and use it to get down to the street.’

Alex closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. Easy for her to say.

Wasting no more time, he shoved the door release bar and threw it open, rushing out onto the roof. As he’d expected, it was cluttered with TV aerials, satellite dishes and all kinds of vents and fans whose purpose he didn’t understand.

The rain was still falling steadily, having graduated from fine mist to heavy droplets that quickly soaked through his clothes. As the security alarm started wailing behind him, he looked around, desperately searching for the fire escape that would lead him back downstairs.

Sure enough, a retractable ladder was fixed to the edge of the roof opposite. Sprinting over, he shoved the phone into his pocket and bent down to inspect the device, trying to ignore the sickening feeling of vertigo that the sixty-foot drop provoked in him.

The ladder was set into metal runners drilled into the side of the building, and held in place by a simple mechanical latch. One good pull should be enough to release it, sending it all the way down to street level. The climb down wasn’t going to be fun, but even for Alex it was better than the alternative.

Reaching out, he grabbed the release handle and pulled.

Nothing happened.

Gritting his teeth, he braced one foot against the wall and pulled again, harder this time, his untested muscles straining with the effort. Still the latch remained stubbornly fixed in place.