Every Second Counts (17 page)

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Authors: Sophie McKenzie

BOOK: Every Second Counts
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‘The League of Iron leader wants to join the resistance?’ I asked, shocked.

‘Yes, in fact as of last night he
has
joined.
And
that heinous Goth woman he hangs out with, WhiteRaven. If you ask me, she’s even worse than he is.’

‘But we can’t let them be part of the resistance, they’re as bad as Riley.’

‘I know.’ Parveen sighed. ‘It sucks. But the point is that trying to find them I almost got captured by Riley and that’s why I’ve been out of contact.
Nightmare.’ Pareven paused. ‘Hey, Nat, you sound weird, have you been
crying
?

‘No. Course not.’ I sniffed, rubbing my face with the back of my sleeve.

‘Good,’ she went on, ‘because yesterday I finally made it to the main London safe house and everyone’s there.’

‘Including Saxon 66 and WhiteRaven?’ I said, still unable to believe that two such violent racists had been allowed to join the resistance.

‘Yeah, we’re all just one big happy family at resistance HQ,’ Parveen said drily. ‘Apart from the League of Iron couple – who are now Resistance Pair Seventeen, by
the way – there’s me and the guy from Two and the people from Six, Eight and Ten, plus Julius and Lennox in Nine, who you met the other day. We’re having a meeting later.
Apparently the Mayor of London’s coming along. He’s been supplying the guys in London with all sorts of tech and a few tasers. We’re hoping he’ll be able to give us some
muscle, maybe even proper weapons, as well.’

‘Really?’ This tallied with what Latimer himself had told me earlier. I felt some of the tension inside me ease. I was starting to believe that perhaps he really was on our side.

‘Julius and Lennox have news about Charlie, by the way,’ Parveen added.

My heart leaped. ‘Really? Is she okay? Where is she?’

Parveen chuckled. ‘Ah, I heard you guys were an item. About time.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing, it was just obvious between the two of you, though both of you were too pigheaded to see it.’

‘What’s the
news
, Par?’ I asked pointedly. A gaggle of schoolkids headed past. They were laughing, not a care in the world. I had been like that once a million years
ago. Avoiding the group, I headed for the shelter of a boarded-up shop doorway. The street was full of them. When Lucas had first been brought to this hospital, this street had been thriving and
busy. Now hardly any of the shops were even open.

‘She’s with Riley. Successfully undercover,’ Parveen said, suddenly sounding very businesslike.

‘How do you know? Did she get a message out?’

‘Nah. The guy from Resistance Ten managed to hack an email Riley was sent from a guy called Uchi. It was encrypted, but we’ve got this new software, thanks to Latimer,
so—’

‘What did the email say?’

‘I’m getting to that.’ Parveen tutted at my impatience. ‘It was basically an update on how Charlie is training for a mission. Something called Operation Neptune.
There’s a film of her actually in training.’

‘Can I see it?’

‘It’s in the draft email box,’ Parveen said. ‘We got it this morning and we’ve been trying to work out what it means, what kind of mission they’re
planning.’

‘I see.’ I leaned against the boarded-up door. The wood felt cold against my back. ‘But Charlie hasn’t been in touch herself?’

‘No.’ Parveen hesitated. ‘But from the email it looks like the guy who sent it – Uchi – is her dad, so she’s obviously found him. That’s all we
know.’

‘I’ll take a look at the film,’ I said.

‘Good,’ Parveen said. ‘The safe house address is there with it. Come here as soon as you can.’

She rang off. Filled with a new purpose I opened the browser on the smartphone Latimer had given me. I logged on to the resistance email address and checked the draft email box. I found
Parveen’s message easily enough. It was brief and to the point, simply giving me the South London address of the safe house where she and the other Resistance Pairs had gathered.

The video attachment was a grainy colour film. It looked, as Parveen had said, as if it had been taken on a mobile phone, and it showed the back of a house, a patio and a swimming pool, its
waters disturbed. I peered closer. Two smudged figures in wet suits were visible, slipping through a series of narrow hoops set to the bottom of the pool. I couldn’t be a hundred percent
certain, but one of the figures looked a lot like Charlie. The other was definitely a boy.

Was that the training session Parveen had referred to? I frowned. EFA training normally involved guns and bombs, not underwater party tricks. I watched the two people swimming. After a couple of
minutes they got out. I stared, transfixed, as Charlie removed her mask. She looked amazing in that skin-tight suit. She said something to the boy with her. He was about our age: tall and slim,
with a shock of curly black hair.

As I watched, the boy’s face broke into a huge smile. Man, he was
really
good-looking. I felt a stab of jealousy as the two of them walked around the pool. The boy was standing too
close to her. He pointed to something in the water and touched her shoulder.

‘Get off her,’ I found myself growling under my breath.

Who was that guy? The film ended as abruptly as it had begun. I played it again. Swimming through hoops? What was that about? It didn’t make sense. I closed my browser and hurried to the
tube station. I knew, as I got on to my tube train and headed to meet Parveen, that whatever Riley was planning must be going to happen soon, that with the election just four days away everything
was coming to a head, but as I made my way towards south London, all I could think about was the guy with the black hair putting his arm around Charlie and how jealous it had made me feel.

Charlie

The streets of London gleamed from the rain as the large car glided silently along the busy road. I peered through the window, wondering where on earth we were going. We had
been driving for hours since the meeting with Riley, who had sped off in his own car with Martina after just a few minutes.

It struck me that apart from a quick ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’, Riley hadn’t really spoken to his son at all. Maybe I could use the fact that he paid Spider so little
attention to help make Spider question his views and his plans.

Up front, Uchi and Taylor were talking in low voices. I leaned across the back seat and tapped Spider’s arm.

He looked up.

‘So, do you see much of your dad?’ I asked quietly.

‘Not really.’ A self-conscious flush spread over Spider’s cheeks. ‘He’s so busy, plus he doesn’t want people to know about me, says they’ll just come
snooping around. He wants to protect my mum from all that, too.’

I said nothing. Privately I suspected that Riley was more concerned with protecting his privacy than his family, but I didn’t want to antagonise Spider.

‘That must be hard,’ I said. ‘It’s a shame you don’t see more of him.’

Spider scowled. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘Dad’s busy with important stuff. It’s all cool.’ He turned away and looked, pointedly, out of the window.

I sighed inwardly. I was useless at this kind of thing, trying to talk to people about their feelings. Jas would have managed to get Spider to open up with her gentle, friendly warmth. And Nat
would have found a way too.

Nat . . . I’d have given anything for the chance to hear his voice, to find out if he was alright, to tell him I was sorry for running off and not contacting him straight away. Tears
pricked at my eyes. I forced them angrily back. This was so
not
the time to get mushy. I was still no closer to warning the resistance about tonight’s bomb than I had been two days
ago. And time was running out fast.

I sat back in silence, trying to work out how I could make a call . . .

About half an hour later Taylor pulled up outside a grungy-looking concrete block in Hackney. He got out, looked around, then pronounced that it was safe for us to leave the car. We headed
straight into the basement flat. It was, like most of the EFA bases I’d been to, a mix of high-tech equipment and shabby décor. The paint was peeling from the walls, but the living
room was set up with an entire bank of screens showing CCTV shots from around the capital. Three EFA soldiers, all with masks and guns were hunched over a set of photos pinned to the far wall. I
tried to take a closer look, but Uchi hurried Spider and me through to the kitchen – another rundown room with rusting appliances and a chipped countertop. He left us sitting at the table in
the centre of the room while a masked soldier made coffee, announced there wasn’t any milk, then went back to the living room. We stared at each other.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked.

‘The operation is a bomb,’ Spider said. ‘Taylor said I could tell you now. It’s tonight, we’re taking it somewhere – I don’t know where yet – and
setting it to go off at seven-thirty.’

This was confirmation of Operation Neptune. My heart lurched into my throat.

‘A
bomb
?

I said, trying to look like I had no idea about what was planned. ‘What else do you know?’

‘Nothing.’ Spider gave a rueful shrug. ‘Sorry, I’d tell you if I did.’

I stared at him. I was certain he was telling the truth. That was always how the EFA acted – no single individual in possession of too much information.

‘Okay, thanks,’ I said. I looked around. There was no landline in the kitchen – and concertina shutters on both the windows and the back door. Despite the fact it was two
o’clock in the afternoon and a bright spring day outside, it was gloomy in here. The dark, dampness of the place was like a physical presence, weighing down on me.

A phone in one of the other rooms rang, then stopped. A few moments later, Uchi hobbled to the kitchen door and peered around. ‘Spider, it’s your mother,’ he said, holding out
the handset. ‘You can take it in the cloakroom if you want privacy.’

Spider got up without looking at me and took the phone. He vanished and Uchi gave me a gruff smile, then pulled the door to behind him.

I sat back in my chair. I could hear everyone bustling about next door, but in here it was quiet. Spider had left his sweatshirt on the counter. As I glanced at it, I noticed the edge of his
mobile peeking out from underneath the hood.

I stared at it, my chest tightening. This was it, the opportunity I’d been waiting for. I grabbed the phone and swiped the screen, praying the mobile wasn’t set to request a
password.

It wasn’t. My heartbeat quickened as I checked the door. It was still shut. I punched Nat’s number into the handset and held it to my ear. A continuous tone sounded.
Number
unobtainable.
What did that mean? That Nat had lost his phone? Had it forcibly taken from him? Or dumped it because it had been compromised?

Footsteps sounded long the corridor. I just had time to shove the mobile behind my back, when the door opened. Taylor peered into the room.

‘Just checking you’re okay,’ he said. His green eyes pierced through me.

‘I’m fine.’ The phone felt clammy in my palm.

Taylor gave me a curious look, then he nodded and withdrew. Hands shaking, I peered at the mobile again. I only had one more opportunity to make a call.

The emergency services were out – thanks to Riley’s ability to control the police – and aside from Nat’s, the only other useful number I could remember was
Parveen’s. We’d swapped them via the draft email system weeks ago, though agreed only to use them in absolute emergencies. It was probably hopeless; after all, the last I’d heard
she’d gone off the radar. She was most likely a prisoner, or even dead. Still, it was my only remaining chance. I pressed the numbers in quickly.

The phone rang. And rang.

‘Hello?’ Parveen’s voice brought back a million sudden memories – of our training, of big, affable George, of Parveen’s wicked laugh, of Nat’s kiss.

‘Par, it’s me, Charlie,’ I whispered.

‘Charlie?’ She actually gasped. ‘Where—?’

‘Is that her?’ Nat’s voice sounded in the background. My stomach somersaulted. ‘Give me that.’

Parveen was complaining, but Nat clearly snatched the phone off her because the next thing I knew his voice was in my ear.

‘Charlie, are you okay?’

Tears sprang to my eyes. It was just so good to hear him. For a second I forgot where I was and everything that had happened since we parted.

‘I’m sorry I ran off,’ I whispered.

‘It’s okay.’ Nat lowered his voice. ‘Where are you?’

I tried to pull myself together. ‘London. Riley’s planning an attack at his own party – a drinks reception – it’s tonight.’

‘Tonight?’ Nat let his breath out in a hiss. ‘Any details of what’s involved?’

I told Nat what I’d seen in Uchi’s file. ‘It’s a bomb. Almeida Hotel basement – there’s an underwater route into the hotel. Spider – that’s
Riley’s son – he and I are supposed to be bringing the bomb in through an underwater tunnel or pipes or something.’

‘Yeah, the resistance got hold of some footage of you swimming,’ Nat said. ‘Operation Neptune, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was that Spider you were swimming with?’ His voice tensed as he spoke.

‘Yes. Look, Nat, the bomb’s planned to go off at half-seven this evening. Can you get to the hotel, warn the staff? Get the party called off?’

‘I’ll talk to the others. But if Riley’s son is involved, this is a great opportunity to let the mission play out, then capture him
with
the bomb
in
the hotel. It
will link Riley to the bomb like nothing else. He won’t be able to disown his own kid. Mayor Latimer – you know, Aaron’s dad – he’s coming here this afternoon in
person and—’

‘The Mayor of London?’ I hissed. ‘But you can’t trust—’

‘Latimer’s sound,’ Nat interrupted. ‘Seriously, I didn’t believe it at first either but it’s true.’

I said nothing. No way was I trusting Latimer.

‘Anyway, we need him,’ Nat lowered his voice. ‘Everyone’s doing their best, but the people here are untrained.’ He paused.

‘There’s no one here as good as you.’

I felt myself glow with pride.

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