Split Second (25 page)

‘No. Wait.’ My fingers fumbled as I rolled the numbers on the combination to the day and month of my birthday: 259 – and lifted the lid of the box. I blinked with shock at the
black Glock pistol that met my eyes.

Aaron took a small step towards me, his arm still around Jas’s shoulders.

‘Stop.’ There was no more time. I took the gun out of the box and pointed it straight at Aaron’s forehead.

Aaron’s eyes widened. Jas gasped.

They both looked utterly terrified. I hardened my heart. They would understand when they were safe. I had no choice. Drawing on all my training, knowing that I had to make them believe I would
use the gun, I narrowed my eyes and pointed towards the fire door.

‘Outside. Now,’ I ordered. ‘Or I’ll shoot.’

The door at the end of the tube platform would surely be locked. Even as I watched George reach for the handle, I was convinced it would remain shut, that there was no way
through. But to my surprise the door opened easily. I glanced over my shoulder, back along the platform. Saxon66 and two other, black-shirted men appeared at the far end. They were looking
around.

‘They’re here.’ I tightened my grip on the backpack. My palms felt clammy with sweat.

‘Go.’ George stood back, holding the door open. ‘Taylor says to follow the tunnels using your map. Room 3 is just through here. Someone will meet you in room 46. You have
fifteen minutes to get there.’

‘Aren’t you coming?’ I said.

‘I’m the decoy.’ George smiled. Then he shoved a tiny torch into my hand, turned and raced away, disappearing into the oncoming crowd.

I watched him go, feeling uneasy. The platform was full of people now, mostly either looking down at their phones or up at the electronic destinations board. I slipped through the door and
closed it swiftly behind me. I was in a dark room that smelled of dust and damp. A breeze blew around my legs. I switched on the small torch George had given me. The room was square, with metal
pipes running along the walls. I focused on the map on my phone. It showed a series of lines and boxes. Each box had a number. I found ‘3’. George had said that was
this
room.
I searched for the number ‘46’. There it was. That was where I had to head for. Man, it looked miles away. How was I going to get there in just fifteen minutes?

I set off. The network of tunnels I was following seemed to be completely separate from the tube line though at first I could still hear the trains rumbling past on the other side of the thick,
damp, brick walls. The bag over my shoulder grew heavier and heavier as I walked. Soon the draught around my legs died away, then the sound of the tube trains faded too. Several of the doors had,
clearly, once been boarded up or padlocked. In two cases the padlocks hung off chains that had been cut clean through with bolt cutters.

Questions raced through my head. Who had come down here ahead of me and opened all these doors? Where did the tunnels lead? And what was in the bag I was carrying? If I hadn’t been under
such time pressure I would have stopped and looked, but I only had a few minutes now to reach room 46. Who was going to meet me? Was it Taylor himself? I had to admire him. He might be irritatingly
officious sometimes, but tonight his thoroughness in having prepared a back-up plan had probably saved me from being caught by the League of Iron.

I just hoped that George was all right – and Charlie too, back at the party. I checked the time again. Only a couple of minutes until I had to be in room 46. I sped up, jogging through the
next dusty tunnel. The bag with the package felt heavier than ever, a solid weight against my back. If the next part of my mission went smoothly, maybe there was still a chance I could see Charlie
again this evening.

The underground world was dark and silent. My torchlight caught a couple of mice scuttling out of the way as I reached room 39. Yet despite the shadowy gloom down here, I didn’t feel
scared. Just preoccupied with concern for George and a desire to be with Charlie as soon as possible.

I kept running. I stopped for a second in room 44 to catch my breath. I could hear traffic immediately above my head. I must have been walking gradually uphill for a while to be so close to the
surface. It felt weird to think I was under roads. I shone my torch around the room. Metal pipes ran along one wall. The light glinted off iron rungs that led up to a rusty manhole cover in the
ceiling.

I shuddered, imagining the tarmac and all the cars and the buildings on either side pressing down on me, then I moved through another tiny room and into my final destination, room 46.

No-one was here. The traffic noises had subsided too. Did that mean I was underneath a building now? I shone my torch around the room. There wasn’t much to see: the same bare floor and
brick walls as elsewhere.

Where was my contact? George had said that I should get here within fifteen minutes, implying that whoever was meeting me was operating to a deadline. I frowned. I had made the journey through
the tunnels within the given quarter of an hour, so my contact should already be here, shouldn’t he?

What was I supposed to do now? Just wait? I peered around the room. I seemed to have reached the end of the tunnels. How was the person meeting me going to get here except along the same
underground network I had just run through?

I laid the backpack carefully on the floor. I wondered again what exactly was inside it. Taylor had said that it contained information that could potentially bring down the League of Iron. What
on earth did that mean? The information certainly wasn’t paper-based. The bag was too heavy for that.

I shone the torch around the room again. There was definitely no sign that anyone else had been here. I was supposed to wait to hand over the bag but what if something had happened to whoever
was due to meet me? No way was I going to retrace my steps carrying that heavy backpack without at least taking a peek inside it. It was totally against the rules, of course, but I was quite alone
here. No-one would know that I’d taken a look.

Without thinking about it any more, I opened the top of the bag and peered inside. The package inside was wrapped in some kind of green material. I shone my torch more closely. It was a scarf .
. . with the League of Iron’s emblem printed across it in blacks and browns. I had seen one just like it in the house Charlie and I had broken into.

I gulped. I hadn’t expected that. Did this mean the package inside the scarf had been stolen from a League member? I had to see what it was. Holding the torch between my teeth, I drew the
heavy package gently out of the backpack, placed it on the floor and peeled the edge of the scarf away. Some sort of metal container was underneath. I folded back the rest of the scarf, freeing a
cube of metal about the width of a shoebox. Two wires poked out of the side. I turned the box over. A display screen was running some kind of countdown.

2:13 . . . 2:12 . . . 2:11 . . .

What the hell was this?

A split second later, I realised.

I stared at the numbers, numb with horror.

2:02 . . . 2:01 . . . 2:00
. . .

The box was a bomb. And it was going to go off in two minutes.

I held the Glock steady, the barrel pointed at Aaron’s head. ‘Move,’ I ordered.

‘What are you doing?’ Jas’s hands flew to her mouth.

‘Come on, Charlie, this isn’t funny,’ Aaron protested.

‘I’m not laughing.’ I
had
to get Aaron out of here
now
. I turned the gun on Jas. ‘If you don’t move now, I’ll shoot her.’

Jas gasped.

‘Okay.’ Aaron grinned, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Whatever, I’m moving.’

I kept my gaze on him steady. In the distance the party music changed to a bass-heavy dance track. Aaron edged past me to the fire door.

‘Please, stop, Charlie,’ Jas pleaded.

‘It’s for his own safety,’ I said.

‘Where are you going?’ She was crying. I kept my eyes on Aaron who had reached the door.

I bit hard on my lip, trying to block the feelings of guilt that swamped me. I wanted to run over and put my arms around Jas and explain properly, but I knew I had to stay focused on the
mission. I
had
to get Aaron out of here.

‘You’re doing well,’ Taylor murmured in my ear.

My resolve strengthened. I could explain to Jas later.

‘Take me too,’ she sobbed.

‘No,’ Taylor snapped in my ear.

‘No,’ I said. Aaron was the target. Until he was properly safe, anyone anywhere near him was in danger. ‘I can’t, Jas. You have to trust me.’

‘I don’t understand,’ she wept.

I snatched a look at her. Her hands were clasped so tightly together that the knuckles were white. Her eyes were round and scared, tears streaming down her face.

‘Open the door.’ I turned back to Aaron, hardening my voice.

Aaron pushed the metal bar down and the fire door opened. The night air rushed in around us. I shivered, cold in my blue dress. Aaron walked out, onto the fire escape.

‘Down the steps,’ I ordered.

‘You’re nearly there,’ Taylor murmured. ‘My car will meet you outside.’

I followed Aaron down the iron staircase. We were in an alleyway. Music from inside the club filled the air.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Aaron demanded.

Ignoring him, I glanced towards the busy street just a few metres away. As I watched, Taylor’s car swerved off the street and along the alley. It pulled up alongside us with a jolt.

‘Get in,’ Taylor said. His darkened window was slightly down so I could hear him properly both live and through my earpiece.

Relief swamped me. Now Taylor could explain everything to Aaron so that he would understand.

I opened the back door. ‘In here,’ I ordered Aaron.

‘No way.’ He stepped back.

‘We are out of time, Charlie,’ Taylor barked.

I pressed the Glock against Aaron’s side. ‘
In
.’

With a final and despairing look, Aaron crawled onto the back seat. ‘You’re freaking
kidnapping
me?’ he protested.

‘It’s to keep you safe,’ I said, scrambling in after him. ‘Trust me.’

I slammed the door shut. Taylor was sitting in the passenger seat, next to the driver. Both wore masks, but I recognised Taylor from the shape of his head. A moment later the car roared off.

I removed my earpiece and sat back, feeling my entire body relax. I’d done it. Aaron was out.

‘What’s going on?’ Aaron said. His voice shook.

‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘You’re safe now.’ I turned to Taylor, wondering why he didn’t take off the mask. Was it really that important Aaron didn’t
see his face? ‘What’s happened to Mr and Mrs Latimer? Are they okay?’

‘My mum and dad?’ Aaron paled. ‘What have you done with them?’

‘I don’t have an update,’ Taylor said.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Aaron asked.

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure your parents are fine,’ I insisted, wondering why Taylor wasn’t attempting to be more reassuring. ‘We’re just taking you
somewhere safe.’

‘Where?’ Aaron’s voice cracked. ‘
Why?
What is this?’

‘Give me your phone,’ Taylor ordered.

I stared at him. Why was he asking for that? Surely it was a good thing if Aaron had the chance to reassure his parents that he was safe?

‘You are
kidding
,’ Aaron said.

‘
Now
.’

Aaron handed over his mobile. Taylor removed the sim card and dropped it out of the window.

I wriggled uneasily in my seat. Either Taylor was being totally unnecessarily security-conscious, which was of course eminently possible, or something was very, very wrong. Outside the busy
street was passing in a blur of shopfronts and lights.

‘Now
your
phone, Charlie,’ Taylor ordered.

‘What, sir?’ This, surely, was too much.

‘You heard.’

‘Why, sir? Why do you need my phone?’

Taylor said nothing. Something was definitely wrong.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

‘Phone,’ Taylor repeated.

‘No.’ I gripped the gun at my side.

‘You will follow my orders, Charlie, like you’ve been trained to,’ Taylor insisted.

I glanced through the window. The streets of Camden were giving way to those of Kentish Town and Tufnell Park. Beside me, Aaron gripped his seat. I could hear his breath, all jagged and
shallow.

Then I held the Glock up and pointed it at Taylor.

‘Tell me where we’re going,’ I asked.

Taylor laughed and the sound chilled my blood. ‘It’s not loaded,’ he said.

I checked the extractor. Taylor was right. I hadn’t noticed before, but the indicator showed that the chamber was empty. I reached for the car door, but it was centrally locked. What the
hell was Taylor playing at?

Taylor shook his head. ‘You did well, Charlie, but you can stop now. Aaron is exactly where he’s supposed to be. Now give me your phone.’ He held up his own gun. He
didn’t point it at me. He didn’t have to. I knew how fast and how accurate Taylor was with a pistol.

I handed him my phone.

‘Now sit back,’ Taylor said. ‘I’m sure you’d rather I didn’t tie you up, so keep still and shut up, both of you.’ He turned around to face the
front.

I sat, frozen. I could feel the blood draining from my face as the horrific realisation filled me. Taylor had betrayed the EFA. Betrayed
me
.

‘You made it up,’ I said, my voice hoarse. ‘There was no assassination plot. You just wanted Aaron.’

‘And he’s here now,’ Taylor said. ‘Which is thanks to you, so well done.’

My head spun with confusion. What was going on?

Across the back seat, huddled in his corner, Aaron looked at me with wide, terror-stricken eyes. Outside we were zooming along a fast road. I could see people on the distant pavements but I knew
they couldn’t see in at us.

Aaron is exactly where he’s supposed to be . . . you did well.

I still had no idea what was happening, but one thing was clear: Taylor had kidnapped Aaron.