Hard Return

by Rosie Claverton

  ‘What are you doing out here?’ Cerys said.

  ‘Frieda relieved me of duty. Amy’s in charge now.’

  Cerys knew that was down to them, but she said nothing. The streets flew by too fast, empty in the early hours of Friday morning, before Owain headed out of the city. The silence was weighing on her, but she wasn’t prepared to break it. Afraid that any fracture in it would force her to confess a hundred unsayable things.

  ‘How do you know what’s happened?’ Catriona asked.

  Cerys could’ve murdered her.

  ‘Amy sent an SOS text to the duty desk. I intercepted it. The private line to the compound is dead and all the Eye logins are disconnected. That’s impossible, unless they’ve been cut off from the network somehow.’

  Cerys only understood half of what he was saying, but it didn’t sound good.

  ‘What’s the plan?’ she asked.

  Owain just gripped the steering wheel tighter.

  ‘Of course you don’t have a fucking plan,’ Catriona said, quietly furious. ‘You never think things through.’

  Caught in her own pain, Cerys had forgotten how much Owain had wronged Catriona too. How she had lost her dream job because he had run off to the NCA.

  ‘If you have something to say, Cat, just say it.’

  ‘Don’t call her Cat, dickhead.’

  The words were out without her thinking them through, but then they hung between them, echoing in the silence. Dick-head-head-head.

  ‘You don’t have to come with me,’ Owain said, jaw tightly clenched.

  ‘We’re here for Jason and Amy. That’s it. We’re not friends, Owain.’

  ‘I know that. Let’s just get the job done.’

  They spent the rest of the journey in absolute silence, Owain only slowing his breakneck speed as they came closer to their destination.

  ‘I…I don’t know the exact location.’

  ‘Take the next right,’ Cerys said, remembering her way. ‘We’ll go in the back.’

  ‘There’s only one—’

  ‘Just trust me.’ For once, Owain, just trust me. ‘You want this left.’

  Owain took the turning and then stopped suddenly. ‘This is a farmyard.’

  Catriona opened the back door. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  She ran across the yard, leaving Cerys and Owain alone in the car.

  ‘Is it too late to say I’m sorry?’ Owain said.

  ‘You can say it,’ Cerys bit out, damping down the piece of her heart that leapt at the apology. ‘It doesn’t mean I forgive you.’

  ‘I am sorry. I fucked this up, all of it. I’ve lost…pretty much everything I cared about.’

  ‘I don’t care about your sob story.’ She heard the harshness in her voice, swallowing against the lump in her throat. ‘Jason and Amy are basically under house arrest because of what you did.’

  ‘I tried to save you! She was going to take away your career!’

  Cerys recoiled from him in horror. ‘Tell me you didn’t. Tell me this wasn’t about me.’

  He looked young again, miserable and lost. She hated that it still affected her.

  ‘I thought I could protect you all from the inside. I was wrong about that.’

  ‘You’ve been wrong about a fucking long list of things, Owain. Now, my brother is in danger—’

  ‘That is nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Will you take responsibility for fucking anything?’

  The back door slammed.

  ‘He says it’s fine.’

  ‘Reverse out of here and head further down the road.’ Cerys was pleased that her voice was mostly under control again. ‘You want the gate on the left.’

  ‘He said to block it.’

  ‘Who is this man?’

  ‘The farmer who is kindly doing us a favour.’

  Owain pulled into the gateway, almost knocking off the passenger-side wing mirror. Cerys resisted the urge to shout at him and clambered through the back. She scaled the gate, took the bundle Catriona handed her, then waited for her to climb over. The blanket-wrapped object was long and, as the wind gusted past, the cover blew back and her fingers touched metal.

  ‘What’s this?’ she asked warily.

  ‘Shotgun.’

  ‘What? Cat, you – Catriona, you have to take that back.’

  Catriona lifted it out of Cerys’ arms, leaving her with the blanket. She flicked on a torch attached to a carabiner on her jeans, lighting their way across the field towards the deep, dark wood.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  Cerys dumped the blanket and followed her closely, glad when Owain chose to keep his distance. She didn’t want to continue their arguments with a shotgun in the mix.

  ‘Do you know how to use that?’ she asked, under her breath.

  ‘Yes,’ Catriona said, curtly.

  ‘All right then!’ Cerys clapped her hands. ‘It’s a party.’

  ‘Can’t you take anything seriously?’ Owain complained.

  ‘Can’t you just fuck off?’

  It was a shame the shotgun would get in the way of a high-five.

  ‘Neither of you are behaving professionally.’

  ‘This isn’t a work trip, Owain. We’re doing you a favour, to save our friends. I’ll be as unprofessional as I like.’

  Cerys felt absurdly proud of her, squeezing Catriona’s shoulder in solidarity and leaning in to her warmth. They reached the edge of the woodland, the torchlight bouncing off the thick trunks of the trees.

  ‘What now?’ Owain asked.

  ‘Now we go in,’ Catriona said and, raising the gun, she walked into enemy territory.

  Chapter 47: Divide and Conquer

  Amy’s cheek was smarting from where Pansy had slapped her. She was both surprised and hurt that Jason hadn’t murdered him.

  Pansy hadn’t tried to get any more information and was now sulking in the corner with Owain’s laptop. However, if Frieda wasn’t coming to get them, Amy was just prolonging the agony by refusing to cooperate. They might as well get this experiment over with. Yes, a murderer would walk free, but that was the entire point of Frieda’s bargain. Why had she even sent Owain in if she wasn’t interested in justice?

  Martin was lurking in the background, saying and doing nothing. It seemed like no one had a plan about what happened next. She wished she could come up with something, but her attention was caught by her stinging skin and Jason standing in front of her. He looked as stressed as she felt.

  ‘Jason – bring the leader to my office,’ Martin said. ‘Let’s settle this.’

  Jason took a moment to respond, before lurching forward and dragging Amy up by her arm.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said, voice rough.

  Amy put up some token resistance, while enjoying the warmth on her arm. If she wasn’t being walked to her doom, she would be pleased at the contact. Her brain tried to cobble together some kind of defence to whatever Martin was going to say, but she had nothing. Jason was here and everything would be all right.

  The door to her office was ajar. The man with dreadlocks was staring at the screen intently. He looked up and shut the lid as they came in.

  ‘No luck with the password,’ he said.

  ‘Leave that to Pansy. And leave us please.’

  He looked between them all, before leaving without a word, shutting the door behind him.

  ‘Amy,’ Martin nodded to her. ‘Jason. Don’t let me get in the way of your reunion.’

  Jason dropped his hand from her shoulder, though their arms were still touching.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked, forcing her voice to stay calm. Be like Frieda.

  ‘I want to get out of here. Like Pansy, I don’t trust anyone to keep their promises.’

  ‘Who killed Mole?’ Jason asked, as if that s
till mattered.

  ‘I didn’t see his face,’ Martin said, deflating. ‘But he…he dragged Mole past my office. Then presumably out into the garden, before the doors locked.’

  ‘He was killed in the kitchen then,’ Jason said, sounding triumphant. Amy would be proud if she wasn’t also sick with dread.

  ‘What do you want?’

  Martin collected himself, assuming his mask as she assumed hers. They were playing the game again, except it was deadly and desperate.

  ‘I want you to open that door.’

  ‘I can’t,’ she said.

  ‘And I believe you. But my young men won’t, I’m afraid. You need to arrange some way for it to open. Quickly, please.’

  ‘You’ll want to take hostages.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Take me and release the rest.’

  ‘I need more than that.’

  ‘You can have three.’

  ‘Ten.’

  ‘Five.’

  ‘Done.’

  Amy felt her skin come out in goose pimples. She had just bartered with five people’s lives, as if they were nothing. They could all die and it would be her fault. The mask was starting to stick.

  ‘If I persuade the agents inside the dormitory to open the door, I want them to be allowed to leave with the others.’

  ‘I said I’ll only keep five – including you. The rest can enjoy the facilities in the compound, as we have enjoyed them for the past few months.’

  Amy nodded, feeling drained. This should be Owain standing here. It was her fault that it wasn’t. He would’ve known how to conduct a hostage negotiation. Instead, she was just winging it. This was not the kind of thing she wanted to be blagging.

  ‘I will allow you five minutes,’ Martin said, unexpectedly. ‘Jason will have to come with us to avoid suspicion.’

  He stood up and left them, closing the door behind him. Jason hauled her into his arms, crushing her ribcage and her lungs and her heart – but she didn’t care. She kissed at his neck, hands pressing hard into his back, as if she could keep him this close just by the force of her effort.

  Then, she broke away, feeling his kiss glance off her bruised cheek, as she looked for the phone she had dropped into the shadows

  ‘Cerys will answer her phone,’ she said, searching through her contacts.

  ‘I’ve missed you too.’

  The phone didn’t ring. She checked it again – no signal.

  ‘They’ve reactivated the jammer,’ she said, her heart sinking. ‘We’re really on our own.’

  ‘This will work,’ Jason said, with certainty. ‘You’ll get the hostages to safety and then we’ll walk out of here. We’ll all go our separate ways and I’ll meet you back in Cardiff.’

  He made it sound so simple, and not like every word was loaded with a thousand ifs, ands, or buts. It had been so much easier when she had lived inside her flat, only speaking to people on her terms, not responsible for anybody – barely responsible for herself. Bad things happened when other people’s lives were in her hands.

  ‘What about the second stage?’ she said.

  Jason looked at her, uncomprehending. ‘What second stage?’

  ‘There should be another set of tasks after this – that’s what Owain said.’

  ‘Owain was here?’ Jason looked even more confused.

  ‘Never mind. We’ll figure it out.’ She hesitated. ‘What about the murderer?’

  She'd convinced herself she didn’t really care about that, but she did care. The prisoners were her responsibility as well as the agents. She couldn’t let them out only for them to kill each other in the woods.

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ Jason said, but Amy saw something in his eyes.

  ‘He pushed you off the roof!’ she said. ‘And he’s blinded a man.’

  Now Jason definitely looked uncomfortable. ‘He didn’t push me – well, I know who that was. He, uh, said he was sorry.’

  Amy looked at him in disbelief. ‘Well, that’s okay then,’ she said, sarcastically. ‘I’m glad we cleared that up.’

  ‘Let me take care of the cons,’ Jason said. ‘You concentrate on the hostages.’

  Amy nodded, though she didn’t agree. She stuffed the phone in her pocket and opened the office door. Jason placed a hand on her arm, proprietorially, but she was glad to have it back. He walked her back to the Eye Room, where she surveyed her team.

  ‘IN1, IN2, IN4, IN6 – you’re with me. Everyone else is moving up into the compound until the experiment is terminated.’

  She met the gaze of the four people she had condemned with her, but only IN1 looked scared. IN2 nodded to her, as if he was proud. She felt like she might not be totally fucking this up after all.

  ‘Gov, what’s going on?’ Pansy whined. ‘I wanted all these girls.’

  ‘The hostages are not to be touched,’ Martin said, with finality.

  ‘Stoker and Lewis – with me,’ Dreadlock said. ‘We’ll escort the rest up to the compound.’

  ‘Anchor, will you give us a hand with the dormitory?’ Jason said, to one of the remaining men. ‘Nikolai’s down there.’

  ‘I’m reading you,’ Anchor said, nudging Amy with tip of his club. It was P6. The undercover agent. ‘Off we go then.’

  Amy led them out into the corridor and down towards the dormitories. One man was holding a faltering flare, while the other repeatedly kicked at the door with no results. The flare-holder held up the light to Amy and whistled.

  ‘You brought us a tasty treat, Jay Bird?’

  ‘Shut it, Gareth. We’re releasing hostages.’

  ‘Why would we do that?’

  The Russian accent of the door-kicker was sneering, and he looked at her suspiciously. It was P4 again, the one who had dragged her out from under the desk by her hair. Her scalp smarted just thinking about it. He was probably the one Jason had called Nikolai.

  ‘Governor’s orders,’ Jason said. ‘Show of good faith, all that shit.’

  Nikolai snorted but said nothing more. Jason gestured Amy forward towards the door. She took a hesitant step forward and quietly cleared her throat. She had no idea if the security guys would listen to her, but she had to try. Of course, if they wanted to stay locked up in here, that was their choice. She didn’t have time to free people who didn’t want out.

  ‘Attention, SD1. This is Agent Lane. You are being moved as part of a hostage negotiation. Will you open the door?’

  After she'd said it, she realised she should’ve made the question an order. Given the prisoners the impression that she expected to be obeyed, that she really was the one in charge.

  ‘Override code, Agent,’ SD1 called back.

  Shit. She didn’t have a code. If there was a code, Owain hadn’t given it to her. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

  She looked behind her, at Jason – and at Anchor. He was IN0. He had to know the override code. But he said nothing, did nothing. He wasn’t going to help them.

  The door burst open. Gareth dropped the flare.

  Amy was flung back against the wall, her head banging hard against it. She bit down on her tongue, tasting metal, and belatedly realised she was sitting on the floor. Someone tripped over her legs and went flying. Further down the corridor, someone shouted and another person cried out. Bodies collided, punches connected, and soft squishy bodies hit hard surfaces.

  Amy tried to get her legs under her, but someone was calling her name, someone she loved, and she had to stay where she was. Then, there was only silence.

  ‘Pansy, put the lights on!’

  ‘Gov—’

  ‘Now!’

  The strip lighting flicked on, blinding her and causing an ice pick to lodge in her temple. Jason was hovering over her, staring frantically into her eyes, as if checking to see if she was alive.
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  ‘Up,’ she said, her voice thick, her bitten tongue too big for her mouth.

  Jason helped her to her feet, and she looked down the corridor. People were lying on the floor, prisoners and agents. And there was blood. A lot of blood. What had happened? What had she done?

  She counted two female agents, supporting each other to stand, and a couple of prisoners staggering to their feet. But one remained motionless on the floor, a dark puddle spreading over the corridor floor from beneath him.

  Jason half-carried her down the corridor, and they stood over a young man who was lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling with sightless eyes, as blood sluggishly flowed out of his neck, from between Pansy’s fingers. Amy numbly recognised him as P10, her regular wanderer. He won’t wander anymore.

  ‘Roshan…’ Jason said, sounding as if he'd been punched in the gut.

  The Governor looked at her, eyes cold and hard, more terrifying now than he had ever been to her – even when he wanted her dead.

  ‘You did this,’ he said. ‘Tell me why I shouldn’t kill every one of you.’

  Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, her head spun, but she had to answer him. She had to speak for the remaining lives under her care, even if she had failed this one.

  ‘Because They will never stop hunting you,’ she said.

  Chapter 48: Opportunity Knocks

  They wrapped Roshan up in a blanket and placed him on a bed in one of the dormitories. Joe insisted that he wanted to stay with him and Jason pretended he hadn’t seen him crying.

  The injured were kept in the other dormitory, prisoner and agent, with Anchor doing his first aid, and Jason and Lewis standing watch. Amy was being held separately from the others now, and Jason and Anchor were being kept away. In disgrace, for having fucked up so badly.

  Nikolai had dislocated his shoulder and had passed out from the pain. The two agents were women who had been taken out by prisoners as they tried to escape, but they only had cuts and bruises to show for it. Jason didn’t know what was happening with the other agents, but he needed to find out. Amy’s plan was up in smoke, so he needed to step up. He was the master of getting out of tough scrapes, after all.