by Chris Lofts
Helix lunged at Wheeler, ripping his coat open. No blood. Wheeler groaned.
‘Wheeler,’ Helix said, slapping him. ‘Come on, you idiot.’
Wheeler’s eyes sprung open. ‘Helix?’ he moaned.
‘They only stunned you. Stop whimpering.’ He wanted to ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing, but there wasn’t time and there was a growing crowd of onlookers. He climbed to his feet, flashed the ID on his sleeve display. ‘Police,’ he said with authority. ‘We have back up and ambulances on the way, clear the scene, please.’ He paused a beat and then simplified the instruction. ‘Move!’
Shaken from their collective stupor, the pedestrians began to disperse. Wheeler was sitting up. Pulling a halo-cuff from his pocket, Helix leaned down and clamped it to the side of his head. ‘Get up,’ he said.
Wheeler complied, his eyes fixed somewhere in the distance.
Helix glanced across the road towards the park. ‘Follow me,’ he said, threading through the stationary traffic.
One hour later, Helix stopped on the south side of Lambeth Bridge, snatched the halo-cuff off of Wheeler’s head and shook him.
‘My head,’ Wheeler groaned, clamping his hands over his ears. ‘Bloody hell.’
‘That’ll be the halo-cuff. It’ll pass.’
Wheeler staggered, blinking at the surroundings. ‘What happened? Where are we?’
Helix’s rage had diminished during the dash across the parks, but not by much. ‘Why did you do that?’ he spat.
‘Do what?’
‘Try to make a run for it. Do you remember that?’
Wheeler nodded. ‘Who were those men?’
‘I have no idea. There wasn’t time for introductions, but they were after you.’ Helix pressed his hands on his hips. ‘They might have been Lytkin’s men,’ he said, waiting for his words to penetrate Wheeler’s malaise.
Wheeler clutched a hand to his forehead. ‘Lytkin?’
‘Maybe. They obviously wanted you alive. That’s why they stunned you. Do you not remember what I told you about her? About Ethan? She wants you as much as she wants me and Gabrielle and it’s not for the pleasure of your company.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘Or it might have been Ormandy. I don’t know.’ He laughed. ‘You were going for your stash and you thought you’d give me the slip.’
Wheeler shrugged. ‘I’m sorry to say this, Major, but I don’t trust you.’
‘That must be the first honest thing you’ve ever said.’ Helix snorted. ‘The feeling’s mutual and for the moment, I need you where I can see you. Once we get through tonight, I’ll personally help you to disappear again.’
‘It’s a tempting offer, Major.’ Wheeler gazed across the Thames, Parliament floodlit in the distance. ‘I don’t want to disappear. This is where I belong.’
‘Too bad. You’re about as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit, remember? Come on. We need to move.’ Jabbing Wheeler in the chest, he added, ‘If you try that again, I’ll slap a cuff on you and you can do the zombie walk the rest of the way. Got it?’
Wheeler nodded and fell in alongside him as he took a sharp turn north-east. The change in direction didn’t elicit any complaints from Wheeler. Had he got the location wrong? It didn’t matter, for now. He had another errand to run.
They continued, passing Lambeth Palace, crossing Archbishop’s Park, arriving 15 minutes later at Waterloo station. He turned to Wheeler. ‘We’re going inside. Pull your hat down. You know the drill.’
‘I thought we weren’t using public transport.’
Helix ignored him and walking alongside the taxis queueing at the edge of the station, they turned in through the small side entrance and made their way to the left luggage lockers. ‘Stand there and keep an eye out. If you see anyone approaching, call it out.’
Wheeler nodded, making a production out of looking left and right beneath the peak of his fedora.
Shielded by the door, Helix bundled the leather jacket and jeans he’d taken off back at the safe house into the locker. He closed the door, making a mental note of the number and code.
They skirted the edge of the broad terrazzo concourse, left the station via the ornate main exit, crossed York Road and hurried a short distance down Sutton Walk. Hoardings with an artist’s impression of the tower block the developers promised leaned at an unsteady angle over the path. Helix paused and scanned the foot traffic. Locating a gap in the hoardings big enough to squeeze through, he waited until a gaggle of party-goers had passed. He pointed to the gap. Wheeler ducked through. Helix followed, pulling the loose hoarding closed behind him. ‘Stay close behind me,’ he whispered, edging forward around the piles of building debris towards a short flight of steps and the main entrance of the half-built block. His thermal imaging overlay revealed nothing as he scanned ahead. Switching to night vision he froze, his hand held back to Wheeler. ‘Wait here.’
Pulling one of the multi-mode grenades from his jacket pocket, he selected EMP and the low power setting. He didn’t want to take out Waterloo or himself. The contract security bot next to the door was on standby. Helix edged forward. The movement sensors on non-military models were poor. He could get within 15 feet before it would see him. He tossed the grenade up onto the top step. The bot lurched forward, its search lights activated as the grenade rolled across the rough concrete.
The view through his night vision exploded into a cloud of white light. The blindness was brief as the grenade detonated, no more than two seconds. The lights were snuffed out. A shower of sparks erupted from the bot as its circuits fried in the electro-magnetic pulse. It went limp, slumped forward and rolled down the steps into a heap at Helix’s feet. He beckoned Wheeler out from his hiding place.
Pausing inside the half-built entrance lobby, Helix waited while Wheeler caught up. His nose twitched in the dust. He stifled a sneeze and moved towards an arch set into the central core of the building. A doorless entrance led to poured concrete stairs that climbed upwards into the dark. Helix pointed the way. ‘Up you go.’
Wheeler paused. ‘Where exactly are we going?’
‘Upstairs. Move it.’
Wheeler trudged up the stairs to the first half-landing and paused. ‘I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that you’re not even remotely warm when it comes to the—’
‘Button it,’ he said, nodding towards the next flight. This has nothing to do with your shit.’
Fifteen floors later, Helix paused. ‘That’s far enough.’ He pushed past Wheeler and out into a wide lobby. The sole source of light came from the neighbouring building. Helix found and turned on a pair of building lights, illuminating the space, the disturbed dust dancing in the light. He glanced over an orange security barrier into a lift shaft. Nudging a stone over the edge he listened to the tap, tap, tap as it plunged into the lightless abyss. Nodding, he turned away and began picking over stacks of building materials and equipment while Wheeler looked on. ‘Grab that broom,’ he said, looking at Wheeler. ‘Yes, that’s a broom. I know you’ve probably never seen one before.’
Wheeler complied, holding it out towards Helix.
‘I don’t want it,’ he said, turning away. ‘Sweep all this crap down the lift shaft. I need a space about fifteen feet square.’
Wheeler tipped his hat back on his head and went to work. ‘Part of my DIY induction, is it?’
Helix ignored him, dragging a folding chair away from the wall and centring it in the space that Wheeler had swept. ‘OK. That’ll do.’ He swung the daysack off his back and put it on the chair. ‘Leave the broom outside the swept area, we don’t want it falling over,’ he said, taking out a bag and extracting four objects.
‘What are those,’ Wheeler asked, brushing dust from the arms of his coat.
Helix stepped over to one of the corners of the swept area. ‘Demolition charges.’ He placed one of the devices, about the size of a large coffee mug, onto the floor. He did the same in each of the three remaining corners and activated them, a green halo appearing ar
ound their bases.
‘Someone’s offended your architectural taste and this is your revenge?’
‘Not exactly.’ Helix sniffed. ‘OK. That should be about right.’ He put his hands on his hips, glancing at the charges. ‘Right. Take your hat and coat off.’
Wheeler complied with a look of bemusement.
‘If you need to take a piss, I suggest the lift shaft.’
Wheeler handed him his hat and coat. ‘Err. No. Thank you. I’m OK at the moment.’
‘Your shout,’ Helix said, perching the fedora on his head and tossing the coat over his shoulder. ‘Anything loose in your pockets?’
‘No,’ he replied, patting himself down to be sure.
Helix pointed to the folding chair. ‘Good. Up on the seat then. Sit on the back, feet on the seat, not on the floor.’
Wheeler took a tentative step towards the chair, pausing as Helix tapped out a series of commands on the panel in his jacket sleeve. ‘What exactly is going on, Major?’
‘Take a seat and I’ll explain.’
Wheeler climbed onto the chair as instructed, his hands flat on his thighs.
‘Okey dokey. Here we go.’ Helix stepped outside the box. A mesh of green lasers emerged from the devices, running across the floor, walls and ceiling, enclosing Wheeler in a virtual but deadly cell.
‘I don’t understand,’ Wheeler whined. ‘I thought we were—’
‘I am. You’re not.’
‘You are what?’
‘Going to collect your dirty little secret.’ He rubbed his neck. ‘Christ, Wheeler, I’m not bloody stupid. It won’t be in a safety deposit box. Too vulnerable to Ormandy and a court order. It’s not in Parliament for reasons we discussed earlier. No. You need it in a place where you can get to it away from prying eyes, but after what happened you’ll be worried that someone might find it by accident.’
‘After what happened. What are you talking about?’
‘The explosion,’ Helix said, raising his eyebrows. ‘Yes. That explosion. The one you saw on the news. When they clear the site, it’ll either be found, which could be a bit inconvenient, or it’ll might end up encased in concrete when they rebuild.’
‘It’s got a fifteen-character alpha-numeric code. You have three attempts. If you get it wrong three times the contents are destroyed.’
Helix nodded. ‘Good to know, but if you do the right thing, I won’t be needing the code. In fact, I’m not even going to ask you for it.’
‘What?’
‘You sit tight and I’ll be back as soon as I can. Oh yes, I better explain how things work just in case you haven’t worked it out. If you step off the chair, the charges detonate. If anything touches the walls, the charges detonate. Same for the ceiling. If that’s too complicated…’ He tapped a final command on his sleeve. The lasers changed from green to red. ‘Just remember not to touch anything red.’
The echoes of Wheeler’s protests were lost in the darkness as Helix updated Sofi from the stairwell. ‘Phase one complete.’
32
14 Hours
A milky steam snaked from the slick surfaces of the roads and pavements along The Strand. The rain had subsided, but the temperatures continued their tumble towards freezing. Revellers regretted their clothing choices as they stumbled from pubs, clubs and restaurants, shivering in the chill as they searched for their AVs or hailed taxis. Colourful holo-ads swarmed, plying their trade, their bio-selected victims brushing them aside like persistent flies. Sharp-suited dealers surveyed their turf from the shadows and recesses. Transactions were concluded with handshakes and air kisses.
On the edge of the shadows, Helix pulled up the collar of his jacket and glanced over his shoulder. Dominion over the patch had been won in a battle that was as brief as it was brutal. Ten feet back, between two bins, the glassy-eyed weed monger stared into the distance, his defeated face fixed in place by a glowing blue halo-cuff. Propping himself in the arch, Helix scanned the street. The pounding beat of music, somewhere between house and trance, leaked from the windows and double doors of the club opposite. Hopeful patrons were penned behind crimson ropes. Dressed for summer, they shivered and shook, hoping to catch a sympathetic eye of the robotic doormen who regulated the ebb and flow.
Helix edged deeper into the shadows as a heavy limousine drew to a halt at the curb in front of the club. The doormen took position, each with a hand on the heavy brass handles of the entrance doors. A faint movement of the limousine’s suspension was followed by the door opening. The tailored suit, haircut and demeanour of the man who emerged told Helix everything he needed to know. The minder scanned the street, the windows opposite, the queue of hopeful patrons and the two men minding the doors. He nodded to them, leaned down to the cabin and held his hand out. His underdressed client emerged into the cold. She teetered forward on her too-high heels, carried on a wave of whispers from those hopeful of joining her. A second heavy greeted her at the door and ushered her inside.
‘Game on,’ Helix said, watching the minder return to the limo. ‘Do you have control?’
‘Affirmative,’ Sofi replied.
The limo moved off. Helix merged into the flow of pedestrians heading in the same direction. Autonomous vehicles had done nothing to purge the problem of traffic congestion along London’s narrower streets. Helix moderated his pace, maintaining his distance as the limo lumbered into a side street and parked. Anyone assigned to security detail had their own ways of beating the boredom of waiting. Some slept, some read or found other ways to pass the time. Pretending to study the menu outside a restaurant, Helix didn’t have to wait long to discover the minder’s favourite distraction. In the restaurant window’s reflection, he watched a woman with long legs and a short skirt enter the side road and saunter up to the limo. Skipping between puddles she cursed, pulling her fake fur jacket tighter around herself. The limo door opened. A brief conversation ensued. She nodded, tossed her cigarette away and climbed aboard. Helix rubbed his chin. ‘Could have done without that,’ he said.
‘I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ Sofi replied.
Helix weaved his way across the two lanes of slow-moving traffic. Apart from the limo and a couple of street cleaning rovers, the side street was empty. He unzipped his jacket, pulled one of his P226s. With the gun hanging loosely at his side he strode up to the parked vehicle. Observing his progress, Sofi timed the opening of the door to perfection. Inside, the minder was man-spreading, his new friend on her knees between his legs, her face in his lap. The woman shrieked as Helix ducked into the cabin, taking the seat opposite. The door slid shut.
Peering down the barrel of the gun, the minder raised his hands. ‘Who the fu—’
‘Quiet,’ Helix snapped. ‘Zip yourself up.’ He nudged the terrified woman with his foot. ‘You. Get on the seat next to him.’
She complied, tugging at the hem of her skirt.
‘Permit?’ Helix said, his hand held out.
Pulling a small handbag from behind her, she poked around inside and handed over a card.
‘Jasmin?’ Helix said, matching the image on the card with the person sitting opposite.
‘It’s my stage name,’ she replied. ‘I’m an—’
‘I’m not interested in your day job.’ He flipped the card and tapped it on the scanner in his jacket sleeve. ‘Oh dear. You’re past your sell by date, Jasminge.’
‘It’s Jasmin, funny man, and there must be some kind of mistake.’
‘Nope. No mistake. You’re three weeks past your health check and vaccinations.’ He smiled. ‘Hope yours are up to date, fella,’ he added, looking at the minder. ‘OK. So, this is all a bit awkward.’
‘Is there anything I can do to make the problem go away?’ She pouted, leaning forward.
‘Hmm. Tempting, but no.’ He handed the card back. ‘And bribing an officer is also an offense.’
‘I wasn’t offering you money,’ she said.
‘Assault with a diseased weapon is also an offence.’ He s
ighed. ‘But it looks like it’s your lucky night. Technically, I should call a meat wagon and have you carted off for processing, but I’ve got better things to do.’ He opened the door. ‘You can go.’
She wriggled to the edge of the seat.
Helix caught her arm. ‘You were never here and you’ve never seen me. Understood?’
She nodded.
He gritted his teeth. ‘Good. Because you don’t ever want to cross my path again.’ He released her arm. ‘Do I make myself clear?’
She nodded again and made for the door.
‘Wait,’ Helix said.
She looked back over her shoulder.
‘Has he paid you?’
She slid back up onto the seat. ‘It’s normally cash on delivery.’ She flicked her eyebrows.
‘He won’t be delivering anything.’ Helix nodded at the minder. ‘Cough up.’
The minder slid the sleeve over his wrist band. Jasmin leaned over and touched hers against his. A faint beep confirmed the transaction.
She turned to Helix. ‘Thanks.’
With the door closed, Helix leaned back in the seat, the gun trained on the minder.
Lowering his hands into his lap, the minder spoke. ‘I know you. You’re Nath—’ He stiffened, blinked and looked down at the two red patches spreading through the cotton of his white shirt. He ran his fingers shakily over the blood and slumped forward.
Helix caught him by the shoulders and shoved him back into the seat. He holstered his gun and checked the time. ‘Phase two complete.’
33
12 Hours
Waterloo was alive with pedestrians, disguising the fact that it was close to midnight. The single surviving demand of city life seemed to be how to spend your time and the Government’s money. The day of the week was irrelevant; every night was Friday night or Saturday night, every hour was happy hour. Most of the populace hadn’t got a clue what time or day it was, much less care.
