He longed to see Emma, to tell her how he’d changed and left his past behind him. Yes, he’d lied to her, but she’d forgive him in time, once he proved his worth, and his love. Once he had rescued her from her pain. Where was she? This had to be the route. No other made sense. He tried again to call Tom. Nothing. The phone was switched off or not connected to the network. He must be inside those tunnels where there would be no reception.
He leaned over the parapet watching the traffic below. Sirens blared in the distance, getting closer. A police car hurtled under the bridge followed by a fire engine, both heading towards the motorway. Had they seen the stinger? Not at that speed. But something was wrong. Time for a change of plan.
Chapter 75
Raise The Alarm
Ben wandered the corridors, waiting for his chance. A man emerged from the server room and headed towards the toilets, not noticing him. The door swung closed. Ben got there in time, held it open and slipped inside.
He was alone. He locked the door, chose a terminal and logged in using the name and password he had overheard. Once we was in, he consulted the IT manual stolen from his father’s briefcase. He stared at the screen, back at the book and finally found his way to the emergency controls. From here, he could lock every door in the complex. Or open them. Or set off the alarms and send the place into bedlam. Or any combination he chose. Lock some, open others, trigger warnings, make them fear an attack, and a data breach. Make them panic. Make them stare at their screens. While Ben slipped away unseen.
As the bells howled and people rushed from their dorms, from meeting rooms and offices, Ben scurried along the corridors, searching for the cells.
Chapter 76
Torture Chamber
“You don’t know when you’re beaten do you? Or when to quit causing trouble and let people be. Folks who are working hard to protect this great country.” Naylor kicked Capgras in the ribs. “Where is this dead man’s handle? Tell me how to disable it and I’ll stop hurting you.” He kneed him in the back, harder than before.
Pain exploded in Tom’s body and left him gasping for breath. He tried to crawl away, but there was nowhere to go.
Naylor knelt beside him, his face close. “I have thousands of ways to hurt you. Creative, cruel ways. Some won’t make a mark. Others that’ll leave you disfigured and crippled. What’s it to be? What kind of torture do you fear most? Physical pain? Mental torment? The loss and regret, the end of hope?” Naylor took hold of his shoulder, preparing to dislocate it. Capgras kicked out, knowing it was hopeless, but he had to resist, somehow.
Naylor laughed and pinned him to the ground. “Perhaps the eyes first, or the fingers. That’ll stop you typing up your little stories.” Naylor clenched his fist and pulled it back, ready to smash Tom in the face.
Then the alarms went off as if hell had broken open or world war three was upon them and the bombs were about to fall. Bells and clanging, screeching and wails, calling men to arms, urging them to their posts. “Shit.” Naylor spat in Tom’s face and slammed the door shut as he left.
Capgras sat on the floor, nursing bruised ribs, waiting for the pain to subside and cursing himself for getting caught. It would go badly now, for Ben and Emma both. The plan was dead, and he was stuck in here, useless and helpless with no way to warn Mark. He couldn’t even spin some lies or tell a tall tale. He was caught, imprisoned, alone and there was nothing he could do.
Chapter 77
The Labyrinth
The door to Tom’s cell clicked unlocked. He waited. No one came. He pushed it open: an empty corridor. Was it a trap? Would he be ‘shot while escaping’? The sound of running feet made him press back against the wall. Ben hurtled around the corner and skidded to a stop. “The tunnels are this way. Come on."
“Did you do all this?”
“I stole the logins."
The boy was a miracle. “Where’s your father?”
“Who cares?”
“Did anyone see you?”
“They’re busy. Let’s go."
They fled the custody suite, passed through five sets of open doors with not a guard in sight, and came to a lift with a set of stairs beside it. Up, or down?
“This way.” Ben leapt down the steps, three at a time.
“Be careful."
“Hurry up."
Tom set off after the boy, clutching the metal handrail, his feet pounding on the stone steps. The light faded as they headed away from the living areas. Soon they were in a deep gloom, heading along a corridor lit by yellow sodium lights. The tunnels grew dank the deeper they went and smelt of mould and decay. They reminded him of whisky distilleries in Scotland, a trip around vineyards in France as a boy. So long ago. Where did those memories come from?
Ahead of him Ben pushed on a door.
“How did you find this?”
“You showed me the maps."
“For a few seconds. You remembered it all?”
“Some of it. Not all."
Tom put his shoulder to it and together they forced the door open. Beyond was darkness. A blast of cold air hit them. “Guess they don’t use all of this place, not yet at any rate."
“There’s a big open space, if I remember it right,” Ben said, “there should be an opening on the far side, with a way into a tunnel."
Tom took two cautious steps. The floor seemed level, made of concrete. “Take my hand, let’s not lose each other down here.” Every footstep echoed as if they were in an immense canyon. “What was this place?” His voice reverberated around the hall. “It’s massive. Must be a storeroom.” But for what? Ammunition perhaps, from the second world war, mouldering here for decades neglected and forgotten. “Touch nothing. Stay close. Keep hold of me."
They shuffled across the open space, bumping into discarded boxes and rolls of paper. Tom’s foot hit something metal on the floor and he froze in his tracks, fearing an unexploded shell or worse. He knelt down and fumbled in the dark. “Empty fuel tank."
Ben gripped his hand harder. “Someone’s coming."
Footsteps reverberated around the chamber. A torch shone a spotlight into the hall, sweeping left and right over their heads on the first pass, close to their feet on the second.
“They haven’t seen us,” Tom whispered.
Voices mumbled in the distance then moved off.
“They know we’ve escaped,” Ben said. “They’re searching."
“But they didn’t see us, and they won’t. Keep going.” He had to be positive. Don’t let Ben realise how dangerous this might be. Or how badly he had planned the whole escape. In the darkness he sensed a looming shape. They were almost at the far side. “Where was the tunnel?”
“Half way along."
“Stay together,” Tom said. “Keep close. Follow me.” He ran his hand over the rough brick wall, hoping to find the door, or hatch, or opening. The plip plop of dripping water echoed across the hall. He shivered as the cold air worked through his clothes and under his skin, burrowing towards his bones. He tripped over a pile of bricks and almost fell, shouting out a warning to the boy.
“Hush,” Ben hissed. “They’re coming back."
Torchlight swept the room, brighter and more powerful than before. The men hadn’t given up. They’d gone looking for a better flashlight. He crouched down low against the wall and turned his face away. “Don’t look at them,” he whispered. “Your eyes will reflect the light."
The men began to move across the vast hall. They had to get out. The torchlight flashed along the wall and showed, for a split second, a doorway twenty yards away. Tom waited until the light moved off. “Nearly there,” he whispered. If they could reach the tunnel, unseen and unheard, they might be safe.
Ben stumbled and fell against him. The torch flickered towards them, searching for the sound.
“It’s only rats,” said one man.
“What do they live on, down here?”
“Don’t care. Let’s get out of here, it’s a waste of time. Boy’s probably h
iding somewhere, giving his dad a scare."
“What about the prisoner?”
“He won’t get far. There’s no way out except back up the way they’ve come. He’ll starve to death if he’s down here."
“Unless he likes eating rats."
Both men chuckled as they moved off. Tom edged along the bricks and fumbled in the dark until he found what he needed: the roughness of rust, the cold of metal. A door, but was it locked, or corroded shut for evermore? He grasped a handle and tugged. No movement. He dragged at it, using all his strength. His fingers slipped and he fell backwards. It might never budge. One more try. It had to work. There was no other way. He braced his feet, gripped hard. Pull. Nothing, then a slight movement. Pull harder. All his strength now. At last, it moved, groaned and heaved, but finally it relented and gave in with a jolt. He fell back, landing on his backside with a thud. The hatchway swung open.
Chapter 78
Inferno
Waterstone hid the shotgun and mask under a coat on the back seat, drove across the bridge and rejoined the main road, gripping the wheel until his knuckles were white, chewing his lips and muttering to himself, foot hard to the pedal. Up ahead a plume of black smoke spiralled into the air. He turned a corner and found the carriageway blocked by police cars and fire engines.
He leapt from the car and rushed past the vehicles towards the fire, raw fear pumping through his veins. A copper yelled at him to keep away but he flashed his warrant card. Sound calm, be professional. “Anything I can do to help? What’s happened here?”
“Prison van gone off the road, down the embankment. Landed on its roof and burst into flames."
Mark’s heart hammered in his chest. “They get out?”
“The guards did."
“The prisoners?”
The copper shook his head ruefully.
Mark’s throat tightened. Her face flashed across his mind’s eye, the way she smiled, how it transformed when they made love, becoming soft, carefree and young again, released from the worries of the world. He charged, legs pounding, to the top of the slope. Below him, a gaggle of firefighters were hosing down the charred remains of the prison van. He sank to his knees and yelled her name at the cold, unforgiving clouds. Why didn’t he act sooner? He should have been here to help, to stop this, to save her.
“You all right?” The uniformed copper had followed him. “You know someone in there?”
They got out, they must have. “Did any survive?”
“Door was locked when the firemen arrived. No sound from inside. Guess the fumes did for them."
“Where’s the driver? The guard?”
“Ambulance took them. Breathed in smoke, trying to rescue the prisoners."
“You get their names?”
“No. What’s this about? What are you doing here, anyway?”
He had to get clear before they became suspicious and checked his car. He forced himself to his feet and strode off, ignoring he copper’s shouts. What now? Call Tom. He jabbed at the buttons. No answer. There was never any damn answer.
They’d got to Emma, killed her. Why? They must have been told or warned. Had they found Capgras? Had he talked? Given away the plan? He’d regret it if he had. But first, deal with Shepherd and the rest. They would pay for this. He’d make sure of that. They would all pay.
Chapter 79
Council Of War
Shepherd and Naylor stood to attention in front of the computer screen. Sir Leo ranted at them across the video link, cursing their stupidity. “You’re going soft, the pair of you. It’s all that bloody boy’s fault. You’ve no business taking him into a secure facility, letting him run riot. He should have been locked up."
“It’s not Ben’s doing, I’m sure of that,” Shepherd said. “Capgras forced him into it."
“From inside a cell? How did he get out?”
“A systems malfunction,” Shepherd said. “Blame IT."
“They’re saying the boy did it."
“That’s ridiculous. He doesn’t have a login or password."
“Children are resourceful,” Sir Leo said. “Dangerously so. Don’t underestimate them. They’re both gone? How did they get past the guards?”
“They didn’t,” Naylor said. “No way they got out the front door. They’re still in the facility, hiding, unless they found another way out."
“Another way? It’s supposed to be secure."
“There’s a warren of tunnels,” Naylor said, “No one knows all of them."
“I want them closed off. And find those two. No police. Deal with this in-house. The fewer people hear of this the better."
“What then?” Naylor said.
Sir Leo paused for a moment. “Kill them."
“No,” said Shepherd, “not Ben. He’s not to blame. You promised."
“A bastard child, got upon a hippie whore. Find yourself a proper family."
“What about the dead man’s handle?” Naylor asked.
“Use the boy,” said Sir Leo. “Torture him, and Capgras will talk. Make sure you get everything. Once it’s done, dispose of them both and any evidence."
“Sir…”
“You got a problem?”
Shepherd stared at the screen. There was no way to fight this and if he tried, he’d be dumped in an unmarked grave along with Capgras and Ben. “I’ll find them. I’ll do it myself."
“You do that,” said Sir Leo. “And call me the moment you have them. Owen, stay a little longer. Something to discuss."
Shepherd left the room, closing the door carefully behind him. That was the last time he’d pretend to be meek and obedient to that damned man. Nobody would harm Ben, not while he was alive though Sir Leo and Naylor were already making plans on that front. Something to discuss? That would be his own murder.
He had to find Ben and keep him from Naylor. But how? Surveillance. He still had the loyalty of the men here. A drone would do it. Get it airborne and follow them. He strode towards the command room. “Get the systems up and running,” he shouted. “Put the long-range drones in the air. How many do we have?”
“Four sir. Where do you need them?”
“Locally. We have a prisoner on the run. He’s taken my son. I want everything devoted to finding them. Give me control from my laptop and reports on their movements on my phone every five minutes, understand?”
“Who are we looking for?”
“Tom Capgras. His details are in the logs. Ex-con. Trouble maker. No one is to approach him. I’ll handle it personally, understood? Report only to me. If Naylor comes in here, shut him out. He has no authority. Got that?”
The men looked troubled, but they agreed to it, mumbling into their coffee cups. It wouldn’t hold for long. But it might buy enough time to retrieve Ben and deal with Tom Capgras, one last time.
Chapter 80
A Skirmish
The tunnel was gloomy, dank and dangerous with a low ceiling, uneven floor and walls that dripped with water. Tom feared the roof might cave in or that a hole would open and plunge them to their deaths. His knees ached. The palms of his hands had been rubbed raw on the loose stones. The muscles in his arms howled for respite. He had to go on. The boy wasn’t complaining, so he had no right. How much further? He sensed something solid up ahead. Could it be a door? He stretched out his hand and felt hard rock blocking the tunnel. But there was no going back.
He fumbled with the stones, passing them to the boy as he toiled in the darkness. “We’re nearly there.” Tom hauled on a hunk of stone but it wouldn’t budge, so he cramped himself into a crouch position and put his shoulder to it. It seemed hopeless, and he was about to give up when finally it fell away. He collapsed to the floor. Loose stones thumped onto him. A rock smashed to the ground, missing his head by inches.
“Are you all right?” Ben yelled.
Tom groaned. The boy sounded scared. He pushed himself up. “I’m fine. Stay back.” He brushed the debris off his clothes and crawled forward. The floor levelled out, and the r
oom was high enough to stand. A faint light filtered through cracks around a hatch in the ceiling. The same hatch he had prised open from the other side. They had made it. A plan that worked. At long last.
Tom fumbled in the half-light and found a metal ladder. He pulled himself up and grasped the steel handle and eased it open. Light poured in, followed by fresh air and the smells of woodland and wet earth after rain. “Come on through, but slow and steady.” He returned to the rock fall and cleared a way for Ben, grabbing his arms and pulling him clear. “Up the ladder,” he urged.
Ben’s feet disappeared through the hatch and he let out a shriek of joy and triumph. Tom hurried after him and stretched his back, breathing deep of the fresh, clean air. They were out and in the right place. “The bike’s not far. We’ve got to keep moving.” There was no time to rest, though he was close to exhaustion and ready to curl into a ball here on the soft ground. He closed the hatch, in case it give away their escape route, then took Ben’s hand and together they ran towards the copse of trees.
The bike lay undisturbed where he left it. He fitted Ben’s helmet, adjusting it to make it safe, then put on his own and set the Norton upright. He kicked her into life and Ben leapt onto the back with arms clasped around Tom’s waist. Capgras eased the bike over the soft ground towards the stoney track. They bumped and jostled down the lane until it reached the road, where he quickly took her through the gears.
Half a mile later, he turned a corner to see a roadblock up ahead, manned by private security in casual uniform of black polo shirts. He span the bike around and sped off in the other direction. It would mean detours and having to find new routes on the fly, but worse than that, they had seen him and would call it in. The search parties would be sent out. They would be hunted now, and he needed cover. He threw the bike around a series of sharp bends and turned off the road onto a farm lane. After another quarter of a mile he turned off onto a heavily rutted track for logging vehicles. It snaked through the woods to either side heading sharply uphill. As they neared the top, he slowed the bike to a crawl. The unmade road ran close to the lip of a quarry. He steered off the path until close enough to the edge to make his skin tingle with fear. One false move and they would crash to their deaths on hard rock a hundred feet below. There was no fence and no warning signs. It would be easy to race up here and never know what killed you.
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