by Guy Adams
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: TRAVEL PLANS
a) Sampson Court, King’s Cross, London
I pressed the doorbell at number sixty-three, and paced up and down waiting for it to be answered.
‘Oh, it’s you …’ It was Jamie. ‘How unexpected and slightly annoying – I’m on the last few pages of Death Comes as the End and it’s all working out rather well.’
I pushed Gavrill inside.
‘How charming,’ Jamie shouted over his shoulder. ‘Alasdair, have you been ordering old men online again?’
‘He’s a neighbour of yours and he has something to discuss with you.’ I looked at Gavrill. ‘Tell him what you just told me.’
The old Russian squirmed. ‘I do not make a habit of discussing state secrets with strangers.’
‘I’m not asking you to make a habit of it. Just tell him about Krishnin.’
‘Should I put the kettle on?’ Jamie asked.
‘Just pay attention.’
Jamie sighed, ushered us through into his lounge and turned off the radio. Lauren Laverne was cut off halfway through extolling the virtues of the latest bright young thing to pick up a guitar and sing about heartbreak.
‘Krishnin was a traveller,’ said Gavrill. ‘He could step out of our plane of existence and into a higher one.’
‘Him and me both,’ said Jamie. He looked to me. ‘Are you trying to get some social club started?’
‘Krishnin had a special skill, though,’ Gavrill continued. ‘Not only could he travel in that other plane mentally, he could pass physically into it. He could step out of our world completely and into the other.’
‘That’s not possible,’ Jamie declared. ‘People are uncertain how to even define the other plane, but most agree on one thing: it’s theoretical not physical. It’s head space, a concept, not a solid geographical location.’
‘You are wrong,’ said Gavrill. ‘It’s both – a region of the mind that exists as a real, solid place. But you are right that Krishnin should not be able to go there. It is the ability to do so that made him the creature he is.’
‘You’ve been there,’ Jamie said to me. ‘You’ve seen what it’s like. A hollow nightmare of a place, outside the physical laws we’re used to. Locations shift, time isn’t a constant … It just isn’t possible – a person can’t physically go there …’
‘It was that skill that made him so precious to my government back then,’ Gavrill continued. ‘Think of it: a perfect spy or assassin, able to step in or out of our world as he chose. You want to plant a bomb at the heart of your enemy’s stronghold? Fine. He will carry it there, place it where needed and then vanish once more.’
‘He can carry other physical objects with him?’
Gavrill nodded. ‘Of course, although in actuality, it wasn’t as simple as that. If we had been able to control such a man, we would have been unstoppable.
‘However, the act of passing between the planes had a great effect on him – it exhausted him. He had to rest between the transitions. More importantly, time is not synchronised between the two planes. There was no way of guaranteeing when he would arrive back in our world once he had left it. His skills looked good on paper, but they didn’t work on a practical level. Still, the potential was there and he was the darling of the Service because of it.’
‘But it affected his mind,’ I prompted.
‘Yes. The other plane, whatever it is, does not like intruders. It tries to repel foreign matter, like a body expelling a bullet. It altered him, twisted him. By the time I met him I’m not entirely sure he was fit for either world. Eventually, as you know, he proved too unreliable and there was no other choice but to have him removed.’
‘Except someone saved you the job.’
‘They did.’
‘Or rather didn’t, as has now been proved by the fact that Krishnin is alive and well and has snatched the old man from beneath my very nose.’
‘Tim’s in trouble?’ asked Jamie.
‘He is, and he needs you to help him.’
Alasdair appeared in the doorway. ‘Oh God, spies again? We must have a word with the council; they can’t keep cluttering up the place.’ With this he promptly retreated.
‘Of course I’m happy to help,’ said Jamie, ignoring Alasdair’s interruption. ‘What do you need me to do?’
‘Where Krishnin’s gone, we need to follow.’
b) Section 37, Wood Green, London
Back at the office and trying not to take out my frustration on the soft furnishings, I was descended on by April. It felt like the last straw on my particularly over-burdened and aching back, but she managed to calm me down.
‘Sit down or I’ll slap you,’ were her words.
I told her everything I’d discovered from Gavrill and filled her in on my plan for Jamie and I to follow Krishnin. She took it all in her stride – was there anything that could ruffle this woman’s feathers? She sat and listened, filling the office with the smoke from endless menthol cigarettes.
‘And you’re still here because … ?’
‘Jamie won’t go right away. He says he needs time to prepare. Which I think means get drunk. Or catch up on The Archers, I really don’t know, but it’s driving me up the wall.’
‘You say that time between this plane and the other doesn’t run in parallel?’
‘Normally, though it’s certainly parallel enough for the countdown to be working. Maybe the radio signal is holding the two in sync? Oh I don’t know … Still, I can’t force him, can I? It does make sense to be refreshed and we have until the 31st. I just can’t reconcile delay with the fact that Shining’s trapped in that place and the clock is ticking.’
‘Understandable, but I suppose you have little choice bar holding a gun to the boy’s head.’
‘Precisely.’
‘And what’s Gavrill doing in the meantime?’
‘Talking endlessly to Moscow, I imagine, preparing a cover story for use when this all blows up in our faces.’
She smiled. ‘Glad to see you’re feeling positive.’
‘Oh for God’s sake, how can I? I thought I was managing, you know? Keeping pace with the weirdness, accepting what was going on and dealing with it the best I could. But now I’ve stopped. The adrenaline is running out and I can’t even begin to get my head around the absurdity of everything.’
‘Oh, it’s all mad, certainly. August’s life always is. I don’t know how he manages. I suppose he’s been doing this so long it’s become second nature. I joke with him, of course, as the one person who knows as much about this section and its cases as he does, but it’s beyond me too. I just let it wash over me. Because I can. Because it’s not my problem. So I do sympathise.’
‘I just …’ I leaned back on the sofa, resting my head and closing my eyes, trying to find a sense of calm. ‘Your brother acted as if I was more than capable of handling all this and, to be honest, that was lovely. That was a first. My career has not been exactly plain-sailing. I’ve made a few mistakes and—’ Was I going to tell her this? Yes. I rather think I was. ‘I’ve been suffering from panic attacks for a few years. They’re not too bad. Nothing compared to some people, certainly. I manage. But August doesn’t really know me. He thinks I’m stronger than I am and right now he’s depending on me and … I can’t share his sense of faith. I am not the man he thinks I am.’
‘I dare say you’re not the man you think you are, either,’ April said. ‘Seems to me the only real problem you have is one of self-doubt. Well, that and a truly disastrous dress-sense, but that’s hardly life-threatening.’
‘What’s wrong with my dress-sense?’
‘We were discussing your sense of self-doubt.’
‘Fuck that! I want to know what your problem is with my suit.’
‘Nothing at all. I’m sure it was excellent value and it’s lovely that you like to donate to charity.’
‘It wasn’t second-hand!’
‘Oh, I was wondering why such a thing would have been bought t
wice. A catalogue then?’
‘This from the woman who looks like a cake stand in a self-indulgent French patisserie.’
‘Good enough to eat, certainly. Now, have we stopped fretting about ourselves quite so much? I’m not terribly good at counselling.’
I smiled at her and shook my head. ‘Terrible woman. God knows how your brother stands it.’
‘I am his rock.’ She stubbed her cigarette out on the damp wood of the windowsill, improving the look of it considerably.
My phone rang and with it came the sudden realisation that I had forgotten something … someone.
‘Derek?’
‘Charles. Look, I’m in a bit of a panic. Has that girl come back to you? She said she was a friend of yours and Leslie’s. Only … it’s my fault. I’ve been so caught up in what I was doing. You know what it’s like: the repairs were a nightmare and I lost track of time and—’
‘Derek, calm down and tell me what’s happened.’
‘She was upstairs, just looking around. I wasn’t really worried. I just … well, I kind of forgot about her.’
That made me angry because I had forgotten her too, being so caught up in everything else.
‘I just finished,’ he continued, ‘and realised I hadn’t heard her for a while so I went to look and … well, there’s no sign of her. She’s nowhere in the building. I thought she might have come back to you?’
‘She’s not here.’
‘Oh God … you don’t think … like with Leslie …?’
‘It’s my problem, not yours. Just get out of there for now and I’ll meet you tomorrow morning. Can you do that?’
‘Of course, but I should look for her, she must still be …’
‘Listen, Derek, I need you just to get out of there. OK?’ I wasn’t about to risk the same thing happening to him. ‘I’ll meet you first thing, say six o’clock, outside the cafe where we saw you today. I’ll handle this.’ I hung up on him. I could explain properly the next day and the more back-up I had the better. In my panic at the moment August disappeared, I had insisted Derek get his machine functioning again. As time had passed I now realised it had been unnecessary: August hadn’t vanished into another time; he’d been snatched by a man who was very much a problem in the present. Both Derek and Tamar had been placed in a vulnerable position for nothing. I really needed to focus before I risked the safety of anyone else.
‘It’s Tamar,’ I said to April, the words uncomfortable in my mouth. ‘She’s vanished too.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: GONE
I tried to call Tamar but there was no answer. I hadn’t expected there to be, but I would have been an idiot not to try.
We had now lost two of our people. I tried not to let that trigger The Fear. Objectively the mission hadn’t changed. I would get both of them back. Hopefully.
April and I took our leave of the office. She agreed to use her connections to get things moving here in case I failed – a possibility I had to accept. If our plan to find Krishnin and sabotage the signal didn’t work, then there needed to be back-up, someone to prepare people for what was coming.
I went back to my flat to eat and sleep, to recharge my batteries.
I even called my father, God knows why. Perhaps because I felt I needed even more of an emotional kicking. The call went straight through to his answer phone. I couldn’t be bothered to leave a message.
I spent the night on the sofa. Turning everything over in my head, trying to find some sense. Maybe even a logical answer to everything, something that would prove that all of this was just delusional, that there was a sane explanation.
I gave up at about three in the morning. Sometimes you just have to look the crazy in the eyes and get on with it.
I showered and changed then left the apartment at about five.
By the time I made it to Tower Bridge, the sun was coming up over the water. I took a moment to stop and stare. Just to soak a little of it up. After all, I might not get the chance again.
I had opened the app on my phone on the way over, listening to that repetitive voice for a few minutes before shutting it off again. To hell with countdowns; they didn’t help. I had about thirty-six hours to deal with Krishnin. Either I would manage it or I wouldn’t. Time had little to do with it. I could only hope it might be enough for April to do something constructive if I failed. Though what I couldn’t begin to guess. What could anyone do? Put an armed guard on every graveyard in the country?
I pushed the thought away. For now that was her problem. My job was to make sure nothing like that would be necessary.
I walked down to the waterfront and along the river, allowing the time to make myself as calm as possible. I should have been exhausted from the lack of sleep, but I was still wired. If I was lucky enough to get through what lay ahead, I would no doubt come crashing down. For now, it was all I could do to swallow the nervous energy and hope to use it constructively.
Jamie was seated on a bench on the promenade, Derek pacing nervously up and down next to him.
‘I’m finally getting to meet all the gang,’ said Jamie as I joined them, his voice slightly slurred. ‘Thanks for that. Maybe we can even have a Christmas party this year. Providing we’re not all horribly dead.’
He took a long draught from a takeaway coffee mug and smiled blearily at me.
Derek pulled me to one side. ‘I don’t mean to worry you,’ he said, in that way people have when they mean to do exactly that, ‘but the lad is steamed. I mean, utterly off his head. Whatever’s in that cup, it isn’t a bloody latte.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I said, ‘it’s all part of the plan.’
‘Alasdair wouldn’t come,’ said Jamie, taking another drink. ‘I did try to convince him he ought to, seeing as I might never come back, but he didn’t come in from clubbing until two hours ago and he fell asleep in the bath. He thinks he’s making a statement. As far as I can tell the statement is: “I can’t handle how amazing my boyfriend is, so I fall asleep in bathtubs”.’
‘He worries for you,’ I said.
‘How sweet. I’ll tell him you said that once I’ve got home and prized the loofah off his cheek.’
‘Are we ready?’
‘What do you think?’ He took another drink.
‘I’d say so.’ I turned to Derek. ‘OK, is your van nearby?’
‘Just around the corner.’
‘We need to go there.’
I helped Jamie walk the short distance, trying not to panic about the fact that he seemed to find paving stones both hilariously funny and impossibly hard to walk on.
‘I’ll have to shift it soon,’ Derek said once we’d arrived. ‘I don’t want to get a ticket.’
‘That should be fine. Jamie …’ I shook him, trying to get his attention, ‘does it matter if Derek moves our bodies?’
‘Nah,’ he shook his head, ‘we’ll always come back to them. If we can.’
That was as good as I could hope for under the current circumstances. I tried to explain to Derek what it was we were about to do. Needless to say he took some convincing, but his panic over Shining and Tamar had made him was willing to just do as he was told.
‘I need you to keep our bodies safe,’ I said. ‘That’s your job, OK? We’re going to lie down in the back of the van and then we’ll be out of it, dead to the world.’
‘Not the best choice of words,’ said Jamie, trying to open the van’s back door.
‘You need to make sure the bodies aren’t interfered with –’ I continued, slapping Jamie’s hand away from the handle ‘– that they are left in peace and are safe for us to return to.’
‘Fine, I’ll watch you like a hawk.’
‘I don’t know how long we’ll be gone,’ I explained. ‘Jamie tells me time moves differently over there, so what feels like minutes for us could be hours to you – I really don’t know. To be honest I’ve barely got my head around it myself. Just don’t worry and keep us safe.’
‘You can rely on me.’
‘It’s like sixth form all over again,’ Jamie chuckled, clambering in, ‘getting up to no good in the back of a Transit.’
‘Just shut up and do whatever it is you do.’
He lay down, put his drink next to him and took my hand.
‘Takes a minute,’ he explained. ‘I just need to …’
He drifted off. I closed my eyes.
The morning was quiet but I could still hear the distant sound of traffic, the way our breathing echoed inside the confined space of the van.
‘How do you know if it’s working?’ Derek asked.
I was about to tell him to shut up when I felt myself sink away.
When I was a kid I broke my arm. I was stupid: playing on a rope swing with some mates from school. We’d built a large bed of leaves and the challenge was to see who could swing the highest and land on them. I won. Later, in hospital, lying on the gurney after the anaesthetist had put a cannula in the back of my hand, I listened as she told me to count back from ten. I would be unconscious before I finished, she assured me. She opened the valve and I began to count. I could feel the liquid rising through my arm, a heat that emanated from the back of my hand soaring upwards. I’ll be asleep by the time it reaches my head, I thought. It reached my biceps and I switched off. Blank. Gone without even being aware of it.
This was just like that.
Then I was aware again. Surrounded by silence. The floor of the van beneath me felt distant, as if I had been lying on it so long that my nerves had gone dead. The only thing that felt real was the touch of Jamie’s hand in mine. The only true sensation. The anchor. The lifeline.
I opened my eyes.
SUPPLEMENTARY FILE: BERLIN, 1961
Olag Krishnin made his way across Alexanderplatz, his mind filled with the future. He had always been a dreamer. A man born to change things. His father had always said as much, right up until the NKVD put a bullet in his head for sedition. Krishnin had learned from that. To foster great ideas was only natural, but you kept them to yourself if you wanted to draw breath long enough to act on them.
