Blood Ransom

by Sophie McKenzie

  They refused to tell me where the copter had gone, of course, but I waited outside the heliport and when the guy’s shift was over, sometime around four p.m., I approached him, and explained it was really important I found Milo because he’d left home after an argument with our dad and now my dad was seriously ill and I was just desperate to reach my brother before our dad died so they could be reconciled in time.

  A load of bollocks, I know, but my desperate ‘brothers in crisis’ story did the trick – though probably only because I did look so incredibly like Milo.

  Eventually the guy went back inside, checked the log and told me that the copter had been heading for a place called Tromstorm in Norway.

  Yes.

  Almost as soon as I’d felt the sensation of triumph, it faded. How on earth was I going to get to some remote place in a country I knew nothing about? For a moment I strongly considered going back to the hotel and telling Rachel’s parents what I’d discovered. After all, Rachel had said she was with Milo. Surely they’d want to follow the lead?

  Maybe, but they’d still insist on sending me back to Philadelphia.

  In fact, crap . . . I checked the time. I was supposed to be on a flight bound for Philadelphia right now. Which meant that not only had I stolen Mr Smith’s money, I’d also wasted the ticket Mum had bought me.

  They would both be furious. Which settled it.

  I was on my own.

  I found an internet café and worked out my route. It wasn’t straightforward. I needed to take a bus, which I knew would be cheaper than a train, across Scotland to Aberdeen, then two ferries – one from Aberdeen to a remote island called Lerwick and from there another ferry to Bergen in Norway.

  I had no idea how I was going to get up to Tromstorm once I arrived in Norway but at least now I knew where I was going.

  79

  Rachel

  I still had no idea exactly where I was, though I knew it had to be somewhere really far north. At night it had stayed light until about eleven p.m. and the sun was always high in the sky whenever I woke, even at four or five in the morning.

  Two more long days had passed in much the same manner as the first.

  The only change was in Elijah’s mood. He was becoming increasingly irritable, liable to snap at someone just for walking past him.

  He was rude to me, and to Paul, but he saved his worst behaviour for Milo, never missing an opportunity to criticise him or put him down.

  We all avoided him as much as possible.

  On the evening of my third day, I was searching the bookshelves in the corridor between the kitchen/diner and the sun porch. If I had to be here, then I might as well find something interesting to read. Raised voices drifted up from the lake. I rushed through to the kitchen, where Milo was already staring out of the window.

  It was late – nearly eleven p.m., but still light. Paul was down by the lake, gun in one hand, radio mic in the other.

  He was pointing his weapon at a red-haired woman in a long brown coat. She was talking fast. I could only catch the occasional word . . . must speak . . . Elijah Lazio . . . important . . .

  ‘What’s going on?’ I said to Milo.

  ‘No idea,’ he said. ‘Paul caught her trying to cross the lake just now. Not that I think she was sneaking around, particularly. And that coat isn’t exactly spy wear.’

  ‘I’m going to find out what she wants,’ I said. And, before Milo could say anything, I was out of the door and racing across the sloping garden, down to the lake.

  Paul looked alarmed as I approached. ‘Go back inside,’ he ordered.

  I ignored him. Let him manhandle me back if he wanted to. There was no way he was going to hurt me; Elijah wanted me – and my blood – in good health.

  The woman in the brown coat looked at me with intense interest. She was maybe in her late twenties and strikingly beautiful – her red hair streaked with natural highlights and her eyes a bright, emerald green. She wore warm designer boots and had a large brown leather satchel looped over her shoulder.

  ‘Rachel?’ she said.

  ‘Who are you?’ I said.

  ‘Get inside, Rachel,’ Paul ordered.

  I shook my head.

  The woman smiled – a soft smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

  ‘My name’s Amanda Lennox,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you, Rachel.’

  Paul was speaking into his radio mic now – his voice low and menacing – but I kept my gaze on the woman.

  ‘Yeah?’ I said. ‘What have you heard about me?’

  ‘Well,’ Amanda Lennox said. ‘I know that you’re a clone and that Elijah Lazio created you. And I know about his current work – and how that involves you too.’ She paused, patting the leather bag.

  ‘What do you know?’ I said, my throat tightening. ‘Why are you here?’

  Amanda Lennox just smiled.

  Paul came off the radio mic and turned to the woman. ‘Elijah’s coming.’

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’ll explain everything properly when he gets here. It’s about RAGE . . . I’ve been working for them, but I’m not any more. Elijah Lazio is going to want to hear what they know about his plans.’

  80

  Theo

  It had taken me a long time to get here, but I was in Norway at last.

  I spent my first night of travelling – the second since Rachel had disappeared – on the coach to Aberdeen. I was horrified to discover when I arrived there at six the next morning that there was only one ferry a day from Aberdeen to the island of Lerwick – and it didn’t leave until five p.m.

  I bought a ticket for later and wandered off to find food, then shelter from the rain which had just started drizzling. I spent part of the morning huddled on a park bench. Well, maybe ‘park’ is a bit of an exaggeration. More like a patch of dry grass with a few bushes and a couple of trees.

  The worst part of being in the park was remembering how Rachel and I had hidden out somewhere similar – though smarter – in Washington D.C. last year. We’d had Daniel with us and I’d been hurt but somehow it had brought Rachel and me together, which was all horrible to remember because now Daniel was dead and Rachel was gone and I was on my own, shivering and imagining that I’d got it all wrong and Rachel really was with Milo after all.

  At last it was time to get the ferry, but we weren’t due to arrive in Lerwick until the following morning. I was frustrated at the amount of time that was passing – but at least I was able to spend my second night away travelling on a warm ferry instead of sleeping rough outside.

  I kept myself to myself on the ferry. My phone battery had long since died, not that there was anyone I wanted to call. There weren’t many people about to talk to either. Working guys mostly, who looked tired and who paid me no attention.

  I slept a bit and ate another burger. The next morning I had to wait again, for a ferry to Bergen in Norway. By now I was getting quite good at handling the transactions and answering any questions I got asked. I made sure that I kept my face washed and my hair slicked neatly back, so I didn’t look like some homeless person. And I still had the fake passport that Lewis had organised for me. That said I was two years older than I really was, which helped.

  I wasn’t too worried about anyone other than Mum trying to track me down. Elijah clearly had only used me to get to Rachel and, though I was sure RAGE would still love to kill me given half a chance, it seemed unlikely they were expending any resources looking for me while Elijah was still at large.

  I arrived in Bergen late in the evening of my third day’s travelling. I wandered out of the ferry terminal, suddenly filled with anxiety.

  For a start, I had hardly any money left. That was bad enough, but I was up against far more than that. I was in a country I didn’t know, where they spoke a language I didn’t understand – and I had no idea where Tromstorm was, let alone how to get to it.

  I walked down to the busy main road. Despite the fact that it was nearly midnight, the sky wasn�
��t properly dark. That was something, I supposed. Cars and lorries were roaring past. No one gave me a second glance.

  Well, I was just going to have to make them.

  It was my only option.

  I stuck out my thumb and started hitching for a ride.

  81

  Rachel

  Elijah had been interrogating Amanda Lennox for hours. He’d ordered Milo and me upstairs while they talked in the sun porch. I’d crept onto the landing but couldn’t hear anything from there and I didn’t dare go any closer, what with Paul making regular patrols round the chalet.

  One thought kept going through my head. If Amanda Lennox was connected with RAGE, did that mean the organisation knew where we were?

  In the end I gave up trying to work out what was going on and went to bed. I fell asleep surprisingly quickly, but was jolted awake by shouts about an hour later.

  I raced to the top of the stairs. Elijah and Amanda Lennox were in the kitchen area below. Elijah was holding Lennox’s brown leather shoulder bag.

  ‘You can’t keep me here,’ Amanda Lennox cried. ‘I came to help you.’

  ‘And I’m grateful for your help, Ms Lennox,’ Elijah said, ‘but I can’t possibly let you go now you know where we are. There’s too much at stake.’

  Amanda Lennox blinked rapidly. She looked totally shocked. ‘But I’m offering to destroy all the data.’

  What data? I kept my gaze on Elijah. He sounded calm, in control as usual.

  ‘You are an excellent actress, Ms Lennox,’ he said. ‘However you can’t seriously expect me to believe there are no copies?’

  I gripped the banister at the top of the stairs. Copies of what?

  ‘Why should there be copies?’ Lennox protested. ‘I’m the head of RAGE. Everyone there thinks I’m going to the police with that stuff.’ She pointed to the brown leather bag. ‘No one at RAGE suspects I’ve come here.’

  Elijah shook his head. ‘There’s a room upstairs where the guard sleeps during the day. You will stay there tonight. I’ll decide what to do with you in the morning.’

  Amanda Lennox rolled her eyes. ‘I came here in good faith and—’

  ‘Maybe.’ Elijah ran his hand through his hair. ‘Maybe you did. But you also betrayed your own organisation and tried to blackmail me with the information in this . . .’ he glanced down at the bag, ‘. . . which makes you fundamentally untrustworthy.’ He smiled. ‘And I am not a trusting man at the best of times.’

  My hands tightened round the banister. Blackmail? What was Amanda Lennox trying to blackmail Elijah over? Could it have something to do with the Eos protein?

  I had to find out.

  Elijah called Paul and told him to lock Amanda Lennox in his room. Paul obeyed without speaking. I scuttled into my room as their footsteps sounded on the stairs. Amanda Lennox protested the whole way.

  ‘This is outrageous,’ she kept saying. ‘You can’t do this.’

  I heard the door opposite mine lock, then Paul’s heavy footsteps going back down the stairs. I crept out onto the landing but by the time I could see downstairs there was no sign of either Elijah or the brown leather bag.

  I tiptoed across the landing to the locked room.

  ‘Hello?’ I whispered, crouching by the door.

  There was a short pause, then a scuffling noise.

  ‘Rachel?’ Lennox’s voice was anxious. ‘Is that you?’

  ‘Yes.’ I paused. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’m trying to help Elijah but he won’t listen.’ Lennox launched into a garbled, panicky, self-justifying explanation of her decision to betray RAGE and blackmail Elijah. ‘You have to help get me out of here. Please, help me.’

  ‘What’s in the bag you brought? You said it was data . . . information of some kind?’

  ‘Yes, it’s the data Elijah left behind on Calla,’ Amanda Lennox said quickly. ‘RAGE took samples from Elijah Lazio’s clinic and office on Calla. They found the hard drive he’d tried to destroy and managed to hack into his notes. I was tasked with taking them to the police, but I brought them here instead.’

  ‘RAGE wanted to go to the police?’ I frowned. That didn’t make sense. RAGE were usually more into blowing up Elijah’s work than exposing it.

  ‘Yes, we realised that whenever we attack Elijah Lazio he just moves on to another location. We know Lazio has some kind of government support for what he’s doing, but until now we had no idea who was involved. This time we’ve got proof of his business relationship with Don Jamieson . . . which starts a trail that should lead to the really high level collusion. Once the police arrest the corrupt bastards who’re supporting Lazio, his work will lose its funding and stop.’

  I nodded. As a strategy it made sense. In fact, it was the most sensible move I’d ever heard of RAGE making – a way of defeating Elijah without innocent people getting killed.

  And now this woman had blown everything. ‘But you were too greedy to let that happen?’ I said, filling up with anger. ‘That’s disgusting.’

  There was a short silence inside the room. Then Lennox spoke again – a desperate whisper.

  ‘I know it sounds bad, but I need the money to help my sister. She’s dying of cancer in the UK but there are treatments in the States that could save her.’ Lennox paused.

  Was that true? I hesitated, wondering what I would be prepared to do if Grace were dying. Or Theo.

  ‘Listen, Rachel,’ Lennox went on. ‘RAGE will get Elijah in the end . . . me selling him back these notes will just be a setback, and . . . and you have to help me, Rachel. Out of common humanity, if nothing else.’

  ‘I thought I wasn’t human to you,’ I shot back. ‘I thought I was just a clone.’

  ‘No, no.’ Amanda Lennox insisted. ‘No, we don’t . . . we’re not targeting clones any more . . .’

  Yeah, right. ‘Suppose RAGE realised what you were up to and followed you?’ I said, struggling to keep my voice low.

  ‘There’s no way,’ she said. ‘D’you think they’d be hanging back now if they knew where Elijah was? No, I’m alone. Please, I’m begging you, help me get out of here.’

  I stared at the locked door between us. ‘I don’t see how I could do that, even if I wanted to.’

  ‘You have to try . . . for your own sake. Please. I’ve seen Lazio’s notes . . . his files . . . there’s information about the Aphrodite Experiment . . . and the Eos protein. You’re in terrible danger.’

  My heart skipped a beat. ‘You know what Elijah’s planning to do with me?’ I said. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Only if you help me escape,’ Lennox hissed.

  I had no idea if I could trust her. Still, I needed to hear what Lennox knew about Elijah’s plans for me. Should I help her?

  Before I could make up my mind what to do, there was movement downstairs.

  Floorboards creaked and a flurry of cold air whooshed up the stairs. It was either Paul or Elijah – and I didn’t want either of them catching me here.

  A heavy footstep sounded on the bottom stair. Someone was coming.

  I scuttled into my room just as Paul reached the landing. He paused outside my door. I held my breath, as he turned the key in the lock.

  I was locked in. Oh, God.

  Tonight, sleep was never going to come.

  82

  Theo

  ‘I’m eighteen,’ I lied.

  The lorry driver tilted his head to one side.

  ‘This is dangerous for you,’ he said. ‘Even if you are eighteen.’

  ‘I know, so will you give me a lift?’

  I was on the road just outside the Bergen ferry. Finding someone prepared to take me to Tromstorm hadn’t been easy. I knew, from the other drivers who’d rejected my plea for a lift, that it was going to take several hours to get there – and the town wasn’t on any of the major roads. I’d been standing on this corner for hours now. It was bleak and cold and, though I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, I was terrified of every aspect of what I was doing . . . E
ven if I managed to find my way to wherever Elijah was holding Rachel, I had no idea how I was going to face him down and rescue her.

  The lorry driver pursed his lips. ‘If you were my son . . .’

  I looked away. I wasn’t anyone’s son. Not properly. Elijah might have called me Apollo, the son of Zeus (his own code name), but he had never been a real father to me. Anyway, he was genetically more like my twin, which made his father my dad. That was a horrific thought. An imagined image of Elijah’s Nazi parents drifted through my mind. I shook myself. I couldn’t let myself get distracted. I had to think of something to say to persuade this driver to give me a lift. I looked at him, searching for the right words. But nothing came. I could feel the desperation rising inside me.

  The lorry driver’s eyes softened.

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘I cannot take you all way to Tromstorm, but I take you closer.’

  Smiling with relief, I got into the lorry and we set off. The roads were clear and the landscape wide and flat with mountains in the distance. Bizarrely, despite the fact that I’d adjusted my watch to the local time and it was only two a.m., the sun appeared to be rising. Rolf, my lorry driver, explained.

  ‘The further north you go, the shorter the night in summer. In winter the night is very long. Only a few hours when the sun shines. Summer is much better.’

  How weird was that?

  The sun was fully up by the time Rolf dropped me off at some petrol station. I found a local map in the concourse shop and studied it hard, much to the annoyance of the shopkeeper.

  I guess I could have bought it, but I didn’t have much money left. Anyway, the map showed that I was just ten miles from Tromstorm. The main roads were clear and the route straightforward. I decided to walk it.

  As I got further north I reached higher ground and, unbelievably – seeing as this was early July – even some snow. At first it was just a sprinkling of white flecks on distant mountain tops, but pretty soon the air cooled and the snow lay thick all around me.