“Who is this? Please identify yourself and state your business.”
“I am Sergei Rouschek. Who is asking?”
“What the fuck do you want?” Kenny’s voice was hard and challenging.
“That was not the person who spoke before. I wish to speak to him.”
Jason held up his hand for Kenny to remain silent.
“My name is Oliver Wangari. The other person you heard is Kenny Morrison. Tell us what you want.”
“Just to talk. I’d like to know what it’s like on there, how you are all getting along together. Things like that.”
“Why?”
“Like to hear. We have some Russian people would benefit from your type of holiday.”
“Fuck off, you snide bastard!” Kenny shouted. Jason held up his hand again.
“What my friend means,” Jason said, “is that we are not here for our benefit, so we don’t appreciate your comments.”
“Okay, let me say then we have many million Russian people would benefit from other Russian people being in your place.”
“Are you a reporter?”
“Would you like I was?”
“We wouldn’t give a fuck!” Kenny shouted again. “But if you’re calling just to take the piss…”
“How did you find this frequency?” Jason interrupted.
“Just by chance.”
“I don’t believe you. Where are you?”
“That’s good thing about talking on the radio, Oliver? You can be anywhere.”
Fast-running footsteps sounded in the corridor outside the room. A gangly youth, with eyes wide and shining, and breathing heavily from his sprint, appeared in the doorway.
“You should get back there. She’s stripped off. Great tits. Come on!”
*
Mike’s voice seemed to be amplified by the darkness around them.
“Four people including target still in radio room. Suggest move along to south hatch.”
“Copy that.” Kade thought for a few moments before continuing. “How many people in the actual corridor above us right now?”
“None, Section C corridor empty; just four in radio room.”
More silence. “Am opening east hatch above us before proceeding to south hatch. This will be our best point of egress.”
Mike hesitated. “In which case, ensure south hatch is closed immediately after access. You can’t leave two hatches open.” Another pause. “Apologies for stating the obvious.”
Kade gave a little laugh. “No apology needed, Archer-One. You are correct and we will comply. Stay connected.”
Kade and Jules switched on their torches, directing the beams onto the hatch above them. “Right, Commander, open and secure.”
Jules stepped on to the ladder, extracted the bolt and pushed open the hatch just enough to attach the wedge.
“Archer-One. Wedge in place. Any movement in Section C.”
“None; still empty.”
“Okay. Proceeding to south hatch. Out.” He turned to his companions. “Right. Let’s test these sensors.”
He led the way and within a few yards a strip light high on the left side wall flickered into life illuminating the first part of their route. The ceiling was around two metres high and clear of any pipes and cables, all of which ran along the walls. Even so, it was low enough to make them instinctively stoop as they made their way. More lights came on as they moved forward so the whole length of the sub-floor was bathed in a pale yellow glow by the time they reached the south hatch.
*
Jason’s instincts were telling him that something else was happening other than the two seemingly unconnected but coincidental intrusions on their routine. A pole-dancing stripper keeping everyone occupied on one side of the platform; someone holding him in a seemingly pointless dialogue while this was going on. The Russian appeared to have no objective other than to perpetuate the conversation; to keep him talking.
“Hey, what?” Kenny started as Jason flicked off the transmission switch and clicked on an icon on the computer screen next to the receiver, cutting off radio contact in mid sentence.
“Let’s try somewhere else,” Jason said.
A column of numbers representing working frequencies appeared on the monitor, rising from the bottom of the screen and highlighted in turn as the system checked each for five seconds for any current activity. Jason kept his eyes on the moving set of figures, interrupting the trawl a few times when a transmission was heard, until he found something which struck a chord.
“Arrived at south hatch. Awaiting information on position of target and others.”
“Target still in place with same three others.”
Then a familiar accented voice. “Archer-Two to Archer-One. Lost contact with target.”
“Copy, but confirm target still in place.”
Kenny screwed up his face in a frown.
“What does that mean, Oll? What the fuck’s going on?”
“Let’s try to find out.” Jason’s voice betrayed his feeling of unease. He turned to Razor. “Go and get as many back here as you can tear away from the cabaret. Tell them something really big is going down.”
Razor set off at a run. There was half a minute’s silence before the last voice on the radio spoke again.
“One person has left, heading for west side along Section B. Three only now in radio room, including target.”
“Do you have names for the other two?” Kade.
A brief pause. “Kenny Morrison; Ross Kowalski.”
“Thank you, Archer-One. Watch closely from now. Going up. Out.”
The three men looked at each other wide-eyed. Jason broke the tense silence.
“What did he say – ‘the other two’? If you’re ‘the other two’, then that means I’m the target. Shit, what the fuck do they want?”
He checked the frequency – 156.400 megahertz. He locked on to it and waited.
*
A similar vertical ladder bridged the gap between the floor and the south hatch. Kade, Tom and Rico unslung their Hecklers as Jules climbed it and gripped the bolt. This time he pulled it back in a slow motion, producing no noise, opening the hatch only a fraction, just enough to attach the wedge. He eased it back down again to check it didn’t close then stepped down the ladder to the floor and slipped off his own SMG.
“Okay,” Kade said, speaking quickly. “Just three guys. We’ll try to do this without them seeing who you are, Colonel. So stay outside the room; near the hatch, ready to close it if we have company or if we call you in. If we can get back down the same way, we can close the east hatch as we leave. Okay, all?”
“Okay.” All replied.
Kade darted up the ladder and through the hatch, the others following and crouching down round the opening to take in the scene. From where they emerged they could see along two sides of the corridor. Ahead of them was Section C, running 160 yards to where they could make out a small irregularity in the floor, which was the hatch they had opened and secured at the top of east column. The radio room, according to Mike’s directions, was about a fifth of the way along on the left.
At right-angles to Section C, running the same length to their left, was Section B, which formed the base of the squared-off horseshoe and the way to Section A on the west side where the majority of the Exiles on that level were watching Lydia’s performance. They could make out the whoops of delight; the shrieks of appreciation and raw excitement.
The four men paused before Kade led the sprint for the radio room. Tom stayed crouched near the hatch just round the corner from Section B and out of sight of anyone who might return from the show.
*
Through the glass-panelled walls, Jason, Kenny and Roscoe saw the men approaching well before they reached the radio
room. They looked round the room for anything resembling a weapon. Kenny picked up one of the computer chairs, holding it up like a shield in front of him, its four castors aimed towards the door. Jason and Roscoe followed his example. As the three men in assault gear burst into the room, they charged at them, line abreast, yelling loudly.
Kade moved quickly to his left and Jules to the right, splitting the point of attack and deflecting the impetus the charge. Grasping the guns tightly in one hand, they reached forward with the other to grab the cross-pieces which held the castors. Rico missed and took a hard blow to the head from Kenny’s. He went down, rolling to avoid the follow-up kick from his attacker and continuing his roll, clamping Kenny’s legs with his own and taking him down as well. The other two managed to parry the attack, each clutching hold of the chair with their free hand and forcing their assailants back, Kade punch-kicked Roscoe, karate-style, high on his thigh causing him to release his grip on the chair enough for Kade to wrench it from his grasp. He hurled it aside and raised the Heckler.
“Stop – now!” Kade’s voice filled the room, the barrel of his gun under Roscoe’s chin forcing his head back.
Jason looked across at them, letting go of his chair, and Jules pressed his Heckler hard against his chest. Rico had Kenny pinned face-down, his forearm pressed against the back of his neck. He got up, pulling Kenny to his feet.
There was silence for a few seconds, all breathless from the action.
“Jason Midanda,” Kade said, “you’re coming with us.”
“What the fuck’s going on?” Kenny shouted. “There’s no-one here called…”
“Do you want to tell him?” Kade looked at Jason.
“My name is Oliver Wangari. You’ve got the wrong man.”
Kade smiled. “Okay, I’ll tell them.”
The next voice echoed around the room and into the team’s ear pieces, creating a weird stereo effect. “Large number of inmates making their way from Section A; twenty to thirty, more starting to follow.”
The six men turned to look at the receiver on the long table next to the wall. Kade turned back to Jason with a smile.
“You’re even better than we thought, Mr Midanda.”
*
Tom heard the message from Mike over the radio at the same time he became aware of the sound of running feet a long way off. He sneaked a glance around the corner. At the far end of Section B, a crowd of people were running towards him, filling the whole width of the corridor. He removed the wedge from the hatch and let it fall, irreversibly, into place. Along the corridor, Kade stepped out of the radio room.
“How far away, Colonel?”
“Twenty seconds, max.”
“Time to show your face. All under control here.”
Tom watched him duck back inside then stepped out to face the oncoming horde.
*
Kade waved the Heckler towards the door.
“Move, Jason. Now!”
“My name is Oliver Wangari. Whatever you want, you’ve got the wrong person.”
“That’s right,” Kenny said. “He’s…”
“Jason Midanda.” Kade said. He turned to Jason. “Are you coming with us or would you rather stay behind and explain to Kenny and Ross – and the rest – why they changed your name?”
“You’re wrong!” Jason didn’t flinch.
“They changed his name because he is the boyfriend of Katey Tomlinson-Brown, whose father is the guy who put you here – Tom Brown, former Home Secretary. Understandably, they didn’t want any of you to know that. Right, Jason?”
“I am Oliver Wangari.”
“Twenty eight inmates approaching corner of Sections B and C.” The disembodied voice again, this time tinged with anxiety.
They could hear shouting now and, suddenly, a burst of gunfire. Kade raised the Heckler to his shoulder and took aim at Jason’s head. “You can die now or later when they beat you to death – or you can come with us. Now fucking move!”
Jason didn’t move. Kenny spoke without looking at him.
“Is that true about Tom Brown, Jason?”
“No, of course it’s not.”
There was a moment’s silence as Jason realised his mistake. He looked wide-eyed at Kenny and Roscoe. “Makes no difference. I’m one of you now.”
The expressions on their faces told him otherwise.
Jason glanced across at Kade. “Okay, I’ll go,” he said, heading towards the door.
Kade spoke into his radio. “Team to Archer-One; freeze the signal.”
*
Ahead of Tom, halfway along the corridor, the crowd were scrambling to their feet, looking around and behind them in bewilderment, their reflections in the glass walls at either side making the whole scene a confused mass of bodies. They started forward again. Beyond them, Tom could see more appearing from the west side, running to join the others.
Kade appeared at his shoulder. Tom glanced to his right to see Jason and Rico running for the east hatch. Jules was standing in the doorway of the radio room, his Heckler held waist-high, covering Kenny and Roscoe.
“Stop where you are!” Kade yelled at the advancing group. “We are not here to hurt anyone. We have what we came for and we are leaving.”
The ones at the front stopped at the appearance of the second man and the shouted command, allowing those behind to catch them up, swelling the numbers and forming a solid wall of people, pressed together across the width of the corridor. Then they began to creep forward again, around fifty of them now, silently and in slow motion, behaving like a single entity, seemingly with one mind, like a scene from a zombie movie. They were no more than fifteen yards away.
“Okay!” Kade shouted. “Straight through them this time!”
They aimed directly at the crowd. Those in the front stopped; some raised their arms, eyes wide now with horrified anticipation; others dropped to the floor or flattened themselves against the walls, scrambling and falling over each other, even before the Hecklers thundered and echoed along the corridor.
Kade turned to Tom. “Okay, go!”
They set off towards the east hatch with Jules ahead of them and Kade removing the Glock from his jacket as they ran. At the radio room, Kade stopped, aiming carefully through the doorway and loosing off an extended burst. The transmitter disintegrated in a spectacular eruption of sparks and flying metal as Kenny and Roscoe dropped to their knees and covered their heads.
Twenty seconds later they reached the hatch, with a hundred feet pounding along the corridor behind them. By that time, Jason and Rico were already through and Jules was lowering himself onto the ladder. Kade was ahead of Tom. He turned as they reached the opening and handed Tom the Glock.
“Take this and hold them off while I get the wedge.” Tom spun round to face the charge as Kade dropped down through the hatchway. He held out both guns towards the advancing crowd, loosing off a burst from the Heckler again.
“Stop there! Don’t make me shoot anyone! We are leaving…”
Tom heard the sound of the hatch closing behind him.
*
Mags’s mobile trilled on the side table in the family lounge next to the armchair where she was trying her best to read a magazine. She checked the caller’s name and the time on the display. John M; 14.45.
“Hi, John. Any news?”
“None I’m afraid, Maggie. DI Waters and one of his team are up there right now but the local guys had done a really thorough job already, so nothing new. Just a question to you, though. You and Tom stayed up there earlier this year, didn’t you? Out in the wilds.”
“That’s right. Farcuillin Lodge on Knoydart.” Mags choked a little on the words.
“Right. Well they checked it out today to see if that’s where he might be – though I understand it’s a long way from Ullapool. Any
way, he’s not there but I just wondered if you thought there was any chance that’s where he might be heading.”
“It’s possible I suppose. He could certainly get in. The lock’s on a keypad, and he knows the combination. Not that you need to lock your door up there because there’s no way to the lodge except by chopper or a twenty mile walk through the mountains. So just possible, but very unlikely.”
“Okay. We’ll keep watching anyway. It’s just hard to know where he could be hiding up there. And why up there? That’s what I don’t understand.”
Mags didn’t reply.
“Maggie, are you still there?”
“Listen, John. There’s something I should perhaps have told you last Thursday when you were here. About why he might be up there. Although this is even more unlikely than him walking to Knoydart.”
*
Tom had his back against the end wall when he heard the faint sound of the bolt being retracted. The fifty or so inmates were crowded within a few yards of him, some staring at him with puzzled and increasingly hostile looks, but most with their eyes fixed on the floor where the hatch had closed. Suddenly, with a metallic squeak, it opened again, slightly, towards where he was standing. Kade’s eyes glinted through the gap. Tom raised both guns, aiming into the group, and squeezed the trigger on the Heckler, hoping it still had some credibility as a weapon.
Kade swung the hatch up as far as it would go and leaned round it to face the crowd, firing at them with his own weapon. The Exiles dropped back instinctively, wheeling away to the sides of the corridor, but this time no-one dropped to the floor.
Tom grabbed the rim of the hatchback and Kade dropped down to the sub-floor, freeing the ladder for Tom to slip through the opening. He swung the hatch back over and grabbed the handle on the underside to close it as fingers from above wrapped around the edge, trying to pull it open; angry voices shouted, hurling abuse and obscenities at them. Tom let his legs swing free, giving all his weight to the task. For a long moment the hatch was suspended in dynamic equilibrium as more fingers gripped and pulled on the rim before Kade climbed past Tom to club at the restraining hands with the stock of his gun. There were yells – of pain this time – and more screamed obscenities as the hatch fell shut, the bolt springing back into position.
Lost Souls Page 39
