‘See you soon, princess,’ he whispered, and started to wriggle through the cramped, hot ceiling cavities of Pincent Pharma. Keeping his head down to stop dust getting in his eyes, he pushed himself forward with his elbows and knees, wincing every so often when something sharp dug into him or dust and other material fell into his hair, on to his back. From what he could remember, if he travelled north he should get to a security hub in a few minutes.
And once he was there . . . Once he was there, he’d be in control again. Jude knew the Pincent Pharma security system better than any other. It might have been upgraded since his last encounter with it a year or so ago, but that didn’t worry him. There was no system he couldn’t take over and now this one – his old foe, old ally – was going to help him once more.
Jude took a deep breath and forced himself forward. The passage was narrowing and dust particles were getting into his mouth, into his chest, but he struggled on. He didn’t have much time. Too much was depending on him.
Finally he felt the passage widen and saw a low light ahead. He sighed with relief and, upping his pace, squirmed towards it. Quickly he took out his trusted handheld video link device, connected it to the system hub and started to search the cameras. He flicked from image to image – the reception area, the corridors, the laboratories. It seemed spookily empty, apart from the guards who patrolled every corridor and stood outside every door. There seemed to be more guards than staff these days. A few white-coated men and women could still be seen, their faces serious as they tested, analysed and checked the white tablets in front of them. Jude noticed that a woman in one of the labs looked strange, her body bowed over the table in front of her. He zoomed in and saw that she was sweating profusely. Her hand moved to her throat. She picked up a glass of water and started to drink but then she dropped it and it smashed on the floor. Worried faces looked up; moments later, guards rushed in, their faces masked, and took her from the room. No one said a word. No one looked at anyone else. Jude felt a shiver go down his spine.
Shaking himself, he continued his search. He looked at room after room, many empty, then suddenly felt his heart quicken. Anna. Anna was here! He stared in disbelief – she was meant to be in Scotland. Peter had left her in Scotland, safe. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right at all. Trembling, he zoomed in. She was sitting silently on the floor, a baby and a small child in her arms. The baby was crying and Anna’s face was tear-stained. The child was silent, his eyes wide, afraid. Jude moved the camera to see if anyone else was in the room and as it moved Anna glanced up at it, a look of disgust on her face. Then she buried her head in her children’s hair, pulling them more tightly towards her. The door opened and a guard walked in, grabbing her roughly.
Jude watched in horror, his mind racing. How many other secrets lay buried within these walls? How many more prisoners? He continued to flick through the screens. He found Sheila and had to force himself not to linger, staring at her freckles, her red hair, her frightened yet still determined eyes. He had to focus. He didn’t have much time.
He gasped. The screen showed a room full of children, then another and another, more and more. Jude moved between the images, his eyes widening. He’d never seen so many children together. There were hundreds of them – ten, twenty to a room – holding each other for comfort, makeshift sanitation in one corner of each room and a bucket of what appeared to be food in the other. Like a farm, Jude thought with a thud. But farms had a purpose. What use would these children be? What sinister plan did Richard Pincent have for them? Jude narrowed his eyes. Whatever the plan, it would be abandoned. He would see to that. His hand moved towards his pocket and he felt for the ring, the ring Richard Pincent so desperately wanted. He took it out and looked at it for a moment, then put it in his mouth.
The madness would end, Jude resolved.
Everything would change.
Mama! Mamanana! Want go home. Want go home, Mamanana.’
Anna squeezed Ben’s hand and pulled him towards her. ‘Soon,’ she whispered. ‘Soon, my darling.’
At least Molly was asleep, she thought heavily. At least her daughter wasn’t staring at the grey walls like her and Ben. Back in Pincent Pharma – she’d know this place if she were blindfolded. Everything she’d feared, everything she’d been so desperate to escape was here. It had happened; her nightmare had come true. And yet somehow she felt strangely calm.
The door opened suddenly and her grip tightened around Ben, who looked up hopefully. ‘Home?’ he asked. ‘Go home?’
‘Home!’ The man laughed, then appeared to shake himself. ‘You’re coming with me,’ he said, grabbing Anna and ignoring the children as though he couldn’t bear to look at them. Anna managed to hoist Molly in one arm and take Ben’s hand with her free one. ‘I can walk more easily if you don’t hold me like that,’ she said tightly. ‘It’s not like we’re going to be able to run anywhere, is it? Have you seen how long my brother’s legs are?’
The guard glanced down at Ben with distaste, then shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ he said. ‘But you try anything and you’ll regret it, understand?’
‘Where are we going?’ Anna asked.
‘None of your business,’ the guard replied. ‘Just follow me.’
‘Teter?’ Ben asked as they walked. ‘Teter here?’
Anna shook her head. ‘No, Ben. Peter isn’t here. He’s with the people who are going to burn this place to the ground. He’s going to rescue us, Ben. Just you wait.’ She spoke loudly; she wanted the guard to know she wasn’t scared. Wanted Ben to know.
‘Peter? He’s the other one, isn’t he?’ the guard asked, turning round. ‘The one upstairs?’ He laughed again. ‘Little brat’s right. He is here.’
Anna felt her heart flip. ‘Here?’ she gasped. ‘No, you’re wrong. He’s not here. He’s –’
‘Captured like the rest of them,’ the guard said triumphantly. He stopped and leant down so that his face was only centimetres from Ben’s. ‘Your Peter is an idiot,’ he said, a little smile on his face. ‘He isn’t brave, he’s just stupid. Like your mum here. You should be scared, little fellow, because nothing good’s going to happen to you. Nothing good at all.’
Ben’s eyes widened and Anna pulled him away. ‘I’m not his mother, I’m his sister,’ she said angrily. ‘And Peter is brave. He’s braver than anyone else I’ve ever met. And if he’s here, that’s a good thing. You’re the one who should be scared, not me, not Ben and not my daughter.’
She had wanted to protect Ben, reassure him, but as she spoke she realised that she meant every word. She wasn’t scared. Not for herself or for her children. Because she’d faced her nightmares, faced her worst fears, and she was still standing – they all were. ‘If you’re going to take us to see Richard Pincent, can we move a bit more quickly?’ she said sharply to the guard. ‘There are a few things I’d like to say to him.’
The guard opened his mouth to respond, then appeared to change his mind. Instead he upped his pace and Anna lifted Ben up and, carrying him and Molly in her arms, strode after him.
Peter willed Jude to hurry. Without the ring, he had nothing to offer for Anna’s freedom, her life. He could play for time, but it would run out eventually.
His grandfather was pacing up and down, sweat dripping from his forehead.
‘Why do you need the ring anyway?’ Peter asked. ‘What do you want with it?’
‘What do I want with it?’ His grandfather rounded on him angrily. ‘I want what should have been mine years ago.’ He stumbled slightly, grabbed hold of his desk. Then he snatched up a glass of water and drank it in one, looking at Peter insolently as he did so. He picked up his phone. ‘Where is the girl? She should be here by now. And get me some more water.’
He turned back to Peter, as though almost surprised to see him there. His eyes were glassy; they appeared confused. ‘Water,’ he gasped. ‘Water. Give me water.’
Peter watched him wide-eyed, then darted forward and wrestled him to the floor. This was his
chance, he realised. Grabbing a computer lead, he managed to wrap it round his grandfather’s hands. It wasn’t much but it was enough. He would get out of this room, he would find Anna, they would escape. He didn’t care about anything else.
His grandfather’s eyes were bulging in anger as he wrestled with the lead, still calling for water.
Peter wasn’t listening. He jumped up and ran to the door. He would surprise the guard bringing Anna and the children. He would overpower him, he would . . .
But as he got to the door it opened, knocking him sideways, and into the room walked a woman dressed in pale blue, her face covered in heavy make-up, her eyes dead, a large jug of water in her hands. Hillary Wright looked from Richard to Peter, then turned back to the corridor and called a guard to restrain Peter before putting the jug down on the desk. ‘Your secretary gave me this,’ she said to Richard as he struggled up off the floor. ‘Perhaps you can explain to me what’s going on here.’
Jude looked back at the images. There was one more person he needed to find, one more cross to mark in his mental matrix of the building. Frantically he sped through the images for the first floor, the second, the third. He couldn’t see into Richard Pincent’s office using this hub and could only guess that Peter was there waiting for him, wondering . . . He would have no idea that Anna was close by, Jude realised. But no matter. He had to stay focused.
At last he found what he was looking for – a simple room containing a single bed with no mattress. A fraillooking man was sitting on it, his face calm, his limbs still. Only his eyes were animated, their intense blue making Jude forget himself for a second. Pip looked old. Had they taken his Longevity away? Of course they had. His hair was white now, his skin thin and pale, but his jaw was still determined. This was not a man who had given up. Was it?
Something moved in the corner of the screen and Jude jumped as the door opened and his old adversary walked in. Derek Samuels. The man who would have had him killed given the chance. Jude felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Would he beat Pip? Would Jude be forced to watch the leader of the Underground being subjected to torture? To interrogation? Would he be able to save Pip before . . .
But as he watched, he felt his head clouding with confusion. Because as Derek approached Pip, his hands moved towards him not in a threatening way but in what Jude knew was a gesture of friendship. It was small – a hand on the arm – but unmistakable. Pip stood up, spoke, his face animated then serious. He nodded and Derek smiled.
Jude shuddered. The smile. He remembered it too well. The smile of an evil man. The smile of the devil.
He closed his eyes. He needed to think and the images in front of him were blurring his thoughts. This must be part of the plan, but how? Jude thought quickly.
Pip had brought him here. Pip, with his messages sent to Richard Pincent, to Peter, made to look like Sheila’s, like an amateur’s. Pip had known that Jude would suspect Sheila, had known that he would protect her. But when Sheila had told him she’d been protecting Jude, he’d realised that the real culprit could only have been one person. And he’d known instinctively that it was now up to Jude to take over, finish what he’d started, even if the path ahead was not entirely clear to Jude, even if he didn’t yet understand the rules of the game he was playing.
The lion chasing his tail, the mouse running free . . . Jude had assumed that the lion was Richard Pincent, that he and Pip were the mouse, that Pip knew what he was doing, that everything was a diversion, a smokescreen. But it couldn’t be. He’d missed something, had heard wrong. Hadn’t he?
Jude closed his eyes. He knew he hadn’t misheard, knew he hadn’t missed anything. But that meant that Pip was . . . that suggested that Pip had lied, that he was on the side of darkness.
Even as the thought occurred to him he knew it couldn’t be true. But he also knew that he needed to hear what they were saying. Frantically he pulled out his handheld device and connected it, sweat dripping off his forehead and making his fingers slip as they twisted wires together. As he connected it, he saw the light flashing, knew immediately that Peter needed him. But Peter would have to wait.
‘They’re downstairs,’ Derek was saying.
‘All of them?’ Pip asked.
Derek nodded. ‘They can’t stay here for long. It’s disgusting down there. The smell . . .’
Pip looked serious for a minute. ‘And Anna?’
‘He found her. She’s going upstairs. To Peter.’
Pip nodded. ‘Peter has the ring?’
‘No,’ Derek said. ‘He was scanned at the door. But the other boy has it. Jude. He and the other girl are hiding in the west wing.’
Pip’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes, I knew I could rely on him to do my bidding and bring everyone here. It’s all come together nicely, Derek. For a while there I was a bit worried.’
‘Me too.’ Derek smiled.
‘So then it is time, is it not?’
‘It is time,’ Derek agreed.
He helped Pip up. Jude stared open-mouthed, struggling to breathe. His airways were constricting, his head clouding. Had this been Pip’s game all along? Was the Underground the lion? Was Jude the lion? Had he been chasing his own tail while Pip, the mouse, had been working with Derek Samuels to deliver them all up to Richard Pincent? They were all here – Peter, Sheila, Anna, the Surpluses. There was no way out.
Except there was, Jude realised. He still had the ring. He had to leave, had to escape. Then he would issue his demands and Richard would acquiesce. He would have to. Desperately, Jude disconnected his handheld device and wriggled back through the ceiling cavity towards Sheila. He’d brought her here; he was responsible for her. He’d promised to protect her and he wouldn’t break that promise. He wouldn’t.
He could see the broken vent in front of him and moved frantically towards it. When he got there he could see Sheila’s face looking up anxiously. He looked down, met her gaze. ‘Sheila,’ he whispered hoarsely, ‘we have to get out of here. We have to get as far away as possible. Now.’
But Sheila didn’t reply; her face disappeared from view and was replaced by the face of a guard. Before Jude could react, he was pulled down to the floor below.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sheila cried. ‘He just came in. He saw the vent. I’m sorry, Jude. He threatened to . . . He said he’d –’
‘It’s OK,’ Jude said as the guard grabbed him. ‘It doesn’t matter now anyway,’ he added, his head slumping. ‘It’s all over, Sheila. It’s all over.’
.
Chapter Twenty-two
Jude felt sick as he was pushed roughly down the corridor. Sick, dizzy and empty. Everyone had come here because of him. Because he thought he knew – thought he was ready to lead.
He was ready for nothing. He hung his head, unable to look over at Sheila, unable to offer her any hope, any reassurance.
He stumbled and the guard behind him kicked him angrily, told him to be careful, told him not to make any trouble. He took out his walkie-talkie. ‘Mr Samuels, sir. I’ve got them. The boy and the girl. We’re on corridor W3.’ He listened to instructions. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said, and put the device away. Sheila was whimpering; all Jude wanted to do was to reach out, to protect her. But he knew he couldn’t. He had failed. There was no use pretending.
Another guard appeared in front of them and looked quizzically at the first.
‘I’m taking them to Room W467,’ the first explained. ‘Mr Samuels’ orders.’
The second guard shook his head. ‘Hillary Wright is here. She has ordered that all guards report directly to her,’ he said. ‘I’ll need to call up.’
‘Directly to her?’ the first guard asked sarcastically. ‘Since when do we follow the Secretary General’s orders at Pincent Pharma?’
‘Since now,’ the second guard said.
‘Well, I’m calling Mr Samuels,’ the first insisted. Jude watched him put his gun back in its holster. ‘See what he has to say about this.’
‘You don’t understand,’ the
second guard said. No gun, Jude noticed. Maybe strapped to his ankle. Still, it would take time to pull it out. He looked at Sheila. They had to try, didn’t they? Even if they died in the attempt. Maybe that would be better. ‘It doesn’t matter what he says,’ the second guard continued. ‘She’s the boss now. She’s in Mr Pincent’s office. She –’
Jude took his chance, grabbing Sheila and running down the corridor. They tore round the corner, heading for the West exit. He could hear the guards charging after them, yelling at them to stop. Shouting that they would shoot. Still Jude ran, his heart pounding in his chest. He only needed a few minutes. He could lock down the system, close the doors, shut off the cameras. He could do something. He could get Sheila out. Get the others out, too. It couldn’t end like this. He couldn’t be a failure, an also-ran, the person who led Peter, Sheila, Anna, the children to their deaths. Not without a fight. Not without . . .
‘Stop! Or we fire!’
He stopped, fell to the floor. Sheila screamed. The noise, louder than anything he’d ever heard. A shot. A bullet. Then another one. Crack! He felt his chest. He wasn’t hurt. Sheila? Had they shot Sheila? He opened his mouth and a strange sound came out, barely human. He grabbed her, pulled her towards him. ‘No. Sheila, no.’
‘She isn’t hurt, Jude.’
A voice. A familiar voice. A voice he once trusted. He looked up. Pip and Derek Samuels were walking towards them. He edged backwards, turned. On the floor behind him the guards lay slumped in pools of blood. His chest constricted. He looked back at Pip. ‘You,’ he said hoarsely. ‘It was you. You told Peter to come. You told Richard about the ring.’
‘Yes,’ Pip said, his blue eyes looking intently at Jude. ‘And you came, Jude. I knew you would. Give me the ring, please.’
Derek was pointing his gun at Jude. He looked around desperately but there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Hating himself, he handed the ring over.
‘You knew I’d bring Peter and Sheila,’ Jude said miserably. ‘Like lambs to the slaughter. To him.’ He looked at Derek Samuels with angry hostility. ‘To this monster. Your friend.’