CHAPTER 20
Dryden’s helicopter descended onto Brinkley House’s rooftop and even before the pilot had secured the wheel locks, Dryden was heading towards the second, seldom used, entrance into the building.
The hidden doorway was housed in an odd-looking, angular dome that, if viewed from above – by a spy-satellite, for instance – would appear level to the rest of the building. He pressed both hands flat on a plasma screen close to the door. The screen scanned his prints, isolating his fingertips. A moment later the screen went green and a section of the dome panelling next to the door sunk away revealing another polymer screen; it looked like the imprint of a screaming face, with holes for the eyes and mouth. Either side of the screen were smooth metal bars.
Dryden pressed his face up against the polymer screen and gripped the metal bars; his eyes wide and his mouth open. A thin beam scanned his retinal print and a swab dipped into the side of his mouth. Seconds later the door leading down into the rear of his penthouse office opened.
Only one person had attempted to bypass this level of security – seven years ago now, in an act of industrial espionage. As Dryden made his way down the steps to the door leading to his office he gave a smile, remembering the consequences. He wondered if the thief had had time to react to the lasers firing through the open areas of the “face”. Or had the electricity passing through the metals bars killed him first? Not that it mattered; that was the price of amateurish stupidity. No one came forward to claim ownership of the thief’s body, no one mourned his death and no other break-ins had been attempted. Until now.
Daniel picked up his phone, tucked it inside his jacket and looped the satchel’s strap over one shoulder. He lifted his backpack off the floor, opened it and took out two, identical, smaller backpacks. Each pack had a red, metal rip-cord running from the right-hand strap. He dropped the now-empty larger backpack by Brennan’s feet and slipped his arms through the loops of both of the smaller packs – one over his chest, the other across his back. He zipped up his jacket, pulled the collar high and secured the lower belt clip, of the pack across his back, around his waist.
He’d spotted a window in the corridor on his way from the lift. At only twenty-four floors his escape was always going to be risky, but there was no other way.
Dryden stood in his office and knew immediately that Daniel had been there – his chair was not in its usual place and there was the faint odour of grease and oil.
Dryden activated his screen; the holographic keyboard instantly appearing and replayed the security recordings. He watched as Daniel walked into the room and accessed the computer. Dryden couldn’t help but give a cold smile at Daniel’s image on the screen waving at the camera before moving to the computer. Dryden called up the last viewed document and swore under his breath as the details of where he was keeping the professor appeared.
Daniel’s image on the screen walked back out of the office – the time stamp told Dryden that he was twelve minutes behind the boy. He pulled a slim, gas syringe from his jacket, primed it and moved through into the lobby. He kicked away the plastic wedge keeping the elevator doors open, called the lift and took the two second ride down to the floor below. Dryden paused a moment before stepping into the corridor. He took out his small phone and tapped the screen.
‘This is Control. I’m now on the premises. Cancel the alarms.’
The main sirens went quiet before he’d replaced the phone into his jacket but the thin, constant tone from the professor’s room took over. It was then that he noticed the cold breeze blowing towards him down the corridor.
Daniel pushed the window open as far as it would swing on its hinges then, from one of the back-packs, pulled on a set of fingerless leather gloves and a pair of sepia-tinted goggles. He hauled himself up onto the ledge and looked down. A wave of nausea nearly overcame him and for a moment he was close to panicking. At that height the wind whipped and pulled at his clothes – seemingly trying to pull him out of the building – and what had appeared such a simple idea back in Pickford’s basement suddenly seemed to be a crazy idea. The sirens in the corridor behind him went quiet. It was now or never. He took one last glance over his shoulder into the empty corridor, took another deep breath then launched himself into the air.
Daniel gritted his teeth. It was one thing knowing the formula for a falling body of weight but experiencing it first hand was another thing altogether. He pulled the red rip-cord on the back-pack’s shoulder strap and a polymer chute shot out. It was instantly pulled into shape and in the swirling air it jerked him violently to one side. He swung dangerously close to the building’s wall and came close enough to scuff the tips of his boots against the bricks. He only managed to save himself from injury by pulling sharply on the chute’s toggles.
The action swung him back around – but with too much force. The wind bounced off the walls and slapped against the chute, sending him into a perilous spiral. He started to pivot, faster and faster; his legs pushed out wide. It was like sitting on the multi-coloured spinning whirl that he used to play on in the park when he was a child, only a thousand times worse. Even with the chute fully deployed he was heading towards the grass and tarmac at the rear of Brinkley House at a fatal speed.
The faster he spun the harder he found it to breathe and realised that if he wasn’t able to do something in the next few seconds then he wasn’t sure what would happen first: either he’d lose consciousness or he’d slam into the ground. Neither sounded good.
With one last effort he yanked on the toggles. The chute pitched violently to the side and he was jerked around in the opposite direction of the near-fatal spiral. He angled the chute away from the building, aiming for a all-but-empty car park a block away from Brinkley House. The nausea subsided. He suddenly thought that the professor might not have been as lucky, even if he’d have managed to get the old man this far.
But it would’ve been good to try.
Daniel hit the ground hard. He’d managed to guide the chute to a wide space between the few cars and tried to roll but the strength of momentum was too much. He ended up losing his balance and tipped over, bouncing over the tarmac. As he rolled over the loose gravel he got wrapped in the cord and polymer chute, like he was some sort of spider’s meal, eventually coming to rest at the base of a low hedge. After a few deep breaths managed to untangle himself from both the parachute and the hedge.
The gravel had scraped his face and finger-tips, and blood spotted from numerous small wounds. He got to his feet and could feel, from the stinging in his legs, that his knees and thighs had been skinned as well. He unclipped the waist strap and shrugged off the used back-pack. With one last look back at the imposing shape of Brinkley House he limped away.
The further Dryden walked along the corridor the fiercer the blowing wind became. He paused for a moment at the junction splitting off to the corner room and the open window, scanning the space. Dryden nodded slowly, as if he understood its significance, then returned the gas syringe back inside his jacket and pulled out his phone once more. ‘Tiberius is no longer in Brinkley House,’ he said as the call was answered. ‘Get a search team out for him. He’s within a mile radius.’
The phone returned to his pocket and he made his way to the right, towards the corner room. He stepped into the room, taking in the knocked-over tables and machines. He moved up to the plastic sheeting, parted it with one hand and looked at the professor’s corpse, with a chill expression. The silver fluid seeped out of the old man’s ears and eyes; lines of it trailed down his face and dripped onto the dark floor.
‘Oh, Alan,’ he muttered in a whisper. ‘At least it looks as if you’ll stay dead this time.’ He switched off the alarm tone and the room went quiet.
Dryden pulled his mobile from his jacket pocket once more and tapped the screen. Brennan’s phone started ringing from behind the bank of monitors. Dryden paused for a moment and an expression that bordered on confusion flashed across his face. He moved back outside the ring of sheeting, and followed
the noise. He stepped up to the Scot’s unconscious form and regarded the man with an even colder gaze. He cancelled the call and was about to return the phone to his pocket when it buzzed.
‘Yes?’ he snapped.
The muscle in the corner of his jaw twitched as he heard the feminine voice on the other end of the line.
‘Our system shows that Brinkley House has suffered some sort of … attack.’ The woman’s soft, Welsh accent belied the edge to her words.
‘Yes,’ he said trying to sound authoritative, ‘but the matter’s now been resolved.’
There was a slight pause before the woman spoke again. ‘I’m told that Tiberius was the cause of the problem.’
‘Yes.’
‘So you have him in custody?’
‘No.’
A longer pause this time. ‘No? Really? How interesting.’ Her voice became more business-like. ‘I’ll send over some of my people. It sounds as if you need the help.’
‘No, no,’ he said hurriedly. ‘That’s not necessary, Margaret. I assure you the matter is in hand. Tiberius may have eluded us this time but I’ve already –’
The woman interrupted him. ‘Let me stop you right there, Gregory. Tiberius hasn’t eluded us, he’s eluded you. And considering the number of “mistakes” you’ve made recently I’m not sure you’re in a position to assure anything. I’ll be honest with you; the Board aren’t overly happy with the way this whole sorry situation has been handled.’
‘You’ve been speaking with the Board?’
‘Comments have been made. And between the two of us; they haven’t been complimentary.’
‘You don’t have any authority to speak with them. That’s my responsibility.’
‘But you’ve been so terribly busy of late, Gregory. Concerns have been raised, at the highest level, and they decided to appoint me as co-liaison.’
‘What?’
‘However, never let it be said that we don’t give people a second chance. Or would that a third or fourth chance as far as you’re concerned?’
‘You know that it’s never as simple as –’
‘They’ve instructed me,’ Margaret interrupted him once more, ‘to let you know that you have one more day to rectify the matter. Once that time has lapsed then I will have the authority to take charge. Still, I’m sure it won’t come to that. Will it?’
‘No.’
‘Splendid. Oh, and one more thing, Gregory.’
‘Yes?’
‘In what condition is the bait you used?’
‘Bait?’
She gave a long sigh. ‘Don’t take me for a fool. In what condition is the professor?’
‘Dead, I’m afraid,’ Dryden said. ‘The fail-safe initiated before Tiberius could free him.’
‘That’s disappointing news,’ Margaret said. ‘I’m sure there were secrets still locked up in that noggin of his that we could have used.’
Dryden allowed himself a smug grin. ‘I already took the liberty of … extracting anything useful from him.’
‘Then perhaps you’re not quite the liability everyone thinks you are. Send me over what you managed to get.’
His grin faded and he did his best to sound compliant. ‘Of course.’
‘We’re all on the same side, Gregory, but for your sake clean up this mess. One day; that’s all. I look forward to receiving your call.’
The line went dead before he had the chance to reply. Dryden screwed his eyes shut and bit back the insults that were fighting their way to the surface. He pushed the phone back into his jacket and looked down at the unconscious man at his feet. ‘Why the hell did you let him get away?’
Dryden drew back a leg and kicked Brennan with each word spoken.
A mile away from Brinkley House Daniel leaned his back against a wall and caught his breath. Around him, in the small arcade of shops, people went about their normal business; their lives no different now from when they awoke that morning. Daniel watched them with envious eyes.
Then the image of the professor, cut up and tortured like a lab rat, came back to him.
If only I hadn’t tried to free him, Daniel thought, he’d still be alive.
No, his voice of logic whispered; it’s not your fault. No matter how much he wished it were different, Daniel knew deep down that even if he hadn’t come for the professor the old man still wouldn’t have lived. Dryden would have seen to that. The man who’d orchestrated Daniel’s past had taken away another piece of his life; just as he’d taken his parents. The man thought he could ruin people’s lives and kill without any care; that he could play God and no one would mind.
There was only one thing left for Daniel to do, if he really was to redress the balance for what Dryden had done to everyone he’d ever cared about. Daniel drew the back of one hand across his nose, pushed himself away from the wall and felt the shape of his phone in his back pocket. He pulled it out and pressed the screen.
‘Eleanor?’ he said when the call was answered. ‘It’s Daniel.’
‘My God, Daniel. Are you okay? I’ve been so worried.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘I tried to call you earlier.’
‘I know.’
‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ she quickly gabbled, ‘the man who crashed the car the other day by the diner, the one who you recognised –’
‘What about him?’ It wasn’t only her words which inflamed his concern; it was also the panicked tone in her voice.
‘He came to the house this morning.’
‘Did he hurt you?’
‘No, no he didn’t. Not at all. In fact …’
‘What?’
It sounded as if Eleanor took a breath before answering. ‘He said he was trying to help; that he was trying to protect you.’
‘He’s lying.’
‘Maybe. Only … only I’m not so sure. I think he might’ve been telling the truth. He said that he didn’t work for Dryden.’
‘Right, sure. So who does he work for?’
‘He didn’t say, just that it was someone else.’
Daniel recalled the words spoken by the Scottish man after the professor had died. ‘Trust me; he’s lying. They’re all liars. The important thing was that he didn’t hurt you.’
Eleanor went quiet.
‘He didn’t hurt you, right?’
‘No, he didn’t.’ Her voice cracked. ‘It’s not that.’
‘Then what is it?’
‘I didn’t know what to think. He told me his name was William Cross and that him telling me that was supposed to be a sign of his honesty. I’m sorry: he sounded so convincing.’
‘What do you have to be sorry for?’ Daniel paused. ‘What did you do?’
‘I was only trying to help –’
‘Ellie, what did you do?’
He could hear her tears. ‘I told him where you were; what you were doing. I’m sorry.’
Daniel closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. ‘That’s fine, Ellie. Don’t worry about it.’
‘Just before he left,’ Eleanor continued, ‘he called someone. Whoever it was, he told them that they needed to watch you now.’
‘That’s okay. Don’t worry about it.’
‘But I am worried. He … he also said to the person that he was sending them the frequency for some tracking beacons.’
Daniel opened his eyes. ‘Tracking beacons?’
‘He told me that he’d put some beacons on you a few days ago without you knowing. He said that when you left your cell phone with me at the deli they came back online for a minute. If there’s someone who can track you then you need to be careful.’
Daniel pushed himself away from the wall and moved towards the main road, searching for anyone looking at him. ‘I’ve already met him.’
‘What happened?’
Daniel smiled. ‘I got away.’
Eleanor paused again. ‘Have you … I mean, have you seen your professor?’
‘Yeah,’ Daniel said.
‘And?’
‘It’s not good.’
‘Oh, Daniel, I’m so sorry.’
‘I did everything I could but … I just couldn’t save him.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ Eleanor paused again. Daniel could hear her breathing. ‘Does this mean you’re staying there … or what?’
‘There’s one more thing I need to do before I can even think about what happens tomorrow.’
‘What? What else do you need to do?’
‘Close Dryden down,’ Daniel said, flagging down a taxi. ‘Once and for all.’