The Last Enemy (19 page)

Please don’t let them ask for fingerprint ID, he prayed silently. He was sure Guy would find a way to fool them, using Gareth’s finger, but he didn’t want there to be a chance for things to go wrong even before they’d got into the base. One step at a time, he told himself, trying to keep calm. First, get through this gate. Then, get past security into the hangar. Then . . . play it by ear. If there’s no sign of The Index, overpower Guy, take his gun off him, and force him to make that phone call.

The soldier took Jake’s ID card, compared the photo on it with Jake himself, then handed the card back to him. The soldier did the same with the ID card that Guy handed to him. A button was pressed inside the security cabin, and the barrier rose up.

Jake drove the SUV through the main gate, and towards where he knew the hangar to be.

‘So far so good,’ murmured Guy behind him.

Jake continued along the main road through the base, passing single-storey buildings, all identified with letters: AA, AB, AC . . . CD, CE, CF . . .

‘You’ve been here before,’ commented Guy.

‘A long time ago,’ said Jake. ‘And only on the outer part of the base.’

‘But you know where this hangar is?’

‘Yes,’ said Jake. He gestured ahead. ‘In fact, you can see it, past the next load of buildings.’

‘Ah yes,’ said Guy.

The hangar was huge. It towered above the rest of the base like a pyramid rising from the sands of ancient Egypt.

‘Where’s the security around it?’ asked Guy, and Jake could hear the impatience in his voice.

‘We’re about to get to it,’ said Jake.

He took a left, then a right, and they saw in front of them the double-wire fence topped with razor wire protecting the hangar. There was a security checkpoint at a gate in the fence, leading into the inner security area, and the hangar. This security checkpoint was more fortified than the cabin at the main gate into the base. Instead of a metal barrier, there were two large and very heavy metal gates. Razor wire not only topped the fence and the gates, but was woven in between the wires of the fence. Concrete blocks had been placed in a zigzag pattern at strategic points leading up to the checkpoint so that the gate couldn’t be rammed. As well as the soldiers they could see on duty inside the checkpoint cabin, two heavily armed soldiers stood on either side of the gate.

‘Pull over,’ snapped Guy.

Jake pulled the car to a halt.

‘What now?’ he asked.

‘Swing back and pull up in a sheltered area near one of the buildings,’ ordered Guy. ‘Out of sight of that checkpoint.’

Jake turned the SUV and drove back, heading towards the main gate.

‘There, on the left,’ said Guy.

There was a car park on the left, behind one of the low buildings. Jake turned the SUV into it.

‘OK,’ mused Guy thoughtfully. ‘If they use the fingerprint ID check at that gate, this could be a problem. I should be able to get through there with Level Five clearance, but you definitely won’t.’

‘So I’ll drop you off and wait for you here,’ said Jake.

Guy scowled.

‘If you test my patience with that kind of asinine crack again, Jake, I’ll shoot you without further thought. You are not leaving my sight until all this is over.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘We get out of the car and you get in the boot. There’s a nice little space there under the carpet. I’ll drive us through using your friend’s Level Five pass. Once we’re in, you can get out from the boot. And don’t try shouting out any warnings. Remember, if I don’t make that call, your girlfriend dies.’

‘I remember,’ grunted Jake.

Jake and Guy got out. Jake went to the boot, opened it, and lifted up the carpet. As Guy had said, there was a perfect empty space beneath it. Jake guessed that it had been used before for smuggling things in and out of places: people, contraband.

Jake climbed in and curled himself up into the hole, and Guy pulled the carpet over him, covering him.

‘Remember,’ warned Guy, his voice now muffled by the carpet, ‘no tricks.’

Jake felt the car shudder as the boot slammed shut, then he heard Guy clamber into the driving seat. The car started up, and moved off.

The space was small and cramped. Jake was already feeling pain in his back from where he was bent double to fit into it, but he knew he daren’t make any noises or movements to try and stretch and ease his discomfort.

Would they get through? Would the soldiers on duty believe Guy? Would Guy be able to use Gareth’s finger on the fingerprint ID without his sleight of hand being spotted? How? What if the soldiers on duty got suspicious and made Guy open the boot, and they peeled back the carpet and found Jake?

The thought of all the things that could go wrong made Jake feel sick.

The car stopped and Jake heard one of the soldiers say, ‘We saw you pull up before. What happened to you?’

Jake heard Guy’s voice, cheerful and chatty, friendly as ever, as he said, ‘I had to drop my pal off.’

‘OK,’ grunted the soldier. ‘ID?’

‘Here,’ said Guy.

Jake could imagine him handing over Gareth’s ID card, and the soldier studying it.

‘OK,’ said the soldier. ‘Fingerprint on the glass screen.’

There was silence, and Jake’s heart was in his mouth as he imagined the scene outside the car, as the soldier held out the ID machine to Guy. Guy surely couldn’t produce the remains of a bloody finger and press it against an ID screen in front of the soldier!

There was a heart-stopping pause that seemed to go on for ages. Then Jake heard the sound of machinery activating as the gates opened, and the soldier said, ‘OK. Go through.’

Jake felt the SUV move forward. He heard the gates shut heavily behind them. They travelled for a few moments, and then the car stopped. Jake heard the driver’s door open and close, and then the sound of the boot being opened. The carpet was peeled back, and Jake looked up into Guy’s face.

‘Easier than I thought,’ said Guy, smirking. ‘Your friend’s finger worked a treat.’

As Jake got out of the back of the car, he saw that Guy had parked next to a high-sided van, which kept them out of sight from the security checkpoint gate. They were right beside a door set into the wall of the hangar. Next to the door was an ID scanner, with a slot for the ID card, and another screen for the fingerprint check.

‘How did you do it?’ asked Jake, stunned. ‘You can’t have just pulled a bloody finger out of your pocket!’

‘Credit me with some intelligence!’ snapped Guy irritably. ‘They had one of these mirror pads, like a mobile phone screen. He handed it to me through the car window. I dropped it, accidentally on purpose, into the footwell of the car, and while I was picking it up off the floor, I pressed Mr Findlay-Weston’s finger against the screen. Hey presto! Open sesame!’ He looked up at the massive shape of the hangar and muttered, ‘So far so good, Jake. Right, this is the last stage. Let’s hope our luck continues, because if The Index
isn’t
in here, things are going to go very bad.’

Chapter 26

As they walked towards the door, Guy ordered, ‘Stay close to me, Jake, so that when the door opens we both get through. It might be on a timer that shuts as soon as one person walks through it.’

Jake shot a look at his watch. 17:00 hours. They had less than thirty minutes to find The Index so that Guy could make the call. Once again, Jake did his best to try and keep himself calm. Inside, he knew this was a dead end, despite the confidence with which he’d told Guy that The Index would be here. It was now just a matter of waiting for the right moment to grab Guy and take his gun off him. Maybe he should have raised the alarm at the checkpoint? The soldiers would have overpowered Guy. But his fear was that Guy would have pulled out his own gun, a fire-fight would have taken place, and Guy would have been shot dead. Jake needed him alive.

And even if the soldiers had been able to take Guy alive, wounded or otherwise, there was no guarantee that Guy would make that phone call to save Lauren and the others. The soldiers wouldn’t necessarily believe Jake’s story either. And, even if they did, they’d hardly be likely to threaten to kill Guy unless he made the phone call. No, only Jake would be able to do that, which meant Jake was on his own. He had to overpower Guy. Maybe when they were going through this door together?

Jake stopped by the door with Guy close behind him. With one hand in his jacket pocket, holding the gun on Jake, Guy used his free hand to push Gareth’s ID card through the scanner. Then he took Gareth’s finger from his pocket and pressed the tip against the glass screen.

There was a click and the door opened.

Guy pushed Jake and the two of them slipped through the doorway like one person, then the door shut, and they were inside the hangar. Jake was scanning the warehouse for a weapon but all he could see were rows and rows of shelves in aisles, reaching up to the curved ceiling. Above each aisle was a letter, all neatly alphabetised: A, B, C . . . And every shelf in every row looked to be packed with items, boxed or wrapped up.

‘We’re in!’ murmured Guy. ‘Right, Jake, what next?’

A noise made them turn round. An armed soldier was approaching them, his gun pointing towards them. Jake had blown his moment.

‘Let’s see your ID cards,’ snapped the soldier.

‘But we’ve just used them to get in!’ protested Guy.

‘You know the rules,’ said the soldier. ‘Triple protection. Gate security, door security, and the final face-to-face check.’ He frowned suspiciously. ‘But the fact you don’t know . . .’

‘Yes, all right,’ grumbled Guy. ‘They told us back at the office. But this is our first time, and I’d forgotten.’

The soldier still regarded them warily.

‘Where is your office?’

Guy shot a look at Jake, who said, ‘The Department of Science press office in Marsham Street.’

The soldier didn’t look convinced. He held out his hand.

‘Let’s see your ID cards,’ he said.

Guy held out Gareth’s ID card.

The soldier studied it, comparing the photo with Guy. Then he ran it through a decoding machine on the wall beside the door. The machine beeped.

‘OK.’ The soldier nodded. He held out a small machine, similar to a mobile phone. ‘Right index finger on the screen.’

Guy reached out to take it, and as he did he suddenly produced a knife from behind his back with his other hand and thrust it upwards hard beneath the soldier’s chin. The blade hit the soft flesh and sank in deep, upwards. The soldier’s eyes opened wide in shock, his mouth dropped open and blood gushed out. Then he crumpled against Guy.

Guy pushed the dead soldier away, pulling his long-bladed knife out from beneath the soldier’s chin. Guy wiped the blade, closed it, and reached round the back of his jacket, slipping the knife into a hidden pocket.

‘Always keep a knife behind your back where you can get hold of it quickly in an emergency, Jake,’ he said almost casually. ‘A gun’s very effective, but the last thing we want is a gun going off, even with a suppressor fitted, that might bring people running.’

Jake stared at the dead soldier.

‘Come on,’ said Guy. ‘Get him out of sight, in case anyone else turns up.’

Jake looked at Guy. He was still in a state of shock.

‘Come on!’ snapped Guy urgently. ‘I don’t need to tell you the clock is ticking, if you want to save your girlfriend!’

This could be my chance, thought Jake. He gestured at the dead body of the soldier.

‘I can’t move him on my own,’ he said.

Guy shook his head.

‘Do it!’ he snapped. ‘Or else I might think you’re trying to distract me.’

Jake hesitated, then grabbed the dead body of the soldier by the ankles and dragged it over to a small table near the door.

‘Put his gun with him,’ ordered Guy. He pointed to a roll of tarpaulin. ‘Then cover him with that tarp.’

Jake did as he was ordered, snatching a glance at his watch. 17:05. Twenty-five minutes to go.

Guy saw him look at his watch and chuckled.

‘Yes, indeed, Jake. Time is passing. So, let’s find this book. Where do we start?’

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Jake helplessly. ‘I’ve never been in here before.’

‘Then
think
, Jake. It’s worked for you so far. That’s what’s got us here.’

‘Well, the boxes seem to be in alphabetical order,’ said Jake.

‘Good.’ Guy nodded. ‘So, we’re looking for The Index. Under I, do you reckon?’

‘No,’ said Jake, shaking his head. ‘M for Malichea. If it’s here, that’s where it’ll be.’

‘It had better be here,’ said Guy menacingly. ‘You know what’s at risk if it isn’t.’

‘It’ll be here,’ Jake reassured him desperately.

Jake hurried to the aisle of shelves with a big ‘M’ above it, and began to work his way along the row, scanning, looking particularly for anything with the familiar black leather covering with the letter ‘M’ and the symbol of the Order embossed on it. There were plenty of labels beginning with ‘Ma . . .’, but nothing that looked like anything Jake could connect with the Order of Malichea.