Next Of Kin (Unnatural Selection #3) (14 page)

His silly grin
made me burst out laughing. “We’re both mad.”

“Maybe that’s
why Nick likes us. But you’ll need help.”

“I’ve got
smart friends. Don’t tell me about your ideas, while I fail to make
the tea.”

I did need
help, but it was there in handfuls. Karl confessed to being
horrified at what we were attempting, but that didn’t stop him
throwing his weight behind the plan, helping us organise costumes
and props and giving valuable advice. When Harry told Angus what we
wanted to do, he couldn’t have stopped his lover pitching in—and
not just Angus, five of his martial arts friends too.

Charlotte
refused to be excluded, but put her foot down about Beth going in.
“You’re too short and slight, darling. No one will believe you’re a
policewoman.”

“You’re just
saying that because I’m little.”

“Beth, we need
backup too,” I said, hoping to forestall an argument. “Can you work
with Andy?”

“It’s not
fair. Tall girls have all the fun.” But she agreed to work in the
background.

The plan
was simple, illegal, and likely dangerous. Angus, Charlotte and
Angus’s chums were to be dressed in hired police uniforms—which
would be carefully altered so they were
not
exact replicas of the real thing—and carry hired
batons, radios and helmets. They would charge in, claim there had
been a terrorist threat, and try to clear the building out. In the
confusion, Harry and I would get into the west wing and search for
Nick and the missing Gordon Dangerfield.

At no point,
Andy insisted, was anyone to claim they were actually a police
officer, or attempt to arrest anyone, or use more than defensive
force. There was the sticky issue of getting the key for the door
from the guard, but Harry had practiced with Angus and figured he
could swipe the key ring without physically confronting the man, if
I distracted him. We were going to be wearing hazmat outfits to
hide our faces and cause further confusion.

Beth and
Andy would monitor events from their separate vehicles and would
act as interference if we had to make a run for it. The second any
of us found evidence that Nick
was
being held there, Beth would alert the local police. Andy
reckoned we had a maximum of ten minutes before the police arrived
one way or another. He would act as stopgap cop if absolutely
necessary, but I hoped we wouldn’t need him. He could be sacked if
his involvement became known. The rest of us might suffer, but his
position was the most perilous.

It was
important none of us were grabbed or photographed, and that we got
clean away if possible. But it was much more important that we
established if Nick was inside the building or not.

We’d decided
to do it at night because it was likely there would be fewer staff
and patients around, and the cover of night would add to the
confusion. One of Angus’s friends had a house five miles from the
clinic, and offered it as a place to change into the costumes.
Andy—who was definitely not there and would deny being anywhere
near the house if asked—checked out the way the others had batons
and belts fixed, and ensured that there was nothing remotely
resembling insignia or a Met badge. The uniforms looked incredibly
convincing—but then the same company who often supplied the BBC and
ITV for their police shows had provided them. Everyone was wearing
riot helmets and face masks. I hoped this would prevent people like
Charlotte being photographed, because she also had a lot to lose—my
pointing this out to her had had no effect whatsoever in deterring
her, and she had rightly said we might need a doctor depending on
whether we found Nick and the other man or not.

We all lined
up for a final check. “What do you think?” I asked. Angus and his
pals made a solid wall of black-clad muscle that looked
convincingly intimidating, at least to me.

“You look like
the brute squad,” Andy said. “Stomp around, yell a lot, and don’t
give anyone time to ask questions.”

“Fear,
uncertainty and dismay,” Angus said. “I’m good at that. Right,
let’s move.”

Harry drove
the anonymous white van we’d hired to the road near the clinic
gate. Beth and Andy pulled in behind, and flashed their lights. We
were ready to go.

The van
roared up to the clinic’s front entrance, and Angus and the boys
piled out, Charlotte and I behind. Harry left the van doors wide
open and ran in after us. Angus was already yelling at the
receptionist that the clinic had to evacuate because of a reported
biological agent threat.

“Everybody
out! Through the back exit, that way, now!” His bellows rattled the
windows.

The
receptionist hit the fire alarm, but Angus’s men didn’t give her a
chance to ask what the hell was happening, herding her and two
nurses who had come to see what the problem was, back down the
corridor. Harry danced around the security guard while I got in the
man’s face.

“What the hell
are you still doing here?” I shouted. “There’s a bomb about to go
off in the carpark! Move it! Move!”

The guy
bolted. Harry held up the key ring in triumph. “Hurry,” I said.
“Charlie, make sure no one comes back in here.”

The reception
area was now empty. Harry unlocked the door to the west wing. He
and I turned on our flashlights. “Which door?”

“All of them.
Car Betty, we’re in.”

“Roger,
Annie.”

I wished we’d
picked better code names. But right now, I wanted to know what was
behind those doors.

There was just
one problem.

Harry lifted
the key ring. “None of these keys are for these locks.”

“Bugger.” I
cast around for something we could smash the door in with. There
was a shocking lack of crowbars and sledgehammers lying around for
us to use.

“Wait,”
Charlotte said, running back into the reception area. She returned
a few seconds later with a fire extinguisher. “Stand back. I’ve
done this before.”

When on earth...?
Never mind. She smashed the lock on the first door, which
swung open. I found a light switch. To no one’s surprise, it
worked. The light revealed an examination room with nice, shiny,
brand new equipment, and cupboards full of supplies.

“Unused, my
bottom,” she said. “Next one.”

The next room
was empty but clearly ready for an occupant, with a cot bed, sink
and toilet, and shelves on one wall. For staff? Or an unwilling
patient?

And the next
room held Nick, swinging to his feet in shock at the noise.

“What the
hell’s going on? Who are you?”

I pulled off
my helmet and gave him a smile. “Hello, love. Ready to go
home?”

“Anton! Yes, I
bloody am! But, hang on, there’s another guy here somewhere.”

“We’ll get
him.” I spoke into the microphone on my collar. “Car Betty, call
the police now. We’ve found him.”

Charlotte and
Harry bashed in the door next to Nick’s, and I heard them talking
to someone, presumably the ‘other guy’. I’m afraid I only had eyes
and ears for one person. I crushed Nick against me.

“God, you’re
thin.” And with a short unruly beard, and messy hair longer than
I’d ever seen him wear. Scruffy wasn’t a good look for him, but
neither was captivity. Fortunately, I planned to sort both out damn
quickly.

He cupped my
face as if he couldn’t believe I was really there. “How the hell
did you find me? And what’s this get up?” He poked at the hazmat
suit.

“Long story.
Have you got any shoes?” He was dressed in a nondescript pair of
shorts and T-shirt. He’d be cold outside. I doubted he gave a damn,
but I did.

“No. Hang on,
there are...there.” He put on a pair of thin slippers. Best he
could do, I supposed. “Let’s get out of here.”

I grabbed his
hand and dragged him out of that crummy room, out into the dark
corridor. Charlotte and Harry had the other fellow in tow. I heard
a lot of angry shouting. “Quick! Before they come back!”

But when we
burst through the glass doors, planning to make a run for Beth’s
vehicle, a glare of bright lights blinded me. I pushed Nick
protectively behind me. “You can’t have him. I’ll stop you!”

“Anton, to
your left. It’s okay. All of you, hurry.”

Andy.
I shielded
my eyes and ran to the left, dragging Nick along in my firmest
grip. Someone rushed forward to wrap a blanket around Nick, and
someone else did the same for the other guy—who I supposed had to
be Gordon Dangerfield—taking him out of Harry and Charlotte’s
hands. Nick and Gordon were guided over to an ambulance. I went to
follow, but saw Andy coming towards us.

“I thought you
said we had ten minutes,” I said, keeping my voice down.

“Things have
moved on. Is he okay?”

“He looks it.
But I need to....” I waved over towards Nick’s location.

“Go on.”

I arrived at
the ambulance to find Nick sitting on the ambulance steps, arguing
with a paramedic. “No, I am not fucking going to a hospital. Anton,
tell her.”

“But
Nick—”

“Tell
her.”

“Um...I’m
afraid he’s not fucking going to a hospital, miss. He’s been locked
up for over two months.”

Nick looked up
at me. “Have I? Fuck.” He looked rather fragile at that. I knelt in
front of him and took his hands. “I was sure they were going to
kill us.”

“But they
didn’t.”

The paramedic
made another attempt to listen to his heart. “Sir, you need to be
checked out.”

He brushed her
hand and the stethoscope aside. “No, I need to go home with my
husband to my own bed. I can see my own fucking GP tomorrow. I’m
fine. Leave me alone.” He stood and pushed the paramedic away,
reaching for me. I pulled him away from the ambulance. Gordon was
lying on a gurney, being a model patient. But then he didn’t have
anyone to fight for him. Nick looked at him, then at me.

“Andy? Does
Gordon have a family?” I asked.

“A
sister.”

“You better
call her. And do what you can to stop the poor sod being kept in
hospital tonight. He’s been through enough.”

“I’ll do what
I can.” Andy stared at Nick. “Anton’s been boring the hell out of
us, telling us you were still alive. And bugger me, you are.” He
grinned and wrapped Nick in a hug. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks, you
bastard. Anton? What’s happening?”

“I have no
idea. Let’s find somewhere warm for you to sit—”

A tall figure
lunged out of the mass of milling people. “Nick!” Charlotte threw
herself at her friend. “Are you all right?” She hugged him so tight
I thought she’d suffocate him. Nick didn’t seem to mind, but I was
relieved when she let him go.

“I’m fine,
Charlie, but when did you join the...what the hell are you
wearing?” He looked past her. “Harry? What are you all doing here?”
Nick clung to my arm. “Am I dreaming all this?”

“Not unless we
are too. No, we’re real,” Harry said, grinning madly. “Come here.”
He also insisted on giving Nick a hug, which Nick returned just as
enthusiastically. “You’ve got one amazing husband, Nick
Guthrie.”

“I already
knew that. Where’s Angus?”

“Over there,
er...possibly being arrested. Excuse me. I better go and talk to
someone.”

Charlotte
tugged at my shoulder. “My car’s over there, with Beth. Come and
sit. It’ll be warmer.”

The place was
swarming with police officers—the real thing. There was still a lot
of shouting, and civilians being surrounded by police. Some of
ours, some of theirs. “Is that Chris Stevens?” Nick asked,
pointing, just as we got to the Audi. “What’s he doing here?”

“No idea. Get
inside, love. I wish we could drive away right now, but I think we
need to stay and answer some questions.”

“I should get
out of this uniform before someone arrests me,” Charlotte said,
undoing her vest and letting an eager Beth finish the job of
stripping her down to her bra.

“Good thing
I’m gay,” Nick muttered. “Someone tell me what’s going on? The
short version?”

“Evil doctor
holds innocent vees to milk them of useful blood,” Beth said.
“Heroic spouse and friends break in to save missing guys. The
end.”

“Useful for
what? Oh God—not that fountain of youth shit? I told you that would
make my life a misery.”

I hugged him
close, kissed him a couple of times just because I could, at long
last. He felt so good against me even if he smelled wrong. “We
think so, but we haven’t proven that part yet. You’ll need to wait
for the longer version if you want more.”

Charlotte was
now modestly dressed in a jumper and padded filet vest, and Beth
had found another blanket for Nick. I waited another fifteen
minutes, cuddling my husband and enjoying the sensation of holding
him again. He seemed content to be with me, but it was Charlotte
who finally grew impatient.

“Maybe you
better go find out if they need us to hang around,” she said. “Nick
needs to get out of here, and it’s cold.”

“Yes, you’re
right. Look after him for me.”

“And you two
ladies can tell me what’s been going on, too,” Nick said.

Charlotte
turned to grin at us. “Yes, sir.”

I reluctantly
left Nick in the charge of the women while I went in search of
Andy. I found him deep in conversation with Chris Stevens.

“Hello,
Chris—why are you here?”

“A little bird
hinted that if we wanted to solve our missing persons case, this
was the time and place to be here.”

“A little bird
called Andrew?”

He smiled. “No
comment. Actually, it’s because we learned something interesting
about Luis Oliveira earlier today. We checked his phone records,
and it showed a large number of calls to one Annette Clarke, who
just happens to be the project secretary on that ISH study. She’s
also Oliveira’s sister-in-law. When we questioned her, she broke
down and admitted that she and her husband owed Henry Burton a lot
of money. Her sister—Oliveira’s wife—knew they were about to lose
their house, and Oliveira had arranged for Burton to offer them a
remortgage at no interest, in exchange for a little bit of help
with his clinic’s needs. Her husband forced her to go along with
the idea, and by force, I do mean he used actual force.”