The Whitehall Syndicate: A time travel conspiracy thriller (26 page)

His voice was sounded raspy now and every word was laboured. “My employer lives at the top of an apartment on the corner of Shaldon Drive, opposite where Trafalgar square used to be.” Frank and Jack looked at each other, then Frank regained his passive violent streak and ran the tip of the knife blade up to the base of Tomlinson's left lung. His clothes smelled putrid and were splattered in all sorts of blood and entrails.

“Your employer. Give me a name.” There was a pause and Frank began to push harder with the knife. Picks of blood began to form on Tomlinson's formerly white shirt as Frank broke the skin. Staring straight into his eyes he repeated the order. As the knife sunk deeper and deeper, Tomlinson crushed his eyes shut, the pain obviously affecting him. Finally he choked out, “Okay stop. The man's name is Mario Ortega.”

The morning rays of murky sunshine broke through Jack's bloodshot eyes and awoke him to a lukewarm breeze. Every muscle in his body was stiff and his head throbbed with so much force he felt dizzy just laying still.

Stirring over he saw from the clock that it was still an hour until Frank was supposed to come by. After the state he was in yesterday, no one was sure it he would arrive at all: he may have already gone to finish the job last night.

Jack mustered himself out of the sheets and saw that everyone seemed to be awake except for Pete, who was still fast asleep. Anisha had a black and purple bruise across her chin, but as she smiled at him from across the kitchen, he forgot all about it.

She was already dressed in a dark brown suit with a cherry red top on because, even though she had the morning off, she was being forced to come to work later on, on a high priority situation. No prizes for guessing what that was, she thought.

Jack walked over to the counter and made himself some coffee. After changing clothes into a pale brown suede suit with a red wine top, he lay down on the couch and closed his eyes, waiting for Pete to wake up.

He rested his eyes for a second and the next thing he knew Anisha was shaking him awake and everyone around him was ready to go. Getting in the car they all left to get to Mario's address. Pete had shifted his schedule so he was allegedly working from home today and Kim had unofficially quit her job after nearly being shot.

Gina couldn't face work and had called in sick. Since Anisha was altering the monitors at work, hopefully she wouldn't be fired. These days it was nearly impossible to get a job and you had to hang on to what you had. With the push for education, universities were churning
out more people per year than there were new vacancies, and someone with older qualifications didn't stand a chance anymore.

She watched Frank, Kim, Jack and Anisha leave and was thankful she didn't have to face Ortega. Instead she had been left with Pete to guard the two prisoners, a job she was confident they could handle. After all, they were gagged and tied up. How difficult could it be?

As Frank and company approached the apartment complex he motioned for everybody to stay behind him. It was a dingy, run-down block of flats with the overbearing smell of urine. Paint had chipped off the surface of most walls and the floor was made up of a felty, cheap brown carpet.

Slowly creeping up to the door, Frank stepped slowly over the creaky floorboards. Without saying anything, he kicked open the door and stormed in, the others gingerly following behind him.

They entered to find an empty room, completely cleared out. Disappointed filled every face and Frank immediately began looking around, determined not to give up yet. The floor was made of dust-covered wood panelling and there was no carpet to speak of, just a faded blue rug sat in the middle of the room. Grubby white walls enclosed the room and a single solitary light bulb dangled from the ceiling.

Wedged between the floorboards, Frank found a scrap of paper with BERMONDSEY written on it, and a locker number. As everybody began to walk around and search for clues, the pitter-patter of feet was interrupted by a loud creak.

Frank’s ears pricked up and he turned to see Jack standing on a wonky floorboard. Jack, noticing Frank’s expression, instinctively froze. Running over to the piece of wood, Frank shuffled Jack out of the way before pulling it up. As he expected, it was a secret storage space.

In the gap beneath the plank of wood was a small book. He took it out and saw it was lab plans. Kim looked over his shoulder curiously and cleared her throat to get his attention. “I know what those plans are,” she said. “That one's my laboratory and those are the six places I took the boxes from. That one must be another lab.” Jack looked at the documents intently. There were two circles marked on that one as well. Which meant there must be two more items.

Frank walked into the small train station and scanned around. Commuters everywhere waited for the next train on the cold, crowded platforms. The great thing about the rail service was that it always, always ran on time. It was one of the great things that the Liberal party had done during their huge spell in office.

The station was small and Frank didn't have much difficulty in finding the locker he wanted. Getting to it, he tried opening the faded orange door just in case it was unlocked. It wasn't. A voice in the back of his head told him he probably shouldn’t alert the train staff to open it. It might draw too much attention and he didn’t know what was inside; it could be anything. Frank stroked his stubble against the grain and heard the familiar crackling sound that helped him think.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a lock pick. It was strictly against police procedure and was normally something he just learnt as a hobby. However any doubts he may've had about breaking procedure and bending the law had all died when Tony did. Delicately working the pins in the shaft he finally locked them all in place and turned around his pick, opening up the lock.

After finding the clues in the apartment they had split up to search every lead. Frank was at full strength so he had decided to go alone to the train locker. As he stood in front of it, he was surprised at how easy it had been to pick.

He knew this sort of set up well. Train lockers were often the way that thieves and criminals exchanged either money or stolen items. Airport lockers were more heavily guarded but loopholes in the country's privacy laws meant that train lockers had fewer cameras around them and were less likely to be searched at random.

Frank pulled open the door and saw one small electronic
key card with a radio pad, lying in an otherwise baron locker. This sort of key wasn't used much nowadays. It was similar to the style of ignition key that some classic automobiles used to use, especially some of the Mercedes Saloons.

Frank smiled at the thought of owning a Mercedes E-320. In his opinion it was the sexiest car ever made and the one he one day dreamed of owning. But on his salary, that was all it would ever be. A dream.

Grabbing the pad, he pressed it, hoping that whatever it unlocked was nearby. He heard a beeping sound and amid the warble of the people on the platform, strained his ears to discern where it came from.

The laboratory complex was smaller than Kim's, but the basic layout was similar. There were tiny swipe card readers at every door and looking for another, less secure, way in, she found none. Jack and Kim walked around to the side of the whitewashed building and arched their heads back, looking up at the nine floors. Smaller than Kim's perhaps, but it was still quite large. It was lucky they had a map. Jack looked over to his right and saw a window.

“I think I've got a way in.”

“You mean through that window? It probably leads to the toilet.”

“It's still a way in.”

“Only if you can reach it…and get through that small slit.” Jack looked at the narrow opening and then down at his stomach. Looking back up again he walked over to the window, undeterred by its size. He heard Kim's footsteps following behind him.

While Kim kept an eye out, Jack tried jumping up to get a secure hold of the window, but it was too high. Kim could see his floundering efforts where leading him no-where, and racked her brain for an alternative.

Spotting a few crates in the alleyway she lugged them over while Jack still jumped in vain. “Try these,” she said and he looked over with a smile. Assembling the blue plastic boxes into a step-like formation, Jack climbed onto the first crate, then from there up another level onto a second. Trying the window now he pulled it as far open as it would go and tried to squeeze headfirst into the surprisingly clean, white tiled bathroom.

Halfway through, he felt the window ramming hard into his back and he wheezed all the air from his lungs to try and squeeze himself
through. Making no progress, he shimmied backwards and slowly arched himself out of the window, admitting defeat.

He was definitely too small for the window, but he wagered Kim would fit through perfectly. Jumping off, he motioned for her to try and she got up onto the crates. Kim was severely claustrophobic and although this wasn't exactly a confined space, passing through the window felt like it.

Her biggest fear had always been finding herself in a situation where she was locked in a room with no windows or doors to get through. She would have to take the air vent and she was mortally afraid of getting inexplicably stuck half way through, unable to move in any direction.  As she tried to squeeze through the window, it mustered up the same feelings.

She closed her eyes and kept pushing through; her hips were nearly inside now. Breathing a little heavier she began to feel stuck and perspiration sprang onto her face. With an exhausted yell she pulled herself back outside and jumped off the crates. Jack could see she was shaken up and didn't press her to try again. Their search inside the laboratory would have to be postponed.

A bead of glimmering saliva sluggishly dripped out of Pete's mouth and formed a small patch of dribble on the black leather sofa. Pete quickly wiped the couch and the side of his mouth. He hadn't been able to get to sleep yet so instead he was on the couch vegetating; recovering from his wounds.

Tomlinson was bound and gagged in front of him, and still making a racket. As Gina got out the ingredients to make a nice camomile tea, she frowned, no longer hearing the ruckus.

Straining her ears and stepping more closely all she could hear was Green’s muffled cursing and Pete's steady, rhythmic breathing.  She turned the kettle on and walked out to the living room, the floor creaking slightly beneath her feet. As she neared the couch she could see that Pete was tossing and turning again.

Her ears pricked up as she heard the floor creak and turned around in time to see Tomlinson lunging at her. Jumping for cover she managed to duck his blow and she got up to face him. There was so much dry blood over his face he looked as if he had been in a car accident.

His breathing sounded rough and turbulent and despite all manner of viscous fluids freely flowing from his body, he ran for her again, a crazed look in his eyes.

Gina let her instincts take over and she ran across the room, Tomlinson chasing her around the couch. He was clearly in no shape to be running and even now his face was contorted in pain.

Gina was breathing heavily too, jumping around the sofa as he gave chase. He was so severely beaten and bruised that he looked like some sort of hideously deformed mutant trying to kill her.

Jumping onto the couch, Tomlinson turned towards her, ready to pounce. Gina saw her chance and grabbing a vase from behind her, she swung it into his head as he leaped onto her. With a spine tingling crack the vase shattered and Tomlinson collapsed onto the floor, splattering the floor crimson with his bloody wounds.

He lay on the ground writhing in pain and Gina grabbed another vase and smashed that into his abdomen. She was taking no chances. With a crunch, it shattered over his lower body, and blood began leaking from his genitals. With one last hope he tried lunging at her but it was a dismal effort. Collapsing to the floor, he passed out from the pain. Gina ran into the kitchen to get more twine and tape, for now not even thinking about Pete, who may have been dead for all she knew.

Approaching the body she slowly bent down, to tie him up. A loud whistling shot through the air and she shrieked. After blinking and taking a few deep breaths, she realised it was just the kettle and turned back to Tomlinson.

Practically mummifying the old man in grey tape, she then tied up every part of him she could think of. Finally convinced she was safe, she ran back to Pete and slapped him a few times. Shaking him, she hugged him and breathed a sigh of relief as he came too. Dizzy and still groggy, Pete began rubbing the bump on his head where Tomlinson had smacked him.

“What did I miss?”

Jack walked up to the side of the derelict old building with Kim and saw Anisha approaching. She hadn't had any luck at work looking up computer records involving the second laboratory, but luckily she had been able to delegate most of the Green assignment to her lower level staff.

Her workload was light enough to let her leave the office, and presently she was meeting up outside the building with the others, to share her tale of failure. Frank had texted them all to meet here as soon as possible but the man himself had yet to turn up. While they waited, Anisha looked at Jack and Kim together and wondered if something was going on.

Her thoughts were quickly interrupted as Frank came jogging up to the building. It smelt smoggy from outside and the once red bricks were now eroded and almost maroon. Outside the shabby wooden door, Frank explained what his clue had led to.

He had found the container that the key unlocked and inside it was just one FLD. This address was the only information it contained and as he explained what had happened, he slipped on his black leather glove. Jack shook himself slightly, getting ready to meet the man responsible for these last two weeks of hell.

Without so much as a blinking, Frank kicked the door and it flew off of its hinges. Running in with his gun trained he quickly saw that the areas was empty. It was a huge, bare room with shards of glass on the floor and a single dirty window high on the far wall.