Jablonsky looked round at the sound.
Eddie heard his footsteps stop. He froze, pressed against the cabinets.
The steps resumed . . . coming back.
‘What’s wrong?’ Vernio called.
‘Thought I heard something.’ Jablonsky was almost at the vault. Eddie braced himself - he was going to have to fight his way out after all . . .
One of the damaged fans sparked again. Jablonsky stopped. Eddie could see his shadow. One more step and he would be found—
The guard turned away, thinking the sound was just another spark. Eddie waited until he was clear, then quietly tiptoed back to the locker where he had stashed his clothes.
The spotlight beam stabbed through the porthole. ‘Time’s up!’ the cop said through the loudhailer. ‘Get moving.’
Matt ran up on deck. ‘We’re stowing our gear! Give us a minute.’
‘Okay, you got your minute - but if you aren’t moving by the end of it, you’re coming with us.’
‘We’re moving, we’re moving!’ Matt leapt back into the cabin. The live feeds showed Eddie hurrying back to the reading area, the Codex under one arm, a bundle of clothes in the other.
‘Eddie!’ Karima cried. ‘We’re out of time!’
Eddie reached the booths. He had dumped the Codex’s case in the locker; now, he flung open the briefcase and dropped the gleaming artefact inside before pulling on his trousers over the filthy bodysuit.
‘Maintenance is on the way,’ said Vernio, putting down the phone.
‘I’ll go get Eddie.’ Jablonsky headed for the reading area.
Eddie fumbled with his jumper. No time to clean the muck off his hands—
‘Come on, move it!’ growled the cop.
Matt ran back on deck and took the controls. ‘We’re going! Jesus Christ, mate!’ He started the engine, the diesels clattering. ‘The UN’ll be narked about this!’
He pushed the button to winch up the anchor, then opened the throttle. The boat moved off, turning downstream.
In the cabin, the fibre-optic spool spun faster and faster as the line was drawn out. It caught against the porthole’s brass frame—
And snapped.
Vernio looked up sharply as the monitors flickered. Was the electrical problem spreading?
His eyes went to the visitor—
‘Yo, Eddie.’
‘Yeah?’ said Eddie, dropping into the chair just before Jablonsky entered the reading area.
‘Afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave,’ the guard said apologetically. ‘There’s an electrical problem, and we gotta clear the room while it’s being repaired. Safety rules.’
‘That’s okay, I’m finished anyway.’ He gathered the papers and put them into the files. ‘Health and safety, eh? Surprised they don’t make you wear a hard hat and a Day-Glo jacket.’
Jablonsky grinned. ‘Seems it’s getting that way, sometimes. You need a hand?’
‘Nah, I’ve got it.’ Eddie stacked everything so he could carry it with one arm, pretending that the now-empty box file was still heavy, and picked up the briefcase. ‘Okay, let’s go.’
Karima came on deck, Rad following. She looked back at the police boat. ‘That was close.’
‘Did Eddie make it?’ Matt asked.
‘He’s on his way out.’
‘Thank Christ,’ said Matt, relieved. ‘Only problem now is: how the hell am I going to explain to the Oceanic Survey Organisation that their hundred thousand dollar ROV is stuck in the UN’s basement?’
Jablonsky led Eddie back to the first locker and opened it. ‘There you go.’
‘Thanks.’ He put the box file inside, surreptitiously plucking the piece of cardboard from the lock. ‘Okay, all done.’
He stood back as Jablonsky closed the locker, waiting for him to escort him out of the archives. But the guard hesitated.
‘What’s up?’ Eddie said, as casually as he could.
‘You got something on your hand.’
He brought it up - and saw a black smear across the heel of his palm, dirt from inside the duct. ‘Huh,’ he said, wiping it on his thigh. ‘Must have smudged something.’ A smile, hopefully not looking as forced as it felt. ‘Nina’ll kill me if I’ve made a mess of some hundred-year-old document.’
After a moment, the smile was returned. ‘I won’t say anything,’ Jablonsky joked. ‘Okay, I’ll see you out.’
Eddie returned to the security station and signed out, then walked down the corridor. As soon as he was out of sight, he increased his pace towards the elevators.
Back in the archive, Jablonsky returned to the vault. He looked up at the grille to see if the faulty ventilator was still sparking. It had stopped . . . but something wasn’t right. It took a moment for him to realise what: the grille wasn’t straight, its slats not parallel to the vent’s outer edges, as if it had been lifted through the hole and turned slightly to balance on its corners. What the hell?
He was about to climb on the desk to inspect it close up when he spotted something else: a dirty mark, right on the desk’s edge. It looked like part of a footprint . . .
Horrible realisation hit him. He jumped up on the desk and reached for the overhead vent. ‘Henri! I think —’
The grille dropped at his touch. Jablonsky pulled back in shock as the ventilation unit plunged downwards, jolting to a stop when its knotted power cable snapped tight. The entire duct shook, more objects dropping out of the open vent. An empty plastic container, some kind of suction cup . . .
Someone had been in the vault. And there was only one suspect.
‘Holy shit!’ he yelled. ‘Sound the alarm! Stop Chase from leaving the building!’
Eddie was in the lobby. Briefcase in hand, he headed for the exit. The security guards on duty had their usual expressions of bored politeness; at this time of night the building was quiet. Only a few more yards . . .
Someone’s walkie-talkie crackled, a frantic voice gabbling on the other end. A moment later, an alarm bell sounded.
Eddie was already moving. He shoulder-barged the door open before the security locks could slam into place and emerged on United Nations Plaza, sprinting for First Avenue. Shouts rose behind him as guards rushed out of the Secretariat Building in pursuit.
The entrances to United Nations Plaza were controlled by traffic barriers - and tall security gates. One was open, a car having just gone though. He ran for it as it closed. Another alarm sounded in the gatehouse. The men inside jumped to their feet.
Eddie hurdled the traffic barrier - and practically dived through the outer gate as it clanged shut just behind him. Stumbling, he crossed First Avenue, cars hooting as he weaved between them and ran like hell for 44th
