Olly turned back to escalator. Went down. Adrenaline bled out of him, and he was left on autopilot. The next thing he knew, he was on the East London Overground to Shadwell. He sat back, and watched the city pass in greys and browns. He tried to think, but his brain refused to work. All he could think about was the sound of the shot – the same sound. The same sound, and two people dead, in as many days.
He thought about Liz, imagined her face going slack the way Dempsey’s had. His stomach heaved, and he wanted to vomit, but there was nothing in him but Haribos and coffee. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his midsection and squeezed.
When the train finally stopped at Shadwell, he stumbled off, head bowed, hands in his pockets. He bumped into several commuters, paying no attention to any of them. It wasn’t crowded, but there were still too many people for his tastes. Too many drones. He kept waiting for the UCAV to drop down, to put a round through him as he sat on the train. But he saw nothing. Heard nothing, save the beep of unanswered calls on his display. Bagley or Krish, trying to get in touch. He couldn’t muster the energy to answer them.
Part of him wanted to just ride the train to the terminus and back again. To wait and see what happened. Full lucidity didn’t return until the DLR train from Shadwell kicked into motion, jolting him on his uncomfortable seat. Olly’s eyes instinctively flicked to the cameras that were in every train car these days. He knew his program was still running, even if his external unit was in pieces. But it made him itch nonetheless.
He scrubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and forced himself to sit up. He had six minutes until he reached Limehouse. And then what? Liz was the one in charge. She was the one who’d known what to do. Without her – what?
His eyes went to the cameras again. A thought occurred to him. Six minutes until Limehouse. Six minutes was forever, if you knew what you were doing.
“Bagley?” he murmured.
Oliver. Back with us?
“Yeah. What do I do now?”
That is up to you. I would recommend getting back to the hideout as quickly as possible. Things have been afoot in your absence, and the others are waiting to debrief you.
“Others?”
The great and the good. DedSec London has lost one of its own, and they want answers. That means you, Oliver.
“You tell ’em,” he said, pulling out Liz’s Optik. An older model, but still functional. “I think I’ve got something more important to do.”
Care to fill me in?
“The camera. The one we found in the flat. I was trying to back-trace the signal when things… started happening. The app was still running when my external unit got smashed. But Liz’s will work just fine for what I have in mind.”
You intend to track down Tell.
“Got it in one,” Olly said.
And what about the drone?
“I’ll risk it. Everything we’ve found is on the cloud. If something happens…”
I’ll see that it gets to the right people, Oliver.
“Thank you.” He paused. “What about… what about Liz? We’re not going to just leave her there, are we?”
Arrangements will be made. DedSec has connections everywhere.
“We’re all part of the Resistance in our own way,” Olly said.
Exactly. What are you planning, Oliver? Tell has gone to a lot of trouble to obscure his location. I can’t imagine he’ll be pleased to see you.
“That’s his tough luck.” The train began to slow. Olly slipped Liz’s Optik into his pocket and stood. He knew where to go now. No telling what was waiting for him at the other end. But he’d deal with it when he got there.
And if things turn nasty?
“I’ll do what Liz would do,” he said, softly. “I’ll improvise.”
23: Betrayal
“Are you sure this is the place?” Holden asked, as he peered up at the warehouse in puzzlement. “Not that I was expecting anything different, mind.”
Ro grunted and shoved him towards the door. When she’d made the call, Billy Bricks had answered, and told her to meet them at the same East End warehouse as last time. There was no one on the door, and the place was busy when they went inside. Pallets of product were being moved out to trucks and transit vans, and nothing was coming in to replace it.
Billy met them inside the door. “This him, then?” he asked, looking Holden up and down. “This the fellow with the shooters for sale?”
“All that and more, if you can get me out of the country,” Holden said. Ro pushed past him and looked around.
“What’s going on?”
Billy smiled. “Moving operations to a new location. Only temporarily of course.” He patted her cheek. “Proper job, Rosemary. Not quite what we were looking for, but good all the same.”
Ro shoved his hand away. “Am I sorted, then?”
“Depends on what this one has to say for himself, don’t it?” Billy turned and crooked a finger. “Follow me.”
He led them back through the rapidly emptying warehouse to the office. As before, Mary Kelley was waiting for them. She wasn’t alone, this time. The Godfreys were there as well. “Saul. Reggie,” Ro said. They nodded back in reply.
Mary was sitting at her desk, playing with her knife. “Well now. This isn’t exactly what I asked for, is it now?” she said, when Billy closed the door behind them.
Ro made to speak, but Holden beat her to it. “I know what you want to know, and I can get you guns, bombs, whatever you want, on top of that.”
“Information and explosives – two of our favourite things, eh, Billy?”
“Indeed they are, mum,” Billy said, leaning against the door. Ro looked at him, and then at the Godfreys. Neither Saul nor Reggie met her gaze. Something was up. Why were they emptying the warehouse today?
She turned her attention back to Mary, and found the other
