“I’m sending the schematics to your display,” Olly said. “Fire routes and service stairs are highlighted – just in case.”
Ro blinked as the schematics for the building suddenly overlaid her vision. She hadn’t often used that function of her Optik, and it was somewhat disorientating. She shook her head and pushed through the revolving doors.
It was quiet inside. Polished chrome columns rose to either side of the entrance. Long reception counters ran along the walls to either side of the security gates that allowed entry into the building proper. Olly motioned for them to wait and went behind the counters. After a few moments of hurried work, he said, “Right. The security system has been deactivated and the CCTV is looped.”
“That was quick,” Ro said, impressed despite herself.
Olly shrugged. “Not exactly MI5, is it? The system hasn’t been updated since they converted it to cTOS. A baby could crack it.”
“Take your word for it. What now?”
Olly extended his hand. “After you.”
“Wait a sec,” Danny said. He pulled out a grenade and a length of wire. He used a roll of duct tape to attach the grenade to the side of the counter, and stretched the wire from the grenade’s pin to the other side of the security gate. “Flashbang,” he said, as he worked. “Someone tries rushing through, it’ll buy us some time.”
“How many of those do you have?” Ro asked.
“A couple. Not enough.” Danny pulled out another. “I’ll set some more toys as we go up, though.” He smiled and she thought that he seemed happy for the first time since he’d come home.
Ro felt a sudden twinge of regret. She looked at Danny. “Thanks, by the way.”
“For what?”
“Coming to get me.”
He shook his head. “Didn’t do it for you. You imagine what Mum would do to me if I’d left you there?” He grinned as he said it, and when she punched his shoulder, she pulled the blow. Only just, though.
“Shithead.”
“I love you too,” he said.
“You two done?” Olly asked. “Because there’s a killer upstairs, waiting for us.”
“Luckily he don’t know that,” Ro said. She shifted the P9 in her waistband so that it was out of sight. Two lifts sat opposite the entrance, to either side of a long corridor. “I’ll take the lift,” she said, heading that way. “You two take the stairs.”
“He’ll see you,” Danny objected.
She hit the button and turned. “We want him to, don’t we?” As the doors opened, she stepped back into the lift and waved goodbye to her brother and Olly.
“Better hurry, lads. We’re on the clock.”
Red sky at night. Coyle gazed out over the London skyline, looking west. He could not help but wonder at the purpose of it all. And there was a purpose, however oblique it seemed from the outside. He’d begun to pack earlier and clean the empty offices, obliterating all physical traces of his presence. Once he was finished, he would begin moving his gear downstairs, to where his car waited. The only thing he couldn’t easily move was the drone. He hated to abandon it. It was just as well that he had other plans for it.
He smiled, pleased that his gambit had succeeded, if only at the eleventh hour. He was fairly certain he had isolated Zero Day’s signal, and that meant he could find them. Each call they made to him had brought him one step closer, and now he was certain he needed only one final contact to acquire a target and bring this affair to a satisfactory conclusion. Or at least, to make the attempt. Coyle was no fool, to proclaim victory before the final blow was struck.
He finished the last of his supplies, and disposed of the rubbish. The building was empty, having been evacuated earlier, during the excitement. Albion and others patrolled the streets, but he would have no difficulty getting past them.
He checked the drone, in preparation for what would likely be its final flight. As he was reattaching the ammunition hopper, he heard an alert chime. The sensor network he’d installed after moving in had detected something. He brought up the CCTV feeds on his display, but saw nothing. Acting on a sudden suspicion, he switched to his own cameras and saw that someone was in one of the lifts, ascending to his floor – a young woman, dressed for the street, rather out of place in this upscale environment.
As he retrieved a pistol from his bags, he considered his options. He could kill her in a moment, obviously. But he found he was curious. So instead, he waited. When the lift chimed and the doors slid open, he smiled politely. “May I help you?”
“You Coyle?” she asked, in brusque tones. East End, he guessed. A faint lilt to her voice, hinting at Caribbean antecedents.
“That rather depends, my dear. Who are you?”
“Someone looking to do some business with you,” she said. “We’ve seen what you can do with that toy of yours, and we want you to do it for us.”
“And who is us?”
“Clan Kelley, yeah?”
Coyle frowned. “Really? How did you know where to find me?”
“Tracked the GPS on Colin’s van, didn’t we?” She tapped the side of her head and circled the room like she owned it. “Wasn’t hard.”
His frown deepened. On the face of it, perfectly reasonable. “So why did you wait so long to pay me a visit?”
“Wanted to see what you were up to.” She spotted the drone and stopped. She gestured. “That it? That the thing that shot our Colin?”
“Yes. I hope he wasn’t a friend of yours.”
“Just a driver,” she said, but he could hear the lie in her voice. “Ten a penny, them. Out of curiosity, who hired you to do it?”
“I’m sure you understand that I cannot divulge that information.”
She shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“How do you know my name?”
“We know a lot?”
“By ‘we’ you mean Clan Kelley?”
“Who else would I mean?”
He studied her
