‘Yes, Major. Keep my eyes down. Understood,’ he sighed. ‘Where are we heading?’
‘Out of the main entrance,’ Helix said, glancing over Wheeler’s shoulder. ‘Straight across and take the first on the left through the arch.’
The two cases followed at Helix’s heel, like two well behaved dogs. Emerging from between the lockers he paused and located the two police officers standing at a coffee bar, nursing steaming drinks while staring up at the rolling news on a large TV screen. Satisfied they were doing nothing other than warming up, he led the way to the exit.
The doors swept aside. The rain cascaded in sheets, rebounding from the pavement around the feet of travellers as they tiptoed around the puddles and torrents. About to step out, Helix was knocked aside by someone looking at his feet instead of where he was going. The man cannoned into Sofi, his hand sliding from her shoulder and rebounded from Wheeler who brushed his hands away. Helix lunged, grabbing two handfuls of the man’s coat. ‘Look where you’re going,’ he growled.
The man recoiled, a puzzled look on his face. ‘Hey, I know you.’ He wiped his hand across his mouth, hanging on to Helix with the other. ‘Matrix? Major Matrix, that’s it.’ He laughed, swaying away. ‘You ‘rrested me on a drugs charge.’
Helix shook him free. ‘Shut your mouth,’ he hissed. ‘You smell like you’ve just climbed out of a bottle.’
‘Gave me the ben’fit of the doubt, that was it. Put me back on the straight and narrow. Lemme buy you a drink. Come on, man. For old time’s sake.’
‘Perhaps another time,’ Helix replied, twisting a handful of the drunk’s jacket in his fist. ‘It’s raining. It’s cold. I have water pissing down my neck and have somewhere to be. Now fuck off.’ He locked eyes with the man as he attempted a salute, staggered and rebounded off the edge of the door.
The creatively named London Mews was accessed via a narrow arch from the equally creative London Street. The anonymous single-storey dwelling was hidden from the road well enough to escape the attention of the developers whom, if they’d known of its existence, might have piled at least a further ten apartments on top of it. Helix pressed his hand to the scanner and stood aside as the door opened, ushering Wheeler and Sofi inside with the roll-along luggage.
‘Nice little pied-à-terre,’ Wheeler said, shrugging off his dripping coat. ‘What’s the plan from here?’
‘Bedrooms at each end with own facilities. Kitchen in the middle and this, as you can see is the sitting room,’ Helix explained, heaving one of the cases onto a dining room table. ‘Don’t get too comfortable. We won’t be here for long.’
Wheeler pulled the curtain aside. ‘And bars on the windows. Are they to keep us in or others out?’
‘Well, we could hardly call it a safe house, if it wasn’t safe, could we?’
Sofi hung her coat, tied up her hair and sauntered into the kitchen. ‘Who wants a drink?’ she called, leaning into the fridge.
Helix watched from the corner of his eye as Wheeler joined her. ‘I’ll have a brew, thanks,’ he said, taking off his jacket and picking over the equipment.
‘Can I pour you one, Gabrielle?’ Wheeler said, holding up a bottle of brandy.
‘No, I’m going to stick with tea,’ she said, adding tea bags to two mugs. ‘A life without alcohol seems to agree with me.’ She added boiling water to the cups. ‘Just like life without you, Justin. Agreeable.’
Wheeler huffed, downing his drink in one greedy mouthful. He poured another, left it on the counter and skulked off to the bathroom. Helix moved the glass aside as he leaned back against the counter next to Sofi. She glanced up at him. ‘How am I doing?’
Helix nodded. ‘Not bad for a shrink-wrap.’
The sound of the toilet flushing came from the bedroom.
‘Really?’ she said, slinging her arms around his neck.
Helix went with the downwards pressure, his lips coming to hers. ‘I told—’
‘Just playing my part,’ she whispered, pressing her mouth to his.
Wheeler coughed from behind them. They didn’t move, remaining in the embrace as he brushed past them scooping his glass from the counter.
Helix fought the growing tingle in his trousers, wishing it was Gabrielle and not a synthetic Sharon.
‘What’s up?’ Sofi said.
‘Nothing.’ He cleared his throat. ‘We need to crack on.’ He rubbed her arms and stepped away. What was it with the arm rubbing?
‘You’re on the news, Major,’ Wheeler called from the sitting room.
Helix increased the volume, listening as the news reader voiced over footage of Julia Ormandy making a statement to Parliament.
‘Duped by a fake,’ the presenter began. ‘Julia Ormandy has been forced to climb down. The allegations against Doctor Gabrielle Stepper have been proven to be false. The Home Secretary is fighting for her political life.’
Helix muted it, took off his shoulder holsters and sat at the table. ‘Nothing we didn’t know already,’ he said, taking a gun cleaning kit from the case.
Sofi leaned against the door frame, nursing her tea.
‘Dear Julia,’ Wheeler said, his glass held up in a toast. ‘That’s the mistake people make with her.’ He took a deep draught.
‘Meaning?’ Helix said.
‘It’s when she’s at her most dangerous. She’ll come out fighting. Just you wait and see.’ He held his empty glass up to Sofi.
‘I’m not your bloody slave, Justin. Get it yourself.’ She slumped down on the chair opposite Helix.
Helix grinned, slipped one of his P226s from its holster and stripped it down, laying the parts out on a cloth. ‘Do you think she’ll ever be PM?’
Wheeler laughed. ‘More a case of when, not if.’
‘I’m surprised she didn’t jump at the chance after the wheels came off your wagon.’
‘Hmm, indeed,’ Wheeler said, leaning back on the sofa. He scratched his chin. ‘Yes. Thanks to you and your cohorts, my ambitions have – how shall I put it – have suffered a minor perturbation.’
‘Well,
