‘It’s a tempting offer, Major.’ Wheeler gazed across the Thames, Parliament floodlit in the distance. ‘I don’t want to disappear. This is where I belong.’
‘Too bad. You’re about as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit, remember? Come on. We need to move.’ Jabbing Wheeler in the chest, he added, ‘If you try that again, I’ll slap a cuff on you and you can do the zombie walk the rest of the way. Got it?’
Wheeler nodded and fell in alongside him as he took a sharp turn north-east. The change in direction didn’t elicit any complaints from Wheeler. Had he got the location wrong? It didn’t matter, for now. He had another errand to run.
They continued, passing Lambeth Palace, crossing Archbishop’s Park, arriving 15 minutes later at Waterloo station. He turned to Wheeler. ‘We’re going inside. Pull your hat down. You know the drill.’
‘I thought we weren’t using public transport.’
Helix ignored him and walking alongside the taxis queueing at the edge of the station, they turned in through the small side entrance and made their way to the left luggage lockers. ‘Stand there and keep an eye out. If you see anyone approaching, call it out.’
Wheeler nodded, making a production out of looking left and right beneath the peak of his fedora.
Shielded by the door, Helix bundled the leather jacket and jeans he’d taken off back at the safe house into the locker. He closed the door, making a mental note of the number and code.
They skirted the edge of the broad terrazzo concourse, left the station via the ornate main exit, crossed York Road and hurried a short distance down Sutton Walk. Hoardings with an artist’s impression of the tower block the developers promised leaned at an unsteady angle over the path. Helix paused and scanned the foot traffic. Locating a gap in the hoardings big enough to squeeze through, he waited until a gaggle of party-goers had passed. He pointed to the gap. Wheeler ducked through. Helix followed, pulling the loose hoarding closed behind him. ‘Stay close behind me,’ he whispered, edging forward around the piles of building debris towards a short flight of steps and the main entrance of the half-built block. His thermal imaging overlay revealed nothing as he scanned ahead. Switching to night vision he froze, his hand held back to Wheeler. ‘Wait here.’
Pulling one of the multi-mode grenades from his jacket pocket, he selected EMP and the low power setting. He didn’t want to take out Waterloo or himself. The contract security bot next to the door was on standby. Helix edged forward. The movement sensors on non-military models were poor. He could get within 15 feet before it would see him. He tossed the grenade up onto the top step. The bot lurched forward, its search lights activated as the grenade rolled across the rough concrete.
The view through his night vision exploded into a cloud of white light. The blindness was brief as the grenade detonated, no more than two seconds. The lights were snuffed out. A shower of sparks erupted from the bot as its circuits fried in the electro-magnetic pulse. It went limp, slumped forward and rolled down the steps into a heap at Helix’s feet. He beckoned Wheeler out from his hiding place.
Pausing inside the half-built entrance lobby, Helix waited while Wheeler caught up. His nose twitched in the dust. He stifled a sneeze and moved towards an arch set into the central core of the building. A doorless entrance led to poured concrete stairs that climbed upwards into the dark. Helix pointed the way. ‘Up you go.’
Wheeler paused. ‘Where exactly are we going?’
‘Upstairs. Move it.’
Wheeler trudged up the stairs to the first half-landing and paused. ‘I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that you’re not even remotely warm when it comes to the—’
‘Button it,’ he said, nodding towards the next flight. This has nothing to do with your shit.’
Fifteen floors later, Helix paused. ‘That’s far enough.’ He pushed past Wheeler and out into a wide lobby. The sole source of light came from the neighbouring building. Helix found and turned on a pair of building lights, illuminating the space, the disturbed dust dancing in the light. He glanced over an orange security barrier into a lift shaft. Nudging a stone over the edge he listened to the tap, tap, tap as it plunged into the lightless abyss. Nodding, he turned away and began picking over stacks of building materials and equipment while Wheeler looked on. ‘Grab that broom,’ he said, looking at Wheeler. ‘Yes, that’s a broom. I know you’ve probably never seen one before.’
Wheeler complied, holding it out towards Helix.
‘I don’t want it,’ he said, turning away. ‘Sweep all this crap down the lift shaft. I need a space about fifteen feet square.’
Wheeler tipped his hat back on his head and went to work. ‘Part of my DIY induction, is it?’
Helix ignored him, dragging a folding chair away from the wall and centring it in the space that Wheeler had swept. ‘OK. That’ll do.’ He swung the daysack off his back and put it on the chair. ‘Leave the broom outside the swept area, we don’t want it falling over,’ he said, taking out a bag and extracting four objects.
‘What are those,’ Wheeler asked, brushing dust from the arms of his coat.
Helix stepped over to one of the corners of the swept area. ‘Demolition charges.’ He placed one of the devices, about the size of a large coffee mug, onto the floor. He did the same in each of the three remaining corners and activated them, a green halo appearing around their bases.
‘Someone’s offended your architectural taste and this is your revenge?’
‘Not exactly.’ Helix sniffed. ‘OK. That should be about right.’ He put his hands on his hips, glancing at the charges. ‘Right. Take your hat and coat off.’
Wheeler complied with a look
