Alex Scarrow - City of Shadows

She nodded. ‘OK… he’s called Liam, I know that much.’

‘Liam O’Connor,’ said Faith. ‘We already know this.’

‘And he’s from Ireland,’ added Kaydee-Lee.

‘Tell me, Kaydee-Lee… is he alone? Or perhaps with some others?’

Her hesitation gave her away. She was holding something back. ‘Come on, Kaydee-Lee, we need to know about this young man. Lives… a lot of innocent lives could be at stake.’

‘Lives?’ Her face was flushed fully crimson now. ‘Seriously?’

Cooper decided to buy a little of her trust. ‘I’ll level with you, Kaydee-Lee. What I’m about to tell you is top secret and goes no further, do you understand?’ She nodded.

‘We have reason to believe this Liam is part of a terror cell that was based in New York and quite possibly involved in some way with what happened there in September. Do you understand? Perhaps they were part of a planning team, or coordinators or a back-up team. We don’t know precisely what their involvement was yet.’

‘But… but… he… doesn’t look like one of them.’

Them. By that she meant an Arab. A Muslim.

‘We have enemies that come in all shapes and sizes these days, I’m afraid.’ Cooper recalled a rather colourful turn of phrase he’d heard President Bush use during a press conference the other day. ‘There’s an axis of evil out there, Kaydee-Lee, a coalition of bad groups all working together to topple our country: the Taliban, Al Qaeda, Iran, Iraq, China, North Korea. Even the IRA. Bad guys, Kaydee-Lee, all of them. Hell, we’ve even got our own American citizens working against us… White Supremacists, Nation of Islam, Anti-capitalists, Anarch-’

‘Did you just say IRA?’ She swallowed anxiously. ‘IRA? That’s those Irish ones, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right.’ Cooper nodded slowly. ‘That’s exactly right. So… he may have been using you, Kaydee-Lee.’

A tear began to well up in one eye, then spilled down her cheek. ‘I thought he was being friendly.’ Her mouth began to quiver. ‘I… I thought he, you know, actually liked me.’

Cooper reached for a napkin further along the counter and passed it to her.

‘It’s possible he was using you, Kaydee-Lee. Using you to get some local information.’ Cooper reached for her hand and guided the napkin to mop up some mascara that had smudged.

‘And listen…’ His voice softened. ‘Maybe he also liked you, Kaydee-Lee. He may be a terrorist, but that doesn’t stop him being human, right?’

She dabbed at her eyes miserably, nodded. She sniffed, her chin dimpled and her bottom lip curled as she tried to stifle a sob. ‘But I really like… liked him. He wasn’t like the others that come in. Truckers, creepy old men… always trying to hit on you an’ stuff. He’s, like,’ she corrected herself, ‘he was, like, a… well, a real gentleman.’

‘That is men for you. They are all the same,’ said Faith without a hint of warmth or empathy in her voice. Cooper turned to look at her. Where the heck did she get that from? She was a robot, wasn’t she? Not some agony aunt. He figured she must have picked it up from some daytime TV show. Oprah or something.

Kaydee-Lee whispered pathetically, ‘Everyone ends up using me.’

‘Kaydee-Lee.’ Cooper held her hand. She didn’t flinch at that. It was vaguely comforting to have someone reach out for her, even if he did look like some kind of pale-skinned lizard wearing a Men in Black suit.

‘Kaydee-Lee… we need to know a little bit more about Liam. Was it just him? Were there others? Can you tell me?’

She dabbed at her eyes, wiped her nose dry, straightened her shoulders and did her best to put on a calm, totally-in-control face, just like the scary-looking FBI lady over the counter from her. She wondered what it would be like to be like her, so incredibly ice-cool. Kaydee-Lee could only imagine how wonderful it would be to be just like this agent lady: elegant, confident, disciplined, ruthless. She bet no one ever used her.

‘Miss?’

The woman stirred. ‘Yes?’

‘Is it, like, really hard to become an FBI agent? Could someone, you know, someone like me ever become one? Could I end up like you?’ she asked hopefully.

The woman exchanged a glance with her partner. It looked like he was giving her permission to go ahead and answer the question. Her grey eyes disappeared for a moment behind flickering eyelids, then finally she answered. ‘No. That is extremely unlikely.’

That figures. Kaydee-Lee sighed. I’ll be a waitress till the day I die.

Cooper looked like he was getting impatient. ‘Kaydee-Lee? Were there others? Can you tell me?’

She nodded. ‘Oh yeah, I can tell you. There were others all right. They wanted a place to go an’ hide up. They said they wanted somewhere quiet and private.’ She raised two pairs of fingers and air-quoted. ‘Somewhere where they could go and do their stupid science experiments.’

9 October 2001, Green Acres Elementary School, Harcourt, Ohio

Liam and Sal vanished from their tape-marked squares with a soft pop. They were now back in Victorian London on 14 December 1888 with Bob and SpongeBubba. At least Maddy hoped they were.

She was a hundred per cent sure the recently rewritten displacement software was error free. OK, perhaps not a hundred per cent, but gosh-darn as close as it’s possible to be with hastily written computer code.

Just the three of them left here in the derelict school classroom now: her, Rashim and Becks. She looked round the room one last time. There was nothing left that they’d forgotten to send through. All they’d be leaving behind was a small pile of empty tin cans, plastic noodle pots and polystyrene coffee cups, a cheap sleeping bag that had popped its seam and spilled white stuffing, and a pair of extra-large size trainers for Bob that had proven to be still too small for him.

‘This is it, then,’ she said. ‘Goodbye, 2001.’

‘You sound sad,’ said Rashim.

‘Guess I am… a bit. This place has been my home, hasn’t it? Well, at least this time, this year, has been my home since…’ She smiled, stopping herself. ‘I was going to say, “since I got recruited”. But actually 2001 has been my only real home. It’s the year in which I was grown and birthed.’ She laughed. ‘It’s the year in which I’ve lived my entire false life so far.’

Rashim shook his head and tutted. ‘You shouldn’t think like that. It does you no good, Maddy.’

‘Relax. It’s not self-pity.’ She shrugged. ‘I think I’ve got used to the idea I’m nothing but a meat product.’

‘You are not a product. You are Miss Madelaine Cartwright…’

‘Carter.’

‘Sorry,’ he said, wincing, ‘ Carter. Even if someone invented you, came up with your life story, conjured up your name… you’re still a real person. You are a person. Just as real as any other, as real as I am. Do you see?’

Her eyes moistened. ‘Oh, that’s a really beautiful thing to say, Rashim.’ She bit her bottom lip. ‘So very beautiful.’

He looked surprised. Perhaps even hopeful. ‘Really?’

‘No.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Slightly cheesy if anything.’ She punched his arm playfully. ‘But it was nice of you to say it.’ She turned round. ‘How are we doing over there, Becks?’

The support unit was studying a display on the monitor. ‘The displacement machine is nearly ready to discharge again, Maddy. Ninety-six seconds.’

‘You understand what to do once we’re gone?’

‘Affirmative. I will move the displacement machine into one departure marker, and I will stand in the other. I will displace alongside the machine.’

‘And?’

‘And?’ Becks cocked her head. ‘And… if there is a translation error I will ensure the machine and myself are destroyed.’