Bolton, J. - Now You See Me

‘Move slowly and stay together,’ I said.

‘Wait,’ insisted Joanna. ‘She can see in the dark. She has some sort of night-vision equipment. She can still see us.’

A hand was on the back of my neck, pushing my head down. ‘Stay low and move fast.’ Joesbury’s mouth brushed against my ear. ‘Go now.’

I didn’t need telling twice. Bent almost double, one hand keeping contact with the brick wall on my left, the other holding fast to Joanna, I moved as fast as I dared. From the gallery she’d been standing on, Llewellyn couldn’t access the horse tunnel. She’d have to head north along the length of the gallery, make her way across the width of the building and into the boiler room where I’d found Joanna. Only then could she follow us down this, the more easterly of the two galleries. If Joanna was right and Llewellyn could see in the dark, she’d be able to move a lot faster than we could. On the other hand, we had a head start.

It was impossible to move at that speed and stay quiet, so we didn’t. Three sets of footsteps thumped along the wooden slats, making it impossible to hear if anyone was gaining on us. Somehow, I made myself keep moving when there was nothing but blackness ahead of me. At the end of the gallery I stopped to get my breath back.

‘Get moving,’ came Joesbury’s voice out of the darkness. Upright again, I turned into the tunnel. Ten feet along it and I had a choice. Turn left and make our way into the vaults of the old goods shed, heading back the way I’d come in, or go straight on and within minutes be at the metal gate that opened on to the towpath. If we could get through it, we’d be safe immediately. If we couldn’t, we’d be caught like rats in a pipe.

Too risky. I went left, just as Joesbury tried his radio again. No luck.

The basement of the goods shed was a hundred metres long and the only way to get safely across it in pitch blackness was by following the south wall.

It seemed to take for ever. Realistically, it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. At one point Joanna slipped and fell headlong into a pool of something that smelled vile. When we pulled her out, we had a hard job persuading her to get moving again. Then there was a grunt and a squeal.

‘I’ve got her,’ said Joesbury. ‘Firemen’s lift. Let’s go.’

I set off again, screamingly slowly, one hand on the wall, the other on Joesbury’s arm. The ground was treacherous in here. Fallen bricks, holes in the concrete, debris scattered around, every step had to be taken with care.

‘Lacey, hold it,’ said Joesbury, when I judged we were about ten metres from the next stretch of tunnel. ‘Listen.’

Silence. Then the soft plinking sound of something falling into water.

‘We have to move,’ I said.

Silence for another second. The sound of Joanna’s breath like tiny sobs. Then, ‘Go on then,’ said Joesbury. ‘Slow and quiet. I think we may have company.’

We made it to the next stretch of tunnel. It was less than thirty metres long. I think I actually started to hope. The vaults beneath the forecourt of the interchange warehouse weren’t more than the length of my garden at home. There would be light in there. And that jump into the canal was going to feel very good this time.

As we entered the warehouse vaults, the blackness all around us was weakening, becoming greyer. I could make out pillars, the reflection of water at our feet, and an orange glow at the far end, where the light from a canal-side lamp could just about seep into the building.

‘Hi.’

We stopped. Llewellyn was about five metres ahead of us, had just stepped out from behind an archway footing. The night-vision goggles had been pushed on to the top of her head. In her left hand she carried a torch that she switched on now. In her right, she still had the gun. If it was a replica, we were safe. She was no match for Joesbury. Not even for me. But if it wasn’t …

I stepped in front of him and faced her. Behind, I heard Joanna being lowered to the ground. Then Joesbury’s hands were on my shoulders.

‘Out of the way, Lacey,’ he said, trying to pull me behind him. I wasn’t moving.

‘She won’t shoot me,’ I said, without taking my eyes off Llewellyn. ‘It’s over,’ I told her. ‘You heard what he said. There are police at every exit.’ I stopped and took a deep breath. ‘I’ll stay with you,’ I went on. ‘Just let Mark and Joanna—’

I didn’t get chance to finish. At that moment, poor, terrified Joanna Groves made a run for it. Without thinking, I dived after her and gave Llewellyn a clear shot. I saw her raise her arm and then there was an explosion that sounded like the roof had fallen in. I turned back in time to see Mark jump forward as if he’d been scalded. I think I must have closed my eyes because when I looked again, he was on the ground.

A split second later I was with him. He’d fallen against a pillar and had collapsed into a sitting position. Llewellyn’s torch focused on him and I could see a pool of blood spreading across the right side of his sweatshirt. His eyes were still open. There was a scuffling sound behind and then Joanna was flung on to the ground beside us.

‘Handcuff her,’ Llewellyn told me. ‘Quick. There isn’t much time.’

Mark didn’t have much time. His body was trembling and each breath sounded like it was whistling through a blocked pipe.

‘I’m sorry,’ I mouthed, before reaching into the left pocket of his jacket and taking out the cuffs. More blood poured out of the wound on his chest. I pulled my jacket off and pushed it against the blood flow, then lifted both his hands and put them against the wound too.

All the time, Llewellyn hadn’t taken her eyes off us and the gun was still raised. Pointing at Mark. Behind her, Joanna Groves was crouched, shivering and sobbing, against another pillar. I crossed to her quickly, pulled unresisting arms behind her back and slipped the handcuffs on. Then I ran back to Mark and touched the side of his face. Already it felt far too cold. I turned back to the girl with the gun.

‘Please don’t let him die,’ I begged her.

She dropped her head on to one side as she looked at us with something like interest in her eyes. Then she crouched down and fumbled around in the shadows.

‘Guess that’s up to you now,’ she said, as she stood and held out something that gleamed in the torchlight. ‘Brought a spare,’ she went on, holding the knife out towards me. It looked exactly like the one that had arrived by post at my flat the day before.

I’d been holding Mark’s hand, but I let it go now. There wasn’t going to be an easy way out of this.

‘Thought you might,’ I replied, getting to my feet. The place couldn’t possibly be surrounded by armed police, as Mark had claimed. He’d never have been allowed to come in here by himself. He’d gone AWOL, just as I had. We were on our own. Mark had taken a stupid risk because he’d wanted to believe in me and it was going to get him killed.

‘I’ve got a car parked by the canal,’ Llewellyn said to me. ‘We can still make it.’ She held the knife out towards me. Her grip on the gun hadn’t faltered.

‘Let’s go now,’ I said, knowing that the minute we left him, Mark would be able to summon help. We were barely any distance underground here, both his radio and his phone would work.

‘Job to do first,’ Llewellyn replied, glancing over towards Joanna Groves, who hadn’t looked at anything but the knife since Llewellyn had produced it. As I took the weapon, she started to cry. On the other side of me, Mark’s breathing sounded like an old pair of bellows. I looked into turquoise eyes that had gone dark with pain and knew I had a very simple choice.

If I killed Joanna and fled with Llewellyn, the police might arrive in time to get Mark the help he needed. If I refused, we’d stay down here as hostages and he would die.