Newton’s Fire

THIRTY-FOUR
I

Croke arrived at St Paul’s to find it the heart of a perfect storm. Scores of police officers in fluorescent bibs were struggling to hold back a crowd of sightseers, thousands strong, while media helicopters swarmed above and windows and roofs sparkled with flash photography. Their driver bumped the Range Rover up onto the front plaza and parked beneath a police canopy. Walters was waiting inside the cathedral. ‘Nice work,’ said Croke acerbically.

‘We were unlucky,’ said Walters. ‘If the little brat hadn’t turned up trailing all those police …’

Morgenstern held up his hands to stop them. ‘I can’t hear this,’ he said. ‘I’ll go check the crypt, see how the scanning’s coming along.’

‘I’ll join you in a minute,’ said Croke. He waited till he was gone, turned back to Walters. ‘What’s the damage?’

‘Could have been worse,’ said Walters, leading him up a spiral staircase. ‘The police wanted to speak with Luke and Rachel, make sure they were okay. We told them that they were wanted in connection with a planned atrocity, which was why they’d been trying to escape; and that the NCT insisted on talking to them before anyone else. But holding them off was still touch and go until your mate got on the case. I don’t know who he is, but Jesus he’s got some pull. He yanked the police out of there like they were on a string.’

‘Good.’

‘Yes. But they saw us with them. If anything happens to them now …’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Croke.

‘We could go down for life,’ said Walters. ‘How are we supposed not to worry?’

‘Did the police see our two friends up close? Close enough to identify?’

‘No.’

‘And neither of them have family to kick up a fuss should they disappear, right?’

‘The girl’s got a brother,’ said Walters.

‘I thought you told me he was in a wheelchair.’

‘So?’

‘So no one will listen to him, will they?’

Walters shrugged grudgingly. ‘What about those two from the museum? Redfern and the curator? People will listen to them.’

‘We’re still holding them,’ said Croke. ‘Shunting them from jurisdiction to jurisdiction. Something tragic is about to happen to them, I can just sense it. Then we can take care of our two friends and leak it that they escaped. Dispose of them properly and everyone will take it for granted that they’re simply on the run. You can arrange that, right?’

They reached the top of the stairs and crossed a gallery. Pete was standing guard outside a door that he opened at their approach. There was a vast model of a cathedral inside, and Luke and Rachel cuffed to neighbouring radiators. Kieran was keeping an eye on them, and Kohen was there too, his arms folded and his mouth a sulky bow. ‘You promised they wouldn’t come to any harm!’ he protested, coming to the door.

‘And they haven’t,’ said Croke.

‘Only because I-’

‘Shut it,’ said Croke. ‘This is man’s work. If you’re not up to it, perhaps we should let your uncle know.’

‘I didn’t say that. I just said-’

‘Good. Then come with me. He wants you downstairs.’

‘I’m not leaving them. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust any of you.’

‘Suit yourself. But then you’ll have to tell him it was your own choice, okay?’ He waited for a grudging nod, turned to Kieran. ‘You’re the electronics’ expert, right? I need some advice.’ They left the room together. Croke briefed him as they made their way to the steps. ‘The guys downstairs are going to be filming for the White House to watch live. They’ve agreed to share the feed with us, so that our friends in Israel can watch too. But they won’t give us audio. The thing is, I need audio. I need their voices. Otherwise all I’ll have is footage of a bunch of guys with flashlights.’

Kieran bit his lip. ‘I could maybe hack their system if you got me time alone with it,’ he said. ‘Maybe. But if I were them, I wouldn’t let that happen, not for a millisecond. Not with the White House on the other end.’

‘Then what do you suggest?’

‘Easiest thing, I fix you up with a buttonhole camera and mike. Won’t be as good as a primary feed, but it’ll hear everything you hear.’

‘Have you got the kit?’

‘In the office. It’s only a stone’s throw.’

‘Then go fetch it. And get passports for yourself and the others while you’re at it. Preferably not in your real names. You’ve got spares, right?’

‘Of course,’ nodded Kieran. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Israel,’ said Croke.