Trust Me

42

The cameras in Drummond’s kitchen had been destroyed in the hail of Snow and Mouser’s gunfire, so the watchers – the boss, the scarred Frenchman and Aubrey – had to settle for a satellite view of the Quicksilver building. They’d seen Luke and Drummond retreat to the roof, vanish into the hatch, then saw Mouser and Snow come onto the roof and disappear back into the building moments later.

Aubrey made a horrified noise in her throat.

The computer screens were set up in a corner of the hold, and Aubrey could hardly hear what was said over the drone of the engines. They’d given her drugs, first to make her sleep, then to make her talk, or so she suspected. She’d been laying on a cot, staring at the gray ceiling, when the boss had come and pulled her up and made her speak to Luke on the phone.

Luke was alive. But the boss told her what to say and she said it. Then she saw and heard the tat-tat-tat of the bullets in the kitchen, then nothing.

The boss pushed Aubrey away from the black screen.

‘You have to help Luke,’ she said. ‘Please.’ She felt hazy from the drugs.

The boss ignored her. ‘Response from the security team?’

‘None,’ the scarred Frenchman said. ‘We have to assume the ground floor gunmen killed them.’

‘Drummond?’

‘Not answering. I imagine he’s busy.’

‘Access the building’s computer systems. Wipe everything clean. What can you install in its place to soften the police inquiry?’

‘We have a backup story: the building is a prototype, being built to test security technologies for sale. We will wipe and then reinstall data to that effect.’

‘Fine. Keep it simple.’ The Frenchman began his work.

‘That’s not helping them!’ Aubrey yelled.

The boss looked at her. ‘I know. Go back and lay down. We’ll be landing soon.’ The old cargo plane creaked and Aubrey looked past the man’s shoulder. On the satellite feed that monitored the building, glass shimmered as a large desk burst through a third-story window.

‘Luke?’ Aubrey said.