Triskellion 3: The Gathering (27 page)

Laura could scarcely believe her luck. It had been her only hope but she had still been certain that her clearance would have long since been revoked. Perhaps they had simply forgotten. Perhaps they had never dreamed that she would have had the nerve to walk back into a Hope Project facility.

Whatever the reason, she was not about to question it and she hurried through the gates, her mind racing, wondering if the children were here and how on earth – now that she
was
inside – she was going to find them.

And what she would tell them when she did.

As she was walking past a block of single-storey buildings, a man in uniform rounded a corner and walked swiftly towards her.

“Doctor Sullivan?”

Laura nodded and tried to summon that relaxed smile again.

“I’ve been sent to escort you to the base commander’s office,” the airman said.

She fell into step with him. “And that would be…?”

“Major Todd Crow. He’s kind of … new.”

Laura nodded. Maybe that had been why she had found it so easy to get on to the base. Maybe this “new” commander was a little less security-minded than his predecessor.

Laura and her escort exchanged small talk as he led her into one of the low granite buildings on the base’s main square. They walked quickly through to the rear of the building, past window after window; Laura glanced into each one in the hope of catching a glimpse of Rachel or Adam. They eventually stopped outside a simple brown door. The airman knocked twice, sharply, and when the order was given to enter, showed Laura into the commander’s office.

The man behind the desk stood up. He was a little shorter than average but built like a soldier, with a broken nose and blond close-cropped hair. He stepped forward to shake her hand, and Laura found herself thinking it was unexpectedly soft in contrast to his tough militaristic appearance, with its pristine uniform and rod-straight back.

Crow sat down again and took a file from his desk. Laura saw her name and photograph at the top of the document.

It was her Hope file.

He tapped a finger against it. “Lots of good work,” he said. “Interesting research. Up until two years ago, that is. Then there’s just … nothing.”

He looked up at her. She stared back at a face that she guessed could be extremely frightening if he chose it to be. But there was the ghost of a smile there, too, and she thought she could see something vulnerable lurking beneath the brass buttons and the bravado; something sensitive even. She was probably just imagining it. Not many people moved up the ranks of the Hope Project by
caring
a great deal about anything.

“I’m not going to pry into these two missing years,” Crow said. “I know how these things work.”

Laura nodded. She sensed that it would be best to say nothing, but she was beginning to understand why she was being given such an easy ride. She knew that according to Hope protocol, those engaged in “research” were often, in reality, agents operating under “deep cover”. She was, and always had been, a scientist, pure and simple, and had since turned her back on everything Hope stood for – but those two missing years could easily be misinterpreted as time spent on a top secret assignment.

“You’ve been working on the Triskellion project,” Crow said. “With the Newman children.”

“It’s a fascinating project,” Laura said.

Crow nodded. “An important one too – one that’s very close to the director’s heart.”

“Do you know the director well?” Laura asked.

Crow shrugged. “Well enough.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m not exactly flavour of the month with our beloved leader right now. That’s why I’m here, if I’m honest.” He gave a mock grimace. “In exile…”

Laura waited, unsure how to react.

Crow slapped his palms on the desktop. “I think I’ll be back in the old man’s good books pretty soon, though.” He cleared his throat and inched forward. “You know we have the children?”

“The children?”

“I presume that’s why you came…”

“Absolutely.” Laura nodded, but the questions crashed around her head, panic and confusion rising up from her gut. What did he mean by “have the children”? How could they have been captured? And more importantly, how was she going to get them out?

Did Crow have the Triskellions? Worse, did the director already have them?

“Would you like to see them?” Crow asked. “The children? I could take you across there now, if you like…”

They walked back outside, and Crow showed her to a Jeep, explaining that it was a ten-minute walk to the cell block, which, considering the heat, was probably unwise.

He drove quickly around the perimeter of the base, the Jeep’s wheels throwing up rust-coloured clouds behind them. He shouted above the growl of the engine, telling her that he was a New Yorker and still hadn’t got used to the conditions out there in the New Mexican desert. She shouted back that she was right at home: it was like being in the Australian outback. He said he would like to visit Australia someday and she told him he would love it.

The chit-chat ceased immediately once they reached the cell block. Crow, having shown his ID to the armed guards on duty outside, was silent as they entered, signed in at a command point and then descended in a lift to the basement level.

His footsteps echoing, Crow led Laura along a corridor encased in solid steel. More armed guards were stationed every five metres or so and cameras mounted high up on the walls swivelled to track their progress as they passed.

When they arrived outside the cell where the children were being held Laura fought hard to stifle a gasp…

The doors were made entirely of a glass which Laura guessed to be several centimetres thick. She stepped up close to it and stared in at the children, who were huddled together against one metal wall in the corner of the three-metre cubed box. Their wrists were bound with plastic handcuffs and they were wearing white plastic bodysuits. Their faces looked pale and empty. Laura was wondering if it was one-way glass, when she saw Rachel glance up and notice her.

Her heart leapt in excitement and terror. She prayed that Rachel would not give the game away by looking pleased to see her. She could only hope that Rachel would read the warning in her face and not react.

Rachel just stared.

“Open it.” Crow gestured to one of the guards, who entered a code into a keypad mounted on the wall.

Adam and Gabriel looked up as the glass doors slid open, but before Laura had a chance to worry further about how they might react, she was aware of Crow close behind her, his mouth pressed to her ear.

“In you go, Doctor Sullivan,” he said. The change in his tone made it clear that this was an order, not a request. She turned to look at him, but his hand was already in the small of her back, guiding her across the threshold.

“We know exactly why you’re here,” he said. “And we’ve been waiting for you.”

A guard stepped forward and wrapped plastic cuffs round her wrists before she had a chance to struggle. Crow turned away as she was bundled into the cell.

“Now you can go and join your friends,” the guard said.

The glass doors slid shut and Laura had no choice but to walk over to join the children. She dropped to her knees when she reached them, well aware that Crow was still standing on the other side of the door, staring at them through the glass. Studying them as though they were lab-rats.

T
he Oklahoma State Penitentiary at McAlester was not designed to be pretty. Kate Newman knew that well enough, but she was still amazed at
how
breathtakingly ugly it was. It was as though every brick and barred window had somehow been infused with something rancid and poisonous; something that sucked the hope out of people and filled them with despair.

She avoided the hard stares of fellow prisoners as she was led to a table in the visitors’ centre; as she was guided to a chair and shackled to the tabletop.

“You know how this thing works?” the guard asked.

Kate nodded. She had seen it in the movies. A solid sheet of Plexiglass divided one side of the table from the other and she would only be able to talk to her visitor through a phone that was built into the divide.

Once the guard had left, Kate sat and stared at the door, waiting for her visitor. She was thinking about Rachel and Adam – and trying to keep the tears away. She thought, too, about her ex-husband, Ralph, who for reasons she could not fathom had been coming into her mind a great deal in recent days.

Perhaps it was because she was back in the US. But whatever the reason, his presence in her thoughts this often was something she had not been used to for a few years. Not since the divorce.

When they had settled down to a new life in Australia, she had made the difficult decision to sever any contact with those from their previous life. They had always known that the Hope Project would do anything to find them and that included attacking those closest to them. So how ever cruel it had seemed to keep Rachel and Adam away from their father it had been the only way to ensure his safety.

The man she had once loved, who she presumed had loved her in return, had become as good as dead to her.

It was strange, but thinking about him now, she had difficulty picturing his face clearly. She knew that these things happened as time passed, even to those with whom you were most familiar – but this felt like something else. It was not that Ralph Newman’s face had just become indistinct or blurred by failing memory – when she pictured him now, it was as if he were in shadow.

As though a darkness had fallen across his face.

And it frightened her…

The lawyer was twenty minutes late.

She watched Nick Georgiades bustle in through the door. He was a stocky man with curly black hair and stubble that stood out against a ruddy complexion. He sat and picked up the phone.

“Sorry I’m late, Ms Newman.” He was pulling papers from his briefcase and piling them up on the table in front of him. “You doing OK?”

Kate picked up her own phone – but she had nothing to say. It was not one of the lawyer’s cleverest questions.

“Yeah, the traffic out there today’s unbelievable,” Georgiades said. He was still looking flustered, trying to get his documents in order. “This weird trek people are going on… You know about that?”

“I haven’t really been keeping up with the news.”

“People are coming from all over the country.” The lawyer shook his head in disbelief. “Hundreds of thousands of them in cars, planes, boats, trains, whatever. Bicycles for Pete’s sake, or walking if they have to. All started yesterday and now every freeway’s pretty much at a standstill.”

“Where are they going?” Kate asked.

“One-way traffic all the way to New York City,” Georgiades said. “Some kind of rally for that weird cult. It’s been all over the news.”

“Like I said, I haven’t really—”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He held up a hand. “And now we really need to talk about your case. If we’re going to appeal or push for extradition, we need to get your story straight. We need to go over all the facts…”

Georgiades kept on talking, but Kate was no longer listening. She knew as soon as he had begun to describe what was happening outside, the strange journey that so many people were making, that it had something to do with the children, and with Gabriel. She had no idea what was going to happen in New York, or why – but she knew that Rachel and Adam would almost certainly be heading there too, if they were not there already.

“I need to get out of here,” she said.

The lawyer stopped speaking and stared at her for a few seconds. “Excuse me?”

“I have to get out and find my children.”

“I don’t think you quite understand, Ms Newman.” He loosened his tie. “There is no possibility of getting out. In fact, there are much more … important things to worry about.”

Kate shook her head, waving his concern away. “Look, once they find out what happened in Australia—”

“You shot a government agent.”

“He wasn’t from the
government
!” Kate shouted. “He was from the Hope Project, and he was after my children.”

Georgiades stared down at his notes. “We cannot find any evidence that this ‘Hope Project’ you keep talking about even exists or that there was ever any threat to your children. The prosecution have made it very clear that they will be seeking the maximum penalty for these offences.”

“No,” Kate said; “they’ll find out what happened.”

“You shot a man; you’ve admitted that much already.”

“They’ll see that it was an accident and they’ll drop the charges.” Kate stared through the glass and saw the worry in the lawyer’s face. Suddenly doubt flooded through her. “Won’t they?”

Georgiades did his best to sound cheerful. “There’s always hope.”

Kate swallowed back a sob. She felt every one of those ugly poisonous bricks pressing in on her. Is there? she thought.