Tunnels 03, Freefall

dupe us with some dodgy stand in," Drake added. It was an outright lie because he'd only seen the old Styx at a great distance, when he was issuing orders by the edge of the Pore. "And they need to get their skates on. In forty-eight hours we put the twins out of their misery and incinerate the virus."
    Drake held up the two phials so Ben Wilbrahams could see them, then slipped them back into his pocket.
    "If the answer's yes," Mrs. Burrows said, pointing to his bras doorknocker, 'tie your wig to that. We'll see it and contact you to arrange where and when."
    Ben Wilbrahams automatically put his hand to the back of his head. "How did you kn--?"
    "Oh, come on, I've seen better rugs down the local flea market," she sneered, then spun on her heels and descended the steps. As she and Drake walked away, she called back, "Remember -- they've got forty-eight hours to get their act together."

    * * * * *

    Drake glanced at her as they drove back to the safe house.
    "We didn't rehearse half of what you said to Wilbrahams, but that was perfect. I couldn't have done better myself," he congratulated her. "Where did you learn to handle yourself like that?"
    "Oh, here and there," she shrugged, peering at a shop window full of televisions as they sped past. "But don't you think this is sailing a bit close to the wind? Now we've stirred up the hornets' nest, won't they just come at us with all they've got?"
    "Sure they will, but if we can draw their Mr. Big -- as you called him -- out into the open and nab him, that gives us a bargaining chip. At the moment we're playing with an empty hand -- we don't have the Dominion virus or the twins, but --"
    "But they don't know that," Mrs. Burrows cut in. "And what happens if they don't want to meet us?"
    "Then it will tell us they've already got the virus, and don't need us. Which is the real point of the exercise, because then we'll know we're in trouble, serious trouble."
    "I'm with you," Mrs. Burrows said, "but in the meantime I'm the shark bait," or should that be Styx bait?"

30

    "Drake, it's me. I just want you to know we've reached the deep level shelter," Will said into the black telephone in the Radio Operator's booth. As he stopped speaking, he heard a crackle in the earpiece, but otherwise there was just silence. "And please can you tell Mum..." Will's voice became uneven, and he swallowed hard, "Tell Mum I love her all the world and that I'll see her soon." Just as he was replacing the receiver, Dr. Burrows poked his head around the door.
    "I though I heard you talking to someone," he said. "What's going on?"
    "I left a message for Drake," Will replied.
    Dr. Burrows looked disappointed. "You realize that man's just using us -- all of us -- don't you? He's got you scampering around after the twins and the Dominion phials, and God knows what he's going to get Celia to do for him. He just uses people for his own questionable ends."
    "Drake's my friend. And if it wasn't for him you'd be dead by now," Will snapped, ending the exchange.

    * * * * *

    They spent the next twelve hours sorting out their equipment and getting some sleep. When they were finally ready to go, Will and Dr. Burrows pulled the massive door shut behind them, then they stopped by the electrical panel.
    Will watched the minute flicking of the needle on the main dial as his father reached for the first of the switches and swung it upwards. He did the same for the others, and the harbor was once again returned to darkness.
    "Do we really need to power it down?" Will asked.
    "Always leave a place as you'd wish to find it," Dr. Burrows replied. "You never know when you might need it again."
    As they stood side by side in the pitch black, the luminescent orb in Will's Styx lantern stirred into life, growing in radiance until the sublime green light was pouring through the lens.
    "Here we go again," Will said under his breath as he shone the beam on the back of his hand.
    As they exited the building and set off down the quay, they both had the large Bergens on their backs, which held considerably more kit than the civilian ones they had been toting around before. And despite the fact that Will was lugging two of these rucksacks, one hooked over each shoulder, and also had a sizeable holdall, his rifle and the Sten gun with him, the lower gravitational pull meant it felt as if he was carrying nothing more than a bag of feathers.
    As he thought about this, he turned to his father. "I've got that sick feeling