Tunnels 04, Closer

make riding their motorbikes the easiest of tasks.
    They parked in the same place in St. Anne's Street. "Onwards and downwards," Drake said, as he collected a rifle case from the back of his bike. Then they walked the short distance to the alleyway that would take them through to Dean's Yard. They were identically dressed in Noddy suits, with thick hooded jackets and trousers of a matching color. This, combined with the climbing rope and the other equipment they were carrying, gave them more than a passing resemblance to a pair of mountaineers setting out on a new challenge. Not exactly what you'd expect to see on the approach to Westminster Abbey at any time of day, let alone at that hour of the morning.
    Not surprisingly, the porter burst into action the moment he laid eyes on them. "Stop right there!" he ordered, hurrying straight for them with his palms raised. He was just about to grab hold of Eddie when the Styx repeated his trick. As he uttered the trigger words, the porter's face went blank, all concern erased from it. Then the hefty man simply swung round on his heels and, tucking his hands into his pockets, wandered nonchalantly back into the empty square.
    "Good thing old Frankie was on duty again tonight," Drake whispered, putting his pistol away as he watched the transformed porter.
    Making their way through to the small trap door, Drake and Eddie readied themselves for the long trek down to the forgotten city far below London. As they negotiated the numerous flights of brick steps and jogged along kilometer after kilometer of the straight passageways, neither of them spoke, their boots drumming a regular tattoo on the damp flagstones.
    When they came to the start of a circular stairway, its treads running with water and treacherously slippery, they broke off to carry out the usual routines any soldier would before going into the field. They checked each other for 'flashing' -- anything reflective that might give them away if it caught the light -- and then they jumped up and down several times on the spot as they did the similar 'rattle test', to insure their Bergens and belt kits were packed properly.
    Drake extracted the two rifles from the case he'd been carrying, handing one to Eddie. As with their pistols, these weapons only fired tranquilizer darts, and Drake had fitted night scopes to both of them. Last of all, they donned their gas masks and turned on their throat mikes.
    "Once more into the breach, dear friend, once more," Drake said, speaking in a whisper as he tested the radio link.
    Eddie turned to him, his dark pupils barely visible through the eyepieces of his mask. "Yes, receiving you loud and clear," he acknowledged.

    * * * * *

    Contrary to what Drake had said, Chester hadn't slept a wink. And the instant Drake and Eddie left the flat, he emerged into the main room and went over to the bank of CCTV monitors. He watched as the two of them wheeled their motorbikes out onto the street, then mounted them and took off into the night.
    "Right... things to do," he said to himself, as he sat on the sofa with the mobile phone Drake had given him. His hands were shaking with excitement as he called the number in the memory. His father answered on the first ring.
    "Chester -- thank God!" Mr. Rawls blurted.
    Chester sat bolt upright -- it was obvious something was wrong. "Dad, what is it? Drake told you to expect my call, didn't--"
    "Yes, yes," his father babbled. "But your mother -- she's gone."
    "What do you mean, gone ? Chester said. "Gone from the room?"
    "Worse than that -- gone from the hotel."
    "Are you sure?" Chester pressed him.
    "Yes, I've been down to the lobby to check. I know Drake told us not to step outside the room for anything, but I had to... I spoke to the concierge, and he said he saw Emily leave the hotel, via the main entrance. She just walked straight out."
    "But why would Mum do that?" Chester asked. "She knew how important it was that she stay hidden."
    "Yes, of course, we both did. But she was acting strangely yesterday -- she wasn't herself at all. Then after Drake dropped by in the afternoon, she seemed to accept that he had to speak to me in private... and that I couldn't tell her what it was about... it was on a... you know... how does Drake put it?"
    "It was on a need to know basis," Chester helped him. "Don't worry -- Drake does the same with me --it's in case the Styx get hold of you and make--"
    "Last night she went very quiet again," Mr. Rawls interrupted. "It