Tunnels 04, Closer

breath. "Bloody toffs. It's all right for some, while I'm stuck here all night freezing my brass monkeys off."
    As he carried the front of the trunk, Chester glanced over his shoulder at his father. "Nicely handled, Dad, but Rupert? Rupert ? What made you pick that name?" he whispered.
    "It had to begin with an R and, anyway, that's what I wanted to call you when you were born. Always thought Rupert Rawls sounded rather good," Mr. Rawls replied, then shook his head. "But your mother wouldn't hear of it."
    "I'm bloody glad she stopped you. Good old Mum," Chester said, filled with concern as he thought about her. "I just hope she's okay."
    Chester had no problem in recognizing the doorway Drake had described to him, and they carried the trunk inside. They made their way directly to the second door, which led down to the cellar.
    "Don't we need a key for this?" Mr. Rawls asked as he saw the lock.
    "No. Drake said he'd take care of it," Chester replied, placing a hand on the old wooden door and pushing. As it swung inwards, he glanced at where the bolt from the mortise lock should have engaged in the door frame. "Sometimes the simplest solutions are the best ones," Chester whispered, recalling Drake's words as he'd taken him through the plan. Chester prised out the small metal wedge Drake had inserted in the gap in the faceplate, and pocketed it.
    Mr. Rawls nodded. "He must have been here earlier and jammed it open?"
    Chester winked at his father. "Just make sure it doesn't shut behind us, or you'll never get out of this place," he warned him.
    They took the trunk down the steps and to the end of the cellar, where they placed it out of sight behind the packing crates. Chester turned to his father. "That's it, Dad. Drake doesn't want you to see any more, just in case..."
    "Yes, I know, I know -- in case I'm abducted again," Mr. Rawls guessed. He gave his son a desolate look. "Chester, I'm not cut out for this. Most of my life has been spent behind a desk, working on actuarial reports. And I'm so worried about your mother, I can hardly think about anything else." He sighed forlornly. "I know I'll never be any good at this cloak and dagger stuff. And I don't know how you can do it."
    "Okay, Dad, can we talk about this later?" Chester said, feeling terrible that he was cutting his father short. "I've got a schedule to keep."
    "Yes, of course," Mr. Rawls replied resignedly. "And are you absolutely sure I can't do anything more for you? I feel like a fifth wheel."
    "You've done more than enough already, Dad. You'll help me if you just go back to the warehouse and wait for us there," Chester said. "Soon as I see Drake I'll tell him about Mum."
    "All right, son," Mr. Rawls mumbled.
    Chester watched as his father turned to go out of the cellar, ambling between the crates with his head hung miserably. He looked so fragile and vulnerable, and Chester realized how protective he felt toward him. It was as if the parent-child relationship had been completely reversed, and now Chester was the one who had to look after him, and tell him what to do.
    And much as Chester wished there was something he could do to take the sadness away from his father, there wasn't, and he couldn't let what had happened with his mother make him lose focus. Not now.
    Opening the trunk, he took the rifle and belt kit from the top. Next he lifted out two heavy Bergens by the shoulder straps, and put them to one side. "They weigh a ton -- wonder what Drake's got in them?" he asked himself, the shook his head, grumbling, "Need to know basis," several times. "I never really liked Noddy," he announced to the empty cellar, as he reached in to get the NBC suit that lay in the very bottom of the trunk.

    * * * * *

    It took Drake and Eddie a good two hours to make their way around the weed-covered margins. They both planted the last of their canisters and then rendezvoused as they'd arranged.
    "That's our way in," Eddie said over the radio, as he and Drake approached the thick wall that encircled the city. Drake saw where he meant; massive blocks of masonry had collapsed, leaving an opening through which a large windowless building the size of an aircraft hangar was visible. Drake would have had reservations about cutting straight through the city without Eddie to guide him, but the Styx knew its layout, and it was the most direct route back to where they'd entered the cavern.
    Once through the opening, they dropped into a water-filled culvert. As they began to move