Tunnels 04, Closer

penetrated deeper into the arched cavern.
    "If all goes according to plan, I might need another vehicle soon," Drake said, as they passed through into a combined office and storeroom, with boxes of car components stacked high around a table with a telephone on it.
    "Somethin' sporty this time?" the man inquired. "Somethin' with a bit of oomph?"
    "Nope, a plain vanilla estate would do me fine. A high-mileage family car -- like a BM or Merc. And untraceable, of course, just like the Range Rover," Drake replied.
    "No problem. Leave it to me, mate," the man confirmed, as they entered a dimly-lit room with lockers in it.
    On a crate, in a crumpled pile, Chester spotted something familiar. "My school uniform!" he exclaimed. "What's that doing here?"
    The man unlocked another door at the end of the locker room and thrust it open. From the echoes it sounded as though there was a much larger space beyond. As he passed the key to Drake, he said, "I'll leave you to get on with your bus'ness, Mr. Jones."
    "It's Smith," Drake corrected him. "The name's Smith."
    "Sorry, yes, Mr. Smith ," the man chuckled, flashing his gold incisor again. "And I'll keep my eyes peeled. If any strangers come by, "I'll sound the buzzer. Right-oh?"
    "Cool. Thanks," Drake confirmed. After the man had left, Drake turned to Chester, who was hovering by his school uniform. "I want you to put that lot on. Then come and join me."
    "But why?" Chester said. As he lifted his blazer to look at the gray trousers beneath it, several large photographs slipped to the floor. The uppermost one was a copy of the family picture taken in the pod on the London Eye, which he'd seen for the first time when he had tried to go home. And another was of the HighfieldHigh School football team, featuring a much younger Chester in his goalie uniform. "And Drake, why are these here?" he asked.
    "Oh, yes, bring them with you too," Drake replied.
    Chester was becoming very uncomfortable with the situation. "Can't you tell me what's going on? My school clothes... these pictures -- this is all a bit freaky."
    "Just keep calm, and do precisely what I tell you," Drake answered. "It'll be okay, I promise you."
    "I suppose," Chester agreed uneasily. As he picked up his blue-and-green striped school tie, it was as though he was holding something from a different lifetime.
    Drake went through the door and closed it behind him.
    "Completely hat stand," Chester muttered, as he began to get changed. Now he was alone, he felt a hollowness in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea what Drake had in store for him -- from his brief glimpse of the next room, it was ominously dark in there. And as he got ready as quickly as he could, it didn't help that he caught odd noises coming from the room -- some shouting, then the sound of something being dragged across the floor. He'd grown since he'd last worn the uniform -- the trousers were ridiculously short and difficult to do up at the waist, and the blazer hardly fitted across the shoulders. Walking a little like a Frankenstein monster in the tight clothes, he went to the door and knocked on it, before gingerly pushing it open. Then he entered.
    "Come in," Drake bade him from the shadows.
    The space was large -- it was surprising how far back the cavern reached -- but Chester couldn't gauge its full length, because there was only a single light with a coolie shade illuminating a small area approximately twenty meters from where he was standing. And directly under the cone of light there was a person bound to a chair. His head was down, but it was moving from side to side in small jerks.
    Drake appeared from the darkness to loosen a gag from around the man's mouth.
    The Chester realized who it was.
    "Dad," he croaked, blundering into a second chair he hadn't noticed in the gloom.
    Chester moved into the penumbra cast by the light. His father took a moment to register someone was there, then lifted his head to look straight at his son.
    Chester took a step forward.
    "H--" he trailed off. Mr. Rawls gave him such a glare of pure hatred that Chester closed his mouth. It was all the more shocking to him because his father was normally one of the gentlest and most reserved people you could ever hope to meet.
    But the look Mr. Rawls was giving Chester made him feel as though his father was a complete stranger. Despair spread through him, as if his father's love for him had withered away to nothing.
    "What have you done with Emily, you animals?" Mr. Rawls