Tunnels 06 - Terminal

stuttered, then froze.
    What Chester and Parry were left looking at on the screen didn’t seem quite right – as if everyone, the Prime Minister included, were suddenly much closer to the camera, as if they’d all been thrown across the table.
    And, in that captured instant, none of them appeared to be laughing any longer; however, the delay between picture and sound meant that their raucous laughter still resonated in the cabin for a moment longer.
    Then there was nothing but an eerie silence.
    The President of the United States swallowed and then cleared his throat as the frozen picture was lost in a snowstorm of static. ‘Bob, can we find out what happened to the feed?’
    Parry was back in his chair, his hands tightly clasped together. ‘Oh, no,’ he whispered.
    Chester had never seen him look so pale. ‘You don’t think …?’ the boy asked him.
    ‘I truly, truly hope not,’ Parry replied.
    ‘No signal? None at all?’ the President was saying to Bob, who had two phones on the go at the same time. ‘Well, can we get some eyes on the Houses of Parliament? Have we got any drones over the area?’
    ‘A drone? There?’ Parry asked, but his question was ignored as Bob conferred with the President, who was rapidly running out of patience. ‘Well, if we have got satellite coverage, get it on-screen right now,’ he said, thumping the table.
    The left-hand display came back to life with an aerial view of London, the Thames in the centre of the picture glinting with the first light of dawn.
    ‘Yes, magnify to a quarter quadrant, and amp up the definition with some digital enhancement, will you,’ Bob said, now only using a single phone as he issued instructions.
    Chester couldn’t believe what the spy satellite was capable of, the picture enlarging in successive jumps until the roofs of individual buildings along the banks were visible. And as the enhancement for low light was applied as Bob had requested, the clarity also shot up, the Thames appearing like a silvered snake.
    ‘Tower Bridge,’ Parry said, as he recognised it from the aerial view.
    ‘Bear with us – we’re going to track along the course of theriver,’ Bob informed them, and the view sped along the Thames, past the different bridges.
    Then the view steadied as the camera on the satellite reached its destination.
    ‘Oh, God, no,’ the President said.
    ‘What is that?’ Chester mumbled, confused by the image.
    Parry put a hand to his temple. He was trembling. ‘It’s one almighty hole in the ground.’
    Chester saw what he meant. Even as he watched, buildings were crumbling and falling in at the edges of the ever-widening fissure, as if in slow motion. There were no Houses of Parliament any more, no Big Ben and no Westminster Bridge – and as the Thames swirled down into the coal-black opening, stretches of the riverbed were exposed.
    ‘They actually did it,’ Chester said breathlessly. ‘They blew the roof of the Eternal City. Just like Drake guessed they might.’
    There was silence as everyone tried to deal with what they were seeing.
    ‘Goddamn it.’ The President’s head was in his hands, his face hidden. ‘How am I going to tell your Prime Minister’s wife and kids about this? They’re staying at Camp David. What the hell am I going to tell them?’ he said to no one in particular. Then he looked sharply up at Parry. ‘What about your asset, Commander … your mole in the Stikes’ ranks? Why did you have no forewarning of this?’
    ‘Sir,’ Bob cut in. ‘That information’s not for dissimilation.’
    Chester shot a glance at Parry who was grimacing. He appeared extremely uncomfortable.
    ‘We’re way beyond any such niceties now,’ the President snapped at Bob. Then he shook his head. ‘We’ll get back to you, gentlemen,’ he said.
    Chester was left with the image of the President making a rapid cutting motion across his throat as he turned towards Bob, then the screens simply shut down.

    ‘You poor old thing, you look done in. They are a handful, aren’t they?’ Mrs Burrows said, stroking Colly’s head. Stretched out on her side as the kittens suckled hungrily, the cat was exhausted, but she still made the effort to purr loudly.
    As someone entered the room, Colly looked up, and her purring became more subdued. ‘It’s all right, girl,’ Mrs Burrows said, trying to reassure her. Like all Hunters she was extremely protective of her young, hissing and growling at anyone who came near, although