The Alex King Series, A BATEMAN [good books for high schoolers .TXT] 📗

file back to GCHQ to be sent to Porton Down. They’re the people for that sort of thing.”

Ramsay glanced out of the window. There was a faint howl of the wind through the triple glazing, but the snow and ice crystals in the air looked like a snow globe. It was wild and all-consuming in the darkness, and he knew that King and Caroline had not returned. He glanced at his watch, uncertain what to do. It wasn’t like there could be a search party put together. He looked back at Marnie. “And?”

“I haven’t heard back,” Marnie paused. “But it has a priority order on it and I’m on a direct link with Cheltenham, so we should know more soon enough.”

“Okay, good work.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Marnie blushed. Ramsay wasn’t known for his praise. “Just one more thing…”

“What?” he asked, his manner terse. He looked like he was trying to order a thousand things at once in his mind and basic conversation skills had left the building.

She leaned over the laptop and opened a file. She stepped back, and Ramsay watched. A series of high-quality photographs filled the screen.

“Jesus Christ…” he trailed off.

“Be careful of the defector,” she said. “We don’t know what we are dealing with yet.”

“I’ve sent Rashid in to wait with her…”

“Oh no…”

Ramsay shot for the door, Marnie followed. They ran down the corridor, Ramsay bustling into a tall, thin man who was limping. He was covered in snow and looked frozen under his snowsuit, his face ruddy and crusted with ice. He wore a permanent grimace, obviously in pain. He mumbled something as Ramsay apologised and ran onwards. Marnie moved past him and caught up with Ramsay as he reached the stairs. They climbed the staircase two treads at a time and darted into the corridor. Rashid was at the door, the key turning as he looked back towards them curiously.

“Wait Rashid!” Ramsay shouted.

“Don’t!” Marnie added.

Rashid shrugged and stepped back from the door.

“Have you unlocked it?”

Rashid shook his head. Marnie went to step forward and hug him, but Ramsay caught hold of her and pulled her away. “No!” He looked at Rashid, who squared up, looking as if he was about to hit Ramsay. “Just wait,” he pleaded. “Rashid go back to your room. Strip off those clothes and put them into a laundry bag, along with any possessions. Take a shower and meet back at my room.”

Rashid frowned, but he soon worked it out. “Is she contaminated?”

“We’re not sure,” said Ramsay. “But I’m hoping we shall know soon enough.”

Marnie had tears in her eyes. She smiled at Rashid, then turned and followed Ramsay back along the corridor. She had only just noticed the noise. As if a dozen vacuum cleaners were working on every floor. “Is that the wind?” she asked incredulously.

“It is,” Ramsay replied absentmindedly. “King and Caroline are still out in that.”

“Oh my god…” she said quietly.

57

The silence was eerie. It happened at once. No warning. One minute the outside world sounded as if it would come to an end; the next moment silence fell, and with it, the pressure that had squeezed their ears, sucked at the air from their chests. The wind dropped, and the world lived on.

“Are we in the eye of the storm?” Caroline asked. “Like in tropical hurricanes?”

King shook his head. “I don’t think so. This happened before; both times. It was violent and intense, then simply gone. Blown out. I think we can get out of here now.”

She kissed him again and said, “Shame.”

They were in complete darkness. The mouth of the cave had snowed over. King wasn’t sure if the rifle barrel had saved them, but it would have provided the snow hole with air nonetheless.

They struggled and scraped their way out, discovering just how difficult it was to crawl backwards. They kicked at the snow blocking the entrance. It had already started to freeze solid. King finally got his right foot through, and that gave him something to kick at. He made the edges of the hole larger with every kick. By the time they fell out through the hole and down the slope, they were exhausted and soaked in sweat. The droplets of sweat on exposed parts of skin had already frozen to tiny icicles.

“We’ve got to get going,” King said. “That was another squall. If this storm is as bad as people are predicting, then we need to get back to the hotel.”

Caroline nodded. She looked around for the snowmobile but couldn’t see it. King searched too, but it was gone. There was a distant glimmer of light on the horizon to the east. It did nothing to illuminate the dimness, but it signalled there was a reprieve on the way.

“It can’t have just blown away,” she said incredulously.

“Well, it has.”

“Wait. Is that it over there?” she asked, pointing to a speck in the middle of the river.

King squinted, could pick out the solid colour against the pristine white of the snow. With no trees or scrub to deflect its presence, it stood out, but was a hundred metres away at least. He nodded. “I think so. Let’s go and look.”

   It didn’t take long to see the machine wasn’t going anywhere. The forks and skids were buckled, and the handlebars had snapped at the centre fixing. Fuel was leaking onto the ice and a thick ooze of oil was gathering to one side.

“Well, that’s that then.” Caroline punched King on the arm. “Looks like a tab.”

“Well, don’t go getting all competitive on me,” he said. “I’ve got broken ribs.”

“Ahh, diddums,” she grinned. She looked at the crack of light in the sky, then turned the other way. “Due west, I make it.”

“That’s about right,” said King. He fished out his