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watched her go. Her eyes sauntered back to one of the monitors. The breaking news had broken. The news anchor was recounting the original story, overlaying the latest developments and reassuring viewers that more intriguing details were to follow. Ormandy rested her glass against her bottom lip. The promised statement wouldn’t arrive. There would be no more to tell.

Gemma appeared on a neighbouring screen. ‘Lieutenant Dempsey, for you,’ she said, her tone perfunctory.

‘Ah Dempsey, I have something for you,’ Ormandy said with enough impatience to put the man on edge. ‘Yes, it’s me who should look surprised. Alas, it seems I have a dog, but I’m having to do all of the barking.’

The man’s shirt collar twitched against his Adam’s apple. ‘Ma’am?’

‘Can you give me the current whereabouts of Justin Wheeler?’

‘Certainly, Home Secretary. We can locate him via his tags.’

‘Very good.’ Ormandy finished her whisky. ‘Do it now. I’ll wait.’

Dempsey straightened his already straight tie, his eyes on another monitor. ‘Just bringing up the Justice Ministry—’

‘I don’t need the running commentary, Lieutenant,’ she said, brushing her fingers over the sleeve of her jacket. ‘Have you found them?’

‘Just searching for them…’

‘You won’t find them by looking over your shoulder, Dempsey.’ She brushed her glass aside. ‘Look at me. You won’t find them because they are not there, at least not where they should be.’

‘I don’t understand, ma’am.’

‘Ethan Helix.’ She folded her arms. ‘Somebody else you can’t find. The reason you can’t locate Wheeler is because Ethan Helix has been poking his sticky little fingers where they don’t belong and has moved his tags outside of the Justice Ministry system.’

‘But the tags will still work, Home Secretary. If Chancellor, I mean, if Mr Wheeler gets within—’

‘Exactly. I want you to deactivate his tags for the next 48 hours.’

‘But—’

‘But nothing. Find a solution. Think!’

Dempsey ran his hand over his mouth. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

‘Hallelujah.’ Ormandy got to her feet and returned to the drinks cabinet. ‘Go ahead, astonish me,’ she said, pulling the cork.

‘It’s not the most elegant solution.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But it should work.’

Ormandy spun around from the cabinet. ‘I’ll come back to you. I have another call I need to take.’ She left her drink where it was, returned to her desk and brushed Dempsey’s call aside. ‘Prime Minister, good afternoon.’

‘It was, Julia,’ the PM said, lifting her heavy-rimmed glasses to the top of her wavy grey hair. ‘I suppose I don’t need to ask you if you’ve seen the news, given that the source of the story was probably you or your office.’

Why didn’t the old bat just get to the point? ‘You mean Stepper’s letter?’

‘Lettergate or Gabriellegate they’re already calling it,’ she replied, throwing her hands up. ‘We don’t need another scandal, Julia. How can something so solid suddenly become so unreliable?’

‘Technology I suppose.’ She shrugged. ‘Deep fakes have been around for years but they’re always evolving, it’s difficult to believe anything you see these days.’

‘Don’t patronise me, Julia. I might be an old fart but I’m not stupid.’ She returned her glasses to her nose and peered over them. ‘You need to kill it and quickly.’

‘I’m already on it, Prime Minister,’ she lied. ‘It’ll be dead and buried before the end of the day.’

28

22 Hours

Wheeler had made a meal of bundling Finch’s shrink-wrap down the stairs and outside. After he’d finished, Helix allowed him to shower. In spite of its association with the disgraced politician, the gatehouse had something about it that appealed to Helix. He rotated slowly in the office chair. It was away from the city but without the hardships of woodland life. Enough space, with a few enhancements. It was close enough to the village. Gabrielle could see SJ while still being a doctor and teacher. It would make a great hideout for Ethan. That said, he would have a hard time convincing his brother to accept another Wheeler family hand-me-down. He shook away the blame he’d hung upon himself. Ethan could have said no to the Observatory. It was only half his fault.

Wheeler muttered something about clothes before skulking off to the shower, saying, ‘Digger clothing was hardly going to allow them to keep a low profile once back in the city.’ He may have a point. Helix’s clothes didn’t make any difference. His height and build were enough to turn people’s heads regardless of what he was wearing. He’d told Sofi to see if there was anything with a hood for her. Something similar to what Gabrielle was wearing when he met her for the first time. Just before he’d arrested her on suspicion of murder. He shook his head. So much shit in such a short amount of time.

‘Two drones incoming,’ Sofi reported from downstairs.

The chair shot back on its wheels. Helix hammered on the bathroom door. ‘Move your arse, Wheeler. We’ve got company.’ He didn’t wait for a reply. Plunging down the stairs, he caught the thin metal bannister, steadying himself as his oversized feet slipped on the undersized steps. He ducked under the low door into the bedroom. Sofi stood at the shattered window, dressed in only a pair of black lace knickers with a matching bra. He paused a beat, reminded himself it wasn’t Gabrielle and stood at her shoulder.

‘Non-military. Too small for troop carrying,’ she updated.

Helix’s brow creased as he zoomed in. ‘They’re carrying something.’

‘It’s a window,’ Sofi said, moving back from the window and assessing its dimensions. ‘It’s a glass replacement service.’

Helix holstered his weapon and turned towards her.

‘What do you think?’she said, looking down at the underwear.

‘I think it would be a lot better if you put some bloody clothes on.’ He sighed, staring into the open wardrobe. Clearly Wheeler had thought he’d be able to charm Gabrielle out of the woods with clothes and home comforts. She wasn’t that shallow. She couldn’t stand her ex-husband before his downfall, and she hated him afterwards.

‘My goodness, Gabrielle,’ Wheeler

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