Read Every Second Counts Online

Authors: Sophie McKenzie

Every Second Counts (7 page)

I watched her disappear downstairs. After a surprisingly good sleep I felt more confident than I had last night. Whatever happened regarding my dad, I would surely have time today to start
looking for proof I could use against Riley.

Along the landing, I headed for the office which Nat and I had broken into last year. Our cell leader, Taylor, had sent us to download information off a computer as a test to see whether we made
the grade as trainee EFA agents. We hadn’t known we were breaking into Riley’s office then, of course. I flushed with humiliation as I remembered how easily we had been fooled.

As I approached the office, a masked EFA soldier appeared from around the corner. He spotted me instantly and stood, arms folded. I stopped too. The guy was huge, there was definitely no way
past him. The soldier pointed to the stairs. I turned and sped away. Never mind, hopefully I’d get a chance to check out the office later.

Riley looked up as I walked into the living room. He seemed more distracted than he had been last night, his eyes less intent on me, as if he had other things on his mind.

‘I’ve been in touch with your father,’ he said immediately. ‘He is eager to meet you, but he can’t come here, so we’ve decided it’s best for you to go
to him. Today.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘
Today?
Where does he live?’

‘I can’t tell you, but it’ll be a few hours’ drive.’ Riley got up. ‘Look, I’m sorry I don’t have more time to spend with you before you go, I know
your father would have preferred that.’ He paused and it struck me that perhaps all Riley’s hospitality came down to some weird obligation he had to my dad. He’d described him
before as some kind of international leader of the EFA and other groups. For the first time I wondered exactly how deep the connection between them went.

‘Anyway,’ Riley went on, ‘as you know, I’m very busy. There’s the general election at the end of next week and I’m speaking at four different rallies today,
so I have to leave in a minute, but Martina will give you anything you need and . . . and then, like I say, she’ll take you to meet your dad.’

‘Right,’ I said. My head spun. ‘Er . . . so he really is alive?’

Riley stared at me. His expression softened. ‘Yes, he is.’ He walked over to a table in the corner of the room and picked up a sheet of paper. ‘I’m sorry, Charlie,
I’m forgetting how little you know, but don’t worry, your father will explain it all to you. I know how keen he is for you to join him . . .’ He smiled. ‘To join
us
.’

Was that really the plan? Was Riley seriously prepared to trust me? Or had he made up the whole thing about my dad in order to manipulate me? Just as he had invented other things to manipulate
me before.

‘Can’t you tell me anything?’ I asked, wondering if Riley would falter if I pressed him for details, ‘How come I thought my father was dead all these years? Are you
saying my mum lied about that? Or Uncle Brian? How come you’re so sure this guy you’re in touch with
is
my dad?’

Riley handed me the paper in his hand. ‘This shows the results of a DNA test. You and your dad.’

My mouth gaped. I hadn’t been expecting that. ‘You took my DNA?’

‘A swab inside your mouth while you were asleep after a training session earlier this year.’ Riley shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, but once your father realised you might be his
daughter we had to act – and there seemed no point telling you anything until we were sure.’

‘I see.’ I looked down at the DNA test result, trying to focus on the dense black type.

‘Ignore the man’s name on the form, it’s a false one,’ Riley said. ‘Your father lives under a secret identity.’

I looked down at piece of paper. My name was there along with the 99.89 percent probability that I was the offspring of the man named on the form. ‘But why—?’ I started.

Riley cut me off with a wave of his hand. ‘I really can’t tell you more, Charlie. It’s up to your dad to fill you in on all the history. But I can say that to the best of my
knowledge both your mother and your uncle believed your father died when you were a very little girl.’

My head spun. Even if all this was true, how on earth was I going to get evidence against Riley now? ‘Why can’t my dad come here?’ I asked.

Riley sighed. ‘Because you’re not the only one who thought he was dead. If he was seen in public, if the authorities realised he was still alive, it would be dangerous for
him.’

‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Is he wanted by the police or something? You said, before, that he was the leader of the EFA, of several groups around Europe. Did he break the law doing
that?’


Leader
isn’t exactly the right word, though in the purest sense it’s true.’ Riley hesitated a moment. ‘Your father is a freedom fighter and a political
philosopher. I already knew what was wrong with our country when I met him. But your father opened my eyes to how exactly it could be put right.’

‘I see,’ I said, though I didn’t really see at all. I’d been so overwhelmed by the possibility that my dad might be alive, that I hadn’t given much thought to who
he might be as a person. He sounded idealistic, which fitted with things Mum had said. Was it possible that he had some beautiful vision for the human race that Riley had twisted to suit his own,
power-hungry ambitions?

‘So my dad isn’t the boss of you in a practical sense?’ I asked. ‘But he is, like, an inspiration? For you and other people?’

‘Exactly,’ Riley said. ‘Now, I really have to go.’

And with that he swept out of the room.

I sat back on the sofa, my mind reeling. It sounded like this man who said he was my dad was smart. But was he smart enough to realise what Riley was doing in his name? Sometimes intellectually
smart, idealistic people didn’t see what was going on under their noses. Maybe I’d be able to show him. Maybe, if he really was as keen to see me as Riley said, he would listen to what
I knew. Perhaps, once he understood how evil Riley was – how Mum had died in the marketplace bomb – he would even give me the evidence I needed against Riley.

I really wanted to let Nat know what I’d learned. If I could make it up to Riley’s office I would surely be able find a computer or a smartphone that I could use to leave Nat a draft
email, then delete the record from the hard drive – a neat trick which Taylor had taught us when we’d been training. And, once I was in the office, I’d be able to search for
evidence against Riley, just as I hoped to do earlier.

Intent on this new plan, I slipped out of the living room. Before I had taken even a single step across the hall Martina appeared again.

‘Looking for something?’ she said sharply. ‘Because I’d much prefer you to ask and let me fetch it for you.’

I stared at her, my heart beating fast. It struck me that under that elegant pink dress Martina was as strong and muscular as the other female EFA soldiers I’d met.

‘Am I a prisoner, then?’ I demanded.

‘You’re a guest,’ Martina insisted.

I glared at her as Riley emerged from the kitchen, head buried in his phone. He looked deeply troubled, but when he looked up and saw I was standing in the living-room doorway, the frown fell
from his forehead and an easy smile curved around his lips.

‘Was there something else, Charlie?’

I glanced at Martina. She said nothing.

‘I just wanted to speak to you again. I mean, you can’t expect me just to get in a car with a complete stranger –’ I pointed at Martina, ‘– without telling me
something about where I’m going.’

‘Martina and I have been together for the past couple of years,’ Riley said smoothly. ‘As I already told you, she’s a trained EFA agent, just like you. That’s how
we met, in fact. She has my complete trust and therefore should have yours.’ The firm tone with which he spoke made it hard to contradict him, but I was well aware this could all be a trap,
that Riley could simply be getting me away from his house – and any connection to him – in order to keep me away from the very evidence I was searching for. And to have me killed.

‘Please,’ I persisted, feeling my face flush, ‘I mean I
know
things about my dad. His name was John Stockwell and I’ve seen pictures – he can’t look
that
different now. Can’t you show me a picture of him so I can see it’s the same man? I mean, that DNA test report could easily have been faked.’

Riley studied me for a second. ‘I don’t have any pictures, Charlie. Your father is very careful about that.’ He hesitated. ‘There is more I could tell you, but I honestly
think it’s best if your father explains who he is, what he’s done and all the reasons why you don’t know him.’

I opened my mouth to argue again, but before I could speak Riley leaped in again.

‘However, although I’m not going to give away his exact location, I
will
tell you that right now he is in Cornwall. He’s staying in my family home.’

I frowned. ‘I thought
this
was your family home?’ I said.

‘It is,’ Riley said. ‘That is, this is the home I grew up in. Your father is saying with my son and his mother, my ex. You’ll be meeting them all before the end of the
day.’

Nat

I did a proper reccy as soon as it was dawn. I was tired – Aaron and I had taken it in turns to keep guard, but I didn’t really trust him to stay awake, so even the
few minutes of sleep I’d snatched had been fitful and disturbed. Aaron, by contrast, appeared to have no trouble sleeping, rolled up in Charlie’s sleeping bag and snoring away through
his entire rest time.

By seven a.m. I’d skirted the farmhouse, keeping my cover in the woods while looking at the building from every angle. It appeared rundown and was made from stone with two main floors,
plus the attic room up top. But I knew from my previous visits here that, though most of the rooms inside were fairly basic, the building also housed a sprawling basement where English Freedom Army
operations were coordinated.

Two large cars with darkened windows were parked in front of the farmhouse. My heart sank at the sight of them. Their presence suggested that the place was occupied – and by more soldiers
than I could possibly deal with in an unarmed encounter.

On my journey around the edge of the woods I’d seen four separate men and one woman emerge from the house. Even from a distance, they all looked young and fit and muscular –
definitely EFA soldiers.

I came back to the little clearing where I’d left Aaron wrapped in his sleeping bag. His head was tipped back against the bark of the tree, his mouth open and he was making soft, snuffling
noises. I nudged his leg with my foot, none too gently. He woke with a start.

‘I wasn’t asleep,’ he said quickly.

‘Course you weren’t.’ I squatted down beside him and peered at the farmhouse through the trees again.

My best guess was that Jas was being held in the basement room where Charlie had been kept prisoner just weeks before. For a few moments I imagined her crouching in a dark corner, shaking with
fear. My blood boiled as I thought of how terrified she would be, a prisoner, not knowing what would happen to her, unable to answer Riley’s questions.

My fists itched to punch him for scaring her. I thought back to the moment when Charlie and I were last here, when both of us had had the chance to take Riley’s life. Neither of us had
done it. At the time I’d thought this was the right decision, that a cold-blooded murder would have made us as bad as Riley himself – but now I wondered. When
were
you justified
in taking someone’s life? Once they had done something bad? Or when you knew that if you didn’t kill them, they would almost certainly go on and kill others? Or was taking a life never
justified, under any circumstances?

I honestly wasn’t sure any more.

Riley had taken my sister yesterday afternoon and it would surely be hours rather than days before he ran out of patience with her and . . . I couldn’t bring myself to face what he would
do once he realised she didn’t know anything.

I forced my focus back to how I could rescue her. The only entry to the basement was through the kitchen. Even if I could somehow sneak in there – and the kitchen window, which I could see
from here, was shut and probably locked – I would still have to make it down the narrow cellar steps and past anyone working in the main ops base. If I was going to do it, I needed to move
soon – and with as much speed and silence as I could muster.

‘Er, Nat?’ Aaron’s hair was tousled and his face grimy. As he smiled, his annoying dimple appeared in the middle of his rosy cheeks. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve
got any food with you? I ate all mine on the way here last night.’

Shaking my head, I dug my hand into my backpack and pulled out a pack of beef jerky – a dried food staple that Charlie and I had lived on for weeks. I chucked a strip of the stiff, chewy
meat in Aaron’s direction. ‘Here, have this.’

Aaron picked up the jerky and examined it, an expression of disgust on his face. ‘My mum says stuff like this gives you cancer.’

‘Well, go home and eat an apple then.’ Irritation rose inside me. ‘I don’t suppose Jas has got any choice over what she’s eating either.’

‘Oh God.’ Aaron’s face fell. ‘She doesn’t eat enough as it is. I worry that she’s too skinny to be healthy, but—’

‘Will you shut up,’ I snapped, my last ounce of patience finally deserting me. ‘I need to focus. And fast. If we can’t get Jas out soon, Riley will kill her.’

Aaron fell silent. He peered past me, through the trees, towards the farmhouse. The beef jerky lay, untouched, on his lap.

An awkward few seconds passed. ‘You should still eat,’ I muttered.

Aaron handed the strip of dried meat back to me. ‘I’ll eat when we’ve got Jas.’ He stood up. ‘Where do you think they’re holding her?’

‘Basement probably.’ I took a bite of the jerky. It was all very well Aaron being noble about eating, but I was hungry. Taylor’s voice from our training sessions rang in my
ears.
Eat and eat well, whenever you can. Lack of food impairs your brain and your body.

As I chewed my mouthful, Aaron wandered over to a tree right on the edge of the woodland.

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