The Darziods' Stone by author Richard Smith
Chapter 18
Harry thought he was seeing things when, out of nowhere, a dark object travelling at great speed, came from above, in the direction from the hotel and hit the leading policeman in the back, sending him sprawling to the ground. A second identical object hit another policeman in the leg. Harry followed this one, as it bounced away on the ground. It looked like a canister of some sort. Was it a rubber bullet?
‘Harry, get in!’ ordered AJ, standing beside Bentley.
Harry didn’t waste another second, he climbed into the back seat, and squeezed in alongside his four friends. Willow and AJ sat in the front. Willow felt around for the keys, fired the ignition, and shoved the gear stick forward. The powerful engine roared, bringing the car into life, and the front of the car reared up as he accelerated away. One of the two remaining policemen wasn’t quick enough getting out of the way; he was struck, rolled onto the bonnet, and crashed onto the windscreen, which caused it to cave in, but remained intact.
‘I can’t see a thing!’ Willow roared.
AJ slammed his hand into the windscreen, and it shattered into thousands of pieces with an explosive sound.
Harry was sprawled across his friends’ laps and rocked violently, as Willow sped from the car park. He managed to right himself, in time to see the policeman fall from the bonnet. through the void where the windscreen once was.
Willow swung the Bentley into Park Lane, cutting in front of an on-coming car to take the nearside lane, and then accelerated at great speed. As he did so, another car pulled out from a side street. Good the Bentley’s brakes were, Willow didn’t have enough road to stop in time, and they ploughed into the other car, activating the Bentley’s airbags.
The teenager’s screams filled the car, as AJ ripped the airbags away, and Willow slammed into reverse. Manoeuvring around the damaged car, he took the middle lane. The Bentley’s engine roared again as they shot forward, with air rushing in through the hole where the windscreen had been.
AJ spoke into the blue-tooth. ‘We couldn’t wait for the pick-up. We’re in transit, in a silver Bentley, travelling south, on Park Lane. Go to the meeting point, now, we shouldn’t be too long.’
When Willow had to stab the brakes hard to avoid another collision with a taxi that had changed lanes. Harry and his friends lurched forward. Then they were thrown to the side, as Willow turned sharply, a manoeuvre that was accompanied by a cacophony of car horns from angry drivers. Willow accelerated between lanes, scrapping along the sides of several vehicles, and knocking off door mirrors as he did so. He used the heavy, powerful car to barge other vehicles out of the way. The middle lane was clear for him to take, before they reached the roundabout at Hyde Park Corner.
As they zig-zagged through traffic there, AJ pointed to the road straight opposite. ‘Forget Piccadilly, it’ll be chocker. Take Constitution Hill.’
Willow powered into the wide road which ran alongside Buckingham Palace, with the Bentley’s tyres screeching. AJ took a deep breath and made a calming gesture. ‘Take it easy,’ he told Willow, with a cautionary glance over his shoulder. ‘I think we’re OK…for now.’
Harry was relieved when Willow brought the car down to a sensible speed and took a moment to take in the surroundings. Green Park rolled away to the left, and if their situation hadn’t been so serious, he would have enjoyed taking a stroll there. In fact, he thought he’d love to be in the park, and not in the middle of this nightmare.
’We’re travelling along Constitution Hill,’ AJ reported via his blue-tooth.
Harry looked at his friends, squashed along the back seat. Their faces were etched with fear. Asad sensed Harry’s stare and looked at him. Neither spoke, but Asad’s slight shake of the head confirmed Harry’s own thoughts: they were in deep trouble.
‘We’ve got company,’ said Willow, peering into his rear view mirror.
Harry froze, as two police motorcyclists drew alongside them. When the leading rider stabbed his gloved finger, signalling to Willow to pull over, he didn’t. Instead, he stamped on the accelerator. Soon, they were overtaking traffic again, at speeds of up to 80 miles an hour. On-coming drivers had to pull off the road and onto the grass verge to avoid them.
The air rushing in through the absent windscreen was fierce, and AJ’s voice was barely audible. ’We’ve just entered The Mall,’ he reported.
The engine growled under the bonnet, as Willow hit the gas again, overtaking traffic to take the centre of the road, where he remained doggedly, forcing other road-users out of his path.
One of the police motorcyclists drew up on the offside, and stared long and hard at Willow, before jabbing his finger in an unspoken order to move to the side of the road, but Willow didn’t deviate from his course, or drop his speed.
‘You’re going to have to lose these two, we’re coming to Trafalgar Square,’ said AJ, as the other policeman came up on the inside.
Harry and his friends were rocked violently when Willow swerved into the rider on the inside and without touching him, forced him off the road and onto the grass, where he bounced and rocked, before falling off. Willow then braked sharply, causing the other policeman to race ahead; then he hit the accelerator again, and brought the Bentley alongside the police motor cyclist. Repeating his previous manoeuvre, he again forced the rider off the road, with similar consequences. This time, however the unlucky policeman crashed into a row of bushes.
As they approached Admiralty Arch, at the mouth of The Mall, Willow slowed down to pass under it at a moderate speed, before coming to a halt at the traffic lights at Trafalgar Square. The damaged Bentley, with steam now coming from its radiator, attracted a lot of attraction.
AJ scanned the area. ‘We’re now at Trafalgar Square,’ he reported. ‘Not sure how long the car will last, it’s losing water.’
A group of Japanese tourists stared at the beaten limousine. One made a comment and they all laughed. Then began taking photos. Harry sank into his seat as other pedestrians stared at the car and took photos. He longed for the traffic lights to change to green.
Willow waited, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel with one hand, and his elbow resting on the door. He looked at three giggling girls, aged around 15. One was pointing at the smashed bonnet, another took a photo with her mobile phone. He rolled the window done and told them, ‘You should see my other car, that’s a real wreak,’
How could Willow be so relaxed, Harry wondered uneasily, as other pedestrians gathered on a large roundabout in front, stared at the spectacle of an expensive car so badly damaged. At the centre of the roundabout stood a black statue of one of the kings of England, sitting on a horse. Harry wasn’t sure which king it was. He looked at Trafalgar Square, where tourists were climbing on the giant lions, sitting at the foot of Nelson’s Column, and admiring the famous fountains. Everything seemed normal, apart from them being the centre of attraction, which worried him.
‘Nice car,’ said a man in a pinstriped suit, as he crossed the road.
‘Thanks,’ Willow replied, leaning out of the window
A police siren wailed somewhere in the area. The lights changed and Willow pulled away slowly. AJ looked frantically for the police, but another siren sounded, and with two blaring, he couldn’t tell where they were. Willow continued to follow the traffic, in file.
Suddenly, a siren blasted from the left. Harry and his friends turned to look and were aghast, to see a police van, blue lights flashing, emerge from a line of vehicles which parted to let it through. It pulled up alongside the Bentley. With no way through the traffic in front, Willow turned the steering wheel sharply and mounted the shallow kerb of the large roundabout, sending pedestrians fleeing in all directions. Moments later, he had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting a cyclist. Now the area was awash with the din of police sirens. Willow swung back onto the road. He’d dodged the stagnant traffic and the police van, though only briefly: drivers manoeuvred their vehicles out of its way, allowing it access.
‘We’re now heading down Northumberland Avenue, and as you can probably hear, the police want to have a word,’ said AJ calmly. Harry wished he could feel even half as calm.
Willow overtook a bus, causing on-coming vehicles to swerve, then hogged the crown of the road determinedly. Other drivers got out of his way but one, driving a yellow Honda, was not alert enough, and the Bentley hit it head-on. Willow swore and Harry and his friends shot forward. Their creams and groans filled the car.
Without hesitating, Willow negotiated around the Honda and was off, racing in the middle of the road again. This is madness, thought Harry, fearing for his life. How much longer could they avoid the pursuing police? How much more abuse could the Bentley take? How much more could he?
‘Coming to the end of Northumberland Avenue,’ AJ announced calmly.
Ahead, Harry could see boats on the river; they had reached the Victoria Embankment. He didn’t see the police car pull up in front of them, blocking their path.
‘Everyone, hold on!’ Willow cried.
Harry gripped the seat in front of him; Willow wasn’t slowing down. Amelia’s scream pierced the air, as the Bentley rammed the police car, pushing it onto the Victoria Embankment. Harry’s head hit the roof of the car.
Then, suddenly - BANG! A Mercedes slammed into the back door, where Mitch was sitting. He hollered out in pain, and then Amelia screamed again. Harry turned to look at Mitch. Blood was pouring from a head wound, and his leg was twisted around the caved-in door.
Willow floored the accelerator and raced eastwards, along the Embankment in a car which less than 10 minutes earlier, was worth £180,000, and was now a wreck. Steam billowed out from under the bonnet and the engine laboured, but somehow managed to maintain a decent speed.
Harry took a quick glance behind: police cars with their headlights on full beam, and blue lights flashing in hot pursuit, and closing in on them. Then, to his horror, more police cars were fanned across both lanes ahead, headlights blazing and blue lights pulsating. It was a formidable sight. The game’s up, he thought, with dull resignation
‘We’re close now,’ said AJ, calmly. ‘Coming up to Savoy Street, now.’
Willow spoke over his shoulder. ‘When we stop, you’ve got to follow me and AJ really quickly. We quick, we should have enough…’
‘What about Mitch?’ Amelia cried. ‘He’s badly injured.’
Willow shook his head. ‘Sorry, Mitch, we’re going to have to leave you. You can tell them you were all kidnapped. You’ll be in the clear. And you’ll get medical attention.’
‘That’s not right,’ Amelia protested, angrily.
As a left turn approached, just before Waterloo Bridge, Willow yanked the handbrake and slid the car into a screeching skid, stopping at the mouth of the street. After powering up the street for 50 yards, he stamped on the brakes.
‘Right, everybody out, now!’ he screamed.
‘We’re here, we’re here!’ AJ told his listener.
Mitch remained in his seat, crouched in pain, as his friends exited through the other door.
‘Sorry Mitch,’ said Amelia, helplessly.
‘No time for that,’ said Willow, sharply. ‘Come on! Move!’
Harry got out feeling woozy, as the sirens were deafening; the police were moments away from the abandoned Bentley, angled across in the road, where steam shot up into the air, hissing loudly from the engine and oil formed rapidly beneath it. Amelia staggered out. When she stumbled, Asad grabbed her.
‘Willow!’ shouted AJ, pointing at Amelia.
Willow dashed back to pick her up, then make for a grey-bricked church, surrounded by gardens, the holdall over his shoulder, Amelia over the other.
The wrecked Bentley blocking the road was enough to the prevent the police from seeing Willow leading the others to the church. The sound of a helicopter throbbed somewhere overhead.
AJ reached the steps to the church first. A heavily-built woman stood in the entrance. ‘Come on, inside,’ she urged. ‘You’re cutting this pretty fine.’
She glanced up at the sky, as the helicopter buzzed close above the rooftops. Once everyone was in the church, she shut and locked the doors, muffling the sound of the helicopter. She moved quickly the nave, and the others followed. The helicopter sounded louder here; much louder, as if it was directly overhead.
Harry noticed a man standing behind the last row of wooden chairs. At his feet, was a large, up-turned concrete flagstone. He held a yellow, heavy duty torch, and greeted them with a warm smile and stepped back, allowing the big woman in to the void first. She took the torch from him as she disappeared into the blackness. AJ was next; he descended down a ladder fixed to the subterranean wall. Willow lowered the dazed Amelia down into his arms.
Suddenly, the locked church doors were shaken hard, snapping Willow into action. ‘Everybody down,’ he said, glancing at the side windows. He pushed Ryan towards the opening, then rested his hands on Asad’s shoulders, as he crouched near the hole, waiting for Ryan to go below. ‘Go on, Asad,’ said Willow, tapping his shoulders. ‘Down you go.’
Harry took his turn next. When he got near the bottom, AJ was there to guide him to the ground. Willow was next, followed by the other man, who fastened down the slab, reducing them to semi-darkness. The big woman already had the torch on, and its industrial-strength brightness lit a long tunnel.
‘We’re safe now,’ said the man, stepping off the ladder onto dry cobbles. ‘By the way, I’m Magnus.’
Willow introduced the teenagers to him by name as they set off. ‘And that’s Linda,’ he told them. She raised her hand, acknowledging Willow’s words, and led the way. Willow put his arm around Amelia’s shoulders. ‘How you feeling?’
‘Better, thanks.’
‘What were those canister things, fired at the police, back at the hotel?’ Harry asked him.
‘Rubber bullets,’ replied Willow, ‘fired by our guardian angel.’
‘Ah,’ said Magnus, nodding. ‘You took my advice, and had someone watching over you, after all?’
‘Yes, and believe me, we needed it,’ Willow replied, with a laugh.
The tunnel was made of red brick, and no more than three feet wide, and just over six feet high. With Linda leading the way, their footsteps echoed off the walls. A deep rumbling sound grew louder.
‘What’s that?’ Amelia whispered, nervously.
‘The District Line,’ said Magnus.
‘Or Circle,’ AJ suggested.
Magnus chuckled. ‘Or Circle. Years ago, I could tell the difference between them - the trains sound different.’
Harry felt bemused by the latest development in their ongoing nightmare. Here they were – in the middle of what should have been a carefree holiday in Cornwall, walking along a narrow tunnel under the centre of London. Who else even knew of it, he wondered. Where were they being taken now? And what would happen next?
He thought of Mitch. What was happening to him now? Not only was he hurt, but was now in the hands of the authorities. Would they believe his story? When was all this going to end? He had almost forgotten that he might soon be a millionaire! But that thought brought more worries, more questions. Where was the treasure now? Was it safe? Would they ever get their hands on it? He hoped they hadn’t gone through all this for nothing.
‘We’re now under King’s College,’ said Magnus, sounding rather pleased with the fact.
‘Where are we going?’ Asad asked, agitatedly.
’Somewhere safe,’ Willow replied.
A rumble came from beyond, as another tube train went by.
Harry was very curious when they passed a wooden door along the tunnel. Was there a labyrinth of tunnels down here?
After walking for five minutes, they came to several concrete steps leading up to a wooden door, which Linda unlocked. It opened onto a small room. Still using the torch, she crossed the room, opened another door and climbed another flight of stairs. Harry presumed they had just left a cellar. When the Linda opened a third door and stepped into a short hallway, he knew he was right. They gathered in a wood-panelled walkway, with dark polished floorboards, and walls adorned with paintings in elaborate, gold frames adorned the walls.
Willow opened one of four doors in the hallway and entered another room. A young woman sat on an antique settee, and more framed paintings hung on the walls.
‘Take a seat,’ said Willow, removing the holdall and placing it on the floor. He dug inside it and brought out the stone.
Ryan sat in an armchair, as did Amelia. Asad and Harry remained standing.
‘Where’s the other one?’ asked the young women.
‘In the hands of the constabulary, I’m afraid,’ Willow replied. He stood close to the antique settee, and nodded towards her. ‘By the way, this is Jenny.’ He went on to name the teenagers.
‘Ah,’ said Magnus when Willow passed the stone to him. ‘At last!’ Magnus took it, inspecting it closely. ‘Fascinating.’
Harry studied Jenny. She was pretty. Long, straight, dark hair framed her face, and an enigmatic smile never left her lips. To Harry, she seemed bemused by their presence. Magnus had a dark jumper draped over his shoulders; he looked as if he’d just stepped off a yacht. His light-coloured casual trousers and expensive plimsolls seemed to endorse Harry’s observation. As she took the stone from Magnus, her face lit up. ‘Wow!’ She stroked it, then traced a finger along its strange markings.
As they studied the stone, Harry took in the view through the windows of a large garden with a neatly trimmed lawn. Trees and flowerbeds added to the pleasant setting. Harry’s gaze then fell to a fountain on the far side of the gardens, and beyond that and railings, a bridge crossing the Thames, which looked like Waterloo Bridge. ‘Where are we, Willow?’
‘Temple.’
But what is it. Who occupies these buildings?’
‘Major law firms, mostly.’
Harry turned from the window and looked at the strangers in the room. ‘And who are these people?’
‘We all work for Aduersus,’ said Magnus, looking up from the stone. ‘And we all hold important positions in society. Positions beneficial to the cause. I’m a telecommunications expert, Jenny’s an astrophysicist, a good one at that. Linda is a Permanent Secretary at Westminster. That comes in very handy when we need an insight into Government matters.’
‘I can’t believe Charles told you not to test the stone,’ said Jenny. ‘You know he won’t answer our call?’
Willow snorted and shook his head. ‘He’s stopped answering our calls, too.’
‘He is travelling back from aboard,’ Magnus reminded them.
‘Hmm,’ said Willow, thoughtfully. ‘When’s he due back?’
‘He’s doing his best to get here late afternoon.’
‘Who’s Charles?’ asked Harry.
‘Just someone involved with Aduersus,’ Willow replied.
Harry looked to Willow’s new associates for answers, hoping that they’d be more forthcoming. ‘Who does the stone actually belong to? I know it’s from another world.’
Jenny, Magnus and Linda were clearly surprised at Harry’s knowledge.
‘What are you doing, telling them things they shouldn’t know?’ Magnus demanded.
‘I didn’t tell them,’ Willow replied, bitterly. ’Harry got in touch with a ufologist, who told him about the two Sphinx’s heads.’
Magnus glowered at Harry. ‘They shouldn’t be privy to such information. What were you thinking of, contacting a ufologist?’
Harry became angry too. ‘Why not!? And if it wasn’t for us, you wouldn’t have the damn stone.’
’I’m sorry,’ said Magnus, resolutely. ‘They need to go into a safe house, whilst this matter is taken care of. It’s for their own good.’
Willow rubbed his facial stubble thoughtfully, and pacing slowly around the room. He exchanged a long stare with Linda, before going to the window and looking at the garden. After a few moments, he turned and addressed the teenagers. ‘Magnus is right, you must all go to a safe house, for your own protection.’
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‘Harry, get in!’ ordered AJ, standing beside Bentley.
Harry didn’t waste another second, he climbed into the back seat, and squeezed in alongside his four friends. Willow and AJ sat in the front. Willow felt around for the keys, fired the ignition, and shoved the gear stick forward. The powerful engine roared, bringing the car into life, and the front of the car reared up as he accelerated away. One of the two remaining policemen wasn’t quick enough getting out of the way; he was struck, rolled onto the bonnet, and crashed onto the windscreen, which caused it to cave in, but remained intact.
‘I can’t see a thing!’ Willow roared.
AJ slammed his hand into the windscreen, and it shattered into thousands of pieces with an explosive sound.
Harry was sprawled across his friends’ laps and rocked violently, as Willow sped from the car park. He managed to right himself, in time to see the policeman fall from the bonnet. through the void where the windscreen once was.
Willow swung the Bentley into Park Lane, cutting in front of an on-coming car to take the nearside lane, and then accelerated at great speed. As he did so, another car pulled out from a side street. Good the Bentley’s brakes were, Willow didn’t have enough road to stop in time, and they ploughed into the other car, activating the Bentley’s airbags.
The teenager’s screams filled the car, as AJ ripped the airbags away, and Willow slammed into reverse. Manoeuvring around the damaged car, he took the middle lane. The Bentley’s engine roared again as they shot forward, with air rushing in through the hole where the windscreen had been.
AJ spoke into the blue-tooth. ‘We couldn’t wait for the pick-up. We’re in transit, in a silver Bentley, travelling south, on Park Lane. Go to the meeting point, now, we shouldn’t be too long.’
When Willow had to stab the brakes hard to avoid another collision with a taxi that had changed lanes. Harry and his friends lurched forward. Then they were thrown to the side, as Willow turned sharply, a manoeuvre that was accompanied by a cacophony of car horns from angry drivers. Willow accelerated between lanes, scrapping along the sides of several vehicles, and knocking off door mirrors as he did so. He used the heavy, powerful car to barge other vehicles out of the way. The middle lane was clear for him to take, before they reached the roundabout at Hyde Park Corner.
As they zig-zagged through traffic there, AJ pointed to the road straight opposite. ‘Forget Piccadilly, it’ll be chocker. Take Constitution Hill.’
Willow powered into the wide road which ran alongside Buckingham Palace, with the Bentley’s tyres screeching. AJ took a deep breath and made a calming gesture. ‘Take it easy,’ he told Willow, with a cautionary glance over his shoulder. ‘I think we’re OK…for now.’
Harry was relieved when Willow brought the car down to a sensible speed and took a moment to take in the surroundings. Green Park rolled away to the left, and if their situation hadn’t been so serious, he would have enjoyed taking a stroll there. In fact, he thought he’d love to be in the park, and not in the middle of this nightmare.
’We’re travelling along Constitution Hill,’ AJ reported via his blue-tooth.
Harry looked at his friends, squashed along the back seat. Their faces were etched with fear. Asad sensed Harry’s stare and looked at him. Neither spoke, but Asad’s slight shake of the head confirmed Harry’s own thoughts: they were in deep trouble.
‘We’ve got company,’ said Willow, peering into his rear view mirror.
Harry froze, as two police motorcyclists drew alongside them. When the leading rider stabbed his gloved finger, signalling to Willow to pull over, he didn’t. Instead, he stamped on the accelerator. Soon, they were overtaking traffic again, at speeds of up to 80 miles an hour. On-coming drivers had to pull off the road and onto the grass verge to avoid them.
The air rushing in through the absent windscreen was fierce, and AJ’s voice was barely audible. ’We’ve just entered The Mall,’ he reported.
The engine growled under the bonnet, as Willow hit the gas again, overtaking traffic to take the centre of the road, where he remained doggedly, forcing other road-users out of his path.
One of the police motorcyclists drew up on the offside, and stared long and hard at Willow, before jabbing his finger in an unspoken order to move to the side of the road, but Willow didn’t deviate from his course, or drop his speed.
‘You’re going to have to lose these two, we’re coming to Trafalgar Square,’ said AJ, as the other policeman came up on the inside.
Harry and his friends were rocked violently when Willow swerved into the rider on the inside and without touching him, forced him off the road and onto the grass, where he bounced and rocked, before falling off. Willow then braked sharply, causing the other policeman to race ahead; then he hit the accelerator again, and brought the Bentley alongside the police motor cyclist. Repeating his previous manoeuvre, he again forced the rider off the road, with similar consequences. This time, however the unlucky policeman crashed into a row of bushes.
As they approached Admiralty Arch, at the mouth of The Mall, Willow slowed down to pass under it at a moderate speed, before coming to a halt at the traffic lights at Trafalgar Square. The damaged Bentley, with steam now coming from its radiator, attracted a lot of attraction.
AJ scanned the area. ‘We’re now at Trafalgar Square,’ he reported. ‘Not sure how long the car will last, it’s losing water.’
A group of Japanese tourists stared at the beaten limousine. One made a comment and they all laughed. Then began taking photos. Harry sank into his seat as other pedestrians stared at the car and took photos. He longed for the traffic lights to change to green.
Willow waited, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel with one hand, and his elbow resting on the door. He looked at three giggling girls, aged around 15. One was pointing at the smashed bonnet, another took a photo with her mobile phone. He rolled the window done and told them, ‘You should see my other car, that’s a real wreak,’
How could Willow be so relaxed, Harry wondered uneasily, as other pedestrians gathered on a large roundabout in front, stared at the spectacle of an expensive car so badly damaged. At the centre of the roundabout stood a black statue of one of the kings of England, sitting on a horse. Harry wasn’t sure which king it was. He looked at Trafalgar Square, where tourists were climbing on the giant lions, sitting at the foot of Nelson’s Column, and admiring the famous fountains. Everything seemed normal, apart from them being the centre of attraction, which worried him.
‘Nice car,’ said a man in a pinstriped suit, as he crossed the road.
‘Thanks,’ Willow replied, leaning out of the window
A police siren wailed somewhere in the area. The lights changed and Willow pulled away slowly. AJ looked frantically for the police, but another siren sounded, and with two blaring, he couldn’t tell where they were. Willow continued to follow the traffic, in file.
Suddenly, a siren blasted from the left. Harry and his friends turned to look and were aghast, to see a police van, blue lights flashing, emerge from a line of vehicles which parted to let it through. It pulled up alongside the Bentley. With no way through the traffic in front, Willow turned the steering wheel sharply and mounted the shallow kerb of the large roundabout, sending pedestrians fleeing in all directions. Moments later, he had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting a cyclist. Now the area was awash with the din of police sirens. Willow swung back onto the road. He’d dodged the stagnant traffic and the police van, though only briefly: drivers manoeuvred their vehicles out of its way, allowing it access.
‘We’re now heading down Northumberland Avenue, and as you can probably hear, the police want to have a word,’ said AJ calmly. Harry wished he could feel even half as calm.
Willow overtook a bus, causing on-coming vehicles to swerve, then hogged the crown of the road determinedly. Other drivers got out of his way but one, driving a yellow Honda, was not alert enough, and the Bentley hit it head-on. Willow swore and Harry and his friends shot forward. Their creams and groans filled the car.
Without hesitating, Willow negotiated around the Honda and was off, racing in the middle of the road again. This is madness, thought Harry, fearing for his life. How much longer could they avoid the pursuing police? How much more abuse could the Bentley take? How much more could he?
‘Coming to the end of Northumberland Avenue,’ AJ announced calmly.
Ahead, Harry could see boats on the river; they had reached the Victoria Embankment. He didn’t see the police car pull up in front of them, blocking their path.
‘Everyone, hold on!’ Willow cried.
Harry gripped the seat in front of him; Willow wasn’t slowing down. Amelia’s scream pierced the air, as the Bentley rammed the police car, pushing it onto the Victoria Embankment. Harry’s head hit the roof of the car.
Then, suddenly - BANG! A Mercedes slammed into the back door, where Mitch was sitting. He hollered out in pain, and then Amelia screamed again. Harry turned to look at Mitch. Blood was pouring from a head wound, and his leg was twisted around the caved-in door.
Willow floored the accelerator and raced eastwards, along the Embankment in a car which less than 10 minutes earlier, was worth £180,000, and was now a wreck. Steam billowed out from under the bonnet and the engine laboured, but somehow managed to maintain a decent speed.
Harry took a quick glance behind: police cars with their headlights on full beam, and blue lights flashing in hot pursuit, and closing in on them. Then, to his horror, more police cars were fanned across both lanes ahead, headlights blazing and blue lights pulsating. It was a formidable sight. The game’s up, he thought, with dull resignation
‘We’re close now,’ said AJ, calmly. ‘Coming up to Savoy Street, now.’
Willow spoke over his shoulder. ‘When we stop, you’ve got to follow me and AJ really quickly. We quick, we should have enough…’
‘What about Mitch?’ Amelia cried. ‘He’s badly injured.’
Willow shook his head. ‘Sorry, Mitch, we’re going to have to leave you. You can tell them you were all kidnapped. You’ll be in the clear. And you’ll get medical attention.’
‘That’s not right,’ Amelia protested, angrily.
As a left turn approached, just before Waterloo Bridge, Willow yanked the handbrake and slid the car into a screeching skid, stopping at the mouth of the street. After powering up the street for 50 yards, he stamped on the brakes.
‘Right, everybody out, now!’ he screamed.
‘We’re here, we’re here!’ AJ told his listener.
Mitch remained in his seat, crouched in pain, as his friends exited through the other door.
‘Sorry Mitch,’ said Amelia, helplessly.
‘No time for that,’ said Willow, sharply. ‘Come on! Move!’
Harry got out feeling woozy, as the sirens were deafening; the police were moments away from the abandoned Bentley, angled across in the road, where steam shot up into the air, hissing loudly from the engine and oil formed rapidly beneath it. Amelia staggered out. When she stumbled, Asad grabbed her.
‘Willow!’ shouted AJ, pointing at Amelia.
Willow dashed back to pick her up, then make for a grey-bricked church, surrounded by gardens, the holdall over his shoulder, Amelia over the other.
The wrecked Bentley blocking the road was enough to the prevent the police from seeing Willow leading the others to the church. The sound of a helicopter throbbed somewhere overhead.
AJ reached the steps to the church first. A heavily-built woman stood in the entrance. ‘Come on, inside,’ she urged. ‘You’re cutting this pretty fine.’
She glanced up at the sky, as the helicopter buzzed close above the rooftops. Once everyone was in the church, she shut and locked the doors, muffling the sound of the helicopter. She moved quickly the nave, and the others followed. The helicopter sounded louder here; much louder, as if it was directly overhead.
Harry noticed a man standing behind the last row of wooden chairs. At his feet, was a large, up-turned concrete flagstone. He held a yellow, heavy duty torch, and greeted them with a warm smile and stepped back, allowing the big woman in to the void first. She took the torch from him as she disappeared into the blackness. AJ was next; he descended down a ladder fixed to the subterranean wall. Willow lowered the dazed Amelia down into his arms.
Suddenly, the locked church doors were shaken hard, snapping Willow into action. ‘Everybody down,’ he said, glancing at the side windows. He pushed Ryan towards the opening, then rested his hands on Asad’s shoulders, as he crouched near the hole, waiting for Ryan to go below. ‘Go on, Asad,’ said Willow, tapping his shoulders. ‘Down you go.’
Harry took his turn next. When he got near the bottom, AJ was there to guide him to the ground. Willow was next, followed by the other man, who fastened down the slab, reducing them to semi-darkness. The big woman already had the torch on, and its industrial-strength brightness lit a long tunnel.
‘We’re safe now,’ said the man, stepping off the ladder onto dry cobbles. ‘By the way, I’m Magnus.’
Willow introduced the teenagers to him by name as they set off. ‘And that’s Linda,’ he told them. She raised her hand, acknowledging Willow’s words, and led the way. Willow put his arm around Amelia’s shoulders. ‘How you feeling?’
‘Better, thanks.’
‘What were those canister things, fired at the police, back at the hotel?’ Harry asked him.
‘Rubber bullets,’ replied Willow, ‘fired by our guardian angel.’
‘Ah,’ said Magnus, nodding. ‘You took my advice, and had someone watching over you, after all?’
‘Yes, and believe me, we needed it,’ Willow replied, with a laugh.
The tunnel was made of red brick, and no more than three feet wide, and just over six feet high. With Linda leading the way, their footsteps echoed off the walls. A deep rumbling sound grew louder.
‘What’s that?’ Amelia whispered, nervously.
‘The District Line,’ said Magnus.
‘Or Circle,’ AJ suggested.
Magnus chuckled. ‘Or Circle. Years ago, I could tell the difference between them - the trains sound different.’
Harry felt bemused by the latest development in their ongoing nightmare. Here they were – in the middle of what should have been a carefree holiday in Cornwall, walking along a narrow tunnel under the centre of London. Who else even knew of it, he wondered. Where were they being taken now? And what would happen next?
He thought of Mitch. What was happening to him now? Not only was he hurt, but was now in the hands of the authorities. Would they believe his story? When was all this going to end? He had almost forgotten that he might soon be a millionaire! But that thought brought more worries, more questions. Where was the treasure now? Was it safe? Would they ever get their hands on it? He hoped they hadn’t gone through all this for nothing.
‘We’re now under King’s College,’ said Magnus, sounding rather pleased with the fact.
‘Where are we going?’ Asad asked, agitatedly.
’Somewhere safe,’ Willow replied.
A rumble came from beyond, as another tube train went by.
Harry was very curious when they passed a wooden door along the tunnel. Was there a labyrinth of tunnels down here?
After walking for five minutes, they came to several concrete steps leading up to a wooden door, which Linda unlocked. It opened onto a small room. Still using the torch, she crossed the room, opened another door and climbed another flight of stairs. Harry presumed they had just left a cellar. When the Linda opened a third door and stepped into a short hallway, he knew he was right. They gathered in a wood-panelled walkway, with dark polished floorboards, and walls adorned with paintings in elaborate, gold frames adorned the walls.
Willow opened one of four doors in the hallway and entered another room. A young woman sat on an antique settee, and more framed paintings hung on the walls.
‘Take a seat,’ said Willow, removing the holdall and placing it on the floor. He dug inside it and brought out the stone.
Ryan sat in an armchair, as did Amelia. Asad and Harry remained standing.
‘Where’s the other one?’ asked the young women.
‘In the hands of the constabulary, I’m afraid,’ Willow replied. He stood close to the antique settee, and nodded towards her. ‘By the way, this is Jenny.’ He went on to name the teenagers.
‘Ah,’ said Magnus when Willow passed the stone to him. ‘At last!’ Magnus took it, inspecting it closely. ‘Fascinating.’
Harry studied Jenny. She was pretty. Long, straight, dark hair framed her face, and an enigmatic smile never left her lips. To Harry, she seemed bemused by their presence. Magnus had a dark jumper draped over his shoulders; he looked as if he’d just stepped off a yacht. His light-coloured casual trousers and expensive plimsolls seemed to endorse Harry’s observation. As she took the stone from Magnus, her face lit up. ‘Wow!’ She stroked it, then traced a finger along its strange markings.
As they studied the stone, Harry took in the view through the windows of a large garden with a neatly trimmed lawn. Trees and flowerbeds added to the pleasant setting. Harry’s gaze then fell to a fountain on the far side of the gardens, and beyond that and railings, a bridge crossing the Thames, which looked like Waterloo Bridge. ‘Where are we, Willow?’
‘Temple.’
But what is it. Who occupies these buildings?’
‘Major law firms, mostly.’
Harry turned from the window and looked at the strangers in the room. ‘And who are these people?’
‘We all work for Aduersus,’ said Magnus, looking up from the stone. ‘And we all hold important positions in society. Positions beneficial to the cause. I’m a telecommunications expert, Jenny’s an astrophysicist, a good one at that. Linda is a Permanent Secretary at Westminster. That comes in very handy when we need an insight into Government matters.’
‘I can’t believe Charles told you not to test the stone,’ said Jenny. ‘You know he won’t answer our call?’
Willow snorted and shook his head. ‘He’s stopped answering our calls, too.’
‘He is travelling back from aboard,’ Magnus reminded them.
‘Hmm,’ said Willow, thoughtfully. ‘When’s he due back?’
‘He’s doing his best to get here late afternoon.’
‘Who’s Charles?’ asked Harry.
‘Just someone involved with Aduersus,’ Willow replied.
Harry looked to Willow’s new associates for answers, hoping that they’d be more forthcoming. ‘Who does the stone actually belong to? I know it’s from another world.’
Jenny, Magnus and Linda were clearly surprised at Harry’s knowledge.
‘What are you doing, telling them things they shouldn’t know?’ Magnus demanded.
‘I didn’t tell them,’ Willow replied, bitterly. ’Harry got in touch with a ufologist, who told him about the two Sphinx’s heads.’
Magnus glowered at Harry. ‘They shouldn’t be privy to such information. What were you thinking of, contacting a ufologist?’
Harry became angry too. ‘Why not!? And if it wasn’t for us, you wouldn’t have the damn stone.’
’I’m sorry,’ said Magnus, resolutely. ‘They need to go into a safe house, whilst this matter is taken care of. It’s for their own good.’
Willow rubbed his facial stubble thoughtfully, and pacing slowly around the room. He exchanged a long stare with Linda, before going to the window and looking at the garden. After a few moments, he turned and addressed the teenagers. ‘Magnus is right, you must all go to a safe house, for your own protection.’
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