London Belongs to the Alchemist (Class Heroes Book 4) Read online

  “Stand up,” Daddy said to the interrogator, his voice taking on that familiar commanding tone. The man obeyed, staggering to his feet, one hand clutching his nose.

  “Daddy, what are you doing?” asked Lolly.

  “Recruitment, darling,” he replied in a hoarse whisper, and then faced the man again.

  For a second, Lolly thought her father was going to pass out. He closed his eyes, swayed, and had to hold onto the table for support. He urgently needs food and rest, she thought.

  Eventually he opened his eyes.

  “Who are you?” her father asked the man.

  “Alan Parkinson-Watt, Director General of the Security Service,” the man replied woodenly.

  “I’m impressed,” her father said with a weak smile. “I bet you wish your interrogation technique was as good as mine.” He paused for a few seconds. Alan Parkinson-Watt waited patiently.

  “Who have the reports of my interrogation been passed up to?”

  “Nobody” replied the man. “Access is for my eyes only. Even the Home Secretary has no knowledge of you.”

  “You don’t trust anybody,” observed her father, apparently amused. “Occupational hazard of the spymaster. You’ve been recording my interrogations, of course?”

  “Yes.”

  Where is the information stored?”

  “MI5 secure archive.”

  “Where is the person in charge of monitoring and recording my interrogations?”

  “Upstairs in the house.”

  “I’ve already met him,” said Lolly, brightly. “He’s got a whole bank of monitors and computers. I destroyed them but I didn’t kill him.”

  Her father considered.

  “What is your access password?”

  “Mephistopheles-percent-seven-eight-eight-one,” intoned the spymaster.

  “Thank you. From now on, Alan, you report to me, do you understand?”

  “I understand,” the man affirmed.

  “Good. I’ll contact you shortly with your instructions. What is your phone number?”

  The spymaster dutifully told him.

  “Thank you,” said her father. “Now tell me why James Blake is here.”

  “One of my agents was killed. Jennifer Stannard, the agent who brought you in. It transpired that she knew more about people like you than we realized. We found a file on her computer when we searched her house. She’d been running a secret operation with the Blake family. She’s been trying to prevent their abilities from being discovered. I sent a team to pull them in last night, but we only got the parents. James Blake was found in New Cross this morning with a gunshot wound.”

  “Is the whole Blake family here?” asked her father.

  “No. The daughter hasn’t been found yet. I may have to bring in the grandparents too. The girl might try to contact them.”

  “No. You will halt the search for Samantha Blake. Do not involve the grandparents. You will cease all investigations into the Blake family. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. Arresting the Blakes will be attributed to a mistake. Acknowledge.”

  “Yes, a mistake,” agreed the spymaster.

  “Thank you, Alan. Now go to sleep. When you wake up, you’ll tell people that my daughter knocked you out.”

  Alan slid silently to the floor, fast asleep.

  “We need to get you some food,” fussed Lolly, putting her arm around her father again. He was desperately weak, and slumped as soon as she held him.

  She led her father to the kitchen next door. To her relief, the fridge contained pre-packed sandwiches, chocolate bars, muffins, and fizzy drinks.

  She removed a sandwich from its wrapping and handed it to her father, who immediately began eating, gratefully.

  “We need to rescue James, Daddy,” said Lolly. She tried to hide her anxiety, to not rush him.

  “We will. But we need to get back to your computer man first,” he managed, in between bites of sandwich. With every mouthful, the colour returned to his face and he slowly looked more like her father again.

  “But Daddy, I can go up there and get him while you eat?”

  “Be patient. He’ll come to no harm.”

  “But what if they take him away? There’s already armed police in the house. More will be coming. Can’t you make the spymaster stop all this so we can rescue James?” Lolly heard the desperation in her own voice. Her father gave her a look.

  “If Alan did that now, they would know that I had used my influence on him. He’s an asset for the future. Now, I need you to do as you are told, sweetheart. First things first.”

  Lolly swallowed hard. She felt childish and silly. She hadn’t experienced that for a long time. She’d defied her father many times in the past and got herself into trouble. But somehow that had been different. It had always felt like she was playing, pushing boundaries, testing him to see how much he loved her. But for the last eight months she had been making decisions for herself and living with the consequences. It was a jolt to go from being, well, in charge, to being a kid again and instructed by her ‘daddy’ to do as she was told. Even calling him ‘daddy’ seemed ridiculous now, but she didn’t argue.

  ***

  Lolly led her father back up the stairs when he had finished eating. The fire that she had started in the first room had spread into the corridor. That would help keep the police out.

  She took them into the study. The computer equipment was still smouldering but the fire in this room hadn’t spread any further. The technical guy was just getting to his feet, dazed and clutching his head.

  Her father put a supporting arm around the man and helped him to a chair.

  There were flashing blue lights playing on the ceiling. Lolly checked the window. The courtyard was empty, but just beyond it was the main gate and behind that she could see two police cars and a police van.

  There were armed figures on the rooftops opposite and no doubt many more taking up positions all around the house. What if they were already dropping in to the rooms above? No, don’t be stupid Lolly. There was no way to access the roof from the neighbouring properties. But what about helicopters? Her thoughts kept returning to one person.

  “We have to find James,” she implored her father, but he ignored her.

  He was leaning over the bewildered computer man, who gasped and pressed himself further back in his chair as if shrinking away from the devil.

  “It’s all right, I promise.” Her father spoke in assured and soothing tones. Instantly, the man’s face became calmer. “I’m your friend. What’s your name?”

  “Ian. Ian Carmine.”

  “Ian, what level of access do you have to the MI5 IT infrastructure?”

  “I have level 5 clearance. The top level.”

  “Excellent. Ian, are any of the computer terminals still working?”

  Ian looked across at the charred wreckage.

  “My laptop.”

  Sir Michael nodded.

  Suddenly there was the shattering noise of a voice from outside, broadcast over a megaphone.

  “Attention inside. Give yourselves up and come out peacefully.”

  “Daddy, come on!” wheedled Lolly, virtually hysterical. “They might already have people inside. What about James?” Why wasn’t he taking her seriously?

  Her father placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “Listen to me. I want you to delete all files relating to myself, Lauren Rosewood, James Blake and the Blake family. Remove any information regarding Jennifer Stannard’s secret operation, too. You’ll need the Director General’s password to remove all the files. It is Mephistopheles-percent-seven-eight-eight-one. Can you do that?”

  “I can do that,” affirmed Ian. Sir Michael handed him the laptop and Ian started tapping away at the keyboard.

  A second later and the window exploded, sending glass and plaster into the room. The metal frames collapsed inwards. Lolly braced herself. The police had put a small explosive on the window, which meant that
armed men would soon be swinging in.

  Ian had been protected from the blast and the debris by the high backed chair, and it hadn’t spoilt his concentration at all.

  As the first officer came through the window, Lolly hurled one of the charred monitor screens at his head. The guy dropped to the ground, senseless. Lolly directed a spread of fire through the window to discourage any further attempts.

  “It’s done,” Ian reported.

  “Excellent,” said Sir Michael. “Lolly, kill him and the woman.”

  Lolly heard the words but she couldn’t take them in.

  “What?” she asked, feeling stupid.

  “Kill Ian and his colleague. And that policeman, for good measure.”

  He looked at her expectantly.

  “But… why?” she asked.

  Lolly didn’t think she’d ever seen her father look so surprised. And with good reason. Usually, Lolly didn’t need to be told once to kill somebody, let alone twice. More often her father was trying to curb her enthusiasm.

  “I’ve removed us from the records. Ian and the girl could potentially recover the files. I don’t like to hurt people unnecessarily but these two have to die.”

  Still Lolly didn’t move. Ian looked at her without fear, without any emotion, like a cow waiting to be slaughtered. The woman was unconscious. She’d never know anything about it.

  “Lolly, come on,” her father urged. “There will be reinforcements arriving. Hurry.”

  “I… I…” said Lolly. Her father just looked perplexed.

  The voice from the megaphone echoed through the room again, instructing them to give themselves up or face the consequences.

  Her father picked up the machine gun dropped by the policeman. Lolly watched in shock as he fired a short, rapid blast at Ian, the woman and the unconscious officer. Finally, he destroyed the laptop.

  Still holding onto the gun, he took Lolly by the hand.

  “Come on, sweetheart. It’s ok, I’m back. You don’t have to worry anymore. Let’s go and find your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” she replied automatically, but without the usual flush of embarrassment she got when talking to her father about a boy. Not that her father was listening.

  Numbly, Lolly allowed herself to be led back into the corridor and up the stairs.

  Behind them, there was another explosion and the main door crashed inwards.

  Chapter 59

  Tear-gas canisters dropped onto the white tiled floor and the chemical vapour began mixing with the thick smoke in the corridor. Lolly hurled two fireballs back down the stairs.

  She scanned the landing. The bannisters were smouldering and her eyes were stinging. There were four doors to choose from. Her father tried the nearest. The room was empty. Then he tried the second. Success.

  Two men in medical scrubs were standing at the foot of a large, four-poster bed, upon which James Blake was lying. An IV drip was attached to his arm and the oxygen mask still covered his face.

  The doctors looked scared and made no effort to stop either Lolly or her father from approaching the bed.

  Lolly swallowed hard.

  “You can leave either by the door or the window,” she said, trying to stay calm.

  The doctors chose the door. Would her father have shot them if they had hesitated for a moment longer?

  Lolly leaned across the bed and removed James’s mask. His eyes were open, but he didn’t appear to recognize her, nor did he move any other part of his body. Drugged, maybe? Perhaps some of this medical equipment wasn’t just to help him recover.

  She ripped the IV drip from his hand and tore off the bloodied bandage from his chest. It was bruised, but there was no sign of any serious damage. The blood, such as it was, was dry.

  She tried rubbing his face and moving his head from side to side.

  “James? James, can you hear me? Can you wake up?”

  There was an incoherent muttering sound from the back of his throat, but clearly he didn’t know what day it was.

  Lolly looked back at her father. He was watching the door, gun ready.

  “Can you carry him?” he asked.

  Lolly should have felt foolish doing what she did next, but somehow it just seemed right. She kissed James on the lips. Softly, tenderly, holding back the wave of passion and the thrill she felt running through her body.

  And there was something else, too. She’d experienced it before when she was making shortbread for James in the Blakes’ kitchen. It felt like her body was glowing with the satisfaction of caring for somebody else. He was so helpless and she longed to take him home and keep him safe. He was hers! James was the only guy who really got her. It didn’t matter that he was nearly two years younger than her, no more than a boy, really. There was something about him that she couldn’t bear to be without.

  Her father, for the first time that Lolly could remember, looked embarrassed and made an exaggerated show of watching the door very closely.

  “I’ll check the other rooms,” he said, awkwardly. “The landing is clear.”

  Lolly kissed James again and he moaned. Then he spoke. His voice had a faraway quality, as though he was locked in a dream.

  “Lolly.”

  Lolly nearly wept with delight.

  “I’m here, James, it’s me.” She kissed him again, urgently this time, full of relief and passion.

  “It’s ok, James. I’m going to take you home,” she said, and she put her arms under his body and lifted him off the bed.

  “Although what are you wearing?” she asked, as she took in the remains of his bizarre onesie. Never mind. She had to keep him safe long enough for him to recover. Then, hopefully, he’d get them all to safety.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a burst of machine-gun fire and a scream from somewhere else in the house.

  “Daddy?” she cried out, instinctively. No reply.

  Lolly stood in the doorway of the bedroom, holding James. She would have to lay him down to investigate, but now he was in her arms she couldn’t bear to let go. It was weird. Her mission here had been to rescue her father and now she was more worried about a boy that, really, she barely knew.

  She stepped out onto the landing. The nearest window exploded, showering her and James with glass and knocking her to the floor. A figure clad in body armour swung in. He immediately dropped to his knees and brandished a machine gun.

  A second window exploded and another gunman made an equally startling entrance.

  Lolly was on her back and James’s dead weight was lying across her. She just managed to register that the first gunman had raised his weapon and was shouting at her to remain still. She had one arm free and used it to fling a fire bolt at him.

  The blast caught the guy on the chest. The body armour protected him from the flames but the force knocked him back out through the shattered window.

  The second guy had plenty of time to steady himself and shoot Lolly — but instead he charged at her and swung the butt of his gun at her head. Lolly had no time to protect herself. She instinctively closed her eyes, but nothing happened. When she opened them, she saw the gunman flying backwards through the air, hitting the ceiling and dropping to the floor.

  Lolly struggled to crane her neck forward. She was looking down at James’s dazed but half-smiling face. He was lying sideways across her, face up, one hand resting on her head, the other on her leg.

  “This is a bit like a dream I had the other night,” he joked, sleepily.

  Lolly almost squealed with delight.

  “I love you,” she exclaimed. She manoeuvred herself out from under his body and helped him into a sitting position, cradling his head back against her chest. She leaned over his shoulder and kissed him hard on the lips again. His smile suddenly became much wider and his pale, wan face took on a hint of colour. She helped him get to his feet. He had to tie the arms of his onesie around his waist to stop it falling down.

  A burst of gunfire sprayed bullets over their he
ads. James looked around him, bewildered. Armed officers had gathered in the hallway below, but the smoke and the flames still provided Lolly and James with a layer of protection. Lolly dropped a fiery bolt to the bottom of the stairs to add to the deterrent.

  The voice from the megaphone barked, “Lay down your weapons and surrender.”

  “It’s cool, it’s cool,” Lolly assured James, pulling him away from the bannisters.

  “Lolly, over here,” her father called.

  He was standing in the doorway of the bedroom at the far end of the landing, still brandishing the machine gun. Lolly helped James along the corridor and into the room where they came face to face with Yvonne and Roger Blake. They were sitting on the bed. Yvonne was crying, her head buried in her husband’s chest. Roger looked shell-shocked, like he didn’t know his own name. Lying on the floor next to the bed was the body of a man in his thirties, wearing a black leather jacket and jeans, surrounded by a pool of blood.

  “James!” exclaimed Roger, whereupon Yvonne looked up, dashed over to her son, and gathered him in her arms.

  “There’s no time for a reunion now,” Lolly’s father warned, checking the window. “We’re surrounded by armed police and they’ll be sending more people in. They know they can’t risk letting me go,” he added, immodestly. “James, can you teleport us out?”

  Lolly held her breath. How was James going to react?

  “Leave my son alone, Rosewood,” demanded Roger, squaring up to her father. “As far as I’m concerned, you deserve to be here. James can take us home, but you’re staying.”

  Lolly’s blood ran cold. Her father was capable of literally anything. Roger, despite all his righteous anger, was no match for him.

  Her father smiled.

  “So MI5 came and took you and your family in the middle of the night?” he pondered. “Just as I warned you that they would. Or are they holding you here as a favour?” he mocked.

  “That’s different,” insisted Roger.

  “Don’t be so naive,” her father snapped. “We’re all here for a reason. They have your name, they know where you live, they know about the twins’ powers. In these people’s mind, they are the same threat to national security as I am! Your lives, as they were, are over.” He turned on the spot in frustration. “Although maybe not,” he added.