London Escape (16 page)

Inevitably, I do both.

There is a single breathless second when I think I’m going to pass out or fall. Instead I look up at Jason and take the leap. At the exact moment when I think I’m not going to make it, I feel his hands grasp my forearms tight. Feet scrambling, I let him pull me up and over the edge. We collapse in an unceremonious heap on the ground. I allow myself a few brief seconds to catch my breath. I can feel his arms tight around me, his heart thundering in my ear, and for a moment I let myself feel the thrill of being alive and safe.

The moment doesn’t last long as he quickly stands up and hauls me to my feet. I’m just about to ask him what we should do next when he starts tapping frantically on the glass door of the suite next-door to the one we had been in.

Inside I spot an elderly couple just sitting down to their dinner. The man gets up and looks strangely at Jason. We must look really desperate and pathetic, because he opens the door.

“Young man, are you alright?” he asks.

“I am now, thank you!” Jason says as we push past as quickly as we can. We make a beeline for the door and tear it open.

We’re in the hallway now; the elevator is to our left at the end of the hall. The suite we just escaped from is to the right. I can hear more voices coming from both the suites, as we leave confusion in our wake. Again we are faced with a split-second decision. Jason makes it for us, shoving me quickly, not into the elevator, but into the stairwell. I pause, because I can’t help it. I can see the staircase spiraling down endlessly. My head swims worse than it did on the balcony. Jason is already down the first five stairs, brought to a halt when he realizes my hand has slipped from his grasp.

“Kit,” he whispers urgently. “Come on.”

I shake my head, knowing that I’m an idiot to be afraid, but unable to change the fact that my feet won’t move.

“We have to go.” He holds out his hand. We hear the crash of a door opening and footsteps thundering down the hall.

Just like on the balcony earlier, his eyes meet mine, and somehow I’m able to place my foot on the first step. Keeping my gaze low and my hand in his we fly down the stairs. We’ve just reached the halfway point when the stairwell echoes with the crack of gunshots. The Things are still a good floor above us, so the bullets miss. We’re running so fast now we’re in danger of falling, but we don’t slow down. Not even when more bullets ricochet off the wall above our heads. By the time we reach the bottom we’re both winded and I’m pretty sure I need to get outside fast before I throw up.

But this chase isn’t over yet. Thing One and Thing Two are still thundering down the stairs behind us. Even though I have eluded them once before, I’m not feeling so confident this time. And despite the fact he’s trying hard to hide it, Jason is slowing down. Clearly he’s weak from being tied to a chair for days. We come out of the stairwell and I realize we’ve ended up back in the underground car garage, which is good since I’m pretty sure no one would be happy to see the four of us in the hotel lobby.

Jason and I pause for a half a second and scan the garage. I don’t know what I’m looking for, maybe a red Mini Cooper with a white fender or maybe a familiar old man who always seems to show up at the last second, but I see neither. So I run instead.

I’m pulling Jason behind me now, out of the parking garage and onto the sidewalk. I know we’re going to have to stop soon, but first we have to get out of sight. Even though he’s looking a little worse for wear Jason hasn’t stopped thinking.

“In here,” he gasps, pulling me into a dank staircase leading under the road.

I follow him down into the Underground station. It’s a brilliant idea. The platforms are far too crowded for the Things to have any chance in spotting us. There’s no time to waste, so we both push past people and hurdle over the turnstiles before anyone can stop us. We jump into a train car just before the doors slide shut. It’s impossibly crowded, with barely enough room to stand. Somehow I’ve never felt better about being inside a stuffy train car full of smelly people. My eyes are glued to the window as we speed away. I think I just spot Thing Two searching the platform as we enter the tunnel.

Four stops go by before I release the breath I’ve been holding. Finally I give up inspecting every passenger that gets in our car too. Jason is leaning heavily on my shoulder and when two seats in the back finally free up I haul him over to sit down. He lays his head in my lap, clearly exhausted. I can’t help but gasp as I finally get a good look at him in the light.

He has definitely paid a price for keeping his silence about where he had hidden the necklace. His left eye and cheek are badly bruised and his lip is puffy and scabbed over. I reach down and brush his hair away from his forehead and see him smile.

“I’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” he mutters, cracking open one eye.

I scoff. “You’ve got that right.”

“Where do you want me to start?” he asks, closing his eyes again.

“At the beginning,” I say honestly. As far as I’m concerned we could ride this train until morning. As long as we are moving I feel safe.

“My father has been selling rare antiquities on the black market. V is his buyer,” he says at once.

I nod even though he can’t see me, that much of the story I have already figured out.

“How did you find out about the necklace?” I begin, just the first of many questions that have been forming in my mind over the past few days.

“I saw him looking at it one night in his office,” he begins. “I didn’t know what it was, but it looked valuable so I did a little digging. When I found out it was Queen Victoria’s necklace that had been missing for so long I assumed it was going into an exhibit at the Met or something. My father didn’t know I had seen him with it, and when he never brought it up to me or my mother I knew he was up to something. So I asked someone to help me hack his email, just to be sure.”

I start to ask who would do that, but then answer my own question. “Alexa,” I say.

“Yeah, Alexa,” he grins.

“But she’s been helping me all this time, why didn’t she mention that to me?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Because she never knew what the emails said. I didn’t want to get her mixed up in all of this. I just needed her help getting in. Anyway, right away I discovered a few suspicious emails back and forth between him and V regarding a package.”

“Yeah I saw one of the messages,” I interject.

“You did? Good.” He continues. “It became pretty apparent to me what was going on then. So I decided to steal it.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” his grin widens and he opens his eyes again.

I shake my head at him. “You really didn’t think this through, did you?”

“Of course I did,” he defends, sitting up suddenly. “I knew exactly what should be done with the necklace, the right thing. What my father was too spineless to do.”

“What would that be?”

“Return it to its rightful owners,” he says firmly.

“The British Royal family, then?” I ask, unable to stop the sarcasm that slips into my voice.

“Exactly.”

“How were you going to do that?” I ask. I can’t imagine anyone just waltzing into Buckingham Palace waving a priceless necklace that was stolen years ago, claiming they found it.

“Once I got to London I made an appointment with the curator at Buckingham Palace,” he says. “I told them I had some valuable information on the long-lost necklace. They agreed to meet with me and discuss it further, but I never admitted I actually had the necklace.”

“And you managed to make that appointment how?”

“I told them I was my father, of course,” he states matter-of-factly, but then he frowns. “This is where I ran into some trouble. They couldn’t get me in for another three weeks. I knew I couldn’t just sit on the necklace until then. It was only a matter of time before my father found out it was missing and alerted V. After that I knew someone would come for it, and me.”

“So you put it in the safety deposit box and left a trail so that only you or I could get to the necklace,” I finish.

“Pretty much,” he says with a nod. “I decided if it became worst-case scenario I could send you a quick text or email, tipping you off about the trail. That way someone would know what was going on, and someone else could keep the necklace safe.  I had no idea you would figure out what was going on before I even told you and warn me they were after me. Or that they would go to such great lengths to recover the necklace. It was good idea, in theory.”

“It was,” I mumble as I watch the doors hiss open, keeping my eyes open for the tall German brothers.

“Why me?” I ask suddenly. The question has been plaguing me all this week.

He looks at me in surprise for a moment. “Because I trust you.” Then with a grin, he adds, “And also because I knew you wouldn’t be able to turn down the chance for a little adventure.”

I’m about to voice my feelings toward this so-called adventure when I feel it, that uncomfortable tingling feeling I get when something is about to go wrong. I don’t stop to think, I just act.

Grabbing Jason’s hand I pull him to his feet and whisper, “We need to get off this train.”

We squeeze through the doors and onto the platform. I take a second to look behind me and confirm my suspicions. Thing One is pounding on the door in fury, now trapped inside the very car we had just vacated.

Jason and I head up the escalator, back to street level. I’ve lost track of what time it is now, but I know it’s late at night. We’ve ended up somewhere in the vicinity of Piccadilly Circus. Like the Underground, the streets are blessedly crowded. Once we’ve put a good distance between us and the Underground station, we pause to catch our breath.

“Where do we go now?” Jason asks as he scans the streets.

“We need to get back to your apartment,” I say firmly, finally remembering the second half of the plan I had formed this morning.

He looks at me sharply. “Are you crazy? That’s the last place we should go.”

I pull him in the direction I think will lead us back to his neighborhood, though by my estimation we’re now miles away. “No, it’s the last place they’ll look, I’m sure,” I protest, though I hardly think the statement is true.

He sighs and shakes his head. “No, they’re probably on their way there now, Kit.”

“It’s important we go back there,” I insist.

“Fine,” he sighs, finally giving in. Although I’m pretty sure he’s simply too tired to argue with me anymore. “But let’s find somewhere to hide out for now, give them a chance to check for us there first. We’ll go back in the morning.”

This makes me squirm a little, but I see the logic in his argument too. They might expect for us to head straight there.

“Where should we go?” My eyes take in the busy streets and flashing signs. None of these places seem very inconspicuous.

“I’m starving,” he says, with a nod towards a McDonalds across the street.

I sigh and follow him across the busy street and inside. It’s brightly lit and crowded despite the late hour. We fit in well with the groups of teenagers clustered around in the corners of the restaurant. Jason orders an obscene amount of cheeseburgers and we get a booth in the back. Sinking down low in my seat I nibble on a fry, never taking my eyes off the front entrance. I realize without even trying we’ve sat next to the emergency exit. I’m not sure if I should feel proud of myself for taking such precautions or horrified that I’m learning to think like a fugitive.

11. FUGITIVES

W
e don’t speak for the entire two hours we sit and wait. Mainly because Jason’s too busy inhaling every bit of food in sight and I’m too busy praying Mr. V hasn’t gone back to the apartment.

Finally I decide we’ve waited long enough. After tossing our trash we make our way back out onto the street. It’s less crowded now as the hour has become early morning instead of late evening. Jason and I huddle together, his arm draped casually over my shoulders, trying to look like a couple on their way home from partying instead of two teenagers seeking refuge from their kidnappers.

All I can think about is getting back to the apartment in time.

We go down to the Underground one more time and ride the several stops back to Jason’s neighborhood. I should be exhausted. Jason is dead on his feet. I can’t remember the last time I slept, but I’m wide awake. In fact I can feel my pulse thrumming with life. I chalk it up to a dangerous combination of fear and adrenaline.

Thunder rumbles overhead as we stand on the curb outside his building. Jason looks up at his apartment building and sighs, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Carefully I check the street for suspicious figures or cars and see none, so we go inside. Jason takes my hand as we climb the stairs together, though at this point I have more important things to be afraid of. Once inside the apartment we lock the door quickly behind us, not bothering to turn on the lights. I realize Jason has never even asked me why it is so important we returned here, despite the danger. I wonder briefly if he suspects my motives, or if his trust in me is that absolute.

I know he won’t be disappointed. I cross to the ransacked kitchen, my feet crunching on broken glass. I kneel and look around frantically, uttering a silent prayer. Finally my fingers close on cold metal. With a grin I stand and turn, holding the Star Wars lunch box out to him triumphantly.

He gives me a knowing smile and takes it. The box gives a loud rattle as he unlatches the lid. Inside, hidden by me before I went to meet Peter at the café, is Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee necklace. I hadn’t been lying when I told Peter I didn’t have it.

Jason gives a loud whoop of joy, and as he does I feel the back of my neck prickle yet again. I’m on him in a second, clapping a hand over his mouth. I stand there for a moment, utterly still and silent, straining to hear something, anything that would set off my sixth sense and alert me to any danger. Any minute now the Things could come pounding down the hallway, and I’m not about to be caught off guard again.

Coming back to the apartment had been a huge gamble, but completely necessary at the same time. When I switched the jewels before going to meet Peter I knew there would be a chance we wouldn’t even be able to make it back to collect the real thing at all. Still, I had thought having them hidden, possibly lost again, was still better than letting V get a hold of them.