Chapter 16

Trapped Doors

"When Tariq said this wouldn't be easy I didn't think he meant it would be suicidal." Lucas told Ros irritably as they wandered up the steep face of a lonely hill.

"I did say I loved a challenge..." Ros said, though she privately agreed with him.

"Next time, remind me to let you love it alone..."

They climbed over the top of the hill; they're burning calves relieved at finally reaching the summit and paused to examine the view. From their vantage point they could see the estate, a shapely blob on the horizon, the grand building looked quiet and deserted from a distance and seemed to be the dictionary definition of tranquillity. However they both knew better.

To their right was a large expanse of dense forest, bordered by a ferocious river that had forced them to ascend Pollyanna's version of Mount Everest, it was both their entrance and their escape route.

As it turned out, Tariq had not been exaggerating about the security at the Kieran estate, cameras everywhere, continually scanning every square inch of the large building, over fifty armed security guards at entrances and exits as well as being spread out over the house and grounds in regular patrols. It had soon become apparent that conventional methods were not going to get them in and they had been forced to get creative in order to get inside, hence the reason that Ros and Lucas were currently skulking outside the forest, over a mile from the building they wanted to be in.

"You remember where you're going, or do I need to direct you?" Ruth's voice asked, concerned, in Ros' ear.

"I don't, but the human sat-nav does, stop fussing Ruth we're fine." She replied shortly before squinting at Lucas and saying, "Tell me you remember?"

"And if I say no?"

"I'll give you a bloody good reason to remember."

He smirked and led them into the forest, methodically marking trees with a small pocket knife and a piece of chalk, occasionally closing his eyes as they went.

"What's your problem with Ruth?" he asked, as they navigated through the dense, oppressive trees.

Ros considered this irritably for a few moments before consenting to say, "She just...irritates me."

"God help me if that's all it takes for you to bite someone's head off every time they open their mouths."

"I don't have a problem with the fact that it's her opening her mouth, I have a problem with what comes out of it, bloody patronising..."

"She's good at what she does Ros-"

"I never said she wasn't-"

"That's the problem, you don't have to say anything for it to come across like that, you should ease up on her a little."

"Doesn't take much for you all to jump aboard the S.S Evershed does it?" she snapped,

"It's safer there than on the battleship Myers." He told her with a grimace, "Look, I'm not asking you to marry her; just don't jump down her throat every ten seconds."

"You know Harry did that." She said, evasively, changing the subject,

"What?"

"Asked her to marry him."

"About time..."

"She said no."

"Doesn't surprise me, it would have been too...I don't know too,"

"Too perfect for the tragic little Romeo and Juliet portrait they've been busy painting."

"He deserves to be happy Ros...They both do..."

"That's the trouble with Juliet, she gets what she wants and they both end up dead."

Lucas rolled his eyes and shook his head, giving her up as a lost cause for the moment, concentrating on their surroundings again, when he suddenly stopped in the centre of a large clearing causing Ros to walk into him, snarling. This did nothing to improve her mood and sensing that his head was in imminent danger of being torn off he said,

"We're here."

"Really? We've reached our destination? Because this looks like every other bloody clearing we've walked through in the last forty minutes, God rest your soul if I have to call Ruth and tell her we're lost, what makes you so sure?"

"The thing you're standing on." He replied, mildly.

Snarling she reached down and cleared away the dense layer of leaves covering the thick, well concealed door, she gave the small, ornate brass ring a sharp tug, lifting up a trap door to reveal a set of rough stone steps descending ominously into the belly of the earth.

"You sure about this?" she murmured quietly, feeling a little claustrophobic herself.

"You fancy directing yourself down there without the help of your human sat-nav?" he teased, gently, concealing the flash of irritation at her sudden concern, wishing he had held his tongue about his burial in Russia.

"How hard can it be?" she said, cautiously shining a torch down into the gloom, they could both see that the path split almost immediately, as soon as the stairs hit level ground, "All roads lead to Rome..." she muttered, uncertainly, fearing for his sanity in the enclosed warren beneath them.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that...There's a maze of tunnels down there, they may all start from the same place but they all connect together in some way, think of a rabbit's version of the London Underground without the helpful maps, not somewhere you want to go for a casual wander..." he told her, defiance shining in his intense eyes, though his tone was completely neutral as he continued, "We should check in with The Grid before we go, our comms won't work underground, we'll be off the radar for a couple of hours."

Not sure which she was more irritated about, his imprisonment in Russia, or the damn pig-headed stubbornness it had bred within him, she accepted defeat and angrily called The Grid,

"Tariq, we found the entrance-"she began,

"Really?" he asked impressed,

"You're not inspiring me here Tariq." She said, warningly, "Are you sure that if we make it to the entrance you can get us inside?"

"Provided that nothing unfortunate happens to your tour guide and you make it to the house, I can get you in. There are patrols that move past your exit but they're predictable enough for us to get around."

"Wonderful." She said, drily, hanging up.

Lucas was quietly recreating the plans they were basing their efforts on with the chalk on a large flat stone lodged in the earth behind them.

"Are you sure about this or should we start drawing straws to decide who eats who now?"

In response he removed his ear piece and descended into the cramped tunnel with a small smile, forcing her to follow.

They had been walking along the path for about twenty minutes, it was fortunately about seven feet high, which meant that it comfortably accommodated both of them when Ros said, "To be honest, I never expected this to exist in the first place."

"Why not?"

"Just seems too...I don't know, too James Bond."

Lucas chuckled, "Not at all, paranoia isn't a modern invention; these tunnels have been cropping up in old country houses and churches across Britain, put in place either by criminals, or wealthy owners with too much money and no cure for greed and insanity for hundreds of years. The practice is actually older than that, similar tunnels have been found in ancient Egyptian tombs, to trap potential robbers. There are more modern examples too, the Cu Chi tunnels were used by guerrilla fighters during the Vietnam War as supply routes and hideouts for the rebels involved in the Tet Offensive in the capital..."

"It must be nice to know the answer to every little thing." Ros said, as the tunnels narrowed ahead, making her feel as though they were being squeezed through the blood vessels of some strange beast.

"There were dozens of them in the house I grew up in." He shrugged, "I was curious."

They continued down the tunnel, Lucas pausing for a fraction of a second wherever the tunnel split, pausing before choosing the branch of the catacombs and moving down with a confidence that ensured Ros didn't complain about his minor hesitations.

They were both beginning to tire of the tunnels. The air around them was stale and heavy and they both longed for fresh air in the deadening passages, something, anything, other than the suffocating monotony of their underground maze.

When they reached a large chamber that branched off into four identical tunnels Lucas paused, and wordlessly handed her a bottle of water as he closed his eyes and began murmuring to himself, scratching on the wall of the cavern with the chalk he had been dragging along the wall to mark their progress.

As she took a grateful drink she watched him carefully out of the corner of her eye, he was pale and clammy, not that she could blame him considering, but also looked concerned, whether from concentration or claustrophobia, she could not tell.

"Have we come to the point where we start drawing straws?" she asked, lightly, offering him the water.

"Not quite...This section was faded on the maps, I'm trying to decide which way is the best to go...Either way, I don't think it's far now."

"Good." She muttered, unable to stop herself.

He smiled ruefully, understanding as he said, "I'd estimate about fifteen minutes."

Lucas' prediction rang true and, despite the fact it felt like a week on paperwork duty to Ros, they reached the end of the tunnel in less than twenty minutes when they hit a thin grate that led into a storage cupboard, a simple panel giving the illusion that it was a blocked air vent.

Cautiously, they reconnected their comms, wincing at the sound of their own heartbeats, seeming painfully loud in the small space, both of them acutely aware of the footsteps moving beyond, with nothing but a thin, flimsy wooden door between them and discovery.

"Tariq?" Ros breathed cautiously and was rewarded by the ecstatic response,

"Ros! You made it?"

"Yes, we're in, now how do we get out?"

"OK, I take it just now you're in a cupboard of sorts and not just floating around in the middle of the wall?" Tariq said, consulting the floor plans beside him.

"Congratulations Sherlock, how do we get out?"

"Elementary my dear Rosalind."

"Tariq." She growled through gritted teeth as Lucas snorted into his coat sleeve, "You have five seconds to make me forget that you said that."

"Right, OK, when I tell you, get out of the cupboard, walk about fifty feet to your left, turn right, walk to the end of the corridor, follow it round to the left and enter the room at the end, that'll take you to the room the talks are going to be held in."

"OK, how much time do we have either side?"

"How long's a piece of string?" she could see him shrugging, irritatingly in front of her.

"How long does it have to be to make a tech-sized noose?"

"Right, well, someone walks by each room roughly every eight minutes, and keep in mind that that door will be locked, so..."

"Excellent."

"Well you do love a challenge." Lucas whispered in her ear.

She elbowed him in the ribs, causing his eyes to water as she caught his injured shoulder.

Ros carefully removed the thin grate in front of them, silently cursing the load, protests it made as she slid it out of place, setting it on the floor behind a bucket. Together they crept slowly from the cramped, tunnel, pausing to hastily slide the grate back in place and crouched, cautiously at the door, weapons drawn, every muscle in their bodies tensed.

They heard strong, purposeful footsteps stride past the door and seconds later Tariq hissed,

"OK, go."

"What? There's no way-"

"Trust me, go now!" he snapped, cutting vehemently across her.

Swearing and mentally picking out the song that would be played at his funeral is this got them killed, she wrenched open the door and dived to her left, Lucas at her heels, feeling as exposed as if she was strolling down Camden naked in January, Ros obeyed Tariq's instructions and they, miraculously, made it to the door undetected.

"OK, you've got about three and a half minutes." Tariq told them as Lucas dropped to his knees, lock pick already in hand.

"Are you trying for some sort of record here Tariq?" he snarled, "That's not enough time."

"It better be." Tariq and Ros snapped simultaneously.

"Cover me." Lucas told Ros shortly.

"And what do you propose I do if someone comes round the corner?" she hissed, never before had the gun in her hand felt so useless.

"You're an intelligent woman Ros, I'm sure you'll think of something."

She waited for a tense few minutes in the silence that made the time they had spent in the tunnels feel like a weekend in Barbados compared with the agonising wait Lucas was now torturing her with, until she heard footsteps in the corridor running parallel to theirs, heading towards them.

"Lucas, hurry up." Tariq breathed, unhelpfully.

"Lucas?" she said, warningly when he failed to respond.

"Minute." He hissed back,

"It better be a bloody quick minute!"

She pressed herself against the door, knowing it would offer no protection from the searching eyes of the advancing officer. Seconds before they rounded the corner, Ros toppled into the room as the lock finally shifted with a satisfying click.

Pressed against the other side of the door that Lucas had hastily swung back into place, they heard the footsteps retreat, Lucas fully closed the door again, re-locking it and turning to Ros who had slid down the panelled wall in relief.

"Leave it a little later next time why don't you Lucas?" Harry's voice said, evidently the rest of the team had joined Tariq.

Now that they were in no imminent danger of being found and shot, Lucas and Ros took the chance to look around the large, luxurious room. In the centre of the room was a large, thick, oak table that looked like an ice rink, the polished surface gleaming in the weak, morning sunlight. Above the table an enormous chandelier twinkled mockingly at them, suspended from a thick silver chain, like a giant Victorian glitter ball. The room itself was coated in beautiful oak panelling that ran around the room, the large walk-in-wardrobe to their left seamlessly incorporated into it. The room had originally been a bedroom, and when it had been converted, rather than rip out the beautiful wardrobe, the owners had chosen to keep it, using it as a coat hanger during meetings. The craftsmanship was such, that it was difficult to tell where the wardrobe was, meaning that the only break in the ornate woodwork were the floor length windows on the opposite wall.

Peeling themselves from the floor, they slowly moved over to the window, both of them magnetically attracted to the giant, 'snipers welcome here' beacons that were glaring, mockingly at them from the across the polished wooden table.

Carefully manipulating the handles, Lucas found that the window would swing smoothly into the room on well oiled hinges, leaving a gaping wound in the wall, more than capable of accommodating a bullet. Ros leaned out of it, getting a better look at their surroundings,

"Shit." She muttered as Lucas, also glancing out, experienced similar feelings.

"What?" demanded a chorus of frustrated voices in their ears,

"It's like a giant square doughnut..." Lucas muttered hollowly, looking out at the sickening courtyard beyond

"Short of holding these talks in the basement, there's nowhere they can't get to them." Ros said, for the benefit of anyone who was struggling with the concept of Lucas' doughnut metaphor.

"What now?" Ruth asked softly,

Harry answered, "These talks must go ahead, any attempt to stop them or prevent the President from attending now would be catastrophic, we'll just have to stop them from the inside, we have enough information to know what and when this attack is, that should be enough. Search the room for their bugs, plant ours and then check back in, we'll see where we go from there, no-one should disturb you." He said, firmly.

"Harry, whatever my personal feelings towards the man, we cannot use the American President as a piece of meat and hope we can yank him out of the lion enclosure in time!" Ros snarled,

"We can and we will, I take it that the combined efforts of the British government and security services can stop one lunatic with a gun?" Harry snapped, "This is not a negotiation Ros, do it."

"Is it time to start packing for Switzerland yet?" Ros hissed, as Harry disconnected their comms to allow them to plant the bugs in peace.

"No...He's right Ros, we don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice..."

"Don't pull your philosophical crap on me, what would you do in his position?"

"Not this." She replied, stubbornly,

"Then what? We don't have any other option that won't lead to a collapse of any chance we have at peace. These talks have to go ahead, the President will just have to deal with being used as a worm on a hook for the next three days, shouldn't be too difficult for him."

Reluctantly seeing some sense in what he was saying, she joined him in examining the room for any bugs before carefully helping him to plant their own.

They had been working in a tense silence for a little over half an hour; they're jangled nerves gradually becoming more accustomed to the threatening footsteps that trotted, warningly past their door every few minutes, when a rattle at the doorknob and hushed, excitable voices made them both freeze.

"We can't! We really, really can't." A woman's voice giggled on the other side of the door.

"We shouldn't...doesn't mean we won't."

Ros and Lucas stared at one another in horror as their muscles contracted in horror.

She laughed again and said, "But it's locked."

"I have a key." He replied, smirking, proving this last statement as they heard it being inserted into the lock.

Lucas jumped noiselessly from the table and pulled open the door to the walk-in-wardrobe and hissed to Ros,

"Come on."

"Lucas! We need something better than hoping we're going to topple into bloody Narnia!" she snarled.

"Ros, in now!" he snapped, dragging her inside as the door was thrown, grandly open.

"What the Hell!" the woman explained as Ros and Lucas stared at each other in horror; sure they had left it too late.

"What's wrong?" he asked,

"There was someone in here; I saw something dart into that wardrobe, just there as you opened the door." She said, pointing insistently to Ros and Lucas' hiding place.

"You're crazy." He said, dismissively

"No, no I'm, not, check it if you don't believe me."

Lucas and Ros glanced at each other as the defiant footsteps marched towards the wardrobe.

He wrenched open the wardrobe doors, laying bare its insides,

"See, I told you, you're crazy, paranoid." He smirked, closing the doors over again.

"Well, this is cosy." Lucas smirked as Ros grimaced at the couple in the room beyond.

"Priest hole?" she asked, as Lucas nodded as much as was possible in the confined space behind the wardrobe, "How did you know it was there?"

"I didn't." He said, having the decency to flush as he smiled and explained, "I made an educated guess when I saw that the back panel had slipped out of place, one end was raised higher than the other, there was a handle at the top that released it..."

She rolled her eyes at him before being struck by a sudden thought, "Can we open it from the inside?"

"...We'll soon find out..."

A/N: Thanks for reading, hopefully this was believable enough :) review if you can.