Sorry for the delay! We're reaching the end of the story… and ending I haven't written yet :s I know what happens at the end, I just need to actually write it. In the meantime, please enjoy this.
Alex tucked her long blonde hair behind her ear and glanced nervously at a bag on the floor. The bag was huge, designed to hold all the items a busy mother could need, but was expensive. Could there be a biological weapon in it?
Alex was sitting on her own in the cold, bright waiting room of Fenchurch General Hospital with a blonde wig acting as a disguise. Shaz had turned up for work that morning with a defiant look in her eyes, but said nothing. She and Alex had seemed to come to some unspoken understanding to agree to disagree. Shaz had taken over Ray's old job of manning the communications in a small van just outside.
Gene, Ray and Chris were in the same van, listening intently to the speaker that was transmitting sound picked up from the wire under Alex's dress, ready to storm the hospital if she needed them. Alex was trying not to think about what the atmosphere must have been like in the van, given what Shaz had said about Gene the other day.
Suddenly, Alex stood up. Smiling as broadly as she could, she approached the bored looking receptionist.
"Excuse me-"
"The doctor's running fifteen minutes late," said the receptionist, not looking up from her nails, which she was filing. "You appointment's wasn't until two anyway, Mrs. Er-"
"Cameron," said Alex brightly, though she felt like snatching the nail file away from the receptionist and poking her in the eye with it. "And that wasn't what I was going to ask, I was wondering where the bathroom was?"
"Oh," said the receptionist, and looked at Alex for the first time, for slightly longer than was polite. Alex wondered nervously if her hair was obviously a wig, but the receptionist didn't say anything.
"Go through those doors and turn left. It's through the second set of doors on your right."
Alex smiled her thanks and followed the directions. Sure enough, she found herself in the Ladies, as brightly lit as the waiting room. She quickly turned her face away from the mirrors to avoid seeing a yellow face covered in, what now appeared to be, ghastly clown make-up. Stupid bathroom lighting.
After checking the stalls (they were all empty), Alex said softly, hoping it would be picked up by the wire, "Don't worry, you aren't going to listen to me piss. I'm just exploring. I'll let you know what I find."
She waited a few moments before quickly turning the water on at the sinks as another woman came in. They briefly smiled at each other before she went into a stall and Alex dried her hands and left.
As Alex walked down the corridor and through doors, she kept her eyes open for anything that might look as though it could contain a bomb. Bins, laundry baskets, anything, but there was nothing. The corridors were deserted of everyone except people.
But what was this? A narrow, unmarked door in the wall that seemed to lead to a janitor's closet. Alex tried the door, but it was locked. There was something strange about it, but she couldn't work out what it was. What had caught her eye?
She paced up and down in front of it, frowning slightly before approaching it again and running her finger down the gap in between the wall and the door, where the hinges were. Each time she passed this gap, a flash of light would catch her eye. As she peered, Alex could see a shiny silver material had been plastered over the crack. Foil.
Alex quickly whispered what she had found, but just as she was giving the location of the door, a harsh Manchester voice echoed its way down the corridor towards her.
"Mrs. Cameron?"
Alex whipped her head round quickly as a shock of fear grasped her.
It was Langley, in a white doctor's coat and a stethoscope draped around his neck. Through the chest of the coat, she could see the unmistakable bulge of a gun. He didn't take it out, but Alex knew he didn't need to. If she move inappropriately, if she made any sound, he would whip out the gun and shoot her before she had time to even think about reaching for hers.
Langley smiled in a way that would be considered kind on the face of anyone that wasn't a terrorist as he walked slowly towards Alex. His thin, cold fingers gripped the hem of her blouse and he lifted it up in one swift movement to reveal the wire she wore underneath.
The smile on his lips curled upwards on one side as he let the blouse fall. Alex suddenly understood the fake Manchester accent and his acceptance of her alias. He knew she was wearing a wire and that everything she heard was being listened to by someone else. He didn't want to be recognised, not yet. He had a game to play and Alex, if she wanted to stay alive, would have to play along.