Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story, it means a lot. I also want to thank my Guest reviewer, Lunadenata, for their kind words (I agree with what you said about social activism). But I must clarify, the opinions expressed in the story are the opinions I think the characters would have and they, in no way, shape, or form reflect my own opinions. Apologies if I've misunderstood, but an avid liberal - lefty like me would never deny anyone the right to protest.
Chapter Fourteen: Judas Kiss
The only one of the three of them to find a moment's rest in the squat was Starsky the rabbit. He slept while sprawled out on Leon's chest, have relished the gentle rhythmic ear stroking the teen had been giving him. The late evening news played softly in the background, the television providing the only light as the ones overhead had packed in. Lucas glanced from the screen, to Leon. He looked perturbed still; troubling his lower lip with his teeth as he gazed vacantly at the television screen. Even when reports of their faked explosion came up at the head of the bulletin, he barely flickered. All the time, he cradled the rabbit and smoothed down the ears.
Hours earlier, Lucas had fallen on their takeaway pizzas like a ravenous Bear; Leon had merely picked at a bit of the crust before trying to feed the rest to Starsky. Extracting conversation from the teenager had been akin to drawing blood from a stone. Initially, he put it down to exhaustion and was about to send him up to what passed for a bed in their hovel, when the teen finally spoke.
"Did I get something wrong today?" he asked, brow furrowing.
He had been in with Emma that morning and wheedled a confession from her effortlessly, before setting her up for another great fall, due the next day. They even got the name of the assassin. Lucas cast his mind back over those events, running through it all once more and laughed.
"It honestly couldn't have gone any better."
Despite that reassurance, Leon still looked deeply troubled. "Then why do we still have to have this other meeting tomorrow? Emma admitted everything to me."
Lucas drew a deep breath. "She did, and that was great. But we need to get her caught in the act of arms dealing if we're to take out this whole organisation. All we have at the moment is an audio recording of her talking about the possibility of an arms deal, which in itself is not an act of terrorism."
He could see how it looked to an outsider, especially one that had gone undercover for the first nerve wracking time. But talk was cheap and perfectly legal. However, Lucas stole a glance at the rabbit hutch that had been placed on a reinforced shelf in the living room. It was afforded a view across the whole space, with tiny fibre-optic cameras threaded into the dark uppermost corners, with another concealed inside a toy mirror. A listening device had even been attached to the underside of the food bowl, with another for back up in the door of the hutch. The whole ensemble together would be controlled remotely by Malcolm and one of his techie underlings back at Thames House, with further support from a nearby observation van in which Ros, Jo and Ben would also be resident. To Lucas' immediate relief, however, Leon looked happier now that his understanding of how it would all come together had improved.
"Get some sleep," Lucas urged him. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
Ruth watched Harry's entrance onto the Grid that morning through narrowed eyes, but he didn't seem to notice her. He hung up his coat, went straight into the kitchenette and put the kettle on to boil. Her squinting eyes followed him until he was out of sight, but she could still hear him: the tap running, the kettle humming as it got to work, cupboard doors opening and, all the while, the jaunty whistling. Slowly, cautiously, she got up and followed him like a hunter tracking a boar. When she reached the kitchenette, she paused in the doorway and watched him for a moment.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked, tentatively.
He stopped, halfway through lifting two cups from the side and returned her look with a bright smile on his face. "Nothing!" he replied, then brandished the cups at her. "Tea?"
"Lovely. But why are you so bloody cheerful, it's not even half nine yet?"
He looked thoughtful as he waited for the kettle to boil. "I was thinking about the Op," he said. "Then it occurred to me, this morning, just how much I love it when other people's children turn out to be even worse than mine."
Ruth choked on her own laughter and had to use the time Harry spent making the tea composing herself.
"I mean it," Harry continued. "At least my Graham's only ever endangered himself. He's never seen fit to drag anyone down with him. And Catherine? At least she has the brains to give the fraudulent fanatics a wide berth."
With no children of her own, Ruth could only look on from the side lines as the inter-parental face-off slowly took shape.
"Seriously, though, what will happen with Leon once this is over?" she asked. "His father seems determined to have him whipped through the streets and boiled in oil."
"That depends on him," replied Harry. "Let's see how today goes and we can deal with it later."
Emma looked round the front room of the squat with a look of ill-concealed distaste on her face. A cup of lukewarm tea grew cold in front of her, while Leon sat at the opposite end of the dining room table and watched in contemplative silence. They had opened the back windows, kicking in the boardings to do so, bringing in some much needed natural light to the house. But it didn't do much to hide the damp and decay. Emma took it all in silently, nose wrinkled.
For the moment, it was just the two of them. Lucas had left the building on the premise of checking up on some contacts, when in actual fact he was checking the surveillance team and Emma's partners in crime had thus far proved a no-show. However, they were still expected and periodically, Emma checked her phone and fired off messages requesting progress reports. Leon watched her closely, trying to gage how she had warmed to Lucas. So far, he assumed she viewed him as nothing more than a means to an end.
Emma locked the screen on her phone and set it on the table beside her cup. "You can't live here, Leon."
He responded with a shrug. "I've got no choice until I get sorted with a place-"
"Then come with me!" she insisted, once more. "I don't know why you're even thinking twice about it. This place is a health hazard."
Leon sighed, slumping back in his seat. "I can go it alone in a few weeks," he said. "Anyway come and meet the rabbit."
Emma raised a reluctant smile as she rounded the table towards the place where the hutch had been positioned and looked through the bars. "Oh, he's adorable!" she sighed. "Is this the one Liam and his friends rescued from the lab?"
"Uh-huh," Leon nodded, opening the hutch. "Hold him if you want. We keep his house up here so he can see out and not get lonely." He paused there, glancing towards the toy mirror with the camera concealed inside. "He's got that little mirror to make him think there's another rabbit in with him. But he needs human contact, too."
"That's really thoughtful of Liam, actually," Emma agreed, taking a long look inside. She lifted the rabbit out, careful to support him and she brought him up to face level. She grinned as they bumped noses. "Such a darling thing."
Careful not to attract too much attention to the place where the cameras were hidden, Leon breathed a silent sigh of relief when Lucas returned and Emma handed the rabbit back. Once he was secure again, all three sat around the table, ready to begin negotiations. However, they were interrupted by Emma's phone and she ended up excusing herself. While she was absent, Lucas and Leon had the opportunity to talk.
"She's gone to get Maitland, I know it," Leon said.
"Are there any more coming?" he asked. "We need as many as possible."
Lucas brought out a box and positioned it in the middle of the table. It was plain cardboard, taped closed but had recently had a Stanley knife taken to it so it fell open in neat slits. Leon gazed at it, venturing a guess as to what was in there.
"Stay calm," said Lucas, just as Emma returned.
She was not alone. With her came a large man in an Army Surplus jacket. Leon recognised him, but had never met him. Emma made the introductions while Lucas seated them facing the hutch, but both were now regarding the box, its contents still hidden.
"Is it just the two of you?" asked Lucas, looking from one to the other.
Emma responded as though she were pitching a new business. "As you can imagine, at this early stage in the group's development, we're small in number. But, Leon tells us you can help us there?"
Leon had said a lot of things.
Ros drew level with the flat, parking opposite and shutting off the engine. It was broad daylight in a residential street, but most of the occupants would be out at work. Or so she hoped. Opening the glove compartment, she withdrew a lock-pick and her mobile phone. A false pest control company ID card was also inside, and she inspected it closely before sliding it into her breast pocket. It was something to show any nosey neighbours who came calling, at the least. Once done, she glanced in the review mirror and pretended to fix her earrings in place as she nudged the listening device deeper inside.
"Lima team," she said, to no one in particular.
"We hear you, Alpha One," replied Malcolm, still in the observation van outside the squat. "They're all in there now. So off you go."
"Get them to find out where she keeps the gun if you can," she instructed them, before leaving the car.
Working information like that into a normal conversation took time. So instead of waiting around on the off chance that Emma let it slip, Ros let herself into the flat and began a search of her own. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Coats and jackets slung lazily over wall pegs in the hall; that morning's coffee cup left upturned on the draining board in the kitchen and a cat sleeping deeply beside the still warm stove. Her gloved hand nudged open the living room door, to find the television switched off and a fine selection of newspaper cuttings spread out on the dining table.
Ros didn't move any of the cuttings, but she took the time to glance over them. There were several articles from several different papers – from the Sun to the Guardian and all in between. Each article relating to the assassination of the Government Minister, Sinead Kelly. She let one leather tipped finger touch an article bearing a photograph of Sinead and David Shelley together and shivered involuntarily. Trophies, just like any other killer.
Lucas pulled back the flaps on the cardboard box and lifted out the cellophane wrapped semtex. Although peculiarly warm to the touch, he knew it was utterly harmless without the detonators connected and the worried looks on the faces of the others made him grin.
"It's okay," he assured them, before explaining the detonator situation.
Emma let out a nervous laugh. "I'm sure we'll get the hang of it, Liam."
"You already have guns, don't you?" Lucas asked. "Because I have contacts inside the military who can always get more."
Theo Maitland looked interested. So far, he had said nothing besides confirming it was he who shot the Minister. Lucas had let them brag for a few minutes before moving on to the business end of the meeting, it all stacked against them.
"If you can get more, we'll find a use for them," replied Emma. "I have a small handgun myself. It's nothing special but it suits my needs well enough for the time being."
"But we need to arm people properly," said Leon. "You're not going to incite a coup with a handgun."
Lucas glanced sharply across the table, towards Leon who then fell silent as though he'd been smacked down in class.
"He has a point," Lucas ceded. "You'll need more, eventually. But for now, this will do."
He drew their attention back to the explosives. Emma gazed at it almost wistfully.
"How many bombs would that make?"
"There's 100 lbs in total, and the Omagh bomb a few years ago was half the size," Lucas explained. "For your purposes, you don't want anything like as big-"
"Hell no!" Emma retorted. "I don't want a blood bath, Mr Nicholls. All I want is to hit strategic targets and make people sit up and take notice."
"Do you have anywhere safe to store it?" asked Lucas, fixing her with a look of curiosity.
Emma thought about it for a moment. "For now, it go the same place as the guns."
"Which is?"
"Under the floorboards of cupboard under my stairs. You did say it would be safe anywhere without the detonators, didn't you?"
Lucas smiled. "Oh yes, it'll be fine."
"Cupboard under the stairs."
Malcolm's voice echoed in Ros' ear, and she wasted no time in making for the hallway again. It was cold and draughty out there, her footsteps loud against the lino. Although the place was empty and the soul inhabitant under close observation at the other end of town, it was still enough to make her uncomfortable.
"Look for loose floorboards," Malcolm added.
Ros made no reply. She wouldn't speak unless she had to, despite the mic being carefully concealed in the collar of her blouse. Using a penknife brought with her from the Grid, she found the floorboards in question easily. Emma hadn't bothered to replace them properly the last time she used them. Putting them to one side, Ros used the light of her mobile as a makeshift torch. But it was deeper than she thought, and ended up groping around up to her elbow. The murder weapon was wrapped in an old dishcloth, a small package of ammunition in newspaper beside it. There was cash bundled up beside it, as well as other plans.
She turned the plans over in her hand, narrowing her eyes as she read over them. "Lima Team, she's been making plans to abduct the boy for a ransom."
Leon got up and closed the back windows again. CO19 were closing in silently on the building, creeping around the back via the alley that led round the rear of the building. The last thing he wanted was the Op being blown now. They had damaged the council's boards when opening the damn things, so Leon had to make do with making sure the heavy, mildewed curtains were closed properly. Mercifully, they were black outs.
"Emma," he said, taking his seat again. "Do it. It could really help us."
She smiled at him, revealing a row of neat white teeth. "I have more than one way of raising awareness," she said, but then hesitated as she looked to Lucas. "But he's right. I'll take it."
"How much do you want as a down payment?" the man, Theo Maitland, asked.
Lucas sat back in his seat and pretended to consider it. He couldn't close the deal until CO19 were in place. "How much do you have with you?"
"One K," Emma replied, reaching for her handbag.
"I can skim my Dad's cards and easily get another couple of thousand," Leon suggested.
Lucas noticed the teen flush slightly at his own lies, but no one else did. Finally, after what seemed an age, Malcolm's voice sounded in his ear, signalling the go ahead. "Ros has the murder weapon, bring them in now."
"Done!" Lucas replied, happily.
Money and explosives changed hands, the deal was done. Starsky the rabbit nibbled on as his secret cameras filmed and recorded everything. They got to their feet and Leon and Lucas escorted them to the door. In the hallway, they paused and chatted happily about the weather and the state of the bloody roads.
Before they left, Leon drew Emma aside and smiled as he stretched upwards and kissed her on both cheeks. She looked at him, the smile on her own face freezing, her eyes narrowing.
"That was very formal," she said, forcing an air of lightness into her tone.
Leon didn't reply, but he still smiled. He no longer flinched back, but stood his ground. Still beaten, still bruised, but supreme in his own confidence now. She knew, and he knew that she now also knew.
"Lee?"
Neither of the other two were looking at them. It had been an impromptu act on Leon's behalf. The last act of intimacy; the last betrayal. He had no regrets anymore.
"Goodbye, Emma," he said, swinging open the door.
She was still looking at him as she stepped outside, and into the arms of waiting undercover police officers and CO19 men. The look on her face hardened into something beyond words, beyond contempt, her silent mouth formed the word 'Judas'. Maybe she remembered the story, and fit the pieces together. But what lay at the front of that squat was hardly the Garden of Gethsemane and she was certainly no Jesus.
Lucas stepped around Leon and closed the door firmly. It was done.
Thank you again to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I really am going to try and get the Epilogue up by tomorrow. But early on Monday I'm flying out to India for three weeks. If the epilogue doesn't happen, I really am sorry. But it'll be uploaded the same day I return from holiday.