The man and the woman stared at one another, then bolted past Ben and scrambled out of the cell. He watched as they went running off down the dark passage.
‘I’m Ben,’ he said to the children. ‘I’m here to get you out. Carl as well.’
The Japanese girl nodded sagely, as if she’d known that too. A younger girl managed a weak smile. A boy a few years younger than Carl began to sob.
‘What’s your name?’ Ben asked the Japanese girl.
‘Satoko,’ she replied. She pointed at the younger girl, who was still smiling at Ben. ‘That’s Nicole. She doesn’t speak English. That’s Sylvie. That’s Luca. That’s Peter. And that’s Franck,’ he finished, pointing at the sleeping boy on the bunk.
Ben gazed at their faces, and his heart went out to them. How had they ended up here? How had Linden Global’s agent network found them? Each child’s story would have to be told, but not today.
‘Listen, Satoko,’ he said, ‘we have to get out of here quickly. Bad men might try to stop us. Things might happen. You’re the oldest, so I need you to be really brave, and I need your help to look after the younger children. Can you do that?’
She nodded again, then shot an anxious glance at Franck. ‘He won’t wake up. They gave him the medicine.’
‘Does it wear off soon?’ Ben asked.
‘An hour, sometimes less,’ she said. ‘But it gives you a headache.’
‘You’ll never have to take it again,’ Ben promised her. ‘None of you.’ He went over to the bunk and picked up the drugged boy, thinking that maybe he should have shot those doctors after all.
The boy murmured in his sleep as Ben slung him carefully over his shoulder. ‘Come on,’ he said to the group. ‘We’re leaving this place.’
Back in the main part of the building, alarms were shrilling and the sprinkler system had activated. But from the spread of smoke, the stifling heat and the strong stench of burning that filled the air, it was clear that the fire was raging out of control and Ben worried that the sprinklers would be overwhelmed. As he carried Franck and led the rest of the children through the waterlogged corridors, the walls shook violently to an explosion, then another. The place was full of chemicals and surgical supplies, gas and oxygen tanks and God knew what other volatile materials. How long before the whole place went up in flames?
‘It’s all right, children,’ he said. ‘Stay close to me.’
Every step of the way, he expected to meet more guards and was ready to shoot first lest a stray bullet come anywhere near the kids. But they saw nobody. Ben glanced left, glanced right, memorising the layout of the building as best he could for when he’d have to come back for Carl.
And there it was, the blessed sight he’d been praying for: an exit. Ben kicked open the doors and a rush of fresh air cooled the sweat on his brow. Dusk was falling, the first stars beginning to twinkle over the dark forest. The compound was deserted. All that stood between them and the trees was the perimeter fence. ‘Come on,’ he urged the children.
They ran from the main building, reached the next and skirted along the wall. From its corner, it was only a short dash across the concrete to the fence. Ben’s heart was thudding ferociously. Almost there.
Eighty yards along the length of the wire fence, they came to a padlocked gate. ‘Stand behind me,’ he told the children. Holding the carbine one-handed and well away from Franck’s little ears, he aimed at the lock and fired. The deafening shot echoed off the buildings. One round from a high-velocity 5.56mm rifle was enough to mangle the padlock. Ben tossed the twisted metal away, unbolted the gate and it swung open. He glanced back, half-expecting to see the place’s remaining guards come swarming out in pursuit, drawn by the noise of the gunshot. All he saw was the smoke pouring from the windows of the main building, rising up in a column into the darkening sky.
They ran for the trees. In the deep shadow of the pines, Ben gently took Franck down from his shoulder and laid him on the ground. He gathered the rest of the children together in a small circle. ‘Satoko, all of you, listen to me carefully. This is nearly over. But I have to go back for Carl.’ He took off his watch and gave it to Satoko, showing her the luminous dial. ‘Satoko, remember what I said. You’re in charge. If I’m not back here in fifteen minutes, I want you to take the children somewhere safe. You’ll have to carry Franck. Can you manage that?’
Satoko nodded.
‘Good. There’ll be a farm, or a house, somewhere not too far away. Get there and call the police, all right? ’ He stood. ‘I’m going now. Fifteen minutes.’
‘Be careful, Ben,’ Satoko said.
24
Ben ran back towards the fence, clutching his carbine. Time was ticking by much, much too fast. He could only hope that the fire hadn’t yet reached the top floor.
Through the gate in the fence; across the open ground towards the main building. Two guards came out of a doorway to his left, saw him and froze. Ben didn’t even hesitate. He levelled the M4 and shot them both before they’d had a chance to go for their weapons.
He sprinted for the main building, retracing his steps. Inside, the smoke was thicker and even more acrid than before. The floor was swirling inch deep in filthy black water, but just as he’d feared, the sprinkler system had been ineffective at stopping the spread of the blaze. Almost every way he tried, fire and smoke blocked his way and forced him to hunt for an alternative route. The power hadn’t shut down yet, but it could at any moment and he didn’t dare risk using the lift to the upper floor, for fear of being trapped inside.
Every moment counted. Each second, the fire was blocking another path. He held onto the rifle, even though he didn’t think he’d need it any more. The remaining guards had all fled the building, as well as the rest of the staff. It was just him and Carl in here now.
As he searched desperately through the smoke for a staircase, he stumbled into a medical theatre. The operating table was on fire. Soon, any gruesome traces of the things that had gone on here would be burnt out of existence. He ran on, battling against the smoke. The heat was scorching. Just as it seemed hopeless, he crashed though another door and his heart jumped at the sight of a stairway leading upwards. He bounded up it, two and three steps at a time.
It was as he reached the top floor that the power system finally melted down, plunging him into darkness. He groped his way along, kicking doors open. One, two, three …‘Carl!’ he yelled. ‘Carl!’
The fourth door was locked, and he instantly knew this was it. He took two steps back and then ran at it with all his might, smashing it open with his shoulder.
The isolation room was barely less like a cell than the cage down below. In the gloom Ben could make out a sink unit, a toilet, a chair pulled up to a bare table. And the iron-framed bed on which Carl was lying completely still.
Ben threw back the thin sheet. He shook the boy by the arm. ‘Carl, can you hear me? Wake up. We have to go.’
Carl stirred. He faintly murmured something, then fell back into his drug-induced unconsciousness. At that moment, Ben hated the men who’d done this to him more than ever. He ripped a strip from the bed sheet, dampened it at the sink and then returned to the bed to prop the limp boy against him and wrap the wet cloth loosely over his nose and mouth to help reduce smoke inhalation. He quickly did the same for himself, tying the torn material behind his neck like a bandana. Then lifted the child from the bed and carried him to the door.
The flames hadn’t yet reached the stairs, but they very soon would. It wouldn’t be long now before the building would either blow up completely or start to collapse in on itself. Ben reached the bottom. The route he’d taken before was blocked by fire, so he took another. The boy was a dead weight in his arms, the carbine slapping against his back as he staggered and stumbled through the building with only the flickering fiery glow to light the way.