He stood aside. "You're a very misguided young woman," he said. "Violence is not the answer."
"It's one answer," she said, "especially when no one's listening. Get inside." She stepped outside and nodded towards the office.
He glanced towards the corridor.
"You can try that," she said, "but I bet I can run faster than you."
He smiled grimly and she backed him into the office. She yanked the cord on the phone out of the wall and left him leaning against the desk. Outside she pulled shut the door and laid her hand on it. It wasn't coming undone any time soon. Inside, she could hear him talking quietly but urgently. He had a mobile phone, she should have thought of that.
She ran down the corridor and then stopped. Running would only attract attention. She leaned around the junction in the corridor. There were two policemen turning the corner at speed. She shifted her glamour. The black rod became a nightstick, the skirt suit shifted to a black uniform and stabvest. It wasn't a perfect match but in the gloom it would do.
She turned the corner, pointing across the junction. "Down there! Man down! I'm going for help."
They didn't see her, only glanced at the uniform and made the turn at speed, pounding down the adjoining corridor. She wondered how long it would take them to process that she sounded like someone from a TV cop-show. Not long.
She ran back towards the entrance. Everyone was running now, so she wouldn't look out of place. She swerved around the corner, barely missing an officer going the other way who yelled something at her as she passed. Beyond that was the security station and freedom. She straightened herself and pushed through the doors into the well-lit area.
"Quick!" she said. "They need help!"
She expected them to move, but the first of the two armed officers watching the door turned hard eyes on her.
"That's not uniform," he said. The second turned to follow his gaze. The first lifted the muzzle of his weapon. "On the floor! Now!"
From behind him there was a searing flash and the second officer sailed backwards into the cream scanner arch, toppling it sideways onto the bag scanner so that the people manning that scattered under the assault.
The officer pointing the gun at Alex turned to meet the new attack and Eve was there, right behind him.
"Surprise," she said as he turned, reaching up to him in a gesture that looked like she was reaching for a kiss. She held his chin and twisted it sideways with a sharp snap. He dropped like a rag-doll.
"Out! Now!" she shouted at Alex.
Alex stumbled forward, looking at the vacant expression of the policemen on the ground whose head was at an entirely unnatural angle. Eve grabbed her by the collar and dragged her round the body, through the debris into the daylight, accelerating into a run. Alex caught a brief glimpse of the gatehouse where bodies were piled inside like drunks after a long night out.
"Are they dead?" she asked as they ran past.
"It doesn't matter," said Eve, taking the rod from Alex. "Very soon now, none of it will matter. Now run!"
Down the road from the House of Commons entrance, people were running towards them. The crack of a pistol shot echoed from the grand facade of the mother of parliaments. Alex shifted glamour with the rest of the group, splitting up and merging into the scattering crowds, becoming one of the fleeing tourists before heading for the rendezvous.
Once in the safety of the crowds, they might as well have been invisible.
Hours later we were still on the train. I had forgotten what it was like, queuing for tickets, standing around waiting on platforms, and then the interminable journey. The only thing the railway and the Ways had in common was that they didn't necessarily take you where you wanted to go. We'd taken a fast train to Newport in South Wales and were now coming back on ourselves to get to Hereford. After that it would have to be a taxi.
"How are you doing?" Blackbird asked.
"I'm OK."
The presence of so much metal around me wasn't comfortable, but it was bearable. I glanced over to where Gregor was asleep in the corner seat against the window.
"How can he sleep like that?"
She smiled and shrugged. He had talked animatedly about anything and everything for the first part of the journey and then when we boarded the slow train to Hereford, he tucked himself into the corner, closed his eyes and slept. It was like there was a hidden Gregor switch; he blinked and was off.
The carriage in which we travelled had few other passengers, but even so I leaned across the gap between the seats to speak more privately.
"Do you trust him?" I asked Blackbird.
She shrugged again, "Do we have any choice?"
"We should have gone back to the library and looked at the book ourselves. We could have been at the church hours ago."
"I can't read the symbols, Niall. It's some sort of code," she said. "If we get to the church and it's all in code, what are you going to do?"
It was my turn to shrug.
"Quite," she said, glancing sideways. "He's just curious — about everything."
"That's what worries me. We all know what curiosity did. Do you think he's involved with this society, The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn?"
"It's possible," she said. "They were supposed to have had a schism in the mid 20^th century, but it would come as no surprise if fragments of the society were still in existence, or that Gregor would be part of it."
"While he was prattling on, I remembered where I'd seen that name before. There was a book, The Mysteries of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, or something like that. It was sitting on one of the old sofas in the abandoned industrial building when Amber and I went after the escapees. I thought at the time that someone was filling their heads with dangerous rubbish."
"It could be more dangerous than any of us suspected."
"There's something else," I said to her. "In Angela's vision, there was a library, not the British Library, but a much older one. There was a man reading a book and the book had the symbols in it — similar to the ones that Gregor showed us in the book, or very like them.
"Who was the man?" she asked.
"I don't know, maybe it was that guy, Crowley? How would I recognise him?"
"We could probably have found a photo if you'd said something earlier," said Blackbird.
"I didn't want to say anything in front of Gregor or Julian. Who knows what else he's aware of that he's not telling us?"
"That's not what worries me. 'The sun will rise and they shall fall — The Order of the Golden Dawn'? Is that a coincidence?"
"It may be just that, a coincidence," I suggested.
"Even Deefnir thought it was important. There's something big coming, Niall. I can feel it."
"Deefnir thought it was to do with our son," I pointed out. "You don't think he's in danger do you?"
"There have been plenty of opportunities to try something," said Blackbird, "but we've seen nothing of the Seventh Court since you brought Alex out of Porton Down."
"They'll be lurking somewhere, I don't doubt."
"No, if they were here then Raffmir would take the opportunity to taunt you. He couldn't resist it. He'd be appearing at every opportunity, pretending to know more than he really does."
"Then what's it all about?"
"I don't know," she said. "Alex may have triggered something. These people she's with, perhaps they have something to do with it?"
"Aren't you the one who is always telling me how useless prophesies are?"
"That's the frustrating part. If we only knew what we were looking for…"
Gregor stirred, his eyes flicked open. He sat upright. "We are almost there, yes?"
The train began slowing as we tracked around the outskirts of Hereford and then curved around to cross the river into the city.