White Gold

 

Dan forced himself not to scream as the icy cold water began to pour into the car. He twisted and turned in the driver’s seat to look back at the canister. The timer clicked over. Sixty seconds remaining.

 

He wriggled his legs out from under the steering column and grimaced as the water seeped through his jeans. He began to shiver involuntarily as the icy depths claimed the vehicle. He glanced at the window to his right. Water was halfway up the glass. The heavy sedan was sinking fast into the river. He could see the lights from the wharf through the windscreen.

 

A metallic groan trembled through the vehicle and Dan’s stomach lurched as the car pitched forward into the water and the engine finally died. His heart accelerated. He turned and watched the water lapping at the back seat. It was still too low. The canister was still above water level.

 

Fifty seconds.

 

Dan began to kick at the windscreen. It wouldn’t give. He shouted, pure frustration emanating from him as the water ebbed around his knees. Exhausted, freezing, his muscles screamed with the effort. He shifted his weight in the car seat, lifted his feet and began to kick the windscreen again. He glanced in the rear view mirror. There still wasn’t enough water around the canister.

 

Forty seconds.

 

He hollered, shouting at the glass as he continued to pound at it. He lost his grip and slid down the car seat as his foot went through the glass.

 

Water began to pour over the dashboard, cascading onto his legs and streaming over the front seats. He gasped as a fresh coldness swamped him. He reached out to steady himself as the car lurched forwards and downwards into the murky depths.

 

He took a final deep breath as the car sank below the surface and search lights began to probe the darkness. He turned and stared at the timer on the canister.

 

Thirty seconds.

 

He crawled forwards, out through the windscreen, then turned and held onto the front of the car as it sank further into the dark muddy waters of the Thames. He willed the timer to stop. He could hear his heart beating hard in his ears. His lungs were starting to burst and he breathed out a little to release the pressure, the bubbles escaping to the surface.

 

Twenty seconds.

 

He stared at the timing mechanism, entranced. It had to work, had to. He thought over the last three months – everything he and Sarah had discovered. It all culminated with this, right now.

 

Ten seconds.

 

Dan knew he had to let go of the car and surface, or drown. His lungs were on fire, his heart pounding. He stared at the canister, willing the system to fail.

 

He looked up, and jolted involuntarily. He hadn’t realised the car had sunk so deep. The faded white light of torch beams swung over the surface, seeking him out. He forced himself to focus on the canister, gleaming eerily in the faded light. The red light of the timer blinked.

 

Five seconds.

 

Dan’s whole world closed around it and he watched the time slipping away.

 

Two.

 

One.

 

Dan instinctively closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable sound wave. And waited. Then opened his eyes.

 

The timer remained on zero.

 

He looked around him, momentarily bewildered. He was still there. The bomb hadn’t exploded.

 

He blew the stale air from his lungs in a watery yell and propelled himself to the surface.

 

Delaney had failed.

 

 

 

 

 

Sarah pulled away from David and began to frantically pace the wharf, staring at the river and willing Dan to resurface.

 

Then there was a shout and everyone turned.

 

Dan broke through the surface, a huge grin spread across his face. He raised a fist in triumph, and then began to swim towards the wharf.

 

David strode over to Sarah. ‘Go to the helicopter. There are blankets and a medical kit. Hurry, or he’s going to get hypothermia in this temperature.’

 

Sarah nodded and jogged over to the helicopter. David turned and crouched down at the top of a ladder. Dan had reached the foot of it and was hauling himself out of the water. David reached out as Dan climbed the rungs, and pulled him up towards the wharf.

 

Sarah rushed over with a blanket and threw it around Dan’s shoulders. ‘Are you okay?’

 

He nodded. ‘Bloody freezing,’ he grinned, and realised his teeth were clattering together.

 

‘Get on the helicopter. Let’s get you both out of here,’ said David.

 

As the rotors began to turn and lift the helicopter higher into the air, Dan glanced down at the searchlights sweeping across the water below.

 

Sarah leaned over and kept her voice low. ‘I left Peter’s notes in the car we stole.’

 

He looked at her, smiled and gave her a hug. ‘It’s okay. Those are copies. I left the originals at the house,’ he whispered. ‘And those copies down there had loads of pages missing. Strange, isn’t it?’

 

She punched him. ‘Bastard. When were you going to tell me that?’

 

He shrugged, smiled. ‘You and I need an insurance policy.’ He put his finger to his lips. ‘Don’t tell David.’ He winked.

 

The helicopter soon began to descend and bumped gently onto the roof of a building. Dan looked quizzically at David.

 

‘Ops centre,’ he explained. ‘There’s a clean change of clothes for you at the office. My team need to debrief. And you need to tell me what the hell you were thinking.’

 

Dan nodded, and then sniffed. ‘Warm clothes first,’ he said, and climbed out of the helicopter.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 52

 

 

 

 

Dan walked into the conference room in borrowed jeans, boots, and sweatshirt. The atmosphere was electric. He finished towelling his damp hair from the hot shower and tossed the towel over the back of a chair. He could still feel the adrenaline rushing through his system and he smiled as Philippa handed him a glass of champagne.

 

‘Well done,’ she said. ‘I’m really impressed.’

 

‘Make the most of that,’ David called, ‘she doesn’t hand out compliments every day.’

 

Dan grinned. ‘I could get used to it though.’

 

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