Castling by Jack McGlynn Read Free Book Online Page A

give up the location of this safe house. Then all we need do is get there before the target...”
    The Kettle whistled. Wendy was suddenly across the kitchen, hands springing, brewing the speediest cuppa he’d ever seen.
    “And what makes you think L arge Philip will believe you?” she asked, tossing a teaspoon into the sink.
    A blur of jeans and blouse and Wendy was back in her stool, mug cradled in her hands. Its steam warmed her glistening face. Rook suppressed an impressed grin and continued,
    “ You mean besides all the evidence? Well I was hoping I could borrow young Sabrina. Speed things along. She has that whole pheromone thing going on, correct?”
    Deflated, Wendy slouched forward. D epositing her mug on an adjacent counter, she clasped her hands between her legs,
    “She’ll be delighted to know her million euro secretion system is being referred to with such awe and reverence. Yes, you can have Sabs. Productivity will have to take a hit for the afternoon. Right Ron?”
    The shimmering image of her captain’s approval winked out of existence with the same abruptness as it appeared.
    “But to be honest, Rook, I was quite hoping.... you might consider...”
    Inexplicably, Rook felt compelled to put the woman out of her misery. That almost never happened. In an instance of rare charity, he reached out and patted her forearm,
    “Don’t worry Wendy! Y ou’ll get your chance to stretch those legs, rest assured. If anything, I’ll be depending on you and Hinge’s ubiquitous voodoo funk-”
    “You flatter me, sir” Hinge chimed in, words etched in static. Rook continued,
    “ - to keep me alive. And hopefully, in one piece. But until we get to that fun stuff, I really need to find out where this ruddy safe house is.
    Now can one of you downstairs please check the next train to Edinburgh?”
    The kitchen fell into stunned silence. Even Molly and TG looked up from their studies, mouths agape. Rook got the distinct impression he’d missed a beat. A feeling so uncommon it lingered in the memory.
    “Don’t tell me I can charge a taxi to the boss’ card!? Because I’ve been taking the train like a chump, ladies. A chump.”
    TG broad shoulders heaved as she suppressed a snigger, cooing “Ah Bless!” Molly’s hand flew up, slapping a seal around a toothy smile. Wendy reached across for her tea, positively beaming.
    Slurping, she enquired,
    “Why don’t you just take the helicopter?”
    Rook’ s face slumped in a landslide of disbelief. Staggered, he sprayed vanilla across the kitchen floor,
    “We have a chopper?!?!”
    *
    “We have a chopper?!?!”
    Waking up on the floor that morning, mouth dry, temples screeching, Rook hadn’t for a second entertained the notion his afternoon might be spent encased in reinforced glass, skimming the waters of Brittan’s east coast.
    Their transport amounted to little more than a pair of enormous turbines tethered to a half dozen chairs. Gyrating propellers, encased in articulate, plated superstructures, pivoted on twin axes for uncommon manoeuvrability. The turbines flanked a transparent, cylindrical canopy of toughened glass. The spacious cockpit could easily ferry six.
    Or Gil and two others.
    “That one still not sinking in, eh?”
    Molly’s was a voice long a cclimatised to such extravagance. The aircraft’s low hum contrasted the breaking waves beneath.
    “Not yet no. But in my defence...We have a chopper!”
    He was right , though. They did.
    “ Of course we bloody well do, Rookie. How did you think we get around?”
    “ I’ve been taking the shitting tube, Molly!” Rook swore with real venom.
    “Don’t make me laugh, we’ll crash.”
    “ Not the first time someone said that to me today...” He recalled a needlessly elaborate fiction concocted for the taxi driver earlier, explaining away his blood stained attire.
    “Did you keep the tickets?” She asked, punching commands into her GPS.
    “What?”
    “Tickets for the Underground, you donkey! You