The Whitehall Syndicate: A time travel conspiracy thriller by Malhar Patel Read Free Book Online Page B

as she hoarsely whispered, “I do.”
    She pointed at the screen, to the penultimate name on the list. ZOE GHOSH. “It's my TSN pseudonym for when I log in through my home terminal. Only two people have access to that machine and since I haven’t been home in almost twenty-four hours…” For a second her voice trailed off. “The main machine is password protected. The only other person who could’ve accessed it is my flatmate Pete.”
     

Chapter 5
     
     
     
    As they made their way through the grimy streets, weary waves of disorientation crashed at the two of them. Their minds were troubled; even causing distraction from the stench of the homeless men as they passed the alcoves by the bridge. Anisha and Jack slowly walked up to Gina's flat, confused and paranoid. If Pete was out to get him, how did Jack know that Gina wasn't too? Or even Anisha? Who could he actually trust anymore?
    He had to be careful: after all his life was on the line. Anisha was quiet, the feeling of betrayal clear in her deep brown eyes. Reaching the familiar red door, they noticed something taped onto it: another envelope. Jack spotted it first and jogged up to grab it. He didn't bother looking around, assumed the culprit was hours away by now.
    Tearing it open, he tipped out the folded paper inside. It was written in the same type as the first note he'd got, and sent the same shiver down his back. “What's it say?” inquired Anisha. Jack read it aloud. “In your hotel room is a briefcase with the necessary information.” Jack paused, deep in thought. Anisha stood by him, reading the fear in his eyes. The sun suddenly began to shine, bathing them in an unpleasantly intense golden yellow.
    Jack began having doubts about retrieving the briefcase immediately. Just the thought of the hotel left him with a sick feeling. Even though he knew that realistically it was no less safe than the flat, it still scared him. It was where this had all began and in some way, his mind now associated it with fear and bad luck.
    Events so far had convinced him that whoever was behind this needed him to assassinate Michael Green so they couldn't kill him. Yet. But that didn't mean they couldn't do some pretty nasty things to him first. Just like that all the possible methods of torture began cycling through his mind, filling his ears with imaginary screams. He gulped, trying to swallow his doubts, and then scratched his stubbly chin. Before he entered the flat he told Anisha he planned to go to the hotel.
    Expecting another overprotective lecture on how dangerous it was, instead she simply nodded and replied, “I know, but be careful”. He looked at her with a crooked half smile then turned away and down the path to the street, his boots crunching beneath the gravel as he went. He forced himself not to turn back.
     
    It was the middle of the afternoon when Jack reached the hotel. He wandered back through the familiar lobby and again rode up the escalator. Getting out he found everything calm, the way he expected it should be. Breezy hotel corridors funnelling echoes and mutterings from their busy guests. For a fleeting moment the urgency was lost. Shaking his head, and with renewed vim, he headed to the hotel room. Trying the door he found it unlocked. This time he expected it and wasn't fazed.
    He knew whoever had broken into his room was probably long gone, and so without hesitation he entered. On the large velvet bed lay a simple leather briefcase, opened and prominently displaying its contents. Jack edged closer to it and saw that inside were floor plans, schematics, sketches and documents. Everything he might need to kill an MP. Hovering over it now he also saw a knife resting behind one of the documents. It had a smooth ivory finish above the coiled metal grip, with a wide, complex blade maybe six inches in length.
    He picked up a small booklet with the words SECURITY DETAIL written on it and flicked through. There were numerous pages of information,