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The Deadly Game(30)

By:Jim Eldridge


‘Very serious,’ said Jake. ‘I’m not joking.’

Andy hesitated, then said, ‘You sure you can’t wait till the morning?’

Robert looked at Andy, shocked.

‘You’re not seriously thinking of driving back to London with Jake tonight?’ he asked, incredulous.

Andy shrugged.

‘Well, you and Michelle can’t do it. And if Jake thinks there’s a real threat . . .’

‘I do,’ said Jake firmly. Then he softened. ‘No, Andy, it’s not fair. After all, you don’t know me, except through Robert . . . and I know it’s asking a bit much for you to drive me all the way back in the middle of the night.’

‘But this book is important, right?’ asked Andy. ‘Getting it safe?’

‘Yes.’ Jake nodded.

‘OK,’ said Andy. ‘Give me time to stuff my things back in my bag and get Woody sorted out, and we’ll go.’

Jake felt a wave of relief wash over him. What a great bloke! But then, he supposed that was the kind of unselfish person you found in search and rescue, someone who thought nothing of putting themselves at risk for others. A pity there aren’t more Andys in this world, thought Jake.

‘Thanks, Andy,’ he said. ‘I promise, some day, I’ll pay you back for doing this. I don’t know how, but I will.’





Chapter 17




Late at night, there was hardly any traffic on the road as they headed east, so they made good time. Jake sat in the passenger seat, feeling the book still taped to his stomach, and relieved to be away from Glastonbury. He had no doubt that whoever was after the book would have struck again that night, and not just ransacking a room.

Behind Jake, Woody lay in the footwell of the back seat. It also gave Jake comfort, that, if they were suddenly overtaken and their car stopped, they had the dog with them to defend them. Jake had already seen the dog prepared to launch an attack when that shotgun had been pointed at them.

As they drove, Andy talked about his search and rescue work, and then he asked about the book they’d found, and what it was all about.

‘Robert didn’t tell me a lot about it,’ he said.

So Jake told him about the Order of Malichea, and monks hiding the library, and all the different people who were trying to get their hands on the books. It helped pass the time on the long drive, and Jake felt he owed it to Andy, especially as he was putting himself out this way.

‘So that’s why you wanted to head back to London,’ said Andy. ‘To get the book back there to safety.’

‘Right,’ agreed Jake. ‘The way they’d searched our rooms for it meant to me they’d try again.’

‘Makes sense,’ said Andy.

Ahead of them, they saw the sign for a twenty-four-hour service station.

‘Excellent,’ said Andy. ‘We could do with some petrol. And I don’t know about you, but a coffee would help keep me awake on the rest of the journey.’

‘Sounds a great idea,’ said Jake.

Andy signalled, and pulled into the service station. Ahead of them, the cafeteria was lit up, but there were few cars parked. Jake wasn’t surprised; at this time of night he didn’t expect there to be much traffic. Andy ignored the service station and turned into the lorry park, where rows and rows of lorries were parked up for the night.

‘You missed it,’ said Jake.

‘Missed what?’ asked Andy.

‘The car park. This is the lorry park.’

‘I know,’ said Andy. ‘But this is quieter. Fewer people around.’

Jake frowned.

‘You think someone might steal your car?’ he asked.

‘No,’ said Andy. ‘But I need you to hand the book over, and if you resist, it might get noisy.’

Jake stared at Andy, bewildered. Andy still seemed the same easy-going guy he’d been all weekend, but there was a harder look to his expression that hadn’t been there before. Cold.

‘What do you mean? I don’t understand,’ said Jake, still trying to come to terms with what Andy was saying.

‘I mean you’re going to hand the book over to me.’

‘Why?’

‘Because someone is paying me thirty thousand pounds to get hold of it.’

‘Thirty thousand?’

Andy nodded.

‘Someone has obviously been listening in to yours and Robert’s conversations, because I got this phone call from someone who knew that Robert had asked me to go to Glastonbury with you. They told me you were looking for some sort of book. Well, I knew that, because Robert had already told me. Then they told me they’d pay me thirty thousand if I could get hold of it.

‘They paid me ten thousand in cash up front as a sign of good faith, and told me I could keep it, whatever happened. But, if I could get hold of the book, there was another twenty thousand in it for me.’