Jake did his best to remain calm, fighting down the feeling of panic that threatened to overwhelm him. He looked at Paul, who appeared stunned at this surprising statement from Gareth, and also very impressed. Jake could tell what Paul was thinking: they’re sending him to their top man at Harley Street! Wow, they must really care about Jake’s health and well-being!
‘I’m very grateful, Gareth,’ said Jake. ‘If you let me have the address, I’ll make my way there.’
Like hell I will, thought Jake. If you think I’m walking into the arms of someone who can strap me down and inject me, you have another thing coming!
‘Make your way there?’ repeated Gareth, his face a picture of incredulousness. ‘Good heavens, Jake, we wouldn’t dream of it! Say something happened to you on the way? You fell under a bus, or under a tube train, or something.’
It was him! thought Jake. He arranged for me to be pushed under that train, and he’s telling me! Warning me! Threatening me!
‘No, no,’ continued Gareth jovially. ‘I’ve arranged a car to take you. Nothing but the best for our Jake!’ He looked past Jake and his smile broadened as he announced, ‘And here he is! Your driver!’
Jake turned, and his heart sank. A tall, tough-looking man stood there, dressed in a neat dark suit that barely contained his muscle-bound physique.
‘Adam,’ said Gareth, gesturing at Jake, ‘this is Jake Wells. You’re to take him to Harley Street. Dr Endicote’s expecting him.’
‘Right, sir,’ said Adam. To Jake he said, ‘The car’s ready in the car park.’
‘Right.’ Jake nodded. He picked up his case, then he turned to Gareth. ‘You’re taking a lot of care about me, Gareth,’ he said. ‘I’m sure I’m not really worth it.’
‘Nonsense!’ Gareth beamed.
Jake forced another smile and followed the bulky figure of Adam out of the office and along the corridor that led to the lift to the underground car park.
Once I get in that car I’m a dead man, thought Jake.
They turned a bend in the corridor, and then another, and suddenly the lift doors were in front of them.
Act now! Jake told himself, panic rising in him.
‘Hang on!’ he exclaimed.
Adam turned to him, puzzled.
‘I forgot something!’ said Jake apologetically. ‘It’s in my desk. I’ll be back in a second!’
Adam hesitated, then nodded. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait here for you.’
‘Good idea.’ Jake smiled. ‘I always get lost going to the car park.’
Jake turned and walked away. Once he was round the bend in the corridor and out of Adam’s sight, he broke into a frantic run. Get out of the building! his senses told him. Run!
He hurtled along the corridor, and past the open door of his office. Even if Gareth spotted him, Jake felt he was moving too fast for Gareth to do anything about it. What would Gareth be able to do, anyway? Shout ‘Stop that man!’ That was hardly Gareth’s style. It would rouse all manner of suspicions in the rest of the staff.
There were no shouts as Jake rushed past his office, nor as he ran at full speed down the stairs, barely keeping his balance. He hit the marble floor of the main reception area, and then ran out through the revolving doors into the street.
I have to phone Lauren and warn her! he thought. But not just yet. Wait till I’m far enough away that I can stop moving. He’d slowed down to a walk now, so he didn’t attract attention. He walked past the local sandwich bar, past the printer’s and stationer’s, and reached the roundabout at the end of Marsham Street. The pedestrian crossing that led over the main road, and was his route to the back streets and safety, was about a hundred metres away. He was just heading towards it, when a man stepped into his path.
‘Excuse me,’ said the man politely but unsmilingly. He didn’t move.
‘Pardon?’ asked Jake, startled.
Suddenly, he was aware of someone just behind him, and then he felt something hard push into the small of his back.
‘This is a gun. Don’t make me use it,’ murmured a voice.
Chapter 16
A gun!
Numbly, Jake looked at the man who’d stepped in front of him. He was small but wiry. Unsmiling face, cold eyes, hair cut so short his scalp was almost shaved. He had a thin scar that ran right down the left side of his face, from his eyebrow to the corner of his mouth. A knife or a sword, thought Jake. Or a bayonet. He was wearing a casual jacket over a black T-shirt; and jeans and trainers. He looked like one of the SAS soldiers Jake had seen in documentaries, small and incredibly fit, like human pit bull terriers.