The rental of the car from the Avis at Brown Hart Gardens was uneventful. Adam calmly chartered a Ford station wagon while Kate and the kids waited outside. Trudy begged her mother to explain what was going on. Even little Billy was concerned enough to pull his face out of his portable electronic toy.
“What about Poppa? When are we going to see Poppa?” the little boy implored Kate with his big, innocent brown eyes. “What if he thinks we’re still at the hotel and he comes there to see me? We were going to feed the ducks in the park. Won’t he be sad? Poppa and I are special friends. That’s what we said.”
“No, sweetie. Poppa will be fine.” Even talking about her father brought about a stabbing emotional pain. She didn’t want him in her head. She was too mad, too sore, too angry. Her father had conspired against her, put her whole family in danger. It was a blend of burn that she couldn’t deal with, a hurt she felt for her young son who thought he had finally connected with his long-lost mythical “Poppa.” He had no sense of what a colossal shit the old man really was.
Kate spoke to them both in clustered wisps of careful words, doing everything she could not to burst into tears.
“Your father’s had a very rough day with his business, kids. He badly needs our support. We’re going to take a ride and help him calm down. I want you both to do whatever you can to just let Daddy relax. Please? Right now is not a good time to argue with him about anything.”
Both of the children reluctantly agreed to be on their best behavior, both taking Kate at her word that very soon she would give them an explanation for everything that was happening.
* * *
IT WAS QUIET in the car as it snaked down below Hyde Park and out onto Cromwell Road, following the A4 until it became the M4. Adam stared ahead, resolutely moving forward, driving without saying a word, only occasionally speaking to honk or swear at a cabbie or a truck driver who had cut him off. Trudy repeatedly asked her parents where they were going. Neither of them would answer. Every now and then Kate would start to weep and then catch herself. Billy kept asking what was wrong, only to be told again and again with a softly whispered tone and a motherly pat that all was fine. The little boy was on the verge of tears himself now; at one point in the backseat he mouthed the word “divorce” to Trudy, who nodded affirmatively. That could be the only answer.
Sometime later, as the Ford wagon wound its way along the bottom lip of Gunnersbury Park, a little more than halfway to Heathrow, Kate’s cell phone rang. It was Gordon. She picked it up, part instinctively, part purposely, wanting to lash out. Once she did answer, however, in that very second, she realized how few words there were to say, not only how little she could discuss in front of the children but also how utterly and completely he had devastated her. She spoke quietly, in measured tones.
“What is it that you could possibly want?”
“I need to speak with you, love.”
“I have nothing to say to you. You disgust me.” Adam looked over and caught her eye. He took her arm and motioned for her to cover the microphone. She did.
“Do not tell him where we are going. Do not say a word. He’s going to ask. Tell him nothing.” She nodded, silently agreeing. She listened as her father prattled on about his innocence.
“I had no idea what was happening. Please know that, Kate. I thought this was a simple white-collar crime that would have no bearing on anything other than Adam making a lot of money for taking a stupid risk. I was told they would cover all the downside. I was told nothing of a bombing until it was too late—nothing whatsoever. I promise that to be the truth.”
Kate wasn’t letting him off the hook, not even a little. She kept her voice down to a whisper, yet her words were couched in a sharp, decisive cadence. She wanted him to know there was nothing he could say to convince her of anything other than that they would never speak again.
“I don’t believe you. How’s that? And if I did, I’d be agreeing to the fact that I now understand that you’re stupid and foolish beyond belief—a malleable old buffoon who has put everything I love and care about into serious jeopardy.”
“Listen to me, Kate. It’s much more complicated than you know, than I could ever have known. This is deep water here. We need to keep close now. I need to help you. Your man, even you and the children, could be in a serious predicament.”
“You think? Really, Daddy?” she snapped at him. She had not the slightest hesitation in cutting him off at the knees at every turn the conversation would take. If the kids weren’t in the car, the sword would really have been unsheathed. She was boiling over: she so wanted to let him have it for years and years of being a petulant, cowering, simpering, and whimpering fool. She desperately wanted to take out her rage and anger over this whole horrible debacle on him, but she held back with the kids behind her. Instead she sat low in her seat and covered her mouth as she whispered another dark blast of invective.
“Who do you think put us in this predicament? Who can be blamed for all of this? What were you thinking? What could possibly be in your mind? How much were you paid for this? Does he own you that much, this man, so much so that you’d do something this cold and callous to your own family?”
There was silence on the other end. She could hear Gordon struggling. She could hear his mind trying to form the right combination of words to make her understand whatever flimsy version of an excuse it was that he wanted to convey. Finally he just leaked out a short, lifeless query.
“Where are you right now? Where are you going?”
“That’s none of your business.”
She looked over at Adam. His eyes burning into the windshield, trained on the open road—on an unknown, perilous future. She turned to her kids in the backseat. Billy was watching her, Trudy, now oblivious, was tooling on her iPhone, playing a game or something, she figured. She returned her gaze up front, whispering quietly to Gordon.
“I don’t want to ever speak to you again, as long as you live. Don’t ever call me.”
She hung up the phone, staring ahead to that same rocky version of a murky road that Adam was heading into.
A moment later Adam’s cell phone buzzed. It was Gordon. He showed the phone to Kate. She hit ignore. Another minute later the old man started texting him.
“I must speak to you, Adam. Urgent.”
“Call me right away.”
“Urgent.”
“All of your lives are at risk. Call me straightaway. I know you are upset but so am I. We must speak.”
Adam looked at the phone and decided that it could only be used to track him. He would have to get all of the phones away from the rest of his family. They would be closing in on them fast.
He would be the one who the police would turn to once the shock of the bombing settled down: “the American,” “the Michigan radical, attempted murderer.” He thought now about the noises he heard in his garage and in his living room that winter. He realized he wasn’t out of his mind. They were in his house, planting evidence: maybe an Internet trail of him buying the materials, a convenient e-mail speaking of his plans to kill their prime minister. Who knows what they planted? It all made so much sense now: how he got his job, the reason he was picked to come to London, why Heaton had such an interest in him. The clues would fall like dominoes once they started looking into him. It wouldn’t take long for their version of the FBI to come after him. Heaton and his people would probably very quickly make sure the authorities were aware of the “nut job” they may have accidentally let into Number 10. They would think they were geniuses, the British police or Scotland Yard or Sherlock fucking Holmes, whoever it was that they sent to find him, not realizing that they were being spoon-fed fake clues. All this would take time. He just wasn’t sure how much time. He hoped at least enough time to get Kate and the kids on a plane and out of the country.
He rolled down his window and quietly put his hand out into the open air, in a very leisurely way, so that the kids couldn’t see what he was doing. He dropped his cell phone onto the highway and watched in his side-view mirror as it hit the pavement and bounced onto the shoulder as they headed on toward Heathrow.
What Adam and Kate didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that Trudy and Étienne had been texting each other since Brompton Road.
“I miss you, Trudy.”
“Me, too. My parents are both going crazy. It’s insanity right now.”
“Why? What is happening?”
“I don’t know. My parents are both freaking out. I think they’re getting a divorce. It’s gnarly.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure. Everyone’s freaking. My parents are both so dramatic.”
“Where are you now?”
“In a car. We rented a car. We’re driving somewhere.”
“Where are you going? I need to see you. You aren’t leaving, are you? Leaving England? I can’t let you go. I’m in love with you, Trudy, you know that, right?”
“I feel the same way. You are everything to me. I want to spend my whole life with you. I know you may think that is childish or stupid, but it’s true. I want to be with you. For the rest of my life.”
“I feel the same way. I don’t think it is childish at all. Where are you? I want to come see you. I want to hold you in my arms. I want to hold you tight and kiss you and not let you go forever. For my life as well, Trudy. I want to come see you. Right away.”
“Not poss. I am in a car on some highway. No idea where we are going.”
“Can’t you ask your dad where you are going?”
“I just tried. He isn’t answering. They’re both in the weirdest moods. Such losers sometimes.”
“I know. My mother, too. She is in a bad mood over something. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Étienne.”
“Ask again where you are going.”
As they pulled onto the Tunnel Road turnoff, as the signs started guiding traffic to Heathrow, Trudy realized they were leaving the country and started to cry.
“Oh shit. We’re going to the airport. The airport. Damn it!”
“Daddy, what are you doing? We’re leaving? We can’t be leaving? I can’t go. You can’t do this to me. You don’t understand. This is my soul mate. You don’t know what you’re doing to me.” She started to get desperate, leaned up, almost climbed over the front seat, begging.
“Look, look, Daddy, Mommy, I know you two are splitting up or whatever, something’s going down with you two, but don’t take it out on Étienne and me. Please. We’re in love. We are. We both are so in love. Mommy? Mommy, please, just let me stay. I’ll stay with Poppa. Just for a week or so. Please? Please, Mommy? Please!” Billy jumped up now and joined in on the panicked pleading.
“The airport? We can’t leave. What about Poppa? I want to stay here. I want to live with Poppa.”
Adam ignored them. Kate couldn’t look back, couldn’t face them as they pulled into Heathrow, prepaid on the longest parking ticket possible for short-term parking, and found a spot. Adam looked at his watch. It was almost eight p.m. There was an American Airlines flight at nine thirty. He had a short window to walk around freely. Right now, he figured, was all about mass confusion and hysteria at 10 Downing Street. They wouldn’t be looking for him quite yet, but they would clamp down on people leaving the country soon, especially unplanned exits. He was hoping he had a few hours before they got to that place.
He ignored his children’s whining and rustled up a luggage cart and rushed the family through to the ticket counter of the crowded departure terminal. He quickly checked a newsstand. The papers still had nothing. He tried to spot a television set but there were none in the departing terminal that he saw. He thought the police presence was heavy, but it didn’t seem any more than it was when they had landed.
“Are you at the aeroport?”
“Yes. I don’t know what to do. What should I do?”
“Can you please talk to your father into letting you stay?”
“I tried. It’s no use.”
“I love you, Trudy.”
“I love you, too. What should I do?”
“Do you see signs for the Heathrow Express? They should be all over the place?”
Trudy quickly scanned the walls around her. She saw the signs on the walls advertising the Heathrow Express train to London.
“Yes. I see them. I see arrows.”
“If you follow the arrows, it is a direct train back to London. It only takes fifteen minutes. I could meet you.”
Kate and Adam didn’t look at each other as they waited in line to purchase tickets. Gordon kept calling Kate. Adam could hear her phone buzzing. He figured it best not to make a scene right now and bust the chip. He thought he still had time. He took Kate’s hand. She wrapped into his shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay. Okay?”
She turned and looked at him. Her eyes were as dark as he’d ever seen them—blue eyes that had closed down, gone black with fear.
“No. No. It’s not okay. I’m so scared, Adam. I’m shaking.”
“I know, sweetie. I’m scared, too.”
He bought his wife and crying children three tickets. He was worried as the attendant at the ticket desk punched the family name into the computers. If they were on a list already, if there was a filter of any kind, looking for anyone leaving the country, he’d know it in seconds. But the ticketing went smoothly. The attendant could see that the family was grieving for some reason. She figured this was an emergency flight home. That someone had passed. She was overly gentle and sympathetic and gave them passes to wait in the First Class lounge and use the VIP customs line. Adam played along and thanked her with a bowed head, trying to put on the soft whimper of a man who was wrapping his head around a new loss. It was an easy part to play.
As they headed to the customs line, right as Adam began to feel hopeful about his family getting out safely, about having made the window, he looked back and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Trudy was texting. He lost it. He stormed over and grabbed the phone right out of her hand.
“What are you doing, Daddy?”
“What are you doing? What the hell is going on here?” He quickly read through the texts and went white with rage.
“How could you do this, Trudy? How could you do this? You told them right where we are. Do you realize that?” It threw the teenager. She wasn’t used to this. He was talking to her as if she were a criminal.
“What are you talking about?” She was at a loss. Her father’s anger made no sense. He had never spoken to her like that. Adam didn’t care. He was blind with rage. He opened her phone case, took out the chip from the top, dropped it to the ground, and broke it into pieces with his heel. Several other travelers stopped and noticed the commotion.
“What is your problem, Daddy?”
“My problem is you. You’ve betrayed us. Don’t you see that?”
He regretted saying that as soon as the words left his mouth. Events had caught up with him. He had lost his balance. Trudy was a victim of his knees going out from under him. He wanted to pull her in, hug her, but he couldn’t. He was enraged. Kate came over, rolling the luggage cart with Billy on the top, stepped into the wicked silence, father and daughter glaring at each other. She saw the broken cell chip on the floor. Trudy’s face flushed with anguish.
“What’s going on?” Trudy didn’t bother to reply. She looked at her mother, then back to her father.
“I hate you both. You both make me sick.”
She turned and ran. She ran as fast as she could through the terminal, away from them, into the crowd. She bolted, fled, escaped, darted away with all the speed and emotion of a scared young girl in love. Adam gave Kate the tickets.
“Wait here. Right here. I’m going after her.”
He chased her through the terminal, down a long winding hallway that kept sloping down, lower and lower with each turn, the walls adorned with large arrows and signs pointing to the Heathrow Express, bragging about the ease of the fifteen-minute trip right into the center of London. Trudy was running as fast as Adam had ever seen her move. The terminal was crowded and Trudy, being smaller and thinner, was having an easier time slipping through the people and the carts and the kiosks. With every turn of the hallway she pulled farther and farther away from him.
When she finally reached the ticketing area, after running almost a quarter of a mile through sloping hallways, she stopped to figure out the boarding process. Adam came around the corner faster than she thought he would and lunged for her as she was looking up at the departure board. The run had taken its toll on him. He was winded and as he went for her she quickly stepped aside. He went crashing past her, falling forward and sliding along on the newly polished floor. She watched him crumple and fall and was torn about what to do. She wanted to make sure he was okay but knew that if she stopped, he’d grab her, make her come back, fly home, leave England, leave Étienne.
She seized her moment. She turned and fled down the steps to the train stalls. She took them two, three, and four at a time. Halfway down she looked up, saw her father, once again on her tail. He was coming fast, his eyes on fire. She hit the bottom and ran toward the one of two tracks that flashed a message that it was now leaving for London.
She ran as fast as she could, blasted into the track tunnel, and then onto the closest car, right as the door clamped shut. She made it with less than a second to spare. She looked out and saw her father coming into the tunnel as the train slowly began to pull out. He caught sight of her watching him through the door window and she quickly ducked. An older woman with a frilly coat and a throwback of a hat, seated in the last seat of the next car, stared at Trudy as she sat there on the ground of the middle car’s entranceway, hiding from her father as he banged on the window, desperately yelling for someone to stop the train. Trudy saw the older lady look up to an emergency button that would immediately grind the train to a halt. She saw the woman consider it and heard her father outside, still yelling, still banging.
The older woman didn’t reach for the button. The train didn’t stop. It lurched out of the station, slowly picked up speed, and headed off toward London.
Adam was at the end of the tunnel ramp, watching it disappear. He was begging his battered body for the faintest version of an easy breath, soaking wet with sweat, trembling with white, airless anger.
He had lost her. Lost his window.
* * *
BACK IN THE departure terminal, he found Kate and Billy right where he had left them. Kate had seen him coming from the far end of the hall, saw that Trudy wasn’t with him, and read the look on his face from four long ticket counters away.
“She went back to London. To find that French kid.”
Kate held Billy close. She wasn’t sure how to react.
“Maybe this is good. Maybe it gets her out of trouble. Maybe she needs to be away from us until—”
He cut her off. “It’s not good. He’s a phony. I don’t even think that he’s that French bitch’s son. She’s with them. Who knows what they have on her.”
“What are you talking about, Adam?”
“They used Trudy to force me to go along with them today. They threatened me with her life.”
“Who threatened you with her life?”
“Étienne’s mother. She’s part of all this. She’s with Heaton in some way.” Kate eked out another groan. This all just kept getting worse and worse.
“Trudy’s in trouble, Kate. I need to go back into London and find her. Fast. You need to go through security and get into the boarding area. Get on the plane as soon as you can.”
“What if you’re not back before the plane leaves? That’s an hour from now?”
“You take off. I’ll put her on the next plane as soon as I find her. You need to get out of this country right now, Kate. Get Billy away.”
Kate just stared at him. It was all happening too fast. This new reality didn’t make any sense to her—the need to escape Britain, her own homeland.
“I won’t leave Trudy. I won’t leave you.”
“You don’t have a choice! You need to do exactly what I tell you to do right now. Please. Tell me that you understand this.” He glared at her. She didn’t know how to answer. She was too off balance to go head to head.
“Yes. Yes. I understand.”
It didn’t matter. As the words came out of her mouth, Adam saw Harris and Peet coming down the far steps. He saw them before they saw him. He grabbed Kate, Billy, and the bags and pulled them behind a currency exchange kiosk. He watched the two old thugs coming through the terminal. They went over to the ticket desk he had just come from. The bald guy asked for someone. The attendant who had helped them was called over. The window of opportunity had closed. They were on to them. It was as bad as he imagined it would be.
He turned to Kate as he grabbed the smallest bags and threw them over his shoulder.
“Grab your handbag. We’re leaving.”
“What? What about the cart? All the luggage.”
“It stays. Let’s go.” Billy grabbed his suitcase.
“No. My toys. My books. No, Daddy, we have to take them. Please. Please.”
“Fine.” He grabbed Billy’s suitcase. Billy stopped him again.
“Where are we going now, Daddy? I’m scared. You’re scaring me. Where is Trudy?”
“You said you didn’t want to leave, right? Well, now we’re not leaving. Let’s go, Kate. Now.” She grumbled as she picked up her carry-on bags. Adam picked up Billy along with his suitcase, guiding them carefully back toward the elevator leading out to the parking deck.
“What are we doing, Daddy? Are we getting on the plane? You and Mommy are both acting funny. I’m getting really scared.”
“It’s fine, Billy. Mommy changed her mind. We’re not going to leave after all.”
“Can we go back to that one hotel? The one with all the movies? The one near the park?”
“We’ll find a better one.”
He shuffled them carefully behind a newsstand as he waited for the elevator to land. When it did, as he pushed them on, as the doors closed, he and Peet made eye contact. They were spotted.
* * *
THE ELEVATOR DOORS opened on the parking level and Adam, Kate, and Billy bolted out and across the long covered bridge to short-term parking. Halfway across, Adam craned his head back and could see Harris and Peet on the outside stairs running up to meet the bridge. He still had a good three hundred yards on them, but they weren’t carrying an eight-year-old boy and an assortment of luggage.
They hit the parking garage, turned left, and ducked behind a row of cars. Harris and Peet entered the parking deck and turned right. The Tatums caught a lucky break. Their car was in the west stalls. They snaked their way quietly through the parked cars, finally reuniting with the Ford. Adam opened the car, winced as its alarm chirped, got Kate and Billy in, and left the west deck as quickly and quietly as possible.
* * *
THEY HEADED BACK onto the M4 toward London. After a quarter of a mile, Adam checked his watch. It was useless. He couldn’t beat the express train. He pulled off the highway onto a small road, stopped the car, and got out. He needed air to think. There wasn’t even time to mull it over or contemplate a way out. He walked over to the car and motioned for Kate to roll the window down. She was crying again. Billy was dutifully trying to calm her down.
“Give me your phone. I have to call your father. He has to go to Paddington and meet that train.” She stepped out of the car and closed the door so that Billy wouldn’t hear her.
“We can’t call my father. I don’t trust him. I never want to speak to him again.”
“I’m not sure we have a choice. That train will be in Paddington in eight minutes. If we lose her, I don’t know what the next move is. I’d call Beauregard, but it’d take too long to get him over there. Your father may have resources: some friends, ex-cops, someone. It’s his granddaughter, for Christ’s sake.”
She just stared at him, her phone in her hands, not sure if she wanted to give it to him. She thought about something for a long beat, another option. She wondered if it was the right move and realized she didn’t have a choice. She started dialing.
“Who are you calling?”
“Richard Lyle. He lives a block from Paddington station. I was there this afternoon.”
Adam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was like a punch to a gut that had already spent the day taking incoming shots.
“Great, so while I was knee deep in this shit that you coaxed me into, you were sneaking around with your old boyfriend? At his apartment?”
“No, I was innocently seeing an old friend.” She turned to him with icy eyes. “I was having a tea. You were blowing up Number 10. Please don’t even think to lecture me about how I spent my afternoon.”
Luckily for her, Richard picked up his phone before they could take the useless banter any further. She deftly told Richard their predicament without going into too much detail. She told him he needed to go over to Paddington immediately and intercept Trudy. She told him it was an emergency, to not let anyone else talk to her or persuade him to do anything but put her right back on the very next express train. He was more than happy to help. He could hear the stress in her voice. He didn’t need to know too much, only that he now had the chance to play the hero for Kate. He had the chance to see her again. He was in.
“Thank you so much, Richard. You’re a doll. But please, go this instant. Yes? Thank you.” Adam motioned for her to cover the phone.
“Should we text him a photo of her?” She took it as a good idea. She ran it by Richard and waited for a reply. She was nodding.
“Okay, sweetie, then just go. Go fast and call me once you have her. Thank you so, so, much.” She hung up and turned back to Adam.
“He says not to bother, says he knows what she looks like from her photos on Facebook.” Adam just threw his hands up. He walked away mumbling something about Facebook being the worst thing ever invented.