Golden Gate Page 14

  When he made it to the top level, he saw Monty and Sydney holding open the door to the reading room, signaling him to hurry.

  He sprinted full speed across the entryway and actually slid the last few feet across the marble floor into the room.

  Bong. Bong.

  He’d made it with only two left to go.

  “Where were you?” asked Sydney.

  Paris shrugged nonchalantly and answered, “In the loo.”

  STEP THREE—EXTRACT THE BIRD BOOKS

  Once they’d made it into the upper reading room, the team only had to rely on old-fashioned skulking and sneaking. They’d evaded the high-tech portion of the security system. Now they just had to stay quiet, make sure they didn’t attract attention, and listen for any security guards who might be on their rounds.

  “We’re looking for room two zero two five,” said Monty, who’d searched the library’s online directory to learn the location of the library’s ornithology special collections. They found the door quickly enough, but it took them a while to pick the lock.

  “What’s the problem?” Sydney asked as Paris fiddled with it. “I thought you were good at lock-picking?”

  “You’re thinking of Rio,” he said. “I’m pretty good when it comes to modern locks, but I’ve never picked one this old. None of my tricks work.”

  They heard a guard approaching, so they ducked behind a bookcase until the coast was clear. Once it was, Sydney took a crack at the door and had the lock picked in forty-five seconds.

  “You can use a flashlight,” Monty said once the door was closed. “No one should be able to see us in here.”

  Sydney turned on the flashlight app on her phone and almost let out a scream. Just inches in front of her face was a stuffed hawk made to look as if it was in full flight and ready to swoop in for a kill. The light reflected in the fake eyes that looked like black-and-yellow marbles.

  “I think it’s safe to say we’ve found the ornithology special collections,” she said, her heart still racing.

  They scoured the room for about fifteen minutes until they found three boxes stacked in a corner and marked PARKER RUTLEDGE. The boxes were still taped shut and obviously hadn’t been opened in the six months since Mrs. Rutledge had dropped them off. Monty wondered if the library staff considered them as educationally vital as Parker’s mother did.

  STEP FOUR—EXIT BY WAY OF RAPPELLING FROM THE ROOF

  Duncan Fletcher stood on the lawn that separated the library from the nearby Sheldonian Theatre. His eyes were focused on the roof of the Bodleian, and when he saw a quick double flash of light, he knew they’d made it that far.

  He checked to make sure there was no one nearby, and when he was certain it was safe, he gave the “go” signal of three quick flashes.

  The first one down was Sydney, followed just thirty seconds later by Paris. Monty trailed the group, and the instant her feet hit the ground, Sydney and Paris started pulling down the rope and coiling it up.

  Less than two minutes after Fletcher had signaled them, they were walking back toward Exeter College and looked like any group of students and faculty out for a stroll.

  “How was the burgling?” asked Fletcher.

  “We got all the books,” answered Sydney.

  “How many is that?”

  “Twenty-seven,” said Monty. “It was quite a haul.” She looked at her old friend and said, “Sorry to turn you into a criminal.”

  “Not a criminal,” he said. “A spy. Besides, I haven’t had this much fun in years.”

  It was late by the time Monty and the kids made it back to the safe house, but the others were still awake, waiting to see what happened. They had to be careful what they said because they knew there were listening devices in the house.

  “Everything good?” Mother asked.

  “Everything’s great,” Monty replied.

  They went into the home theater because it didn’t have any windows and seemed like the most secure room in the house. There, the three of them unzipped their backpacks and started pulling out bird books. They lined all twenty-seven of them up across a table, and the others were stunned.

  “Wow!” said Brooklyn.

  “You got that right,” said Sydney. “Wow.”

  Exhausted by the day, Monty, Paris, and Sydney plopped into a row of leather recliners. It had been a long day with twists and turns, but they’d managed to navigate it expertly. They’d eluded whoever may have been following them, beat the Bodleian’s state-of-the-art security system, and managed to bring back the bird books. They were tired but felt great.

  “So what do you think?” asked Mother.

  “It’s a lot of information,” answered Monty.

  “We’ll start sifting through it tomorrow when you guys are at Parliament,” he said.

  “I flipped through some of them on the train,” said Sydney. “And I think the key has to do with someone named Magpie.”

  Mother held his finger up to his mouth to signal quiet. He had long known about MI6’s attempt to locate Magpie. But his warning was too late. With the mention of that one word, the artificial intelligence program monitoring conversations in the safe house was triggered. “Magpie” was a golden word, and the system instantly began recording all conversations in the house and an alert was sent to a computer in Vauxhall Cross.

  21. Parliament

  EVEN THOUGH SHE DIDN’T GET much sleep, Sydney felt great when she woke up the next morning. Some of that may have been due to the fact that the town house was furnished with top-of-the-line luxury mattresses. But mostly it was because the break-in at the Bodleian had been just what she needed. It was fun, exciting, illicit, and a great boost to her confidence.

  It also helped that Monty had selected her for the job. It was a reminder that she believed in her.

  “Ready for today?” Mother asked when Sydney came into the kitchen for some breakfast.

  “Absolutely,” she answered. “Tru gave us instructions on how we should testify. And she very specifically reminded us about the Secrets oath. I know what to say and what not to say.”

  “Great,” replied Mother. “And the truth is, the questioning should go easy on you and Brooklyn. After all, you’re the victims. Bloody Mary isn’t going after you. She’s going after MI6.”

  “Is Tru going to testify?” asked Sydney.

  “That’ll happen afterward in a separate closed session,” answered Mother. “That way they can take everything you all say and throw it right at her.”

  “I feel sorry for her,” Sydney said. “She’s a patriot. She’s dedicated her life to protecting this country. And they’re going to attack her when she did nothing wrong.”

  Mother chuckled. “She’s tough. She’s handled far worse than an overly ambitious member of Parliament. Besides, remember what she said was her rule to live by.”

  “No matter what, my lips are sealed. My secrets will never be revealed,” said Sydney.

  “That’s right,” he said smiling. “She lives up to that.”

  There had been some debate about how they would dress for their testimony. At one point, Monty suggested they might wear their school uniforms, which Sydney shot down instantly. She had a strong sense of style, and after a week of having to blend in on the Sylvia Earle, she was looking to show her true self. So while Brooklyn went the conservative route with a simple navy dress, Sydney wore black pants and a white blouse with a fitted houndstooth blazer and a bold red belt. This was her power outfit, and it made her feel strong, which is what she needed at the moment.

  They took a taxi from Notting Hill but got out a couple of blocks early. Monty wanted to walk up so that she could get a read on the situation. Even though the hearing was private, the press knew something was going on. Monty wanted to make sure there wasn’t media crowding around the entrance, looking for any school-age girls coming to testify.

  “Now remember, Sydney,” Monty said as they walked along Victoria Street next to Westminster Abbey. “Brooklyn’s too
young, but you’re going to be sworn in. Are you going to be okay lying under oath?”

  “It won’t be my first time,” replied Sydney.

  “It won’t?”

  “Don’t you remember last night? I hereby undertake not to remove from the Library… Once you’ve broken one oath, you’ve broken them all.”

  She tried to make light of it, but Monty knew it wouldn’t be easy. Sydney’s moral compass was strong, and lying, even for the right reasons, was hard for her. It also didn’t help that she was going to have to do it in one of the most famous—and most intimidating—buildings in the world.

  Although people often referred to the building as Parliament, it was officially the Palace of Westminster. Just as most tourists thought its giant clock tower was named Big Ben when that was actually the name of the bell inside it.

  To avoid the media, the passengers and crew of the Sylvia Earle bypassed the visitors’ entrance on Cromwell Green and entered through a much less conspicuous door normally reserved for staff. Although it had been only a few weeks since the ordeal, it felt like a reunion of old friends when they all gathered in an ornate reception area with a name that was not particularly friend-like—the Strangers’ Dining Room.

  The room was large enough that they were able to break up into smaller groups. The three scientists were in the middle of the room, making a point of checking in on everyone. The captain of the ship, Frida Hovland, stood in one corner with a few members of her crew, including Hannah Delapp, the second mate.

  “The one talking to the captain is the one we think is MI6,” Sydney whispered to Monty.

  “Although if she is, I didn’t see her do anything useful during the assault,” added Brooklyn.

  “What we do is not always noticeable,” Monty reminded her.

  Much to Sydney and Brooklyn’s surprise, Judy Somersby approached them, but she seemed different than she had on the ship. Rather than having the confidence she exuded on the Sylvia Earle, she now seemed tentative in her manner, with her shoulders dipped and her eyes downcast.

  “Hi,” Judy said pleasantly. “It’s nice to see you two.”

  Sydney didn’t know what to make of the friendly gesture; after all, she’d hardly spoken to them when they shared a room. Still, Judy was playing nice, so she replied in kind. “Nice to see you too.”

  “How are you doing?” asked Brooklyn.

  “Okay, I guess,” she said. “Still kind of rattled. How about you?”

  “Same,” said Brooklyn.

  “I never got a chance to properly thank the two of you,” she said. “It was crazy on that island, and when I looked for you, I couldn’t find you.”

  “No thanks necessary,” Sydney said flatly, not fully trusting this new and improved Judy.

  They stood there awkwardly for a moment, and Judy added, “I also wanted to say I’m sorry about my mother. I’ve kept it a secret like you told me to, but I’d really like to tell her. I still don’t understand who you are, but I know that Alice and I are extremely lucky that you were there on the boat. So thank you.”

  “We appreciate it,” said Brooklyn. “But it really is best if you keep it between us.”

  “Just so you know, though,” Sydney added pointedly, “luck had nothing to do with it.”

  “Right,” Judy said. “Thanks again.” She started to walk away, but as she did, she turned back to Sydney and said, “By the way, I really love your belt.”

  “Well?” Monty said once Judy was out of earshot. “What do you think?”

  “I wish she hadn’t complimented my belt,” Sydney said.

  “Why?” asked Brooklyn.

  “Because just when I decided she was insincere and full of garbage, she made me like her a little,” she answered.

  “What makes you think she’s insincere?” asked Monty.

  “The way she treated us all week on the ship,” answered Sydney. “She acted like we weren’t even there. That we were beneath her.”

  “I don’t know,” said Brooklyn. “She sounded sincere to me. Maybe the hijacking changed her.”

  “I’m not convinced,” said Sydney. “It’s easy to come over here and thank us when nobody can hear. I still think it’s an act.”

  “And the comment about the belt?” asked Monty.

  “Oh, she totally meant that,” joked Sydney. “Say what you want about her people skills, but she’s got a great sense of style.”

  Monty and Brooklyn laughed, and then a hush came over the room as Mary Somersby entered with a small entourage of aides and addressed the group. “First of all, thank you for being here today.” She looked out solemnly at the faces of those assembled. “What happened to you is inexcusable. Your government—more specifically MI6—let you down. As a representative of that government, I offer my most sincere apology, along with a promise that my committee will get to the bottom of this. The proper punishments will be doled out, and the perpetrators will be captured and brought to justice.”

  There was polite applause around the room.

  Sydney turned toward Judy, who had a look of disdain on her face.

  “Doesn’t seem like Judy’s much of a fan of dear old mum,” Sydney whispered to the others, who noted the expression.

  “Now, I want to talk to you about how the day is going to work,” Somersby continued. “We’re just trying to get as much information as possible from each of you about what happened on the ship. To do that, we’re going to bring in groups of four, which keeps us from having to repeat too much and lets each of you have plenty of time to talk. Moreover, for the passengers, we’re going to bring you in by cabin, so you’ll be with the roommates you had for the trip. We think this will help you remember details better.”

  “That’s good for us,” Sydney whispered to Brooklyn.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because Judy and Alice will be the focus and they’ll do all the talking,” explained Sydney. “All we have to do is nod along quietly.”

  “Now, one thing that’s really important,” Somersby continued. “You have to remain in this room until you testify. That’s to protect you from the press as much as anything. If you need to use a restroom, one of our wonderful visitor’s assistants will escort you to a nearby room typically reserved for members. Also, once you’ve testified, you will not be able to come back into this room, so make sure to bring everything you have with you. And finally, we’re going to need to collect your phones until the session is complete. Trust me, they’ll be completely safe, but it’s a necessity. There are a few security guards coming around the room to collect them.”

  “What’s with all that?” Brooklyn asked Monty.

  “For one thing, they want to make sure no one records anything and that no one posts on social media,” Monty answered. “But more importantly, I’m guessing they don’t want the crew to be able to coordinate with one another or give warnings about what questions are being asked.”

  “Why not?” asked Brooklyn.

  “Because they may think that somebody in the crew is involved,” she said, “that they helped the hijackers. And they’re going to want to catch them off guard in that hearing room.”

  “Again, I am sorry for all the inconvenience of the day,” Somersby said. “We’ll try to move along speedily in the hearing room, and as soon as I’m done here, we have some delicious food that’s been catered and will be brought in. Thank you all. And once again, I promise that this government will bring you justice.”

  As far as her promises went, Somersby was fifty-fifty. About as well as could be expected from a politician. The catering was delicious as advertised. It was mostly finger foods, but there were plenty of them and they included the best scones Brooklyn had ever tasted. As for the speediness of the proceedings, however, that was a less accurate description.

  Each group seemed to take forever, and the hearing lasted hours. Unfortunately, the Strangers’ Dining Room didn’t exactly offer hours worth of entertainment potential. In addition to the food, there w
ere nine paintings on the walls, mostly portraits of past speakers of the house. With nothing better to do, Brooklyn and Paris spent a great deal of time studying the minutiae of the artworks, and among their insightful observations was the fact that eighteenth-century Prime Minister William Pitt and twenty-first-century Hollywood star Brad Pitt had nothing in common other than their last name.

  Monty tried to read the room as the different people were called out. She especially studied the captain, who seemed troubled by the whole situation. Monty tried to strike up a conversation with her, but after a few curt replies, she gave up the attempt. She had more luck with Virginia Wescott, the documentary filmmaker.

  “What are some of the documentaries you’ve made?” Monty asked. “Any I might’ve seen?”

  “Let’s see,” Wescott said. “I did one a few years back about the coal miners strike back in the mid-eighties and another about the women code breakers who worked at Bletchley Park during World War II.”

  “I saw both of those,” Monty said. “I quite liked them. Especially the Bletchley Park one. The story’s fascinating.”

  “Amazing,” said Wescott. “You know, some of those women had never let on about the work they’d done. Lived for decades with their spouses and never once uttered a word about Bletchley Park. They said they’d sworn to secrecy and that they’d take it to their graves.”

  Monty had actually enjoyed the Bletchley Park documentary so much that she’d watched it several times. Virginia Wescott moved up in her esteem several places.

  “I spent the last few years making a multipart docuseries about the history of the Olympics.”

  “I saw that,” Sydney added, beaming as she joined the conversation. “It was excellent.”

  “Thank you,” said Wescott.

  Sydney and Brooklyn were among the second-to-last group to be called in to testify. The only ones still left were Virginia Wescott, Captain Hovland, and two of the marine scientists who were on the trip.

  The first person Sydney saw when she entered the committee room was Tru, who sat in the corner and shot her a quick wink. Sitting next to her was her personal assistant, Jack Fissell. There were nine members of Parliament sitting at a U-shaped table with Mary Somersby in the middle spot reserved for the chairperson. They all faced a long wooden table where Judy, Alice, Brooklyn, and Sydney sat side by side.