The Song of Mawu. Jeff Edwards

that today he would start in the very bottom of the building and work his way up.

      So saying, he climbed aboard a lift, and made his way to the lowest basement, where he searched every office and every cupboard. So far, this portion of the building had not been occupied and the few offices located down here were eerily empty. Most were being used for storage. He met no one and found nothing out of the ordinary, so he proceeded to the floor above and did the same.

      An hour later he had completed his search of the third floor of the basement and once more called the lift. As its door opened he was surprised to find Eliza inside with a lap-top computer case at her feet.

      ‘Going up?’ he asked.

      ‘Sure,’ she replied.

      The lift rose to the lobby, where Sam held the door open for Eliza to exit. Sam remained inside and pushed the button for floor six, where he and Bree had been assigned an office.

      Bree looked up from her typing when he walked in, ‘Find anything?’

      ‘I met Eliza in a lift. She had a computer with her.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘I was on the third floor of the basement and she was coming up from a lower basement floor.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘And, I had already finished searching the lower floors. There was no one down there when I searched, and no sign of any occupation, or computer equipment.’

      ‘Interesting!’

      ‘Thorpe will want to know. I’d better get to a secure phone and tell him.’

      ***

      ‘He saw you?’ asked Brian.

      ‘We shared a lift. I could almost hear his mind cranking over. If you wanted me to get the hard drive out of the building unseen I could simply have used the escape tunnel.’

      ‘We knew he was down there. We wanted him to see you.’

      ‘You’re trying to upset Thorpe again, aren’t you?’

      ‘It’s not for much longer. The end is in sight.’

      ***

      Thorpe rang one of the three young agents currently working undercover in The Fund.

      ‘The computer, where would she have taken it?’ he asked.

      ‘There can’t be too many places. I’ve been working on the front desk at reception, and she barely leaves the building. In fact, I saw her leave the building with a computer bag and she returned half an hour later. She didn’t have time to go far with it.’

      ‘Where does she normally go when she leaves?’

      ‘We’ve followed her and she usualy goes home to sleep. Most days she’s in her office at the crack of dawn and doesn’t leave till late evening. All her meals are eaten in the cafeteria or at her desk.’

      ‘Break into her home. I want you to find that computer and bring it to me.’

      ***

      The following morning Justine and Eliza left their shared flat in Walton Village and climbed into Justine’s small sedan for the short drive to The Fund’s headquarters.

      Not long after, a young female walking a small dog passed the front door of the flat and proceeded up the street where she came to a halt before kneeling down to pat her companion.

      A motor bike passed her and stopped at the kerb outside the flat. The rider took off his helmet and walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

      Behind him, the girl and her furry companion had retraced their steps until they drew level with the bike. Here she again stooped to pat the dog.

      Seeing that there was no one else on the street apart from the girl and her dog the young man swiftly picked the door’s lock and disappeared inside, leaving the girl to watch for any danger.

      His leather gloved hands left no prints as the young man made a thorough search of the flat and finally found the computer hidden beneath the girl’s dirty clothes in a laundry hamper. Tucking it beneath his arm, he exited the flat while making sure to relock the front door.

      As he climbed on the motor bike, the girl and her dog were already several houses away, walking calmly toward the far corner of the block.

      The motor bike’s engine roared to life, and the rider made his way in the opposite direction to the girl. He turned a corner and was soon heading toward London.

      ***

      Teddy Strang patted the video camera on the tripod in front of him. Its lens was carefully hidden by the window curtains in the front room of the house opposite Eliza’s. He placed a finger on the microchip implanted in his neck.

      ‘We seem to have at least two undercover agents working within The Fund,’ He reported.

      ‘Well, we’ll see if we can put that information to good use,’ came the reply.

      ***

      John Thorpe stood looking over the technician’s shoulder as she opened the lap-top and proceeded to turn it on.

      Nothing out of the ordinary happened as the technician scrolled through the list of programmes, searching for the downloaded videos that Thorpe was positive the computer contained.

      Clicking onto ‘My Videos’ a selection of further file names appeared.

      ‘Which one?’ asked Thorpe.

      The technician shrugged, ‘It could be any one of them. I’ll open them one at a time. Which one do you want me to start with?’

      Thorpe read through the file names and saw one titled ‘Glimgrow’. The word seemed to be gibberish but rang a bell in Thorpe’s brain. ‘That one,’ he said, pointing to it. ‘Glimgrow was the name of a dummy company that Jade Green used to buy her Rolls Royce.’

      The technician nodded and clicked onto the icon. A file opened and displayed a question. Secure access. Do you wish to continue? Yes/No.

      ‘What does that mean?’

      ‘If we answer ‘Yes’, we’ll probably be asked to supply a password before we continue.’

      ‘We don’t have a password. What will we do?’

      The technician smiled, ‘I’ll hook this one up to our mainframe. Then they can talk to one another until we hit on the right one.’

      ‘How long will that take?’

      ‘With the counter-intelligence programmes we’re running it won’t take more than a couple of hours. Do you want me to go ahead?’

      ‘Yes, of course. Let me know as soon as you’ve gained entry.’

      Thorpe turned to go just as the technician punched the ‘Yes’ option.

      ‘Shit!’ yelped the technician.

      Thorpe spun around in time to see a message flash across the screen.

      ‘System has detected use of unauthorised hardware. Too late to do anything now. Better luck next time Mr Thorpe.’

      The sound of hissing came from the lap-top and smoke began to rise through the keyboard. They watched in shock as the screen went blank and more smoke seeped out of the computer’s interior.

      The technician quickly pulled a fire extinguisher from its bracket on the wall and sprayed foam over the machine.

      Thorpe stared in dismay at the ruined computer.

      ‘I’ll take out the hard drive and see if I can recover anything,’ offered the technician.

      Thorpe felt like kicking the infernal machine across the laboratory, but knew that he couldn’t show that sort of weakness in front of a junior staff member.

      ‘Ring