Tethered Twins

Chapter Eleven

Emmie Keyes

Birmingham: Ten miles.

Almost there, I thought.

“Emmie,” I heard Grace’s voice over my headset “So what’s the plan?”

Although I’d told Grace where we were going I hadn’t even explained why or what exactly I hoped to achieve.

“Will worked at TethTech. They’re a military contractor and if he was a part of anything that could have gotten him killed it would be to do with them,” I explained.

“What makes you think they’ll tell you anything?” asked Grace.

“I have no idea but if I can understand what types of projects Will may have been working on then that may be my best chance for answers.”

We approached the ringed gate around Birmingham. An electrified barbed wire fence ran around the edge of the city, enclosing its thousand square miles from outsiders. Behind the barbed wire was a concrete wall fifteen foot tall, which had more barbed wire on top of it. Security cameras ran along the perimeter. Apart from the thirteen gates that ran around the outer walls there was no other way into the city on foot.

As I looked at the imposing structure I suddenly became very aware of the fake identity in my pocket. I repeated my new name over and over in my head “Jessica Young, Jessica Young, Jessica Young.”

There were only six of us in the queue. It was rare for people to leave or enter the city. Once you were in there was little reason to leave. Despite this the queue moved slowly, with extensive checks required for each person visiting. A necessary requirement to protect the city.

“Name please,” the guard faced me and it was my turn to be scrutinised.

I paused for a split second to make sure I got it correct. “Jessica Young.”

“ID Please,” he asked.

I reached into my purse and spotted my real ID sitting right next to my fake ID. “God Emmie, did you even think this through?”  Grabbing the fake ID and making a mental note to hide the real one later I handed it over.

The guard looked at the holographic seal on my ID. “Surely that would be hard to fake? Especially for a movie prop designer,” My faith in Grace’s colleague started to wane.

“Hold on one moment,” he showed the ID to his colleague and I placed my hand on my motorbike keys ready to escape if the ID didn’t work.

His colleague looked at the ID from inside his security room. I couldn’t see what they were saying but it was an agonising minute and a half.

The guard returned and asked “Are you her?”

“Who?” I replied.

“Your name; ‘Jessica Young’. Are you really her?” he asked.

I wondered if this was it. The ID was worthless. I’d fallen at the first hurdle. Will would be so disappointed. Running wasn’t an option; they’d shoot me dead before I made it to my motorbike. I had no choice but to continue the lie. “Yes, I’m Jessica Young.”

“Yeah but are you the Jessica Young?” he emphasised the ‘the’ as if there was something special about the name. Then it dawned on me. Jessica Young was also the name of a famous British athlete who had won gold in a running event a few years before. No wonder the name sounded familiar when I plucked it from the air.

“If only, sadly I’m no athlete,” I replied.

“Shame, my daughter would have loved your autograph. I mean her autograph,” he said.