The Edge of Honour

Chapter 42

Gorran's POV:

I counted each second down in my head and took a long deep breath before I opened the door. Emilia and Javier ran first and I instantaneously followed behind them. All I could think about was the quickest way of leaving the building. As my body rounded the door and I began my effort, my eyes looked forwards. The sight that greeted me left me in complete and unmitigated shock.

My eyes focused on Morgan. Her body was sprawled out on the white tiled floor. Every so often, it shook violently as if a current of electricity was being passed through it. She still had the painting in her left hair, but her grip on it was nonexistent. More security guards than I could count began to rush towards me. Their shouts filling the air as the ran towards me- each of their guns was aimed almost directly at my heart. My eyes were attracted back to Morgan's limp body and I could only hope that no shots had been fired at her. Other than the sporadic jolts from her body, there was no movement, no sign of the life or the fight that she always had.

I felt the arms grab my hands, forcefully pushing them behind my back. I put up little resistance to the guard, resistance would have been futile. I was pushed face down on the ground. Hands patted up and down my sides as they searched me for any hidden weapons.

Through the corner of my eye, I could see more guards surrounding me. Javier's frightened screams and claims of innocence filled the air. It was clear that he had also been caught. 

I lay on the ground, staring at the tiled floor beneath me for over a half an hour as the guards waited for back up.

"You are going to be to taken to the local station where you will be questioned," an official police officer shouted at me in French. I had spent almost six years in school studying French, but never had I thought that that would be the one sentence that I would need to translate. I nodded my head in response as I was pulled to my feet.

We were led outside the museum in single file. Paramedics were entering at the same time and rushing to Morgan's side. Her body had ceased the spasms of previous minutes which only served to worry me further.

"Take care of her," I urged, as I was guided past them. A paramedic looked back at me, disgust evident on his face. He blamed me for whatever had happened her.

Ultimately, he was correct in his assumption. I had made the call. I had urged her to make the solo run with the prized painting. Whatever happened to her was my fault. I could try to pin the blame on the criminal organisation or even on April and Jet for sending us to work for them, however, fundamentally it was my fault. I was the only one who could be correctly blamed for it. The thought of anything bad happening to her had terrified me and I had been the cause of it. I should have gone first, taken the lead, but I was too frightened. She had acted as a sacrifice and yet none of us had been saved.

A white police wagon was stationed beside the door and we were guided towards it like lambs to the slaughter. Handcuffs were placed tightly on each of our wrists as we walked up the steps and into the back of it. Emilia and Javier both tried to resist it, which only served to make things worse for themselves.

Once the four of us were seated on the small wooden benches lining the vehicle, the back of it was shut behind us and I could hear several locks clicking into place. There was no escape. At the moment though, being locked away did not bother me. I just wanted clarification that Morgan was going to be alright, that nothing serious had happened. I wonder if I was just being selfish- if I only wanted to rid myself of the guilt which I felt.

About us, the metal handcuffs clanked as the swung against the wooden panelling that edged the walls of the wagon. Emilia and Javier were still discussing plans of escape, but I blocked them out. I felt more alone than ever without Morgan by my side. We had agreed to stick together throughout this and now that we had both been separated.

We were bounced slightly from the bench as the wagon pulled to a stop. Four guards surrounded the door as it was opened, in case any of us attempted to escape. Orders were shouted at us- demanding that we exit in single file. As each of us made our way down the steps, a police officer would catch our hands once me and guide us to the station.

None of the guards spoke to us as they led each of us into an individual cell. A guard set opposite us, eyeing us up through the steel bars that obscured his view slightly. A small skylight, barely the size of my hand was above me, other than that or the officer, I only had blank walls, a concrete floor or a wooden bench to look at. This wasn't one of the semi-decorated cells that I had seen in movies, this was real life. A toilet with a broken flush stood in the corner of the room, offering no privacy to the user.

"Can you tell me if my friend is okay?" I pleaded with the officer as he stared me down. I needed to know as quickly as possible. He provided me with my best chance of achieving an answer.

"No," he responded curtly. It was clear that he had no intention of helping me. To him I was a criminal who had attempted to steal one of his country's most important artworks. It was evident that he would be delighted if I was locked away for good without a trial- no questions asked.

"Please sir," I begged. "I promised to look after her. I'm the only family that she has." A slight laugh was audible from the officer and then complete silence.

Another guard stood walked into my view. He was tall and thin, his hair was grey and beginning to bald, but he did not look too old. He paced up and down past the three cells that we were being held in.

"We'll begin with this one, if he is the ring leader," he ordered. His finger was pointing accusingly at me. I suddenly felt like my plan to reveal the whole truth to them was not going to help me. Who would believe a sixteen year old boy was working undercover in the organisation in a joint operation between the CIA and MI5.

I wouldn't be able to tell them about my powers any how- April had a strict rule that I never reveal that information to anyone. The likelihood of me becoming part of a science experiment was far too great. Unfortunately, Javier and Emilia had seen both Morgan's powers and mine. I was certain that they would not hesitate in telling the police the truth if a more lenient deal was offered to them. My only hope was that the police would presume that their story was too far fetched and that it had been concocted by them.

As I approached the interview room, I bowed my head and said a short prayer. I pleaded for Morgan's health. I asked that the police would believe that I honestly did not want to be a part of the organisation.

If only I had known about the events that were about to unfold in that very room, I would have tried to find a way to stop it. Once it was happening, it was far too late to do anything. I could only stand by and watch with horror. More destruction and death had been added to the list of what I had caused. The damage was irreparable and my belief that I was doing the right thing completely shattered.