‘Don’t forget at least one of them had a gun. Hasn’t got it now of course,’ Hugo grinned and patted his waistband, ‘but that’s not to say some of the others might not be armed.’
Alain nodded, constantly scanning the gloom as he continued to whisper ‘Where are you?’ in a voice with an undercurrent of worry that sounded like a man trying to connect with his friends. Hopefully the opposition was still eavesdropping.
‘I’m not sure this is working,’ he said.
‘I think it is, watch out.’
Three thick ropes snaked down from above. Three forms slithered down to land immediately in front of the clones. As they came forward, it was clear the clones’ advantage of night vision was lost. The newcomers were wearing helmets with chunky night vision goggles and military looking earpieces. Each kicked the rope out of the way as he landed and drew a baton. It could have been an uneven battle, had the headgear not effectively blinkered the men to the approach of Xavier and Brontë from the sides. Two minutes later, two more hog-tied forms joined his companions tied to the locker handles while the third was dragged up the stairs.
‘It’s time we had a talk,’ said Xavier.
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