In the heart of London – Surveillance at a glance…

The screen cut to black. Jake leaned forward. “Check the metadata.”
Emma was already on it. “Timestamp is from twenty minutes ago. Location tag… hold on…”
Her face drained of colour. “Jake… this was recorded inside Thames House.”
MI5 headquarters. Jake felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. “We have a mole.”
Emma nodded slowly. “And they’re feeding The Architect everything.”
Before Jake could respond, the decryptor pinged again — a second file auto downloading.
A map. Wembley Stadium. The surrounding district. And three blinking red markers.
One inside the stadium — the decoy. One at Wembley Park Station.
And one… moving. Jake’s eyes widened. “That’s a live signal.”
Emma zoomed in. The moving marker was travelling down the Jubilee Line.
“Jake… that’s a device on the Underground.” Jake grabbed his comms. “Control, this is Mercer. We have confirmation of additional devices. One is mobile on the Jubilee Line heading south. We need an immediate shutdown of the line.” Static. Then a voice — clipped, authoritative.
“Negative, Mercer. We cannot shut down the line without confirmation. Continue surveillance.”
Jake froze. Emma mouthed silently: What?
Jake pressed the comm again. “Control, did you hear me? We have a live explosive on a commuter train.”
“Your orders stand. Maintain observation.” The line went dead. Emma stared at him. “Jake… that wasn’t Control.”
“No,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t.” Someone had hijacked their channel. Someone inside MI5.
He grabbed his jacket. “We’re going to the station. Now.” Emma followed, already pulling up the train’s route on her tablet. “If we move fast, we can intercept at Finchley Road. It’s the next above-ground stop.”
Jake nodded. “Then that’s where we stop this.” As they sprinted into the rain, sirens began to wail in the distance — but not toward Wembley. Toward central London. Emma glanced back. “Jake… what if the Underground device isn’t the main event?” Jake didn’t slow. “Then we’re already behind.” The rain hadn’t let up. It hammered the pavement as Jake and Emma sprinted down the steps into Wembley Park Station, weaving through late‑night commuters who had no idea they were walking above a live explosive. Emma flashed her MI5 credentials at the startled station manager. “We need access to your control room. Now.” The man hesitated — one second too long. Jake leaned in. “Lives are at stake. Move.” That did it.
They were ushered into the cramped control booth overlooking the platforms. Screens flickered with CCTV feeds of the Jubilee Line — tunnels, platforms, carriages. Ordinary people. Ordinary night.
Except one train carried a bomb. Emma pulled up the live train map. “There — Train 214. Southbound. ETA at Finchley Road in four minutes.” Jake scanned the CCTV feeds. “We need eyes inside the carriages.”
The operator tapped a few keys. The screens shifted. Carriage after carriage flickered into view.
Then — a duffel bag. Unattended. Wedged beneath a seat. Carriage 4.
Jake’s jaw tightened. “That’s our device.” Emma zoomed in. “Thermal signature is elevated. It’s active.”
Jake grabbed a radio from the wall. “This is MI5. Lock down Finchley Road. Evacuate platforms. No trains in or out.” The operator swallowed. “I… I don’t have authority—” Jake snatched the radio. “Then give me someone who does.” But before the operator could respond, the radio crackled. A voice — calm, distorted, familiar from the video file. “Stand down, Agent Mercer. The line stays open.” Emma froze. “Jake… that’s him.” The Architect.