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the moment. It wasn’t as accurate as the tracers Alpha Force wore, but it would narrow her position down to within a hundred metres or so.
    Amber put her phone on the desk. ‘The signal’s gone. She’s switched it off or gone out of range.’
    Paulo and Alex came in with the projection equipment and laid it carefully on the floor.
    ‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Hex. ‘I’ve got her.’ He turned his palmtop round. ‘Find that grid reference.’
    Li plucked an Ordnance Survey map from the bookshelf. She spread it out and located the co-ordinates. ‘Hex, are you sure?’
    Hex glanced at her impatiently. ‘Transmitters don’t lie.’
    She looked up at the others. ‘It’s a disused railway tunnel.’
    Amber frowned. ‘What on earth’s she doing there?’
    Alex got down to practicalities. ‘Do we take the Range Rover or the quad bikes?’
    Paulo looked a bit sheepish.
    Li glared at him accusingly. ‘You’re not still tinkering with the Range Rover?!’
    Paulo looked pained. ‘There’s something a bit dodgy with the ignition system. You know I like to have things perfect.’
    ‘Quads it is,’ said Alex.

5
    T HE R AILWAY T UNNEL
    Three quad bikes spun gravel. Then the fat tyres bit, and they zoomed off the drive and bounced up into the moorland.
    Hex, in the lead, pushed the bike up to top speed, keeping a careful eye on the ground. Amber, on the seat behind him, was in charge of the palmtop, navigating as straight a route as possible to the tunnel. As well as being a powerful computer the tiny machine was a global positioning system or GPS, using military satellites to pinpoint their position anywhere in the world. Paulo and Li followed on another bike and Alex was on the third.
    But a ‘straight’ route didn’t mean straightforward. The riders constantly swerved around clumps of heather, rocks and gullies. At a top speed of fifty-six kph, if the quads hit an obstacle they would turn over.
    Amber nudged Hex in the ribs and he adjusted the bike’s course. Beyond the pool of light given out by his headlamps the night was pitch black. A railway tunnel, Amber thought. What was Tiff doing there? She must have gone to meet someone. What kind of trouble could she be getting into?
    A glow of light was growing in the distance. At first she thought it was reflected headlights from a road: surely they’d vanish again. But they didn’t. The area of light became bigger. She looked at the palmtop. ‘That’s it,’ she hissed in Hex’s ear.
    Hex slowed. The others braked. There was a cluster of arc lights, and figures moving around. Something was going on there.
    Paulo stopped. ‘Let’s leave the bikes and go in on foot.’
    They cut their engines. They expected silence but instead there was a noise. A rhythmic thumping.
    A vehicle pulled up under the arc lights. A couple of figures got out and then it drove off. A door opened and a red light appeared briefly. The sound changed, as if the treble had suddenly been turned up on a hi-fi. Music: fast, tinkly synths. The door closed again and it had gone.
    ‘It’s a rave,’ said Hex.
    Paulo groaned. ‘Don’t say we’ve got to haul her out. I’m too young to be a party pooper.’
    ‘Let’s look at this logically,’ said Amber. ‘She’s fourteen. What would her parents say if they knew she was going to a rave?’
    Alex took out a small torch and they began to walk towards the entrance.
    ‘You know those horrible prefects who are always spoiling your fun, telling you off for running in corridors?’ said Li. ‘I feel like that.’
    ‘We’ve got to get her out,’ said Alex. ‘She’s not even old enough to go into pubs and buy drinks. We’re supposed to be looking after her.’ He grimaced. ‘I sound so square.’
    At the entrance was a circle of people waiting to pay. Their faces were painted with glitter and they wore strings of fluorescent beads around their necks and backpacks with cartoon characters. One by one they put their hands to their mouths