The man, his trusted assistant Manuel, didn’t look scared or shocked; such was the speed with which he’d run to the door upon hearing the news he’d come to deliver, he looked nothing but exhausted.
“Third triangle,” Manuel panted. “Sir, they just found it… two minutes ago. The news hasn’t broken yet.”
Godfrey rose to his feet, a thousand thoughts running through his head. “Tell me this one is ours,” he implored Manuel. “Tell me the Messengers have levelled the playing field and Ding needs something we have to complete his little set of three. Tell me we’re back in the game and it turned up in Colorado or Salzburg or Kerguelen or anywhere else administered by a GCC state.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Manuel sighed, still catching his breath, “but it turned up in China, and they’re already clearing foreign media from the streets. This is it.”
Part 5
Boiling Point
“The future is no more uncertain
than the present.”
Walt Whitman
V minus 27
ELF Headquarters
Beijing, China
“The atmosphere here has transformed twice in the last few minutes,” Maria Janzyck yelled into her camera, even this raised voice barely audible over the chaos on the streets behind her.
Over her shoulder, no reporters any longer stood where there had been dozens just minutes earlier. The exclusion zone, officially unannounced but visually evident, was expanding by the second as a seemingly endless line of security officers emerged from the building and spread outwards in all directions.
“News that the third triangle has been found on the Chinese coast brought fevered excitement to the streets of Beijing,” Maria went on, talking as she walked backwards along with the largely Chinese press contingent who hadn’t already fled at the first sign of hostility. “But all of that changed when these ELF security officers immediately began forcefully ordering all media personnel to stop broadcasting. As you can see, a large area around the headquarters has been cordoned off and the security staff are now pushing us further and further back. And this is not Chinese law enforcement, this is an ELF operation. An organisation which so recently seemed ready to finally begin opening up to the rest of the world appears to be reverting to type, and we can only guess what that means for the third trian—”
“American,” a Russian-accented voice snapped. Maria turned to see a burly man in an ELF uniform. He raised a hand to capture his supervisor’s attention, and quickly received a cut-throat gesture in reply.
Without any hesitation, the man ripped the large camera from the shoulder of Maria’s colleague and threw it to the ground.
“German!” another officer called, raising his hand. Twenty metres to Maria’s left, he threw yet another news camera to the ground.
Maria looked into her cameraman’s eyes. Partly because no one was recording her words, but largely because of what had just transpired, her tone was far less powerful than before: “We have to get out of here.”
V minus 26
Woodland
West of Archway, Colorado
Clark didn’t have to hear what Jayson was saying to the deplorable Jack Neal to know that he was sticking to the plan. He peeked out carefully over the dashboard and saw that both men were facing in the opposite direction. Jayson held a thumb up behind his back, and Clark knew it was time.
He grabbed some tape and bandages from a first-aid kit in the glove box then charged out of Jayson’s car, not one ounce of stealth, and tactically cut off Jack’s path to his own car. If the rat tried to run away on foot, Clark would catch him in no time.
Foolishly but inevitably, this was exactly what Jack tried to do.
Jack lifted his phone from his pocket as he began to flee, but Jayson proved which side he was on once and for all by diving at Jack and just managing to grab hold of him tightly enough to wrestle him to the ground. He wisely knocked the phone away before Jack was able to initiate a call or send a message, then delivered several full-hearted blows to his blackmailer’s head.
Jayson wasn’t trained to throw these blows but Jack wasn’t trained to receive them, so the effect of the wild punches was fairly significant. Clark walked over slowly, letting Jayson get some frustration out. After around five seconds he called him off and crouched over Jack’s still-conscious but greatly weakened body, gazing down at a bloodied face devoid of any resistance. He taped Jack’s mouth to stifle any calls for help.
“However much you hate him, you don’t want to see this part,” Clark whispered to Jayson. He didn’t have to say it twice.
The next thing Jayson heard was by far the most blood-curdling sound his ears had ever encountered. Curiosity got the better of him, and he turned around to see Jack quite literally writhing in agony with both hands grasping his right knee. Clark crouched down again and bound Jack’s hands with a long bandage, then did the same with his feet. The stifled noises coming from behind the tape covering Jack’s mouth sent chills down Jayson’s spine, but Clark appeared utterly unmoved as he picked the scoundrel up from the dirt and tossed him over one shoulder.
His next stop was the back seat of Jayson’s car, and as soon as the doors were closed Clark ripped the tape from Jack’s mouth.
“She’s in a warehouse!” the rat squealed, as easily and pathetically as Clark had anticipated.
“Address,” Clark demanded. Right now, nothing else mattered; there would be time to interrogate Jack about his motives and his partners once Tara was safe.
Jack hesitated, prompting Clark to slam a fist into his already shattered kneecap. In the driver’s seat, Jayson fought an urge to throw up at the piercing scream that escaped Jack’s uncovered lips.
Stuttering out the words, Jack gave an address that was no more than ten minutes away. Clark wasted no time in giving Jayson an order to set off, telling him not to worry about anything else. He immediately issued the same instruction to Phil Norris, who was silently and approvingly listening in on a still-live phone call.
“Your two men…” Clark said, wrapping a broad hand around Jack’s pencil neck. “Get them gone. We know who you’re working with, asshole… we know about the shell companies and the secret payments.”
Even through his agony, Jack’s expression changed with this revelation.
“Your game’s over. I don’t care who else goes down with you, but no one has to die today. And trust me, Jack…” Clark trailed off, releasing his neck and balling a fist over his knee once again.
“Please, no! Clark, I’ll call them… please!”
“I didn’t come out here without backup and I’m not going to this damn warehouse without backup, either, so if you know what’s good for them you’ll tell them to get the fuck out of there before we arrive,” Clark boomed. “Like I told you, no one has to die today. But if anyone tries anything funny… if any of them are still there when my team rush in or if they hurt a single hair on that girl’s head before they leave, trust me on this: with what I’ll have in store for you, you’ll be begging for death.”
As Jayson helpfully handed Clark the phone he’d knocked out of Jack’s hand, Clark pressed his empty fist into Jack’s knee firmly enough to make him wince. He asked for and received first the passcode and then the name of the contact in the warehouse, then whispered something in Jack’s ear too quietly for Jayson to hear.
Whatever was said, it immediately widened Jack’s eyes and caused his lips to quiver like a child on the wrong end of a lecture. Above and beyond the pain he had earned so far, the promise of something a thousand times worse had clearly had the desired effect.
For the second time in barely twenty minutes, Clark held his breath as a phone call transpired. Once again, the caller was under duress — his duress — and once again the stakes could hardly have been any higher.
“No, no tricks!” Jack said after giving the initial order. “Listen to me, you fucking idiot: it’s off. They’re already on to the location. Leave Tara unharmed, and don’t
waste anytime clearing the setup because they already know — they know about the payments. If you stay there, you’re dead… and if you hurt her, we’re all dead. Just disappear!”
Clark exhaled deeply; Jack wasn’t having to ‘act’ in the same way Jayson had, but he had at least been smart enough to stick to the script.
“Good,” Jack said. “And don’t forget what I know. If you do anything to fuck me here…”
Clark could only shake his head; Jack, an asshole to the bitter end, was even holding something over his own goons.
Never one to enjoy inflicting pain and never one to do so purely in anger, Clark took his hand away from Jack’s knee.
What happened to the rat next was a decision for later.
All that mattered now was Tara.
V minus 25
Mirador Hotel
Roatán, Honduras
News of the third triangle’s discovery came before Dan had even left the location of his interview with Poppy Bradshaw, and it immediately changed both the mood and his focus.
Kyle Young understandably asked for some words to broadcast on ACN — Dan’s live reaction would be one hell of an exclusive — but after an interview that was physically painful as well as mentally exhausting, Dan reluctantly opted out.
Emma stepped in, partly to give Kyle something in exchange for all he’d done for them but primarily to call for a measured response. She already knew what was happening in China with foreign media being ushered away from the ELF building by overzealous security officers, and she feared that a firm reaction from GCC Chairman William Godfrey would be forthcoming.
With their ever-increasing certainty that the triangles were real after all, Dan and Emma should have been feeling excited anticipation of finally seeing clear images of them. The muddy waters of international and supranational politics made things far less positive, however, to the extent that Emma’s first reaction was to fight the potential fire of an overreaction from Buenos Aires.
She said what she thought were all the right things to say: first, that it was a good thing that the triangles would be revealed to the public but a bad thing Ding Ziyang was freezing the GCC out just when it looked like bridges were being built. Second, she personally called on Godfrey not to overreact. She could and would make this point personally, but there was power in having the request out there in the open.
Kyle pushed with more questions but knew when to stop — Emma’s expression made that only too obvious — at which point he continued with some thoughts of his own. With his friend and colleague Maria Janzyck out of commission in Beijing, his footage and comments were all that would fill American living rooms for the next several minutes.
Amid chaotic scenes, Dan McCarthy’s mind turned to the Messengers. Where were they, and what the hell was going on?
Emma led him outside to the waiting car which would take them to their waiting plane, and she lifted her phone from her pocket to make a call. More in hope than expectation, she dialled the President of the United States.
President Slater answered the call so quickly that Emma knew she had already been holding her phone.
“Are you with Godfrey?” Emma asked.
“He’s with the media team,” Slater sighed. “What did Dan get from Poppy? Did she know anything about the triangles?”
Emma hesitated. “I’m going to tell you something in trust that you won’t tell him, okay? Not yet. If you tell him this, he’ll ask how you know. And if you tell him that — about Dan’s power — he won’t be grateful that you told him eventually… he’ll be furious that you didn’t tell him right away. The last thing the world needs tonight is for Godfrey to be any more riled up than he already is.”
“My job tonight is making sure Godfrey doesn’t do anything too drastic, so I’m already on board with that. But hurry up and tell me while I’m alone: what did you find out?”
“Cole is working with Jack Neal,” Emma said.
“Son of a fucking bitch,” Slater cursed.
Emma paused. “And so is Poppy Bradshaw.”
This time, Slater reacted with a silence that spoke volumes.
“This is a mess, but it could be a whole lot messier than we thought,” Emma said. “Somehow, I need to get Jack and Dan in the same room. I’m asking you to keep this quiet, and I’m hoping you’ll bear in mind that I know Jack better than anyone — if he even thinks anyone is on to him, in any way, he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we don’t find him. If he was standing on a cliff and he saw us coming, he would jump… so please, keep this quiet. The reason I’m telling you this is so you know that we’ve just made some major progress in finding out what’s really going on here, and if this triangle hadn’t just shown up and Ding hadn’t reacted like this I would’ve said this trip had been a huge success. We have a next move, Valerie; that’s what I want you to know. Whatever you have to do to keep Godfrey from going crazy tonight, please do it.”
“I will,” the President said. “And Emma… thank you.”
V minus 24
Disused warehouse
North of Archway, Colorado
“Stay in the car,” Clark ordered, speaking to both Jayson and Jack. In reality, though, Jack and his injured leg were going nowhere.
At his instruction, Jayson had parked the vehicle around forty metres from the disused warehouse where Tara was apparently being kept, with Phil Norris parking around the same distance away in the opposite direction.
Before getting out of the car, Clark covered Jack’s mouth with tape once again. “Don’t look at him,” he told Jayson. “And whatever the hell you do, don’t talk to him. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Clark stepped outside and signalled to Phil. They’d come this far and Jack’s instructions for his goons to disappear had certainly sounded firm enough to do the job, but Clark still knew much better than to go inside alone. Phil was no stranger to getting his hands dirty, and the very fact that he was still at Clark’s side after everything that had happened showed that he could be counted on.
The fact that he’d come along in the first place despite his misgivings showed as much, really, but if there had been any doubts they were all gone now.
“You’re going to drive her home,” Clark said to Phil, pausing briefly at a door he fully expected to have to break through and refusing to even entertain the notion that he might find anything on the other side except Tara safe and well. “I don’t want her to have to see either of those two again.”
“Got it,” Phil said. He gestured to the door. “Let’s do this.”
The door buckled under the effortless weight of Clark’s shoulder, hinting that it hadn’t been locked in any serious way.
Instantly, both men heard muffled cries for help. Neither had to search for the origin — at the very back of the desolate warehouse, they saw someone bound to a chair. The orange bucket that had been crudely placed over their head made it impossible to say for certain, but Clark recognised the muffled voice.
“Tara!” he called, sprinting over.
Her voice filled the room again, the tone this time very different.
Clark reached her and removed the bucket, revealing an understandably frightened and mascara-stained face that at the very least didn’t look to have been injured. He unbound her hands from behind her back and untied her feet underneath the chair, allowing her to deal with the tape covering her mouth so that she was in control of its potentially painful removal.
She collapsed into Clark’s chest before even removing the tape, however, too weak to even wrap her arms around him.
“You’re safe now,” Clark reassured her in a calm and gentle tone, relief and joy having momentarily overtaken murderous rage within him. He wanted to ask if they’d hurt her, but now wasn’t the time; he would listen if she wanted to talk, of course, but that was for her to decide.
Tara slowly lifted her head and looked up at him. “What happened? How did you find me?”
“I’ll tell you at home, but right
now I just want you to know that everything is going to be okay. I know who was responsible and he’s going to pay, but right now we’re going to get you out of here. I have to deal with him, so I brought Phil along to drive you back to Birchwood. Ain’t that right, Phil?” Clark asked, impatiently beckoning him over and simultaneously wondering why he was still standing at the entrance.
Walking with her head low, Tara reached Phil and hugged him. She didn’t know him as well as she knew Henry or Mr Byrd, but he was here to help and that was what mattered.
“You’re okay now, darling,” Phil said. But as he spoke, he gestured over her head to Clark and pointed towards the wall to their right.
Clark glanced over and felt a flood of confusion and disbelief shake him to the core. He saw another chair sitting between an expensive-looking camera setup and a giant flag adorning the wall.
Jet black other than a small blue circle in the centre, the design was all too familiar to him as the flag of the GeoSovs.
“What the fuck…?” he mused, walking over. He had known that Jack was back involved with John Cole, but Jack and the GeoSovs? He then recalled Jack’s tone when telling his goons over the phone that Clark knew about the payments… and now, in his mind, it seemed to Clark as though his knowledge of shady transactions between Jack and Cole might have been confused by Jack as knowledge of transactions between he and the GeoSovs.
Whatever this meant, Clark couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that it also couldn’t be good.
Instinctively, he took the phone from his pocket and snapped some photos of the scene before ripping the flag from the wall and lifting the camera to carry it away, too.
The Final Call Page 27
