War of the Damned (Relic Hunters)

by Martin Ferguson

  Seated before the pirate ship’s helm, Matt is scribbling away in the journal that is never far from his side. My brother’s ever-present baseball cap sits on a skull fastened to the top of the ship’s wheel, and his leg, with an icepack strapped to it, rests on the barrel of a cannon

  ‘Dave been pushing you in the trials?’ I ask.

  ‘Yep,’ Matt says, eyes still only on his journal.

  ‘Leg improving?’

  ‘Getting there,’ he replies.

  ‘Still hurts?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘What you working on?’ I sit down on a chest that once contained Spanish gold.

  ‘Just a few old cases. Abbey received some new leads and information.’

  ‘Fascinating,’ I say sarcastically. ‘How’s Kat?’

  Then he finally looks up from his journal.

  ‘She’s…okay,’ he says hesitantly.

  ‘What happened?’ I ask. ‘You had an argument again?’

  ‘Same one,’ he says, closing the journal and finally looking to me. ‘With the baby coming, she’s worrying about everything. Choosing baby names, deciding if we should get married, buying a new house, living closer to our parents, buying things for the baby… the list goes on and on.’

  ‘It’s not surprising,’ I reply. ’She is the one who’s pregnant.’

  ‘Yeah, and I get that,’ he says. ‘I worry about the same, but…’

  ‘But what?’ I ask.

  ‘That’s not the biggie,’ he explains. ‘Working here, when we’re sent out on expeditions means I’ll not be able to return home easily to her or the little one when it arrives.’

  ‘And I guess the danger of our missions and operations doesn’t factor in at all?’ I joke.

  ‘It certainly does,’ he replies, tapping a hand to the icepack on his leg. ‘Though Kat isn’t as bad as our mother is with you.’

  ‘Don’t remind me,’ I say, knowing I have a dozen missed calls on my phone from her.

  ‘The problem is, I love this job,’ he says. ‘I’ve only been here a few years and I don’t want to leave it.’

  ‘I don’t blame you,’ I tell him. ‘Although, I guess, eventually, you might face a choice.’

  ‘Hence, I hide up here, avoiding it,’ he admits.

  ‘Look, I know you and Kat will make great parents,’ I say. ‘You’ll make things work. You always do.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he says. ‘That’s really good of you to say.’

  ‘And I will be the greatest uncle who ever lived,’ I boast.

  ‘And the moment is broken.’ He laughs.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt your bro time,’ Abbey’s voice announces over the loudspeaker, ‘but Charles will be joining us soon.’

  ‘We’ll meet you in the operations room,’ Matt says.

  ‘Adam, will you get Em on your way up?’ Abbey asks with her innocent tone.

  ‘Fine.’ I sigh.

  ‘Thank you, Adam,’ Abbey replies cheerily.

  ‘Don’t take too long,’ Matt warns me with a grin, ‘or get into another row.’

  We climb down from the pirate ship, and although Matt takes the lift, I head for the stairs, choosing the safer and less glitchy route. I jog up dozens of flights over what must be twenty or thirty floors before reaching the old planetarium. It has been closed off from the public for a while now, but there is one person who still makes use of it.

  I enter the large theatre and cannot help but look up to the large dome projection screen above. There are stars, planets, comets, and a sun blazing in the distance, all of it to the beat of heavy rock music played through the speaker system by the single occupant. I find Emma leaning back against the projector with her eyes closed. Her sketchbook is at her feet, pages open at her drawings of a mother and daughter visiting the museum; the daughter with a broad smile of excitement. As always, her sketches are impressive.

  Looking at her as she sits with eyes closed, I cannot help but feel longing. Emma Lovell is a year or two older than me, with red and purple hair, a great sense of humour, and a taste for adventure. To me, she is the perfect girl, but she has warned me away a fair few times. Abbey, along with everyone else, knows my feelings for Emma, but they’re mine to deal with.

  I approach slowly, not wanting to surprise her.

  ‘ADAM!’ she suddenly shouts, startling me. I lose my footing and tumble over the chairs behind me.

  ‘Need a hand?’ She laughs as she helps me up.

  ‘And there was me worried about scaring you,’ I say. ‘We’re needed in the operations room. Your uncle is about to arrive.’

  ‘And we can’t keep the old man waiting,’ Emma says as she gathers up her things.

  ‘Nice spot you have here,’ I say.

  ‘Everybody needs somewhere to think,’ she says as she turns off the loud music. ‘Matt has his pirate ship and I have here. Do you have anywhere?’

  ‘I did,’ I say. ‘I used to climb this tree in Richmond. From the top, you could see for miles and it overlooks London and the…. It gave me somewhere when I had nowhere else to go.’

  She looks to me and I know she wants to question why I paused. In truth, I don’t want to tell her that from the top of the tree I can see the churchyard where my father’s grave is.

  ‘What about now?’ Emma asks. ‘Where do you go?’

  ‘Nowhere,’ I reply with a chuckle. ‘There’s never enough time.’

  ‘Not with all the fun you’ve been having in the evenings setting the world to rights,’ she says with a knowing grin.

  ‘Thank you for your help with that slime-ball Sir Trevor,’ I say. ‘Couldn’t have done it without you.’

  ‘No worries,’ she says, borrowing my phrase. ‘It was fun. Duncan and Sara seem nice.’

  ‘They are,’ I reply. ‘Duncan’s the best and Sara is…’

  ‘An old flame?’ she teases.

  ‘Something like that,’ I reply.

  I pick up Emma’s satchel from the floor, spotting a pile of newspaper cuttings and articles beneath. All it needs is a quick glance to see they are all regarding the pyramid in Egypt that we unearthed, and the plagues that struck around the world.

  ‘I keep them as a reminder,’ Emma explains when she sees what has caught my attention.

  ‘A reminder of what?’ I ask.

  ‘To never let anything so horrific be released again,’ she replies with cold determination.

  ‘Emma, what happened at the pyramid, that wasn’t us,’ I try to reassure her. ‘That was Winterbourne.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she says with a shake of her head. ‘We played our part and suffered losses…’ Her voice trails off.

  ‘I saw them fixing the memorial plaque in Charlie Team’s operations room,’ Emma says. ‘It now bears John’s name as one of our honoured dead.’

  ‘He wouldn’t blame us for what happened,’ I try.

  ‘No,’ Emma says, ‘but I do.’

  ‘Anybody want to tell me what happened to our charges and triggers?’ Dave Conway asks as he enters Echo Team’s operations room. Dave is a burly former combat medic in his mid-thirties and certainly not somebody to mess with. As well as being a member of Echo Team, he conducts the training of all operatives of the museum.

  ‘You’ll see it on the news,’ Abbey says, turning away her screen displaying the breaking bulletin with the title, Vigilante Justice For Redundancy & Pension Crook.

  ‘It’s nothing serious,’ Emma reassures him. ‘Just blame Adam.’

  ‘I was going to anyway,’ Dave says.

  ‘Thanks everyone,’ I reply.

  ‘I’m just glad you didn’t take the explosives, too,’ he says as he takes a seat beside me and Matt.

  ‘Anybody know what this is about?’ I ask. ‘Or is it another boring protocol lecture from our lovely historian?’

  That remark earns me a stress-ball thrown at my head.

  ‘I don’t think that’s how they’re supposed to be used, Abbey,’ I tell her, before ducking again as a cli
pboard flies my way.

  ‘Now, now ladies,’ Emma mocks. ‘No catfights in the operations rooms.’

  ‘That’s hilarious,’ I reply with a sassy voice, earning an eye roll from everyone.

  ‘I’m glad to see some of us are in good spirits,’ the head of operations and our boss Charles Lovell greets as he steps into the room. He looks tired, pale, and he’s leaning more on his walking stick than ever. Even in his weakened condition, he still looks every part the English gentleman; well suited with a typically British moustache.

  Before he can take another step, all of us greet him with a round of applause. This is the first time he has returned to the museum since he was nearly killed by the Egyptian curse we stopped.

  ‘How are you, Charles?’ Dave asks, pulling a chair out for him.

  ‘I am busy and short of time as always,’ he replies, sighing heavily as he sits down. ‘I have been summoned to hearings with the United Nations Security Council in New York to discuss what happened to London, Paris, and Stockholm.’

  ‘You mean Osiris’ curse,’ Emma says.

  ‘Precisely,’ he replies.

  ‘Are you okay, Charles?’ Matt asks. ‘Not being funny, but you look exhausted. You should be resting up after what the curse did to you.’

  ‘I am afraid my rest is not on the United Nations’ agenda,’ he replies.

  ‘Are they trying to blame Osiris’ curse on us?’ Emma guesses.

  ‘I believe they may try to,’ Charles confirms. ‘I will do all I can.’

  ‘You fight for us and protect us,’ Matt says. ‘That’s all you ever do.’

  ‘Do not let what is happening elsewhere concern you,’ Charles says. ‘You have other matters to attend to.’

  ‘What you got for us, Uncle?’ Emma asks.

  Abbey hits a few keystrokes and the display screens around the operations room activate just as all the lights go out in the room.

  ‘Another power outage?’ I ask. ‘Any idea when repairs will finally be finished?’

  ‘Not yet,’ says Abbey as she tries to get the power back. ‘If we accepted Bowen Inc’s help like the rest of the city, the repairs would be done in no time.’

  ‘We do not need outside help,’ Charles says as the lights and screens flicker back to life, ‘especially from them.’

  ‘I’m just saying, they could help…’ Abbey tries to explain before Charles stops her.

  ‘We do not need their help,’ he repeats. ‘Moving on – we have received a request from a Scottish dredging team operating in the North Sea. They were carrying out digging excavations for possible mining locations when they stumbled on something in one of the underwater trenches.’

  A map on the screens indicates the location, roughly fifty miles east of Edinburgh and twenty miles off the coast.

  ‘What did they find?’ I ask.

  The map on the screens zooms in until it becomes a satellite image of the area and then an infra-red read out. Beneath the waters is a long cylinder-like object.

  ‘A sub,’ Dave guesses.

  ‘A German U-boat,’ Charles corrects.

  The screens then show us underwater footage of teams venturing down to the wreck and inspecting its hull.

  ‘The dredging crew found this vessel completely by accident,’ Charles explains. ’You could conduct thousands of scans for years in the North Sea and not find it. We were very lucky.’

  ‘The initial surveys have shown no visible damage to the U-boat,’ Abbey explains as she cleans her glasses. ‘The size, shape and specifications mark it as one of the most advanced U-boats ever recovered. They named these models Elektro-Boats; diesel and electric powered with the latest in navigation and weapons technology. The markings label it as U-4718.’

  ‘And that is special because…?’ Emma asks.

  ‘U-4718 was commissioned in 1945 by the Kriegsmarine, the German Navy,’ Abbey explains, ‘but never constructed, according to official records.’

  ‘Yet it has now appeared in the North Sea,’ I say. I feel the excitement in me already, and in everyone else in the room.

  ‘You want us to take a submersible down to it?’ Dave asks.

  My excitement disappears in an instant at the prospect of going down into the water.

  ‘No,’ Charles says. ‘Thankfully for certain members of your team…’

  ‘Adam,’ Emma teases.

  ‘…the dredging crew is going to use their mounted cranes to raise the U-boat and bring it back to shore.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Dave says. ‘We haven’t used our submersible since rescuing Nessie.’

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’ I ask.

  The others don’t reply but share knowing glances with each other.

  ‘You want us to join up with the crew and inspect the wreckage?’ Matt asks.

  ‘Correct,’ Charles says. ‘The vessel will officially be the property of Germany as it likely contains the remains of their deceased sailors. The German government is sending a team over to inspect the wreckage but the dredging team have requested our assistance to confirm their find and claim on any rewards.’

  ‘And we’re to get a look inside the U-boat before anyone else, right?’ Emma eagerly asks.

  ‘You are to ascertain this U-boat’s history,’ Charles instructs. ‘Where was it built? Who crewed it? How did it end up in the North Sea?’

  ‘You had better hurry, too,’ Abbey says, ‘I have received an alert that the dredging crew have already brought the U-boat to the surface.’

  ‘So the question is, how are we getting there?’ I ask.

  ‘Somebody ask for a pilot?’ Gabriel Quinn’s voice calls from the doorway. Gabriel, the scoundrel, drunkard and sole member of the museum’s Bravo Team, for once appears eager for a mission.

  ‘Depends. Have you been drinking?’ Matt asks.

  ‘Not since breakfast,’ he replies with a grin.

  ‘I want all of you to take full precautions and wear the body armour Tristram has been devising for you,’ Charles instructs.

  ‘The body armour is basically a reinforced stab vest similar to those in use with the police and army,’ Dave says. ‘They’re fine for protecting our torsos, but if we get hit anywhere other than our chest or back…’

  ‘Getting hit in the head might be an improvement for Adam or Gabriel,’ Emma mocks.

  ‘Ouch,’ I reply with fake hurt.

  ‘You will all wear the body armour,’ Charles states flatly. ‘After what happened to John, I don’t want you to take any chances.’

  His loss has weighed heavily upon us all.

  ‘I have one last bit of news before you all go,’ Abbey says before bringing up the images of two unscrupulous criminals on the screens.

  ‘Jack Bishop and Leon Bransby,’ Dave says with detest.

  ‘Escaped from prison yesterday,’ Abbey explains. ‘The authorities are trying to keep it out of the press for now but I thought you all should know.’

  ‘You were correct in your assumption, Abbey,’ Charles agrees.

  ‘Makov?’ I guess.

  ‘No idea,’ Abbey says. ‘There have still been no sightings of him since your showdown in the Vatican.’

  ‘We should remain vigilant,’ Charles advises. ‘We all have a history with these felons.’

  ‘Well, Adam blinded both with the Roman Eagle,’ Emma says.

  ‘And Dave shot one of them,’ Abbey adds.

  ‘Can’t imagine why they’d hold a grudge,’ Emma says, high-fiving Abbey as they both don cruel grins.

  ‘Cute,’ Dave replies. ‘Any ideas on their whereabouts?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Abbey says.

  ‘You can guarantee it won’t be long until they’re up to trouble again,’ Matt says. ‘We’ll keep an eye out.’

  ‘Is there any other business anyone wants to raise?’ Charles asks.

  ‘One last thing,’ Dave announces before we can move. ‘With your permission, Charles?’

  ‘Of course. Go right ahead,’ he replies with
a barely contained knowing smirk.

  ‘Before we set out,’ Dave explains, ‘I believe our team should review one of our members’ recent attempts at the trials.’

  Uh-oh. I have yet to fully complete the trials myself, for one reason or another.

  ‘Abbey, can you bring up the footage of trial two-five-seven-three, please?’ Dave requests.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Abbey says with a mock salute.

  As I suspected, the footage that appears on the screens throughout the operations room is of me. I am shown running, climbing, jumping, abseiling, and tackling every manner of obstacle as part of the assault courses. It is not too bad a showing up until the very end. I remember it far too well even without the recorded footage. I was nearing the finish, making excellent time as I leap onto a cargo net and begin my ascent. I was getting close to Matt’s personal best timing and was maybe getting a tad too cocky, if the audio of my laughter and taunts of Matt are anything to go by. I close my eyes as I reach my crowning moment; I lose my footing, missing a step on the cargo net and plummet. Of course, the operations room fills with laughter, even from Charles, as Dave replays this calamitous tumble again and again.

  This wasn’t the best bit though. As I stumble to catch my breath and pull myself up, I set off an entire cache of smoke grenades inches from my face. The entire training facility fills with smoke and I’m stumbling around blind with what looks like soot covering my entire body. The laughter in the room only builds and I have two choices – I can get mad or I can laugh along. I decide laughter is my best bet at not making a further idiot of myself. Emma falls off her chair in hysterics and Abbey lets out an involuntary snort.

  ‘Thanks for that, Dave,’ I say, punching the former-combat medic in the arm.

  ‘No, thank you, kid,’ he replies, wiping a tear from his eye. ‘I haven’t laughed like that in years.’

  ‘Will you ever pass the trials?’ Emma asks. ‘Technically, you shouldn’t be heading out with the team until you do. All operatives need to pass them.’

  ‘Hunters need to pass them,’ Abbey corrects her.

  ‘I have passed the majority of the trials,’ I reply, trying to defend my pride. ‘The mental ones are complete and I have scores up on the board for the physical ones.’