By the time they returned to the bar, Charlie was screaming, emitting that mind-drilling cry that only a hungry baby can. Amy sat down on the chair under the dartboard and, unbuttoning her blouse, offered him a breast. His head twitched frantically until he found the nipple, then he started to suck as though this was his last meal, but soon he relaxed into a regular rhythm, gazing up into Sally’s eyes.
The back lobby door had been wedged open and Amy watched as Daniel and the others ferried the provisions from the kitchen and storerooms to the cars. Charlie started to suckle restlessly. She lifted him onto her shoulder and patted his back to wind him. After half an hour Daniel returned to the bar, sweat running down his forehead and soaking into the back of his T-shirt. Amy looked up from changing Charlie’s nappy, ‘Are we ready to go?’
‘Not quite. Tanka and Peter are going to take the first load up to the Ground Station and then they’ll come back for you and Charlie. I’m going to the barn with Anubis. He wants to collect the weapons and some other stuff. He bent forward and kissed Charlie’s cheek, then gave Amy a lingering kiss on her lips.
‘Be careful,’ she whispered as he drew away.
‘I will… love you… love you both.’
41
Exodus
Over eighteen million calls from every corner of the globe had been received in the twelve hours since the president announced the reward. The computerised call logging system was repeatedly crashing under the load and the toll-free number was almost permanently engaged. Wearing his usual deadpan expression, Tom was congratulating the president on the success of his scheme, ‘It’s been a great success, Mr. President. I don’t know why they didn’t think of the idea before, sir.’ Inwardly he knew that even with every agent in the country working on the case, it would be impossible to process all the calls.
The president was revelling in Tom’s praise, ‘That’s why I’m in this chair and they’re not, Tom. It just required a bit of lateral thinking. I knew if the carrot was big enough, the donkey would cross the road. All we’ve gotta do is sift through the phone calls and we’ve got him. How long d’you think that’ll take them?’
Tom looked down at the app on his phone showing the call count, ‘As we speak, we’ve received just over nineteen million calls, sir. There’s gotta be about five thousand agents sifting through them, that’s almost four thousand calls per agent. I reckon it’ll take about an hour to screen each call, so if this app is correct… it should only take… twenty-three point eight weeks, Mr. President.’
Before the president could react the phone on his desk rang, he snatched it up and answered his secretary, ‘Thank you, Brenda, put him through.’ He glanced up at Tom, ‘I’ve just got to take this call from the Secretary of the Treasury - Hey Brad, how’s it going? Yes, I know it’s a lot of cash, but it’s done the job. We’ll have this sucker locked up in no time.’
Peter walked into the Ground Station carrying a carton of baked beans. He stopped after a few paces and stood surveying the vast interior, ‘What does all this stuff do?’ he asked.
Tanka ignored his question, ‘Stack the food by the door. We’ll be taking it to the cavern this afternoon.’
‘Cavern, Mrs. Perkins? What’s that?’
Tanka thought quickly, ‘It’s the name of my new cottage, Peter. The Cavern.’
‘That’s a rubbish name!’ Peter replied with his farmer’s directness. ‘You should call it Primrose Cottage or Valley View, something nice like that.’
‘Well, I’m sorry, Peter, but I’m going to call it The Cavern, even if it is a rubbish name.’ Tanka managed to keep the conversation going about the mythical cottage and its unusual name for the next thirty minutes while they unloaded the contents of the Land Cruiser and Peter’s battered van. The last item to be unloaded was Mrs. Perkins’ twelve-bore double-barrelled shotgun, which Tanka placed on the kitchen table along with two boxes of cartridges. She turned to face Peter, whose eyes were starting to scan the interior of the building again, ‘Right then, Peter, we better go back and get Amy and the baby.’
‘Why does everybody keep calling Sally, Amy?’ Peter asked.
‘It’s just her nickname. Now come on, she’ll be waiting for us.’ Tanka grabbed the confused farmer’s arm and led him out of the building.
Anubis unlocked the padlock securing the barn doors and dragged them open. Daniel’s last memory of the interior was Mrs. Perkins’ body lying in a pool of blood and the farmworker spraying bullets at the Land Cruiser as he reversed it into the farmyard. The ancient florescent lights pinged and flashed as they came on. Daniel sighed with relief; the Land Cruiser stood undamaged, parked against the back wall and Mrs. Perkins’ mutilated body was nowhere to be seen.
‘Open the tailgate,’ Anubis called out, as he unlocked the three metal cupboards, throwing open their doors one by one. Daniel walked towards the vehicle, keeping a careful eye on Anubis’ back, mindful of what had happened before with Mrs. Perkins. His heart skipped a beat as he heard the same metallic clunk of a magazine being snapped into the frame of an Uzi. He glanced back to see Anubis slowly turning to face him with an evil smirk on his face. He raised the Uzi’s barrel, pointing it directly at Daniel’s chest. As he approached, Anubis pulled back the cocking handle and then, standing only a metre away, made as though he was about to pull the trigger. Daniel flinched and closed his eyes, waiting for the first bullets to strike his host’s body, but nothing happened. He peeked through half-open eyes just as Anubis exploded into hysterical laughter, doubling up and chortling uncontrollably, with the Uzi swinging from his neck by its leather strap. As his laughter subsided, Anubis wiped the tears from his cheeks and tossed the gun at Daniel. ‘It’s empty, there’s no shells in it,’ he said, laughing as Daniel fumbled to catch it.
If they had been stopped by a police patrol on their return journey, Daniel’s reputation as a dangerous terrorist would have been confirmed. In addition to the tools and spare parts that Anubis needed, the rear of the Land Cruiser was now packed with guns, ammunition, explosives and six Stinger, anti-aircraft missiles.
Having driven Amy and Charlie back to the Ground Station, Peter stood in the kitchen area next to Mrs. Perkins, watching her pour boiling water into the teapot. ‘I think I should be going, the wife will be wondering where I am,’ Peter said, feeling as though he was intruding on a family gathering.
‘No, Peter! Stay and have tea with us,’ Anubis said, as they strode into the Ground Station, ‘you’ve been so helpful this morning. Stay and have tea and biscuits with us.’
‘That’s very good of you, Mr. Anubis, but I really must get back to the farm.’
‘Are you sure I can’t tempt you?’ Anubis replied, offering him the plate of digestive biscuits.
‘Thank you, but no, I really must be going.’
‘What a shame,’ Anubis said returning the plate to the table. As he turned back, the hammer he had used to attack Daniel was hanging from his wrist and without warning he launched it into the side of Peter’s head. Death was instantaneous, and his body collapsed into a heap on the floor. Stunned by the unprovoked violence, the others stood speechless, staring at Anubis as a crimson pool flowed from Peter’s head. He turned back to see their horrified expressions, ‘What?’ he said, irritated by the implied criticism. ‘It had to be done! He couldn’t keep his mouth shut at the best of times, you know that.’ Anubis was now lecturing them, wagging the hammer like a pointing finger, ‘You’re all hypocrites… worrying about one human, when we’re planning to kill them all, it’s pathetic-’
Before he could complete the sentence the hammer flew out of his hand, rattling against the workshop floor as it hit the ground several metres away. Anubis looked directly at Orion, but thought better of starting a confrontation with the poltergeist. His attention was drawn by the clunk of the shotgun being closed against its stock. Mrs. Perkins had loaded the gun and now stood facing Anubis, the barrels resting in the crook of her arm. ‘It had to be done,’ he repeated, almost under h
is breath, as though he was trying to convince himself.
‘I think you ought to be careful with that shotgun, Mrs. Perkins. We don’t want any accidents, do we?’ Everyone turned towards the open loading bay door to see Sergeant Rogers standing in silhouette against the bright sunlight. He started to walk towards them, unaware of Peter’s body on the floor.
‘There’s nothing to worry about, Sergeant. Mrs. Perkins was just showing us her new shotgun.’ As Daniel stepped forward to usher the police officer out of the Ground Station he flinched, instinctively cupping his ears as Tanka discharged both barrels into Sergeant Rogers’ chest, sending him cartwheeling backwards out of the building.
The shocked group stood surrounded by smoke, their ears ringing. ‘Anubis is right, we have no time for sentiment,’ Tanka said, breaking the gun open to eject the spent cartridges. ‘There’s nothing special about these life forms, they’re just one of millions in the Creation database. We kill trillions of them every day during extraction. What’s so special about these ones?’ Tanka was gesturing towards Peter’s body with the shotgun’s barrel as she slid in two fresh cartridges.
Charlie had woken with a start at the sound of the gunshot and was now screaming uncontrollably in Amy’s arms. She covered his eyes as she walked passed the policeman’s body, intending to fetch his dummy from Mrs. Perkins’ car. Standing in the fresh air she rocked him in her arms, taking in the view across the valley. Daniel joined her and putting his arm around her shoulders said, ‘Are you okay?’
‘It’s Anubis, Daniel. He’s dangerous. He scares me.’
‘It’s going to be alright, I promise you.’
‘Are you sure? You really think Anubis gives a shit about us?’
‘Look, everything is going to be fine… without us he’s screwed. It’ll take him years to hack into the drone’s control panel without the encryption key.’
‘And Charlie, will he be fine? Or do I have to watch his little body turn to ashes. Maybe Tanka’s right, maybe the kinder thing would be for us to kill him now. At least it would be quick and painless.’
‘Stop talking like that! Nobody’s going to kill anybody, especially our baby. Our baby!’ Daniel had gripped Amy by the shoulders and was talking directly into her face, ‘Now snap out of it! You’re Charlie’s mother, so just concentrate on that and let me worry about getting us all back to Creation!’
The president was sat on the end of their bed. His wife, dressed only in a scarlet silk slip was kneeling behind him, massaging his shoulders as she spoke. ‘As long as we’re together at the end, honey, that’s all that matters. If the good Lord thinks it’s time for us to join him, then it’s pointless us arguing with him.’ She forced her thumbs deep into the muscles on either side of his neck, ‘Am I hurting you, honey?’
‘Yes! But don’t stop, it feels so good.’ He let his head rest back against her breasts and she leant forward and kissed the end of his nose. ‘How can you be so calm? I’m terrified at what’s going to happen when Joe Public finds out he’s only got a few weeks to live.’
His wife slid to one side and pushing her husband back onto the bed, straddled him and started to undo his black bow tie. ‘Never you mind about Joe Public, they can look after themselves. It’s family that’s important. I want you to call our kids and arrange a family get-together. I’m going to cook the biggest Thanksgiving feast you’ve ever seen.’
‘But Thanksgiving’s months away.’
‘I don’t care. It will give us an excuse to drink all that expensive wine you’ve been hiding away. And then, when the Lord is ready, he can take us.’
‘What have I done to deserve you?’ he said, eyes closed, enjoying his wife’s seduction.
‘Nothing yet, Mr. President, but we’re working on that,’ she said, undoing his shirt buttons one by one.
The romantic atmosphere was shattered by a sharp rap at the door, ‘Mr. President, it’s Tom here. Can I speak with you? It’s an urgent security matter.’
‘Oh for Christ’s sake! Can’t he ever leave us alone?’ she snapped, tugging aggressively at her husband as she removed her hand from his trousers.
The president flinched and opened his eyes to see his wife storming angrily across the bedroom, slamming the bathroom door behind her. He sighed with resignation, ‘Okay, Tom. I’ll be down in five.’
That little shit’s done it to me again the president thought as he walked into the crowded Situation Room. Everybody attempted to stand up as he entered, pushing themselves chaotically against the wall of the room, trying to clear a path to the only vacant seat in the house. Tom pulled the chair aside, like a waiter at a downtown restaurant, and the president sat down. The tension in the room grew as everybody waited for him to give his usual greeting, but it never came, he just sat staring at his interlocked fingers on the table.
‘Mr. President. We have some good news, sir. We’ve had a match to the CCTV image we’ve been circulating.’ The head of homeland security’s voice broke the silence. As she spoke, she pressed a button on a remote, and the displays lining the walls of the room lit up, each showing two images; the first was of Daniel stepping out of the hotel elevator in Washington, the second was a scanned copy of a UK passport application, the photograph was identical to Daniel. ‘We received this from a UK Border Agency officer earlier this evening. It’s the passport application for a Paul Evans, a British engineer domiciled in Kent, England.’ She pressed the button again to display a copy of a U.S. visa application. ‘The last time he was in the states was a couple of years ago. He was only here a few days and then crossed into Canada with his girlfriend.’
She pressed the button a third time to display a second CCTV picture, ‘This one was taken by a passport control camera at Heathrow Airport, London.’ A heavily bearded Daniel was looking almost directly into the lens with Amy standing behind him holding Charlie over her shoulder. ‘The image recognition system has matched the eyes, forehead and nose. There’s a ninety percent plus chance that this is our man. I spoke to the British Home Office about an hour ago, there’s no record of him leaving the UK.’
She passed the remote to the director of the Central Intelligence Agency, who took over the presentation seamlessly, ‘This is a car rental agreement issued at the airport to a Mr. Paul Evans, Mr. President. A friend at MI5 has been tracking the vehicle for me. It last showed up on a motorway camera, heading north.’ He turned to the president, ‘I think it’s time for you to talk to their Prime Minister, sir.’
‘WHAT! Are you kidding? And let the cat out of the kennel!’ General Williams, the chairperson of the joint chiefs of staff, was pounding the table with his fist. ‘We don’t have time to fanny about with these Brits, Mr. President. We need to get boots on the ground, and fast.’ ‘Remember Venezuela, those Brits were useless! They couldn’t organise a hog fight in an abattoir.’
‘An interesting metaphor, General, but as I remember it, those useless Brits saved your backside in the Ukraine.’
Williams glanced at the head of homeland security and, treating her comment with contempt, continued to promote his plan to invade England. ‘I can have my special forces on the ground within twenty-four hours, Mr. President. I’ll have Evans back in the good ol’ U.S. of A before those limey bastards know what’s hit’em. I can be airborne within the hour, sir.’
‘Mr. President, I have to protest!’ the secretary of state said, pushing himself out of his chair, ‘This is a ridiculous proposal. The British have been one of our staunchest allies. We can’t just go putting boots on the ground unannounced. It breaks every diplomatic rule in the book.’
‘Okay, gentlemen… I get the point. I think it’s too early to go storming in, General. We’ve spent over a hundred billion dollars on hi-tech surveillance and response systems; drones, satellites, internet hacking, eves dropping. There isn’t an embassy in the world we can’t listen in to.’ He glanced at the director of the CIA, ‘Tell me I haven’t been wasting all those tax dollars, Pete?’
‘Mister
President, of course not. I’ve got a hundred agents in the UK as we speak. And, when I last looked there were over twenty five stealth drones based there… and I’ve got a camera in the Prime Minister’s bedroom. Give me the go-ahead and I’ll have this fugitive back in the US before the weekend.’
‘Mr. President! We’re fucked if we do and we’re fucking fucked if we don’t. Let’s stop fannyin’ around and just get on with it.’ The general was chewing down on his unlit cigar as he spoke.
‘What about you, Frank,’ the president asked, as he turned to face the chief of staff of the Air Force.
‘We’ve still got a couple of bases there. Lakenheath would be my choice. There’s regular air traffic, so we could sneak in a few extra flights without anyone noticing.’
The room went silent as the president contemplated his options. ‘Right… this is what we’re gonna do. I’m going to give the CIA forty-eight hours to track Evans down… discreetly, I don’t want anybody ruffling the PM’s feathers. And turn that fucking bedroom camera off! General, I want you to draw up an extraction plan… and without starting world war three.’ Before the bickering could start the president stood up, ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I have some very important business to finish with the First Lady.’ The president pushed back his chair and walked out of the Situation Room. As he waited for the elevator to arrive he turned to Tom, ‘Is there a camera in my bedroom?’
Creation- The Auditor’s Apprentice Page 36
