‘Oh yes, Mr Tork,’ Ophelia’s smile grew wider. ‘Yes way, indeed.’
She let go of the flush and pushed on the big, white cistern that was attached to the wall. It moved back into a recess and, as it did, the floor began to open and the toilet itself dropped down out of sight. A dim light flickered on from below and Fitz could see a set of concrete steps, several spiders and at least one rat.
Ophelia set off down the steps, the light clack of her shoes echoing back up towards the group. Fitz couldn’t help but be a little bit excited.
‘Well, I’m in!’ He set off after Ophelia.
Azima looked at the steps, her eyebrows raised in trepidation. ‘Yeah, but into an actual toilet?’ She hesitated.
‘Don’t worry - the plumbing was removed almost 70 years ago,’ Harry said reassuringly.
‘Wonderful. You’re still asking me to follow an old lady into a toilet – which is still a little bit weird.’
‘Not averse to a little adventure, are you?’ Barnaby asked, with a little edge in his voice.
‘I’m a scientist, not an explorer. We tend to like to assess things like going underground with a group of strangers, before we fully commit.’
‘Okay,’ Harry jumped in. ‘Well, you’re certainly not a prisoner. No one is forcing you to do anything you don’t want to, okay?’
‘Not at all,’ Barnaby confirmed.
‘So I can go down there, hear what you guys have to say and if I don’t like it…’
‘I will happily show you back up here myself,’ Barnaby said reassuringly.
‘Good,’ Azima replied and set off down the steps, with Harry following close behind.
‘As soon as you’ve signed the Official Secrets Act,’ Barnaby whispered to himself as he closed the toilet door.
Ophelia led them down a circular passage that reminded Fitz of some of the narrow tunnels in the London Underground. He thought about how much Boyd would hate being in here; the air was thick and the tunnel seemed to be getting narrower and narrower as they continued deeper underground. As the walls moved closer towards him, Fitz noticed that they were yellowy-brown and slick with dirty condensation. There was a constant drip-dripping that echoed loudly, and the lights – old-fashioned looking bulbs behind wire mesh – flickered on and off constantly.
Finally, they reached the end of the tunnel and Ophelia stood in front of a small, round door that reminded Fitz of the doors in old submarine war movies: thick metal with a wheel in the middle. Ophelia grabbed the wheel and Fitz was about to ask if she needed help with turning it when she bent down. Ophelia lined her eye up with the centre of the wheel, wrenched it counterclockwise and spoke loudly over the noise the mechanism was making.
‘X-One – Ten dash Ten dash Seven-Two.’
Fitz then saw a green light shine out of the centre cap of the wheel and meet Ophelia’s open eye. The light formed a flat shape that brushed over her eyeball, scanning back and forth before disappearing. The door then clunked and released.
‘Right, in we go.’ Ophelia pulled the door back and stepped over the threshold. She held the door for the rest of them as they all entered one by one, stopping just inside the door as the lights finally flickered on.
‘Welcome to what we affectionately call the Toy Shop,’ Ophelia said proudly.
They had entered a cold, underground room about the size of a football pitch. Its walls and ceiling were lined with brownish-white tiles. In front of them were four steps leading down to old wooden desks. They were on a slope, leading to a set of screens on a raised stage at the front, giving the room the appearance of a theatre.
Just like the tunnel, the room smelt musty and damp and Fitz could see that there were several old metal buckets dotted around on the floor and on desks, positioned to catch the drips from a leaky roof. The lights had large, copper shades that hung low on long, gold chains. Fitz looked up at the ceiling and noticed a huge crest painted on it in gold and black. It had the silhouette of a roaring lion’s head, the same one as he had seen on Ophelia’s key. Under it were the words: ‘In Ministerium Scienta.’
Harry noticed Fitz looking up at it. ‘In the Service of Science,’ he said. ‘That’s the Section X crest.’
Fitz nodded. ‘Where’s everyone else?’ Fitz asked.
‘No one else, just us,’ Ophelia replied.
She walked purposefully down a walkway through the middle of the desks, picked up a remote control and stopped in front of the bank of televisions that covered the far wall. She pressed the remote control and the screens flickered into life. Fitz swallowed hard as he saw a face emerge in giant form on the screens. The sight of Hornet in actual size was enough to make his skin crawl but a giant version of her face in HD made him shiver.
‘Take a seat, please, everyone. We’re going to have a short history lesson.’
Hurricane Warning
Fitz stood leaning against a desk whilst Azima sat in a chair, hugging her legs. They faced the bank of screens whilst Ophelia, small and austere, marched up and down in front of them as she spoke. She clicked the remote control and another face appeared on one of the screens.
‘That’s Lord Ravensbrook, isn’t it?’ Fitz asked, looking at the image of the dusty adventurer holding a dinosaur bone aloft in triumph.
‘It is,’ Ophelia nodded.
‘He came to speak at our school. Turned up in a super-charged Bentley. Pretty cool bloke.’
‘That’s exactly the image he likes to convey. What I’m about to tell you all can never leave this room. It is, at the risk of sounding just a little melodramatic, top secret. Am I making myself clear?’
Azima looked at Fitz and they silently nodded their agreement before Fitz answered for them.
‘Our friends are missing, so, like, yeah, whatever it takes.’
‘Thank you. Ravensbrook’s reputation is built around being a philanthropist, a teacher; a man who uses his vast riches for the good of mankind. He makes no secret of the fact that he dedicates a substantial amount of those riches towards his first love: experimental sciences. Around 20 years ago, Ravensbrook funded a little research team and plonked them in the middle of the ocean, near the Bahamas, on a place called Hurricane Island. This team was a carefully selected group of specialists and Ravensbrook managed to keep the security on the island extremely tight. Section X tried to get close, but this man stood in our way.’
Ophelia clicked the remote and an image of chubby, bald man popped up onto the screens. ‘This is Arnold Bishop.’ She looked to Fitz and raised her eyebrows.
‘Oh, right,’ he said nervously. ‘Yeah, not a clue who that is, never heard of him.’
‘That’s rather strange, Fitz, seeing as you broke into his flat earlier today.’
‘Oh, that Arnold Bishop. Gotcha.’ Fitz made a face and Azima smiled in appreciation.
‘We believe that Ravensbrook, along with at least one prominent politician and with the skills of Mr Bishop, sought to rebuild an ancient scientific society called the Trinity Guild. The Guild was originally founded by Sir Isaac Newton in 1663.’
‘The gravity guy?’ Fitz inquired.
‘Yes, Fitz, the “gravity guy”. Newton left the Trinity Guild after two or three years as he disagreed with their extreme beliefs. They were obsessed with the idea of utilising elements from other planets to make humankind stronger, faster, more powerful. The Guild developed the reputation of a cult, a gaggle of lunatics, and Newton wanted no part in it. The key members of Ravensbrook’s reformed Trinity Guild were two scientists, a husband-and-wife team, both with different specialties. But we were pretty certain that the initial project was the same as it had always been: to develop a way to make human beings stronger, faster and deadlier.’
‘Super Soldiers?’ Fitz inquired.
‘Yes, that’s the kind of thing. It was a crazy idea of the husband, a scientist called Dr Karl Adler, and, unfortunately, whilst his wife, Erica, was keen to use her discoveries to help humankind, Karl was exceptionally greedy and probably quite insane. Er
ica was pregnant, so she naturally took a backseat, but she continued her work in secret. Meanwhile, Karl Adler and Trinity were getting nowhere and Ravensbrook was just about ready to pull out of the project. Then, from what we gather, Karl discovered that Erica had made a tremendous breakthrough in her research and he went absolutely mad – they fought and there was a huge fire on the island. The Trinity Guild were only interested in power and wealth, and they bet almost everything on Karl Adler and Operation Hurricane only to watch it fall apart. Ravensbrook made sure everything was cleared up and by the time we had permission from the locals to search through the rubble, there was nothing left, and the Adler family had disappeared. It was after this that Section X was all but closed down. The government and the security service didn’t trust us to make sure that this kind of thing never happened again.’
‘But this Karl and Lord Ravensbrook and their Trinity Guild – they failed? They left Hurricane Island empty-handed?’ Fitz asked.
‘We can’t be sure. We know that the Guild broke apart and Hurricane was buried; no one ever spoke of it. With Ravensbrook and the politicians having their dirty little fingers all over the project, can you imagine what the public would think if they found out? Human experiments? Ancient societies? It wasn’t safe for anyone to talk to us. But the best we can gather is, whatever they managed to create down there, when the Guild broke apart that night, no one had all the pieces of the jigsaw. But they did create something; Bishop eventually revealed that much to Harry. Something happened out there in the middle of the sea that convinced Ravensbrook not to give up entirely. There are rumours, of course.’
‘Time travel,’ Azima said, confidently.
‘That’s one of them yes, but…’ Ophelia wagged a finger.
‘You know as well as I do that is what’s causing the power surges.’
‘It’s too early to confirm that.’
Azima was locked eyes with Ophelia. ‘Whatever they were doing in the Bahamas all those years ago, they screwed it up, but out of their mistake they found a way to create some kind of wormhole and travel through time.’
‘That’s a dangerous assumption. You have to understand, Azima, you’re just a blogger and…’
‘I’m a scientist, actually. And my professional opinion is that these surges should be shaking the planet to pieces, but they’re not. So why? Because they are controlled somehow. Maybe they are using something from another planet, y’know, like Isaac Newton and his squad were looking into. But whatever their method is, it’s deliberate and it’s bigger than anything we’ve ever seen.’
‘I appreciate you know your field. I know mine, and however you cut it, you work for a YouTube conspiracy theorist.’
Azima dropped her legs to the floor and stood up. She reached out a hand and nudged Fitz. ‘Are you coming?’
Fitz looked back to Ophelia, who was stood rigid, her arms folded. Fitz surprised himself with how quickly he stood up to the spymaster’s authority. ‘Yeah, let’s go.’ They picked up their bags.
‘I wouldn’t advise this,’ Ophelia said sternly.
Azima stepped forward. ‘You said we were free to leave and so I’m leaving. I might be just a vlogger but you work in a place that’s falling down around you. You’re not exactly hi-tech and the government gave up on you a long time ago – look around you. You’re telling your stories to a bunch of kids because no one else will believe in you anymore. You’re the one who brought us here. We’re all you’ve got. So, if you want us to stay, start showing some respect.’
Harry looked at Ophelia and tilted his head. ‘She’s got a point, ma’am.’
Ophelia clenched her jaw, nodded and gestured for them to retake their seats.
‘While you’re respecting the kids,’ Fitz said, ‘I have a question: what the hell does all this have to do with Boyd?’
Ophelia started pacing again. ‘By the time Ravensbrook had invested in Hurricane, he had already tried and failed in his own similar experiments. He would take in homeless children, people that wouldn’t be missed by anyone...’
‘Oh my god!’ Fitz exclaimed.
‘Yes. Not such a cool bloke after all.’
‘Hang on, is he going to experiment on Boyd?’ Fitz’s voice nudged up an octave.
‘Not just yet.’
‘What does that mean? What does he need him for?’
‘From what Bishop told Harry, Ravensbrook had already experimented with several boys and girls by the time Operation Hurricane went up in flames but the closure of that project left him with a distinct advantage over the rest of his former friends in the Trinity Guild. He had a man there the night of the fire, you see. His clean-up man, who, in the confusion, gathered up as much of the materials and research as he could and brought them back here, to England.’
‘So if Ravensbrook has the research, he can build it all for himself. So surely he’s the one causing the power surges?’ Fitz asked.
‘He doesn’t have everything, and unfortunately, this is the reason why he was using Boyd as bait.’
‘Okay, I am really lost now – he was using Boyd as bait? Bait for what? What am I missing here?’
‘The man who brought back the materials for Ravensbrook was called Martin Spengler. He was a former British Soldier in the SAS and one of Ravensbrook’s most trusted soldiers.’
‘Martin? Boyd’s dad is missing and he’s called Martin?’ Fitz felt a sudden flush through his body, like he was going to be sick.
‘Yes, that’s right. The man you know as Boyd’s dad is Martin Spengler. But he didn’t just bring back a box of papers and some research materials. He brought back a lot more than that.’ Ophelia took a deep breath and stopped in front of Fitz. ‘Martin brought Erica’s diary and in it, she revealed that she had hidden her research. In fact, to keep it safe, she had hidden it within herself. So, Erica Adler has been running for her life for 15 years, never truly safe from anyone who knew about Operation Hurricane. But Ravensbrook never hunted her because he didn’t need to. Martin left the Bahamas with her baby son, Evan, who then became the fourth boy to live in Ravensbrook’s facility. You see, he’d already had a Boy A, Boy B and Boy C…’
‘Oh my god!’ Fitz leapt to his feet. ‘Evan became Boy D.’
‘Yes. After a few years of keeping him locked away, they decided to put him out in the open to see who would come looking for him. Karl, Erica, the Trinity Guild; they would all have reasons to try to find little Evan. So Ravensbrook gave him a normal life, a life with Martin as his father in a nice house in Bloomfield, never too far from the Lockmead estate. Hornet became his aunt and they simply changed Boy D to Boyd. But according to Bishop, Boyd is so much more than just bait. Ravensbrook has no idea who Boyd really is or what he’s capable of and we cannot risk him finding out. Whatever they did on Hurricane Island, whatever they created down there 15 years ago, Boyd is the key to everything.’
The Trinity Guild
As Octavius Ogilvy watched two gorillas drag a kid from a helicopter, he nervously tapped his leg with his fingers. He always did this when he was anxious; same fingers, same beat. Jasper Van Cleef looked at him, and then at his hand, letting the politician know that the noise was just about the most irritating thing he could imagine. Ogilvy didn’t stop the tapping; his stomach was doing somersaults at being dragged back into this horrendous business, so it was either tapping his fingers or running around the room screaming.
Just a few hours ago he’d been sitting in his office, safe in the knowledge that he was one of the most powerful men in the land. Now he was reminded that the real power did not reside in politics and was certainly not held by people front of cameras. It was tucked in the dark corners of this world, and held by people like Lord Ravensbrook; people who thought nothing of having two thugs trawl a half-conscious kid across the grass of Lockmead House under the nose of the Home Secretary.
‘I apologise you had to see that, gentlemen.’ The door opened and Lord Ravensbrook swept in.
Ogilvy turned away from
the window. He clearly wasn’t sorry; the whole event had been stage-managed so the people in the room could see it. Ravensbrook was a man who knew just how important he was and by letting them see the kid, he insisted that everyone else knew it too.
As a member of the government, Ogilvy felt like he had to say something, to do something. Not because he wanted to help anyone else but because he was scared to death of getting caught in the middle of this mess if it all went wrong. He would lose his job, or maybe even his money – god forbid, he could end up in jail – but for now he said nothing. He decided it was best to wait and see what this bunch of lunatics had up their sleeves and then he could decide if he was going to be a part of it again. It’s exactly what he had done 20 years ago when the Trinity Guild had first asked for his help; he had always been smart like that.
‘Mr Van Cleef,’ Ravensbrook said as he sat in his office chair, ‘I believe we have you to thank for bringing us all back together?’
‘It was hardly an act of nobility.’ Van Cleef smiled as he casually sat in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. ‘Each of us has got as far as we can alone; together, we are more powerful than we are apart, more powerful than any government.’ He shot a sideways glance at Ogilvy.
‘So, what makes you think Miranda is going to suddenly show herself now, after all these years?’ Lord Ravensbrook asked.
‘I don’t.’ Van Cleef let out a burst of laughter and shook his head, as if this was a preposterous suggestion. ‘That is not what I think at all.’
Ravensbrook sat forward, agitated. ‘So why have we altered the plan? Why have we brought the boy back in?’ Clearly he was unhappy being made a fool of at any time, but especially in his own office.
‘Because we don’t need her. Surely you can see what’s happening? The boy is the key, we now have everything we need.’
Ravensbrook flopped back into his chair and removed his glasses. He held them up, removed a handkerchief from his pocket and began to polish them.
‘The boy? And we had him right here, under our noses all along. Very well, I’ll get my people to start work immediately.’
Operation Hurricane: The Evan Boyd Adventures #1 Page 22
