‘Please, I insist…’ Hornet’s voice raised a notch.
‘You insist?’ Ravensbrook suddenly looked up at her, irritation in his voice. ‘Please don’t embarrass yourself, old friend. I’ve made my decision and it’s final. We need to get beneath that emotional armour he has created for himself. So you will show him to the room and leave him with Martin – that’s the way to give his young heart a little squeeze.’ He looked into the fire and smiled, the flames dancing in the black of his eyes.
He turned to Hornet, who was seething with anger. ‘Anyway, I need you to speak with the girl tomorrow and find out what she knows,’ he said, trying to soften the blow. He waved his hand to dismiss her.
Hornet stood and for a moment, looked like she was going to say something, but she couldn’t find the right words.
‘You’re angry, that’s good,’ Ravensbrook said to her. ‘You always do your best work when you’re angry. Twist that rage into something sharp, then use it on Skye. Do what you do best.’
Boy D
Boyd had lost all track of time. How long had he been back in this room? He had been replaying the events of the last week over in his mind and realised how everything was building towards a reckoning. And now, those same two words were going around and around in his head: ‘Welcome home.’
The minute he had set foot in the lounge across the hallway, he felt like he had been there before. Then when Ravensbrook had uttered those words, it just confirmed what Boyd had known to be true: this place, whatever it was, was where he had spent the first few years of his life; not in a children’s home, as his dad had always told him. But then, according to Ophelia, Martin wasn’t really his father, so who the hell was he and what was he to Boyd?
This was how his mind had worked for the last few hours as he pulled at threads and tried to see the truth behind the lies. Boyd had lain on the bed, paced the floor and done everything he could to let all of this wash over him now before they came for him again, because he couldn’t allow any of it to get in his way. Ravensbrook wanted Boyd confused; he wanted his mind clouded so that he didn’t know up from down, left from right. Ophelia had told him to be ready for it and he had to do his best to fight it off. So, as the door opened again, he pushed all the questions to the back of his mind and held onto one thing: if he wanted to find Skye and get the hell out of there, he had to stay smart.
Hornet gestured for Boyd to follow her. She led him a short way down the corridor, to a frosted-glass door that, unlike the rest of the facility, had no keypad next to it. Instead, mounted on the stark, silver wall next to the door handle was a sign that made him do a double-take and stop in his tracks. He swallowed hard; his eyes set on the black letters carved into the brushed metal while all around it blurred into insignificance.
The sign said, “Boy D”.
‘Everything alright, Boyd?’ Hornet smiled knowingly as she stood in front of the open door.
Boyd broke his gaze away and looked into her electric green eyes. ‘Fine.’
He walked past her and into the room. Like the room they had been keeping him in, the roof sloped down on one side, but this was bigger, much bigger. The walls were covered in posters, and he could see four screens set into the walls, all showing cartoons. There was a large bookshelf, sofas, chairs and several bean bags. One corner was set up like a bedroom, and an Iron Man bedspread was just about visible beneath a pile of soft toys. Boyd felt a sting in his eyes as the tears began to form. He knew his hands were shaking but he couldn’t do anything about it. He wouldn’t allow himself to look at Hornet; he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
Every glance at another part of the room was like being placed inside a living photograph, a faded memory. This was his room; this was where his life had begun and he felt as if he had walked out of it just moments ago. There was a small partition that cut off the last part of the room, with an archway shaped into the metal wall to whatever was beyond. A man in a polo shirt and jeans stepped through it.
‘Hello Boyd,’ Martin said with a small nod and a nervous twitch of a smile.
Boyd could see Hornet watching him intently and he could almost feel her desire for him to lose control. He allowed the sudden burst of heat he felt to evaporate like the steam from a kettle. Boyd settled his pale blue eyes on Martin for a long moment, then he looked away and walked to a small table with a jug of water and some glasses. He poured himself a water.
‘Either of you guys want one?’ he said casually, keeping his back to them.
‘No, thank you,’ Martin replied.
‘I’m fine,’ Hornet said, frustrated.
Boyd turned and took a sip of the water. He held his hand up and shook his head. ‘Sorry! Where are my manners? Allow me to propose a toast.’ He raised the glass. ‘To family.’
Hornet was carefully examining his every move. This had clearly been a ploy to lure some of the old Boyd to the surface by bringing him here, to this room and putting Martin in front of him, but Boyd couldn’t let her see if it had worked.
‘Well, you two have a good amount of catching up to do.’ She turned and walked back to the door. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
‘Thanks, Aurora,’ Boyd said with a mischievous grin.
Hornet stared at Boyd, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head. As she walked out of the door, it hissed shut and a click told Boyd that it was locked.
Boyd moved around to a sofa opposite Martin and sat down. He had no idea where to even begin with the man standing in front of him; the man he had called ‘dad’ for 10 years. They had never had a perfect relationship, it was true, but they had been the closest companions to one another. They had been on holidays, shared jokes; Martin had taught him how to rock climb, how to scuba dive, how to ride a bike, but Boyd still felt as if he had been cheated.
Martin lowered himself into the seat opposite him, slowly, as if asking permission. Boyd realised that despite having always been so distant, Martin had always made him feel safe and secure. He had taught him to take care of himself, not be afraid or care what anyone else thought of him, and to have confidence in himself; that was surely everything you could want from a parent. But what stood out the most was the shared a bond over the loss of Boyd’s mother, and now he had to ask himself how much of that was even true.
Not ready to face Martin yet, Boyd looked at the books on the shelf in the corner. He felt like he remembered some of them; he was sure he could recall running his hands over the spines and picking a book before jumping into bed. Was that real, or was it his mind playing a cruel trick on him? It was then he knew that the pain he had felt when he first stepped into the room was the agony of loss: not for his mother, not for his father, but for the innocent child that had lived in this room 10 years ago, for Boy D.
‘You don’t have to put on a show now. There aren’t any cameras in here.’
‘Right,’ Boyd nodded.
‘It’s true. Ravensbrook could never risk any record of what they do down here. Boyd, listen to me, I don’t imagine we have a lot of time. I’m not going to lie to you, you can ask me anything.’
‘Strange, that’s what His Lordship said. Caretaker.’
Martin bowed his head in shame. ‘Okay, I’ll prove that they’re not watching us or listening in.’
‘I’m all ears.’
‘You’re in a facility called the Barn, on the Lockmead estate. We’re underground in what they call “the Belly”. 15 years ago, I took you from your mother and brought you here because she created something that could shake the world to its core and Ravensbrook wanted it; it consumed him. You and I lived here for a few years but as you got older, it made sense for you to be out in the real world. You liked me. I used to visit you in here every day; you trusted me.’
‘I was five. Five-year-olds trust anyone with ice cream.’
‘But you were different.’
‘I was bait. It was my mother you wanted.’
‘That was true, at first, yes. I know I wasn’t exactly a great fath
er.’
‘Maybe the fact that you’re not actually my father had something to do with that?’
‘It wasn’t all down to me; you weren’t like other kids. You didn’t come to me when you had nightmares or sleep in my bed when you got sick; you never asked for help with homework. You just got on with everything, always on your own. You never needed anyone.’
‘Maybe I did, I just didn’t have anyone – there’s a difference, Martin.’
Martin stood up and dragged his hands through his hair. Boyd had never seen him like this; he had always been so cool and in control.
‘I wanted to be there for you, but I always had all of this hanging over me; I had a responsibility. I couldn’t get too close because they could take you away at any time. My job was to put you out there but keep you safe.’
Boyd clapped his hands. ‘Well, congratulations on that. You’ll be up for ‘Employee of the Month’ for this.’
‘You think this is what I wanted?’ Martin shouted, his face red. ‘I had no idea this was going to happen!’
Boyd stood and, without warning, all the emotion he had been keeping under the surface exploded. ‘What the hell did you think was going to happen? You lied to me my whole life! You were never on my side!’
Martin walked forward and grabbed Boyd’s hands. ‘You’re right, you’re so right. So let me make it better, let me change that.’
Boyd wrenched his hands away. ‘How? Look around you. I’m stuck here. They have me, they have everything they want.’
‘No, they don’t. Listen to me. I’m not all bad. I never was.’
‘You stole someone’s baby to use against them. That makes you a pretty crappy human being in my book.’
‘But I didn’t. You have to listen, Boyd.’
‘I am listening. You said, “I took you from your mother.” It couldn’t be much clearer. You’re a monster, just like the rest of them.’
Boyd turned away and fought back the tears once more. He desperately wanted to ask about his mother, this woman he had never met. Was she alive? Had she been looking for him? For all he knew, she was locked up next door. But he wasn’t going to ask Martin – he wanted the truth, he didn’t need any more lies.
‘I was sent to Hurricane Island by Ravensbrook as private security, to keep an eye on your mother. As soon as they realised that she was the talented one, they wanted to make sure she wasn’t doing anything she shouldn’t be. And yes, you’re right, when Operation Hurricane imploded, I took you from your mother. Erica Adler handed you to me. That was part of her plan all along.’
Boyd couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
‘She trusted me, and she knew that the best way to keep you safe was to put you with the people who wished her harm, and then disappear from your life forever. I wasn’t keeping you safe for them, Boyd, I was doing it for her.’
Getting into Position
The Barn was tucked away in the woods, on the outskirts of the Lockmead estate. Because it was SpeedFest week, the roads all around the Bloomfield Downs were jammed with spectators and racers making their way to the event. Every year His Lordship turned 900 acres of fields into a thrilling celebration of all things speed.
Ophelia and the Section X team had ensured they were in place long before the traffic started to build up. They had found a field surrounded by a thick hedge and tucked the van just inside the gate before the sun came up. Just to be safe, they had covered it with a thick layer of brambles and then Azima had checked to ensure it couldn’t be seen from the road. Now it was all about playing the waiting game.
Ophelia’s escape plan meant that they couldn’t hit the Barn until later in the afternoon, so whilst Fitz and Azima waited in the van with Ophelia, Harry was driving to his starting point near the Barn in a modified black car with oversized wheels. Barnaby had installed a full surveillance kit in the back of the van, with recording equipment and headsets for everyone so the team could speak to Harry and track him right up until the point he got past security at the Barn.
‘Harry, are you receiving? Over.’ Fitz spoke nervously into the microphone attached to his headset.
‘Yes, Fitz, I’m receiving you. Just as I was two minutes ago when you asked me.’ Harry had a small, skin-coloured bud in his ear that acted as a microphone and a speaker. He had a few other toys with him too, some of them classic tools of the spy trade that Barnaby had provided, along with some essential new inventions that Fitz had dreamt up. Harry knew that Fitz was nervous; they hadn’t had time to fully test everything and the whole mission rested on things going off without a hitch.
He guided the car along a tree-lined road that led up to the long driveway for the Barn, then pulled over and parked up in a break in the trees. He thought of Boyd, Skye and Arnold Bishop. From the information Bishop had given him, Harry knew he was walking into the nest of a particularly cruel and heartless snake. In all his years trading secrets and quietly halting the progress of his enemies, Harry had never known anyone as ruthless as Ravensbrook and the Trinity Guild. He had meant what he said to Skye when they first met in the theatre: Bishop didn’t trust him, they didn’t even like each other very much. But they were both old spies and that meant you lived by a code, doing anything and everything in the name of Queen and country.
When Harry had asked Bishop why he was betraying the Guild, Bishop had been clear: he could no longer stand by whilst evil flourished. He had been young when Operation Hurricane had started but as far as Bishop was concerned, when it all fell apart, it was a good thing. Once the Guild started to rise again, Bishop had decided to do everything he could to disrupt them. Now Harry was as certain as he could be that it had cost Bishop his life, and he wasn’t going to let Boyd and Skye pay the same price.
Skye had been secured to the bed with a strap across her forehead, another across her elbows and one more at her ankles. It was her own fault for breaking a guard’s nose. Then, when they had tried to sedate her, she had thrown the doctor against the wall and tried to escape. The latest development had been the threat of a gag if Skye didn’t stop singing. So, when the door opened, she presumed they were about to put a premature stop to her run-through of every track from Stormzy’s ‘Heavy Is The Head’, and she was only up to ‘Do Better’. What a shame!
When Skye flicked her eyes to the door, she couldn’t hide her surprise. Instead of a cautious guard, cattle prod in hand, she saw Hornet, unarmed and smiling like a reptile.
‘Don’t let me stop you, please.’
‘I didn’t have you down as a Stormzy kind of girl?’
‘No, I’m not, really, but I do so enjoy a dose of fake bravado. So please, you crack on.’
‘I tell you what, sweetheart. Why don’t you take these restraints off and we’ll see how real my bravado is?’
‘You know the biggest problem with you kids these days?’
‘Why don’t you enlighten me?’
‘You think that power is all about what you can do on your own. I blame social media – it rams all that self-help rubbish down your throats. What you fail to realise is that the people you’re idolising on there have a team behind them, telling them what to do every minute of every day, and you lot lap it up.’
‘Is that it? You done? Surely there’s so much more you can tell me about my wasteful generation?’
‘You’re being stupid, you know that?’
‘From you, I’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘I wouldn’t. You can break a nose, smash up your room – go ahead. You’re a single person fighting against a machine – you’ll never be believed, and you’ll never win.’
Skye let out a nervous laugh. ‘So, what? I should join you? Are you joking with me?’
‘Not at all. You’re a smart young woman. I actually have a lot of respect for you.’
‘A moment ago, you were calling me stupid.’
Hornet crept slowly around the bed and let a long silence hang in the air. Eventually, she stopped next to Skye’s head and started to st
roke her face. ‘I said you were “being stupid”; there’s a big difference. Your little project is over; we’ve taken your base of operations.’
‘I can do what I do from anywhere, and anyway, I’m not one person. They’ll come for me and when they do, you’re going to be the one with the broken nose.’
‘Section X? You think the Toy Department is coming for you? Oh, my dear, you really have no clue, do you? You can shout from the rooftops about power surges, time travel and Operation Hurricane and no one will listen. You’re just a conspiracy theorist. But we’re not your enemy, Skye, we’re not the government or the establishment. We are an underground force that the powers-that-be have tried to stamp out for centuries, trying to make a difference against the people at the top. Does that sound at all familiar? We’re just like you, and we’re on the cusp of something that you can’t even begin to fathom.’
Hornet grabbed both of Skye’s cheeks and stared into her eyes. ‘And I’m asking you to be a part of it because I was just like you once. So let me help you and we can find the truth together.’ She let go of Skye’s face and marched to the door. ‘I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, I really didn’t, but it rips me apart to see you fool yourself like this.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Skye said, her voice heavy with emotion.
‘They won’t come for you. They’ll come for him, yes, but they’ll leave you to your fate. They don’t care about you, Skye, you’ll see that. But I won’t ever leave you, I promise.’ Hornet opened the door and walked out.
Pick a Side
The door opened behind Boyd. Martin, who was sat directly facing it, stood up immediately.
‘I don’t know what more I can say. This is pointless,’ he said. ‘Call the guards. Let’s get him back to his room.’
Boyd furrowed his brow, confused at the change in Martin’s demeanour. Then he looked over his shoulder, saw Hornet and everything became clear.
‘What a shame,’ she said. ‘I think we’re going to have your friend, Skye, on our side before long. It’s a pity you can’t see sense. Guards!’
Operation Hurricane: The Evan Boyd Adventures #1 Page 25
