Ministry Protocol: Thrilling Tales of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences
Page 25
*****
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Bernard muttered, staring at the building down the road where Richard Henry’s device was contained. Whoever was inside had certainly noticed him—he made no particular effort to hide, not that there was much he could have done on with the sandy scrub and nearly full moon in a cloudless sky overhead. For their part, their light discipline was terribly shoddy, and he kept seeing dark shapes crossing in front of the windows. Had he been a marksman, things might have been very different, but he wasn’t, and so this would be resolved another way.
A loud hum began emanating from the building, the vibration strong enough that it was starting to make his teeth hurt. Evidently they were making ready to use the device, which meant it was time to put Arthur’s plan in motion.
Bernard raised his pistol and fired at the ground floor windows. His shooting skills were a bit rusty, so he was pleasantly surprised to find that all three shots struck home, shattering glass and eliciting distant shouts of surprise from within.
“I don’t suppose you’d consider surrender?” Bernard shouted, still annoyed that he was forced to use a pistol for this stage of the plan but seeing it through regardless.
“Imperialist dog!” The speaker was trying for furious outrage but an edge of panic ruined the effect. “We’ve been waiting for you! You’re about to witness our moment of triumph!”
“Well, I daresay that’s a problem right there,” Bernard said, taking a lazy shot at the sill where a head was slowly poking up and sending it back out of sight. “Never wait for your enemy to start going about your business, old son. Just gives them time to manoeuvre. You should’ve taken care of things while we were meeting with poor Richard.”
“You’ll pay for what you’ve done, you royalist swine!”
Bernard winced at the melodramatic retort, absently wondering if they had stolen more than just their penchant for poison pills from the penny dreadfuls. He allowed himself the consolation of replying with another bullet, sending the silhouettes away from the windows again.
Bernard fired his remaining shot just to discourage anyone from sticking their head up for a moment, and pulled out the bulky canister that Arthur had given him. Supposedly all he had to do was shake the contents and throw it; that seemed a bit simple for Bernard, but then, he wasn’t the expert in such matters. Arthur might just be an archivist and not a full Ministry scientist yet, but he was as close as Bernard was going to get in these circumstances. So he shook it twice, hearing the rattling of the metal and the shifting of the powder, and threw it as hard as he could.
The canister hit the side of the building and exploded with a loud cracking bang, pushing back the darkness with a bright flash and coating the wall with flame. Bernard stepped back and reloaded his revolver as smoke billowed from the point of impact. He could hear shouting from inside the structure as the flames spread; it certainly seemed as though Arthur knew his stuff. Research and Development might soon have a new addition after all. Bernard’s portion of the plan was just about concluded, save for rounding up the members fleeing the burning building.
After a minute passed, however, and then another, with still no break in the humming sound of the device or the emergence of any of the society members, Bernard grew concerned. Why weren’t they trying to escape? Perhaps they were trying to complete their work on the device, but there was also the chance that these rapscallions were eager to martyr themselves as Richard had and relishing the thought of leaving charred remains behind. Idly, Bernard wondered if the device was even vulnerable to fire, or if burning it might have some catastrophic effect, but supposed it was too late now.
Another long moment passed, the whole side of the building and part of the roof now on fire.
Bernard let out a long sigh as the front door of the manor suddenly flew open, loosing a veritable pillar of smoke in the process, and coughing, ash-covered men, all of them staggering to safety before collapsing on the sandy ground. A half dozen of them, apparently well-dressed before the fire ruined their clothes. Bernard walked over and pulled the nearest of them away from the fire, keeping the rest of the group covered with his revolver all the while. The building burned merrily, but it was not until the roof collapsed a bit later that the hum finally stopped.
Around the same time, a shivering, bedraggled Arthur walked up from the direction of the surf. He surveyed the prisoners, now ringed in a sullen half-circle as they watched their ambitions drift away on the smoke, his teeth chattering so loudly it sounded like dice clattering inside a cup. “D-D-Did we stop it?” he asked.
“Judging by the state of things here?” Bernard removed his topcoat and suit jacket, and placed them around the young man’s shoulders. “I’d certainly say so.”
“A-A-Are you s-s-sure? I’m s-s-soaked. D-D-Damn b-boat cuh-cuh-capsized on me.”
“Of course,” Bernard said, casually pointing his pistol at a man attempting to scoot a few more feet away. He left it pointed until the conspirator sulkily moved back to his original spot. “Just look at the place. No, keep it on. Jacket’s already ruined anyway. Might as well ensure you are not ruined either.” The agent gave the young researcher the barest of nods, and yet Arthur felt as though he had been granted a tremendous sort of honour along with the suit jacket.
“So what happens now?” Arthur asked, letting the heat of the blaze wash over him.
“I expect the local authorities are already on their way, so it will be time for me to use the identification the Ministry arranged just to smooth things over a bit, put this lot in custody, and arrange for proper transportation back to Britain. I expect this lot have an interesting trial in their future.”
“I see,” Arthur said. A long moment passed as they watched another timber collapse into the inferno. “You weren’t supposed to burn the building down, you know.”
“Oh, I do.” Bernard replied, a pleasant, slightly faraway smile on his face, the blaze reflecting on his spectacles so that it looked as though his eyes were aflame.
“Yes, well, that device I gave you? I designed it to be a smoke bomb for misdirection while I rowed out to deliver the counter-insulator to the cables. In a matter of moments the device would have been useless anyway, without further property damage.”
“Oh, I know. And you did instruct me not to throw it at the building directly.” Bernard shrugged. “I decided we needed a contingency.”
“And your contingency is to burn down the whole building? Device inside?”
“The world is better without that monstrosity in it,” the agent answered.
Arthur didn’t protest. Bernard chose to omit his suspicion a search of Richard’s house might provide plenty of material to reconstruct one. That would be for his higher-ups to determine.
“I see.” Arthur heard a whistle, turned and saw a party of men bearing lanterns heading their way from back in the direction of town. The two Ministry agents waved cheerfully. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Agent Entwhistle.”
“You too, Mr Kraft.” Bernard furrowed his brows, clearly thinking something over. “Oh, and regarding that application you mentioned before? I think I’ll be putting in a word when I return. I do believe you might be put to better use closer to the home office. We could always use more men with your eye for detail and quick hands in the lab.” He cracked the barest of smiles. “Or a new strong back for the office rowing team, at least.”
“The home office? Are you serious?” Arthur’s eyes went wide with almost childlike surprise. “Of course. I’d be delighted!”
“Good,” said Bernard, removing his identification from his pocket. He glanced over his shoulder as the far wall pitched forward into the flames, sending a shower of sparks skyward. “Because it would be delightful working together, and…” His sentence was punctuated by a roar as the last of the building collapsed behind them. Yes, Doctor Sound would have a few words with him about clandestine operations overseas. “… and I have a feeling I may not be leaving B
ritain again for some time.”