The Phoenix Series Box Set 2

by Ted Tayler

  “We are experts in what we do,” said Hermes, glancing at Nemesis, “we will take every precaution not to leave any clues. The numbers are unimportant. We have to remember their victims. As Zeus said, the guilty must pay for their crimes.”

  Nobody else felt strongly enough to object. Zeus relented. He stood and announced: -

  “The direct action against the names on the list is duly sanctioned.”

  Poseidon looked at the three leaders who had opposed him.

  “If you don’t have the stomach for the fight, perhaps you should consider your positions.”

  “Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me, Poseidon,” said Athena. “When tough decisions have to be made, I can make them.”

  Phoenix wondered why Athena hadn’t told Zeus and the other Olympians of the scheming behind the scenes carried out by the Titans. No doubt she had her reasons. He merely added: -

  “The best way to make the right decision, when confronted with a tough situation, is to have all the facts available, Poseidon, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Poseidon gave Phoenix a cold stare but passed no comment.

  Zeus was keen to bring the meeting to a close. He could see Hera getting agitated. She hated it when the leaders argued. She preferred everything to remain on an even keel.

  “We will meet in London again in three months from today,” he said. “Good afternoon everyone and a safe journey home.”

  “Amen to that,” said Phoenix.

  Aphrodite and Hera said their goodbyes, The Duchess then came over to Phoenix and Athena.

  “I was concerned at the haste with which that last item was dealt. Why did Zeus allow himself to be railroaded? Poseidon is generally so quiet. We were the only people to stand up to him.”

  “We have our concerns too, Aphrodite,” said Athena, “the black book is fast becoming a series. The likes of Poseidon, Demeter, and others are adding names that were never the subject of a Yewtree investigation.”

  “Why haven’t we been told this?” asked Aphrodite.

  The room had thinned out considerably. Only Apollo and Dionysus remained. They gathered around them.

  “Did you have concerns?” asked Dionysus, “we thought we were clear to proceed. We were all shown the scope of the operation during our meeting at Curzon Street.”

  Phoenix knew Athena couldn’t show their hand just yet. They might believe they knew who they were up against. Proving to the other leaders that four of their number were plotting to take the organisation on a different path would not be so easy.

  The majority of the leaders were still true to the Olympus cause. They might decide that as eight votes, in a fair fight, would always win the day, it was business as usual. The four dissenting, more strident voices could be brought into line.

  “Everything is not as it appears, Dionysus,” said Athena.

  “It never is, Athena,” said Apollo.

  “Do you have news of your own, Athena,” asked Aphrodite. “I can often sense things you know.”

  Athena sighed.

  “I’m expecting a baby in January. I didn’t think it showed in this outfit.”

  “How wonderful,” the Duchess said with a wistful look. “I often wish we had had more than just one child.”

  “Congratulations,” said Apollo and Dionysus. The five remaining leaders left the apartment together. They travelled to the ground floor in the lift. Rusty was stood inside the foyer waiting.

  “All clear, Phoenix,” he said.

  The others went off to their cars. Rusty led Phoenix and Athena to the van. Once safely inside, they drove back to Larcombe.

  “An uneventful trip,” said Phoenix, when they were back in their rooms, “if not an uneventful meeting. We’ll have to watch out for the first strikes on the ‘black book’ targets.”

  “We need to get Giles to start hacking into phones and computers belonging to the Titans,” said Athena. “We must know more of what they’re at. They’re poised to take action against Olympus as well as her targets. We must protect ourselves, Zeus and the others, as well as the innocent people they’ve added to their hit list.”

  “No time like the present,” said Phoenix. “Now Artemis has met me face-to-face it should be alright for me to visit the ice-house again. I’ll talk to Giles tonight. We must not delay. I want to hear where we are with tracking Thanatos.”

  Phoenix walked across to the nerve centre of the intelligence section. He took the lift to the first level and sought out Giles Burke. Artemis was on duty at a terminal on the far side of the room. She looked up and acknowledged his presence.

  “Giles, what have you got for us? Any news on Thanatos?”

  “Your timing is uncanny, Phoenix,” he replied, “one of my lads found him on CCTV footage. We know where he was twelve hours ago. Where he headed after that, who knows?”

  “Show me?” said Phoenix, sitting beside the chief intelligence agent.

  “This was our man at nine a.m. this morning. He had just left a convenience store on a garage forecourt near Tidworth. As you can tell, he’s carrying a backpack. Look at this image. When he lifts it up to slip his left arm through the strap.”

  “It’s heavy,” nodded Phoenix, “when we checked his room it appeared he left in a hurry and took very little. What has he got now and where did he get it? A handful of chocolate bars wouldn’t create that bulk.”

  Artemis joined them.

  “I may have discovered something. Thanatos was ex-SAS when he arrived here to join Olympus. He left school at sixteen and joined the regular army in 1974. There were several years before he went through the rigid selection process to join the elite regiment. As a young soldier, he was stationed on Salisbury Plain. He was at Bulford camp for three months. He had received training at the School of Ammunition at Kineton, Warwickshire.”

  “Training in what?” asked Phoenix.

  “Everything a boy should know about explosives,” said Giles.

  “Exactly,” said Artemis.

  “Good work,” said Phoenix, “so we’re thinking Thanatos made his way from Larcombe to Salisbury Plain. How did he get hold of any explosives? Or does the Army have a one-stop-shop for would-be terrorists these days? We had better start checking. There will be traffic between the Plain and the MoD reporting any shortages. Find it. We need to know what was taken. Our next task is to work out where he was heading after he left Tidworth. An educated guess, you two?”

  “London,” said Giles.

  “Given what you know of him, would he be acting alone?” asked Artemis.

  Phoenix considered their comments. London was the favourite. The Titans initial targets in the black book would be individual strikes. The methods might vary. None would include massive explosions. That was far too theatrical. They didn’t want to raise suspicions around Olympus. They might be planning to take control; they certainly didn’t want to risk losing access to the funds Olympus offered.

  No, this was an event intended to follow on from the removal of their opposition within Olympus. Something that rocked the country’s foundations to the core.

  CHAPTER 16

  Thursday, October 10th, 2013

  Chris Rathbone knew he was going to create headlines that allowed the Titans to grasp control. A blast that left a vacuum in the corridors of power they could attribute to any one of the extreme terrorist groups out there. With the democratic government crippled, the Titans would surface and step into the breach. A plutocracy would be established.

  There would be temporary resistance, of course, but the former Olympus agents would soon fall in line to help the armed forces bring order and control. There may be dissenters among them, but the vast majority were mercenaries at heart. They’ll work for the highest bidder.

  Chris Rathbone was on the outskirts of London. He travelled at night exclusively now. His handler had a safe house for him in Knightsbridge. ‘I’ll be holed up there until the next two phases of the coup are completed’ he thought. ‘Tonight, I’ll be indoor
s in the warm, instead of lying in a hide on this damp grass’.

  *****

  In the ice-house, Giles, Artemis, and the other members of the intelligence section were analysing data collected from the four Titans. Poseidon’s activity by phone or email was negligible. His home had been under surveillance since Phoenix returned from Nottingham. There was no sign he used handwritten letters to communicate with his colleagues.

  Hermes was a different kettle of fish. As CEO of a mobile phone giant, his activity was immense. It would take an awfully long time to sift through the grains of sand to find the nuggets of gold.

  “I’m noticing a trend here, Artemis,” said Giles, “there’s irregular and limited communication between Hermes and Demeter. Neither of them communicates directly with Poseidon. As for Nemesis, well she’s a recluse, so maybe it’s no surprise she doesn’t have a large digital footprint.”

  “Let’s look at this another way, Giles,” said Artemis, “we can eliminate eighty per cent of this paper trail if we stick to the personal calls he receives. His business line is unlikely to be used for the darker dealings in which he’s involved. Now let’s see where these personal calls are originating. There are a few repeat calls. OK, looking at that number, that’s Demeter’s phone. We can read what she was saying later. In the past month, there have been several one-off calls. Our system tells us they came from right across the UK. We need to list the locations in date order to see if it might tell us something.”

  “Good thinking; have you done something like this before in your police work?”

  “Funnily enough, Giles, yes I have,” said Artemis. “It was over three years ago. A series of murders coincided with the visit of a Canadian tribute band to a number of northern cities.”

  “Did you catch the killer?” asked Giles.

  “Sadly no, and I don’t think I ever will now,” replied Artemis. “Well, what do you know?”

  “Have you spotted a link already?”

  “This GPS data from the system pins the location tighter than just to a town or city. Each of the calls I’ve highlighted was made from inside or near a major theatre. It’s that concert tour being repeated. These are messages to Hermes from people who went to a concert that night. Honey B, his mother has just finished her UK tour. Why would these people be contacting Hermes during or after a show?”

  Giles read the first text message, sent from Belfast.

  “It doesn’t make sense. It rhymes, I suppose. What could it mean?”

  “It’s not poetry; might it be song lyrics?” said Artemis.

  Giles scanned the next few messages from different nights and different venues.

  “They’re all from the same song by the looks of it. But the words keep changing slightly.”

  “We’ll have to Google her hits.”

  It didn’t take long to find the song in question. Then Giles struggled with the variations and tried to make sense of what he was reading. Artemis listed the names of the callers and found they were employees of the mobile phone company run by Hermes.

  “Very clever,” said Giles, “they communicate by messages hidden in these lyrics. Hermes gets employees from outlets around the UK to attend his mother’s concerts. He probably pays for their tickets or slips them a bonus. They won’t ask why their boss wants to know. They just send him the lyrics his mother uses that night in her third number one hit. It appears at first glance she has very little contact with her son, and yet she can pass on news, or instructions in secret at will.”

  “We need to break the code quickly,” said Artemis. “What she told him, or asked him to do for her a few weeks ago is irrelevant now. Future messages will give us a head start on countering whatever action she has planned.”

  Giles asked one of the agents to check transcripts of messages between Demeter and Hermes from her personal mobile. He warned him they may be cryptic or coded. Giles left the agent to it while he returned to work with Artemis on decoding the song lyrics.

  It was going to be a hard day’s night as someone once said.

  *****

  Friday, October 11th, 2013

  Hermes and Nemesis had completed their first task. They sat in her sitting-room drinking tea. In the basement lay the body of Arthur Harman, seventy-two, former Worcestershire care-home manager. The police had investigated allegations in 1996 that Harman was responsible for abuse at children’s homes he had run in Worcester throughout the 1980s.

  Victims came forward to give evidence against him. Harman consistently denied any wrongdoing. He insisted his accusers were unreliable witnesses. They had spent their whole lives in institutions. Fantasising about their lives was a common method of escaping the harsh reality of their existence. Over the years the line between fantasy and fact had become blurred.

  After a year-long investigation, the CPS decided not to press charges. They saw no realistic chance of a successful prosecution. By 2010, Arthur Harman moved on from children’s homes to the care for the elderly. Rumours started circulating almost immediately. The police were slow to respond.

  A newspaper reporter dug around and discovered that since 1997, when the original case had been dropped, five former residents of the children’s homes Harman managed had committed suicide. This raised concerns at Olympus and Arthur Harman was one of the first names on the list.

  “He was a big man, wasn’t he?” said Hermes. “A twelve-pinter do you reckon?”

  “It’s unlikely,” said Nemesis, stroking one of her cats, “my guess is ten and a half.”

  “You’re the expert,” said Hermes. “Do you have many ideas for your next batch of paintings? I’m looking for something to go on the walls of my office.”

  “I’m hoping to sell three or four at auction next week. Look through those first and choose whichever ones you prefer. I can tell you the sitter’s name.”

  “We have several individuals to eliminate over the next few weeks. You are going to be busy with that brush.”

  “Who’s next?” asked Nemesis.

  “The comedian Lenny James; his routines are rather crude. Too blue for TV these days. He’s always telling the press he was conceived the night of the Queen’s coronation as if that’s a cause for celebration. He is fifty-nine. As old as most of his material. His best days were between 1979-1986. That was when his preference for teenage female fans was able to be given full rein. He’s been questioned and released on half-a-dozen occasions in the past three years. It’s believed there could have been as many as forty victims, but only two have come forward so far. It was the same story as with Harman. Everyone knew he was guilty, but nobody was prepared to run the risk of a jury siding with a face they had known and loved for years. The two women involved have both been ‘working girls’ since they met James. His lawyer said they were heroin addicts with nothing to look forward to but a slow, painful death. They hoped to earn a big payday by selling a sordid pack of lies to a red-top daily newspaper. Lenny James will get a letter saying ‘no further action will be taken’ in a few months and that will be another one slipping through the net.”

  “When do we do it?” asked Nemesis.

  “Are you busy tonight?” asked Hermes, checking his diary.

  “Not as far as I’m aware,” said Nemesis. “I’ll meet you outside the tunnel at ten o’clock.”

  Hermes finished his cup of tea.

  “Until tonight then,” said Hermes, standing up from his chair.

  “I’ll come with you. I need to check on Arthur.”

  Nemesis watched Hermes disappear through the door that led out to the courtyard next to his underground car park. How very thoughtful of the early Victorians to install these below stairs access tunnels for their workers.

  Very few mews house owners knew of their existence. Those that discovered them had them sealed. Or found they were too dangerous to use. Hers was in immaculate order. She made sure of that.

  She turned her attention to her guest.

  “Come now, Arthur, don’t keep a lad
y waiting. I feel an urge to paint something this weekend.”

  *****

  At Larcombe Manor, Phoenix and Athena reviewed the progress being made in the ice-house. The morning meeting had finished several hours ago.

  Alastor and Minos had been subdued. Ever since they discovered the extent of Thanatos’s betrayal, they had questioned themselves.

  “Why didn’t we spot something, Athena,” said Minos, when she told them the morning after he escaped.

  “He was always uncomfortable with the way things were after Erebus left,” said Alastor. “But he gave no clue he was prepared to do something so drastic.”

  “We worked here side by side for years and yet, we never suspected he could turn out to be a traitor,” said Minos, shaking his head.

  “We’ve intercepted the message from the Plain reporting the loss of six M112 blocks of C-4. Along with various wires, a timer, and the paraphernalia a bomb-maker needs. What on earth does our ex-colleague have planned?” said Alastor.

  Athena tried to reassure them. She stressed that the past was the past; it was the future that mattered. She needed their help and support over the coming weeks to combat the evils the Titans planned to unleash on an unsuspecting nation.

  This morning, although they had been quieter than she wished, they grasped the importance of the work being carried out in the underground nerve centre. Giles had managed to decode the messages with the help of Artemis.

  “It was to do with the substitutions of course,” Giles reported. “As soon as we isolated the words that differed from the original lyrics, we had a new phrase. In each message, Honey B embedded a phrase of between five and nine words.”

  “Simple then,” Phoenix said, “so what were the phrases?”

  “Ah, but that was only the start, Phoenix,” said Giles, with a grin, “the new phrase was a cryptic clue. Similar to the ones you receive from Zeus, when he passes you a venue and an agenda, Athena. We then had to solve the clue before we could understand what she was telling Hermes; or what she wanted him to do.”