by Tony Lavely
One of Jamse’s team, apprentice to Amy and Beth
(Hoarse voice)
threaten Beckie in Coronado; one of Boufel’s men
(Soft voice)
threaten Beckie in Coronado; one of Boufel’s men
Dylan Rees
Amy’s lover
Else Meyer
One of Jamse’s team, a boffin who handles IT and the like
Bill
One of Else’s staff, personal electronics
Eduard Wilmsted
New team member
Doctor Herbert Smythe (Jones)
Archeologist; hired Ian Jamse to protect his dig
Amir Khan
A Pakistani war-lord trying to prevent Smythe’s work
Karem Rezaei
A Pakistani war-lord trying to prevent Smythe’s work
Doctor Chouj Khalid
Smythe’s on the ground chief
Derek Hamilton
One of Jamse’s team
(robed woman)
Amir Khan’s household
Mohammad
Captures Beckie for Al-Shazar, later asks for her help
(three Pakistanis)
Grab Beckie with Mohammad
Patrice
Pilot; one of Jamse’s team
Sam Dabron
One of Jamse’s team; on assignment in Syria
Ben
One of Jamse’s team; assigned to Sam’s group
Gillian
One of Jamse’s team; assigned to Sam’s group
Karen
Pilot; one of Jamse’s team; Freddy’s wife
Solène Dalila
Rescued 15 YO daughter of Sheikh Dalila
Kerry
One of Jamse’s team
(acolyte)
Peillon church
(four guards)
(two guards)
(three guards)
Inspector Blaise Pascal
French policeman, from Nice
Maitre de, Cafe de Paris
Abdul-Salam Bakir
Sheikh from Syria, seeking revenge on Beckie
Alain Roux
Gendarme in Nice, France
Angel Sabrina
Ralf’s wet nurse, Ethian’s mom
Chelsie
US alphabet agency manager
Janni Meyer
One of Jamse’s team; airport manager, Else’s partner
Elena Rios
One of Jamse’s team
Rafelo
San Diego policeman; Elena’s friend
(two hostiles)
Dinesh
One of Khan’s men
Also
Trillian
Jamse’s ocelot
Acknowledgments
Great thanks to my wife and family for their support!
My thanks and appreciation to K. Kris Hirst, for allowing me to excerpt her article on the “Dancing Girl.”
Thanks to Amy Rose Davis, one of the Twelve Worlds contributors, who graciously lent her name to Amy Rose Ardan. I hope she’s not dismayed with the way her namesake character turned out. Find her excellent work at http://www.amazon.com/Amy-Rose-Davis/e/B004GG38AI/
Also, thanks are certainly due my beta readers Carol and Phil. Without their efforts, I can’t imagine the problems this story would have.
Like all budget constrained authors, I draw heavily on Google Earth for scenes set in lands not local to me. Any failures in the fictionalization of these scenes are mine.
About the Author
Tony Lavely lives with his lovely, compassionate wife in Massachusetts, in reasonable proximity to their children and grandchildren. Retirement has provided ample time for him to pursue writing as well as other mundane pleasures. Discoveries is his fifth novel. Like the other Mercenaries stories, it is a thriller in an approximation to the real world.
He was privileged to be a part of the Twelve Worlds Anthology for Charity, still available at on-line outlets. This collection of short stories benefits Reading Is Fundamental, and meeting (in an on-linely way) the other authors was great fun and excellent experience. Those guys are great! (‘Guys’ used in the best The Electric Company tradition: “Hey, you guys!”)
The Mercenaries series has grown to five volumes with the release of Discoveries. Coming up next is Mark My Dance Card (working title), with a few thousand words written. At present, it seems likely that at least one more volume will follow; several characters are demanding their stories be told.
He reads fantasy and adventure, confidently believes that The Muppet Movie is one of the best movies ever made, and his iPod playlist includes works from Beethoven to Twisted Sister.
He blogs at tony’s miscellanea.
On Twitter: twitter.com/tlavely
Email: atl.for.writing at gmail.com.
If you find a typo in this book and report it with this number (K160608.3), you will earn Tony’s thanks and a coupon for any of Tony’s books.
If you need help paying for your reading, the author will provide a copy of Coda? free in your choice of format (mobi, epub or PDF) on receipt of a request accompanied by a 50-75 word essay on a related subject. Send the request from an email address which can accept the return file.
Coming Soon: Mark My Dance Card
Later in 2016, the next in the Mercenaries Series will be released. The working title is Mark My Dance Card, and the action follows immediately on the end of Discoveries. Watch my Twitter or follow my blog to receive news on its progress.
The following includes the Description, and then the first few thousand words of the story.
Description
Near Canterbury, England, Wendell Tate’s mother dies. Wendell’s reaction is disbelief; she wasn’t sick! Railing against the Establishment had little effect, so he planned more direct protests.
Beckie and Ian field a request to help Belinda out of an unintended encounter with Wendell at just the time Amy asks for an assignment that she hopes will clarify her feelings for Dylan and the job—Abby’s legacy.
Amy’s problems don’t interest Wendell; he’s focused on punishing the NHS for his mom’s death. Amy’s initial success leads her deeper into the plot where big risks vie with new friends to make her worthy of Beckie’s approval and resolve her personal relationship issues.
Mark My Dance Card is a romantic political thriller dealing with conservative world-views in an approximation to the real world. It is intended for 15 up; it includes real language.
Mark My Dance Card
Chapter One
It’s Nothing
Clive Burton took the lead, striding ahead of Belinda Blanchet, his fellow student, his inamorata and soon, he hoped, his fiancée. This was not the time to think of her willowy figure, her lush lips or taut breasts; in his haste to get away, thoughts like those were swept away by the fear he had ruined it all. For both of them.
Lin, as she preferred to be called, kept pace, wondering just what Clive had gotten himself into this time. He wasn’t as adept at subterfuge as others she knew, nor even as adept as herself. That thought came with a slight grin; she wasn’t breathing hard, yet, at least. But not knowing what he’d done to deserve this, that bothered her.
“Clive,” she called. “Clive. Clive!” When he slowed to cast a glance back the ten feet she trailed him by, she said, “The Golden Rooster’s just ahead on the left. Let’s find out what’s bein’ binned, right?”
His face hadn’t smoothed at all, but he huffed a heavy breath and nodded, then turned and in five more paces, slipped through the door. Kinda like a wisp of smoke, she thought. And smoke is what the pub smelled like, though cigarettes had been banned for a decade or more. Still, she thought as she peered through the gloom for Clive’s brown leather jacket, the beer is good.
Ah, there he is.
Standing at the bar, he was just picking up two pints. Lin hoped one was for her. She wended her way to an empty table against the wall, far enough from others… if they kept their voices down. With a wave, she c
aught his eye and once he’d paid the barman, he made his way over.
While she sipped her Guinness, Clive drank off over a quarter of his glass in one go, finishing with a deep breath and wiping his mouth after the glass rested safely on the table.
“Right, then. Will you tell me what’s on?”
He dragged his head up from staring into the beer. “I fecked up, Lin. That’s all there is to it. Now I got to try and make it right, yeah?”
“Make what right, Clive? And why’d you grab me?”
“‘Cause they’ll be after you, too. Look…” But he stopped and swigged his beer again.
Lin was finished with listening to him drink without explanation. “No, you look! Put the beer down and tell me what’s about. Or I walk out that door—”
“No!”
Lin noticed the questioning glances and a few glares among the other patrons.
“If you… If we get separated, it’ll be easy for them. Don’t you see?”
She grabbed his hand before he could reach his glass. “No,” she said in a low, menacing snarl, “I don’t bloody see! What’s going on? Last chance.”
“I fecked up, love. That’s all. I simply, purely fecked up.”
“D’you honestly think I’ve not figured that out already? What did you do? And how’s it involve me?”
This time, she didn’t stop him drinking. When the glass was empty, he said, “It’s hard, Lin. Lemme go to the Gents, then I’ll spill it.”
“One minute.” She dropped her phone on the table.
In sixty-one seconds he dropped onto the chair. “Well. I got caught in the Tube this morning and some guys were talking shit about an attack on some place. Just when I heard ‘Windsor’ one of them noticed me.”
“No one looked at you before?” Lin found this hard to credit; Clive’s appearance was at the least, notable: six-one, eleven stone thin, with a shock of blond hair currently died orange, tending toward red as his accommodation to her horrified look when she’d first seen it—she was almost used to it now, two weeks later. He would dye it again next week if he kept to the schedule. Blue was up next. Though if this turned out nasty, might be time for a sedate mousey brown. The moment passed instantly; this was not the time for that!
“Well, I did have me hat on.”
“Oh, right,” she scoffed. “Leave that. You think they’re after you? ’Cause you heard them blathering about? Com’on, Clive, tell me what’s really got your knickers in a twist.”
She sipped her beer, waiting for him to respond. While the story he’d begun to spin was too… Too she didn’t know what, Clive was obviously terrified. His eyes snapped from the door to the bar to other patrons before lighting on her, then starting the trip again. His face was haunted, and he shrank further every time she heard the pub’s door open.
She drank her last swallow and stood. “Let’s get out of here. Find some place where you’re not worried the Flying Squad’s coming through the doorway.”
He sat for a few more seconds, examining the others before he stood and headed toward the back door.
“That’s a treat. Didn’t even know this was here.” She wrinkled her nose at the cacophony of odors in the alley. “Guess I know why, too.”
At the head of the alley, she flagged a taxi. When Clive resisted, she dragged him. “This guy just came round the corner. I can’t believe he’s just been waiting for me to step out and wave. Get in!”
He resisted, but ineffectually. In seconds, Lin said to the driver, “St. Pancras, if you don’t mind.”
“Quick getaway, then?”
“What!” Couldn’t have given it away; Clive’ll—
“‘opping the Eurostar to France, right? Quick ’oliday?”
She hoped her sigh of relief wasn’t too loud, though Clive’s look… “Right. Back in a tick. Thanks.”
In a moment, she’d confirmed that her purse had enough cash and her credit cards and ID were safe. She turned to Clive, sitting still and with a look of confusion on his face, when he wasn’t gaping out the window looking for Lin didn’t know what. “Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah… Maybe…” His head was tipping back and forth, not much, just enough to be noticeable. “I don’ know, Lin. Where the feck are we headed, anyway? Not France?”
“Yeah. We’ll spend a couple days with Kate and her mate. Since I think you’ve just gone off the rails… Well, it’ll be a nice couple of days holiday.”
He’d dug out his wallet and was checking its contents. She grinned a tight little grin and used her phone to book two seats on the 17:04 train to Brussels. Return. She was sure whatever had happened, Clive had over-dramatized it. I hope, she said to herself, but he believes it.
Clive stuffed his wallet away and stopped staring out the window long enough to say, “Thanks, love.”
The cabbie dropped them at the station and vanished into the traffic on Pancras Road. Clive finally seemed to be taking the lead; he headed through the glass doors in the faded orange brick facade.
As Lin surveyed the entry hall, she said, “Find the Lille-Brussels train, right?”
“Thought you said Paris?” He looked around. “Brussels is this way.”
“Paris was for the guy in the cab. In case you’re right.” She gave him a smile and a little tweak of the cheek.
“Maybe you do believe me, eh.”
She giggled just a little and grabbed his arm to her. “No. But I believe you’re scared of something and… I don’t know.” She shrugged away and headed to the kiosk to retrieve their tickets. “In the train, you will tell me what’s going on.”
He nodded, more somberly than she expected.
Half an hour later, they were tucked into what Eurostar called an intimate pair of seats a little way from the bar car.
Clive wiggled to settle himself, then leaned so his head was close to Lin’s. As he did, she said, “If you’re anything like right, we can hunker down at my sister’s place.”
“Your sister? She’s at that university, right? With her mate?”
“Yeah. Kate’ll let us use one of their rooms. Now, tell me why I’m sitting here on the rocket train, eh?”
“Right. Like I said, these guys were talking about a bomb. Really quiet, so I only got some of the words. But I did hear Windsor Castle, or something sounded like that.”
“And then they saw you?”
“Right. The first one, he didn’t know me but the second one, he’s in one of my classes, and I could see he recognized me. So I bolted.”
“I guess that makes sense—”
“And I got out of the Tube and ran to find you.”
“Why that?”
“The one knew me, knows both of us together. I was afraid if he couldn’t find me, you know, he’d look for you.”
Lin nodded. He wasn’t sure it was more than resigned, but she’d calmed from before. He took his own deep breath. “I oughta be a little smarter, I guess. But nothing goes the way I think it will. Not sure if I’m all the way to blame for that.”
“You’re not. You’re responsible for thinking things through, setting your expectations reasonably.” She snuggled under his arm. “You’re not perfect… yet, but you’re okay.”
He leaned down to kiss her hair, then leaned back in the seat and cogitated.
After a minute or so of going over the five second memory, he heaved another sigh, then said, “Listen a mo. I agree that Windsor seems like a really stupid thing to attack, but the look he gave me… really scary, Lin.”
“Angry? Or scared? Or—”
“Like he was confused at first, then when we made eye contact, angry, but maybe cause they were talking, you know. But when George saw me, then the guy who’d been talking before got all happy and kind of devious looking in his eyes. You know what I mean?”
“Kinda. Still seems really daft, you know?”
“At the fecking least! But it wasn’t to take a chance on.”
She nodded against his chest. “If it wasn’t Windsor, wha
t could it’ve been?”
“I don’t know, love. Gotta be thousands of places to leave a… “ He lowered his voice even more. “… bomb to do some damage. Or to kill people. If they’re after the Royals, well, I don’t know…” He paused to scratch along his jaw. “… I don’t think there’s any place they gather, you know. Except for a celebration, or remembrance.”
“Maybe they don’t know that?”
“Or they’re going for a different target. Fecked if I know, love.”
“Yeah. Why go for the Royals, anyway? It’s not like they have any real authority. It’d just send em off, wouldn’t it?”
The train rushed out of the tunnel through Calais into France. Late afternoon sunshine lit the fields; Clive enjoyed the sight for a second, until his phone buzzed.
As he reached for it, Lin grabbed his arm. “You want to answer it?”
He looked at the screen and shook his head. “Don’t recognize the number.”
He sat still, gripping the phone while Lin hadn’t let go his arm. In a few more seconds, the phone chirped and displayed ‘one new voice mail.’
“Does it tell when the voice mail’s been heard? Like when a text is delivered?”
“Don’t know, but I can stop it for now anyway.” He put the phone in Airplane mode. “Won’t talk to anything now.”
“Good.”
The phone was replaying the voice mail. “Clive, It’s George, from Eco 1105 and the Tube this morning. Look, you gotta call me about that. Nothin’s going on, but give me a call straight away. This number’s good. Cheers, mate.”
