The Anomaly (Scarrett & Kramer Book 2)

by Neil Carstairs

  “What are they?” Lizzie asked.

  “Crows,” Moira said, spreading her arms as the birds swept down on them. But not just any old crows. Like the wolves, these birds seemed to come from another time and place. Wingspans as wide as the twins were tall. Beaks as sharp as a razor’s edge. Feathers as black as the darkest winter night. The birds bawled and cried a welcome as Moira danced in delight.

  “They’re here,” Moira shouted at the sky. “They are here, and we will destroy them.”

  ***

  “Time to take a break,” Kramer said as Ben saw Emily stumble a little over the thick tufts of grass that lay across their route. Kramer guided the girl to a flat piece of stone and told her to sit. Ben’s legs told him in no uncertain terms how relieved they were to take a break. Despite Ben thinking the pace would be gentle with Emily leading the group, the three professional soldiers had set a pretty punishing pace for the first few hours. None of them seemed to appreciate the fact that a ten-year-old girl was in their party, not to mention an out of condition intelligence analyst who was beginning to wish he’d never heard of Joanne Kramer.

  As Ben contemplated sitting down with the thought he might never get up again, Geordie said to him, “Your turn for lookout. Up on that rock is the best place.”

  Ben said nothing, deciding that Geordie wanted him to complain. Well, as much as Ben wanted to scream he also wanted to beat the Brits at their own game. So, without any comment, Ben started around the granite block and found a series of weathered ridges that allowed him to climb to the summit in relative ease despite carrying his pack and rifle. Once on top, he eased the Bergen from his shoulders and sat down in relief. Without looking around, he dug into his pack and pulled out an energy bar and a flask of water. Once he’d made a start on both of those, he decided that he should do the lookout part of his duties and took in a three-sixty degree view of the land around them.

  He hadn’t thought about it whilst walking, but he now realised they must be in another different world. The woodland they’d walked through when they first left their own world wasn’t in sight, and the rock he sat on gave him a clear view for miles in the direction they’d travelled from. The air temperature had dropped a few degrees, only noticeable now he was no longer walking and generating heat. Folds of land caused by streams running off the high ground to his right made the place an easy spot for an ambush. Where the wind and rain had washed topsoil away, the exposed rock gave the impression of giant mushrooms pushing up from the earth.

  Ben glanced down. Emily rested against Kramer and looked about ready for a bedtime story. Geordie and Tiny had a small stove running to heat some rations. As Ben watched, Geordie took a mess tin over to Emily and made the girl eat. Ben yawned. He took another look around. Above the high ground, he could see birds wheeling in the air as they tracked large figure-of-eight patterns. As Ben studied them, they seemed to come closer, separating into individuals as the flock expanded in both breadth and height. They seemed pretty big, even from this distance, and Ben knew that anything that looked big from afar usually looked even bigger up close.

  He whistled and Geordie looked up. Ben pointed. Geordie studied the flock and nodded. Ben kept an eye on the birds as Geordie pulled out a set of field glasses. He focussed them on the flock for a moment.

  “What d’you think?” Ben called down.

  “They look like ravens,” Geordie said. “But I’m no fu...I’m no twitcher so who knows.”

  “They look big,” Ben said.

  “Yup.” Geordie took another look. “And there’s lots of them.”

  “And they’re getting closer,” Ben said.

  Geordie glared up at him. “Tell me something useful. Like you’ve just seen a McDonalds or whatever. Just don’t keep stating the bleeding obvious.”

  “Jesus,” Ben whispered. He pushed himself to his feet and rubbed at his calves. The birds came closer with every passing second. Ben could hear them now, raucous cries that split the air. The sound unnerved him, making the hackles on the back of his neck rise. It must have done something similar down below because Tiny turned the stove off and tipped away uneaten food. The two Brits dumped their packs against the rock Ben stood on and separated. Kramer moved Emily into a fold of land where an upright lump of granite formed a natural shield. Ben shouted down, “Still want me up here?”

  “Too exposed,” Geordie said. “Get your Yankee arse down here and give us some cover.”

  Ben slid the Bergen down first, following it on his backside with heels scraping on rock, the buttstock of his rifle banging alongside him. By the time he reached the others, the birds were close to being overhead, and Ben’s earlier concerns about size were well and truly justified. He’d never seen anything this big this close. Even eagles or ospreys didn’t look this threatening.

  “Scarrett,” Kramer shouted to get his attention. “Over there. You, me and Geordie will form a screen around Emily. Tiny will be with her. Hopefully, his size will make the birds cautious.”

  “There’s too many,” Ben said, raising his voice above the cacophony.

  “Thirty or so.” Kramer seemed unnaturally calm. “Switch to single shot, pick your target and make it count.”

  Ben hunted down the fire selector on the assault rifle and set it as instructed. He went down on one knee as Geordie and Kramer began shooting. Ravens fell, wings folding back as rounds punched feathers out from head and chest. The others rose in fright, now only just above twenty. Geordie shouted something about a shooting gallery in the moment before three of the giant avians dived at him. He ducked and rolled. Ben heard swearing and would have laughed if the birds weren’t coming straight for him with wings swept back and beaks extended like rapiers.

  Ben fired and missed. He had a split second to adjust, fired again and blew the head off the lead bird as Kramer shot from his right and turned the second one into a rolling mass of feathers. The third climbed and Ben tracked it directly over his head, and when its body filled his vision, he put a bullet through it. The bird hit the ground hard, guts spilling onto the grass.

  The air became a blizzard of giant black ravens. Birds swooped between them and made shooting an impossible task. Ben didn’t want to hit the others with friendly fire. He ran to the rock he’d climbed on and used it as protection. Picking off what ravens he could as they lashed out with beak and claw. He heard screaming and saw a raven hit Tiny full on. The soldier fell back across Emily, trapping her. As Tiny struggled to hold off a slashing beak, other birds dived in, and man and girl disappeared beneath a dark blanket.

  ***

  Kramer began to think they might get out of this unscathed when the sky seemed to clear for a moment. The vile sound of screaming birds still filled her ears, but the view of a cloud-flecked sky not filled with the nightmare silhouettes of the ravens filled her with hope.

  Until she heard Emily’s piercing scream split the air.

  Oh, Jesus.

  Kramer took a step in the girl’s direction when something hit her hard in the back. A knife of pain drove deep into her body. The grass leapt up to meet her, and for a moment the world went black. Kramer woke as a line of fire swept across the back of her neck. Claws scrabbled for purchase on her shoulders.

  Not again.

  The memory of the desert world and its monstrous sandstorm flashed through her mind. She took a breath, her vision all stalks of grass and heather. She’d dropped her rifle and couldn’t reach her pistol, but the combat knife lay close to hand and she whipped it out. The bird jumped in surprise as its prey retaliated. The blade tore a couple of dozen feathers from its body. As the raven tried to take to the air, Kramer lashed at it again, taking a segment of flesh from the underside of its left wing. The bird screamed in pain and landed on stumpy legs.

  “Who’s in charge now?” Kramer snarled, she flipped the knife from left to right hand and lashed at it. The bird tumbled back, blood spraying from its throat. Kramer followed up with a kick that separated the head from the body in
a surge of hot liquid.

  Kramer spun, still hearing Emily crying for help. Tiny had been engulfed. Kramer saw his limbs kick and punch as the attackers lashed at him. She ran, grabbed a wing and hacked it half-off in one sweep of the knife. The next one she killed with a stab through the back of the neck. A third sensed her, turned and had its throat cut. Tiny broke the neck of a fourth and the others rose in panic, powerful wings beating Kramer to the ground as they took flight. Three more fell to gunfire, and she saw Scarrett killing them as Geordie ran towards her. The Brit pushed her aside and hauled Tiny to his feet.

  “You okay?” Geordie asked.

  “Just about.” Lacerations crisscrossed Tiny’s face and his hands wept streams of blood.

  Geordie pulled Emily out of the lee of the rock. “How about you?”

  She clung to him. Geordie looked like he wanted to give her a shake but he held himself and said, in as gentle a voice as he could manage, “Emily? Are you hurt?”

  “Squashed,” she said, her voice muffled where she pressed against the soldier. “But the birds didn’t touch me. Tiny protected me.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s big enough to do that,” Geordie said. He looked at his friend. “I’ll get the first-aid kit.” And to Kramer, he said, “You hurt?”

  A line of heat still throbbed at the back of her neck. When Kramer touched it her fingers came away smeared with blood.

  Geordie beckoned to Ben.

  “Your girlfriend needs some TLC,” he said. “You do that while I try to rescue Dan’s good looks. Emily? Can you keep an eye on the birds? If they look like they’re coming back down, scream, okay? Not too loud mind, because I don’t want you scaring us.”

  Emily managed a smile. “Okay.”

  Kramer sat on a nearby boulder as Ben cleaned her wound and dressed it.

  “Another scar to add to the list,” Ben said.

  “Yeah, and you know something,” Kramer said. “I’m starting to get pissed with whoever is sending this shit at us.”

  “Some Celtic goddess with a grudge.” Ben smoothed the last of the dressing into place and resisted giving her a kiss to make it better.

  “If I ever meet her she’s going down,” Kramer said, her eyes hard.

  Ben squeezed her arm. “I’ll buy a ticket.”

  “You’re gonna be there helping.” Kramer stood and stalked to where Geordie tended the wounds on Tiny.

  “Sorry I didn’t get there sooner,” she said.

  Tiny shrugged. “It’s not too bad, stings a bit, but I’ll live.”

  “Here.” Geordie handed over a couple of pills. “General antibiotic and a painkiller. Should do you some good.”

  Geordie gave one of the antibiotic pills to Kramer. “Get that down your neck. Just in case those fuckers had their beaks in something nasty before they came here.”

  “Geordie,” Kramer said. “You need to mind your language around Emily.”

  Geordie sniffed. “Emily,” he said. “When you hear me use an f-word, promise never to repeat it, especially around your mother.”

  “Okay,” Emily said.

  “See?” Geordie gave Kramer a knowing look. “Sorted. No need to get all holier-than-thou. I’ve heard you swear plenty these past few days.”

  Kramer sighed. “I give up,” she said, and walked back to Ben.

  “Geordie?” Emily said.

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “You said to scream if the birds came back but what should I do if there are wolves?”

  The adults looked in the direction Emily’s finger pointed. The wolves lined a ridge, silhouetted against the sky. Kramer counted twenty when maybe a dozen more appeared closer in, coming up from one of the stream beds. She lifted her assault rifle and said, “This doesn’t look good.”

  “When was the last time anything did look good?” Geordie asked.

  “About a month ago.” Kramer came to her feet. “It was a slice of chocolate fudge cake in the canteen back at Kenyon Air Force Base.”

  “Did it taste as good as it looked?” Geordie asked.

  “I didn’t eat it. I’m on a diet.”

  “That’ll teach you,” Geordie said with a laugh. “What’s the point of dieting in our line of work?”

  “Maybe the wolves will ignore me,” Kramer said. “Not enough meat on my bones.”

  “Well we’re about to find out,” Geordie said as the first wolves began to howl.

  Chapter Twelve

  “We finally got a break early this morning.”

  The Senior Scene of Crime Officer led Reuben and Hannah along the plush hotel corridor. Neither of the intelligence officers had ever stayed in a place like this. Deep pile carpet, paintings on the corridor walls, the kind of décor that only people with proper money can buy.

  “I thought we had a limit to our overnight budget,” Hannah whispered.

  “Congrave supplements his. He inherited money from an uncle who made his fortune in diamond mining in Africa.”

  “I wish I had a rich uncle.” Hannah stopped as the officer turned to them.

  “We couldn’t find any evidence in Mr Congrave’s room. No sign of a struggle, barely any evidence that he’d even been in there even though his bodyguard saw him enter. So we asked the hotel management to clear the floor. They weren’t easy to convince, but there are now some happy customers living in bridal suites and penthouse apartments here and in a sister hotel around the corner. What that meant is that we could check each room and about seven this morning we entered this one and found definite signs of physical disturbance and a patch on the floor that we believe to be a deposit of vomit. We’ve sent it for analysis, and I’ve requested an expedited service. We should know in a couple of hours whether we have a DNA match with anyone in our database.”

  Reuben and Hannah were not allowed into the room. They stood in the corridor and looked in through the wedged open door. Two arc lights had been set up and technicians in white hooded-overalls and face masks were working over the room.

  “Do we know who the guest was for this room?” Reuben asked.

  “Ah, now that’s where it gets a little more interesting,” the Crime Officer beckoned them to follow him.

  They walked with silent footsteps back along the corridor to another room. This one had been taken over by the investigators. Three laptop computers were in use, and the officer took Reuben and Hannah to one of them.

  “We’ve been running all the footage from the hotel security cameras. We’ve seen Congrave arrive, go up to his floor in the lift and along the corridor to his room. And that’s it. No other sighting of him.”

  The officer tapped at a couple of keys and opened a video file.

  “Until we found this.”

  The view on the screen showed a tight downward angle view of the interior of a lift. A woman appeared in view. She looked up, as if she knew that camera was monitoring her, and smiled. She looked down again a few seconds later as the lift reached its destination and she walked out.

  “And?” Reuben asked.

  “And the corridor cameras don’t show her leaving the lift. In fact, there are no images of her anywhere in the hotel, either in the lobby, on any floors or in any areas accessed by staff only.”

  “Can you run it again?” Hannah asked.

  When the short video commenced, Hannah leant in close to the screen. She studied the image and the woman.

  “She’s attractive,” Hannah said. “Quite beautiful actually, but that’s not what’s interesting.”

  The Crime Officer smiled. “You spotted it?”

  “The floor numbers?”

  He smiled. “Took us about half-an-hour,” he said.

  “What about them?” Reuben asked.

  “She comes into view when the lights on the floor display panel are between three and four,” the officer said.

  Reuben looked at the Crime Scene Officer. “How many people know about this?”

  “Me plus four others.”

  “All on your team?” Reube
n asked.

  “The hotel security manager has seen it. We wanted to be sure that the lights on the display switched off between floors.” He stared at them. “You know about this?”

  Reuben pointed at the laptop. “We need that video. Any copies or backups must be deleted. Get the people on your team who know about this together. You’ll have all signed the official secrets act, Hannah will run through it again with you. No-one else is to know about this. I’ll find the security manager. What’s his background.”

  “Ex-Met Police. Reached the rank of Commander.”

  “Good,” Reuben said. “He should know the score, and the hotel will want to keep things quiet anyway.”

  The officer looked surprised. “So you’re brushing all this under the carpet?”

  “Hell, no,” Reuben said as he left the room.

  Ten minutes later, Reuben sat with former Metropolitan police commander, Gordon Clemence, sipping a very nice filter coffee and tasting a shortbread made by the hotel’s patisserie chef.

  Clemence brushed crumbs from his tie as he said, “Of course I’ll keep these details to myself. The issue is what threat is there to the reputation of the hotel.”

  “None,” Reuben said. “The woman we are looking for has... talents that were specifically used to target Douglas Congrave. She poses no further threat to you, your employer or any other guests.”

  “That’s good to hear.” Clemence sat back, regarding Reuben with the kind of look Reuben used to get from his house master back at school. “So why are the security services so interested in her?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that,” Reuben said with a smile.

  Clemence shrugged. “I miss it, you know? All the day-to-day details. Murders, rapes, terrorism. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

  “I will.” Reuben stood and shook hands with the ex-police commander.

  “And let me know about Douglas, he was a regular client and I was aware of his position within the security services so it would be nice to know what the outcome of this is. I can only hope it’s a kidnapping and you will receive a ransom demand in due course.”