The Great Fury

by Thomas Kennedy

  “Hi Puca Beag,” Oengus greeted.

  Nina said nothing and pressed on, leading the way, holding Oengus by the hand to offset the horror of the infested streets.

  “You are being followed,” Puca Beag reported. “A black sedan.”

  “We are being followed,” Oengus said.

  Nina didn’t break stride.

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “A black sedan,” Oengus elaborated.

  Nina knew Hugo did not have a black sedan car. And in addition given she had told him of the intended destination it was unlikely he would have had them followed. Hugo would be in position in Grand Central Station expecting them to arrive.

  “Tell the pigeon to get lost. They don’t allow pigeons into Grand Central Station,” Nina said as they came into sight of their destination.

  “O.K.”

  Puca Beag took off, happy to have done his job. He could follow in the air and then watch from the buildings outside the Station. It was comfortable and rat free at his intended level.

  “Evasive action,” Nina said pulling Oengus by the hand.

  She turned into Madison Avenue in the opposite direction to the traffic, which was gridlocked due to the crocodile attack earlier on. She cut back again joining the one-way system in the opposite direction.

  “They’ll have to be good to keep up in a sedan,” she said and then shrieked as she stood on a frog. Oengus caught her before she went flat on her back.

  She held him a moment and breathed in deeply. He smelt good.

  “Come on,” she said, “we need to run.”

  Hand in hand she led him to Grand Central, arriving breathless.

  In the traffic the Greyman swore and found a spot to park. Leanan joined him on foot.

  “I think they spotted us,” the Greyman said.

  “No worry we were just monitoring them. Morag’s information is they are heading for Grand Central Station. Leave the car and we’ll make our way there,” Leanan said.

  “How does she know?” the Greyman asked.

  “Apparently the girl Nina is one of Hugo’s gang. With her cell phone she is our inside man. Instructions are that she is not to be killed unnecessarily.”

  “O.K. but what about Oengus?” the Greyman asked.

  “Be careful, he may be of magic provenance. Anyway our instructions are to follow until capture is possible. We won’t need to intervene otherwise,” Leanan said.

  The Greyman took the information on board. With the embrace of death, humans were one level and magic beings like a Leprechaun, no problem. But other echelons had powers of unknown provenance and perhaps magic beyond his league. “O.K.” he agreed.

  “There are a number of entrances to the Station but Nina has let us know that their rendezvous is down below in the food hall. So we observe from the inside. We make sure that when Oengus’s uncle is spotted that he does not get away,” Leanan added.

  “Fine,” the Greyman said agreeably and locked the car.

  He looked like a tramp walking down the street with a barely discernible wisp of grey cloud inside his cloak.

  He stayed a few paces behind Leanan as he found her close company unbearably depressing.

  Oengus was amazed at the size and scale of Grand Central Station. That and the wonderful marble finish. It was grander and much bigger than any church he had been in, and busier.

  “This way,” Nina said, happy to be inside the warm clean atmosphere. There was no sign of either rats or frogs. She led the way through the throng and downstairs into the food hall with its many cafes.

  “Seat?” a young lady in a white blouse and a two-piece uniform asked, and picking up a menu from a side table she led them to a table inside a fenced area. There were many tables in the busy café, all stacked close together and Oengus was relieved when she sat them in a place with a good view of the concourse.

  “I can’t see him,” Oengus said.

  “Expecting a third?” the woman asked, overhearing Oengus’s remark.

  “Fine, we’ll order anyway,” Nina said.

  They ordered a full breakfast and waited.

  They could see the expanse of the food hall but here and there pillars that supported the roof interrupted their view.

  “They have Wi-Fi,” Nina prompted.

  Oengus turned on the iPad. There was nothing in the mailbox.

  Next door to the café there was a sushi bar. There Dearg Due, who had a stomach with a high tolerance of raw fish, nibbled as she watched. She would have liked a blood sauce but had to settle for ketchup.

  She had seen Oengus and Nina arrive and was pleased they had chosen the café next to the sushi bar. Her view took in Hugo and his crew at a nearby circular coffee bar. Then she spotted Leanan coming down the stair. She knew the Greyman would be about but she couldn’t spot him. She sipped her glass of water and relaxed.

  The trap was set. All that was needed was the missing uncle John.

  ***

  “Well done Morag,” Dutronc said.

  Morag was pleased. “I hope you enjoyed the network TV news this morning,” she said.

  They were in the boardroom of Live Corp, both at one end of a large highly polished mahogany table enjoying a breakfast meeting

  “Yes, yes,” Dutronc said warmly, adding, “I was amazed. A large white crocodile was reported on Madison Avenue. People thought it was an advertising stunt!”

  “Until the croc had a young woman for breakfast,” Morag said with a laugh.

  “Curiosity killed the cat!” Dutronc replied. As he spoke he stood and went to a sideboard. He brought two espresso coffees back to the table.

  “You take care out there Morag,” he added softly.

  Morag’s eyes sparkled as she took they coffee. Their hands brushed together.

  “It has been a while,” he said as he sat again.

  “Yes. I’m ready whenever you are,” Morag said.

  She ignored her coffee and Dutronc gave her an appraising look as he sipped his.

  “I have something really kinky in mind,” he said.

  “No spiders?” she asked with a frown.

  “No spiders Morag.”

  “O.K.”

  Dutronc finished his coffee and then he asked, his tone once again business-like, “Morag, this person you brought back from Ireland?”

  “Deirdre, she’s a very experienced witch,” Morag explained.

  “You want her on the team?”

  “For the moment,” Morag said.

  “Has she been vetted by HR?”

  Morag sighed. She had a low opinion of Human Resources.

  “I skipped vetting as she has a special role in my project. She is the fall guy should we run into difficulty. Her downside is that she likes to eat people but I can certify she has that under control,” Morag explained.

  Dutronc considered.

  “I would suggest a zero hours contract,” he said. “Anyone not vetted cannot come onto the permanent staff. Company policy, as you well know.”

  “She’s completely off the books.”

  “Find a way to set her up, without connection to Live Corp. That way she can earn a crust yet be available to you as required,” Dutronc instructed.

  “She can make do day to day with reading palms and fortunes.

  She has rented a small boutique with a room out back and a handy cellar. She’ll set up as ‘Madame D’ fortune-teller. Her hours are completely flexible,” Morag explained.

  “Good,” Dutronc agreed. “By they way, is she attractive?”

  “Only with a drop of the water of life and a spell. Her default mode is ugly as sin,” Morag said with a grin.

  “I’ll meet her some day,” Dutronc said.

  �
��Better not. She’s off territory and knows nothing of Live Corp,” Morag advised firmly.

  “Good, good, but can we move on?” Dutronc said, “The Stock Exchange is very jittery this morning and property prices are tending to fragile. Thanks to the news impact of the white crocodile and the general exodus from the sewers. Well done so far.”

  “As the disaster unfolds we will have to consider whether to make New York uninhabitable,” Morag said.

  “All of it?”

  “Sorry, I meant Manhattan.”

  “Good, we want a controlled disaster so that our forward positions on the markets are favorable. But obviously we need scope for recovery after we engineer a crash,” Dutronc said.

  “The disaster is planned for Manhattan only. We will monitor developments,” Morag promised.

  “Watch carefully and we’ll see if we can get the markets to a tipping point,” Dutronc explained.

  “A crash followed by a recovery,” Morag summarized.

  “You’ve got it Morag. But no threads or trails to lead back to us.”

  “This is where Deirdre the Irish Witch comes in. Illegal emigrant, ugly and unattractive, she’s the fall-guy should the thing go bottom up.”

  “In that case forget my suggestion of a zero hours contract,” Dutronc said with a worried frown.

  “Forgotten, she’ll work direct to me and I’ll make sure she can’t be connected to me or to Live Corp.”

  “The rest of your team?” Dutronc asked.

  “She only meets those of magic provenance. The Greyman got her into the sewers. She activated my spell to the precise recipe and then ate the formula.”

  “Powerful spell if I say so myself,” Dutronc said in contented tones.

  “I’ve had a research team working on it. Deirdre merely activated. It needed a witch and a good one. Deirdre has the touch.”

  “Excellent. Do you think we need a second dose?” Dutronc asked, concerned that the formula had been destroyed.

  “The formula is safe. The activation instructions I can rewrite.”

  “How does it work Morag, in the broadest sense, no technical,” Dutronc asked.

  “The infusion irritates the skins of all dwellers in the waters of the sewers, thus driving them to the surface.”

  “Rats included?” Dutronc probed.

  “Already a plague in Chinatown.”

  “Excellent. No chance of bubonic plague, the black death, I presume?”

  “Not intentionally,” Morag admitted.

  “Well consider the extent to which we should immunize our people,” Dutronc instructed.

  “A bit obvious at this stage. Let’s stay low-key and monitor how things go,” Morag advised.

  “Once the markets dip we’ll be able to cash our forward positions. Do you have an antidote?” Dutronc asked, accepting Morag’s counter argument in the matter of immunization.

  “Yes, everything is set. We can step up or step down our activity as required,” Morag reassured.

  Dutronc considered for a moment.

  Then he smiled at Morag.

  “Right,” he said and standing he led the way to the adjacent overnight room.

  Morag shook with excitement and could barely undo her buttons as she followed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The first they saw of John was when he sat in beside them in the restaurant. “Uncle John,” Oengus exclaimed, “where did you come from?”

  John gave an enigmatic smile.

  “You look tired,” Oengus added.

  “Every fireman in town is tired. Have you seen the streets? Everything that lives in the sewers has emerged into daylight. It’s chaos out there. I don’t know how they are keeping this place clear.”

  “Oh, and this is Nina, she lives in your block.”

  John shook Nina’s hand and gave her a smile without recognition.

  “I met Nina when I went to your apartment,” Oengus said.

  “Good find you getting my iPad. We had so many burglaries I devised that hideout.”

  “We needed a bit of magic,” Oengus admitted.

  “Thought you might.”

  The waitress arrived. “Same as him,” John said, indicating to Oengus’s breakfast. The waitress made a note and departed.

  “Where are you staying?” Oengus asked.

  “Where are YOU staying,” John replied with emphasis.

  “Greenwich village with a friend,” Oengus said.

  “You saw what happened at my place?” John asked.

  Nina and Oengus nodded.

  “What did you make of it?” John asked, looking directly at Oengus. Pancake halfway to his mouth Oengus paused.

  “They said it was a vampire,” Nina hissed.

  “Exactly,” John said.

  “What?” Oengus asked.

  John leaned in but then leaned back as the waitress arrived with his breakfast. When she was gone he leaned in again.

  “I did a deal with your people Oengus. Simple deal. I got my health back. I said I’d help you on a mission. I gave you back, they let me go.”

  “And?” Oengus prompted.

  Nina listened without understanding but with great interest.

  “Why did they send a vampire? That breaks the deal,” John said.

  “They sent a vampire?” Oengus asked, astonished.

  “I’m sure that the attack was meant for me. I’ve been hiding out since. It was no burglary that’s for sure.”

  The finished their breakfasts in silence.

  “I’m supposed to contact you and get directions to the ‘Great Fury,’” Oengus said.

  John sipped his coffee.

  “You think nothing has changed?” he asked cautiously.

  “I don’t know, no one told me,” Oengus protested.

  “Can I say something?” Nina interjected.

  “Sure,” John conceded.

  “I don’t know what you two are talking about...” Nina began.

  “The ‘Great Fury’ is an antique sword,” John said.

  “OK,” Nina said with a shrug. “But on the other point, there is a third possibility.”

  “What?” John asked.

  “Well I’ve been helping Oengus to find his way around the town. And I’d say he’s one of the nicest but most naive boys I’ve met.”

  “Probably,” John said with a grin in Oengus’s direction. Oengus felt himself blush slightly.

  “So maybe there’s a third party involved of which neither of you know about.”

  John met Oengus’s eye.

  “Funny, we were followed and...” Oengus paused and glanced at Nina.

  “And?’ John prompted.

  “And Nina thought she saw a vampire last night.”

  “I might have been dreaming,” Nina said, embarrassed.

  “Everyone on our street knows Hugo,” John said, changing tack.

  Nina nodded her agreement.

  “And he’s sitting over across the concourse at the round table with a few of his gang also well known in our neighborhood.”

  Nina looked and said nothing.

  “Are you with Oengus or Hugo,” John hissed, leaning in and eyeballing Nina.

  Nina shifted uneasily.

  “She’s with me,” Oengus said.

  “The naive boy?” John said sarcastically.

  “What’s supposed to happen next?” John asked Nina.

  “I don’t know,” she said. ‘Someone is paying Hugo to keep an eye out for you.”

  “Someone, not Hugo? Someone else wants me?” John asked, keeping his voice calm lest he spooked Nina.

  “Maybe,” Nina agreed.

  “Oengus I think we are in a trap,�
�� John said.

  “What do we do?”

  “Finish your coffee.”

  “I’m getting used to coffee,” Oengus admitted.

  Nina admired their calm. She didn’t know what to do.

  “I’m going to the ladies toilet,” she said and stood.

  “Goodbye,” John said.

  Nina gave an anxious glance at Oengus and left.

  “Did Nina just desert us?” Oengus asked after a moment.

  “You’re catching on boy,” John said.

  John scanned the room. He decided that if a move were to be made against them it would be when they made to leave. Hugo and his gang stood out but none else was obvious.

  “You got any magic?” John asked Oengus.

  “I can move a sugar lump,” Oengus confessed.

  “Can you identify a magic being as opposed to a human?” John asked.

  “Don’t know.”

  John shook his head.

  Oengus scanned the concourse.

  “There’s a red haired woman in the sushi bar that stands out,” Oengus said.

  “Very good looking,” John agreed.

  “Fits the description Nina gave of the vampire. We can ask Nina when she gets back.”

  “Oengus wise up. Nina is gone. It’s just you and me kid,” John said with a John Wayne voice and a smile.

  “What do we do?” Oengus asked.

  “I want you to go over to the Sushi bar and kiss that redhead on the lips and be sure you touch the inside of her lip with your tongue.”

  “Uncle John!” Oengus said with a grimace. “Gross.”

  “Oengus if you are who I think you are, you should be attractive to women and it is said that if the God of Love kisses a woman she is smitten. Think of it as a virus thing, you have to exchange saliva or whatever.”

  “I’m not the God of Love, I’m apprentice God of Inconsequential Things.”

  “I’m guessing that if you touch her you will know if she is a vampire or a magic person.”

  “And then?” Oengus asked.

  “While you create a diversion I’ll get out of here.”

  “And leave me?”

  “Everyman for himself.”

  “You are supposed to help me on my mission.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “I’m to find the sword, The Great Fury. You gave a solemn undertaking,” Oengus said speaking in serious tones.