by Ted Tayler
“How was I supposed to know?” whined Dickerson.
“We don’t need to know,” said Rusty as he crossed the room to stand behind Dickerson’s chair. “Our job is to follow orders to the letter. We don’t cut corners or switch off our concentration. That’s what gives us a chance of coming back alive.”
“We’re going back home now,” said Phoenix, “and you’ll be coming along for the ride.”
Gus Dickerson didn’t look up. Rusty brought the butt of the gun onto his head.
“We’ll take him to Larcombe. Henry Case can deal with him in the ice-house. We owe it to those American Marines if nothing else. We might get away with his conduct today, but an agent who operates like Dickerson has could expose the Olympus Project and jeopardise our entire existence.”
CHAPTER 7
The journey south proved uneventful; the traffic flows heavier than usual. It was early on a Friday evening. There were stretches of roadworks too on the M5. Phoenix couldn’t see they made much progress since he and Athena drove north last weekend. That seemed so long ago now. So much had happened in the past week. Athena lost her mother. He had lost a mother figure he had never experienced.
Phoenix was glad he let Rusty drive. They swung through the pillars of the gateway to Larcombe Manor at a quarter past nine.
“Hope will be asleep,” said Rusty, as he pulled up by the transport section garage.
“You’re forgetting someone,” said Phoenix.
Gus Dickerson was secured in the back of the van. They hadn’t heard a thing from him throughout the trip.
Rusty sighed.
“I’ll call Henry,” he said. “I presume he’s on-site this weekend? I don’t recall him mentioning a weekend away with the Reverend.”
“Henry will be on duty in the ice-house, if not,” said Phoenix.
“He’s a tortured soul at present, Phoenix. That relationship with Sarah Gough has changed him.”
“For the better, as far as I can tell,” said Phoenix, “and Giles too. They’re both far happier since they found a partner. Why would you say he was tortured?”
Rusty told his friend about the conversation he had with Henry before they left for the mission.
“I’ve been so engrossed in other matters I’ve neglected to consider how everyone else is coping,” said Phoenix. “You know how it is. I try to keep our personal lives and what we do for Olympus separate. It’s a struggle. I want my life with Athena and Hope to be as normal as possible. Grace’s death came as a terrible shock to everyone. That was only last Monday, yet Athena and I had to put our feelings on hold to see the goals we committed to were achieved. Geoffrey is with us this weekend. He’s grieving and needs us to help him through the coming days. Somehow, Athena and I need to push forward with the Olympus timetable.”
“Time to delegate, Phoenix,” said Rusty. “You can’t carry the full weight on your shoulders forever. I’ll step up, and so will Minos and Alastor. We can rely on Henry to look after the training programmes, and make sure Hugh keeps the Irregulars initiative on track.”
“Hugh Fraser, do you know, I don’t remember talking to him since he arrived? I insisted on recruiting him. We spent one afternoon in the orangery working on the Irregulars programme. That’s it. What message does that send?”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Phoenix,” said Rusty. “You’ve worked miracles in the time you’ve been at Larcombe. Take a break over the weekend. Let the rest of us carry the load for a while. Now, get moving. Go to that wife of yours, she will wonder where you are.”
Phoenix got out of the van and made for the main building. Rusty drove off toward the ice-house. In the back of the van, Gus Dickerson was still unconscious. Rusty called Henry Case. The security chief was in the stable block, and not due underground until the morning. Five minutes later, he joined Rusty.
“Sorry to interrupt your evening, Henry,” said Rusty, “but we had to bring you a visitor.”
Henry’s shoulders sagged. Rusty lifted the bulky weight of Gus Dickerson on his shoulder and carried him to the lift.
“Straight to the third floor, Henry,” he said.
“Who is this man, and how long has he been unconscious?” asked the security chief.
“Dickerson is the senior man from the Sheffield team. He carried several black marks against him before this mission, and he put everyone one of us at risk earlier today. He can’t work for Olympus any longer. Phoenix doesn’t trust him to keep his mouth shut if we dismiss him from service. Our security is paramount as I know you understand. We have no choice. As for how long he’s been out, it must be six hours. I clubbed him with my gun.”
The lift was now at Level Three. Henry followed Rusty and his burden along the corridor to the final door. Rusty laid Gus Dickerson on the floor. Henry checked his vital signs.
“It appears my work is done,” said Henry.
“Dickerson’s dead?” asked Rusty.
“You must have hit him harder than intended.”
“I knew Dickerson from before,” Rusty admitted, “he was the same loose cannon in Iraq.”
“You’re telling me it was personal?”
“I shall have to inform Phoenix,” said Rusty.
“Phoenix has enough to worry about,” said Henry, placing a hand on Rusty’s shoulder. “Dickerson was never leaving Hotel California alive. I’ll get his body disposed of in the morning. You saved me from having to face the prospect of killing another human being. We’ll keep this between the two of us.”
“I told Phoenix of your concerns, twenty minutes ago. He’ll discuss them with Athena and then tackle you about them. I wish I kept my mouth shut.”
“I talked to Athena after our earlier conversation, Rusty. Don’t apologise. She understood my predicament. If you recall, she brought Sarah and me together. Athena sanctioned the use of trainee agents wherever possible to avoid me being involved. To date, the occasion never arose, thank goodness.”
“Thanks, Henry, you’re a pal,” said Rusty. They left Gus Dickerson’s body in the room and took the lift back to the surface. As Henry passed Hugh Fraser’s door, he saw a light. He couldn’t make out what was being said. Despite the late hour, the former soldier sounded deep in conversation.
Rusty made his way to the main house and climbed the stairs to the apartment he shared with Artemis. She lay in bed reading.
“You’re back, at last,” she said, “did everything turn out okay?”
“The odd minor hiccup, but we got there,” he replied.
“Is something troubling you?” Artemis asked. She had known Rusty long enough to tell that when he went quiet, it was because something played on his mind.
Rusty joined her in bed.
“The missions were both successful,” he said, “but we hit a problem with Dickerson, the guy you ran the background checks on. I served with him in Iraq ten years ago, and he caused two unnecessary deaths. It was almost a repeat performance today. At least we won’t have to work together again. Are you at the end of a chapter? I need someone to hold me tonight.”
Artemis closed her book.
Saturday, 6th September 2014
The morning sun promised a fresh, warm start to the weekend. Athena and Hope were in the bathroom when Phoenix awoke. He found the pair of them fast asleep when he got upstairs last night. When she rose this morning, after Hope first stirred, Athena would have seen that he was home. She recognised that a good night’s sleep after a mission was preferable to a late-night debrief and perhaps broken sleep.
Phoenix walked through to the kitchen to make coffee. He looked at the calendar. Today, Heracles and Aphrodite were to marry. He had almost forgotten. It was understood from the off that Olympus heads would not be on the invitation list. The couple wanted a quiet, family affair, and Phoenix would have felt uncomfortable anyway.
Elizabeth McLaren, the Duchess of Lochalsh lived in Glenfinnan Castle in the north-west of Scotland. Aphrodite’s education and breeding set her apart from the likes of a W
est Country boy. There were many names ahead of her in the line of succession to the English throne, but Phoenix hadn’t rubbed shoulders with her class of person in his youth.
Lawyers who handled the McLaren family fortune were glad to provide significant sums of money for the Olympus Project. A clean bill of health from the Charity Commissioners continued to validate the Project as a charitable diversion where she could occupy her time.
Sir James Grant-Nicholls, was a different character altogether. Heracles hailed from Musselburgh, in Scotland, and carved out a successful industrial career. When the two Olympians announced their engagement in April, Zeus, Hera, and the others had been happy for them. Elizabeth was a widow, and her only son, Rory was estranged from her. It wasn’t unheard of for the children of titled people in Britain to adopt a hippy lifestyle. It seemed common for a son, or daughter to kick over the traces and rebel against the riches they would inherit. Their parents carried that innate sense of entitlement; the children often didn’t.
Sir James flew his own plane from Scotland to Olympus meetings in England and had offered Elizabeth a lift. Things moved quickly from there. Nobody mentioned Fiona Grant-Nicholls. When Olympus was attacked from within, by Demeter and her son Hermes, Athena ordered Minos and Alastor to run a thorough background check on each of the Olympians.
Phoenix had sat in on the meeting when they went through their findings with Athena. Thanatos had been sidelined. He was already under suspicion as a traitor. Sometime between the end of September last year and April, the thirty-year relationship between Janes and Fiona came unglued. There were no children. There were no suspicions of infidelity on either side uncovered by the digging the Two Amigos carried out.
Phoenix found it odd. Today the wedding was due to take place at Glenfinnan Castle. Should he mention it to Athena? She had read the report that her senior aides produced. Surely, she hadn’t forgotten?
Phoenix finished drinking his coffee and wandered through to the lounge. Athena sat cuddling Hope on a settee. Both turned to look at him. Hope beamed a welcome.
“Good morning, darling,” said Athena. “Are you going to tell me about yesterday before or after you’ve showered and dressed? Daddy will be up soon. We don’t want him thinking you lounge around in your pyjamas throughout the morning.”
“How long before Maria Elena arrives?” asked Phoenix. “Perhaps you can join me in the shower, it might be the only time we have alone to chat today.”
“Cheeky,” replied Athena, “but you’re out of luck. Giles asked for the weekend off. He’s taken Maria Elena to meet his parents. They’ve moved to a cottage on the North Devon coast. We’ve got to look after our daughter all weekend.”
Hope looked hard at her father’s face to see whether that would be a problem.
“Great,” said Phoenix, “Rusty said I should relax with my family this weekend.”
Hope smiled with satisfaction.
“That sounds ominous,” said Athena. “Does that mean yesterday didn’t go to plan?”
“I’ll tell you after I’ve finished getting ready. I don’t want to discuss it in front of Hope.”
“Hurry back then, I’m more intrigued than before.”
By the time Phoenix returned to the lounge, Geoffrey Fox had crossed the corridor and joined his daughter, and granddaughter.
“Phoenix, it’s good to see you,” said his father-in-law.
“You too, Geoffrey. I wish it was under happier circumstances, but you know you’re always welcome here at Larcombe Manor.”
Geoffrey took little Hope and sat her on his knee. She took great interest in his tie.
“Grandad’s careless isn’t he,” Geoffrey told her, “that’s an egg. I ate a boiled egg and soldiers for breakfast. I would think of Grace every minute of the day, Phoenix if I wasn’t here. You two and Hope are a godsend.”
“Did you hear any news while I was away,” Phoenix asked Athena.
She shook her head.
“We don’t expect to hear anything before Monday.”
“I thought I heard you in the corridor outside my room last night, Phoenix,” said Geoffrey. “You got home late. I get the impression the people you do business with don’t keep normal office hours, am I right?”
“Nothing much gets past you, Geoffrey,” smiled Phoenix.
“I may not be as fleet of foot as in my younger days, but the old brain still functions.”
Athena and Phoenix shared a look. Keeping the true nature of Olympus from Geoffrey was hard enough when he lived in London and only made the occasional visit. It would be doubly difficult for him living under the same roof as us for an extended period.
“What are your plans?” asked Geoffrey. “I can look after Hope if you want to spend the rest of the morning together.”
“I would enjoy spending an hour in the pool,” said Phoenix. “We used to do that a lot before Hope arrived.”
“I seem to remember it was where you first noticed me,” said Athena.
Phoenix noticed her long before that morning, but their initial encounters had been frosty. They were like two fighters, sparring with one another, before deciding when to attack. Erebus warned him to tread with care. Athena had been hurt by her experiences before arriving at Larcombe.
Phoenix swam alone for an hour that morning. He tried to rid his thoughts of the litany of victims of the sexual predator Sir Geoffrey Penrose, the target on his next mission. He sat on the edge of the pool with his feet dangling in the water when he heard someone else enter the building. It was Athena. She stepped out of her tracksuit bottoms and peeled off her sweatshirt top to reveal a one-piece grey swimsuit.
Athena’s appearance stunned him so much he had stared at her mesmerised. That was the moment he fell under her spell. Back in the present, he smiled at Geoffrey.
“We’ll take you up on the offer, Geoffrey. I’m sure you can keep Hope amused until lunchtime. Athena was wrong about that early morning dip in the pool. It wasn’t the first time I noticed her, but it was a significant moment. It was when I knew I loved her and wanted us to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“We’ll expect you when we see you then,” said Geoffrey, smiling for the first time since last Monday.
Phoenix and Athena left Geoffrey with their daughter and collected their swimming costumes from their bedroom. They walked, arm in arm across the lawns to the old workers’ cottages where the recreation facilities were now housed.
“You’re an old softie at heart, aren’t you,” said Athena, ruffling Phoenix’s hair.
“Rusty told me I needed to switch off more; to delegate responsibility to others. I thought I could compartmentalise matters so that our home life and Olympus remained separate. I’ve allowed too much of my time to be on the latter. He suggested I risked burn-out.”
“Forget that for now. Let’s swim, enjoy the exercise and the fact we’re together. We’ll catch up on last week and the other stuff tomorrow. If Artemis hits a problem in the ice-house, we’ll direct her to Minos for guidance. Between now and nine o’clock on Monday morning, only a national emergency will give them cause to disturb us.”
That sounds good, thought Phoenix, as they reached the indoor pool. Half a dozen trainee agents powering up and down the lanes. Nobody took any notice of them when they emerged from the changing rooms. They slipped into the warm water and let the worries of the world wash away.
An hour later, the pair sat in the next-door cafeteria with hot drinks.
“We haven’t done this in ages,” said Athena. “Can you remember what we discussed on those occasions?”
“You told me about Grace and her heart operation, how Geoffrey planned to cope with her recuperation. We chatted about Elizabeth the person before she died. Then we discussed Elizabeth the yacht and whether we should sell her or keep her. We reminisced about our days with Erebus and how much we both missed him. There were other times, but I can’t bring any to mind.”
“Each of those was a personal moment,” sa
id Athena, taking Phoenix’s hand in hers, “not Olympus problems we faced, and perhaps struggled over to find a solution. Times such as those are important.”
Phoenix nodded.
“Fiona Grant-Nicholls,” he said, watching Athena’s face for a reaction.
“I thought we promised to avoid Olympus matters,” she replied.
“The wedding is today, Athena. You haven’t mentioned it. It’s marked on the calendar in the kitchen, but that’s it.”
“Zeus asked me not to,” she replied.
“Is that all you have to say?”
“I spoke to him after the Olympus meeting in April when they announced their engagement,” she continued. “I couldn’t admit that we checked out each of the Olympians, including him and his wife Hera. I merely pointed out that James married in 1982, and nothing showed that the situation had changed. He asked me not to discuss it with you, or any of the others. Zeus wanted to investigate further for himself,”
“What did he find?” asked Phoenix.
“Fiona couldn’t have children, and this weighed on her mind. James’s wealth gave her everything she could ever want, but she couldn’t enjoy it. He kept many of the stories out of the press concerning her jet-setting lifestyle, her alcohol and cocaine abuse, and her relationships with both men and women. By 2002, they lived apart, and James set up a healthy allowance on which she could live well. Fiona continued to struggle with her demons. In 2003, she appeared in an Edinburgh court on charges of driving under the influence. Fiona’s solicitor told the court she struggled under a mountain of debt. In February of the following year, she visited James in Musselburgh. After nine o’clock on the evening of the twentieth, Fiona disappeared.”
“What do you mean? Why did this never get reported?” asked Phoenix, “surely, James would have phoned the police if she went missing? A search could have been organised. Musselburgh’s a big place, and only just up the road from Edinburgh.”
“James never contacted the police. He didn’t mention the matter to anyone. Her family are from Cambridge. They rarely saw Fiona after she and James married. For months, nobody from the family asked where she had gone. On the evening of the twentieth, she visited an off-licence in Musselburgh. She bought a large bottle of vodka. There have been no sightings since that night.”
