by S. T. Boston
Sam nodded his head, smiled and said, “Trust a reporter to fuck things up for everyone.” He offered Adam a wink that took any sting out of the sentence. “Book or no book,” he continued, walking backward down the shabby and crumbling concrete path that led to the garage, “they'd have found us.”
Shuffling along, Sam reached the door first. He partially rested the body onto the ground and reached back, opening the door. The dark interior smelt of dust and old oil, and cobwebs hung from the cracked timber beams, like dirty silk.
“Put her over by the wood pile,” Adam instructed. “I'll use the tarp to cover the body. We will be long gone before she starts to smell and people come looking.” He felt his arms take her weight as Sam lifted from his end and walked in. Placing the body on the dusty concrete, Adam stripped the faded green tarp off the timber stack. As he did, a few large black spiders scuttled from their hidden homes and scurried into the wood, their bulbous arachnid bodies moving with a purposeful swiftness that sent a chill down his spine.
“Almost a shame,” said Sam as the sheet slid over Lilith's face, her dark, tanned skin already turned pale.
“How so?”
“Well, she looked quite hot, pity she was – one of them.”
“You're sick,” said Adam brushing his polo shirt down and standing back. “Don't let my sister hear you say that,” he grinned.
“That's a bit rich, calling me sick. I'm not the one who is lusting after an alien. Maybe I should call you Avatar from now on!”
Adam flipped him the bird and said, “She hardly looks alien.”
“Well let's see, for one she wasn't born on Earth and secondly she is over six thousand years old. So yeah, I'd call that pretty fucking alien. Okay, so she doesn't have a big grey head and black eyes, but …” he chuckled, enjoying the banter. “I know some guys have a thing for the more mature woman,” he joked. “However, on the grounds that there wouldn't be a straight guy on the planet who wouldn't have a crack if they had the chance, I'll let you off.”
“You're a dick,” said Adam light-heartedly.
“I know, sorry. Too many years being around squaddies does that to you.” Sam rounded the tarp and walked out into the overgrown garden. “Your old granddad would be turning in his grave if he saw this mess.” He gestured to the invading brambles that snared their way through the other unkempt plant life.
“I know. It's gone to rats, hasn't it?”
“Bit like everything else, then,” Sam concluded, heading back into the kitchen where Lucie was wringing out a blood soaked tea-towel into the sink.
“Right, time to learn what needs to be learned,” announced Sam, looking at Oriyanna who turned the water off. “I guess you guys are pretty much up to speed?”
“Yeah, thanks mainly to Lilith,” Adam answered as he stepped into the room. “She disclosed everything in a bid to win my trust.”
“And you think she was telling the truth?”
“I wish I didn't but I do, yes.”
Sam shook his head, “That bad, then?”
“Pretty much,” replied Adam solemnly.
“Shit. I feel like that guy from the Die Hard films, what was his name?”
“Bruce Willis,” Adam answered, a little unsure where Sam was going.
“I know that, I mean the character.”
“John McClane.”
“That's the one, you know when he says about the same shit happening to the same guy twice. That line.”
Adam chuckled, “You remember some useless crap, don't you? Unfortunately, for him it happened like five times.”
“Well, balls to that,” Sam replied. “I don't even want to be part of the sequel.” He looked at Oriyanna and enjoyed the look of sheer confusion on her face. “I guess we don't have any teabags for a brew so let's go to the lounge and talk all this through, then, if I still feel hungry we eat. But in the meantime.” He bent down and retrieved his pack from the floor. Opening it, he took out the small cans of Pepsi and the packs of nuts. “There. This should keep us going, there are some prawn sangers as well but I don't think I'll trust those unless it's a food emergency.”
In the lounge, with the curtains still drawn, it cast a pinkish light over the room as the low autumn sun filtered and diffused through the fabric. Adam perched himself on the small sofa with Oriyanna taking his side. Sam slumped into the chair that Lucie had slept in, the well-worn springs enveloping him welcomingly as he tried to relax. Lucie perched herself on the arm of the chair and rested a hand on his shoulder.
Sam let the others go first. Adam, Lucie and then Oriyanna spoke, each running through their accounts as succinctly as possible whilst being careful not to leave any important details out. Lucie chose not to tell Sam about his impending fatherhood; that was something to be learned when they were alone. She wasn't sure just when that would be, but the baby wasn't going anywhere just yet, so she had time. Talking in low voices, as if someone were listening, they nibbled on the snacks that Sam had rescued from the King Air and sipped the now slightly warm soda. Just like she had in the RV, Oriyanna took a swig from the can and complained at how bad the drink tasted. Sam then listened with interest as she explained about her small intelligence team and how they'd been secretly on the planet for almost two years, certain that Asmodeous would, eventually, turn up like a bad penny.
“I'm not in the least surprised that you were here,” he finally said, leaning back into the armchair that Lucie had slept in. As he did, he felt his weary back creak from being leaned forward for far too long. “I actually had my suspicions from the start.”
“And you never said anything?” questioned Adam.
“No, I didn't want to get your hopes up as she'd never have broken cover, or at least I hope you wouldn't.”
“Like I said, Adam, many times I wanted to come to you but the risks were too high.” She smiled apologetically.
“Strategically it makes perfect sense that she'd be here. Oriyanna is the only living Arkkadian who had direct dealings with the Earth-Breed. Not to mention that she had recently been here and had a bit of knowledge about the modern age.”
“I'm sorry, Sam,” she said, looking him directly in the eyes. “I knew you'd be up to the job, I also knew that it would be unlikely that you'd turn it down. Also with The Gift you stood a far smaller chance of anything bad happening.”
“You don't need to apologise,” Sam reassured her. A wicked smile flashed across his hazel eyes. “Well, apart from that last job, that was a cluster fuck!” He leaned forward again and clasped his hands together. “That bastard, Laurett. He knew I was coming, kept looking around his room before I gave him a nice dose of Pancuronium. He also told me that there were plans for me, and he mumbled a name, ENOLA. Now I know what he was referring to, although I wish to fuck I didn't.”
“The feeling's mutual on that one bud,” agreed Adam.
“It was like he was waiting, thinking someone was about to save his arse. I guess that they meant to nab me before I'd done the deed, I don't know what went wrong at their end but if it hadn't been for the French Police, I'd have been out of there and on my way home hours ago.” Sam continued to run them through his ordeal. As he spoke they listened in silent amazement as he recounted his time in the cells and the daring escape from Le Havre airport. He praised the inspector for his help and said that he'd have been caught or dead if it hadn't been for him.
“So, do you know if you killed either of them?” Oriyanna asked as Sam finally finished speaking.
“I'm not sure,” he replied as his stomach gave a deep protesting gurgle of hunger. “Possibly one, but I didn't feel like sticking around to check it out, sorry.”
“Asag and Namtar will not stop until they find you, or us.” Oriyanna added. “I believe we are safe here for now, but we need to get things moving soon.”
“So,” began Sam, sounding slightly exasperated. “You really think that they can do what Lilith claimed, all that stuff about taking control of the launch systems when those cra
zy bastards turn them back on.”
“I have no doubt,” she replied. “It will take some work, making the Sheolian, stroke Arkkadian tech work with Earth's but it can be done, and he's done it. We tracked one Earth-Breed from the US to Peru, a guy named Benjamin Hawker. From what we could learn about him we believe he was a government tech and programming specialist, I just know he will be involved in Enola.”
Sam groaned and rubbed his face in his hands. Looking through his fingers, as if he didn't want to face the true reality, he said, “Only a person who had spent time here would know to give the program that name, it's almost sickening.”
“I don't follow,” said Adam, looking confused.
“Enola, as in Enola Gay – the B29 Superfortress that dropped the first atomic bomb, Little Boy. I thought you were the educated one.”
“Of course,” sighed Adam. “The name did sound familiar.”
“So, what do we do? Peru is on the other side of the world, and no offence, but last time I stepped onto a commercial airliner with you it didn't end too well.”
Oriyanna chuckled and admired his ability to make light of any situation, “Don't worry, there will be no need for any planes this time.”
“Good, 'cos I've already crashed one before breakfast.”
“I need to go back to London,” she continued, eyeing them all in turn. “There is something in the house that I need.”
“You do know that the place will be crawling with police?” Sam interrupted.
“Not necessarily,” Adam said. “Once they have completed the initial scene investigation, the place will be locked up and put on cordon for a few days whilst they come and go as they please. It's likely that by the time you get there, you will just have one or two uniform officers on the front of the place with a log.” He grinned at them. “I've been to enough crime scenes to know the score.”
“Okay,” said Sam, thinking. “So, say you get there, say you get in, what the hell do you have stashed away that we can use?”
She glanced around the small group again and leaned in as if she were about to tell some big secret. “We weren't just dropped off here on Earth,” she began. “We came as a four.”
“Are you telling me you have a fucking spacecraft squirreled away somewhere?” Sam said, his voice tinged with childish excitement.
“Not here, but in a way, yes. Let me explain.”
“I'm all ears.”
“There is a device in the safe at the house that once used, will recall the craft to my exact location.”
“And just where is this craft?” asked Adam, feeling a pulse of nervous excitement.
“On the dark side of the moon.” Before anyone had a chance to cut in, she added, “As soon as we recall it the craft will enter lunar orbit. Once there it will jump directly to Earth's orbit by opening a very small and short wormhole tunnel to bridge the two hundred and forty or so thousand miles. Once in orbit here, it GPS locks to the return tab and comes directly to its location.”
“Shit,” cried Sam, his smile almost spreading from ear to ear. “Us Earth skivvies really are under-evolved. Just how long will it take to get to us?”
“No more than five minutes from the point of activation,” Oriyanna answered proudly.
Sam stood up and thrust his hands into the deep front pockets of his jacket, and hunched the garment further onto his shoulders before checking the time. “It's just past eight o'clock, I don't know what time the pub opens but if they are opening, and they are serving food, then it should be anytime soon.”
“Is that all you can think about?” mused Adam.
“An army marches on its stomach,” Sam defended.
“We are no army.”
“We might be facing one,” he grinned. “Let's trundle down there in the Juke, as it's not legit we need it out if sight. We can just leave it in the pub's car park.”
“That leaves us with the Mazda which only just has four seats – not that the two in the back count for shit. How the hell are we going to get back to London? There is no way you can have two people in the back all that way.” Adam followed Sam to the front door as Lucie retrieved the keys for the Nissan from a dusty side unit.
“We don't all need to go,” Sam stated, stepping out onto the shingle drive. “That's like putting all your eggs in one basket. Look, it should be a simple enough trip, there and back. Five hours max. You can go with Oriyanna, you know, give you guys a bit of quality time.” He punched Adam's arm encouragingly. They climbed into the 4x4 and Lucie reversed them out onto the road.
Secreted in the deepest corner of Sam's left hand jacket pocket, lost among the usual pocket lint and crap, was the small GPS tracker, which he'd have found if his fingers had explored a little deeper. Sensing that it had moved more than a few feet, it woke up.
Chapter 24
Nicolai Peltz stood on the quayside and watched with a little trepidation as the black spec on the horizon gradually became identifiable at first as a large ship, then a car ferry.
Having been unable to locate either of the outstanding Arkkadians in London, he'd received instructions over the phone to head south and get to Portsmouth where he needed to meet Namtar who, it seemed, had also had some issues of his own. To make things even worse he was alone, having lost his brother Asag during the fight. Peltz wasn't sure if the fact that Namtar had also failed would go in his favour or not. On one hand he couldn't berate him too much, to do that would be hypocritical, but on the other he'd be so furious at the loss of his kin and at having failed he would be in desperate need to vent some anger, and that anger would be heading his and Croaker's way.
Stood next to him, Jim Croaker glanced around nervously, obviously thinking exactly the same. Enjoying the warmth of the disposable coffee cup that he had clenched in his right hand, he swilled the liquid around and took a sip, the steam from the drink escaping in a small vapour trail through the hole of the carry-out lid. Despite being a sunny day there was a nasty chill in the air and the bright sun reflected off the ripples in the water, producing countless mini-suns that shimmered on the surface. He was as keen as Peltz to get the job done and finally make it to Peru, it felt like he'd been in the field for weeks. Croaker swallowed the hot, sweet and bitter liquid and said, “So he knows where Becker is, then?”
“Yes, he managed to bug him whilst they had him in custody.” Peltz spoke without taking his gaze off the horizon, his eyes squinting in the low sun. To the north, behind them clouds were building, threatening to turn the day dank and miserable. “Once we have Namtar we will be heading to Wiltshire. The location that the GPS tab is pinging is in the middle of fucking nowhere. He's been hauled up in one place for the past few hours. Two things make me believe the others are there, too.”
“And they are?”
“Namtar said that the plane carried out a purposeful direction change whilst in flight and over the channel. The line to the point where he suspects the craft to be was straight, meaning he was aiming for that location. Also, there was plenty of fuel in it to go further. No, that bastard was heading somewhere specific. Secondly, he made directly on foot from the landing site to one location where he has been for some time. Lastly, it's remote, just the kind of place you'd expect no one to find you.”
Croaker nodded his head in agreement, it seemed like a reasonable and rational theory. He didn't want to mention what he knew Peltz was also thinking, that Becker may have found the tracker and be leading them on a hiding to nothing, or worse – a trap. Instead he drained the last of the coffee and tossed the cup over the quayside and into the water where it floated lazily on its side, being nudged back and forth by the gentle waves. The P&O car ferry was nearing the port, it was close enough now to see the small breakers crashing against the hull as it glided through the water, like some floating apartment block.
* * *
Namtar watched impatiently as the English coast grew steadily larger on the horizon. The clock was ticking but he had time. Time to get this done and get back t
o the Arkus 2 before zero hour. He wondered if Asmodeous would stick to his thirty hour deadline or afford him some breathing space. Mulling it over for a few minutes, he concluded that he probably wouldn't. Running the timescales in his head, Namtar worked out that he had taken the call from Asmodeous four hours ago, at six AM, which meant he was down to twenty six hours. Noting the number in his head he started the countdown timer on his phone. The flight back to the Arkus would take somewhere in the region of twenty hours aboard the Gulf Stream, and that was allowing for a fuel stop in Portugal on the way. So his window of opportunity was down to six hours. Six hours to find Becker, who he hoped would be with the others, and get them to Netheravon to meet the jet. It was cutting things close but it was achievable, yes, if things went to plan it was definitely achievable. He would be in Wiltshire within an hour and a half of rolling off the boat, plenty of time as long as Becker stayed put. He removed the tablet computer from his coat and checked. A few hours ago Becker had gone on the move, his original location, which Namtar had seen on street view as a small brick cottage, had changed. For some reason he'd moved half a mile away, down a small track to a building that he could only get an aerial satellite view of. He couldn't make out what it was, the place looked to be of moderate size and sat on the banks of the river or canal that wound its way through the tiny village. Having stayed in one spot for just over half an hour, Becker had returned to his original location, where he'd been for the past hour and a half or so.
A rather bored sounding voice came over the speakers and politely requested that all car drivers head below decks to their vehicles and prepare for docking. As if being first to his car would make the process faster, Namtar thrust the handheld computer into his pocket and rushed below decks to locate the French hired X5. He'd received word that everyone else, apart from the team sent to take care of the small Arkkadian cell, were suspected dead. Even Lilith's team had dropped off radar which was not good news. Earth-Breed were expendable, with his brother dead and Lilith also missing that left just himself and Asmodeous, two out of the hundreds that had been killed and captured during the Sheolian raids. Finding the vehicle with ease, he climbed into the driver's seat and clutched the steering wheel, feeling his blood boil in rage. He respected his orders and wouldn't kill either Becker, his wife or Fisher, but he would make them hurt. Oh yes, they were going to be in a world of hurt when he got his hands on them. They'd beg for death but he would not give it to them. He relished the prospect of making them watch as he killed the two Arkkadians, particularly the female, as he knew Fisher had feelings for her. He'd make Fisher watch as he cut her flesh over and over, giving her time to heal between each infliction, making each new wound more painful than the last. Then if she begged for death enough he'd show her mercy, but not before he'd had his fun. A thin, piscine smile formed on his lips as his imagination ran wild with the possibilities, his body felt rushed with an excitement that bordered on sexual as he played out each wondrous scenario in his head.
