Spiral of Hooves

by Roland Clarke

  Armand smiled and then said, “Next time then, we take her and any other hostiles out. Oreillard, shooter profile, please.”

  “Light and tall, I’d say a woman. The range was at a dart gun’s limit—one hundred thirty metres. She’s good, in fact, a pro. Even game park vets don’t shoot at that distance.”

  “My internet searches show she’s married,” said Ouistiti. “And this explains some of her motivation. Patrick Yudan Harfang married Doctor Velinda Luisa Maria Jardero on Thursday, May thirty-first, at Owlhead Stud, British Columbia in a private ceremony. The story was leaked to the media yesterday.”

  “Shit, perfect alibi while her driver tries to kill me. Damn her. She threatens to go to Harfang and then marries him. The evil snake is after everything.”

  “Or he is. I tracked the horses sent from Hazelmead—to Owlhead,” said Ouistiti. “It's a remote mountain location, but the transmitter signal is now dead.”

  “Found or failed?” asked Armand. “They may have identified us."

  “Other than the incursion into the valley, there have been no attempts to breach our security. My adaptations to our military spec make it hard to intercept our transmissions, but I'll keep monitoring all the suspects. Hareng Rouge is still active.”

  “So, we can still plant misleading information and decipher passwords—good,” said Loup. “Shame I didn't infect Patrick Harfang with the Trojan.”

  “Bastard had Lina kill Gilles and then bought the ranch Gilles dreamed of.”

  “Owlhead must have been named after the place where Gilles skied, his favourite hill. Harfang is asset stripping Boissard Équestre, unless...”

  Armand pointed at Gilles’s name on the whiteboard.

  Carly nodded. “I'm an idiot. Harfang was the castle in ‘The Silver Chair’, one of the Narnia books. The giants in the castle were as two-faced as Vecheech.”

  “And Harfang is the codename for a military drone,” said Armand. “But more crucially, French for a snowy owl—the official bird of Québec.”

  “And Vecheech?” asked Carly.

  “Search threw up a Slovakian town,” said Ouistiti. “Meant to make us think that was the origin.”

  Armand punched his hand. “Merde, it's an anagram of Chevêche, the little owl.”

  “Gilles is alive, the bastard,” said Carly clenching her fist then standing up, knocking her chair over. “He’s a devious, manipulative… jerk! Does he think I feel nothing?”

  She stomped over to the fridge and grabbed some milk, then strode back to the table, aware that everyone was watching. She drank the milk in one long gulp.

  “Sorry, rant over—until I see the bastard, then he’ll wish he had died. He never tried even once to contact me, not bloody once. What was he planning?”

  Although, Gilles had given her Wanda and the strange will was really a transfer of ownership – with terms. Was that action a cryptic message? Or more likely, it was his guilt over destroying her dreams to be with Lina. Or was it another business manoeuvre?

  Faucon nodded and held his hands up. “His manipulations have cost lives and complicated everything. He’s fooled everyone. Never believe what you see, whether it’s a bookworm, or a scientist, or a playboy...”

  “A playboy who enjoyed extreme sports from skiing to the scuba diving that allowed him to escape his faked death. Gilles fits the profile, although he had the alibi of his meeting with Roman, when my cousin, Odette was killed.”

  Armand added red lines from all the incidents to Lina’s name, but then wrote “Marksmanship—?” to one side “Prioritise any investigation that reveals Lina’s past. All we know is that she graduated from high school, worked for various veterinary and supplement companies before getting straight As at McGill.”

  “Where she persuaded Gilles to hire her, bloody perfect. Now she’s stalking me. I so want her dead.”

  “My cousin’s killer might deserve death, but we can’t resort to murder ourselves, whoever it is.”

  “Apologies, Renarde, he’s right, there are other ways,” said Mouflon who had come off duty and walked into the room. “But we can’t forget Bête, Mick Roper. The gendarmerie might have to let him go. A legal challenge by a Paris lawyer could nullify provincial law.”

  “Also, Loup and I found Roman’s dart. Initial analysis showed traces of a drug—insulin,” said Faucon.

  “I was the bloody target. That’s crazy. My pump would counteract an extra dose.”

  “No, this insulin seems to have been a modified hybrid tailored to you.”

  “The bastard lied—he wanted me dead.”

  Roman had always hated her, even before she won Saumur. He blamed her for Gilles destroying Boissard Équestre.

  “The Hareng Rouge derived evidence shows Vidarranj had their scientists modify insulin,” said Ouistiti, looking up from her laptop.

  “So, could Lina, the witch, using Vecheech’s resources.”

  “But she saved you and Sorcière. Mick was the one there backing up Roman, for Vidarranj,” said Faucon. “They don’t want you killed, but if they can aggravate your diabetes, Renarde, you might sell the mare, regardless of any agreement with Vecheech.”

  Carly wasn’t sure that she would sell but feared that someone could persuade her, if her diabetes got complicated. The Zoos had to stop the threat before that occurred.

  “I don’t think Roman or Mick knew about the terms,” said Loup. “Their plan was blackmail, probably with a financial inducement as well. I’m sorry, Vix, but they feel another rider can replace you. Vidarranj already deals with some top yards.”

  “You mean I’m expendable, which Lina said to my face.”

  “Replace doesn’t mean they want to kill you. Anyway, we won’t let them.” Armand pulled down a second whiteboard and wrote, “Lina, Gilles/Harfang and Mick,” each one at the head of a column, then continued, “We need to entice the first two into a trap, which will draw in Mick if he’s released. We can’t use this location; it’s compromised.”

  “Okay, I’ve the perfect answer, we leave so I can compete at Bramham.”

  “Vix, no, I won’t risk losing you. There has to be an alternative.”

  Nobody offered any, and the silence signified agreement with Carly.

  “You hardly need to send invites. They’ll come. I’m not going to hide until this has all blown over. You taught me, Loup, that we must face the past. They’re all my past—Mick, Gilles and Lina. Gilles especially needs to explain himself. Why on earth give me Wanda when he’s Harfang?”

  “Because he needed the mare to have the best rider. And you’re right, hiding never works, as Loup knows,” said Ouistiti, “and Project Pegasus must have a deadline. If not, why Roman’s desperation? It’s more than just anger at Carly’s success.”

  Armand looked distraught, so Carly threw her arms around him and kissed him, knowing he had to agree. She had trapped him.

  “Okay, I recognise your logic. Roman’s irrational and reacts aggressively, but Mick was Vidarranj’s henchman and controlled Roman. Mick’s central to Project Pegasus, and it’s the key.”

  “So, we go to Bramham.”

  “Yes. Just be glad we'll have more of the Zoos troupe available at the weekend. We must leave tonight, plus we still need to know who Lina is. Any more info, Ouistiti?”

  “Nothing yet. US military is still searching under all her names. They had checked if she served in the Nicaraguan forces like her father, a major with the contras. But they found nothing.”

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  Carly was relieved that they were going to Bramham, but angry that Lina was remaining elusive. That had to be more leads to her scheming. “Project Pegasus?” she asked. “Does that lead anywhere? The encrypted links?”

  “I’ve tried variations on Perseus, Pegasus, and Medusa. I even tried a symmetric algorithm to bypass the firewall.”

  “Why not try Bellerophon? He rode Pegasus to kill the Chimaera,” said Carly, her Classical memories surfacing.

  A flurry of keys
trokes later, a log progress bar started creeping up. Then, a new Vidarranj page appeared on her screen.

  Armand turned to Ouistiti at her laptop.

  “Are those the hidden pages?”

  “Just the one showing that Pegasus has two phases—Pegasus and Chimaera. First, breeding super-horses... which seems to have floundered after the death of the clones...”

  “So, they need Wanda to discover why they died? Run tests on her?”

  “That's what Vidarranj’s experts think. They have instructed Mick Roper to acquire her in the next few days, by whatever means necessary—price no object.”

  “And Phase Two, Chimaera?”

  “To market the contaminated GM feed,” said Ouistiti. “To undermine those studs not connected to Vidarranj or their associates—that launches in exactly a week.”

  “The deadline you feared, so we have to act at Bramham,” said Armand.

  “Wait, there is another section. In which Mick Roper gives his CV.”

  “Weird-like but typical Mick,” said Carly. “Self-obsessed.”

  “Says here that he was in the Parachute Regiment—2 Paras—before Vidarranj recruited him.” Armand leant over Ouistiti’s shoulder as she read the rest. “An expert marksman with mountain experience in Norway and Canada.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the Mick who struggled with Outward Bound.” This exposure reminded Carly of unwrapping Mick’s present. Boxes within boxes, intended to confuse or hide the truth?

  “But if this is genuine,” said Faucon, “the British authorities will need concrete evidence before they arrest him.”

  “Merde, I should have guessed,” said Armand. “Pegasus is the magazine of The Paras because the British Airborne Troops in World War II had the insignia of that guy on Pegasus attacking something with a spear.”

  “That’s the guy I mentioned, Bellerophon slaying the Chimaera.”

  “Apologies, Renarde, that wasn’t the password. I hacked in with my algorithm, except it only opens one... this part of the site is strange...”

  “How?” asked Faucon.

  “Neither file is part of the main site. Either Mick ran this from his home location, not from Vidarranj’s mainframe, or...”

  “You mean like our system?” asked Faucon. “Decentralised to deter hackers and strengthen the network?”

  “Yes. Or...”

  “Lina planted the evidence. The viper invented this CV to deceive us. Mick’s not paras, but she’s Bellerophon.”

  “Renarde is right. The name means slayer with a projectile, dart, javelin, needle, arrow, or a bullet,” said Mouflon and bowed to Carly, as his brother had done to her at Saumur. “As she said, deception. Chimaera is an impossible fantasy, like perhaps the super horse, although we know the GM rice bran has genetic side effects.”

  “Let the authorities decide if this is fact when we give them all the files we have, plus the evidence to link it to either Mick or Lina,” said Faucon. “Especially as Mick’s itinerary shows that he was in Canada when Odette died; at a feed symposium, on behalf of Vidarranj, talking about rice bran.”

  As Ouistiti continued typing, Carly noticed her changing the language, after reading about Bellerophon.

  The second file opened. “Ancient Greek spelling, Bellerophontes, and in Greek letters,” said Ouistiti. “You were both right – Renarde, Mouflon.” She scrolled down and then put a hand to her mouth. “Mon Dieu, Lina was an expert marksman in the US Marines, and trained others, before she was discharged for assaulting a superior officer. Then she took a private sniper course before enrolling at McGill. From there she joined Boissard Équestre.”

  “Merde, the two-faced scorpion. Does Gilles know? Is that why he’s with her, as Harfang?”

  “He knows, Loup. This document is a copy of her Vecheech profile,” said Ouistiti. “It looks as though Harfang’s planning a hostile take-over of Vidarranj, the company his father tried to side with.”

  “If Project Pegasus threatens Vecheech’s research, the simple solution is to undermine and discredit them, then buy their assets. Lina made that possible. As did Roman’s pride, thinking he was friends with Harfang. Idiot never recognised his son in disguise.”

  “Or the shark he had created,” said Faucon. “But Gilles, or perhaps we need to call him Harfang, took the family rivalry to another level.”

  “By recruiting Lina. The US Marines will confirm her profile in detail. Latest info received says she was in a Marine Junior Reserve Officers’ Training Corps course for three years, while at High School, as Luisa Jardero. The Marines will give us access to her records.”

  Carly wondered if she was ready to die for a horse. If Mick didn’t kill her, Lina would. There was an easy way out, retire and give Wanda back to Vecheech. That was what Gilles wanted, once Carly had made her valuable. Her retirement would thwart him. Or would Lina only accept death as her revenge?

  FIFTY-NINE

  The familiar surroundings of Bramham Park made Carly pleased to be back at her favourite British three-day-event, despite needing her invisible protection. The arena edged by busy trade stands on two sides, the views onto the cross-country winding through mature stands of trees, and the grand house, all welcomed her back. The crowd was growing, drawn by this majestic setting for four days of equestrian sport that culminated with the eventing finale and some pure show-jumping. It was a venue that would inspire anyone, and this time the challenging course was not the only test for her.

  Carly longed for a cool breeze. Neither her skin nor the ground was handling the heat wave well. The shade that the awning attached to their lorry provided was welcoming, as she sat on a folding chair.

  At least she would soon be back in action again, even if it were with only two horses, but all the worries were re-emerging about the real challenge. She faced a strong field, and all of them had probably prepared better for this competition.

  She was grateful that the organisers had agreed to let her do her dressage test late on Friday, the second day. After arriving at six p.m. following a nineteen-hour journey, Wanda would benefit from the brief rest.

  A black shape bounded over, dragging Loup behind him, who looked relaxed hiding behind his shades. Guinness sat down beside her, pink tongue hanging out.

  “So, you gave him a good run—hope he wasn’t chasing the deer? Dogs are meant to be on leads, at all times.” He winked as she asked, “Are they coming? Or did you hit them?”

  “Model of English manners, even if I was ready to kill them both. Lina said in five minutes. We need to get ready.”

  Everything around them had seemed normal. Horses were being tacked up, washed down, lunged and groomed. And riders were fretting, enthusing, eating burgers and drinking coffee. Carly wanted to look forward to the evening gatherings by the boxes, barbeques, buffets and wine. The Zoos deserved the reward; once she was free of the cloud blowing back over her life. Then there would be time to socialise, learn about Loup’s friends. It was beginning with some, like Blanculet. She felt relaxed with the therapist; the older sister she’d never had. First though, they had to confront the betrayers.

  As Lina and Gilles arrived, Carly smiled and greeted them as if they were still old friends. “Congratulations on the miraculous resurrection – and your marriage. Come inside.”

  Armand uncorked a bottle of Vin de Pays Cevennes and poured four glasses.

  “Nothing special, but perfect for toasting your union. Life is more civilised with this.”

  Carly hoped it would also unlock some secrets as well. She just had to keep smiling at the devious couple that had cheated her.

  “Surprised to get your email and learn you were coming, Vix. Brave return, or maybe foolish.”

  “For Vix, it was a necessity. Santé et bonne chance—to a successful event and a deserving winner.”

  “I may just be doing the CIC, but don’t know if I’ll be pushing Wanda, as I haven’t worked her much. So this is your chance, Gilles. Is Drac ready for this?”

  “He trav
elled well, yes. Might not be aiming for another four-star, but I’ll be pleased when Wanda gets there. Right, Lina?”

  Pleased, as when Wanda got there Vecheech would benefit through their foals. Lina must know that. But hopefully, she was confused at the welcoming reception, since she smiled and said, “That’s why you invited us here. You need our help, again.”

  “You removed one threat—Roman—although you just had to stop him.”

  Gilles looked at Armand. “I may have hated my father but not enough to kill him; it was an accident...”

  “The dart was meant to incapacitate him, but something went awry,” said Lina.

  “You didn’t know he was allergic? You must have his DNA like everyone else’s at Fenburgh.”

  “Why bother with his DNA? I needed to just monitor the ones that were at risk. I wanted to protect what was important, like Vix. So what happened to Mick then?”

  “Our gendarmerie arrested him, and he’s in jail but can’t be charged. So he may be released by Saturday. Do you think we can deter him?”

  “So, the Cadre needs my help. You cavalry guys are out of your depth, but I’ll help. I can neutralise him, easy.”

  Armand poured more wine, hiding any amusement as the trap opened.

  “What does Vecheech want for protecting Wanda?”

  “We have her foals, so we just need her to win with the best rider for her. So, we have to give her that chance.”

  “Thanks, Gilles, but tomorrow you have a chance to beat me.”

  “Amiga, even now the rivalry. Is that all Gilles means?”

  The Latina couldn’t hold her venom back, but Armand had taught Carly aikido well—use the attack.

  “Once, he meant more, but now I’ve moved on. I’ve a better deal. Can you say that? Have you got what you wanted?”

  “Yes, it’s all in Canada, or here beside me. I’m happy, Gilles needs me, and we share his vision—Owlhead, the horses, Vecheech. Could you do that or was your career the priority, Vix?”

  “Both—sharing everything including the career. So, was Odette in the way?”