Target: Nobody

by Tommy Donbavand

  “If it wasn’t an earthquake, what was it?” I asked.

  Kora cackled with delight again. “The world sped up!”

  I stared at her in astonishment. “What?”

  The witch tapped at a spike in the graph with a cracked fingernail. “The rotation of the earth increased in speed for ninety seconds.”

  “But … that’s impossible.”

  Kora screamed with laughter at my disbelief and danced on the spot.

  Feline studied the data on the screen. “She’s right,” he said. “At the equator, the earth spins at one thousand six hundred and fifty kilometres per hour. However, for a minute and a half this morning, the planet rotated at almost two thousand kilometres per hour.”

  I still couldn’t get my head around it. “But how?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” said Feline. “Any theories, Kora?” The witch wasn’t listening. She was still dancing a jig, her ragged skirt hitched up in her hands.

  Suddenly, Fangs screamed. “The hamster’s back,” he cried, pointing to a tiny rodent scampering towards us. “That one tried to burrow into my brain!”

  He made to run, but Feline leapt into his path. “That is not a hamster,” he hissed. “It is a mouse – and a highly valued MP2 agent as well.”

  “You mean he’s not going to try to get inside my skull?”

  “Not unless you annoy him,” said Feline. “This is Stavros Feta. He followed Miss Springs from the airport earlier.”

  The mouse clambered up the leg of the desk to sit in front of Feline, whiskers twitching. “I saw everythin’, innit,” he squeaked.

  “So, where did she go?”

  “To Lindos, guvnor,” said Stavros. “To the Acropolis.”

  Feline brought up a map of Rhodes on the computer. Lindos was a town in the south-east of the island. “The Acropolis is what is left of the Temple of Athena,” he explained, showing us a photograph. “It’s over two thousand three hundred years old.”

  Claret gasped. “That’s it! The Astounding Claret can see Cube’s energy line again, and it leads there.”

  “What’s at the Acropolis now?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” said Feline. “It’s a tourist attraction, and a place for couples to get married. Nothing sinister at all.”

  “That’s what you think, squire,” said Stavros. “Just you wait till you hear who Miss Springs met up there – the one she’s been ordering them crates of hamsters for.”

  “Why?” asked Feline. “Who is it?”

  Stavros paused dramatically. “Nobody.”

  Fangs blinked. “She’s been delivering these crates to nobody?”

  “That’s right,” said the mouse. “Mr Nobody.”

  His words had quite an effect. Feline Scamper recoiled. Kora stopped dancing and her face became pale green. The other witches in the laboratory froze, and one of them dropped a test tube that smashed on the stone floor.

  “No!” said Feline. “That’s impossible. He’s dead.”

  “Who’s dead?” asked Fangs. “Who’s Mr Nobody?”

  “Follow me,” said the cat. “I’ll show you.” He led the way to his office.

  I say “office” – it was more like the cat section of a pet shop. Feline curled up in a foam bed and lapped at a bowl of milk, while Claret, Fangs and I sat awkwardly on various scratching posts.

  “I don’t suppose you have any more milk, do you?” Fangs asked.

  Feline shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “This is the last of it, although you’re welcome to share…”

  For a moment, I actually thought Fangs was going to kneel down beside the cat and start lapping at the white liquid in the bowl – but instead, he just crossed his legs and shook his head.

  Meanwhile, Stavros had scurried over to a computer and entered his password to gain access to the MP2 network. It looked like he was tap dancing on the keyboard. He brought up the file for our suspect.

  “Mr Nobody was a right nasty piece of work, innit?” the mouse squeaked. “Extortion, money laundering, organized crime – you name it, this geezer had a hand in it.”

  “So, why would he need the hamsters?” I asked. “Some sort of experiment?”

  “Maybe,” Stavros said. “But he’s a criminal, not a scientist. He brings doctors, scientists, and what-not in to work for him whenever he needs ‘em. Whether they like it or not.”

  “That would explain why he might have kidnapped Cube,” Claret said.

  “But you said Nobody was dead,” I reminded Feline. “What happened? How did he die?”

  “He said it was going to be his biggest job,” Feline explained. “The one the criminal world would remember him for. He was going to be famous. Infamous. Stavros was our man on the inside…”

  “S’right, guvnor,” said the mouse, taking up the story. “Took months of me runnin’ errands and sortin’ out little problems for Mr Nobody to finally trust me.”

  Claret’s brow furrowed. “What kind of ‘little problems’?” he asked.

  The mouse shrugged – which was something I never thought I’d see.

  “The usual stuff,” he said. “If someone didn’t pay protection money, I’d sneak in and nibble through the electrical wiring in their shop or business. By the time the fire brigade arrived, there’d be nothin’ left to protect, if you catch my meanin’. The verdict was always fire caused by poor electrical maintenance.”

  “You burned down people’s businesses?!” I exclaimed. “That’s awful!”

  “I had to appear legit, didn’t I, sweetheart?” said Stavros. “I had to make Mr Nobody think I was someone he could rely on. And MP2 always reimbursed the victims for their losses, on the quiet like.”

  “You still haven’t told us how this guy died,” Fangs pointed out.

  “I’m gettin’ to that bit, ain’t I?” Stavros squeaked. “Like the boss said, it was gonna be Mr Nobody’s biggest heist. A bank job worth sixty million Euros.”

  “That’s a lot of money,” said Claret with a whistle. “Did the police get him?”

  “Nothing so simple, I’m afraid,” said Feline. “As Stavros had tipped us off about the robbery, MP2 were on hand to apprehend the villains – but we had to let them get into the vault and steal the money first so we had something to charge Mr Nobody with. He had a team of very expensive, very clever lawyers who could get him off just about everything.”

  “So what went wrong?” I asked.

  “No one knows, darlin’,” said Stavros. “Mr Nobody cracked the software that controlled the door to the bank’s vault. It was halfway open when it suddenly started to shut again. Mr Nobody was trapped in the middle and the door squeezed him stone dead.”

  “That’s horrible,” I said.

  “It wasn’t pretty, right enough.”

  “Could he have faked his own death?” asked Claret.

  Stavros shook his tiny head. “Nah, I saw the lot. It was real, all right.”

  “But you said Marmalade delivered the crate of hamsters to him today,” said Fangs. “If he’s dead, how is that possible?”

  Stavros fixed my boss with a hard, mousey stare. “Because he’s come back, guv,” he said. “Mr Nobody has come back as a ghost.”

  Tuesday 1428 hours: Lindos, Rhodes

  Fangs pulled a bottle of black pills from his pocket and popped one into his mouth. Cube had invented these for him. They contained the “essence of midnight”, and allowed a vampire to go out in the sun. My boss certainly needed them today. It was pushing 40 degrees Celsius. Not exactly the ideal weather for someone covered from head to toe in fur, either!

  Fangs offered his dad one of the pills.

  “I haven’t had one of these in years,” said Claret. “The Astounding Claret usually meets his clients at night.”

  “Well, the dark does provide a certain amount of anonymity for those who might be embarrassed about booking your services,” said Fangs.

  Feline had stayed at MP2, but had arranged for a car to drive us the few miles from
Headquarters to Lindos – a picturesque tourist village where every building was painted a brilliant white. Above us on a hill towered the ancient ruins of the Acropolis.

  “Cube is up there somewhere,” said Claret, pointing up at the monument. “The Astounding Claret can see his energy line as clear as day.”

  “Then that’s where we’re going,” I said. “According to Feline, it’s quite a steep walk up to the Acropolis. Holidaymakers rent donkeys to make the journey.”

  Fangs looked at me as though I’d gone insane. “A donkey?” he cried. “You won’t catch me on one of those things. I’d lose my cool.”

  We walked through narrow streets, lined with cafes, restaurants and gift shops. The Greek Islands had been among the signatories to the supernatural equality laws, and so the crowds of tourists included trolls, gremlins and ogres as well as ordinary humans. I even spotted a Minotaur enjoying a beer in one of the bars we passed.

  I launched a GPS app on my phone to get my bearings. “We need to follow this street to the end, then turn right to head up the trail to the Acropolis, boss,” I said. There was no reply. “Boss?”

  I looked up to find Fangs staring over a low wall to our left, his gaze fixed on the beach below. “Well, well … who do we have here?” he mused aloud.

  When Claret and I joined him, I immediately saw what he was looking at. Marmalade Springs was kneeling in the sand, digging a hole with a small, plastic spade.

  “Miss Springs could be our way inside the Acropolis,” said Fangs, leaping over the wall and striding across the beach towards her.

  “We’d better go with him,” said Claret. “He didn’t make the best first impression with her this morning.”

  I was about to point out that Claret hadn’t exactly hit it off with her either, but he had already jumped over the wall and was now running after Fangs, his purple cape flapping out behind him. I followed as quickly as I could.

  It was fair to say that Marmalade Springs didn’t look pleased to see us. After all, here were the two vampires who had knocked her off her feet at the airport – and they were about to accost her on the beach. She froze – if such a thing were possible in this heat.

  “What do you lot want?” she demanded.

  “To get to the bottom of something,” said Fangs. “This morning, when I asked who you were meeting, you said nobody. You meant ‘Nobody’ with a capital ‘N’. Mr Nobody, to be precise.”

  Marmalade’s terrified eyes darted around the beach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do,” I said. “And I’m asking for your help. We have to speak to Mr Nobody; we believe he knows where our friend is.”

  “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

  “OK,” said Fangs. “Let’s start at the beginning. Why are you here, building sandcastles?”

  “I’m not building sandcastles,” said Marmalade. “I’m digging up pebbles.” She gestured to a red bucket beside her. It was filled to the brim with smooth stones.

  “OK,” said Claret. “What are you collecting pebbles for?”

  “A scientist needs them,” said Marmalade quietly.

  “A scientist?” I asked. “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know,” Marmalade admitted. “I’m sorry about your friend, but I really shouldn’t be talking to you…” She turned to leave, but Fangs grabbed her arm.

  “This scientist,” he said, “what shape is his head?”

  “It’s square – which is very odd. Now, I’ve told you enough. I have to go…”

  “Cube!” exclaimed Claret. “It has to be. I told you he was here.”

  “Can you get us inside the Acropolis?” I asked.

  Before Marmalade could reply, the sand around her began to shift, and there was a sound I’d heard before…

  CLICK! SNAP! CRACK! SNICK!

  “Oh no!” she cried. “They’re here!”

  Suddenly two skeletons rose up from beneath the sand. Marmalade screamed and ran out into the sea. The two skeletons pulled something large and white from the hole they’d created. It was a raft built out of shining white bones – presumably taken from one or more of their colleagues.

  Marmalade tried to swim away, but the skeletons were too fast. They pushed Marmalade onto the raft and kicked their fleshless legs against the tide, heading further out to sea.

  Claret, Fangs and I plunged into the surf to swim after her when two more of the Bone Boys rose up out of the water in front of us.

  “Get out of our way!” Fangs yelled.

  But the skeletons didn’t move. Instead, they each ripped off an arm bone and began to beat my boss with them like clubs.

  “Ow! Ow! OW!” yelled Fangs. “That really hurts.”

  “I’ll take that, thank you,” cried Claret. He snatched the bone from the nearest attacker and hurled it out to sea. The skeleton lunged at him, wrapping its thin fingers around his throat and pushing him beneath the waves. I was about to help when the second skeleton turned and pounced on me.

  My vision blurred as I was forced beneath the water. The skeleton wasn’t strong, but he did have an advantage in that he didn’t need to breathe. All he had to do was keep me under the surface for long enough and the sea would do the rest of the work for him.

  The water churned beside me as Claret wrestled with the other skeleton. Fangs was trying to help him while still holding our Spookie award out of the water. He swung it back, and hit the skeleton on the head with the trophy, knocking his skull clean off. The assassin went limp and fell back to bob gently on the surface of the sea.

  So the Bone Boys had a weakness after all! Knock their heads off and they couldn’t fight any more. The knowledge gave me hope and a burst of energy.

  I forced myself up to the surface and sucked in a long lungful of air. “You know,” I said, glaring at my attacker. “You really shouldn’t wave a bone about in front of a little doggie like me.” Then I opened my jaws and clamped my teeth around the skeleton’s neck bone. I shook the bad guy from side to side until, with a satisfying CLICK!, his skull fell off.

  A scream pierced the air, and I turned to see the two skeletons dragging Marmalade out of the water and up the beach. The two became three as the Bone Boy who had formed the raft put himself back together again. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before the two skeletons in the water with us found and reattached their skulls. We had to move fast.

  “Let’s get after her!” cried Fangs.

  “What if these guys come after us?” Claret asked.

  Fangs snatched a skull that happened to be floating past. He wedged it tightly inside the ribcage of the nearest Bone Boy. “They haven’t got the guts,” he snarled.

  Tuesday 1458 hours: Lindos, Rhodes

  We ran for the path that led up to the Acropolis, dodging between tourists, and were just in time to see the bad guys put Marmalade onto the back of a donkey that was manned by the final Bone Boy. The animal took off at top speed as the other skeletons disappeared into the crowd.

  Fangs, Claret and I jumped on long-eared steeds of our own – although my boss didn’t look very happy about it. Still, we had to save Marmalade. We couldn’t allow her to be hurt for talking to us.

  Most tourists take the winding, cobbled streets up to the Acropolis at a slow, leisurely pace so they can enjoy the sights and take photographs of the stunning views. But we didn’t have that luxury. Digging our heels into the donkeys’ sides, we galloped up the street, shouting at holidaymakers to get out of the way.

  Our donkeys, used to more sedate movement, appeared to relish the chance to finally let loose, and they ran faster and faster, their hooves clattering against the cobbles. I’ve travelled in a lot of unusual ways since joining MP1, but this had to be the strangest.

  Before long, we caught sight of Marmalade and her donkey ahead of us. Claret pulled on his reins, urging his donkey on.

  Fangs was lagging behind, though. His donkey was wheezing hard, its nostrils flared. After one final loud bray,
it sank to the ground, exhausted.

  “Get up!” shouted Fangs, pulling the reins – but it was no good. His ride was over. Cursing, he leapt off the back of the beast and ran after Claret and me.

  Our donkeys ran on, scattering a wedding party on their way up to the chapel near the top of the hill. Guests screamed as we charged through them. A woman I took to be the mother of the groom gave Claret a clout on the back of the head with her handbag.

  Marmalade’s donkey had reached the top of the hill. Her skeletal kidnapper pulled her towards a set of ancient stone pillars at the far end of the ruins. Claret and I jumped off our own donkeys and gave chase.

  The skeleton reached the first pillar and slid the bone of its index finger into a metal sphere drilled into the stone. A hidden doorway opened in the rock and the bad guy pushed Marmalade inside.

  I’d seen that type of lock before; they’re called isomorphic, and they’re impossible to crack. The lock will only open when activated by registered DNA – something skeletons do have. If your genetic code isn’t listed in the computer database, the lock simply won’t open for you.

  The door was already sliding shut. We weren’t going to make it – unless…

  I pulled a screwdriver from my utility belt and threw it. It clattered to the ground, rolled and wedged in the gap, stopping the door from closing by just a few centimetres.

  “Good shot!” said Claret.

  “Thanks,” I said, hooking my claws around the stone portal and beginning to pull. Even with Claret helping me, forcing the door back open by hand was difficult, and it was a few minutes before we had created a space large enough to squeeze through. We couldn’t see anything in the darkness beyond.

  Fangs staggered up to us. His normally crisp, white shirt was slick with sweat.

  “What kept you?” asked Claret.

  “The world’s only asthmatic donkey,” Fangs replied. “Still, it was a wheeze.”