The Second Renaissance Series Boxset

by Paul Heron

  He thought of his mother, Niamh. She was like Elisabetta – a strong lady. Certainly strong enough to hold her own in a male-dominated world. He thought of how proud she would be of her son, working hard to do something that a strong lady died for centuries ago. That lady, Elisabetta; was she a goddess, would she rule the Otherworld? This secretly played on his mind and the of wonder why she was so interested in him. None of it made sense.

  His breathing deepened and he opened his eyes. His parents couldn’t see him, but he knew Elisabetta could. He knew she had faith in him. And so, he coached himself to have faith. He looked up at the sky. Stars dotted across the black canvas. Then suddenly, like before, the stars merged. A giant set of white, lifeless eyes appeared in the sky, taking up more space than the moon. The ground shook for a moment. Then it ceased, and the eyes dispersed. Stars scattering across the sky again.

  ‘Screw you too, Donn. And I don’t need anyone else. I can do this myself.’

  The wind picked up and whistled in his ear.

  He jumped as someone spoke into his ear. ‘Together, amigo.’ It was Eduardo. Clearing his throat, he placed his hand on Michael's shoulder. He sat down on the wall beside him. ‘We’re in this together, remember?’

  ‘We’re with you, chief,’ Mohammad said, sitting down on the other side of Michael. ‘I know your dad needs Mohammad, king of the jungle.’

  ‘The tiger’s the king of the jungle, dipshit,’ Carolina said. Kissing Michael on top of the head, she sat down beside Mohammad.

  He looked to his left and to his right, then looked straight ahead, back out to sea. Nothing was said for a moment. He just smiled. Secretly grinning, he felt together they were unstoppable.

  ‘So, what’s the plan?’ Marcel asked. ‘You know, without George’s support, we’ve got a lot of work to do ourselves?’ He took his phone out. ‘French team adventure photo.’

  ‘We’ll figure it out.’ Michael smiled for the group selfie. ‘It’ll be difficult without George, but as long as we stick together we-’

  ‘You don’t need to figure it all out by yourselves,’ George said, he and Scarlett joining them. He tapped Michael on the shoulder. ‘I hope you know the risk you’re taking.’

  ‘If it was your dad, what would you do?’

  ‘Good point,’ George said, joining them on the wall, followed by Scarlett. ‘Let’s get a good night sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll get your dad and the fragment.’

  ‘But Michael,’ Scarlett said, sounding more serious. ‘Your father cannot know it’s you who gets him. You’ll need to cover yourself and remain silent.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Michael said. He looked across the group – lined up on the wall like sitting ducks. He gave George a smile of gratitude. George smiled back. They all sat there watching the moon light ripple off the waves.

  ‘Can we go to the beach tomorrow?’ Eduardo said, looking at his phone. ‘It’s going to be warm, according to weather forecasts.’

  ‘Sand castles?’ Ajit shouted. ‘I want to build a French sandcastle!’

  Dr Rizzo cleared his throat from the patio doors. ‘Mr Charvet has been given the antidote.’ He gestured for them to come in. ‘I’m not sure if it’s worked, but it’s in his system.

  ‘Let’s go find out where the French fragment is, then we’ll plan tomorrow,’ Michael said, spinning around and hopping off the wall.

  Chapter Twelve

  THEY ENTERED THE ROOM where Charvet had been moved to. It was a well-kept room in the corner of the mansion’s first floor. It was so tidy and perfect it was boring. But the reason for that was so he couldn’t identify it and give away the location. For all Charvet knew, the waves crashing outside were off the coast of Ireland.

  Michael walked in directly behind George. Charvet looked dazed, hungover perhaps. He looked at Michael. After the broadcast from the jungle, Michael was easily recognisable.

  ‘The famous guy who shut down satellites.’ Charvet laughed. ‘I’m in awe,’ he said sarcastically. ‘What a hero.’ He spoke in English.

  ‘You don’t know the half of it, President,’ Michael responded in French. ‘All I can say is sorry. Sorry for all of this. Sorry this happened to you.’

  ‘What do you know about Mancini Corporation?’ Sofia asked in French. Michael translated for the rest of the group. ‘They are dangerous, for all of us. And the precious fragment that Pietro Mancini sold to the French King in 1665 needs to come with us. Now!’

  ‘Mancini Corporation introduced themselves at the recent UN meeting in Austria. They believe they have discovered a new form of energy. Something that will help our planet more than any form of nuclear or renewable energy.’ He laughed. ‘They made it very believable. We all laughed at the beginning of the meeting, but they eventually began to convince us.’

  ‘Yeah, probably after drinking something,’ Mohammad mumbled.

  ‘Man, all of you world leaders have got us into some mess!’ Eduardo said. ‘You’ve made a mess.’

  ‘And now we,’ Carolina said, looking around at everyone. ‘We have to fix it.’

  ‘The beautiful Ms Couture has been asking me where this old stone is and-’

  ‘Did you tell her?’ Scarlett shouted.

  ‘Of course,’ Charvet laughed. ‘They’re wasting their time. It’s useless. But Ms Couture believes this piece of stone was taken from this so called source of energy and wants to check it.’

  ‘Where is it?’ Michael asked, clinching his jaws.

  ‘It’s in Marseille.’ Charvet looked at Michael with narrowed eyes. ‘So, one minute you’re hijacking satellites and now you’re committing theft? Your parents must be so proud of-’

  ‘You mention them again and I’ll throw you through that wall,’ Michael shouted, this time in Irish, with only Sofia understanding what he said. But Charvet and the group got the meaning to what he was saying.

  ‘Easy, bro. Come on, amigo,’ Eduardo said, tapping Michael softly on the shoulder.

  ‘Okay, where in Marseille is the fragment?’ Scarlett asked, sitting down next to Charvet, crossing her arms and legs.

  ‘It’s at La Vieille Charité, and I’m going to have it examined, along with the beautiful Couture tomorrow. But I-’ He sniggered to himself. ‘I know the value of it, it's useless.’

  ‘I wish you were right,’ Ajit said. ‘Our lives would all be much simpler if you were.’

  ‘Okay. I’m growing tired of this whole act.’ Marcel shouted. ‘Quit playing games. It’s important that we get our hands on it. Before Couture gets it. You know why. Stop acting stupid.’ He looked at George. ‘I don’t think the antidote has done anything for him. He hasn’t changed at all.’

  ‘It may take a while for it to work,’ George said.

  ‘We don’t have time, George. You know that more than any of us.’ Marcel shouted.

  ‘Why should I help a bunch of satellite hijacking kidnappers?’ Charvet sniggered. He looked at Scarlett, who was beaming red. Her eyes were glazed over like a woman enraged.

  ‘Scarlett...’ George said, looking at her as if he was looking at a time bomb ready to explode.

  Scarlett pulled her pistol out of it’s holster from inside her jacket. ‘We’ll soon see if he’s a Fomorian or not.’

  Charvet looked at her as she raised the pistol and pointed it at him. ‘Don’t be so silly.’

  ‘These aren’t normal bullets. They’re made from a special type of metal.’ She smiled at him sadistically. ‘If you’re human, it’ll only hurt like hell. If you’re a Fomorian, you’ll be sent back to the Otherworld, where you’ll eventually be slaughtered by the Tuatha de Danann along with the rest of your gang.’

  ‘You’re out of your damn mind.’ Charvet shouted, his hands in the air, trembling. ‘Put that bloody gun down now.’

  ‘We’ve got all we need for now, President. We shall have you on your way back to Paris within the hour.’ George stepped in front of Scarlett, lowering her weapon. He gestured for everyone to leave the room.

  Michael loo
ked at Scarlett, and then at Sofia. Something was wrong with her. Maybe news about Anthony?

  They entered the kitchen again. ‘I’ll make some coffee,’ Michael said. ‘We’re all exhausted. And it doesn’t look like things are going to slow down anytime soon.’

  ‘I’ve received a message from Pierre,’ George said. ‘He’s watching Couture at their location. They’re back at the warehouse. Ajit, you have it bugged, right?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Ajit ran across the kitchen, grabbing his laptop from his backpack. He planted himself on a seat at the table, grinning. ‘Ms Couture, big brother L’amico is watching you.’ He flipped the laptop open while everyone joined him. He looked up at Scarlett. ‘I thought you were going to blow him away with that gun.’

  ‘I was.’ Scarlett.

  ‘Until one of you can learn how to shapeshift, we need him to go back,’ George said. ‘Keep up appearances. The fragment is our first priority. And if the antidote works on him, he’ll no longer be a threat.’

  Michael served the coffee, along with tinned fruit salad from the fridge. He hoped within the next twenty-four hours, they would have the French fragment returned to Bruce’s Cave. But more importantly, to him at least, was knowing his father was safe.

  ‘Okay, listen up,’ Ajit said.

  They were all glad to hear Couture saying that they needed the president back before they did anything else.’

  ‘Looks like we’re not sleeping tonight,’ Michael said, looking around the table. ‘We go to the museum. Tonight. We break in and we take the fragment. It appears we'll break countless laws in pursuit of these fragments.’

  ‘It’s a thirty-minute drive from here to the museum,’ Marcel said, scrolling down through his phone. ‘So, lets get going.’

  ‘I’m making another pot of coffee,’ Michael said. ‘Ringo, Ahmad and Alban? Where are they?’

  ‘They had to fly Nicole to Paris. They’re on their way back,’ Scarlett said, still with a hint of anger in her voice. ‘We can drive into Marseille. When Alban gets back, he can take the president back to Paris.’

  ‘How are we getting into the museum,’ Mohammad said, rubbing his eyes. ‘I know there’s a sense of urgency and that, but we should try and make as little noise as possible.’ He got up and walked to the patio door to let some fresh air in. ‘This is a lot of work. I need a rest!’

  ‘Serious Mohammad?’ Carolina teased. ‘What have you done with joker Mohammad?’ She pelted a grape at him.

  ‘He’s just tired,’ Ajit said. ‘He always becomes “Captain Serious” when he hasn’t slept.’

  George’s phone rang. Immediately putting it on loudspeaker, he shouted. ‘Nicole?’

  ‘I’ve heard they have brought Michael’s dad to the warehouse. I'm on my way there now. I’ll be meeting Pierre and Avril there.’

  Michael dropped a cup of coffee and ran to the table, leaving the coffee pooling on the worktop. ‘You guys don’t move from the warehouse, okay? We’ll get there as soon as possible,’ he shouted.

  A deathly silence fell over the kitchen. But to Michael’s relief, the silence ended with the thumping sound of Alban’s Black Hawk making an attempted landing in the grounds. ‘We’re on our way now. Don’t move. If they leave, follow them and keep us updated.’ Michael looked around the table, his heart pounding and eyes watering, hoping he had the support from the rest. ‘Change of plans? We go to the museum after we get...’

  ‘Let’s go get your dad.’ Sofia finished. ‘We’ll get the fragment before the museum opens in the morning.’

  ‘Let’s go kick some Mancini ass, amigo,’ Eduardo shouted. Everyone followed as Michael ran to his room to get his backpack.

  Just as Ringo and Ahmad jumped out of the chopper, Michael quickly greeted them, and told them what was happening. They all jumped in and took their seats. Alban was complaining about being tired so, to everyone’s surprise, Scarlett took the role of pilot.

  ‘Scarlett? You’re a dark horse, aren’t you?’ Marcel laughed. ‘Teach me to fly.’

  ‘We have plans for you to take driving and flying lessons, in time. The deeper we get into this, the more dangerous it’s going to get,’ George said. ‘We need to have all of you functional in different operations.’

  ‘Let’s just get this done. One step at a time,’ Carolina shouted.

  ‘It’s only one hour and thirty minutes until we arrive,’ Scarlett said. ‘And Michael, your father must not know it’s you in there; in fact, any of you. We can’t compromise the mission. It would put your parents and us in too much danger if too many people knew about what we’re doing.’

  ‘I’ll call Nicole,’ George shouted. ‘See if she can get masks for you to wear to cover your faces.’

  ‘What kind of masks,’ Michael asked.

  ‘Probably ski-masks,’ George shouted.

  ‘I seen this movie once, where bank robbers wore rubber masks of dead American presidents,’ Eduardo laughed, running his fingers through his hair.

  ‘I know what you mean, great idea.’ Michael laughed.

  ‘I’ll speak to Nicole,’ George shouted, pulling his mobile out and putting in his headphones to drown out the noise.

  Michael sniggered at the thought of them wearing masks as world leaders in an attempt to save the world from the world leaders. For a second, he could see the novelty in the idea. He looked at Eduardo, who was grinning proudly.

  He looked around the helicopter and saw excitement on the faces of the rest. If not comfortable with what they were doing, they seemed to be getting more used to it. But Michael knew the worst thing they could do was become complacent. From his experience in the jungle, he knew he couldn’t afford to let his guard down. The Mancini Corporation was not an organisation to be underestimated.

  ‘Nicole said she will see what she can do with the masks,’ George shouted. ‘But Michael, what you’ve gotta realise is we’re getting your dad outta there by any means necessary. It could easily become volatile. You’ve demanded you’re taking the lead to get him out of there. Well, you need to allow us to help you, and that means allowing me to utilise our resources to the best of our ability.’

  ‘Understood and thank you.’

  Michael knew what George was saying was right. He closed his eyes trying to remain calm. In the next two hours, his father was going to be saved by his son and wouldn’t even know it was him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  MICHAEL FELL ASLEEP, for how Long, he wasn’t sure. But he woke with the feeling of the chopper making a descent. The landing was certainly smoother than Alban’s attempts. Michael looked at Mohammad, who was looking at Alban, just bursting to comment.

  ‘Why can’t you land like that?’ Ajit shouted before Mohammad had a chance to say anything – much to Mohammad’s regret – Ajit had stolen his moment.

  ‘Shut up!’ Alban shouted, his eyes closed, his arms folded trying to retain some heat in his tired state. ‘I was never taught properly how to land an aircraft.’

  ‘Alban, you’ve been taught a million times,’ Scarlett shouted from the cockpit. ‘You have a mental block somewhere that tells you not to land, and you end up making a complete hash of the job.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Alban repeated, his eyes still closed.

  Michael wasn’t paying much attention to the discussion. He had his serious hat on and was thinking of nothing other than his father. He wondered did his secret desire to see his dad in France come into reality simply because he wished it to; causing him to be kidnapped, forcing him to step in and save him. One week ago, he would have laughed off luck, bad luck, or any form of occurrence which a human can not explain or back up with evidence. But when you have contact with a lady who died over three hundred years ago, you tend to find things beyond the realm of possibility more believable.

  Michael got up and slid open the door of the Black Hawk. Hitting him in the face was the smell of freshly cut grass, a nice reminder of spending the summer holidays on his grandparent’s farm. He jumped out and reali
sed they were at the top of that vertical-drop-of-a-hill they were at earlier.

  A black Renault van with no windows on the rear doors sat idle. Nicole was the driver.

  ‘Get in the back,’ she shouted. ‘The sliding door’s open and there’s a nice surprise inside.’

  Michael slid the door open to find masks with each of their native country’s leaders. He grinned when he picked up the rubber mask of Oisin Mc’Laughlin. He jumped in, followed by the rest, all of them falling over themselves laughing when they picked their masks.

  ‘Can I be an Irish minister?’ Mohammad joked. ‘He’s more handsome than the Pakistani one.’

  ‘You would make some Irish minister, man!’ Michael laughed. ‘How about when this is all over, and we’re voted in to lead our countries, we all nominate Mohammad to be the first Pakistani minister of Ireland. Maybe a change is what is needed.’

  They took off and the laughter soon settled. Everyone went quiet as George received a call from Pierre. The sound of the van’s 2.2 litre engine was the only thing to kill the silence.

  ‘Pierre?’ George put his phone on loudspeaker.

  ‘George. I'm waiting here for you to arrive. Avril will be along soon. We will get Michael’s father back tonight. They have not moved. I’m just checking in on you.’

  ‘We’ll be there in a few minutes,’ Michael shouted across the van towards the phone.

  ‘L’amico is ready to shut down communications,’ Ajit confirmed from the laptop.

  ‘Ajit, you can stay in the van and monitor that,’ George said.

  ‘Listen to their conversations. Maybe it can give us a clue as to what they’re talking about?’ Carolina suggested.

  ‘Try to listen out for any mention of Marseille,’ Sofia added.