The Second Renaissance Series Boxset

by Paul Heron

  Alban landed. The president must have been in a deep sleep as even with Alban's usual crash-landing, he didn’t wake up. This made it easier for them to move him into the house.

  Michael took the president’s tie off and wrapped it around his eyes, in case he woke. He opened the sliding door and jumped out, feeling the cool air hit his sweat soaked face. Marcel followed. Then Ajit and Guillermo. They all looked around the grounds, constantly feeling like they were under surveillance. They were, after all, the talk of the world. The global question was who the hell were they and what the hell were they up to.

  Michael reached in and grabbed the unconscious president by the foot, pulling him to the door. ‘We'll carry him to the house until he wakes up and then we can eat something. I’m starved.’ Michael and Marcel each got a side and lifted the dead weight out of the chopper.

  ‘A change of clothes would be good too!’ Marcel said. ‘I’m sweating like a racehorse.’

  ‘Here.’ Michael threw the president’s mobile to Ajit. ‘Maybe you can find something useful on this.’

  ‘Well done,’ Ringo shouted, shutting the door to the barn. ‘Was it hard?’

  ‘Well, we got offered a job,’ Marcel laughed.

  ‘By who?’

  ‘Rodriquez!’ Marcel and Michael carried the president towards the house.

  ‘But the salary wasn't what we wanted!’ Michael joked.

  ‘Okay, what about the piece of the sculpture? Are we seeing Bruce's Cave tomorrow?’

  ‘Hopefully,’ Michael said, entering the house. ‘Obviously Mancini agents know we're here now, so it’ll be a good idea to move fast.’

  Scarlett opened the front door. ‘You can leave our new friend in the room.’ She pointed at a door across the hallway. ‘Lock the door and come to the kitchen. We're cooking something. I’m sure you’re all starving.’ She marched towards the kitchen, then looked back. ‘And, Michael - they're broadcasting the message you sent from the jungle. They know we're in Spain.’

  Marcel looked at Michael as they brought the president into the room. ‘You're the talk of the world again!’ He tried to say confidently. ‘It's about to get interesting.’

  Michael tried to act cool. But it was hard when he felt the eyes of the world on him again. ‘It'll be alright. As Mohammad would say, we're the dream team!’

  They laid the president down on the bed of the luxurious room. It looked like a hotel suite. It had a four-poster bed, a mahogany desk with a chair on either side, a stretcher and a door that led into a bathroom. The Sirani Foundation was treating it’s VIP guests to the best of hospitality.

  ‘Right now, I just want something to eat and a hot shower!’ Michael said.

  ‘Yes, and maybe the beautiful Sofia to scrub your back as well,’ Marcel laughed, nudging Michael as they headed towards the kitchen. ‘She is fit though!’

  Michael laughed, ‘I know! Both Sofia and Carolina can scrub my back for me!’ He nudged Marcel back. ‘What’s the craic with you and Carolina anyway? Are you an item or what?’

  ‘We'll talk later,’ Marcel said as he led the way into the kitchen.

  It reminded Michael of the rustic kitchen from 17th century Tuscany. He was half expecting Storm to walk past the window and Elisabetta to sit down at the table with them, accompanied by the Irish gods. Then he felt an unnerving feeling. A tingle, then it came, the whisper in his ear ‘I'm always with you, Michael. Be careful.’ He stopped and thought about the words. Then he put it to the back of his mind.

  Michael and Marcel sat beside Mohammad and Eduardo. Ajit was at the end of the table glaring at his computer screen with crossed eyes, looking serious, then he smiled and put on some Indian pop music.

  Scarlett laughed as she brought a tray of bread rolls to the middle of the table. ‘Okay, eat up, I’m sure you’re all starving.’

  ‘Give me a plateful and I’ll bring it in to the president,’ Dr Rizzo said. ‘He'll be out cold for a while, but he'll be hungry when he wakes up.’

  AFTER SOME FOOD, MICHAEL went for a shower. A long hot shower was enough to relax his body, but still, his mind was awash with the screams of the Spanish president. He felt conflicted: he was doing all this because the world leaders were under the control of the Mancini Corporation – through no fault of their own – and the only way Michael and the rest could help the world was remove the leaders from power, before the people who voted them in fell to the same fate. Michael knew he'd be haunted by the president’s screams, but he was haunted by worse, so he’d handle it. He wanted to return the favour to Mancini Corporation for putting him in the position. So, he was aiming to become their walking nightmare.

  Michael stepped into the bedroom and hopped into his new suit. Snatching up the laptop, he sat on the bed. Checking the news, he saw himself again. The report said: The Irish man has done it again – in Spain. The president is missing! There is widespread condemnation of this act. If anyone has any information regarding the whereabouts of this man or any of his associates, please contact the authorities. This man is considered extremely dangerous and needs to be captured.

  Michael looked at his photograph on the news and felt his nerves kick in. He stood up and tried to walk it off. As he paced up and down his room, hoping the steps would walk the nerves away he stopped in front of the mirror on the wardrobe door. He walked closer to the reflection, looking himself in the eye. He felt the old Michael was leaving, getting further away, and he was afraid he could never return. He looked at the scar on his ear from his attack in Belfast and suddenly he felt differently. ‘Fuck it, would I want to go back to that?’ Then behind him on the wall came a shadow. A figure riding on the back of a unicorn. He spun around, and it was gone. He looked back in the mirror and the shadow had disappeared.

  A knock came at the door. ‘Are you okay?’ Scarlett popped her head in the door.

  ‘I'm all right,’ Michael said, still staring at himself in the mirror, absentmindedly looking through himself as if he was looking for answers.

  Scarlett walked into the room, closing the door behind her. She walked up behind Michael and looked at his reflection. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘What are we doing, Scarlett?’ He looked into her eyes – big mahogany gems – in the reflection as she stood behind him, looking over his shoulder into the mirror. ‘I’m tired, really tired.’ He turned to face her. ‘I want to continue, of course I won’t stop, but-' he pointed at his laptop screen. ‘Look at me? On the news. That man is becoming the enemy of everyone. The world is after me, Scarlett! I’ve done nothing wrong. I'm trying to help these people. I'm becoming the bad man!’

  Scarlett took Michael by the hand and pointed at the laptop screen, then spun him around. ‘This man, Michael – is you. You are him. The world needs you. These bloody politicians need you. Countries need you, Michael. The Sirani Foundation needs you. Elisabetta needs you.’ She kissed him on the cheek, then pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Your dad needed you in France and you stepped up. Remember last week at the shop, when we escaped in the underground tunnel. Remember how you panicked but found the strength to continue.’ She dropped her face, holding his gaze. ‘One day, when this is all over, people will talk about this for a long time. You will have a great story to tell.’ She gave him a hug. ‘Come on, handsome!’ They left the room to join the rest down the stairs.

  As they left the room, Mohammad was rushing down the hallway towards them. ‘Ajit's found something on Rodriquez’s phone. It’s great news, believe me, it’s great. Hurry up!’

  Chapter Seventeen

  THEY ENTERED THE KITCHEN to find everyone crowded around the laptop. Ajit was playing a conversation between Spanish President Perez and Diego Rodriquez. The reason Mohammad had been so excited quickly became clear.

  ‘Bullfighting?’ Michael looked at Mohammad who was in his element, clearly wanting to attend this event. ‘A bullfighting festival? But there isn't one this week. Is there?’

  Enrique entered the kitchen from outside. ‘Not u
sually.’ He sat down at the table. ‘We don’t have an annual bullfighting festival this week, but the president has spoken with the Spanish royal family and have agreed that a new annual day will be to celebrate the discovery of an important part of Spanish heritage. It appears they've all been discussing the fragment behind closed doors. So – tomorrow, Friday, will be the day the Spanish people will be presented with the piece of the sculpture. Sergio Perez – our wonderful president – has sold the idea that the piece is of great energy and he will look to discover more of this, believing Mancini Corporation has found it somewhere in Spain.’ He rubbed his temple, screwing his face up as if in agony.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Sofia asked. ‘Can you remember anything of what happened today?’

  ‘All I remember is walking down the street next to the palace and a car went flying passed me, skidding to a halt. Two men jumped out of the back and before I knew it, I was hit in the back of the head. So, there must have been a third walking behind me.’ He continued to rub his temple, now with his eyes closed.

  ‘Here, amigo. Get some of this down your neck!’ Eduardo poured a glass of water, handing it to Enrique.

  ‘Gracias,’ Enrique said. ‘And the next thing I remember is when I woke up here.’

  ‘But how?’ Eduardo looked at Michael. ‘You and Abbe destroyed the Dark Tree in the jungle?’

  ‘We did,’ Michael said, pouring himself a glass of water. ‘And it obviously angered Mancini Corporation at the time because they searched the jungle for us afterwards, wanting to take our heads clean off.’

  ‘Which was the reason we had to travel to Bonampak to deliver the message,’ Mohammad said. ‘Probably some Fomorian based spell, a charm trying to turn people into another one of their little minions.’

  ‘Okay, supper is ready,’ Maria said. ‘No more talk about this until we eat. Go and wash up, I'll set the table.’

  Ajit exhaled, sounding relieved. ‘And without elevating hopes, I may have found the location of the fragment!’

  ‘After we eat, please, Ajit!’ Maria said, sounding forceful. Of course, the Spanish were very much like the Italians who'd saw a meal time as sacred.

  AT TEN PAST TEN, MICHAEL received a call from George. And like every time George called, the room fell silent.

  ‘George, how’s it all going back at Little Camberly?’ Michael put his phone down on the table and activated loudspeaker.

  ‘Good evening, everyone.’ George paused for a second, sounding like he was drinking something. ‘First of all, great work today. Now, listen up, everyone. Tomorrow's Bullfighting festival – or in Spanish: corrida de toros is where you’ll need to go to find Mancini. Our sources have told me that Mancini agents have left Moncloa Palace today with the hope of retrieving the Spanish fragment. They're not one bit concerned about the president, for what they believe, if he dies, he’ll simply go to the Otherworld, and help the Fomorians there.’

  ‘Why is nothing ever easy with this group?’ Ahmad shouted, clinching his fists, his face turning red. ‘This is pissing me off!’

  ‘You need to go and walk that off then,’ Mohammad shouted. ‘Go and find something to punch because we don’t need your temper causing more problems like it always does.’

  ‘You shut your mouth, Mohammad!’ Ahmad screamed, thumping the table, causing his glass to topple over.

  ‘No, Ahmad,’ Marcel shouted. ‘He's right. You’re a liability, you and that temper of yours.’

  ‘You shut up, too.’ Ahmad jumped up from his seat, sending it crashing to the ground.

  ‘All of you relax,’ George said. ‘You see all this bickering – this is what they want. They want us to disagree and fall out. We’ve got to stick together.’ George stopped, the sound of a door closing echoed, as if he was either entering or leaving a room. ‘It's the only way we'll beat them. Together. We need everyone. Ahmad, we’ve got agents looking for your parents.’ He sighed. ‘The next time you want to fall out, or have an argument over something stupid, remember this: the Fomorians are coming. The people who control the world are under their control, so it’s literally us against the world. All of you don’t forget, we’re all we’ve got.’

  ‘George,’ Sofia said. ‘If Ahmad's family are here, we can get them out of there, too!’

  ‘I’m with Sofia,’ Ajit said.

  ‘Me too,’ Michael said, followed by the rest.

  ‘You guys sure?’ Scarlett asked. ‘You know it's going to be difficult and dangerous?’

  ‘We leave nobody behind,’ Michael said, looking around the table at everyone else. ‘That's what makes the Sirani Foundation the organisation it is. One that gives a shit about people who've helped. We’re not like Mancini Corporation where agents are expendable.’ He looked at the unicorn symbol on the screen of his phone. ‘Sirani agents are just as important as the sculpture itself. These are good people helping us, and if I become cursed for saying that, then fuck the Dark One as well.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Sofia said.

  ‘Okay,’ Carolina said. ‘Let’s have some fun tomorrow. Ajit, what does the message say about the president and the whereabouts of the fragment?’ She got up and walked to the fridge. ‘Anyone want a can of coke?’

  They all replied yes.

  ‘Okay,’ Ajit said, cracking his knuckles, then his neck. ‘The president is planning on presenting the Spanish people with the fragment tomorrow. He's going to put it on display for the Spanish people to have a look at then it will go to it’s new – official home – which will be in Madrid. The bullfighting showcase is already prepared, and people are welcome to come free of charge.’

  ‘What do we say to the president when he wakes up then?’ Michael said.

  ‘Keep it simple, Michael,’ Marcel said. ‘Tell him we know what he is, and if he doesn’t want to pay the dark turd an early visit, then he’ll give it up.’

  ‘If he’s a Fomorian, then he’ll not give it up. The Dark Lord will rip him limb from limb when he gets back to the Otherworld again,’ Scarlett said. ‘But we still don’t know if the antidote has had a lasting effect on the French leader.’

  ‘Well, we can just act as if it has, then send the president back to his people. If he gives us good info, great, we’ll go and take the fragment. If not, we’ll let him lead us to it, then we’ll just take it.’ Marcel rubbed his hands. ‘It’s that simple.’

  ‘But if we do need to go and take the fragment, which I’m guessing we will, we’ve got to be very careful. The Sirani Foundation must remain in the shadows. Just like Mancini Corporation. We remain out of the public eye. Nobody can know what's really going on,’ Scarlett said, sounding like George. ‘It's too difficult to explain and we haven’t got the time to explain it either.’

  ‘I love this idea of a secret mission,’ Marcel said, standing up, his chair screeching backwards. Strolling across the kitchen, he opened the window. He turned, hopped up onto the worktop. ‘Remember when I didn’t want to talk about my life in Brazil?’

  ‘Si,’ Michael said, not entirely sure where Marcel was going with it.

  ‘I was embarrassed to talk about it. In Brazil we are very poor, then coming to England—’

  ‘Marcel,’ Carolina interrupted, her face reddening. ‘They don't need to hear this.’

  ‘Carolina,’ George said, ‘the reason Elisabetta gifted you all those powers was because she wanted her group of seven to be normal, somewhat troubled individuals. She wanted you all to experience hardships during your upbringing so that you could learn to really love life and appreciate what's truly important, not material things. She wanted you and Marcel to grow up in poor circumstances because it is those upbringings that produces the most resilient of people.’

  ‘Yes,’ Scarlett added. ‘And you both should be very proud.

  Dr Rizzo entered the kitchen. ‘The president is awake. He wants to talk to somebody.’ He looked at Michael.

  ‘Perhaps send a woman in to do this one,’ Eduardo said, looking at Scarlett.

  ‘That's
cool with me,’ Scarlett said. She looked at Maria, ‘Let's go, your Spanish is better than mine.’

  ‘Here.’ Ajit jumped from his seat. ‘Clip this to your shirt, so we can listen to the conversation.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  SCARLETT AND MARIA accompanied Dr Rizzo into the president’s room. The rest listened from Ajit's laptop.

  ‘Hola, como estas?’ Scarlett asked. ‘You’re very lucky we got to you, before it was too late.’

  Carolina looked at Michael. ‘She's smart, immediately making him feel as if he should be grateful.’

  ‘Yes, Scarlett’s great at this. Comes with many years of training,’ Enrique added, as they continued to listen to Scarlett pouring a drink for Perez.

  ‘Stop with the pleasantries,’ the president said. ‘Who are you? What do you want with me? I hope you realise what will happen to you for this!’ He laughed, almost sounding like French President Charvet when the group grabbed him only days before.

  ‘Yes, we know,’ Maria said. ‘We'll spend the rest of our lives in prison!’ She spoke as if tired of the threat, like all the Sirani agents had become de-sensitised to the thought. ‘But, we're trying to help you, President. We know you’ve planned a festival tomorrow; we know what the celebration is for. But, we also know that it cannot go ahead. And it saddens me to say it, because the one thing I love the most about our beautiful Spanish culture is the bullfighting.’

  ‘I’ve no idea what you're talking about!’ Perez said, piling food into his mouth, as if he’d been starved.

  Scarlett spoke directly into the listening device. ‘Mancini have obviously told him this would happen. I don’t think he's going to play ball.’ She sighed. ‘He's gonna make us work.’ She turned back to Perez. ‘The piece of the sculpture, President, please. Where is it?’

  ‘You are in possession of the Spanish fragment, a fragment of an enchanted sculpture which was sold to the Spanish royal family in 1665.’ Maria began to sound like she was playing bad cop and Scarlett was the good cop. ‘The fragment was sold by a bastard artist named Pietro Mancini, and now his family: the Mancini Corporation is encouraging you to present it to the Spanish public because it comes from a...’ she paused. ‘...a valuable rock. It's imperative that we find this fragment, we can’t tell you why, but we need to stop this Mancini Corporation getting their hands on it.’