He got up and walked over to the half-destroyed school piano and slid one of the guns underneath it. This would be his primary back-up tomorrow if anything kicked off.
The piano had been a fixture of the hall for as long as Josh could remember. Every morning Mrs Larkley had banged out ‘All things bright and beautiful’ on it, trying desperately to hide the tremors from her alcoholism as she played. He closed his eyes and let the history of the instrument unwind around him. He watched the panorama of events expand until he found a point close to the last game of ‘Pirates’ they’d ever played and moved into it.
Standing on the stage surrounded by gym equipment, Josh lost himself in the scent of sweat-stained crashmats and rubber-scuffed, waxed floors, then pulled out the tachyon, rotated the dial to bookmark this timepoint and threw the remaining pistol up into the air.
The gun spun slowly, end-over-end, up into the air as he tapped the watch and jumped back to the present.
62
Meeting
It was close to midnight when he reappeared, the rain had stopped, and the sky above the school was clear and full of stars.
He could tell by the cars parked outside that Lenin had already arrived, and that he’d brought reinforcements. Josh was going to be heavily outnumbered. He didn’t care — he wasn’t going to be hanging around to get shot — he had a plan.
Josh stayed out of sight and crept quietly around the grounds of the school. Lenin had posted armed guards at every entrance. It reminded Josh of the time he and the colonel were scoping out the Wolf’s Lair back in 1944; standing in the cold watching the Nazis seemed like so long ago now. He missed the old man and his crazy ways.
There was a noise from the bushes behind him, and a slight rush of statically charged air that signalled someone actualising nearby. Josh moved back into the shadows and waited to see who appeared.
It was Caitlin.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he whispered hoarsely to her.
She looked a little surprised, but it was quickly replaced with anger.
‘Trying to stop you doing something stupid,’ she spat back at him.
‘This is my fight. Not yours. I don’t go messing around in your life trying to put it right, do I?’
She looked a little taken aback.
‘I wouldn’t have to,’ she said defiantly, ‘if you weren’t about to screw it all up.’
‘It’s mine to screw up! Who gave you the right to say what I do with it?’
Caitlin was about to reply when Sim appeared. He was wearing some kind of dark armour under his cloak — he looked like something out of a video game.
‘Dalton is tracking us. According to my calculations, you’re going to need some back-up. You can’t go up against all of them on your own.’
‘They have weapons — Uzis,’ Josh warned.
‘We know,’ Caitlin said, producing her sword.
‘What did you bring with you?’ Josh asked Sim.
Sim opened up his coat to reveal an impressive array of fighting stars and just about everything else you could buy from a martial arts catalogue.
‘So you’re going to go all ninja on their ass?’ Josh said with a laugh. ‘Against automatic weapons.’
‘You got a better plan?’ asked Caitlin sarcastically.
‘As it happens, I do.’
‘Good. Well, let’s hear it, then!’
Lenin had assured the professor that he knew the perfect place for a meeting. Fermi had his doubts, until he checked the plans of the old school and found it did indeed have everything he required. There was a basement that ran the length of the hall, where he could install his monitoring equipment out of sight in a matter of hours.
Fermi sat in what had once been the boiler room and checked his laptop: all the readings were stable. He could take a baseline of the gravitational background and then sit back and wait for the show to begin.
He took out the old watch once more and stroked its finely engraved surface with his thumb. There was something deeply satisfying about such a well-made piece; its construction exuded craftsmanship, a level of mastery he’d hardly ever seen. Fermi felt like a Victorian explorer studying an artefact from a lost civilisation — the symbols and glyphs around its intricate dials made no sense to him. It was a mystery wrapped in an enigma.
There was a subtle but highly localised distortion field surrounding the metal casement. He could feel the shifting waves when he ran his finger over it, as though he wasn’t actually touching the surface but a micrometre above it. This really was a quantum device, he thought to himself. It was in a state of permanent flux: both here and not here at the same time — it was Schrödinger’s watch.
Fermi couldn’t imagine how the secrets of this device were in the hands of some itinerant car-thief, an opportunist who had stolen something he couldn’t comprehend. Nevertheless, the frustration would soon be over, he told himself. Josh’s need to rescue his mother would soon resolve the situation. Fermi’s men would take him and with the appropriate amount of persuasion he would have the details of the original owner. Then the thief could be on his way, or at least be released into Lenin’s care, whatever that entailed.
The boy’s mother was recovering well under the ministrations of the private hospital; if all went to plan tonight, there should be no reason why she wouldn’t live a long and healthy life — whatever that was for a woman of her age and condition. He wasn’t sure he could say the same for her son.
There was an odd burst of static on the walkie-talkie, which coincided with a strange spike on his monitoring screens.
‘Three bodies just appeared on the thermal. EchoSix,’ a military voice crackled over the radio, ‘walking south. Appeared out of nowhere. Over.’
Fermi felt a tremor of excitement as he put on his glasses and sat down next to the laptop.
‘Bring the cameras online. I want everything recorded.’
‘Copy that.’
A series of grainy images flashed onto the grid of monitors behind the laptop. The night-vision cameras capturing a trace of the group moving through the grounds of the school. They were painted in eerie hues of green. Their faces were obscured. Only the glowing points of light in their eyes gave him any hint that they were even human.
The fact that there were three of them disturbed Fermi — Lenin had told him that Jones would come alone, that he had no friends who’d have the balls to stand beside him in a fight. Fermi didn’t like surprises. Hypotheses needed to factor all the variables.
‘Scan every sector. Secure the perimeter!’ the professor barked into the radio.
63
Showdown
Josh walked into the crowded hall with his head held high, looking into the eyes of each member of the ghost squad as he passed them. Caitlin and Sim shadowed him, their weapons still hidden beneath their long coats. By Josh’s estimation, Lenin had brought everybody to the party, and every single one of them was armed. He could tell from the way they wouldn’t meet his gaze that they were nervous, waiting for him to make the first move. Most of them had never fired a gun, except in video games. That could work to his advantage if he played it right, or it could end up with them all getting shot.
Gossy was standing in the middle of the room. His hands were empty, but Josh could see from the bulge in his coat that he was packing. They nodded to each other and Josh thought for a second he saw a glimmer of concern in his friend’s face — Lenin obviously didn’t have everybody’s total allegiance.
Lenin sat on a makeshift throne they had built out of a couple of old crates on the stage. He was smoking a joint and tapping his feet to the beat of something loud and bassy playing on the PA system sitting next to him. He put his hand into his jacket and pulled a microphone.
‘Ladies and gentleman, give it up, give it up — Crashman is in da house,’ he rapped in perfect time to the beat. There were various hoots and chants from the crowd closing in around them. Josh could feel Caitlin’s eyes burning into the back o
f his head.
‘So,’ Lenin took another drag on his spliff, ‘do you have what I asked for?’
‘Do you?’ Josh replied, his voice sounded meek in comparison to the PA.
Lenin smiled and waved the mic at someone in the corner, who in turn tapped on a door and opened it.
Josh felt his resolve drain away as he saw the feeble figure of his mother appear through the doorway in a wheelchair. Her head was lolling to one side as if she were heavily sedated. He heard Caitlin gasp and felt the anger rise like a red wave. It engulfed him. He felt every sinew tense as a lifetime of domination under Lenin burst like a putrid ulcer.
Caitlin put her hand in his and squeezed it.
‘Well, looks like Josh brought his girlfriend,’ teased Lenin. ‘When this is over, darling, we’re going to party, yeah?’ he added with a lecherous wink.
Josh squeezed back as if to say it was going to be OK.
They wheeled his mother on to the stage next to Lenin. She was dressed in a surgical gown with a threadbare blanket thrown over her legs. Josh could see there was still a cannula in her arm where there should’ve been an IV drip attached.
‘So, Josh man, where’s the cash?’
Josh placed a small Gladstone bag on the floor in front of him. It was one of the colonel’s, like the one from the Fenian bombing. They’d stuffed the bag full of old notes — Caitlin had gone to a ‘collector’ who wouldn’t mind loaning them a few thousand.
‘The interesting thing about loose notes is that they always looks a lot more than there really is,’ she’d said handing him the bag. She’d liked parts of his plan, but had had some suggestions of her own. Before he could argue, she was back with the cash. Josh had to laugh at the idea of someone who ‘collected’ cash — in any other situation they would have been called ‘rich’ or ‘loaded’, but in Caitlin’s world they were simply a curator of currency. He made a mental note to ask her more about that particular division of the Order later.
‘Bring him,’ barked Lenin.
Gossy went down and picked up the bag, holding it up to feel the weight. Josh could tell from his expression that he was impressed. The Victorian case looked odd in Gossy’s hands, out of place next to his ripped jeans. Josh felt hands grab his arms and push him towards the front.
Lenin threw away the joint and opened the bag. He smiled at what he saw inside and began to pull notes out and throw them at his crew, who immediately forgot themselves and began scrabbling around on the floor for the fluttering notes.
‘The power of money,’ said Lenin smugly. He pulled out another fistful and flung it into Josh’s face. ‘You sure it’s all here, Joshy?’
Josh stood directly below him, trying to look unimpressed. He was slowly counting down the seconds in his head.
Lenin nodded to Gossy and dropped the bag.
‘Sorry, Crash. You did fine, but there’s a man who pays better.’
The members of the Ghost Squad were busy chasing notes and squabbling over who should have the bigger share when another crew arrived. These were mean-looking men, mercenaries, ex-military types with hard eyes and crew cuts.
Josh leapt on to the stage as Lenin pulled a gun.
‘Don’t —’ was all Lenin managed to say before Josh grabbed him and hit the button on the tachyon. They both disappeared from the stage.
Lenin and Josh appeared in the empty hall seven years earlier. The equipment laid out ready for a new game. Josh looked up and caught the gun he had thrown earlier as it came down.
They stood, silently pointing guns at each other. Lenin was naked except for his tattoos, Josh was shocked at how emaciated he’d become. His ribs were showing and the track marks on his arms were raised and sore. Lenin’s eyes flicked nervously around the room looking for any sign of his crew, trying to process where and when he was.
‘Put it down, Len. It’s just between us now.’
Lenin’s hand was shaking a little, and his fingers flexed on the handle of the gun as if to get a better grip.
‘How the —’
‘Shoot me and you’ll never get back.’
‘How about I shoot you anyway and work that out later?’
‘No. You’re not giving the orders any more. You aren’t the boss of me,’ growled Josh pointing his gun at Lenin’s chest.
‘Whoa, suddenly someone grew a pair!’
‘Just telling it like it is.’
‘Go on, then,’ Lenin said, lowering his weapon and opening his arms out. ‘Let’s see if you’ve really got the balls.’
Josh stood his ground. The barrel of the gun didn’t waiver.
‘You’re a pussy, Josh, always have been. Just remember who pulled you out of the car.’
Josh thought of all the times he’d heard this from Lenin, the debt of which he’d reminded of so many times. He knew now it had all been a lie — their entire relationship for the last five years had been based on that one day, the day he’d nearly died, when the colonel had pulled them both out of the car and Lenin had taken the credit.
‘You didn’t save me, though, did you, Len?’
Lenin’s eyes narrowed, and Josh caught the slightest flicker of guilt.
‘You saying I didn’t? You were totally out of it — I should have left you there to burn.’
‘No,’ said Josh, ‘you see I went back — that’s what I do now. I saw what happened. I saw the guy who pulled us both out of the car when everyone else stood back and watched.’
‘Bullshit. You’re seconds away from being a dead man,’ threatened Lenin, bringing the gun back up.
Josh couldn’t hold back any more. ‘You made me think you saved my life! What kind of friend does that? Acting like you owned me. Like I owed you — and I believed you, feeling like it was all my fault! I would have gone on believing you until I found out I could do this,’ he said, waving the gun at the gym. ‘I went back there, I saw what happened and now this is all I need to totally screw up your life. Whereas this,’ he said, waving the gun, ‘doesn’t solve anything.’ He put the gun away and stepped closer to Lenin once more.
He held the tachyon in Lenin’s face. ‘Watch.’
Josh pressed the rewind, and they both disappeared.
Caitlin and Sim were holding their own against the rest of the room. In the chaos, the Ghost Squad had turned on the mercenaries, and it was hard to see who was winning.
She had done her best not to maim or injure anyone too badly. The weapons that she and Sim were using were deadly: but could be used to incapacitate an opponent rather than kill them. The Ghost Squad were easier targets than the mercenaries who were all skilled in hand-to-hand combat.
Josh reappeared with Lenin a few seconds after he’d left. Gossy couldn’t quite work out what was going on, but Lenin was naked and still holding a gun, which was weird and dangerous, to say the least.
Josh went to his mother while Lenin blinked and looked around as if he’d just woken up. His nakedness went unnoticed in the chaos.
Gossy took a long look at the carnage unfolding around them: bullets, swords and blood were flying in all directions. His gaze met Lenin’s and seemed to come to the same conclusion. He picked up the bag of money. It was time to get the hell out of there.
Lenin looked over at Josh and raised his gun. Gossy shouted a warning as he fired. Josh turned at the sound, causing the bullet to miss him and it hit his mother instead.
A red stain flowered on her surgical gown just below the shoulder. Josh screamed at Lenin and turned on him his eyes burning with tears.
‘You —’
Lenin’s eyes were wild as he raised the gun again.
‘Josh!’ shouted Caitlin from the middle of the fracas. ‘Rewind!’
Somehow he heard her voice through the noise of the battle and remembered the tachyon. He closed his hand over it and went back two minutes.
[<<]
The hall reset, and he was back in front of Lenin. As before, Lenin nodded to Gossy and dropped the bag.
‘Sorry,
Crash, you did fine, but the man pays better.’
This time, Josh dived to the piano and grabbed the gun from its hiding place. As he rolled and brought the weapon up to fire, he saw Caitlin running across the room towards him. Lenin was raising his gun and Josh knew he would only have one chance to stop him. He fired and felt the pistol’s recoil kick back into his arm. The bullet hit Lenin in the leg, knocked him off balance and he fired wide.
Josh saw Caitlin fall. At first, he thought she’d tripped, but when he got closer he saw the blood on her neck and knew where Lenin’s bullet had gone.
He hit the rewind again.
[<<]
‘Sorry, Crash. You did fine, but the man pays better.’
He had less than ten seconds to make a choice. This time, he jumped straight at Lenin before he could pull the gun, before the military burst in.
He was about the same size as Lenin and knew that he could take him in a fair fight, but Lenin never did anything fairly, and as Josh took him down he felt a cold, sharp pain in his side — Lenin had stabbed him.
Gossy was shouting at Lenin as Josh rolled over on his side and saw the wound, it was not deep, but the blood was pouring out of it. He pressed a hand to the cut and raised himself up on one arm.
Lenin was staring at him, the knife in one hand and the gun in the other.
‘I told him you’d be easy,’ Lenin shouted. ‘You were supposed to be a pussy! Now I’m going to have to end you.’ He raised the gun to take aim.
Gossy came up behind Lenin and began to wrestle with him for the gun. Lenin dropped the knife and used his free hand to punch Gossy, but he wouldn’t let go, and they bundled across the stage.
The Infinity Engines Books 1-3 Page 31