by Stephen Cole
‘The arming device is in the pupil,’ Con explained, as Patch showed around the fake eyeball like a magician’s assistant. ‘You press on it once to arm it – then, when you take your finger off, you’ve got maybe five seconds before it blows.’
‘I’d show you,’ said Patch, looking pale and sweaty, ‘but I’ve already armed it. If I take my finger off the pupil I’ll blow up the whole bleedin’ lot of us.’
‘You’re bluffing,’ said the old man calmly.
‘No, Heidel.’ Sorin shook his head. ‘We saw him arm the mechanism. Or else we’d have taken them.’
‘Kendall wouldn’t harm his friends,’ Bree stated.
‘I don’t want to hurt anyone,’ said Patch, waggling the eyeball. ‘And I get bloody nervous at times like this, so no one make my hands any shakier, yeah?’
‘Give me my gun back,’ said Tye.
Bree weighed the gun in her hand, then held it out to Tye. But as Tye reached for it she tossed it out of the open window. ‘It’s useless, remember?’ She smirked at Patch. ‘Well, Kendall? Going to blow us all sky high for my disobedience?’
Jonah tutted. ‘You want to keep your gang under control, Heidel. Any more surprises, we could all wind up dead.’
‘Now stand in the far corner, all of you,’ Con snapped. ‘No tricks.’
Heidel stared at her for a few moments. Then he signalled to his gang and slowly, dutifully, they backed away.
Jonah crossed to Tye and knelt beside her. ‘You OK? Is Motti all right?’
Tye shot a poisonous look at Heidel. ‘He’s breathing.’
‘For now,’ said Bree casually.
‘Unlike that poor old sod on the floor,’ said Jonah, straining as Tye helped him half carry, half drag Motti over to where Con and Patch waited. ‘Is that Blackland?’
‘Yes, it’s him.’ The red-haired girl under the desk had poked her bruised face out. ‘They killed him.’
‘And for what, my dear Maya?’ Heidel produced a small, brown book from his pocket. ‘Ah yes, for this. Blackland’s greatest treasure. The Guan Yin manuscript.’
‘Give that to us,’ Con demanded. ‘Throw it on the floor and –’
‘Oh, I don’t think so.’ Heidel smiled faintly. ‘That’s the problem when one’s only weapon is mass destruction – it offers little finesse when negotiating.’
‘Oh?’
‘You won’t detonate that explosive if I don’t comply with your demands, Con. In a confined space like this you risk killing yourselves at the same time.’ He walked slowly towards them, pausing with his back to the window, holding up the book just as Patch was holding the eyeball. ‘Besides, I know just how valuable the Bloodline Cipher is to Coldhardt. I know what depends on it, what’s at stake. You daren’t destroy this manuscript.’
‘You’re insane,’ Maya piped up quietly. ‘All of you.’
Jonah remembered Coldhardt’s warning back in the hub: That manuscript is of paramount importance. Take no chances with its welfare … damaged it is of no use to me.
‘Coldhardt wouldn’t need to know we destroyed it,’ said Con icily. ‘You wouldn’t be alive to breathe a word.’
‘So you would betray your master, eh, Con? Perhaps there is hope for you.’ Heidel glanced at Patch. ‘It seems we both hold a trump card. But I shall resolve this standoff now by leaving with my colleagues – and the manuscript.’ He looked behind him at his followers. Bree nodded, and sauntered over to the window.
‘Wait,’ said Con warningly, ‘we say what happens here.’
‘Oh, let ’em go,’ Patch moaned. ‘Good riddance!’
‘Yes, let them just leave,’ said Maya.
‘We’ll meet again,’ said Bree, not bothering to look at them as she swung her legs out of the window. Sorin clambered out after her. Sadie didn’t move, staring Jonah out. She smiled, held up the priceless enamelled gold ring on her finger – then pointed an imaginary crossbow at his head and mimed pulling the trigger. The glint in her eyes as she did so sent a chill piercing through him. He looked away, and only then did she follow the others out of the window.
As she left, Con hurled herself at Heidel, grabbing for the manuscript in his hand. The old man blocked her strike with a sweep of his arm, knocking her off-balance. Before Jonah could react, Tye had darted forward to help – but now Heidel had hooked his other arm around Con’s neck, crushing his wrist against her windpipe.
‘Let her go!’ Patch shouted, thrusting the glass eyeball towards him. ‘I mean it!’
‘You’re as impotent as your master, boy,’ Heidel snarled, squeezing harder. Con’s face turned red, her eyes widened as she struggled for air. ‘Give Coldhardt this message,’ he hissed. ‘Time waits for no men, and I am the proof. The living proof of something he will never own.’ He backed away to the window, dragging Con along by her throat, then threw her flat on her face to the floor. She lay retching for breath, and as Jonah and Tye rushed to help her, Heidel scrambled through the window with surprising agility. He looked back, his face impassive. ‘I suspect Bree was right; we shall meet again. And when we do, no quarter will be shown.’
‘Yeah,’ Jonah muttered as Heidel ran into the night. Con’s gasps for breath filled his ears. ‘You’re right about that.’
‘Con …’ Patch stared down at her, his eyes shiny with tears. ‘Is she gonna be OK, Tye?’
‘Slow down, Con, deep breaths,’ Tye urged her. ‘Hold your chin up, that’ll help keep your airway clear …’
Over her straining and spluttering Jonah heard the roar of an engine starting up.
‘No!’ Patch shouted, running to the window. ‘The bastards, they’re taking our pick-up!’
‘I totalled their limo,’ Tye said helplessly.
Jonah looked at her. ‘They’re going to leave us stranded?’
‘They’ve pissed all over us. Half-killed us. Shafted us.’ Suddenly Patch pulled back his arm, making ready to throw the plastic explosive after Heidel. ‘Well, bugger ’em – and bugger that stupid bleedin’ manuscript!’
‘No!’ Jonah shouted, staggering up and running for the window. He cannoned into Patch, too late to stop the throw, clocking in horror the eyeball’s glistening flight across Blackland’s drive. It fell well short of the pick-up, which was already pulling away.
Instead it struck the bonnet of the smashed-in limousine outside.
Jonah yanked Patch away from the window as a massive, scorching explosion of heat punched the window glass into thousands of tiny jagged shards. Each fragment reflected the blast in yellow-red as they rained into the room. Maya shrieked and Tye threw herself protectively over Con. The shadows of the flames danced exultantly over the bare walls of the study.
‘You bloody idiot,’ Jonah shouted in Patch’s face. ‘That explosive was our only defence, our one deterrent. Now those psychos can come back and finish us!’
‘I’m sorry!’ Patch shouted back, trembling.
Maya stepped gingerly over the glass to help Tye move Con over to the door. ‘Are they coming back?’ she asked quietly.
‘I’ll see.’ Jonah crossed to the window, a sick feeling building in his belly. The ripped curtains twitched like the night was breathing in on them.
He saw the pick-up unharmed, parked in the gateway to the drive, well away from the blazing wreck of the limo. But Heidel stood watching him from the other side of the flaming wreck, half-obscured by the thick black smoke, his features rippling in the heat haze. Jonah watched, uneasy and transfixed, as the old man produced the Guan Yin manuscript, the book they’d come so far to get from his pocket.
And then threw it into the blaze.
Jonah was too stunned to react. He watched Heidel slowly turn and walk back to the waiting truck. The passenger door was opened and the old man climbed inside. Then the pick-up drove slowly away, no wheel-spins or screw-you theatrics. Jonah found himself thinking of a hearse leaving a funeral. The flames billowed a brighter orange, flaring up as if feasting on the new morsel thrown to them. When they died
back down there was nothing to see beyond save the huddled shadows of the dark landscape and the star-splashed indigo above.
Tye spoke just behind him; he hadn’t heard her approach. ‘Tell me that wasn’t the manuscript he just burnt to ashes.’
The sting of smoke caught Jonah’s eyes and he rubbed them. ‘It was so dark, I couldn’t see clearly. It could have been a trick.’
She looked at him, her dark eyes reflecting the fire. ‘Who are you kidding?’
‘At least now we know what the Bloodline Cipher is,’ said Patch bitterly. ‘It’s toast.’
A book of dark magic, followed by bad luck and flames. Jonah shivered and looked to where Patch was slumped between Motti and Con, over by the door. Con was breathing more normally now. Maya hovered uncertainly beside the desk in the corner.
‘Are they coming?’ she whispered again.
Jonah shook his head. ‘Gone. Like the manuscript.’ He slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. ‘Except that’s gone for ever, and Heidel and his crew will be back, won’t they? Back for us.’
‘Who are you?’ Maya pressed one hand to her bloodied cheek. ‘You came for the Guan Yin manuscript too. Why?’
Tye ignored her. ‘We’d better get out of here. That explosion will have carried for miles – maybe all the way to the nearest neighbours. They’ll be dialling 911.’
Patch sighed. ‘D’you think they could spare an ambulance for Mot at the same time?’
‘This place’ll be full of cops,’ said Con hoarsely, tugging the high neckline of her black top away from her throat, turning to Maya. ‘What about her?’
Maya took a wary step backwards. ‘What about me?’
‘She was Blackland’s librarian,’ Tye explained.
Con’s eyes had narrowed. ‘She can ID us.’
‘God, you’re right,’ Patch realised. ‘That old git used our full names.’
‘I won’t tell anyone anything,’ said Maya quickly, her grey eyes wide and frightened. ‘I don’t want to get involved.’
Jonah looked queasily at Blackland’s body. ‘Bit late for that.’
‘I won’t talk to the police,’ Maya insisted. ‘Listen, those people may have taken the manuscript, but there’s a copy. It’s been scanned, every page. All stored on a DVD upstairs. You can have it, just … just don’t hurt me.’
The glitter returned to Con’s sub-zero eyes as she turned to Tye. ‘Is she lying?’
‘Seems on the level,’ said Tye slowly.
‘It’s why that bitch Bree was beating me up,’ said Maya, her fingers straying to the welt on her high cheekbone again, her lip curling in anger. ‘She wanted to know if there were duplicate copies of the manuscript …’
Con raised an eyebrow. ‘And you didn’t tell her?’
‘She killed Blackland,’ said Maya simply. ‘I didn’t want to do anything that might help her.’ She sighed, looked almost guiltily at Tye. ‘I suppose I would have told her if you and your friend hadn’t stopped her when you did. Thank you for helping me.’
‘In return, you will help us to help ourselves,’ Con informed her.
‘Scans of the manuscript,’ Jonah muttered. ‘Then we’re still in the game …’ He could feel his heart pumping faster as he turned back to Maya. ‘So, Blackland kept a digital archive of all his books?’
‘Yes, I’ve been helping him with that project,’ she told him, ‘not just for cataloguing, but to aid close study and translation. I’m a cryptanalyst.’
Tye looked puzzled. ‘You mean you analyse crypts?’
‘Duh!’ Despite everything, Jonah grinned. ‘It means she cracks ciphers.’ Tye glared at him, as he turned back to Maya. ‘So the entire Guan Yin manuscript is encrypted, not just this Bloodline Cipher thing?’
She nodded. ‘Sure. I was thinking some kind of polyalphabetic cipher at first, but frequency analysis shows natural statistical features in accordance with Zipf’s law –’
‘Oh, sweet Jesus,’ Motti drawled. ‘Don’t say we got another Jonah.’
‘Mot!’ Patch bounded over to him. ‘Thought you was in a coma or something.’
‘I wish. It’d hurt a lot less.’ As Tye and Patch helped him stand, Motti touched the swollen bruise on his forehead and winced. ‘What’d I miss?’
‘Just about everything,’ Con told him.
‘But you’ve woken up at a good bit.’ Jonah grinned at him, then looked back at Maya. ‘Has Blackland got transport?’
She nodded quickly. ‘A vintage Buick in the garage.’
‘And these must be the keys,’ Tye announced, crouched beside Blackland’s body, her hand inside his jacket pocket.
‘Patch, get Tye inside that garage,’ said Jonah, nerves sparking in his gut. ‘Get the car and park it out front. Con, help Motti outside. If the cops show, get out of here. I’ll keep in RT contact and meet up with you later.’
‘Who died and made you the boss?’ growled Motti.
‘You did, nearly,’ Jonah retorted.
‘I’m the one who really almost died!’ Patch proudly lifted his top again to show his spectacular bruised stomach.
Tye grimaced and looked back at Jonah. ‘And while we’re doing that, you’ll be getting this DVD with Maya here?’
‘And any other rare stuff you can carry. After this shambles we must curry favour with the boss, yes?’ Con glanced at Motti. ‘First you lose his ring, then we lose his manuscript –’
‘So let’s get going.’ Jonah took hold of Maya’s arm and hurried her from the room. ‘Library. Right now …’
Tye sat in the driver’s seat of the Buick Riviera ’65, scanning the shadow-shrunken landscape for hints of electric blue, straining for the first wails of police sirens approaching. She felt sick with tiredness, and her jaw and nose were throbbing. But Motti wasn’t complaining about his injuries, so she kept quiet about her own. She checked him in the rear-view, sprawled on the cherry-red leather upholstery beside Patch, one hand in his jeans pocket, resting the good side of his head against the window.
The limo had burnt out quickly, and sat now a charred and twisted wreck. While Con had poked about in the ash for some trace of the manuscript, Tye had filled in Motti on what he’d missed.
‘You really think Lady Bowfinger’s got Coldhardt’s ring I dropped?’ he asked.
‘She was flaunting it,’ Tye told him. ‘Rubbing Jonah’s face in it.’
Motti groaned softly. ‘Damn thing’s worth a fortune.’
‘What, Jonah’s face?’ Patch joked. Motti punched him on the arm. ‘Ow!’
Con came back to the truck. ‘Nothing,’ she reported, climbing into the passenger seat, picking bits of black from her long fingernails. ‘You know, it seems incredible that Heidel’s gang would kill five people and take on another five to get hold of a priceless ancient manuscript – and then just throw it into a fire …’
‘They did it out of spite,’ said Motti. ‘You said they knew how badly Coldhardt wanted it.’
Tye nodded. ‘It’s a big statement of hate.’
‘Like killing all us lot would have been,’ Patch agreed.
‘All except one of us,’ Tye reminded him, ‘left to bring the message home to Coldhardt.’
‘“Time waits for no men, and I am the proof … ”’ Con repeated the words quietly, and Tye saw her try but fail to suppress a shudder. ‘The living proof of something Coldhardt will never own. What did he mean?’
‘When we pass on the message to Coldhardt, maybe he’ll know,’ said Tye. She checked her watch. ‘If Jonah ever gets back, that is.’
‘P’raps he stopped to give Maya a quick one in a pile of old books,’ Patch theorised. ‘All that talking codes got ’em horny.’
‘Jonah’s not like that.’ Con gave Tye a sideways look. ‘Is he, Tye?’
Tye shrugged, refusing to rise to the bait.
‘I’d do it with her,’ Patch went on. ‘If you covered up that birthmark she’d be quite fit.’
‘As if!’ Con retorted.
&nb
sp; Patch smirked. ‘Jealous?’
‘Sore?’ She reached back and poked him in the stomach, making him yelp.
‘Shut up,’ Tye complained. ‘I’m trying to listen for sirens. Come on, Jonah …’
‘Here he comes,’ said Motti suddenly. ‘And hey, look at that. He’s bringing his new squeeze with him.’
‘Saves me getting out the car,’ Con declared. ‘I’ll mesmerise her into forgetting all about us and send her back inside.’
Tye angled the rear-view. Jonah and Maya were hurrying across the driveway, each carrying a holdall. Jonah opened the boot and they slung the baggage inside. It doesn’t look like just books in there, thought Tye in surprise.
Jonah opened the rear passenger door. ‘You’d better budge up. Maya’s coming with us.’
Motti looked at him. ‘She’s what?’
‘She’s been working on the Guan Yin manuscript for weeks, made some headway with the translation,’ Jonah explained, Maya standing awkwardly behind him. ‘Could save us – and Coldhardt – a lot of time when it comes to cracking this Bloodline Cipher thing.’
‘So steal her work and we can leave her here,’ said Con.
‘Why does she want to come with us anyway?’ said Tye, looking at Maya and frowning. ‘Most people wouldn’t be tripping over themselves to run away with a bunch of thieves who’d just broken into their house.’
Maya came forward. ‘I’ve realised I don’t have much choice.’ The shadows made the dark skin of her birthmark look like a gaping hole in her throat as she leaned in to look at Tye. ‘I have no visa. I am here in America illegally, I have … trouble back home in Ukraine. I cannot go back there.’
‘What trouble?’ Patch asked.
Motti snorted. ‘We all got our own sob stories to deal with, Cyclops.’
‘Sob story is right. She could be a spy,’ said Con. ‘Left here by Heidel to gain our trust.’
‘They beat the crap out of her!’ Jonah protested.