by Tim Waggoner
“We can’t make this personal, sir,” Jack said.
“Personal?” Champ practically roared the word. “Agent, we can’t stand by and allow folks like Tequila to die. We’re these people’s only hope. We have to find that antidote.”
If Jack felt stung by his boss’s rebuke, he didn’t show it. “Poppy’s stockpiles could be anywhere,” he said.
“She must have some at hand, though,” Harry said. “Locate Poppy and we could obtain a sample for analysis. Then maybe it could be replicated.”
The receiver on Champ’s desk beeped. Champ touched the buckle, and a new voice issued from the device. It was Ginger.
“Gotta cut in, guys. Countess Clara is on with Charlie. Looping you in now.”
Countess Clara’s voice cut in, and she sounded desperate.
“Why didn’t you just tell me? All you said was, ‘Don’t take any drugs!’ It was a music festival, for fuck’s sake!”
Eggsy understood what had happened. Clara had the blue rash. The next voice they heard belonged to Charlie.
“Shit. Shit! Okay… Listen. You need to get to the lab in Italy. Remember where we went skiing? I’ll meet you there and give you the antidote.”
They both fell silent, and the transmission ended.
“Jet’s ready. Whiskey, Galahad—good luck.”
Eggsy, Harry, and Jack all stood.
“You guys really need to fix this code-name thing,” Jack said before turning to Champ. “And with all due respect, sir, I don’t think Galahad senior is ready to return to field work.”
Champ looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Yeah. I, uh, did actually mean—”
“Of course,” Harry said. And then, more softly, “Of course.”
He sat back down quickly, obviously humiliated. Eggsy couldn’t stand to see him like that. He glared at Champ.
“And with all disrespect, I’m not going anywhere without him.” He pointed to Harry, “Brains,” then himself, “skills,” then Jack, “skipping rope.”
Champ laughed.
“It’s a lasso,” Jack said in a toneless voice.
“Whatever,” Eggsy said.
* * *
Finding out where Clara was going was simple: she’d posted pictures of her skiing trip to Italy on her Instagram. As the Statesman jet flew once more across the Atlantic, Harry, with Eggsy’s help, spent the time working through a series of physical and cognitive exercises designed by Merlin and Ginger to speed his recovery. Some of the exercises were simple: playing games like chess and poker, which required strategy and a certain amount of hand-eye coordination. Some were more complex, such as working through logic puzzles or decrypting coded messages. Some were entirely physical: maintaining a handstand for as long as possible or going through a series of tai chi routines. And some were geared more specifically to being an agent, like Harry using his non-dominant hand to hurl daggers at a target or defending himself against an attacker while wearing a blindfold. Eggsy got to play the role of attacker in the latter exercise, and he earned more than a few bruises for his trouble.
Jack made it clear that he thought the exercises were a waste of time. One day Harry might get back to being the agent he was before he’d been shot, but no way was he going to do it in a handful of hours. Eggsy did his best to encourage Harry, but inwardly, he feared Jack was right. Harry was the most amazing person Eggsy had ever met, but he was still human, and he could only heal so fast.
He supposed they’d find out if the exercises did Harry any good when they reached their destination. But he hoped he hadn’t made a mistake when he’d pressed Champ to let Harry come along on this mission. He’d just gotten his friend back. He didn’t want to lose him again so soon.
Courmayeur, Italy
The three agents stood in the cable car depot at the foot of Mont Blanc in the Graian Alps. The peak rose into the air and loomed over the region like an ancient god. Despite its intimidating presence—or perhaps because of it—people were drawn here from all over the world to experience some of the best skiing Europe had to offer. But Eggsy, Harry, and Jack weren’t interested in outdoor sport. They’d come here to hunt.
The agents were waiting for the cable car to descend and return to the depot. Eggsy and Jack were decked out in ski gear and each carried skis and poles, while Harry wore Tequila’s cowboy hat, tan shearling jacket and carried an overnight bag.
Harry glared at Jack. “Shame you only had two ski suits.”
“We need you down here anyway, Galahad,” Jack said. “Secure the control room.”
Harry gave the man a grudging nod.
Eggsy shot Harry an apologetic look and Harry smiled in response.
The cable car made its appearance, and Jack and Eggsy got on. The car was empty, and Eggsy thought that was one good thing about this being the off-season: they weren’t going to have to worry about crowds. Unfortunately, that also meant the three of them stuck out like a trio of sore thumbs. Made the covert part of covert operations a bit harder to manage.
Eggsy waved farewell to Harry, and the cable car began its return trip to the mountain. The car was round, and it revolved slowly to treat passengers to a three-hundred-and-sixty degree view during their ascent. Eggsy found the outlook stunning, and he remembered what Jack had said during the flight back from England, about how one of the perks for spies like them was getting to see the world. The man was definitely right on that score. Still, he wished Tilde were here with him. The view would mean so much more if he could share it with her.
As the car drew near the summit, they saw a visitor center, and Eggsy and Jack exchanged bemused looks. Merlin had continued tracking Clara since they’d listened in on her panicked call to Charlie, and according to the Scotsman, her GPS signal said she was presently located right where the center was. But a visitor center wasn’t exactly the first thing that came to mind when one thought of “Insane Drug Lord’s Secret Lair.” Not much secret about that place, Eggsy thought.
When the cable car reached the summit, Eggsy and Jack disembarked. There was a ski rack close by, and they left their skis and poles there and continued on to the center.
* * *
Back at the cable car depot, Harry—irritated at having been left behind to do a junior agent’s job—found the control room. He knocked on the door, and a moment later a man in his sixties with thick white hair and a matching beard opened the door a crack and peered out. Harry spoke to the attendant in Italian.
“I’m here to inspect the system.”
“May I see your ID, please?” The man seemed friendly enough, but he didn’t open the door any further.
Harry nodded politely and then raised his watch and fired a tranquilizer dart at the man’s neck. The dart missed by a fraction of an inch and thunked into the door frame. The man looked at the dart, eyes wide, and then he turned to face Harry.
“Terribly sorry,” Harry said.
Moving swiftly, he stepped forward, snatched a fire extinguisher off the wall, and slammed it against the man’s head hard enough to knock him unconscious. He caught the man as he fell, and he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, removing the dart from the jamb first, of course. He tossed the dart to the ground and then gently lowered the attendant to the floor. The man might be one of Poppy’s employees, but he might be a civilian who’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. In that case, there was no need to injure him any further.
Harry cursed his bad aim, but it was comforting to know that he could still get the job done, even if he was forced to resort to less elegant methods. Maybe it was a matter of depth perception. He did, after all, have only one eye now. He made a mental note to speak to Merlin about it, and then he stepped over to the depot’s control panel and put the extinguisher down. As he stood there, he began doing the one thing he hated most about spy work: waiting.
* * *
Eggsy and Jack stood in an open area outside the visitor center. Clara was nowhere to be seen, and neither was anyone else for that m
atter. The place appeared deserted. Eggsy remembered when he and Merlin had first discovered Statesman’s hidden headquarters.
“I reckon she is…” Eggsy pointed to the ground. “We just need to find the way down.”
He set off toward the visitor center. After a moment, Jack followed.
Aside from a clerk sitting at an information desk, the place was empty. Eggsy and Jack walked around, pretending to browse pamphlets detailing local attractions and perusing an historical exhibit about the mountain. But in reality they were using the sensors in their watches to scan for hidden entrances. Eventually they found themselves in a quiet corridor, and Eggsy’s watch indicated one section of the wall that appeared to be what they were searching for.
“Looks like a door about… here.” He stopped in front of a wall and pointed.
Jack stepped forward and held his watch close to the wall. He was wearing his Statesman eyeglasses, and he reached up with his other hand and gently tapped an earpiece to activate them.
“Ginger? You see anything?” he asked.
Eggsy pictured Ginger in her lab at Statesman HQ, looking over the data Jack’s watch was transmitting to one of her computers. He wondered if Merlin was sitting by her side. Probably. Ever since they met those two had been joined at the hip. Peas in a pod, he thought, and smiled.
“Yep. Concealed door. Some pretty complex electronics… Looks like it needs a smart key. Gonna take me about an hour to crack, unless you can send me higher-res data.”
When Eggsy heard Ginger’s assessment over his own comms, he stepped forward and scanned the wall with his watch. Nothing against Statesman gear, but Merlin had made this watch, and Eggsy knew the quality of the man’s work was second to none. He wasn’t surprised to hear Merlin’s voice next.
“That’s better. Galahad’s is crystal clear. Mind if I have a go?”
This was followed by the sound of someone typing swiftly on a keyboard.
Several moments later, a hidden door slid open, revealing a stone staircase leading downward.
He gave Jack a grin, as if to say, One more point for Kingsman.
“Go,” Jack said. “I’ll cover the door.”
Eggsy nodded and started down the steps. A second later, the door slid shut and lights built into the ceiling activated. The steps descended for quite a way into the mountain, but eventually Eggsy reached the bottom and found himself standing in a cavernous laboratory. Several dozen people wearing lab coats, safety goggles, respirator masks, and rubber gloves were working at long tables filled with chemistry equipment. On one side of the lab were huge steel vats, along with complex control stations; on the other a warehouse space, with forklifts, packing material, and stacks of cardboard boxes. And there were guards of course—a lot of them—stationed all about the place, wearing black uniforms and caps with the Golden Circle logo on them, and armed with Heckler & Koch submachine guns.
And as Eggsy stepped into the lab, every single person stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him. Including, naturally, the guards. For an awkward moment, no one spoke or moved, and then one of the guards walked over to Eggsy.
“Who are you?” the man asked. He didn’t seem as if he were challenging Eggsy, exactly. He sounded more confused than anything.
Eggsy smiled. “You guys did not make this place easy to find.”
Eggsy knew he had to think fast before the guards came to their senses and unleashed a hellstorm of machine-gun fire. He looked around and saw a pile of cardboard boxes that had been left near the lab entrance. On the top box was a sticky note with for collection written on it.
“I’m… here to collect these,” Eggsy said as casually as he could manage under the circumstances.
The guard frowned. “For Boris Batko? Singapore?”
Eggsy didn’t bat an eye. “Yeah.”
The guard checked a clipboard. “You’re… Wu Ting Feng?”
Eggsy smiled. “Yup.”
The guard took a step closer to Eggsy. The man’s eyes narrowed and he raised his gun barrel a couple of inches. Eggsy’s smile didn’t falter.
Finally, the guard shrugged and gestured to the box. The deep breath that Eggsy wasn’t aware he had been holding rushed out of him. He gave the man a nod of thanks, and reached for the box. But before he could take hold of it, an electronically synthesized voice shouted from the other side of the lab.
“How are you still alive?”
Charlie was coming toward them, and Clara was with him. When they reached Eggsy and Jack, they stopped and stared in shock.
“River?” Clara said. “What are you doing here?”
There were no blue splotches on Clara’s skin. Obviously, she’d been given the antidote.
Charlie looked at Clara, then at Eggsy, his face darkening with dawning fury.
Eggsy smiled. “What happens at Glasto stays at Glasto.” He winked at Charlie, grabbed the box on top of the stack, and turned and ran like hell.
“Motherfucker!” Charlie shouted.
Angry voices echoed in the tunnel as Eggsy raced up the stairs, and he could hear the footfalls of his pursuers. With each passing second, it sounded as if they were closer. Eggsy assumed Charlie was one of those on his tail, along with a number of guards, but he didn’t turn back to look. He was just grateful they couldn’t fire their weapons and run up the stairs at the same time, or else he would’ve been done for.
When he reached the top of the stairs, the secret door slid open, and he jumped through into the corridor, surprising Jack.
“Jam it, Ginger!” Jack shouted, and the door instantly slid closed.
A second later, they heard shouts and pounding from the other side.
Eggsy and Jack ran through the visitor center, passed the shocked woman at the information desk, and plunged outside into the cold mountain air. They ran for the ski rack, grabbed their skis and poles, and flew into the cable car, which Harry—as per their plan—had returned to the summit and made sure remained there until they needed it. The car immediately began to descend, but as it did, Eggsy saw Charlie and a group of guards come racing toward the cable car stop.
Too late, mate! Eggsy thought.
Jack shouted to Harry over his comms, “Galahad! We’re coming! All clear at the bottom?”
Eggsy couldn’t wait any longer. He tore the box open and saw a number of vials that looked exactly like the antidote on Poppy’s video. He removed one and examined it more closely to make sure, and a huge grin split his face. Fuck, yeah! They’d done it!
He flipped Charlie the bird and held up the vial so he could see it.
Harry replied to Jack. “All clear, but—”
Harry’s words cut out, and the cable car lurched to a halt.
Eggsy looked through the car’s window and saw Charlie holding a computer tablet and grinning. The bastard had shut the cable car system down by remote control. He heard Charlie’s voice over his glasses’ comms.
“Hello, Eggy. Enjoy the ride, bruv.”
Charlie’s fingers flew across the computer screen, and his face took on an expression of cruel delight. Eggsy understood why when the cable car began to rotate. Eggsy and Jack grabbed hanging straps and held tight. Their feet lifted off the floor as the speed of the car’s rotation increased rapidly, and soon they could no longer maintain hold of the straps. Their hands slipped away and they slammed into the wall, pinned there by centrifugal force.
Eggsy heard Harry’s voice come over the comms.
“Controls are gone. The thing’s out of control. You’re on your own, Eggsy.”
The cable car spun faster and faster, and Eggsy felt as if a giant hand were pushing him against its wall, increasing its pressure with each passing second. A dark grayness nibbled at the edges of his vision, and he knew he was on the verge of losing consciousness. He almost blacked out, but when the box of antidote was torn from his fingers, a jolt of adrenaline shot through him, and his mind cleared. He watched in dismay as the vials spilled from the box, flew around the cab
le car, struck metal surfaces, and shattered. Wait! What about the one he’d been holding? He couldn’t turn his head to look, but he could feel the vial in his hand. His fingers must’ve reflexively closed around it when the cable car began to spin. Thank god!
And then he felt the vial begin to slip from his hand. He fought to hold onto it, knowing it was their last chance to cure Poppy’s virus and save millions of lives, but the force of the spinning car had grown too strong. The vial left his hand in a sudden rush, and he expected to hear it shatter like the others, but he only heard it clink-clink-clink as it rolled around on the wall, held there by the same centrifugal forces that trapped them. He tried to reach for the vial, but his arms were pinned to the wall so strongly, it was as if his body was becoming part of the metal.
The car continued to spin faster, ever faster.
Eggsy’s surge of adrenaline was subsiding, and the blackness was back, sliding across his vision like a dark cloth. Like an eyepatch, he thought. He’d been experiencing vertigo since the car had begun its mad spinning, but now it seemed to increase a thousand-fold, and he felt a punch of nausea in his gut.
Now Harry had returned from the dead, it was his time to die. Irony’s a bitch, he thought.
Eggsy saw Jack reach for his lasso handle. Or, more precisely, the button on the end of the handle. Like Eggsy, Jack couldn’t pull his arm away from the wall, but he was just barely able to stretch his fingers enough to brush the button. That was all it took, though. The rope unfurled as if it had a life of its own, and an aura of crackling energy surrounded it, transforming it into a curling, whipping length of light. Eggsy realized he was looking at an honest-to-Christ electro-lasso.
That. Is. Fucking. AWESOME! he thought.
Jack wasn’t able to take hold of the lasso’s handle, so the coiling energy flailed wildly around the cable car’s interior, lashing the walls and floor, burning through metal and leaving blackened scorch marks. The rope almost struck Eggsy’s left hand, missing it by inches, only to shear off the tip of Jack’s right boot. The electrified rope then curved upward, struck the car’s ceiling, penetrated the metal, and sliced through the cable above.