September

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September Page 8

by Gabrielle Lord


  102 days to go …

  I’d slept for a few hours in a quiet shed, deep in someone’s backyard, and now it was time to move on. It had been hard falling asleep. I couldn’t get Repro out of my mind—I was wondering where he was, and what he was doing. Where would he find a place to sleep?

  I was also thinking about my double, Ryan Spencer, and how I was going to make contact with him.

  As I stood up, trying to make a decision on the direction I’d take, my mobile buzzed. I fished it out of my backpack—a message from Boges.

  going to w’s this morning. around 11. coming? plan operation moth invasion?

  definitely. i’ll b there.

  ‘What happened to you?’ asked Boges, frowning. ‘You look like you’ve just been flung out of a cyclone!’

  Winter poked her head around Boges to get a look at me for herself. Her nose scrunched up in disgust, before a look of concern took over.

  I brushed my hands through my hair, sending dust flying, and held out my grazed, bruised arms. ‘More like a mining disaster,’ I said, before having to explain my catastrophic night at Repro’s—from capture through to the collapse.

  Boges and Winter both felt as sorry for Repro as I did. They asked me what he was going to do without his lair.

  I wished I had an answer.

  I felt a million times better after a hot shower, and when I stepped over to Boges and Winter I saw that they’d sketched up a rough diagram of Oriana’s house and grounds. It was spread out over the table and they were both leaning over it, making adjustments here and there, pointing out the best way of approach. I noticed Boges had brought the duffel bag with him.

  ‘Come and check it out,’ Boges said. He looked at me expectantly. ‘We should do it tonight.’

  ‘You’re in? Are you sure?’

  ‘You can’t do it on your own. Hopefully this tree,’ he said, pointing to it on the diagram, ‘is big enough for the both of us! Nah, I’m just kidding,’ he said. ‘I don’t need to be that close. You’re on your own there.’ Boges laughed and patted me on the back. ‘I’ll wait across the road. There’s a spot here that I’ve sussed out,’ he said, indicating a house on the diagram that was opposite Oriana’s. ‘It has a double garage with a roof that looks like the perfect spot for me to set up my listening post. It’s well within five hundred metres of our target. We’ll meet up there once you’ve planted the bug. Sorry, the moth.’

  I glanced at Winter, who was looking a bit disappointed to be missing out on the action. Keeping two people undercover was going to be tough enough already and it was going to be a hugely risky move. Sumo and Kelvin were still taking turns patrolling the premises.

  ‘So that means once the moth is planted,’ I began, ‘we’ll be staying up there on the roof all night listening?’

  ‘Right,’ said Boges, lifting the rifle out of the duffel bag. ‘Oriana seems to be most active—and hopefully talkative—at night. A nocturnal creature. I can always catch up with my sleep during History. Now let’s get some practice!’

  Both dressed in black, Boges and I huddled down in the dark. We were about to go to our separate posts. He pointed out the roof of the garage on the other side of the street where he was planning on hiding. It was perfect—detached from the house it belonged to, next to a scalable lattice fence, and obscured by the thick foliage of an overhanging tree.

  Boges was equipped with earphones and a small, specialised FM radio receiver that he’d tuned to pick up the transmission from the bug. He handed me the duffel bag and wished me luck.

  The hope of information on the location of the Jewel and the Riddle was making me tense. Not only did I have to nail my one shot, I also had to count on Oriana, or one of her thugs, revealing something crucial to my search in the small, ten- to twelve-hour bracket of eavesdropping the moth would give us. I was nervous with anticipation, but felt excited too.

  I also had to remain invisible. There was no way I could let myself get caught on the grounds of Oriana de la Force’s house. Especially not with a rifle in my bag. I looked at the dark blue Mercedes parked in the driveway and shuddered.

  When the coast was clear, I scaled the tall metal fence and skulked through the shadows up to the pine tree.

  I was about to haul myself up into the lower branches when I heard something. It was the front door, opening. I knew I couldn’t be seen from the front entrance but I also knew I wouldn’t be safe from view if someone started patrolling through the garden.

  When I saw Sumo’s figure emerge I knew that was exactly what was happening!

  I had studied his routine and knew that he would walk through the front garden and all the way around the side of the house to the back, then up the other side and back towards the main entrance. From there he would check the street before returning inside the house. My mind was working like crazy, trying to decide what to do. I didn’t want to start climbing up the tree now in case he heard me, or the unusual movement in the branches caught his eye.

  The only thing I could do to avoid detection—and I’d need a whole lot of luck to get away with it—was to crouch beneath the lowest branches and slowly slide myself around the base of the tree trunk, inching along out of sight, as Sumo moved past me.

  Sumo strode through the garden, whistling to himself, pausing every now and then to look around before continuing on his way. Stealthily, I started my revolution around the tree. I moved silently, clutching the duffel bag upright and close to me, trying to be as flat and inconspicuous as possible.

  From behind the trunk, I heard his footsteps fading as he vanished down the side of the house towards the back garden. I had a small window of opportunity to move. I made a fast decision. Quick as lightning I threw myself up onto the first branches of the pine tree, lugging my bag behind me, and pulled my way up.

  I peered down, completely concealed—I hoped—by the bushy pine needles. I was safe. So far.

  Moments later, Sumo re-appeared in the front garden, and after a quick sweep of the street, I heard him slam the front door. I exhaled in relief.

  By the time I was in position, straddling a branch opposite Oriana’s study window, I was drenched in sweat.

  I looked straight through the new grille on her open window and watched Oriana herself sitting there, reading something at her desk, her red hair shining in the light. If this evil woman had her way, Gabbi and I would both be dead. I gritted my teeth and tried to focus on what I was here to do.

  Clamping the bough tightly with my thighs, I pushed hard against the trunk of the tree, steadying myself as much as possible. Carefully, I lifted the air rifle out of the bag and raised it, practising sighting down its length, cradling the forestock in my left hand, my right forefinger outside the trigger guard. I squinted along the barrel and over the small V-shaped sight at the tip. I aimed it towards the inside wall of the top of the office, at a shadowy corner above her door. Away from ceiling light and the desk lamp this corner provided the perfect spot for my moth to cling unnoticed.

  There’s no point wasting any more time, I told myself. I opened the air rifle ready to load it and made sure it was steady, wedged between smaller branches, while I lifted the mothified bug out of its box.

  My fingers trembled as I held the moth in my hands. I gently activated it by pressing the tiny switch with the tip of a paperclip, and then pressed it into the modified chamber. I relocked the rifle into firing position.

  Again, I raised it to eye level and peered along the length of the barrel towards my target.

  The moth had to shoot through the grille, through the window, and stick high on the wall in Oriana’s office. I tried to stop thinking about how narrow the path was. This was it.

  ‘Here goes,’ I whispered.

  I took a deep breath, exhaled, and in the space between breaths, I pulled the trigger.

  Over the snap of the compressed air crack, I heard a strange ‘ding’ sound. Ding? What happened?

  Oriana lifted her head and looked out the window.


  I ducked, shrinking down. Something had gone horribly wrong and Oriana had been alerted! Slowly she stood up and clicked over the red and black tiles to the window.

  I’d totally stuffed up the operation. I’d wasted my chance and Boges’s money, and now I was about to be sprung!

  Oriana’s bright, green eyes darted left and right. Her purply-pink lips were pursed tightly in a vicious scowl. The sight of her face sent chills up my spine.

  I squashed myself flat along the bough, praying that I wouldn’t be seen, staring straight down at the branch beneath the one I was hugging.

  There was something stuck there! The moth!

  I didn’t dare move to investigate. I waited and waited, wishing that Oriana would decide the noise was nothing and move away from the window. As I stared at the moth, frozen still, I realised what had happened—what I’d done wrong.

  The moth had struck the wrought iron of one of the bars and ricocheted back to me, lodging in the branch below. I couldn’t believe it. I’d messed up and completely forgotten to consider the slightly crooked aim of the old rifle, but I couldn’t believe my good luck! The moth had come right back to me, offering me a second chance! As long as Oriana stopped scanning the view from her window …

  Incredibly, at that moment, she turned and walked back to her desk.

  Straightaway I started climbing down the trunk to reach the moth that was stuck on one of the lower branches. I hoped it wasn’t damaged.

  ‘Oops,’ I whispered into it as I pulled it off the branch—I figured Boges would be listening in and wondering what happened. ‘Messed the first shot up. I’ll get it this time, don’t worry.’

  Back on my platform, I reloaded the rifle, slotting the moth back into the chamber for its second flight. I snapped the air rifle back to its locked and ready-to-fire position.

  ‘Here goes,’ I whispered for the second time, angling the rifle slightly off target.

  I took a deep breath … and fired.

  This time I heard nothing but a rush of air. I squinted at my target.

  I’d done it! Only a centimetre or two off, the moth was planted firmly on the wall in the corner!

  Oriana’s head jerked around to the doorway and I panicked. Had she heard it? But luck was on my side again because right then the door swung open—Sumo was there to join her.

  He walked into the room and before long they were deep in conversation. Elation ran through me! I’d done it! Now all they needed to do was keep on talking and let the transmitter pick it all up for us!

  I was hanging to get back to the listening post with Boges to see if we could pick something helpful up, but I couldn’t rush and take chances now. I slowly and quietly descended from the pine tree and made my way through the dark garden, over the fence and back to the road. I had to duck behind a tree when a car went past, knowing that I would cut a menacing figure, dressed in black, carrying a long duffel bag.

  When the coast was clear, I skulked across the road and ran to the double garage, looking around to make sure no-one was in sight as I hauled myself up.

  ‘Dude, I have them!’ hissed Boges’s voice. He clearly wanted to shout out with excitement, but knew he had to try and keep to a whisper. ‘Come and listen! You did it! The moth worked! I’m listening to them talk right now!’

  ‘I almost messed it up—’

  ‘I know! I heard you swear after that “pinging” noise!’

  ‘Yeah,’ I almost laughed. ‘It ricocheted off a bar, but luckily it came right back to me, like a boomerang.’

  Boges was tuning his small radio, which was making a low, humming sound.

  ‘Here,’ he said, passing me one of the earphones.

  Over the humming static was Oriana’s unmistakeable voice, loud and clear!

  ‘My client can’t possibly appear in court on that date,’ she said.

  ‘That’s her!’ I hissed. ‘That’s Oriana!’

  Boges grinned and nodded knowingly.

  ‘He has a court attendance regarding another matter,’ Oriana’s voice continued.

  ‘What’s she talking about?’ I asked.

  Boges waved his hand to shush me. ‘She’s on the phone to someone. Just listen.’

  It soon became clear that she was talking to a solicitor about some case she was involved in. Nothing to do with the Ormond Riddle or Jewel.

  We heard her footsteps clattering out of the room and then returning—Oriana in her heels—then heard the sound of her chair scraping as she re-seated herself.

  Then there was nothing …

  We’d only been listening in for a matter of minutes, but I glanced over at Boges, impatiently. ‘Sumo was in the study earlier,’ I said. ‘I saw him walk in.’

  ‘Yep, he pretty much just told her the grounds were clear, before whining about one of his shoes being squeaky. She told him to quit his complaining and then he walked out. Hang on—’

  The sound of Oriana’s heels clicked across the floor again. But this time they didn’t come back.

  She’d left the room.

  Boges and I had been camped on the roof of the garage opposite Oriana’s for over an hour now, and for most of that time Oriana had not been in her study, and we had not picked up any useful information.

  I was lying back on the roof, looking up at the night sky, thinking of the smile on Gabbi’s face after she’d discovered the drawing I flew to her. Already I wanted to see her again.

  Someone else I wanted to see again was Ryan Spencer. Didn’t he want to find out about me, too? Or was he afraid of knowing what that would mean?

  I wondered how Mum, or Rafe, had reacted on finding the bus pass I’d left for them.

  The clicking heels were back. Boges thumped my arm and I sat bolt upright, listening.

  ‘It’s me,’ said Oriana, sounding as though she were on the phone again. ‘Yes. All safely lodged with Zürich Bank. The Riddle, too.’

  The Riddle!

  Boges and I glared at each other silently—we were both too scared to talk and miss her next words.

  ‘Yes, a safety deposit box,’ she said.

  Boges looked worried—it was obvious he was unhappy hearing about Zürich Bank. How could we possibly retrieve the Jewel if it was in the possession of a bank?

  ‘I have a cryptographer working on the drawings,’ she said.

  Oriana had someone trained in breaking codes working for her! Thank goodness Winter had tampered with them!

  ‘Once we have all the information together,’ Oriana continued, ‘we can move to the next phase. Time is running out and my expert is getting nowhere with the Ormond Riddle. However, he’s convinced it’s connected to the Tudor Queen … Yes … Yes … Absolutely! What do you think I am? An amateur?’ she said before briskly hanging up.

  Her chair scraped again and the disappearing clatter of her heels told us she’d left the room, yet again.

  After a couple of minutes we heard the sound of a door opening, followed by the sound of taps being turned on and running water.

  ‘She’s about to have a bath!’ I said to Boges. ‘Our transmitting time is slipping away while she soaks!’

  Boges was distracted. He silently pointed to Oriana’s front yard. I peered through the leaves over the garage to see Sumo checking the grounds again. I strained to see what he had in his hand, but I couldn’t make it out. Was it a weapon?

  ‘He’s paranoid,’ I said, ‘and he has reason to be. Maybe he’s sensed something going on.’

  Sumo stood near the entrance to the driveway and appeared to squint down the road, scanning the street. Surely he couldn’t know about us, hiding on the neighbour’s garage roof. I froze, scared that he’d see us despite the leaves that surrounded us. This guy was a bodyguard, his job was to know what was in his environment. If he knew what was going on—that we’d bugged his employer—we’d both be dead.

  I breathed out again as he turned and walked up the driveway and to the front door. He disappeared inside the house.

  Relieved,
we turned our attention back to our receiver. Oriana was singing to herself. She sounded horrendous.

  ‘She sounds like she’s gargling,’ I said.

  ‘More like drowning,’ said Boges. ‘My uncle’s metal grinder sounds better than she does.’

  ‘What if she gets out of the bath and just goes to bed?’ I asked with alarm. ‘We’ll be sitting here all night wearing out our battery listening to her snore!’

  ‘Chill out. She’s a busy woman. My bet is she’ll be out of that bath pretty quickly. You’ve seen her here at night—she’s always up late.’

  He was right. The dreadful warbling continued and I was about to turn the volume down when I thought I heard Sumo’s voice.

  ‘Listen,’ I said, prodding Boges. ‘Sumo’s yelling out something.’

  ‘Hey boss! You upstairs?’ came the voice over the radio.

  ‘He’s looking for Madame de la Force,’ hissed Boges.

  The dreadful singing stopped.

  ‘I’m in the bath, Cyril!’ Oriana snapped.

  Boges and I looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. Cyril? Sumo sure didn’t look like a Cyril!

  ‘I suggest you get out of the bath,’ Sumo called out, his voice a little clearer, but still muffled. ‘We have a problem.’

  We heard a swish of water and I imagined Oriana suddenly sitting up in the bath.

  ‘What is it, Cyril? I really don’t fancy leaving this tub right now.’

  ‘An unauthorised transmission,’ he said firmly. ‘Unless you’re sitting in the bath transmitting at around 33 megahertz, we have a problem.’

  Boges and I looked at each other in horror.

  ‘What on earth are you talking about? I’m not transmitting anything. I’m trying to enjoy a bath,’ came Oriana’s surly voice.

 

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