‘I probably need the practice,’ she said, sounding less than keen.
‘OK,’ I said, darting into the shadows. I moved past a long line of shops, feeling the suspicious eyes of window mannequins tracing my progress, and took a left past a hairdresser and a chemist. I flew low against the pavement, down the street, then circled around and peeked out from behind a large red brick building. The station was about fifty feet up the road. I looked across the street and focused on a lamppost. Grip. Twist. Dislodge. It took me about five seconds to uproot it, with an eye-spasming screech and a shower of sparks, and once it was fully free of the ground I swung it around and smashed two shop windows, scattering iridescent shards across the tarmac to mingle with the frost. Immediately two different alarms started to blare, piercing the eerie silence like the howls of electronic dogs, and I turned and headed back down the road, hearing the yell of soldiers and the roar of an engine behind me. I chanced a look and sure enough the truck was motoring in my direction. Both the soldiers had climbed aboard and were hanging off the foot plates at the side. Yes. I took a sharp right down another street, looped around several buildings and flew straight back to the station, alighting at the entrance, losing them with such ease that it was almost disappointing.
I met Lauren on the platform. She was removing two chocolate bars from the vending machine. ‘Well done,’ she said, handing me one.
‘Cheers.’ I pocketed it. ‘Jump on.’
Wearing a slightly uncomfortable expression, Lauren climbed on my back. She held a torch in front of us, and I jumped into the tunnel and started to fly.
It took about half an hour to reach our intended station. Rather than face off with any guards there might have been, we broke out using a network of grimy service passages, snapping locks with our minds. We emerged on to the street and stood in the shadows for a moment, keeping out of sight in case of enemies, then continued to follow Nailah’s directions. We passed a few nervous pedestrians who kept their eyes on the floor, and while there were still cars driving around, there were nowhere near as many as there should have been. This is too strange.
Presently we arrived at a looming, dead-faced block of flats. We’d been instructed not to ring the bell or do anything else that was likely to attract attention, so I sent Nailah the coded text we had agreed upon and Eddie emerged from the darkness a few moments later, smiling. ‘Took your time.’
‘Needed to tear up a lamppost and lose some soldiers,’ I said. ‘You know how it is.’
Eddie led us up many flights of stairs and along a corridor that smelled half of lavender and half of sweat, stopping outside a pale wooden door which he swiftly unlocked with a key that looked newer than everything in the building combined. The door gave way to a narrow hall with a banana-coloured carpet and walls covered in newspaper clippings, and Eddie took us through to a cramped living room. The place stank of cigarette smoke. Lush.
Connor, Sharon, Skank and Daryl were there, along with Nailah and a guy I didn’t recognise. Before I could say anything, Sharon jumped up from the lime green sofa and ran over to give me a hug. I was so pleased to see her that I didn’t think about the fact that she might be cross, and it was one of the best hugs I’d ever had. When she drew back and I really looked at her there was nothing in her eyes that indicated anger or disappointment and I was so glad that it almost hurt. ‘You’re OK?’ I said.
‘Fine. You?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Fine. Um . . . sorry.’
‘Never mind,’ she said. Connor stood up now, his face bruised and cut, and I held out my hand slightly gingerly.
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘Man . . . nasty bruises.’
‘You should see the other guys,’ said Connor. He shook my hand and laughed quietly. Anyone who wasn’t aware of what had been happening between us might not have realised anything was amiss, but I could see it in his eyes. I resolved to get him on his own at some point and try to sort things out. Skank, who was sitting next to him, nodded.
‘Stanly,’ he said. I might have just come in for work.
‘Skank.’
Daryl came over to me and I patted him on the head. ‘You all right, chief?’
‘Safe and sound,’ I said.
‘Good. Now please don’t patronise me again.’
‘Patronise?’
‘Don’t say that again, either.’
I looked over at the other two. Nailah waved slightly awkwardly and I offered a sheepish smile in return. The guy I didn’t recognise was wiry and bald and wore black and blue denim, and although I felt instantly suspicious, I smiled and held out my hand anyway. ‘Stanly.’
‘Maguire,’ he said, in a gravelly Scottish accent. It was painfully obvious that our feelings were mutual.
‘Nice to meet you.’
Now an adjoining door opened and Mr Freeman emerged from the kitchen with a tray bearing a large blue tea pot, a jug of milk, several mismatched cups and a tub of sugar. I blinked at this bizarre apparition, and he smiled thinly and nodded at me. ‘Stanly. Glad to see you’re in one piece.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘And you.’ I guess.
‘Are Tara and Kloe all right?’
Don’t mention them again, please. ‘Yeah.’
Lauren, who had been standing behind me radiating nervousness, stepped hesitantly forwards and there was another round of slightly strained introductions. We sat down, and tea was poured. ‘So,’ I said, breezily. ‘What’s the crack?’
Skank looked expectantly at Maguire, who stood up. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Let’s cut to the meat and bone, shall we? The Angel Group. Worldwide organisation, funded up the arse and out the other end. More influence, power and technology than any other group or government. We found out recently that they’ve got a whole crowd of your lot under their control. Your lot being powered-up sorts.’
Yeah, got that.
‘Now,’ said Maguire. ‘You’ve met monsters, haven’t you?’
‘A few,’ I said.
‘Freakish beasts from “somewhere else”,’ he continued. ‘Some unspecificed other place. That was all we knew for a long time. But recently, through Freeman here, we’ve discovered that the Angel Group is using teams of empowered, as well as the most advanced technology they can get their hands on – and that’s some shiny, spanking, highly illegal kit – to break through to that other place so they can harness the power that’s there. Raw energy, more potent than anything ever created on Earth. A valuable resource, to say the least.’
‘And we don’t know where that is?’ I said. ‘This other place?’
‘Not even the Angel Group do,’ said Mr Freeman. ‘While plenty of creatures have found their way through to this side, return trips have been unsuccessful.’
‘So they’ve been letting the monsters in?’ said Lauren. ‘On purpose?’
‘More as a side effect,’ said Maguire. ‘Of their experiments, the majority of which seem to be based in London. That’s why so much bizarre crap goes down in this city. The stray monsters, Smiley Joe, those living pictures you lot told us about. All products of the Angel Group trying to bust a crack in reality and suck out the juice. We’ve been building up intelligence on where these experiments happen. Defences, personnel, everything. And the plan is to take them out.’
‘Woah,’ said Eddie, ‘hold on. Look, we’ve been discussing courses of action, survival tactics and whatnot up and down and in and out, and getting nowhere. There’s ten of us here. Twelve counting your other mates . . .’
‘Who are where, by the way?’ I said.
‘Out and about,’ said Maguire. ‘We decided it wasn’t necessary for them to be here.’
‘Oh “we” did, did we? That’s reassuring.’
‘If all you’re going to do is flap your wee mouth . . .’ growled Maguire.
‘My wee mouth flaps,’ I said. ‘Deal with it. Look, I’m not just being confrontat
ional for the sake of it. This is all good stuff. But put yourself in my shoes, Maguire – I don’t know you from Adam.’ I looked at Skank. ‘Where did you find him?’
Maguire looked about ready to bust some heads, but Skank raised a hand. ‘It’s a fair question, Maguire,’ he said, mildly. ‘I’d expect you to sympathise, as someone who doesn’t like surprises or strangers. Or people, generally. Stanly, you can trust Maguire. I do. I’ve known him for a while now.’
‘How?’
‘One of the guys who couldn’t make it, Fitz, is an old friend,’ said Skank. ‘From the experimental performance poetry scene in the early Nineties.’
I blinked. ‘Of course he is.’
‘I caught up with him again recently via Oracle. He’d been dark for nearly a decade. I found out that he had immersed himself fully in this dodgy business. Met Maguire and Box, the other absent partner, through him.’
‘Box,’ I said.
‘Box.’
‘Right,’ I said. ‘So . . . may I ask why you didn’t tell us about them before?’
‘Because we asked Skank not to,’ said Maguire.
‘Why?’
‘One of the first things we found out,’ said Maguire, ‘is that the Angel Group have spent years gathering their crew of empowered. Apparently some volunteer, although I have my doubts about how much they know before they sign up. Most don’t, though, the Group gets them however they can. Blackmail, coercion, extortion, torture. As soon as Skank told us that he knew not just one empowered but four, we decided that the less you knew about us the better. That way if any of you were taken, you couldn’t tell the Angel Group anything about us. And that meant we could carry on gathering information and planning.’
I nodded. It did make sense. ‘Fair enough. Mercenary, but fair enough.’
‘We’re not mercenaries,’ said Maguire. I wondered if he’d deliberately misunderstood me.
‘No,’ said Eddie, ‘and to return to my original point, neither are we. Yeah, we’ve got some special abilities, you lot have got some heavy artillery, but that’s still just a handful, a thimble full against the police, the army, and whatever else the Angel Group decides to chuck at us. We’re not exactly the A-Team.’
‘We’re not exactly the B-Team,’ said Nailah. ‘I’ve already told you, I’m happy to help, but I’m not putting on any armour or firing any guns.’
‘And no-one’s expecting you to,’ said Maguire, with an exasperated roll of his eyes. ‘For Christ’s sake, obviously we don’t just run in with our arses hanging out. Freeman, Skank and I have a plan in the works. We won’t just go stumbling in throwing cars about and hoping we get somewhere.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I said.
‘You know what it means,’ said Maguire. ‘I’ve heard your story, Mr Chosen One. Yeah, you’re crammed full of that power, yeah I respect that, but your chosen strategy of running around blindly until you happen to trip over whatever you’re looking for doesn’t seem to have done you many favours, has it?’
‘Maguire,’ began Eddie, warningly.
‘No,’ I said. ‘He’s right. It hasn’t done me a great deal of good. In fact it’s got me nearly blown up, and then nearly shot to death, and a few other things. But I’m presuming you’re going to want to utilise my power for this little crusade. And so far, you’ve shown me diddly fuck-all that makes me want to raise one psychic finger on your behalf. So how about keeping your comments to yourself and getting on with it.’
Maguire went red. ‘You want to watch your mouth.’
‘Don’t think I do,’ I said.
‘Sorry if this is a stupid question,’ said Connor, ‘but did anybody, at any point, consider not going full vigilante and maybe taking all this information to the authorities?’
‘The authorities who are definitely in the pocket of the bad guys?’ said Maguire. ‘No, actually, that’s not an option we’d considered, ’cos I didn’t really fancy having all my research shredded and then getting flushed away to some black site for the rest of my natural life.’
Connor’s eye actually twitched at that. ‘Now you listen to me, mate—’
‘I’d rather not, to be honest—’
‘Everybody be quiet,’ said Sharon. She didn’t say it loudly, but her voice burned with authority and presence, and it had the desired effect. Maguire shut up. I shut up. Everyone looked at Sharon, who didn’t even need to stand. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘It’s all stress all the time at the moment. We don’t all know each other. We don’t all trust each other. But I’m having trouble seeing how getting in one another’s faces and mouthing off is helping anything. Maybe it’s just a testosterone issue, in which case keep it in your trousers please, boys. Eddie’s right, there aren’t many of us. And personally, I was banking on not doing any more fighting for at least . . . hmm . . . my whole life.’ I had to look away at that. Part of me still felt like it was my fault that she and Connor and Eddie had been dragged into this, and I knew Connor thought it too. ‘But,’ Sharon continued, ‘this is what’s happening. Something bigger than us. Something bad. And unfortunately, we’re the ones with the information and the power. So we’ll get it done. And we need to work together, which means getting along, which means that if anyone has any issues or little sarky comments, keep them to yourselves, like Stanly says. That does include you too, though, Stanly. OK?’
There was a general chorus of shame-faced nodding, even from the people who hadn’t been arguing. Sharon nodded. ‘OK. Now. Where are we in terms of the plan?’
‘It’s in the early stages,’ said Freeman. Reassuring. ‘I’m still waiting for some crucial information.’
‘Where from?’ I said.
‘I have sources.’ Again, reassuring.
‘And so do I,’ said Nailah. Everyone’s gazes were suddenly fixed on her and she quickly shared, in the briefest possible terms, a few details about her mysterious contact, which basically left us none the wiser. She said she’d try and get as much as she could out of them, but that she couldn’t promise anything.
‘The most important thing to remember,’ said Freeman, ‘is that we must not underestimate the Angel Group. The power, influence and resources that they have built up . . . it has taken many decades. And they are nothing if not ruthless.’
‘Seems simple enough to me,’ said Nailah. ‘Strike at the heart, and—’
‘It’s not simple,’ said Freeman, acidly. ‘There is no “heart”. The Angel Group is not a single entity weaving a single evil plot on a global scale. If you had any idea about how companies work, or how governments work, or how conspiracies work, you’d see how facile that idea is. The Angel Group is the corporate front. It occupies key positions in global finance and trade, funnelling eye-popping sums of money – entirely legally and legitimately – into any of a thousand sub-sections, sub-divisions and departments. Those who work in the shiny public-facing buildings investing and trading do not know where even one per cent of the money ends up. How stupid do you think they are? Money is secured. What other departments do with it is up to them. The right hand does not hold regular conflabs with the left. In fact, the right hand is more than likely not even aware of the left’s existence.’
‘What’s your point, Freeman?’ said Maguire. ‘As fascinating as the ins and outs of the Angel Group’s finances are . . .’
‘My point,’ said Freeman, ‘is that while our main focus must be on the Group’s most secretive, experimental department . . . unofficially referred to as Unique Initiatives, by the way, if you’re interested . . . the company will not magically collapse overnight as soon as we foil this particular scheme. There’s Department 9 for example, another secretive wing. Part defence contractor, part supernatural task force. You’ve seen the soldiers in the flash black ensembles? Those nifty drones buzzing around in the sky?’
‘I have,’ I said.
‘Department 9,
’ said Freeman. ‘A private army, to all intents and purposes, headed up by a team of elite advisors who in turn channel the wishes of the higher-ups. When major otherworldly events occur requiring official attention – like that blue dog, and the problem of you, Stanly – the UK government defers to Department 9.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘So, like Maguire said . . . what’s your point? Or are you just trying to depress everybody to death?’
‘I’m just making sure that we are all aware of the enormity of the task before us,’ said Freeman. ‘The Angel Group and its myriad subsidiaries are demonstrably not working to the benefit of mankind. I know I’ve not been the most trustworthy ally to you in the past, but if we are to have a chance of winning this fight, we need to be certain of two things. One, that we are united. And two, that we will go the distance.’
‘Well, I for one feel very inspired,’ said Maguire. ‘So inspired that I might just head out to the balcony and hurl myself off it.’
‘Join the queue,’ I said.
That actually raised a grim smile. Hey, maybe we’ll be bestest buddies after all. ‘So,’ said Maguire, ‘if nobody has anything else to add, I suggest that we bugger off.’
‘I would like to add one thing, actually,’ said Nailah, ‘which kind of follows on from what Freeman was saying. It doesn’t seem realistic to try to bring the whole circus down just by fighting it with superpowers. So I’m aiming to collect as much data as possible, so that once we’ve accomplished our main objective we can dump it onto the internet for the world to see.’
‘Yeah, sounds useful,’ said Maguire, not bothering to hide the sneer in his voice.
‘More useful than a bunch of wannabe Howling Commandos taking on the most powerful corporation in the world,’ shot back Nailah. ‘Why do you think I run the blogs? To give paranoid stoners something to whisper about? There’s bad stuff happening, worse than anyone knows, and the first step towards changing that is persuading normal people to get off their asses and do something.’
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