Operation_Endgame

by Pip Ballantine

  "Notify the outside world?" the director asked. "How?"

  Eliza stepped forward now. "Æthermissives, postal service, telephone calls, wireless—every conceivable device of communication short of smoke signals and semaphore, but I wouldn’t rule those out either." She motioned to Wellington, adding, "That was something Welly discovered about this grand time machine of yours. To monitor the timeline and then send a signal to your chrono-model meant it connected to every form of communication through—now what was it called? Data streams, I think."

  "The only problem with such a network, Doctor Sound," said Wellington, "is that these streams have to send as well as receive. You didn’t just construct a receiver. You constructed a transmitter as well."

  They stood there for a moment, the three of them, in a wide triangle. Only the low drone of Wells time machine and its Archives echoed around them.

  Hooking his thumbs in his waistcoat, Sound locked his eyes with Wellington's. "You don’t trust me, do you, Books?"

  "Not for a bloody moment," he stated. "Eliza, on the other hand..."

  She motioned around them to Event Control. "Wellington wanted to destroy this fabulous creation of yours. He believed one man wielding such a device was too dangerous. I convinced him that you should keep watch over Event Control, and over the timeline."

  Sound’s eyes narrowed. "Why?"

  "I may not fully grasp the concepts of science such as this, but there is one thing I do know far better than you: spy craft. Secrets never stay secret."

  The Director nodded. Amazing that, even at this point, they agreed on something.

  "New identities. Sealed records. And we disappear," she stated.

  "You are the last person I would expect to settle down for a quiet life," the old man scoffed.

  "I might surprise even myself, Dr Sound, but whether I decide to become a gun for hire or a mother of four that tends on husband and home, it really doesn’t matter to you. Welly and I are, as of this moment, ghosts in the Ministry’s history."

  "Give me some time to make arrangements?"

  Eliza slipped from inside her sash a beautiful gold pocket watch. In the corner of her eye, she caught a glint. Wellington was mirroring her, producing a fine silver pocket watch she had given him. "Do you have the time, love?"

  "Back at Whiterock, it should be five minutes past the hour of five," he replied.

  "Good, I show the same." Eliza slipped the fob back into her sash "You have twenty-four hours."

  Sound gasped. "Twenty-fo—"

  "You’ve launched full operations in half that time. Some of them with me." A single nod from Wellington, and she continued. "Twenty-four hours. Not one tick more."

  Shoulders dropping ever so slightly, Sound removed his spectacles and rubbed his forehead. "I suppose you have me at a complete and utter loss." He took in a long, low breath, and muttered, "Yes. Quite."

  Doctor Sound leaned on his elbows, turning back to the viaduct leading to his office at Whiterock.

  "Mother of four?" Wellington asked, his voice nested in its higher register.

  Eliza shrugged. "Depends on what we get up to back home, now doesn't it?"

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  In Which the House of Usher Looks to the Future

  Wellington Thornhill Books—the product of Project Achilles—was dead, his corpse buried under the scorched remains of a bridge in the Arizona Territories.

  The Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences and the local authorities had shut down the Italian operations of Operation Ragnarök.

  Filippo Rossi, codename Mr Badger, had disappeared. His accounts, his dwellings in Rome, any trace of him is gone. It was as if the man had never existed.

  Despite all this, Henry Howard Holmes had never been better. Today was a fresh day, and the new possibilities ahead appeared oh-so-promising.

  "Well, Chairman…" Mr Tiger’s tone did not sit well with Holmes. "Where to begin?"

  Holmes glanced at the cuffs of his shirt, just visible under the sleeves of his jacket. He gave each of them a tug. He would not be hurried or rushed. He was the embodiment of control.

  "Mr Tiger, you sound rankled by recent events." Holmes cast a glance over to Mr Fox. Under the dim light of the boardroom the poor sod looked positively ghostly. In fact, a sheen gleamed across the man’s forehead. He really was a worrier. "Yes, it would be naïve of me to believe that we are not suffering from recent... misadventures."

  "Misadventures?" asked Miss Bear. The diminutive Russian had been one of his most staunch supporters, especially when Holmes had defended her ability to recover so quickly from bad luck in Warsaw. Once she assumed control and restored lost resources, operations in her sector now flourished far more than they had under her predecessor. "The Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences thwarted us once again, Chairman. We have resources. We have advancements. We have upper-hand. They remain completely unaware of Ragnarök... "

  "As do most of us," Mr Wolf said with a barely suppressed huff.

  Miss Bear shot the American a look. She did not care for interruptions. Holmes found that trait endearing.

  "This is not ‘misadventure’ as you say, Chairman," she stated, jabbing her finger into the table. "This? Disaster!"

  So she was turning on him? Duly noted.

  "The concern you show, regardless of motivation," Holmes began, nodding to Jeremy, "is touching. Truly, it is. And I find it refreshing that there now appears to be a camaraderie between Board Members that was notably absent before my promotion to Chairman."

  "Promotion?" asked Mr Tiger. "Is that what you are calling it now? I thought what you did was more of a coup."

  Holmes shrugged. "A matter of perspective." His gaze drifted over to Mr Cobra, Nahush Kari, and his cousin Makeala, known as Sister Raven. His smile was almost imperceptible, but it was there. Always there—just like his cousin. It was a strange relationship they fostered, her hand always on his shoulder, and his fingers absently tracing her fingertips. Some protested to him in private Sister Raven’s presence in this higher circle within the House of Usher, but Nahush insisted. He would not leave her out of anything, like she was his good luck charm—or something else…

  His own operations in India were still progressing, even as the unrest growing exponentially there; so Holmes allowed him the indulgence. Makeala would never speak, but she would whisper into his ear. Especially when Holmes addressed Nahush. Cobra was the sort of Board Member who knew more about what was truly happening between his fellow brothers and sisters, what people were planning, and who held the upper-hand. Together, he and Kari had pulled off a successful operation. Did that make him an ally? Holmes could not be sure. He could only be certain the relationship between him and his cousin was most off-centred and unsettling.

  Not that any of Holmes’ concerns mattered. The dissatisfied voices of the Board were not in the wrong. They should be upset, disappointed at the very least, that they had suffered this setback in Italy. What they didn’t realise, and he could not fault them for their ignorance, was that this setback did nothing to impede their progress.

  "I can see how you all regard our recent misadventures..." Holmes said again, locking eyes with Miss Bear. She was the only one who did not flinch or cower at his look. Most impressive. "... as a catastrophe of epic proportions: the loss of our breeding farm, coupled with the botched exchange at Eastwood Ridge. You must admit, though, that it shows the opposition’s desperation."

  "This all sounds quite wide-eyed and optimistic, and yet," Wolf grumbled, "here we are."

  "You have something to add?" Holmes asked.

  "You were utterly convinced by Fox here that Project Achilles would be a good fit for Ragnarök. Once again, we invested resources into finding and apprehending this archivist, Wellington Books. Once again, what do we have to show for the effort?" Wolf glanced at Scorpion and Cobra, both of whom sided with him. "Then we see the destruction of our Italian operations with Badger in the æther. With what he knows, he could turn evidence over to the M
inistry and nothing would stop them in bringing the House of Usher to ruin. If I recall, you were taking Usher into a new age, where Accountability would be at its foundation, yes?"

  Holmes smiled. Wolf didn’t falter. The control panel activating this room’s many security measures was not even an inch away from his fingertips, and Wolf openly challenged him? Incredible. "Now there’s that spine you had lost for some time. You are, however, missing the lessons we have learned from all this."

  Wolf chuckled, glancing to his two allies who offered wry smiles of their own. "Lessons? From this complete and utter failure?"

  "If you all would indulge me?" Holmes shook his head as he rose from his chair. "Project Achilles, as Mr Fox here informed me, appeared to be an excellent fit with Ragnarök, and had we successfully obtained Mr Books, we could have added it as a new component to the operation. Alas, we did not. Has Ragnarök shut down on account of this?" He then motioned to Miss Bear and Mr Tiger. "Hardly. We are still on schedule and still progressing forward.

  "And concerning the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences, specifically Books’ associate, Eliza Braun. Both agents have served as a thorn in our side. The death of Books has, apparently, dealt a blow to Braun. No one has seen the agent since the exchange over Eastwood Ridge. From where I sit, this is a matter that Usher has resolved nicely."

  "I would hardly call the loss of two agents enough to take the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences out of our concerns completely," Wolf said, clenching his hand into a fist on the table, "and considering Braun’s tenacity as our intelligence has shown, what makes you believe that she will not simply reappear to settle the score?"

  "Because that is not her way," a female voice spoke, her Italian accent lush, warm, and intoxicating to the ears.

  The sight of Sophia del Morte entering the room caused every member of the Board, even Miss Bear, to leap from their respective seats. Usher had sanctioned a hit upon her home, so the presence of anyone from the del Morte family—especially her—entering their sanctuary was unexpected, if not feared. Only Holmes remained where he stood, calm as if a trusted bodyguard had taken a place beside him.

  "She knows that Usher did not kill her beloved,” Sophia continued. “Considering the crimes committed against his countrymen, it would not surprise me at all if those responsible were, in fact, from the British government."

  Mr Scorpion, still gripping his chair, dared to lean closer. "Are you suggesting that the British government ordered the death of one of its own?"

  "I’m suggesting that, in light of events in India, they discovered the potential danger of Wellington Thornhill Books, received word of this exchange," Sophia stated, her eyes taking in each man and woman of the Board, "and took appropriate action."

  Holmes motioned to the empty chairs around the table. "Everyone, please, we're civilised creatures here, are we not?"

  A few of the Board Members resumed their seats, but Fox, Scorpion, and Tiger remained rooted where they stood.

  "Oh, now you’re just looking foolish, gentlemen," Holmes said, shaking his head.

  Fox motioned to Sophia with one hand. "Do you fail to remember, the outrages this woman has committed against the House?"

  "I have taken them into account, yes, and I also am aware of what we brought about in response to those transgressions. I extended an invitation to the delightful Miss del Morte years ago, and I am especially thankful that she realised it was a standing invitation. So you can imagine my surprise to discover I had in fact delivered it to a legacy."

  "I’m sorry," Mr Tiger said, inclining his head to one side. "Did you say a legacy?"

  Sophia lifted her right hand, and both Tiger and Scorpion gasped on seeing the signet ring of Usher. It was an older style, at least more than thirty years old; but it was unmistakable. Sophia del Morte was a blood heir to a seat on the Board.

  "Before you all, I pledge my loyalty and this promise: Filippo Rossi will not live long enough to undermine the sacred foundations of the House of Usher. I will use all resources available to have Rossi answer for his cowardice."

  Holmes took his seat and smiled at the new arrival. He knew the smile he gave her. It was the very one that had won him a few hearts in Chicago. "Miss del Morte, the chair is yours."

  The murmur bubbled up in the room as the assassin walked the length of the table, stopping at the empty chair reserved for Mr Badger. Putting his faith in Sophia del Morte was a high stakes gamble, without question; but on hearing of her own flight from Italy, her understanding and talents, and her birth right to a seat on the Board, how could he turn her away?

  Could he blame her for the rejection at London Bridge? Certainly not. It made perfect sense back then, but he admired the skills she possessed. Sophia was able to do what so many back in the America could not—she could recognise him for what he was.

  Now, assuming her place in this inner circle of Usher, Sophia was no longer afraid. She respected him. She was a very different Sophia del Morte than the one he had met initially.

  "My dear, why don’t you explain to the Board what we have discussed."

  "I did not wish to presume," she said.

  "Not at all. I believe in sharing the decisions that will guide us into the future."

  Sophia nodded, and she looked at the remaining board members still standing. Leaning forward, she adjusted the fine tailored suit she wore. The cut suited her. A possible distraction, Holmes mused.

  "Gentlemen, and madam, I understand your reluctance. You know me as an unreliable asset following my involvement with abducting Wellington Books. I cannot blame you for your hesitance in welcoming me into your ranks. You would be foolish to trust me blindly.

  "What I bring to you as a peace offering is inside knowledge of the Ministry’s operations. They brought me into their fold. I know how they execute strategy, where they deploy their agents, and potential rendezvous points. I also offer the same concerning the del Morte family. With me taking a place on your board—"

  "Why?" Wolf rapped his fingertips against the polished wood of their table. "Explain why are you here? Now? Returning to our ranks like some wounded dog searching for shelter?"

  Sophia cast her gaze downward, her nod slight. "Because of the order given, Usher attacked my village, and eliminated over half of my house. You would think such an action would galvanise a family like the del Mortes, but we live—" She cleared her throat, swallowed, and after a moment found her voice once more. "My apologies—the del Morte family lives under a very different code. They will hold the daughter bringing such despair on the house responsible for her actions. I am cast out from my family and marked for death."

  Holmes could hear Jeremy and Mr Scorpion gasp at this revelation. She might be a terrifying adversary, but the idea of an entire family of assassins all committed to her death was astonishing. Quite humbling for her, Holmes considered, finding the notion delicious.

  “Before you wonder if having me as part of your organisation is an open invitation for the del Mortes to come after you, they will do so regardless. Without me in your ranks, their revenge will be swift and will be upon you before you realise.”

  Wolf leaned back in his chair. "So what is our proof that you were not the one responsible for Badger's disappearance?"

  "You read the report. The simple truth is that if she wanted the man responsible for her predicament dead, he would be and in a most public fashion. Badger is on the run, and he's been seen."

  "Wait—Rossi has been seen?" Wolf asked.

  "There were several transactions reported in Hamburg. I have operatives investigating. In the meantime…" Holmes motioned to Sophia, giving her a pleasant nod. "We have a unique opportunity with Miss del Morte. She offers us not only her incredible skill set, but a unique insight into how the Ministry operates. We will need that insight as we move forward with the next phase of Ragnarök."

  Wolf’s head snapped in Holmes’ direction. "The next phase? You really are mad, aren’t you? Have you not forgotten that we have lost
—"

  Holmes held up a single finger and swivelled to Wolf. His posturing now grew tiresome. It was time to put the man back in his place. "Wolf, I am more than aware of what we have lost, but I refuse to dwell on what could have been if we had been able to continue the work of Dr Jekyll or tap into the superhuman abilities of Wellington Books. What we lost was a convenient addition to Ragnarök, not the endgame of what we have been planning since my assuming leadership of Usher."

  “So, let us discuss endgame since you bring it up,” Miss Bear began. “I am in need of more funds allocated to Russian operations.”

  “Why?” Mr Tiger asked. “You are but a secondary operation to the Asian theatre, the central operation to Ragnarök?”

  “Since when?” scoffed Wolf. “Our operations, save for this Books distraction, has been on schedule as it is central to the success of—”

  “Excuse me,” Holmes interrupted. He kept his eyes on Wolf as he asked, "Miss Bear, how are your factories?"

  "We remain on schedule, following the incidents of last year," the diminutive Russian woman said.

  "Excellent. Mr Tiger, what of your shipyards?"

  "Our prototype submersibles are performing above and beyond expectations," Mr Tiger, representing Pan-Pacific territories, reported, "We have tests scheduled this week for the weapons systems."

  With his gaze still trained on Wolf, Holmes continued. "Mr Cobra, what of your talented engineers in India?"