by Mario Routi
The speeches went on with General Hunter and General Nemesis, as well as the Wise Tree.
“Let’s go pick up the others,” Alexander said once the speeches finished and everyone prepared to leave the amphitheatre. They clambered down over the rows of seats to get to the stage but the closer they got, the denser the crowd became and Leylah found herself being crushed. Seeing her predicament, Alexander reached over and put his arm around her again, holding back the crowd and creating a small circle of breathing space. She felt like he was setting her free. Her heart was pounding with adrenaline and her head became so dizzy that her feet betrayed her, sending her sprawling onto the ground, banging her nose in the fall.
Alexander immediately knelt beside her, ripping a strip from his tunic and gently dabbing the blood from her nose. “Keep your head up,” he counseled her. “It will only bleed worse if you don’t.”
“I’m so sorry,” Leylah muttered through a clogged nose, feeling extremely foolish.
“What are you sorry for? Come on! Let’s go get Anna and Gregory, shall we?”
“Of course...” She allowed him to help her to her feet, savoring the moment.
15
London
That night, as Ricky watched the burning boat on the evening news with a heavy cut glass tumbler of scotch in his hand, there was a knock at the door to his apartment. It was unusual since no one was supposed to be able to get that far without going past the porter and being announced on the intercom. When he opened the door with his drink still in his hand, he was shocked to find the glamorous spokeswoman he had admired on the boat standing in the corridor. She looked as composed and immaculate as she had at the beginning of the day. No one looking at her would ever guess that she had just been through a traumatic event. Ricky’s first thought was that she must have spotted him on the boat, thought he was attractive and made it her business to find out where he lived. In his arrogance and vanity he didn’t stop to wonder how she could have been able to get his address.
“Hi,” he said, shooting her a smile that he believed to be his most winning.
“Hello. I’m Julia Feredini,” she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world that she should be there. “May I come in?”
“Of course.”
“I believe we shared an unusual experience today,” she said as he closed the door behind her.
“Oh my God,” Ricky pretended to be appalled. “It’s unbelievable what people will do these days. Attacking an event like that when all everyone wanted to do was help those poor children. Did any of the kids get hurt?”
“Miraculously, no,” she said, “but obviously they were very shaken up.”
“I think we all were. The perpetrators of such a barbaric act should be hunted down and shown no mercy.”
“Absolutely! That’s why I’m going to turn over to the authorities the black box tape footage from the boat, now that I’ve reviewed it myself.”
Ricky stood rooted to the spot for what seemed like ages as he tried to assimilate this new piece of information. If she had footage from cameras on the boat, then that would mean she had seen every move he had made, every bomb he had planted.
“You definitely should,” he said eventually, moving behind her as if to check the lock on the door. In one swift movement he brought his glass of scotch down towards her skull but she simply leaned to the side and the whisky flew down her dress, the ice cubes skidding across the parquet floor.
“Of course, the Sartani might be a bit mad at you for getting caught so easily,” she said, grabbing his arm and yanking it over her shoulder. She knocked the empty glass out of his hand. As the glass was falling, Julia whipped around to bring another punch to his face but Ricky was ready for her. All the years he had spent avoiding his father’s flying fists meant he was used to this type of close-quarters fighting. He drove his fist deep into her gut before her punch had reached him.
She groaned as his blow landed but managed to push him back so that she had a few seconds to recover. In those few seconds Ricky lifted an armchair and threw it at her with all the strength he had built up over decades of lugging lumber around the boatyard.
Julia tried to duck out of the way but Ricky’s fist was waiting for her. He couldn’t work out why she wasn’t fighting back anymore. With her head caught on the armchair, she was carried back into the wall, falling with a sickening crunch and slumping to the floor.
He paused for a moment in case it was a trick but she didn’t move. He pressed a cautious finger to her neck and couldn’t find a pulse. She was dead and now he had to work out what to do with the body.
He searched her purse for a car key. Chances are she would have parked in the underground car park. Lifting her limp body over his shoulder like a fireman, he moved quickly along the thickly carpeted corridor to the fire escape, which he knew ran directly down to the basement level, maneuvering stealthily to avoid the surveillance cameras along the way. Once he was in the garage he kept pressing the unlock button on the key until a car responded with a flash of lights. Opening the trunk he dropped the body in and slammed it shut. He then made his way back upstairs. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to sleep.
***
Ricky was eating a salad in the office the following day when the police arrived.
“Mr Soblett?” one of them asked as his secretary brought them through.
“Yes, call me Ricky.”
“Would you mind accompanying us to the police station, sir? We have some questions that we would like your help with.”
“Are you arresting me, Officer? Should I phone my lawyer?”
“Under the Home Security Act, we have the right to detain anyone for questioning and you, sir, are a suspected terrorist.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he blustered, although he knew he had no choice but to follow the two officers to the unmarked police car waiting outside. He tried to act as normally as possible as he had no idea whether they had any evidence against him or not. Maybe it was a bluff and they were hoping he would crack and tell them things they didn’t actually already know. Had they found Julia’s body? Had they got the black box and seen the footage of him on the boat? Were they talking to everyone who had been at the scene, or just him? The best plan was to stay quiet and see what transpired.
As they pulled up to the station, Ricky climbed out and followed the two officers as calmly as he could manage; part of him was even enjoying the idea of being the centre of attention. This was the most excitement he had had in his life in years.
As the police officers led him into the interrogation room, the lights went out.
“Another bloody blackout?” one of them asked.
“There’s got to be something wrong with the electric system in this building,” the other said. “This happens all the time.”
There was a distant hum as the generators cut in and the lights flickered back on. The two officers sat him down in a chair and walked out of the room, locking it behind them. Ricky deliberately kept a smile on his face, certain that they would be watching him from the camera he could see in the corner of the ceiling. The door opened and another policeman walked in.
“So... Ricky...” the man said, sitting down opposite him. “Did you enjoy your assignment?”
“Marcus?” For a moment Ricky forgot the act he was trying to put on for the camera and stared in amazement. “Is that you?”
“Did you have fun?” Marcus asked again, his face contorting into a twisted grin.
“Yes,” Ricky laughed. “Actually I did enjoy it. Do the police know it was me?”
“The police have found absolutely nothing, as usual,” Marcus said, leaning back in the chair with his hands in his trouser pockets. “But unfortunately the Orizons managed to thwart us yet again.”
“The Orizons? Who are the Orizons?”
> “One came to your flat last night,” Marcus said, “which is very rare. I’m guessing that you came as a surprise to them and they wanted to find out if you were a Sartani or an independent operator. They like to know exactly who they’re dealing with.”
“You mean the woman from the boat? Julia something-or-other? She threatened to release footage that she had of me on the boat, so I had to kill her.”
“Oh, so you had to kill her, did you? First of all, just so you know, there was no footage of you; she was bluffing.”
“She said there was a black box. I know that they carry those inside planes so I assumed the boat was fitted out in the same way. I could have sworn she was telling the truth. She was very convincing and I couldn’t take any risks.”
“It’s worrying to know that you would fall for such an obvious ploy,” Marcus said coldly. “Only planes and military boats carry black boxes and it was obvious that the security on that boat was pitiful. We picked it because it was such an easy target for you to prove yourself on. If we had wanted you dead, then we would have sent you to attack an embassy or a barracks. So, back to the Orizon woman. What did you do with her body?”
“It’s in the boot of her car.”
“Where’s the car?”
“In the underground car park of my building.”
“How did you kill her?”
“I threw an armchair at her.”
“Seriously? How crappy was the armchair?”
“It was actually a very expensive designer chair made from extra light material - something NASA uses on rockets - which means it’s about half the weight of a normal armchair. I am also used to manual lifting from my boat building days.”
Marcus was obviously ignoring him. “Did she make any other threats?”
“No, she just implied that she had the footage and that she knew I was Sartani. She seemed completely harmless until I attacked her and then she fought back like a wildcat.”
“You bloody idiot!” Marcus suddenly exploded and slapped Ricky’s face so hard he was knocked off his chair.
“What?” Ricky whined, climbing back up off the floor, clutching his cheek. “What did I do?”
“She came for you and you took the bait! She’s not dead - I can guarantee you that - and she is now probably already informing the Orizons about you. All she wanted was to make sure that you were who they suspected and by trying to kill her you confirmed all their suspicions.”
“But... but...”
“No buts, you fool! She could have killed you as easily as if you were a fly had she wanted to but, lucky for you, Orizons are reluctant to kill humans - even if they are their enemies - unless they have no other choice or in order to protect others. But understand this: now that they’ve confirmed who you are and know that you are willing to kill, the next time you meet an Orizon will probably be your last. So, beware!”
“Maybe that’s why she stopped fighting back,” Ricky said as he began to grasp what Marcus was telling him. “Okay, I get it. I screwed up, sorry. What should I do then if I meet her or another Orizon?”
“First of all, do not point any weapons at them. Let them know that you are, in fact, a Sartani, but do not challenge them. If you’re not harming someone at that point, they won’t hurt you - they will just let you go. I can’t believe you made such a mess of the whole operation. Your father would be ashamed of you.”
“You make my father sound like he was some sort of infamous murderous mastermind,” Ricky protested.
“He was all of those things, which is why he was so revered and feared. If it wasn’t for an Orizon named Julius Newton who used to work for MI6, your father would still be running things today.”
“Makes me almost proud of him,” Ricky said.
“You really didn’t know anything about your old man, did you? Did you even read the file when you had it in front of you?”
“No, not really. I assumed you weren’t lying.”
“Then let me tell you what has really been happening during the lifetime of humanity. I’ll start with the Devil! I assume you know who he is?”
“The Devil? You mean dear old Satan?” Ricky sneered but then he saw how seriously Marcus was looking at him and swallowed his words. “Yes, I know who the Devil is. Ruler of Hell. He sits on a throne while everyone around him burns in eternal torment.”
“In a sense, yes, but in another, no,” said Marcus. “The Devil is the entity that gave birth to the Sartani families, but we are all children of the Titans. The Orizons are creations of the Gods, who use the Sacred Flame to stay immortal and stop us from ever freeing our own creators. Long ago, the Ultimate Creator, the father of both the Titans and the Gods, gave to them the powers they currently have. The only difference was that the Gods had favor with him so the Titans were treated as servants. The Gods, easily bored with their creations, threw them in a jumbled mess down on Earth but it was the Titans who cared for us and created the necessary things we needed to survive. The Titans felt that they were being treated unfairly and when they went to ask for something to be done, not only did the Great Creator reject their requests, but the Gods took it upon themselves to imprison our forefathers.”
“That’s the story of the Gods and Titans?” Ricky said when Marcus finally fell silent. “They sound exactly like just about every messed up family I have ever met.”
“Shut up Ricky,” Marcus said, raising his hand threateningly and making the other man wince in anticipation of another slap. “So, our fathers were imprisoned by the Gods. However, much to the fury of the Gods, the Titans created the Devil to begin exacting their revenge on them. The Devil thought of the perfect revenge and invented money. Since the Gods have the attention span of small children, the invention of money was able to permeate the entire world, growing into too pervasive a system to ever be dismantled. In a world where no one had ever before needed to go to war, murder another person or do anything bad at all, the influence of money grew and spread like a deadly epidemic. The Gods created the Orizons to put a stop to this but the Devil had other plans. While the Gods gave life to the Orizons, the Titans and the Devil spawned the Sartani. The sole purpose of the Sartani has always been to wreak as much havoc as possible in order to weaken the Orizons so that the Titans have a chance to strike back and possibly escape.”
“So... the Sartani just smash the creations of the Gods in order to give the Titans a chance to escape?”
“Yes. Also the Titans want revenge on the Gods for creating this whole mess in the first place.”
“Okay, so what I did on the boat was a crucial part of this great revenge plot?”
Marcus gave a sarcastic snort of laughter. “A crucial part? Hardly. It was an infinitesimal little act, but it did achieve its purpose, which was to prove that you have the ruthlessness required to be one of the Sartani leaders. It was just a test, Ricky.”
“And how many people did I actually manage to kill?” Ricky asked, liking the idea that he was taking his place in history.
“Are you even listening? The Orizons stopped it from happening.”
“What? How?”
“The entire event was a fake, a put up job by the Orizons to make us target them - to draw us out. They knew that it would be irresistible to us because of the symbolism of the children and we fell for it.”
“Okay,” Ricky felt like his bubble of self-importance had been punctured yet again. “But the boat still exploded; I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Yes, but because of the Orizons, no one was hurt in the process, aside from the boat itself. They removed all the bombs within minutes of you planting them except for the one in the fuel tank. Not that they were that worried. You were the only one in any danger, really. Remember, Ricky, Orizons can’t die unless they get mortally wounded and even then it’s very likely that they will survive, especially if they get
near their Flame. It will always cure them promptly and completely.”
“Their Flame?” Ricky asked.
“Yes. They call it the Sacred Flame. It’s the source of their power and what makes them immortal.”
“I see.” Ricky thought for a moment. “So, what am I supposed to do now? I mean, we are still in a police station and I appear to be a suspected terrorist.”
“That is being taken care of right now. Your name is being cleared as we speak. There is something else we need to talk about while we wait, though. Now that you are a Sartani leader, the Devil has something in mind for you. He wants to speak to you in person and that is a rare privilege, believe me. But first, you are to strike another - far larger - target. You must make a significant sacrifice to the Devil.”
“Just name it,” Ricky said, his certainty of his own invincibility returning.
“Your next target is an oil company in Shanghai - rather more of a challenge than a tourist boat on the Thames, I think you’ll find. This company produces a large percentage of the oil that powers Asia right now. Their main building is in the business district of Shanghai. Your mission is to eliminate all personnel inside that building without any support from the Sartani and without ever being exposed. There will be no room for the sort of carelessness you exhibited on the boat and if you mess up, you will be on your own. Thus your objectives are simply to infiltrate the building unnoticed and take everyone out without being detected.”
“Why not just send a missile against the building?”
“If it were that easy, we would have done it by now. The people who control things such as missiles have Sartani and Orizons working with and against each other within the groups. The Sartani control terrorist groups while the Orizons run counter terrorist operations. It is a constant struggle - like a deadly chess match - and at the moment the Orizons seem to be outsmarting us at every turn. We have to reverse that trend.”