by M. L. Janes
"Mason wants a word with you. He's in Leeds. We'll get Dr Turner here to Professor Wilkie."
"Séamus, what's going to happen to the girls?" Alice was insistent and starting to sound alarmed.
"It's OK, these guys will be careful with them. We just have to do what they say."
"I knew I could rely upon you, Séimi Boy." Thomas grinned widely. "Check and cuff him, Billy."
One of the young men whom Séamus did not know patted him down, taking a penknife, cellphone, and the device used to monitor the girls. Séamus put his hands behind his back and was handcuffed.
"Why do they need to do that?" Alice remained alarmed.
"Just a routine procedure, it doesn't mean anything," he told her.
"But this is ridiculous! I demand an explanation!"
Séamus turned to her and looked her in the eye, his face a little closer than would naturally be the case. "Alice," he said a little sharply, "Please cooperate with these men. Otherwise they will handcuff you too. It's very uncomfortable on a long journey."
She stared back at him, at first with a look of near-panic, then uncertainty, then a measure of understanding and trust. "Okay, okay," she repeated. "I guess these are your people. Basically you're all on the same side, aren't you?"
"You're getting smart," Thomas said. "Séamus's an agent just like we're agents. What's happening now may be a disappointment to him, of course, but he knows better than to make a fuss. It won't change anything. You can't fight against thirteen countries which represent half the world's people and 90% of its GDP. But you get good marks for cooperation. It can save a whole career, don't you agree, Séamus?"
"Don't rub it in, Thomas," Séamus told him. "I've done my best here. Principal told me that."
Thomas stepped up to him and gave a forced grin. "I know Principal likes you, Séamus. But I have my suspicions it's not because you're a good agent. Not so hot with the mosque, were we?"
There was a small murmur of agreement, even an element of chuckling, from the men around them.
"Cuff her too, Cap?" Billy asked.
Thomas shook his head. "No, she's cool. Burn marks on her wrists would look awkward." He turned to her. "Don't worry, Baby. Be like Séimi here and you will come to no harm. Tonight you two are going to get a suite at the best hotel in Leeds. It's the romantic evening you two were planning for quite some time."
"Make sure you give 'em some johnnies," remarked the other man that Séamus knew. There was snickering.
"Oh shut up, Graham. You lower the tone of the mission with your smut." He checked Séamus's monitoring device. "OK, you come with me to the girls' rooms and let these others head off to Leeds."
Billy and the other one walked Alice and Séamus outside to one of two cars. The men opened the rear doors and told them to get in, assisting Séamus to do so and then fastening his seat-belt. They spent a moment conferring outside the car before entering themselves, during which Séamus spoke quietly but quickly to Alice.
"When I tap your foot with mine, I need you to immediately unfasten my seat-belt, OK?"
Alice stared at him as if confused, but then nodded. Séamus settled back, the men entered the front seats and they drove off. The driver was clearly not used to winding country lanes at night and immediately began complaining about the road. He drove much slower than either Alice or Barbara.
"You'll never catch me living in this wilderness," he commented. "Now I know why I'm a city kid."
It took them almost a minute to pass over the first two small hills leading away from the facility. Séamus tried to judge in his mind the timing of events back there. The moment he had seen his fellow agents in the lobby, he had pressed a button on his security device which had opened all the girls' door and started buzzing their bracelets. None of them had any doubt about this emergency signal. They would have all gone to his room, which also opened at the same time. There they would have found a control for all the lights on the upper floor, and four sets of night goggles. They would have listened for the two agents coming up the stairs, walking down the corridor and trying to open the girls' doors, which were now locked again and would not respond to Séamus's device. The corridor light would be extinguished, leaving the men quite blinded, and Phyllis and Chrissy would step quietly out of his room, armed with kitchen knives. If it wasn't all over by now, it would surely be within seconds unless something had gone badly wrong. He couldn't be sure if Chrissy had hesitated, but he was certain that Phyllis would not. He had instructed her to put mercy out of her mind, because the agents were trained to do the same.
As they approached a downhill bend, Séamus pressed his foot in Alice's. Her hand was already on his belt buckle and released it instantly, giving him ample time for what he needed to do. Launching himself forward he aimed the crown of his head at the driver's temple. The car swung violently to the left, allowing Séamus just enough time to jerk himself back into the rear seat as the car tipped into a ditch. The unsuspecting agents were thrown forward against their belts and one of the airbags inflated. That proved to be lucky as it completely disabled their ability to react to him. Séamus worked his legs up the back of the driver's seat and then began kicking wildly. At first he seemed not to strike anything consequential, then he felt the toe of his boot hit the passenger's face. Movement on that side stopped abruptly and he aimed both his feet at the driver. Finally he struck the head with successive heels, and the body stopped moving. Now came the unpleasant part. With both figures motionless, he was able to aim his boots with greater precision. Alice screamed as he seemed to squash in one of the faces.
"I'm sorry but there's no choice," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Quick, take off my trouser belt." She did so with fumbling hands. "Now switch on this light above us here because I need you to find a key and open these handcuffs. OK. The back of that belt-buckle snaps off – find the bevel at the side and pull with your nail. That's it – careful. There's a key in there which will fit these cuffs – careful not to drop it or we're in a big mess."
Despite shaking badly, Alice did a swift job with the handcuffs. Séamus then quickly turned off the car lights. "Let's get out of here before someone spots the car." He opened the car door and climbed out, realizing how much the crash had bruised him, making every movement painful. He pulled Alice out and they walked down the road to a gate where they entered a field. Séamus tried to jog a little but found he had to walk because of shooting pains down his right side.
As they headed towards the facility, he said to her, "Listen to me carefully, Alice. I believe the girls are safe. I signaled them as soon as I saw the agents and they would have executed my emergency procedure. In short, those other guys are very likely dead. They would have been caught completely unawares. No one in the Agency would have imagined I would have fought it and made myself the most wanted man in England. But you're in the clear right now. You'd be safest going back to the car and calling help. If you come with me now, we'll try hard to keep you in the clear, but I can't guarantee it. And I want you in the clear – you're the one who's going to have to find what went so terribly wrong."
"I'm keeping with you," Alice said immediately.
Séamus did not argue. Instead he took her phone and dialed a number. "Mr Grant? It's Séamus FitzGerald. I need a big favor from you. There's a car crashed just under half a mile south of the facility. Can you clean it up for me? And I need the four girls, myself and Alice taken somewhere safe. Don't worry, I know the price. Have a car at the facility in about fifteen, OK?"
"When did you start working with Grant?" Alice asked.
"This very minute," he told her, "But it's all part of the contingency planning. When the government wants you dead, your best friends are criminals."
"These agents were going to kill us?"
"No, but they were going to kill the girls. Tase them, drug them and then start a fire. Our lives were in danger only if we got in the way."
"Won't other people be coming soon?"
"We have abou
t one hour, total. This would have been seen as a low-risk mission and they won't send back-up until about thirty minutes of no-contact. With the secrecy needed here, air time is kept to a minimum." His right side was beginning to loosen up. "Ready to jog?"
Alice said she would do her best and they finished the distance to the facility at a canter. He first checked the agents' other car, in which he found the two facility guards bound, gagged and blindfolded, but fully conscious. He pulled off their gags.
"You're safe, Fellahs," Séamus told them. Someone's going to be here in about thirty minutes to release you. I'm sorry I can't do that myself, but my future doesn't look anything like as good as yours."
One of the guards said simply, "Good luck, Mr FitzGerald."
"I'll need it, Sam. Thanks."
Séamus told Alice to wait with the guards until he came back out of the building with the girls. If he didn't return within twenty minutes then she should have Grant's men come in. He went to a corner of the lawn and dug up three knives he had buried, each with plastic sheathes. A long one he put inside his coat, a short one in a side pocket and another short one he kept in hand. As they told everyone at the Agency, guns are a liability but you can't have too many knives. He was sure the agents had not been issued with firearms for the mission – too much noise, mess and evidence. The agents themselves had a saying: guns are for pussies who are afraid to get in close.
As he entered the lobby, he was curious why he did not feel any fear. It was a disadvantage, because a certain amount of fear was needed for sharpened wits. Maybe he just had too much faith in Phyllis. Maybe he already assumed he was a dead man. Maybe the silence made him sure what must have happened. He took off his shoes so he could pass noiselessly down the corridors. He came to the staircase leading to their living rooms. Waiting and listening, he could hear a faint sound of a woman crying. He thought it must be Jenny. Then he heard Chrissy's voice saying, "Hey, Dear, it's OK. Those were really bad men. They deserved to die. Séamus will be here soon like he promised and he'll keep us safe."
He bounded up the stairs and looked down the corridor. Unlike downstairs it was lined with carpet, which he realized was a very good thing, as it soaked up what appeared to be most of the eight quarts of blood that the two bodies lying on it had once contained. He went to his own door and called out their four names. Chrissy opened the door. Jenny was sitting on the edge of his bed, still sobbing. He turned to see Tina sitting in his kitchen, apparently in shock. Phyllis was sitting at his desktop, staring at the screen while eating a bowl of breakfast cereal. Since she doesn't know when she's next going to get a meal, he thought, she's filling herself up now.
All were dressed in the dark gray tracksuits he had stored for them in his room, and the backpacks he had made them prepare had also been retrieved from his closet and placed near the door. When Phyllis saw Séamus she stood up and brought him the two shoulder bags the men had been carrying. Inside they contained tasers, syringe packs and equipment for starting a large fire.
"They took these gun things out of the bags and held them in their hands when they tried the doors," she explained, then added, "I'm sorry about all the blood, Séamus. I know you told me how to prevent it but I guess I just wanted to get it finished with quickly."
"It's fine," he told her.
He took from the closet his own prepared backpack and told them to follow him downstairs. A van with three of Grant's men was already waiting for them, and the six of them climbed in the back seats. The van took them on a journey of about thirty minutes, then they stopped in a wooded area and were transferred to another van. They were taken on another journey of about an hour, supplied with sandwiches and drinks. When the doors opened again, they were at a large house in private grounds. The women were shown upstairs to bedrooms, where more food was made available. Séamus was led into a large living room with an open fireplace. Grant and McMahon were sitting there. Grant was reading and McMahon was watching sport on a TV with the sound turned down. On seeing Séamus, Grant indicated the sofa opposite him where a whiskey bottle, glass and water carafe was waiting for him.
"How are the men in the car?" Séamus asked.
"One's still unconscious," McMahon told him. "The other's going to need considerable facial surgery."
Séamus nodded. "There are two more dead at the facility. One of the girls cut them but on my orders, turning off the lights and using night goggles. I can't be certain, but I'm pretty sure they were there to eliminate the girls. I don't know why, and can only make some vague guesses."
"And they say chivalry is dead," McMahon commented. "These must be awfully important girls. Which, of course, is why you thought we'd be interested in helping you."
"Yes, though you are not going to believe why they are important. What's your official position on leprechauns?"
McMahon first frowned, then shrugged to play along. "Oh, but you'll not have me admit to believing in the little fellahs. Even though, to be honest, we sort of know they're there."
"Well, some consortium of billionaire dot-commers invested a packet in scanning the universe for intelligent life, given that they cannot find enough to employ here. Some signal came down from Heaven and they figure it includes the date of the Apocalypse. No doubt it makes a huge difference whether or not it's before or after the next presidential election. My four girls have language capabilities you just cannot imagine, which make them uniquely qualified to decode this signal. It seems they did crack it, but it wasn't good news. So, I figure they want to bury the train-wreck with the passengers still in it. By "they," I will blow your mind still further by telling you its thirteen governments which represent 90% of the world's economy."
"Did you check the proof of that whiskey?" Grant asked of McMahon.
"Gentlemen, I am just telling you what the mad scientists at the Lab told me a few weeks ago. I don't care if we're translating the Devil's Bible or ancient Celtic pornography. If the British Security Service doesn't want these girls dead, it anyway deliberately sent four agents to forcibly remove them from my custody without countermanding my orders to protect them at all costs. Therefore under the rules of the Agency I was justified in using all means at my disposal to prevent their removal. There is only one reason why such a step would have been taken. Someone decided that, as soon as my order was countermanded, I would have very likely tried to hide the girls. Actually, they were right – that's what I would have done. A countermand of a protective custody, without sufficient justification, can mean only one thing. They miscalculated by thinking I wouldn't have two agents killed and two seriously injured in order to prevent removal."
"Because they don't know what a FitzGerald is like," McMahon said. "Jesus, you'd have thought they'd have read up about your Pappy."
Séamus continued, "For some reason, it was decided that these girls know too much for the good order of the world. And someone at my Agency decided that, even if it were explained to me, there was a real danger I wouldn't agree. They thought four young toughs, acting on new orders, would be a safer bet. Then I might think harder about my career and my life."
"Would you like to hazard a guess at what the girls know that's so toxic?" asked Grant.
"Not exactly my area of expertise. But I'm told these thirteen countries are 90% of the world economy while only 50% if its population. Maybe that other 50% will be able to grab their fair share of the 90%. After all, we're not exactly in a balanced world, are we? Maybe it doesn't take much to tip up an overloaded apple cart."
"I'm all for a little social chaos," Grant mused. "Since I provide my own security. And it would open up a lot more business opportunities for the likes of me. But what exactly can we do now against the combined firepower of NATO, Russia and China?"
Séamus poured himself another whiskey and water and walked to the fireplace. "These dot-com billionaires. Call them the Consortium. Seems like they already operate outside of any government control. I suspect our Thirteen Nations learned something they don't want to sh
are because they don't trust the Consortium not to take advantage of it. Maybe it's some chemical that boosts brainpower enormously and our leaders prefer to keep us stupid. But it will make gazillions for the Consortium. We offer the girls to them."
"What if they prove to be as good a host as the Thirteen Nations?" McMahon asked.
"I honestly believe that's the safest place for the girls. These techies may like money and power but they are driven by their own better-world, ethical principles. They're the ones who've funded this search for Miss Universe. You know what they say, 'Don't be evil'? These guys were hardly killers in high school and I can't see them picking it up since."
"It's true you don't hear of people getting whacked in Silicon Valley," Grant added. "I'll buy that argument. But I still can't be confident they want to risk taking the girls. Suppose you can't even reach these people. What's your fallback plan?"
Séamus leaned against the fireplace mantel and looked round the room. It was tastefully furnished in a warm, Edwardian style. It was strange to think such elegance came from crime.
"I think you know it," he told Grant, "Provided I can have your word on two things. Then of course I am going to leave it up to the girls to decide. First thing, they'll always have the right to refuse, and stop work at any time. Second, as far as you can ensure, they will never be physically or mentally abused."
Grant nodded. "No problem giving you my word on both of those as that's the way our operation is run always. If they're going to be out of this country, of course not everyone is answerable to me. But I work only with organizations that share our philosophy. Nothing is ever involuntary. There's no punishment unless someone goes to the police, steals or becomes violent. If something bad happens outside our control, we compensate it generously."
"We're like an unlawful army, with all the discipline that entails," McMahon explained. "You can understand that analogy, can't you, Séamus?"
"Where do you suggest?" Séamus asked.
"Let us make inquiries. First let's get you safely to Holland. After that, I suspect somewhere warm with beaches and a decent night life. What do you think?"