Not wasting a second, he climbed out through the kitchen window and repeated, in reverse order and with triple speed, every move he had made to get to this point.
By the time the security guards reached the apartment where the grey-haired man lay on the floor, North was already in the lift in the opposite building descending to the ground floor. A minute later, he unlocked the door of a getaway car that had been parked in front of the building and drove calmly away.
CHAPTER TWO
Heathrow Airport, London, UK
The present day
James Whiteway waited for his fiancée with growing impatience in the arrivals lounge of Terminal 5. Elizabeth’s flight from New York had been delayed, and although it had now landed, she had still not appeared after almost forty-five minutes.
James’ mood brightened in a flash when he at last saw her slender figure amongst the stream of passengers that eventually poured out of the gates. Her natural blonde hair, which fell casually in large curls around her shoulders, contrasted with her dark and elegantly tailored business coat and knee-length skirt. He felt the same rush of familiar passion he had felt on the day they had first met. The two weeks separation had been too long for James, given that in the two years of living together they had not been apart for more than a day. He unwillingly reminded himself that he had better get used to more frequent separations because Elizabeth’s firm had recently won a lucrative subcontractor’s deal with one of the largest fashion houses in New York, and this trip abroad would be the first of many for her.
James could not wait until she had walked all the way to where he stood. He set off through the crowd to meet her. “Hi, El,” he called, taking large bounding steps to cover the last few metres that separated them.
“Hi, darling. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, sweetheart.”
They stood embracing and kissing for some moments.
“How was the flight?”
“Long, but comfortable. How are you?”
“Now I’m completely happy,” he said, grabbing the handle of her suitcase. “Shall I treat you to one of your favourite black coffees, or do you want to head home straightaway?”
“Let’s hang about a little. I need to adjust to being back on terra firma.”
Most of the tables in the airport café had already been taken, but they managed to find a free one at the edge of the sitting area. James bought a coffee for Elizabeth, a tea with milk for himself and a piece of the chocolate cake, which they normally shared.
“You look very … fresh … after travelling for so many hours. Some day you should tell me how you do that,” he said.
Elizabeth arched her eyebrows in a theatrical gesture of discontentment. “Only fresh?”
“Well … beautiful and appetising too,” James quickly corrected himself.
“That’s better. The secret is sleep. I spent most of my time on the plane sleeping.”
“The simple approaches are normally the best ones.”
“I used my time well when I was awake. I drew a few ideas. I’ll show you my new designs at home.”
James noticed how her face lit up with enthusiasm. “Why don’t you show them to me now,” he suggested.
She reached into her handbag, took out her sketchbook and handed it to him. James leafed through it slowly. These drawings seemed to differ from her previous designs. In this set, he saw sketches of tiny garments with rounded collars and coat tails that were decorated with huge buttons. In addition, there were drawings of trousers with ribbons attached to them.
He gave her a loving look and, stretching out his arm, caressed her belly with his palm.
“The drawings are wonderful,” he said. “When our little princess comes into this world, she will have her own little fashion collection. She will be beautiful and stylish.”
“Of course she will,” Elizabeth replied. “The only thing that worries me is that she might inherit your taste in clothes.”
“Here we go again,” James murmured, feigning annoyance. They shared an old joke about what she called his ‘chaotic’ taste in clothes.
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said contritely. “Peace?”
“Always. We will love her just as she is, even if she dresses in sacks.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I love you, too, just the way you are. I don’t want to change you ... maybe improve you a little,” she said impishly. Then she asked, “Have you finished editing Star Gods yet?”
She was referring to the book James had been working on. Since obtaining his degree in theology and oriental studies from Oxford University, he had published two popular science books, and Star Gods would be his third. He had already signed a contract with his publisher, and the deadline to hand over the manuscript was drawing near.
“Almost. I need several more days, maybe a week to finish it.”
For a short while, there was silence between them and James began to notice how Elizabeth’s gaze had become distracted. He knew her well enough to know that this meant some troublesome thoughts had emerged in her mind. “What is it, El?” he asked.
Elizabeth peered at him and then asked in a low, serious tone, “You may find this strange or stupid—”
“You can say anything to me.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot recently about Noel. Your... how many times ‘great’ grandfather?”
“Five times. What could you possibly have to think about him?”
“How his life began. Abandoned as a baby in front of some church.”
“This is weird. You haven’t shown any interest in my family history until now. I remember I told you this story about Noel soon after we met.”
“It was on our first real date. We talked for many hours then.”
“Yes. I had a tremendous crush on you and wanted to tell you everything. I couldn’t miss out the curious beginning of the Whiteways.”
“It was nice,” Elizabeth was silent again for a short time before she continued. “I started thinking about Noel after I found out I was pregnant.”
“Now I begin to understand... I think.”
“These thoughts just kept popping up in my head. I couldn’t understand why on earth I had this obsessive thinking,” the emotion she was trying to contain made her cheeks flush.
“You should’ve talked to me about this earlier,” said James.
“I know. I didn’t think it had any significance... until yesterday. During my last night in the hotel in New York, I suddenly figured out what linked these seemingly chaotic thoughts. It’s that strange family tradition of yours.”
At first, James did not understand what she meant.
“I mean that in each generation of your family only one boy has been born,” she clarified. “It’s the reason behind Noel’s abandonment.”
“I see... You really think that this ‘tradition’ had something to do with his fate?”
She nodded in agreement. “Very much so. If I am right, this could have something to do with us as well. I don’t know how exactly this could affect us, but—”
He interrupted her. “Hold on, El. Look, it’s pretty straightforward. We are going to have our girl. That means the ‘one boy only’ tradition does not apply. Consequently, whatever castles in the air you’ve built up on that premise tumble down.”
Elizabeth’s eyes became wet. “I feel this irrational tension. It’s like a warning—” She cut off her speech suddenly realising that what else was on her mind was inexpressible in words.
“It’s clear that all this is related to our baby. You shouldn’t worry. We’ll pass our girl only the best from your side and from mine. She’ll be well prepared for life,” said James.
Elizabeth sighed and turned to look aside at the multitude of scurrying people in the terminal’s lounge.
“Let’s go home now, if you don’t mind,” she said.
When they moved out of the coffee shop area, James said, “I know one thing for sure. You won’t sleep until you finish wha
t you’ve started. So, tell me, what connection there is between the ‘one boy only’ tradition and Noel’s abandonment.”
His words returned for a brief moment the smile in her expression. “You’ve learned some things about me. I like that,” she said.
“I love learning things about you,” said James.
“That connection is something I’ve speculated on. Why not assume that before Noel a boy only had been born in each Whiteway generation as well.”
“So far, so good.”
“I talk about more than three centuries ago. In those times the tolerance towards different people was low. Noel’s ancestors could have been discriminated against due to the ‘one boy only’ tradition. They might have stood out from the crowd in other ways too.”
“I see where you’re getting to,” he inserted.
“Maybe they were frowned upon, even persecuted, victimized—”
“That sounds a bit extreme.”
“You have a light brown complexion, brown eyes, black hair. These are not anthropological features typical of old England. Your predecessors were most probably foreigners. What if they lived in a conservative, narrow-minded community? Imagine them. People with different origins and different religious background. They kept themselves to themselves because that’s the only way they could preserve their identity. In that family, the couples had always had one child only – a boy. All this could alienate the community to them. Maybe some of the locals had grown hostile. Maybe Noel’s parents abandoned him to keep him safe from those people.”
“So, his parents wanted to disassociate him from the bad family name.”
“Yes.”
“There could have been plenty of other reasons for the fate of Noel.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Yes. But if my assumption is correct, all this would be a pretty mysterious story, don’t you think? And our daughter would be the first Whiteway girl ever. She’d be the exception to that long lasting ‘one boy only’ mystery.”
James stretched his arm and embraced Elizabeth’s waist. “Darling, I must admit you got me carried away for a moment. You’ve created an ingenious plot. Only, all of it is just speculation, as you said. Everything will be all right.”
CHAPTER THREE
London, UK
At 14.30 later that day, a dark-blue Ford Mondeo drove into the residential parking lot attached to a new-build block of flats on Bell Barn Street. A greying, middle-aged man sat in the car for a short while before getting out. He then walked to the entrance of the block, unlocked the front security door and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Stopping in front of apartment number four, he rang the doorbell. The door opened just enough for the newcomer to slip in and was quickly shut behind him.
Inside the apartment, he ran straight into two large, burly bodyguards. Their open coats revealed holsters with guns under their armpits. One of them lifted his arm in a halting gesture, while the other put a mobile phone to his ear, saying, “Anything suspicious outside?”
The answer he got appeared to satisfy him, so he stepped back and nodded to the newcomer, pointing to a slightly open door at the end of the corridor.
In the barely furnished room, a thickset man with thinning hair sat on a soft couch. On the small table in front of him, a smoking incense stick was dispensing an exotic aroma.
“Welcome. Glad to see you, Roger,” he greeted the newcomer, barely moving his lips.
“Good afternoon, Mister Farhuck.” Stretching out his hand, Roger quickly crossed the distance between the door and the seated man. He grabbed the man’s meaty palm before turning his head towards the still open door in a silently questioning gesture.
“Speak freely. They are our people,” the thickset man said.
“Perfecty, I’m very glad to see you, too. It’s been a while.” A trembling emotion could be detected in Roger’s voice.
“Yes. I travelled.” The perfecty offered him a chair and continued with a question. “Tell me about yourself. How is your practice going?”
In response to this question, Roger stared blankly into space for a moment, because suddenly he had experienced a vivid flashback of the moments when he and the perfecty had first met four years ago. At that time, he was mad on spirituality and had joined the group of followers of a famous guru. Roger remembered sitting on a pile of cushions in a large gloomy room with several other people chatting. The guru entered the room in the company of another man whom he introduced as a spiritual teacher. That man was a perfecty, although at that time he did not use his title. He revealed it to Roger much later when they had grown to know and trust each other.
Roger was accustomed to having such flashbacks when he was physically close to the perfecty. The perfecty had explained to him that this was due to the special connection between them.
“I am fine. I strive not to miss a day without prayer,” he answered.
“That’s good. Some of our friends forget how important it is to practice.”
“Well, I feel recharged after every prayer,” Roger said, clenching his fists in an indicative gesture. “It provides me with gusto for life and for my business.”
“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me. That is the right attitude,” the perfecty said.
“There’s something I’d like to ask you, if I may. I hope I’m not wasting your time,” Roger sounded a little embarrassed.
“What is it?” the perfecty asked encouragingly.
Roger scratched his forehead in confusion. “For some time now I’ve been hearing voices. Distant voices, opaque voices. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s beginning to worry me.”
The perfecty was intrigued. His eyes gleamed and a little smile crossed his lips. “Do you catch anything from the voices? Is there any message?” he asked.
“No, only fragments of words … thoughts rather. And some indefinable presence.”
The perfecty knitted his eyebrows in thought for a brief moment. With a speed unexpected of his massive body, he suddenly stood up. Automatically, Roger followed his example.
“Would you close the door,” the perfecty said in a soft voice.
Now he and the perfecty stood facing each other, separated by a distance of just two feet. The perfecty began to chant something in an incomprehensible language that sounded strange and archaic. The short, monosyllabic words echoed sonorously in the almost empty room. For a brief moment, it seemed to Roger that he understood this language even though he knew he was hearing it for first time in his life. He could not translate it literally, but he knew the perfecty was demanding power from some creature. Roger did not have time to reflect on this fascinating happening because he saw something even stranger. His eyes goggled. The perfecty’s face was changing. The thick features were melting and an unknown bony face covered with stretched greenish skin was taking shape in their place.
Instinctively, Roger tried to step away, but his body refused to obey his brain’s command. The one who moved was the perfecty. He stepped closer and swiftly stretched his hand towards Roger’s belly. Roger could not move but looked down just in time to see the perfecty’s arm sinking almost up to its elbow into his stomach.
In the next instant, the perfecty stepped back and everything became the same as before.
“Sit, Roger. Your experiences are not something bad. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Wha-what?” Roger stammered, still stunned by what he had seen, or thought he had seen.
“The voices,” the perfecty looked surprised at Roger’s confusion, as if nothing had happened between them. Inside, he was laughing, because he knew from experience how Roger would feel in these first moments. He was confused and scared now, but in time, he would be grateful. The process of initiation he had just induced inside Roger needed about a month to complete. Then Roger was going to be aware that he had received a great gift.
“Ah, yes,” Roger made an effort to pull himself together. “Do I need to do something regarding that?” he asked.
“Don’t
do anything. It simply means you have talent.” The perfecty unexpectedly gave him a wink.
“I understand… Er … sir, what happened?”
“Nothing. I prayed for you.”
I must have imagined it … of course, I imagined it, Roger thought in an attempt to convince himself.
“With abilities like yours, one day you may take my place,” the perfecty continued.
“I never dreamed of anything like that,” said Roger. “I am far away from such a possibility.”
“On the contrary. You have talent, as I said,” the perfecty assured him. “Now I am even more convinced that we are going to do a very good job. The most important job we’ve ever done.” the perfecty gave Roger a meaningful look. A few moments of silence followed.
Suddenly, Roger realised the meaning of these words. He shook himself free from the influence of the bizarre occurrence he had just involuntarily participated in. Almost whispering, he uttered, “So, the time has come.”
“Yes. We have revealed one of them. Are you ready?”
Roger looked up, his eyes glazed, and the voices were buzzing more strongly than ever in his head. “I am North, I am ready,” he said firmly.
“He’s a foreigner. He’s going to make a short visit to the UK soon. We’ve been chosen to ‘welcome’ him into the country,” the perfecty smiled, yet his eyes remained emotionless, like those of a cold-blooded predator.
“I’ve strongly hoped that this would come to our five one day. My prayers have been answered,” Roger said, trying to master his high excitement.
The perfecty reached into the inside pocket of his coat, took out a tablet PC and gave it to Roger. “Everything is written down here. I want you to read it. Ask questions, if you have any.”
“Are the others from our five acquainted with this?” Roger asked.
“All of them. We’re going to gather tonight. We’ll talk more then. Here is the address,” the perfecty gave him a business card.
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