Champions of Time (The After Cilmeri Series, #13)

by Sarah Woodbury

  “We know that David has arrived.” Grant Dempsey’s tone was all patience. “The question is what to do about it.”

  “Why do we have to do anything about it?” Livia said. “He’s broken no laws, and he can’t help what he is.”

  “Which is what, exactly?” Grant said.

  Livia cast a glance around the room, wondering what the reaction to the words she was about to say would be. They had to already know them. “David is the King of England in an alternate universe, a place Mark called ‘Earth Two’. We cannot take that status lightly.”

  “So he’s insane.” Grant slapped a hand on the table and made to rise. “I don’t know why we’re wasting our time discussing this. Pick him up. Lock him up. End of story.”

  “Sit, Grant.” The D-G’s words were a clear order, and Grant obeyed, though the speed at which he lowered himself back down to his seat was just short of insubordinate. The D-G gave a grunt that might have been of disgust and swept his eyes around the room to encompass everyone else, just as Livia had done a moment ago. “Chad Treadman has forced our hand, quite deliberately, I imagine. However it came about, this David has allied with him, and Treadman’s purchase of GCW, which some of you may recall I opposed, has given him a platform. David has shown a resourcefulness—and an ability to acquire allies—that makes him unpredictable.” Most everyone in the room wasn’t looking at the D-G directly, finding the folder in front of him suddenly fascinating.

  Livia wasn’t afraid to meet the D-G’s eyes. “From what I understand, he doesn’t mean to be.”

  “How do I approach him?”

  Livia allowed herself an indrawn breath. “It has to be with respect, sir. From the little Mark said, David is still a companion of Alexander Callum, who I think everyone in this room would agree was one of the best agents Five ever employed. Callum serves him. I think we would be wise not to forget that.”

  Grant seemed to have recovered from his run-in with the D-G’s glaring eyes, and now he sat back in his seat with a sigh. “I agree. Reluctantly, but I agree. I hadn’t considered the issue quite in that light.”

  “On top of which, Mark Jones, if he’s alive,” Livia said, “will have told David everything about the current workings of MI-5. We pursued David’s sister, to the point of scrambling the RAF to force down Chad Treadman’s plane—”

  “—and look where that got us,” Jack Stine said mockingly into his folder, though his words were loud enough that more than a few lips twitched. “He will not be disposed to view us with anything less than total distrust.”

  “Will Mark have gone so far as to give him security codes? Passwords?” Amanda said.

  “I can’t imagine why he would, and Mark would know that we would have changed everything the day he left.” Livia made a dismissive gesture. “Again, to see David as an adversary is to look at the situation incorrectly. He doesn’t want to destabilize Britain. He, of all people, as the King of England, understands what we do here and why we do it. Again, from the little Mark said, usually David has no choice about the circumstances by which he arrives here.” She made another gesture towards the paused video. “That certainly appears to be the case today.”

  “What does he want?” The D-G’s expression was intent but also curious. Livia felt a genuineness that she hadn’t expected emanating from him.

  “At worst, to be left alone. At best, to help us. Callum was the director of the Time Travel Initiative, a project that had David’s full support.” She paused. “Naturally, we killed it.”

  “Help us?” Jack Stine was also looking interested. “How might he help us?”

  “Mark didn’t tell me much, but Chad Treadman wanted contact with David because David, whether he likes it or not, is living at the cutting edge of all knowledge. He travels back and forth to an alternate universe.” She emphasized the words in hopes they would finally get through to her audience. “How could we not want him on our side? Knowing what we know about him, why was he ever put in an interrogation room?”

  “Mistakes were made.” The D-G tapped his fingers on the table, and nobody interrupted his thoughts. He was a political appointment, as many senior officials now were, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t intelligent or competent. Livia had never met him before today, but the longer this meeting went on, the more inclined she was to think he was both.

  “I was caught on the hop by what went on two weeks ago when Anna arrived.” The D-G lifted his chin to point to Amanda Crichton. “You advised me to pursue her with the full force of the law, and I agreed.”

  “Sir, I—”

  “That was the wrong approach, made all the more so because of Five’s history with this family, about which I didn’t know fully until afterwards. Because I was kept in the dark, because I was making decisions with incomplete information, we lost her and set ourselves back possibly years with these people.”

  It was rare, not to say unprecedented, for the D-G to call out a senior official in front of his or her peers, no matter how grievous the error. Only now did Livia realize that the D-G was absolutely furious.

  “If anyone knows anything else about the circumstances we face, now is the time to speak up, because if I discover that you know more than you’re telling me right now, it won’t be just your job you’ll lose.”

  The room was so quiet Livia literally could have heard a pin drop.

  “I have no desire to enter that hospital guns blazing, nor do I think we should. If nothing else, the optics are terrible. That might have been the old Five, but it isn’t who we are today. It should not have been who we were two weeks ago. The advice I received that day was bad. I knew it at the time, but I followed it anyway. So this is not really on you, Amanda.” He rocked back in his chair. “Since then, I’ve been briefed on the moth-balled Time Travel Initiative, along with its goals and accomplishments, which, despite two years of effort, I regret to say weren’t much.” He focused on Livia. “You know of it, I assume.”

  It wasn’t a question, so Livia just nodded and wondered if the direction to speak now or forever hold your peace applied to her too.

  Amanda had been looking down at her hands as they rested on the table, but now she looked up. “In the aftermath of Callum’s departure, it became clear that he’d been compromised—”

  The D-G’s response was swift. “You and I both know the project was on the way out before Callum’s departure.”

  Amanda’s head dropped again, miming a submissive pose, but Livia wasn’t fooled. She was close enough to Amanda to see how tightly she was clenching her jaw.

  It was Jack Stine who came to Amanda’s rescue. “Though most of us were here at that time, no one in this room was responsible for that decision, sir. Director Tate could tell us more, but so far he has been unwilling to cooperate.”

  “I have spoken to him,” Livia said softly.

  All heads turned towards her.

  She grimaced at their astonished looks, straightened her shoulders, and focused directly on the D-G. “This probably falls into the tell me now category, so I’m sorry if I didn’t speak up earlier. He rang to offer his support. Apparently Mark contacted him before he left and gave him my name as someone to be trusted.”

  The phone call had been unexpected—and somewhat unwelcome. At that point, Livia had been trying to remain under the radar, and a call from a former head of MI-5 and the current ambassador to Finland threatened to upend her carefully cultivated aura of innocence. The call had made her realize, however, how fine a line between right and wrong she was walking.

  It was time to let go of her fear. If she was destined for a cell, so be it.

  “It’s probably time to tell you too that I know a great deal—if not everything—about the Time Travel Initiative.”

  The D-G stared at her. She’d surprised even him. “Mark told you?”

  “I have read the files.”

  “More than this?” He held up the manila folder. “This is all we have left.”

  Livia’s eyes went
to Amanda, who was looking down at her hands. “You really have no copies left? Mark thought that the initiative had been reconstituted in the inner reaches of Five. That’s how you got up to speed so quickly two weeks ago.”

  “That was Amanda liaising with her counterpart at the CIA,” the D-G said.

  “And this is all they gave you?” She pushed the folder into the center of the table. “This file is woefully incomplete. I learned more by watching the telly.”

  “You’re saying you have more?” The D-G said.

  If possible, the silence was more complete than before. Even Grant had stopped rocking his chair.

  “A record, complete or not, I don’t know, was left in the filing cabinets in my office.” And for the benefit of these higher-ups, Livia added, “It’s in the basement, where all old machines, files, and furniture go to die.”

  The D-G turned away, tapped on the screen in front of him, and spoke to the person who answered. “Seal off Livia Cross’s office immediately. Nobody is to enter until I myself have done so. Is that clear?”

  An affirmative noise came from the tablet, and he looked up again. “Fill in the blanks.”

  Livia swallowed. “As I assume you know, the Initiative was begun because chasing David and his family all over Britain had proved to be a losing strategy.” She then related everything she could remember from the files while being constantly interrupted and peppered with questions, not all of which she could answer.

  After a half hour of that, the D-G leaned back in his chair, indicating this particular phase of the meeting was over. He was back to tapping his fingers on the table. “So what do we do now? How do we salvage the situation?”

  Whether or not the question was meant for Livia, she answered it, “I don’t know that we can.” She canted her head, about to add that if the D-G allowed Livia herself to talk to David, all might not, in fact, be lost.

  But Amanda slapped her hand on the table.

  “We pursued David and his family because we are obligated to protect our nation from all threats, and what he can do is a threat if I ever saw one. How can you not see that?”

  Livia turned to her and opened her mouth, but the D-G put up a hand to stop her from speaking and spoke himself instead, “Explain your reasoning.”

  “I can’t be the only one who reads.” Amanda stuck out her arm, pointing a finger towards the windows behind them and gesturing expansively. “The changes to themselves or our history aside—which I’m not putting aside but I submit that we might not be able to track those changes—what are they doing to space and time when they travel? Are they ripping a hole in the fabric of reality?”

  Interestingly, it was Grant Dempsey who laughed. “You’ve been watching Dr. Who.”

  Amanda glared at him. “We have to know what effect what they do is having on our world. And as far as I can see, David leaves only destruction in his wake.”

  Jack had his fingers steepled before his lips. “How do you figure?”

  “Exhibit A: Caernarfon Castle,” Amanda said. “Exhibit B: the destabilization of the intelligence services, to which even our American friends haven’t been immune.”

  The other woman in the room, Kavya Collins, the liaison from Special Branch, spoke for the first time. MI-5 had many operatives but no police force of their own. It would be she who designated the men in black that accompanied agents on their missions. “Even if what you say wasn’t absurd, Amanda, there are nations in the world today that are hostile to Britain. Is threatening them always the best way to get them to do what we want?” She shook her head, looking away from Amanda to the D-G. “The reason we went after Anna the way we did was because we thought she was a soft target. An easy target. We did it because we thought we could get away with it.”

  Grant scoffed. “It is not your place to—”

  “It is her place. That’s why she was included in this meeting.” The soft voice of the D-G interrupted Grant. “Amanda, I want your resignation on my desk within the hour. Grant, are you on board? Are you able to follow my lead in this?”

  Grant’s skin was pale to begin with, but it became a little whiter. He cleared his throat. “Of course, sir. Always.”

  “Good.”

  Amanda rose to her feet. “I have only ever had the safety and best interests of my country at heart.” She stalked from the room. The D-G nodded to a man who’d been standing unobtrusively with his back to the wall. He opened the door for Amanda and then followed her from the room. He would shadow her to her office, stand over her while she collected her personal belongings, and escort her to the exit.

  “Will she go to the press?” Jack said.

  “She signed the Official Secrets Act, just like everyone here,” Grant said.

  Kavya was studying Livia. “I have been listening carefully to everything that’s been said here, and even with the background Livia just gave us, there’s more we don’t know.” As Livia had done, she pushed her dossier on David towards the center of the table. “You know more than you’ve said, Livia. It isn’t just the Time Travel Initiative. I think you even spoke to Anna. I can see it in your eyes. You know them. Who are these people? It’s time you filled us in on what we’re missing.”

  So Livia threw caution to the winds and did.

  Chapter Twelve

  1 April 1294

  Ieuan

  By early afternoon, Ieuan found himself standing in a field not far from where his company had hidden themselves two weeks ago, binoculars to his face, studying the terrain around Beeston Castle. Cadwaladr and his men had long since left off watching the place. With the army surrounding the castle on all sides, it wasn’t as if they needed to hide in the barn anymore, and Cadwaladr had resumed his duties as captain of Llywelyn’s teulu.

  This time it was Callum, rather than Math, beside Ieuan. Roger Mortimer remained where they’d left him, penned inside his high walls. He hadn’t hanged anyone from the battlements yet, which he could have done in retaliation for the arrival of the army. David had decided to take that risk, and had gone to Constance with bowed head to tell her that he wouldn’t be trading England’s safety to save her husband.

  At the same time, Roger had to know that the hostages he held were the only thing keeping David from assaulting the castle with all the power at his disposal. Until a friendly force—namely the army of King Balliol—marched to Mortimer’s aid, or David’s army finished constructing its siege engines, they were at a stalemate.

  Humphrey de Bohun appeared at his right shoulder with Edmund Mortimer in tow. “Is it true what they’re saying?”

  Ieuan dropped the binoculars from his eyes. He could not mistake the combination of fear, anger, and worry in Humphrey’s voice. “I don’t know what they’re saying, but if they are telling you that the king has taken your son to Avalon, then yes, it’s true.”

  Humphrey’s hands clenched into fists. “You should have come to me yourself and told me. I shouldn’t have had to find this out from your men.”

  Ieuan didn’t think he should have to justify his actions to Bohun, but the man had lost his son and deserved a gentle reply. “I went to your tent, and you weren’t there. I asked that you come to me, so that when I told you, you wouldn’t have an audience.”

  Bohun glared at him for a moment, and then subsided, closing his eyes briefly, maybe even to hold back tears.

  Ieuan stepped a little closer. “This happened to me, remember? You’ve been to the hospital at Dinas Bran. Believe me when I say that what we can do here is a fraction of what can be done for William there.”

  Bohun swept a trembling hand across his brow. “It’s my son. My only son.”

  Edmund Mortimer put a hand on Humphrey’s shoulder and squeezed. The two men were similar in age, both in their forties, cousins as well as lifelong friends.

  Callum nudged Humphrey’s elbow. “It is regrettable that this happened, Humphrey, but Avalon is the best place for him if he was wounded by the assassin’s bolt.”

  “And where is
this assassin?” Humphrey spoke through clenched teeth. “I will kill him with my bare hands!”

  “He was in custody and not talking when we left,” Ieuan said. “His identity was not yet known.”

  “I would have made him talk.”

  “So will Bevyn,” Ieuan said.

  Angry as he was, even Humphrey couldn’t disagree with that assessment.

  “He had two arrows in him,” Callum added. “Nobody is taking this lightly, believe me.”

  “William saved the king’s life,” Ieuan said. “Maybe that’s of no comfort, but he was doing his duty as he saw it.”

  “They were both moving when the bolt hit William’s back,” Callum said. “William was trying to protect David, and David was trying to move William out of the way in order to take the bolt himself.”

  “Where was William hit?” Edmund said.

  “We don’t know.” Callum grimaced. “Somewhere on his right side. He was alive when he went to Avalon, I can assure you of that. I can also assure you that with treatment in Avalon, with exercise and patience, a year from now he should hardly be able to tell that it happened.”

  Ieuan didn’t meet Callum’s eyes. He was talking through his hat, as Ieuan’s wife liked to say, because really they had no idea how bad the wound was. Instead, Ieuan looked at Bohun. “You still with us?”

  “God help me.” Bohun let out a groan. “But yes, I’m with you. William fights better with his left hand than with his right anyway.”

  Ieuan had noticed that, actually, but had chosen not to say anything in case it sounded like an excuse for why William’s loss was less serious than Humphrey felt it to be.

  Callum nodded. “What’s the situation with Roger Mortimer?”

  “No change,” Edmund said shortly. “My brother hides behind his walls. Honestly, at this point, I have no idea what he’s thinking.”

  “If he knew what was good for him, once he knew that David was alive, he would have retreated to France,” Callum said. “A fortnight is a long time to wait for retribution—or rescue.”

  Edmund shook his head. “If he flees, he knows David will come after him. There’s no place he can run. His lands are in Aquitaine, which David rules, and the King of France remains an ally of England. He will have no interest in harboring someone who arranged for the murder of an ally, especially David, who saved Philip’s life.”