The Aurora Conspiracies- Volume One

by Sam Nash

  “I’m afraid I do not know what you are referring to. You are Mary’s Grandpapa, are you not?” She was using her low husky, seductress voice in her attempts to charm him.

  “You know very well what I am talking about. Tell that two-faced back stabbing bitch at the top that if she threatens my girl, or any of my family again, I’ll unleash a shit storm that will wipe the lot of you from the face of the planet. And you know I can do it too. I have everything backed up and automated, just in case you were thinking of eliminating me instead.” His vehemence undeniable. His face just a few inches from her nose, Pip waited for her response. Then, in a shocking display of submission, Yelena nodded.

  Above their heads, Mary’s form undulated and faltered. She struggled to maintain the pattern of consciousness allowing her free travel from her body. What can Grampy mean? Did he just threaten the Prime Minister? As Mary followed Pip in through the security doors to the labour ward, she caught an unconstrained look of fright in Yelena’s eyes.

  Rushing to reintegrate with her body before Pip could reach her side, Mary heard his words reverberate around her mind. How can Grampy, unleash a shit storm that will affect the British government? Mary opened her eyes and her brain registered the intense pain her body still endured.

  “Hey sweetie pie.” Pip kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry.” He shook Dan by the hand and together they exchanged their unspoken concern, before returning their attention to Mary. “Are you in a lot of pain?” Pip fussed with her gown and smoothed her hair. “Is there anything you need?”

  “The pain is easing. Thank you for coming.”

  “Don’t be daft. I’m not going to let my best girl suffer without me.” Distracted by the howls and grunts of the over-crowded labour unit, Pip’s happy façade slipped. He took in the conveyor belt of grief surrounding them and something seemed to resonate in his features. An expression of understanding that only Mary could detect. Pip viewed these tragedies as the casualties of war. Did he possess the weapon to alter the course of the current government rampage through human lives?

  This was neither the time nor the place to discuss such matters, but Mary ached for the answers. How much power did Pip wield, and over whom? If she could just get to talk with him alone. A midwife arrived to check up on her, offering her analgesic medication and encouraging her to drink plenty of fluids. Dan pulled out a juice carton from his carrier bag of snacks, unwrapped the straw and handed it to his sister.

  “How can we tell the women here not to drink the water?” Dan said, speaking in a hushed tone.

  Mary shrugged, trying to sit up from the hospital trolley. “I don’t understand why the water machine in Parth’s ward had no filter. What was to gain from removing it?” Mary said, less quietly.

  “I suspect it is an attempt to save money. Those filters are not cheap, and NHS money is tight.” Pip said. His hooded eyes set in an enduring unease. “I’d be happy to pay for you to spend some time in the private Lindo Wing here. It’s where the royals had their children.”

  “Darling. Grampy. You never stop worrying do you? I’ll be fine in a bit. Actually, I could do with the loo. Dan, can you help me off this thing?” Mary wriggled her legs down to the cold floor, wincing under the exertion, and slipped in her socks to the ladies’ room. A minute or two alone with her thoughts. Grabbing a wrapped sanitary napkin from the stack next to the wash basins, Mary closed the door of a cubicle and assessed the progress of her condition. At last the blood flow was diminishing, but her abdomen still ached with a grave heaviness inside.

  The woman in the next cubicle sobbed uncontrollably. She rattled off the last of the toilet paper from the roll and blew her nose. The hysteria paused briefly, so that she could ask Mary to pass more paper beneath the wall of the stall, then resumed her staccato cries. Another casualty in the war to curb gifted people like Mary.

  This cannot go on. I must find out what Grampy has against the Prime Minister. If this carnage can be stopped, then it must, whatever the cost. I have to talk with him alone. She shambled back to her trolley bed and asked a nurse for her clothes.

  “You are not thinking of discharging yourself, are you?” Dan said.

  “I want to see how Parth is, that’s all. I’d rather not go wandering around the hospital departments holding my gown together at the back to prevent my bum from being on display.”

  Pip chuckled. “Wait here, I’ll go and sort out a wheelchair for you.” He switched his brain into doctor mode to speak with the nurses and returned to his grandchildren mildly perturbed. “They all know about you and Parth. The entire place is talking about it.” He handed Mary a plastic bag containing her clothes and satchel. Mary changed in the ladies’ room and hurried back to Pip and the borrowed wheelchair.

  “I don’t need that, Gramps. I can walk just fine.”

  “It’s a greater distance than you imagine. Come on. No chair, no visit.” Pip commanded, reverting to days when Mary was a little girl.

  Acquiescing to his wishes, Mary slung the satchel across the handles of the wheelchair and made herself comfortable. On the way to the elevator, they looked back towards Dan lingering behind them.

  “I’m gonna stick around here for a bit. See if I can’t get any useful info from Yelena. I’d rather not confront Parth right now. I’m likely to strangle him.” Dan winked at his little sister, pocketed his phone and left through the security doors leading to the stairs.

  The slow bumpy descent in the lift was accompanied by a happy couple with their new infant swinging in a portable car seat. The father loaded up with bags, accessories, balloons and gifts. The woman sitting in her wheelchair next to Mary, dazed with a worried look of a first-time mother about her. Their entourage of junior midwife carrying the baby and porter pushing the wheelchair making suitable congratulatory remarks and cooing at the squawking child. At least they seem unaffected by current events, Mary thought, trying to dismiss a pang of jealousy rising in her gut.

  On the ground floor, Pip asked for directions to Parth’s ward from the lady at reception and steered the wheelchair along a lengthy echoing corridor.

  “Grampy, is there something that you are not telling me?” Mary tried to look over her shoulder at him, but the angle was too great. A decent view of his chin was all she could obtain.

  “I imagine there is a great deal I have not told you. I’m an old man, Mary. It would take a lifetime to tell you everything.” From the tone of his voice she could tell he was deflecting her, attempting to make light of the situation.

  “Something relating to…” Mary halted, waiting for a hospital worker to pass them before she continued. “My current circumstance?”

  “Perhaps. Nothing for you to worry about. Suffice to say, that one day soon, when all this is behind you, I’ll explain everything. Just concentrate on getting better.”

  “Well that’s no answer at all.” She huffed. “Gramps, you saw what it’s like up in maternity. If you know a way to prevent others from suffering, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?”

  “If I had that kind of power, my love, I would put a stop to all the suffering in the world. Parth’s ward is up there on the left. Are you sure you want to see him?” Pip slowed the wheelchair, allowing Mary a few additional moments to prepare herself.

  “Yes, I want to make sure he is recovering. Then I won’t feel so bad leaving him to the care of his sisters.” They drew level with the nurse’s station.

  The ward sister was on duty. She smiled in recognition at Mary. “Are you recovering well, Mrs Arora?”

  “I am, thank you. And thanks again for helping me through…well, you know.” More smiles all round. “Is Parth any better?”

  “Yes, making good progress. He has some sensation back in his limbs. He’s been asleep for an hour or two, but I don’t suppose he will mind if you wake him.” The ward sister was called away to the room next to Parth’s, leaving Pip and Mary to approach the automatic door.

  Inside, Parth lay still with his mouth slightly agape.
Bending over the tube supplying fluids, syringe in hand, was a dishevelled woman wearing a white coat and huge black boots. Startled, the woman looked around. Her eyes reduced to slits, as she went to grab at the cannula plug.

  “Wait…” Mary said, jumping to her feet. “I know you. You served us at the restaurant. Stop that.” Mary grabbed the woman’s wrist, shaking it hard until she dropped the syringe. Pushing backwards, she head-butted Mary, catching the top of her forehead with force. Blood trickled down into Mary’s eye from the gash at her hairline. Dazed, she thrashed her arms, connecting one minor blow to the killer’s ear.

  The woman turned and reached inside her white coat to a small pistol tucked in her waistband. Mary jumped back at the sight of the silencer inches from her face. Her reflexes kicked in. She clutched the gun with both hands, wrestling it high into the air. The woman fought back. She yanked it away from Mary’s grasp and smashed the back of her fist against her cheekbone.

  Undeterred, Mary jabbed the woman in the nose, following through with a hair tug that wrenched the killer’s neck to breaking point. A cracking noise of the pistol discharging a bullet, reverberated in Mary’s ear. It was followed by the splintering thud as it smashed through Pip’s face, drilled clean through his brain and lodged itself in the wall.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The knees of Doctor Phillip Lawrence collapsed beneath him, his body sank to the floor in a distorted heap. A kind old face obliterated by the bullet’s impact. The vessel that contained his personality, his years of experience, wisdom and love, his essence, splattered across the glass of the door.

  For one suspended moment in time, Mary was numb. The impossible notion of his death filtered through her brain, and then anger boiled over. An uncontrolled rage of inordinate scale. Mary’s grip tightened on the handful of hair in her grasp, yanking the scalp taught and dragging the assassin backwards. With a long desolate, banshee howl, Mary raised her free hand, summoning all the power she could generate into a colossal charge, and blasted it through the woman’s features. Charred flesh, melted gristle and singed hair were all that remained of the killer’s head. The tissues contained within the skull, still bubbling hot and steaming.

  Mary released her grip, allowed the carcass to fall, and stood over the remains of her beloved grandfather, stock still. A chill crept through her limbs as she took in his lifeless figure. His neatly ironed shirt now spoiled with blood. The way his trouser leg ruched up revealing his medical stocking beneath. Mary crouched down and pulled the fabric over his leg. He would be mortified to have people see him like this.

  Crossing her legs, Mary sat on the floor rocking herself. Nurses, doctors, police, MI6 agents all came and went around her, but she would not let them touch his body. Nor could she conjure the words to explain what had happened.

  Dan was sent for, although he felt her immediate heartache blend with his own upon impact. The sight of Pip’s disintegrated head induced immediate nausea. He washed his face and swilled his mouth then returned to his sister, in her misery on the hospital floor. The assassin was processed by crime scene investigators, treading in careful steps around her. Parth was checked over and moved in his drowsy state to another room.

  Biting his inner cheek to control his tear ducts, Dan joined Mary crossed-legged on the linoleum. “We have to let them clear the room, Mary.” He looked at her glazed eyes and slack facial muscles. She was retreating inside. Dan persisted. “They will look after him. Please will you come with me? We can talk elsewhere.” Still, Mary did not respond. He lay his arm across her shoulders and drew closer to her face. Nothing. Not a hint of acknowledgement. Not even a blink.

  Dan had one more method left to try. Resting his head against hers, he closed his eyes and harmonised their brainwaves. Confronted with a maelstrom of pain, Dan battled to connect with her consciousness. He sensed the crushing despair and loneliness. The resistance to connect with reality. He forged closer to her psyche but felt her retreat. It was as though she had erected a stone tower inside her mind and shut herself away in the highest room.

  “Mary.” Dan pleaded inside her mind. “Please talk to me.”

  “What’s the point? I have lost everything. My marriage, my career, my family, my baby. He was all I had left.”

  “Not everything. You still have me. You will always have me. Please don’t leave me to deal with all this alone. Pip was special to me too.” Dan could not prevent the tears from falling. They streamed down unimpeded and soaked his collar. Little by little, the walls of her castle crumbled. Dan soothed her jangled mind with gentleness and comfort. Sharing memories of Pip from Dan’s childhood that Mary had never seen. Birthday gifts of telescopes given during adolescent discos. The opening day of his bookshop and the first time he introduced Pip to his girlfriend, Connie. So many happy scenes to relate, Dan felt his heart might implode.

  Occupied in a shared grief, Dan slid his arms beneath his sister’s legs and carried her from the room, leaving the crime scene officers to their work. For more than an hour, Dan coaxed Mary back into the real world. Fully conscious and in control of herself once more.

  Yelena dared to approach them. “You have my deepest sympathies.”

  “Whatever you are going to say, Yelena, save it. Now is not the time.” Dan growled.

  Yelena was taken aback by this hidden forceful side to him but continued anyway. “Actually, there will be no other time. The Defence Minister won’t listen to reason. You must leave now.”

  “But what about Grampy?” Mary said, finding her voice at last.

  “I will ensure that he is treated with dignity and respect. Now go.” Yelena held out her arm, pointing to the exit.

  “How do you propose we get past the masses of Christians and reporters unnoticed? Not to mention your own team of agents.” Dan blustered.

  “Dr Tendai Harper is waiting for you both in the last room before the exit. He has an ambulance on standby. Now go, quick.”

  “I need my…”

  “Satchel?” Dan handed her bag over from the nurses’ desk then shepherded her down the corridor to a waiting trolley. Dan helped Mary on board, while Tendai covered her body and their bags with a blanket and her face with an oxygen mask.

  Tendai and Dan pushed the gurney to the elevator, down to the ground floor, and out through a side entrance to the ambulance.

  “Here, I must say goodbye.” Tendai shook their hands with vigour. “It has been a pleasure to know you both. You have a remarkable gift, Mary Arora. Try to keep its use pure.”

  Mary attempted a smile, but it transformed into a chastised look of shame.

  “I cannot thank you enough, doc.” Dan said, jumping into the rear of the vehicle. Tendai closed the doors and disappeared back into the building.

  “Where can we go?” Dan said, with rising anxiety. “If the minister is determined, it won’t be long before he sends someone else to finish you off.”

  Mary leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Can you take us round the block to the train station, please?” And then to Dan, “We have a bit of time on our side. The minister thinks we are pinned down with Parth at the hospital, with Yelena keeping guard. We must get to Grampy’s house in Brighton. He had something in his possession that frightened Yelena into backing off. We need to figure out what that is.”

  The ambulance cruised through the traffic, taking full advantage of the sympathy of other drivers moving from their path. Dan looked troubled. “How does Yelena get away with deliberately defying the orders of the Defence Minister? That’s twice she has let you run from MI6 agents, and there appears to be no repercussions for her.”

  Mary thought for a moment, her opinions vacillating between strong ties of friendship and loyalty to a long and more sinister game plan. “Technically speaking, the Defence Secretary was in charge and calling all the shots when I ran from Ditchley. I guess she has blamed Tendai for our escape this time.”

  “Hmm, perhaps.” Dan mused. “But something still does not add up.”

>   Their conversation was interrupted when the ambulance pulled up on the kerb, allowing them to climb down into the flow of pedestrians heading for the station entrance around the corner. They thanked the driver, and Dan tried to tip him with a generous bank note. The man declined the offer and wished them luck and good health on their journey.

  Dan unzipped his holdall and pulled out a baseball cap and sunglasses, courtesy of Connie once again. Tucking her hair beneath the hat, Mary donned the sunglasses and made her way through the crowds to a prearranged spot inside. Dan followed on, just a few seconds later, bought tickets from a machine using cash and surreptitiously passed the printed card to Mary as he strolled past her.

  Separating once again, they made their way through the ticket barriers and waited some distance apart on the platform. After boarding, each of them loitered until the train had left the station before finding seats together for the journey to Brighton.

  “Finally.” Mary said. She pulled off the hat but chose to retain the sunglasses to ward off the intrusive afternoon sunlight that blanketed one side of the carriage. “I’m shattered.” She relaxed into the grimy headrest, her arms falling limp in her lap.

  “Does this all feel a bit too easy to you?” Dan said, glancing around at the other travellers nearby.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Like they let us go.”

  “You think we are being tailed?” Mary sat forward in the seat, craning her neck above the headrests to peer at the people surrounding them. Most were students, some tourists and a few business men and women, who looked too preoccupied in their laptop work to be agents. “I don’t see any likely suspects. Could be paranoia?”

  “I hope so. At any rate, there’s nothing to be done about it right now. You may as well get some rest. I’ll wake you if needs be.” Resuming his guard duty over his little sister, Dan kept a beady eye on the passengers’ activities, while they hurtled through the South Downs towards the coast.