by Paul Heron
‘We know this guy Garcia has done something.’ Ajit said.
‘Yes,’ Eduardo emptied the rest of his bottle of water down his throat. ‘During the conversation, the prime minister said the UN meeting has left the political world in a mess.’
‘But, what was really odd,’ Ajit added, ‘was the tone of this Mr Garcia.’
‘What do you mean?’ Marcel said.
‘As soon as the prime minister said she thought everything was a mess, Garcia replied with “Oh, it was a success, trust me” then he laughed. It doesn’t sound like much, I know, but trust us, it was the way Garcia said it, like he knew something... something the others didn't.’
Eduardo jumped out of his chair and ran to the window. He feared that someone could be eavesdropping on them. ‘Something definately happened at the UN meeting, something that this Garcia is not telling anyone about. And I think it’s related to what that lady...’
Sofia cleared her throat.
‘What Elisabetta said,’ Eduardo smiled apologetically at Sofia.
‘And then,’ Ajit said, ‘we tried to search for the Mancini Corporation, cross referencing it with Ministry of Mythology and Fomorians. Well, I don’t need to tell you. See for yourselves.’
Everyone searched for the corporation.
‘There’s no information available on them,’ Carolina concluded, sounding defeated.
‘But listen to this.’ Eduardo played them a recorded conversation about a tree known as The Dark Tree in the Mexican jungle. Extracts from its leaves are mixed with water.’
‘Hold on a second. From what Elisabetta has said, that’s true,’ Carolina said. ‘They used this drug at a recent UN meeting. Elisabetta said this, and she was right.’
‘Yes,’ Sofia said.
‘Well, this is not the good news day for our poor politicians,’ Mohammad said from the floor.
There was a knock at the door. Everyone stood still. Who could it be? They were all there, all seven of them. Who else would be joining them?
After the apparent top-secret conversation which they had heard, they were half afraid it was Garcia at the door, or the whole Mancini Corporation. For all they knew was the bloody Fomorians had arrived to tear them all limb from limb. And from the expressions on all of their faces, their confidence was a little shaky.
Michael put his ear against the door and took a deep breath. ‘Who is it?’
‘Ahmad,’ said a man with a foreign accent.
‘He’s the guy who sent me a message earlier. George said he’s here to help.’ Michael opened the door. Ahmad stood six foot tall, and wore a cream coloured suit with a white shirt and blue tie.
‘Salaam,’ Michael greeted the man.
Ahmad stepped in without invitation. ‘I’m here to help. George has told me everything. You can trust me.’ He looked serious. ‘This Mancini Corporation has taken my family, and I’ll do anything to find them. I think they’re under the influence of the drug the company is using.’
Michael looked at the rest of the group. Should they trust Ahmad? Michael wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t sure about anything. Either way, he didn’t truly know who to trust.
‘George told me about you earlier.’ Michael stood in the centre of the room. ‘Okay, tell us what you know about this Mancini organisation.’
‘The Mancini Corporation is everywhere. They’re pretty much unstoppable. I know that Pietro Mancini murdered Elisabetta Sirani because he wanted to sell her sculpture of the earth to get rich. I know...’ he glanced at Sofia, ‘that Elisabetta Sirani is your ancestor. I know the Fomorians are eager to grow in strength to defeat Elisabetta and The Tuatha da Danann in The Otherworld. He laughed. I know it must be hard for you to take all this in, but the world you all believed in, is not what it seemed. You were not meant to know this until you were older. But changing circumstances has caused Elisabetta to summon you all for duty a little early.’
He paused for a second, looking frustrated, his eyes darting all around the room as if looking for an answer to mend his upset. ‘I’ll do anything to find my mother and father. The Fomorians are real. There are still Fomorian monsters that walk the world with us. Over time, they’ve grown in strength and capability. They can now even transform themselves into humans. They could be serving you in your local Tesco. They could be standing beside you at the bus stop. They’re everywhere.’
‘It’s true, I seen Scarlett kill two of them at the airport when I arrived.’ Michael said.
‘So why don’t they just take over the world?’ Sofia said.
‘They don’t have the numbers to take over. But they also don’t want to die away. So they choose to live among us.’ Ahmad made a point to look at everyone in the group. ‘Forget everything you thought you knew about this world. Humans know only a fraction of reality. But, my friends, we must prepare for the fight of our lives. Because if the Fomorians are victorious, if Mancini Corporation succeed in this world, we may never come back from this.’
Nobody responded. The pressure cooker was expanding. It appeared everything was ready to boil over.
Chapter Fourteen
‘WHY DO YOU ALL LOOK guilty?’ Ahmad asked, trying to contain his smile as if he already knew what they’d been up to. Their device. The room felt thick with secrets. They all exchanged glances, as if to say, where do we start?
Carolina took the lead. ‘As much as I struggle to say this, as frightening as it is, apparently, our recent trip to Tuscany has some truth.’
‘I’ve seen the news, I know what you mean,’ Ahmad said. ‘As for the issue with radio signals, was that you?’
They all looked at each other, grinning.
Ahmad laughed. ‘I hope you all know this is going to be like a tornado, it’ll come from nowhere, fast. In fact, it’s already started. If our enemies have become aware of your arrival, they’ll be coming after you. He looked at all of them. His expression reinforcing the words that came out of his mouth.
Another knock at the door.
‘Ajit, are you having a party tonight?’ Mohammad complained, dragging himself off the rug. He lazily strolled across the room and pulled the door open.
‘I’ve got news you all need to hear,’ George said, stepping through the doorway. He looked surprised to see so many people crammed into such a small space. ‘A suspicious looking vehicle was spotted lingering around the gallery: a grey BMW X6. When questioned, Hamish informed me that two men wearing matching black suits got out of the car. One did all the talking. The man had an accent similar to Eduardo’s, as Hamish described it. He asked Hamish if he knew an Irish lad around the age of sixteen, called Michael...’
Michael’s stomach sank; he felt blood drain from his face.
‘The suit – who I’m going to guess is part of Mancini Corporation – said that this Irish lad is part of an investigation sanctioned by the United Nations’ Secretary of Defence, Mr Da-Nang.’ George gave Michael an apologetic look. ‘We need to keep all you guys out of public view. As of this moment, none of you are safe.’ he said.
‘Why are they asking for Michael?’ Carolina said, coming to Michael’s defence.
‘Elisabetta has chosen Michael to be the book bearer. If she’s chosen him for this job, then she views him as the one with the greatest responsibility. Therefore,’ he looked at Michael. ‘There’s something about you that they’ll want.’
Michael’s heart raced. He certainly didn’t feel equipped for such a task. He was about to puke. He had been in England for a little over twelve hours, and he was already involved in an international investigation. How was he supposed to process that on top of everything else. His entire life before he’d arrived was now questionable.
‘So I’m wanted, apparently, by the government?’ Michael felt dizzy. ‘The government are after me?’ He looked at Marcel and tried to smile, but he ended up pulling one of those awkward faces.
‘We’ll get them, amigo!’ Marcel said, nervously tugging his shirt cuffs through his jacket sleeves.
‘Sofia, fancy a trip to Whitehall, Westminster? To the office of Matt Cole?’ Ahmad suggested.
‘The British Minister of Defence?’ Sofia said, folding her arms. ‘It...’ she looked at Michael, ‘...may actually be a good way to find some information about Mancini Corporation, and what Michael’s being investigated for. I mean what else have we to go on? The device can’t even find anything on them.’
‘We need to be smart about this,’ Carolina said. ‘Something sanctioned by the UN is about as big as this could get.’ She looked at Marcel. ‘How on earth did you manage to get us involved in this? I told you I felt strange about coming to England.’
Marcel looked shocked, unable to respond. He nervously fixed his already perfect tie and cleared his throat.
‘Kick his ass, Carolina, I’ll go look for some popcorn,’ Mohammad laughed.
‘Are you ever serious?’ Carolina snapped, turning towards Mohammad.
The room felt increasingly tense.
‘So London?’ Ajit said. ‘When do we leave, now?’
‘It’s nearly eight o’clock,’ Michael laughed. ‘That would be a waste of time.’
‘Well, I don’t bloody know,’ Ajit shouted. ‘I’ve never done this before.’
‘And what, do you think I’m an expert on all this?’ Michael shouted. ‘Screw this. Screw you, George. Screw all of you. I don’t even know you. I want to go back home. And screw Elisabetta Sirani and anyone else who wants to drop this all on me.’
Michael made for the door. George blocked his exit. ‘George, get out of my way. Before I move you myself.’
George looked into Michael’s eyes. Michael was breathing deeply, looking as if he was ready to lash out. ‘Michael, none of us asked to be involved in this. You go out there on your own, you’re in danger. If you’re taken into custody, the Mancini Corporation will make sure you do exactly as they say. The Fomorians, The Dark One, they’re all very real. Not just some story. You need to accept that and allow us to keep you safe.’ He looked at the rest of the group. ‘The reason you’re all dressed in those damn suits, the reason Sofia and Michael have the brains they have, is to allow you all to go into offices like that of Matt Cole. Like it or not, this is going to be very dangerous, but not half as bad if the world falls to Mancini Corportation.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll have ID badges made tonight. Tomorrow, you’ll be officers for the United Nations Political Affairs Department. This will help get you into restricted zones, like the office of Matt Cole.’
Having heard enough, Michael left for his room. He had a bowl of oatmeal and then fell asleep with the light on.
At ten forty p.m., Michael’s eyes shot open, hoping he’d just had the strangest dream ever. He sat up on his bed; it wasn’t a dream. Feeling groggy, he got up, switched off the light and returned to bed. He tried to sleep again, but he couldn’t. He lay there looking at the moonlit ceiling, his mind racing. He was sure the others were wide awake, too, either feeling homesick or nervous about what the hell they’d just become. He couldn’t fully comprehend his first day in England, sitting in a strange bed, in a strange building, in a strange country, in a strange body. He couldn’t turn to his family or his friends. He didn’t even know if his family or friends were who they said they were. He felt completely alone again.
Just as he was drifting off, Michael’s mobile vibrated. It was a text message to the Sirani Seven Group.
Can I borrow L’amico for something? It was Mohammad.
‘Sawd off,’ Ajit texted.
‘I can’t sleep either,’ Marcel replied.
‘Stop texting!’ Sofia replied.
Michael read the messages, grinning. He sniggered. A small light attracted his attention, coming from the chain around his neck, glistening under the moonlight. He responded to the chat. Screw this, who wants to go to a pub and see what being an adult is like? We all turn eighteen in a couple of weeks anyway. Who’s up for a night on the town?
I am! Eduardo replied, almost instantly.
I am! Ajit followed, to Michael’s surprise.
Let’s all get pissed and have a laugh, Marcel replied.
Meet at the front door in ten minutes. I want to dance, Sofia added.
Michael jumped from his bed, filled with rebellious excitement. As he pulled on his navy suit jacket, doubt entered his mind. Then he shook it off. Screw it. He sprinted out of his room as if escaping a prison cell, finding Ajit doing the same.
‘This is madness,’ Ajit chuckled.
Michael smiled.
‘Our lives are madness, so why not?’ Ajit shouted, fixing his tie and pulling his cuffs out from under his jacket sleeves. ‘How do I look?’
‘Like someone who’s just learned that the world is not as it seems.’ Michael said. ‘Me?’
‘Same,’ Ajit burst into a fit of laugher. ‘Lets go.’
Chapter Fifteen
THE NEXT MORNING, AT ten past ten, Michael slowly opened his eyes. After a few seconds, the room started to come into focus. On the ceiling, directly above him was a poster of the County Antrim Gaelic football team – a team he’d once wished to play for.
‘You insisted we put that up last night – or I should say this morning at half past three.’
Michael jolted in shock. He looked to his left. Scarlett was sitting on the desk chair at his work station. ‘How do you feel?’ She shook her head and sighed, biting her lower lip as if to stop herself from laughing. ‘Hope you enjoyed your first visit to the police station last night. I hope that, given everything we’re involved in, this isn’t going to be a regular occurrence.’
‘So you weren’t a dream then!’ Michael sat up on his bed. His throat was bone dry. Grateful to find a bottle of water on the bedside cabinet, he put it to his lips and drank. He finished half of the bottle, then looked at Scarlett. ‘Police station? What happened?’
‘George received a phone call at two thirty this morning from Police Constable Ward, saying she had you seven clowns under arrest for disorderly behaviour and criminal damage.’ She couldn’t help but laugh. ‘So, George kindly woke Ringo and I up and asked us to accompany him to the station.’
‘What?’ Michael didn’t believe it. ‘No way,’ he laughed.
‘Well, do you remember anything?’
He looked at her with a blank stare, remembering nothing. He had nothing but a hazy mind and a pounding headache.
‘Check your phone. You were quite the photographer last night. I think you even have some videos you kindly added to Facebook.’
He looked around for his phone, finding it in the pocket of his trousers. Only twelve percent battery.
After plugging it in to charge, he found eight new videos and twenty-seven photographs. His phone’s screensaver was him and Marcel kissing an attractive blond-haired lady on each cheek. He played the longest video, which ran for over three minutes. It began with Marcel chatting up a dark haired, big breasted lady wearing a white T-shirt which read: “Little Camberly Inn” across the chest. She was serving him a pint. As the camera closed in on Marcel – who looked like he was about to put on his sunglasses, Eduardo screamed ‘Amigo!’ from behind, causing the photographer to spin around and find Eduardo with a Tequila in each hand and a Mexican Sombrero on his head.
As Michael continued to watch the video, Scarlett began a belly-ache laugh, obviously knowing what was coming next. The next thing they heard was Eduardo exploding into laughter and telling the cameraman – Michael – to turn around and look at the karaoke stage. Michael laughed when the music in the bar was cut, and the sound of Mohammad and Ajit singing Suit & Tie from Justin Timberlake resounded throughout the venue. The sound of Marcel and Sofia shouting in the background, followed by the sound of smashing glass, was the end of the footage.
Michael looked at Scarlett, his face blank.
‘Allegedly, you and Marcel helped Carolina expel the entire door security team. The sound of the bottle smashing at the end of the video was Eduardo throwing his bottle of Harp, recommended by your kind sel
f, at the gambling machine for taking his money. Ajit and Mohammad were upset because you ruined their duet on stage.’ Her humorous expression dropped.
Scarlett stood up, scooped up Michael’s destroyed suit and headed for the door. ‘I spent the night watching over you. I was afraid you would have choked in your sleep.’
‘I’m sorry, Scarlett. I don’t know what else to say.’
‘You put everyone in danger last night, Michael. It would have been a lot worse if Mancini agents knew about this.’
‘Did we tell anyone?’
She smirked. ‘Well, the arresting officers thought you were all joking about going to seventeenth century Tuscany and meeting Elisabetta Sirani.’ She opened the door. ‘Go and have a shower. I’ll go get you some more clothes.’
As she closed the door behind her, Michael was left with a feeling of guilt.
After five minutes, he sent a group text. Let’s all meet at twelve. In room eighteen again.
He went for a shower to get ready for whatever was to come next.
During his shower, Scarlett had left him another navy suit that hung on the outside of the bathroom door. Once showered, he sat on his bed and stared at the suit as if it were a stranger in his room. But the suit was, in a sense, part of him and his identity, at least for a while. He had to accept this new life and make the most of it. When he stepped into that suit, he coached himself to embrace it.
Once dressed, he had about twenty minutes to kill before he had to leave. He sat at his desk and opened his laptop, checking BBC News.
He read the headline story about the UN meeting in Vienna. He found it worrying: unstable world leaders, responsible for everyone now at the mercy of Mancini Corporation and the Dark One. What the seven were tasked seemed impossible. Not just impossible but hilarious. There he was, barely able to shave without cutting himself, and he was supposed to stop the most powerful people in the world from destroying everything.
He glanced from his laptop down to his suit again, as if it had a presence. He looked to it for courage as if it had magical abilities. He truly hoped Elisabetta, if she was real, would continue to help with the rest of The Tuatha da Danann.