by Paul Heron
‘Let’s go tear shit up!’ Mohammad shouted, popping his head into Michael’s room. ‘Chief! Move your ass, stop posing!’
They went into Eduardo’s room to check on him before leaving. Marcel, Ajit, and Carolina were all sitting on the edge of Eduardo’s bed, chatting casually between themselves.
‘You rest,’ Mohammad said, patting Eduardo on the shoulder. He looked at Carolina. ‘And I’ll be back soon, dear,’ he reached in with his lips puckered for a kiss.
‘The cheek is fine. The lips? No.’ Carolina was quick to say.
‘That’s you told!’ Marcel teased, moving in to kiss Carolina.
‘You, too.’ Carolina turned her face as Marcel moved in.
Michael looked at Sofia, and they both smiled. Michael wished he could give her a goodbye kiss, but she was going with them, and kind of wished she was staying; that way he would have a reason to kiss her goodbye. ‘Let us know when Dr Rizzo arrives.’ Just as Michael said this, a car horn tooted from outside.
Sofia ran over to the window. ‘It’s only Scarlett. Let’s go.’ She grabbed her handbag and suit jacket. ‘Ciao,’ she said as the four left the room.
‘Take lots of photos of the football. It’s not cricket but what is,’ Ajit shouted.
Michael looked at Ajit, ‘we’ll see you all soon.’
As the four of them walked through the hallway, the sound of their hard-heeled shoes clapping off the wooden floor sent echoes around the grand entrance. Michael looked at Mohammad, Marcel then Sofia. ‘We’re wearing some clothes for a football match. We’d blend in well around politicians and Mancini agents. But at an international football game? Our faces, and clothing may kind of give us away. Don’t forget; we’re now wanted.’
‘We don’t have time for plastic surgery.’ Mohammad chuckled, slapping Marcel repeatedly on the arm as if choking on his laughter. ‘Maybe we can stop off at a supporter’s stall.’ He looked at Michael. ‘I’ve always wanted to dress up like a Leprechaun.’
‘I think we’ve all had that dream!’ Sofia said sarcastically pulling the front door open.
Scarlett was waiting in a white Freelander 2, one of the quality motors manufactured by the Land Rover group. All the windows had limousine style tints.
Michael felt confident in being hidden from public view. As he opened the passenger door, he realised Scarlett was sitting in that seat, with the steering wheel in front of her.
‘You forget we drive on the opposite side of the road in Europe?’ Scarlett laughed. ‘I’d let you drive, but you guys need some rest.’
‘I’ll drive on the way back, once the mission is complete,’ Michael said.
Marcel, Sofia, and Mohammad all strapped themselves in to the rear leather seats. Michael buckled himself in to the front passenger seat. They took off. Michael connected his phone to the car’s sound system via Bluetooth and called George.
‘George, how’s everything in Little Camberly?’ Michael had to shout over a thumping noise in the background from George's end.
‘I’m with Alban, Ringo, and Ahmad. We’re on our way to Marseille. You guys will need back up. One of our agents within Mancini Corporation has informed us that their French Director – Ms Mallory Couture – has requested extra support from the Mancini headquarters in Bologna.’
‘So they know we’re here?’ Sofia shouted.
‘There’s a good chance of that, Sofia. The French and Spanish pieces of the sculpture have been locked away for many years. Mancini agents will suspect we’ll come after those first. Throughout the generations, the people in possession of the shards began to disbelieve their magical properties and put them away. Obviously not being able to conjure anything up without knowing what to say, they simply had duds. Nothing more than a piece of stone shaped like their country.’
‘Elisabetta said that those fragments will bring the bearer unimaginable power,’ Michael said. ‘Mancini Corporation got their hands on that book. Clearly they now know the words Elisabetta used to conjure up the power from the stone.’ He rubbed his temple with the onset of a nasty headache.
Scarlett put down her window to let some fresh air into the atmospheric car.
‘Can’t we get any extra help? I mean, if we split up we can get more fragments back faster,’ Marcel said.
‘It’s only you guys; the group must stay small. Most people can’t get too close to the sculpture. Our organisation has many good agents. But we can’t risk internal corruption. If we had that, the foundation would collapse. Elisabetta has entrusted you seven to be the sculpture’s handlers. The bearers of this tremendous burden.’
‘Maybe ask Elisabetta for more of us then,’ Mohammad asked, desperate for more help.
‘Nobody can talk to her. Remember?’ Sofia said.
‘What about Archangel Michael over here,’ Marcel tapped Michael on the shoulder. ‘Can you chat to her for us?’
‘I will if I can,’ Michael said, still desperate to find out the big question, Why me?
‘We’ll be in France soon. Drive safely and take care. I’ll be in touch when we check on Eduardo.’ George ended the call.
Michael dropped his head back into the seat’s headrest. ‘I’m going to sleep.’
‘Me, too. Wake me up when this is all over!’ Mohammad shouted.
Michael closed his eyes, immediately drifting off to sleep. All he could hear was Scarlett humming, as if content with their situation.
Hell, if I knew this was what I was coming for, would I have left home? Michael tried to think he would, but he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t think anyone would have left their family behind for this. Then he stopped and thought about his family. That single word, family, still cut into his stomach like someone was prodding him with a stick. Then, still with his eyes closed his mind came back into the car, Scarlett still humming. Then he thought about that word family and remembered looking at the camera lens in the jungle. How he felt talking to the world, how terrifying that was, he reminded himself of how he felt when he knew that his other family was there with him to support him every step of the way.
Still with his eyes closed, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Scarlett to his left driving the car and Marcel, Sofia and Mohammad behind – all on this journey together. Yes, together he chanted to himself I’m glad I’m here with these guys, doing what we’re doing, screw whatever happens.
After a few more moments of listening to Scarlett humming to her playlist and strumming her fingertips off the steering wheel, Michael was drifting off with a sense of peace. Until Scarlett shouted for them to wake up.
‘Guys! Wake up!’ She shouted. ‘Wake up, now. We’ve got a problem.’
Michael’s eyes shot open. A line of traffic on the A6 towards Paris. With a police check point. ‘What are they looking for?’ Michael asked reaching into the glove box for his bottle of water.
‘I don’t know,’ Scarlett said, switching radio stations to check for any traffic updates. ‘Michael, you check your phone for anything happening in this area – France 24 is the best news – and Sofia you translate into English what’s being said on the radio.’
Michael groaned. His eyes stinging. His reactions slow. Looking at his phone, repeatedly blinking, his eyes soon came into focus. ‘OK, this is great news,’ he said sarcastically. ‘There has been an attempted terrorist attack at the Stade Velodrome this morning. According to this report, nobody was injured.’
‘Yes, the report on the radio is saying the same.’ Sofia translated. ‘Apparently, all major routes around France are on high alert. The authorities are after two vehicles: a silver Peugeot 207 and a black Renault van. Anyone who sees them should not attempt to apprehend them. They’re considered armed and extremely dangerous.’
Michael looked ahead at the checkpoint, then looked in the rear view mirror. It was no question they all looked suspicious. He saw a genuine look of concern on the face of Mohammad. ‘Mohammad,’ he said firmly. ‘Focus.’ He looked at Sofia, and then Marcel, who were also sweating,
looking out through their windows probably for a place to run. Michael looked back down at his phone again to check more news when George called.
‘Michael – can you hear me?’ George shouted, still with the thrum of the chopper in the background.
‘Yes, George we have a problem,’ Michael shouted, watching as ten cars ahead, the police were searching a blue Fiat Punto. Michael put the call through Bluetooth.
‘Yes, I know, but it was a fabricated story by Mancini Corporation. They know you’re there. You cannot be seen. Is that understood!’ George’s voice was stern. ‘Get off that road now and find a place to hide. French Sirani agents are on their way. They were just at the house in Marseille. Ajit is with them. He’s tracking you.’
‘Look! There’s a warehouse over there,’ Marcel shouted, pointing right across an untreated field with four feet high grass. ‘It looks abandoned.’
‘Okay, go there now.’ George yelled. ‘And don’t be seen. Scarlett just you drive through the checkpoint. You're lucky your face isn’t all over the TV.’
‘Fine,’ Scarlett said. ‘But when you arrive, get your asses up here too!’
Chapter Six
‘YOU LOT BE CAREFUL, you hear me?’ Scarlett said. ‘I’ll be with you soon. And keep your phones on.’
‘There was me thinking this was going to be easy,’ Marcel said, slowly opening his door, scanning everywhere.
‘Don’t think any of this was meant to be easy for us,’ Sofia said. ‘I can’t believe our luck sometimes. Michael – where is this famous luck of the Irish?’ She followed Marcel out onto the road.
‘Guess the gods took it from me; it certainly isn’t here.’ Michael gave Scarlett a peck on the cheek as he climbed into the back. ‘See you soon.’
‘Be careful.’
‘All this running can’t be good for our health.’ Mohammad complained.
Michael jumped out, behind Mohammad. He gently closed the door, then scanned the area with his eyes. The police were now checking the back of a Ford Mondeo.
Sofia led the way across the grass verge and over a four-foot-high fence.
The afternoon sun reminded Michael that the summer season had not yet said goodbye to France. He was glad that this derelict land had not seen a lawn mower for a long time, meaning they had some natural cover. He looked back at the queue of cars, like customers in a shop waiting to be served. ‘Everyone make sure your phones are on silent,’ he whispered. ‘We don’t want our cover being blown because someone decides to call us.’
After about a hundred metre sprint across the field, they reached the car park of the empty warehouse. The parking bays were worn, barely visible. The tarmac was cracked, weeds were a more common feature than the bay markings.
‘Eyes open. We don’t know this place, and we don’t need anymore complications,’ Marcel said pulling his phone from his pocket. ‘I’m calling Eduardo, see if he picks up.’
Sofia sprinted across the car park towards the corner of the building, taking cover in a smoking shelter. The others followed.
A gun shot rang out in the distance. Followed by a second, then a third. Then came the sound of screeching car tyres.
‘Well, I guess Scarlett got through okay,’ Mohammad said, breathing heavily, looking at the bottom of his left shoe. ‘Splendid!’ he roared scraping his shoe off the corner of the building. ‘Cow shit!’
Michael and Sofia laughed.
‘And there was me thinking you were the friend of the animals,’ Michael whispered, Sofia shaking her head trying to contain her laughs.
Marcel finally got through to Eduardo. He put the phone on loudspeaker. ‘Amigo?’
‘Amigo,’ Eduardo responded, sounding in better form. ‘I wish I was going to the football match tonight.’
‘You’re feeling better then?’
‘Guys!’ Sofia hissed, pointing towards a set of green doors. A huge white sign above them said reception. She made for it. The rest followed.
‘I’m feeling much better,’ Eduardo said. ‘Dr Rizzo gave me something. He said it was something to do with the drug Mancini agents gave me in the jungle.’
‘I’m glad. Listen – just to let you know we have a problem. So, you know, watch this space.’ Marcel said, following Sofia’s lead.
‘When don’t we have a problem.’ Eduardo laughed.
‘I know.’ Marcel sniggered. ‘We'll speak to you soon.’
‘Oh my god!’ Sofia stopped in her tracks, staring through a dusty window. The rusty frame and flaking paint meant the warehouse hadn’t been taken seriously for a long time. She wiped away some dust with the sleeve of her jacket and gave a closer look.
‘What is it?’ Mohammad asked.
The three surrounded her like a pack of defensive Lions.
‘I don’t like the look of that chair,’ Mohammad said, looking at Michael. ‘Its a torture chamber,’
‘Yes, but who’s?’ Marcel said.
Everyone jumped as Michael’s phone buzzed. ‘Bet it’s Scarlett.’ Michael yanked the phone from his trouser pocket. ‘It is... Scarlett, are you okay?’
‘I am now. I’ve had to ditch the car. I’m coming back to you by foot. Mancini agents were at the check point. The police searching the cars were Fomorians in disguise!’
Michael looked at the rest. ‘Okay, get here safely.’ He hung up. ‘We gotta get outta here. Scarlett’s ditched the car. Mancini agents were at the check point. The police were Fomorians.’
‘Great.’ Sofia said, rolling her eyes. ‘I’m going in to have a look.’
‘Let’s go,’ Marcel said. ‘I like this new fearless Sofia. She’s kind of sexy.’ He smiled at her with his sunglasses around the tip of his nose.
‘In your dreams, handsome. Don't let Carolina hear you say that, she’ll kick your ass.’ She pulled one of the reception doors open and entered. Michael was last in. The torture room was immediately to the left as they entered the dreary building. Located beside female toilets and a cleaning store that were both padlocked.
They entered the torture room. A horrible smell lingered. A wooden chair – with leather straps on the legs and arm rests – was the main attraction in the middle of the room.
‘I wouldn’t like to end my life’s journey here,’ Mohammad said, walking across the room towards a desk in the corner.
‘Me neither,’ Michael said, looking at the chair, his overactive imagination picturing poor souls tortured. ‘What’s with your face?’ He shouted as Marcel rolled over a needle with his foot. He looked up at Michael and swallowed hard.
‘Probably to get people to talk,’ Sofia said.
Michael grunted. ‘Or test a drug from a certain tree.’ There was no sign of blood or weapons. So painful torture looked like it was replaced by a needle.
‘I don’t think it’s coincidental Mancini agents were right outside,’ Marcel said. ‘This could be where the French branch of the group take people.’
‘It’s not a coincidence,’ Mohammad said, staring into the desk's top drawer. ‘Look.’
The other three joined him.
There were profiles on all of them. They all lifted their own.
Michael opened his pack: Michael Patrick O’Hagan and his photo sprawled across the front. He scanned the opening page, noticing references to an unusual relationship between him and Elisabetta. The document talked about her being an untold Goddess of Creation who would rule the Otherworld one day; Michael would play a pivotal role in the Goddess of Creation taking her throne. The document detailed the history of Irish mythology. Explored how an Italian lady came by mistake to the house of the Dark One and stumbled across a way to... It ended there.
‘Shit!’ Mohammad shouted. ‘Our families are in danger, they’ve got information on them. I have to contact Pakistan.’ He whipped his phone from his pocket and ran outside.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Michael shouted, running after him. ‘Don’t make the same mistake I did.’ He grabbed Mohammad’s phone.
‘They can’t tr
ack our phones, remember, dumb ass!’ Mohammad became aggressive, trying to get his phone back.
‘I know, but they can monitor your family's. Dumb ass!’
‘I’m calling George,’ Marcel said as he and Sofia watched Mohammad wrestle with Michael.
Michael pushed Mohammad away. Mohammad whistled, causing three pigeons to swoop down from the roof of the warehouse and crap all over Michael.
‘What are you doing?’ Michael then whistled causing the same birds to circle and crap all over Mohammad.
‘Did you forget Michael could do that, too? Einstein!’ Marcel exploded into laughter.
Michael laughed. Then Mohammad laughed.
Sofia bit her lip to stop from laughing, shaking her head. ‘Get back inside,’ she whispered. ‘What if we're being watched!’
‘George,’ Marcel put the call on loudspeaker. ‘We’ve discovered a torture room used by Mancini agents.’
‘Where?’ George asked.
‘Just where that check point is...’
Before Marcel had a chance to say another word, Mohammad snatched the phone from him. ‘George, you need to get help to our families.’ Mohammad wiped bird crap from his face with the sleeve of his jacket. ‘We’ve found some documents. Including details of our families.’
‘Okay, don’t panic. Your families have been watched since last Friday anyway,’ George said reassuringly. ‘Ringo – contact Domenico, tell him their families need to go into protective custody. Immediately!’
Mohammad listened to George giving Ringo the orders. ‘Thanks, George.’ Mohammad smiled at Michael, and then the rest.
‘Keep calm and stay safe. And keep your locations set on your phones so we can track you.’ George signed off.