The Second Renaissance Series Boxset

by Paul Heron

  ‘You two boys go play with your toys.’ Sofia pat Michael and Marcel on their heads. Mohammad spat his water out in fit of laughter. Ajit and Eduardo weren’t impressed after catching most of Mohammad's drink. ‘Carolina and I are going to find out what’s going on in Spain. And I guess Ajit and Eduardo will work on whatever it is they’re doing with L'amico.’

  ‘Si. Well, once we’ve changed clothes,’ Eduardo said, gawking at Mohammad. ‘Gracias, amigo.’

  ‘Everyone be ready to meet our Spanish agents – Enrique and Maria Lopez at midday. They’re very excited to meet you,’ Scarlett said. ‘Think I’ll join you two in the gym. It’s ten past ten now so we’ve got plenty of time.’

  Chapter Two

  THE TIME WAS A QUARTER past twelve, Michael and Marcel arrived at the wooden picnic table at the house's shaded porch, with nothing but swim shorts and a towel. They’d clearly taken advantage of the exquisite location they'd found themselves; Scarlett had left them to swim by themselves while she went to meet the Spanish Sirani agents, who were now patiently waiting for the two swimmers to compose themselves.

  ‘You’re just finished?’ Scarlett asked, checking her watch.

  ‘He was getting competitive,’ Michael said, pouring ice cold water over his red face.

  ‘Sorry for being late,’ Marcel said. He and Michael sat down at the table beside Eduardo. ‘Afternoon, George!’ He waved at the laptop screen where George had joined them electronically.

  ‘Enrique, Maria – meet Michael and Marcel,’ Carolina said. ‘The special ones who keep people waiting.’ She pelted them with grapes.

  ‘It also reminds me of the first time we all met. At Sir Herbert Noring library, Michael was late then, too,’ George added. ‘Maybe you should work on your punctuality.’

  ‘Hello to you, too, George,’ Michael said.

  Enrique started to laugh. ‘Okay. They're here now, no harm done. Welcome to Spain, everyone. It’s great to finally meet you.’ The Spaniard stood at the top of the table beside Maria. He removed his grey suit jacket to advertise not only the heat, but his athletic build and model good looks; shiny dark hair and oval face hidden well behind his sunglasses. Michael noticed a nasty scar on the top of his forehead where it met his fringe, perhaps a characteristic from coming across a Mancini agent or a Fomorian monster. ‘We hope our mission to get the Spanish fragment is less interesting, should we say, than the French fragment was.’

  ‘We’re both very excited to get working with you,’ Maria added. She had the same shiny black hair, strong nose and oval face as Enrique. It was obvious that they were brother and sister. ‘We've grown up within the Sirani Foundation, and since we were young, we were always told about the seven people who’d be chosen by Elisabetta and given powers from the Irish gods.’ She looked around the table at them all. ‘It’s nice to meet the secret stars to the foundation.’

  Michael prepared for Ajit to make a comment on Mohammad, who was filling his face with cheese strings.

  ‘Stop, you’re making me blush,’ Mohammad said, mouth full.

  Maria looked at Enrique and grinned.

  ‘And when George told us to prepare for your arrival in Spain, we wanted to get everything ready,’ Enrique added.

  ‘We’ve spoken with Pierre, Avril, and Nicole in France. Our French colleagues said how you seven worked so well together, so fearlessly.’ Maria looked at them all, almost star struck at these seven normal individuals – as the seven would all see themselves as: normal.

  ‘Stop. You’re making me blush,’ Eduardo said this time.

  Enrique laughed. ‘Sofia, we’re excited to help you give something back to Elisabetta.’

  ‘Gracias,’ Sofia said, pouring an espresso from the kettle-sized Moka pot. ‘But, let’s get this finished before we start thinking Elisabetta has chosen the right bunch.’ She offered the pot to Ajit seated to her right. ‘Now, do you know where the president will be today? The fragment? I know we’ve just gone through hell in France and Mexico, but I think I speak for everyone when I say we should get to work, fast.’

  Maria looked at Enrique, then Scarlett and laughed. ‘The famous Sofia Sirani. You remind me a lot of your aunt Angelina, she, too has that “Sirani” focus and mentality.’

  ‘I think Elisabetta should have chosen her to be the leader of this group,’ Michael said, grinning at Sofia.

  ‘No, thank you,’ Sofia said, sipping her espresso. ‘And I don’t like ass kissing, I am what I am. We are what we are. Let’s just get to work.’

  There was an awkward silence. Eduardo cleared his throat and pulled on his shirt collar.

  ‘What do you know about Spain and the Spanish fragment?’ Enrique looked around the table at all of them.

  ‘The basics,’ Marcel said. ‘That the French and Spanish fragments were taken by Pietro Mancini, and-’

  ‘That slime-ball killed Elisabetta over them,’ Carolina finished, ‘but, we’ll soon give her something back.’

  ‘What do you know about life in Spain?’ Maria asked. ‘You know it’s not going to be easy to travel freely? You all have wanted faces now.’

  ‘We may be wanted,’ Eduardo said, ‘but that won’t stop us. We're here to bury this organisation, and you know what? That’s exactly what we're going to do.’

  ‘It’s best we work at night, when we can,’ Ajit said. ‘Darkness can hide our faces, and L'amico can hide our technology.’

  ‘Okay,’ Enrique said, strolling around the table. ‘Spain is like France, Italy and many other countries around here: very proud of it’s cultural heritage. And art is somewhat of an important part of this beautiful country's history. Many famous artists have come from here. Diego Velasquez was a magnificent Spanish artist. During the eighteenth century we had artists like Francesco de Goya, and of course great artists from the last century, Pablo Picasso, Juan Gris, Joan Miro, and Salvador Dali.’

  ‘This is very interesting,’ Marcel said, ‘But what-’

  ‘Does it have to do with the fragment?’ Maria finished his question. ‘What it has to do with the fragment, is that art is an important part of our history and therefore it’s protected. Meaning it’s not going to be a walk in the park to get the fragment.’

  ‘Once we find out where it is, of course,’ Scarlett added. ‘And if the president declares this fragment as something priceless to the Spanish people, if he sells them the idea of it being a new form of energy that will elevate the Spanish economy – declare it as a power supply for the world, it's importance will grow to an untouchable level.’

  ‘Not easy, but not impossible. And that’s enough for us.’ Michael looked around the table at them all. ‘So, where do we start?’

  ‘From what Sofia and I have found,’ Carolina said, looking around at everyone, ‘places we could check are the museum Prado di Madrid or the museum Reino Sofia; but we think the most likely location is Valladolid where they have some magnificent Spanish sculptures.’

  ‘Great, well done, ladies,’ George said from the laptop. ‘I gotta go. We’ve had a call from Aine and Emmett. They’ve said the Department of Environmental Health have been around the cave. I’ll speak to you all later. Good luck.’ He signed off.

  ‘We’ve seen a lot of Spanish authorities around the museum Valladolid recently,’ Enrique said. ‘But, when we get our hands on the president, we’ll be sure.’

  ‘As long as this isn’t a trap to draw us closer to that museum,’ Eduardo said. ‘They aren’t stupid, far from it.’

  ‘The president is our priority,’ Marcel said. ‘We get him, give him the antidote, then we can move on from there.’

  ‘Okay, where will we find him today then?’ Ajit asked, sounding eager.

  ‘Today, he’ll be at Moncloa Palace. But we need to be very careful. Mancini Corporation is around him like “flies around shite” – is the expression used in UK? They’re for sure looking for the piece of the sculpture as much as we are.’ Enrique grabbed his laptop, shoving it into his bag.

  �
�This'll be easy!’ Marcel said. He looked at Michael. ‘We're ready.’

  Michael's phone rang. ‘It's Alban. Everyone keep quite.’ He answered. Everyone was starting to believe that when Alban was calling, the day's adventures were about to start.

  Chapter Three

  ‘ALBAN, WHERE ARE YOU?’ Michael shouted at the phone that was sat in the middle of the table, everyone staring straight at it.

  ‘Michael, once we’ve done a few things in Little Camberly, we'll be on our way back to you. Ringo and Ahmad are with me. We should arrive at the Spanish house in about three hours. Where will you be then?’

  ‘I’ll keep you posted. We're going into Madrid soon to get started. Let us know if anything changes.’ Michael hung up. ‘Okay, you all heard him. Let's make use of this time while we wait for them to get here.’

  ‘We should go to the museum Valladolid and check it out,’ Sofia said. ‘If the fragment’s anywhere it’ll be there, especially if the place is crawling with government.’

  ‘Enrique and I are meeting a journalist this afternoon,’ Maria said. ‘He's going to help. He's the political correspondent for El Pais, a local paper in Madrid. He's closely connected with the Spanish leaders.’

  ‘Great,’ Michael said, standing up. ‘We’ll come with you.’

  Enrique cleared his throat. ‘It’s safer if you wait here,’ he said. ‘We know you’re all itching to get moving, but it's dangerous out there.’

  ‘Screw that,’ Mohammad said. ‘Everyone within the Sirani Foundation is in danger, so if someone is helping us, we should at least be there to back them up.’

  ‘He's right, I’m not sitting around here all sheltered in this fancy house,’ Marcel said.

  Eduardo finished his glass of water and stood up. ‘Where you go, we go.’

  ‘Fine,’ Maria said. ‘Go and get ready.’

  ‘Don't spend three hours washing your hair.’ Mohammad messed up Marcel's hair.

  ‘Don't you be spending three hours on your beard then,’ Marcel shouted after him.

  Michael followed them. They all left for their rooms to get ready. As if knowing the day was going to be hell, and they’d somehow find solace in their rooms. This alone time was how they seemed to gather their own personal thoughts and perhaps psych themselves up. For whatever lay ahead of them.

  Chapter Four

  MICHAEL STEPPED OUT of the shower. It was as if he was standing in a health suite’s steam room; swimming through steam to get to the window, he felt as much sweat on his face as shower water. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped into his bedroom, instantly feeling fresher with the cool air hitting his skin. He stood and looked at himself in the mirror – his six-pack and chiselled chest muscles gleamed over his wet torso. He stared at himself and began to wonder if this was who he was and who he had to accept himself as. The reflection looking back at him was not the boy who wanted to change the world, but it looked like it was going to be the guy that would help save the world, from forces more powerful than any human being. He’d be the man who’d lead the way through the political world with his team of superhuman friends, fixing the mess the world’s political elite had caused.

  Sprawled across his bed was his new suit with a note attached: I hope you’ll be glad to wear a cream coloured suit this time. It’s too warm down here for dark colours – unless you’re a dumbass Mancini agent. Scarlett XxX

  He picked up the jacket. It was made of quality cotton, cashmere and had Sirani not only on the tag, but had the symbol stitched onto the cuff. He was grateful with the colour of his suit as even though it was September 9th, the coastal town of Santander, Spain was still roasting hot at well over twenty degrees.

  He checked his private Facebook page. Feeling happy to see his family safe. His father was taking time off work, following his recent trip to France, believing he’d developed amnesia as he couldn't remember a thing. Michael was glad to know they had posted photos of them packing to go on holiday – hopefully that was them going into protective custody – following Mohammad discovering the documents in France: documents that said all their families were being watched by Mancini Corporation.

  As he continued to scroll down, Michael received a text. It was Mohammad: Hurry up, Chief. Stop posing in the mirror, you’re not Marcel lol. Now move your ass, we've got the world to save!

  Michael laughed and threw on his suit. He could hear engines starting up outside. He walked to the window to check what, or who it was – his body and mind had been re-conditioned to jump at the sound of anything he wasn’t sure about. He left the room, hopeful that the day would be a good one.

  As he shut the front door, he looked around the garden, suspiciously checking everywhere to be sure he wasn’t being watched. He ran across the pebbled driveway to the blacked-out Range Rover Sport that was ticking over outside the triple door garage. He couldn't see who was in it because of the limo-style tints.

  Opening the rear driver-side door, he seen Mohammad on the back seat. ‘Got your message,’ he said, jumping into the back of the SUV. Maria was behind the wheel. In his mind he flashed back to the first time he'd met Ringo. A lot had changed since then, when they travelled from Sir Herbert Noring hall to the gallery, only moments before they’d all went to the Otherworld where Elisabetta spoke to them. ‘Put on the local radio, keep us up to speed with what’s going on in the area.’ He looked at Mohammad. ‘Where’s everyone else?’

  ‘They're travelling with Enrique in his car. Here they are now,’ Maria said, as Michael and Mohammad looked through the rear window to see Enrique creep up behind them in an identical vehicle.

  Marcel jumped in. ‘Let’s hit the road!’ he shouted, planting himself down beside Mohammad.

  ‘You’re ready, then?’ Mohammad asked. ‘Your hair's perfect enough?’

  ‘Shut up, you’re just jealous!’ Marcel put on his sunglasses then hung his suit jacket on the front passenger seat’s headrest. ‘Maria, some AC please!’

  ‘Let’s go see this journalist then,’ Michael said, mirroring Marcel with his jacket. ‘Where are we meeting him?’

  ‘A small town called Torrelavega. It’s not far from here,’ Maria. She blasted the car's air conditioning. ‘And don't worry, he’s trustworthy. He’s worked very hard, putting himself and his family in danger to gather information for us. Hopefully he will have a location on the president's whereabouts.’

  ‘We'll only need one day,’ Mohammad said, ‘and we'll be good to go!’ He fist-punched Marcel.

  ‘That's right.’ Marcel sat back in his seat, pushing his glasses up his nose, placing his head against the headrest. ‘Wake me up when we get there.’

  They took off through the estate’s remote-controlled gates.

  During the journey, Michael was overly conscious of every car and every person they past. He felt anyone, or everyone could be working with Mancini Corporation. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Elisabetta. He knew the Italian lady – and new goddess – was doing what she could to protect them from the Otherworld; fighting against the gods of darkness who’d all have a great time if they were able to come back to earth.

  Michael checked local Spanish news. Regrettably he saw that the president was planning a party or a ‘fiesta’ to introduce the Spanish people to an important find; a precious material which had been discovered hidden under the noses of the Spanish people for centuries. ‘This isn’t good,’ he said, handing his phone to Mohammad.

  ‘What is it?’ Maria asked.

  ‘Great start!’ Mohammad spoke sarcastically, ‘the president’s organising a fiesta to celebrate the discovery of the fragment...’

  ‘Let me see.’ Marcel snatched the phone. Staring at the screen, he laughed sarcastically. ‘Great, fantastic.’

  ‘If the Spanish people think this is as important as the president believes, they’ll want to see it, and it’ll be harder for us to grab,’ Michael said. ‘We need the least number of eyes on this as possible! We can’t become enemies of the people.�
�

  ‘We’re almost there,’ Maria said, pointing at a sign saying Welcome to Torrelavega. She put the windows up and continued to blast cool air through the vents. ‘We can’t have your pretty faces being seen, boys.’ She blew a kiss at the three in the back who would have preferred to keep the windows down.

  Michael called Ajit. ‘Ajit, we’re just about to arrive. Is everything okay back there?’ He turned and looked through the back window at the other Range Rover.

  ‘Apart from the heat, we're good,’ Ajit replied, while Michael put the call through the car’s sound system.

  ‘You’re from India, you should know how to deal with the heat. Stop being such a...' Mohammad was cut off. Ajit ended the call.

  After exploding into a fit of laughter, Michael called him back.

  ‘Hello?’ Ajit said, acting as if nothing had happened.

  Michael looked at Marcel and laughed. ‘Have you and Eduardo had much success with developing L’amico?’

  ‘Amigo!’ Eduardo’s overly enthusiastic voice bellowed through the phone. ‘We want to narrow down the location of which we'll be disrupting the electromagnetic spectrum; using coordinates and the Sirani Maps system. This will allow us to shut down areas to a half-mile radius. The god of technology has been very kind to us for giving us this.’

  ‘Of course, all hail god Oisin.’ Mohammad threw his hands in the air as if in mock prayer. ‘He should give us some godly social media. Like Facebook for the gods.’ He stroked his beard. ‘Michael, you should consult with your girlfriend Elisabetta, tell her to speak to him for us.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Ajit shouted. ‘Michael, we're also working to narrow down the size of the area affected during the device’s activation.’ He sounded like he was happy but not satisfied with their progress. Ajit was a perfectionist, and he would work on L'amico until they could maximise it’s potential.