“You’ve turned him into a werewolf?”
Major Wilson was still twisting and screaming on the operating table.
“Possibly,” Victoria replied, “If he survives, which isn’t a given at this point. We’ve not tried this on a human subject before. I can’t be sure what the result will be.”
“Can’t you give him some painkillers?”
“I’m afraid the formula is too unstable to allow us to sedate him,” Victoria replied, “It might upset the process.”
Ok, that time I knew she was lying, but I let her have it. She wanted Wilson to suffer and I couldn’t really blame her. Maybe it was vindictive of her, but on the other hand she’d done what she could to save his life.
“How long will it take?”
“It could be three or four hours of this,” Victoria replied, “It depends on how hard he tries to resist it.”
“Knowing Wilson, it could be three or four days in that case,” I muttered, “What about afterwards?”
“We’ll cut him loose. I’ll implant a locator chip in him so we’ll know where he is at all times, in case he tries anything like this again. I shouldn’t think he’ll want to, however. With that stuff flowing through him, he’ll be hunted by Section 19 and any supernaturals he comes across. If he’s got any sense he’ll lay as low as possible. Both sides will be after him.”
“Damn Victoria. That’s pretty dark.”
“You said you wanted me to save his life,” Victoria shrugged, “That’s what I’ve done. There wasn’t any other option. Besides, can’t you see a little bit of poetic justice in this?”
“I guess,” I said.
We left the observation room, but Wilson’s screams were still ringing in my ears hours later.
“I think given everything that’s happened tonight it would be best to send you home for the moment,” Victoria said, “We don’t know if Wilson was working alone and I don’t want you to be at any further risk. I’m sorry this happened. I didn’t expect Section 19 to attack like that. They normally keep their distance.”
“Wilson’s been suspended from duty. I forgot to tell you. Section 19 has a new head now. I think Wilson was on his own.”
“Interesting,” Victoria replied as we took the elevator back to the mansion, “Who have they replaced him with?”
“Someone called Moorecroft.”
“I haven’t heard of him.”
The banality of the exchange compared to the brutality of the last hour was surreal. We might as well have been discussing recent staff changes at the local supermarket.
“Nevertheless, I want you off-site for now. We’ll need to do a full security sweep. As sorry as I am that you had to go through that, I’m glad you were here.”
I gave Victoria a puzzled glance.
“How so?”
“Who else would have saved our lives, if you hadn’t been here?”
It occurred to me that, yeah, as a matter of fact I had saved everyone’s lives.
Even Major Wilson’s.
*
It was gone midnight by the time the limo pulled up outside my house. The rain had stopped, or we’d driven away from it. I hadn’t seen Alice or Vincent before I left and wasn’t sure how I felt about cutting the visit short. I could see Victoria’s point though. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Major Wilson had prepared back up.
He hadn’t, as it turned out. The whole mission had been a solo effort. I suspect he hadn’t planned to come back alive from it. He’d wanted to get some evidence against the Pryces and send it to Section 19, forcing them to act.
The house was quiet and I snuck up to bed. Before I fell asleep I reconnected my phone with the battery, switched it on. Messages from Dee asking where I was. Nothing from Kate. A message from a number I didn’t recognise.
Thanks kid. I owe you one. xx. Alice.
I grinned at the two kisses and wondered what Mum would say about me dating a teenage girl who was seventy years older than me.
Then I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Thirty: The Hacker
Some days you just know are going to be messed up from start to finish. You wake up and you can feel it in your bones. It’s in the air. You can practically taste it. This, your gut tells you, is going to be one of those days. A perfect storm of screwed up situations that conclude – at least in my case – with a brutal fight for your life.
The Sunday following my visit to the sanctuary was most definitely one of those days.
On the plus side, I did start to find out what was actually going on. So, you know. Silver linings.
Things got off to a weird start when a hacker took over my laptop claiming he or she ‘just wanted to talk’. I’d woken up and flipped my laptop open to find an email waiting titled ‘Re: Murder in Pagan Hill, spot the difference.’
Only half awake I assumed the email was from Kate or Forrest. Clicking on the attachment revealed two local newspaper photos of groups of people. One was connected to a recent music festival and the other, dated thirty years earlier, was about a vegetable growing competition. On both photos the head of a man had been circled, along with his name in the caption below. Robert Maugham. I recognised the name. It was the guy who’d been murdered on Halloween. The same guy that Kate and Forrest thought was linked to the demon hound.
Here was the odd thing though. Despite the thirty year gap between the photos of Robert, there wasn’t any sign of him ageing. In both pictures he looked mid-forties or early fifties. I was studying the two photos when my laptop went black. I was expecting a reboot message. Instead typed text appeared on my screen:
> Hello Jason, please don’t be alarmed. I’ve secured your laptop so we can talk without anyone eavesdropping.
I stared at the words for a few seconds, then pulled myself together
> Who are you? I typed back.
> An ally, came the response.
> Can you be more specific?
> I can’t. I need to protect my identity. Sorry. You can call me Sam. I’m on your side and I want to help you.
I wasn’t even aware I had a side, but I let that go.
> Why?
> Look, I don’t blame you if you don’t trust me, so please just listen to what I have to say. I’ve found out some things you need to know.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, still not following what was happening. I tried to orientate myself. Had I really knocked Major Wilson out last night? I had.
Wow.
No wonder I’d slept so deeply. That was the first night in over a week I hadn’t woken up in a cold sweat and a panic.
I shook my head, focused on the situation at hand.
> How did you take over my laptop?
> The email I sent you. It had a worm attached. Don’t worry, it’s harmless.
> Why are you talking to me?
> I’ve been keeping an eye on you since the demon hound attack. Section 19’s tech guys were fast but I caught some of the mobile phone footage people were posting. After that I saw you at Section 19 and at the Pryces’ mansion.
> You were there?
> Remote access to their camera feeds. Not in person.
> Right. What do you want?
> I just need you to listen right now. Please. As I said I’ve found some things out I think you’ll want to know. Important things.
I could have closed my laptop and walked away. I didn’t. Whoever this person was, they didn’t present any immediate threat and they might have useful information. If I didn’t like it, there was nothing to stop me ignoring them.
Was I surprised that a hacker had contacted me? After the last nine days? What do you think? No, it was just another average day in my crazy new life.
> Okay, what have you got?
The hacker - ‘Sam’ - had dug around various databases he or she shouldn’t have been digging around in. He’d looked into the identity of the dead guy and discovered via property records that ‘Robert Maugham’ had been living in Pagan Hill since
the end of the Second World War, approximately seventy years ago. Okay, so far so standard. The thing was, according to pension records, Robert had retired there in 1945. He’d lived in the same small house for seventy years. His house had also been provided by the government.
The two photos Sam had sent me indicated that Robert hadn’t aged a day in the last thirty years or more.
> So what we seem to have is some kind of immortal, or at least very slowly ageing person, living on the British Government’s bank account since World War Two.
> Okay, that is pretty weird.
I was getting more intrigued the more ‘Sam’ told me.
> Yeah, but this is where stuff gets really interesting: He isn’t the only one. There are two more like him, still alive.
> Go on.
Sam had discovered that Robert was one of three people who had been receiving the exact same pension for the last seventy years. The other two also had houses bought for them at the end of the World War Two and they still lived there. One of them was a man in High Wycombe, just outside London, the other was a woman in Christchurch on the south coast.
> How did you find all this out?
> Bank records, government servers. Some stuff from GCHQ and security services.
> How do I know you’re not just making all of this up?
> You don’t.
Fair enough.
> The other thing I managed to connect it to was an operation on Section 19’s database, referred to as Operation Blackstar. There’s nothing more than the name and date of the operation – in mid-1945 – and three names. Two men and a woman. I think those were the original names of the three immortals. I think Robert Maugham used to work for Section 19. Without the actual paper files on the operation though, it’s impossible to be sure. If they were put into an early version of the witness protection program in 1945, they would have been handed over to MI5. I haven’t been able to make a direct link though.
> Ok. Assuming any of this is true, why are you telling me all this?
> Because I think something is going on. Something big. And I think you should look into it. Section 19 are a mess right now and the Pryces are busy with their own problems.
> Why don’t you investigate this if you think it’s so important?
> I can’t. I would, but it’s complicated. That’s why I’m handing this over to you.
> That still doesn’t explain why me.
> Okay. Maybe because I figure that if I give you something now, you’ll be able to give me something later. Does that make you feel better?
Oddly enough, it did. At least there was no pretence involved.
> An information exchange? I can work with that.
> Good. Write down these names and addresses. It’s the two other immortals on the government’s pension scheme.
I made a note of the names and addresses as the hacker typed them out.
> Okay. I’m going to leave you with this for now. If I were you I’d visit one of these immortals. If you want to talk to me again, hit F9 on your laptop.
> Anything else?
> You might want to cover your webcam in future. Just saying.
My laptop rebooted and the hacker was gone.
So that was how my messed up Sunday began. Being contacted by an anonymous hacker and handed what a detective would call A Major Clue.
Not a bad start, right?
Things rapidly went downhill from there.
Chapter Thirty One: Best Friends Forever
I’d just finished that conversation when the doorbell rang. Downstairs, Mum opened the door and I heard Dee asking if I was home. I groaned.
I didn’t want to see Dee. I’d been quietly stewing over his revelations about being a bound-to-me djinn. The more I’d thought about it, the angrier – and more hurt - I’d become about his deception.
He’d admitted he was only looking out for me because he’d been forced into it. So how could I believe anything he said now?
The fact was, I didn’t know if I trusted my apparent best friend anymore.
Mum told Dee that I was at Kate’s since she hadn’t heard me come home last night. I knew I’d have to talk to Dee at some point though, so I decided I might as well do it now.
“Mum, I’m here, I didn’t stay over at Kate’s last night,” I called out, “I’ll be down in a second.”
Dee was relieved to see me.
“So you didn’t go to Avebury,” he said.
“I did, but it got cut short.”
“Why?”
“Reasons.”
Dee looked frustrated.
“I knew you’d go. You don’t understand how dangerous this is.”
“Actually I do, but I’m not going to stop looking into this.”
“Mate, you know I can’t let you do that,” Dee replied.
“Yeah, alright. Firstly, how are you going to stop me? Secondly, you’re only my ‘mate’ because you’ve got no choice, and you’re only worried about me for the same reason.”
Dee looked upset.
“That’s really not fair,” he said.
“Yeah, well, truth hurts, doesn’t it?” I shot back.
“Jayce, you have to trust me on this. Look, when have I ever lied to you?”
My jaw dropped.
“You’ve been lying to me ever since we met!”
Dee’s face fell, “Well, yeah, but apart from that.”
He tried a different approach.
“Mate, ok, look, you’re going to need me if you want to follow this up.”
“Need you for what? I’ve been in serious danger at least three times now and three times you’ve been completely bloody useless. In fact, according to you, you’re the reason I’ve got into any of this in the first place. If the demon hound was tracking you, then if you hadn’t been around none of this would have happened at all!”
“Three times?” Dee asked, “What three times? Did something happen last night?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, “It really doesn’t. If I could switch the magic off that bound you to me, I would. Then you could stop hanging around like a fifth wheel.”
It was Dee’s turn to look angry now.
“Well if that’s how you feel, all you have to do is say you don’t need me anymore, and we’re done,” he shot back. His raised voice didn’t mask his hurt.
There’s something both sad and comical about two teenage boys fighting about their friendship while trying to hold on to it at the same time. We were both red in the face, showing how angry we were but also trying to keep the high ground.
“What does that mean?”
“Shoddy spellcasting,” Dee replied, “I’m supposed to protect and watch over you ‘until you no longer need me,’ right? So it’s up to you if you want rid of me, then go ahead and say it! ‘You no longer need me.’”
Dee jutted his chin out and folded his arms, glaring at me. Daring me.
“Right,” I shouted back, “Well in that case I no longer need you!”
Dee gasped. He hadn’t expected me to go that far. It wasn’t just about breaking the spell. It was about breaking our friendship. He stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
*
I was still processing all of that when, ten minutes later, the front doorbell rang again. This time it was Kate, which was unexpected. My heart skipped a beat as she stood in the doorway, backpack slung over her shoulder. I realised the last time we’d spoken was when she’d blown-up in the library.
I’d missed her.
“Hey, Jayce,” she said. There was something unusually shy about her voice and manner.
“Hey, come in,” I said. Remembering Victoria’s line, I added, “Enter freely and of your own free will.”
“Ha, Dracula. Nice. You turned into a vampire in the meantime?”
“What? No.”
“I was joking,” Kate said.
“Right. Of course. Vampires don’t exist and, you know, uh, stuff.”
&nbs
p; Kate looked at me with a puzzled expression then shook her head.
“I saw Dee on the way here, he looked upset about something?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
There was no way I could explain all the ins and outs of what had just happened. We went into the living room, the scene of my bust up with Dee not a quarter of an hour earlier. We sat on opposite ends of the sofa.
“Sorry I’ve been off recently,” Kate began cautiously. She shifted closer to me on the sofa. Kate had been round to my place a ton of times, but this felt different. Secretive. Intimate.
My fight with Dee was already forgotten, at least temporarily.
“No problem,” I said, playing it cool.
“So, look, I wanted to talk to you.”
“You’re back together with Clark?” I guessed. It was the last thing I wanted to hear, but if it was the case I’d prefer to know now instead of getting my hopes up. Kate looked startled.
“What? God no, what on earth gave you that idea?”
“I saw you talking to him the other day.”
“Yeah, he’d borrowed some of my dad’s old vinyls when we were together. My dad was threatening to break his fingers if he didn’t get them back.”
That did indeed sound like Kate’s dad.
“Right, okay. So what brings you round?”
“Forrest and I continued looking into the murder. You know, the one that happened that night?”
“Sure.”
“We found out some more stuff. Weird stuff that doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
She pulled a folder out of her backpack and flipped through some plastic sleeves. I spotted the same photo the hacker had sent me earlier. Kate and Forrest must have found out some of the same information in the meantime. About how Robert Maugham had had an unnaturally long life before he died.
Kate hesitated before showing me the contents of the folder. She bit her lip as if debating something with herself. She’d never looked prettier than at that moment. The sun was hitting her at the right angle. Red hair glowing. Freckles she claimed to hate rolling across her cute button nose.
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