The Phoenix Series Books 10-12 (The Phoenix Series Box Set)

by Ted Tayler

  Artemis blushed, and Rusty smiled.

  “Touché,” he added.

  Athena concluded the meeting and she and Phoenix returned to their apartment. Maria Elena sat, cuddling Hope. Their daughter’s cold had run its course, but she played on her recent illness. After several days, where her parents had cared for her more often than their usual work schedule allowed, Hope had realised things were back to normal today.

  “Oh, dear, are we having a relapse?” asked Athena.

  “I think not,” said Maria Elena, “her temperature is back to normal, her appetite is fine. It’s just that she missed you.”

  “We were only away for three hours?” scoffed Phoenix. Maria Elena stood and handed him her charge. Phoenix gathered his daughter in his arms; Hope clung to him like a limpet.

  “You remind me of an advert I used to see on TV,” he told Hope, as he stared at her cheeky face. “When you grow up, you’re going to be a proper little madam.”

  Hope didn’t have a clue what he meant, but it felt good to have her father’s arms around her. Something told her everything would not stay the same here much longer.

  “I wish we could stay here with you all day,” Phoenix told her, “we have to get lunch and get work done this afternoon.”

  “She won’t want to hear we’re driving up to Birmingham in the morning either,” sighed Athena.

  “Sorry, Maria Elena,” said Phoenix, “that will mean another early start for you. I hoped Les Biggar might ferry us to and from this Olympus meeting. He’s otherwise engaged.”

  “I don’t mind,” said Maria Elena, “Giles is on a late shift today. He’ll be returning to our apartment at six, so the bed will still be warm.”

  “Early mornings in the first week of January can be hard for everyone,” laughed Athena. “It was no bed of roses last year when we had sleepless nights with this tiny tot.”

  Athena ruffled the hair on her daughter’s head. Hope had stopped clinging now and half-turned so she was able to watch and listen as her nanny talked with her mother.

  “She doesn’t miss much, does she?” said Phoenix, “every conversation we have, she takes in every word. I reckon she understands a damn sight more than we give her credit for, despite her only being a year old.”

  “I’ll get that lunch started,” said Maria Elena.

  Phoenix handed Hope to her mother.

  “Fair’s fair,” he said, “give your mother a big hug for a while. Then we’ll think of something we can do together on Thursday or Friday. Perhaps, a drive into Bath to visit the shops? There’s bound to be sales campaigns on offer to tempt us to buy clothes or toys we don’t need. What do you say?”

  If it keeps you both out of danger, it works for me, thought Hope, as she laid her head on her mother’s shoulder.

  *****

  Wednesday, 7th January 2015

  The insistent alarm clock had both Phoenix and Athena out of bed before half-past six. They were on the road towards Bath and onwards to the motorway system before seven-thirty. Phoenix drove them. Athena didn’t mention the near-side wing mirror appeared to be out of alignment. Phoenix wondered if he could remember to tell the transport chief to adjust the replacement when they returned home later tonight.

  The meeting room suite on level one of the Library of Birmingham in Broad Street offered four high-spec, flexible meeting rooms, including rooms suitable for up to seventy delegates. The meeting rooms benefited from natural daylight and views over Centenary Square. There was nothing to complain of for any of the Olympians. As they arrived for a prompt ten o’clock start, they saw the facilities were ideal for their needs.

  As usual, Zeus and Hera were there before the others appeared. They had travelled up yesterday afternoon from their home set in the rolling countryside. The Eliot family had occupied Barley Mill in Kent for centuries.

  Duncan and his wife Celia may have been in their late sixties, but they remained on high alert and extremely active. Zeus had organised the agents on duty to make sure they swept the room for bugs; or anything that interrupted the flow of planned proceedings. He didn’t need to remind them to check for things that went bang or recording devices that would allow their enemies to eavesdrop on Olympus business.

  Hera had liaised with the venue staff to have refreshments delivered before the meeting began. Once the doors closed behind the last arrival, no one entered or left until Zeus gave the word that business had concluded.

  Phoenix and Athena still sought a spare spot in the car park when Ambrosia burst into the meeting room. Piya Adani, the pocket-rocket from Leeds was on a mission. She had called her lover, Hugh Fraser before she drove south. Hugh wasn’t best pleased to be awake at such an ungodly hour, but Piya was unapologetic. She reminded Hugh his bosses in the manor house would already be wide awake and preparing to travel to the Midlands.

  “Today’s the day I make a big push to elevate my standing in the Olympus hierarchy,” she had reminded him, “you should wish me luck.”

  “If I’ve learned anything since you came into my life,” Hugh replied, “it’s that you don’t rely on luck. Force of will usually gets you what you want.”

  “I don’t recall having to force you to make love, darling,” Ambrosia had replied.

  Hugh Fraser was coming around to the idea he had succumbed like a lamb to the slaughter. He was sure she was using him, but he didn’t want to spoil the party. Life with Ambrosia was never dull, and when she discarded her crusading shield to reveal her more romantic side, Hugh was happy to go along for the ride.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Ambrosia, as Hugh realised he could have used a better phrase to describe matters.

  “Nothing, sorry,” he replied, “I stifled a yawn. I had a late night. Athena asked for an update on the Irregulars numbers. She wanted to take details with her today on any recruits we could put into the field. Phoenix uncovered another can of worms in the countryside on his latest fact-finding trip.”

  “I hope to have something to bring to bear on Phoenix and how prized he is within the Olympus hierarchy,” muttered Ambrosia.

  “Tread with care, my love,” said Hugh, “they are a powerful couple. Take on one, and you take on both.”

  “Don’t worry, Hugh, I know what I’m doing. Before I go, can you tell me what figures you passed to Athena? It will not harm my cause if I can inform Hera before the meeting. She will have ample time to frame the proper response. I shall suggest that the numbers are too few and the proposed locations misjudged. It will help chip away at the formidable foundations they have built around their reputations.”

  As Ambrosia arrived, Hera was checking the name cards on the main table to see that the Olympians sat where she and Zeus wished. Her husband sat at the head of the table, with her on his left-hand side. Ambrosia was to sit next to her. Hera paused as she reached the chair, Heracles occupied at the last meeting in Curzon Street. That position lay vacant on this occasion. Once his replacement was named, she would complete the blank cards. A new male God would take the chair next to Aphrodite. Her great friend, Elizabeth, the Duchess of Lochalsh, had missed this meeting. Hera wondered how long it might take to recover from a broken heart. None of them had ever dreamed what a black-hearted rogue Heracles had been. Only three months ago they had danced the night away at the Dorchester to celebrate the couple’s wedding.

  “Ah, there you are, Hera, it’s good to see you.”

  The elderly lady was surprised at the speed with which the latest arrival crossed the room. She found herself hugged and kissed on both cheeks as Ambrosia struck the meeting room in a whirlwind. Without a pause for breath, the newcomer told her everything Hugh had passed on concerning the Irregulars. She added none too subtle hints it was too little, too late.

  “Yes, dear, I’m sure you’re right,” Hera said, hoping to get away from her for a while. She still had the other cards to double-check.

  Zeus noticed his wife was flustered and crossed the room to rescue her. The door opened and in strode Apo
llo and Dionysus.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” said Zeus, “did you have a good journey?”

  Dionysus, the retired civil servant, put a hand on Apollo’s shoulder.

  “Thanks to this fellow,” he said, “we came up from London together.”

  “I was up in London for two days,” Apollo explained. The former world boxing champion had a considerable property portfolio, and although he lived in Salisbury, he often travelled to the capital on business.

  “I don’t want the news to get out,” said Sir Malcolm Dunseith, “but I made one of my infrequent visits to the House of Lords yesterday. My wife entertained most of the members of the Women’s Institute from Moreton-in-Marsh, where we live. Westminster is a place of sanctuary for me on such occasions. I can’t bear the Grange being full of the ‘Jam and Jerusalem’ brigade.”

  “You’ll never know whether they kept their clothes on throughout the day, Dionysus,” laughed Apollo.

  “How’s Louise now?” asked Hera.

  Zeus gave his wife a stare. The poor chap didn’t need reminding how drunk she’d been that night at the Dorchester. The memory of her sliding off her chair and disappearing under the table would stay with him forever.

  “Much the same,” replied Sir Malcolm.

  Hera and Zeus shared a glance. Surely, he hadn’t meant that sobriety and Louise had been strangers since October?

  The door opened again, and their last four visitors entered. Achilles was deep in conversation with Athena. Behind them, Phoenix was getting on famously with Daedalus. It shouldn’t have come as any great surprise. Phoenix had realised that night at the Dorchester that Daedalus had increased his good friend count to eleven.

  “Good,” said Zeus, “everyone’s here. We can get started on time.”

  “We should raise a glass to absent friends,” said Phoenix, as he poured glasses of orange squash for himself and Athena at the refreshment table.

  “I hope Elizabeth is alright,” said Hera, “what a terrible thing to happen. She was so happy.”

  “She’s stronger than most,” said Apollo. “I don’t think it will be too long before she returns to the fold.”

  “The sooner we get the matter of the new Olympians decided, the better,” said Zeus. “I wish to erase the memory of Heracles as soon as possible.”

  “I see you left a gap for a new person between Ambrosia and Aphrodite,” said Athena. “We carried out our due diligence on the candidates proposed last time. We recommend Raymond Ferreira becomes Chronos with immediate effect.”

  “Very wise,” said Daedalus, “and very British,” it was clear the move amused the French inventor.

  “He’s the best male candidate by far,” said Athena, “why do you find his elevation amusing, Daedalus?”

  “You misunderstand me, Athena. Heracles and Aphrodite represented the same generation. Their doomed relationship began around a table such as this at an Olympus meeting. Given her present situation, a young man in his early thirties would be of little interest. In France, a cultured, older woman such as the Duchess might see Chronos as a challenge. Another example of how different our two nations are.”

  “Tell Zeus how you got here today, Daedalus,” said Phoenix.

  “Achilles drove across from Brecon and picked me up from our home in Monmouth. I told you when we walked from the car park.”

  “I think I’m safe, Phoenix,” laughed Achilles, “his Gallic charm is wasted on me.”

  Athena sat on the right-hand side of their leader, Zeus. Phoenix had automatically taken the chair next to her. Because of their new friendship, Daedalus was his companion. Opposite them sat Apollo, who had found himself seated next to Aphrodite at recent meetings.

  Dionysus had gravitated to the end of the table opposite Zeus. It didn’t represent seniority, but he became the longest-serving Olympian after Erebus’s murder. Ludovic Tremayne, the director of various oil and gas exploration companies, was happy to move to sit next to the former Private Secretary.

  “Who did we decide should be the right person for the vacant chair?” asked Achilles, indicating the gap between himself and Daedalus.

  “Lily Chan passed our checks,” Athena confirmed, “we recommend she becomes Hebe.”

  “The goddess of youth and the cupbearer for the Gods,” said Achilles. “She’s married, with two children, am I correct?”

  “You are, Achilles,” said Phoenix, “we should remember that the names from which Erebus selected the Olympians alter ego took no account of the relationships that existed in myth.”

  “Hebe was our daughter,” said Hera.

  “She married Heracles,” added Zeus.

  “Hebe served up nectar and ambrosia to the Gods,” said Phoenix, with a smile towards the ambitious woman glaring in his direction. “It’s only a name to protect her identity from the outside world. I think it’s perfect. Have we agreed Lily Chan fills the twelfth and final chair?”

  There were no objections. Ambrosia had to bite her tongue; she could bide her time. Phoenix may have won that round. She saw how the Olympians were now seated around the table; the battle lines were in place.

  The fight had many rounds left yet.

  CHAPTER 3

  The weather outside the conference room windows was more changeable now. Dark clouds scudded across the sky, driven by strengthening winds. Hera switched on the lights. Nobody passed a comment.

  The atmosphere around the table was full with as much menace as the skies above. Zeus moved to the next item on his list. He was keen not to let this mood fester. Although only nine Olympians were present, they had regained the necessary twelve he and Erebus agreed at the initial meeting to establish the Olympus Project.

  The balance of seven men to five women when they next met in London was more acceptable. Hera and Athena had their allies in Ambrosia and Aphrodite. Hebe was her own woman. Which of the female factions she aligned with would emerge over the coming months. Who knew? She may even be attracted to the older Olympians, those with wisdom gained through experience.

  Phoenix had his allies. Apollo and Daedalus stood in his camp, but Achilles and Dionysus were more inclined to stick with their more moderate leader. Chronos was an unknown quantity. He was so much younger, less than half of Zeus’s age.

  Zeus presented the latest financial statement. It wasn’t pleasant reading compared to last October, following the Heracles debacle: -

  “Sir James received a message in prison; his association with the Project ends with immediate effect. Secrecy is paramount. Whatever happens, when the case comes to court, there must be no mention of Olympus or his contributions to the fighting fund.”

  “Did you stress the penalty for an unwise comment?” asked Dionysus.

  “I had to be very careful with my wording,” said Zeus, “but he’s aware that even inside a high-security prison, we can reach him. I’ve taken the precaution of having one of our agents infiltrate the defence team. One whisper of Sir James trying to squirm out of this by making a deal that involves revealing the truth behind the Olympus Project will mean he will die.”

  “I suggest we never mention this matter again,” said Athena, “especially once Aphrodite returns. She’s suffered enough.”

  “Agreed,” said Zeus. “If we must take drastic action we’ll ensure it looks like a violent prisoner going rogue. Heracles will appear to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Is that acceptable to everyone?”

  Once again, there were no dissenting voices.

  Losing new monies from the Grant-Mitchell coffers would leave a large hole. Whatever Chronos and Hebe contributed, it fell well short of the sums Heracles provided in the past. As the others studied the numbers Zeus submitted, Ambrosia seized her chance.

  “I will be more than happy to increase my contribution,” she said. “Our cause is, we cannot allow one setback to divert us from our mission. I’m sure the rest of you will match whatever I can bring to the table?”

  “We have been doing that for
much longer than you, Ambrosia,” Zeus reminded her. “However, Hera and I will look at how much more we can offer.”

  “There is one among us whose financial input seems lacking,” said Ambrosia. “I have studied the figures since 2007 and can’t find anything attributed to you, Phoenix?”

  Zeus glanced at his wife. She must have given Ambrosia access to this level of detail. He recalled Ambrosia calling into their home before Christmas to deliver cards and gifts. While he worked in his study, the two women disappeared for a few hours. He hadn’t realised that this had been the real reason behind the visit. Hera said nothing.

  Athena was livid. Phoenix saw she was ready to explode. He laid a hand on his wife’s arm to persuade her to calm her rage. An angry reaction was what this little minx hoped to achieve.

  Apollo spoke first.

  “Ambrosia, you are still wet behind the ears as an Olympian,” he cautioned. “Erebus introduced Phoenix to Olympus only four years ago. The world believes the man he was before that day, is dead. His fortune is in bank accounts in Switzerland and the Cayman Islands until seven years have elapsed. The money can then transfer in full into Olympus funds. Phoenix promised his mentor Erebus that he worked with the Project for as long as he was able. There has never been a question of how committed he is to our cause.”

  Zeus saw this admonishment struck home. But he felt deceived by the devious manner by which Ambrosia uncovered what she believed to be a stain against the character of an Olympian who opposed her. There had always been power struggles among the Olympians, with the different factions vying for control.

  It was apparent Ambrosia held ambitions for the top job. He and Hera couldn’t continue forever. Athena was the next leader-in-waiting. When she and Phoenix combined, Erebus often spoke to Zeus of the strengths they brought to the table once the older couple stepped aside. Zeus wasn’t ready to give up control just yet. He must make Hera realise he wouldn’t stand by while she Ambrosia manipulated her into promoting the chances of her being his successor.