The Ghost Roads (Ring of Five) (6 page)

“This is fun, what?” she said as an updraft caught her wings and sent her spiraling off into the storm again. Danny thought he could hear Gabriel sigh before they too were taken wind.

Dawn was showing in the east when they finally flew clear of the storm, exhausted and bedraggled. In the distance they could see the glow of a city and, far to the north, headlights moving on a great road. Below them was an anonymous cluster of buildings that would have
looked like a medium-sized factory were it not for the watchtowers, the spotlights, and the barbed-wire fencing that surrounded it.

“Kilrootford,” Danny said, “that’s where we’re going.”

“I’ll bring you in from the north,” Gabriel said. “There’s some cover in those small hills over there.”

As they glided in, Danny scanned the defenses in front of them. Two rows of barbed wire and a guardhouse at the entrance. A car pulled up. The driver showed identification; then the car was thoroughly searched.

How was Danny to get in? And once he was in, how did he get Agent Pearl out?

Gabriel glided to a halt in the middle of a copse of small trees at the top of the hill. A moment later Daisy landed. Nala got off her back and looked around suspiciously. There was an old stone building farther down the hill.

“We can use that as a base,” Danny said. “Whatever happens, we’ll have to wait for nightfall to get into Kilrootford.”

They walked down to the building, which proved to be a locked holiday cottage. Nala had it open in seconds. The cottage was cozy, and there were tins of food in a larder. Nala curled up on a sofa and instantly fell asleep.

“You two need to rest,” Danny said to the Messengers.

“No,” Gabriel said, looking at the sky. “The weather has changed, there’s a bit of low cloud we can use for cover. We’d better get back.”

Daisy nodded agreement. “A bit of excitement is all very well, but you do start to miss your own things after a while.” She looked thoughtfully down at the sleeping Nala. “He never flinched through the whole storm, used his weight to keep me balanced.”

“He’s a Cherb, Daisy,” Gabriel said sadly. “The only reason he kept you balanced was to save his own skin.”

“Perhaps,” she said. Danny followed them outside.

“Thank you,” he said.

“I wonder if you’ll thank me at the end of this.” Gabriel put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself, my boy.”

“And take care of the Cherb,” Daisy said sternly. “Even if you are using him rather than being his friend, he has put his trust in you, and that is a bond you must not break.”

Trust? A bond? Danny thought wearily as he watched them take to the air. What did those words mean? People threw them about without thinking.

He went back into the house. He sat down on a chair opposite the sleeping Nala and reached for the television remote control.

The news came on. The prime minister was onscreen. Danny’s tired eyes barely registered him. Then he sat up. Directly behind the prime minister was a familiar face, looking sad and concerned. Ambrose Longford! Danny turned up the volume.

“… there have been rumors and incidents of actual sabotage. We suspect that the terrorist group responsible
is being sponsored by a foreign power, and we will regard another attack as an act of war.”

The screen showed images of burning oil refineries, sinking ships, a town center devastated by bombing and people weeping. Danny’s mind raced. What was Longford up to? Over images of soldiers deploying on the streets of small towns and of warships at sea, the prime minister announced a national curfew.

“Citizens are urged to report any suspicious activity. Foreign agents are active in our cities and countryside.” Behind him Longford nodded sagely.

Forget about all that, Danny thought. Look after yourself and your own!

A
s dawn broke over the deserted airbase, the tired controller took off his headset.

“There,” he said tiredly. “Two foreign objects landed close to the base and took off an hour later. That’s all I can do.”

Conal, the chief of the Seraphim, evil brothers to the Messengers of Wilsons, nodded to his companion. Rufus Ness, general of the Cherbs, nodded back. They were both members of the Ring of Five and needed no further communication. The Cherb’s strong hands circled the controller’s neck. His death was swift and silent.

“It’s the boy,” Conal said, “of course it is.”

“Yes,” Ness said, “but how do we get him to use his power in our interest?”

“It doesn’t matter whose side he uses it on as long as he uses it. It doesn’t matter to us which puny band of humans believes themselves to be in charge, as long as the Ring of Five are in control of them. That fool of a prime minister tells Longford everything and accepts all the advice he is given. The Fifth will give us enough to push things over the edge.”

“How do we do that?” Ness said. “How do we make him use his power?”

“We are already halfway there. The agent the boy thought was his father, the bait in our trap, has been killed by a renegade Cherb, according to my sources in Wilsons. The boy doesn’t have the strength to control the power of the Fifth. Sooner or later something will tip him over the edge, and his power will wreak untold devastation. Plans are already under way to connect him to a hostile foreign nation. If the Fifth will not join us, he must be made to work in other ways.”

Conal and Ness went outside. A high-powered car awaited them. They drove off into the dawn light. Behind them, unheeded on the computer screen, the green lights representing the two Messengers continued on their way. The mysterious third point of light had disappeared.

N
urse Flanagan looked across the table at the sleeping man. She had bumped into him, ostensibly by accident, at a gala film screening earlier that evening. Nurse Flanagan knew how to make a man interested in her, and this man had invited her back to his lavish apartment for dinner.
It was, she had to admit, very impressive. She was well briefed. She knew that the man—the head of intelligence of a foreign power—was known for his corruption, but she hadn’t realized just how wealthy he had become.

Before she could act, she’d had to wait until he had dismissed the cook, the serving staff and finally the butler. Her quarry had drunk a lot of expensive wine and had begun to flirt with her, but Nurse Flanagan had been in the spy business for a very long time, and she knew a subtle and cruel operator when she saw one. It was very late before she could open the secret compartment in her ring and tip the white powder into his wineglass. It took ten minutes for the sedative to render him unconscious. Then she set to work.

She removed a set of plastic sheets from her handbag and applied them to various surfaces around the apartment: door handles, tables, the undersides of chairs, windowsills. She left them there for a few minutes, then carefully removed them and put them back in her bag. She then took a sealed package from her pocket. She went to the freezer in the kitchen and concealed the package in the very back, under a packet of frozen shrimp.

Satisfied with her evening’s work, she touched her glossy red lips with her fingertips, then placed her fingers on the man’s forehead. She would never see him again. She put on her coat and pulled down her hat. The security cameras in the lobby of the building would show only a woman slipping out the front door and disappearing into the awakening city.

BLOCK X

D
anny slept fitfully for several hours. When he awoke, Nala was sitting at the front window gazing intently at the installation below them.

“No way in,” he said shortly.

“After dark …,” Danny began, but Nala cut across him.

“Trip wires. Body-heat sensors. Infrared detectors. We try, we die.”

“We’re going to try anyway,” Danny said roughly. Nala shrugged again, as if to say it was all the same to him.

“I’m going to find something to eat,” Danny said.

I
n the prime minister’s country residence, Ambrose Longford drained the last of his morning coffee and brushed a few crumbs from his lap, then checked his watch. It was time. He rang a bell on the table beside him and a secretary entered: an elegant woman with bright red lipstick and a swaying walk. There was little sign of the fur-draped seductress who had left a man drugged and sleeping in his apartment the night before.

“Perhaps you would telephone Kilrootford, Nurse Flanagan,” Longford said. “It’s time to send them out. And tell the squad to deal with Agent Pearl in two hours’ time. It’s important that the timing be right.”

“Of course,” Nurse Flanagan said.

“I presume your night’s work was satisfactory? It was well within your capabilities.”

Nurse Flanagan smiled and executed a mock curtsey, then closed the doors behind her. She lifted the telephone and dialed the number carefully. There were no phones in the Lower World, so she was still getting used to the concept.

“Hello,” she said into the receiver, “this is Professor Longford’s office. Please activate the patrol. And begin the proceedings in relation to the prisoner. We expect them to be completed in two hours’ time, but ensure that the events are synchronized.”

Longford checked the coffeepot and poured the last cupful. He put another log on the fire, then leaned back in his chair, savoring the exquisite sensation of watching a plot long-hatched coming to fruition.

I
n the woods behind the holiday cottage the patrol moved quickly in absolute silence. They were masked, wearing full body armor and carrying silenced machine guns, although they knew that one of the targets was to be taken alive. The four men and two women moved as a single machine. They were the elite, and they did not contemplate failure.

Danny had found a few tins of sardines and some dried biscuits. It wasn’t a combination he would normally go for, but he was starving, and it tasted good, if rather odd. He found a metal tray and carried some of the food in to Nala, who looked up in surprise. He obviously hadn’t expected Danny to share.

Outside, the elite squad moved to the front and rear exits of the house. At a signal from the leader the kitchen window was smashed and a stun grenade hurled in. Danny whirled, half deafened by the explosion. Nala dropped to his hunkers as the house doors burst open and the room filled with yelling figures in ski masks.

“Down! Down! Down!”

Rough hands grabbed Danny and forced him to the floor. He managed to turn his head. Nala had dived behind the sofa. He stuck a foot out, tripping one of the squad and hitting him on the head with a glass lamp. The man groaned and lay still. Nala grabbed the man’s gun and opened fire. Another attacker went down, bleeding from the legs. One of the squad aimed his gun.

“No!” Danny tried to squirm out from under the
man who held him, but the grip was strong. In slow motion Danny saw the trigger finger tighten. Flame blazed from the muzzle. Nala took the shot full in the chest, the power of the round lifting him off his feet and flinging him against the back wall. He fell to the ground, convulsed once and was still.

It had happened again. Everyone who got close to Danny or became his ally was taken away. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears, and a red mist formed over his eyes. The power was rising in him, the power of the Fifth, against which none could stand. He would destroy them all this time. They would never take anything from him again. The power kept rising in him.… He would let it build this time, to maximize the destruction.