Dark Tidings: Ancient Magic Meets the Internet Book 1 (27 page)

It was dark when the thirty man team arrived at the house in Liverpool. It was a larger team than would be normal for this type of operation, but no one was taking any chances. They weren’t going to fail because they were under-resourced for this final step. Unusually, Jim Robinson had left the nerve centre of the headquarters building to co-ordinate the assault. This was way too important to leave in anyone else’s hands.

The men had been thoroughly briefed and every one of them knew his role inside out. Each silently took up his position around the secluded mansion. A team of six assembled at the front while another team of seven positioned themselves at the back. Simultaneously both teams burst through the doors shouting at the top of their voices. Smash. Crash. Heavy boots clattered down the hallways. Noise and commotion created confusion and fear. They charged through the ground floor fanning out and bursting into each room they came to. Their four targets were in the front room, paralysed by surprise like the proverbial rabbits caught in headlights.

Tung was the first to react, in fact, he was the only one to react. He had plenty of experience of being on the wrong end of an ambush. Without any hesitation, he darted for the window and threw himself headfirst at it. He expected it to smash and for him to perform a graceful roll outside before he rose to his feet and ran free. He expected it to be exactly the same as his spectacular escape from the three bearded men back in his day, his famous spring roll. Unfortunately, he was unaware of double glazing and its inherent strength; much stronger than wooden shutters. Welcome to the twenty-first century. His head might as well have smashed into a brick wall and that was certainly the way it felt. Here comes another mammoth headache, he thought, as he crashed ungracefully to the floor inside the room.

Robinson walked in and surveyed the scene. Two men sat stock-still while another one groaned on the floor. Faith sat, eyes closed and trembling, near the fire. Everyone was accounted for and everything seemed to be under control.

“Subdue the prisoners. Get them ready for their trip,” he ordered.

His team moved forward and secured the three men with plastic ties. Black bags over their heads completed the job. They were hauled out of the house and away to the waiting vans. Once inside their feet were bound with more plastic ties. The whole operation had taken less than five minutes.

Jim Robinson walked over to Faith. She was still traumatised even though she’d been expecting something like this. It had just been a lot more sudden and violent than she’d prepared herself for.

“Fantastic job,” he said. “You’ve done us proud and you’ll be well rewarded for this. We just need to find all Phillips’ computer gear. Oh yes, and have you seen an old bit of parchment… the old man probably had it?”

He had added the last bit as casually as he could. He was the only one on the team who understood exactly what this operation was about. Everyone else believed the priority was to capture Michael. They believed the other two were just accomplices and the girl was a relatively innocent bystander. No one else knew about the Scroll and that it was, in fact, the most important part of the mission. No one else knew about Faith and exactly what her role had been.

“Thanks. That was the most nerve-wracking thing I’ve ever done. Look at me, I’m trembling,” she said holding out her hands to demonstrate just how shaky she was.

She’d not really heard what he’d said or at least she was far too disoriented to take any notice of it. She’d certainly not heard the vital question.

“The Scroll? Have you seen a scroll?” he asked with more urgency.

“What? No sorry. I know all the computer stuff is in a room at the top of the stairs, but I haven’t seen a scroll.”

“No problem, we’ll find it,” said Robinson as he started to direct the search teams.

Within fifteen minutes they’d collected all the computer equipment, but there was still no sign of the scroll. They rummaged for a further half hour. Still no success. After another ten minutes searching, Robinson decided it was time for him to get the prisoners back to London; back to his boss. Orders are orders, and his orders were to secure the prisoners and bring them back to base.

He left four men in the house. They’d retrieve the scroll once the prisoners told them where it was hidden, and they would tell because they were about to face the most extreme interrogation, an interrogation which would break any man.

He took Faith by the arm and led her out to the black Mercedes which was parked at the front of the house. He opened the car door and helped her settle into the back seat before running round and jumping in the other side.

The Mercedes took off followed by the vans which held the bulk of the team and the three prisoners. The convoy headed for the motorway which would take them to London.

The three captives were dragged through the back entrance of the IIBE headquarters building and deposited roughly in the corridor which led to the secure teleconferencing facility. It was in the restricted area of the building. Only the most privileged employees were authorised to go there. In fact, only members of the Occultus Populous were allowed in this clandestine labyrinth which lay under the grand old building. It had been built hundreds of years earlier and was the most secret of secret places.

Robinson waited with the prisoners until he was joined by six member agents. They carried the prisoners through the heavy door which Robinson unlocked with an old iron key which never left his person. They carted them down steps, along corridors and down further steps. They took them deep underground and, when they could go no deeper, they were finally dumped into an authentic dungeon.

Tung, Madrick and Michael were still bound and hooded, but they could sense they were in a cold, damp place. Rough hands taped something to their wrists. A heavy door slammed shut, followed by a solid metallic bolt engaging. Then, all was silent.

Dark, dank, and putrid were the words an estate agent might use to glamorise this miserable dungeon. There were no words horrible or nauseating enough to describe what it was really like.

It was déjà vu all over again for Tung and Madrick. They’d been in exactly this predicament before.

“We’re in big trouble, aren’t we?” said Tung.

“Yeah, big trouble.”

“That was a rhetorical question,” snapped Tung.

“That’s not a rhetorical question. What are you talking about?”

“You told me that a rhetorical question was a question that didn’t want an answer. I didn’t want that answer.”

There was a silence because there was just no answer to that. They had a lot more to worry about than the semantics of another one of Tung’s pointless and inappropriate discussions which, like the three of them, was going nowhere.

“We shouldn’t talk,” said Michael. “They’re bound to be listening. Just remember what we agreed.”

“I remember,” said Tung. “Don’t worry, I remember.”

“Aaagh, aaagh, aaagh,” screamed Michael, Madrick and Tung.

All three men writhed in unison as a violent electric charge surged through their bodies. The immense pain emanated from whatever had been taped to their wrists.

“What the hell?”

Another surge of electricity. More screaming. The three men squirmed in agony in the dark.

Robinson reported the success of his mission to Sir Samuel Buckingham. He was proud of his work and so it seemed was his boss. He settled back in his chair and thought about the hunt and the ultimate capture of the thieves. He’d done well. He called up the Torture App on his mobile phone and changed the setting from mild to medium. That would soften up the prisoners before the next phase of their interrogation.

They had no idea how long they’d been in the cell. It seemed like an eternity although maybe it’d just been an hour, or a few minutes. They were completely disoriented. Electric shocks coursed through their bodies at random intervals, controlled by some cloud based application which monitored their vital signs and hurt them each time their bodies relaxed. Pain and torment. The ties dug deep into their limbs and the hooded darkness just intensified the suffering and fear.

Without warning, the door crashed open. Heavy boots stomped across the floor. Rough hands hauled them to their feet. The ties around their legs were cut and they were dragged out of the cell, up steps, along corridors and eventually into a warm room. The hoods were ripped off their heads and the three immediately shut their eyes tightly and turned their heads to the floor, blinded by the lights.

When he was able to focus, Michael looked up and realised they were in the teleconferencing facility. The members of the Grand Council could be seen on giant screens and a further three members were with them in the room. He recognised one of them as Sir Samuel Buckingham. This was exactly what he’d hoped for; this is what they’d heard the Council plan for them when they’d eavesdropped on their meetings.

“I know you know who we are and why you’re here,” began Buckingham. “We’re going to give you one chance, just one, to answer our questions here and now. That would be the civilised way for all concerned. Otherwise you will suffer unbearable and unimaginable pain until you give us what we want… and that will not be civilised.”

He paused for effect.

“Just to be clear, we want the Scroll and we want any records you have of our meetings. We know you were watching us. Don’t try to deceive us. We will get to the truth. And I warn you, our patience is nearly exhausted. We’ve already expended a lot of time and money to find you and we don’t plan to waste any more of either.”

This was it, their one and maybe only way out of this mess. As agreed, Michael kept quiet while Madrick caused a distraction. Nothing was to get in the way of Tung saying the spell. But, as if these people knew what was about to happen, a guard struck Tung hard on the back of the head. He crashed to the ground.

“You’ve already had a taste of what lies ahead of you. Our gentle electric shocks were designed to remind you what discomfort feels like. Now we’re going to show you what real pain is about… starting with this sorry excuse of a human being. We’re going to let you watch while we crush his head. He’ll not be able to move, or think, or talk. All he’ll be able to do is suffer. Strap him in.”

Tung was dragged to an evil looking, ancient device. A crude contraption with a metal skull cap and a screw mechanism with a large handle attached to it. His head was forced in so his chin rested on a metal bar. The screw was tightened so his head was clamped in position by the skull cap. He made distressed muttering noises, it was all he could do. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t use the Believe Me spell even though he’d already cast it in his head. Buckingham waved his arm and the guard gave the screw another quarter turn.

“Your friend is merely uncomfortable now. As we turn the screw his head will be compressed… he’ll be in agony. Eventually his teeth will shatter, then his jaw. Next his eyeballs will pop out. You can imagine what happens after that. Bang… his head explodes.”

“Stop, I can help you. If you know about us then you know my name is Madrick and I am an accomplished and respected wizard. I’ve cast spells which few wizards in the history of time could even have dreamed of. I was once the Royal Wizard, by appointment to King Mifal…”

“Enough. We’ve no interest in your history. What we want is the Scroll. Where is it?”

While he spoke he waved his arm and the guard turned the screw another quarter turn. Tung squealed through gritted teeth.

“We don’t know where the scroll is,” screamed Michael.

Buckingham raised him arm, ready to signal the guard.

“No. I mean the two of us don’t know. Only Tung knows. He’s hidden it somewhere. If you crush his head, you’ll never find the scroll.”

“Really? Well it sounds to me as if you’re volunteering for the head crusher. Release that one.”

The guard turned the screw, anti-clockwise this time. The pressure was released. Tung screamed in agony. The release was nearly as painful as the compression. He could hardly think, but he knew he had to act. Their lives depended on him. He’d said the spell when they’d forced him into the torture device. He was ready. Think. Act. Now.

“Believe me,” he said as he started his well practised speech. “You have the wrong people. We’re not time travellers or thieves. We didn’t rob you and we don’t have a scroll. We have nothing you want. The people you are looking for are dead and the Scroll has been destroyed. We won’t remember anything about your organisation or being here. You must send us home and never bother us again.”

There was a silence in the room. The members were stunned. Buckingham broke the silence.

“Oh my God, there’s been a terrible mistake. I am so sorry gentlemen. People will be punished for putting you through this dreadful ordeal.”

He summoned the agents who were outside in the corridor.

“Untie these men,” he ordered. “Immediately.”

Someone stepped forward and cut the ties on all three men.

“Show these men out. Take them to our best car and drive them to wherever they want to go. Gentlemen, again all I can say is how extremely sorry I am about our dreadful mistake. I can’t apologise enough.”

“Believe me,” said Tung. “We will hold no grudges… if you give us a wad of money before we leave.”

Michael and Madrick would’ve both been astounded by his stupidity had they not totally accepted what Tung had just said. If they’d not been enchanted, they’d have been horrified. How could he risk taking such an idiotic deviation from the plan, just as they were about to be gifted their freedom? But it was different this time, Tung had pointlessly jeopardised their escape, yet this time everyone was happy. Everyone except Jim Robinson, that is. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the three men being led out towards the exit. He hadn’t been in the room. He hadn’t heard the ‘believe me’.

“Sir Samuel, what’s going on? Why are you letting these people go?”

“They had nothing to do with our problem. We made a dreadful mistake.”

Robinson could only stand open-mouthed as he watched everyone leave. He would demand a private session with Buckingham as soon as he was available. He’d have to get to the bottom of this. This was ridiculous.

Tung, Madrick and Michael were escorted out of the building and led to a chauffeur driven limousine. The door was opened for them and they slid into the white leather lined compartment. Just before the door closed, Buckingham handed Tung a thick white envelope.

“Again I cannot apologise enough. I hope this small token of our appreciation of your understanding will help you forgive us. Goodbye, gentlemen.”

He turned and walked back into the building. Tung smiled his ‘see I told you so’ smile and tucked the envelope into his pocket without even looking to see what was in it. He thought his casualness would further rub Michael and Madrick’s noses in his little victory. He’d forgotten they were oblivious to what he had done, because they believed the story as much as Buckingham had.

After a brief conversation, the chauffer started the long drive to Liverpool while the three passengers enthusiastically explored the drinks cabinet.

“That was terrifying and weird,” said Michael.

“And damned painful,” added Tung.

“What on earth made them think we’d robbed them and what is the scroll that’s so important to them? I’m confused,” said Madrick. “I have very strange memories which don’t fit in with the picture I have of my life.”

“Oh, hold on, I know what the problem is. You guys have been affected by the spell.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Believe me,” he said. “I can help you.”

And that’s exactly what he did. He reminded them of who they were and what they’d done. He undid the lie for them.

“Oh right. Everything makes a bit more sense now.”

“Yeah, it makes sense to me too. Now I understand why everything seemed so weird.”

Back in the teleconferencing suite, Buckingham was bringing the meeting to a close. Everything was back to the way it should be and their secret organisation was safe. A new mission had been agreed for the Occultus Populous now that the hunt for the time travellers and the Scroll was over. The time travellers were dead and the Scroll had been destroyed. Now they could fully concentrate on further building their power base and wealth, and continue to strive for a one world government which they would control.

There was still work to be done to retrieve the money which had been stolen, but that was well underway. There was also a major exercise required to restore IIBE’s reputation and to stabilise the global financial system. They had agreed a plan to achieve this and collectively promised massive resources to ensure it happened quickly.

Buckingham was pleased with the outcome. Okay, they’d not retrieved the Scroll, but crucially it hadn’t been left in the hands of commoners. Mission accomplished, more or less.

He thanked the members for their dedication and, with tongue in cheek, wrapped up the meeting.

“Thank you again, gentlemen. I will see you all again in about two hundred and fifty years.”