Fear of the Fathers (25 page)

A harsh wind bellowed at the trees above the dugout, whistling loudly through strained branches. Below ground Stratton and Oggi sat close to the fire, drinking hot chocolate to warm their bones. The gale had blown away part of the roof, and after two hours in the biting blasts they had only just finished repairing it.

“I'm glad that's over with,” said Oggi. “Another five minutes out there and I reckon hypothermia would have set in.”

“That's a bit melodramatic isn't it,” laughed Stratton. “It was bad, but not that bad.”

“Maybe not for you, but us human beings feel the cold, you know.”

“I don't know why you're so worried, you've got plenty of natural insulation.”

Oggi snarled and sipped his drink. “I tell you what I could do with though,” he said. “And that's a nice hot bath.”

“It wouldn't go amiss,” agreed Stratton. “I expect we'd smell quite bad to anyone else.”

“‘Quite bad?'” Oggi repeated. “I bet we smell fucking awful. Three months in the wilderness without washing – we're bound to.”

Behind them Titan rose to his feet and let out a disturbed growl. Oggi and Stratton went quiet and listened intently, seeing if they could catch anything above the noise of the wind. Oggi thought he heard someone call his name.

“Did you hear that?” he said, turning to Stratton.

“I heard something, but it sounded quite a way off,” said Stratton. “The wind's blowing about so much it's hard to gauge distance. I'll take a peek out top.” He got up and raised the roof a couple of inches to get a view of the wood outside. A pair of boots were headed towards them at pace. Lifting the roof again, he caught a glimpse of a face in the shadows.

“What's going on?” asked Oggi.

“It's alright, it's only Tags,” said Stratton, and opened the roof up to let him in.

Tags stumbled his way into the dugout and Stratton locked the roof down.

“Fuck me!” said Tags. “It's a bit fucking blowy out there. I nearly got taken off my feet. I hope my bike's alright.” He sat down on the ground and rubbed his hands by the fire. “Ooh, hot chocolate,” he said, looking at Oggi's mug. “Don't mind if I do. And stick a bit of brandy in it as well, mate.”

“Of course, your worship,” said Oggi. “Anyway, what are you doing here? You only came down a few days ago, I wasn't expecting to see you quite so soon.”

“All in good time,” said Tags. “I need to warm up first.” He pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. “It's nice and cosy in here isn't it?”

“It wasn't a couple of hours ago,” said Oggi. “The roof started coming off. We've been making emergency repairs. If this weather carries on we'll be in trouble. Even if the roof stays on there's so much rain about we could get flooded.”

Oggi stirred some brandy into Tags' hot chocolate and handed it to him. “Come on then, tell us why you're here.”

Tags took a careful sip of his drink. “Ahh, lovely,” he said. “Anyway, I'm here because we seem to have acquired a problem. Somebody suspects that Stratton's alive, and what's more, they've gone and told Stella. She's in a right state.”

Oggi glanced at Stratton whose brow furrowed. Tags went on to tell them about Alonso, Cronin, and the tale of
Frater Fides
.

“What do you think then?” said Tags as he finished. “Is Alonso on the level? Do you really think Cronin is part of some conspiracy to get the box for the Catholic Church?”

Stratton leant back against his bunk and said, “It sounds feasible enough. It wouldn't surprise me if the Catholics were after the box, although I didn't realize they had any knowledge of it. It's bad news that Stella's been dragged into it though. I can't begin to imagine what's going through her head at the moment.”

“You're telling me,” said Tags. “Like I said – she's totally fucked up. To be honest, I felt so bad for her I almost told her the truth. I had to tell her about Oggi just to get her on side.”

“Are you sure no-one followed you down?” Stratton asked solicitously.

“Pretty much,” said Tags. “I would have noticed a tail. I've spent the last three months getting rid of unwanted attention.”

“Well, that's something I suppose. But I think we're going to have to get out of here, and soon,” said Stratton.

Tags finished off his drink. “In the meantime, what should I do about Stella?” he asked. “Wouldn't it be best just to come clean?”

“Maybe,” said Stratton. “Maybe not. But it looks as if we no longer have a choice – we're going to have to let her in.”

“Good,” said Tags. “I'll tell her when I get back.”

Stratton shook his head. “No, don't do that. She'll go ballistic at you. It'll be better coming straight from me.”

“But surely just seeing you alive will send her into shock,” countered Tags. “Wouldn't it be better if I softened her up a bit first?”

“No,” said Stratton. “She's already had the news from this Alonso guy. The idea's there in her mind, even if it's not been fully confirmed. Trust me, it's much better if you just bring her to me. Any other way and you'll be the one bearing the brunt of her anger, it's human nature.”

“So what do you want me to do?” asked Tags. “Bring her down here?”

“No. I think it's time Oggi and I moved on to somewhere more comfortable,” said Stratton.

Oggi mouthed a silent ‘hallelujah'.

It was 6pm and the Prime Minister's visits were over for the day. He and his entourage were back at the Adelphi where they were staying another night before they hit Manchester in the morning. Jennings and Appleby were relaxing in the suite, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet after the constant hubbub of the media circus.

“Only a few more days to go,” said Appleby.

“Thank God,” said Jennings. “It's a bloody nightmare out there. How we're expected to do our job when he's constantly straying from safety I don't know. You tell him where the boundaries are and then he totally ignores you and does what he wants. He may as well have a fucking target strapped to his chest.”

“Welcome to my world,” sniggered Appleby.

“Do you want a coffee?” asked Jennings, getting up and walking to the main table.

“Love one.”

Jennings poured two coffees and handed one to his partner. “I'll be back in a minute,” he said. “I'm just going to check my phone messages.”

In the quiet of the bathroom he dialled his voicemail. There were two messages, both from a confused and distraught Stella. He immediately rang her flat, but got the answerphone. It was the same with her mobile. He tried both again without success. A wave of guilt pulsed through his stomach and up into his chest. He put away his phone and sat down on the toilet staring glumly at the floor.

A minute later the rattle of the door handle broke his thoughts. In walked a slightly sheepish Stone, dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt, and carrying a bin bag of what looked like clothes. In his other hand was a pair of mud-stained shoes.

“Sorry Jennings,” he said. “I didn't realize you were in here. There is a lock you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Jennings. “I forgot. What happened to you? Been on a cross-country run or something.”

“Oh, what this?” he laughed. “No, I got splashed by some fucking idiot driver in Manchester. I was walking the route when this guy drives right up against the pavement and through a huge muddy puddle. I'm sure it was deliberate.”

“Some people, eh?” tutted Jennings, trying not to laugh. “What's the world coming to?”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Stone. “Anyway, I was going to grab a shower. That is if you're not busy in here.”

Jennings rose to his feet. “No. I was just making a phone call, but I'm done now. Knock yourself out.” He walked out, leaving Stone to his own devices, and noting the cut on his lip and the swelling under his left eye.

When he returned to the main suite, Davis was sitting chatting to Appleby over a coffee. His eyes were at an early stage of blackening.

“You been in the wars as well then?” said Jennings.

“Yes,” said Davis. “It's not been the best day. I was just telling Appleby about it. I take it you've seen Stone?”

“Yes,” nodded Jennings.

“Well, anyway. After he got splashed he stormed back to the car in a right old strop. I was just getting the keys out when he flung the back door open right in my nose. There was blood everywhere. It fucking hurt, I can tell you.”

“I'll bet,” said Jennings, stifling a chuckle.

Davis gulped the rest of his coffee and stood up. “Anyway, I'd better go and change this shirt. It wouldn't do walking around with bloodstains for the rest of the day.”

Jennings watched him leave and then sat down with Appleby again. “What do you make of all that?” he asked.

“I'm not sure,” said Appleby. “It all sounds a bit dubious to me. I reckon they've had a falling out and a bit of a punch up.”

“Yeah,” agreed Jennings. “That's one possibility. Whatever it is, they've certainly been up to something they shouldn't.” He sipped his coffee and gave a puzzled frown.

Marvo tossed the tagliatelle lightly and mixed it with the prawns, chilli, and garlic. Annie sat at the oak table playing with her glass of white wine. She swirled the liquid absent-mindedly, watching it swell and fall with the rhythm of her hands. She thought about her boy.

“You can drink it as well you know,” said Marvo, placing the finished pasta in the middle of the table.

Annie smiled. “Sorry, I was out there for a minute. The food smells lovely.”

“Help yourself. I'll just slice up some baguette.”

The food tasted as good as it smelt and, putting her troubles briefly aside, Annie tucked in. Although she'd had a large breakfast, the turbulent events had enervated her completely, and it felt like she hadn't eaten for days, if not weeks. She finished her plate and then dished up a second.

“I'm glad to see you haven't lost your appetite,” said Marvo.

“Good food makes you hungry,” she said, between mouthfuls. When they'd had their fill, Marvo cleared the table and set about washing up. “How's your head?” he asked.

“It's not too bad, but there's still a bit of a dull thud. I could do with some painkillers if you've got some.”

“Let me finish up here and I'll sort you out with something better.”

Five minutes later he was done. He dried his hands and sat on a chair next to Annie. “Right then,” he said. “Turn around and face me.” She did as she was told. He rubbed his hands. “Now close your eyes and relax,” he said.

Annie felt his palm against her forehead. It was unusually warm and soothing. A surge of heat flushed through her temple, and she began to see colours in her head. Deep reds and blues and greens twinkled in the dark. She found herself soaring and smiling inanely, as the physical world washed away revealing hidden dimensions. Reaching out with her mind she touched stars and supernovas, until gradually the images faded and she floated down and landed lightly back in her chair.

Marvo removed his hand. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Annie shook her head to clear the fuzz. “Yes, I'm fine,” she said. “In fact I feel great. The pain in my head's completely gone. What did you do to me?”

“Ah,” said Marvo, grinning. “That's a trade secret.”

Unable to help herself, Annie grinned back. “Go on. Tell me. It was absolutely amazing. Really beautiful. Really trippy.”

“It's something I learnt a while back – it's called Reiki. It uses energy forces to heal. It's a powerful tool to have at your disposal in my line of work. Although I doubt that most of the medical profession would agree.”

“Do you use it a lot?”

“When I need to. I mix it up with standard medicine.”

Annie picked up her wine glass and took a long sip. “What exactly do you do Marvo?” she asked. “Is this some sort of field hospital?”

“I'd say it was more of a private hospital,” he replied. “One without any records. You come here, you get better, you go – no questions asked. I even offer cosmetic surgery. Although I'm sure you wouldn't need that.”

Annie looked across at his big violet eyes and blushed. “Have you never worked at a proper hospital?”

“Of course,” he said. “But this is much more interesting. Anyway, I think that's enough questions. Let's go and see how Kamal's getting on.”

They walked through to the recovery room, where Kamal was still unconscious. Marvo checked his monitor. “Well, he seems to be stable anyway. That's good news. But maybe we ought to give him a little helping hand. I'm going to give him a blast of Reiki. You can watch if you like.”