Dark Tidings: Ancient Magic Meets the Internet Book 1 (20 page)

The members of the Council gathered at the designated locations at the precise pre-arranged hour. This was undoubtedly the most important gathering there had ever been in modern history.

Many of them were described as ‘the great and the good’ but they were in fact the greedy and the bad. Their relentless publicity machines ensured that the world saw them in a completely different light.

Samuel Buckingham took the lead because he was the Chairman of the Council and he was Great Grand Master of the Occultus Populous. On top of that, he’d convened the meeting.

“We are gathered together on this momentous occasion to fulfil the destiny of our Society. Our mission, set for us over a thousand years ago, was to track down a pair of renegade time travellers who had stolen the most precious and important of all the spell scrolls. We now believe those thieves have at last arrived and we are therefore about to complete our mission.”

Buckingham had expected forty-seven pairs of eyes to watch him deliver his opening speech. He’d expected to be heard by forty-seven pairs of ears. He was wrong. Three unexpected sets of eyes and ears were taking in the spectacle.

Michael, Madrick and Tung clustered around the giant TV and watched the world’s great men discuss the travellers or, to personalise it, discuss them. It was a little bit frightening, but also quite exciting to think that they were the centre of attention for some of the world’s most important people.

“They formed this secret society just to catch us?” said Tung feeling rather important.

Not quite as exciting as being part of a television broadcast, but it was still nice to be the centre of attention. He just didn’t grasp the significance of what he was watching nor the danger it posed. How could he when he had no inkling of how much power these men controlled?

“They formed the Society just to catch us,” he repeated smugly.

“Looks like it,” said Michael. “And it sounds as if you guys have been on their most wanted list for a thousand years. They want to catch you, that’s for sure.”

They didn’t take their eyes off the screen. They didn’t want to miss anything. They watched Buckingham describe the actions which had led him to convene the Meeting. By way of illustration, he showed the meeting pictures of the sixteen Aethelreds.

“These are what confirmed our suspicions about the thieves. These coins are from the era the travellers left and they are in pristine condition. There were only a handful of fine examples of these coins anywhere and then, within a few days, sixteen turn up. We initiated an investigation and eventually traced most of them back to an old man. His description matches the person who left some very strange items in a hotel room.”

Buckingham played a recording of the news broadcast from outside the Ritz.

“And this shield,” he said slamming it on the table for effect, “is from the same time period as the Aethelreds. And look at it, it’s in perfect condition too.”

“So that’s where it went to,” said Madrick.

Buckingham described some of the other mysteries which had occurred including the great noise which had virtually paralysed part of the city.

“We concluded that these incidents could only have been caused by magic. So we have initiated a search. We’ve not got any solid leads yet, but we will continue to interview everyone who came into contact with them. I now throw the meeting open.”

“No leads so far. That’s good,” said Michael. “We mustn’t waste any time though; these people have unimaginable resources at their disposal so, once they pick up our trail, they’ll close in on us faster than the blink of an eye.”

The Meeting continued with some of the members contributing positively, however many more just asked questions and raised concerns. Michael, Madrick and Tung listened intently. It was terrifying to watch the most powerful men on earth talking about how they were going to hunt them down. Worse still to hear about the pain and maiming these people were planning for them. The gathering agreed it would be appropriate to use medieval torture techniques… to teach them a lesson they’d understand, as it were. Michael couldn’t get the head crusher out of his brain, nor how these people had laughed as they listened to one delegate describe the device.

“We clamp the victim’s head under a metal cap with the chin placed on a solid bar. We turn the cap-screw slowly so it compresses the skull; the tighter the screw, the more compression you get. Judging by the shrieks and wailing, the pain must be excruciating. And, the great thing is, you can make the pain last as long as you choose. You can keep the head firmly clamped for days, weeks even… you should see how they writhe in agony and scream when we strike the metal skull cap with an iron bar; it’s hilarious. Then you keep tightening the screw. Their teeth shatter and splinter into the jaw. Then the eyes are squeezed from the sockets; they literally pop out. Eventually, the skull fractures and the contents of the head burst out everywhere… like when you smash a watermelon with a bat. You should hear the noise.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about this,” commented one member.

“We use it in our country every day. Fear keeps the plebs in their place.”

It was nauseating to watch these men gloat and laugh about the horrendous suffering of others. It was a relief when they moved on to their plan to catch Madrick and Tung.

By the end of the marathon session the meeting had developed a detailed three part plan. Part one dealt with the search; it was mind-boggling just how many people would be looking for them. Part two dealt with suppressing current and future stories about the strange events. Part three dealt with what they would do with the travellers when they were caught and subsequently what they would do with the Scroll.

The three men were drained; this was hard stuff to watch. Madrick shivered a little as the cold sweat leaked from his armpits. How could these people be so cruel?

“Thank God that’s over,” said Tung when Samuel Buckingham drew the meeting to a close.

None of them could have listened to much more. A palpable sense of relief filled the room.

“At least we know everything they know,” remarked Michael brightly. He needed to keep their spirits up if they were going to survive this. He needed a plan, but his thinking hadn’t got much further than ‘run away and hide’.

“I was much happier when I knew none of this,” said Madrick.

“Me too,” said Tung, “but Michael seems to know what he’s doing. Surely he’ll not let those people get us.”

They both looked at Michael. The silence was not reassuring.

“Michael?”

Michael replayed the Meeting, fast forwarding through the waffle… and the bit about the head crusher. He never wanted to hear about that disgusting torture device again, although he suspected it might turn up now and again in his nightmares.

He watched other segments of the proceedings, like Buckingham’s initial summary, over and over again. He needed to understand how these men thought. If he could think like them, then he could predict their plans and actions. Getting right inside their heads gave him the best chance of evading them, regardless of their massive resources. The odds were heavily stacked against him, but he was a clever guy; surely he was clever enough to outwit these old men? This was a bit like a computer adventure game and years of practice had made him an exceptional player. This wasn’t a game though and the consequences of losing didn’t bear thinking about.

It became clear that Sir Samuel Buckingham was held in awe by the others. Sir Samuel led all the conversations, he called the shots. The others were all extremely powerful men, but they acted subserviently to their leader. No egos clouded the issues. No petty power struggles deflected these men from doing whatever it took to gain control over the Scroll.

What would happen if these people did get their hands on the Scroll? One thing was for certain, no good would come from it, except for the bad guys. The more he listened the more he realised this wasn’t just a fight for their survival. Okay, to say it was a battle between good and evil was a bit over the top, but it would definitely be fair to call it a battle between goodness and badness. That thought alone made him even more determined to beat these men. He’d always dreamt about changing the world for the little people… maybe this was his chance.

He stopped watching. He’d gleaned enough of an insight for the time being and he could always view it all again if he wanted to. Now he needed to devise their escape plan. No one was going to help him, because he alone understood the vast resources which were lined up against them. He alone understood the connections these people had; connections with the police, the banks, credit card companies and the telecom providers. These people could find anyone, anyone that is, who didn’t know what they were doing. Tung and Madrick really had no idea. They were complacent in their ignorance and maybe it was best to leave them that way for the moment. For now, their survival was solely down to him.

This whole thing was becoming a test of his intellect, like one of those complex logic puzzles which always fascinated him. These people were terrifying, but the challenge was exciting; exciting because he was sure he could win.

First though, he’d initiate the final phase of his hacking IIBE scheme. Not quite the softly-softly approach he’d originally planned. Instead, he’d hit the bank immediately with the big steal. He’d suck their money out like a vampire who hadn’t fed for a hundred years and transfer it to random individuals. The bank’s security team would be left chasing shadows and red herrings.

As a further distraction, his software would send enormous sums to various national tax authorities like the Inland Revenue Service in the US and HM Revenue & Customs in the UK. Try and get that money back, why don’t you? They’d be tied in knots when Government auditors and inspectors got their noses into their business; what an intricate can of worms they’d find there.

A number of well known charities were going to get some unexpected huge donations. That felt good. Either the charities would get an enormous influx of cash to help them with their benevolent works or else IIBE would suffer crippling bad publicity if they siphoned the money back out of these good causes. The good guys win or the bad guys lose.

Right in the middle of all this chaos, he’d pop a few million into a scattering of accounts he’d created for his false identity; just a little something for himself.

This massive outpouring of money was bound to drag some of the heat off them. The Council would have to redirect some of their attention into plugging the leak. They were bound to be horrified as vast sums of their own money seeped out of IIBE and disappeared into the ether. They’d be terrified about the consequences to the financial systems around the globe. Big corporations would be particularly badly affected which in itself would also hit these people hard. A double whammy right in their faces, or to be more precise, right in their pockets.

He hit a few more keys on his computer and stared at the screen. This was the moment he’d been planning for oh such a long time. He savoured it for a full two minutes before he hit the ‘enter’ key and set the massive theft in motion.

He’d booked three days holiday from work to give him time to deal with Tung and Madrick. It hadn’t been in preparation to launch his fraud, but his absence would now undoubtedly raise suspicion. That suspicion would be dramatically heightened when he didn’t show up for work once his holiday was over. By then they’d surely know it had been him, but it would be far too late for them to do anything about it. Anyway, there was no point in worrying about things which were so far ahead. Right now, all he wanted to do was thoroughly distract them and get himself a decent head start.

He packed up his laptop and all the other paraphernalia he’d need to access the IIBE systems from wherever he was, systems including their teleconference facility. Being able to watch them discuss their tactics gave him a massive advantage which he wanted to hold onto for as long as possible.

Tung and Madrick had been busy too; busy creating spells. They’d willed up quite a few more useless enchantments, but that was always the pattern. There was always lots of nonsense and then bingo, they hit the big one.

Michael heard the cheer. He was at a natural breakpoint so, he thought, he might as well check out what’s going on.

“Good news?” he asked hopefully. “Have we got a winner?”

“We have the best,” shouted Madrick. “We have the absolute best ever.”

After the Council Meeting, Jim Robinson was summoned to Sir Samuel Buckingham’s office. He was the Head of Security at IIBE and a loyal member of the Occultus Populous. He’d worked for Buckingham for many years and over that time a real bond of trust had built up between the two. They’d originally met through the Occultus Populous and had quickly grown to like and respect one another.

He’d a long and distinguished army career under his ammo belt, much of it served with the Special Forces. He never talked about what had been involved. Except to Sir Samuel; only Sir Samuel knew about the black operations, the dirty tricks and the state sanctioned killings.

He had combat experience from around the world. Officially, his tours of duty had taken him into most of the regions where the British forces had a presence, including Iraq and Afghanistan. Unofficially, his tours had taken him to parts of the world where the British had no military involvement whatsoever.

He’d been wounded twice. Nothing particularly severe, but the last incident effectively ended his career. A ricocheting bullet had caught him in the thigh. Had he had it treated straight away he might have fully recovered, but he fought on for three hours killing five of the enemy and ensuring his mission was successfully completed. Fight on was what he did; what he always did. This time, his thigh paid the price… permanent damage to the muscle structure. Damn the leg. A slight weakness and bang went his one hundred per cent fitness record. Anything less than one hundred percent was unacceptable in his regiment. Damn the leg and its stupid weakness.

Returning to ordinary duty was an option, but how could he do the routine stuff after the exhilaration of his ‘special’ adventures? Routine would never work for him so he accepted an honourable discharge instead. He missed army life; the adventure, the comradeship… the killing. Had he made the right decision? He stopped wondering the day he met Sir Samuel Buckingham.

Within a month of meeting Buckingham, he’d been appointed as the Head of Security at IIBE. It wasn’t the army, but hey, it gave him the fulfilment he needed and he inwardly thanked Sir Samuel everyday for the opportunity. He felt indebted to Sir Samuel and that indebtedness evolved into a great personal loyalty to the man, a loyalty which went far above and beyond his allegiance to IIBE.

An outsider would probably think his security role was a far cry from the thrill of special operations. That’s because an outsider could have no inkling about what his job actually entailed. True, it was a different sort of excitement, but the challenge of protecting such an important institution from thieves and fraudsters genuinely inspired him. He loved his job.

With a dedicated professionalism and efficiency, he shaped the security department into a highly effective shield for the bank. Behind the scenes, there was a lot more going on. There were shady secrets, dirty dealings and special assignments. He relished this clandestine side of his job, especially when it crossed society’s legal and moral boundaries. Personally, he’d no qualms about doing ‘whatever was needed’ to protect the bank and Sir Samuel trusted him enough to give him control of all the dangerous, off-record activities.

He had only let Sir Samuel down once and he’d never owned up to his failure. It was his own personal dirty little secret and he was ashamed. The assignment had been the final part of a campaign to terrify a local drug dealer. Sir Samuel had wanted the man and his cronies to stop dealing in the vicinity of the bank. A sterile, crime free area around the bank meant the police had no need to poke around, no need to stick their noses in the bank’s business. Killing the man wasn’t the answer, one of his underlings would have stepped up and carried on the trade; almost literally stepping into the dead man’s shoes.

“His daughter, Jim, I want you to kill his daughter. Shoot her in the face in front of the mother. Destroying the little girl’s face will deliver a message they’ll never forget. Even the best mortician in the city won’t be able to reconstruct her. The last memory the toerag will have of his beloved five year old daughter will be viewing the outside of a closed coffin.”

It seemed cruel, but Sir Samuel was just making sure the dealer was in no doubt that moving on was his only alternative. Jim knew his boss wasn’t a cruel hearted man by nature, he was just a man who liked a job to be done properly.

When the time came, Jim couldn’t do it. He could still see the little girl staring at him in wide-eyed terror as he pointed the gun in her face. He could still hear the mother wailing and pleading. That’s when he weakened, that’s the moment when he let Sir Samuel down. He put his hand on the girl’s head and turned her face away. He shot her through the temple, just once, leaving her face intact. He was a weak man, he’d failed.

It had all worked out fine though. The drug dealer was distraught. He got the message and moved away. Word got round the criminal underworld and no one chose to fill the gap. The streets surrounding the bank were clean again. Job done. He considered telling Sir Samuel about his failing, but decided against it. This second weakness would stay his secret. He cursed both his weaknesses, damn his lack of determination, damn his leg. No more, he swore he’d never fail his boss again, not ever.

He concentrated hard as Buckingham briefed him on the current situation. He listened to what had been discussed at the Meeting. It didn’t take long for him to understand the gravity of the situation.

“The search hasn’t been conducted with any real urgency up to this point. All that’s been discovered so far is part of the story about the gold Aethelreds. Things need to change. We must track down these thieves and the Scroll. I think you know what this means to the Society, but I want to stress how important the Scroll is to me personally. I’m placing my trust in you, Jim, to hunt these people down. Bring them to me.”

He nodded. He knew better than to interrupt his boss when orders were being given.

“Assemble a squad of only the best people so you can to track down the fugitives quickly. Money is no object and you have total control over the operation. Remember, Jim, this is absolutely top secret. Sorry, I know you know that, but I’m nervous. This is all so important.”

More nodding.

“You have full authority to call on every resource available to IIBE and the Occultus Populous to catch these people. If you can’t get hold of something, just ask me. Whatever you need, no matter what, it will be made available. Money is no object,” Sir Samuel repeated. “And take no account of legal considerations. Do what you need to do. I’ll protect you from any unwelcome consequences.”

He knew there were plenty of complications within this task. Not least of which was the fact that he couldn’t reveal the existence of the Occultus Populous to any outsiders. And he’d have to maintain secrecy within his team, even they couldn’t be told the full story.

To date, only a small group of agents had been sent out to catch the magic makers and they’d not known exactly what they were looking for. They’d not known about the Scroll. They’d not known about Sir Samuel’s personal interest in their mission.

Everything had changed. The Council had decreed that this search was the top priority, in fact, it was the only priority. More importantly, Sir Samuel had decreed it. Now the gloves were off and he relished the challenge. Watch out Scroll thieves, here I come.

He left Buckingham and went back to his office to plan his campaign of attack. Adrenaline coursed through his body. This was the big one. All his training and experience kicked in. This was a critical mission and it needed to be tackled with military precision. First step, work out the best resources to line up against the problem. He started to make a number of lists.