Dark Tidings: Ancient Magic Meets the Internet Book 1 (22 page)

The resources dedicated to the manhunt would frighten any sane prey. Agents were assigned to every sighting of the old man and his accomplice; every sighting was fully investigated. They’d already tracked most of the Aethelred coins back to ‘Buy your Gold’ stores or small antique shops. Each place was revisited in an attempt to establish where the old man had gone to and where he had come from. No stone was left unturned, but there were stones by the lorry load. CCTV images, witnesses and intuition added to the mix. Gradually Robinson reconstructed the route Tung and Madrick had followed to the Ritz. He also pieced together everything the pair had done during their stay there… booze and beef mainly.

A couple of lucky breaks helped complete the trail back to the beach houses on the coast. Each hut was given the once-over treatment revealing yet more evidence; random magic debris and more Aethelreds.

They thought they’d hit gold when they found an old man hiding in one of the huts. It only took a short interrogation, and four broken fingers, to establish that the man was just a vagrant taking shelter. He’d nothing to do with the thieves.

That’s when the trail went completely dead. Robinson concluded it must have been where the time travellers had landed. That made sense. Occultus Populous archives showed the huts were relatively near the point where the thieves had disappeared nearly a thousand years earlier.

Every shred of information was gathered and collated. It added up to the mountain of evidence, but so what? It was all very well to know where these people had been; what really mattered was where they’d gone. That’s why he’d allocated even more agents (and agencies) to follow their route from the Ritz.

He had names, gleaned from the hotel register… Tung and Madrick Tide; father and son apparently. Were these people really related? Were these their real names? As soon as he heard the names he’d suspected they were false.

“Tung Tide. Say it out loud.”

“Right, ‘tongue tied’, that’s got to be a joke.”

Tung could have told him about the origin of his name. It was a joke, but it was also, sadly for him, his real name.

Regardless of whether the names were real or fake, at least he now had labels for his prey. He was sure they were false identities, but he ran them through every database he could access nonetheless. There were no matching entries. Nothing. Nada. Nilch. No surprise there.

His agents interviewed all the staff at the Ritz. Like everything else, it was time consuming, but it helped build a picture of two men who were clearly out of place in this hotel, never mind this century. Only one worthwhile lead emerged from these enquiries. It related to a night when the thieves had partied with another man and woman. The group had retired to their suite and the unknown couple had stayed overnight. Not momentous in itself, but the man had returned on a number of occasions and he’d been with them when they checked out of the hotel. Now that was momentous. Was this man in league with them? This guy was clearly from the twenty-first century; young, modern with a trendy beard and moustache. That meant there’d be records. This guy would have an electronic trail… everyone had an electronic trail. This was the breakthrough he’d been waiting for.

He stared at the pictures of the targets; Tung, Madrick and the modern man. The images had been gleaned from the wealth of CCTV coverage from the hotel and various camera systems in the area. Leading experts had sifted and analysed the footage and he held the results of their work in his hands. Top quality photographs of the bad guys, along with accurate heights and weights. Better still, some of the CCTV images showed the modern man using a mobile phone. They’d cross referenced the exact time and location against databases from all the mobile phone companies. Laborious, but it had given them a shortlist of potential names which they could filter using the other intelligence which was accumulating. His teams continued gathering information and his analysts kept analysing it. Their perseverance eventually identified Michael Phillips as the third man.

“Got you,” said Robinson when he was given the news.

He immediately dispatched a team to the man’s last known address where they found a whole series of clues and leads amongst the debris of the recently abandoned apartment. Small teams were allocated to follow up each new lead.

In addition to feet on the street, they were continuing to use facial recognition technology, mobile phone records, credit card transaction analysis, CCTV fractional identification and a host of other hi-tech techniques to help them close in on their targets.

Eventually they got footage of them boarding a southbound train. There they were, in clear view. They didn’t find footage of them disembarking, but all the signs pointed to Dover as their destination. Credit card payments seemed to confirm it… the idiot was using his credit card.

Half his agents were sent to Dover and another team was dispatched to France in case they’d jumped onto a ferry. There was plenty to check out, there were plenty of clues.

He sat in his office and stared at the photograph of Michael Phillips. What are you up to? Why are you so hard to find, yet you’ve left so many clues? He sensed something was wrong. He sensed they might be half way through a wild goose chase. But what else could he do? He had to follow all his leads, particularly those which related to Michael Phillips.

Once Phillips had been identified it didn’t take long to find out every detail about him.

“He what?” He slammed his fists on his desk when he heard the news.

“He worked in our computer department; a security specialist no less,” repeated the agent.

“Bugger, how the hell did we allow that to happen?”

He didn’t believe in coincidences. The scroll thieves and the bank theft were linked; he couldn’t explain it yet but they were definitely linked. Phillips had perpetrated the fraud and he was in cahoots with the travellers. This guy was no mug; the bank’s experts still hadn’t worked out how to stop the money leak or how to repair the damage. Here was a dangerous opponent who shouldn’t be underestimated, and he had magic on his side.

While a large contingent of the field agents followed through on the Dover and France angles, other smaller teams continued to gather evidence at the Ritz and at Michael’s apartment. Collectively they were amassing huge quantities of material which all needed to be analysed. They had so much intelligence now they were beginning to suffer from information overload. They were in danger of losing a vital piece of knowledge because it was buried in a mountain of dross. Even though this was a risk, they continued to gather CCTV footage and scour each of the hot areas for witnesses or evidence of strange occurrences.

A further, highly technical, group had been assembled and deployed to tackle the IIBE theft problem. This group included computer specialists, IIBE security personnel and, secretly, Occultus Populous software engineers. They were supplemented by teams, from other Council member organisations, who were working backwards from where the money had ended up. Check out the receiving accounts. See how they’re all connected. The perpetrator must be linked in some way to these accounts, otherwise what was the point?

Finally, a crack team from Noviru was in place. After all, their software was meant to offer total protection so they were under immense pressure to find an answer.

The IIBE financial systems had now been shut down for nearly four hours and the world was taking notice. Statements and press releases had been issued about computer malfunctions, but they would only hold up for a short period and then the panic would start with a potentially crippling effect on the world financial markets.

In total, there were over three thousand people dedicated to fixing the problem and finding Michael, Tung and Madrick. In fact, there were a lot more eyes hunting for them if you counted the outside agencies. The police, MI5 and border control, to name but a few, had their photographs so they were on the lookout too.

Buckingham surveyed the mountain of information which had been gathered. He knew they’d made fantastic progress in a very short time. They’d identified the three men; the two travellers from the past and their collaborator, Michael Phillips.

They’d plugged the IIBE system. Well done, Noviru. Their team had quickly spotted where Michael had disabled parts of their software. Once everything had been reinstated, the intelligent software quickly cleansed the system. IIBE was up and running again, but the fraud had allowed nearly three hundred billion pounds to leak out to accounts all over the globe. They’d already recovered about fifty billion, but Buckingham knew the recovery would be slow and he accepted they would never claw back all their funds.

The bank’s reputation had suffered untold damage and this would get even worse once the story of the fraud got out, as it inevitably would. He’d deal with that particular difficulty when it arose. No point in fretting about it now.

They’d minimised the problem at IIBE, but it had been a serious distraction. They needed to find the three men quickly, but the trail seemed to have gone cold. They had mountains of information, although in reality they had no rock solid leads. He decided to allocate even more resources to the hunt. He had to find these men and the Scroll. And he needed to know why the time travellers were working with Phillips to defraud IIBE.

Michael, Madrick and Tung watched the Council meeting on the big split screen.

“Oh my God, they know who I am already,” said Michael when he heard them mention him by name. “It makes the whole ‘they’re after me’ thing seem so much more real and personal. I knew they’d identify me eventually, but I didn’t think they’d be so quick. These people are not to be underestimated.”

The three of them listened to Buckingham describe the chase so far. They all high-fived when he talked about the search leading to France.

“Hopefully, the majority of the search will be diverted to follow a continental wild goose chase… oie sauvage chase. They’ve already followed the shoal of the red herrings we left in my flat,” said Michael.

“Red herrings sent them on a wild goose chase,” said Tung.

“Precisely, they think we’re in Dover and heading for France. Or, even better, they think we’re in France already. I am a smart boy. Hopefully they’ll soon pick up some more of the bogus credit card purchases I planted. Keep your fingers crossed, we may just have fooled these people.”

Michael had laid the false trail with his real Phillip’s credit cards. He’d supplemented that evidence with a few cleverly constructed electronic paths left on his ‘dummy’ computer back at the flat. All the cards had now been destroyed along with all the rest of his old identification. There was nothing to link the old Michael Phillips with the new Michael Baker.

They listened intently to the rest of the meeting. Michael was disappointed they’d plugged the IIBE system, but was delighted to hear they’d no further leads on him and his friends. He was also pleasantly overwhelmed to hear he’d extracted over three hundred billion pounds from their coffers.

The Council was just about to start describing the next phase of the hunt when Michael’s screen went blank.

“Damn it.” he said. “What the hell has happened?”

He checked all his connections and ran a few software routines.

“Damn it. It looks like they’ve found my spy software. That’s the end of us knowing what they’re doing. At least we know we haven’t left any loose ends or made any silly mistakes. So let’s not get too worried. They know a lot about us, but they haven’t a clue what to do with all the information they’ve gathered. It’s like knowing that a tomato is a fruit, but not understanding that it doesn’t go in your fruit salad. Too much information can just blur the objective.”

Madrick and Tung looked puzzled. They reckoned it must be one of those strange modern expressions so they let it pass straight over their heads without comment. Michael saw the puzzled looks and realised what he’d said didn’t make much sense to him either. It was easier to just leave it and move on.

For the next couple of hours he explained how to keep a low profile and stay well below the radar.

“We’ll avoid high surveillance areas such as seaports and airports. And I need to create modern day identities for you two. That’s important, but not particularly urgent. There’s really no rush, we can take our time creating your new personas.”

“Can I have a new name?” asked Tung.

“I think we can manage that. Tung sort of sticks out.”

“Ha ha.”

Michael thought hard about what had led up to this point. He couldn’t see how their trail could be followed. As far as he could work out, they were home free. By way of celebration, he ordered a Chinese carry-out feast to be delivered and the three of them settled down to enjoy the banquet when it arrived.

“We need to be extra careful how we go on from here. We all want to have fun and enjoy our lives, but these are powerful people and they won’t stop looking for us. I mean, they’ve been looking for you guys for a thousand years.”

The statement struck home. These people would never stop. They were like ancient Terminators, thought Michael, but he’d no intention of trying to explain that particular thought to the others.

“It’s all quiet now. We seem to have shaken them off and it’s clear they don’t have a clue where we are or what they should do next. Let’s make the most of this space.”

“Maybe it’s just the calm before the storm in a teacup,” said Tung.

Michael tried to analyse what Tung had just said, but gave up quickly. It would be great if all they faced was a ‘storm in a teacup’ but he suspected they had a lot more than that to worry about.

Madrick didn’t want to spoil the meal with serious conversations, so he steered the talk away from heavy subjects.

“There are lots of things I’ve accepted about the twenty-first century… electricity, cars, planes, television, but there are so many other things I just don’t understand.”

Michael was happy to go down this road and move on to something more trivial. They all needed a break from the stressful situation they’d been dealing with over the last few days. He expected to spend the next while trying to explain complex issues like the Internet, nuclear power and maybe even space travel. He was surprised by the list Madrick sprung on him.

“What’s the deal with gymnasiums, drugs, charity shops, dentists, parliament, poodles, opera, social workers and lipstick? I’ve got plenty more questions, but that lot will do for starters,” he said as he popped a spring roll in his mouth. That’ll do as a starter as well, he thought.

It was as if he’d been compiling a list for an occasion just like this and, in a way, that’s exactly what he had done. He’d come across references to these modern phenomena, but hadn’t had a chance to find out about them.

“Yeah,” piped in Tung. “And what about broccoli, chewing gum, cricket and pantomimes? Oh yes, and zebras?”

“Hold on guys, hold on, one thing at a time. Which one do you want to start with? Not broccoli or pantomime though, because I don’t get them either.”

Madrick picked gymnasiums as the first topic and Michael spent the rest of the meal trying to explain the purpose of tiring yourself out on pointless machines. He found it hard to satisfy Madrick’s constant queries.

“Why have machines to run on when you can just run outside? I don’t get it, what’s the point? Actually, why would you want to run anywhere, if you don’t need to be there in a hurry?”

It was a fun conversation and they laughed a lot at the anomalies of modern life.

When they finished the meal the conversation drifted back to what they should do in the short-term. They made some plans, but Michael was agitated. He was missing something and he knew exactly what it was; he knew exactly what was upsetting him. He had an overwhelming need to talk to Faith. Of course, the bad guys would know about his relationship with her. Of course, he’d need to be extremely careful. There would be risk, but sometimes needs must. He thought hard about how he could talk to her without compromising either his secret identity or his location. There had to be a way. He had to find a way before it is too late for their relationship.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Faith face to face,” Michael tried to say. It came out more like ‘Faith faith to faith’.

He tried again, but it came out exactly the same way.

“I haven’t seen Faith in person for ages,” he said, giving up on the tongue twister. “I really want to call her and make sure she’s okay. I’d love to get together with her again… no, I need to get together with her again. I know it’s too risky to just go ahead and do it, but I have to find a way to see her, a way which is safe for everyone.”

Madrick and Tung choked in unison, little bits of rice flying out of their mouths like a mini snow storm.

“You need to think inside the box about this,” said Tung.

“What? What are you talking about? Think inside the box?”

“You told us we had to ‘think outside the box’ when the answer wasn’t obvious.”

“So what’s your point?” asked Michael, although he knew fine well what the point was.

“The answer here is so obvious. Remember you told us that zebra thinking was ignoring the obvious answer? Making things too complicated. You said ‘when you hear hooves coming up behind you, you should think horse, not zebra.’ Remember that?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, this requires ‘horse inside the box’ thinking. The answer is blindingly obvious. The answer is ‘don’t be an idiot, don’t contact her’,” concluded Tung, folding his arms across his chest for emphasis.

Michael knew he was right. It would be stupid to contact Faith. It was such an idiotic idea even Tung thought it was mad. So, he needed to find a way to make it seem sensible. He would find a way to make it seem sensible.