Forces from Beyond (21 page)

“Did you leave something special there?” said Melody.

“It’s more what I don’t want the cabal to have access to,” said Latimer. “But there are a few things lying around that might prove useful where we’re going. Not everything in my office is what it appears to be.”

“Department of no surprise at all,” said Happy.

They all looked at him. He’d been quiet so long, they’d forgotten he was there.

“Welcome back, Mr. Palmer,” said Latimer. “Are you ready to be a useful member of the team again?”

“Possibly,” said Happy. “I’m still wondering how that Door is going to break through Buckingham-Palace-level security shields.”

“It’s a Drood Door,” said JC.

“Ah,” said Happy. “Sorry. I must have been away when that bombshell was dropped.”

“There is one item in particular,” said Latimer, “that I want to have with me if we’re going face-to-face with the Flesh Undying.”

“What might that be?” said MacAbre.

“Just a little something,” said Latimer, “to end the world, if necessary.”

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WHO’S THAT KNOCKING AT MY DOOR?

JC followed Catherine Latimer through the new Door she’d made into what used to be her old office; and it didn’t feel like going home at all. Everyone else hurried after him, almost treading on his heels. None of them wanted to be left behind, in the Headquarters of Evil Inc. Latimer waited till they were all safely gathered in, then turned and shut the Door firmly in the face of Vivienne MacAbre.

“Sorry, Grand-daughter. There are limits.”

JC couldn’t help but notice the obvious delight Natasha Chang took in the outrage on MacAbre’s face before the Door closed on it. Perhaps because if there were useful secrets and special advantages to be found in the Boss’s office, Chang wanted them all to herself. Latimer sank her hand into the Door, and ripped it right off the wall. It quickly shrank back into a shapeless black blob that barely filled her hand, and Latimer tucked it safely away in her jacket pocket. JC was quietly very impressed. No-one knows how the Droods do the things they do or make the things they make; and it isn’t considered wise to ask. Because the answers would only upset you. Latimer looked carefully at the wall where the Door had been, then nodded briefly, satisfied.

“Just making sure we won’t be followed. Drood biotech is supposed to be unbreakable, but . . .”

“Biotech?” said Melody. “That stuff is alive?”

“Never ask Droods personal questions,” said Latimer. She looked steadily at Chang. “No doubt you’ll make a full report on everything that happens here when you see MacAbre again. But I would strongly suggest you be . . . circumspect when it comes to Drood things.”

“Of course,” said Chang. “The Project doesn’t want a war with that family. Not yet, anyway.”

Rather than think about the implications of that, JC looked around the Boss’s office. After so much had happened, he expected it to look somehow different; but nothing had changed. The same Hepplewhite desk and chair, the same books and files on the shelves, the same air of long-established authority. Latimer’s old souvenirs were still set out on display, no doubt soon to be replaced by Allbright’s. Assuming she had any. It took JC a moment to realise one particular item was missing.

“Boss?” he said. “What’s happened to the Haunted Glove?”

“I found a use for it,” said Latimer, in a tone that strongly discouraged further questions on the subject. “At least the new order hasn’t got around to ransacking my things, just yet. All my records are still in place, undisturbed . . . I really should destroy them rather than risk such dangerous knowledge falling into the cabal’s hands; but I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?” said Melody.

“Because I have every intention of making this my office again, someday,” said Latimer.

“It would be a brave man who bet against you,” JC said solemnly. And then he stopped and looked at her thoughtfully. “Were you joking, back in MacAbre’s office? When you said you wanted to pick up something here that could destroy the world?”

“I am of course famous for my whimsical sense of humour,” said Latimer.

“No you’re bloody not,” said Happy.

Latimer looked down her nose at him. “My, we are feeling brave today, aren’t we, Mr. Palmer?”

“I blame the drugs,” said Happy.

“You wouldn’t actually destroy the entire world, would you?” said Melody.

“I might,” said Latimer. “If it looked like the Flesh Undying was winning and was ready to destroy this world during its escape . . . I would destroy the world first. And take the creature down with us. I have always been a very sore loser.”

She went walking around her office, picking things up and stuffing them into a large black Gladstone bag she retrieved from under her desk. As far as JC could tell, none of the pieces she chose were particularly important or powerful. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said she was just taking things at random. And then he noticed Chang paying very close attention to everything Latimer did; and it occurred to him that quite possibly the Boss only wanted a few things and was hiding them among the others . . .

Happy looked dubiously at the battered Gladstone bag. “That is a seriously old piece of luggage, Boss. How old are you, really?”

“Never ask a lady her age,” said Latimer. She looked quickly around to make sure she had everything she wanted, then closed the Gladstone bag with a decisive snap. “This was a present from my grandfather.”

“Who?” said Chang, her ears pricking up immediately.

“Ask my grand-daughter,” said Latimer. She put the bag on the desk, sank down into what used to be her chair, and seemed lost in thought.

JC waited for her to say something, and when it became clear that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, he moved slowly around the office, just looking at things. Remembering a time when he used to think this one of the scariest places in the world. When he would get chills and shakes just sitting in the waiting room, preparing to meet the Boss and face her disapproval. It had come as something of a shock to find out she was almost human, after all.

“Some of these pieces look pretty valuable, Boss,” he said finally. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like us all to grab a handful? Or even an armful? We could shift a lot of this, between us.”

“No,” said Latimer. “I’m only taking what matters. The rest is just . . . stuff. And you can always get more stuff. I’ve never been the kind for sentimental attachments. Live long enough, and you realise it’s memories that matter, not possessions. Put that down, Chang.”

They all turned to look at Natasha Chang, who froze where she was, caught in the act of slipping something into her pocket. She quickly put it back.

“I was just looking! It’s only a small carved stone head, with remarkably ugly features. What’s so special about it?”

“It’s not something you should be touching,” said Latimer. “If you plan on surviving the next few moments. That is the Stone Head of Whitby. It corrupts souls.”

Chang sniffed loudly. “Like I need the competition.”

Latimer considered the Gladstone bag sitting patiently before her on the desk and nodded slowly. “That’s it. I’m finished here.”

But she didn’t move from where she was. Just leaned back in her chair and looked around her office, her face unreadable.

“Good memories, Boss?” JC said tentatively. He wasn’t comfortable with seeing her so human, so vulnerable.

“Good and bad,” said Latimer. “All the years I sat behind this desk, trapped by responsibilities and obligations. You tell yourself you’re doing a hard and difficult job because it matters. Because you’re making a difference. But the world goes on and the problems never end and suddenly you look up . . . and find you’re old. And not sure anything you’ve ever done has made a blind bit of difference.”

“Things would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t been here,” said Melody.

“Perhaps,” said Latimer. She didn’t sound convinced.

“Everyone at the Crowley Project has their conscience removed when they join,” Chang said breezily. “It makes life so much simpler.”

“Simpler isn’t always better,” said Latimer.

“I will say this,” said Chang. “You scared the Project more than anyone else ever has.”

“Thank you,” said Latimer.

Happy’s head came up suddenly, and he looked quickly about him. “Pay attention, people! Someone knows we’re here.”

They all looked quickly round the office. The room seemed perfectly calm and quiet. Happy turned slowly to look at the closed door. His face was clear and his eyes were sharp; but he looked at the door as though the Devil himself was on the other side, looking back. Melody moved in close beside him, not saying anything, not wanting to distract him, just support him with her presence.

“Allbright must have installed some new security systems,” said Latimer. “Good for her. First thing she’s done that I approve of.”

“Nice idea, maybe,” said JC. “Really bad timing for us. Who’s out there, Happy? Can you tell?”

Happy moved slowly forward and didn’t stop until he was right in front of the door, so close his face was almost touching it. His gaze was fierce and intent, as though he could look through the solid material.

“They’re standing right outside,” he said quietly. “Listening to us. And smiling. Because they’re planning on killing every single person in this room and enjoying it.”

“Well that’s just rude,” said Chang. “What if I was willing to surrender?”

“Are you?” said Latimer.

“Of course not!” said Chang. “But that’s not the point! The Institute are supposed to be the good guys. You’re supposed to offer your enemies the chance to surrender and avoid bloodshed, not just wipe everyone out! Like the Project would . . .”

“Things have changed here,” said Latimer.

JC moved forward, to stand behind Happy. “Who is it, Happy? Who’s out there?”

The telepath frowned, concentrating. And then his face cleared suddenly, into a look of sheer astonishment. “Oh, JC, you’re really not going to believe this . . .”

And that was when Kim stepped out of JC, revealing her presence. Everyone jumped, just a little.

“I knew it!” said Chang, stabbing an accusing finger at Kim and JC. “I knew you were hiding inside him all this time!”

“No you didn’t,” said Kim. She looked steadily at JC, holding his gaze with hers. “It’s time for me to tell the truth, JC. About where I was and what I was doing, all the time I was away, working for the Boss.”

JC looked at Happy, still staring in amazement at the door, then back at Kim.

“Now? Really?”

“Yes,” said Kim. “You need to know this. You all do. When I occupied Patterson’s body, outside Chimera House, I caught a brief glimpse of who had been in his head before me, working his body. Using it against us. Remember, JC, the voice said you’d know it if it said its name. That we all would.”

“So who was it?” said JC.

“It was Heather,” said Kim. “The Boss’s personal secretary and last line of defence.”

JC, Melody, and Happy all turned immediately to stare at Latimer, who didn’t appear in the least surprised. Chang looked on, fascinated.

“That’s why I had to stay away for so long,” said Kim. “Keep separate from all of you, on the Boss’s orders. So Heather wouldn’t suspect anyone knew about her.”

“Heather?” said Melody. “
The secretary?
That’s like saying the butler did it . . .”

“She was always more than just a secretary,” said Happy. And he went back to looking at the door.

“You knew,” JC said to Latimer. “How long have you known?”

“I had my suspicions,” Latimer said evenly. “Heather had access to everything because I gave it to her. And there were things she said . . . things she did, or didn’t do . . . I’ve had a great many secretaries down the years; I can always tell when something’s wrong. When Kim came to tell me what she’d discovered, I wasn’t surprised. Just terribly disappointed. Just as I’d been disappointed in Patterson. I put years of my life into training those two, raising them up and giving them every advantage because it’s a lonely job to do on your own. I really believed I could depend on them.”

“When you put Kim to work,” said JC, “you put her in danger.”

“She volunteered!” said Latimer. “To protect you! And your team. I couldn’t send any of my usual people after Heather; what with the Flesh Undying and the cabal, I didn’t know whom I could trust. So I chose Kim. A spy who couldn’t be detected because she wasn’t really there.”

“I haunted Heather,” said Kim. “Followed her everywhere, unseen and unsuspected, learned all I could and finally reported back. But I still couldn’t tell you anything, JC, in case you gave it away. You still thought of Heather as your friend. And you’ve always been far too honest and open for your own good.”

“Goes with the job,” said JC. He still felt hurt that she hadn’t felt able to confide in him. Even though he knew she was right.

“And now Heather’s here,” said Kim. “Right outside that door. Come to murder us all in the hottest of hot blood.”

“Hold it,” said JC. “Hold everything. How does Heather know it’s us in here? No-one saw us enter the office.”

“She knows,” said Happy.

“Allbright must have installed one hell of an alarm system,” said Latimer. “And once the cabal knew we were here, Heather was given her orders. Kill us all while she had the chance. No survivors, no excuses. It’s what I would have done.”

“And I am here to tell you,” said Happy, “that Heather is really looking forward to it. Like a predator with the scent of prey in her nostrils and a thirst for blood and suffering.”

“Why is she mad at us?” said JC, just a bit plaintively. “The Boss, yes, I get that; but I always thought of Heather as . . . one of us.”

“It seems our little Heather has developed a taste for the kill,” said Happy. His mouth twisted. “You wouldn’t believe what it’s like inside her head right now. I could never see before; the Boss’s shields kept me out. But now Heather wants me to see, wants me to know. She can feel my disgust. She thinks it’s funny.”

“Rotten cow,” said Melody.

“Can you see Heather through the door?” said Latimer.

“Sort of,” said Happy.

“What kind of weapons has she got?” said Latimer.

“The really bad kind,” said Happy. His scowl deepened, as though he wanted to look away but wouldn’t let himself. “They aren’t . . . ordinary weapons. Unnatural things, horribly powerful. Hurts my head just to look at them. I can’t believe the cabal gave them to her . . . They must really want us dead. Hold it . . . I’m getting something else. Oh shit . . .”

“Oh come on!” said JC. “How much worse can it be?”

“Heather isn’t just working for the cabal,” Happy said steadily. “She’s also an agent for the Flesh Undying. A personal agent, like the Faust. She has its power within her.”

“Okay,” said JC. “You’re right. That is worse.”

“Heather?” said Melody. “Our Heather? I can’t believe it . . .”

“We never knew Heather,” said Happy. “Not really. All we ever saw was the smiling face she let us see. Someone else was watching, from behind that mask. Now she wants us to see the real her, before we die, screaming in horror.”