Revenge of the Brotherhood (Book 3 in the Tom & Laura Series) (2 page)

BOOK: Revenge of the Brotherhood (Book 3 in the Tom & Laura Series)
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Belinda smiled and patted Arnold’s hand.

“Don’t be so downcast. Remember, you are going to be the Best Man at the wedding of the year. Even those who have snubbed Sir Ernest cannot deny that our wedding will be important. The Queen and Prince Albert are attending, along with many other notable guests.”

Arnold cringed at the thought. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Belinda grinned, “Well, I had thought it might, but I was obviously wrong.”

 

“Ingrid, you shoot the man on the left. I will kill the one on the right.”

Annelise Shultz’s orders were issued curtly, but there was no sign of stress in her voice. From her tone, she might have been suggesting a walk in the garden.

Ingrid Brown aimed her rifle at the Prussian guards in the distance. They stood together, smoking pipes and talking genially. The border between Austria and Prussia was a quiet place. They would not expect the death awaiting them, nor know why they died. Ingrid did not know why they should be killed either, but having been trained by the Austro-Hungarian Empire to be a spy, she knew she was not supposed to ask.

“Now,” Annelise ordered and Ingrid pulled the trigger. Two loud bangs and acrid smoke were the result. The men at the border post hunkered down and then ran for the safety of the guard house.

“You missed,” Annelise accused. She had put down her rifle and held a pistol in her hand. It pointed straight at Ingrid’s heart.

“I swear I aimed straight at him,” Ingrid said desperately. The truth was that she had not, and it appeared it would cost her her life. Then the trickiness circuits in her brain kicked in and she relaxed. “And what is your excuse? Both men ran for the hut, not one.”

Annelise put up her revolver and grinned. “The test was whether you would notice you were being tricked and you passed. Our rifles were loaded with blanks. We cannot shoot our friends, the Prussians, even though their Queen is also Queen of the British Empire. Welcome to the ranks of the most elite spying organization in the world. You have passed the final test.”

Ingrid shook Annelise’s hand. Ingrid smiled because she had been in the most elite group of spies long before she came to Austria. That title was reserved for MM3 agents as far as she was concerned and Camilla Burns had graduated from Hobsgate nearly a year ago.

2.
  
Plans

 

The Seven Branches of Military Magic

Spellbinding:

Physical transformation of things and people for a limited time.

Healing:

Healing the sick and wounded.

Farseeing:

Seeing events that are happening elsewhere.

Precognition:
 

Seeing things that might happen in the future.

Empathy:

Reading the emotions of another person.

The Rare Branches

Telepathy:

Sending thoughts into another person's mind, usually only to a twin brother or sister.

Reading:

 

Seeing things that have happened in the past.
 
The ability to read the past from objects and places.

 

- from A Short History of Military Magics by Sir Anthony Barrett

 

Tom followed Dougal through the station feeling bemused. While he wanted to see Laura more than anything else in the world, she wasn’t in need of rescue. As a Class A Spellbinder she was an asset the Empire would protect with all the means at its disposal. He suspected that she was in a mansion this very moment, waited on hand and foot, and had probably forgotten all about him.

As with the station at Glen Russell, this one connected to an enormous shed-like building and the train set off into it as soon as he collected his luggage. Several porters carried the luggage as Dougal led him to a line of buildings behind the massive shed. A dozen colonial style wooden buildings were connected together by the raised wooden walkway in front of them.

“Do your workers live in these? They look more like barracks than homes.”

Dougal did not answer, but opened a door and invited Tom to enter. The inside of the building looked like an empty warehouse.

“Put the trunks down here,” he ordered the porters. There was a desk and a couple of chairs in the middle of the room and he sank into the one behind the desk, waving Tom to take the other.

Once settled Dougal decided to answer Tom’s question.

“These buildings are for document storage and office work, but at this stage of the project they are pretty much empty. There’s a fort beside the river where the engineers and soldiers live. All the important work happens in the construction shed.”

Tom was curious about what work that might be, but right now there was a more important question.

“Why would Laura need rescuing?”

Dougal sighed. “I don’t know much more than you. You remember the Royal Commission into the death of my father?”

Tom nodded. He could not keep the bitterness out of his voice when he answered. “The one where you betrayed us? How could I forget?”

“Aye, well, that wasn’t all it seemed.” Dougal reached for a cut glass decanter that sat incongruously on the desk and poured scotch into two dusty glass tumblers. Tom shook his head when offered one. Dougal sipped at his.

“The Commission already had its answer before they started the investigation. The Scottish Members of Parliament, and particularly the Scottish Lords, would not allow my father to be found guilty of treason. I still find it hard to believe myself. On top of that, the Brotherhood saw the opportunity to get rid of Trelawney and reduce the power of MM3 in one fell swoop. Even the government wanted the Laird exonerated.”

Tom suspected that this was all true, but it didn’t make him feel any happier at Dougal’s behavior.

“That doesn’t excuse you betraying us. You accused Laura and me of sabotaging the reactatrons and causing the explosions. You accused us of mass murder.”

“I was under orders from someone I trust.”

“Hah, and who would that be?”

“Daisy.”

Tom took a moment to consider that. Then he reached over to the desk, took the glass of whiskey he had turned down and gulped the contents in one swallow. It proved an effort not to cough, as whatever the brown liquid in the decanter was, it was not any kind of scotch. It burned his throat and then his insides.

“She said I had to remain above reproach and that when offered a job abroad I should take it,” Dougal continued.

Daisy was a Precog, and much better at it than the grade Military Magic had given her. If she wanted Dougal here then she would have a good reason. Tom owed his life to Daisy’s precognitive talents and, more than that, he trusted her completely.

“And Laura?”

“Daisy said she would be assigned to look after Laura, but that the Empire would not tolerate her disobedience for much longer. She believed they would both be in need of rescue by the time we came for them.”

“She told you to bring me here?” Tom knew that Daisy sensed possible futures and could arrange things in the present so that some futures became more likely. He had seen that skill in action more than once. He also knew she wouldn’t tell them anything that would make the future she wanted less likely. In the past, that had resulted in telling them nothing at all.

“Aye, that’s my girl.”

“And she told you nothing else?” Dougal nodded and Tom grimaced. “Could you pour me another drink of whatever that is?”

 

The soldiers searched Laura’s room with destructive efficiency. Every single item of clothing and furniture was checked for the tell-tale signs of burning that would indicate that Laura had constructed a bind. When they found nothing the Sergeant in charge came over to her and looked apologetic.

“I am under orders to check all your clothing, Miss. Including that you are wearing now.”

Daisy was outraged. “Are you suggesting she strip naked in front of you?”

The sergeant gestured to the other soldiers. They left the room and shut the door behind them.

“You know how easy it would be for her to hide the evidence of a bind on her person, Agent Drew. I am under orders.”

“Then I will do it and inform you of the results.”

“Captain Trentwood has made it clear to me that I am not to allow that. He does not believe you to be objective. I must see for myself.”

Laura trembled with rage.

“I will not allow this,” Daisy said quietly. “Captain Trentwood exceeds his authority.”

The Sergeant shrugged. “If she will not do it voluntarily, I shall be forced to bring my men in to strip her.”

“I will not allow…”

“I will do it,” Laura said. “I do not wish to be pawed by the Sergeant’s men.”

The Sergeant looked at the ground. “I am sorry, Miss. My orders were to use the men to strip you. Captain Trentwood is not a gentleman, if you get my meaning, Miss. But I do have to check you or I’ll lose my stripes and will end up in the stockade.”

Laura began to disrobe, handing each of her garments in turn to the Sergeant, who inspected them diligently for signs of burning or for cloth cut from them. He kept his eyes on the clothes, but Laura knew this state of affairs would not last.

Finally, she shed her last undergarment and he checked it carefully. She kept her legs closed and used her arms and hands to cover herself.

“Are you satisfied now?” Daisy asked.

The Sergeant’s face took on a reddish hew. “If Miss Young could turn around?”

Laura spun so her back was to him.

“If Miss could stand with her legs apart and touch her toes. These are my orders, Miss, but there will be no invasion, whatever the Captain has ordered.

Daisy turned away in horror as Laura did as instructed.

The Sergeant turned his back on the two women. “You may get dressed now.”

Daisy helped Laura put on her clothes. Laura’s hands were trembling, but she kept any shake out of her voice as she addressed the Sergeant.

“I thank you for the courtesy of not following your orders to the letter and you have my gratitude. May I know your name?”

The Sergeant turned hesitantly and would not meet her eyes. “Sergeant Wainwright, Miss. If you were to lay charges against the Captain and myself I would fully understand, Miss. He was certain I would find the evidence to justify his actions. I am not a good liar, Miss. He would know if I had not carried out my orders and then he would have sent in my men to do it to you anyway.”

Laura nodded. “Thank you again, Sergeant Wainwright.”

He turned to leave. As he reached the door he stopped. “Purely unofficially, Miss. The men and I would like to thank you for what happened on the parade ground. It was well deserved and the memory will be cherished.” Having spoken his piece he fled the room.

Laura sat on the bed and began to cry. Daisy sat next to her and put an arm around her. “I am so sorry I couldn’t stop him.”

Laura shook her head, “I can stand what the Sergeant did. It humiliated him as much as me. It is Tom I am crying for. Will I ever see him again?”

“If my plans work out,” Daisy said softly.

Laura stopped crying the second she heard her friend’s words. “You have a plan? Why have you not told me before?”

“There are too many variables. I can’t tell you more without risking everything. The Brotherhood are behind all that has happened, but there are forces moving against them and we must have hope.”

Laura nodded with satisfaction. “That is all I need, Daisy. A little bit of hope.”

 

Sir Ernest Trelawney, former Director of MM3, walked into the lobby of its headquarters and strode over to the reception desk. The woman on duty looked up, saw who it was, and leapt to her feet.

“It is so good to see you again, Sir Ernest. Do you have an appointment?”

Sir Ernest smiled. “And it is wonderful to find you in such good health, Miss Talbot. I do not have an appointment, but I wonder if you could inform Sir Anthony of my desire to talk with him?”

Gladys Talbot nodded and left reception to inform MM3’s Director of Trelawney’s arrival. Sir Ernest took a seat and rested his hands on his walking stick as he waited for her to return. A telegraph boy entered the lobby and went to the reception desk, where he stood looking around impatiently.

“Excuse me, Sir. Do you know where the Education Department is? I have an urgent telegram for Doctor Smyth.”

Sir Ernest smiled. Boys delivering telegrams had a special status in London and could go almost anywhere without let or hindrance. Everybody knew they could get into trouble if they failed to deliver a telegram in good time. “Go up the stairs to the second floor and his office is the third on the left.”

The boy saluted and ran to the stairs. He ran past Gladys who was on her way down.

“Does that boy know where he’s going?” she asked Trelawney.

“I believe he does.”

“Sir Anthony can spare you five minutes. He is in your, I mean his, office. If you would like to make your own way?”

“Ah, but can you trust me, Miss Talbot?” Sir Ernest smiled.

“With my life, Sir Ernest, whatever that commission said about you.”

 

Sir Anthony Baxter was a big man. An unkind person would have said he was fat. Certainly he was sweating profusely when he greeted Sir Ernest in his outer office. As his secretary was present it was a necessary protocol to introduce him.

“This is my secretary, Arthur Harris. I brought him with me from MM1.”

Sir Ernest nodded as he shook hands with Baxter. The two men retreated to Baxter’s office. Trelawney was astonished at how little had been changed. It looked exactly the same as when he occupied it.

Baxter looked worried. “What can I do for you, old chap? Or is this a social visit? I understand you are getting married soon.”

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