Read Revenge of the Brotherhood (Book 3 in the Tom & Laura Series) Online
Authors: John Booth
The woman she portrayed really existed and left home when she was thirteen, heading for the bright lights of London. Like Camilla, Ingrid spoke fluent German, both having been taught by their mothers. Unlike Cam, Ingrid ended up as a prostitute plying the streets for trade. Paid a small stipend by MM3, Ingrid used her street name and never her real one, and so disappeared from sight.
The purely fictional Ingrid became embittered with the English and travelled to Austria to join the fight against the British Empire. Cam played her as feisty and a little bit whiney.
As the hour approached noon, Cam stepped though the carriages towards the buffet car. She affected a slow walk, as if bothered by the motion of the train, and took time to look into every compartment. Despite a sense of being watched she saw nothing suspicious. Nor did she see anybody as she ate her meal. If she was being followed, it was done discretely.
She complained about the wine to the waiter, even though it was totally acceptable. Even then, nobody showed undue interest. After waiting until the carriage was almost empty and only an aged nun remained at her seat, Cam returned to her compartment.
“Someone is following me, but they must be good,” she whispered in a disgruntled manner as she tried to doze. It was going to be a long journey.
The waiter moved up the train and gave the special knock at the door. He was let in by Annelise, who locked the door behind him.
“Well?” she asked impatiently.
“As you expected she made a lot of fuss about the wine, which was more than adequate. Then she waited in the carriage until everybody but a nun had left.”
“Staying in character and being cautious; that is good. But I wonder if it is her real character or the one she has adopted.”
She handed the waiter a large denomination coin. “Report back to me the next time she eats.” She unlocked the door and let the man out.
“So ‘e tell me where to find this lady and I’m following ’er ’ome tonight.”
Alice did not look pleased.
“She’s blonde an’ pretty? I ’ates ’er already.”
Edith Trenchard frowned at Alice’s diction. She didn’t know why the girl seemed incapable of speaking the Queen’s English.
“Trelawney is right about Mercury House. There are men everywhere doing nothing but watching everyone who passes by. You must be inconspicuous while you wait, Tricky. Stay well back when you go and look for shadows to hide in.”
“You can see it, even though you never bin there?” Tricky asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.
“You went to look at it this morning, and as it so happens, Alice asked me to keep an eye on you.”
Tricky turned on Alice. “Got your spies watching mi?”
“Only this morning, when you were late,” Alice said in a hurt voice.
Edith was an aberrant Farseer. She saw things far away clearly and could focus in on things that mattered to her or onto her friends. Her talent had come a long way in the months since they had been prisoners together in Glen Russell.
Tricky turned to Edith, “Can you see where they ain’t watching?”
Edith shook her head. “They make notes of anybody interesting. You got in four of their little books when you stood staring at the building.”
“That does it. I’m coming too,” Alice said firmly.
“’ows that gonner ’elp, you daft cow?”
“If they see’s us canoodlin’ they ain’t gonner pay us no never no mind.”
Tricky could see the logic in that. Seeing a couple of kids together in a dark corner cuddling would not raise suspicion, and they could stay like that for ages.
“The things I gotta do to ’elp a friend,” he said and sighed heavily.
Baxter called Harris into his inner sanctum and closed the door behind him. Harris noted the seriousness of his boss’s manner and said nothing. The safe was open and the painting covering it was propped up against the wall.
“The Scenario Blue folder has been taken from the safe.”
“But only you and I have the combination. Surely you are not suggesting...?”
“No, but I wanted to check that you hadn’t taken it for some other purpose.”
“It’s not incriminating. It is our job to investigate such matters.”
“But why was it taken?” Baxter shook his fist as though trying to use it to crack the problem. “And nothing else.”
“Perhaps you misplaced it, or I did?”
Baxter looked sharply at Harris. “Did you?”
“Not that I can remember. We need it to give credibility for our actions, to serve as a justification. Is there a copy?”
Baxter nodded. “In the archives, but I can’t get a copy made, at least not now.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s too close to the event and I would have to explain what happened to the original. The Director of MM3 is not God. The security people would become involved.”
“Do we call it off?”
Baxter shook his head. “The Brotherhood would kill us for suggesting it. After the mess in Scotland, they need this to restore their credibility with the membership. And in any case, our contribution is only a small part of it.”
“Who do you suspect?”
“Trelawney, it’s always the incorruptible Trelawney, even when he’s not here.”
“I’m so excited,” Laura confessed. “I haven’t shopped for clothes since before I met Tom.”
Daisy smiled, she felt the same excitement as her friend. It was always good to go shopping, and in this case, there was a vital extra element. If she failed today, the whole elaborate future she had planned would fall apart. She was also relying on Tom and Dougal, but all they had to do was follow their respective natures. She hoped Tom wasn’t going too far, but on the other hand, a man should have some experience before marriage.
The carriage bumped along the Oxford Road to stop outside a store with an impressive sign. This was the coming thing, a department store as they were known. It was the only one in Reading and already it was attracting attention to the county town.
“It feels so good to be out of those barracks and back among ordinary people,” Laura said, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “Do you think they will have the latest fashions?”
“There is only one way to find out,” Daisy replied.
The correct way for a lady to enter a store is slowly, waiting for a gentleman to open a door for them, but Daisy and Laura ran inside as if they were naughty children.
It took a long time to find an appropriate dress for Laura. As a Class A her status in society was close to nobility. Nobody would officially know who she was, and yet everyone in the church would know. Her dress had to match her status and her personality and those two things were hardly complementary.
Daisy found a dress without effort. She possessed a natural beauty and was no longer as gaunt as she’d been when Laura first met her. Almost anything would hang well on her.
Laura’s dress required alteration. While she was engaged with the seamstress, Daisy slipped away to another part of the store selling writing materials for the discerning gentleman. A little old man, stooped with age, ushered her into the storeroom as soon as she arrived. He checked to see that no one had seen them enter before he closed the door.
“Mr. Timothy, it is good to see you again.”
“Do you have the money?” he asked eagerly.
“And you the goods I desire?”
“Better than that, I have a new invention. A fountain pen that can take the special inks Spellbinders use. For the first time they will be able to write as the common folk do.” He offered Daisy a pen.
“Unscrew the end. It uses a new seal which prevents the ink from drying on the nib.”
Daisy did as she was told. The nib was gold, something she had never seen before. Mr. Timothy grabbed a sheet of paper and put it on the table in front of her.
“Write, write.”
As she wrote, copper ink flowed onto the paper without blotting. This was certainly an extraordinary pen.
“I have provided a small phial of ink. That plus what is in the pen should meet your needs.”
“And paper?”
He opened a brown envelope and slid out a sheet of paper. When Daisy touched it she was amazed at how it felt, thin and yet very strong. It reminded her of something, but she couldn’t think what.
“Pure linen, much stronger than cotton or paper-based products,” Mr. Timothy explained. “More like banknotes.”
“But will it last?” Daisy asked.
“Military Magic is moving over to it. Short of writing on copper you can’t get much stronger. They would have moved earlier except it is highly expensive.”
“How much do I owe you?” Daisy asked.
“Twenty pounds.”
That was a laborer’s wage for a year and more. Daisy handed over four five pound banknotes without a word of protest.
“There’s only five sheets of paper, mind,” he warned her.
“That will have to be enough.”
Tricky and Alice made their way to Soho after leaving school. Tricky used the clocks on various buildings to keep track of the time. He worried that they were going to be late and the clocks did not reassure him, with differences as big as fifteen minutes between them. It was certainly half past five, but it could be as late as quarter to six.
“Slow down, mi feet are killin’ me,” Alice protested. “Mi new shoes are agony.”
“We ain’t got the time.”
“They all’as comes out late, them office workers.”
Tricky disagreed and dragged Alice along as fast as she would allow. It took another ten minutes to reach Mercury House. He stayed on the other side of the road and pulled Alice into the entrance to a small door. Putting his arms around her, he squeezed her to him.
“Not so ’ard. It ain’t a wrestling contest.”
“’ow would I know? I ain’t never canoodled a girl before.”
Alice pulled Tricky’s hands off her. “You ‘as to do it gentle like.” She kissed him on the cheek and Tricky wondered if it was all right to wipe away the saliva as it was a very wet kiss.
“Put your ‘ands ‘ere,” she suggested, moving his hands till they cupped her bottom. “You can squeeze a bit if you wants.”
To his surprise Tricky discovered he did want. It was pleasurable to pull her forward so her groin pressed hard against his.
“I can tells you like it,” Alice said and giggled. She had her arms between their bodies to prevent her face being pulled into Tricky’s chest. They shared this small alcove with the local pigeons and one landed on her back giving her a push.
Tricky’s attention wandered back to the main door of Mercury House. He maneuvered Alice so he could keep watch over her shoulder. A steady stream of people were leaving the building, splitting to right and left as they made their way home. The women he saw wore hats and Tricky wondered how he would recognize the woman he was looking for among all the others.
“You is supposed to show me some attention,” Alice complained. A bird tried to land on top of them and she waved it away.
Tricky moved one hand to her head and tilted it as he kissed her on the mouth, keeping a careful watch on the door across the road as he did so. Alice struggled for a few seconds and then relaxed as she found she could breathe through her nose. Both sets of lips were firmly closed as neither participant wished to do anything so disgusting as touch tongues.
They stopped kissing and moved closer, cheek to cheek. Tricky whispered in Alice’s ear. “I can see the people coming out, but the ladies is wearin’ ’ats.”
“Seen any pretty ones yet?”
“Not as ’ow I’d call pretty. Not like you.”
Alice used her hands to force his head back and kissed him again on the mouth, this time more passionately.
“What was that for?” Tricky asked when she finally let him up for air.
“Nothin’”
That was the moment he spotted the women they were looking for. Despite her hat, there was no mistaking hair so blonde it was close to white, nor how attractive she was, despite the frown on her face.
“We ‘as to go.” Tricky disentangled himself from Alice and took her hand. He dragged her from the door towards the road.
What happened next was about as likely as being struck by lightning. A pigeon landed on Tricky’s hand and he instinctively shook it off. Alice opened her mouth to protest the violent shake and got a mouth full of pigeon wing for her trouble. The sooty feathers tasted awful.
Alice was not the sort of girl that screamed at the slightest thing, but this was just too much. She screamed in panic. Because her mouth was blocked she screamed mentally, broadcasting a cry of panic that shook everybody within a hundred yards of her.
Andrea Wright felt the telepathic force of the scream like a physical blow and for a split second thought that something terrible had happened to her sister. Then the shock of a third mind in her own hit her. Such a thing was impossible.
The security men watching the street went to full alert and pulled out their pistols.
“Back in the building!” someone shouted and those closest the doors crushed against each other trying to get back in. Andrea followed them, glancing from side to side, trying to find where the scream had come from.
“They’ve spotted us,” Tricky said in a panic. In point of fact, they hadn’t, but when he and Alice started to run, they did. Three armed men ran towards them, blocking every way except for down an alley. Tricky and Alice turned and ran for their lives. Alice couldn’t run very fast in her shoes. She was yards behind Tricky when one of the men shouted at them.
“Stop or I’ll shoot.”
Alice stopped, as did Tricky. They turned to find all three men stood rigid, their pistols pointing straight at them. Tricky started to raise his hands.
Alice screamed telepathically, but it wasn’t out of fear, and this time it was accurately targeted. The men dropped their weapons, put their hands to their ears and fell to the ground as consciousness fled.
Tricky walked up to Alice and took her hand.
“I forgot you can do that.”
“I didn’t,” Alice said. The two made good their escape at a walk, Alice limping slightly.
Daisy felt probabilities shift like an earthquake. Futures that had been almost certain became indistinct and unlikely. She had to work to stop from vomiting at the dining table. She was in the Officer’s Mess and it would have been highly undignified.
“Is everything all right, Agent Drew?” Captain Trentwood asked politely.
Daisy took a shuddering breath as the world settled to take up a new set of futures. “I will be fine. A touch of the vapors, nothing more. If you gentlemen will give me leave, I shall return to my quarters.”
Nobody said a word in protest so Daisy left the mess and headed to her room to try and figure out what had just happened.
Most Precogs, even the most powerful, have dreams that might come true. The more intense the event, the closer it is tied to the Precog, the more likely they are to see it and the clearer the vision.
Daisy saw scenes during the day and night, snapshots of possible futures that related to her friends. She had seen a blurry, but intense event, that cut across all her friends’ timelines as the hearings started. This event would bring death and destruction on an industrial scale unless someone could find a way to prevent it. The only thing she was sure of was that the Royal Family was involved, along with Trelawney.
The brightest futures for Dougal all required him to go to America. He would come to her when she needed him most. Tom would be in India when Ebb died unless she sent him to Dougal, in which case Tom and Dougal would come home together.
That was the plan except that now they would not come at all. The most likely future she saw for them was death in an attack by natives. Images of Ebb’s funeral slipped unbidden into her head.
If Tom had come for Ebb and Dougal for her, then Laura would survive. Now she saw Laura’s death in nearly all the possible futures. In one version she was shot wearing the dress she bought for the wedding, in most of the others she was hanged or shot by soldiers. Daisy’s future mirrored Laura’s, though her fate was usually imprisonment for the rest of her life.
All the good futures seemed to have gone. Daisy lay back on her bed and wept.
Arnold wondered why he had been summoned this time. Despite staying and listening to Trelawney’s conversation with Tricky he was no wiser as to what was going on, so there were no secrets to give away even if he wanted to.
At least the morning traffic had been kind and he was early.
Harris ushered him into Baxter’s inner office.
“What do you know about a girl called Alice Short?” Baxter asked as he entered the room. There was no social chitchat and no offer to shake his hand.
“She was one of the children kidnapped and sold to Lord McBride.” Arnold waited for the outburst and curt denial that always followed accusing the late Lord McBride of any crime. It didn’t happen.
“What else?”
“She can broadcast telepathically to non telepaths. I believe she is unique in that talent.”
“You became friends with the child?”
“She was more Tom and Laura’s friend than mine. They saw more of her than I did.”
“You know she is in London, staying at the school we set up for the freaks?”
Arnold was shocked at Baxter’s language. Trelawney would never have said such a thing. “I’m aware there is a school for children with aberrant talents.”
“Have you any idea why she would be interested in Military Magic’s communication centre?” Harris asked impatiently.
Arnold made an effort to keep his face guileless.
“Do you have indigestion man?” Baxter asked. “Why are you pulling faces?”
Arnold tapped his stomach, “Sorry sir, I believe the egg I had for breakfast may have been off.”
There was a pause.
“Well answer the question, Tompkins.”
“Sorry sir, I’ve forgotten what it was.”
Baxter sighed. “Have you any idea why she was at the communications centre?”
“I did not know we had a communications centre, sir.”
Baxter threw his hands up. “Go, leave us. You can’t help.”
“MM1 will keep the telepaths locked in the building so no one can get at them,” Harris said, ignoring Arnold though he was not yet through the door.
“If Short is anything like Tompkins we will not have anything to worry about,” Baxter replied.
Arnold fumed as he left the room. Everyone assumed he was hopeless and yet he had helped save the day at Glen Russell. Trelawney did not fully trust him and now the senior officers in MM3 were not even waiting for him to leave the room before they insulted him. He wanted to show them all, only there was nothing he could do.
Daisy felt possible futures shudder as Arnold left MM3. It was as if something unexpected had almost happened and then changed its mind.
“Alice Short is to go to the Headmaster’s office,” Winslow Becket intoned as he read the message the Headmaster’s secretary brought him. “And where do you think you are going, boy?” This to Tricky, who had stood up as soon as Alice’s name was mentioned.
“He wants me as well, sir. He just does not know it yet,” Tricky’s attempt to speak the Queen’s English drew a few gasps and a smattering of applause from the other children. This died away quickly as Becket’s eyes swept the room, eager for his next victim.
“Well, Mister Hart. Had anybody else said that to me I would have thrashed them until they begged for mercy, but as I am all too well aware of the amour that passes between you, I think you may well be right. You may go with Miss Short as you asked so nicely.”
Tricky grinned before fleeing the room, actually getting out of the door ahead of Alice though she was closer.
“This will be about those men,” Alice said, trying but not succeeding in keeping the tremble out of her voice.
“We don’t know nothin’ about it,” Tricky said quickly.
“It’s easy for you to act stupid. It comes natural.”
“Just a girl and ’er bo. Out seein’ the sights.”
Alice grimaced. “Let me do the talking, Tricky.”
As they feared, two men were in the Headmaster’s office with the Headmaster. Alice recognized one of the men as the man who had yelled at her to stop. Dr Glyn looked extremely harassed.
“That’s the boy that was with her,” the man said.
“Ah, David. So you two must know why you have been summoned.”
“’e tried to rob mi an’ Alice. ’im an’ ’is two ’complices,” Tricky shouted, completely ignoring Alice’s advice. “’as ’im arrested, sir.”
“Mr. Warren is an agent for MM1, David. He can arrest us, not the other way around,” Dr Glyn said, though there was a glimmer of a smile playing on his lips. “Are you claiming this man and his fellow agents assaulted you?”
“Salted us and poured vinegar on top as well,” Alice put in. “We was minding our own business, when they started running at us with guns out an’ everythin’.”