D. Mitchell - The King of Terrors

‘Trust me, they know. Walls have ears and all that. You don’t know who you can trust. I believe it was the same too for the other professor, Baxter. What he’d been about to publish — A Return to Eden — was something that apparently lifted the veil on the hitherto secret existence of the Church and their activities. How he came across the details we’ll never know, but he paid with his life. It wasn’t suicide, I can say that much.’

‘So what exactly is this Church?’ Stafford asked. ‘Never heard of it.’

‘Hardly surprising. But its operations are global and it has some loose affiliation with more prominent, established terrorist factions, operating mainly, as far as we can tell, from roving cells in the Middle East and in Europe. But Intel’s been patchy to say the least. Trying to pin it down has been hampered by the fact that it seems to have all the right friends in all the right places. Trails go stone cold, barriers go up, and just as we think we have got a bite the line goes slack, or snaps altogether. However, in the last six months we uncovered a plan to use more extreme terrorist measures…’

‘Planes into buildings extreme?’

Styles looked at him thoughtfully and shook his head. ‘Similar in that it’s driven by religious extremism, but different approach. The threat’s biological, we think.’

‘What type of biological?’

‘Let’s say a very nasty kind. In truth we’re still unsure. It could all be a smokescreen to hide something else. Our sources have been flashing red lights for quite a while, but it’s been all but impossible to pin down where or when, and what’s more, why. Even the most extreme of terrorist organisations have a defined goal, a reason, no matter how twisted. But with the Church — or CEB, as we call it in the trade — it’s different. It’s almost as though it’s killing for killing’s sake. Mass killing being the operative words here. What’s driving the killing isn’t clear. But if there really is a genuine biological threat to the UK, then it could be murder on a scale never seen before. Forget world wars; this could produce the same body count in a matter of weeks, not years. Then there’s the organisation’s involvement with the Chinese. The country has been buying up or heavily investing in resource rights the world over — water, oil, gas, copper, iron — particularly in third world and developing countries. In part they say it’s to work with these countries, aid development, but cynics would say it’s to get a foothold in acquiring the resources that at some time in the not too distant future will become precious to every country the world over. They’d have immense control. Now what we want to know is how could CEB benefit from all this? Why are they enmeshed with the Chinese? One theory is that, at its most extreme, the CEB orthodoxy seeks to wipe out every person on the entire planet except for a chosen few, return it to a pre-industrial, pre-Fall, Eden-like state. Think about it; if you have access to most of the planet’s valuable resources — resources that made and mark out the modern world they so despise and want to bring to its knees — you can ensure no one uses it again. Destroy it, pollute it, whatever. There would be no returning to the modern world as we know it.’

‘That’s sheer bloody lunacy!’

‘In their minds it’s entirely logical. That’s a worse-case scenario, of course.’

Stafford grunted. ‘Why is it I’m not reassured? OK, so the murdered Polish woman, where does she fit into all this?’

‘It’s not necessarily about the woman; it’s the symbol. It’s mediaeval in origin and has been strongly associated with CEB. We were routinely monitoring terrorist activity in Pakistan when video surveillance threw up the same symbol painted onto a wall that also turns up out of the blue in a Manchester flat. So naturally we make a connection. Given that we’re already monitoring embryonic cells based in Manchester it made sense to have someone inside, on the case. For your information Maloney doesn’t know who I am. His actions today, the way the case is being closed down is highly suspicious, don’t you think? Part of the reason I’m here.’

Stafford gave a gasp. ‘What are you saying? That Superintendent Maloney is in on something, maybe trying to cover something up? Look, I hate the guy’s guts, but do you know what you’re suggesting here?’

‘You have to keep this quiet, Stafford. Let him have his head. Go along with things. ‘Lives depend on it. Many, many lives. So as far as today is concerned, we never had this conversation, understand?’

He pushed fingers through his hair, shaking his head. ‘Jesus!’ he said. ‘Things are never simple. Where do we go from here?’

‘The Polish guy back at the station, he’s no guiltier of murdering that woman than you or I. But I’ve seen this before; if they want him guilty they’ll find him guilty. Whatever they want to stick will stick. That man Rayne, the third member of the Lunar Club, he knows more than he’s letting on. I’ve got people looking into him. Soon there won’t be anything he can hide from me.’

‘But Maloney — are you saying he’s with this CEB?’

‘Many people are with CEB. You just don’t know who, which is why from now on you have to be real careful. So you’ve got to let it go, leave it to me. You understand, Stafford?’

He eyed him. Hit the play button and Bon Jovi’s rock guitar chords growled aggressively. ‘Cut the Stafford, Styles; it’s sir to you!’

On closer examination she was older than he thought. She looked mid-thirties maybe. The beginnings of lines spreading out from her eyes. Tired eyes, Gareth thought. Deeply troubled.

‘So who are you really working for?’ said Gareth. ‘Who is Caroline Cody?’

She screwed her nose up slightly. ‘I told you, I work for Pipistrelle.’

‘Oh yeah, the bat,’ he sneered. ‘Come on, where’d you learn all this gun stuff?’

‘The hard way. I served in Afghanistan.’

‘That tells me something but not a lot. You with the military now?’

‘No, and that’s all I’m going to tell you on the subject. I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘That’s not good enough.’

‘Well tough titty!’ she snapped. Then shook her head, leaning back against the worktop with her arms folded. ‘Sit down, Gareth.’ She waited till he gave in to her stare and sat down. ‘First, you have got to believe me when I tell you to trust me, no matter what happens. You got that?’

‘Seems everyone wants me to do that. What choice do I have?’

‘Secondly, I know where your sister is.’

‘What? Where?’

‘You’ll meet her very soon.’

‘Well what are we waiting for? Take me to her now. Like you said, Tremain will be here soon and I’m guessing we don’t want to be here when he arrives.’

‘It’s not as straightforward as that, Gareth. You’ll get to see her alright, and soon, don’t worry about that. Thing is it’s time you knew where you stand in the grand scheme of things.’

‘No shit,’ he said.

‘It’s certainly an interesting situation you’re in,’ she said. ‘On the one hand you have Lambert-Chide who wants to dissect you in the name of science, and Doradus who wants to do the same in the name of religious fundamentalism. But at least Lambert-Chide wants you alive, for now, which is one reason you’re still breathing now, otherwise Camael would have done the nasty on you and you’d be lying in a pile of mouldering back in Godstone. Either way, it’s not good news for you. Rock and a hard place, and all that.’

‘OK, so let’s take this one step at a time. Start with Camael. Why does he want my sister and me dead?’