‘A set-up. This entire thing. A set-up. I suppose Mo Digence was working for you too?’
‘Yes. Pex and Chips too, even if they didn’t know it. You would never have come here if I’d suggested it.’
‘But how? How did you do this? It’s not possible.’
Artemis glanced at the monitors. ‘Obviously it is. I knew you would be waiting for me in the Spiro Needle vault. After that, all I had to do was use your own hatred of Phonetix to lure you here, out of your environment.’
‘If I go down, so do you.’
‘Incorrect. I was never here. The tapes will prove it.’
‘But you are here!’ roared Spiro, his nerves shot. His whole body vibrated and spittle sprayed from his lips in a wide arc. ‘Your dead body will prove it. Give me the gun, Arno. I’m going to shoot him.’
Blunt could not hide his disappointment, but he did as he was told.
Spiro pointed the weapon with shaky hands. Pex and Chips stepped rapidly to one side. The boss was not known for his marksmanship.
‘You have taken everything from me,’ he shouted. ‘Everything.’
Artemis was strangely calm. ‘You don’t understand, Jon. It’s like I told you. I am not here.’ He paused for breath. ‘And one more thing.
About my name — Artemis — you were right. In London, it is generally a female name, after the Greek goddess of archery. But every now and then a male comes along with such a talent for hunting that he earns the right to use the name. I am that male. Artemis the hunter. I hunted you.’
And just like that, he disappeared.
Holly had been hovering above Spiro and Co. all the way from the Spiro Needle to the Phonetix building. She had got permission to enter the facility minutes earlier when Juliet had called to enquire about the public tours.
Juliet had put on her best cutesy voice for the security guide.
‘Hey, mister, is it OK if I bring my invisible friend?’
‘Sure it is, honey,’ replied the guide. ‘Bring your security blanket too, if it makes you happy.’
They were in.
Holly hovered at ceiling level, following Artemis’s progress below.
The Mud Boy’s plan was fraught with risk. If Spiro decided to shoot him in the Needle, then it was all over.
But no, just as Artemis predicted, Spiro had opted to gloat for as long as possible, basking in the glow of his own demented genius. But, of course, it wasn’t his own genius. It was Artemis’s. The boy had orchestrated this whole operation from beginning to end. It had even been his idea to mesmerize Pex and Chips. It was crucial that they plant the idea to invade Phonetix.
Holly was ready when the lift door opened. She had her weapon charged and targets selected. But she couldn’t go. Wait for the signal.
Artemis dragged it out. Melodramatic to the end. And then, just when Holly was about to disregard her orders and start blasting, he spoke.
‘I am that male. Artemis the hunter. I hunted you.’
Artemis the hunter. The signal.
Holly squeezed the manual throttle on her wing rig and descended,
stopping short a metre from the ground. She clipped Artemis on to a retractable cord on her Moonbelt, then dropped a sheet of cam foil in front of him. To everybody in the room, it would seem as though the boy had disappeared.
‘Up we go,’ she said, though Artemis could not hear her, and opened the throttle wide. In under a second they were nestled safely among the cables and ducts that ran along the ceiling.
Below them, Jon Spiro lost his mind.
Spiro blinked. The boy had gone! Just gone! It couldn’t be. He was Jon Spiro! Nobody outsmarted Jon Spiro! He turned to Pex and Chips, gesticulating wildly with the gun.
‘Where is he?’
‘Huh?’ said the bodyguards, in perfect unison. Unrehearsed.
‘Where is Artemis Fowl? What did you do with him?’
‘Nothing, Mister Spiro. We were just standing here playing the shoulder game.’
‘Fowl said you were working for him. So hand him over.’
Pex’s brain was churning. This was an operation akin to a food blender mixing concrete.
‘Careful, Mister Spiro, guns are dangerous. Especially the end with the hole.’
‘This isn’t over, Artemis Fowl,’ Spiro roared at the ceiling. ‘I will find you. I will never give up. You’ve got Jon Spiro’s word on it. My word!’
He began to fire random shots, blowing holes in monitors, vents and conduits. One even came within a metre of Artemis.
Pex and Chips were not quite sure what was going on, but decided that it might be a good idea to join in the fun. They pulled out their weapons and began shooting up the lab.
Blunt did not get involved. He considered his employment contract terminated. There was no way out of this for Spiro — it was every man for himself. He crossed to the wall’s metal panelling and began to dismantle it with a power screwdriver. A section dropped from its casing, behind it a five-centimetre cable space, then solid concrete. They were trapped.
Behind him, the lift door dinged.
Juliet was crouched in the lift shaft.
‘We’re clear,’ said Holly in her earpiece. ‘But Spiro is shooting up the lab.’
Juliet frowned. Her principal was in danger. ‘Knock them out with the Neutrino.’
‘I can’t. If Spiro is unconscious when the police arrive, he could claim a frame-up.’
‘OK. I’m going in.’
‘Negative. Wait for SWAT.’
‘No. You take out the weapons. I’ll handle the rest.’
Mulch had given Juliet a bottle of dwarf rock polish. She poured a little puddle on the lift roof and it dissolved like fat on a pan. Juliet hopped into the carriage, crouching low in case Blunt decided to put a few rounds into the lift.
‘On three.’
‘Juliet.’
‘I’m going on three.’
‘OK.’
Juliet reached up to the door-open button. ‘One.’ Holly drew her Neutrino, locking all four targets into her visor’s targeting system.
‘Two.’ She unshielded for accuracy, the vibration would throw her aim right off. For a few seconds she would have to hide behind the foil with Artemis.
‘Three.’
Juliet pressed the button.
Holly squeezed off four shots.
Artemis had less than a minute to make his move. Less than a minute while Holly targeted and disarmed Spiro and Co. The circumstances were hardly ideal — screaming, gunfire and general mayhem. But then again, what better time to implement the final step in this stage of the plan? A very vital step.
The second Holly unshielded to fire, Artemis scrolled out a perspex keyboard from the C Cube’s base and began to type. In seconds, he had hacked into Spiro’s bank accounts — all thirty-seven of them, in institutions from the Isle of Man to the Cavmans. The various account numbers locked into place. He had access to each secret fund.
The Cube quickly ran a tot on the total funds: 2.8 billion US dollars, not counting the contents of various safety deposit boxes, which could not be touched over the Net. 2.8 billion dollars. Plenty to restore the Fowl’s status as one of the top five richest Irish families.
Just as he was about to complete the transaction Artemis remembered his father’s words. His father, returned to him by the fairy folk. .
. . And what about you, Arty? Will you make the journey with me?
When the moment comes will you take your chance to be a hero?. .’
Did he really need billions of dollars?
Of course I need it. Aurum potestas est. Gold is power.
Really? Will you take your chance to be a hero? To make a difference?
Because he could not groan aloud, Artemis rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. Well, if he was going to be a hero, he would be a well paid one. He quickly deducted a ten per cent finder’s fee from the 2.8 billion, then sent the rest to Amnesty International. He made the transaction irreversible, in case he weakened later on.
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