Johnny O'Brien - Day of Deliverance

I never wanted to put you in this position or to expose you to all you have experienced. However, I live in hope that we can one day meet and that you will join me in my mission.

Dad

Jack stared at the letter in stunned silence. It all came together in his head — the strange books in the tower… the man on the track…

“Your dad… he’s been here ?” Angus said, incredulously.

“Yeah. And I think that was the guy we nearly ran down. I thought I sort of vaguely recognised him. He was running away…”

“From what?”

“From just about everyone, I think.”

Suddenly, in the distance they heard a faint mechanical whirring. Jack and Angus peered out from the front of the fire tower in the direction of the noise.

“And probably from that thing…”

The whirring rapidly crescendoed into a pounding whup, whup, whup as, below them, a large helicopter skimmed the tops of the trees and headed up towards the fire tower. In seconds, the helicopter was hovering right above them. The noise was deafening and it shook the wooden structure of the tower to its foundations. The pilot circled once before descending, the thrashing rotor blades throwing up a maelstrom of dust and debris. Finally, it touched down on a flat patch of ground near the tower and the pilot cut the engine. Jack and Angus opened the door of the cabin. Speeding along the forest track they could see three Land Rovers driving in convoy. As the noise from the helicopter engine subsided and the Land Rovers pulled up near the tower, Jack could hear loud barking from the back of the vehicles. Dogs.

Two figures stepped down from the helicopter. They crouched low to avoid the rotor blades that were still spinning at a dizzying speed. One was a tall man in his forties with fine features. He had an air of distinction and authority about him. It was Councillor Inchquin. The Councillor was Chairman of VIGIL and oversaw all its operations. Next to him was another tall figure — slimmer than Inchquin with a bald head fringed with thinning wisps of grey hair. By day he was Soonhope High’s headmaster — the Rector — and he was still wearing his trademark black gown. The Rector was VIGIL’s second in command.

Mr Belstaff and Mr Johnstone, the school games teachers, who also formed part of VIGIL’s security and response team, stepped from the leading Land Rover. All members of VIGIL had day jobs that belied their second life as key members of the VIGIL network. The four men converged on Jack and Angus who stood nervously at the bottom of the fire tower.

“Is he in there?” the Rector said, aggression in his voice.

“He’s gone.” Jack replied.

“Damn.” Inchquin hissed. “No sign at all?”

“He left this letter.” Jack handed the letter they had found inside to the Rector who scanned it quickly.

“Well — it confirms the message we received earlier,” the Rector said. “You saw nothing else?”

Jack was torn. The dogs cooped up in the Land Rovers were in a frenzy. Was Jack really going to admit that he and Angus had nearly run down someone they thought to be his father, only for VIGIL to release a pack of hounds on him in some brutal manhunt?

The thought had not even crossed Angus’s mind. “We think we might have seen him.” He nodded down the hill. “But I don’t think you’ll find him now.”

Inchquin looked at Jack sympathetically. “Sorry, Jack — we have to try. He’s too important just to let go.” He turned towards Belstaff and Johnstone. “Take the other men and the dogs — see if you can track him down. He might not have got far. Hurry.”

“What’s going on, Sir, how did you know he would be here?” Jack said, “… and… what does the letter from Dad mean ?”

“We intercepted your mobile message. And then the tracker alarm indicated you were exiting the Soonhope safe zone. Sorry, Jack — you know we can’t take any chances.” The Rector waved the letter in the air. “And this letter basically means trouble. We will explain back at HQ.” He nodded at the helicopter. “You need to come with us. We have very little time.”

“Hey — what about my bike?” Angus said.

“The men will take care of it. I can assure you we have much more important business to attend to. Now, let’s go.”

The sun was in the west and hanging low in the sky. Angus and Jack peered from the helicopter as it swooped in above Soonhope High’s extensive playing fields. Jack was pretty sure no one had arrived at school in quite such style before. Pity there was nobody there to see it. They had a bird’s-eye view of the austere Victorian school building which sat in secluded grounds some way out of the town. Until ten years ago it had been empty. It was then redeveloped by an endowment from a charitable trust, which they now knew, of course, had been a front for VIGIL. Since its purchase, the building had spawned a number of modern appendages around its Victorian core: the Science block and the gym and also the theatre, of course, where Jack would be appearing in Hamlet in two weeks’ time. It all seemed very normal. Just like all the other schools in the Borders, against which Angus regularly played rugby. There was one difference. Soonhope High housed the most advanced technology known to man: a working Taurus. A time machine. As a result, the site had tighter security than a US nuclear missile base. But it was completely unobtrusive. And that was the idea. Only a select few knew of the astonishing secret within the school walls.

The helicopter touched down and Jack, Angus, the Rector and Inchquin climbed out.

“Keep your heads down,” warned the Rector.

In the distance, two familiar figures stood waiting to welcome them — their old friends, Tony Smith and Gordon MacFarlane. They waited at one of the school’s side entrances. Tony took up almost the entire doorway. Gordon stood beside him. He was shorter but still built like a tank. Officially, they were the school janitors. But Jack and Angus had learned their true identity six months before. Along with Belstaff and Johnstone, they were part of VIGIL’s elite security squad.

“Gentlemen, please escort these two through Entrance B to the Situation Room. We will join you shortly.”

“An escort? Good.” Angus replied. “You two should have blue flashing lights on your heads.”

“That’s funny, Mr Jud. Look,” Gordon clutched his stomach with both hands, “I’m in stitches.”

The Rector scowled. “Gentlemen, I would advise less levity. We have an extremely serious situation here. Do I make myself clear?”

Gordon looked at his toes, sheepishly. “Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

Jack and Angus followed Tony and Gordon into the old Victorian part of the school.

“Right, here we are,” Tony announced.

They had reached a store cupboard halfway along one of the main corridors and Tony proceeded to take a large set of keys from his belt, jangling them loudly as he searched for the right one.

“Isn’t that a bit low tech for VIGIL?”

“Now, son,” Tony replied in a hushed voice, “you know better than to mention that name in an open corridor, even if no one else is here. Anyway, it’s all part of our image. You’re not supposed to see all the high-tech stuff.”

Tony located the key, inserted it into the lock and opened the door. The cupboard smelled of, well… school. That stale, dusty smell of textbooks, old bits of computer equipment and stationery. Tony reached inside his pocket and pulled out a thin piece of plastic, a bit like a pocket calculator. He gently pressed a button on the device and the cupboard door closed automatically.

“That looks more like it,” Angus said, knowingly.