Johnny O'Brien - Day of the Assassins

“It’s disappointing, because my foot still hurts from where you impaled it…” Gordon added.

“Never mind that. Anyway, rules, as they say, is rules. So we’d better get going.” Tony looked up at the sky, “At least the weather doesn’t look like it will turn.”

Jack didn’t understand why, having tried to assault him back at the control room and aboard Dreadnought , Tony and Gordon were now attempting to be nice. He frowned suspiciously, “So you’re not going to harm us? No more injections? What’s happening?”

“You’re safe, son. That’s all you need worry about. The Rector will explain everything.”

A million questions rushed into Jack’s head. “The Rector but…? How did you get here anyway? And where are we going?”

Tony tapped his breast pocket knowingly, “With time travel you can go anywhere… any time.”

“When it decides to work…” Gordon added grumpily.

Tony ignored him. “Save your energy lad. You’ll need it.” He half turned, and gestured down towards the glacier and the wilderness beyond. “Let’s just concentrate on getting off this mountain, first.” Then he shook his head and said, “Oh, I nearly forgot. I’m afraid that you will need to hand it over.”

“Hand what over?”

“The time phone, of course. Can’t have you gallivanting around space and time. No end to the trouble you’ll cause. Have caused. Once you’re debriefed, we’ll get you back home…” he added with a rueful smile, “Safely. Don’t you worry about that.” He put out his hand, “If you please.”

Jack rummaged in his pocket and fished out his time phone. He clutched onto it for a moment, then reluctantly dropped it into Tony’s vast leathery hand.

“Thank you, lad. We will put that one safely away with ours.”

Tony and Gordon roped Jack and the professor together and they made their way down the edge of the glacier. Eventually, it gave way to steep moraine fields. They picked their way through until they reached the tree line. A gentle breeze hissed through the fir canopy as they followed an old trapping trail. Later on, the forest opened onto a large expanse of high pasture, an Almen , and for the first time the group was rewarded with breathtaking views of the valley far below. It was a pristine wilderness of dark green firs interspersed with pasture land, guarded by towering granite walls. Along the valley sides they could see the shimmering silver threads of at least three plunging waterfalls.

Jack had been in the mountains before. Last year his mum had let him go on the school skiing trip. But that had been nothing like this. It had been busy: lots of people, the mechanical whirring of lifts, barging in queues, the slopes dotted with people in ant trails all competing to find the best way down. But here, there was nobody. The air was champagne clear; the greens were somehow greener and the sky bluer — beyond empty and beyond silent.

They had been going for five hours, and even with regular breaks and provisions from Tony and Gordon, Jack was exhausted. At last, they emerged onto the broad valley floor. Ahead of them was a river that wound its way lazily through the fields. It looked quite deep in places, even though the spring thaw was well past. About three kilometres away they could see a small town, with the rounded spire of a chapel peeking above the tiled rooftops. Slightly beyond this, a craggy outcrop jutted out from the side of the valley, rising to perhaps two hundred metres, maybe more. A castle had been built high up on the exposed lump of black rock. It had narrow windows like slits and at least three sub turrets with conical roofs projecting from high stone sides. It dominated the valley.

As Jack wearily craned his head up at the castle, it slowly dawned on him that he could not see any possible way to approach it. Perhaps there was a route from above, where the rocky outcrop joined the main cliff face? Or perhaps there was a winding track that approached the building from the rear — currently hidden from their view? Then he spotted it. Rising silently from the village ahead of them, a red box magically appeared and rose at a steep angle upwards towards the castle: a cable car. And sure enough, he could just make out the thin wire that looped gracefully from the village right up to the castle. The village was strangely deserted when they finally reached it. They entered the small cable car station. After a short wait, they boarded the return cable car, which transported them smoothly upwards and gently delivered them on to the precipitous landing gantry, high up in the castle wall.

Tony and Gordon led Jack and the professor from the landing gantry, down a stone staircase honed from the rock, and into the small courtyard of the castle. Jack followed, zombie-like, fatigue overwhelming him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an occasional dark figure, high up on the battlements, peering down at them. The place was eerily quiet. It had been a fine day, but the high, dark walls shielded the sun and the courtyard was left in gloomy shadow. On reaching the opposite side of the courtyard, they entered the main keep of the castle, and were led into a hall. By contrast to the austere exterior of the castle, the inside of the hall was magnificent. Tapestries and paintings adorned oak-panelled walls and chandeliers hung from a high-vaulted ceiling. At one end, a large open fire crackled away. They were invited to sit on one of several sofas and armchairs that surrounded the log fire. In front of them, refreshments were already laid out on a low table. Jack barely made it to a chair before his legs gave way and he collapsed into it. His eyelids drooped as the physical exertions of the day and the gentle warmth from the fire took their toll. In a moment he was fast asleep. Two minutes later, the professor was also snoring loudly.

Jack didn’t know how long they had been asleep when they were woken by the creak of the door opening. A man with two burly guards on either side marched in. The tall, stooping frame and the wisps of silver hair adorning his balding head were unmistakable. Just the gown was missing. It was the Rector. The last time Jack had seen him was in the control room, directing Tony and Gordon to set about Angus and Pendelshape, just before Jack had made his daring escape using the Taurus. Now, here he was with them — in an Austrian castle in 1914. The Rector marched forward and the two guards quietly peeled away to take up positions elsewhere in the hall. Then, he did something that took Jack completely by surprise. He opened his arms warmly and said, “Welcome!” He moved over to where they sat and gestured for them to stay in their seats, “Please, please, stay where you are. I know. You have had a very tiring and traumatic day. Mr Smith has already briefed me. “You’ve certainly given us a run for our money!” He turned and called back towards the hall entrance, “More food! Our guests are hungry!”

The Rector’s friendliness was unsettling.

“Time travel — it creates a bit of an appetite, don’t you think?”

Jack was confused. He couldn’t work out why the Rector was being friendly. Unable to control himself, he blurted out, “What’s going on? Where are we? What have you done with Angus and Dr Pendelshape?”

The Rector tried to soothe him, “Please, Jack — calm yourself. You are quite safe. And we owe you an explanation. You are one of the school’s better pupils, after all,” the Rector smiled at the professor, “he really is, you know.” The Rector nodded, “Yes — we have much to discuss and much to explain. But first, some proper introductions. The Rector thrust out his hand to the professor. “John Blanding — Rector at Jack’s school, back at, er, home. Pleased to meet you, Professor. My men have told me all about your miraculous escape in the mountains.”