The Plagues of Pandora

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Tyler Webb slammed the table in excitement, his exuberance getting the better of him. Alone in the office, but still faced by five live TV screens he struggled to keep from dancing around.

“We have two of them!” he cried. “What a start to the game, my friends. What a start.”

Five confused faces stared back at him. Of course they were waiting for the customary greeting. Of course they knew less than he about proceedings in the three target cities. Of course, this was as it should be.

“We are the Pythians,” he intoned.

“We are the Pythians.”

“So, straight to business. Team London lost most of its men but still smuggled out the sample. Team Angeles, when warned of the oncoming raid, reacted superbly and threw attention away from the Moose as he liberated our sample. Team Paris is about to strike. I love the fluidity of all this, gents and ladies. Makes me feel very much alive.”

“Los Angeles was touch and go,” General Stone affirmed. “To say the least.”

“That’s what I mean!” Webb practically cackled. “We spent two days finding the right place, two days excavating and then outmatched the best of the US in a last minute escape. You couldn’t write that stuff!”

Stone looked a little relieved. Webb wondered why for a moment and then remembered the thorn in their rosy situation. “This team in London,” he said, “that almost beat us. They’re called SPEAR, I believe.”

Stone winced but covered it with a nod. “Yes, sir. I believe we first heard of them through Dmitry Kovalenko. It was they that thwarted the Blood King in his efforts to use the nano-vest on the president underneath Washington DC. Indeed, it was they that took him down. They also stopped Coyote,” he smiled, “but failed to stop her using the nano-vest.”

Webb pursed his lips. “I recall they also stopped several other attempts to test the vests.”

“Sure.” Stone shrugged. “I guess they’re what you might call — our arch enemies.”

“And the team in LA?”

“We’re investigating. I believe the Moose, when he’s safe, might be able to shed some light onto that question.”

“Do they have anyone in Paris?” Nicholas Bell asked.

Stone raised both brows. “I can’t imagine there will be anyone so effective,” he said. “They’re spread pretty thin.”

“Good. Good. Well, we’re ahead of the game at least. A good place to be. So tell me, General Stone, tell me about this SPEAR team.”

“Since they popped up in London I’ve been digging deep. It seemed as good a way as any to test the resources we have… procured. It’s the same team that found the tombs of the gods, if you remember? All that Odin stuff too. They also untangled a Korean plot to plant brainwashed super-assassins among the population.” Stone proceeded to name and describe every known member of the team.

“Not all were present at Knightsbridge.” Webb stared down at a sheet of paper before him where names had been matched to quickly snapped photographs. “Yorgi the thief. Alicia Myles, I believe. Lauren Fox — the escort.”

Stone appeared to wince. For a moment, lost for words, he said nothing. Then Nicholas Bell stepped into the breach.

“I guess we don’t really know how big the team is.”

But Webb barely heard him, concentrating on Stone. The general looked like he’d just swallowed a really, really big pill. “Is there a problem, Stone?”

“Ah, we don’t know the exact location of every single member. Even our resources can’t encircle the globe.”

“Accepted. But still, we are nothing if we’re not a proactive group. The curve of destiny is always before us but we must now strive to remain ahead of it. If SPEAR is causing us problems we should take steps to stamp them out.”

“I suggest you stay on track,” Stone said quickly. “Nothing can be gained by deviating here. Look what happened to everyone else that stood up to them, even the Shadow Elite. We have schemes and plans to see us through the next two years. We should concentrate on those.”

Webb thought about that. Stone was usually his most staunch ally, his hardest rock. Today, something was off with the man. Perhaps it was the influence of that damn builder, the uncouth Nicholas Bell. Perhaps it was something else entirely.

Time to test the general.

“This is your plan, Stone. We allowed you to take first strike. I must insist now that you man up and face a most thorny issue.”

Stone’s eyes bulged at the slur, face suddenly flushing beetroot red. “Man up!” he blustered. “Man up. Me? I’ve seen more action than any man here. I’ll have you know—”

Webb tapped the desk. “Calm yourself, General. Your reaction is the one I was searching for. But the basic issue remains. Drake and his colleagues need to hit the proverbial brick wall.”

Stone’s face scrolled through a medley of emotions, finally settling on deceitful. “There is a way,” he said. “Maybe.”

Webb sat back, happy to see Stone back to his normal self. Clifford Bay-Dale jumped in with a stiff elitist comment, “Hurry up, man. We don’t have all day.”

Stone continued as if the interruptions hadn’t happened. “Some time ago, across in the Czech Republic I understand, Drake and his team pretty much destroyed a terrorist arms bazaar—”

“When they found the third tomb of the gods?” Webb, by now, was familiar with their exploits.

“Yes, in Germany. Now, through the ears of the NSA and the eyes of ground-based assets I do know that this arms bazaar was attended by men who are normally ghosts. They pull the strings of the puppets we know. Terrorist royalty if you like, with a long reach and an even longer memory. The SPEAR team were marked that day, etched in the memories of these powerful men, though so far their constant exploits have kept them untouchable.”

“How’s that?” Robert Norris wondered.

“It’s hard to track and plan to kill a team always at war,” Stone said. “A team that doesn’t even know itself where it will be the next day, or even the next hour. Drake’s team has been on the move for over a year and situated in all parts of the globe. But now,” he mused aloud. “Now we might have a chance.”

“Go on,” Webb said, reading through a dossier as he listened, a dossier compiled on that very team and its every member.

“The terrorists don’t know where Drake is right now but I do. He doesn’t know his team have been marked. If we do this right we could have every terrorist in London burning his house down.”

“Removing him from the game,” Webb said. “And adding a rich depth of confusion to it.”

“You got it. Now, give me some time. I have a little event to plan.”

Webb agreed to the general’s signing off. Within ten minutes he had said his goodbyes to the rest of the Pythians, effectively cutting their meeting short but hearing no complaints. Tyler Webb had started this group, the vision was his to enjoy, the game his to abuse and manipulate. He would have everything go his way or not at all.

General Stone had slipped up somewhere, he was sure. There were no clues in his latest dossier. Perhaps Nicholas Bell knew something — the outspoken builder had been atypically quiet throughout the meeting.

Webb’s sense for trouble, as practiced and shrewd as a Shaolin master’s, unfolded inside, its edges jagged, sharp like thorns. Even among the superior ranks of the world, he mused, death’s heavy hand could strike at any time.