Alan Ch. 27

Chapter 27: London Stalling at the Top of the Dial

Alan paused at the door before entering the room, so unused was he to seeing Michiko fully dressed and upright, not to mention outside of Jack's townhouse. She'd just returned from three months in Japan, and the last time he'd seen her she was being wheeled down a jetway for her flight out. She looked amazingly fit, poised for battle.

The chill given off by the conference room's air conditioning caused the sweat on the back of his neck to quickly evaporate. Months had passed since he and Jack had agreed to combine efforts with the Japanese order, and to their collective frustration, neither hide nor hair had been seen of their target.

Karick tapped a few keys on the laptop, and after a scant second his presentation started. He narrated as the subsequent images filled the screen.

"The London apartment is a bad choice for this operation, for the following reasons," he began

Karick's presentation went on a good hour, with plenty of discussion and debate, breaking up just before five o'clock. Jack wanted Alan to hang around for a private discussion, but Alan begged off.

"Between summer school and coming here every day, with the commute time from the 'burbs tacked on, I'm stretched a little," he explained to his mentor, apologetically. "I pretty much promised my folks I'd be home for dinner five nights a week this summer."

Since the next day was Friday, the only weekday on which Alan didn't have classes he would be able to come in for most of the day. He rode the train home with his dad, talking about the Mets game they were planning on watching on the tube that night.

* * *

It was just a day short of a week later that Lord Thornbow was first spotted. Well, spotted was not quite the right verb. Alistair Thornbow had been playing in a casino in Monte Carlo. Credit for the catch was shared equally by Jack and his assistant Anne-Marie. Jack had told her of his stepbrother's propensity for the occasional flutter, and Anne-Marie had used her contacts in the gaming industry to have any activity on Lord Thornbow's line of credit captured, and the information forwarded to New York. Within an hour of receipt Karick and three of his team were on route to Monaco.

The next morning Alan, Jack, Anne-Marie, Stanley Wilkins (their attorney, and fellow board member), and Peter Gant (Karick's number two, a former Army Ranger) huddled in the conference room around the speakerphone listening to Karick's report.

Monte Carlo, they agreed, was far too urban for the operation the had planned. They had already discarded London as a battleground due to its density, and Monaco was even less suited for this reason.

"So we're still on the same page?" Karick asked near the end of the call. "We wait until he returns to Bankington Hall, his country estate."

"Agreed," Jack concurred, Alan nodding beside him. "We will stick to the plan you already detailed. An urban confrontation is to be avoided."

"Why don't we double the watch on his country estate?" Alan suggested.

"That will be difficult," Karick answered, "He seems to have upped security there, with roving patrols every hour in the day, and every two hours in dark."

"Well," Jack noted, "That is good news!"

"How so?" Alan asked.

"Simple, dear boy. He would not increase security unless he was planning to return. His London flat is hard to reconnoiter because it is so proximate to various embassies and whatnot. With these constant changes in terror alerts that neighborhood is too secure for us to keep close tabs on him there. We are lucky in that he probably doesn't realize he is safer in the hurly-burly of London, than in what he believes is his much-more-secure country retreat. The time to move against him will soon be at hand."

Karick thought about what Jack had to offer for a moment, and then agreed fully. "Right then, I'll put Peter in charge of the mobile team, and I'll go on to England to lead the static team in at Bankington Hall. Peter will call me at the first sign of movement in this direction, and I'll get in touch with you."

"We'll have a jet fueled and standing by at Teterboro."

Another week went by, and still Thornbow hadn't returned to England. Peter's team was trailing him, now in Spain, and Michiko and the abbot had gone ahead to case the country estate. She liked to be very familiar with the terrain before any operation, and the satellite pictures Jack had secured for her study only revealed so much. Cyaxares had just opened a London branch office with two employees transferred from Rome, and Jack was able to pre-ship their swords and other weapons to it.

* * *

When he spoke to Kate that night she seemed a little bummed when he told her he was probably going to have to go off again to Europe, but he had assured her that it was only going to be for a very short while. Either way, if just for an inspection visit, or a confrontation with Thornbow, he wouldn't be away for more than seven days. It wasn't even that she was around to miss him. This summer she was supervising her troubled teen program again, though not actually going on the canoe trips as she had last year. The foundation had rented her a small office in Portland for the summer, and her dad had rented a small apartment there. Most of her days were filled with the logistics of shuffling over two hundred teens and ten counselors through five week-long sessions. Alan had come up every other weekend to visit.

As he was watching the Met game with his dad that night something Kate had said during their past weekend together came back to him. Just as he was about to board his flight to Boston to catch the shuttle she had made him promise something, something he hadn't yet done for her.

"Promise me you'll call Pauline, and meet her for lunch in the city. She's having a miserable summer, with Brian dumping her and my dad insisting on her working for Uncle Edward instead of doing what she wants."

He had agreed, and then almost instantly it had slipped his mind.

Pauline had figured that she would end up working in town, at the foundation's summer camp. However, she had gotten a prized summer internship with the new NFL network, which sadly she had to refuse when her dad had informed her that she would be working this summer at the bank. Her Uncle Edward was head of the family concern, Van Devanter & Sons, one of the largest privately-held investment banks in the world. She had protested vigorously, but to no avail. With Calvin headed to med school, and her sister ensconced securely with her foundation work, Edward had been quite firm that their branch of the family had been remiss at supplying VDS with new blood. It was Helen Van Devanter who had convinced her in the end. "Just do it for this summer," Pauline's mom had counseled. "If you really hate it I'll lean on your dad, and you'll never have to go back again."

On top of all that, the day before she came home from Harvard, she and Brian had split. She had complained to him that he never seemed to make time for them to be together, and they had fought. The argument ended when Brian said she was taking their relationship too seriously, and suggested that perhaps they weren't right for each other. It was a good thing she didn't have to drive home, that her parents had come for the move back, because she spent the three days following her falling out with Brian either crying or brooding.

At a commercial break Alan keyed Pauline's cell number into his own.

"Hey, cute stuff, whashapnin?"

"Shit, Alan, I can't talk now."

"Why, what is it?"

"I'm stuffing two hundred invitations to the bank's summer outing into dammed envelopes. They have to go out tomorrow." She sounded fragile.

"OK, then I wont keep you, except to ask, what are you doing for lunch tomorrow?"

"Nothing," she answered. "I'll probably end up doing some sort of stupid busy work here in the office. Why?"

"Wrong answer, babe. I'm taking you out."

"I'm sure that wont be possible. Uncle Ed keeps me on a short leash. He's a nice enough guy, but he's always in my face, talking up how great a company this is, explaining in excruciating detail the ins and outs of investment banking. I haven't had ten minutes to myself this whole summer."

"Don't sweat it, I'll talk to him. See you at one. Bye." He hung up before she could try to talk him out of it.

When he picked her up the next afternoon, after making things cool with her uncle by implanting a few commands in him, he was surprised to find her so collected. They talked a bit as they waited for the elevator, and he learned that Kate had been exaggerating a little. Pauline was completely over Brian, he learned right off the bat. She had cried for a few days, and been slightly depressed for a few more, but the happy bubbly Pauline was in evidence, and just to make sure, he scanned her, worried she was putting up a brave front for his benefit.

Since Alan had cleared a long lunch for them with Pauline's uncle, and the day being so mild after the long heat wave, they decided to walk over to Chinatown. They ate in a hole-in-the-wall on Mott Street, and caught up. She kissed him, demurely, on the lips after the cabbie let them out back on Wall Street, and Alan caught an uptown IRT express train back to Grand Central. Minutes later he was in the office, and Jack had disappointing news.

"Hong Kong," he said, pronouncing it like a curse. "He's scheduled to speak at a conference of international NGOs. He'll probably bore them to death with his diplomatic doublespeak. They'll soon learn from my dear stepbrother that a few postings, and a brief ambassadorship to Upper Volta, or whatever the hell they now call it, an expert doesn't make."

"Do we know about his itinerary after Hong Kong?" Alan asked.

"Not yet, but Anne-Marie is working on it," Jack replied.

An hour later Karick called from England. The abbot and Michiko had a proposal, and all of them spent the better part of the rest of the afternoon hashing it over on a conference call. All save Karick were enthusiastic about it, and in the end the former Czech intelligence officer agreed to head over to the Continent to acquire the best equipment.

Two days later Thornbow's estate and London flat were rife with the latest state-of-the-art bugging equipment. Michiko and the abbot had brainwashed the staffs to allow the team's entry. Even under the threat of torture Thornbow's servants would be unable to remember allowing Karick access to the residences.

However, there was some troubling news in Michiko's report.

* * *

"Fuck! I feel like I'm going to boot!" Alan swore as he stepped over the line. He was covered in sweat, his face flush, clothes disheveled. He stumbled towards the door, almost gasping to regain his breath. Quickly he was through it, the night breeze cooling him, making him feel slightly better than death. Jack was sitting in a lawn chair which was backed up right against the barn, waiting his turn for the "torture."

"Boot?" the older man asked.

"Puke, ralph, heave--ya know--vomit." Alan mumbled as best he could.

"Ah, I see. Well, perhaps you've had enough for today. I'll have someone drive you home."

Alan nodded, relieved that Jack had suggested this; he didn't want anyone to think he was a pussy, but spending four hours near the Fourth Orb was completely draining. Jack threw him a towel, and he dried his face. As he stepped into the second car of his two car convoy he saw through the windshield Jack square his back and stride purposefully into the barn.

One of the security staff drove him in his car, to be driven back to the base by the driver of the lead car. Once out on the road, another wave of fatigue came at him, and he only just managed the energy to unbuckle his seatbelt and squirm his way into the back seat so he could stretch out and attempt sleep.

Michiko had come back from Britain with intelligence that made little sense to her, but was highly troubling to Alan and Massimo. During her reconnoiter of the grounds and dwellings of the estate she had encountered numerous metallic spheres scattered across the landscape, and throughout the castle. Neil examined the pictures the security team had snapped with telephoto lenses, and confirmed that they looked identical to the Orb he had fashioned back when he was in the service to Lord Thornbow; the result being that Alan and Jack were spending at least four hours each day exposed to the sphere's radiation.

Inoculation, Jack called it. By inuring themselves to the effect of the orbs they would be better able to carry out their "mission." Alan had agreed at first, but the very experience of exposing himself to whatever it was that the silver sphere was radiating had caused second thoughts to assert themselves numerous times.

The driver woke him a few block from his house, and not five minutes later was he asleep in his bed. He and Jack had been sleeping much more than usual than a "regular" Vessel, certainly attributable to the effects of the training with the orb; in fact, he sleep patterns and requirements were now similar to that of a normal person.

The long days and nights were getting to him. Each day he was up at 6:30, took an early train into the city, mornings at Columbia, in class, a few hours in the afternoon at the office (mostly familiarizing himself with the far-flung Cyaxares holdings), then an early afternoon train home. He ate each night with his parents, and then drove up to Jack's rented farm, more than an hour and a half north, into the Hudson Valley, rarely returning before one in the morning. It was a good thing Kate was away because he doubted he had the vim to be around her, to take care of her needs.

That next morning he allowed himself to sleep in, not arriving in Manhattan until after ten. He reasoned that since there were no scheduled meetings that day until after lunch, he would not be missed, but by when he walked in Anne-Marie cornered him, pulling him into her office over his protest that he was coffee-deprived.

As she trained him on the new communications gear which had arrived that day, Alan appraised her. She was stunning as always, dressed smartly in a white summer blouse and a skirt which was hugged her figure tightly, its length just barely on the right side of proper office convention. She had always dressed well; her allure was a necessary part of her work as an undercover casino security agent. The thing was that now she no longer needed to be appealing for professional reasons, yet continued to dress to titillate.

* * *

Two weeks later Alan was flying off the London. Karick had established a training camp on a rented estate halfway between the capital and Dover, and he was taking the red eye to join the rest of the team after a few days of business in the capital. Jack had departed New York a few days previous, and all the necessary equipment had been routed through the corporate offices. Karick had drilled the "normals" (non-Vessels) in their roles for the past month, and with electronic surveillance indicating that Lord Thornbow was soon to arrive back in Britain, the time of action was nearing.

The flight itself was uneventful; however, he had a surprise encounter at Heathrow.

"Alan! Alan! ALAN!" he heard. He resisted turning his head, for the name on his travel papers was not his own, and he feared he was still within earshot of Passport Control. Instead he and his traveling companion, his bodyguard Pete, made smartly for the door and the waiting car. Just as they reached the exit Pete glanced back at their pursuer.

"Shee-yit," he whispered to the increasingly nervous Alan, "If she was looking for me, I'd let myself be found!"

Alan twisted around just enough to catch sight of her. "Jesus, Chloe."

The spring of his senior year of high school, not long after he became a Vessel of the Seed of Paishiya'uvada, he had a brief sexual relationship with the British au pair from across the lane. She was one of a small number of people who knew that Alan possessed his cosmic abilities, though he had used them to see that she would not be able to communicate to anyone that he was anything other than a regular guy.

"Go ahead, Pete, I'll catch up," he told the bodyguard as he pushed through the door.

She had been running to reach him, and when she did she threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. "I thought that was you!"

"Chloe, how are you?"

"Great, thanks partly to you." She shuffled through her overlarge purse and extracted a glossy catalogue, a catalogue familiar to women, and more than a few men--Victoria's Secret. She flipped the pages excitedly, and proudly showed Alan her picture. "It would never happened without you, you know."

Alan was about to ask what she was talking about, but instead stole the explanation from her mind. She had, before becoming an au pair, made the rounds of the London modeling agencies, without finding success. Though her rejections had never been specific, the message had been clear, she wasn't "curvy" enough to get work. Since her initial encounter with Alan, she hadn't had problem, and since returning to England following her year in the States she had slowly been building up her portfolio. Juggling modeling with university had been tough going at first, but she was managing, he read from her thoughts.

"So, what brings you across the pond?"

"Just a little business," he answered, and explained a little about the company he worked for, leaving out the delicate details. They had reached the car, and Alan offered her a ride. She declined, explaining that her agency was sending a car. She grabbed an eyeliner pencil from her purse and wrote her mobile number over her photo in the catalogue, tore it from the book and stuck it in the pocket of his suit coat.

Pete, waiting at the car, gave Alan a sly grin. "So, who's Chloe?"

"Oh, Chloe Mayhew, just some Victoria's Secret model I know."

"You're shitting me," he croaked.

"I'm shitting you negative. She wasn't a model when I met her." Alan explained how he came to know the fetching blonde Brit, leaving out the X-rated parts of their story.

* * *

Jack was waiting for them in the London office; the Japanese contingent was out in the country at Thornbow's estate with Karick. Jack gave an update on Thornbow's movements, and Anne-Marie brought Alan and Peter up to speed on the status of the preparation, and as to what sort of equipment and supplies still needed to be obtained. It was only yet early afternoon when all important matters had been fully discussed, and Alan, who had been cooped up, either in a plane, in a car in London traffic, and in the cramped offices, since ten pm New York time the night before, needed some air. Begging off offers of company from Jack, Peter, and even Anne-Marie, he set out on his own.

The London branch office was located in Wapping, a neighborhood dominated by some forlorn docks, and enormous office building housing Rupert Murdoch's metropolitan newspaper holdings. Alan found a quiet bench opposite a pub, sat down and willed himself to relax. The weather was cool, much more mild than he was used to after experiencing all his past summers in New York.

He called Kate in Maine.

"Hello?"

"Hey Katie, what's up?"

"Nothing much."

"Are you OK?" he asked. "You sound out of breath."

"Oh, it's nothing, really."

"What are you doing?"

"Masturbating, if you must know," she grunted. He cracked up. Looking at his watch he noted that it was early evening on the East Coast. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Just hanging out. The last group of girls arrive tomorrow, plus Miranda is coming over on Wednesday. We're gonna play. And what are you going to do tonight?"

"Probably sleep. The time zones are starting to catch up with me."

"Are you going to be back in New York by the time I come home from Maine?"