Disclaimer: Everything, excluding the plot and any self-made, belongs to Eoin Colfer. Not for profit.
Author's Note: This is basically a random story idea that came into my head a few days ago while reading over TLC. This is my first shot at an Artemis Fowl fanfic and, unfortunately, I'm not so great as writer as Eoin Colfer. Feel free to correct me if I mess up any plot details mentioned later on. Anyways, thanks and please review
"That is why, five hundred years ago, Council Chairman Nan Burdeh set up Section Eight to monitor demon activity. Luckily, Burdeh was a billionaire, and when she died, she left her entire fortune to Section Eight. Hence the rather impressive setup."
-Commander Vinyaya, Artemis Fowl: The Lost Colony
Holly Short leaned against the grimy bar and shot a glance over her shoulder at the big name bank across the street. The concentration of civilians walking along the busy pathways blocked her view of the doors to the bank. Fortunately, for this Section 8 Captain, eyes and ears were everywhere.
"No, Diggums, I will not sell off my hair so that you can make wigs out of them. What? What? I don't care if you're offering me forty percent of the profits," Foaly's voice sounded over the ear piece, "I don't exactly need the pocket change. In case you haven't noticed, I work for Section 8 and they pay pretty well."
Holly thought she overheard Mulch mumble something along the lines of: "Wouldn't make much money anyway, hair like your's."
"Yeah, and that's not the pot calling the kettle back," Foaly snapped back.
Before the playful fighting could break out into an all out argument, Holly interrupted, cupping her hand over her mouth so no one would think she was talking to herself, "Foaly, I'd appreciate it if you and Mulch didn't argue over hair and wigs. It sort of kills the whole I'm-an-undercover-agent-about-to-do-something-impressive-mood that I'm in."
"One four, Captain Short. We'll be silent as the grave, quiet as a mouse-"
"Foaly!"
"Right, quiet. I get it. Sheesh, someone's been rather cranky lately," Foaly sniffed.
She didn't reply. For a second, Holly's thoughts flashed to what had gotten her so worked up in recent days. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she took another glance at the bank across the street. Just then what looked to be a pixie, dressed in stark black with hair so white it couldn't have been natural, stopped near the bank and gazed up at its 6-story structure. The pixie was holding a brief case in his hand and he looked around him before he entered the bank.
"Foaly," Holly said, not bothering to conceal her moving mouth, "I think we've got company."
"Company? That seems highly unlikely," Foaly said and she could practically hear his frown, "It's a private party and the only invitation went out to Section 8."
"Well, the pixie I saw looked pretty suspicious. He had a smug look on his face, he was wearing black and-and-he was carrying a brief case!" Holly sputtered, having a difficult time explaining why she was so perturbed.
"Oh no! Not a brief case!" Foaly gasped, his voice gushing with sarcasm, "Because, you know, Section 8 has handled the return of the entire demon population, threatening to destroy Mud Man kind and reveal the existence of the People. But god forbid a brief case!"
Holly was just pondering over a good retort when she heard gun shots sound off from the bank. Suddenly, civilians were screaming and running around the street in a frenzy.
"Were those gun shots I just heard?" Foaly asked.
"Uh huh," Holly breathed, before she started running towards the bank.
"I'll never hear the end of this, will I?" Foaly went on.
"Nuh uh," Holly smiled, fighting through the crowds of frightened people. It was not an easy task, much like pushing upstream when the current was going downstream. Finally, she reached the black marble doorways of the bank, and turned on her suit. Invisible, she slipped into the building.
"Holly, we've got someone waiting in the wings to zip you guys outta there. Just get in, zap that pixie, make sure we get our hands on what we came for, and get out. It's smooth going. Is that clear?" Foaly inquired, something telling him that when it came to Holly Short, things were never smooth.
"Crystal," Holly responded, watching her pixie friend terrorize the bank tellers and an unfortunate few who hadn't managed to escape the bank. The Captain was just raising her neutrino to shoot when-
"I'd wait before you shoot, Holly," Foaly broke in and a camera that had only just gone under the control of Section 8 turned in her direction. Even though she was wearing her suit, invisible to any camera in the world, Foaly had still found her. Holly would have to ask him about that later.
Holly paused, "Why the hell not?"
"Our friend is trickier than we think. Under that pretty black coat, he's strapped with bombs set to go off at impact with any sort of fast moving or flammable substance. Almost all your weapons fall under both categories," Foaly explained.
Holly swore under her breath and shoved her gun back into its holster. It looked like she'd have to disarm the criminal manually. As she inched closer, she heard him talking.
"I want all these people out of my sight," he ordered, pointing his gun at the hysterical civilians, all crying for dear life, especially one dark-haired girl in a flashy silver suit, "No witnesses, understand?"
"Y-yes sir," one of the bank tellers and then he nodded to another one of his colleagues who began leading the civilians into the inner folds of the bank.
"They're taking them into a special holding cell the bank has for crisises," Foaly said, clicking on his computer and pulling up a blueprint of the bank, "A top security room with no cameras. No one's allowed in there unless there's an all out emergency. It gives easy access to the rest of the bank's safes."
"At least the innocent people are out of my hair and my conscience," Holly muttered, nearly up behind the rampant pixie. Really, the job was rather easy. Knock-out the crazy fool with a quick hit to the head, unstrap his explosives, save the bank. She found herself rather disappointed in the amateur gig. When she'd last signed a five year contract with Section 8, she'd imagined cool adventures and even cooler gadgets.
Just as she'd thought, a swift elbow to the back of the pixie's head had him down. He fell easily and she turned off her suit and knelt down beside him, removing his bombs.
As she worked, she spoke, "Captain Holly Short, government agent. Please, stay calm. The worst is over."
"Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. This is not good," Foaly sounded up and Holly froze.
"Don't tell me, the worst is not over?" she sighed, the last of the bombs off the pixie.
"Far from. I've lost contact with the Section 8 agents in Nan Burdeh's safe room. I think a heard a struggle before my signal went dead. There's no cameras in any of the big name cellars and Nan Burdeh was big name. As far as I can see, you and our driver are the only Section 8's within radius. And, LEP is on its way," Foaly summarized, "I think the pixie was a decoy. The opponent is smarter than we first thought."
"D'Arvit!" Holly swore under her breath, then, to the bank tellers, "Excuse me? You know what I said about staying calm? Yeah? Well, that's going to be key to the situation right now. Listen, you, come here and tie this guy up. Don't worry, he should be out for another hour or so. Don't touch the explosives either unless you want to sign your own death warrant. The LEP is on their way. Now, which one of you is going to show me the way to Nan Burdeh's safe?"
Nobody moved. Holly groaned.
"We're sorry, Miss, but no one is allowed inside Nan Burdeh's safe unless they have key. As far as we know, Mrs. Burdeh took that with her to the grave," a teller replied.
Holly rolled her eyes, "Listen, folks, one of you is going to take me to Nan Burdeh's safe or I'm afraid I'm going to have to use one of these on you."
She revealed the weapons tucked in the folds of her uniform for effect, then said, "Please, don't make me repeat myself. I only have so much patience."
The tellers moved into action as if someone had just turned them on. Two went to tie up the pixie, three others were answering calls, and yet another began leading Holly down to Nan Burdeh's cellar. They walked swiftly through the maze-like bank. They went up and down so many elevators and made so many turns that by the time they had reached the cell door, Holly had no idea how to get back.
The bank teller had his hand scanned and his eyes scanned as he said, disapproval evident, "I used to be Nan Burdeh's special consultant. I'm one of three people this door opens for."
The cell door opened and inside were six Section 8 agents lying all over the floor, looking ragged and dazed. The cell itself had been ravaged, with safes blasted open and money, jewels, and special files littering the floor.
"The safes!" the teller cried, rushing in and Holly strided in, gingerly. She scanned the room for any remaining opponents. None. She stepped to the nearest agent and checked for a pulse. She went to all six, checking one by one and each time, being relieved when she realized they were still alive.
"I can't believe this. Do you know how many years it took to organize these papers?" the teller cried, shoveling up handfuls of files and disks, "Now, you and your band of miscreants come along and-"
Holly had him mesmerized before he could whine anymore.
"Holly...?" one of the agents groaned and the Captain went to her, hearing Vinyaya's voice.
"Commander," Holly said, cradeling the older woman's head in her lap, "Commander, what happened?"
"I don't know...they all just came at once," Vinyaya said, trying to get herself together, "And they took it. The second half of Burdeh's will. I was only just looking it over before they took it."
"Did you catch a name?" Holly asked, helping the Commander to sit up.
Vinyaya rubbed her forehead, "Something like Natalie or Natasha. It was an odd name. Almost like...someone from the surface."
For a moment, Holly and Vinyaya stared at each other. What would happen if Nan Burdeh had left the whole of her special Section 8 core to a Mud Man?
"Anyways, I suppose we'll have to get Foaly to do a proper scan for anyone with that sort of name," Vinyaya shook her head, "I just don't understand what happened. How did those people get in here?"
"Did you manage to ID anyone?" Holly implored, noticing that the other agents were awakening too.
"No, all new faces. I do remember one of them, vividly, though. A young girl. Dark hair. Wore this silver suit get-up."
Holly felt her heart stop. That civilian girl. Or, at least, Holly had thought she was a simple civilian. Was it possible that that whole band of innocent bystanders were really the enemy all along? She recalled Foaly's words about how the holding cell was highly permeable to all the other cells in the bank.
"D'Arvit!" Holly snapped, then without explaination, stood, speaking into her ear piece, "Foaly, make sure those civilians in the bank aren't released. They need to be questioned."
"You're a few minutes too late, Captain," Foaly answered, "All of the captives were just released by the LEP."
Holly moaned, "Tell me they got names, addresses, anything?"
"Sure, they did. But they didn't verify anything," Foaly said.
"Basically, you're telling me that everything they said might as well be a lie, then?" Holly demanded, pacing around the holding cell.
"Bingo," Foaly replied, "However, I do have camera images. Let me just replay them."
Holly tapped her foot, impatiently, then heard a distinctive swear, "What is it?"
"They got to the cameras before we did. Everything's set to play just fine one time around when it's all live and then if you replay it, it burns out," Foaly groaned, venting his frustration by tossing his head set at a sleeping Mulch.
Holly sighed and turned to Vinyaya who asked, "Well?"
"We've lost them."
Let's Play