I did not like breaking into houses.
The imposing facade of the building's entrance- the full shebang, with a balcony, a huge set of wooden double doors, and several Gothic spires on top- was scary enough, but add to that an annoying partner and a life-or-death mission, and things suddenly got a whole lot more complicated. Why, I told myself for what had to the thousandth time, why had I agreed to do this?
"Psst! Come on, tortoise!"
I gritted my teeth and looked sideways at my mission partner, Penny, who was now taking the liberty of raising his eyebrows at me. Penny- short for Percy, nobody knew why- Grogan was six foot, Scottish, and blessed with the kind of temperament you might expect of a vole. That is, curious and bad-tempered. I appreciated that he was a master at his job-even his Savant powers seemed adapted for this line of work (though you had to wonder how he'd come to be so good) but he wasn't the kind of person you grew to like.
Anyway, it was his 'thesis' that if you looked as though you were supposed to be there, nobody would question what you were doing. Confidence is the key, Mara. So far, it had worked. Although we hadn't even gotten into the bloody place yet.
He demonstrated this thesis now, striding cockily up to the door and rapping smarty on the wood. I scowled at him, trying to quell the irritation by endlessly reciting French verbs to myself- irritation with your mission partner at the very start of a mission was probably a bad idea. Huddled on the pavement, I shuffled inside my thin jacket and tried to stop the autumn chill from seeping into my bones. I hated London, and London in the winter was even worse. Give me the rolling countryside and a log fire any day. Even better, give me New Zealand's jagged skyscape and summer winds- where I'd be going as soon as I got the chance. I sighed unhappily, hunching my shoulders against the biting weather.
Come here, now! We're supposed to be acting as a team.
Fat chance of that. He was even annoying inside my head.
Yes, yes, Sensei.
I trotted up the stairs and forced a smile onto my face just as the door opened and a short, grey-haired woman poked her head around it. "Hello?"
"Hello! My name is Mr MacDonald and this is my partner, Miss Inkson. I believe we called in advance? We've come for an inspection."
In case you were wondering, a Mr Ian MacDonald and Miss Michelle Inkson did exist. They were from the government and they were supposed to be in our places right now, carrying out a routine inspection in the name of the glorious health and safety department. However at the moment they were being briefed by one of us- i.e. a Savant with hypnotic powers- on what they were supposed to have seen whilst here, giving us time to find the more important things that lay hidden here. Life-saving things, for example.
The simple fact was- or so we'd been told- that a virus had recently been hitting the Savant population, and hitting it hard. Nobody was entirely sure what it was about- or what caused it- but what it did was make us extremely ill and then, quicker than you could say 'horror' it drained all our power away, leaving us effectively 'normal' humans. For a people who prided themselves on their special skills, it was the worst of fates. Just thinking of it was enough to bring a spine-running shiver to the skins of most people, myself included. Add to that mix a mysterious scheme, funded by some extremely wealthy- and suspicious- Savants and based in this building -which had taken off about the same time as the sickness- and you got something extremely suspicious going on. The Savant Net needed some people to find out their plans; we'd volunteered (something which I was starting to regret already).
This was, in fact, why we were investigating.
Comfortable in his role of Ian MacDonald, Penny flourished his clipboard; the woman's face cleared and she gave a welcoming smile. "Ah! Of course! Please, come right in."
She led us into a small reception, decorated in what I think they call 'minimalist' style: there were two chairs, a reception desk, and a coffee table. White walls. Grey floor. So far, so bad.
"Please wait just one moment whilst I call our manager- Mr Knockton. Oh...wait. He's not on the line..."
I hoped that Knockton would be a knockout- or at least criminally stupid. We weren't going to be talking to him anyway; he wouldn't tell us anything we didn't know. But his papers, helpfully liberated from his office by us, would.
As soon as we were sure that manager-dude wasn't in the office, but cosily ensconced in the Staff Room having his tea break, Penny leaned forwards with a confidential smile. "It's fine. Really. We don't want Mr Knockton disturbing himself. Michelle and I will just have a quick look around and be on our way."
"Oh, are you sure?" The secretary dithered for a moment, and my partner flashed her his most winning smile in return.
"Quite sure. We won't be more than ten minutes. In fact," Penny paused as if the idea had only just occurred to him. "In fact, we'll walk up and meet him on his way down, and tell him not to worry."
"Oh." The secretary was clearly flustered. "Very well, then."
"Just tell us where to go. Where is his office?"
I loitered back while she gave us directions, checking out the different routes available. The big, grand door on the right was obviously the way to 'official' offices, which was where we'd be starting our investigation. The smaller one on the right...cleaning staff? Kitchens? Or something more sinister? I stepped towards it, examining the padlock on it- a heavy-duty affair with two keyholes. Blimey, someone must really hate cleaning. Or, something else- something rather more suspicious than cleaning- was going on...
"Miss Inkson!" The secretary's cooing call jolted me from my reverie. "Please, step this way."
Penny glanced across the room at my interested face and the padlocked door, and decided to intervene like the pro he was.
"Let's go! Pleasure meeting you, Miss...?"
"Smith."
"Pleasure meeting you, Miss Smith."
As I passed her, the newly-named Miss Smith nodded at me- and then her eyes unfocussed and her face drifted into a dazed smile as Penny wiped her mind from any recollection of us. I shivered as I passed her- staring right at me was the reason that I couldn't trust him.
Mara Cooper! We can't afford to nod off that that! You could blow our cover! Our only aim is to get those papers, remember?
Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry, I huffed as we marched down a more luxurious corridor, patterned with actual wallpaper and a thick blue carpet. Doors flashed by, but Penny ignored them all, instead turning onto the staircase.
Well, I don't know why you even volunteered for this. I didn't either. To stop Fred grabbing all of the glory for once? All of his missions seemed to go perfectly. Mine? Tommy's? Not so much. I cringed at the memory of The Failure, where the house I'd been in had almost collapsed on top of everyone. That had been a nightmare. This time, I was determined to prove that I could do it, and, what's more, do it well.
And speaking of doing it well...
Penny! I yelled at him mentally. STOP! The chandelier above us spun and creaked alarmingly as Penny snapped to a halt and glared at me. What?
Look. Armed guard. I motioned around the corner, pointing to the place where we were headed. It was a bit like a scene from a film- about four thugs with guns were patrolling in front of the door.
I looked sideways at Penny, and he met my eyes. For once, I knew we were both thinking exactly the same thing: who had snitched on us? I was sure that these guards weren't a regular feature- they hadn't been included in the briefing, for one thing- and they probably weren't going to take kindly to me and Penny waltzing in there and sifting through their boss' paperwork. Damn!
Can you use your power? That was Penny, anxiously looking for solutions.
Not without bringing the house down. It's not that focussed. Oh, the irony: I wasn't looking for a repeat of last time. Can't you?
I can't put them on permanent mind-wipe! Or...
Or what? I demanded furiously, taking a vindictive pleasure in watching him wince as my voice drilled into his skull. Come on, time is running out! Someone's going to find us any second!
I watched him run a hand swiftly through his thick ginger curls, concentrating hard. Okay. This is how it's going to go. You create a distraction a floor below, and then I'll be able to go in and shift through the paperwork.
That'd work...I guess. But we'd only have limited time- they'll realise that they've been fooled. Be quick; I'll try and get to the office as well- meet you there.
Fine. Hurry, though, Kiwi.
Will do, McJock.
I shot him a glare- the things I did in the name of justice (like being patronised for my proud New Zealand heritage!) and all that- and then retreated down the corridor, taking the stairs two at a time and turning off into a side-corridor which had another staircase at the other end. I marched on double speed until I came to an office which was half-open, their owner probably having just gone down to make a cup of tea. It was a bog-standard office: loads of filing cabinets, a desk, pictures of the grandchildren, that kind of thing. Perfect.
Standing in the middle of the room, I closed my eyes, breathing evenly, concentrating, making sure I could keep control of my power. Then I held up my hands, and spread them out in an arc. My whole body began to tingle furiously, and when I opened my eyes again, I was ready.
Slowly- I had to do this slowly, or it'd get away from me and wreak havoc- I turned my head, fixing my gaze on the table.
It splintered, buckling under an invisible force; then, suddenly and shockingly, it exploded, raining bits of wood everywhere. Oops.
Shouts rose up from neighbouring offices, but I wasn't done yet. The filing cabinets went next- bang, bang, bang, the individual drawers shooting off their hinges, spraying paperwork everywhere. The clock: smash. The pictures were dust on the floor.
MARA! STOP!
Penny's shout tore through me, snapping me back to myself and breaking my concentration. The explosions stopped; I took deep breaths like a man drowning, panic sending my head into a spin. Oh my god, that had been close; too close. This was why I hated using my power- the magic was like a drug, setting every sense alight, but the price I paid was the loss of control. My ability was too strong for me, and more often than not that resulted in major damage.
Above me, I could hear shouts and footsteps as the guards- and the officeworkers- yelled in shock and suspicion at the mini-Armageddon that I was constructing in the building. Right-mission accomplished; time to beat it, and fast.
Using the ruined desk as leverage, I boosted myself up and out of the office, flying down the corridor as fast as adrenaline would let me before doors started to open. The other staircase, I knew, from the blueprints that we'd studied, led the long way round to the Big Cheese's office. The guards would want to get there quickly; they'd use the other way.
I slammed myself around the corner as the doors started to open and a stream of one, two, three blue-suited guards poured into the space, guns at the ready. I winced- one was still upstairs, dammit!
"Who's there?" One of them barked at the office. The colleagues began cooing together, like a flock of gossiping pigeons. "Draisey- status report!"
A tall, wiry man poked his head into the office. "Empty."
"Was that our prisoner?" Another guard asked, popping up behind the first and waving his gun in a mildly ridiculous way. "Was this guy trying to get him out?"
"Maybe." The first said gruffly. From my vantage point at the end of the corridor, I could see that he had a scruffy beard, whilst the second had piercingly blue eyes. I decided to call them Beardy and Blue. "Okay, this is how it's going to roll. I'll tell John to keep an eye on the prisoner, and you and me go and track him down."
Blue's eyes roved disbelievingly over the room. "He did all this? D'you reckon that they took papers? The office worker?"
He looked incredulous, but what other explanation was there short of TNT? The idea of magic was just crazy. Heh.
"Alright, here's how it's gonna roll. Draisey- guard the room, in case he comes back. Dirty Savant. You wanna call Knockton?
The word hit me like a bullet. Savant? Savant? What did they know about Savants? They were clearly mundane. I bit my lip on a swear word and hoped like hell that Penny had managed to get into the manager's office.
"I don't want to bother you; I'll call him. He's got those people coming round in about ten minutes to check on the prisoner..."
Beardy nodded and strode off; I heard him calling to Blue, who jogged behind him like an overenthusiastic puppy. I heard footsteps racing off down the stairs. I waited until they'd gone- only poor ickle Draisey left to guard the trashed room- and then shakily levered myself off the wall, grabbing my clipboard and sprinting up the staircase, the skirt causing serious hampering issues. Next time- if there ever was a next time after the way things were going- I'd be wearing trousers, for pity's sake!
Upstairs, almost all of the office doors had banged open and multiple pairs of goggle eyes followed me as I marched down the corridor. I needed to get rid of them somehow.
"Who is she?" One whispered loudly to another. I straightened up, giving my widest smile. I had to control my voice; a Kiwi accent always magically appeared when I got stressed, and Inkson was most definitely British. "Hello, my name is Ma-Michelle Inkson. I was sent here by the government to report on any misdemeanours or discrepancies which go on in the workplace- and I've noticed that there have been a few recently. If one of you would care to give me a witness report, and I can pass it on to your manager as soon as possible."
Immediately, people started to back away, muttering about being 'busy', and doors started to shut, as I'd hoped they would. Nothing got you fired quicker than filling out a witness report for your boss about how your workplace wasn't up to scratch. Within minutes, the corridor was empty.
I quietly cursed to myself. This thing was falling apart around our ears. Sooner or later, the guards would find out that nobody had broken in, and that the real occupant of that office was in fact getting tea. If they didn't, then he or she would come up to find their room a warzone, and would quickly press the panic button. That would then lead to the fake inspectors...and then our cover would be blown.
I walked, almost ran down the corridor to where the manager's office awaited me. Unlike the other doors, this one was impressively adorned with a shiny brass plaque reading 'H. Knockton' and a wood polished to an almost eye-watering shine. This guy was obviously a big cheese, having guards to protect his office. But where was the last one? I hoped that he'd followed the others down to the cellars to join the fruitless search for a potential destruction-maniac. Where was Penny? Hopefully, he'd have taken my cue and would be inside.
Well, let's get cracking- there were some papers to find. And they had to be found before these unexpected visitors came in- oh, ten minutes.
I wiped sweaty palms on my skirt and turned the cool metal handle. The door whispered open.
I was in!