Chapter Two
He was awoken by the small sound of glass on metal, and he regained full conscious.
"What time is it?"
"Five," she quickly hurried on. "Plane's at seven. I know you'd probably have to preen or something. Orange juice. You need your vitamin C."
There was someone else in the room. He could tell. Artemis sat up, trying to wipe any signs of sleep away. It was Agent Niller.
"How are you, Agent Niller?" Artemis tore a hand through his hair.
"Fine. Great. You kids?"
Barbara glanced quickly over at him, noticing the momentary scowl. 'Kids'? "Just fine, sir, thank you very much. What can we do for you?"
Niller took a seat on the couch, his nondescript businessman attire contrasting with the fire engine red of the couch. "Came to see if you've gotten a hold of any account numbers or intel on other members."
Artemis quickly found the file with the papers, as well as photographs from a few of he camera's he'd planted at the building. The agent was impressed.
"So, have you found out who exactly you're going to talk to?"
"We're supposed to have the file dropped off very soon, we'll tell you as soon as we get it."
Niller started to leave, but Artemis stopped him, holding up a hand silently as he watched the video feed from the downstairs. Barbara came over to see exactly what he was looking at. Other than the handful of tenants ambling in and out, there was a newcomer. Their papers were here.
"Go take him to your bedroom and don't let him out until I say so. If he's found here it could be disastrous, and I'd rather not get anything on the carpet. Blood's hard to get out of white carpeting."
She ushered him to the room, and came back over to where he was standing. The delivery boy was having problems getting the lift to get to their floor.
"Just override the damn thing."
Artemis scowled at his partner, but she was already staring intently at the screen. "What?" he said crossly.
"I can't tell if he's packing heat or not," she said quickly, obviously she was annoyed at him.
Artemis looked closer. The guy was pulling on the cord, but he was leaning oddly.
"He has a holster on his left side with a fairly heavy piece of metal in it." And then he turned to just the right angle.
"Probably something showy like a Desert Eagle. Usually 50 caliber." Artemis glanced sideways at her, and looked away. "So I like guns."
Artemis shook his head and hit the override switch for the elevator. The person inside jumped as it gracefully ascended, looking around for the reason. He turned to Barbara. "Perhaps we have something showy to show him?"
That was a joke. He was starting again.
Barbara took out an extremely polished Colt. He raised an eyebrow. "Loaded?"
She nodded. "Girl Guide Motto: Be prepared."
He was about to ask her if she ever had been Girl Guide, but had to stop since their visitor was quickly coming towards the door. Artemis nodded to Barbara to open the door. She swung him in.
"Why, hello," Artemis held out a hand. "The papers please."
Barbara glared over the delivery boy's head, pointing at her own gun, and he ignored her as the visitor readily handed over the papers, anxious to leave. Artemis shuffled through them for a minute and then satisfied, opened the door for him. The man quickly walked past, but not before Artemis held up a hand.
"Tell Uncle Dimitrov that we really don't like when he sends messengers packing heat." He shut the door and found Barbara glaring at him.
"Is there something on my face, or are you asleep with your eyes open?"
"Neither. You just made a giant ordeal out of getting papers from some zit-faced kid who's probably pissing his pants!"
"It never hurts to be prepared, you said so yourself."
Barbara shook her head and started down the hallway, but stopped when she heard his quick intake of breath. Alarmed, Barbara turned to see what was wrong.
Of all the ironic situations he had been in so far, this was the worst. Their were numerous photographs of their targets.
His father.
A photograph taken with a telephoto lens showed him mid step with his school uniform on, completely ignorant of the fact that someone was targeting him, willing to kill him to make his father a part of a deal that he'd want no part in.
Barbara gently took it from him, and went through the deck. "A certain song by Allanis Morrisette comes to mind…"
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "P-pardon?"
"Forget it," she took the folder and the photographs and put it into a laptop case on the kitchen counter. "Just get changed, okay? We'll figure something out."
They were first class tickets on a rather expensive plane, a comfort that Artemis only dimly acknowledged as he filed into his seat. Barbara was biting a nail and he could see it out of the corner of his eye; it was grating on his nerves.
"I'll go to your house, and you'll go to the wrong school," Barbara moved on to her pointer finger. "Or, Lord, I don't know, Artemis. Could you perhaps lend a hand?"
"Hm?" he looked over at the laptop she had on her lap, a map of his house was on it. "Oh, plan, yes. Well, my parents will recognize me; so the less contact I have with them, the better. I'll wait in the car, I suppose?"
"But what will we tell them when we can't find you to kidnap?"
The whole situation, in any other case, would have been down right funny. However, this was him, and his family, and Artemis wanted to get it over and be done with it as soon as possible.
She sipped her soda. "If we don't come back with money-"
"I know, I know."
"We'll just have to get it from somewhere else."
The airport at Ireland was just as he'd remembered it, and the smell and sound was comforting. He felt positively giddy as they made their way to hotel, an upscale one with the apartment nearly on top of it. Upon the realization of this fact, Artemis grumbled.
"Oh, lighten up, you. It's only temporary." Barbara threw her suitcase onto her half of the bed.
Bed. One. Singular.
Their heads shot up almost simultaneously, now very aware of the close quarters that they'd be sharing for the next few days. One bathroom, one room, one sitting room.
"Well, like you said, 'only a few days'…What in God's name are you doing?"
Barbara had picked up a pillow and an extra sheet from the foot of the bed, and was walking back into the other room, depositing them on couch. "And that's why you won't be upset about the couch." She walked past and back into the bedroom, and started to unpack. Artemis sputtered.
"Why not every other day or something? I think this should be up to negotiation."
Barbara placed her robe over a chair. "I really do believe you should be a bit more chivalrous, especially towards your girlfriend, Dixon."
Artemis found the door shut in his face with the excuse she was freshening up. He shook his head. "Women."
"It's seven, and we need to talk. About our plans." Another glass of orange juice was sitting in front of him. He sat up and stretched, suddenly regretting it. Sleeping on the couch had been extremely uncomfortable.
"Excellent choice in evening apparel." Barbara blushed.
"We have to show them some sort of sign that we really did talk to him. I'll go in and explain the situat-"
Artemis sat up. "No! You cannot tell them that I'm apart of this. Do you understand?"
Barbara nodded, sighing. "Okay, okay. But if I'm going to have to go in, you have to monitor surveillance. Just because it's your home doesn't mean that we're completely safe. Now go shower quickly."
Artemis actually had to say that the job MI did on the car was quite good, and there was no outward sign that it was different from any other car. He pulled out the laptop and hacked into his very own system.
"Having fun?" asked Barbara from the backseat, who was setting up her wiring. He smirked.
"I'm very proud to say that even I am having difficulty getting past my own security."
"Is your memory slipping?"
Artemis turned around. "I created it seven years ago."
"Oh. Good job."
Artemis started to pull up the driveway, stopping at the gate. Barbara asked to be allowed in, and they readily agreed.
"You might want to tell your parents to be more careful."
"Well, the very next time I'm technically here, I will."
"Is Mr. Fowl home?"
The young blonde eyed her. "And you are?"
"Barbara Damphirski. It's a business meeting I must have with him."
"He's no-"
"Oh, Juliet, lighten up. Artemis Fowl, how can I help you?"
For a brief instant Barbara couldn't believe how strong the resemblance was, but quickly stuck out her hand. "Barbara Damphirski. I have a matter of utmost importance to you that I need to discuss."
Artemis frowned, a sudden memory from days before popped up. 'Catarina'?
She disappeared inside.
"Damphirski, huh?"
"Yes, sir."
"I suppose your father hasn't heard that I've quit the business, huh?"
"I suppose he hasn't…One moment, please."
She flipped open her phone. Artemis was on the other side. "In?"
"Yes."
"Clean?"
"If I'm talking to you, it obviously is."
She'd make sure to be extremely catty when they were in the car. "Mr. Fowl," she fished the badge out of her pocket. "I'm here with MI5. We need your cooperation."
Mr. Fowl's grip on the decanter tightened. "Since I've waken up in the hospital, and before hand, I've gone straight."
She nodded. "We know that, Mr. Fowl. We simply are asking you to do something for us."
Mr. Fowl sat down in a high backed chair. "I'm all ears."
"We are taking down the Damphirski crime ring, and my uncle has decided to start selling bombs. Undetectable, remote controlled bombs that are extremely volatile. I'm working under cover to stop them. However, we supposedly were coming to solicit to you this bomb, and hold your son at ransom if necessary, to ensure your part in this."
"Arty, is he okay?"
"He's fine, Mr. Fowl. But if someone calls, asking about a meeting with me, you must tell them that you agreed. If they ask specifics, just get a little angry or something."
He nodded. "Is there anything else I can do?"
She shook her head. "This alone, is helpful, sir."
"Dimitrov."
"It's Dixon."
"What's the matter? Nothing is wrong, is it?"
"Of course not, but I haven't been able to secure the kid."
"Why the hell not?"
"He's with his body guard."
"Well, shit."
Barbara hurried out to the car. "Who were you talking to?"
"Your uncle."
"I told him we couldn't get a hold of me because my butler was with me…my, I never thought I'd say that…what did he say?"
"He'd answer that we had seen him and he'll be paying in a week if they ask." She slipped her ID back into her pocket. "Call him and tell him everything is fine."
"He's your uncle!"
"Just call him and you can pick where we eat tonight."
"What did you have in mind?"
She smirked. "Fast-food. Greasy, fatty, cheap fast food."
"I'll call."
"That's where I go to school." He broke the silence as they drove past a tall, wrought iron gate with a large old building behind it.
Barbara shook her head. "That place?"
"What's wrong with it?"
She shrugged, crossing her arms. "It's just a little creepy. I could never see myself going to school there. It must be unbearable."
"Well, you couldn't, actually, because it's an all boy's school. And the students are worse than the school."
"Hm," she went back to looking out the window.
"Catarina."
"Да?, не то он имеет значение†," she mumbled sleepily.
"2 красотка спать ‡. Can I come in?"
"You already are in here aren't you?" Barbara turned on the bedside lamp, slightly angry that she was being woken up so late, or rather, early. "What's the matter?"
"Your uncle called you Catarina."
Suddenly, she was serious. "He did." She gestured to the chair. "Sit."
"Why?"
"It's my Russian name. My real name. My father liked Barbara, and I hate it, but it stuck."
An airplane flew overhead and they both winced. She bit her lip and crossed her arms in front of her. "At least I'm not named something extremely strange, like Rainbow or something."
"Something like Artemis?"
"No!" she said quickly. "No, it's a bit…unorthodox, but it's interesting."
Artemis raised an eyebrow as she started to laugh. "What's so funny?"
"Your father called you Arty. It was just…unexpected."
"Are you always this inarticulate at two in the morning?"
"I'm not usually up at this hour. Do you always ask questions at two in the morning?"
"It depends on the company I have at the time."
She sighed. "Go to bed, Artemis. I'm tired, tomorrow we're going back and I don't want to."
"Can I just sleep on the chair?"
She sat back up. "What?!"
"I don't like the couch."
Barbara sighed and kicked the sheets off. "Fine, take the bed. I'll go sleep on the couch." She shook her head. "Whiney."
"Wake up."
Her eyes opened slowly, and the crick in her back told her that they had spoken, like she remembered. "Bloody couch."
"Your uncle called." Artemis had a toothbrush in his mouth as he spoke. "Our plane leaves tonight. We just have to make sure nothing happens to us until then."
She yawned and sat up, patting down her bed head. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, apparently, your uncle angered one of the possible buyers."
She felt her stomach drop, and she started to call her uncle everything she could think of under her breath. "Do I even want to know?"
"Well, the guy was Irish, and-"
"SHIT!"
"That's precisely what I thought you'd say. He's got a few men here. They're probably on their way here."
She started frantically throwing things into her suitcase, and even his clothing. "Why the hell are you just standing there with a friggin' toothbrush in your mouth. Move your ass!"
"Do you talk to your mother with that mouth."
For a moment he saw a flash of pain, but then a blouse that wasn't fitting in the bag took her attention. "I can't. Hurry up!"
They were out of the room in ten minutes, and they went down the street to a lesser hotel where they checked in and hastily stowed their things. It was a nice room, but again, only one bed.
"I cannot believe this."
Barbara turned around, now horrified. "What?"
"The laptop."
"Shit."
"We have to go back. There's too much on there just to leave."
"Can't you hack into it from another computer?" she was frantic. He shook his head.
"The encryption would take all day to get past." He grabbed the keys. "Come on."
"Wait."
She grabbed two guns and stuffed her pockets with clips, and put a few in his pockets. They were ten minutes away. It took them four.
They made their way down the hallway slowly, listening with as much intensity as possible. They made their way to the door, and saw it was open. Artemis took in a sharp breath before he entered, but was relieved to see the cleaning cart. Barbara entered after him and grabbed the laptop and its case.
"Wait a second."
She turned around. "What?"
"Why don't we here her in here?"
The bullet tore past him and he felt a sting across his chest. Instinctively he dove behind the couch.
Barbara appeared seconds later. He grimaced. "How many?"
"I saw two."
"There's probably another."
A bullet flew by, and she peeked around the corner and shot a few rounds. "One down," she said breathlessly.
Artemis looked underneath the couch and aimed at one of the assailant's legs. Two rounds and whoever it was, was down. He could see a slumped figure in a cleaning outfit in the bathroom, and suddenly there was another person coming out. Two bullets prevented them from shooting at them.
Barbara had her eyes closed, breathing heavily. Artemis swallowed. "I think that's it."
"I'm going to check her for a pulse."
Artemis looked down. He had gotten lucky; the bullet had merely taken a slight bit of skin with it. It was still enough to bleed.
"She'd dead."
Artemis turned to see Barbara squatting in the bathroom, her monotonous voice surprising him. The pain was getting worse.
"Oh my God. You're hurt."
"Brilliant observation."
She already had the cell phone out, contacting MI5. Artemis sat down. He went to wipe some sweat away, and realized that he couldn't move his right arm too easily.
"Artemis? The police are on their way. We've gotta get out of here."
"My arm."
She helped him up. "I'm driving. We'll get you fixed up."
"This is probably going to sting."
"What was that for!"
Barbara only bit her lip, dabbing gingerly, the silence wasn't helping much in the few following minutes. Artemis opened one eye, keeping the other as close to squinting without looking like it. He might as well break the silence.
"I was lucky."
"Hmm. I never thought I'd hear that from you." She rummaged through her purse for a moment and took out a bottle. "Take this."
"Halved medicine?"
"Halved Vikiden, to be specific. It fell off a truck, so don't ask, just take it."
"Are you okay?" it came out. It seemed strange to ask it, as if it went without saying, but from her startled glance he guessed it was a surprise.
Her hand went to his forehead, and she shrugged.
"Could have sworn this whole conversation was brought on by fever." She applied a band-aid and shoved his good arm to make him move off of the counter so she could wash her hands. Artemis got into bed.
The light in the bathroom went out as she closed the door, and moments later Barbara came back out in a nightgown. He rolled over to keep from laughing, since he now felt the sudden urge to do so. Bloody drugs.
There was an added weight in the bed.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Sleeping, you roll that way, I'll sleep this way. I won't be here all night, so stop whining."
He couldn't protest much, because suddenly the tension that was in his jaw and he hadn't even realized it was gone, and his eyes couldn't stay open.
If you like my stuff, even though it's posted underneath Mystery for Sherlock Holmes, go check out my yahoogroup: Rose with Thorns.
† Yes? It's very early.
‡2, sleeping beauty.