Chapter 7
Saladin poked his head into Maleagant's cell. "Excuse me, are you the prisoner?"
She yawned and sat up on the mattress. "Next one. I'm just being quarantined because I shot Jon- Tristan."
Jonas stepped into the room. "Not anymore. Saladin's team looks like they wiped each other out, so you're fine."
She stood up, glancing back at the mattress and blanket. "Saladin, can you leave? We need to talk in private."
He nodded and disappeared out the doorway.
"I haven't told them yet," Jonas said. "You've no idea how much I want to. This is going to bite us back."
"You already said that. You also said I had one week."
Jonas said nothing.
Maleagant walked past him out the door of her cell, and towards the stairs, which had already been activated. "You still have all the notes?"
"In my drawer," Jonas said, climbing the steps behind her. "Why? You think there's some sort of secret code?"
"No, but it might tell us how that one got in my room." She exited the garage through a door connecting it to the main house, and turned right, going up the carpeted stairs.
The door across from Jonas' room was Maleagant's, and it was the largest room in the house. Gawain had said she deserved it after what had happened a year prior, but she begged to differ. She'd hardly done a thing, having stayed back in the Paris HQ while Caradoc and Gawain boarded a cargo ship and stopped Fischer.
She swung the room door inwards, to a green carpeted floor, double bed and a heavy oak dresser stashed in one corner. A flat-screen television was set on the wall where the end of the bed was pointing, and next to it, a study desk with Maleagant's own laptop charging on it.
"I forgot how spacey this is," Jonas said, walking over to the wardrobe. "And this wasn't here before."
"Mum sent it over while you were in Germany." Maleagant reached under her desk, and carefully tore the piece of tape secured to it off, retrieving the key she had stuck there. She inserted it into the lock in one of the drawers, and twisted. With a click, it unlatched, and she pulled it out.
An single piece of paper was nestled inside, slight crinkled and dog-eared. She picked it up and smoothed out the creases on the desk.
I really hope you haven't told anyone about that note, Holly. I'll know if you do.
"The question is," Jonas said over her shoulder, "how did he get it in your room while not appearing on any of the cameras?"
"We didn't see Saladin until we walked up the stairs either," Maleagant said.
"Oberon wasn't looking at the screen."
"Yeah, but that didn't trip off the alarm. Let's just ask him anyway, so we have an excuse to look at the footage on this day." She waved the note in his face.
"Let's get the rest first." Jonas strode out of her room and across the hallway, twisting the knob on his own door.
Jonas' abode was, in contrast to Maleagant's, chaotic and unorganised. His bed wasn't made, there were books on the floor and a pile of clothes laid next to the door. The rubbish bin next to his desk hadn't been emptied out either, and the faintest trace of a musky smell was emanating from it.
"And I forgot how messy yours was," Maleagant said. "If Caradoc sees this, he's going to ground you."
"He's not my dad."
"But he can still order you to stay in the room." She pulled open his desk drawer, only for it to contain a photograph album.
He pushed the drawer back in. "That's private property. I'm not as forgetful as you." Jonas got into a crouch, and then laid prone against the floor, his right arm reaching into the small gap between his bedframe and the floor. The hand came back out with a brown paper envelope, tied with a thin white string.
She plucked it out of his hand and unwrapped the string, and turned the flap open. Inside the envelope were assorted pieces of paper, all of which were identical size in to each other and the note Maleagant had. "What time is it?" she asked.
"Two in the morning. Never thought I'd have so much energy this late."
"All thanks to your training."
"Oh yeah, about training...you lied about the dog and shooting it."
"No I didn't," Maleagant said, flicking through each of the notes inside the envelope. "They changed it."
"Well, that explains a lot."
"I designed some of the new ones too. Like the deserted island one."
"What the fuck was that? You know, a week in, two of the recruits decided they weren't going to be rescued and wanted to 'repopulate the island'."
"Shhh." She pulled one of the notes out. "This was the first one."
"How's that going to help us? Actually, let me rephrase that: how's any of them going to help us?"
"I don't know."
"So you got me to take these out from under my bed for no reason?"
She put the notes back in the envelope. "Let's go see that security tape. We might see something."
"You're so indecisive," Jonas said, shaking his head.
Maleagant quickly made her way down both sets of stairs, to find Oberon asleep in front of his multiple monitors. She shook his shoulders, and his eyes opened slowly, focusing on her.
"I thought you took anti-sleep drugs?"
Oberon adjusted the glasses that were half-slipping off his face and sat up straight in the swivel chair. He stretched and yawned. "They don't work. Get a new brand next time, Jonas."
"How did Saladin get in without us knowing?" Jonas asked.
"That was my fault," Oberon said. "I wasn't looking at the camera feeds."
"Don't we have alarms?"
"Not in that tiny garage window in the back. Poor guy hardly squeezed through. Why the sudden interest?"
Maleagant glanced at Jonas. "Just thought we could help you. Figure out camera blind spots and entrances we might not be aware of."
"I did that a year ago, when we first set up here."
"Uh…" She drifted off.
"Look, I don't know what you want with my tapes, but I'll give you access. I'm guessing it's something private?"
"...yeah. Sort of. Thanks, Oberon."
"Just don't tell Val about this. She's so...so bitchy, sometimes. So yeah, better keep this away from him."
"What, she only wants you to use it for work?"
"Pretty much. I'll give you an hour, and then I'll block your access. Do what you want, I won't look."
"Thanks a bunch," Jonas said. "We'll get you a present or something.
"No, Jonas. I don't accept bribes."
"It's not a bribe."
"Correct. It's a gift completely unrelated to this event. How about...how about one of those fancy ergonomic chairs?"
Tahal took his seat in one of the leather-covered chairs around the circular table. The rest of the seats had been filled, with a few exceptions: Garth's chair, Diana's chair and the Texan's chair. The latter was due to the Texan himself, who was standing in front of the screen.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I must apologise for calling you up at such an ungodly hour."
The seated men and women muttered their no worries and no problems, but Tahal kept his lips sealed.
"A few of you might remember our friend Mr. Fontaine."
A murmur rippled around the table.
"A few hours ago, Marcel Fontaine was found dead, floating in the Seine." He aimed the small black remote at the screen and pressed a button, bringing a heavily censored image of Marcel's body up on the screen.
Even though majority of the gore had been cut out, Tahal could see that most of the Council members were dry heaving.
"Don't worry, Mr. Tahal has cleaned it all up. And speaking of Mr. Tahal, would you like to come up?"
"I'm fine."
The Chinese minister turned to him. "Actually, Mr. Tahal, we would like to hear how you...'Phase Three' is going."
Cursing under his breath, Tahal stood up as the Texan took his seat. He strode over to in front of the screen. "Before I report on Phase Three, I'd like to clear up a few things about Mr. Fontaine's passing." He pointed at the dark band around his neck; one of the areas not censored. "Marcel was killed by hanging. Very likely, from a helicopter."
"Kingsman?" the Briton asked.
"Unlikely. They would have done it a year ago. This is something new. Something we haven't accounted for."
"And how will this affect Phase Three?"
"It won't at all. The final step is already in place. This time, we'll eliminate Kingsman for good, and sir, your plan can continue." He nodded at the Texan.
The African man glanced at the empty seat beside him. "And Miss Vex? Any progress on that?"
"Mr. Hendricksen is working on that. So far, we've tracked her to Amsterdam, but the trail ends there. Most likely, she's hiding out with Kingsman."
"Are we in danger?" the Texan asked, frowning.
"Not that I know. If she spilled, I'd be the top of that list and I wouldn't be here right now. I'd say we're safe."
"Let's hope you're right, Tahal," the Briton said.
"I usually am. Now, as for Phase Three…"
Maleagant slumped on the desk in front of her computer, groaning. The words "Access Denied" were flashing on the screen. "Time's up, and we didn't get shit."
"Hey, it's okay." Jonas was lying on her bed. "He can't have come through the front door, can he? Why don't we go check that window Oberon mentioned?"
"Yeah…"
"Come on, Holly. This is two hours. I'm giving you a week. We've plenty of time."
"And maybe in that week, he doesn't leave anything else for us and we're out of leads. And then you tell them and now whoever it is is going to change tactics."
"Let's go. Before Dirk and Val come back."
Maleagant slowly stood up, her eyes half-closed. "I just wanna sleep right now."
"No time, Holly. Carpe Diem You know what that means?"
"Seize the day. Something I really am not in the mood for right now." An look of confusion came over her face. "Wait, when did you learn to speak Latin?"
"I've always known Latin." He opened the door. "Come on! No time to waste."
Maleagant sighed, and shuffled through the doorway, out into the corridor. "We're not going to find anything. It's been a week."
"Hey, you were the one who refused to ask Oberon then. I'm helping you, okay?"
"I...I guess?"
"Good."
They quietly descended the stairs, and exited the dark house through the front door. A town car soundlessly rumbled past them, its yellow headlights staining the bleak grey asphalt road.
Jonas rounded the corner of the house, Maleagant following behind. She kicked at the weeds that were growing in their yard.
The window Oberon mentioned was tiny. It was a little more than a sheet of glass to let light in, with a simple latch holding it in place.
"Locked from the inside," Jonas said.
"Told you this was a waste of time."
"So how did Saladin get in?"
"I'm too tired to care!" she moaned.
"You'll wake the neighbors." He put a hand to the glass, and pushed.
The entire panel swung inwards, although the latch was had locked it in place. Maleagant stared at it. "That's not supposed to happen."
"Okay, so if this is how Saladin and our guy got in, how long has he been doing this?"
Maleagant jumped when her watch made a sharp sound, and she took a deep breath, accepting the call that was coming through.
"I need you guys back down here right now," Oberon said. "I don't know what happened, but for some reason I can't contact Dirk and Val. Oh…"
"What?"
"And now their distress signals just turned on."