city of anarchy
chapter seven
Hermes took back his shirt. The nurse handed it to him with a glare and he accepted it with superior reverence. Slowly and deliberately he buttoned his cuffs, transferring his attention from one to the other with an exaggerated flick of his wrist. Then he put on his tie. The nurse, a stout and chubby figure, folded her arms and continued to glare.
Hermes fixed his collar, nodded curtly to her, and marched stiffly but importantly to the door.
'And you leave me with your trousers as what?' enquired the nurse. 'A gift of thanks?'
The boy swivelled around to meet her smug, satisfied expression. As he felt the redness entering his face, he hobbled back and snatched them from her hands. 'Not if you don't want them,' he said.
'Not so fast,' the nurse added, as Hermes turned to leave once again. 'We need to go through a few safety pointers before I discharge you.'
Hermes made a noise of frustration.
'Have we commandeered surveillance?' demanded Agent Avgi.
'I had it before it was even a twinkle in your mind's eye,' replied Beans.
'Flick through them.'
Beans did so: entrance, reception area, main hall, corridors, Mayor's office...
'Right, I want each of you watching somewhere different,' ordered Avgi. 'It is imperative that the Mayor remains completely unaware of our plan. Obviously Agents Ian and Yvonne cannot keep talking to themselves, so I want constant updates on their and everyone else's position from you.'
The analysts got to it.
'Where are they now? In the main hall?'
'Yep,' said Beans.
The main hall was a massive room used for a variety of ostentatious functions, all according to Mayor Mawgly's passing needs. It was far from the humble or even respectably austere look that would have been more appropriate for a city hall. Ornaments and paintings lined the walls. A weighty chandelier hung from the ceiling. Orchestral music issued from speakers.
Agent Yvonne and her company for the evening surveyed the clusters of expensively dressed people before them. Highly respected individuals chatted and chortled with both refined accents and accented refinement.
Yvonne spied the unmistakable, hulking figure of Commander Brutt positioned with permanent proximity to the buffet table, although as Ambassador Hsing she of course had no idea who he was and would have to acquire that information from somebody else. His smart black evening wear gave the impression of being far too big for him, while at the same time suggesting that any respectable size would be ridiculously small on his bulky, brooding frame. In his tuxedo he looked more like a thug than ever.
'Let us mingle,' said the Agent.
'Where's the Mayor now?' asked Avgi.
'She's still welcoming guests,' someone told her. 'Although the new arrivals are only a trickle now.'
'Agents,' Avgi said, and the two undercover heard her in their earpieces. 'We'll have our eye on Mawgly, but Commander Brutt will have his eyes on everyone. I want you to assimilate yourselves and make yourselves known, in character of course, to strengthen your cover. Then you need to gradually make your way over to Brutt. One of you will have to keep him distracted.'
Yvonne, assuming a stately and leisurely pace, stepped forward and smiled as a hunched old lady dressed in glittering blue turned amiably to make her acquaintance. Agent Ian shook hands with the lady's husband, who had followed her example.
Yvonne glanced over her shoulder and saw Mayor Mawgly enter, shaking her mane of dark red hair, nimbly acquiring two glasses of champagne from a waiter's platter. She tilted her head back and poured the contents of the first down her throat.
The Agents continued along the dancing chain of acquaintances and compliments, moving like graceful pinballs through the chattering party.
A woman with wide, disquieted eyes shifted her intense gaze around the room and then scuttled over to the Mayor's side, a collection of jagged shapes within her purple gown rather than the curved elegance that the straining gown demanded. Her dark hair was in a half-collapsed bun, rogue strands of hair floating with a strange sentience about her head.
Mawgly did nothing in the way of politeness or courteousness as the strange creature spoke to her, instead turning her attention to the second glass.
'Who's that?' said Avgi, pointing at the spindly woman. The woman was folding her hands over each other agitatedly.
Beans idly followed her finger. He shrugged. 'Just another ugly person with lots of money,' he said.
Agent Sofia, holding her bandaged arm, leaned over his shoulder. 'I think that's...Governor somebody. I forget her name. Makes sense that she's there, though.'
'Mayor doesn't seem too pleased about it,' said Beans. 'Oh, she's moving away now. Spotted someone else she'd rather be talking to.'
The spindly woman folded her hands a few more times and then scuttled away to hover about the edges of a gathering elsewhere.
'Agents Yvonne and Ian are now approaching Commander Brutt,' the room was informed.
Brutt watched them walk towards him.
'Commander Brutt?' queried Yvonne, inclining her head with an expression of apologetic innocence.
'Yes,' said Brutt, nodding courteously. 'Yourselves?'
'Ambassador Hsing,' said Yvonne, taking his hand. 'And this is Richard.'
'Nice to meet you,' rumbled Brutt. 'I hope you're, er...enjoying the party.'
'Oh yes,' Yvonne enthused. 'It's most enjoyable. And just what I needed!' She laughed; Brutt smiled humourlessly. 'Although,' Yvonne continued, 'I was sorry to hear about the tragedy involving the Conceptual Realisation Facility the other night. I am glad to hear that you're making progress with your investigation, Commander. It really is very commendable.'
Avgi looked without humour at the monitor. 'Agent Yvonne, excuse yourself,' she ordered. 'We have Mawgly occupied for the time being, but we may lose our chance. Agent Ian, keep the Commander busy.'
'Thank you for your kind words, Ambassador. I merely do what I must.'
Yvonne smiled. Her face ached from it by now. 'Oh, do excuse me, Commander,' she said, placing a hand on his arm. 'I'm afraid I may have had a little too much champagne already. It was lovely meeting you, and I wish you all the luck with your investigations.' Brutt watched her leave, and then turned back to Richard. He was grinning.
'She has a bladder problem,' he said conspiratorially, and chuckled.
Brutt raised an eyebrow.
'Tell me, Commander--' Agent Ian placed a fist to his mouth to politely remove some excess air and allowed himself to sway a little. 'Are you a fan of badminton?'
Hermes stepped out into the broad corridor, finally free: free of the bed and free of the nurse. Complete with trousers. It was time to leave.
Ignoring the nurse's advice to keep it slow, he hobbled down the corridor to the nearest elevator and pressed at the buttons before noticing a sign informing him that it was out of order. He tried a second one, but it was in use and had several stops to make many floors below. Hermes looked along the corridor for any other functional elevators. Then he looked down at his legs.
He sighed. He had already been waiting long enough.
He hobbled back the way he had come and located the stairs. He braced himself at the top of the stairwell. It would be a long and difficult journey; but as his fingers tingled and an unexpected surge of adrenaline took hold, Hermes found himself lurching forward and clattering carelessly down the steps.
Holly's head was nodding at her chest as she felt herself slipping into the fuzzy world of sleep. Being tied to a chair was exceptionally boring and Angus was already asleep. Holly ached all over, and combined with the fact that she had been severely short of proper sleep or food recently, it all contributed to a kind of very mild delirium.
Then she heard voices, close but far away; at first not distinct enough to pick out words, but enough to keep prodding her back to groggy consciousness. With great effort, she lifted her head. Her neck and back hurt.
Her brain finally realised that there was a conversation occurring on the other side of the door in strained voices that were trying their best to keep low. Holly forced herself to focus and decide what was being said.
'...What if we can get them to see our side of things?'
'We can't trust them to not go telling, Dorz!'
'It's worth a try, isn't it? Eh? I mean, what else do you propose?'
Holly listened to the silence.
'It's not going to happen,' came the definitive reply. She heard footsteps. The conversation had ended.
Holly stared at the door with half-closed eyes, half her mind still in the murk, the other half pondering their words.
Agent Yvonne slipped out of the main hall and glanced to her right before smoothing out her black dress. Then she made her way down the corridor, her heels stepping in assured strides.
The secretary's desk was empty. She glanced at the concierges stood by the entrance, smiling as they watched her pass. The carpeted corridor ahead of her was empty of people save one or two party guests leaving the bathroom.
'Careful, Yvonne,' came Avgi's voice. 'That woman the Mayor was talking to has left the hall. She appears to be wondering around aimlessly.'
Yvonne turned discreetly to see her walking around the foyer in her contorted purple dress, her shoulder blades moving like a cockroach's hind legs. She paused, looked at Yvonne, turned around and looked back into the main hall, turned again and looked, for some reason, at the oak panelling on the wall behind her, and then went and scuttled around the concierges, who looked distinctly uncomfortable.
Yvonne pushed open the door to the lavatory. She made her way over to the mirrored wall above the sinks, fixed her hair and smoothed out her eyebrows. Her earrings, pearl-drops on the ends of threads of silver, glinted in the pale light.
'She's gone,' said Avgi. 'Go now.'
The Agent, pulling the strap of her tiny black bag up her shoulder, stepped out of the lavatory, took one glance in the direction she had come and hurried calmly towards the Mayor's office. She tried one of the double doors. 'We're in luck,' she whispered. 'It's unlocked.' Glancing about her once more, she pushed it a smidge further open and slipped into the office, closing it behind her just as more guests emerged from the hall en route to the toilets. The lights in the room had been left on.
'You're inside?'
'Yes.'
'Hide them somewhere they won't be found,' Avgi said, watching her as she appeared on the screen from an angled perspective above. 'Maybe attach one to the light fixture on the ceiling. The other one can go under the desk.'
Agent Yvonne unhooked one of her pearl-drop earrings. 'Tell me if anyone comes,' she said. She rolled the leather swivel chair around the desk and placed it below the light. Removing her shoes, she climbed up onto the chair, steadied herself and sought an inconspicuous location to place the tiny device. She peeled a thin, transparent layer from the pearl-drop and stuck it over the screw, holding it in place as she tugged at and broke off the metal thread to which it was attached. Then, climbing down and dragging the chair back with her, she unhooked the second earring, knelt down and fixed it to the underside of the desk where hands wouldn't find it.
Once that job was done, she got to her feet and surveyed the room. What else could she find?
Hermes had slowed his pace. His legs were in some pain, and the thrill of descending endless flights of stairs had left him. He was sure that he was nearing the bottom, however. He was also getting more used to controlling his lower limbs now, although they still had a tendency to be uncooperative at times.
As he slowly lowered himself down step after step, he found himself wondering yet again what he was going to do with himself once he was out.
Then the lights flickered and everything was, rather unexpectedly, plunged into darkness.
All the analysts started screaming.
'What happened?' demanded Agent Avgi over the noise.
'Power's down!' cried Beans.
'Do we still have Yvonne?'
'No!'
'Somebody get us back in operation! Go and find out what happened!' She withdrew her pistol and fired high shots into the air. 'BE QUIET, YOU BASTARDS!' She rotated. 'Agent Sofia, where are you?'
'I'm here,' came a voice by her side.
'Control these analysts! Beans, can we re-establish a connection?'
Beans shook his head, somewhat pointlessly. 'Not until we're online again.'
Yvonne opened a desk drawer and inspected its contents, unaware that Mayor Mawgly had left the hall and was tipsily pulling a man by his bowtie down the corridor after her.
When Hermes heard voices and the squeak of a silenced gunshot, he found himself unexpectedly unbalanced sought the support of the banister. He felt his breathing steepen and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Leaning over the edge, he attempted to make out what was going on a couple of floors below and saw torchlight. For a moment an Agent looked back at him, surrounded by a crimson puddle.
Gripping the banister, Hermes felt cold sweat as he tried to decide what to do next. The shrill noise of another shot jolted him into action; but instead of going back up, without knowing why, he found himself moving down toward them.
'Agent Avgi,' reported Yvonne, 'so far I have found nothing. Should I keep looking?' She waited. 'Agent Avgi? Do you copy?'
Then Agent Yvonne heard footsteps. With no time to ponder the reasons why Avgi had not warned her, she closed the desk drawers, ran over to retrieve her shoes and looked wildly around the office for a place to hide.
Outside the door, Mawgly giggled and pulled off the man's jacket.
'But Mayor,' the man said weakly, 'this is highly inappropriate! This is, after all, a formal occasion!'
'Then we can do it on my desk,' Mawgly stated bluntly, with the man's shirt in her hands. She gracelessly kicked the door open with her leg.
Agent Avgi launched herself down the stairs, ordering all Agents in the building to convene at ground level where Agents Harry and Ed had not responded when called for.
Some fifty floors below, Hermes approached the last flight of steps. He paused, seeing the shape of a man stood at the base of the stairwell. He watched as other figures in white boilersuits hurried out of the building, some emerging from its subterranean levels. The boy felt his spine tingle as the stationary man turned his head to reveal a strange, shiny black mask.
'Faster,' he said to the others as two men rushed to the exit carrying between them a large plastic box.
Thinking quickly, or perhaps not thinking at all, Hermes pulled off his tie and stretched it taut experimentally in his hands. He waited until he was almost sure that all but the last man had exited the building.
The figure remaining swept the torch around one last time before making to move. Hermes chose that moment to recklessly abandon his hidden position, clattering clumsily down the steps and throwing his tie over the man's head, pulling it tight around his neck before he had the chance to turn around. The man choked and clawed at the tie. His torch crashed to the ground.
Hermes pulled them both down onto the stairs. He felt himself losing the battle to keep the tie in place. He let go and the man lurched forward. At the same time, Hermes swooped down and picked up the torch. As the man stumbled to get up, Hermes hit him over the head with it. Again. And again. And again.
He took a moment to catch his breath, his heart pounding more than it had ever done in his life and the blood throbbing at his temples.
'Where's Kingbald?' came a voice from outside. 'Has he come out yet? We can't leave without him!'
'He'll be out in a minute, just wait!'
Glancing at the doorway for a few heartstopping seconds to see if any of them would return, Hermes then tore the black mask from the man's face. He looked briefly at him before deciding he would leave him to the Agents. Frantically, he kicked off his shoes and put on the man's black boots. He removed the man's boilersuit, revealing khaki combat trousers and a black shirt beneath. Putting on the boilersuit, he heard the frenzied voices of the Agents descending on his position. He glanced down at the man, dead or unconscious, hoping that his own height and hair colour would be a close enough match. Then he put on the mask, pulling the straps tight at the back, and left the building.
'Come on!' screamed somebody, opening the door of one of two white vans waiting outside, their engines running. Hermes climbed in, scared out of his mind and not knowing what he was doing nor why he was doing it.
The white vans roared into motion as the Agents crashed out onto the street and watched them depart. The Sir Tenebrous Tower, devoid of light, loomed like a monstrous black pillar above them.