Edge. Part 37

"Aren't they? You've hired these guys for a reason. Something frightened you."

"Oh, my G.o.d."

"Your opponents think you're cracking up, which is why they're moving against you, subverting your shareholders and mounting takeover bids. Am I right?"

"Just who are you, Mr c.u.mberland?"

"Perhaps one of your security folk can tell you about Ghost Force, and the kind of people it turns out. I mostly do corporate training, including system security, not hunting for runaways."

"My friend Adam recommended your a.s.sociates, but how can I know whether to trust them?"

By a.s.sociates, Broomhall meant Geordie Biggs and his freelancers.

"This Adam was the person who introduced you to Dr d.u.c.h.esne?"

"That b.i.t.c.h. Yes."

It would be better for Josh's plans to say nothing about Suzanne, for Broomhall to a.s.sume there was no connection between them. That would be good strategically. But the battlefield was one thing; how he felt about Suzanne was something else.

"She gave Richard confidence to leave a bad situation. She probably saved his life, since he was about to go up against a blade. In St Michael's, I mean."

"But the school... No, they wouldn't allow it.""Don't you remember being a kid?" said Josh. "How much of what went on around you was hidden from teachers and other adults? How much, Broomhall?"

"I... Christ. Oh, Jesus Christ."

Josh smiled. "I believe your son is an atheist. Did you know that?"

"What do you mean? He's too young to have any... Oh. Are you a father, Mr c.u.mberland?"

A stillness curled around Josh; a silence coalesced.

"My daughter's lying brain-dead in a hospital bed. Your son is safe. Don't think you're the worst parent in the world, Mr Broomhall, because you're not."

Josh hadn't expected to reveal anything about himself. That was not how the game was played.

"I'm sorry." Broomhall rubbed his eyes, then held out his hand. "My name's Philip. Pleased to meet you."

It took a moment.

"I'm Josh." He reached out. "Good to finally meet you, Philip."

"Just don't ever call me Phil. I hate that."

"I promise I won't."

The physical attack had been a botched kidnapping, not an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt, and it had taken place near Moscow. Josh had known something must have happened, and that was it: a failed s.n.a.t.c.h on Russian soil. But the problem had not been local.

"I've done nothing to p.i.s.s off the Russians," Philip told Josh. "If anything, I'm making a great deal of money for everyone."

"No victims? No one losing their jobs, their land polluted by waste, compulsory purchase orders on their homes so someone can build corporate premises?"

"Actually no. Not as far as I know, and I do investigate."

"So you think it was someone employed by Tyndall, taking you out on foreign soil?"

"It would be the final straw. My whole group of companies would collapse, while Tyndall and his friends would plunder the remnants."

"You'd never prove a connection," said Josh. "There'd be so many corporate layers and cutouts, the trail would break long before you could prove that Tyndall said something to someone that resulted in a criminal act."

"That's what Adam told me."

"This Adam, do you trust him in your gut? I mean, free of doubts, straight from instinct?"

"Yes."

"All right. Without Dr d.u.c.h.esne's help, I could never have found Richard. If you agree he's unharmed, I want you to drop the lawsuit action."

"I... She helped?"

"If Richard needs saving, she's the one to do it."

"Christ." Philip curled his lower lip beneath his top teeth. "So my atheist son needs saving. You want to know something funny?"

"What?"

"I thought of going to see her myself. You know, making the appointment for Richard, but then I would show up myself. Because ever since Elena died... Well."

"Maybe you can do that later."

"Yes, maybe." Philip looked down, then up at Josh. "You didn't like it that I insulted Dr d.u.c.h.esne, did you?"

"No."

"All right. So you think I shouldn't see Richard. But I want to talk to him."

"Of course." Josh reached inside his pocket, and pulled out another phone. "We'll call you on this."

"Look, Mr... Josh. I believe you have Richard and he's safe, although exactly why I believe you, G.o.d knows. But why keep him away? This place is a fortress."

"Yes, and inside it all alone, you could easily be cracking up, hitting the booze and going nuts, worried about your missing son."

"That's not far from the"

"Or you could clean up your act and mount a little counteroffensive, all from inside these walls, with no one to observe."

Philip was very still. His smile began slowly, like the shoot of a new plant.

"What kind of counteroffensive? These are security guys, not an army."

"I mean your kind of warfare. The kind with accountants and lawyers, balance sheets and contracts. Alliances and plots with employees, a.s.sociates, clients, suppliers. Whoever."

Now the smile grew.

"I'll need to work round the clock," said Broomhall. "Talk to people very privately, all sorts of people, especially key shareholders."

"The kind of thing a distraught, drunken father couldn't manage?"

"Exactly that kind of thing."

"Good," said Josh. "Then we're getting there. That's your part settled."

"My part?"

"I can't let you have all the fun."

"Your job is to guard Richard."

"His street friends call him Richie. I wonder if it'll stick."

"Street friends?""One of whom is in hospital now, badly injured, because she wanted to protect him."

"My G.o.d, just how did you find him?"

"He'd moved into a squat, joined a community, and believe it or not they look out for each other. He did have some nights sleeping rough, but after that he was pretty well looked after."

Philip shook his head, as if trying to shuffle information by physical movement. "You'll call me? So I can talk to him?"

"Yes. From a friend's place, where he's safe."

"Thank you."

"You're very"

"But you haven't told me what you're up to. I can save my companies from Tyndall, and by G.o.d I will."

"And what about Billy Church, our wonderful prime minister?"

"The PM? The government supports Tyndall, because Zebediah's been around a long time and knows everybody. I happen to believe that most civil servants are honest, and some goodly percentage of politicians. But between Tyndall and Church's cronies, an awful lot of dirty work gets buried away. More than you'd imagine."

Ever since Yukiko had shown those pictures of Knifefight Challenge, and Josh had thought about the blatant manipulation of public sentiment, the coincidental timing of the Knife Edge Knife Edge final and the general election, with Billy Church linked to the sporting event... ever since then, a part of him had been searching for a target, someone or something to take down, some way to destroy the corruption that appalled him. final and the general election, with Billy Church linked to the sporting event... ever since then, a part of him had been searching for a target, someone or something to take down, some way to destroy the corruption that appalled him.

"So there's your answer."

"What do you mean?" said Philip."You're going to save your companies from the Tyndalls. I'm going to save everyone else."

"How can you possibly do that?"

Josh felt his mouth pull back, his voice go soft.

"Violently."

[ TWENTY-FOUR ].

At night St Thomas's looked bleak. Some twenty minutes before visiting hours were due to end, Josh wheeled into the car park, and found a s.p.a.ce. A few drops of rain spotted the tarmac and his clothes as he crossed the open s.p.a.ce. Inside, the receptionists were helpful, and told him he needed Springfield Ward. After he had ascended two floors, a nurse pointed him in the direction he needed. When he reached Springfield, Suzanne and Richard were still there. She was at the foot of the bed, while Richard stood at the side, gazing at Opal's bandaged face.

"Hey," he said, keeping his voice low. "How's everything?"

Suzanne probably saw how tightness spread through him. How he had to struggle to look at the girl in the bed.

"Opal was talking earlier."

Right now the girl's eyes were shut, bruised purple. Tubes and bandages were everywhere. No twitch of movement from her hands. Yet somehow from the rise and fall of her chest, from the colour of her skin she transmitted a sense of impending animation, a potential for health and aliveness. Not like Sophie, whose form held absence, not promise.

"She was talking coherently?"

"Yes. And she can wiggle her fingers. Oh... Look."

Richard had reached forward to hold Opal's hand. He remained there, not even blinking, his face intent as though trying to force telepathic healing into her.

Josh reached for Suzanne's fingers, and gently squeezed.

"Did you talk to the doctors?"

"Yes, and read the notes." Suzanne pointed at a screen on the end of the beds. "See that little abbreviation? SBA?"

"In the comment field." Free-format text. Hardly the best way to enter codes.

"Private notation among the medics. Should Be Alright. As opposed to BAP, b.l.o.o.d.y Awkward Patient, or WOO, Waste of Oxygen."

"You are joking."