Day of Deliverance Page 11

  “This one?” Delgado asked, pointing at one of the small control pads.

  “Yes, that one. You have to press it quite hard.”

  “What will it do?”

  “Nothing really, just a little… er… trick of the light.”

  Delgado pressed the button and Jack closed his eyes and leaned away.

  The air around the three men shimmered. Suddenly the gloomy cellar exploded in incandescent white light. When Jack opened his eyes again, the three Spaniards had vanished into thin air.

  Jack turned to Angus. “Now, that is magic.”

  Angus couldn’t contain himself. “Get me out of this!” he cried. Jack was still manacled to the wall but with his hands free he just managed to reach over to Angus beside him and loosen the rope around his wrists sufficiently for Angus to twist them out.

  “What about these stupid chains?”

  “You’ve got me there.” The heavy iron manacles that still encased their ankles were chained to the wall.

  “There should be a key somewhere…”

  “Unless it was in our nice Spanish friend’s pocket and it’s been zapped into hyper-space with him… you do realise what you’ve done?”

  Jack exhaled. “Sorry – it was all I could think of at the time.”

  Angus’s lip curled up in a half smile. “Actually it was pretty cool. Hilarious in fact. What will have happened to them?”

  “No idea. Depends on the space–time fix in the time phone. Guess it was still set from when we left – so maybe it will go straight back to the Taurus. Maybe our VIGIL friends back home will have a little surprise when they come face to face with the Spanish Inquisition. Mind you, the phone was not recalibrated before they went, so for all I know they could have ended up on the moon.”

  “With any luck they’ve been vaporised. Those guys were something else. I’d love to see their faces. Imagine if the Taurus has zapped them onto the top of the Forth Road Bridge… or the Statue of Liberty or something, by mistake!”

  “We’ve got other things to worry about. We have a time signal – great. So all the time phones should be activated. Which means we could time travel out of here, except for the fact that we’re still tied to these stupid chains and the other time phones are over there on the table.”

  In the excitement, they had forgotten all about Fanshawe, who was still attached to the rack, in the middle of the room. In contrast to a few minutes previously, he was completely silent. He stared gormlessly from his elevated position on the rack at the spot where the three Spaniards had just… disappeared. His jaw hung loosely from his gaping mouth.

  “Are you okay, Harry?”

  It was as if Fanshawe had not even heard the words. He just kept staring into space.

  Jack tried again, louder, “Harry – you okay? Can you free yourself and get us out of these chains?”

  Fanshawe blinked. He whispered, “It is a miracle. We are saved…”

  “Yeah. Something like that,” Angus said.

  “But… how…?” Poor old Fanshawe had endured complete sensory overload in the last hour. He had been kidnapped, threatened with torture and then seen three grown men vanish into thin air.

  Jack sighed in frustration. “Harry… can you try and work yourself free of that thing and unchain us?”

  It was no use. Even if Fanshawe had been in the appropriate mental state, which he wasn’t, he was well and truly trussed up.

  “What now?” Angus said.

  “If VIGIL are doing their job properly, they should also have got a space–time fix on our location and time period through the time phones.”

  “But the Revisionists’ time phones are also activated so they will know where we are too.”

  “That’s if Whitsun and Gift have escaped and reconnected with the Revisionists. Then they’ll have told them that we’ve got their phones, and they won’t be happy.”

  “So we just have to wait and see who gets here first…?” Angus pulled on the chain again in frustration. But it was hopeless. They had got rid of the Spaniards, but they were still stuck.

  “What’s that?” Jack said, suddenly.

  “Footsteps? Upstairs in the house? Someone’s here already?”

  “But is it VIGIL or the Revisionists?”

  “Or some other joker?”

  There was an almighty crash as the cellar door was forced open and splinters of wood rained down the stone stairs. Next, they heard someone gingerly making their way down the steps into the cellar. Angus and Jack craned their heads to try and make out the figure, but from their position, chained to the wall, their view was impaired. Suddenly a powerful beam of light shone towards them.

  Jack whispered to Angus, “A torch?”

  They didn’t recognise the figure silhouetted behind the bright light at first.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. It looks like I got here just in time.” The voice was unmistakable – Dr Pendelshape.

  Pendelshape scanned the room quickly to make sure there was no one else there. He then turned his attention to Jack and Angus.

  “We don’t have much time. We’ve got to get you out of those chains.”

  “Yes, but we don’t know where the key is.”

  Pendelshape searched the wooden tabletops. The first things he spotted were the remaining three time phones laid out on one of the tables.

  “At least we have those back,” he said. “And an extra one… a VIGIL time phone.” He smiled. “Now that is going to come in handy.” He opened each of them in turn and powered them down. “We don’t want anyone else to know where we are just now, do we?”

  He quickly looked through the boys’ backpacks, that had been left on the floor, and found the two pistols belonging to Whitsun and Gift.

  “I think you’re still a bit young to be carrying firearms.”

  Pendelshape picked up the letter from Marlowe that lay, opened, on the table. He read it quickly and nodded. “As we thought – it confirms what we already know.” He put the letter back on the table and started looking about for the keys.

  “Let’s try these.” He held up a metal ring with a number of large keys hanging from it and soon Jack and Angus were free.

  “I have a carriage waiting outside that can take us to safety.” He paused and looked over at Fanshawe. “But there is one final piece of business I must attend to first.”

  Pendelshape opened his doublet. Beneath it was a tight-fitting vest, similar to those the boys wore. It had a number of pockets and recesses and Jack noticed that one recess was shaped like a holster. It was from this that Pendelshape pulled out a pistol. He strode matter-of-factly over to where Fanshawe still lay and pointed the gun at his head. The action closely mimicked that of Whitsun and Gift outside Cambridge only a few days before.

  “No!” Jack screamed.

  Pendelshape swivelled round, a bemused expression on his face.

  “No?”

  “You can’t just kill him!”

  “He’s seen too much… he knows too much about the plot. He may upset our plan.”

  Jack was outraged that Pendelshape, just like his thuggish friends Whitsun and Gift, could contemplate such a barbaric act.

  “But, but… he knows nothing. The poor guy has simply been a messenger. He does not know who you are – or who we are for that matter. He is utterly harmless.”

  Fanshawe, who was still attached to the rack, was slowly regaining his senses.

  “I do not know anything of this… please…” he begged.

  Pendelshape thought for a moment and shrugged. “So be it. I will release you – you have young Jack here to thank – but you must leave this house at once. If you return or speak of any of these events you risk your life. Do you understand?” The decision not to murder Fanshawe was taken as easily as the decision seconds before to kill him. Jack was staggered by Pendelshape’s casual disregard for human life. Fanshawe looked at Pendelshape and then back at Jack. Jack nodded. Fanshawe sobbed with relief. Jack had saved his life twice in on
e day.

  They emerged from the cellar into a large kitchen at the back of the house. It was night-time now and they could see only by the light from Pendelshape’s torch and a few candles that had been left to burn down. Pendelshape led them to the front door of the house and out into a clear, cold night. It felt good to be out of the dank cellar, breathing the fresh, crisp air. A small carriage waited with its driver a little further down the road.

  Pendelshape pointed out Fanshawe’s route. “That way – it will take you to the Ludgate Hill eventually. And remember what I told you,” he added menacingly.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Fanshawe answered.

  Pendelshape turned to the carriage driver and whispered some instructions.

  “Right – you two in there. No funny business. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Jack and Angus had little choice. Fanshawe shook Angus’s hand and then glanced towards Pendelshape and the carriage, before putting both his hands over Jack’s and looking him in the eye. “Thank you, Jack, for all you have done for me.” Then he whispered, “I will repay you.”

  Pendelshape was getting impatient. “Go!” he boomed out, as Fanshawe scurried off into the night.

  Jack, Angus and Pendelshape climbed into the carriage and it rumbled off. Drained by a traumatic day, Jack, and then Angus, fell asleep.

  The carriage picked its way up the bumpy road and away from the riverside mansions. An hour after it had melted into the night, two furtive figures appeared at the door of the house that they had just left. After an initial check around the outside, the two men proceeded to break into the house and search it. They found it empty but for the sinister torture equipment secreted in its cellar. If Jack and Angus had left the house only an hour later, they would have met the men and recognised them immediately as Tony and Gordon, their comrades from VIGIL.

  Where are we?” Jack asked. He peered through a small window onto a muddy farmyard. The fields beyond had been dusted white from a light flurry of snow.

  “Wembley Stadium,” Pendelshape said matter-of-factly as he busied himself at a small wood stove. He was cooking eggs and bacon, and had already managed to produce a pot of very acceptable coffee. He seemed to be completely at home. “Not literally of course. It’s where the new Wembley Stadium will be in the future. You’re probably sitting exactly where the England team would get changed.” He craned his head to view the frozen farmland that stretched into the distance. “As you can see, it’s a pretty far cry from the view out there today.” He served the eggs and bacon onto three dishes and placed them on the table. Jack was ravenous and the food smelled incredibly good.

  Pendelshape had based himself in a farmer’s cottage. He had negotiated a generous rent in return for complete privacy for the duration of his stay. The cottage was on two floors – a higgledy-piggledy oak-framed construction. It was quite well appointed. The beds had been dry, and when the fire got going, the house warmed up quickly. In any case, when they had arrived the night before in the carriage, Jack had been so exhausted that he had fallen asleep as soon he had got into bed.

  Pendelshape ate slowly, eyeing Jack and Angus thoughtfully from time to time. He had not really changed. Maybe he had shed some weight from his portly frame, but the crow’s feet around his deep-set eyes and the cropped grey hair were still the same. The last time Jack had seen Pendelshape was in a First World War trench six months earlier. That was when he showed Jack and Angus the true horrors of war in a final attempt to get them to desert VIGIL and join him and Jack’s father. Jack and Angus saw the horrors of war all right – Pendelshape’s badly conceived escapade nearly got them killed in the process. It was the final straw for Jack – the moment that finally convinced him that meddling in history was too dangerous, however well planned and well meaning. It was also the moment when he had realised that Pendelshape had a screw loose. Jack had seen him turn from being his affable but eccentric History teacher into a fanatic who would stop at nothing to get his own way.

  *

  “So, gentlemen, it would appear that we have some decisions to make.” Pendelshape spoke calmly, but Jack could feel the menace in his voice. “Or to be more precise, you have some decisions to make. But first of all, I should perhaps explain what you are embroiled in. I have to say that you have been extremely lucky to escape with your lives.”

  “I think we know that,” Angus said, through a mouthful of bacon.

  Pendelshape ignored him. “First things first. I am sure you will be pleased to hear that my colleagues, Mr Whitsun and Mr Gift, have recovered. I understand from them that you two had nothing to do with their injuries… which I am glad to hear. They have learned a valuable lesson.”

  “Where are they?” Jack asked.

  “They managed to make it to our rendezvous… somewhat worse for wear, and they have now been deployed elsewhere, ready for the next stage of our plan. We will meet them later.”

  “What were they doing in Cambridge – and how did they know we were there?”

  “The people who kidnapped you were Spanish spies. Marlowe works for them. But what they don’t know is that he also works for Walsingham – Queen Elizabeth’s spymaster. Marlowe is a double agent. The letter contains details of a plot against the English state.”

  “What kind of plot?”

  “As you know, Jack, this is a dangerous period in history. Phillip II of Spain has finally lost his patience with England. English ships have continued to steal from Spanish ships. Under Elizabeth, England is a Protestant country – Catholics are tolerated, although there is much tension between the two religions. The execution of Mary, Queen of Scots, a few days ago, was the final straw. Mary was implicated in a plot to overthrow Elizabeth and for this she was executed. Killing a fellow monarch is a grave act. The history books tell us that Phillip plans to capture the English throne and finally get rid of Elizabeth. He is mobilising a mighty navy – the Armada.”

  “Didn’t Miss Beattie tell us that that the Armada was defeated?” Angus said.

  “It will be. The whole thing is badly conceived, badly planned and badly executed. In addition, the Spanish do not take into account the superior design of English ships, gunnery and tactics. And finally, of course, there is the weather; the storms that finally scatter Phillip’s great ships off the coasts of Scotland and Ireland. Half of the Armada’s one hundred and thirty ships will be lost or irreparably damaged. England will lose none. The loss of Spanish crew and soldiers will be equally severe. Two-thirds of the Armada’s thirty thousand men will die – and for every one killed in battle, another seven will perish by execution or drowning, or die from disease, starvation or thirst.”

  Pendelshape had a glint in his eye as spoke. It was as if Jack were back in his History class.

  “The Armada’s attempted attack will end in tragedy. And from that point on, the balance of power in the world will gradually tip in England’s favour. The defeat of the Armada is a turning point.”

  “But why does this concern you? You’re not just on another field visit, are you?”

  “No, Jack, as I’m quite sure you are aware.” He refilled his coffee cup. “Let me show you something.”

  Pendelshape got to his feet and walked over to a case on the other side of the kitchen. He opened it up, took out a slim laptop and placed it on the table in front of them. The device looked completely out of place in the old kitchen.

  “Nice computer, Sir.” Angus had not quite lost the habit of calling Pendelshape ‘Sir’.

  “Indeed. But you won’t find this one on the market at home. We’ve had to make a number of modifications to run our simulation software.” He tapped the keyboard. “Now, this should do it. Yes, you can take a look if you like.”

  Pendelshape swivelled the screen round to allow Jack and Angus a better view. It showed a picture of earth. It looked a bit like Google Earth, except in one corner there were the words ‘Timeline Simulator’ and in the other the date and time. There were a number of complicated toolbar
s at the bottom and left of the screen.

  “So this is a political representation of the world as it is today, February, 1587. You can see England and Scotland (two different kingdoms, of course), France and the Italian city states. And there is Spain, shaded in yellow. You can already see Spain’s influence in the New World – Central and South America – and in other places like the Netherlands. In fact, it is the Spanish army in the Netherlands that Phillip II plans to transport to England, using the Armada to defeat the English. You can see just from the colouring on the map that Spain is a major power, although you don’t see the wealth of Spain, which is also huge, because of the stream of gold and especially silver transported from the New World. Anyway, look what happens if I run the simulation forward. I’ll do this on the ‘Baseline Simulation’ – this shows what happens if you don’t make any interventions in history as it currently stands.”

  Pendelshape touched the screen, and the year counter on the right started to count forward the months and the years.

  “Cool!” Angus was impressed.

  Jack rolled his eyes.

  As the years progressed on screen the colours on the map grew and shrank in line with the political influence of the various countries of the world. The yellow of Spain began to shrink. The small red blob that denoted England slowly started to grow. First, it extended to Scotland and then to North America. As the year counter ticked its way through the nineteenth century, the red shading grew across all parts of the world like an infectious disease: India, Australia, Africa – the British Empire. At the same time, the extension of power of the other European nations was shown: blue for France and black for a unified Germany. The counter then moved on through the twentieth century to show the rise of the Soviet Union and the United States and the decline of the old European countries.

  “It’s like a game,” Angus said.

  Jack was a little less impressed. “Looks nice – but what does it mean?”