The fence kept away anyone who might get too interested, or kids thinking that breaking in would be a good for a laugh. But it was just window dressing. Anyone getting past the fence would notice that the runway further into the compound was oddly free of any grass, and the tarmac was smooth and well maintained. And a close look at the front of the hanger would make it obvious that the vines had been allowed to grow in a very specific way, never obstructing the entrance.
Military signs, bright yellow and black, each the size of a manhole cover, adorned the fence at regular intervals. They extolled the notion that anyone caught trespassing would be arrested and charged without fail. Some of them suggested armed guards were still patrolling the area.
The airstrip was in fact fully functional all year long, and served as a very private landing spot in the south of England. It was staffed all year, too, although most of the workers actually stayed in an underground complex, only coming up to deal with those landing and taking off.
Whenever someone landed, the place buzzed with activity. Whoever was arriving usually supplied their own security staff to maintain the area, which was made evident by the armed guards who stood at the entrance and waved me through.
I took the bike into the open hanger and switched off the engine.
"You took your damn time," Tommy said from a nearby chair, his feet up on the table beside him.
I took notice of the sandwich in his hand, the wonderful smell of bacon wafted toward me and my mouth watered. "Yes, you look incredibly pained," I said.
I turned and took in the jet that sat idly on one side of the huge hanger, and was surprised to see a young girl exit the plane. "This is awesome," she squealed and almost jumped down the stairs connecting the jet to the hanger floor ten feet below.
"Kasey," I said with surprise, and turned to Tommy. "You decided it was a good idea to bring your daughter."
Before he could answer, Kasey raced over to us. "What's the plane called?" she said with obvious excitement.
"It's called a Pegasus, or a Pegasus 1488, to give it the full name."
"It's amazing," she said. "I've never seen a plane like it."
The Pegasus was an incredible feat of engineering. Its owner, like most of the truly powerful members of Avalon, was probably four or five generations of technology ahead of anything humans had access to. The jet was a sort of amalgamation of a Concorde at the front and an SR-71 Blackbird at the rear. I'd been inside it several times on long journeys, and was fully aware of the luxury it contained.
"It has beds in there, Dad."
"I know, Kase" he said with a smile. "She's a bit excited," he told me.
"Never would have guessed. I thought eleven-year-olds were meant to be on their way to being permanently surly."
"She likes flying." Tommy grinned. "Kase, why don't you go on board and pick yourself out a chair."
She didn't need to be told twice, and was off like a shot, taking the steps two at a time until vanishing back inside the fuselage.
"What the hell?" I asked.
"I couldn't leave her with Olivia. It's too dangerous."
"Does Olivia know whom we're going to see?"
Tommy nodded.
"Does Kasey?"
He shook his head. "If I told her, she'd ask a million questions. And as it's a four hour flight. I'd rather not have to go the whole way sitting with the Spanish inquisition."
"She has a bunch of questions for me, doesn't she," I said with sudden realisation.
"A whole notebook full," Tommy confirmed. "It's in her backpack. She's looking forward to it."
"You could have stopped her, you know."
"Could have, didn't want to."
Before I could call Tommy a very rude name, a female flight attendant came over and informed us that we'd be leaving shortly. I thanked her and she smiled, flicking her long blonde hair off her shoulder before walking back to the jet.
"How do you do that?" Tommy asked.
"Do what?"
"Have beautiful women want to drop their pants after talking to you?"
I shrugged. "Didn't know they did. Must be my inherent charm."
Tommy laughed all the way over to the jet. "Yeah, that must be it, the charm."
The flight attendant was waiting for us inside the jet with another winning smile. She motioned for me to take a seat, and I selected one of the dozen black leather chairs that I knew to be as comfortable as they appeared.
The door slowly closed, and the jet began to taxi to the runway as Tommy sat opposite his daughter, across the aisle from me.
"You're Nathan Garrett," the flight attendant said, drawing my attention after I'd found myself looking out of the window.
"Umm, yeah, that's me," I said.
She bent down and hugged me tightly, her hair falling across my face and tickling my ear until she pulled away. "I just wanted to say thank you," she said.
"No, thank you," I managed.
"You don't know who I am, do you?"
"Sorry," I said.
"Nineteen forty-two, Berlin. You saved my life."
I studied the woman's face, which I suddenly realised hadn’t changed in over seventy-years as an image flashed in my head. A woman being held by the throat by a man. A knife was in his hand, a Nazi insignia on his arm. The memory came flooding back to me in a rush. "I remember Berlin," I whispered.
"You saved a lot of people that night. I've always wanted to thank you for it."
"You're welcome," I managed, and she walked off behind a curtain at the rear of the fuselage.
"Charm, my ass," Tommy said with a laugh. "I didn't know you were in Berlin during the war."
"I get around," I said and noticed Kasey scribbling something in her notebook.
She glanced up and caught the frown on my face. "I had a question about the second world war," she said, and went back to writing notes, causing Tommy to laugh.
Chapter 23
I am not a good flier. I don't panic or run around screaming, but I do get very tense and drink far too much alcohol. So it was probably for the best that the flight attendant who had kissed me earlier placed an eighteen-year-old bottle of Japanese goodness in front of me with a crystal tumbler. I knew it was crystal simply because no one who owns a jet as expensive as the one I was in supplies anything but the best in tableware.
So, as we banked left, and I caught a glimpse of the ground, several thousand feet below me, I knocked back my third glass and poured another.
"Flying is the safest form of travel, you know," Kasey said as she stared out the window.
"So people tell me," I replied. "It doesn't make me any less thrilled about having to be up here."
"Who are we going to see?" she asked with a smile on her face that I was certain was meant to melt my heart.
"Does that work on your parents?"
"Daddy," she said in a needy voice.
"Yes, it works," Tommy said. "I'm going to sleep, so you're on your own, Kase." He glanced at me. "Good luck."
Kasey made a humph-like noise, and crossed the aisle, taking a seat opposite me. She placed her notebook and pen on the table between us, opening it to the first page. "You said you would," she reminded me when she saw the trepidation on my face.
"Okay, hit me with your best shot."
"What attacked my mum?"
"A ghoul," I said.
"Is that what murdered those women?"
I shook my head. "No, ghouls are… primal. But they're also intelligent and maintain their human brain power. It's just that now, they're more interested in causing pain and suffering."
"Is my mum safe?"
"She's surrounded by her agents; she's safer than we are up here."
Kasey chuckled. "So, what's the difference between ghouls and zombies?"