Gates of Rome

CHAPTER 11

2001, New York

‘So, Maddy, let me just check I got this wording correct,’ said the guy on the other end of the line. He was just the kind of help-desk type that bugged her: overfamiliar. Way too friendly. It’s not like they were dating or anything, so why’d he have to keep using her name like they’d known each other since kindergarten?

‘ A soul lost in time… that right, Maddy?’

She sighed. ‘Yes… so far.’

‘ Need to know what you know about Pandora. Aware it is “the end”. Have learned the “family” is just us and you. And we have been used before. Insist on further information. Will not attend any more “parties” until we hear back. ’ She heard the help-desk guy chuckle. ‘Whoa… Maddy, what are you? Some kinda super-secret agent or something?’

‘Yeah… that’s right.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Some kinda super-secret agent. Now you going to print that AD for me, or are you just going to carry on making fun of me?’

‘Hey, look, I’m sorry… I’ll… uh, I’ll make sure it gets in tomorrow’s edition.’

‘Thanks. It’s important you do.’

‘So that’s, let me see…’ She heard him counting under his breath. ‘Thirty-four dollars for a week in the classified section of the Brooklyn Daily — ’

‘No. I want it in just for tomorrow. Just Tuesday.’

‘Doesn’t cost you a cent more to be in the whole week, you know, Maddy.’

‘Just tomorrow’s edition, please. That’s all.’

‘OK… if that’s what you want. Gonna need your card details now, Maddy…’

She ran through them as quickly as she could, keen to get the call and the gratuitous and obligatory you-have-a-nice-day over and done with. Finally done, she put the mobile phone down on the desk and looked at the others. ‘So, there we go.’

Liam grinned a little anxiously. ‘Do you think we’ll tick this Waldstein fella off?’

She cocked her head casually. ‘I’m sort of past caring, Liam. Somebody owes us an explanation. We’ve been through Hell and back several times over. We’ve been doing his dirty work pretty much blind. I’m not lifting another finger until we get some information.’

Sal nodded at that. ‘Yeah. It’s not fair. They should trust us now.’

‘It’s he… not they,’ corrected Maddy.

Sal shrugged that away. ‘Whatever. Whoever. We’re owed an explanation.’

Maddy looked round at the archway. ‘I want to know who precisely set this place up. It couldn’t have just been Waldstein, though. And how long ago? How many teams have been here before us?’ She looked at the others. At Sal. ‘And yeah, maybe you’re right to ask, Sal. Were they really us?’

‘What if someone else gets the message?’ said Sal. Maddy hadn’t thought about that. ‘I mean it’ll be out there in a newspaper, right? What if someone else knows to look at that ad?’

‘Then we just made a big mistake.’ Maddy looked at Bob warily. ‘What about you, Bob? Any thoughts you want to share on this?’

‘It is a logical move to seek to acquire more information, Maddy.’

‘You don’t have any secret lines of code, do you? Hmm? Any deeply buried priority protocols that would make you object to us questioning our…’ She was going to say ‘HQ’, but she wondered if this agency even had something like that. ‘… questioning our boss?’

‘Negative, Maddy. My highest priority is preserving history and protecting you.’

‘You’re not going to suddenly rip our heads off or anything?’

His horse-lips protruded into something close to a sulky pout. ‘I would not hurt any of you.’

Liam punched his arm lightly. ‘Don’t worry, coconut-head, we all love you. So, Maddy?’ He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms defiantly. ‘Is this what I think it is, then?’

‘What’s that?’

‘A workers’ strike.’

She nodded, her mouth set with a determined smile. ‘Too right it is.’ She slurped some of her Dr Pepper from the can. ‘If they… he… Waldstein… whoever wants us to save history again, then we better start getting some answers.’

Liam nodded, raising his coffee cup. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

‘Me too,’ said Sal, lifting a glass of fruit juice. She presented it across the table and the other two clinked mug and soda can with her.

Bob nodded thoughtfully. ‘Affirmative.’ He looked around. ‘I have nothing to drink… is that required?’