Evil Star (12 page)

"How far is it to Fabian's house?" Richard asked.

The driver looked up nervously, meeting Richard's eyes in the Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star mirror. "We don't go to the house," he said.

"Why not?"

"We go to the Hotel Europa in Miraflores. Is not far. Mr. Fabian meets you there."

Richard glanced at Matt. He was puzzled by the change of plan.

Nobody had said anything about a hotel.

They stopped at a traffic light, and here the noise was worse than ever. All around them, drivers were leaning on their horns, furious at being kept waiting. There was the crunch of buckled metal, a van colliding with the back of a car. The shrill scream of a whistle as a policeman in a dark green uniform tried to take control. The jangle of a boom box on the back of a motorbike. A figure stepped in front of the car. It was a boy, about his own age, dressed in filthy jeans and a T-shirt, juggling with three balls. He seemed to be enjoying himself, sending the balls spinning in a circle over his head. He performed for a few seconds, then bowed and held out a cupped hand, begging for money. The driver shook his head and at once the boy was transformed, his face contorted with anger. He swore briefly and spat at the window. The lights changed and they moved off again. Matt was relieved. He had never been anywhere like this before. What had he gotten himself into?

Now they were driving down a quieter, more residen-tial street, moving away from the sea. Matt got the feeling they were getting close to the hotel.

"What time is it?" he asked Richard.

"I don't know." Richard turned his wrist to look at his watch. Matt realized he had just nodded off. Both of them were half asleep, half awake, caught somewhere between the two. "My watch is still on Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star English time. But right now it's ..."

He never finished the sentence.

The car stopped abrupdy. Both Matt and Richard were thrown forward. The driver rapped out something guttural in Spanish. Matt saw what had happened. A blue van had driven out of a side street at full speed, blocking the way ahead. At first, he thought it was just an accident, but then he saw the doors of the van open. Four men piled out and began to run toward them — and at that moment he knew there was nothing accidental about it. They had driven into some sort of trap. These people had been waiting for them.

Alberto knew it, too. With a sense of unreality, Matt saw the driver reach into the glove compartment and bring out a gun. Fabian must have been afraid of this from the start. He must have suspected that they might be attacked on the way into the city. Maybe that was why he had changed their destination. And why else would he have ensured that his driver was armed?

He wasn't the only one. Two of the men coming at them from the van were carrying handguns. Everything was happening so quickly that Matt only had time to glimpse their faces — dark, of course, with long black hair. They were wearing jeans and open-neck shirts, the sleeves rolled up. Then somebody fired a shot, and the front windscreen became a frosted maze of cracks with a deadly eye at the center. Alberto cried out. He had been hit in the shoulder. His blood splattered against the back of his seat. But now he brought his own gun round and fired three times. The front window collapsed, the glass cascading down. The men from the van hesitated, then took cover.

And that was when Richard acted. Grabbing hold of Matt with one hand, he threw open the door with the other. He was in the right-Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star hand side, the side farther away from the van.

"Move!" he shouted.

"No, senor!" Alberto twisted round in the front.

Richard ignored him. Dragging Matt, he slid out of the car and into the street. Matt didn't resist. His head was spinning. He didn't know what was happening. But he agreed with Richard. He would feel safer in the open air.

Two more shots. Out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw Alberto heave himself clumsily out of the car and run off into the evening gloom, one hand clutching his wounded shoulder. He was abandoning them! Matt and Richard were in the street now. There were houses on either side, but nobody had come out to see what was happening. Nobody wanted to help.

"Run!" Richard shouted. "Just keep moving! Don't stop for anything!"

Matt didn't need to be told twice. He stumbled away from the car and began to run back up the street, heading in the direction from which they'd come. It was dark now. Streetlamps threw an ugly artificial light over them, turn-ing everything yellow. And it had become even hotter. Matt could feel the sweat trickling underneath his clothes.

And the men were coming after them. Who were they? Who had sent them? Matt didn't dare look round, but he could hear their shoes hitting the pavement, knew they were getting closer.

Richard cried out. /

Matt stopped and turned. Two of the men had grabbed hold of the journalist. Matt saw one of them quite clearly. A round, almost Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star feminine face. Unshaven. A small scar next to one eye. He was holding Richard with one arm around his neck. The other two men were coming up fast behind.

Richard was struggling and somehow, for just a brief moment, he managed to break free. "Keep going, Matt!" he shouted. "Move!"

He lashed out with a foot, kicking one of the men in the stomach.

The man groaned and collapsed. But the other man, the one with the scar, had grabbed hold of Richard again. As Matt watched, the others reached them, making it three against one. There was no way to save Richard. Matt twisted round and began to run. He heard one of the attackers calling out to him. Although he couldn't be certain, he thought he heard them using his name. His real name. So they knew who he was! The trap must have been set up long before they arrived.

Matt turned a corner and sprinted down an alleyway. At the end, he turned again, came to a main road and crossed it, weaving recklessly between the traffic. Someone yelled at him. A bus shot past, punching at him with a fist of warm air. He came to a patch of wasteland and ran across it. A dog, dirty and half starved, barked at him. A few local women watched him with idle curiosity.

At last he stopped, his breath rasping in his throat. He was covered in sweat. His shirt seemed to have glued itself to him. The jet lag still hadn't left him. He could feel it, sitting on his shoulder, trying to hammer him into the ground. But he was alone. He looked back across the waste-land, with the main road and the traffic in the distance. Nobody was coming after him. He had escaped.

It was only then that the enormity of his situation struck him. He was in a strange country, with no money and no luggage. The driver who had been sent to collect him had run off, saving his own skin, Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star and his only friend had been kidnapped by an unknown enemy. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know how to get to where he was sup-posed to be. It was night. And he was on his own.

So what did he do now?

Chapter 8 Hotel Europa

Matt hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep until he began to wake up again. He groaned quietly and curled up, not wanting to return to full consciousness. He wasn't ready to face reality quite yet. He was utterly drained. His entire body felt as if it had been hollowed out.

Maybe it was the jet lag. More likely it was the shock of what had hap-pened. His arms and shoulders were aching and his mouth was dry. What had woken him up? Oh, yes — a hand in his jacket pocket. Just to add to his troubles, he was being robbed.

Matt opened his eyes and saw a dark-haired boy leaning over him.

At the same time, the boy's own eyes widened in alarm. Matt cried out and pushed the boy away. The boy had been crouching on his heels. He lost his balance and fell over backward. Matt sprang to his feet.

"Get off me!" he shouted. "Who are you? Leave me alone!"

The boy said nothing. Of course, it was unlikely that he spoke a word of English. Matt looked down at him and, even after everything that had happened, with all the confusion in his mind, he thought he knew him. It seemed to Matt that they had met long ago, but then he remembered. In the car, on the way from the airport. The boy who had been juggling at the traffic lights and who had sworn at Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star them.

"No hacia cualquier cosa. Era el intentar justo ayudarte,
" the boy said.

Matt got the general sense of the words, the protesta-tion of innocence, but he didn't believe the boy. It was there in his eyes —

deep brown and suspicious — and in the way he held himself like a cornered animal, as if he were going to lash out at any moment. The boy was all bone. If Matt grabbed hold of his arm, he was fairly sure his thumbs and fingers would meet. He was wearing a yellow T-shirt that advertised a drink called Inca Cola, but the words had faded and the fabric had worn away into holes. His jeans were disgusting, tied with a piece of rope around the waist. He was wearing sandals made out of black rub-ber. Otherwise, his feet were bare.

The boy got to his feet and brushed himself down, as if the action could remove months of accumulated dirt. Then he looked balefully at Matt.

"No he tornado cualquier cosa.
" He showed his empty hands to make the point. He hadn't taken anything.

Matt felt in his pockets. He'd had ten pounds when he came from England, and fortunately he had kept it in his trousers. It was still there. His passport was still in his jacket. That was something, anyway. The boy was looking at him with injured pride, as if to say

How can you possibly mistrust me?
But Matt was sure that if he'd slept for another thirty seconds, he would have woken up with nothing.

He looked around him. He had been sitting, slumped against a low, brick wall underneath a tattered poster advertising mobile phones.

The wasteland that he had crossed was in front of him with a row of Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star partly built houses on the other side. All the buildings looked as if they had been cut in half with a knife. Wires and metal poles sprouted out where the roofs should have been. It was still dark, the area lit by ugly arc lamps curving high above on concrete posts. But the first gray fingers of the morning light were already creeping through the sky. Matt glanced at his watch. It wasn't there. The boy shuffled uneasily.

"I don't suppose you've got the time?" he asked.

The boy held out his hand. Matt's watch was on his wrist.

It was five o'clock in the morning.

Matt didn't even try to take the watch back. He was a little surprised that the boy hadn't run off and abandoned him. Perhaps he was curious. A foreign tourist in the mid-dle of the city. And one who was about own age. Perhaps he could see a chance to make more money. Well, it was pos-sible that he might be useful — even if he was a thief. After all, he was Peruvian. He knew the city.

It was time to think.

Matt had to get back in contact with the Nexus . . . and in particular with Fabian, who must be searching for him even now. The trouble was, nobody had counted on Rich-ard and Matt being separated.

Richard had money and credit cards. He had phone numbers to reach Fabian day or night. But he hadn't shared them with Matt.

Apart from the ten pounds, Matt had nothing. Perhaps if he could work out how to use directory inquiries he might be able to get a number for Susan Ashwood back home in Manchester. But even that seemed complicated and somehow unlikely. How about the police? That was the obvious choice, although Matt doubted that the Peruvian boy would be too keen to show him the way to the nearest Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star station. Perhaps he could find his way to Barranco, the sub-urb where Fabian lived. It couldn't be too far from here.

Then Matt remembered what the driver, Alberto, had said: Fabian was waiting for them at a hotel. What was its name? It took Matt a few moments to get his brain back into gear. The Hotel Europa. That was it. The Hotel Europa in Miraflores.

The boy was still waiting for him to say something. Matt tapped himself on the chest. "Matt," he said. There was no point in hiding behind a false name just now.

The boy nodded. "Pedro."

So that was what he was called. And the strange thing was, Matt knew it already. He had been expecting it. Could he have heard it when he was asleep?

"Do you know the Hotel Europa in Miraflores?" he asked.

Pedro looked blank.

Matt tried again, more slowly. "Hotel Europa." He pointed to himself. "I go."

"Hotel Europa?" This time Pedro got it.
"Si. . ."

"Can you show me the way?" Matt gestured down the street. "Do you understand?"

Pedro understood. But he wasn't agreeing to anything. Matt saw the doubt in his eyes. Why should he help this foreign boy?

Matt took out the ten pounds. "If you take me there, I'll give you this. It's a lot of money."

Pedro's eyes lasered in on the banknote. It was what he had been looking for in the first place. He nodded a sec-ond time. "Hotel Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star Europa," he repeated.

"Let's go."

The two of them set off.

• • •

It took them an hour to reach the hotel, a modern building twelve stories high, with a drive sweeping round to the front door, where a uniformed doorman was already standing, waiting to receive early-morning guests. Miraflores was one of the most exclusive parts of Lima, stretching out contentedly in the morning sun. The streets were quiet and ran between well-manicured lawns deco-rated with palm trees and fountains. There was an expensive-looking arcade boasting the sort of shops and restaurants that wouldn't have been out of place in London. The whole suburb was perched on the end of a miniature cliff. Far below, the sea formed a giant crescent, stretching into the distance with the rest of the city barely visible, a mile away.

Hotel Europa. Matt felt a surge of relief as he saw the name written in large white letters above the entrance lobby. And there was something else. He hadn't noticed them at first, but there were two police cars parked outside. He had no doubt at all that they were there because of him. Fabian would have been waiting for him and Richard to arrive. When they hadn't, he must have raised the alarm.