Hamish X Goes to Providence Rhode Island (21 page)

The access panel burst open. An agent poked his head up, pulling himself onto the roof of the car. In his hand he held a stun pistol. He saw Parveen immediately. Training
the pistol at the boy, the agent shouted, “Stay right where you are!”

“Certainly,” Parveen said. “But will you?” He pointed at the straining cable. The agent's head jerked back in surprise as the cable broke and the car dropped out of sight down the shaft.

Parveen stuck his head out of the ventilation shaft and looked down at the receding car. “I hope they have a safety braking system.”

An agent poked his head out the open doors of the floor below and looked up. He raised his rifle and fired. Parveen ducked back into the shaft just in time.

“He's in the ventilation shaft.”

Parveen turned and set off down the shaft. The hunt was on.

Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet

“We are counting on you to capture this interloper, Mr. Crisp,” Mr. Sweet said to the new agent who had once been Aidan, leader of the Royal Swiss Guards, and who now stood clothed in a fresh grey coat and fedora.

“Indeed, if the business with Hamish X weren't so important to our ultimate goal, we would stay and capture him ourselves,” Mr. Sweet added. “Alas, that task must fall to you. Do not fail.”

“I will not,” Mr. Crisp answered, ducking his head like a pigeon. “You can count on me.”

“Fine,” Mr. Sweet nodded. He turned to Mr. Candy and said, “Shall we board the Space Plane?”

“Indeed, Mr. Candy. The sooner away, the sooner we return.”

“And the sooner we open the gate.”

Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet abruptly turned on their heels and marched off down the catwalk past the elevator, which was under repair. They walked through the metal sliding doors that led to the transport bay. The door slid shut behind them.

“Mother?”

“Yes, Mr. Crisp?” The voice seemed to come from everywhere.

“Find the intruder. Now.”

“Working.”

Chapter 21

HAMISH X

El Arak loomed in the moonlight, its stone walls sheer and forbidding. The fortress stood on a steep cliff jutting out of the surrounding desert like a ship ploughing through a frozen sea. Hamish X had seen impregnable strongholds before in his many adventures, but of all the impregnable fortresses he'd experienced, El Arak seemed slightly more impregnable than most.
⁷⁴

The fortress was carved out of the cliff, the only entrance being the thick front gate of oak bound in bands of iron. Atop the cliff was a tower rising a further thirty metres above the desert. On the top of the walls, men in brown desert battle fatigues patrolled. Hamish X had counted twenty so far, but there were probably more inside the fortress itself.

“You're telling me we have to get in there?” Thomas asked, incredulous. He, Maggie, Hamish X, and Harik lay on their bellies at the crest of a dune looking at the imposing stronghold.

“You don't have to get in anywhere,” Hamish X said. “You two are going to stay right here until this is over.”

“Sorry, pal.” Maggie shook her head. “We aren't sitting this one out. We're in for the long haul.”

“No.” Hamish X stood up, dusting sand from his clothing. “It's too dangerous. You have a family to go home to. This isn't your fight. I have to go in there and find the Professor. He's the only one who can tell me who and what I am. Harik and his people are here because this is their land.”

“He is right,” said Harik. “You must stay out of danger. It would be a tragedy for your parents if you were lost here after winning your freedom from Leadbuttocks.”

“Ironbuttocks!” Maggie corrected. “And it's not fair.”

“You are staying here. That's final.” Hamish X nodded to the two Bedouins who would be staying to guard Maggie and Thomas. “Take good care of them.”

“This isn't fair,” Maggie insisted, as two Bedouin warriors firmly led her and her brother away.

Hamish X trotted down the back of the dune with Harik to join the Bedouin warriors sitting astride their camels, waiting for the attack order. The animals shifted their bulk and grunted, blowing clouds of steam into the cool night air. Harik hauled himself up into the saddle, folding his legs under him and taking up the reins. He looked down at Hamish X. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Hamish X gave a curt nod. “Are you?”

“Of course.” Harik laughed, his teeth flashing white in the darkness. “Give us twenty minutes to get into position. We will signal you.”

“All right.” Hamish X smiled. “Good luck, Harik.”

“Go with God!” Harik returned. With a snap of the reins, he turned his camel away and the troop of riders set off. Hamish X watched them go. The Bedouin had been
good to Hamish X and his companions. Now he only hoped the plan would work and the desert tribesmen would be reunited with their families.

So,
Hamish X thought.
One more battle and perhaps then I will know who and what and why I am.
He walked easily to the top of the dune and sat down. Looking up into the sky, he was amazed once again by the intensity of the stars. Here, in the clear night sky of the desert, far from the lights of any city and the pollution of factories, the stars shone so brightly. There were far more stars visible than he had ever thought possible. A crescent moon hung low over the horizon. Dawn was still a few hours away. They had planned their assault to take place during the wee hours of the night when the mercenaries guarding El Arak would be least wary.

“Let's hope we catch them by surprise,” Hamish X said aloud. He almost jumped out of his skin when a voice close to his ear answered him.

“I believe you will, Hamish X.”

Hamish X spun and found a George raccoon sitting in the sand beside him. The raccoon was a little the worse for wear. Its fur was falling out, leaving large bald patches on its pelt. One of its ears was gone, and a hole in its shoulder showed the glint of its inner mechanical workings. The raccoon sat on its haunches and stared at Hamish X with glossy black eyes.

“George?” Hamish X was astonished. “What in the world are you doing here?”

“I am searching for you,” George replied. “There is much for me to tell you, Hamish X. You have led me a merry chase.”

“I don't get it. Why are you looking for me? I thought the King wanted me to find the Professor.”

“He did, of course, and I'm sure he would still wish that to be the case.” The raccoon hung its ragged head. “Alas, the King of Switzerland is dead.”

The news struck Hamish X like a blow. He was speechless for a full minute. “Dead? How can that be? Was there an accident?”

“No accident,” George said. “There was an attack. Somehow, the ODA discovered the location of the Hollow Mountain. They attacked in overwhelming numbers. Many were taken prisoner, including Lieutenant Aidan and Parveen. Mimi, Mr. Kipling, and Mrs. Francis among others escaped in the emergency pods. But the King . . . He fell while covering their retreat. I was there when he died . . . At least one of me was there. Now I am the only one of my kind left.”

Hamish X didn't know what to say. Parveen and Aidan captured? King Liam dead? It was too much to absorb all at once. Not knowing what else to do, he reached out and wrapped his arms around the George raccoon, buried his head in the ragged fur of its coat, and cried.

The George raccoon didn't know what to make of such emotional behaviour. The creature stood patiently still until Hamish X's sobs finally subsided. At last, Hamish X sat back and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket.

“How did you find me?”

“Ah,” the George raccoon sighed. “The King removed the ODA's tracking device, but he added one of his own. I hope you aren't offended, but he wanted to make sure he could find you in an emergency . . . like the one that exists now.”

“I see,” Hamish X said. “What should I do?”

“I cannot say. You are a free person. You can do as you wish. The King sent me to tell you what has happened. What you do now is your decision.”

Hamish X stared through the night at El Arak looming in the darkness. His answers lay there, but his friends needed him. What to do?

What decided it was a flash of light near the front gates of the fortress. Harik had sent his signal. The tribesmen were waiting for him to get the gates open. Without him, they were trapped and vulnerable.

Hamish X stood. “I must get into El Arak. I need to find the Professor. Without knowing who and what I truly am, I can't hope to successfully challenge the Grey Agents and end the ODA once and for all.”

“Sound logic, Hamish X,” George said. “Shall I wait for you here?”

“Uh-uh.” Hamish X shook his head. “You're coming with me.”

“Oh my,” was all the George raccoon could say in response.

“
SARGE
?”

“What now, Ulrich?”

“What's that, sir?”

“What's what?”

“It's a light or something. About a kilometre due east.” Sergeant Titus, the mercenary in charge of the night watch, raised his field glasses and trained them on the blue flare that was quickly approaching the gate from the west. It moved with incredible speed. A trail of disturbed dust rose behind it.

“Are we expecting a convoy?” the Sergeant asked. “Nope.”

“That's nope, SIR!”

“Nope, SIR!”

“Hmm.” Sergeant Titus adjusted the dial on his field glasses, and finally the image came into focus. A boy with
wild hair and a ferocious grin was running impossibly fast. His large boots flared like blue stars trailing fire and under his arm he carried a ragged-looking raccoon. The boy was on a direct route for the gate.

“Oh no,” Sergeant Titus groaned. “It's him! It's Hamish X! Sound the alarm!”

HAMISH X LAUGHED
as the power surged through him. The sand sped by and he increased his speed. A loud, roaring boom rumbled across the desert as he broke the sound barrier. The gates swelled in his vision. The George raccoon covered its eyes with its tiny paws as Hamish X launched himself over the final ten metres. He struck the gates like a missile. Oak, laboriously barged down the Nile and dragged across the sands of the Sahara, carefully shaped and hung as a gate, was shattered now into a cloud of splinters by the pent-up fury of Hamish X's boots.

Harik and his fellow tribesmen leapt to their feet, shaking off the sand that they had scooped over themselves as camouflage. They had crept on their bellies until they were right against the wall of the fortress and waited for Hamish X to knock down the gate. Now they brandished their rifles and flooded into the fortress. The mercenaries inside were quickly overwhelmed. They threw down their weapons and put their hands in the air when faced with the sudden fury of the attack. Harik looked around, but Hamish X was nowhere to be found. In his wake was a trail of destruction. Mercenaries lay groaning behind shattered barricades and under the wreckage of their own vehicles. The Bedouins moved through the open square subduing and binding their one-time foes. Harik and a select group of men headed off to find Hamish X.

Hamish X had left the front gate far behind. He was moving upward, climbing a zigzagging staircase that was cut into the interior of the cliff. His goal was the tower above. He hadn't stopped moving since he had burst through the front gate. Hamish X's momentum carried him forward through the gate and sent him careening down the central street of El Arak. He flew by the darkened windows and abandoned houses of the main street and sailed on into a gaping stone opening. Two guards tried to intercept but he barrelled through them, sending them flying into the stone walls on either side. Entering the opening, he discovered the stairs that Harik had assured him would lead into the tower. There, Harik believed, he would find the Professor.

Hamish X ran up the steps past doors where confused faces peered out at him. An occasional mercenary, roused from his sleep by the attack, staggered out into Hamish X's path only to be kicked aside or rolled over by his headlong dash. The George raccoon never removed its paws from its eyes, content to let Hamish X negotiate his own path without comment.

“I didn't think computers could be scared, George,” Hamish X teased, kicking a mercenary aside as he ran.

“I am not afraid,” George answered mildly. “I am merely covering my visual sensors to avoid an overload of stimuli. And … I am an artificial intelligence,
not
a computer.”

Hamish X laughed and began to take the steps two at a time.

He reached the top of the stairs and emerged onto a platform about three metres wide that ran along the top of the wall. He skidded to a halt. The tower rose ahead of him, a little ways along the wall, but unfortunately a line
of mercenaries and their Sergeant were lined up in his path, rifles trained on him.

“Halt!” the Sergeant bellowed. “Halt or we will open fire!”

Hamish X paused. He looked up at the tower and then to the line of soldiers. Their faces were damp with sweat. There was fear in their eyes.

“Are you really willing to fight and die for this?” Hamish X asked. “Does this fortress mean anything to any of you?”

“We've been paid to do a job and paid well,” the Sergeant said evenly. “We will do that job. Men, prepare to fire.”

“You can't win. The gate is broken. The lower levels are taken. You are all that remain. Surrender now and you will be allowed to leave.”

The Sergeant looked Hamish X in the eyes. “We were paid to do a job. If we surrender, we lose face. We will be dishonoured.”

“There is no honour in dying for a dishonourable cause,” Hamish X said, stepping closer. The rifle barrels were wavering.

“He does have a point, Sarge,” one of the soldiers opined.

“Quiet, Ulrich.”

“Just sayin'.”

Hamish X pressed his advantage. “The people who hired you are evil and know no honour. You don't owe them any loyalty. If you lay down your arms, I promise you will not be harmed.”