The man was dressed in the rags of a once fine suit. Scars branded the prisoner’s face like lightning bolts, and one leg appeared to be missing. It was difficult to tell. Artemis’s breath was jumpy now, like a marathon runner’s.
There was a sign around the man’s neck. Cardboard and twine. On the sign was scrawled in thick black letters: Zdravstvutye syn. The camera zoomed in on the message for several seconds, then went blank.
“Is that all?”
Butler nodded.“Just the man, and the sign. That’s it.”
“Zdravstvutye syn,” muttered Artemis, his accent flawless. Since his father’s disappearance, he had been teaching himself the language.
“Should I translate for you?” asked Butler, also a Russian speaker. His accent, however, was not quite so sophisticated.
He had picked it up during a five-year stint with an espionage unit in the late eighties.
“No, I know what it means,” replied his young employer. “Zdravstvutye syn: Hello, son.”
Butler pulled the Bentley onto the divided highway. No one spoke for several minutes. Eventually Butler had to ask.
“Do you think it’s him, Artemis? Could that man be your father?”
Artemis rewound the MPG, freezing it on the mysterious man’s face. He touched the display, sending rainbow distortions across the screen.
“I think so, Butler. But the picture quality is too poor. I can’t be certain.”
Butler understood the emotions battering his young charge. He, too, had lost someone aboard the Fowl Star. His uncle, the major, had been assigned to Artemis’s father on that fateful trip. Unfortunately, the major’s body had turned up in the Tchersky morgue.
Artemis regained his composure. “I must pursue this, Butler.”
“You know what’s coming next, of course?”
“Yes. A ransom demand. This is merely the teaser, to get my attention. I need to cash in some of the People’s gold. Contact Lars in Zurich, immediately.”
Butler accelerated into the fast lane.
“Master Artemis, I have had some experience in these matters.”
Artemis did not interrupt. Butler’s career before his current charge’s birth had been varied, to say the least.
“The pattern with kidnappers is to eliminate all witnesses. Then they will generally try to eliminate each other, to avoid splitting the ransom.”
“Your point being?”
“My point being that paying a ransom in no way guarantees your father’s safety. If indeed that man is your father. It is quite possible that the kidnappers will take your money and then kill all of us.”
Artemis studied the camera screen. “You’re right, of course. I will have to devise a plan.”
Butler swallowed. He remembered the last plan. It had almost gotten them all killed, and could have plunged the planet into an interspecies war. Butler was a man who didn’t scare easily, but the spark in Artemis Fowl’s eyes was enough to send a shiver crackling down his spine.
Chute Terminal E1, Tara, Ireland
Captain Holly Short had decided to work a double shift and proceed directly to the surface. She paused only for a nutri-bar and an energy shake before hopping on the first shuttle to the terminal at Tara.
One of Tara’s officials was not making her journey any easier. The head of security was annoyed that Captain Short had not only put all chute traffic on hold to take a priority pod from E1, but then proceeded to commandeer an entire shuttle for the return journey.
“Why don’t you check your system again?” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m sure the authorization from Police Plaza has arrived by now.”
The truculent gnome consulted his handheld computer. “No, ma’am. I ain’t got nuthin’.”
“Look, Mister . . .”
“Commandant Terryl.”
“Commandant Terryl. I’m on an important mission here. National security. I need you to keep the arrivals hall completely clear for the next couple of hours.”
Terryl made a great show of almost collapsing. “The next coupla hours! Are you crazy, girly? I got three shuttles comin’ in from Atlantis. What’m I s’posed to tell ’em? Tour’s off ’cause of some LEP secret shenanigans? This is high season. I can’t just shut things down. No way, no how.”
Holly shrugged. “Fine. You just let all your tourists catch sight of the two humans I’m bringing down here. There’ll be a riot. I guarantee it.”
“Two humans?” said the head of security. “Inside the terminal? Are you nuts?”
Holly was running out of patience, and time.
“Do you see this?” she demanded, pointing to the insignia on her helmet. “I’m LEP. A captain. No rent-a-cop gnome is going to stand in the way of my orders.”
Terryl drew himself up to his full height, which was a little more than two feet.
“Yeah, I heard of you. The crazy girly captain. Caused quite a stir up here last year, didn’t you. My tax ingots gonna be payin’ for that little screw-up for quite some time.”
“Just ask Central, you bureaucratic idiot.”
“Call me what you want, Missy. We have our rules here, and without confirmation from below, ain’t nothing I can do to change ’em. ’Specially not fer some gun-totin’ girly with an attitude problem.”
“Well, get on the blower to Police Plaza then!”
Terryl sniffed. “The magma flares have just started actin’ up. It’s hard to get a line. Maybe I’ll try again after my rounds. Just you take yourself a seat in the departure lounge.”
Holly’s hand strayed toward her buzz baton.
“You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”
“What?” croaked the gnome.
“You’re obstructing an LEP operation.”
“I ain’t obstructin’ nuthin’—”
“And as such, it is in my power to remove said obstruction using any force that I deem necessary.”
“Don’t you threaten me, Missy.”
Holly drew the baton, twirling it expertly. “I’m not threatening you. I’m just informing you of police procedure. If you continue to obstruct me, I remove the obstruction, in this case you, and proceed to the next in command.”
Terryl was unconvinced. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Holly grinned. “I’m the crazy girly captain. Remember?”
The gnome considered it. It was unlikely the officer would buzz him, but then again, with female elves, who knew?
“Okay,” he said, printing off a sheet on the computer. “This is a twenty-four-hour visa. But if you’re not back here in that time, I’ll have you taken into custody on your return. Then I’ll be the one making the threats.”
Holly snatched the sheet. “Whatever. Now, remember make sure the arrival dock is clear when I get back.”
Ireland, en route from Saint Bartleby’s to Fowl Manor
Artemis was bouncing ideas off Butler, a technique he often used when trying to come up with a plan. After all, if anybody was an expert on covert operations, it was his bodyguard.
“We can’t trace the MPG?”
“No, Artemis. I tried. They put a decay virus in with the e-mail, I only barely managed to get the film on disk before the original disintegrated.”
“What about the MPG itself? Could we get a geographical fix from the stars?”
Butler smiled. Young Master Artemis was starting to think like a soldier.