Artemis’s impact was cushioned by Butler and the mattress. Without them he would certainly have been killed. As it was, the bodyguard’s muscle-bound frame was dense enough to break two of his ribs. Artemis bounced a full metre into the air before coming to rest on the unconscious bodyguard’s back, facing the sky.
Each breath was short and painful, and two nubs of bone rose like knuckles from his chest. Sixth and seventh ribs, he guessed.
Overhead, a block of iridescent blue light flashed from his hotel window. It lit the sky for a split second, its belly busy with even brighter blue flares that wriggled like hooked worms. No one would pay much attention; the light could easily have come from an oversized camera flash. But Artemis knew better.
Bio-bomb, he thought. Now how do I know that?
Butler must be unconscious or else he would be moving, so it was up to Artemis to foil their attacker’s next murderous attempt. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his chest was ferocious and enough to knock him out for a second. When he awoke, his entire body was slick with sweat. Artemis saw that it was too late to escape; his assassin was already here, crouched, catlike, on the shed wall.
The killer was a strange individual, no bigger than a child but with adult proportions. She was female, with pretty, sharp features, cropped auburn hair and huge hazel eyes, but that didn’t mean any mercy would be forthcoming. Butler had once told him that eight of the top ten paid hitters in the world were women. This one wore a strange jumpsuit that shifted colours to suit the background, and those large eyes were red from crying.
Her ears are pointed, thought Artemis. Either I’m in shock, or she’s not human.
Then he made the mistake of moving again, and one of his broken ribs actually punched through the skin. A red stain blossomed on his shirt and Artemis gave up the fight to stay conscious.
It had taken Holly almost ninety minutes to reach Germany. On a normal mission it would have taken at least twice that long, but Holly had decided to break a few LEP regulations. Why not? she reasoned. It wasn’t as if she could get into any more trouble.
The LEP already thought she had killed the commander, and her communications were blocked so she could not explain what had really happened. No doubt she was classified as rogue and a Retrieval squad was already on her tail. Not to mention the fact that Opal Koboi was probably keeping electronic tabs on her. So there was no time to lose.
Ever since the goblin gangs had been caught smuggling human contraband through disused chutes, sentries had been posted in each surface shuttle port. Paris was guarded by a sleepy gnome who was only five years from retirement. He was awakened from his afternoon nap by an urgent communique from Police Plaza. There was a rogue Recon jock on the way up. Detain for questioning. Proceed with caution.
Nobody really expected that the gnome would have any success. Holly Short was in peak physical condition and had once lived through a tussle with a troll. The gnome sentry couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in shape, and he had to lie down if he got a hangnail. Nevertheless the sentry guarded the shuttle bay gamely until Holly blew past him on her way to the surface.
Once in the air, she peeled back a Velcro patch on her forearm and ran a search on her computer. The computer found the Kronski Hotel and flashed up three route options. Holly chose the shortest one, even though it meant passing over several major human population centres. More LEP regulations smashed to bits. At this point she really didn’t care. Her own career was beyond salvaging, but that didn’t matter. Holly had never been a career elf anyway. The only reason she hadn’t already been booted out of the LEP was the commander. He had seen her potential, and now he was gone.
The earth flashed by below. European smells drifted through her helmet filters.
The sea, baked earth, vines and the tang of pure snow. Generally this was what Holly lived for, but not today. Today she felt none of the usual above-ground euphoria. She simply felt alone. The commander had been the closest thing to family she had left. Now he was gone too. Perhaps because she had missed the sweet spot. Had she effectively killed Julius herself? It was too awful to think about, and too awful to forget.
Holly opened her visor to clear the tears. Artemis Fowl must be saved. As much for the commander as for himself. Holly closed her visor, kicked up her legs and opened the throttle to maximum. Time to see what these new wings of Foaly’s could do.
In a little more than an hour Holly sped into Munich’s airspace. She dropped to thirty metres, activating her helmet’s radar. It would be a shame to make it this far, only to be pasted by an incoming aircraft. The Kronski showed up as a red dot in her visor.
Foaly could have sent a live satellite feed, or at least the most recent video footage, but she had no way to contact the centaur — and even if she did, the Council would order her back to Police Plaza immediately.
Holly zeroed in on the red dot in her visor. That was where the bio-bomb would be headed, so she had to go there too. She dropped lower until the Kronski’s roof was just under her toes, then touched down on the rooftop. She was on her own now. This was as far as the on-board tracker could take her. She would have to locate Artemis’s room on her own.
Holly chewed her lip for a moment, then typed a command into the keypad on her wrist. She could have used voice command, but the software was touchy and she did not have time for computer error. In seconds, her on-board computer had hacked into the hotel computer and was displaying a guest list and schematic. Artemis was in room 304. Third storey on the south wing of the hotel.
Holly sprinted across the roof, activating her wings as she ran. She was seconds away from saving Artemis. Having a mythological creature drag him from his hotel room might be a bit of a shock, but not as much of a shock as being vaporized by a bio-bomb.
She stopped dead. A guided missile was arcing in from the horizon, towards the hotel. It was of fairy manufacture, no doubt about that, but new. Slicker and faster, with bigger tail rockets than she’d ever seen on a missile. Opal Koboi had obviously been making upgrades.
Holly spun on her heels, racing for the other side of the hotel. In her heart she knew she was too late, and the realization hit her that Opal had set her up again. There never was any hope of rescuing Artemis, just as there had never been any chance of rescuing the commander.
Before her wings even had a chance to kick in, there was a bright blue flash from beyond the lip of the roof, and a slight shudder underfoot as the bio-bomb detonated. It was the perfect weapon. There was no structural damage, and the bomb casing would consume itself, leaving no evidence that it had ever been there.
Holly dropped to her knees in frustration, peeling off her helmet to gulp in breaths of fresh air. The Munich air was laced with toxins, but it still tasted better than the below-ground filtered variety. But Holly did not notice the sweetness. Julius was gone. Artemis was dead. Butler was dead. How could she go on? What was the point?
Tears dropped from her lashes, running into tiny cracks in the concrete.
Get up! said her core of steel. The part of her that made Holly Short such an excellent officer. You are an LET officer. There is more at stake here than jour personal grieving. Time enough to cry later.
In a minute. I’ll get up in a minute. I just need sixty seconds.
Holly felt as though the grief had scooped out her insides. She felt hollow, numb.
Incapacitated.
‘How touching,’ said a voice. Robotic and familiar.
Holly did not even look up. ‘Koboi. Have you come to gloat? Does murder make you happy?’
‘Hmm?’ said the voice, seriously considering the question. ‘You know, it does. It actually does make me happy.’
Holly sniffled, shaking the last tears from her eyes. She decided not to cry again until Koboi was behind bars.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, rising from the concrete roof. Hovering at head height was a small bio- bomb. This model was spherical, about the size of a melon, and equipped with a plasma screen. Opal’s happy features were plastered across the monitor.
‘Oh, I just followed you from the chute because I wanted to see what total despair looks like. It’s not very fetching, is it?’
For a few moments the screen displayed Holly’s own distraught face, before flashing back to Opal.
‘Just detonate, and be damned,’ growled Holly.
The bio-bomb rose a little way, slowly circling Holly’s head.
‘Not just yet. I think there’s a spark of hope in you yet. So, I would like to extinguish that. In a moment I will
