The Safekeepers

Chapter Two

Kaylee stood up, took one final, bitter look at the lot of them and left the villa.

Bartimus, Marty and Stefan looked at each other in confusion.

“That didn’t go as well as planned.”

Bartimus glanced at Stefan wearily, “You go to her Stefan, she knows you least. Knock some sense into the child.”

“Sir I don’t think…”

“Just do it.”

Stefan nodded glumly, glanced at Martin’s unreadable face, then left. He felt sorry for the girl, he really did. If he hadn’t been given a choice and had been forced into becoming a Safekeeper he wouldn’t have been happy either, a life on the edge didn’t suit everyone.

Kaylee hadn’t gone far. He spotted a crouched figure on the porch of one of the empty villas and walked over, doubting that what he said would make any difference.

“Kaylee?”

The figure turned and made a slight effort to correct its posture, turning its head up towards him. Her hair had unraveled completely from its bun and hung loose about her shoulders, her wide eyes stared up at him, heavy with sorrow.

“Did Bartimus send you here?” she asked eventually. Stefan shifted uncomfortably.

She sighed, “I knew it. You can go back to him and say I’m ready to hear about his assignment.”

“What?” Stefan did a double take, his voice sharp.

“You’re surprised?”

“Slightly,” he confessed, raking a hand through his hair, “I thought you’d… scream or something at least?”

Kaylee smiled slightly, “And what would be the point of that?”

Stunned, Stefan sat and joined her on the porch.

“I’m upset but that’s not going to change anything. The only place in the world where I belong is here, if I need to work to keep that place then that’s what I’ll do.”

“You’re not scared about joining the Company and becoming a safekeeper?”

“Terrified,” she grinned, “were you ever scared?”

Stefan nodded, standing up and reaching out a hand, “I still am most of the time but at least I had a choice.”

They reached the front door of Marty’s villa and Stefan stopped. Very far away they could hear the veranda conversation and the sound of someone strumming a guitar.

“Handel.” Stefan said softly.

“What?”

“Earlier… you asked what music I listen to. Well, I prefer Handel to Tchaikovsky.” He looked down at her, “You ready to hear what your assignment is?”

Kaylee took a deep breath, “Yes I am.”

As soon as they entered the villa Bartimus rushed over to Kaylee and wrapped her into a hug.

“Kaylee my dear, I’m sorry if what I said completely changed your image of your life here but I would have never put your life at any risk.”

“I know.”

“Forgive me?”

Kaylee hugged her elderly Guardian back without a response. She turned to Marty gingerly, “So what is your role as an I.T expert?”

Before Marty could speak, Bartimus had flown back over to the table. “Right. This is where we begin. Stefan don’t hover like a fly, shut the door and join us. Marty, lights please.”

Kaylee approached the table and sat back in her seat. Bartimus waved a piece of paper in front of her with the measurements of a missile and instructions in Russian.

“Is this why you made sure I was taught Russian?” she asked, bizarrely finding the fact almost funny.

“This” Bartimus emphasized, “is the prototype for the latest mode of nuclear missile, one which we believe a Russian oligarch is manufacturing to supply to North Korea.”

“Payment is in rare earth metals: Korea’s magnesite reserves are the second largest in the world after China’s,” Stefan informed her.

Bartimus frowned at Stefan for the intrusion and continued talking, “The Company, is an independent peacekeeping organization scattered across the globe. Its members are known as safekeepers. Right now these missiles are at the top of our agenda. We need to find hard proof of the existence of these missiles and to shut down the operation before they reach the hands of the North Korean government. Already, North Korea is threatening to use missile warfare to unify Korea. Both the United States and the Commonwealth have sworn into defending the South.”

“How long until the missiles are ready to be sent?” Kaylee asked.

“Three months.”

She liked her dry lips nervously, “What can I do?”

Marty clicked a button and all of the televisions on the back wall of his villa changed to show different views of a site in England (Kaylee had spotted an English flag atop one of the buildings). Groups of young people in suits moved past the different cameras.

“This” Marty said proudly, “is St Emilian College in Herefordshire, England. Notorious as both the most expensive boarding school in the world, and also the most prestigious.”

“To get in” Bartimus continued, “your family needs to be extremely well-connected. Even Senates can’t get their kids into the school unless they become President. The students of St Emilian are being trained to become the global leaders of the future.”

“What does this have to do with Russian missiles?”

“Everything. No one can get proof of the missiles; they’re too well protected. We’ve had people in the field and they’ve informed us that the missiles themselves can only be accessed or moderated by a member of the family who manufacture them: Oligarch Andrei Orlov and his three children, Daria, Dmitri and Irina. Andrei’s wife is dead but he has a girlfriend of five years, Tatyana – though even she can’t get access to the missiles in question. All three of the children attend St. Emilian’s. You are to be enrolled as a pupil and your task will be to find a way to ensure the missiles don’t reach North Korea.”

“What?”, she spluttered, “how?”

“Befriend the Orlov family, report any details or intentions for the missiles to us, and find a way to visit the family in Russia so you can prevent the missiles leaving the country. We’ll also brief you on the children of some other powerful families we’re watching, you can let us know if you hear or see anything unusual: I dare say many of these students make business deals on behalf of their parents.”

“The school term doesn’t start for a month yet. I’m here to ensure that you are prepared properly for the task. Anna, another field agent, will be arriving one day over the next few weeks to talk with you. Then there’s Tybolt. The three of us make up your team, though of course there will be plenty more members of the Company operating behind the scenes.” Stefan handed her a sheaf of notes on the Orlov family, “Start by reading these tonight.”

“And Kaylee,” Bartimus warned, “not all the academics here belong to the Company, neither do the staff. Don’t mention this to anyone, for all intents and purposes; Stefan is a university student who’s residing this summer as your tennis coach. Burn any files you receive once you’ve read them.”

She nodded, “I’ll see you all tomorrow then.”

Taking her leave she didn’t miss the subtle look that passed between Bartimus, Stefan and Martin Philips.

“Bloody hell,” Kaylee thought bitterly as she stumbled back towards the main house in the dark. It was past midnight now and very cold. When her parents had died she’d thought that at least from then on she’d be safe. She couldn’t have been more wrong.