The Angel Expedition

Chapter 1 - The Finest Thread

September 23rd.

He was a quiet man. A quiet man with the finest taste in books and the stories that unfolded within the trust, safety, and comfort of their pages. His tiny, well-loved house on Folly Street in London was always untidy but always clean; with many antique books, manuals, blueprints, scripts, and unfinished handwritten stories cluttering up each room, and filling each one with the familiar and comforting old book scent that kissed most libraries.

It was an early Monday morning, and it had rained heavily overnight, meaning that the concrete he walked on made his polished, black, formal work shoes squeak with each step as he began his journey to work. He loved his job, and was raised on stories about adventures exploring mysterious, mythical lands and discovering magnificent ancient artefacts that were only said to be that of legend. Nowadays, he was very well known within the archaeology business and had won a number of awards for his contribution to many museums, galleries and history itself.

Once he had parked his car in the car park beneath the building where he worked, he grabbed his tan leather satchel, threading his arm through the strap and resting it gently on his shoulder, and exited his vehicle, locking it behind him. He knew that it wasn't necessary to lock the car as the car park was heavily guarded with the most expensive security cameras, password-protected gates to enter and exit, no pedestrian entrance, and many security guards stationed on both floors, but he enjoyed routine and found satisfaction in the noise that his car alarm made when he locked it.

He nodded to the two security guards as he entered the tall, white, four-story building, one guard on either side of the large, glass door, and walked through the grand foyer of 'Emrys & Emrys'. Its smooth marble floors amplified each one of his footsteps as he approached the lift, just as they had each day since he had started working there when he was just sixteen-years-old, and pressed a button, making his way to his boss's office to say good morning and to prepare himself for the day's tasks. It wasn't often that his boss had the grand foyer's floor polished, and being a very observant man, this indicated to him that his boss was in a particularly good mood that day.

Mr Bertrand Emrys, founder of 'Emrys & Emrys', was sat at his polished, dark, wooden desk eating a large slice of gooey chocolate fudge cake, the crumbs falling and getting lost in his perfectly groomed silver beard as he chewed each mouthful. He looked up at his employee as he entered the room, his furrowed light grey eyebrows raising in shock from being caught in his despicable act. He knew very well that he shouldn't be eating cake, but no one was going to stop him. Not that day.

"Good morning, sir."

"Ah, good morning, Mr Carlisle!" Bertrand stood and dropped the slice of cake onto the plate that was hidden behind a tall stack of large books. He quickly brushed away the crumbs that had fallen to his chest in the hopes that his employee hadn't seen them and smiled as brightly as he could. "How are we today?"

"Very well, thank you," Mr Carlisle walked forwards, slotting his large hands comfortably into the deep, silk-lined pockets of his navy suit trousers. "You're in good spirits this morning," he noted aloud, thinking back to the freshly polished white marble floor downstairs.

"There is cause for celebration, my boy!" Bertrand exclaimed, confirming his speculation. He watched his boss walk around the desk, sucking his belly in as much as he could as he moved around it, and he extended his arms as if he was about to hug him.

Mr Carlisle moved back slightly, showing Mr Emrys that he didn't want to be hugged. "What cause could be so great as to defeat your diabetic diet?" He motioned his head softly towards the unfinished chocolate fudge cake on the desk behind the books and narrowed his eyes, also allowing a small smirk to appear with his expression to make sure that his boss understood the stroke of amusement that was in his question. He was a very simple man. Simple, but very serious, and most of the time, his colleagues weren't sure when he was joking, as it was not something that he liked to do often.