Amber & Ice

Chapter 27: To Catch a Sneak

To casual passers by, the theatre appeared deserted at 2pm the next day. The windows were dark and empty and the lights above the door remained switched off. The doors themselves were closed, although if anyone stopped to look more closely, they might notice that the frost on the lock and door handle had been disturbed. This was the sort of detail noticed only by the group sat on the terrace of the cafe across the road.

They made a strange group, sat outside in the middle of winter with icy glistening beneath their feet and more steam emitted from their breath than the untouched coffee cups on their tables. They were dressed identically in black jackets and cargo pants with pink detailing. A fuchsia swan crest and the letters ‘FI’ were emblazoned on their backs. Every last one of them was staring at the empty theatre.

“I don’t understand. They should be here by now!” One of the men said, his shrill voice cutting through the icy silence in evident panic.

“It would seem your intel was bad, Hermes.”

“But there’s no way. She said-”

“Ah yes, the mysterious ‘she’, who’s last name you appear to have conveniently forgotten and whose ‘apartment’ was completely deserted when an agent stopped by this morning.”

“She’s real, Castor! I swear!”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re setting me up to look like a fool, Hermes. There was no one here last time you bought me and there is no one here now.”

“Perhaps they entered from the back. They’re probably all sat in there now discussing their next move. They’re probably warm too.” He mumbled the last part, stamping his feet against the ground to warm his toes.

Castor sighed and got slowly to his feet. “For your sake, Hermes, I hope you are right. I cannot abide people wasting my time.”

“They are in there. I promise.” But as he spoke, Hermes felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. They had to be in there. They had to be. This was his only chance to fully join the institute. If he failed again…

Castor beckoned one of his men over with a stiff jerk of his head. “It’s time. Move in.”

Only a slight flicker in the man’s eyes betrayed his confusion at being ordered to attack an empty building. He was sensible enough not to voice his concerns. Instead, he turned and signalled silently to the rest of the group with a series of rapid hand movements. Half of the group began clearing the street, guiding citizens with confused expressions to the end of the road and blocking the entrance so that no one else could enter. A few stationed themselves outside of the various shops and cafes to keen everyone trapped inside. The rest made their way towards the doors to the theatre, their hands poised, ready, over the guns at their hips. The man Castor had spoken to was at the front of the group and he extended his hand towards the handle without hesitation.

As he twisted the metal handle downward a deafening bang filled the air and fire exploded from the windows on either side of the door. The world became a searing mess of flames, shattered glass and falling shrapnel. The agents closest to the door were tossed backwards by the force of the blast, landing in a tangled heap on the floor. The explosion had not been powerful enough to kill them, but the force of the blast and the heat of the flames had done enough damage that they wouldn’t be getting up in a hurry.

Castor, who was still stood by the cafe, was engulfed in a cloud of ash and smoke which brought him, spluttering, to his knees, his ears ringing. As soon as his lungs had cleared he forced himself to straighten and began feeling blindly through the dust for the person who must surely be at fault.

“All inside, are they, Hermes?”

“Castor! I don’t know what happened! I swear! They must have set me up!”