Blunt stuck his head through the hatch. “No one in there except some dumb attendant.”
Spiro was not surprised. “I didn’t think so. But they’re here somewhere. Believe it or not, Digence, Artemis Fowl did not get suckered by a goon like you. He’s here because he wants to be here.”
Artemis was not surprised by this deduction. It was only natural that Spiro be suspicious.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said. “I’m here because this odious little man threatened to crush my skull between his teeth. Why else would I come? The C Cube is useless to you, and I could easily construct another one.”
Spiro was not even listening. “Yeah yeah, whatever you say, kid. But let me tell you something. You bit off more than you could chew when you agreed to come here. The Spiro Needle has the best security on the planet. We’ve got stuff in there that even the military don’t have. Once those doors close behind you, you’re on your own. Nobody is coming to save you. Nobody. Understand?”
Artemis nodded. He understood what Spiro was saying to him. That wasn’t to say that he agreed with it. Jon Spiro might have “stuff ” that the military didn’t have, but Artemis Fowl had “stuff ” that humans had never seen.
A Sikorsky executive helicopter whisked them downtown to the Spiro Needle. They landed on a helipad on the skyscraper’s roof. Artemis was familiar with helicopter controls, and realized how difficult it must be to land in the bluster of the Windy City.
“The wind speed must be treacherous at this altitude,” he said casually. Holly could record the information on her helmet chip.
“You’re telling me,” shouted the pilot over the rotors’ din. “It gets to over sixty miles an hour on top of the Needle. The helipad can sway up to thirty feet in rough conditions.”
Spiro groaned, giving Blunt a nod. Arno reached forward and whacked the pilot’s helmet.
“Shut up, you moron!” snapped Spiro. “Why don’t you give him the blueprints to the building while you’re at it?” He turned to Artemis. “And in case you’re wondering, Arty, there aren’t any blueprints floating around. Anybody who goes looking in City Hall is going to find that file mysteriously missing. I have the only set, so don’t bother getting one of your associates to do an Internet search.”
No surprises there. Artemis had already run several searches himself, although he hadn’t really expected Spiro to be so careless anyway.
They climbed down from the Sikorsky. Artemis was careful to point the iris-cam at any security feature that could be useful later. Butler had often told him that even a seemingly insignificant detail, like the number of steps in a stairwell, could be vital when planning an operation.
An elevator brought them down from the helipad to a key-coded door. Closed-circuit cameras were strategically placed to cover the entire rooftop. Spiro moved ahead to the keypad. Artemis felt a sharp sting in his eye, and suddenly the iris-cam magnified his vision by four. In spite of the distance and shadows, he could easily discern the entry code.
“I hope you got that,” he muttered, feeling the mike vibrating on his throat.
Arno Blunt bent his knees, so his extraordinary teeth were an inch from Artemis’s nose.
“Are you talking to someone?”
“Me?” said Artemis. “Who would I be talking to? We’re eighty floors up, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Blunt grabbed the teenager by the lapels, hoisting him off the tarmac. “Maybe you’re wearing a wire. Maybe you have someone listening to us right now.”
“How could I be wearing a wire, you big oaf? Your miniature hit man hasn’t let me out of his sight for the entire journey. He even accompanied me to the bathroom.”
Spiro cleared his throat noisily. “Hey there, Mr. I-Gotta-Make-My-Point, that kid slips over the side and you might as well throw yourself off, because that boy is worth more to me than an army of bodyguards.”
Blunt set Artemis down.
“You’re not going to be valuable forever, Fowl,” he whispered ominously. “And when your stock falls, I’ll be waiting.”
*
They took a mirrored elevator to the eighty-fifth floor, where Dr. Pearson waited along with two more muscle-bound guards. Artemis could tell by the look in their eyes that these two weren’t exactly brain surgeons. In fact, they were as close as you could get to being Rottweilers and still balance on two legs. It was probably handy to have these two around to break things and not ask questions.
Spiro called one of them over.
“Pex, do you know what the Antonellis charge if you lose their personnel?”
Pex had to consider it for a moment. His lips moved as he thought.
“Yeah, wait, I got it. Twenty grand for a metal man and fifteen for a monkey.”
“That’s dead, right?”
“Dead or incapati . . . incatacip . . . broken.”