Holly stepped into the 3-D image. Her body was surrounded by strobes of light.
“Team one goes after the security and switches the vault guards’ oxygen canisters. Team two goes after the box. Simple. We go in pairs. You and Mulch. Artemis and me.”
“Oh no,” said Juliet, shaking her head. “I have to go with Artemis. He’s my Principal. My brother would stick to Artemis like glue, and so will I.”
Holly stepped out of the hologram. “Won’t work. You can’t fly and you can’t climb walls. There has to be one fairy per team. If you don’t like it, take it up with Artemis next time you see him.”
Juliet scowled. It made sense. Of course it did. Artemis’s plans always made sense. It was only too clear now why Artemis had not revealed the entire plan in Ireland. He knew she would object. It was bad enough being separated for the past six hours. But the most difficult phase of the mission lay ahead, and Artemis would not have a Butler at his shoulder.
Holly stepped back into the hologram. “Team one, you and Mulch, climb the Needle and burn through on the eighty-fifth floor. From there you place this video clip on a CCTV cable.” Holly held up what looked like a twist of wire. “Loaded fiber optic,” she explained. “Allows for remote hijacking of any video system. With this in place, Foaly can send the signal from every camera in the building to our helmets. He can also send the humans any signal he wants them to see. You will also replace two oxygen cylinders with our own special mix.”
Juliet placed the video clip in her jacket pocket.
“I will enter from the roof,” continued Holly. “From there I proceed to Artemis’s room. As soon as Team One gives us the all clear, we’ll go after the C Cube.”
“You make it sound so easy,” said Juliet.
Mulch laughed. “She always does that,” he said. “And it never is.”
At the base of the Spiro Needle
Juliet Butler had been trained in seven martial arts disciplines. She had learned to ignore pain and sleep deprivation. She could resist torture both physical and psychological. But nothing had prepared her for what she would have to endure to get into this building.
The Needle had no blind sides. There was twenty-four hour activity on each face, so they were forced to begin their ascent from the sidewalk. Juliet pulled the van around, double-parking it as close to the wall as she could.
They went out through the sunroof, draped in Holly’s single sheet of camouflage foil. Juliet was clipped onto the Moonbelt on Mulch’s waist.
She rapped on Mulch’s helmet. “You stink.”
Mulch’s reply came through the cylindrical transmitter in Juliet’s ear. “To you maybe, but to a dwarf female, I am the essence of a healthy male. You’re the one that stinks, Mud Girl. To me, you smell worse than a skunk in two-month-old socks.”
Holly stuck her head through the sunroof.
“Quiet!” she hissed. “Both of you! We’re on a tight schedule, in case you’ve forgotten. Juliet, your precious Principal is stuck in a room up there waiting for me to show up. It’s five minutes past four already. The guards are due to change in less than an hour, and I still have to finish mesmerising these goons. We have a fifty-five minute window here. Let’s not waste it arguing.”
“Why can’t you just fly us up to the ledge?”
“Basic military tactics. If we split up, then one team might make it. If we’re together, then if one goes down, we all go down. Divide and conquer.”
Her words sobered Juliet. The fairy girl was right, she should have known that. It was happening again, she was losing concentration at a vital moment.
“Okay. Let’s go. I’ll hold my breath.”
Mulch stuck both palms in his mouth, sucking any vestiges of moisture from the pores.
“Hold on,” he said, having removed his hands from his palate. “Here we go.”
The dwarf flexed his powerful legs, leaping five feet to the wall of the Spiro Needle. Juliet bobbed along behind, feeling for all the world as though she were under water. The problem with riding a Moonbelt was that along with weightlessness came loss of coordination and sometimes space nausea, too. Moonbelts were designed for carrying inanimate objects, not live fairies, and certainly not human beings.