Chapter Eight

"He what," growled the Commander.

Holly's voice came from his right, cool and clear. "He built a computer out of stolen fairy technology, yes."

A frustrated sigh, and Artemis had to resist the urge to cough as smoke burned his nostrils. Root had lit one of his noxious cigars, no doubt. Not that Artemis blamed him — the commander was right to be upset. He did resent being talked about as though he wasn't even there, though. Perhaps he should speak up, but what could he say? The situation had just been aptly described, so there wasn't much he could – or should – add in his own defense. A solution, then? Yes, that sounded better.

If Spiro had done the sensible thing, he'd have placed the cube under the best security he had to offer. Security that most likely wouldn't be able to come close to what Foaly could accomplish. Which meant that if Artemis was correct, he'd have placed the cube in a very particular room. That was the trouble with having captives; they tended to have a lot of time on their hands, and could overhear things if you weren't careful. Dangerous things. Things that might tell them how to get through your security, for example.

"As unfortunate as the situation is," Artemis began, "I may have a suggestion about how to proceed."

Root's skepticism was audible. Which really meant, of course, that he wasn't trying to hide it. "You have a suggestion."

"I do, in fact. I can give you an educated guess about the cube's current location."

A little more interested now. "Can you? Go on, then. Don't keep us waiting."

Artemis inhaled deeply, thinking back to the day he'd arrived at the Spiro Needle. A bolt of pain lanced through his chest, but he forced himself to ignore it. The pain was hardly more important than the information he had to offer.

Hallways flashed to life as he brought the memories to the surface. Artemis saw Spiro's smirk, the way the man's eyes roamed up and down his body even then. Blunt had crowded in on his other side, leering with those broken, pulped teeth and bloody gums. I'm just a child, Artemis wanted to scream. I was just a child, and you had no right to–

But no. Focus. He had to focus. He could feel things later.

"He had a vault for his highest security projects. I would hear him and his men talking about it from time to time, even recently. He always boasted that its security could never be cracked. Of course, he still — most likely — does not know much about the advanced nature of fairy technology, so I suspect that we can infiltrate his facilities. I also know that the vault is on the floor below my–– my cell, so we could start our search there."

Tense silence filled the room for a moment. Then someone exhaled, though thankfully without sending a fresh wave of smoke everywhere, which Artemis appreciated.

Root sounded thoughtful this time. "I suppose that's not nothing, but we're going to need more than that. What kind of security are we talking about here? Scans, a bunch of lasers, what?"

"When he brought me past what I believe was the vault, I remember him speaking aloud. 'It's Jon Spiro. I'm the boss, so open up quick.' He may have it keyed to recognize his voice." Artemis paused, then added, "Most likely more than that, of course, but we should be able to find out what else he has set up via some infiltration and Foaly's scans. I would expect a fingerprint verification process, at the very least, but I have no way to know that at the moment."

"Didn't Foaly run scans earlier? Don't tell me that pompous centaur forgot to save them."

The door, which had whooshed open mid sentence, had clearly admitted the centaur in question. He clopped over to the desk, hooves striking loudly on the tiles.

"I save everything, Commander. My backups have backups. Behold."

Artemis couldn't help the sarcasm that entered his tone at Foaly's choice of words. "And for those of us who cannot behold?"

"Er... right. Point taken." Another soft clop or two as Foaly situated himself. "So, the long and short of it is that the building is completely wired. I'm talking motion sensors, cameras, and laser grids. The whole works. We were lucky to find a window left open the first time." He didn't sound happy to admit that. "Spiro might be a nasty Mud Man, but he's not dumb, I'll give him that. I got into the camera systems before, thanks to Holly, but security will probably be on edge after our last visit. We could use some help here, especially if Spiro's got this cube locked up as tight as Fowl thinks he does."

Holly shifted in her seat. Artemis tried to ignore how cold he felt without the comforting awareness of her body heat beside him. "Do you think we could use Mulch Diggums, Commander? I think he's been released by now, so we could even ask him to be involved as a civilian consultant."

"And it wouldn't even break regulations this time, as long as he signs the contract," Root snorted. Then, in a more sober tone, he added, "I don't know. That reprobate doesn't do anything for free. What would we have to bargain with?"

While they began to wrangle over what incentives to offer, Artemis had already moved on to analyzing a speculative plan. Having Mr. Diggums on their side would undoubtedly raise their chances of success. He was a highly skilled thief. The dwarf's face appeared to Artemis in his memories as he thought, grinning triumphantly as he opened the plasma cannon supply system and calling 'now that, my boy, is talent'. But no matter how skilled an asset might be, they had to be utilized at the right place and time if the overall plan was to succeed. So what role should he play? Where to place him in relation to the other pieces?

If they could entice him to help, his skills would be most useful at the vault, Artemis decided. Not being able to see the security measures himself left him woefully under-prepared for what the highest tier of human engineering had in store. Holly and Root could relay what they saw back to him if they had to, but Diggums would know what to look for in a way they simply couldn't. Not without some intensive lessons, at least.

Artemis opened his mouth to mention what he'd been thinking, then closed it again. A tense silence had descended over the room's other occupants. He heard Foaly shifting uncomfortably from hoof to hoof, and Holly huffed as she readjusted her position. Obviously piqued. That didn't sound good for his chances of keeping the others on task. How was Artemis supposed to broach the subject without upsetting one or all of the fairies present? If he just jumped into the conversation as though nothing had happened, would that be seen as insensitive?

Time was critical to the mission. Holly would understand, even if she was upset with him at the moment. Right? And even if she didn't forgive him, Artemis admitted to himself, he deserved her anger and disdain. He'd done truly stupid things and then lied by omission. In the end, he deserved whatever she decided to offer, even if that was absolutely nothing.

She could hardly get more irritated with him, after all.

He had just opened his mouth again when Root cut in. "Whatever you've got to say, Fowl, out with it. Don't keep us waiting."

"I was merely thinking that perhaps Mr. Diggums and myself would make the best team for opening the vault." The urge to spread his hands – a clear of course gesture – rears its head. Artemis laces his fingers together instead. No need to be patronizing. "His aid would be invaluable. That is, provided that you, Foaly, can find the blueprints for a certain project. It should be somewhere in the archive of a company called Sullivan's Steelworks, based out of Northumbria. Do you think you can take a look at their servers before we leave?"

"Can I take a look at their servers? Can I take a look at their servers? Don't make me laugh. I can hack servers better than a sweartoad can–"

An actual hiss cut the centaur off. When she found words, Holly's voice was cold and full of barely-veiled annoyance. "Now is not the time for bragging, please and thank you. If you can do it, do it."

Oh dear. Artemis rubbed his temples. This may get rather unpleasant if she doesn't calm down. But he'd never been particularly good at diffusing situations, so he leaned back in his chair to think about what else he might have learned about Spiro's security, both inside and outside the vault. The windows higher up were certainly not bulletproof, so he had no doubt fairy acid or lasers could make a suitable entrance. The question was really whether there were any motion sensors hidden around the windows to trip up potential intruders. There hadn't seemed to be when Holly entered to rescue him, but if Spiro was still half as paranoid as he had been he may have changed that.

But they had a general course of action now. That was all they could have, considering the fact that they still needed one more team member.

He tried to ignore the dread that writhed in the pit of his stomach, and the feeling that there was something vital that they were missing.

oOoOo

Mulch Diggums, as it happened, had done quite well for himself after his capture and subsequent release. Being captured and put in prison yet again after the goblin rebellion had been a surprisingly positive experience. His cellmate, Doodah Day, was a decent guy, even if he did have an unfortunate weakness for drag racing. And fish. And seafood in general. He'd promised that he'd go straight, though, once he was out, and for once the idea had appealed to Mulch too. The criminal life, for whatever reason, had gone south for him. Maybe it was a good idea to quit while he was ahead. Well, while he still had his looks, at any rate.

The pair had even begun their own start-up transport business together. Not that there weren't enough of those to go around in Haven, of course, but they had managed to develop a fairly loyal customer base, so things weren't all bad. Mulch and Doodah's bills were being paid, even if a higher overhead would be nice, and the work didn't require getting up during the arse end of the morning or being hauled off to a cell again. Perfect.

They'd taken up office space at the back of a garage big enough to house two haulage vehicles and not much else. Mulch typically held the fort and did the paperwork, which suited him better than driving. It was quiet, and once he'd gotten through the mountains of contracts and deposit confirmations he was free to head off to his favorite dwarf chophouse. Nice and easy. Plenty of time to develop other hobbies, like doing work as a locksmith on the side when people forgot their keys.

Of course, on that particular day, he wasn't so lucky. Life, it seemed, had other plans for him.

When the door to his office swung open, Mulch blinked. People usually did not come over unless they were Doodah or had come to discuss a deal. And he was right to be surprised. It wasn't every day that Root, Holly Short, and Artemis Fowl came to visit little old him.

"Commander, Captain Short," the dwarf noted, leaning back in his custom swivel chair. "What's with the Mud Man?"

Especially, though he held short of voicing the thought completely, this particular Mud Man. And come to think of it, it was amazing how much Fowl had grown. He had to crouch outside to be part of the conversation.

Mulch wondered what had happened to his eyes, though. It didn't look like it had been a pleasant or voluntary experience.

Root leaned against the desk. "I'll cut to the chase. We have a situation."

Of course. "Y'know, Julius, it would be nice if you could make a social visit once in a while. Balance out all the threats of death and destruction." Mulch shook his head. "And by the way, hello Mud Man. I'd say yer lookin' well, but we'd both know I'm lyin'. Seems to me that one of us had a rough six years, an' it wasn't me."

Much to his surprise, Fowl turned away, a frown tugging at his lips. And what did you know, he'd developed a nice little premature gray streak above his temple on that side.

"That's part of the problem," Root sighed, more subdued than usual. "Fowl was held captive by someone who also stole an important piece of fairy technology."

That explained the urgent visit, then. Rolling his eyes, Mulch pulled out his communicator and sent a message to Doodah. Looked like he'd be off work for a day or two. Maybe more. "What would you do without me, eh? But wherever we're breaking into, I'd better get a medal for this. You owe me, Julius, and I don't work for free."

Captain Short's jaw had dropped. She made an effort to pick it up off the floor, then managed, "Just like that?"

"For a medal," Mulch corrected.

Now her eyes narrowed, more than a little suspicious. "For a medal. Right."

And to find out what the hell happened to Fowl. But the dwarf didn't bother saying that out loud as he pushed back his chair and grabbed a few items. Communicator, locksmith's kit, keys, and wallet. He'd been surprised by the Fowl kid's moxie during the rebellion, and seeing how tired he looked right now was… weird, and unpleasant.

Whoever had managed to outsmart Fowl, they were about to get more than they'd bargained for.

oOoOo

Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy the new installment. Thanks to Max and Jelli, as always, for letting me know what they thought before posting, and thanks to all those who've reviewed and favorited and followed as well. If you're so inclined to comment on this chapter, please let me know what you thought, especially about our good friend Mr. Diggums coming back into the picture. Otherwise, I'm glad you made it to the end. Thanks for reading!