Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer [32]
“Your officer? Oh, we have management. How privileged. All the better to make my point.”
Alarm bells went off in Root’s head.
“Your point?”
The voice emanating from the aluminium speaker grid was as serious as a nuclear winter.
“My point, little fairy man, is that I am not someone to be trifled with. Now, if you would please observe the package.”
The commander duly observed. It was a nondescript enough shape. Flat, like a slab of putty, or . . . Oh no.
Beneath the sealant, a red light flicked on.
“Fly, little fairy,” said the voice. “And tell your friends Artemis Fowl the Second says hello.”
Beside the red light, green symbols began to click through a routine. Root recognized them from his human studies class back in the Academy. They were . . . numbers. Going backward. A countdown!
“D’Arvit!” growled Root. (There is no point translating that word, as it would have to be censored.)
He turned and fled up the corridor, Artemis Fowl’s mocking tones carrying down the metal funnel.
“Three,” said the human. “Two . . .”
“D’Arvit,” repeated Root.
The corridor seemed much longer, now. A sliver of starry sky peeked through a wedge of open door. Root activated his wings—this would take some fancy flying. The Hummingbird’s span was barely narrower than the ship’s corridor.
“One.”
Sparks flew as the electronic wings scraped a protruding pipe. Root cartwheeled, righting himself at Mach one.
“Zero . . .” said the voice. “Boom!”
Inside the vacuum-packed package, a detonator sparked, igniting a kilogram of pure Semtex. The whitehot reaction devoured the surrounding oxygen in a nanosecond and surged down the path of least resistance, which was, of course, immediately after LEP Commander Root.
Root dropped his visor, opening the throttle to maximum. The door was just a few feet away now. It was just a matter of what reached it first—the fairy or the fireball.
He made it. Barely. He could feel the explosion rattling his torso as he threw himself into a reverse loop. Flames latched on to his jumpsuit, licking along his legs. Root continued his maneuver, crashing directly into the icy water. He broke the surface swearing.
Above him, the whaler had been totally consumed by noxious flames.
“Commander,” came a voice in his earpiece. It was Foaly. He was back in range.
“Commander. What’s your status?”
Root lifted free of the water’s grip.
“My status, Foaly, is extremely annoyed. Get on your computers. I want to know everything there is to know about one Artemis Fowl, and I want to know it before I get back to base.”
“Yessir, Commander. Right away.”
No wisecrack. Even Foaly realized that this was not the time.
Root hovered at three hundred yards. Below him the blazing whaler drew emergency vehicles like moths to a light. He dusted charred threads from his elbows. There will be a reckoning for this Artemis Fowl, he vowed. Count on it.
CHAPTER 6
SIEGE
Artemis leaned back in the study’s leather swivel chair, smiling over steepled fingers. Perfect. That little explosion should cure those fairies of their cavalier attitude. Plus there was one less whaler in the world. Artemis Fowl did not like whalers. There were less objectionable ways to produce oil by-products.
The pinhole camera concealed in the locator had worked perfectly. With its high-resolution images he had picked out the fairy’s telltale breath crystals.
Artemis consulted the basement surveillance monitor. His captive was sitting on the cot now, head in hands. Artemis frowned. He hadn’t expected the fairy to appear so . . . human. Until now, they had merely been quarry. Animals to be hunted. But now, seeing one like this, in obvious discomfort—it changed things.
Artemis put the computer to sleep and crossed to the main doors. Time for a little chat with their guest. Just as his fingers alighted on the brass handles, the door flew open before him. Juliet appeared in the doorway, cheeks flushed from haste.
“Artemis,” she gasped. “Your mother. She . . .”
Artemis felt a lead ball drop in his stomach.
“Yes?”
“Well, she says, Artemis . . . Artemis,