Artemis Fowl_ The Arctic Incident - Eoin Colfer [45]
Butler placed a hand on his young master’s shoulders. They could talk later. ‘The goblins are gone. Funny thing. Two of them dropped low for reconnaissance, then the other one shot them in the back.’
Root nodded. ‘Power play. Goblins are their own worst enemies. But right now, we’ve got to get off this train.’
‘There’s another bend coming up in about half a klick,’ said Butler. ‘That’s our best chance.’
‘So, how do we disembark?’ asked Artemis.
Butler grinned. ‘Disembark is a pretty gentle term for what I have in mind.’
Artemis groaned. More running and jumping.
OPERATIONS’ BOOTH
Foaly’s brain was bubbling like a sea slug in a deep-fat fryer. He still had options, providing Cudgeon didn’t actually shoot him. One shot and it was all over. Centaurs didn’t have magic. Not a drop. They got by on brains alone. That and their ability to trample their enemies underfoot. But Foaly had a feeling that Briar wouldn’t plug him just yet. Too busy gloating.
‘Hey, Foaly,’ said the lieutenant. ‘Why don’t you go for the intercom? See what happens.’
Foaly could guess what would happen. ‘Don’t worry, Briar. No sudden moves.’
Cudgeon laughed, and he sounded genuinely happy. ‘Briar? First name terms now, is it? You must realize how much trouble you’re in.’
Foaly was starting to realize just that. Beyond the tinted glass, LEP techs were beavering away trying to track down the mole, oblivious to the drama being played out not two metres away. He could see and hear them, but it was one-way surveillance.
The centaur had only himself to blame. He had insisted that the Operations’ booth be constructed to his own paranoid standards. A titanium cube with blast-proof windows. The entire room was wireless, not even a fibre-optic cable to connect Operations to the outside world.
Totally impregnable. Unless, of course, you opened the door to throw a few insults at an old enemy. Foaly groaned. His mother had always said that his smart mouth would get him into trouble. But all was not lost. He still had a few tricks up his sleeve. A plasma floor, for instance.
‘So what’s this all about, Cudgeon?’ asked the centaur, raising his hooves just off the tiles. ‘And please don’t say world domination.’
Cudgeon continued to smile. This was his moment.
‘Not immediately. The Lower Elements will suffice for now.’
‘But why?’
Cudgeon’s eyes were tinged with madness. ‘Why? You have the gall to ask me why? I was the the Council’s golden boy! In fifty years I would have been chairman! And then along comes the Artemis Fowl Affair. In one short day all my hopes are dashed. I end up deformed and demoted! And it was all because of you, Foaly. You and Root! So the only way to get my life back on track is to discredit both of you. You will be blamed for the goblin attacks, and Julius will be dead and dishonoured. And as an added bonus, I even get Artemis Fowl. It’s as close to perfect as I could have hoped.’
Foaly snorted. ‘Do you really think you can defeat the LEP with a handful of Softnose weapons?’
‘Defeat the LEP? Why would I want to do that? I am the hero of the LEP. Or rather I will be. You will be the villain of this piece.’
‘We’ll see about that, baboon face,’ said Foaly, activating a switch, sending an infra-red signal to a receiver in the floor. In five-tenths of a second, a secret membrane of plasma would warm up. Half a second later, a neutrino charge would spread across the plasma gel like wildfire, hopping anyone connected to the floor off at least three walls. In theory.
Cudgeon giggled delightedly. ‘Don’t tell me. Your plasma tiles aren’t working.’
Foaly was flummoxed. Momentarily. Then he lowered his hooves gingerly and pressed another button. This one engaged a voice-activated laser. Basically, the next person to talk got plugged. The centaur held his breath.
‘No plasma tiles,’ continued Cudgeon. ‘And no voice-activated laser. You really are slipping, Foaly. Not that I’m surprised. I always knew you’d be exposed for the donkey you are.’
The lieutenant settled into a swivel chair, propping his feet on the computer bank. ‘So