Dory's Avengers Read online

  ‘It would be a pleasure, Your Lordship,’ replied Dyer, feeling happier by the minute. Talk about job satisfaction!

  Upstairs, Theo lay in his bath, attempting to cleanse away the memories of Dyer's latest abuse. Listening to the conversation from the room below, he was feeling far from comforted.

  Downstairs, in response to the sound of the doorbell, Lord William said, ‘Ah, dead on time.’

  A couple of minutes later, Brian Mooreland ushered Lysander Trevelyan into his boss's office.

  ‘Thank you, Brian. No thank you, I don't think Lysander will be needing refreshments. Now, Trevelyan,’ asked Lord William without preamble, ‘where is your son?’

  Listening intently, his bath cooling as he forgot about everything other than the conversation downstairs, Theo surmised that Lysander Trevelyan probably wasn't in for the best morning of his life. Unfortunately for Theo, Lysander wasn't the only one in for a bad time.

  ‘I promise you, Lord William, I don't have anything to do with Louis. I can only go on what Nicola tells me.’

  ‘She lied. She will be dealt with.’

  ‘Lord William, she's ill…’

  ‘What's with the Lord William, Lysander? I used to be WSB; anyone would think you're scared of me all of a sudden.’

  ‘Not at all…’

  ‘Well, you should be! Your son is missing. Your daughter and that housekeeper woman are missing too. I know what you think of Mortimer's prediction, but you're well aware that I prefer to be cautious. This is out of character, and I don't like out of character. I am about to demonstrate what happens to those who oppose me, and I don't care who they are!’

  Turning to his henchmen, Lord William said, ‘Brian, Stephen; would you be so kind as to fetch my son and bring him down here? You know where I want him.’

  Theo heard every word. He knew what was coming, and he was terrified. As usual, he was determined not to show it to Dyer and Mooreland, and they found him leaning, apparently nonchalantly, against the doorframe of his bathroom.

  ‘Morning, Mr Mooreland; hello again, Mr Dyer. I understand my presence is required downstairs. I don't think I need to dress, do I?’

  ‘Shut up,’ snapped Dyer, thumping Theo in the stomach. As the young man doubled up in pain, Dyer and Mooreland grabbed his arms and dragged him roughly down to Lord William's office. Seeing Marina's startled face appear from her room, Theo called to her.

  ‘Don't worry, Mari; it's just a little game. Go back, don't listen, put your headphones on, love you…’

  ‘Shut up!’ snapped Dyer again, as Mooreland opened the door of Lord William's office.

  ‘Usual place, Your Lordship?’ he asked. Lysander watched, doing his best to disguise his horror as Lord William's son was dragged over the room where his hands and feet were firmly shackled to iron rings set into the wall.

  ‘Your Lordship,’ said Brian Mooreland, ‘I hate to trouble you, but Lady Marina saw us bringing him down.’

  ‘Really?’ said Lord William, his tone more interested than anything. Certainly not upset. ‘Ask her to join us will you, Brian? It's about time she toughened up a bit!’

  ‘Please don't,’ said Theo's voice from the wall, his nonchalant act faltering at the idea of Marina having to witness what he knew was in store.

  ‘SILENCE!’ roared Lord William. ‘YOU ARE NOTHING.’

  As Brian Mooreland went to fetch Lady Marina, Lysander glanced at Lord William and his elder daughter. Lord William looked calm and relaxed, but it was Lady Rosanna's expression that horrified Lysander more. Her eyes were shining with pure pleasure, and she licked her lips once or twice as she anticipated the show to come.

  Marina's face was a completely different picture when she entered the room with Brian Mooreland. Seeing her naked brother chained to the wall of her father's office, she looked shocked and horrified.

  ‘Father?’ she said desperately. ‘You're not going to hurt Theo, are you?’

  ‘Come here, darling, sit with your sister and me. Can you see all right? It's just a little show for Lysander here. Theodore's done wrong; he needs to be punished. Stephen, you may proceed.’

  Picking up a fearsome leather whip and smiling broadly, Dyer strode over to Theo. As the whip cracked violently on to Theo's back over and over again, as angry welts appeared on the young man's skin, neither Lysander nor Marina dared to look away. Lord William smiled, knowing a clear message was being learned by the likeable but increasingly troublesome Lysander. If Lord William's own son could come in for such punishment, whatever would happen to Lysander's son were Louis to become problematic?

  Unable to escape to ’Thwaite's Wood in his mind, so great was his pain and his concern for Marina, Theo finally found blessed relief as he slipped from consciousness, his last scrap of dignity vanishing as he lost control of his bladder.

  ‘Father,’ said Lady Rosanna, actually clapping her hands a couple of times. ‘He's wet himself – how disgusting!’

  Looking from the serene Lord William to Lady Rosanna, who was breathless with excitement as she witnessed her brother's torture, Lysander thought grimly that it certainly wasn't Theo who was the disgusting one.

  ‘Get rid of him please, Stephen,’ said Lord William calmly, waving a contemptuous hand at his son hanging, unconscious and bleeding, against the wall. ‘Brian, would you instruct someone to clear up the mess Theodore has made? Marina, if you insist on crying so relentlessly, please go to your room.’

  Terrified, and disgusted at herself for being so, Marina ran from the room as Dyer unlocked Theo's shackles and dragged him roughly up to his fourth-floor bedroom. Disappointed that the young man remained unconscious, and for the time being beyond pain, Dyer contented himself with hurling Theo on to the wooden floor before slamming the door behind him.

  In his office, Lord William turned to Lysander. ‘Best you find your son before anyone else does, Trevelyan. You've got one last chance.’

  Someone else had already found Louis. Quite a few people, in actual fact. Louis looked around him in dismay as the shouts of his pursuers faded into the distance. Staring back at him was a group of about six or seven men, none of whom were looking very welcoming.

  Eventually, a thickset bald man stepped forward from the group.

  ‘Who the fuck are you?’ he asked.

  ‘Louis Trevelyan,’ said Louis, immediately cursing himself for speaking without thinking.

  ‘Trevelyan? That's not a good name to have. You related to that twat Lysander?’

  Before Louis could reply, another of the men said, ‘Bloody right he is. Trevelyan's kids are called Louis and Genevieve.’

  ‘Cheers, Brains,’ said the thickset man to the speaker. ‘Good job Mike here keeps up with current affairs, Louis Trevelyan. So, what the fuck do you want with us?’

  ‘Nothing, I was trying to get away from…’

  ‘You're a Sponsor – you've no place here!’

  ‘I'm not a Sponsor!’

  ‘You're Lysander Trevelyan's son; he's one of the worst of the lot. We're supposed to believe you're not a Sponsor? Cos we don't, do we, lads?’

  There was a murmur of agreement from the other men in the group.

  ‘Please, I seriously need to get back to Walworth. I'll just open these gates and…’

  ‘Bring your Sponsor cronies to give us hell no doubt. No way, Trevelyan; you're going to stay a while!’

  ‘No you don't, son,’ said an older man, grabbing Louis's hands as he tried desperately to unlock the gates. Severely outnumbered, Louis soon found himself overpowered and dragged from the yard into an old warehouse building.

  Theo gradually regained consciousness, and immediately wished he hadn't bothered. His back felt as though it was on fire, and the pain became even fiercer every time he tried to move. Theo had taken some beatings in his time, but he couldn't ever remember one quite this severe. Finally, gritting his teeth and hissing with pain, he managed to stagger to his feet and make his way into the bathroom. Knowing he had to cleanse his wounds bu
t dreading the inevitable discomfort, Theo turned the shower on to cool and stepped under the spray.

  Lord William St Benedict was alone in his office, regarding his computer monitor with an air of detached amusement as the security camera in his son's room relayed Theo's attempts to raise himself from the floor. When the young man finally made his unsteady way into the bathroom, Lord William clicked off the monitor and went up the stairs to his son's bedroom for the first time in years.

  Over time, Theo had become a master at hiding his feelings, but even he couldn't conceal his surprise at finding Lord William sitting on his bed when he emerged from his painful shower. Recovering quickly, Theo pulled on some shorts and turned to face his father.

  ‘Your Lordship,’ he said, ‘this is a surprise.’

  ‘I wouldn't put a top on if I were you, Theodore. Not until those wounds dry up a bit.’

  ‘Good advice, Your Lordship, but if that's all you've come to tell me then you could have saved yourself a journey. I'd already worked that out for myself.’

  In the security room on the ground floor, Stephen Dyer looked up at his monitor and was amazed to see Lord William sitting in Theo's room, apparently in conversation with the boy.

  ‘No, Theodore, that's not why I'm here.’

  Lying belly down on the bed, as far away as he could get from his father, Theo said, ‘What brings you to my humble abode then, Your Lordship?’

  ‘I'm your father, Theodore.’

  ‘If you say so, Your Lordship.’

  ‘ARE YOU INCAPABLE OF REPLYING WITHOUT INSOLENCE?’ roared Lord William, not wanting to admit to himself that he felt a grudging respect for Theo's nerve.

  ‘Not even an hour ago, I was nothing. Your words, Your Lordship. Now I'm your son. Forgive my confusion, but you've lost me somewhere along the way.’

  ‘Theodore, when you were born I was so happy. I wanted a son and heir so badly, someone to whom I could safely hand over the running of the Sponsorship Scheme when the day comes for me to step down. Instead, I got you.’

  ‘Hand over the running to Rosanna,’ said Theo. ‘She's probably got bigger balls than me…AAAARGH! Oh GOD! Shit!’

  Watching downstairs, Dyer was very relieved to see Lord William's hand slam down hard on Theo's wounded back. For a second there he'd been worried his boss was going soft.

  Still sitting on Theo's bed, Lord William was indifferent to the fact his son was once again in agony.

  ‘It doesn't have to be this way, Theodore. You only have to say the word; you can be my son again.’

  ‘Be one of your brainwashed minions, you mean,’ gasped Theo through gritted teeth. ‘I'd rather stay locked in this room until I die.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Lord William. Getting up from the bed, His Lordship crossed to the door of Theo's room before adding, ‘I understand you can eavesdrop on the conversations in the room below. Therefore you must know that Lysander Trevelyan's son is missing. I'm also led to understand that you and the Trevelyan boy were once friends. Now listen to me and listen well, Theodore. If I find that Louis Trevelyan has managed to make contact with you in any way at all, I will kill him – very slowly and very painfully. Furthermore, I will make you watch every excruciating second of it.’

  Meeting Theo's light-brown eyes, so similar to his own and yet so different, Lord William said, ‘Understand? Good!’

  After an hour and a half of waiting for Louis, dodging the Sponsored milling about every so often, Rick was getting frantic with worry. He'd seen Sarah's anxious face appear from the entrance to his block a couple of times, but he waved her back inside. It certainly wouldn't do for the Sponsored to start asking her awkward questions!

  One of the Sponsored was approaching Rick even as he was trying to decide whether or not to go upstairs again.

  ‘Hey, underclass, what you doin’ ’anging round out ’ere?’

  ‘Umm…’

  ‘You waitin’ for someone?’ Without giving Rick a chance to reply, the Sponsored man continued. ‘You seen a bloke? Early twenties, very pale skin, white hair?’

  ‘No, sorry,’ lied Rick quickly, thinking on his feet. ‘I was just waiting for my mate to bring me some…paint. Said he'd be here an hour ago; must have got held up…’

  ‘OK, underclass, I don't need your life story. Looks like he ain't gonna turn up, so I want you to get lost – now. We've got enough on our plate trying to find this bloke without you gettin’ in our way.’

  His mind made up by the command of the Sponsored man, Rick made his forlorn way back up to his home. Sarah's head shot up from the book she'd been reading to the children as soon as he opened the door, and Rick felt even more forlorn seeing his sister's hopeful expression fade as she saw that he was alone.

  ‘So sorry, Sarah, there's no sign. The Sponsored are giving me a hard time too, so I daren't stay out any longer.’

  Unable to hide her tears even for Jenny's sake, Sarah dropped her head and began to sob quietly. Jenny's own sobs weren't so subtle; realising that something bad had happened to her brother, she began to howl fit to raise the dead!

  ‘I…want…LOUIEEEEEE!’ she bawled. ‘LOUIEEEEEE!’

  ‘Jenny, be quiet!’ Rick shouted in alarm. ‘I know you're upset, but don't say Louis's name! Nasty people are trying to find him; we don't want them coming here!’

  Jenny stopped howling Louis's name, but continued to howl nonetheless. The adults looked inquiringly at Rick, who was just starting to tell them about his chat with the Sponsored when the phone rang.

  ‘Hello?’ said Lisa, answering the telephone and doing her best to hear over Jenny's howls. ‘Sorry, who?… Really?…Erm, what can we do for you?’

  Intrigued by Lisa's look of surprise Sarah hushed Jenny, then she and Rick desperately tried to listen in on the mysterious phone call.

  In his penthouse apartment, Lysander was talking to Lisa Lonsdale on the unregistered mobile phone he kept for emergencies such as the one in which he now found himself. He could understand the woman's disbelief at getting a call from one of the highest-ranking of the Sponsors, but it was frustrating having to spend a couple of minutes convincing her that, yes, it really was Lysander Trevelyan, and no, she wasn't in trouble.

  ‘Listen, Mrs Lonsdale, if you know where my children and my housekeeper are, you've got to warn them they're in big trouble. Please get them out of London immediately, especially Louis. Louis must not be found in London; it is of the utmost importance that Louis is not found in London…’

  ‘Mr Trevelyan, what's this all about?’

  ‘I really don't have time to explain. Please don't insult my intelligence by trying to tell me you don't know where my children are; I know the sound of my daughter crying. Just get them out of London any way you can, I'm begging you.’

  ‘You're begging me?’

  ‘Yes. Humility doesn't come naturally to me, but I'll make an exception in this instance.’

  Lysander waited, none too patiently, as Lisa consulted with the people around her. Finally, a familiar voice came on the line.

  ‘Mr Trevelyan,’ said Sarah, sounding like she'd been crying. ‘I'm here with Jenny. We've no idea where Louis is, though. He phoned a couple of hours ago to say he was south of the river but lost, and we've neither seen nor heard from him since.’

  ‘That's not good news, not good at all,’ said Lysander, trying not to imagine what awful fate would be awaiting Louis had the Sponsors got hold of him.

  ‘Sir, I'm going to get Jenny out of London. My brother and his wife are going to search for Louis, although our chances of doing either are a little limited at the moment by the amount of your people patrolling outside.’

  ‘Leave them to me! Now, here's a safe number on which you can contact me,’ said Lysander, giving his unregistered mobile number to Sarah and making sure she'd noted it down correctly. ‘Thank you for looking after my children, Sarah.’

  ‘It's a pleasure, Sir. Goodbye for now.’

  As Sarah replaced the receiver, Lysander did his
best to swallow his panic. This wasn't the time to turn into a screaming wreck! Years of acting cool while not always feeling so stood him in good stead, and he was soon able to make another call from his secret phone.

  ‘Dr Donatelli? I know this is unusual, but it's Lysander Trevelyan. Don't ask questions, there's no time to chat. Could you get my wife somewhere safe? She's in danger; she's attracted unwanted attention from Lord William, and it's not safe for her at home. I know it's a lot to ask…Thank you, Dr Donatelli.’

  Ending the call, Lysander wondered for a second whether he should have mentioned that Dexter Montfiore and his boyfriend were also in danger. He soon dismissed the idea, though; there were more pressing tasks. Picking up his official phone he pressed the first number on his speed dial.

  ‘WSB,’ said Lysander on hearing the familiar, arrogant voice of his boss. ‘I've been doing a lot of thinking since this morning. I really don't think my boy is going to be a nuisance, but I respect your desire for caution. The Scheme is of paramount importance, so I've been putting out a few feelers. The reports seem to suggest that the Louis is in Walthamstow.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Lord William, happy to have the self-assured Lysander back but not entirely trusting the other man's words. ‘We've got people watching all over London, and we've had reported sightings all over London. What makes you so sure?’

  ‘I know my son, WSB,’ replied Lysander easily. ‘I know how he'll be dressed. It's all very well telling your watchers to look out for an albino, but Louis does tend to cover up pretty well. I can describe his clothes, the way he walks, that kind of thing…’

  ‘Shame you didn't think to describe them earlier then!’ snapped Lord William

  ‘Shame you didn't ask!’ Lysander retorted. To his relief, Lord William laughed.