Tiberius Bound

By Andrew Goodman

Genetically engineered Daniel Henstock – codenamed Tiberius – dares to think that his life will return to normal. As far as he is concerned his enemy is dead, the shadowy organisation behind The Emperor Initiative is no longer searching for him and his relationship with Eleanor is blossoming. But on the evening of the High School Ball Daniel discovers that the peace and quiet he so desperately craves has been shattered.

Gregory Dryden is killing off his enemies one by one and Daniel is next on the list.

Once again Daniel must make life-changing decisions to not only save himself but also to protect those he cares for. However, Daniel discovers - too late - that real danger often lies much closer to home.

TIBERIUS BOUND is the second instalment a thrilling new series - The Emperor Initiative - that has been described as “Alex Rider meets Jason Bourne.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Goodman
• Release date: Mar 19, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310307782

Andrew Goodman

Andrew is not only a writer of novels but also short stories and short- & feature-length screenplays – he was a semi-finalist in the 2009 British Short Screenplay Competition and was commissioned to write a 90-minute feature in 2012 for SeeView Pictures.‘Tiberius Crowned’ is the final instalment of his three-part series: The Emperor Initiative, preceded by 'Tiberius Found' and 'Tiberius Bound'.2014 saw the release of his first “Oliver Drummond” supernatural adventure novels set in the 1920s: ‘Oliver Drummond and the Four Horsemen’, which sees schoolboy Oliver ‘Bulldog’ Drummond pitting his wits against occult groups, ghosts, murderers and traitors who want to gain control over the horseshoes from the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

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Tiberius Bound

- part two of The Emperor Initiative -

Smashwords Edition

Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, United Kingdom

Copyright © 2014 Andrew Goodman

The moral right of the author has been asserted

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by means, electronic or otherwise, without permission from the author.

All rights reserved

ISBN:

Smashwords Edition,

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

DEDICATION

I cannot express enough gratitude and thanks to my friends and family for their support of my writing endeavours. Writing is a solitary activity and often requires the acceptance of others that you will not always be available for social events. This book is dedicated to you all.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

About the Author

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Many thanks goes to:

Cressida Downing for her editorial expertise and great patience.

Angie at pro_ebookcovers for another excellent cover design.

And all of my Beta readers.

CHAPTER 1

The burnished steel doors of the lift opened and Margaret Coulson stepped out onto the concrete of the underground parking level reserved for top management. There wasn’t any of the harsh strip-lighting that illuminated the lower parking levels; here there were warm, soft up-lighters which gave the space a cosy, luxurious feel.

She shifted her Timothy Foxx handbag onto her left arm, fished out the infra-key to her Mercedes and made her way to the car. At this hour of the evening the only vehicles still present were those belonging to members of the Board; a late meeting was in progress but her presence, she had been informed, was not required.

The Board ran everything and its members were effectively considered as Gods. A position, and a privilege, that she hoped to emulate soon.

She was less than halfway to the car when the parking level went dark. She took two more faltering steps – the clack of her heels on the concrete somehow sounding louder – before coming to a halt. She muttered a curse and tapped the communicator in her ear.

‘Put me through to building maintenance,’ she snapped; her usual soft Welsh accent now abrupt.

There was a click as her receptionist transferred the call and Margaret tapped the leather sole of one shoe, waiting all of three seconds for a man’s voice to come to her.

‘Maintenance.’

‘This is Margaret Coulson. The lights have failed on the executive parking level.’

‘One moment.’ The man paused. ‘Are you sure? There’s no failure showing on our system.’

‘Of course I’m sure. I’m standing here right now. It’s pitch black down here.’

‘But all circuits are green –’

‘I don’t give a damn what colour your circuits are, the lights have gone out so you’d better get it sorted.’

‘Right.’ There was another short pause. ‘I don’t see how, though. There isn’t any fault.’

‘God give me strength. What’s your name?’

‘Er … Jenson.’

‘Right then er Jenson; listen to me and listen carefully. If you don’t do something about the lights down here, and do it in the next ten seconds, then I’ll personally come up to your office and strip the skin from your back.’

Another man’s voice drifted from the darkness. ‘Now that sounds like a good idea.’

Margaret froze. There was something frighteningly familiar about the voice. If it wasn’t for the lack of a sneering whine then she would have sworn it was ...

A pale light came on several metres away, by one of the wide support pillars and close to Margaret’s grey Mercedes, and a man wearing a maroon suit stepped into view. The suit had a high Chinese-style collar and was open to his chest, showing a pristine white shirt. A large bandage covered the back of the man’s bald head.

‘Gregory?’ Margaret’s lips creased in a fixed grin but her face paled.

‘It’s nice to know you haven’t forgotten me.’ He stepped closer to Margaret’s car and ran a finger lightly across one of the side panels.

‘I’ll see to the lights immediately, Mrs Coulson,’ Jenson said into her ear. ‘I’m sorry I questioned you.’

‘No,’ she replied quietly, holding her grin. ‘No, listen to me. Call Security. Tell them –’

Gregory Dryden pointed towards Margaret. He held a slim metal object pinched between thumb and forefinger, a small red light shining from its end.

‘– to get down here immediately. Jenson, did you hear me? Jenson?’

‘He’s gone, I’m afraid,’ Dryden said. ‘Really, Margaret? You’re going to have me thrown out? Going to have the bouncers rough me up a bit?’

Her smile intensified. ‘Not at all, don’t be silly. It’s wonderful to see you up and about. Only, you were so dreadfully injured; we all feared the worst.’

‘Did you, really? You were so fearful, you immediately took my position as Board liaison? Your concern so great that you even took my parking space?’

Margaret slowly brought her hands together and reached for the emergency alarm housed in her wristwatch. ‘Just temporary measures, I assure you; until you were back on your feet.’ A manicured nail depressed the hidden button.

‘Well, I’m back on them now.’ He took a step forward. ‘As you can see.’

‘Everyone will be so relieved.’ She edged back towards the lift doors. ‘When did they release you from hospital?’

‘They didn’t. I excused myself.’

‘Was that wise? I mean, you took such an awful blow to the head.’ She took another step backwards.

‘That I did.’ He reached up and pulled the blood-encrusted pad away. The wound seeped a small amount of yellow pus. ‘But that seems to have been resolved.’

‘Doctor Farrage said that it was a miracle you survived what happened at PathGen.’ She took another step.

‘I’m sure the good doctor said a great many things.’ Dryden gave a thin smile. ‘Whilst he was still able to talk, that is. I’m certain that he thought I couldn’t hear most of the things he muttered, and I know for a fact—’ he gave a thin grin ‘—that there were others who were convinced I couldn’t hear them at all.’

Margaret’s already ashen face went whiter and her smile faltered.

‘It’s a shame that he didn’t die in the fall, Doctor, but at least his injuries look bad enough for him not to survive,’ Dryden said. ‘Of course I wouldn’t dream of attempting your delightful accent, Margaret.’

‘I only meant … We all feared that, because of your injury, you might have been damaged. Mentally, I mean.’

‘No. No brain damage. In fact I’ve never felt better, couldn’t wait to get back to work.’ Dryden’s grin turned into a cold smile. ‘However, I’ve decided there should be a change of management. I’m going to take charge.’ His smile steeled. ‘Over everything.’

Margaret paused. ‘Security will be here any moment. The Board were informed an hour ago about your departure from the hospital. They know, Gregory. They’ve issued orders for you to be detained on sight, if you leave now then maybe –’

‘I’m fully aware of the Board’s … attitude. And there isn’t any one coming from Security. Are you really so naïve to think that if I have the ability to control the systems down here then I wouldn’t be able to block your little distress call? Oh, Margaret. To think that you consider yourself my equal.’

Margaret dropped her handbag and ran towards the lift. She slapped at the call button, breaking several nails, when a high-pitched noise filled the air behind her.

‘Stop.’ Dryden’s voice sounded distorted, metallic. ‘Turn around.’

Slowly Margaret let her hands fall back down and a spear of pain crossed her face.

‘Turn around.’

Margaret did as she was commanded, although her brain screamed at her not to do so. Through teary eyes she saw Dryden saunter towards her, holding out a small, black device that resembled a controller for a music system. A thin drip of blood seeped from her nose.

‘You have never been my equal,’ Dryden continued. ‘No one is; a fact that the Board will shortly discover. Once I’ve finished with you, that is.’

She gritted her teeth. ‘Please, don’t do this. I –’

‘Margaret, Margaret.’ Dryden stepped up next to her, close enough so that she would be able to feel his breath on her face. ‘In all the years you’ve known me, has compassion ever been a quality I’ve demonstrated?’

With the fingers of his free hand he unbuttoned the front of his jacket and another smile crept over his lips.

‘I’m afraid, Margaret, that this is going to hurt. A lot.’

CHAPTER 2

Daniel Henstock slipped his black dinner jacket on, smoothed it down and looked at himself in the hotel suit’s full-length mirror.

‘Bloody hell,’ he muttered. ‘I’m James Bond.’

A gentle knock came from the suite’s entrance door and Daniel made his way across the wide central room. To his right the floor-to-ceiling windows acted like mirrors and he glanced at his reflection, instinctively brushing a hand over one shoulder. The night was pitch black outside but the bright lights of Manhattan glittered like stars beyond the five-centimetre thick poly-glass.

Daniel opened the door to find Michael – the porter the hotel had assigned him – standing in the hallway.

‘Your limousine’s arrived, sir,’ he said.

‘Right. Guess I’d better go then. Just give me a second.’

Daniel stepped back into the room and picked up a clear, oblong box from a low table close to the door; it held a bright yellow flower on an elasticated wristband.

‘She’s a lucky girl, Mr Butler,’ Michael offered as they rode the elevator down to the ground floor.

‘You think?’

‘Absolutely. Wait ‘til she sees the limo.’

‘Is it alright?’

‘Alright?’ Michael laughed. ‘The last time I saw one that big was when the German president stayed here.’

‘But big’s good, yeah?’

‘Sure. Can’t go wrong with big.’

‘I mean it doesn’t look tacky or anything, does it?’

‘Tacky? Nah. I mean, no sir, it doesn’t.’ Michael leaned in closer. ‘From what I hear; girls remember the dress first, the limo second and their date last. No offence.’

‘None taken.’

Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to let Pickford talk him into using one of his cousin’s limousines. He should have played safe and hired a regular one. He suddenly felt nervous, which was saying a lot considering everything that he’d gone through in the last few weeks. Tonight was the evening of Eleanor’s High School Ball and he made a silent prayer asking that he’d remember all of the dances he’d practiced. And also that he wouldn’t step on his date’s feet.

Daniel let out a sigh and fidgeted with his bow tie.

‘Here, let me,’ Michael said. ‘You’re shaking so much you’ll undo it.’

‘Thanks.’

Michael straightened Daniel’s bow. ‘If I can offer you some advice; I’d tell you to relax. Stress and sweat don’t go hand-in-hand with top memory moments.’

‘Yeah,’ Daniel agreed, ‘but that’s easier said than done.’

The elevator came to a smooth halt and Daniel made his way across the foyer towards the panoramic entrance doors. The doors glided open as he approached and, as he stepped out into the night air, the concierge touched the brim of his tall hat, wishing him a good evening.

And then Daniel spotted the limo. ‘Oh. My. God.’

It was midnight black, about the length of five normal cars and was so wide it spilled out halfway into the next lane. A large, heavily-built man wearing a dark blue uniform and a peaked hat stood holding one of the rear doors open.

‘Luca!’ Daniel almost ran over to him. ‘What’s going on? You’re my driver?’

‘Yeah. The boss thought it’d be good idea.’

Daniel clapped the large man on the shoulder. ‘I think it’s great idea.’

‘Nice place this.’ Luca nodded towards the hotel then leaned in closer to Daniel’s ear and lowered his voice. ‘So, what name are you using?’

‘Tonight,’ he replied with a smile, ‘I’m Thomas Butler.’

‘Nice,’ Luca nodded. ‘Sounds classy.’

‘That’s what I was hoping for. Look, I’m not sure if Pickford mentioned but we need to collect Eleanor –’

Luca held up one of his ham-sized hands, stopping Daniel, ‘All sorted, Mr Butler. I got her address plugged into the SatNav; it’ll be no problem.’

Daniel’s limousine drew to a slow halt outside Eleanor’s home in Bensonhurst, and effectively blocked the road. He went to open the door but was stopped by a gruff nuh-uh from Luca.

‘I gots two jobs to do,’ he said as he eyed Daniel in the rear-view mirror, ‘driving and opening doors. You wanna take half my workload?’

‘No,’ Daniel replied, smiling. ‘Sorry. Force of habit.’

‘Good.’

Luca pressed a small button on the steering wheel and the door next to him glided gracefully open. He then took the best part of a minute shifting his large frame out of the driver’s seat and into the night air.

‘See,’ he huffed, opening Daniel’s door. ‘There’s an order to things.’

‘I’ll only be a minute,’ Daniel said as he stepped out.

‘Take as long as you need. Tonight you’re the boss.’

‘Right. Well, here goes.’ He buttoned up his jacket and made his way towards Eleanor’s door, trying as hard as he could to mask his nerves.

A sedan came to halt a few metres behind the limo, and its lights flashed. After waiting a couple of seconds without any response the driver sounded his horn twice.

‘What?’ Luca yelled, holding his hands out palms up. ‘I’m working here.’

The front door of number twenty-two seventeen opened before Daniel had the chance to ring the bell, and Eleanor’s mother stood in the doorway.

‘Mrs Turner,’ Daniel said. ‘Good evening.’

‘How many times do I have to tell you, Robert? You must call me Marie. Come inside, come inside. Eleanor will be down in a moment. You look very grown up in your suit,’ she said as Daniel moved into the hallway. ‘Very debonair.’

‘Thanks. I think my collar’s a bit tight though.’

‘It looks fine to me,’ Marie said with a knowing smile. ‘I’ll go and tell Eleanor you’re here. Maybe you’d like to wait in the lounge?’

‘Sure. Thanks.’

Daniel took a deep breath and, deciding against sitting down, paced slowly around the small room instead. He passed the corsage box from hand to hand but it did little to settle his nerves. The sound of more car horns blared from outside and he pulled back one of the curtains. Luca was in toe-to-toe discussions with the sedan driver – a man almost as large as the Italian – and even behind the window he could hear their raised voices.

‘I don’t know,’ a girl’s voice said behind him, ‘you’ve been here only a couple of minutes and already the neighbourhood’s going downhill.’

Daniel turned and felt his breath catch in his throat.

Eleanor stood in the doorway, wearing a long pale-lemon dress that wouldn’t have looked out of place at Paris fashion week. It was elegant without being over-stated and transformed the girl into a woman. Daniel simply stared at her, his mouth slightly open.

‘Well?’ she asked and turned a slow circle. ‘Say something. What do you think?’

‘You’re … you’re beautiful.’

‘Is the right answer.’

‘No, I mean, really. You’re beautiful.’

She blushed and dimples creased her cheeks. She moved over and kissed him. ‘Not sure that I’ll ever get bored with you saying that.’

‘It’s the truth. Here …’ Daniel opened the corsage box and held it out to her. ‘This is for you.’

‘Put it on for me?’

Eleanor held out her left hand and Daniel, his hands shaking, lifted the flower from the box and slipped the band around her wrist. The colour of the flower matched perfectly with the detail of her dress.

‘Mon dieu,’ Marie said looking at them from the hallway. Tears fell down her face and her hands were pressed to her chest. ‘What a couple you make. Let me take a picture of you both.’ She held up her phone. ‘Magnifique.’

Now it was Daniel’s turn to blush. ‘It sounds like the car’s causing a little trouble outside so …’ He turned to Eleanor. ‘Shall we?’

‘Sure. Just need to grab my coat.’

‘Have a wonderful evening you two,’ Marie said as she followed them to the door. ‘And please be careful.’

‘We will, mama,’ Eleanor replied. ‘You too.’

She kissed her mother on both cheeks and, before Daniel could stop her, Marie grabbed his face and gave two quick kisses on either side.

‘I think she likes you,’ Eleanor said as they made their way down the steps to the sidewalk.

‘You think?’

‘She was going to stay home and wait up for us to come back but I persuaded her to go out for a meal with Aunt Helene. I told her that we wouldn’t be back early, either way.’ She gave Daniel a small sideways glance. ‘I even suggested that I might stay over at your hotel tonight ...’

‘Really? Wow. I mean … Really?’

‘Maybe. It’s got separate bedrooms, right?’ Eleanor halted as she saw the limousine. ‘My God, Daniel. Wouldn’t it have been easier to get an aircraft carrier?’

‘Erm, yeah,’ he shrugged. ‘Sorry. Pickford’s idea.’

Luca, by this time, had taken his jacket off and was squaring up to the sedan driver; the air full of colourful insults and threats.

‘Luca!’ Daniel called. ‘We’re ready.’

The large man glanced over one shoulder and his entire body language changed – gone was the giant ready to have a fist-fight; the kitten had returned. He turned away from the angry driver and picked up his jacket.

‘Hey!’ the sedan driver spat. ‘Is that it? You just gonna walk away from me like a girl?’

Luca turned back and jerked a thumb towards Daniel and Eleanor. ‘They’re ready,’ he replied. He pulled his jacket on and squeezed the peaked hat back into place. ‘Lucky for you I gotta go back to work.’

He made his way around the car and opened the door for Eleanor. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, miss,’ he offered as she stepped inside the limo, ‘I don’t think I’ve seen anyone looking so pretty in a long time.’

‘That’s very kind. Thank you.’

‘Course,’ he added, looking at Daniel, ‘you’re okay too.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, climbing in next to Eleanor.

Luca shrugged his shoulders. ‘Don’t mention it.’

‘Hey! Don’t you turn your back on me,’ the sedan driver shouted, advancing on Luca. ‘What do you mean it’s lucky for me? Hey, fat guy! I’m talkin’ to you. Hey, pussy!’

‘Excuse me,’ Luca said to Daniel as he closed the door. He calmly turned to face the man. ‘What did you just say?’

‘I said I was talkin’ to you, you puss—’

Luca’s right fist snapped out as fast as a snake strike. It collided, hard and solid, with the driver’s jaw. The man let out a brief cry of surprised pain – his eyes widened and he knees buckled before he crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.

‘Yeah,’ Luca muttered. ‘Thought that’s what you said.’

Luca walked back to the driver’s door and once more squeezed himself onto the seat. ‘Sorry ‘bout that,’ he muttered into the rear-view mirror, ‘but that guy had a real problem.’

CHAPTER 3

‘We’ve got a real problem.’ William Cross adjusted his telephone mouthpiece and limped towards the windows that looked out across the dark London cityscape. A thin plaster cast encased his left leg from ankle to thigh.

‘Go ahead.’ Miles Brennan tried to hide the irritation in his voice.

‘It’s about Gregory Dryden.’ Brennan’s silence spoke volumes. ‘Yeah, thought that’d get your attention.’

‘What about him?’ Brennan’s voice was flat. ‘He’s ancient history.’

‘Yeah, not so much. It seems that little incident at PathGen wasn’t so fatal for him, after all.’

‘Impossible.’

‘Once upon a time they said that about the link between smoking and cancer and guess what…? Long story short; Dryden was still alive by the time the initial response team arrived and was taken to a medical facility operated by the Board. They hooked him up to machines where he was unconscious for over two weeks.’

‘I thought you said this would be the short story.’

‘Well excuse me for trying to be thorough. Can I continue?’

‘Just tell me what happened.’

‘Thank you. At twenty-one forty-six hours tonight the nursing staff noticed that Dryden’s room was empty and ten minutes later they found the doctor who’d been overseeing his recovery. By all accounts he’d been eviscerated. He’d also had his tongue removed.’

‘And they think Dryden did that?’

‘Seems so.’

‘So you’re just telling me this now? Jesus, Bill –’

‘Hey! I only intercepted the flash a minute ago, okay? However, that’s not all. It would also appear that the good Mr Dryden didn’t take too well to having his life’s work stripped away. Margaret Coulson was found by security staff at Board headquarters twenty minutes ago. She was propped up against one of the walls in the parking level and she’d been …’

‘What? She’d been what?’

‘As close as they can tell,’ Cross continued, ‘she’d been dehydrated. All they found was a dried-out husk.’

‘What? How is