CHAPTER 1
TWO WEEKS EARLIER
NERO STRODE DOWN THE STREET TOWARD THE OPERA HOUSE. HE DID NOT LIKE LEAVING THE SCHOOL UNATTENDED AND WAS EVEN LESS FOND OF THE REGULAR MEETINGS OF G.L.O.V.E.'S RULING COUNCIL, BUT HE UNDERSTOOD THAT THEY WERE A NECESSARY EVIL. NUMBER ONE HAD ISSUED HIS USUAL INVITATION TO THE WORLD'S ELITE VILLAINS FOR ONE OF THEIR SEMIREGULAR COUNCILS, AND HE KNEW THAT IT COULD BE A FATAL MISTAKE TO NOT ATTEND WITHOUT A SPECTACULARLY GOOD REASON. AS HE APPROACHED THE HUGE BUILDING, HE TURNED AWAY FROM THE MAIN ENTRANCE AND HEADED TOWARD A NARROW ALLEY THAT LED DOWN ONE SIDE. HE NOTED WITH AMUSEMENT THAT EVEN THE BACK ALLEYS OF VIENNA WERE SCRUPULOUSLY MAINTAINED, AS HE HEADED TOWARD THE THEATER'S STAGE DOOR.
The man behind the desk just inside the door looked up from his morning newspaper as Nero entered.
"I'm sorry, sir, but only performers and production staff are allowed beyond this point," the elderly doorman said, one hand reaching beneath the desk.
"That's quite all right," Nero replied, noting the subtle change in the man's posture. "I'm here for the audition."
"Audition, sir?" the doorman replied, his eyes narrowing.
"Yes, I believe that the auditions for the new production of Faust are taking place today, and I would hate to miss them."
The doorman's hand came back out from under the desk as his previously guarded expression broke into a slight smile.
"Of course, sir, the rest of the performers are already here. If you would just follow me." The doorman rose to his feet and gestured for Nero to follow him along the corridor and into the gloomy expanse of the backstage area. Nero noted with interest the props and scenery that were crammed into every nook and cranny, relics of performances past.
The old man continued to lead him through the twisting maze of discarded sets, until eventually he stopped in front of a dusty scenery flat painted with a depiction of a rusty iron portcullis. He slid the canvas-covered board to one side to reveal a solid-looking wooden door in the wall behind. He unlocked the door and stood aside.
"There you are, sir; they're waiting for you just inside," he said.
Nero opened the door and entered a small, steel-lined elevator with no visible controls. The door shut behind him, and a soft computerized voice filled the room.
"Please remain stationary while identity confirmation takes place," the voice instructed. There was a brief flash of bright white light, and Nero had to blink hard to clear the spots that were suddenly swimming in his field of vision.
"Retinal scan complete; welcome, Dr. Nero," the voice continued, and Nero felt the elevator begin to descend.
Nero often found himself wondering on these occasions just how many of these secret facilities G.L.O.V.E. maintained around the world. He knew that he had never attended a council meeting in the same location twice. He wondered if perhaps they were used just a single time and then demolished. Certainly it would be absurdly wasteful to use such a facility only once, but money was one thing that G.L.O.V.E. had never been short of.
The elevator doors slid silently open, and Nero stepped into a steel-lined corridor, which led to a large pair of frosted-glass doors a short distance ahead. Engraved in the glass was the fist-and-shattered-globe symbol of G.L.O.V.E., the Global League of Villainous Enterprises.
Nero walked down the corridor, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the brushed-metal walls. The glass doors hissed apart to admit him as he approached, and suddenly he could hear several familiar voices engaged in animated conversation. One voice rose above the others.
"...for the last time. I told him that I did not tolerate incompetence in my organization and had him thrown out. Unfortunately, we were at thirty thousand feet at the time."
Nero smiled as he heard the deep, Russian-accented voice and the booming laugh that followed. It belonged to one of his oldest friends, if there was such a thing in the treacherous world the people in this room inhabited. As he entered the room, several familiar faces turned in his direction.
"Nero! We were beginning to think you were not coming." The voice belonged to Gregori Leonov, one of the longest-surviving members of G.L.O.V.E.'s ruling council, having served Number One loyally almost since the creation of the organization. Physically he was a mountain of a man, his gray hair shaved close to his rounded skull. He strode toward Nero and gripped him firmly by the shoulders before kissing him on both cheeks.
"How are you, my friend? It has been too long. I suppose those little demons-in-training are keeping you busy, yes?"
"It is good to see you, too, Gregori," Nero replied, smiling. "And yes, H.I.V.E. is still keeping me very busy."
"Of course it is," Gregori said, grinning. "You are a more patient man than I, Max; I think I would have been driven mad by those children long ago. But after seeing how my son has changed since he returned from your school, I am thinking that you must be a miracle worker, no?"
"Yuri was one of my best pupils, Gregori; you know that." In fact Gregori's son had been one of Nero's tougher educational challenges. He had been ceaselessly hostile when he first arrived at H.I.V.E., refusing to accept that he was going to have to remain at the school until his education was complete. Nero had immediately recognized the signs of a boy who had become used to getting whatever he wanted from an early age, and that it would be hard work turning him into a suitable heir for one of his oldest friends and one of the most powerful men in G.L.O.V.E. The challenge had been to channel that rebellious anger in better, more productive directions without eliminating it altogether. H.I.V.E., after all, was not in the business of producing model citizens.
"You are too kind, Max. He was a monster when he was sent to H.I.V.E., but now he is one of my most trusted and capable lieutenants. Why, just last week he led a highly profitable raid on a gold train in the motherland. There were no casualties; the team got away clean, and several of the more experienced men on the team said it was all down to his leadership. Like I say, a miracle, and now I have enough money to buy one of those English football teams that it seems every member of G.L.O.V.E. owns these days." Gregori grinned.
"I'm glad that you're pleased with the results," Nero replied with a smile. It was always nice to hear of the successful exploits of former pupils.
Suddenly a soft but insistent beeping came from the console at the center of the conference table, and the assembled master villains started to take their seats. Nero was pleased to see that so many of the dozen council members who had attended the last meeting were also present here today. It was an unfortunate consequence of their chosen line of work that it was not unusual for a council member to be suddenly replaced by a new and often unfamiliar face at these meetings. Some had been captured and incarcerated, some had been killed in the line of duty, some had fallen victim to their own doomsday devices, and some had been more actively replaced by the new attendees. The most unfortunate ones were those who had displeased Number One, the leader of G.L.O.V.E., and their fates were best left unimagined.
There was one member of the council, however, who Nero was not pleased to see, a man who was becoming an increasingly irritating thorn in his side. He sat at the opposite side of the table from Nero, his expression unreadable due to the fact that his face was concealed by a smooth oval mask of flawless black glass. His name was Cypher, and over the past years he seemed to have made it his business to attempt to undermine the credibility of both H.I.V.E. and Nero himself. It was unusual for Number One to allow one of his senior commanders to conceal his identity from the other members of the council, but in Cypher's case he appeared to be prepared to make an exception. That was probably due in a large part to the fact that Cypher's record since joining G.L.O.V.E. had been so exemplary. He was a technical genius, and his elaborate and cunning schemes had netted G.L.O.V.E. enormous returns, both in money and power. Indeed, many now saw him as the brightest rising star on the council. Nero, however, disliked not being able to look into the man's eyes. There was something unnerving about seeing only the distorted reflection of your own face in that black mirrored glass. Cypher would doubtless have much to say about the recent events at the school.
The heads of all of the council members turned as one as a large screen descended from the ceiling at the head of the table. It flickered into life, and as usual the silhouetted figure of Number One appeared on the screen. There were no distinguishable features to the man, just the enigmatic, shadowy figure to whom all of the assembled villains had sworn their unswerving loyalty.
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. I am glad to see that you were all able to make it," Number One said, his voice betraying no hint of a discernable accent. He had never attended one of these meetings in person, and there was no reason to have suspected that this would be the first time.
"I have studied all of your preliminary status reports, and I am pleased to say that I have been satisfied with your overall level of performance since our last meeting," he continued. "There have been a couple of unfortunate incidents, but nothing that would jeopardize the ongoing survival of the organization."
Nero had no doubt that the near destruction of H.I.V.E. by the rampaging plant monster the Darkdoom boy had created was one of these "unfortunate incidents," and he was not keen to discuss the events further at this meeting if he could avoid it. It was not wise to show any sign of weakness to the men and women in this room, just as it was never wise to be the slowest antelope when lions were hunting.
"I have also reviewed your preliminary prop...
--This text refers to the
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