‘Dr Ulacco,’ he said softly. ‘Captain Schofield has nothing but the highest regard for you and your skills as a therapist. Being President is a pretty stressful job and I’ve been looking for someone to talk to about it, a therapist of sorts. Someone who’ll be tough but fair, yet also discreet. And I hear you now have a substantial amount of security clearance; this would only require a few more background checks. You up for it?’
For the first time since he had met her, Schofield saw the unflappable Dr Ulacco go wide-eyed with shock.
Once the medal ceremony was over, the President had the Oval Office cleared of everyone but Schofield.
‘I have someone here to talk with you, Captain,’ the President said. He keyed an intercom. ‘Mary, please send in the ambassador.’
A side door opened and into the Oval Office walked three figures: one of whom Schofield had never seen before and two that he had.
The man he didn’t know was a tall regal-looking fellow with swept-back silver hair, a long aquiline nose and an imperious bearing; he wore an obviously expensive suit.
The other two—also wearing civilian clothes—were Veronique Champion and Baba. Champion looked fit and svelte in a tailored skirt-suit and heels. She wore perfectly applied make-up and her black hair hung down to her shoulders, having been cut for the occasion. For his part, Baba had trimmed his beard a little but he looked very uncomfortable in a suit. He still wore one arm in a sling.
‘Captain Schofield,’ the President said, ‘may I introduce to you the French Ambassador to the United States, Monsieur Philippe de Crespigny.’
Schofield noticed that the President had used the formal method of introduction; only when someone did that, they usually introduced the more senior person to the more junior person. For the President to name Schofield first was to suggest that in this room, he ranked higher than the French ambassador. Schofield was sure the ambassador didn’t miss that either.
‘Monsieur.’ The French ambassador bowed as he shook Schofield’s hand. ‘I believe you know Major Champion and Master Sergeant Huguenot.’
Schofield nodded to Champion and Baba. ‘I do. It’s good to see them again and looking so well.’
The President said, ‘The ambassador has a message to deliver to you, Captain, from his President.’
The ambassador stood a little taller. ‘Captain Schofield,’ he said stiffly, formally, ‘the Republic of France sends its sincere thanks to you. Major Champion and Master Sergeant Huguenot have informed the President of France that your actions in the field, in addition to saving several other nations, saved France. It is my duty to inform you that the President has thus rescinded the standing bounty on your head. The Republic of France no longer has a grievance with you, Captain Schofield.’
Schofield’s mouth fell open.
Champion smiled at him. Baba grinned.
And the President of the United States, in particular, looked very, very pleased.
A short buffet of cakes and coffee followed in the Roosevelt Room, as usually happened after a presidential audience.
Zack and Emma were showing the President Bertie’s many features while Champion chatted with Brooke Ulacco.
Mother’s husband, Ralph, was also there in his best suit and a truly awful tie, yet Mother looped her arm firmly through his as they chatted amiably with Baba and Schofield.
‘So, Scarecrow,’ Mother said. ‘Did they ever find that CIA asshole, Calderon, the “Lord of Anarchy”?’
Schofield shook his head. ‘No, but I’m guessing that one day I’ll be called into a high-level meeting and at that meeting will be a very senior CIA asshole who will tell me that Marius Calderon has been found, dead.’
‘Only he won’t be dead . . .’ Mother said.
‘No. Calderon is one of the CIA’s best and brightest. He formulated that plan for Dragon Island nearly thirty years ago and it worked perfectly—everything went as he foresaw it, except for one variable: us. If we hadn’t been up there, all of China and most of the northern hemisphere would be in ashes right now. No, I wouldn’t be surprised if Marius Calderon is already back in the States, back at Langley with a new face and a new name, but probably the same office.’
A few minutes later, the President quietly tapped Schofield on the shoulder. ‘Captain, a word, please.’ He guided him out of the room.
They went downstairs to the Situation Room, where some intelligence people waited, including the directors of the DIA and CIA.
‘Captain,’ the President said, ‘I want you to hear this right from the source. Director.’
The Director of the Central Intelligence Agency stepped forward, looking suitably grim. Despite himself, he looked Schofield up and down before he spoke, as if assessing the man who had ruined a long-laid CIA plan.
‘Mr President. Captain Schofield. We finally found Marius Calderon. He’s dead. Two weeks ago, his submersible was found by a Norwegian fishing trawler, drifting in the Arctic Ocean. The submersible’s oxygen supply had malfunctioned sometime after Calderon went under. He suffocated.’
Schofield looked the CIA director square in the eye.
‘Thank you, Director. I never expected to hear that.’
Schofield returned to the soiree in the Roosevelt Room.
He was met at the door by Mother and Brooke Ulacco.
‘Hey, Scarecrow, we were just talking with Sexy French Chick.’ Mother jerked her chin over at Champion. ‘Guess what? Do you know what renard means in English?’
‘No.’
‘Renard,’ Mother said slowly, ‘is French for fox.’
Schofield took this in. ‘Is that so?’
‘Uh-huh. I think there might be something in that,’ Mother said. ‘You know what else, she asked if you might be open to joining her for a drink after this.’
Schofield glanced over at Champion—and caught her looking at him before she turned quickly away.
He turned to Ulacco. ‘Thoughts?’
Brooke Ulacco shrugged. ‘It was always going to take a formidable woman to light a spark in you again. And that woman is pretty damn formidable. I say, go for it. A date would be good for you. Mother?’
‘I approve,’ Mother said softly as she gave Schofield a peck on the cheek. ‘And I think the old Fox would, too.’
Schofield gazed at Veronique Champion—Renard, Fox—for a long moment, thinking about it.
And then he walked over to join her.
Later that night, Schofield and Champion could be seen in an all-night coffee shop a few blocks from the White House, talking, smiling and, occasionally, laughing.
They talked long into the night.
It was late, after two a.m., when Schofield returned to his temporary barracks apartment at the Marine Corps complex in Arlington.
There was something on his bed.
On the pillow.
A pair of battered wraparound reflective glasses, with an A-in-a-circle etched into them.
His glasses, last seen in the possession of Marius Calderon.
There was nothing else with them. No note. Nothing.
Scarecrow glanced uneasily around the apartment. Then he picked up the glasses and gazed at them long and hard.
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I’d like to send out my thanks to all the usual suspects who make my books possible.
To my wife, Natalie, who was, once again, the first to cast her eyes over the manuscript, and thus the first to express her horror at the rat scene.
To Cate Paterson at Pan Macmillan, thank you for all of your support over the last fourteen years. I still think it’s pretty fantastic that you discovered me by finding Contest in a bookstore. And to Jon Wood at Orion in the UK, who was a fan long before he became my UK publisher.
To Catherine Day, my erstwhile editor, who keeps me honest.
To Tracey Cheetham in publicity and Jane Hayes in marketing for the many phone calls they make and take on my behalf and for being the ‘back office’ that organises my books t
ours; and to all the sales reps for the many hours they spend on the road between bookstores: thank you for all your hard work.
To my good friends in the military both in Australia and the US, you know who you are. Thank you for all the technical advice. Any mistakes—and fictitious weapons—are mine and mine alone, and were made over their objections. I’d also like to send a special shout-out to everyone at the Australian Army’s incredible 2nd Commando Regiment. Every Australian should know that the adjective ‘elite’ does not do our elite commandos justice; trust me, when you see them in action, their cool professionalism makes you feel very, very proud.
To the good folk at Azur resort in Queenstown, New Zealand. After being stranded in Singapore by that volcanic ash cloud in 2010, Natalie and I went to Queenstown and it was there that I sat down and, in the glorious peace of one of Azur’s lovely cabins, mapped out the story of Scarecrow and the Army of Thieves. The little collection of National Geographic magazines in their library was a great research tool, too, with excellent issues about both the Arctic and the old Soviet Union.
To those wonderful people who, in exchange for making the winning bids at charity auctions in aid of some of my favourite causes, got characters in this book named after them. They include: Peter and Lenore Grzonkowski who, a few years ago, generously paid to have the names of three teenagers, Emma Dawson, Brooke Ulacco and Bryce Ulacco in this book (sorry about the wait!); Marianne and Mike Retter (they got a fun character for their donation); Linda Duncombe who bought the name William Thompson (the Kid); and Don and Margaret Harris: their donation allowed Don to become the National Security Advisor. Don, your character may have survived this book, but mark my words, if you return in another one, you will most assuredly die a gruesome death! I promise! Let me also mention the fine charitable work of my good friend Gary ‘Smokey’ Dawson OAM, at whose Bullant Charity Challenge Gala Dinner most of the above character names were auctioned. Gary is a fine Australian who has raised millions of dollars for charity. If you want a character named after you, get a ticket to that gala, which is usually held in November.
To my Wednesday golfing buddies, the WAGS, for keeping me sociable. They have been calling me ‘Murderer’ ever since I killed one of them on page 1 of The Six Sacred Stones.
Lastly and most importantly, my sincere thanks to all of my fans out there: to those who enjoy my books on international flights or in their homes, or who come to my book signings and speeches just to say ‘Hi, I enjoy your books.’ (Sometimes people hurry past the signing table and call that out from a distance!)
I make no bones about the fact that I write to entertain. That is exactly what I do. And I firmly believe that reading for enjoyment has value in our world. So thank you just for enjoying my stuff.
Matthew Reilly
Sydney, Australia
October 2011
AN INTERVIEW WITH MATTHEW REILLY
WRITING SCARECROW AND THE ARMY OF THIEVES
SPOILER WARNING!
[WARNING—This interview contains SPOILERS from Scarecrow and the Army of Thieves. Be careful if you are reading it before you read the book!]
Matthew, your last three novels have featured Jack West Jr. What made you return to Shane Schofield, a.k.a. Scarecrow, whom—apart from his special mission in Hell Island—we haven’t seen since 2003’s Scarecrow?
When I was on tour with The Five Greatest Warriors, fans would always ask me, ‘When are we going to see a new Scarecrow novel?’ As I said to them back then, I have always wanted to return to Schofield, but I wanted to wait for two things: first, for the world to change, and second, I wanted to wait until I was ready to write about him again.
Let me backtrack a little. I really enjoyed writing Scarecrow. Really enjoyed it. With that book, I wanted to take the concept of the thriller novel to the ultimate extreme: to extremes of pace, action, thrills and sheer emotional rawness. Scarecrow was supposed to be an ultra-intense thriller. It was intense to read (yes, I received hate mail for the guillotine scene) and it was intense to write.
It was partly because of that intensity that I wrote the Jack West series, Seven Ancient Wonders, The Six Sacred Stones and The Five Greatest Warriors. They are not as severe as the Scarecrow novels (Schofield’s world is both harder and meaner than the one Jack West inhabits) and thus are very different to write. I like to think the Jack West books are more ‘adventure’ than ‘thriller’, and I will often recommend them to a parent looking for reading material for a younger teenager.
The other reason is that after September 11, 2001, the world changed, with America getting embroiled in wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and I didn’t want to set a Schofield novel in either of those two countries (although he did visit Afghanistan briefly in Scarecrow). The Jack West books, however, are about the small countries of the world standing up to the big ones, and post-9/11, this kind of story reflected how I perceived the world from 2001 to 2008. (The Jack West books also allow me to write about the mysteries of history, a topic that I love but which doesn’t quite fit in with Scarecrow’s world.)
But then came the extraordinary rise of China, exemplified by the Beijing Olympics in 2008 and China’s continued economic rise in the years since. This was the change I was waiting for. As you now know, having read the book, the rise of China is the basis for Calderon’s decades-long plan in Scarecrow and the Army of Thieves. So, I waited for the world to change and finally it did, providing me with a story I could put Shane Schofield in.
And so, after writing three Jack West books, I found myself thinking about Scarecrow again. And the main thing I thought was, How on Earth would he pull himself back together after the horrific death of Libby Gant in Scarecrow? This would be one of the key plotlines in Scarecrow and the Army of Thieves.
On that topic, did you spend more time thinking about his state of mind for this book?
I really did. In fact, I went even further than that. I thought, Who would be the worst possible villain he could face, given that he is probably still traumatised in some way? My answer: a villain who is an expert in psychological warfare and torture. A key event in Scarecrow and the Army of Thieves was always going to be the torture scene, where I hope readers will really worry that Marius Calderon has broken Scarecrow’s mind.
The notion of how Scarecrow fortified his mind—the idea of a loci of memory—was integral to this. I asked myself, How do you defeat an expert in the art of breaking people’s minds? My answer: you create a virtual vault in your mind. The flow-on question was even more interesting: by creating such a vault with a purging option, is it possible that you might forget loved ones?
I thought these were all good character issues that fans of Shane Schofield would really like to see explored. If I could weave them into a full-tilt, rampaging, action-packed plot, then I just might have something.
Speaking of the plot, how did you come up with the idea of the atmospheric weapon at the heart of the story?
Given the kind of novel that I write, I am always, well, looking for new ways to destroy the world. (If the CIA is tracking my Google searches, I am in so much trouble!)
I read a lot of non-fiction and, over the years, I have read a bit about the inventor Nikola Tesla. He was an absolutely brilliant man. (For a brief look at Tesla, check out the movie The Prestige, in which David Bowie plays him very well; it’s not a bad movie either). When I first came across the quote from Tesla in which he fears that he might ignite the atmosphere with his experiments—yes, it’s a real quote—my storytelling brain started ticking: Hmmm, ignite the atmosphere, you say . . .
I had actually intended to use the atmospheric device as an ancient weapon in a Jack West novel, but then in 2010 I got stranded in Singapore thanks to that volcanic ash cloud from Iceland that swept across Europe. Looking at the satellite images of the ash cloud, I thought of Tesla and asked myself, What if that ash cloud were flammable? And, Who would build a weapon that could ignite the northern hemisphere using such a cloud?
Of course,
the answer was obvious. The Soviet Union would! And the good thing about the Soviets is that when they did something, they did it big. The story quickly followed: what if there were a long-abandoned Soviet base up in the Arctic that housed this terrible weapon and a band of terrorists decided to seize the base and set it off?
Tell us about the origin of the Army of Thieves?
Quite simply, I didn’t want my bad guys to be just a standard group of terrorists. I don’t like that kind of story. It’s also been done many times before.
I want twists, I want intrigue, I want deeper conspiracies. I thought the story would be a lot more interesting if this horribly violent yet very capable terrorist group might actually be part of a complex plan that originated nearly three decades ago.
I should also add that I wanted the Army of Thieves to be really, really nasty.
Good villains are hard to find. And when I decided to bring Scarecrow back in a new novel,* I wanted him to go up against totally impossible odds: a large, brutal and ruthless terrorist army. Even more, I wanted him to go up against this army with a group of civilians and not his usual band of battle-hardened Marines. Worse still, Scarecrow himself would be on an emotional razor’s edge when it all happened. All this is why Scarecrow and the Army of Thieves is rather visceral and, at times, quite violent; indeed, it is perhaps the most visceral and violent of all my books. I thought Scarecrow was pretty tough, but I think Thieves is tougher—it does, after all, have the torture scene, including the very gruesome rat torture.
But in the end, villains must be feared. Death must be feared. And death at the hands of these villains, this Army of Thieves, was always going to be really, really scary.
(*A quick note: I don’t consider Hell Island to be a full novel, and I think my fans think the same way. For the record, in my mind Scarecrow and the Army of Thieves follows on directly from Scarecrow. As far as Hell Island is concerned, even though it is a very cool and action-packed Scarecrow story, it was written as part of a special government-sponsored project in Australia, and did not get a release in the rest of the world. So, to me, Hell Island exists as a nice side adventure for Scarecrow and Mother, and a great short book for new readers who might wish to try my work. That said, just for the fans, I did mention the plot of Hell Island in passing in Scarecrow and the Army of Thieves. And for the eagle-eyed among you, Hell Island does provide the only crossover character between the Scarecrow and Jack West universes: the Marine named Astro.)