Lover

by Valerie J. Long

I wandered across to the adjacent room. Here, the other three Japanese were busy reading the gems. So far, they weren’t yet able to decrypt the message. Well, if they had ordered me to procure the reader…

  Unfortunately, their work prevented me from simply taking the pebbles. Moreover, it didn’t look as if they’d be in for a break soon. Stale tea and cold chop suey in cardboard boxes told a message as clear as their hectic and nervous way of working. After a short while, I also understood the reason—they wanted to achieve a breakthrough before the messenger arrived who’d take the gems to Tokyo with him.

  Thus I wasn’t left with much time either. I needed a distraction.

  Oh yes!

  Chapter Forty-Five

  My reprogramming let the fusion reactor’s envelope field pulsate, which caused its self control to trigger an alarm, especially as these pulsations also created overshoots and ringing in the created current. This in turn had a fatal effect on the fed force field—several centimeters of reinforced concrete were simply pulverized before the man at the panel could hit the emergency stop.

  The scientists came over and assailed him with questions. Meanwhile, I could quietly collect the pebbles and quickly leave through the now unsecured hallway, before someone would put a guard there. Upstairs on the ground floor, I now only had to wait until I could leave through the door together with an ordinary consulate visitor. It was understandable that the Japanese were eager to empty their building, with a nervously pulsating micro fusion reactor in their cellar and pierced bearing walls.

  “Good evening,” I hailed the guard at the gate. “Would you please announce me to your landlord?”

  “Do you have an appointment? What’s your name?” he demanded to know.

  “No names,” I chided him. “He’s expecting me.”

  “I must ask. Wait here.”

  He stepped into his booth and closed the door. He was even considerate enough to turn away, so that I couldn’t read his lips. That didn’t help him though, as my fine hearing picked up the sounds anyway.

  “Here’s a short one claiming to be expected. Do you have anyone on your list?”

  “The boss didn’t mention anything. What’s she look like?”

  “Two heads shorter than me, but hot. Two decent handfuls and a super-skintight dress. Perhaps an entertainer?”

  “Two heads shorter? Black hair?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait. I’ll ask.” It didn’t take long. “Ask her where she’s coming from. San Francisco’s the magic word, otherwise call in again.”

  He came out again.

  “Where do you come from?”

  “San Francisco.”

  “Okay.” He was amazed, but let me pass. “Stay on the path. You’re expected at the main door.” Once again he scrutinized me. “Weapons?”

  I slowly turned around once, showed my skintight nano dress with the two little belt pockets—one for bank notes, one for my booty. “Where would I hide them?”

  He laughed. “Get going.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “You’re full of surprises,” my host welcomed me in his office. “I hadn’t expected you to return at all—and then through the gate.”

  “But yes, you thought about it,” I objected. “You’ve instructed your guards accordingly.”

  “I only like to be prepared. Moreover, we had agreed on me not targeting you, hadn’t we?”

  “Thank you.”

  “And, how did it go?”

  I plucked the little velvety bag from my belt and handed it over.

  “You got them indeed?”

  “Naturally.”

  “And the force field?”

  “Was no obstacle for me.”

  “You don’t tell your tricks. It’s okay. And now—”

  “They hadn’t been able to decrypt the content yet. I believe that’s important to you.”

  “Indeed. How could you—oh, well, it’s okay.”

  “I eavesdropped on them for a while before I struck. They hadn’t even found out about the basic coding yet.”

  “Damn.” He cautiously placed the bag on the desk behind him. “But you know about it.”

  “Let’s just say, I have an eye for such things.”

  The look that he gave me thereafter was almost as penetrating. “It’s a pity that you don’t work for me. Well, you’ve earned a compensation fee. Would you agree on one-hundred thousand dollars? Your silence assumed.”

  “That’s more than appropriate for my effort.”

  “Hardly—for a woman who just walks through an impenetrable force field, that’s a tip. But my budget is limited. I must be grateful for your understanding.”

  He handed me a thick envelope, which I briefly checked. One hundred notes, no continuous serial numbers—and three of them were prepared with an ultra-thin RFID tag, invisible to the bare eye, but easily traced over distance by radio. With a smile I plucked the three notes out and replaced them on his desk. “I’m granting a discount for cash payments.”

  He had no chance to recognize my choice, but he probably guessed that I left the prepared notes behind. “Well, that’s all for today.”

  “Yes. If I can ever assist the MI-6 again…” I let the end of the sentence dangle in the air and reveled in his surprise.

  He regained his composure astonishingly quick. “You’re no ordinary thief.”

  Well, that was obvious.

  He frowned. “Just one-fifty, short, black hair, very athletic body. Very attractive, but not standing out. At the same time an expert who can deal with every dragon-technology-based trick that anybody at any time had come up with. You know, beautiful stranger, many years ago—and only once, as far as we know—one expert for Dragon technology escaped the Cartel’s grasp. She was rather short, but probably the cleverest Dragon academy graduate ever. She was in top shape—did the Hawaii Ironman in a time to dream of—and died much too early. However, there hasn’t been a burial. A riddle, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t want to comment that.

  “Why do I tell you? Well, we can add up two and two. And the Cartel can do that, too. You’re probably still on their list.”

  So he was convinced he had seen through me. I didn’t have an idea how I could distract him. Well then.

  “Sure, I’m still on their list. Project Orchestra.”

  “Kiss my ass.”

  “That’s charged extra.”

  “Ah, right. You’re a pro in that subject, too.” He made a no-nonsense face. “You’ve blown my cover. How can I be sure that I can trust you?”

  “There’s no absolute guarantee as long as I live.”

  “That’s exactly my problem.”

  “I’m on the right side. I’m not interested in picking the Cartel’s opponents away, just the opposite.”

  “If I only had proof of that.”

  “You don’t expect me to report about earlier missions now, do you? That’s all top secret.”

  “Mmm, yes. That’s the way the business works. A pity.”

  “But I can tell you about anything not related to a mission, right? There’d be Denver.”

  “Denver?”

  “Where the police caught me. I’ve been careless once. The Cartel sent me a killer, and the police looked away.”

  “Then you should be dead now. Or the killer.”

  “Neither. I crushed his collarbone. After all, he only did his job.”

  “And then you simply ran away?”

  “Well—there was a little riot at the police station.”

  “Oh, that story. Well, the riot came conveniently, didn’t it? So you could escape unseen. A lucky coincidence.”

  “That was no coincidence. The riot was for my sake, and I only left after I had cleaned up.”

  “That was you? The police had no clue how the attackers could have been stopped. They’d surely be grateful for a hint.”

  “The police can kiss my ass. Do you know what they’ve done to me?”

  “Interrogated—per
haps a bit the hard way?”

  “Multiple rapes and systematic torture would better describe it. I owe them nothing.”

  “And then you’ve helped them? I don’t understand.”

  “I helped the others. The entire station was attacked.”

  “You could have been killed.”

  “I’ve decided to no longer let myself be hunted.”

  “That’s why you initially came here.”

  “Originally, yes.”

  “I don’t want to hunt you anymore. I’ll simply trust you, and if I’m disappointed, then it has to be so.”

  “You won’t be disappointed.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Thoughtfully, I watched the trick fountains in front of the Bellagio.

  The talk had triggered a memory. I had a choice—I could try to penetrate the Cartel headquarter here in Vegas, or I could take care of the Dragon cultists, who had followed me to Denver.

  Both sides had lost my track, but both sides were enemy. I had no tangible evidence to tell which faction was worse or more urgent. The cultists with their young Dragon? Or the Cartel with armor suits and plasma guns?

  First, I could check whether Gomez had another job for me. If so, I’d find him somewhere in Vegas, only not here on the Strip.

  Instead, I spotted another familiar face. I decided to follow the man. He was heading south, until he reached the New York, New York. There he ambled from bar to bar, past a few gambling tables, and finally sat down in front of a street café inside the building and ordered a cappuccino.

  “Another for me,” I called after the waitress and took the second seat at the table. “Hello, Alan.”

  “Hello, Jo. I thought I’d somehow find you again.”

  “I’ve found you, Alan. If I hadn’t wanted this meeting, you wouldn’t have caught a glimpse of me.”

  “Then I have to thank you for having wanted the meeting. The coffee’s on me.”

  “Okay.”

  We silently gazed around until the coffee was served. He wanted something from me, not vice versa.

  “I have a job for you,” he finally said.

  I remembered the non-existing rescue from jail. “Oh, so now I shall help again?”

  “That’s the past.”

  “Correct. But we had a deal in Cannes, do you remember? In Denver, you could have honored your part. I memorize how you treat agreements.”

  “I tried. I wasn’t quick enough.”

  “Alan, you know how the Cartel works. You know how much time you have in such a case. If you’re venturing on a mission, you can’t just try, or you’re busted. So, what’s really been going on?”

  “Jo, you know that I had trouble with my superior in Cannes already.”

  “Deal is deal, Alan.”

  “Crap.” He took a sip of the still-too-hot coffee and made a face. “Yes, I’ve botched it. Give me a chance.”

  “Why?”

  “Jo, we’ve been trying to fight the Cartel for twenty years now, and during all that time, we had two truly striking successes. The first, when we could lay our hands on a still intact safe content. The second, when we could bust a meeting of Cartel leaders in France. On top came a few remarkable succès d’estime when we could retrieve agents or endangered persons in time, in Italy and California. The rest doesn’t count. Do you see the pattern?”

  I remained silent and tried to make sense of his words. He was working for a professional agency. They should be able to have some effect themselves?

  “Now and then, we could catch a man from the middle layer, who then committed suicide rather than to talk with us. Or we arrived late, and all records were burned. Or we had to take one out who had been out of control, and thus lost the trace. Sadly, national egoism has impeded us again and again—by the time people learned how dangerous the Cartel is, it was too late. We’ve achieved a few meaningless partial victories and thereby still lost ground. But let me return to the main point. The few true successes could only be done with your help.”

  “To then let me down.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then,” I finally said and drank my coffee. “Tell me.”

  “Not here. Tomorrow?”

  “Fremont Street at nine.”

  “I’ll come with Fiona, okay? My cover.”

  “Fiona’s okay, but nobody else.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  “Hello, Alan. Hello, Fiona.”

  The two stopped and turned around. Fiona hugged me like an old friend. “Jo, nice to see you! I’ve heard such ugly stories.”

  “Not here. Come with me.”

  As omnipresent as cameras and microphones in Vegas were, you could hardly believe that there still were suitable public places for a personal talk—and bars weren’t part of it—but on Fremont Street, the installation had a few holes. If we didn’t want to disappear to the backyards, the best place was in the midst of the public.

  “May I call you Jo at all?” Fiona asked. She’d grown older, and her high neck couldn’t entirely hide the newer scar. This way, she matched Alan well, on whom time had left her traces, too, and not just sorrow wrinkles. Both appeared wiped out, used up, worn down, and disillusioned.

  Alan noticed my scrutiny. “Yes, Jo, we’re on the ropes. The opposition gave us a wear-down war that we could only lose. The government takeover was only the tip of the iceberg—you know that, do you? They’ve systematically taken on the military, eliminated the lead of Air Force and Army and then by and by cleaned up the pockets of resistance. Damned plasma guns. No idea from where they’ve conjured them up in such amounts.”

  “From the Jellies. They’ve operated research labs in the ZONE.”

  “Sounds plausible.”

  “Fact.”

  “Curse me—Jo?” Fiona chimed in again.

  “Call me Velvet.”

  “The Velvet?” she echoed. “No, it can’t be otherwise. You’ve been there?”

  “In Belgium, for a different reason. I didn’t see the lab itself, but the people who followed me knew a lot about project Sunburn.”

  “Dragon crap,” Alan cursed. “If we had known about it!”

  “You wouldn’t have got there.”

  “The Air Force would simply have shot that place down, and then the Army would have walked in. We’ve been that far. But now—well.”

  “But you’re still active.”

  “We try to organize ourselves. Cell system, nobody knows more than three people, and so on. Small-scale operations instead of big stuff, more isn’t possible.”

  “Isn’t there resistance within the Army?”

  “Silently. Whoever goes into hiding counts as a deserter. Those who stay have to go with the flow. Formally, Cartel affiliates have been placed on top, and the old leaders are neutralized. The best people are in jail. The rest stay and wait for a sign—which we still can’t send soon. The fleet has found exile with friendly nations, the Japanese and the Brits, where the Cartel hasn’t struck yet, but it won’t take long, and resupply will become a problem.”

  Fiona spoke up again. “We need at least a little success, so that people can have hope. So that they at least preserve their inner will for resistance. We need these successes soon, Jo, aw, Velvet. And we hardly have any resources left.”

  “We need a lead,” Alan stressed. “A little information, sore spots, anything that we can use. Who, what, where, when. Do you have any idea?”

  Their gaze confirmed what I could figure from their words—the situation was desperate and almost hopeless.

  “I’m not yet ready to sneak into their headquarters,” I admitted. “But perhaps I can find something somewhere else.”

  “Not yet,” Alan murmured. “That’s the Jo I know.”

  “Have you got any idea where it is?” Fiona asked.

  “Yes, sure. Here in Vegas, Inferno and Invasion. Well guarded, and I have no plan yet on how to enter.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve been, well, busy otherwise.”r />
  “With what?”

  “There’s no need for you to know.”

  Alan spoke up again. “Jo, we want you on the team. We need to know.”

  “I haven’t yet agreed to work for you, and even less on the team. My other missions are not your business, as I don’t talk about your missions to others. It should suffice that I don’t work against your interest.”

  “But—well. I take what I can get. Regardless what. Please.”

  “I don’t do it for you, but against the Cartel. Clear?”

  “Must do.”

  “Good. Then I know where to start. We’ll meet today in a week, on Pier 39.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  The man came in, briefly looked around the room, empty except for six chairs, and nodded contentedly. He took a small device from his belt and raised it. A green light appeared, and he hummed in agreement.

  He placed a second device on the floor and operated another switch, acknowledged by another green light. The device in his hand now showed yellow.

  The man disappeared through the door, and I was alone again.

  Briefly thereafter, three men and three women entered, one by one, and took their seats. An older woman spoke.

  “Our progress isn’t satisfactory. Number one, our reconnaissance. We’re not sufficiently informed. Takumi.”

  “My spies are poorly educated and thus poorly covered. The opposition spots too many of them and takes them out. I fail to recruit enough replacements. I can’t convincingly motivate them to face the danger. I have failed and must be punished.”

  The older woman nodded. “After the session, you will submit yourself to the punishers’ knowledgeable hands. I think that level three is appropriate for your ongoing failure.”

  Takumi flinched and lowered his head.

  The chairwoman looked at a younger woman. “Number two, the cleanup. We still have no trace of the wanted subject. Sakura.”

  “I don’t receive any news from reconnaissance. There’s no clue at all, where the spy could hide. How could I—”