"Quite significantly," Digby added with a nod.
Again the two men exchanged glances as if they couldn't wait to see my reaction to what came next.
"Exactly what are you two talking about?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Agent Farris led Digby and I over to the display cabinet containing the smartphone, along with other objects. Gesturing to a small sensor plate built into the frame, he said to me, "Do you mind?"
I pressed the signet ring to the plate. There was a CLICK then a hiss of air as the cabinet's top flipped open.
Agent Farris removed the smartphone and hit the power button. I watched with astonishment as the device quickly came to life.
I said to Digby, "You're telling me that phone hasn't been charged in ten years?"
"It doesn't need charging," Digby said. "Ever. It's powered by a fusion cell."
"A what?"
Digby smiled. "You'll understand soon enough."
Agent Farris handed me the smartphone. "Take a look."
An image filled the screen. A revolving brain surrounded by a bright glowing blue ring. Beneath that a single word: HALO.
"What's Halo?" I asked.
"Halo's a proprietary app developed by Z-Tech. Tap the screen."
I did, and a menu bar labeled CATEGORIES appeared. Another tap and a drop-down menu displayed a list. COMBAT, STEALTH, KNOWLEDGE, LANGUAGE, RECREATION, and several more.
"Go on," Agent Farris said. "Select one."
Stealth piqued my curiosity the most, so I tapped that one. Instantly a new list appeared. LOCK PICKING, SAFE CRACKING, ALARM SYSTEMS, DISGUISE, FORGERY. Altogether, there were about twenty items.
"Okay," I said. "Now what? I pick one and it gives me step by step instructions?"
"Something like that," Agent Farris said. "Try it."
I don't know why, but as my finger hovered over the screen I felt nervous. Maybe it was the careful way Digby and Agent Farris were watching me. After a moment's hesitation, I pressed forgery. The device chimed, a swirling kaleidoscope pattern appeared along with the flashing words: SEARCHING FOR UPLINK.
I showed Agent Farris the screen. "I think something's wrong. It's searching for something."
"No. It's functioning perfectly. Halo is attempting to instantly upload the skillset you requested to your brain."
I stared at him, then Digby, waiting for the crack of a smile, or a chuckle. Waiting for some sign that these two old dudes were fucking with me.
"Do you understand now?" Agent Farris finally said.
"You're saying this app can upload information to my brain? That I can learn stuff instantly?"
"Correct."
"Like in the Matrix when Neo learned Kung Fu?"
Agent Farris frowned. "That was just a silly movie. Halo is very real, and an incredibly useful tool."
Normally, at this point, I'd be laughing my ass off, but I was standing in a secret spy lair with a top official in the CIA. As hard as it was to swallow, I knew he was telling the truth. Instead of laughing I exclaimed, "Holy shit!"
I shut my eyes and tried to sense any unusual feeling in my head, but I felt perfectly normal.
"How long does the upload usually take?" I asked Farris. "I don't feel anything at all."
"That's because Halo isn't currently uploading," He explained. "Like the screen says, it's searching for the uplink receiver that relays the data to your synapses."
Suddenly I felt very dense. Did I really expect a phone to be able to beam info directly to my brain? What he said made perfect sense. There had to be some sort of specialized companion device to bridge the gap between electronics and flesh. As I scanned the other display cases, I asked, "So what does the uplink receiver look like? Some sort of skullcap or headset?"
"No," Agent Farris said. "Halo is used in the field. A skullcap or headset would be bulky and far too noticeable."
"Wait, I know. The receiver is built into the lining of a hat, or eyeglass frames, right?"
"No. Anything worn can be lost, and Halo is far too essential a tool to take that chance."
I looked at Farris. "I don't get it. If it's not something you wear or carry, what is it?"
Agent Farris stepped closer to me and tapped my forehead with his finger. "Halo's uplink receiver goes right in there. It's a brain implant."
I recoiled from his touch. "Implant? You mean for this thing to work I need brain surgery?"
"Of course not. There's a device that injects the implant into the cerebral cortex through the nasal cavity. Your Dr. Kazue would administer it, of course. It's practically painless, takes less than a minute, and is perfectly safe."
"Well, wait," Digby said, raising a cautious hand. He turned to me. "What Agent Farris is telling you about the implantation process is mostly true, but there is a slight risk of permanent brain damage."
I recoiled again. "What?"
Agent Farris shot Digby a look. "You're well aware there's only a five percent chance of failure."
"That's true," Digby replied. "But a five percent chance is still a chance, and as Mathew's council, it's my duty to make him aware of all risks involved. Not just with the implant, by the way, but with everything you've proposed. While in your service, Max's life was in jeopardy more time's than I can count. Mathew needs to understand completely that what you're offering him isn't all excitement and adventure, like in a movie. It is, in fact, a life and death proposition."
Listening to Digby's grim speech, while standing in a room full of deadly weapons and spy gadgets, had an eye-opening effect. I was slapped with a realization that should've occurred to me before.
I looked Agent Farris in the eye. "This is how they died, isn't it?"
The Fed shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. The application of your father's implant went perfectly. As for your mother, she never had--"
"No," I said, cutting him off. "I mean this whole spy game. My parents didn't die in a simple plane crash, did they? They were murdered. Murdered by someone my Father pissed off playing James Bond. Am I right?"
Seeing Digby and Agent Farris trade busted looks, told me everything I needed to know.
"Don't bother answering," I said to them both. "I can see it on your faces."
Agent Farris pinned me with earnest eyes. "Mathew, the truth is the agency doesn't know who's responsible, but you're right. The plane crash that killed Max and Racine Zillion was no accident. Your parents were murdered."
I turned hurt eyes to Digby. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?"
"That entirely depended on you," Digby said. "If you chose to be a freelance asset, like your father, then of course I would've told you. On the other hand, if you rejected this path, I would have allowed you to go on believing the fiction. For no other reason than your own peace of mind."
I looked around the room again, seeing the tools of my deceased father's insane double-life with new eyes. I shook my head and laughed. "This is nuts," I said to Agent Farris. "I just inherited a fortune, literally, and now, just two weeks later, you want me to risk everything to play secret agent man? Why the fuck would I do that?"
Agent Farris stared. "Because the world needs you."
I laughed again and tossed him the smartphone. "You don't need me. Just find some other sucker to let you fuck with his brain. I'm sure there are plenty of guys, far more qualified than me, who'd love to be a super spy."
"True, but none have the Zillion name. A name that opens doors to places closed to even our best agents."
"Like exclusive parties?"
"Precisely."
"Here's the thing. I love parties. Dying with a knife in my back, or from poison, or by being blown to smithereens, not so much. So I'm going to go back to my party now and enjoy the shit out of being crazy rich. Who knows, maybe in a decade or so, if I'm bored with doing whatever the fuck I please, we can reopen this discussion. But for now... later."
As I strolled out of the secret room, I'm pretty sure I heard Agent Farris say to Digby, "The bo
y's impossible. Just like his father."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
After being absent from the party for over an hour, I was surprised to see that the crowd's exuberance and size had escalated to near critical mass.
I stood at the railing on a high walkway that overlooked the cavernous grand hall. The entire upstairs was off limits to party guests so, with the exception of my three linebacker-sized shadows, I was alone. Thirty-five feet below me, hundreds of the wealthiest and most beautiful people, connected enough to get an invitation, danced and boozed and devoured hors d'oeuvres while pounding music rattled chandeliers. Beyond the picture windows, I could see more revelers frolicking about the grounds, splashing in the infinity pool, or cheering the Cirque du Soleil acrobats.
They were all here to celebrate me.
Why would anyone in their right mind risk losing all this for any reason?
It didn't feel great turning down the chance to save innocent lives, but to me it made perfect sense. If bad guy spies could take out my father, who even Agent Farris described as super-heroic, what chance did I have of surviving even a single mission? And sure, that Halo implant sounded amazing, but Max had one in his head and it sure as hell didn't save his life. The more I thought about it, the more signing on with Agent Farris seemed like suicide.
I was young, healthy, smart, said to be good looking, and now impossibly rich. I was pretty much guaranteed a long life full of fun and pleasure, and without a care in the world. To squander such good fortune would be beyond foolish, it would be an offense to God. And while I've never been one to put much faith in a higher power, now that I'd been blessed, why take any chances?
My reverie was interrupted by a familiar voice. "A penny for your thoughts."
Reba approached carrying two shot glasses of clear liquor.
"Just a penny?" I said. "You do realize I'm very well off, right?"
"That's pretty much the talk of the party." She passed me one of the shot glasses. "Porfidio tequila. Best in the world. She raised her glass. "Cheers."
We CLINKED glasses and downed our drinks. The delicious flavor made the throat burn worth it.
We leaned on the rail, side-by-side, and quietly watched the dancing horde below.
"What happened to Derek?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.
"I couldn't get an Uber so I had one of your drivers take him home. Hope you don't mind."
"Not at all."
"And sorry again. Derek's not usually like that."
"No problem, but I gotta say, I'm surprised you told him about our talk in my bedroom."
Reba snorted. "Please. I didn't tell him a thing. I think Derek just senses that there's a vibe between you and I."
I looked at her. Savored the way that tight red dress embraced her curves. Relished the aroma of her perfume. Finally, I said, "You know, if the vibes between us are that potent, maybe we shouldn't ignore them."
She smiled and issued a pleasurable moan, then annoyingly changed the subject. "So, tell me, how'd your big secret meeting go?"
I considered returning the topic to the special vibe Reba and I shared but thought better of pushing too hard. After all, I did already agree to commit myself to the friend zone.
"Tell the truth," I said to Reba. "Are you really in the dark, or do you know what that meeting was about?"
Reba shook her head. "I have no idea. I do know your father sometimes did hush-hush stuff for the government, but I have zero details."
I chuckled. "You wouldn't believe the details if I told you."
"Yeah, well don't. I don't want you getting into trouble."
We were both startled by a loud voice behind us. "There you are!" Wendell approached carrying a beer and one hand and a plate of sushi in the other.
"How'd you get past my bodyguards?" I asked.
Wendell laughed. "That's funny. I've been looking for you for like twenty minutes. Where you been hiding?" He gave Reba an up and down glance, then grinned devilishly. "Hey, you two been having a private little party of your own?"
Reba rolled her eyes, and said to me, "There's still time to send him back, you know?"
"Not funny," Wendell said. "Pretty mean actually. I'm a little hurt. That Chinese doctor has a tongue depressor up his ass, but I thought you and I were cool."
"Dr. Kazue is Japanese," Reba said.
"Same difference. Where is that old dude anyway? He can't be sleeping through all this."
"You're right," Reba said. "I saw the doctor on the patio discussing his orgasm theory with two very attentive models."
Wendell shook his head. "Unbelievable." He took a swig of beer and froze. Pointed at the signet ring on my right hand. "Where'd you get that sweet ring?"
"Digby gave it to me. It used to belong to my father."
Reba took my hand and pulled the ring closer. "Hey, I didn't notice this."
"How could you miss it," Wendell said, grabbing my hand from Reba so he could get a better look. "It's ginormous. Crazy heavy too." Then to me, he said, "Take it off so I can try it on."
I snatched my hand back. "I don't think so."
"Hey, be nice to me. I'm here to deliver a message from a very special lady. Scarlet Jolie is looking for you."
I sighed. "Wendell, you told me that already. Remember?"
He raised a finger. "Let me finish. Scarlet Jolie is looking for you... again. She must've really liked what she found the first time, huh?" He winked at me. "You slipped her the Oscar, or what?"
Reba and I couldn't help laughing at that.
Wendell went on. "She's swimming in the indoor pool right now."
"The indoor pool is off-limits to guests," I said. "Who let her in?"
"I did. I didn't think you'd mind. Especially because of who Scarlet had with her."
"What do you mean? Who's with her?"
Wendell grinned and said, "Remember that movie where Scarlet plays a student that gets seduced by her female guidance counselor."
"Life Lessons?" I said.
"No. That was the sequel."
Reba jumped in. "You're talking about Misguided."
"Bingo," Wendell said. "The woman who played the smoking hot counselor, that's who's in the pool with Scarlet."
"Jennifer Roberts?" Reba asked.
"Bingo again."
"No way," I said.
"Yes way," Wendell shot back. "They're in there now, splashing around. Waiting for you."
Despite being a so-so movie, Misguided achieved cult status because of the steamy scenes between newcomer Scarlet Jolie and seasoned Oscar Winner, Jennifer Roberts. Roberts was almost twice Jolie's age but looked just as hot; some would even argue hotter. Occasionally rumors popped-up that the sex scenes in Misguided were authentic, but both women have again and again issued adamant denials. Also, I couldn't remember seeing a video clip or photograph of the two actors socializing publicly. For that reason, the idea that they'd now be swimming together in my indoor pool seemed completely ridiculous.
I frowned at Wendell. "You're mixing Jennifer Roberts up with someone else. If she were at my party I'd know it."
Wendell laughed. "Dude, I'll bet you one million dollars Jennifer Roberts is in your pool right now." He stuck out his hand. "Is that a bet?"
I rolled my eyes. "You don't even have a million dollars."
"I will after we make this bet." He waggled his still extended hand. "Come on, bet me."
"Don't do it," Reba said to me. "I'm pretty sure Jennifer Roberts was on the invite list."
Wendell glared at Reba. "Why are you ruining my action?"
Reba shrugged. "Just doing my job. Sorry."
I said to Wendell, "Let me get this straight. Scarlet Jolie and Jennifer Roberts are swimming in my indoor pool right now?"
"Affirmative."
"And they're waiting for me?"
"Affirmative."
I winked at Reba. "Gotta go."
She laughed. "No shit."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Minutes after
leaving Reba and Wendell, I stood at the shallow end of my Olympic sized pool watching two of the most beautiful women in the world having a splash fight. I don't know where they got them, but both were wearing bikinis.
Maybe sex symbols never leave home without skimpy swimwear.
An open bottle of Krug Clos d'Ambonnay and a half-eaten antipasto tray sat near the edge of the pool. I picked up a half-empty flute and drained it while watched the show.
Finally, the women noticed they had an audience. Scarlet smiled hello then gestured to her pool mate. "This is Jennifer Roberts. You know, the movie star."
Jennifer Roberts looked a little different with her hair wet, but there was no mistaking those eyes. They were pale blue and mesmerizingly beautiful. Her black bikini accentuated a tight yet busty forty-something-year-old physique most twenty-year-olds would give up Instagram for.
For some reason I waved at her. "Hello. Nice to meet you."
Jennifer waved back. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Zillion. Beautiful house."
"Thank you."
"Are you going to join us?"
Scarlet beckoned me with a curled finger. "Come on, Mathew. We're waiting." Then Scarlet whispered something into Jennifer's ear and they both giggled like little girls.
I didn't know what they had in mind for me, but I damn sure was going to find out. I said to them, "Let me go get some trunks. I'll be right back."
Scarlet made a face. "Why bother? I've already seen it... up close. Really close."
The two celebrities giggled again. They were tipsy, but only enough to make them more fun.
"Don't worry," Jennifer said. "Scarlet told me everything about you two. She's such a little slut."
Both women laughed like that was the funniest joke in the world. Scarlet beckoned me in again. "Come on. Strip."
"Yeah, come on," Jennifer added. "You're missing all the fun."
"You both want me to get naked, right here? Just like that?"
They both nodded eagerly like naughty little girls.
"That doesn't seem fair. You're both wearing bikinis."
I'd barely finished the sentence before Scarlet and Jennifer were tossing their bikinis out of the pool. I could now see their naked bodies through the clear rippling water -- good thing I had my bodyguard wait outside the pool area.
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