Zillion

by Alexander Blackwood

  Agent Farris nodded.

  Dr. Kazue paused in the threshold and looked back at me. "Oh, yes. I almost forgot to tell you. Well done. Your father would be very proud." Then he walked out.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  "Dr. Kazue's right," Agent Farris said as he dragged a chair to my bedside and sat down. "Max would've been very proud of the job you've done. And Digby wanted to come along just to slap you on the back. He's pretty proud of you too."

  Agent Farris's kind words, along with the doctor's, left a lump in my throat, and I believed they were both being sincere. Still, I couldn't escape the feeling I could've done more. "That's good to know," I finally said to Farris "But I wish I could've caught Banks too."

  "Nonsense. Capturing Banks was never part of your assignment. Anyway, he won't get far. All of St. Tropez has been in complete lockdown ever since the blast. No one in or out."

  "Then how'd you get in?"

  Agent Farris frowned. "Correction... with the exception of anyone who has the President of France on his speed dial."

  "So, you're saying Banks is still here?"

  "In all likelihood, yes. And while transportation resumes tomorrow, the lockdown has given us time to emplace airtight security. The only way Banks could slip out of St. Tropez is straight up, and even that's not guaranteed. Like I said, we'll get him."

  "Good," I said. "I just wish I could be there."

  "No, it's best you return to the states and take some time to recover, as Dr. Kazue advised. Still, you might be able to help us locate Banks."

  "How?"

  "Agent Wong told me about Mouse holding you at gunpoint, etcetera, so I don't need those details. I want to know if Banks said anything before leaving that might hint at where he's hiding?"

  I mentally replayed the events in the cellar, but couldn't remember Banks saying anything regarding a destination. I shook my head. "No. He just said goodbye, saluted, then ran up the stairs."

  "He saluted you?"

  "Yeah." I raised my right hand and mimicked Bank's snappy salute. "It's something he does. Corny as hell, like the man himself."

  "Hmmm." Agent Farris adjusted his glasses. "Corny, definitely, but that gives me an idea."

  "What? You think he's getting help from the French military?"

  "No. But there are several abandoned bases in this area left over from World War 2. Some would make a great place for a rat like Banks hole up. I'll have them checked out."

  "Sounds like a long shot," I said.

  "It is but that's all we have. Banks is a slick customer. He could be anywhere. And to that point, you better take this back." Agent Farris reached into the small of his back, withdrew the infinity gun, and slipped it under my pillow.

  I said to him, "You really think Banks would try to come after me? He didn't strike me as the vengeful type."

  "You're correct," Agent Farris said. "But your uncle is an entirely different story."

  I felt a jolt of anxious surprise. With all the drama surrounding Banks and the pocket nukes, I'd totally forgotten that Rex had tried to murder me. I said to Agent Farris, "I left Rex and his goon unconscious in Banks's study. If the villa collapsed how'd they escape injury?"

  "The goon, as you put it, didn't escape. He's dead. As for Rex, there's no sign of him, and he wasn't pulled out by rescuers. The only logical assumption is that somehow Rex survived and left the scene before rescuers arrived."

  "Which means he's still out there, and still wants me dead."

  "Unfortunately that is correct."

  "Hopefully he'll be too busy dodging police, to come after me."

  Suddenly Agent Farris looked puzzled. "Why would Sinclair be on the run from the police?"

  It was my turn to look puzzled. "What do you mean? He tried to murder me, remember?"

  Agent Farris made a doubtful sound. "Do you remember that the cameras were out? There's zero evidence. It would be your word against his, and no DA would touch that." Farris frowned. "No, as far as the law is concerned your uncle Rex is as clean as a whistle. So, as far as he's concerned, remain alert."

  "That's just great." Suddenly I was very happy for the lethal lump beneath my pillow.

  Farris glanced at his watch. "I better get going before Dr. Kazue puts me in the hospital, but there is one more thing I wanted to discuss briefly."

  In the short time I knew Agent Farris, he always came across as self-assured and direct, but not at that moment. Suddenly there was a hint of hesitancy in his voice and manner, as if he were about to deliver bad news.

  "Is there something wrong?" I asked.

  After a moment's thought, he said, "Wrong? No. Puzzling? Yes." He straightened up in his seat, then continued. "The data you helped us obtain from Banks's server has been a treasure trove of information. I'm sure you wouldn't be surprised to learn that he's had dealings with some notorious individuals. Some known to law enforcement and others who would only be known to those in the intelligence community."

  "Okay," I said. I didn't know where this was going, but I could see it was making him increasingly uncomfortable.

  "Mathew," Agent Farris continued, "an interesting item came up in connection to your parent's murder."

  I stopped breathing and my heart pounded. "Do you now know who killed them?"

  Agent Farris shook his head. "No. Nothing so specific. But it seems that ten years ago, Banks sold a device that we're pretty certain was used to bring your father's jet down."

  "Sold to who?"

  He frowned. "Unfortunately, only a codename was uncovered, but we're pretty certain it's either the actual assassin or someone closely connected to the assassin. When we capture Banks there's a good possibility we might also get justice for your parents."

  I suddenly felt the urge to jump out of my hospital bed and singlehandedly conduct a door-to-door search of St. Tropez for Banks. Only two things stopped me, the IV tubes tethered to my body, and the fact that Agent Farris said: "when we catch Banks." His certainty helped me to remain settled. "What was the buyer's codename?" I asked.

  Agent Farris frowned. "Actually, it's not a name at all. It's a number. Six, six, six."

  "Six, six, six? Like in the bible? Like the sign of the devil?"

  "I'm not religious," Agent Farris said, "but I believe so. Yes." He looked at me. "I know the fact that your parents' death is left unresolved concerns you. So I thought you'd want to know."

  I nodded. "Thanks."

  "To be clear it's not my intention to get your hopes up. Even once we have banks, this might lead nowhere."

  I nodded again. "I understand."

  "Good." Agent Farris stood and returned the chair to its spot against the wall. "Next week, I'll arrange for you and your team to come to X9 Headquarters for a full debriefing. For now, get some rest."

  With that Agent Farris crossed to the door. Before he exited, I said, "Thanks again."

  He paused and looked back. "No. Thank you. Like I said, great job." Then he was gone.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  I was awakened from a fitful sleep by a soft kiss on the lips. I opened my eyes and saw Agent Wong smiling down at me. The room was dark, and she was lit only by the glow from the vitals monitor near my bedside. Despite the faint light Agent Wong still looked gorgeous.

  She smiled and said, "I didn't mean to wake you. I was kissing you goodbye."

  "Goodbye?" Rising to my elbow, I saw that she was fully dressed. "Why? I thought you were flying back with us tomorrow."

  "That was the plan... until the email I received a little while ago. I have a new assignment, and it's not in the U.S."

  "Where?"

  "Put it like this," she whispered playfully, "If I told you I'd have to kill you?"

  "That's too bad. I was looking forward to taking you on an amazing date back in the states. And none of this going dutch stuff. My treat all the way."

  She chuckled. "Can I get a rain check?"

  "Sure. Snow check, sunshine check, whatever. When you're back in th
e country, call me."

  She nodded. "I will. Wendell was right. You are a natural. I liked working with you, and I hope we get to do it again."

  "Same here." I paused to take in her body one last time. She was in jeans and a simple blouse but still looked sexy as hell. "I hope we get to do some other things again too."

  Agent Wong moaned the way people do when they taste something delicious, then she did something totally unexpected. She crossed to the door and locked it. Then, as she stalked back towards my bed, she began to slowly unbutton her blouse. She had the look of a predator ready to pounce, and I was the prey.

  I held up a hand like a traffic cop. "Wait. As much as I want to, I'm under strict orders from my doctor not to engage in any sexual activity."

  Pouting, she stopped in her tracks. "No. Really?"

  "You think I would make that up? I'm recovering from a concussion, and the bullet hits have bruised me up pretty bad. Every little movement hurts."

  "Awww. Poor baby." Leaving her blouse open, she eased forward, slid her hand under my bed sheet, and took hold of me. Apparently, my concusion did not affect the part of my brain dedicated to arousal because I immediately began to harden.

  She squeezed my member gently and purred, "Does that hurt?"

  "Nope. Not even a little."

  She made that delicious sound again and began to stroke me. "And how's that?"

  I went rock hard and it was my turn to moan.

  Pleased that I was pleased, Agent Wong continued stroking me with one hand while pushing me gently back onto the pillow with the other. She whispered, "You just relax. This won't hurt a bit. I promise." Then she pulled back the sheets and took me into her mouth.

  My back arched with pleasure, and that's all. She was right, I felt no pain. And clearly she wasn't in any rush to catch a flight because she worked her tongue and lips over my manhood slowly and carefully.

  I moaned with pleasure until she gestured for me to keep it down. I tried, but when she began stroking and sucking me faster and faster, I had to push my face into my pillow to muffle groans. When I finally exploded in her mouth, she dutifully kept her lips over the head of my penis until she extracted every pearly drop. Finally, Agent Wong lifted her head and swallowed dramatically. She wiped her lips and said, "Something to remember you by."

  My entire body buzzing, the only response I could manage was, "Wow!"

  Agent Wong chuckled, tidy-upped my sheets, then pecked me on the lips. Without saying a word she crossed the room, waved goodbye, and walked out.

  Shortly after, I drifted off and I have never slept better.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  A little before 10 AM the next morning Dr. Kazue signed me out of the hospital. My head remained bandaged, and my body was still sore, but I felt more than well enough to travel. I was dressed casually in jeans, a t-shirt, and a simple sports jacket. The jacket was loose-fitting, necessary to conceal my shoulder-holstered weapon.

  The doctor and I rode in the rear of a rented stretch limousine down the Mediterranean coast. Between the doctor's humorous anecdotes about my father, I enjoyed the scenery outside my window. It was an exceptionally clear and sunny day. The seaside, dotted with frolicking beachgoers and colorful boats of all sizes, served as a soothing distraction.

  About ninety minutes later the limo arrived at Cote d'Azur airport. After passing through a security checkpoint, we cruised along the tarmac past several private jets, all buzzing with activity. Luggage being loaded, pilots performing walkarounds, and well-heeled passengers boarding. I thought it odd, so many wealthy people were preparing to depart France at the same hour, until I remembered the travel ban. Undoubtedly, several of those private jets belonged to Banks's party guests who, after surviving a nuclear blast, had been trapped in Saint-Tropez for two days. Now that the ban was lifted they were understandably in a big rush to get home.

  When the limo stopped, and we climbed out, I was delighted to see Reba and Wendell waiting with the flight crew in the shadow of my Gulfstream 3. The doctor and I momentarily had to shield our eyes from sunlight glinting off the huge golden Z painted on the tail fin.

  The pilot and crew greeted us warmly then turned their attention to their pre-flight routines.

  Wendell laughed at the sight of me. "Wow, some hero. You look like shit. And what the hell is that on your head?" He went to touch my bandages, but Dr. Kazue swatted Wendell's shin with his cane.

  "Oww!" Wendell cried out.

  "What is wrong with you?" the doctor said to Wendell. "Can't you see he's a sick man? Maybe I should examine your head."

  Reba threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug. "I'm so glad you're okay," she said. "And don't listen to Wendell. You look very heroic."

  "I was just kidding," Wendell said. He slapped me on the shoulder. "Good fucking job, dude."

  I said to them both, "The truth is we all did it together. We make a good team."

  As Wendell, Reba, and I group hugged, Dr. Kazue groaned and rolled his eyes. "I swear, if you three plan to carry on like this the entire flight, tell me now. I'd rather suffer through a commercial flight back home."

  Right on cue a babeboid flight attendant appeared at the top of the air-stairs and announced, "The captain's almost ready to taxi. He'd like everyone to take their seats and fasten their seatbelts, please."

  I grabbed Dr. Kazue's arm. "Come on, doc. No more mushy hero talk. I promise."

  MOMENTS LATER, Reba, Wendell, and I were strapping ourselves into facing leather loungers. I considered removing my shoulder holster, but the truth was, I sort of like wearing a gun. There was a coolness factor, for sure, but it also served as a constant reminder of the responsibility I took on by stepping into my father's secret footsteps.

  Dr. Kazue, preferring to be alone, chose a seat at the rear of the cabin. He was already buckled in, fully reclined, and engrossed in a fat book.

  While we all enjoyed a service of preflight refreshments, I told Wendell and Reba about Banks's tangential connection to my parents' murder.

  "You know what," Reba said. "Maybe Agent Wong could help you track down this 666 person." Then Reba's brow wrinkled. "Where is Agent Wong anyway? I thought she was flying back with us."

  I told them about Agent Wong's late-night visit to my hospital room and her top-secret reassignment. Being a gentleman, I made no mention of the wonderful farewell present she gave me.

  "That's too bad," Wendell said.

  "Why?" I asked. "Because we made a great team?"

  "Sure, that. But mostly because I know you were really into her."

  My eyebrows went up. "Oh, really? And how do you know that?"

  "Come on, dude. It was obvious. It was all in your eyes. Ask Reba."

  "He's right," Reba said. "You really did like her. And you know for a fact that I could see it." And with that Reba flashed me a knowing look.

  "Hey," Wendell said. "What was that?"

  Reba and I replied in unison. "What was what?"

  "That 'we've got a secret' look." Wendell's eyes narrowed on me. "Did something happen between you three that first night?"

  I shook my head. "No. Absolutely not."

  Wendell gasped through a huge smile. "Holy shit! You guys had a threesome, didn't you? Tell the truth."

  Reba and I exchanged guilty looks.

  Wendell gasped again, then said to me. "You see, I told you. HBC! It never fails."

  Reba turned puzzled to me. "What is HBC?"

  "Don't ask."

  Wendell shook his head. "Matt. Dude. What happened? You promised me if something went down you'd get me some video?"

  Reba glared at me. "Is that true?"

  Thankfully, right at that moment, the jet began to slowly taxi backward, providing me with the perfect distraction. I pointed out the window. "Wow, check her out."

  Across the tarmac, a small charter jet slid into view. Actually, it was only slightly smaller than my Gulfstream 3. I could tell it was chartered because of the sleek tail fin logo that rea
d, Le Jet. While its uniformed flight crew waited at the foot of the air-stairs, a woman with huge hair, gaudy jewelry, and draped in thick furs, emerged from a pink stretch limousine.

  "Jeez," Wendell said. "She must be on PETA's most wanted list. I'd bet anything she was at Banks's party."

  Reba made a face. "I don't remember seeing her at the party. Or on the guest list."

  "Yeah," Wendell said. "Good point."

  As the fur-draped woman strode towards the flight crew, she flipped them a little salute than began ascending the stairs.

  I stopped breathing. I'd recognize that corny salute anywhere. "Holy shit! That's Banks!"

  Reba and Wendell stared at me like I was nuts.

  "Dude, what the hell are you talking about?" Wendell said.

  I pointed out the window. "That woman isn't a woman. It's Banks. He's wearing a disguise."

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  I bolted down the aisle, past startled flight attendants, and unlatched the main cabin door. As the airstairs began to swing downward, an alarm sounded and the jet came to a jarring halt.

  The pilot exploded out of the cockpit door. "What the hell is going on?"

  A confused Wendell and Reba were hurrying down the aisle, calling for me to stop.

  The descending air-stairs cleared my line-of-sight in time for me to see the fur-draped woman topping the charter jet's stairs. I shouted across the tarmac, "BANKS!"

  The woman spun and we locked eyes. He was heavily made up, and truly looked like a woman, but that disgusted snarl on his face was unmistakable.

  Pointing, I shouted to the charter jet's flight crew, "That woman's wanted by the police! Stop her!"

  The confused flight crew hesitated long enough for Banks to reach down and yank the cabin door handle, causing the airstairs to retract.

  The pilot instantly freaked. Shouting in french for Banks to stop, he grabbed the bottom step and struggled to hold down the rising door.

  Banks yelled, "Get off!" as he flung his bulky fur coat into the pilot's face. Blinded and tangled, the pilot lost his grip and stumbled backward onto his ass.