Vera was beautiful, rich and sophisticated. But when it came to Hannah, she was dreadfully insecure. She hated herself for being so weak in this romance; she had never felt this way before with any lover, male or female. She had always dominated her transitory distractions, sometimes cruelly, wielding most of the emotional power and almost all the control.
But not so with Hannah and her failure was both utter and complete. She couldn’t imagine why. She hoped it was love.
***
The next two weeks were a whirlwind of meetings, conference calls, internal arguments and occasional bitter controversy. Vera formed no part of the debate but her input when asked was brief, to the point and unvarnished. She met all fifteen candidates, one by one, plus the odd man in the wheelchair that appeared suddenly at their hotel room door one morning unannounced.
Hannah was awake, up and dressed when she heard the knock on the door.
She peered through the peephole and saw only the top of what she perceived to be a man’s head. He wheeled back a little, showing himself, and said, “My name is George Armstrong Oak. I’m here for my interview. Eddie boy sent me.”
Hannah replied, “Just a moment. I’ll be with you shortly.”
Unannounced meant stupid, dangerous and a hazardous breach of protocol. She began dialing the phone.”
The man said, “250 391 0054. That’s his secure direct line. If he doesn’t answer text him at 360 484 0420. Always gets his attention.”
Edward answered. “Hannah? What’s happened, why are you calling? Is there a problem?”
“I don’t know Edward, is there? I have a man in a wheelchair parked outside my hotel room door saying he’s here for an interview. Know anything about it? I know I don’t.”
“I do. I do. I am so sorry, but I thought George was going to meet up with you in London. I had no idea he would be going up to Edinburgh early. I asked him to make arrangements with you; he seems to have gotten a little out ahead of himself. You can let him in but let me talk to him. Please.”
“Next guy who shows up unannounced gets a bb in the brain, courtesy Noki. That was your rule, remember?”
“Yes. And those were my exact words. I’ll take my one and only mulligan now. Sorry.”
“You fucked up. The only reason he’s alive is that Noki hasn’t pulled the trigger. Yet.
“I apologize,’ said Edward, sincerely. “It won’t happen again.”
Hannah said, “Apologize to him; Noki wasn’t going to shoot you.” She let the man in and handed him her phone. The conversation was brief.
The man clicked off the cell and handed the phone back to Hannah. “OK then. My name’s George and you must be Hannah. Where’s Noki?”
“Who?”
“Nocera Lee, your first officer. Thought I heard you say she was present, armed and dangerous.”
Hannah ignored the man, instead asking, “Why are you here, George. Exactly?”
“Edward. Eddie, as I call him, hired me a few days ago and asked me to join you here in London.”
“We’re not in London. Why are you here? I won’t ask again and if you don’t give me the correct answer, I’ll have Noki wheel you out the door.”
“But Noki’s not here, is she? Now what are you going to do? Me and this infernal contraption I sit in between you and the door. I back up, lock the door and bingo. Seems unlikely Noki will be coming to your rescue or to save Vera. Now what? Maybe I have a gun?”
Hannah was nonplussed by the turn of events and had expected this kind of testing and probing of her security precautions and was fully prepared. Noki had moved to the adjacent suite the night before under an assumed name and had heard the entire conversation from the first knock. She was armed and moved quickly into Hannah’s room from next door as the last words departed the man’s mouth.
Noki was under clothed as she stepped in the adjacent room, gun drawn. Obviously fit; everyone noticed. They also paid somewhat greater attention to the 9mm Glock that was leveled at the intruder, which engaged George’s attention to Noki more completely than her state of undress.
“Why George Armstrong Lee. Still peeping at little girls in their underwear? Stalking for dollars? Don’t tell me Edward brought you on board on our little project?”
“Yes, he did. I’ll be helping as a “permanent” in London when you get to your new home. Eddie thought a little test would be fun. Just to see if we’re all on the same page.”
“If I hadn’t been cautious, you might be dead right now. Next time you will be.” Nocera Lee wasn’t kidding and George felt what he could of a chill running down his back.
George Armstrong Lee had an American sounding name but was an Israeli by birth. Ex-IDF and ex-Mossad, he had been wounded critically on a mission in Iraq, gathering intel on Saddam’s plans to invade Kuwait. He got out alive but had been shot up badly. He spent months initially recovering in Israel then was sent to Bethesda in the US for additional surgery. They worked miracles for him but not the one he wanted most. They were unable to repair his spinal injuries. George would never walk again.
“Perhaps,” he said evenly, “But Noki wouldn’t have shot me, would you luv?”
“I would and with great pleasure you miserable old fuck. Don’t ever test me again like that. I promise you next time, it will be fatal.”
“Now, now, Noki. Still bitter about Amsterdam, are we?”
“You know my orders, George. Don’t fuck with me. You’ve now been warned for the last time.”
Hannah said, “And that wraps this whole debacle up in a bow. George, goodbye. I suggest you leave right now while you still can, wheelchair or not.”
“But I …”
“Shut … up … now. Turn around, do not utter another word and go wherever you wish. If you understand, nod once.”
George began to speak. Hannah said, “Uh, uh. Not a fucking word. Nod if you understand, then get the fuck out of my sight before I take Noki’s gun and kill you myself.”
George stared at the young woman but allowed Hannah to move to the door to allow him to leave. She continued, “If you ever try that again or test my authority with or without Edward’s approval ever, I will cause you so much pain you’ll beg for death. I shit you not. Now go before I change my mind.”
He left.
Then he called Edward with his full report. Ten minutes later he was on his way to the private jet waiting for him at the small executive airport just outside of Edinburgh. He would be in London within the hour and in his new rooms at the Loft one floor below Hannah and Vera an hour or so after that.
“Your impression, George?” Edward asked. “How did she react?”
“By all rights, I should be dead. Thank you very much for letting me meet another mate from your merry band of psychopaths. Where did you dig up this one? Rikers?”
“Nah. She used to date Adam.”
“Sweet. Next time warn me she’s from Psycho Central.”
“Was Noki round about?
“Yep. Half naked, packing a Glock, cocked and safety off. Not exactly how I wanted to see her again.”
“The Bentley boys?”
“Yep, round about. Stayed out of it as you asked. You know they would have pulled the trigger and asked you about me later.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well we’re all going to be unhappy these days. Get used to it; it’s bound to get worse. Way worse.”
“Call them,” Armstrong said. “They weren’t happy to be seen by your girl Hannah as out and about and nowhere in sight. Seems they have a soft spot for your two girls and are taking this thing pretty hard. Just a suggestion.”
“Will do.
***
Hannah texted Edward a brief note. Test me again like that and I’ll drop whoever you send, no questions asked. Then I’ll personally come after you.
The reply came. Had to test your readiness. Sorry. You passed with flying colors. I instructed the Bentley boys to stay away for the test. Just got an earfu
l from James. Quite peeved with me. Seems he’s worried you might think he was dilatory in his duties. Don’t be mad at them; they didn’t like this idea from the start. Now, finish up your interviews and get back to London. We have news.
Chapter 28
When every candidate had been interviewed, their resumes thoroughly vetted, and Hannah had given each the opportunity to get to know her and something generally about the other candidates being considered, it was time for final ranking by position. The top three applicants for each position, who would be immediate hires, were informed by special courier. The top candidates were asked to present themselves two weeks hence in London for orientation and initial assignments. The other two candidates were asked to report elsewhere for orientation with Edward.
Only Noki was assured of her status as second in command, not because her competition was intellectually inferior or lacking in relevant experience; certainly, in some respects they were as or over qualified. But Hannah was simply less comfortable with Noki’s two other job competitors given all the circumstances and personal requirements. She didn’t want an employee who felt secretly that he or she was better qualified than Hannah for the big job; neither did she want a smart “yes man” who couldn’t be relied upon to speak truth to power. Noki had worked with Edward on a few other occasions and was a graduate of the “University of Edward”. Not only that, Noki liked the guy.
Hannah wasn’t stupid; she had reasonable grounds to suspect that Noki might report activity back to Edward and some of that reporting might even contradict Hannah’s own account of an event. Or Noki might report back other personal information that Edward might request. Noki, however, could not have divided loyalties and be on Hannah’s team. Hannah would address the issue with Noki before leaving Edinburgh.
Hannah’s second choice for Noki’s job was Naomi Miller, the ex-CEO of a successful internet logistics and information management start-up, who had become wealthy at an early age. She was uninterested in returning to the corporate world she no longer found challenging and was instead now looking for a long-term project that ‘mattered to her and the world’. Hannah felt that Naomi was significantly over qualified to be her number two; Naomi seemed to agree. Hannah was sure she didn’t want her anywhere near the Project, but even as a distant second choice, Hannah still wanted access to her knowledge and brain. Hannah suggested to Edward that Naomi might be better suited coordinating key conduits of information between Portland and London. Naomi could have her own staff, be accountable only to him and Adam, and probably work flawlessly in that environment. “Not my cup of tea,” was Hannah’s only written comment.
Translation, Naomi could be posted anywhere other than London. “She’s a talent, Edward. But I’d fire her on day one. She’s as arrogant as you or Adam and it makes no sense to have her around my London team.”
Kimmi Preston Park was Hannah’s choice for the field anthropologist. Ten years older than Hannah, and vastly more experienced and well published than Hannah would ever be, Hannah was simply overwhelmed by the depth and quality of Kimmi’s resume and her extensive experience and field work. Like Noki, Kimmi was also a graduate of Ed U, but unlike Noki, Kimmi had little to say about Edward that was either positive or negative. She did however recognize the value of the association with the Institute and Edward, but when asked why she wanted the job, she tonelessly replied “He promised I would never get another opportunity like this again for the rest of my life. Edward may be a clinically insane asshole at times and is almost certainly a sociopath, but he isn’t a liar. At least not about anthropology and my career. He’s been good to me. I owe him some. Actually, I owe him a lot.”
Kimmi was no social butterfly; she was happiest in the field and didn’t relate well to anyone who wasn’t involved in some branch of anthropology. She made an exception for a man she had worked with off and on for many years but with whom she was not intimate.
Murden Wills was a fellow recluse, human oddity and a man few ever took the time to get to know. Murden could speak but he did so infrequently, preferring instead to allow Kimmi to represent him in any matters related to work. He worked in personal security and was said to be seventy percent puppy dog, ten percent pit bull and twenty percent pure mean. Murden was loyal and smart and immensely talented in finding and neutralizing danger for his clients before anyone was even aware that anything was wrong.
Murden was mechanical, savvy in the world of digital technology, a fast learner of any information with relevance to keeping his client alive. He had been called a borderline autistic genius, meant as a compliment, but he was neither. Murden was emotionally even, bright and eager to learn. But his field of vision, his scope, was very narrow. A few of his past employers had complained that Murden would refuse tasks he was asked to do if they didn’t meet his own internal standards. His answer to that question from Hannah was, “I don’t do stupid shit. Ask Kimmi. If she says I should do it, I will.”
Hannah asked Murden if he would have any trouble doing as she asked, no matter how stupid it seemed to be. His reply was satisfactory. “Kimmi said Dr. St. James picked you to be the boss, so I should do whatever you tell me. Dr. St. James is important to Kimmi, so I will do everything you say.”
“Because Kimmi said so?”
“That and Edward scares the fuck out of me. I took this job because of Kimmi but I work for you. Just don’t put Kimmi in any unnecessary danger; my job is to keep everyone safe and understand what we are about to do next. Once I know our project, team and residence well enough, I will construct the security walls and parameters that will keep us safe. Technology, physical environment, travel, communication, security and privacy. I will be armed always and Edward tells me that my priority, along with protecting Kimmi, is to keep you and your friend Vera alive. I will discuss the plan with all our crew, and Vera, and we will stick to that plan. You’re my boss but I’m in charge of your safety and our collective security. Do as I ask and we’ll all get through this alive. I can promise you that.”
“May I ask you a personal question?”
“About?”
“Kimmi.”
“No. Move on.”
***
The last two hires were a package deal, the only matched pair to get though Edward’s vetting process.
Candace “Candy” Apple was the second and junior member on the field anthropology research team. Candy was in her mid-forties and a veteran of the US Army, stationed abroad for six years. She flew helicopters and became interested in anthropology while deployed to a country whose archeological treasures were in grave danger of destruction by extremist foreign elements. Candy assisted with security, flying in and out of various sites ahead of insurgents’ intent upon “cleansing the nation of idolatry and wicked foreign influence”. Seven archeologists had been murdered by the group, but ideology had little to do with their main issue. The archeologists had been foolish and refused to pay the group a pittance to provide additional “security” for the site and the dig.
The friendly host nation had asked for assistance from the United Nations to protect their national treasures but only the US government responded when it learned that six of the seven men murdered were from National Geographic and Americans. The seventh was employed by the Smithsonian Institute and thus it became a federal matter of national interest.
The assignment was designed to be of limited duration but concluded some six years later. After her stint was up, Candy went back to school and finished her education at San Diego State. A Master’s degree was as far as she got academically before the “call of the dig” took her back in-country. There she met a strange cat named Edward St. James, his two sons and one of her old friends.
Candy had met Ogden Meadows Medlow, a reformed thief, burglar and general overall ne’er do well she had become chummy with during one of her overseas tours. Ogden was a tall wiry Brit, ex-army, and a little cocky for her taste in men. But he was massively good looking, tough and knew his way aroun
d the female anatomy. He certainly wasn’t the love of her life, but she didn’t care one wit. As between satellite internet and Ogden Meadows Medlow, she knew where she would prefer spending her down time.
Ogden had run afoul of the law while attempting to fence stolen artifacts in London that were from an active Mayan archeological site in a remote quadrant of Guatemala. He hadn’t stolen anything himself, he was “merely acting as an intermediary putting a willing buyer together with a willing seller.” How could he have known the artifacts were stolen? The paperwork was all in order, though counterfeit, and both parties were well heeled and seemed legitimate.
Ogden was in a scrape until a gent named Edward St. James appeared one day in his solicitor’s office at a London High Street law firm. The American seemed to have a lot of background on him and was proposing an alternative to serving three to five years in a British prison. In return for paid service, Ogden would be diverted to a different fate, one that would regularly take him out of the Realm and back overseas with his friend, Candy Apple. Was he interested?
As his choices were pretty much none to non-existent, he readily agreed. Ogden was discharged from all criminal conduct allegations a week later and signed his take-it-or-leave-it contract with Edward that very day. Edward couldn’t guarantee that Ogden would be working with Candy straight away, but he agreed to push Ogden’s credentials forward with his potential new boss.
Candy then contacted her buddy Ogden and they agreed to put themselves forward as a package deal. He would become driver, additional security and pseudo spy for Hannah and would assist Murden in protecting Hannah’s crew. His familiarity with all things anthropological was a plus, as was his excellent working relationship with another team member.
Candy wasn’t the badass she had once been and could no longer “whip any guy in the bar” but her muscle memory was still sufficiently intact that she could defend herself, and others, on the team.
Discovery Page 83
