by Doug Welch
Paris leaped to his feet. “No!” His eyes darted around the restaurant tables. “I don’t know what I’ll do, but I need help.” He changed his expression to what he hoped was a pleading one. “Will you be here tomorrow?”
Samuel looked up at him. “Sit down Brian. I’m sure we can work this out.”
Paris worked himself up to a look of terror. “I need to think. I’ll be here tomorrow.” He kicked the chair over in his haste to leave the restaurant, and joined the street crowds, willing himself to disappear from the vision of any Shadows.
Walking into an alley, he joined Dani and Carlo who had observed the action from a small SUV with tinted windows. Opening the back door he entered the car and sat.
Dani peeked around the front seat. “What was that about? Why did you run from him?”
“I’ll explain later,” Paris said. “Did your brothers take out the Shadow?”
Dani shook her head. “No. They never had a chance.”
“Good,” Paris said. “It’s actually an advantage with this one, but they’d better improve with the next target. We might not be as lucky.”
“Well why did you leave so quickly?” Dani asked. “You ran as though the devil himself chased you.”
“I had a reason,” Paris replied. “He thought I was my twin and he was about to turn me over to the Borgia House.”
“That does not sound good, Paris,” Dani said. “What if the Borgias find that you are not the twin?”
“I have an idea,” he replied, “one that may give us another ally at the biotech compound and as a bonus, eliminate any doubt from their minds.”
* * *
Paris sat in the driver’s seat of the SUV with his hands on the wheel. Sitting next to him, Brian stared nervously at the restaurant. They didn’t speak for awhile, both immersed in their thoughts.
Finally Paris broke the silence. “I wish there was some other way, Brian. I never had a brother and if things were different...”
“I understand,” Brian said. “As long as I’m bound to the House you’ll never be able to trust me. It’s funny. Mom often told us we had brothers and sisters. She repeated it so often... After she and my brother died I fantasized about meeting you but not like this. I imagined another twin to take my brother’s place, someone who talked like me and felt like me...” He clenched his fists, his face an agonized twist of rage. “I hate the Borgias, but I’m powerless to do anything about it.”
Paris leaned across the passenger seat and popped the glove-box, drawing out two envelopes. Straightening in the driver’s seat he said, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you but I’ve never found the time.”
He twisted in the seat to look Brian in the eyes. “There’s a good possibility your mother’s death was no accident. The Borgias killed my parents and I suspect they killed your mother and brother. They may not have intended to kill your brother but your mother defied them and I know they won’t tolerate that.” He felt a little guilt in fueling Brian’s anger but to succeed he needed to motivate him.
Paris held the envelopes in either hand, extending one of them. “This has enough Euros to last for a long time. It also contains your American passport. You can take it and run. I’ll try to protect you and your father but you know how the Borgias are. They’ll hunt you for the rest of your life.” He withdrew the proffered envelope and extended the other hand. “This one contains a small memory chip. You only need to insert it in one of the computers in the compound. The program it contains will do the rest.” He stacked the two envelopes together. “Take both of them. You can walk away from the restaurant and throw away the chip or you can hide the money and let them take you to the compound. It’s your choice and I will not make it for you. Just know you have my support whatever you decide.”
Raw emotions washed across Brian’s features. Anger, grief, fear, they all sought dominance, finally settling on grim resignation. Jerking the door handle he spilled out of the car and disappeared into the crowds.
Starting the SUV, Paris drove back to Pozzuoli.
* * *
Paris studied the picture of the man he intended to accost; making sure the man’s name was fixed firmly in his mind. The accompanying documentation identified the man as a PhD who headed the Borgia’s research projects. He was an American.
Looking up at Dani he said, “This one visits the hotel often?”
Dani nodded. “He goes there to hire a prostitute. He does so once a week on Fridays and he seldom misses an engagement.”
“There’s always a Shadow following him?” Paris asked.
Dani nodded again. “So Carlo says. He used the camera to verify it.”
“What’s his name?” Paris asked
Cramer,” Dani relied. “Doctor Maxwell Cramer. He has a family, two girls.”
Paris studied the picture again, thinking. “How can we get to him? If he’s busy with a woman, he definitely won’t be in the mood to talk.”
Dani grinned. “I have an idea but I don’t think my brothers will like it.”
* * *
Paris sat in the hotel’s lounge as he watched the Borgia researcher check in.
Completing the process, the man left and walked to the elevators. Soon after, Dani approached the counter. She wore a white silk blouse and a tight black leather miniskirt that almost covered her rear.
Oozing sex from every part of her body, her legs were clad in black thigh high stockings that nestled in tall spiked heels. Several men stopped to admire the view, but she glared at them, warning them off. After a brief exchange with the counter clerk, she palmed a few Euros and passed them to him.
With one quick glance at Paris she walked toward the elevator. Paris followed her and Carlo joined him.
They entered the elevator but had to fend off a sudden influx of male passengers. The doors closed, leaving only the three of them as they ascended.
“What floor” Paris asked.
Dani leaned over and pressed six.
“I didn’t see a follower,” Paris said. “Maybe this will be easier than I anticipated.”
Carlo shook a finger at Dani. “If father finds out he will be very angry.”
Dani laughed and addressed him in a string of Italian.
“What did you say to him?” Paris asked.
“I reminded him of some of the women he has dated,” she replied.
Arriving at their floor, Paris stopped them before they stepped out of the elevator. Scanning the hallway he noticed someone lounging near one of the rooms.
He ducked back into the elevator and motioned to Carlo “Peek around the hall and tell me if you see anyone.”
Carlo stuck his head out and jerked it back, shaking it. “No one.”
Paris expanded his mind and reached the lurker in the hallway. Forming a pattern, he blocked his image from the Shadow then stepped out of the elevator. He moved silently down the hall toward him. Reaching him, he removed a syringe from his pocket, jammed in into the Shadow’s neck and pressed the plunger. The man toppled but Paris caught him before he fell.
Nodding to Dani and Carlo he motioned them to join him. Speaking to Dani he whispered, “It’s your turn.”
Paris and Carlo carried the Shadow away from the view of the door’s spy hole. When Paris nodded, Dani knocked on the door. There was no response for a few long seconds but suddenly the door opened wide.
Not giving the room’s occupant time to think, Paris rushed the entryway shoving the man back into the room. Carlo followed him, dragging the shadow by the feet. Once they were in the room, Dani closed the door.
The man fell back on the bed, a mixture of surprise and fear flowed across his face. He reached into his back pocket, withdrawing his wallet, and offered it to them. “Here. Take it all. Just don’t hurt me, I have a family. Please.”
“Dani, tell Carlo to watch the corridor for the prostitute,” Paris said. “Tell him if she shows up to pay her.”
He focused on the man lying on the bed. “Put you
r wallet back Doctor Cramer, we’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to help you.”
Chapter 29
A Bargain
Cramer’s eyes narrowed and then grew wide. “Brian?” he said. “No, you can’t be Brian. You’re Paris, aren’t you?–Paris Fox.”
“You seem to know more about me than I thought you would, Doctor Cramer.” Paris replied.
Cramer’s face grew anxious. “I know all about you. You and your sister. More than you might suspect.”
Appearing nervous, he sat up, sliding to the edge of the bed. “Why are you doing this? Once the Borgias find you’ve contacted me, you’ll bring disaster to me and my family. Is that what you want?”
Paris stood over him, keeping him pinned to the bed. “It’s the furthest thing from my mind, Doctor. And the Borgias won’t discover we’ve talked. I’ll see to it.”
Cramer pointed to the Shadow lying on the floor. “He’ll make sure they do and if he doesn’t report back they’ll become suspicious.”
Paris glanced to his side at the floor. “Oh, he’ll report the day’s events alright but they’ll be slightly altered,” he said.
Cramer laugh was bitter. “I know you’re an Adept, Fox, but you’re not as good as the House’s. They’ll see right through your fumbling attempts.”
“I think you’d better hope they don’t, Doctor.” Paris said. “It’s as much your risk as it is mine.”
“I think you’d better reconsider that,” Cramer said. “Think of this as a failed effort and withdraw while you still have a chance.”
“Not until you’ve answered a few questions,” Paris said.
Cramer appeared resigned. “Go ahead, ask them but make it short. And I can’t promise my answers will be honest ones.”
“Do you love the Borgias so much, Doctor?” Paris asked.
Cramer appeared surprised at the question. “Love them? God no! I hate them. But my hate is meaningless because they hold my family hostage. If I don’t do as they demand my children are in jeopardy. That’s why I think you should just leave me alone and get the hell out of here.”
“Well, if you hate them so much, how did you come to work for them?” Paris asked.
Cramer turned his head away, looking out the window. “My wife died several years ago from breast cancer, leaving me alone with two tiny girls to raise. When the Borgias asked me to take a job in Italy, researching breast cancer, I jumped at the chance. Of course, at the time I didn’t know it was the Borgia House. I didn’t even know about the Shadow underworld. I just thought I was working for a biotechnology company in Italy. Once I learned what I’d stumbled into, it was too late. My daughters are teenagers now but the Borgias threatened to turn them into vegetables if I don’t cooperate.”
“You know it’s an empty threat, Doctor,” Paris said. “If they did, they’d lose their chief researcher. They’re not likely to follow through.”
Cramer dismissed Paris’ comment with a wave of his hand. “On the surface I know, but I can’t take the chance. There are some of them that wouldn’t care. They view normal humans as some kind of animal. I can’t risk it.”
“What if I told you that I could remove you and your family from Italy and put you under my protection in Kentucky?” Paris asked. “What if I told you I planned to destroy the Borgia House and remove it as a threat for a long time, possibly forever? What would you say to that?”
“I’d say you should dump the hallucinogenic drug you’ve been taking,” Cramer replied. “The Borgia house is rich and powerful, way beyond your imagination.
“I have a very wide imagination, Doctor Cramer,” Paris countered “Once you’re a Shadow Adept, your imagination conjures all kinds of fantasies.”
Cramer had no reply.
“What do you know about my sister and my siblings?” Paris asked.
“A lot,” Cramer replied. “What do you want to know?”
The question stymied Paris. He wanted the answers to more questions than the time he had available. Asking the first question that came to mind he said, “What role did the woman Sybil play in giving birth to us?”
“She was a surrogate, implanted with almost fully developed egg cells. Her purpose was to have sex to complete the development and then bring you to gestation. She’s very good at that, I might add. Also her name’s not Sybil, that’s the name she used to seduce your fathers.”
His answer led Paris to more questions. Questions for which there was vanishing amount of time. He searched his list for the most pressing one. “Where are they holding Brian’s baby?”
A look of guilt crossed Cramer’s face. “In the inner-most room of the facility. I swear I had nothing to do with that, it was all the Succubus and Gerardo. They seemed to take pleasure in doing it. I told them it wasn’t necessary but they ignored me.”
Dani interrupted. “I’ve been timing it, Paris. We don’t have much longer.” She glanced at Cramer. “He seldom takes longer than this to finish with the whore.” She pointed to the unconscious Shadow lying on the floor. “You said you wanted to take care of the Borgia before we left. If you still intend to do so, we must leave soon.”
Paris grimaced. “Let’s hold off the questions for now, Doctor. I need you to do something for me. In return I’ll do something for you.”
At Dani’s statement, Cramer had blushed red. Recovering his composure he said, “It depends on what you can do and if you can succeed. Promises mean nothing unless you can back them up.”
“Oh, I’ll succeed,” Paris said. “But whether or not the success is relatively bloodless or very violent hinges upon you and your actions. I can’t promise if the success is violent that there won’t be collateral damage and that it might include you.”
He gave Cramer a small envelope. “In here is a note with directions as to where to take your family. Memorize it and then burn it. The people you’ll meet will take all of you out of Italy under my protection. Follow the instructions to the letter. The envelope also contains a small chip. All you need do is insert it in any computer within the company’s compound. The chip will do the rest.”
“What if I fail to use the chip?” Cramer asked.
“The offer to take you out of Italy still stands,” Paris replied. “But if you don’t use the chip you may not live to use the note.”
Chapter 30
Arrival
Paris waited for the Air France jet to taxi to the terminal. Unlike most major airports passengers disembarked from rolling stairways driven to the side of the airplane.
Spying his target descend the stairs, Paris pushed his way through the crowd to greet him. “Ali. I’m glad you could make it.”
Nodding in reply, Ali joined him, walking toward the terminal building.
Paris waited in the lobby as his friend migrated through customs and helped him with his bags after he emerged. “I have a hired car waiting,” Paris said. “We’ll travel to a villa where you can rest and have something to eat.”
In the car, Paris looked at his silent companion, wondering what he thought. Ali had not spoken one word since he arrived and Paris felt uneasy. Much hinged on Ali’s cooperation. The raid on the Borgia compound couldn’t succeed without his help. Sensing that the vehicle was not the place to start what could be delicate negotiations, he decided to wait until they arrived at the villa.
Relaxing on the plush furnishings in the villa’s common room, Paris sipped coffee and waited.
Ali sat his cup and saucer on the low coffee table and folded his hands. “My son has kind words for you and your family. He seems to be very happy in America.”
Paris paused with the cup halfway to his lips and sat it back in the saucer. “Doctor Mahmoodi is well regarded by our community. His wife, Alia is interested in becoming a teacher and has been given a scholarship for a local community college. In fact it’s my understanding your granddaughters excel in our local elementary school. I visited your son recently. He seemed very happy.”
Ali nodded but didn’t reply.
The silence stretched. Paris felt compelled to add more but held back, letting Ali make the first move.
“My true name is Faraz,” Ali said. “My youngest son is my namesake. The irony is...I have used the false name so long my real name sounds foreign to my ears. And as I’ve grown older and watched the world change, I see that nothing I’ve done has truly changed anything.”
Paris saw a man who had lost heart, a man who doubted his life’s impact upon the world and waited to die. He shook his head and leaned forward. “That’s not true, Faraz. I have a daughter who would never have been born without your courage and sacrifice.” He gestured to the west. “Edward travels the country with his wife, a wife he feared lost, a woman whom my daughter is named after. And my sister and Caesar have a new son.”
Leaning further forward to catch Faraz’s eyes, he added, “None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t used your strength and skill to make it so.”
“Can’t you understand that I want to be done with all the violence and fear, and make my peace with God?” Faraz pled.
Paris looked away, breaking eye contact. “I do. I was a soldier in Iraq, Faraz. I know exactly what you mean, but there are some evils in the world that cannot be tolerated. Perhaps God will forgive us because our cause is just.”
Faraz appeared to think about Paris’ words. Rising from the couch he said, “I will have to consider this. I will go to my room and later take a walk on the seashore. You will know my answer tonight at the evening meal.”
The men that Faraz had recruited were scattered in pairs in some of the various apartments and hotels in Solenzara, posing as members of a soccer team. In a pinch, Paris might try to organize them but without Faraz to lead and interpret for him, chances of success would be unlikely. He prayed that Faraz could shake his ennui and join willingly or the whole plan was doomed before it started.
Before Faraz left the room, he paused. “I do not want the others to know my true name. As far as they are concerned, my name is Ali.”
