Harmony bothered her. It was not only that the woman’s metahuman power was…unsettling. It was that she had come out of nowhere, and risen to this current position, bypassing most of the normal rungs on the ladder. What was worse insofar as Khanjar’s feelings of stability were concerned, she wasn’t the only one who had done so lately. Khanjar preferred things to proceed in an orderly, predictable fashion. Lately, Dom had been making moves she considered risky—first in hiring Harmony, then, more alarmingly, allying with the Chinese woman. That one was dangerous…and Dom refused to listen to her about the General.
Still…this woman was nothing like Shen Xue. She was not arrogant, she did not presume, and she didn’t hold herself as if she thought she was Verd’s equal—or superior. She knew her place; below Dom, and more importantly, below Khanjar herself. Harmony was a hireling; useful, but not valued beyond what she was paid to do.
There was nothing about Harmony that seemed to inspire Dom to take the risks he was taking with the General. Thank the gods. What was it about the General that so fascinated him, and made him reckless? There were moments when Khanjar even wondered if Dom was toying with the notion of…surely not. Surely he knew better than to try and replace her. Still…the idea was chilling. Someone who knew as much as Khanjar did could only be “replaced,” never “retired.” Dom’s usual generosity with his employees would not, could not, extend to a professional assassin who knew every detail of his security arrangements. But then…everything had changed since the Deva had visited him. Would it come to that; where he would sacrifice her to save himself? Of course it would. She harbored no illusions where Dominic Verdigris was concerned. He feigned “caring” very well, but when it came down to it, there was only one person of importance in Verd’s life, and that was himself. Everyone and everything else was just an accessory or a tool. She resolved to redouble her efforts at making herself indispensable.
The office door slid open, and Harmony entered with her escort; it was plain to see that the security guards were nervous around her, though they did their best to hide it. Strange. She had looked very, very American when she had been with ECHO; as if she could have been sitting behind the desk of a receptionist in any corporation, or been going to classes in any university. Now, however, there was something exotic about her. Her hair had been arranged in a loose fashion faintly reminiscent of an ancient Grecian statue, and the draped dress she wore only emphasized the resemblance. She appeared quite relaxed, even a little amused, and when Khanjar looked briefly into her eyes, she got the unsettling impression of great age.
“You sent for me, and here I am, Verdigris,” Harmony said, with an artful little gesture, with the merest hint of a bow in it. “What can I do for you?”
“Thank you for joining us, my dear. We have a great deal to discuss, but first let me compliment you on your handling of the last few affairs, and a bit of a surprise following the necessarily gruesome spectacle we had to make of Tesla. Very tidy, natural-looking deaths, I commend you.” Verdigris flashed his best smile, but Khanjar had learned to read his moods. He was anything but happy at the moment. The failure with the trap in Atlanta Underground was still haunting him. “Please, take a seat.”
Harmony did so, gracefully. Khanjar admired her dispassionately. There was nothing of the “old” Harmony about her, now; how had she managed feign naïveté, inexperience, the callowness of youth? She must be a superb actress. Still, she noticed a bit of steel in Harmony’s look as she gazed at Verdigris, betraying a slight irritation with the billionaire.
“Thank you,” Harmony said. “I do take pride in my work, after all. I gather this meeting is in regards to our arrangement? One final task?”
“Yes, of course,” Verdigris said with a smile.
“One final task, and the prize will be mine?” Harmony leaned forward, her eyes locked on Verdigris.
“Absolutely, my dear,” he smiled, though he spared a look up to Khanjar before continuing. “It appears we have some malcontents brewing revolution within our own ranks.”
“By which you mean ECHO, of course,” Harmony said smoothly. “And Dominic, please don’t tell me this surprised you, I know you are much too intelligent to think that you could simply walk in and take over an organization like ECHO without problems from malcontents.”
“Yes, well.” He sniffed, mock hurt playing over his face. “You would have thought that, as ineffective as Tesla had been since the Invasion, they’d at least have given me a chance before fomenting revolt. I would never have let the Mountain suicide so spectacularly, for one thing. Waste of resources. Well. They have been commendably cagey about it. Look here.” He pointed to one of the pop-up monitors that rose silently from the edge of the desk nearest to Harmony.
Her brows creased as she watched the data-stream scroll by. “Dominic, I’m not…particularly technically ept. What on earth am I looking at?”
“To sum it up, I’ve been keeping tabs on nigh everyone in my employ, particularly everyone in ECHO. As you said, these sorts of takeovers can be…tricky. From what I’ve been able to gather through a series of phone wiretaps, computer logs, and physical surveillance, I think it’s safe to say that there’s a small group of personnel that wish to oust me. And they might have found the means to do so.” Verdigris tapped on the desk twice, and all of the screens now displayed the same image; a scan of a paper document.
Well, it was a scan of something on paper. Whatever it was, it was completely unreadable. It was as if the scan had been taken while the letters were moving from one bizarre, alien language to another.
Harmony blinked. “How…intriguing. What is that supposed to be, do you know?”
Khanjar felt herself grow a little more alert. Harmony recognized that…or at least, recognized something like it.
“It’s supposed to be one of the original copies of the ECHO charter—the one that belonged to Yankee Doodle,” Verdigris replied. “If legend is true, all the original signers of the Charter got a copy.” He laughed a little, a laugh with no humor in it. “And if legend is true, they all had some sort of spell cast on them so they were—like that. You couldn’t read them, and you couldn’t use code-breaking techniques on them because the letters moved and changed all the time.” He frowned. “I’m still determined to fix that little problem with this image. An original would be much more useful…but that’s something for me to worry about. The point is, the conspirators are going after a copy of the Charter, and I think they might actually have one. I’m pretty certain who two of them are. Yankee Pride and Ramona Ferrari. Yankee Pride, well, he’s obvious. I ousted him when we took Tesla out.”
“Ramona Ferrari?” Harmony’s brows arched. “The detective? Why in heaven’s name do you suspect her? She’s nothing, not meta, not…attractive…oh, she has a certain rudimentary cleverness, but…”
Verdigris spread his hands wide. “One and the same. She’s just far enough below the usual radar, since she’s not an Op, and as a detective, she has a lot of latitude to work with in the rest of ECHO. That, and she’s annoyingly dogged in her pursuit of her goals. Normally a trait that I’d love in an employee, but this one isn’t the sort to be bought out by me.”
“Well, you seem to have figured out who your enemies are, and you know what they intend…why don’t you just eliminate them both and have done with it?” Harmony tapped a long, graceful finger on the side of her face. “I really don’t see what I can help you with here.”
Verdigris shook his head, smiling, as if he was correcting a mistaken child. “No, no, Harmony. I’m all about not wasting effort, and to kill them outright wouldn’t only be wasted effort, it’d also make martyrs of them. Not to the masses, or even most of ECHO initially, but martyrs have a habit of growing followings. What I have in mind is a bit more…artful. When we’re done—and I do mean we—their deaths will have served more than the singular purpose of securing my position as the head of ECHO. Are you beginning to understand?”
Harmony sighed. “Since Jack ma
de himself scarce, you want me to take over Blacksnake and engineer something suitably appalling for them. That way, once again, Blacksnake is reinforced as the villain, and you get to play the astonished and grieving Father of ECHO’s Children.”
“Not in so many words. I’ll certainly help you to make sure that it all turns out poetic and beneficial enough. But yes. Your reward hinges upon it, shall we say?” That shark-look, eyes shiny and black, that Verd’s eyes sometimes had, came back right then. Khanjar didn’t like that look, but she had come to expect it over the years.
“You hold all the cards. But Blacksnake is notoriously misogynistic, Dominic. Will your operatives take orders from me?” Harmony’s eyes were just as cold in that moment. “Or will you let me show they why they should?”
“You forget. The world runs on one thing; it isn’t strength, or fear, or power. It’s money. Money can buy and control all of those things. And no one has more money than I do. They’ll listen to you, Harmony,” Verdigris let the words hang in the air for a moment, “because I’ll tell them to. Agreed?”
She nodded. “Agreed. You might have to make some examples.”
The cold look vanished from Verdigris’ eyes, and he waved a hand dismissively. “Cost of doing business. I’ll attend to it if and when the issue crops up. I expect regular reports and will need to approve of any plans before they’re put into effect. Any other questions?”
Harmony laughed. It had a disconcertingly young sound. “Oh Dominic, how soon you forget. I am she of the hourly reports, remember? You had to ask me to make them less frequent on the last op.”
“Yes, well. Call me a stickler for the details when they’re important.” He gestured towards the doorway. “Be sure to help yourself to any refreshments in the anteroom on your way out. We’ll be in touch, Harmony.”
“I think I’ll leave via sub, considering the storm,” she replied, and rose. “And considering the storm…I’ll refrain from eating until we’re clear. Unless you count that charming receptionist as refreshments.”
He waved a finger reprovingly. “Good help is hard to find. It’s why you’re still here. Leave her be.”
She laughed. “Then I’ll just have to get some dockside take-away when we hit port. Ta-ta, Dominic. First report will be in your mail when we have net.” She rose as gracefully as she had sat down, and winked. “I’ll just see myself out. I know the way to the submarine docks.”
She made good on her word, and the door slid shut behind her. Verdigris waited for several long moments after the door closed before he turned to Khanjar, fingers steepled in front of his chest. “So, my dear. What’re your thoughts on how things are going to proceed?”
Khanjar pondered. “I can see why you did not place me in charge; you need me here with you. I can see why you did not place any of the current Blacksnake officers in charge; after the debacle at the Underground it is clear they are not competent to devise a good plan or follow it through. And the General…?” She left the words hanging.
“The General’s goals only coincide with our goals to a point. Beyond that, she is not with us. I’m glad you see this, Khanji.” She could tell that Dominick was expecting something from her now.
“Well…Harmony devised her own op, went underground within Blacksnake, then got herself placed in ECHO as a double agent, and remained completely undetected for…really, right up until the moment she had to reveal herself.” Khanjar pursed her lips. “I would have said that I doubted her ability as a leader until just now, but it is evident that she has many more layers than I had assumed, and she is intelligent, clever, and a superlative actress. Certainly she doesn’t doubt her own ability to lead. And I don’t think she is inclined to hubris. So I would have to say that of your limited choices, she is probably heads above the rest.”
“But?” There was still something that he was waiting for. He wanted her to reach the conclusion herself; it was important to him that she do so.
“She does not serve out of loyalty.” And neither do I, not anymore, but you don’t know that, do you, Dom, dear.
“It’s one of the most expensive commodities, and requires to be constantly purchased for potentially higher and higher prices. But, it’s valuable for that very reason.” He smiled again, self-assured. “Thank you, my dear. Are you hungry? I’m famished.”
“Chef Hudson probably has something special for you. You know how he loves storms.” She nodded to the door. “As ever, after you, Dom.”
Yes indeed, after you. And one of these days, if it comes to that, when you turn around and look, I’ll be gone.
You’re Only Human
Veronica Giguere and Mercedes Lackey
Ramona Ferrari couldn’t remember the last time she had been at her apartment to do more than sleep and exchange one ECHO uniform for another. She fumbled her keys in her hand and managed to unlock the door to her apartment. As she stepped inside, a faint blue overlay courtesy of the Overwatch system allowed her to do a brief sweep of the rooms. Icons blinked to show her the pile of mail on the counter, with the most important bills flagged as ‘due’ or ‘overdue.’ In the kitchen, icons popped up to remind her of what was and wasn’t in her refrigerator, what had likely spoiled, what she needed to have delivered from the grocery service that Vickie had recommended, and a list of vetted restaurants that could have dinner at her door in thirty minutes or less.
The amount of information overwhelmed the detective. The beginning of a headache throbbed at the base of her skull, and another panel of information came up with a list of her vital signs, potential triggers, and no less than four solutions. Ramona gritted her teeth and screwed her eyes shut. This was not a way to relax for the few hours she didn’t have to be on duty. With a curse, she turned off the HUD and kicked off her shoes, only to decide that she didn’t have the patience to put up with delivery food. She summoned enough energy to make it to the kitchen, pour a bowl of cinnamon frosted Ech-Ohs—she smiled at Mercurye’s cheesy grin on the front of the box—and slump at the kitchen table.
She didn’t bother with milk. According to the readouts, what was left in the fridge had spoiled days ago.
Ramona thumbed the TV remote and scanned to a small local station not affiliated with the bigger networks. Reality was ninety percent perception, and she wanted to see just how the lesser media saw Verdigris and his gesture of goodwill. As skeptic after skeptic voiced concerns about cost, aesthetics, proximity, and even the continuing failures of ECHO to address the greater rebuilding processes in the city, Ramona felt reassured that she wasn’t the only non-meta who saw the man for what he was. People on the street questioned the benevolence of a man so tied to his money, who relied upon an attractive female bodyguard, and who seemed to do things oblivious to the resources of a city so diverse as Atlanta. Even the news pundits wrinkled their noses when they spoke about the dedication and promised complete coverage.
With some satisfaction, Ramona realized that Spin Doctor had not appeared on this smaller station. She felt certain that Victrix would keep him out of Overwatch until the very last moment necessary, and she agreed wholeheartedly with that decision. The less people knew about the entire operation, the better.
“Ferrari, are you there?”
Ramona paused, her mouth full of cereal as Pride’s voice came through the Overwatch channel. Even in the confines of her own home, she couldn’t escape responsibility. “Yeah, Pride.” She swallowed and muted the television as the weather folks started to talk about the perfect day for the dedication. “What’s going on?”
“Logistics for the event.” His voice came in a whisper. “Verdigris called a meeting ten minutes ago, to start in an hour. Were you invited?”
She set her spoon down with a hard thwack and took a deep breath. Her phone on the counter flashed a small green light to show unread messages. She reached over and scanned through the list of emails, but nothing corresponded to a meeting with Verdigris and his bodyguard Barbie. “Negative, sir. Should I invite myself?” Even as she
asked the question, she stood and began gathering her things, putting the half-eaten bowl of cereal on the counter.
“He’s talking about other memorials to follow this one, including a plaque near Stone Mountain. I think it’s mostly just talk, but I know how you felt about Bill’s situation.” Pride sounded as if he was trying to keep his own temper in check. “How soon can you get here?”
It took a great deal of control for Ramona to not fling the bowl to the ground in frustration. She had left her car at the CCCP headquarters, trusting the Russians under Vickie’s direction to outfit it per the Overwatch specifications. That left the detective at the mercy of MARTA and the rest of the public transportation system to commute to the ECHO campus. “About forty minutes if I leave right now. If you can, tell Spin to flip to the local channels and figure out a contingency plan post-dedication. We’re losing face fast among the hometown crowd, and I don’t think we can afford it.”
A pause, then Yankee Pride’s voice rumbled in her ear. “Will do, detective. And thank you.”
* * *
The mandatory meeting of those ECHO personnel that Verdigris decided as necessary to his brilliant public relations demonstration sat in the small press briefing room. In the surveillance video, Dominic Verdigris gripped the sides of the podium and smiled at those assembled. The newer faces, handpicked from the faithful of Blacksnake and appropriately threatened by Khanjar, watched him with varying expressions of interest and curiosity. The others, ECHO faithful still mourning the loss of Alex Tesla, showed everything from fear to open hostility. Verdigris noted that Yankee Pride sat in the front row, gauntlets dim and his mouth set in a firm line. He chuckled with satisfaction as the man fought back a scowl.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I appreciate your being here on such short notice. As many of you are aware, the remembrance ceremony for what we have termed the Invasion will take place in less than a week, and it is imperative that you…” The speech stopped as the door on his left snapped open and an ECHO detective rushed in. Without any form of apology, she took a seat on the aisle and flipped open a small notebook.
Revolution: Book Three of the Secret World Chronicle - eARC Page 44
