THE SEVENTH EVENT

by Phillip Shaw

  ‘Magister Massaro? Are you in there? Have they got you, hostage? The other agents are missing. We cannot get them on comms if you are in there open up? There's been a firefight outside, the receptionist is dead and the one who fired on us is down and bleeding badly. Please open the door we can't access it from here it's on lockdown.'

  We're in a panic room. Kim realised. Clyne still had his gun trained on the door. ‘They can't get in, this is a panic room. The receptionist must have triggered it before she was killed.' She watched as he immediately set the gun down. He was like a machine piece to her. The first sign of danger he had switched on and now he returned to his cold persona. How were they going to get out?

  Arbitan relaxed lifting the gun from the chair he set it on he handed it back to Clements. He was immensely pleased with how this had gone, the only problem were the agents in the hall. He knew before long they would be calling for reinforcements which meant he faced capture or exposure. His speech earlier would no doubt have alerted people to his rebirth but they would only be guessing which form he had taken. The real pleasure in this came from his new protégé. He looked at the perfection before him. She was beautiful, in a world where youth was held up as the pinnacle of beauty this woman had it all. The body was strong, lithe and powerful, she had been as receptive as his own host's body had been now he remarked at the complete transformation taking place before him. Gone were the nervous looks he had received from her when flashing a smile, these had been replaced by the look of subservience. He had opened her up to a font of untapped power and she still knew he was the leader. Now she had noticed that they were in a panic room and Arbitan's mind did the calculations. Every hostage scenario was at his fingertips but they all ended the same way, the hostage takers were killed sometimes the hostage died as well. What the ones outside didn't know in this case lay at his feet in the body of Massaro.

  ‘There must be a way to view them.' He said searching the pristine white room, Clements began searching also but it was Arbitan who found it, under the fish tank there was a small switch, flipping it a screen descended when the image appeared he saw the agents outside. Both male both large and with Special Forces movement traits. The receptionist had been killed by random crossfire, Janice was lying on the ground with a stomach wound, the pool of blood around her did not bode well. Clements gasped when the camera panned round to her colleague but to Arbitan's surprise, she remained composed. ‘How are we getting out? Can I influence their minds as well?' she asked.

  ‘No, I fear these agents are aware of what you can do. We are going to have to use our knowledge. There are two agents outside and two of us, we will have to let them in and deal with them, from there we need to cover our tracks and secure our position, if not in this building then somewhere else. Cover stories will need to be arranged for Massaro and your partner. First, however, we need to kill these attackers quickly, I cannot risk their order discovering me so soon.'

  ‘I have an idea, they know you are a guest of Massaro, I am the only outsider in the room. Let them in. Give me the gun; bring the body over to me.'

  Clements went into the far corner, the room was completely flat, there was nowhere to hide, he watched as she grabbed her skirt and with a tug split it further to get more movement. She sat in the corner as he dragged the body over. She held the gun close as he draped the body on top of her the blood had stopped seeping from the face and it looked like he was simply unconscious.

  ‘Now let them in, play the scared civilian and let them rush over to me.'

  Arbitan went to the door and pressed the intercom.

  ‘Hello, it's Jason, he's hurt, she shot him and left. How do I open the door?'

  ‘We don't know, Massaro had the room built without our knowledge after recent threats, there must be a release somewhere, hurry.' The panicked voice behind the door screamed.

  Arbitan knew where the switch was; giving a nod to Clements he flicked the switch and sank to his knees. The two agents burst into the room weapons drawn. ‘Where is he?' one of them screamed, Arbitan didn't lift his head and pointed to the corner. The two agents saw the crumpled body in the corner and ran over. Arbitan glanced up just in time to see the agents fall, the weapon had fired four times, the agents had been hit twice each in the upper chest, and both were now on the floor incapacitated. Clements eased herself out from under the corpse and stood over the agents. Another shot into their heads ended the threat and she coolly walked over. He stood proudly as she picked her footsteps through the bodies and debris. Standing before him she looked him in the eye and smiled. He had his first general. He grabbed her forcefully by the neck; she didn't flinch as he pulled her face close.

  ‘You are with me and my name is Arbitan.'

  31. Into the dark

  The room was like a slaughterhouse. The white furnishings highlighted the blood and gore that now stained the floor. By triggering the panic room the receptionist had sealed down the whole floor. It was a stroke of luck for the pair now standing formulating their escape. The two dead agents lay beside each other their bodies looted for useful items, no sense of dignity prevailed. The pile of equipment was growing. Two guns both custom made, one an old western style revolver in modern black, the barrel slightly enlarged to give more damage the other a much more modern automatic pistol. Knives and tactical equipment were on the now righted table as the pair continued to scavenge supplies.

  Kim buoyed by whatever was now coursing through her took control with glee. Sifting Through the traceable elements and useful modern equipment she felt a sense of purpose. She had thrown her lot in with this man just at the taste of power, the mere hint of it and now she wanted more, but the difference was what was most intoxicating. She didn't want it for personal gain, this was all for the cause. She looked up at her companion. Since revealing his true identity the man known as Jason Clyne had taken on a mythical presence to her. The only word she could use logically to describe him was knowledge. Despite her fledgling abilities, she could feel the centre of power that was stalking the room beside her. She could feel the impatience, the desire to be advancing the plan. It didn't irritate her, it invigorated her.

  ‘We need to move my lord. What's next?'

  ‘It's simple, there are a number of approaches to reach the end, percentage wise they all start the same, we need to do things in silence. Contingency of this Hutchens story will serve us best until we can establish a force.'

  And there it was, the plan, Kim marvelled at him, it was just right. Like a maths equation, there were many ways to reach the answer but there was only one answer. There was no point in her suggesting what to do, where to go or anything like that, she would be called when needed. The choices had already been singled out and evaluated. He Knows. She wondered why he had let her take the lead in the previous encounter. It was only a test. It was only the first test of her belief. There would be more to follow.

  Arbitan had no need to monitor his companion she was more than capable of doing the simple task he needed to clean this place up and set his infrastructure in place. She would need to learn control. First, they needed to get out of detection range, the order would surely be sending more agents here once they learnt of Massaro's death not to mention the agents that were incinerated downstairs and their colleagues being picked clean in front of him. The ideas and possible outcomes swirled in his head, the percentage play revealed itself. First the clean-up.

  The bodies picked clean Arbitan grabbed Kim by the shoulder. ‘It's time for a lesson. Tell me can you feel anyone else in the building?'

  Kim stopped she had immersed herself in the task before her now she stopped and took stock of the situation. The white clinical room was like a butcher's slaughterhouse. The blood from Massaro and the two agents was smeared and in pools on the floor, looking out into the reception area she stopped. The body of her friend was still lying there; gunshot wounds were prominent on her large chest. The first was clearly from the modified revolver the huge exit wound on her back meant th
is was the killing blow. She wandered over in a daze to look down on her. She had been a symbol of her old life, her rock for these last years and now she had been taken away by a shadowy group when they had only come here to eliminate someone from their enquiries. It was not the end she deserved. ‘You know what? You're right, this world needs to be cleaned up. Look at her. She was a decent person, someone who struggled all her life because of her size. Men treated her like a circus freak, a bet to tell their friends about. She was better than me, why did you not take her? She could have been the warrior you needed.'

  The man stopped pacing and came over beside Kim, setting a hand on her shoulder he spoke softly. ‘Everything you have said is correct, but tell me this, why did she defer to you? She saw the ability in you. You are a leader, you are meant to help me win this war. What I am going to ask of you soon is difficult. We must dispose of all these bodies, formulate the back stories then you must plant the seeds in the minds of the people in this building. Now come, can you feel anyone?'

  Kim pushed his hand away and stepped over the dead receptionist's body to her seat. Sitting down she concentrated and quietened her mind. Then it came like a rush, she could hear all the thoughts, some closer than others the pain of them all speaking at once started to put pressure on her and she felt blood trickle from her nose. She looked up to Arbitan for help but he just stared at her. ‘Be stronger!' he said unsympathetically. Slowly she stopped hearing it all as noise and began to concentrate on individual thoughts, filtering out the background noise. Kim realised they were all on the floor below, ten different inner thoughts were broadcasting into her head at once. She narrowed it down to the floor supervisor. She felt the thoughts clearly now. The rush of pain and inner monologues that had hit her like a hammer when she opened her mind was now gone and she had a clear stream of thoughts coming into her mind.

  Massaro wants me to keep the Clyne story the main focus. I incinerated those big bags of mail like he asked. They were heavy but he told me to do it.

  Kim felt the thought and twisted it ever so slightly. There is more mail up there. We need more bags brought up then we will get more staff to take them downstairs. We will need the burning bags; the mail will have sensitive personal data in it. The bags will burn as well.

  The thoughts went silent as the supervisor began to act instead of think. The bags would be brought up. Kim and Arbitan began to put the office into some sort of order, the tables were placed back the way they were, luckily the bullet holes all were on the back black wall. They were virtually invisible to the naked eye. The four bodies were dragged into the room and they waited for the sound of the elevator.

  The supervisor and another member walked in with the trollies and mail bags. Kim took a back seat and listened as Clyne explained that the Police officers and Massaro were going through Hutchens' old financial records. She intercepted another thought. Where is the boss? Why is he not giving this order? Again she manipulated it with ease, it doesn't matter, and they all outrank us. We are just the numbers in this organisation. Kim was amazed at the ease with which she was doing this. These were high ranking executives in a Manhattan office block. They spent their days giving out orders and their nights drinking cocktails and bragging about it. She had hated the whole culture of them when she had to investigate one of them. Now here she was manipulating them like they were hypnotised, children. Arbitan came into the room and dropped the bags. The thick black bags were as close to body bags as Kim had seen, zip one of those up and you are into the darkness forever.

  Kim took Janice's personal effects from her and anything of use. Her gun was tucked into the back of her skirt and her badge in the pocket. They would need to dispose of that carefully. Luckily Janice was another with no family. The only one who depended on her was her cat and, of course, Kim. She stifled a tear as she pulled the zip up on the bag. There was no time for this anymore she was a soldier in a secret war. Like any war there were casualties. She looked over for Arbitan. She saw him walking into Massaro's office. Five minutes bagged up the other bodies then she walked in behind him. The ostentatious nature of the room clearly belonged to Massaro. It was in stark contrast to the clinical white room that was next door. The marble and mahogany were here in swathes as was a huge video wall and hi-tech looking computer terminal. Arbitan was busily typing at it. His hands moved over the keys with great purpose Kim could have sworn he was a pianist. With trepidation, she asked, ‘What are you doing?'

  Without moving his head or stopping the frantic typing he started talking. ‘I have hacked into your police department database; I have marked Janice down for some emotional leave. It should work, the department psychiatrist has signed off on it. Then when Janice doesn't return the medication I have subscribed her will make the logical conclusion suicide. You will be a bit more difficult. Your chief of police has just authorised you to go deep undercover to investigate the death of Hutchens. If anyone looks into your records they will be frozen out at his request. It means we will have to pay him a visit. Finally, I have arranged a press release from Massaro. Unfortunately, he will have contracted cancer. He will step down from the running of this organisation to have his treatment back in his native Italy. The key to all this is the company Blaincorp, I hacked into their internal servers and all the news stories were there. I just placed these stories in there and so the seeds have been planted. The interesting thing will be if these seeds are allowed to grow any further or will they be replaced by manufactured stories. That will tell us how far this order can reach. Now I have left a Trojan worm virus on this database to delete everything from these servers and send it via every ISP across the world and back to your personal email address. The key to getting this information is now with you.' Kim watched as he hit enter on the keyboard and the screens around her died within a few seconds her phone vibrated in her pocket. Taking it out she saw one new email received.

  ‘How did you do that?'

  ‘It's not hacking when you know how everything works. Now come on, we have to go to your apartment then to the chief of police. There is much to be done. I would suggest leaving vague misdirection in the minds of the people you now control in this building. We don't want to be followed.'

  The directness was pleasing to Kim, nothing was left to chance, the need for her to make any sort of meaningful decision had been removed. It was almost a stress reliever. The orders were given to dispose of the mail bags and they took their haul of equipment in a holdall on his back. The walk through the lobby was so different to earlier. Kim could hear the random thoughts of those she controlled. Each thought she intercepted she manipulated into a different version of the day's events. The description of Kim and Janice changed in each one. There was no need to worry about the CCTV the virus had melted the hard drives. The only thing that worried her now was the battle ahead, the only thoughts she heard were the staff members wondering why their servers were playing up. The man walking behind her had all the answers in the world.

  32. My Big Break

  Jenny Darcy stood in the restrooms looking at her reflection in the mirror. The palatial restrooms were out of context with the ultra-modern lobby of the Massaro building. The only thing missing was an attendant; in every other bathroom like this there was a robot to give you a mint or a spray of perfume but here there were just the beautiful surroundings. Jenny had been standing collecting her thoughts for the last ten minutes. Again and again, the same speech went through her head.

  This is it. You've made it. The big break. How does it feel Jenny? It feels good. The years sitting being the lesser sibling, being the office nobody are over. You are here at the epicentre of a breaking story and you have free reign to make copy for the biggest independent news agency in the world. So again Jenny how does it feel? It feels good.

  She stared at the face in front of her, never one for self-confidence when away from her keyboard she had been unable to seriously take a compliment since she was young. Men throughout her life had complimented her on first seei
ng her then after she dismissed it had moved on to others. The face in front of her still didn't look good enough to compliment. She was pale, deathly pale from lack of sleep, her lipstick was dark red and her eye makeup heavy. The grey business suit she wore added to the pale persona that was so fashionable right now. So fashionable right now was one thing but Jenny thought she looked like an extra from a zombie flick. Despite this, there was nothing she could do. Her cameraman said she was the most photogenic debutant he had ever worked with, again a compliment ignored. She took one last look in the mirror.

  The big break. You can't mess this up. You have to do it for yourself. You have to show Thomas Blain how good you can be. He will reward you for this. You will be able to reach your correct position in life. My correct position? I don't even know what that is anymore. I used to want to be a journalist. A proper one, get scoops and put my point of view across. Now I have it all in front of me in this story and I'm still thinking about Blain. I have to go, do this right I achieve both goals.

  Walking out into the lobby she looked for the receptionist she had been talking to earlier. The interview with Jason Clyne had been communicated as a necessary one for the piece. The exclusive would be the selling point in Blaincorp's coverage of the worldwide story and again she thought it was rookie journo Jenny Darcy that had fallen into place to do this.

  The receptionist was communicating frantically with others behind the desk. Jenny walked over.

  ‘Excuse me, I have an appointment for an interview with Mr. Clyne, can you tell me how much longer he will be?'

  The receptionist let her happy façade slip. ‘look! All our systems have just crashed. I can't even dial the telephone to get up to that floor to find out what's going on. There are many things more important than catering to the needs of parasites like you. The building is falling apart!'