Occidis: Sophia Moreau, Book 1

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Occidis: Sophia Moreau, Book 1 Page 10

by Aisha Tritle


  “He’s fending completely for himself?”

  “Yes.”

  “They could’ve seen him plant the device.”

  “Well,” said Jonathan. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

  “I didn’t even tell him to turn off surveillance.”

  “Yes— “

  “Do you know what Norbert does to people who cross him? He kills them.”

  “Well, at least Davey would be dying for something.”

  Sophia launched her fist into the side of his face. It didn’t have much of an effect on Jonathan. So she did it again.

  “Wait a minute—“ Jonathan grabbed her arm.

  “You bastard.” Sophia kicked him in the stomach. She knew she had every right to be angry after what he said, but she didn’t know why she was this angry. She had no chance of beating him. But she didn’t care. Jonathan was doing his best to block her, but not harm her.

  “Stop this, Sophia.”

  She kicked the back of his knee, and he faltered enough for her to get him on the floor. Technique wasn’t important right now—all she cared about was expelling her rage. Sophia attempted to pummel his face. But Jonathan was beginning to put up a fight. They crashed into the table, and a glass fell off and shattered.

  “What’s happening?!” cried Benny as he rushed into the room, a steaming plate of pizza bites balanced on his left hand.

  “I need you to stop this,” said Jonathan.

  Sophia knew what he would do. He’d try to leave her incapacitated, momentarily helpless. But he wouldn’t hurt her. She grabbed both of his arms and twisted her thighs around his neck, choking him.

  Benny was staring, the plate of pizza bites in hand, mouth open in shock.

  “How could you do this—“ tears were streaming from Sophia’s eyes. She didn’t know why. She wanted to snap his neck.

  Jonathan was letting her choke him. Why was he letting her choke him?

  Thoughts kept swimming in Sophia’s head. Thoughts she couldn’t understand. Her thighs squeezed tighter and tighter.

  A scream behind her broke into her thoughts. It came from Benny.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  The pizza bites were all over the floor.

  “Sophia, stop.”

  It was Ilya. He set a hand on her shoulder. It was warm. The tension that ran through her veins dispersed. She let him pull her off of Jonathan.

  “You okay?” asked Ilya, his blue eyes filled with concern.

  Sophia hesitated before replying. “I don’t know…”

  Ilya pulled her in close, her face buried in his shoulder. “What did you do?” he asked in a low voice. But he wasn’t talking to Sophia, he was talking to Jonathan.

  Jonathan was sitting up. His face was flushed, but he was unusually calm. “I didn’t do anything,” he croaked.

  “You must’ve done something.”

  “I didn’t.”

  Benny cleared his throat. “Well,” he said. “Now that this domestic tiff is over…can I get you anything, Jon? An ice pack maybe?”

  “Just water.”

  “These people you hang out with, Jon, I swear…” muttered Benny as he scurried off to the kitchen.

  Jonathan got up and brushed himself off. “I told you to stay in the car.”

  Ilya glared at him. “Yeah, well, you should be glad I didn’t.”

  “Go back to the car, leave Sophia here.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “No, I’m not kidding,” said Jonathan.

  Ilya didn’t reply. He grabbed Sophia’s shoulders and pushed her back just enough to look in her face.

  “I won’t leave you, okay?”

  The words Jonathan had said to her in the plane filled Sophia’s head. She couldn’t trust him…but he was strangely comforting.

  She nodded.

  A disappointed scoff came from Jonathan. “Fool,” he grumbled.

  The laptop beeped loudly, and Benny rushed back in, water sloshing out of the glass he held. He handed it to Jonathan and picked up his laptop.

  “He did it,” he said with glee. “Your boy is fast.”

  Sophia brushed the remnants of her tears away and sat next to Benny on the sofa.

  “How long is this going to take?” asked Jonathan.

  Benny’s brow furrowed. “There’s a lot more data than I was expecting. Probably a couple minutes.”

  Jonathan glanced at the screen. “Is that bad?”

  “Nah, it’s fine.”

  Ilya was standing across the room, his arms crossed. Sophia noticed he was carefully watching Benny. He seemed…suspicious. Then again, he was suspicious of everything.

  “You alright, Ilya?” she asked.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Benny was staring at the computer screen, his head resting on his hands.

  “We almost have it all.”

  A “100%” showed up on the screen, and a giggle escaped from Benny. “Perfect, perfect,” he said, beginning to type away.

  Jonathan leaned forward. “I need you to search for anything related to a meeting later this month.”

  “Won’t he probably have a ton of meetings later this month? This guy’s a billionaire businessman.”

  “Hopefully there’ll be something different about this meeting,” said Jonathan.

  “There are 35 different text and email conversations related to planning meetings.”

  “Are any of those group conversations?”

  “Two of them are.”

  Ilya cleared his throat and spoke. “Pull up the calendar on his phone.”

  Jonathan ignored him. “Keep going through the texts and email, Benny,” he said.

  “Are you sure, Jon? You might want to listen—“

  “Just keep going through the texts and emails.”

  Ilya strode over and stood in front of Benny. “Please pull up his—“

  Jonathan interrupted, “Don’t interfere.”

  Without a word, Ilya grabbed the laptop out of Benny’s hands. Surprisingly, Benny seemed to just…let him take it. Ilya’s fingers flew across the keyboard.

  Jonathan rose to his feet. “Set the laptop down, Ilya.”

  Ilya turned the laptop around. “Here’s what you’re looking for.”

  Sophia craned her neck to look at the screen. It was an appointment entry: 7:00 p.m. on June 22 at the Royal Hotel Tokyo. Only three weeks away.

  Jonathan focused on the screen. “How do you know?” he asked.

  Ilya pointed to a symbol next to the entry. “He uses symbols for important meetings, three different symbols for three levels of importance.”

  “So what does this symbol mean?”

  Sophia squinted; the symbol was very small, but simple. A circle divided into six parts.

  “That’s the thing; I’ve never seen it before,” said Ilya.

  Jonathan scanned Ilya; it was obvious thoughts were running a thousand miles per hour behind his green eyes. “So maybe he changed his system.”

  Sophia knew he wouldn’t give in to Ilya without a fight. She braced herself.

  “Why would he change his system?” asked Ilya.

  “Because you went off-grid,” said Jonathan. “You’re his nephew. You know things about him, and you’re free to take him down. He’s compromised. He’ll have taken precautions to make sure he’s one step ahead of you.”

  Confusion crossed Ilya’s face. “He explained his symbols system to me when I was six—I doubt he remembers or thinks that I do,” he said. “And he won’t be worried about me taking him down. Dr. Roth fed him some bullshit professional opinion on why I ran, remember?”

  Jonathan was silent. Sophia’s curiosity was piqued. “What was his bullshit professional opinion?”

  Ilya shrugged.

  “He said the boy had some sort of fixation with you,” said Jonathan.

  Sophia felt her cheeks starting to get warm. “What?”

  “He said Ilya was obsessed.”

  Sophia looked at Ily
a—his eyes were firmly fixed on the floor.

  “Probably isn’t too far from the truth…” muttered Jonathan as he turned back to Benny. “Cross reference any conversations with the appointment entry the boy found.”

  “There are three text convos, three email convos,” said Benny. “But names aren’t used.”

  “Can you figure out who he’s talking to?”

  “One minute.”

  The sound of Benny’s typing filled the uncomfortable lull as Sophia and Ilya kept exchanging awkward glances.

  “Unfortunately, the emails all trace to Uzbekistan,” said Benny, with a laugh. “I highly doubt whoever they belong to is Uzbekistani though. The phone numbers trace to individuals in Hong Kong, England, and New York.”

  “And they belong to—“ Benny leaned closer to the laptop screen “—Max Kwon, the number two richest man in Hong Kong; Sir Nathan Ransdell, net worth 4.3 billion pounds; and Mira Weisz, one of the most successful female investors in New York.”

  Jonathan whistled. “So we’re going against some pretty big fish.”

  “I don’t even wanna imagine who the emails belong to,” said Benny.

  “I’m going to need all this data, Ben.”

  “Just take the laptop,” said Benny, with a generous smile. “I have dozens.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  Benny laid the laptop in his hands. “And why don’t you all stay here tonight?”

  Sophia sighed in relief. If she could just go ahead and fall asleep on the sofa, that would be great.

  “No, no, we couldn’t do that to you,” Jonathan protested.

  Sophia frowned. “I think we should stay here,” she said.

  She looked at Ilya, expecting him to back her up. But his arms were crossed again, and suspicion was back on his face. So much for that.

  “We can’t stay here,” said Jonathan.

  Benny playfully swatted him. “Why not?”

  “We’ve got a safe house on the other side of—“

  “So? My house is safe. What are you afraid of?”

  Jonathan scoffed. “You want us to stay after we just made a mess of your living room?”

  “Remember, Jon, I’m used to the drama that follows you.”

  Jonathan’s green eyes narrowed, and despite Benny’s sweet demeanor, there was a challenge in his voice. “Are you scared, Jon?”

  Jonathan coolly held Benny’s gaze. Sophia studied them. There was an odd tension between them.

  “We’ll stay,” said Jonathan.

  15

  A faint burning odor pulled Sophia out of her slumber. Her eyes fluttered open. The smell was actually more than faint—but the house didn’t look like it was burning down.

  Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she rolled out from under the down comforter. The first light of day was shining through the window in Benny’s guest room. Somebody had probably failed in trying to make breakfast. Benny didn’t look like much of a cook.

  As she got up, she almost tripped over a body next to her bed.

  It was Ilya. Wrapped up in a blanket. Had he been there all night?

  He was still in a deep sleep. His golden hair was clinging to his face in messy waves. Sophia couldn’t help but stare at him. He looked strangely angelic.

  The burning odor was getting stronger. She snapped out of her thoughts and rushed downstairs. Sure enough, there was a pan burning on the stove.

  “Good lord, Benny.”

  She grabbed a towel, put the pan in the sink, and turned off the stove. It was amazing the smoke alarm hadn’t gone off. Looking down at the remnants of charred eggs in the sink, a chill ran down Sophia’s spine. Where was Benny?

  The kitchen was empty. Sophia took one of the knives out of a nearby knife block. Benny was fine…probably. She cautiously stepped into the living room.

  “Hello, Sophia.”

  Her stomach dropped.

  “It’s been a while,” said Lund.

  He was sitting cross-legged on the couch, impeccably dressed in a gray suit, a pistol in his hand. His hawk-like countenance surveyed Sophia calmly.

  “Now, I don’t know if you need encouragement to come back to us,” he said. “Norbert and Dr. Roth don’t seem to think so.” He leaned forward. “But I think you do.”

  Benny was sprawled out in front of him, unconscious. A tranquilizer dart was in his neck. Lund nudged him with the toe of his patent leather shoe. “So here’s encouragement number one: you come with me, and I don’t kill this fellow here.”

  Sophia tightened her grip on the knife, but it was starting to slip. Her hand was shaking.

  Lund pointed to the window behind him. “Why don’t you go take a look?”

  Sophia didn’t want to look. But she was peering out the window before she knew what she was doing.

  A black Escalade was outside. Two handlers Sophia had seen around BASE before were leaning on the hood. Rosetti and Stark, both stocky slabs of middle-aged muscle. Stark was as cold and mechanical as Lund, but Rosetti? Rosetti was the slimiest bastard of them all. He had a propensity for crassness and a penchant for young girls. Sophia looked down at the cami and shorts she was wearing. She wished she was wearing…more clothes.

  “Encouragement number two,” said Lund. “If you come with me right now, I won’t kill the man sleeping next to your bed.”

  Sophia shuddered. So he’d been in her room…but he hadn’t said anything about Jonathan. Where was Jonathan? She shifted her gaze to where they’d parked the SUV last night; it wasn’t there.

  There were two options: try to kill Lund, and probably get her and Ilya killed in the process—or she could leave.

  She ran her thumb over the handle of the knife. She desperately wanted to drive the sharp blade deep into Lund’s chest. Yet, she couldn’t.

  Quietly, she set it down. Her hand had stopped shaking. She would go. But not before she asked some questions.

  “Why do you want me?” she asked.

  Lund was taken aback by her calm demeanor. “You belong with us.”

  His voice was insincere. Sophia sat down inches away from him. The closeness threw him off, and Lund shifted uncomfortably.

  “Why do you want me? Why not Ilya?” asked Sophia.

  Lund’s eyes were shifting back and forth, searching for an answer. “Ilya’s gone off the rails,” he said. “But you’re still an asset.”

  “Really? Because it seems they thought Ilya was the more valuable asset.”

  Lund scoffed. “That was before he up and took you.”

  Sophia deliberated her next tactic. It was risky. It was probably better to ask in the car. But Rosetti and Stark were there. Any power she had over Lund would evaporate once they stepped outside the house.

  “Why not take us both?”

  Lund shot a panicked glance toward the stairs. He was scared, but of what? “Look,” he said, voice low. “They just said it was important to bring you back, alright?”

  “What did they say about Ilya?”

  A bitter laugh escaped Lund. “Where does this confidence come from?”

  Sophia stayed silent. It worked.

  “They said he didn’t matter,” he said.

  That wasn’t what she expected. Ilya was Norbert’s nephew and prize recruit for the last two years. They’d try to get him back, right? She couldn’t be more important than him…

  Lund waved the pistol at her. “Get up.”

  Sophia obediently complied and stood up. The handler looked at her with a grimace and grabbed a hoodie off a nearby chair.

  “Cover up. I’m not having Rosetti and Stark getting distracted and letting you escape.”

  Sophia pulled the hoodie over her skimpy nightwear as Lund opened the front door.

  “Alright. Out.”

  Sophia’s bare feet padded down the cement driveway. The two handlers by the car watched her closely as she neared them. Rosetti looked skeptical and shook his head as he opened the car door.

  They didn’t w
ant her. They thought she was useless. But that was fine. Their opinions didn’t matter. They were simply robots programmed to kill.

  “I guess orders are orders as stupid as they may seem,” muttered the slab of muscle as he slammed the door behind her.

  “What’d you say?” asked Lund.

  Rosetti waved him off.

  “Nothing, nothing…”

  “You just said we’d been given stupid orders.”

  Rosetti shrugged. “Yeah, but whatever, we’re used to it, aren’t we?”

  Lund’s large eyes narrowed. “Kneel down.”

  “What?”

  “I said kneel down.”

  “You can’t make me do anything, Lund. You’re not my—“

  A shot rang out.

  Sophia clamped her hand over her mouth. Rosetti lay on the ground, blood pooling around his head.

  “It’s a good thing the boss ordered that,” said Lund, as he let out a sigh of relief. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while. Haven’t you, Stark?”

  Stark calmly nodded his head but ignored the body on the asphalt. He lumbered into the backseat with Sophia.

  “I’m guessing that shot woke up Ilya, don’t you?” asked Lund as he started the car. “Why don’t you just hope we get out of here before I have an excuse to kill him.”

  Sophia looked out the window. There was no sign of Ilya. That was good…but the shot was loud…

  The Escalade took off with a screech down the street. Sophia pulled the hoodie tightly around her. The cold attitudes of the handlers seemed to freeze the air in the car.

  A loud popping sound met her ears, and the SUV swerved.

  “Shit,” said Lund, veering the car back into a straight line. As it ground along, Sophia realized the wheels had been shot out.

  Lund tossed a tranquilizer gun into the back seat.

  “Get him before Stark does. And don’t try anything—you shoot Stark, I shoot you.”

  A slight glimmer of amusement shown in Stark’s eyes, and he rolled down the window on the right side—an unfair advantage considering the rear right tire was the one shot.

  But Lund had just said she was important, hadn’t he? Sophia looked down at the tranquilizer gun in her hand. He wouldn’t dare hurt her.

  A shot from Stark’s gun rang out. With no pause for thought, Sophia fired a dart into his neck. A split-second later, a bullet grazed her wrist—sending the tranquilizer gun flying. Another bullet went into her upper right arm.

 

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