by E. J. Mellow
“What? Am I supposed to take my cues from the ninja movies you obviously watch?”
That’s it. I’m going to kill him. But before I can reach for another blade, Akoni’s voice halts me. “3, the first set of guards have been found.”
Touching my ear, I keep my hateful stare on Simon. “Copy that. I’m done here.”
17
Carter
PEARL RIVER HOTEL
HONG KONG: 2402 HOURS
“Who are you talking to?” I ask, knowing she would never tell me but desperate to find clarity in this turd pile of a situation. Ploom will definitely be hearing from me.
“You better get out of here if you value your ass as much as I imagine you do,” she says as she moves to a computer in the corner, which appears to be a receptionist’s. “Your little paper trail has been found.” Her gloved fingers flutter rapidly over keys, bringing up video surveillance from cameras in this office. Quickly and easily she clears the memory. Damn, she’s smarter than I wanted her to be. Without looking back, she runs from the room.
Flickering a last glance at Kam’s body, I let out a frustrated huff before grabbing my abandoned gun from the carpet (ammo removed by the detail-oriented wench) and follow her out.
We both silently maneuver our way down the hallway and back to the open sitting room on the second floor. She approaches the balcony doors and throws them open. Hong Kong’s dark wind bursts in with a howl, the air cool as it slaps across my skin and filters through my suit jacket.
“Oh yeah?” I laugh. “And how the hell are you going to get out that way?”
She doesn’t say a word as she steps out, gracefully hopping onto one of the tables butting up to the banister. She’s an inky silhouette against the glittering skyscrapers, and I can’t help admiring her lean, muscular body that more than hints through her black cat suit. She unzips and attaches two sections under her arms and between her legs—gliders.
Twisting to look down at me, her blue eyes spark in the night. “Like this, honey.” Then replacing her face mask, she flexes one long gloved middle finger my way, before opening her arms and leaping off the ledge.
Disappearing into the night.
Well, fuck me.
It was a close call traversing my way down and out of Kam’s hotel before his security stopped anyone else from entering or exiting the building. I might have even needed to utilize a laundry chute, much to a few maids’ shrieks of surprise and my annoyance for getting my designer tux dirty, but despite all that I made it safely onto the Hong Kong streets. I know that shrew of a woman’s warning saved my ass, but I will absolutely not bring myself to internally thank her.
Goddammit!
Punching a metal security gate covering a shop’s entrance, I let out a growl, catching more than one nervous glance from pedestrians walking by. I resist growling again. I can’t believe I completely failed my mission. I’ve never failed before. Well, Kam is dead, but I didn’t even do it, for Christ’s sake! Shoving my hands into my front pants pockets, I continue stomping toward my hotel. Even at this late hour, downtown is bustling, lit advertisements flashing against the asphalt and illuminating the people as they shuffle about. But I take notice of none of it, my mind a gray storm of frustration, forcing those in my way to move first.
How did she know that Kam couldn’t be tortured? How did she know and COA not? And Eu-fùnh! How did she not know? Local expert my ass. They made me look like an idiot in there. I would have been torturing Kam for hours with no results if she hadn’t shown up and told me.
Nope. Don’t go there, Carter. Don’t give her an ounce of credit. Even if she did help, did warn me of the bodies being found. An image of her patronizing sneer flashes before me. Shit. I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone of the opposite sex so much. And I thought she was an angel. I snort, gaining more stares from passing strangers. Angel my ass. More like Satan’s spawn.
Running a hand through my hair, which must be in all kinds of directions by now, I replay what I’ve been able to deduce so far. She’s definitely no rookie, with her fighting capabilities and the way she methodically took those DNA samples. If I didn’t want to hate her, I’d actually be impressed, maybe even a little turned on.
Gross, Carter, gross. Satan’s spawn, remember?
I will not let any sort of reverence blossom for that woman. I mean, look at the way she killed Kam…with poison. Like a slimy reptile, a creepy bug.
Needles.
I shiver.
I’ve always hated needles. I can watch a man’s head explode from a bullet without blinking, but needles…yeah, she’s psycho for sure.
Memories of her completely in her zone, undeterred by both of us getting assigned the same target, swim before me. She made it perfectly clear she was getting her check in the box, and in the bank, one way or another. Which leaves me walking the streets of Hong Kong with nothing to show. Why didn’t I demand she give me a copy of his DNA too?
Shit. How did this happen?
I’ve never been so riled after a mission. And I’ve been outnumbered, cornered, standing on a ledge with nowhere to go, but in all those instances it was still me calling the shots, me getting my butt out of there. Not another Op telling me how inept I was at my job.
Is this your first target?
Holy crap sandwich, do I hate her.
Turning a corner, I catch sight of my hotel a few blocks away, the fifty-story sleek building shining white and blending in with the rest of the steel structures.
Drawing closer, I pull my phone from my pocket.
“Hello, darling.” Eu-fùnh answers on the first ring. “I ordered us champagne to celebrate.”
I let out a breath. “Well, I hope you haven’t uncorked it, because we have a problem.”
18
3
39,000 FT SOMEWHERE OVER ALASKA
SINGAPORE AIRLINES
Sitting in first class, Akoni snores in the separated bed next to me as I study a file. A file attached with a man’s face that will forever set my blood to boil in a mere instant. I’ve never met someone who has gotten under my skin so quickly and easily. And I’ve met a lot of really horrible and annoying people. Maybe because I’ve always been able to end their pathetic lives I’ve been able to move on with mine. No such luck here.
Glancing back over the legend, I read an Ops-claimed background, one that Akoni was able to procure before we left. Getting a facial scan on him was all too easy.
Name:Carter James Smith
Alias:Benjamin Nickels. Simon Andrews.
A.K.A:The Bull
Age:Thirty-Two
Height:6’ 3”
Hair/Eyes:Brown hair/ Green eyes
Family:Deceased. Father, Christopher Andreoli. Mother, Sophia James Andreoli. Brother, Simon James Andreoli.
Nationality:American. Italian descent.
Company:Covert Operations Agency (COA)
Status:K-Op. 8 yrs active
Training:Navy Seal, tae kwon do, Krav Maga, Muay Thai, karate, boxing, kickboxing, mixed martial arts, archery, advanced armed weaponry, Bomb disposal and detonation, Diving, Pilot license, advanced speed driver.
Weapon of
Choice:Custom S&W 1911s, Beretta 92.
Languages:English, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Mandarin, Cantonese, Portuguese.
General
Background:Born in Maryland Presbyterian Hospital as Carter James Andreoli. Son of Christopher Andreoli and Sophia James Andreoli. Joined army after high school. 2 yr active duty in Iraq. Same outpost as older brother, Simon James Andreoli. Brother to die in combat while Carter was posted in Iraq. Parents to die in car accident later that same year. Carter granted short leave of duty due to mental instability diagnosed by military psychiatrist, Dr. Peter Collins. Later funneled into special operations program where he showed remarkable abilities and quick growth. Recruited into COA August 2005. Been known to show slight reckless behavior and contempt for authority. Noted to be extremely dedicate
d and loyal.
I read over the part about his family again. It’s not surprising he has no surviving kin. People recruited into this business rarely do. The fact that one of his aliases is his brother’s name shows that he still holds those emotions close. At least I never knew my family to have to mourn them. I don’t remember anything of my parents, and I know I’m better for it. Less baggage.
As much as it pains me, I have to admit that his skill sets are impressive. Not as impressive as mine, obviously, but still nothing to ignore.
Akoni lets out a sleepy mumble, and I glance to his askew eye mask and drooling mouth, his dark hair standing cowlicked against his pillow. His current relaxed state is a far cry from how he was when I stormed into our hotel, demanding we find a picture of Mr. Lack-of-Tact and use it to gain whatever information we could on him. Now thirty thousand miles in the air, I’m looking down at a friggin’ colleague. His nickname, The Bull, is comically accurate after Akoni showed me the surveillance of knocked-out bodyguards left in his wake.
What a joke.
COA is a sister company to SI6, so as tempted, and close, as I was to killing him, I thankfully didn’t. That would have been a mess of meetings and debriefs that I absolutely have no patience for. COA and SI6 have been great public allies for years, though they privately compete vehemently. I wanted to scream at Axel when I called him for our status update. Our line wasn’t one hundred percent secure, so I had to hold a lot back, but I have a feeling he’s more than aware of my impending wrath since I made sure to slip in words like decapitation, castration, and bamboo rods.
I mean, come on. How could the companies be so stupid? To put us on the same target unknowingly. Aren’t they supposed to be the leaders in intelligence? Thinking back to meeting Carter at the gala, I should have known better. That woman, Jia, was too smart, too keen to be just another aristocratic woman in the world of Chinese businessmen and their egos. Who was she to Carter? Whoever she was, it was too obvious they were playing hide the cannoli. I’m sure he needs to be in someone every second of the day. No wonder his actions reflected a lack of blood to the head.
I let out an annoyed breath. The Bull indeed. Shutting the folder on Carter’s smug and annoyingly symmetrical face, I tuck it back into my bag. Reclining my seat, I try to relax by switching on a game of Scrabble. Eventually I cool down enough to close my eyes and get some sleep, but even as I’m about to drift into the dark, I can’t help the slithering feeling that all this is merely the calm before the proverbial cataclysmic, earth-ending storm.
19
Carter
HONK KONG: 2402 HOURS
Name:Nashville Brown
Agency Name:3
Alias:Victoria O’Hera. Stephanie Keller
A.K.A:The Wasp
Age:Twenty-six (disputable)
Height:5’ 7”
Hair/Eyes:Red hair/ Blue eyes
Parents:Unknown
Nationality:American. Scottish, Mexican descent (obtained from DNA swab).
Company:Special Intelligence 6 (SI6)
Status:A+ genome. K-Op. 6 yrs active
Training:Basic US Army combat training, Cyber Intelligence, Surma stick fighting, Taekwondo, Pencak Silat, Krav Maga, Muay Thai, mixed martial arts, archery, armed weaponry, bomb disposal and detonation, diving, pilot license.
Weapon of
Choice :Various Poisons, Hand-to-Hand Combat, Glock 17 w/ silencer, FN Five-Seven, tranquilizer pistol.
Languages:English, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Mandarin, Cantonese, Japanese, Russian, Hindi.
General
Background:Place of birth unknown. Found at the assumed age of four outside Nashville Police Department near James Robertson Pkwy, Nashville, TN. A+ Genome acquired. Parents unknown. Original name unknown. Given the name Nashville Brown at Bell Buckle Orphanage along with date of birth, January 1 1991. Recruited into SI6 at the age of 16. Skill set advanced. Spotless assignment completion expedited her to early freelance position within SI6. Freelance for past 2 yrs. Specializes in silent kills. Notes of being short tempered which usually accompanies A+ specimens. Otherwise considered a perfect operative.
The lights of downtown Hong Kong cut dramatic shadows across the dark and quiet penthouse as I sit on a couch glancing over her file.
Nashville Brown? What kind of honky-tonk name is that? I stare down at the picture of her annoyingly beautiful face and, screw me, natural apricot hair. I’ve always had a thing for redheads. Why did she have to be one?
I glance back to her status. So she’s an A+. A lot clicks into place now. I’ve only met two A+ humans, and both had similar hot demeanors. Neither had been so young though, or female. For some reason there are higher male mutations than female. As soon as I learned of their species when joining COA, I was immediately intrigued. They’re the closest thing we have to superheroes, and if the rest of the world knew of them, I can imagine the field day they’d have. An image of Nashville as an action figure flashes in my mind, and I grunt my annoyance.
Skimming back over her skill set and training, I hate that I’m impressed. Even with her genetic advantage, it’s still extensive, and at her age no less. I was just getting started in this business at twenty-six.
Flipping the file closed, I curl my hands into fists as I sit back against the leather couch, taking in the pixilated city glowing on the other side of my hotel’s tall windows.
I’d been lying in bed earlier trying to force myself asleep, but after unsuccessfully clearing my mind of this girl and the file that Eu-fùnh gathered, I got up to take another look. It took longer than I would have liked to get a visual for a face scan, another reason why she’s good at what she does, but we eventually found one of the Op entering the gala.
My mind constantly flips through images of the dark-haired woman at the party, her sensually wrapped body and intelligent blue eyes, to the woman in Kam’s suite. Stealthy as a cat, ruining my assignment, ruining my kill.
But of course she would.
She has the spotless record to uphold.
The title of a perfect operative to maintain.
I scrub a frustrated hand over my face as footsteps pad softly across the marble floor. Familiar fingers run through my hair, and I close my eyes.
“You have an early flight. Why are you up?” Eu-fùnh slides beside me on the couch, her deep-purple silk robe falling off one shoulder alluringly. Half of her face is cast in shadows, while the other is lit by the white glow of the city outside.
Her eyes roam my bare chest and then drift to the folder on the coffee table. She smiles knowingly. “It all worked out in the end,” she says. “We practically work for the same company, plus Ploom assured the information gathered would be shared.”
I glance back at the file and frown. Sure the information she gathered would be shared. It all worked out in the end because she killed Kam. She did everything. She even knew more about Chenglei.
“Did you really not know that he couldn’t be broken?” I ask, laying my head on the back of the couch, staring at the dark glass chandelier above.
Eu-fùnh shifts over to straddle me. Her long nails graze along my arms, and I move my hands to feel up her smooth thighs. She watches me with an amused gleam in her eyes.
“Like I said the last time you asked, I didn’t know. I had extensive knowledge on Kam and never encountered such intelligence. I’m impressed our little girl did.” She continues to stroke her hands down my chest. “I knew there was something about her when we met at the gala,” Eu-fùnh muses. “She seemed…different.”
I scoff. “Different, as in an evil shrew.”
Eu-fùnh’s husky laugh fills the space. “I like her,” she says before lowering her face inches away from mine. “And I like her even more because she’s gotten under your skin, something not easily done.”
My fingers flex on her thighs. “I don’t know about my skin,” I say, “but I’d certainly like to get under yours.” Grabbing her hips, I guide her to gri
nd against me. Our only separation are my boxer briefs and her thin silk bottoms. I need something to distract me, and by Eu-fùnh’s movements, she knows it. Bringing her lips to mine, I hungrily taste every inch while she moans against me, but before I can slip off her robe, she pulls away.
Her dark eyes are endless in the dim lighting, her drape of black hair a waterfall of onyx as it falls forward. “I like this girl,” she says as she tugs my head back by the root of my hair. “But I don’t like her enough for you to be thinking of her while having sex with me.”
I certainly don’t want that either.
“Then make me forget,” I say with a crooked grin.
She cocks an eyebrow at the challenge before forming a sensual smile.
“My pleasure.”
20
Carter
MANHATTAN, NEW YORK: 1735 hours
I swirl the amber liquid in my glass and hate how the color reminds me of a certain person’s hair. Tipping the glass back, I finish my apple juice in one swallow, for the first time in a long time wanting it to be something stronger, something numbing.
“Need another?”
“Yeah, thanks, Matt.” I slide the glass over to where a thin tattooed man stands behind the bar. “But this time make it tonic with lemon peel.” Anything to not look at that color again, be reminded of her again.
I’ve been back in the city for a week now and still feel like I’m being haunted. Despite my desperation to forget, everything seems to remind me of the woman I met in Hong Kong, specifically anything blue or orange. Which means I can pretty much kiss enjoying any Mets or Knicks game goodbye.
Awesome.
The meeting yesterday with COA didn’t help either. It was the first time in a long time I had to call in a spade. Sure I’ve left big messes for COA to clean up from time to time, but never without a positive completion of my assignment. A positive that I made happen, not someone else.
