The Resurrection Pact (Winston Casey Chronicles Book 1)

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The Resurrection Pact (Winston Casey Chronicles Book 1) Page 37

by Jay Smith


  Uri stepped back from the light show like a man faced with the light of judgment.

  "This," I said. "Is the fucking end of my business here. I go home. Life goes on. The Kline Foundation goes on."

  Alan folded his arms. To him, this meant defiance. To me, it signaled his capitulation. "I know nothing about Kline and will do nothing but let justice take its course in the matter."

  "Disappointing," I replied.

  Dimitri took a step toward me, palms toward me, with a twisted little smile on his face. "You walk away with millions – is this enough to keep you quiet about what you've seen here? You are, you know, an accessory after the fact if this all falls down later. You know, yes?"

  I nodded. "I don't want to be a courtier or a recruiter or any part of this freak show. I came here for a vacation and to say goodbye to a friend. I'm just going home with a jackpot. I'll keep the Knowledge Mines active in case you rage quit our agreement and come after me."

  "Delete the Parker program," Alan snarled. "I don't want him haunting my world."

  I shrugged. "Can't. Ask your IT staff."

  "I'm a ghost in your machine, Alan," Parker joked and began to woo with his hands waving through the air.

  Dimitri stepped within punching distance of me. "You understand, of course, should certain information come out by any means, you will be just as – exposed to the consequences?"

  "Yes. I assume that applies to Mister Horus over there, too. Look, Grant Parker came at you – all of you - to bring you all down and he did an amazing job gathering intel on a whole lot of people, places and things. Me? I'm not a white knight. I just want a retirement account and a place to live a long life by myself."

  "You don't have that option, Winston." Alan tried to hide a little smile, but let it peek through to make his point.

  Ignoring Alan, I told Dimitri, "You'll find everything Parker collected about you on Alan's behalf in his account inside similar files to the PRIM I just accessed. He has files in his IT Security section, too. So long as I'm protected, you're protected. We both have leverage against Alan in case he decides to do to you what he tried to do to me. Are we done here?"

  He nodded. "For today. We know where to find you. I believe we have much business to discuss, him and me." Dimitri's head turned toward Alan like a snake coiling for a strike. "And I am sure Spetztovich will wish to be involved."

  Dimitri crossed the room, announcing something to his men in Russian all while staring at me like I was some complex abstract painting to decipher. To say he was scary as shit doesn't sell it. The sunken face and blazing eyes, his cold handshake was rough and tight like an old hangman's rope.

  "I knew Lieutenant Grant Parker. We spent many days together and I know him to be a good man – one of his word. Are you such a man, Mister Casey?"

  "If you know Grant Parker that well, you know he would take you down at the cost of his own life for what you do."

  Dimitri's grip stiffened just a bit and he gasped a bit in surprise.

  I continued, "Fortunately or unfortunately, I'm not that kind of man, Dimitri."

  The longest pause of my life included some thought about how many bones in my hand Dimitri would break before his goons went to work on the rest of me.

  He laughed.

  He patted me on the shoulder.

  The goon closest to the door out of the room took a step to the left.

  Dimitri patted me on the back, pushing me toward the door. "Go, Mister Casey. Go far from here and live a good long life." He laughed again and his goons joined in. "You never know when a good life goes bad."

  As I walked toward the door, Alan Horus stepped up and put a hand on my shoulder. "You don't fucking leave! Not now. Not til I have what I want from you."

  He spun me around and before I could focus on the insanity blossoming in his features like hives, his right fist hit me in my left cheek, spinning me around and down toward the floor, though Parker's hologram.

  Parker's voice shouted "Weapon drawn. Weapon drawn."

  Alan roared "Get away from me! Go back to hell, Parker! Go! To! Hell!"

  I realized Alan wasn't coming after me. He swung something at the emitters mounted to the ceiling. Parker followed the action until the first emitter shattered and he became a blurry form in the middle of a dusty cloud.

  In my daze, big hands and big arms carried me out of the office. Loud Russian phrases drowned out Alan's screams until the office door shut and I fell to my knees in front of the elevators. Someone hit DOWN and a bell rang.

  Then I was alone.

  ~

  The staff got word of my departure before I arrived. My things were being folded and stowed as I got to the room. Hotel security stood at the door, but for every black suit with an earpiece there was a Russian standing nearby. The staff looked like my swift departure was an urgent assignment to complete quick and quiet.

  ~

  I left the Peppermint Casino with an Uber driver summoned by the concierge. I loaded up the trunk myself after an uncomfortable moment standing outside the Mercedes, got in the back and mentioned the airport. As we approached McCarron's Departure terminal the quiet, middle aged man behind the wheel said "You provide good information, Mr. Casey."

  "Well, I didn't think the airport was too hard to find, y'know?"

  "No. I am talking about the information you provided my men just today. Very good. For it we take you to airport and not desert."

  "Spetztovich?"

  My understanding of my situation struggled to line up with that of what this stranger had said. It was an uncomfortable fifteen seconds by which time we were stopped outside my Terminal. Ancient eyes behind a mask of leather worn by the troubles of many decades made it very clear: he was not going to help me with my bags.

  "We anticipate renegotiating our contract with Mr. Horus. You are wise to stay away for some time." He spoke the word "renegotiate" the way a sadist might whisper "rape."

  I handed him his fare and he accepted it like a wadded snot rag. "We have a saying in our organization, Mr. Casey. "Ми друзі, тому що ми мовчимо."("My druzi, tomu shcho my movchymo.") It means 'We are friends because we are silent.'"

  ~

  Spetztovich didn't help me with my bags but at least he popped the trunk for me. As soon as the trunk slammed shut, the blue Mercedes wedged its way between two shuttles and to the outer lane.

  I waved goodbye to the two Russians parked three cars behind my ride. They did not respond in kind as Diane Walton stepped out of the back seat. She looked pissed, but uninjured.

  The Russians disappeared into traffic.

  I parked myself on a bench near the revolving door and opened my Magic Book. The toggle screen re-appeared atop my account profile page.

  EXECUTE TRANSACTION? Y/N?

  Diane joined me on the bench. "One hell of a vacation. I take it I have you to thank for my release?"

  "Grant Parker's ghost, actually."

  She nodded. "You can explain that to me some other time. What about Murray?"

  "My guess is he turned tail just as things went bad for Alan. I expect some changes to Ebethan banking laws coming soon."

  "What are you staring at?"

  "An atomic bomb. At the end of the Second World War, someone decided to drop a second bomb to convince the Japanese that Hiroshima wasn't our whole load. I'm looking at Nagasaki."

  "Wait. Did you drop a bomb in the game or are you talking metaphorically?"

  I touched the YES button on the screen and let my finger sit on the glass, the icon swelling like a bug trapped between them. As soon as I broke contact the chain reaction would start.

  The screen chirped, confirming execution.

  I watched an account transfer refresh into my primary account. Seventeen million dollars: to me, an extraordinary amount. To Alan Horus, it was a limp sucker punch. It startled him more than it hurt. Even with the Russians reassessing their contracts, this was a temporary setback. He could even rationalize it as a payoff. In
the end, Alan's revenge on me would just require more time and become a footnote to his grand Phase Two plan.

  Excitement? Horror? That thrill of cresting the hill in a roller coaster just before gravity sweeps you over the edge into freefall? An urgent need to vomit in a nearby flower bed?

  I felt all of that as Parker's GhostVirus liquidated another $33 million in Aeternus account assets and transferred them to parts unknown.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  My next clear memory was of sitting at the Elite Traveler's Lounge overlooking an arena of gates one floor down wondering how I got through TSA and when I ordered an entire foot-long Italian sub for myself. Jimmy Buffett played on the stereo, singing about "Fins." The lounge was not particularly busy for the middle of the day and my fellow "elites" consisted mainly of men in wrinkled suits and lost expressions, except for a small group of boisterous, young Republicans standing in a circle along the wall. Those not staring at half-eaten plates of pub grub or their smart phones were playing slots or watching afternoon news and flight information on the various monitors handing off the walls. The common travelers below could see us through the glass floors and half-walls around the outside. I don't think we looked so special to the herd of commoners rushing the gates waiting to be stuffed into steel tubes and shot into the sky.

  I wondered who was watching me, who Alan or maybe the Russians sent to keep an eye on me. And then I stopped caring. It didn't matter.

  At five o'clock, my Magic Book chirped an alarm. A minute later, it chimed and the pages flashed red. I opened it up to see a SYSTEM ERROR message on the main page.

  YOUR SESSION HAS TIMED OUT DUE TO LOSS OF CONNECTION. PLEASE TRY TO RECONNECT LATER.

  The chain reaction reached the central core and things were about to explode.

  Within a few more minutes, my cell phone blew up, vibrating and chirping with emails, push texts, and social media notifications.

  Aeternus was under attack and its capital city had fallen.

  ~

  WAR! In a terrifying and unexpected attack, ten thousand citizens of Aeternus were vaporized in a catastrophic magical attack on the capital city. At this time details are unknown, but the source of the attack is known to be a rift opening beneath the Castle of Lord Bunting-upon-Stropf…

  …created by a magical device of unknown origin. The device functioned as a massive energy discharge and all items, characters, and structures took enough damage to be "atomized" by the attack. It is not known if the attack was single weapon with a massive radius or several smaller devices discharged throughout the capital region grid. the Capital grid network is currently offline. All content within fifty grids of the capital has been deleted. Any inventory element less than 12 hours old is not on the back-up servers. Support systems is working on rebooting the grid from backups, however, all characters will need to reboot from remote spawn grids. More as we figure this all out.

  ~

  I caught the scent of Alogar in Springtime, Ezrin's signature fragrance. I turned, still a bit on edge from the events of the past week and there stood a tall woman in a new, modest business suit of forest green peering down at me from my right.

  "Is that seat taken?" Ezrin went with black hair which emphasized her pale skin. Some modest make-up brought some color to her lips and cheeks.

  "Please," I gestured to one of the three empty seats. She took the one blocking my view of my Gate. With her hair pulled back and a more conservative application of make-up, Ezrin looked like someone who wanted to sell me insurance instead of take me on an adventure of epic fantasy. There was no sense that the Queen of the Horde was hiding inside this perfect, ordinary young woman. We stared at each other for a moment.

  "I'm sorry. My name is Olivia. Olivia Banks." She held out her hand. "Am I interrupting something?"

  I watched my phone fill up with notifications, warnings, and alerts about crashes, failures, and service interruptions. "No, it looks like my office is having communication problems, so I'm happy for the distraction. I'm Winston Casey," I smiled, happy to touch her skin again as if for the first time and as friends. "Nice to meet you, Olivia."

  She reacted to my name with a hint of surprise, like I might have chosen a secret identity already. Seemed to me that Winston Casey was the character I played because making it out of Aeternus alive felt like something of a rebirth.

  "Olivia" settled into her seat next to me and leaned in. "I hope you don't mind, Mr. Casey, but there are a few guys over at the bar who seem to think the airport is a single's bar. I prefer the company of more -- mature men."

  I noticed her thick, gold wedding band when it reflected the lights of a flashing slot machine and I smiled. "Hitting on a married woman. What's this town coming to?"

  "There's very little this town thinks is 'too far', Mr. Casey." She gestured at the sub in front of me with just a hint of a knowing smile. "That's a hearty lunch, by the way."

  "Would you like to share? I've had a – weird day and I think my eyes were bigger than my common sense."

  "No, thank you. Maybe you can take it on your flight. Where are you headed?"

  I looked at Olivia and smiled. "A little fairy tale of an island called Ebetha."

  "Ooh. I've been there. It's lovely. Getting away from it all?"

  "I have business and a score to settle." I tilted my head a little and pushed my plate aside. I worked out how to speak the idea stuck in my head. "I need to find a secret world on the other side of a rabbit hole." This answer seemed to satisfy part of my companion's expectation of me as I asked, "You?"

  "Oh, I'm between jobs and dealing with some major life issues."

  "I'm sorry to hear it."

  "Thank you. My former employers were keeping me from my potential. But I understand they've got their hands full with some major life issues of their own right now."

  "That seems to be going around. I hope you can get your life issues under control. Nothing life-threatening, I hope."

  "My husband – well, soon to be former husband - and I are selling our home in Maine and I'm moving to Delaware."

  "Maine, huh? Sounds cold. Sounds bleak."

  "Perfect place to end a marriage, then."

  "And Delaware is an improvement how?"

  "My family is from Smyrna. There's a farmhouse in the area I've had my eye on since I was a child and they tell me the whole farm is up for sale. I want to try and buy it but if not, maybe I can convince the bank to let me rent it while I renovate it. It's rough because I'm betting they want to sell to a commercial developer."

  "That's a terrible thing to do."

  "What, buying a farmhouse?"

  "No. Turning perfectly good farmland into a strip mall."

  She chuckled, less at the joke than at me for trying to be funny. No matter what name she gave, she would always be Ezrin to me and that slight curl of a grin and sparkle in her eyes was just the same as a kid peeking out from behind a Halloween mask.

  "So, Mr. Casey," she sighed as she got the bartender's attention and pointed to one of the taps near our stools, "What is it you hope to find down that rabbit hole?"

  The bartender pulled a draught that kept Olivia's attention as I answered. "No idea. But that's part of the fun, isn't it?"

  "Going it alone?"

  "Well, I have allies. If you weren't up to your neck in real estate and life issues, I'd invite you along."

  Olivia turned back toward me. "Me?"

  "Why not?"

  She took a potato chip from my plate and held it to her lips. "What do you know about me?" She took the chip like a communion wafer.

  "I'm a pretty good judge of people, like who they really are under the surface. I have a feeling you'd be good in a fight. But I understand that…"

  Diane returned from the news stand where she purchased some airline toys for her nephew. She put one hand on my shoulder and another out to Olivia. "Hello, I'm Diane."

  They exchanged looks and pleasantries before Diane sat down on the stool next to Olivia.
/>
  "I'm not interrupting anything, right," Diane asked interrupting everything.

  "Olivia is a refugee from the same circus we just left."

  Diane nodded. "So what's next," she asked.

  Olivia looked at me. "Fifteen hundred a day plus travel."

  "Excuse me?"

  She sipped from the beer she took right from the bartender's hand. "My consulting fee. Another five hundred on days I have to use violence. I'll need a month's retainer and I don't fly coach."

  "Done."

  Diane arched her back and looked around Olivia at me. "Waitaminute! You and I haven't even worked out a fee for this whole mess."

  "There's still work to be done. Parker uncovered a slave network and there's an arm across the country that has something to do with the Kline Foundation and missing Wonderlost Kids. I think we should look into that."

  She was surprised. So was the bartender, but he shook it off and wandered away. "Wow that was easy. Wanna buy a cabin on the coast of Maine?"

  Olivia laughed loud enough to draw attention.

  "What's that about," I asked, beaming.

  "You sound like Parker."

  "You do," Diane agreed.

  "Parker's dead. But he left some unfinished business."

  Olivia put a hand on my wrist and directed my attention around the room, toward the tired travelers staring into their drinks for answers, over to the cluster of men still sharing their thoughts on what to do if they were ever alone with someone like Olivia, idle tourists feeding slots and wasting time, and then led me around in my stool toward the panoramic view of the Las Vegas horizon with planes arriving and departing in all directions.

  "An old friend of mine once told me that the greatest adventures always begin in a tavern. What do you think, Mr. Casey?"

  "Call me Winston. And I think your friend is absolutely right."

  QUATTRO INTERMEDIO

 

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