Two minutes. Time to forget ‘general cranky-soggy pants’. I scanned the bathroom for any security cameras that may have been left unmarked on the blueprints with the thermal imager in my phone. It beeped. None to report.
I disengaged the skirt from my body suit to reveal leggings. Out of my purse came a utility belt which I wrapped around my waist. I pulled on a pair of protective gloves and soft shoes from the purse and donned them, looking at the ceiling vent above. Easy as pie. I grabbed the top of the bathroom stall and hauled myself up. Now within easy reach of the vent, I popped it open.
Once in the vent, I closed my eyes against the cold blast of air. It was an air conditioning system. I glanced down at my map. Gaynor’s room should be the next one over.
When I got to it about a minute later, I looked down through the grate and breathed a sigh of satisfaction. Completely empty and dark except for the low flicker of the candles his wife had set up. Not much romance here since they were all electrical ones instead of the real thing, but at least she tried. The decanter of whiskey she had left out on the table was perfect.
Ten seconds. Nine seconds… I pushed the button on the scrambler the second the clock struck twelve. The security footage redoubled around as I watched on my cellular device. Time to go to work.
I removed the grate with practiced ease and then dropped down into the room. My feet made nary a sound as I hit the pads and rolled forward. I straightened. No detection.
Once I dumped the damning vial into the whiskey, I picked up the bottle, swirling it slowly. It sloshed a little, but the sound wouldn’t carry. I placed it back in the exact spot it had been left and returned to the vent. I grasped the slim line I had left waiting and shimmied back up. The automatic coil wound back up neatly as I slid down the impeccably clean vent through to the bathroom.
Balancing myself on the edge of the bathroom counter, I then slid the grate into place. I dropped down into the bathroom as my ears picked up on a frantic pounding. Someone was knocking on the door. More like banging actually. I quickly threw all of my stuff into my bag, re-zipped the skirt into place and donned the heels. Mission accomplished. I quickly checked my hair in the mirror and then sashayed over to the door.
I unlocked it and it flew open, bonking me on the forehead but good. I yelped and staggered back. My heartbeat thrummed hard in the spot it had hit. I decided to be pathetic about the whole thing and slipped backward on the tile, landing on my butt. For a normal person, that was a typical reaction considering how hard it had clobbered me.
I clutched my head and looked up at the clod that had the audacity to do such a thing. I stared up at the two lunatics from before. McRattin was still sopping wet as he stepped past me. His counterpart was looking down at me sheepishly. “Sorry, Ma’am. We received word there would be an attempt on Gaynor’s life tonight and a silent alarm was tripped in the vent above this bathroom. You didn’t answer when we hollered in. We didn’t know you were behind the door when we kicked it in.”
“Because I for one don’t respond to harassment and two, it’s not very ladylike to start yelling when having a bowel movement,” I replied haughtily, playing my part to a tee. “I unlocked the door-”
“All clear,” McRattin grunted into his radio, completely oblivious to us. “But check all rooms.”
The shorter fellow helped me to my feet apologetically. “Sorry. It’s not Cain’s habit to clock unsuspecting women on the head.” He chuckled again and then pointed at me. “Wait, you’re the one who got him wet.”
“Yes,” I said testily, unamused by his mirth. “I’m the hooker.”
“Really? What are your hourly rates?” He laughed as I waved my purse threateningly at him. “Naw. You ain’t no hooker. Your skirt is too long. Cain just has a warped sense of humor. He’s never gotten a shower in response, though. I’m Argon, by the way. Nice to meet you. Shall we get you some ice?”
“No,” I said coldly. “I am going home. I have had enough of this party.”
“We’ll drive you,” McRattin said, looking up at the grate in a way that was far from reassuring. “Our shift is over.”
“Why, thank you,” I said with less than gratitude. He would probably try to interrogate me more on the way. If I refused, it would look suspicious. But where was I to be dropped off? I didn’t want them to know where I lived and if I didn't go in somewhere, they would tail me. “What shift? With your tuxes you hardly seem like security guards and you’re a general. I find it hard to believe you’re with security.”
“Oh, my.” I looked over to see a familiar face peering curiously in the door. “I didn’t know the ladies room was such a hot spot. Hello again, violet eyes.”
“Michael,” I acknowledged grouchily, still clutching my temple.
“Xorratti,” McRattin grunted. “If you see anything weird let me know. We had a breach in the security system.”
“Your less than dry state doesn’t count as weird, I suppose?”
“No. Miss ‘violet eyes’ took one of my statements a little less than kindly. So what is it you do, Shiraz?” McRattin asked suspiciously, eyes studying my attire. He was looking for signs of dust from the vent system. Unfortunately for him, I had sent in a forged order to the building staff to clean all of the heating and cooling systems thoroughly a few days before. And I must say the cleaning crew did an impeccable job. Add to that, I had specifically chosen the grey-colored dress because it would hide any dirt.
I rolled my eyes at him. “I am an entrepreneur.”
“So whatever you are doing is either illegal or something I wouldn't want to know about. Good to know. I’d love to hear more about this in a few but for now I have to meet with the rest of the team.” He swept out of the room but issued one more order as he went. “Argon, get her cleaned up.”
“With pleasure,” he agreed heartily, grinning at me. “You don’t need mouth-to-mouth, do you?”
I glared at him. “No, thank you. I’ll just wait until you escort me to my residence. That is, if I’m not arrested first for doing absolutely nothing.”
“She’s with me,” Michael said with a convincing shrug. I managed to contain my surprise with a blank expression. What was this lie about? I barely knew this kid and yet he was covering for me. “I’m taking her home.”
Argon looked impressed. “My, my, kid. Good to know you have a dark side. You certainly have good taste. Or is she a friend of your father’s?”
He was fishing for information. Much to my surprise, Michael lied yet again. “My friend from school. My father said she couldn’t come, so I snuck her in. Is that a crime? And what did you do to her head?”
He came forward and gently swept my hand aside, looking at the bruise. “Ouch. You need healing. Tell Cain I’ve taken off with her and if she needs to answer any more unwarranted questions, he can find her through me. Honestly! Do I look like I need Dad bitching at me over this? It was hard enough getting her in here.”
Argon’s eyebrows touched his hairline as he took off out the door, straightening his tie. “I’ll let him know. Don't be surprised if he calls up and busts your butt for this. His sniffer is out in full force and focused on her for whatever reason. Have a good evening.”
Once he was gone, I looked over at my unexpected savior. He was busy stuffing his sketch pad into the front of his shirt. He caught me watching and offered a guilty smile. “I’m not supposed to have this. I’m to be mingling with the ‘real’ people and not hanging out with my imaginary ones. Dad would have a fit if he saw it. He’s in one of the rooms with some woman, but he could still find out. Then again, you do count as mingling, I suppose.”
He eyed me shrewdly. “You didn't actually do something illegal, did you? He’ll kill me if you’re a fugitive. He and McRattin both.”
“No,” I said winningly. The senator was still alive as far as I knew. “Thank you for covering for me.”
“No problem. To be truthful, I have an ulterior motive. I didn’t finish my sketch of you so I figured you wo
n’t mind now if I finish it in the car. I can give you a lift home.”
I inclined my head. “I don’t, but I must get some ice first. I think my forehead is going to match my eyes tomorrow.”
He extended his arm toward me shyly and I took it. “The car has a minibar. Ice is a given and there’s aspirin in the glove compartment for the pain. I make sure to keep that stocked considering Dad drags me everywhere. I frequently suffer from headaches.”
He was quiet as we went out through the main entrance of the suite. We drew quite a few judgmental stares. More than a few men who had chatted me up stared with open speculation at whom I had chosen to take me home.
Michael was quiet on the elevator ride down, too. Until we got into the enormous stretch limo, he continued his silence. Then he let loose.
He threw off his tuxedo jacket and unbuttoned his shirt while undoing his tie. I watched, very much amused as he reproduced the pad from with a much practiced air. “Thank God that’s over. I hate parties. They’re so boring; everyone kissing each other’s respective asses. The only reason I’m dragged along is because Dad has to make sure everyone knows he produced offspring that wasn’t puny and pathetic. He tells everyone I suffer from O.D.D., oppositional defiance disorder. The doctor he paid off ‘agrees’ with him,” he said, adding finger quotes to the word ‘agrees.’ “He had to have a reason for my general disgust with him and everything he comes into contact with. Whenever I defy his orders, he simply says it’s a product of the disease. “
I smiled, watching as he went back to sketching. “He sounds like a real gem.”
“The only reason he didn’t send me to military school is because it would be too embarrassing for him. I guess having a son that doesn’t roll over like a dog isn’t a son at all,” he said loftily, eyes on the pad.
“You are awfully eager to share information with someone you don’t know,” I said, watching his fingers whiz back and forth.
“Only because I never talk to anybody. You’re the first person who hasn’t either sucked up to me or decided I wasn’t worth their time. I wanted to explore your psyche more while I had the opportunity, so I took it.” He glanced out the back window, surprising me with his observing nature. He had appeared to be thoroughly absorbed in his sketch pad. “We’re being followed. Cain didn't buy my story.”
I, too, had seen the headlights following a ways back in the rear view mirror. “Drop me off at one of the main hotels.”
“You don’t want them to know where you live?”
Once again I was impressed with his keen nature. “I haven’t checked in yet to any particular one,” I said, which was partially the truth. “I’m not a permanent resident of the city.”
“So I won’t be seeing you again, I guess,” he said, looking disappointed.
He wanted to? How interesting. “Probably not.”
“So what do you do for a living? You’re not a bureaucrat; that I can tell. You don’t stink of bull… You get the idea. I’ll save the expletive since you are a lady.”
I chuckled. “Tax expert. Tax evasion expert to be exact. I tell the politicians where to stick their obscenely illegal trust funds so no one will find them.”
He stopped scribbling. “I’m not sure I believe that. Did you feed me a lie in case I’m interrogated? Do I look that gullible?”
I clasped my hands together. “My dear young man, I think your brain is being wasted in the annals of that sketch book. You should work for the military as a profiler.”
“Who says I’m not?”
I looked at him frankly, knowing the answer already. He was far too wet behind the ears for that. “Then what am I? You already have several clues and I am curious to know what your professional opinion is.”
He looked up from his work. He studied me carefully. “I don’t know. I can’t tell. Your accent is hard to place, so you're not from any of the local cities... Or at least you didn’t grow up here. You didn’t keel over and kiss any of the political or military shoes presented this evening so if anything I’d guess you’re from the underground. But you seem too refined for that. Are you a weapons dealer? Into espionage? Both seem not to be the correct answer.”
I inclined my head. “Correct. Neither guess hits the mark.”
“But you are from the underground?”
“In a sense. Stop here,” I said, pointing at the first hotel I saw up ahead. He was too keen for his own good. He was picking up on all of the wrong details.
He pouted. “Oh. I was enjoying our conversation.”
“You mustn’t get out very much if you find me interesting.”
“Or I really like the company of exceedingly pretty girls,” he said quietly. I blushed uncharacteristically. “I probably shouldn't be asking this, but my father’s home has a huge amount of rooms that go unused. You don’t have to waste money on a hotel room.”
“I have money to kill,” I said with a wink. He looked disappointed. “And you wouldn't want your father to know about me, now would you?”
“He’d probably be relieved I wasn’t gay actually,” he said with a lopsided grimace. “I’m not hitting on you. I’m just reluctant to let you go so soon. Will I get to see you again?”
I stepped out of the car and peered back in. It was unusual to see such a disappointed expression over such a short meeting. “Not if you’re lucky. But there are always other parties. Have a good evening, Mr. Xorratti.”
I shut the door before he could say one more word and waved the driver on. I watched the limo go with a sigh. What a refreshing young man. His father may have been a moral black hole, but his son seemed to have promise. That is, if they didn't screw him up and set him on the same path.
I then waved at the black sedan that went past with Argon sitting in the passenger seat, letting McRattin know they had been caught. Now, time for me to disappear. It wouldn't do to be interrogated. A plan was already forming in my mind as I sauntered into the upscale hotel.
A crystal chandelier glittered over my head as I strode through the main lobby. It was a nice hotel.
Too bad I never stayed in it.
Chapter Two
My eyes opened reluctantly as the local rooster shrieked its late afternoon call. The damn bird never had gotten the timing right, but it did its job. It was a shame I knew where it would wind up at holiday time.
Another long day passed. I yawned. I barely got any sleep as it was, but I had managed a good four hours this time. That was a record for me. Usually I was jolted awake with repeated night terrors. At the thought, life lasting images that I wished I could forget passed through my mind. I shuddered and rose from my sleeping mat, trying to shake them off. Time to try and think of something else.
My encounter with the military and Michael Xorratti from last night now played through my mind instead. I had gone into the bowels of the hotel and exited out the staff entrance. No one would have known it was me of course. I had stolen a maid’s outfit and slipped it on before going out. I had disappeared from the surveillance system perfectly. If I had been tailed inside, they would have had a hell of a time following me.
I haphazardly glanced at my bulletin board full of pictures and felt a nauseating sense of self-pride. I had presumably eliminated another one of the S.O.B.’s. Yet when one picture was taken down, three others took its place. And last night one of the four bastards from Jennings’s wall had gone down.
The ashes remained in the fire pit from where I had burned the senator’s picture and all of the plans to his summer home. If this place was ever raided, nothing would tie me to his death.
I looked at the names scrawled across the board in red. One name in particular stood out amongst the names I had gathered, troubling me. It was a name I had already come across and scouted. I had scratched his name from the list in blue. He had been on my spare list. But now, after meeting him last night, I had to check again. Perhaps I had missed something.
Unlike the other old, greedy men I usually took care of, this one was young
, younger than me in fact and quite the distinctive soldier. He had risen through the ranks so quickly that he had become a celebrity here in Nacin. It would be fairly disappointing if I had to intercede on fate’s behalf. He had so much potential. But if he was squandering it on dirty business, oh well.
General Cain McRattin: sweetheart to the press, lady-killer in the bedroom and an all over pest to me personally. He was the one.
This McRattin was in with all the pigs of the underbelly of the city. The military and police were the playthings to the upper classes, allowing their crimes and punishing those who ‘threatened’ the security of the bubble. In a way, I felt sorry for the soldiers. Not that there weren’t security threats to the city or petty crime, but the vast majority of what I considered criminal activity was ignored due to who committed the misconduct. Everything the elites touched was corrupted, including the justice system. They got off free while everyone else suffered.
I harrumphed at the thought and then I sniggered. McRattin could be dealt with later. A woman’s work was never done and tonight would be no exception. But for now, I need to eat.
I shut the secret entrance to my bunker and went up the rickety, old ladder to the trellis where I grew my supply. Today the tomatoes looked ripe enough to eat. Those with some basil, garlic, rice, and some beans and I was set. But for those I would need to travel to the market. And for that I needed money. I despised that dirty stuff with a passion but it was necessary to survive.
Oh, I had enough of it. I was rich as a king from all of the kills, being as good at my profession as I am. It was a dark kind of humor if you thought about it. I got paid for killing the same people I had already targeted myself, seeking out contracts for the same targets I was pursuing. That way no one noticed the pattern. It all looked random if a hit was already placed on a person. My motive would remain undiscovered, as would I. For now, all I would be known for by the underground was assassination, a killer for hire.
War Machine: Book One in the Destiny In the Shadows Series Page 2
