“Of course, I am,” murmured Adrian at Damian’s back. “No one rules alone, and I intend to have my former Agent at my side.”
Damian tilted his head, adding, “Just as we’ve always planned.”
The Director let out a sharp, cold laugh. “You’re a fool if you believe that. A goddamned fool who deserves what’s coming to him.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed in irritation, and she said, “I think we’re done here.”
“This is the side you choose?” demanded the Director, still fixed on Damian. “Power instead of the Agency, instead of the soldiers you’ve bled with?”
Damian’s eyes flashed. “With the help of the Prime Minister, I can have both. I can have everything I ever wanted.”
Disgusted, the Director shook his head. “Then be quick about it. Make it clean.”
“I’m not going to shoot you, Director,” Damian said, lowering his gun and holding the Director’s weapon out, grip-first, as he went on, “You’re going to do it yourself.”
The Director stared at the gun for a moment, then snatched it up and leveled it at Damian and Adrian.
Adrian stepped out from behind Damian, folding her arms as she chided, “Don’t be foolish Michael. Even if you did manage to kill us, the game is over for you. You wouldn’t get out of this building alive.”
“You’d just leave the country crippled, without a Prime Minister or Director,” Damian added. “Be the soldier you always claimed to be. Protect the country and face your death with dignity.”
The Director stumbled back, wild-eyed and breathing hard as he pointed the gun from Damian to Adrian. They stood next to one another; tall, dark, and looking intently at him. He shook his head, mouth quivering as he said, “You haven’t won. There are others who will stop you, and I’ll see you both in hell.”
A gunshot rang throughout the office, and the Director
crumpled to the floor.
Adrian stepped forward, her expensive heels clicking on the marble tiles as she approached the body. She smiled down at it, hands in the pockets of her tailored jacket as she watched the blood pooling around him. “Goodbye, Michael.”
Turning, she looked back at Damian, ordering, “Call security. Report that a deranged man just killed my guards and then himself. Give me a moment to work up some tears.”
Damian nodded, then went to carry out the orders.
She put up a magnificent show when the security team and medics arrived, appropriately choked up but still exuding strength and authority. Damian stood to the side, uncaring of all the civilians and later the press crowding his former Handler for a statement. Instead, his eyes kept drifting to the nearest window, looking across the city to the Agency skyscraper, and wondering what would come next.
When the press interviews and debriefings were over, Adrian returned with him to the Agency. A word from her assembled every Administrator, Handler, and Agent in the building. All of them stood in the enormous training arena, standing at attention yet looking up at the small observation balcony where Adrian stood alongside the top Administrators. At first, the assembled soldiers looked up in confusion; that changed to open shock as Adrian announced the Director’s death.
“Michael was an old, and dear friend,” she said into the
microphone, her green eyes bright. “Though he had been under a considerable amount of stress these past few months, I believed that he was recovering. It wasn’t until tonight, when he
threatened to kill me before turning the gun on himself, that I
understood just how ill he’d become.”
She lifted her head, going on, “The loss of the Director is painful, but it need not be devastating. Both your Administrators and I will discuss who amongst you can best fill this crucial role, and rest assured that we will select a candidate who can offer you guidance and strength in this very difficult time.”
Down in the audience, Damian watched her work. When they applauded her, he was the only one who didn’t join in.
Soon afterward, Adrian and the Administrators disappeared into the bowels of the building far away from surveillance cameras and prying eyes. The meetings went on for hours, and Damian didn’t bother staying. Instead, he went back to Adrian’s office, walking across the cleared hallway and cleaned floors to the windows. He poured himself a drink, then went to watch the sun set over the city.
She arrived later, pausing in the doorway to smile at him. “Good, you’re already celebrating.”
Damian poured her a glass of brandy, and as he handed it to her, he asked, “Then you were happy with their decision?”
“And you will be as well,” she smiled at him. “I was worried at first; Michael forced our hand earlier than I would have liked. But it all worked out in the end.” She took a large swallow of her drink before announcing, “We’ll hold off on the announcement for now, but when the time is right, you’ll be named as the new Director.”
Damian let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Adrian came over to stand behind him, resting her cheek on his shoulder as she murmured, “Did you ever think we would get this far? That you and I would stand at the pinnacle of the world together?”
His eyes fixed on the city, he said simply, “Yes. Because my plans don’t go awry.”
Adrian smiled into his jacket. “So confident in yourself...even in failure.”
He turned sharply, eyes ablaze as he demanded, “How exactly have I failed?”
“It’s been a month and you still haven’t caught your Agent.”
“Just because I haven’t found Liane according to your
timetable doesn’t mean she won’t be recovered.”
“If she runs to the continent or beyond—”
“She won’t,” Damian said tersely, draining the rest of his glass. “She’s not finished here. Not yet.”
“You seem very certain of that.”
“Deservedly so. I’ve spent years getting to know her, figuring out what drives her and how her mind works,” Damian pointed out, his words slightly bitter as he added, “I learned from your mistakes with me.”
Adrian smiled frostily. “Still so aggrieved over the past. I made you into the best of your generation, and all you can do is moan about what I didn’t do. Grow up, Damian.”
“I have,” he returned. “And I’m ready to be the leader that the Agency needs.”
Adrian smiled, her gemstone eyes gleaming, and then laughed softly. Damian tolerated the sound as long as he could before demanding, “What’s so amusing?”
“You,” Adrian laughed, tossing back her dark hair in mirth as she sat down in a nearby chair. “Thinking you’ve won, that you have anything at all. You have a title, but you’ve proved nothing to the Agency yet. And you won’t, so long as you remain unable to find your Agent.” Damian’s anger faded into studied aloofness as she went on relentlessly, “They’re watching you now, Damian. They’re watching every move you make and wondering if you
deserve to be where you are. And they won’t believe it until you’ve recovered what you’ve lost.”
“I will,” he said, stubborn and resentful.
Adrian lapsed into amused thoughtfulness. “Of course, you could just bide your time, wait until the Osiris Contingency does the job for you…”
“No,” Damian said, just a touch too sharply. “She’ll be found long before that comes into play.”
Adrian leaned back in her chair, scrutinizing him as she
observed, “Then you’ll need to hurry. Time is running out, after all, and I’m rather looking forward to meeting the girl who
supplanted me in your eyes.”
“What the two of us had was no more than an affair between Agent and Handler,” Damian said bluntly. “You made that
perfectly clear. It’s different with Liane.”
Unbothered, Adrian raised one eyebrow. “Do tell.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “No. You don’t get to pry into that part of me.”
Adrian smiled, th
en laughed; it was a heartless sound. “Oh, my dear boy...do you think you’re in love? Is that what all this is about?”
Damian refused—refused—to acknowledge that. Or to respond to the amused scorn in her voice as she went on, “Love isn’t a part of who we are. It is a human fallibility…and we are greater than that.”
He looked down at her with measured coldness, saying, “I had to tolerate your diatribes when you were my Handler; I don’t have to tolerate them anymore.”
Adrian smiled. “Not as long as you do your job properly.”
Damian set aside his empty glass. “I should get back to work, then.”
He made it as far as the door when her voice stopped him, wondering aloud, “So much trouble over an Agent who betrayed you. Why, I wonder…”
“Because I can fix her,” Damian said, looking back over his shoulder. “I made Liane into the perfect soldier. Once I rid her of every memory she has of that officer, she’ll be perfect again.”
Adrian looked thoughtful. “Will that be enough for you, though? To possess, but not truly have.”
“Now who’s being the sentimental one?” Damian asked
derisively as he turned to go, leaving Adrian alone once more.
His chauffeured car was waiting for him when he left the Party building, but Damian ignored it, heading towards the city center on foot. It was cold, but he barely felt the frigid winds and first few flakes of snow. His mind was too occupied in reliving the conversation with Adrian.
Only this time, in his mind’s eye, he took out his gun and
emptied it into the void where her heart should have been.
The impulse was growing worse, stronger with every passing meeting. How different it had been when he was an Agent, when he’d been naïve enough to admire her, to want to make her proud.
It had happened so long ago that it was almost hard to recall when that admiration had transmuted into hatred. He thought back to his last year as an Agent, remembering…
They had been involved for several years at that point,
inseparable both within and without the Agency. Handlers
wondered if that wasn’t the reason for Damian’s meteoric rise to success; the passionate, obsessive nature of first love was a far better motivator than king and country. Some of them disapproved of Adrian’s methods, given Damian’s age, but there was no denying that the results were impressive.
As he had reached his seventeenth year of life and his fifth as an Agent, the prospect of being a Handler began to be tossed out. It hadn’t been a secret that Adrian was going to be promoted to a Party official, and he would need to move up when that happened. She had told him about it herself, during one of their conversations in the dark after missions. How she was to work within the Party on behalf of the Agency, using her knowledge and ruthlessness to strengthen the softened bureaucrats. It was a task she was eager to take on, and her green eyes always shone with ambition when she talked about it. Damian didn’t mind; he liked seeing that passion in her, the excitement with which she talked about their future. Their future, because he would continue to work alongside her. The bond between Handler and Agent was never severed, never lessened, not even by death. When she was happy, Adrian whispered all sorts of promises to him. That he would join the Party with her, that they would work together until there was no one above them at all.
Damian didn’t care what they did, as long as he got to do it with her.
On her last day within the Agency, he had gone to her apartment to celebrate her rise. As soon as she opened the door, he pushed her against the wall, kissing those full lips and losing himself in the feel of her hair and skin. She stood there for a
moment, still and stiff enough for him to draw back and ask in surprise, “What’s wrong?”
Adrian pulled away from him, wiping at her smeared lipstick with practiced movements. She went to the windows of the living room, not looking at him as she said, “Tomorrow I begin my new position at Libertas.”
Damian gave a soft laugh. “I know; that’s why we’re
celebrating.”
But when he went to embrace her, she shied away, moving out of reach. Her beautiful face was as flawless and unfeeling as that of a statue when she said, “I’ve been…reconsidering my options.”
Damian stared at her, unable to comprehend what was
happening.
“You’re my Agent, and that will never change,” she said, her green eyes luminous in the dim light. “But I might do things in the future that will hurt you. Things you might not understand even if I do. So, it’s better if we change how we are. For both our sakes.”
“Change how we are...” he repeated slowly. “What does that mean?”
“That we remain allies.” She hesitated for a moment, then added, “But nothing more than that.”
The world around him seemed to vanish; the room, the city
beyond, all of it… There was nothing but Adrian, and the horrible, gut-wrenching realization that everything he had thought he knew about their future was gone.
“Are you saying we’re finished?” Damian demanded, his voice distant. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“Not professionally,” she said, shaking her head. “We’ll still work together, and closely. You will be my eyes and ears in the Agency, so I’ll still know what’s happening here.”
“Am I?” Damian said, the beginnings of rage seeping into the words. “And you assume I’ll be willing to do that?”
“Yes,” she said with a smile. “Because your ambition is as
naked as mine. I know that you want to be Director one day. And I’ll be able to help you achieve just that.”
He moved towards her, reaching out, but again she slipped out of reach. Damian looked after her, saying, “These past few years...was it all just to secure my help? To ensure that I’d do what you wanted?”
“Of course not,” Adrian said sharply. “But the game is greater than the sum of its parts, and I won’t let my feelings for you lose it for me.”
“A game…” he repeated dully. “That’s what this is for you.”
Adrian smiled at him at last, seeming almost puzzled. “All of it’s a game. Crossing the chessboard inch by inch, moving my
enemies exactly where I want them. Did you never realize that?”
“No,” he murmured. “And I never wanted it to be, either.”
Adrian moved towards him, reaching up to grasp his face
between her hands and pulling him down so that their foreheads just brushed one another. Damian shut his eyes, clinging to some measure of hope until she whispered, “Stop being so goddamned weak. I raised you to be better than that.”
Damian opened his eyes, and his hands flexed at his sides as he imagined reaching up and strangling the life out of her. Before he could raise his arms, she stepped back, picking up a folder on a nearby desk and handing it to him. “Here; to show there are no hard feelings, I have a parting gift for you.”
Damian took the file, looking at the government-issued photo on the cover. It showed a young, thin girl with scraggly blonde hair and oddly mismatched eyes, and the stamp beside it
identified her as a potential Program recruit. He looked up to find Adrian smiling at him as she said, “Early tests indicate that she’s intuitive, athletically gifted, clear of any genetic abnormalities, and most importantly of all, compliant. She looks pathetic now, but she’ll be pretty, too, one day. Enough to provide you with some amusement.”
Damian’s hands clenched around the folder. “Is that what I was to you? An amusement?”
Her smile slipped into something cold. “You’re starting to bore me, Damian.”
“You think you can just toss me aside?” he demanded, his voice growing louder with each word. “Call me weak, then give me this—foist me off with some trainee like that’s going to change everything—”
Lightning fast, Adrian drew the gun from her back holster. He stood still, swallowing his sh
outs of rage as she leveled the weapon at his head and removed the safety. Her gaze moved past the sight of the gun to look at him, “I’m giving you a golden
opportunity, the chance to work with me until we both get what we want. Now stop fucking whining.”
Damian stood rigid with outrage, fingers inching towards his own weapon. Adrian glanced down at the slight movement, her lips curving in a smile before looking knowingly into his eyes. Her voice went silky as she murmured, “Consider your next step carefully, Damian. You raise a finger against me, and I guarantee you won’t leave this room alive. You choose what you want more; a few seconds of satisfaction, or the future I can offer you.”
Damian’s fingers froze, and he looked back down at the folder in his hand, considering the photograph.
After a long moment, he asked in a strained voice, “She’s
promising?”
Adrian lowered her weapon, stowing it once more and coming over to him. She brought a hand up to curl around the back of his neck, pressing a lingering kiss against his cheek as she murmured, “In every aspect.”
As she drifted away, Damian thumbed through the pages, reading over the reports from the recruiters. Everything Adrian had said was true; the girl was an ideal candidate for any Handler, let alone a new one like Damian. He supposed he should be grateful to Adrian for that, but gratitude was the last thing he was feeling.
When he looked up, he found that she was watching him. She tilted her head, “You’ll need to rename her, of course. Have you thought about it before?”
“No,” he admitted.
Adrian sat as she mused, “Think of something meaningful. That’s what I did with you.”
Damian closed the folder, looking down at the photo once more. His eyes lingered on her blonde hair, and after a moment he looked up, his face as emptied of emotion as he could manage. “What about Liane?”
She gave him a vulpine smile. “It has a nice ring to it. Liane, Damian, Adrian… A perfect little family line. Well, whatever you call her, see if you can help her survive the Program. Who knows? Perhaps you’ll even be able to improve upon my methods...”
The Osiris Contingency Page 10
