DARK FAÏZ Book 3: Dawn never keeps its promises

by Sandra L. Kiss

  "Come back," I whispered with a supplication in my voice.

  My hands went through his hair and he held me tighter to him at that moment. I straightened my head and kissed him. Shivers of pleasure ran through my whole body at that moment. He responded to my kiss by wrapping his tongue around mine, and then he detached his lips from mine to sprinkle my neck with passionate kisses. I wondered if he could feel my heart beating through my clothes.

  "Your skin is so soft," he whispered.

  Our breaths mingled. Then he came back to kiss my lips and sucked my sighs as his hands slipped under my tank top. The background music in the room carried me along with him until I lost myself in the carnal embrace of the one I loved.

  Jul and I were waiting quietly in the early morning in the corridors of the secured CIA headquarters building, not far from the city's business district. My colleague was reviewing his question cards and correcting some of them.

  "Can I help you?" I asked without much hope.

  "No way!" my friend replied while doodling something in his notebook.

  I sighed, annoyed by his behavior towards me.

  "Look, on the other side of that door, it's not the good guys! If your questions or statements aren't relevant, you're gonna get eaten."

  "You're up to your neck in this, Zoe. I don't trust you anymore. Besides, why do you still work at the newspaper? Doesn't your relationship with this guy, Black Shadow or Faïz, allow you to roll in gold without any effort on your part?"

  "Swim in gold, Jul. Damn it, I'm tired of correcting you every time! And no, I'm not gonna stop working, because I love my job, and I do it well."

  "Yeah," replied my colleague, continuing to scribble in his notebook. "The job of a journalist is to inform the world, not to conceal important information."

  I raised my arms to the ceiling in protest:

  "I have nothing to hide, on the contrary! I wanted to protect all these people. What do you think would've happened if we'd come clean about the whole thing? How would the public react? If Lexy hadn't..."

  "Don't talk about Lexy! Unlike you, this woman is upright and sincere."

  "No, but you're kidding me!" I exclaimed. "We're talking about Lexy here, the craziest girl in L.A., and even the entire state of California!"

  The sound of the door opening in front of us interrupted our argument. Jul stood up and followed me with a dark gaze.

  "And to think that in a few minutes, I'll have to save your ass once again," I grumbled, referring to Faïz.

  The large windowless office was impressive. The oval table that took up much of the space in the room was in itself a symbol of power. A chandelier, exaggerated in size and in the shape of a dome, hung above it. Despite its imposing size, it lit up the room with a soft light, making the atmosphere enjoyable. In the back, a closed door opened onto another branch. We were invited to sit, Jul and I, in front of our audience which consisted of Inspector Barthey, Ray, Faïz and Julio, as well as Mickaël Peyton and David. Although I knew most of the faces present, a lump in my throat formed in front of the staging of the situation.

  "It's going to be OK!" Jul wanted to reassure me. "Play the one who doesn't know anything about it. I don't think that should be too difficult for you."

  I squinted my eyes, furious, and pinched my lips to stop myself from answering.

  "Can we go start?" Faïz was already getting impatient, shooting me an icy gaze.

  His very presence in this room was upsetting to me in an outrageous way. The fact that I was arranging this media interview didn't please him. I had convinced Karl that it was the only way to get the news channels and newspapers to calm down about the state of emergency in the country and to get the government to answer once and for all the questions about the attacks that had taken place some time before around the world. The population was waiting for answers, and the best way to give them was to play the game with the media, which had this enormous power to sway public opinion.

  "The various assaults that the country experienced that famous day, were they of a terrorist nature?" began my friend who put his dictaphone on the table before grabbing his notebook.

  Faïz tilted his head back before returning to shoot Jul with his eyes. He loosened his tie and detached the first two buttons of his shirt to be more comfortable. With his finger, he gave the floor to Julio.

  "This uprising of revolts and massacres weren't caused by a terrorist group, but rather by a fanatical, well-organized group of rebels who pledged their allegiance to one and same person."

  "How long had they been preparing their attacks, which, I would remind you, also took place in other countries of the world?"

  Barthey cleared his throat:

  "To be honest, it's very difficult to answer you. Information agents and the CIA were alerted about a possible threat to the country over five years ago. At the time, we thought only the state of California was being targeted. We didn't stay here doing nothing all these years, no. We have acted with the utmost secrecy, arresting many of these rebels and thwarting several attacks. Counter-espionage with the cooperation of a multitude of other individuals has done a remarkable job that has gone beyond the borders of the United States. The toll would have been much higher without their help."

  Barthey threw a slight glance around the table. A heavy silence settled in the room. Faïz glanced at me with an evil gaze. His unfathomable beauty troubled me more than I would have liked. Although the pressure was enormous, Jul didn't give up and continued:

  "What motivated these warriors? Money? Ideology?"

  "We're dealing with a variety of profiles," said Michael Peyton. "But they are all nourished by a deadly hatred for all the people on Earth."

  "So you're telling me their only goal was to create chaos?"

  "That's right," replied Faïz in a sharp voice.

  "A handful of people thought they could take control of the country with a single attack," David hastened to add, feeling Faïz gradually losing his temper.

  I shook my head, looking at him with a reproachful look on my face, disapproving of his attitude of not wanting to play the game in the face of such an important interview.

  "That said, it was no small attack, but a real declaration of war. Can you say that these large-scale attacks, most of them remotely controlled from abroad, are over?"

  Jul's face clearly betrayed his fears and suspicions. Faïz, tired of sitting still, decided to get up and walk around the room while continuing to stare at my friend with his darkest eyes. He tilted his head slightly to the side before answering gravely:

  "We know that we need to make new arrangements to ensure the safety of the nation. Internal security, together with its foreign partners, alliances and external services, remains particularly vigilant with regard to the risk, in particular of rebel exfiltration into the area."

  "What about those dangerous fighters taken prisoner?"

  There was a new silence in the room. Faïz nodded to Peyton, who immediately stood up and spoke, "Individuals who adhere or have adhered to Pavel Bukovski's ideology and who have been captured in other countries or in the other states of California are not within our jurisdiction."

  The director general of the CIA took a slight pause before continuing:

  "Here, of course, they will be taken in trial and then sent to prison on an island off the Gulf of Mexico, which name is kept secret."

  "What about Pavel?"

  Jul had asked the question in a restrained and decided tone at the same time. Faïz stopped walking and looked my colleague in his face. A flash of fury shone in his endless abyss. He walked towards us. The hairs on my arms stood up.

  "What the hell are you doing, Jenkins?" I growled quietly in my teeth.

  "I think I've awakened the beast," he murmured, suddenly looking away.

  Faïz grabbed my friend's dictaphone and gently crushed it in his hand until it was completely smashed to pieces. No one around the table reacted. Everyone watched the scene without trying to stop the dark
brown haired man who seemed to have all the power in the room. Then he brought his menacing face a few inches away from Jul's face. My frightened friend sank into his chair, hoping to disappear at that moment.

  "No, stop it, leave him alone!" I stood up to come between the two of them.

  Faïz's hand rose to ask me to stay in my place. Refusing to sit down, he moved away from Jul who sighed, relieved to have been spared. Jenkins shook his head as if to put his thoughts in order and gave me a look of gratitude.

  "Put down your notebook and your pencil!" Faïz ordered angrily. "Now you can ask your questions."

  Jul swallowed.

  "How much Leviathans and Sylphs did we lose?"

  "I lost many of my brothers in arms in that fight. We weren't prepared to fight against such evil forces. I'd say two thirds of our species is extinct. That's the worst toll."

  Faïz's teeth pressed on his lips. The pain he felt at the disappearance of his own was too strong to be expressed in words.

  "Where is the Maestro?"

  "He is currently asleep and chained at the bottom of an armored box, at the care of the teams that ensure the internal security of the country. The vault is under close surveillance 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Athanasius isn't currently a threat to anyone. He is to be transported within a few days to a place that he will never be able to leave again."

  "While you were in possession of the codes to stop the nuclear attacks, why were they used too late? Europe and Asia were largely affected. Could you have prevented this?"

  "The transmission between our satellite phones wasn't good," said Ray. "We lost a lot of time. The codes were given on the road when Faïz's team was on their way to the military hospital. The toll could have been much worse."

  "Will there be a second Dome over California?"

  "I don't think that's on the agenda, but I'll let Mr. Peyton answer that question."

  Faïz, with his hands in his pockets, went back to sit in his place with an assured gait.

  "In the meantime, we recommend that the entire population get vaccinated," said Inspector Barthey on Jul's last question, after more than two hours of interview. "Although the spread of the Dn-vara 18 virus has slowed down dramatically, we have to stay alert. Deconfinement in California went well. The numbers are more than reassuring."

  "The goal is to arm the population for the long term," David added. "Otherwise, it will be impossible to eradicate all forms of future contamination. Trac-Word has succeeded where all major research groups have failed. So far, only smallpox has disappeared from the face of the earth, we must do the same with the other diseases."

  "Creating immunity in the population is the goal for the next ten years," Julio concluded by tapping his fingers on the table.

  Leaving the room, Jul took a deep breath of air. Inside, no one had spared him, but he had done well.

  "Wipe that little smile off the corner of your mouth right away," he grumbled, while putting his notebook away in his bag.

  "I'm proud of you," I said, leaning against the wall. "You did a great job in there."

  He took a deep breath.

  "Your boyfriend, he scares the hell out of me!"

  I couldn't help smiling when I heard those words.

  "He's not always like that, I assure you. Do you have what you need for the article?"

  My friend hesitated for a moment to answer me:

  "Their version seems plausible and sincere to me. I'd like to believe it, but..."

  "But?"

  "All these legends, these beings different from us and these demons... Shit! How do I explain this now?"

  "You can't!" I said, shrugging my shoulders. "The Los Angeles Times has a reputation to uphold. There will always be a perpetual struggle between good and evil, people are aware of that. Give them something that brings hope, a purpose. Don't let them drown in the paranoia and terror of tomorrow, or the Maestro will have won."

  Jul put a hand over his face and nodded.

  "You're right. I'll see you tonight at the gym? It's time for you to get back in the ring."

  I burst out with a sincere and light laughter.

  "All right, only if you promise to take it easy."

  "I promise!"

  His smile faded as Faïz appeared behind us.

  "OK, well... see you tonight then," he hastened to add.

  The two men greeted each other with a polite nod, then my colleague hurriedly left for the exit.

  Faïz approached me. His penetrating eyes twisted into mine.

  "Tell Jenkins not to screw up this time."

  I looked away. Annoyed, I preferred to look away, but his face came to stand in front of me.

  "He's not going to put whatever down on paper. He's a very good journalist. You should trust him a little more."

  "You're the one I trust. If it were up to me, he'd be out of The Los Angeles Times by now."

  Feeling at that moment the distance that was growing between us, Faïz wanted to make up for it:

  "Are you waiting for me for lunch?"

  In the face of my hesitation, his features changed, giving way to a great, almost desperate anxiety. His eyes now seemed to beg me, but his voice hardened in remorse, “This morning has been just as difficult for me. I need to cut through all of this. Please, Zoe."

  "Ok, what time?" I finally gave in.

  His face lit up and he finally smiled. Definitely, my mind was too dissipated when he was so close to me. He gave me a quick kiss on the lips and stepped back.

  "Barthey's receiving the Intelligence Star in the presence of some government officials. It's a closed-door, confidential ceremony. Besides David, Ray and I, no one else is allowed to attend. I'll call you after."

  "Congratulate him for me. He deserves it. This distinction is often given posthumously. What about you and the others?"

  Faïz shook his head before adding:

  "The rest of us are shadow heroes and, to be honest, it's better that way."

  "But the Intelligence Star is a government award, specifically for acts of extraordinary heroism within the CIA."

  "Barthey gets it for all of us. It's the same thing."

  He brought his face close to my forehead and gently rubbed his lips on my skin.

  "During lunch we will talk about where we have to go to put Athanasius back in his tomb."

  I plunged my eyes into his, questions running through my head.

  "You finally know where it is?"

  "Yes, David passed the information on to Karl and me this morning. No one else knows about it."

  He suddenly seemed worried. I questioned him with my eyes.

  "Zoe, you have to understand that the destination isn't to be communicated to anyone. It's top secret information."

  "I won't say anything. I won't. I promise. Will I like it?"

  "Yeah, I think you're gonna love it here."

  "Are we still going with Lexy and Asarys?"

  My question threw him off balance. His broad smile faded. Then he wavered as if I had slapped him. An indecipherable emotion settled on his face.

  "That's the plan," he said without looking at me.

  I squinted to try to guess his thoughts. The moment I opened my mouth, David appeared beside us. I hadn't heard him coming. He apologized for bothering us with a forced smile before addressing Faïz.

  "They're waiting for us."

  "All right, I'll walk Zoe to the exit and meet you."

  FAÏZ

  David was from now on alone with Ray in the immense room where was held, a little earlier, the journalistic interview with Jul.

  "Beautiful ceremony," Ray emphasized while leaning against the oval table.

  His gaze didn't leave the young man's who seemed increasingly uncomfortable in his company.

  "What did you want to talk to me about?" David asked straight out.

  "About the Maestro's tomb. I know you and Barthey know the exact location. And I'd like, no, I want you to tell me where it is."

  David f
elt his heart rate increase. Torn with his conscience, the time had come to make a choice that would undoubtedly be the worst of his life. Ray, for his part, knew he had to play all his cards, the life of Asarys and Lexy were at stake.

  "If you keep quiet today, they'll die. Do you want their deaths on your conscience for the rest of your life? It'll haunt you for the rest of your life. No one can live with that except someone like Faïz."

  "He's not doing it out of the goodness of his heart, believe me. He has sought by all means to deviate from this chapter of the Callis, but we can't change a prophecy. The Banshee..."

  "Don't tell me about the Banshee!" Ray shouted, violently knocking over the chair to his right with his hand.

  David, feeling things getting out of hand, stepped back. He tried to breathe in small bursts, wondering why it was always him who made the worst decisions. A lot of things came into his head. Maybe after all, Ray could really do something and change the end of the story? Save his friends who were so dear to him and keep his friendship with Zoe intact and... and...

  "Just give me the name, David. There's no weighing the pros and cons. I'll take care of the rest. You won't have any blood on your hands. Leave the regret and remorse for others. You'll have everyone with you when you marry Morgan. Isn't that what you want?"

  After several seconds, the young man swallowed and nodded his head.

  "Sefiros," he whispered.

  Ray's eyes widened, full of hope. His shoulders suddenly seemed to weigh less.

  "The Greek island?"

  "That's right," confirmed David, whose knees were threatening to give up under him.

  He was afraid of the consequences of his revelation. Panicked, he added:

  "If you want a chance to save them, you have to leave tomorrow, before anyone else does. There, I'll be in touch with you."