Strings of Retaliation – 24b – Spin

<< Previous

The driver took a sharp left that would have made me cringe if he hadn’t been driving like he knew every alleyway. His precision and assurance went beyond what a baseline navigation chip could do. He must have one specially programmed for Dubai and optimized to get me from the Lotus Arts and Technology Centre to the bunker I’m sure I had somewhere nearby.
Her eyes unfocused, Gail sat in silence, planning, through the communication chip in her head, the next steps in my protection. Her occasional frowns didn’t bode well. It wasn’t like her to retreat to the inside of her head while I might be in shock and no one else was there to take care of me. Then again, the “threat on my life” rodeo happened before. Reports had been written about my post-Saskia behavior and I had no doubt she combed through them a few times to make up for her time sleeping through the event.
The driver made another sharp left. Third in a row. I cocked an eyebrow, wishing Vexx had hacked my music chip to check up on me. Unfortunately, MerriTech clamped down when I got in trouble. Security should loosen in a couple of hours, but in the meantime, I couldn’t subtly ask for a projected destination. Looping around or backtracking might have been an efficient way to lose a tail way back when, but it didn’t do much against today’s tech. Something was up.
When the SUV behind us veered into a side street and the rest of my protection didn’t follow, I worried about Gail’s allegiance again. I didn’t like this at all.
“Gail,” I snapped. My assistant blinked a couple of times fast and focused on my face. “Talk to me.”
“I reached out to a few trusted friends that live in these parts.” Her voice was calm and confident. “Seventy-five percent of the people who knew about your security detail for tonight also know about the bunker. I don’t like these odds.”
I paled. Maybe I shouldn’t have put so much emphasis on our mole infestation. Sure, I agreed with the problem she mentioned, but not with her solution. “So you’re taking me to a stranger’s house?”
Gail pulled her jacket straighter and elongated her spine to look confident and unyielding. “I failed you twice already.” Anger at herself sharpened her words. “Forced you to defend yourself.” That sounded like the worse thing that could happen for her, short of me getting killed. “Emma would have sacked me three times over. You’re kinder.”
Oblivious to the irony of her last statement, Gail pulled a handkerchief out of the interior breast pocket of her jacket and dabbed the corner of her eyes. “I won’t let you down again. We’re going to a friend’s and that’s that.”
Either she was a hell of a manipulative bitch or truly believed she owed me proof of her skills. I couldn’t pick one for sure. “Ditch the guards that may be corrupted and go to ground,” I summed up.
“Yes.” She folded the handkerchief on her knee before putting it back in its place. “I trust a few of them with my life. They’ll secure your belongings and meet us later.”
“What about Vincent?” I hadn’t meant to stun her but realized how odd my request sounded when her eyes widened. Officially, Vincent and I were a rather new couple, which meant that unless I was a lovey-dovey airhead, I should consider him as a potential traitor. Gail knew me better than that and I watched her lips purse and twist as she struggled with the questions she would ask any other people but didn’t want to ask me.
How do you second guess the boss who did your job better than you a mere hour ago?
“You’re right,” she said answering what my question implied and not what I said. “I’ll have him escorted to us so he can’t be used against you.”
On one hand, Vexx would be severely limited in the technological miracles he could pull while under MerriTech’s watch. On the other hand, there was someone out there trying to kill me tonight. More than one someones, actually. And I hadn’t ruled Gail off the list yet. I needed the official affiliation I cared about to be safe and sound, and in a position where he might be able to help.
My jaw dropped when my eyes drifted out the window and I realized we were steadily approaching the Dubai slums.
“I know this isn’t your usual haunts,” she said, misreading my surprise and unaware of how wrong she was. “That’s the point.”
A chill ran down my spine. I had only done a couple of jobs here. Not nearly enough to build a solid network of local contacts, but enough for a few people to know me. Though I wore my Nightshade identity every time, I never bothered altering my voice. The chances of someone recognizing me based on that were too slim to oppose Gail’s plan, but it bugged me nonetheless.
“Don’t worry.” Gail leaned forward to wrap her hands around mine. “We’ll have a nice place.”
“How is a place like this on your list of resources?”
Gail blushed. “I trained with a few different cultures to open my mind to a variety of body languages and attitudes. And I’ve always had a thing for bad boys.”
Oh! Brilliant! What better place to hide out from a killer than my deadly-secretary-and-potential-enemy’s ex?
A thought hit me so square across the neurons, it took me a moment to realize I had it. Her idea was crazy, way more out of the box than I ever considered she could reach. And proposing something like this to me —the almighty Queen who could ruin her life on a whim— took a massive pair of balls.
The same pair someone would need to kill people with a handful of beads.
Or take over a massive corporation in order to terrorize it to ruins.
Not knowing whether it made me feel more secure or deeper in trouble, I grabbed the escaping thought by its tail and dragged it back to my conscious mind.
Gail is my kind of crazy.

Next chapter Tuesday >>

Strings of Retaliation – 24a – Spin

<< Previous

The body fell an inch from me and I cursed myself for trusting Saskia. She had missed my rope and hit a technician, either by design or by mistake. Knowing her reputation, ‘mistake’ was a very hard sell. I should have kept to my habits and work alone. On the off chance that she was still behind her scope, I shot a dark glance at the huge stage management window at the back of the auditorium.
Everyone was yelling and I did my best to appear suitably rattled but in control of my emotions. Too cold would draw suspicion but then, me panicking while I dangled twenty feet in the air wouldn’t look good on tomorrow’s front page.
The lights were still going on with the show, but the orchestra and acrobats skedaddled off the stage, some of them darting behind the stages’ curtains to hide. A handful stayed under me, stunned still by the blood splatters on their costumes. Then, my eyes fell on the plasma pistol a few feet away from the man’s body.
Oh crap. I suddenly felt like bait at the end of a hook line and didn’t mind at all that Saskia blew the man’s head clean off.
“Lorelei,” came Gail’s authoritative voice above me. How the hell did she get up there so fast? Was she in on it? “Make your way up to me.”
I knew I had nothing to fear from Saskia, but Gail would suspect something if I didn’t obey and got out of the line of fire. I couldn’t pretend I was too weak to do it either; she’d seen me climb twice this in seconds during training.
“Now!” Gail yelled at me, probably thinking I was in shock and needed a little kick to get moving. I didn’t have much of a choice. If I didn’t go out with her and protected my cover, the CIA would be the one escorting me to ‘safety’.
An explosion shook the catwalk and me along with it. Though I knew it was Dom’s handy work to clear Saskia’s escape and amp up the fear factor, I pulled myself to Gail in three seconds flat.
“This way.” Gun in hand, she started at a quick pace, curving an arm behind her to make sure I was following. She didn’t stopped when I lifted her jacket to grab the gun on the small of her back. She just gave me a nod of approbation when we paused at the door leading to the stairs. She’d seen me shoot before.
We furtively made our way down the staircase and met four of my assistants backstage. As her back-up formed a tight square around me, Gail tried to pluck the gun out of my hands. “You’re already enough of a target without seeming dangerous as well,” she hammered.
“Someone slipped your defences and tried to kill me. Again!”
Gail paled then shook it off and spun on her heel. Sure, attempted assassination was the point of this whole evening from the get-go, but that man had been here to kill me for real. I would be damned if I got caught off guard again tonight.
My assistants hurriedly escorted me out the back door. A bang startled me. The body of another ‘technician’ fell away from the corner he had been using for cover. I hadn’t even seen him, but my tech-enhanced bodyguard had neither hesitated nor slowed down. They almost shoved me into the limo waiting outside. Gail climbed in after me and the others packed themselves in a SUV behind us. We tore off the parking lot and weaved into the light traffic at a frightening speed, even for me.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Gail shocked the hell out of any decent excuses so I went with the truth.
“After the first attempt, I hired some people to do what you can’t.” My stab hit right where her sense of failure simmered. “Someone knew exactly how to get to me tonight. And the primary escape route.” I saw the glint of her guilt turn into understanding and harden into anger, not fear of discovery. “Who else knew about my security detail?” I added without missing a beat.
“The people in the executive shuttle, the assistants on duty and the head of security at the venue because we coordinated with them.” Her eyes fixed the city zooming past us, but her focus was on her thoughts. “And your CSO, of course.”
Chief Security Officer. The squat, bald man always took the chair at the middle of the table on the side opposite to the door during the board of detractors’ meetings. He was the silent type, which suddenly made him look very suspicious instead of guarded and calculating. I bumped him up my list of potential traitors, but I couldn’t discard the possibility of someone completely different paying to get the information from any of the people Gail listed.
“How many people knew about your extra security?” Gail failed at hiding her bitterness. At least, she tried.
“Only the three doing the actual job.” Even Gabriel didn’t know something was happening tonight. Out of concern for him as much as for me, Vexx and I carefully compartmented the information. “Please make sure to communicate with the CEO of the Lotus once the dust settles.”
The initial idea had been to blame my attacker for the hole in the window and the stunned guard, but seeing as Saskia saved my life, I had to find another story. I hoped she grabbed her beads back so no one could track the event back to her specifically. Explaining why my secondary team did what they did would be very tricky.
Why hadn’t they informed me of the attempt if they knew beforehand? And if they didn’t, how did they have all the necessary material stashed and ready to save me? But then, maybe I was thinking too much like a common people and not enough like the head of MerriTech. If my father and his faked identity were any indication, “I have my ways and a wad a cash” could be explanation enough.
My silence drew Gail’s eyes back to me. ““I’m not paying for the damage my team caused to protect me from his incompetence.”
“Am I to convey that exact message?” she asked. A half-smile appeared on her lips. She would enjoy stripping that man of any self-confidence he ever thought he had.
“You can paraphrase.”

Next >>

Strings of Retaliation – 23b – First Night Out

<< Previous

I sat the sleeping guard against the closed door. His even breath confirmed he wasn’t allergic to my beads.
What would have happened if he was? My communication chip relayed Vexx’s accusative tone perfectly.
You’re the squeamish ones, I retorted. I’m getting the job done. Allergic reaction had happened once. Yes, the guy had died because he relaxed so much he forgot to breath, but it was exceptional. Besides, my mission was to create terror and no matter how Lorelei window-dressed it, terror wasn’t clean.
Vexx coughed.
Don’t worry, Angel. I’ll follow the plan to a T. But you should both prepare for the inevitable collateral damage.
I bent to pick-up the train of my dress and gave it a couple of twists. Two clasps, hidden amongst the metallic decorations, allowed me to pin the train up against the small of my back, freeing my movement. Lorelei fashion didn’t make a lick of sense, but at least she knew what an assassin needed to get the job done. I tugged my satin gloves back up above my elbow. No fingerprints!
To your left in 200 meters, then two doors down, Vexx prompted.
I know. I started in an easy jogging, made the proper turns and headed up the flight of stairs behind the second door. A cyan plate, crisp against the taupe walls, labeled the third floor as the stage management for the Sahasrāra room. The aerial part of Lorelei’s performance required the space of the thousand-petaled lotus dome.
Three guys, all focused on the stage, Vexx informed me. He must have hacked into the security system. Visual looped.
I squatted and cautiously cracked the door open. While I plucked three beads off my dress, I edged the door further with the tip of my left foot. The guys came into view, each wearing a full-body black technician suit. To preserve their hearing, the management room was completely sound-proofed. The soundman had a pair of headphones on so he could hear the music properly, but all the other two needed to do their job —aka make sure the pre-programmed sequences ran without a hitch— was the visuals and a speaker playing the tunes at a reasonable volume.
The soundman slurped a drink and set it down without ever peeling his eyes away from the stage. He then leaned backwards, balancing his weight on the hind legs of his chair. Too easy.
I aimed for the small patch of skin between the soundman’s hairline and collar. With a flick of fingers, a bead dropped him. The thump he made when he hit the floor startled his colleagues who turned around, offering the full expense of their face for my beads to land on. The first one fell asleep towards the floor, but the second wobbled. I lunged to wrap my arms around him, and planted my feet as he started falling towards the console. Tilting him against me, I lowered him to the floor. Messing up the light show would have been a dead giveaway.
Nicely done.
I’m a professional. I pushed the door shut with my foot. Tucked in the far corner under the consoles was a mini-fridge for the technicians’ refreshments. I reached behind it where Dom had tucked a case for me. Gotcha.
Five minutes to window.
Thanks.
I freed a corner of the table by swiping the mounds of paperwork to the floor and propped the case open. A few tools rested beside the rifle and I picked the small rubber tube first. Stretching over the console, I drew a nuzzle-sized circle on the plasma-proof glass. The chemical compound sizzled as it converted the glass to harmless silicon. It would need some time.
Next, I pressed the lock against the door and its frame. I held it in place until the indicator turned red, telling me it was secure and would slow down anyone trying to come in. One push of a button and it would release so I could get out.
How fast can you assemble a rifle? Vexx asked.
A small dose of adrenaline coursed through me and I smiled. Is someone coming?
Oh! No! Sorry, that’s not what I meant. I was just curious. Lorelei spent a lot of time mastering each of her guns.
Chuckling, I pulled the canon out of the case. Not very. I don’t use guns often. Dom though…
My average marksman skills were better than Dom’s, but only because he had no patience for finesse. He was a “make plasma rain and God will sort his own” kind of marksman who could assemble anything in less than 30 seconds. Most guns under 15.
Note to self: don’t become a hostage if Dom is the only one around to save me.
Don’t become hostage, period. If it came to that, Dom would drop the gun and charge. He’s deceptively swift and agile. I plugged the plasma-generator in its support and locked it in. Between “good, he dropped the gun” and “Shit! A bear is charging me”, most guys don’t process events fast enough to avoid a crushing defeat.
I bet.
The laser sight clicked in place and I set the gun aside to peel the hole I made in the plasma-proof glass. Sound blasted in as if the whole window was gone. On the stage, Lorelei jumped from trampolines to trampolines, covering the full extent of the stage with a flock of menacing men in her wake. I steadied the rifle’s foot on the flat top of the console, aligned it with the hole and cradled it against my shoulder.
Window in fifteen seconds. Vexx’s words also meant that he wouldn’t be talking until I asked him to. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my control chip. I needed to be cold-headed, hyper aware and ready to shoot.
A rope dangled from the top of the stage and Lorelei grabbed onto it after one of her jumps. The men jumped back-and-forth between two trampolines and attempted to grab her, but she balanced herself out of the way every time. This was my window.
I aligned the rope in my sight, ready to shoot it clean off as soon as momentum would send her to land safely on one of the trampoline. Movement on the catwalks drew my attention. A technician was edging toward the rope, almost invisible in his head-to-toe black outfit. Nonthreatening. But then, light reflected on something.
Faster than thought, I aimed and squeezed the trigger. The technician stumbled off the catwalk. His body hit the stage and a gun flew out of his hand. Panicked yells rippled from the performers to the audience, all the way back to the balconies.

Next >>

Strings of Retaliation – 23a – First Night Out

<< Previous

The Lotus Arts and Technology Center stunk worse than my old digs in the Glades. Eight years, I had lived in a shoe-box near the Everglades’ floor, smack in the middle of civil engineering’s biggest failure. The ever-wet bowels of the city ate up the sewer system, leftover greenery and animal carcasses, and farted through the manholes when it didn’t build up in a corner to blow a hole in the street. The slums over here were paradise in comparison. And the sickening fragrances of the rich and obnoxious were hell.
Must be a Dubai thing.
Thanks to Vexx’s chip, I didn’t have to smell anything I didn’t want to.
I waved my fake ID in front of the sensor, all the while concentrating on blocking my sense of smell. The machine beeped a welcoming green and asked me to step through security. I half-hoped my dress sported too many metallic highlights for the guards to let me through; it would give me grounds to choose my own clothes next time. Unfortunately, the man smiled and waved me forward into the perfume cloud of the guest in front of me.
Damn it!
I had a hard time reaching the proper meditative mindset to trigger my nanobots without a place to sit in silence, but I would get better if I practiced. By the time I reached the top of the grand stairs, I couldn’t smell a thing.
Much better.
Dom stood by the door to the middle balcony. His tall and broad frame drew a few wary glances from the women walking past him. Vexx had done a great job replacing Dom’s low quality enhancements for natural-looking ones; a half-metallic body was perfect for intimidating other cage fighters, but would have clashed with the suit and tie. He was still a massive hunk of a man, though.
Besides the cosmetic work, Vexx had deactivated Dom’s remote control and self-destruction failsafe. Dom had refused the other changes. “I can’t afford to lag,” he had answered when Vexx offered him a chip like mine.
As a generation 8 SSW – was anything in my life not MerriTech? – Dom’s body couldn’t live without the nanobots. I wondered if that knowledge had played a part in his unconditional acceptance of his tech.
Dom looked me up and down with a wry smile before I entered the theater. Translation: “Material in place.”
It was a roundabout way to do things, but the perimeter security for this evening made sneaking in look like suicide even for me, and the screening at the entrance wouldn’t let me in with anything that looked like a weapon. Dom had used his contacts to get hired as security and smuggle my stuff in hours earlier. Downside? As security, he would be stuck by the door until things went bang. He had been bitching about that for the past week.
As I took my seat close to the exit, calm washed over me and settled in the pit of my stomach. I was built for this. The bittersweet thought strengthened my resolve. I also couldn’t wait to see the Pretty next to me pee his tuxedo.
I didn’t have to wait long before the lights dimmed and the room fell silent. The Pretty shifted in his seat. There was no clapping or excited cheer, but the excitement electrified the air. By now, the attendees knew what to expect. Third on the list of the most influential techno-cities, Dubai was the third city Lorelei visited, as per her marketing strategy. Tokyo, San Francisco, Dubai, Seoul… Only someone with a couple of shuttles and endless plasma supply could afford to hop along her tour without taking geographical proximity into account.
Cy walked up to the center stage in his Sunday’s best to recite the same old canned phrases. Thanks for being here. Best tour ever. Blast to work with. Yadi yada, round of applause.
The live orchestra kicked things off with a soft melody and a single follow spot lit Lorelei, looking all fragile and innocent in her flowing baby pink micro-dress.
Riiiiiight…
As she slowly danced about the stage and seemed to hit invisible walls, other lights gradually revealed the cluttered stage and the music built up in ominousness. Figures appeared among the skewed buildings. “Like a small army of judgemental men,” was how Lorelei described it to me. That was my cue.
While Miss Diva twirled, I slipped out of my seat to do the hard work. The light from the hall blinded me for a second. Dom turned to me: “May I help you, ma’am?”
“Bathroom?” I said, pointing the small corridor at the far right of the mezzanine.
“Yes,” he replied. Not that I hadn’t known; we spent a few hours studying the layout of the place. The upstairs women’s room was next to a restricted access door and the shape of the corridors hid me from the bulk of the guards. One stood by the forbidden door and flashed me a smile when I walked past. I tripped myself in the length of my dress and stumbled into his arms. He steadied me with both hands.
“Careful.” He searched my face for signs of intoxication, but I gave him a blush and a weak smile.
“Sorry. I told my designer to shorten the train, but she wouldn’t listen.” I subtly plucked one of the beads off my dress and pressed its active side against the back of his hands. “Our secret.”
His eyes rolled and closed, and his legs gave in. I wrapped one arm around him to hold him up against me.
Angel, I thought after turning on my communication chip.
Vexx’s chuckle rang in my head. I’m walking you into a heap of trouble.
You’re seeing me safely through, I countered. Is the relay okay?
Yeah. I need about 5 more s–
– The door’s lock clicked. And here I was, doing it the hard way for years.
Dom says another woman is heading your way.
Plenty of time, I thought as I opened the door and dragged the guard through.

Next >>

Strings of Retaliation – 22b – Prep

<< Previous

I bit my tongue several times during the two hours brief with the CIA. And if Vexx’s puckered face was any indication, he had a hard time keeping his mouth shut too. We managed to pull it off because Gabriel brought up most of the concerns we had in a soft and seemingly subdued manner; he asked questions as if he wanted to make sure he understood the concepts all the while pushing the CIA team leader toward the realization that some of his ideas didn’t make a lick of sense.
In the end, the always-on tracker and recording device were nixed out of the equation — anyone who had done the least bit of research on MerriTech’s detection devices would have known it wasn’t viable, which meant that they were either unprepared or that their definition of “acceptable risk” matched my definition of “cannon fodder”. I would have to wear the emergency beacon, but as long as I didn’t use it, it was just another black and pink ring. They insisted on the default spy enhancement chips, which had my stomach in knots for the fifteen minutes it took to convince them to drop it.
“I don’t care that you don’t like the tech.” The CIA guy’s pointing finger came so close to my face I could lean forward and bite it off. “It’s unlikely they’ll find out and if they do, it’ll only cost you a meaningless part of your reputation.”
“Merrilyn builds similar tech,” Gabriel hammered, calling all the attention to himself and away from my ever-shrinking patience. “Hell, they build more advanced tech! They’ll know exactly what that choice of chips is for.”
The CIA guy swallowed his retort after a few seconds of consideration, and then jumped right into the next point on his agenda: operational procedures for an extensive list of emergency situations.
Whatever… By the time my feet hit the tarmac the next day, I had forgotten most of the CIA’s trigger words and actions as I knew I would; I didn’t plan to use them, so why clutter my limited brain space? I would make it through this on my own or with MerriTech’s security; anything else would blow my cover.
“Welcome on board, Miss Beyer,” the air attendant said, her athletic physique and square stance reminiscent of army training. I remembered seeing her in my ‘assistants’ office, which made her an almost subtle and definitely overkill addition to the aircraft security.
The private shuttle was reserved to the brain trust of my world tour. I didn’t trust a single one off them, but the rich brats wouldn’t try to kill me themselves. If someone other than them was after me, they would have to blow the shuttle, and no amount of prettied up, classically trained and chip-enhanced ‘assistants’ could prevent that.
Nevertheless, I played my part, acknowledged her presence with a smile and made my way in. Ben lifted his eyes from his holographic display to give me a quick nod. Sitting at the forefront of the cabin at a workspace wider than traditional first class seats, he was busy manipulating my interview schedule. The project manager for this whole trip sat opposite him and gave me a similar too-busy-to-say-hello-and-risk-a-conversation nod.
Behind them, the main living area took half of the cabin and sat four people. Every piece of that space was movable to accommodate its multiple use. It went from lounge to dining room to conference room to individual, sectioned off workspace to private sleeping quarters, all with the tap of a button.
“Enjoying yourself?” I asked Cy who sat in his reclined seat with his eyes closed. His legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. The current configuration of the seats left plenty of space to go around. Cy’s organic fingers twined with his metallic ones, his hands resting on his flat stomach, fully relaxed.
He looked good for an half artificial grandpa, and even better when his lips stretched in a smile.
“Half the success of a tour lies in the accommodations,” he murmured. “Tech enhancements, sublime extras… hell… even I can’t keep a tired performer from sucking.”
I chuckled as the passion of his words didn’t translate to his soft tone. The man loved his contrasts and his presence would go a long way to keep me sane over the coming months.
“Rest also makes my job easier,” my personal stylist, hairdresser and make-up artist chimed from her seat behind the living space, next to another of my assistants who would act as a bridge between me and head office. Hearing the scuff of Vexx’s shoes on the carpet behind me, I took my place opposite Cy. Vexx slipped into the free seat in front of me, unbuttoning the tailor-made jacket with ease. He only wore these when he played Vincent, but no one could have known.
Gail slipped in the remaining spot in front of Cy. “As if Miss Beyer could under-perform or look less than stellar!”
“Touché.” Cy finally opened his eyes and straightened his seat.
Gail and my stylist giggled so I joined them, even though I didn’t feel like it. The sheer thought of spending several months between hotels, official events and this shuttle choked happiness right out of me. Vexx leaned forward and gave my hand a squeeze.
“Is 7am to early for you, Lorelei?” Ben asked. Whatever warmth Vexx had injected in me froze. Not hearing an immediate answer, Ben twisted in his seat to look at me. “I thought wedging a few morning shows in your schedule would help audience see you as approachable, dynamic and family-friendly.”
“Sure.” Why did I let Vexx convince me not to jump off a cliff, again?

Next chapter Thursday >>