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Awakened Page 10
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Satisfied for the moment, he strode back through to his office and sat down at his desk. Taking a sip of mocha, he found he was quite happy with the way his life was these days. Power. Respect. And money, the kind that bought good mocha and comfortable surroundings. He certainly enjoyed owning this house in one of the most expensive districts in the Central Systems jurisdiction.
He just needed to get this part of the speech nailed, in case Andus asked to see it. Then he would make that call and deliver the good news about the loose end that was being wrapped up.
His gray eyes dropped back down to the holo screen to continue working on his speech.
Parade Ground, Nefertiti Military Base, Central Systems
“Hello, dear.”
“Mom?”
Molly felt dizzy, and the light in her eyes was so bright. She squinted, trying to see her mom.
“We came to see you.”
Molly watched as her mom and dad approached her from the stands. She was at a parade. Her graduation parade. Cadets and parents made a crowd and a hubbub of activity all around her.
Part of her felt at peace, yet in the pit of her stomach, she felt bad. Like she had done something terrible.
She was in full military gear, having just graduated from basic training. She was going to be a scientist for the military. But she didn’t feel proud. She felt embarrassed.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” her mom’s voice came through beyond the light in her eyes. She shielded her eyes a little and she could see her mom more clearly. Molly’s dad was next to her. Just as he always was.
She could smell her mom’s best perfume. Her father was wearing one of his posh suits; one that he only pulled out for weddings and other special occasions. Mom was even wearing lipstick, which looked odd on her. Kind of out of place.
“I just feel so wrong, mom. I shouldn’t be here.”
“But, sweetie, this is what you wanted.” Her mom cooed as if Molly were just being silly.
“We want you to know we’re very proud of you,” her dad leaned in and told her.
Molly looked up at her father. She knew he meant it, but deep down she wasn’t proud of herself. She felt so ashamed.
Her mother nudged her father.
The Sark beat down on them, and the crowd was overwhelming. Molly was getting uncomfortable in her uniform, all layers and tassels. It was like graduating from college. She felt stupid and unattractive.
“We just want you to know how very proud of you we are,” her mom was saying once more.
All Molly could see was the envelope that her father was pulling out of his jacket pocket to hand over to her.
A blood spot appeared on it.
She looked up to see where it had come from.
Her mother smiled her best public smile; the one she would use at school events when she was trying to convince everyone how proud she was of her daughter, and by extension, what a good mother she was.
As Molly watched the envelope, the blood spot got bigger and bigger as it soaked through the paper, until the whole thing was covered in blood.
Panic rose up in Molly’s stomach.
Her father was oblivious to the blood. He was asking Molly, “Aren’t you going to take it? Don’t you want it?”
Molly couldn’t move. Paralyzed and unable to even speak or scream, she felt her heart beating out of her chest.
---
Molly awoke, hyperventilating—the brightness of the parade and crowd replaced by the darkness of her room in the safe house. It was cold and damp and she was alone, even though she could feel the lingering sense of the crowd and her parents.
Waiting for her heart rate to return to normal, she noticed the adrenalin—how it made her anxious and sick all at the same time. The image of the blood, and the feelings of shame and inadequacy seemed to pulse through her system.
She wiped at her face, and let her head hang in her hands a moment. She felt wet.
She realized she was drenched in sweat.
Her heart hurt.
Her parents had tried to help her.
They hadn’t been at the parade, but they had sent her a video message afterwards explaining everything. Molly knew they meant well. They tracked her down, despite her best efforts to disappear. But if she wasn’t ready to forgive herself, then there was no way she would let anyone else.
She lay back down and tried to calm herself. Trying to breathe, she waited for the awful sensations to pass.
She felt like shit.
Maybe one day she would be ready, but today was not that day.
Private limo, somewhere on the F338, near Spire
Dewitt’s name flashed up on Andus’ holo. Mr. Luc Andus held up one finger to silence the woman on his left as he took the call.
“Is it done?” he asked, his voice cold and quiet.
“My people were in pursuit about twenty minutes ago. If it isn’t done yet, it will be very soon.”
“I have trusted you to take care of this. There are bigger things that need our full attention.”
“Yes, sir. I thought you would be pleased to know it is in hand. The speech is also ready for review. I thought you might appreciate the option of having it looked over by one of your people. We agreed it was important for this address to set the right tone, and…er, emphasis.” He said the last word as if it were code.
Andus nodded, even though the caller wouldn’t see. “For the bill that is about to be passed. I’m assured we have adequate support, but, yes, public perception is important. Send it to my holo, if you would.”
“Very good, sir. Will that be all?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The holo disconnected.
Andus drew in a deep breath. He was long enough in the tooth to know when something was going to shit, and this latest disturbance with one of Dewitt’s employees only went to confirm what his gut had already told him.
“Was that him?” asked the stunningly manicured woman sitting next to him.
“Yes, our former friend, Mr. Dewitt.”
“Former friend?” she clarified, as if she hadn’t already guessed what was in play. Jessica Newld was a highly astute political genius. She could predict the way the winds of favor would blow several steps out. Her father had taught her chess as a metaphor for watching the bigger picture…and the smaller details.
“Yes, former,” Andus confirmed. “It seems his loyalties have swayed. He has something that might expose us, and I would feel more comfortable if this were no longer in the equation.”
Jessica glanced over at him, humor glimmering in her eyes. “Am I to take this to mean that you are going to remove anyone who has a little dirt on you?”
His cold gray eyes met hers.
“Should I be worried?” she grinned brightly.
He pulled his attention away and looked straight ahead through the glass panel between them and the driver, fixing his eyes on the road.
Jessica, sensing her playfulness wasn’t being well received, tried again. “This is the incident with the server being hacked?” She used her boardroom voice.
“Not hacked, Ms. Newld; just downloaded. Casually. By two employees.”
She knew this. She’d read the encrypted memo. But as Daddy had taught her, it was important to get people to say these things out loud. To vocalize their discontent. It made them more likely to follow through on their feelings, as they would subconsciously seek to avoid cognitive dissonance. That meant they wanted to avoid making themselves liars, he had told her. It also engendered trust. At least in male Sarkians.
“Oh, dear. But this happens. Surely you don’t suspect something more sinister?”
Andus suspected she was playing dumb. He knew her act well, having helped her rise to power over the span of her relatively short career. He could almost predict where she would let her accent lilt, in perfect placement to engender just enough softness to appear harmless.
He knew better, though. She was like a black widow once she locked onto a target
. Not unlike himself in many ways.
Still, he didn’t mind humoring her. On some level he knew he should engage in social pleasantries. “Well, the information that was stolen would expose us all. You, me, and our trusted friends. The only reason to have been keeping that kind of intelligence would be to provide proof, either to leverage us, or to hand over to authorities.”
Jessica’s face fell as she began to feign realization. “He was keeping it to use against us…”
Andus nodded solemnly.
“By my ancestors, where is the trust anymore?!” Her new pretend outrage was evident across her perfectly made up face. Her eyes flashed with the kind of annoyance brought about only by a lifetime of entitlement—and practice.
She shifted in her seat to look out of the window.
Safe house, fifty kilometers west of Uptarlung
Molly ambled into the kitchen, drawn by the smell of pancakes and mocha. The sphinx had spent the rest of the night on Molly’s bed, snuggled up against her legs. Now, following her to the kitchen, it seemed he’d found his new mommy.
I wonder how long it’s going to take him to realize that I’m about as maternal as a rhesus monkey reared for the lab? mused Molly.
Oz didn’t understand the reference, and remained unengaged.
Probably working on something busy and important.
“…yes. Yes. I understand. We’ll be there as soon as we can. It’s a two-hour ride, and we will need to grab our gear. Hang tight.”
Joel hung up on his holo.
“Calls before breakfast?” Molly queried with raised eyebrows. She broke off a piece of pancake from a plate of food Joel had already laid out for her.
“We got ourselves a case. An urgent one. Extraction, over in Spire.”
He turned off the heat under the protein cubes he had been frying.
“What’s the story?” Molly asked, pouring herself half a mug of mocha. It was probably more than what she had time for by the sounds of it, but decided she would drink whatever she could get down while Joel quickly briefed her.
“Guy came to me shortly after the Health Corp case broke on the news. Said he would need our services, but that he needed to get his ducks in a row. I told him to call when he was ready.”
He paused, eyebrows raised, staring down at Molly. Molly was slurping her mocha, but stopped when she realized it was interrupting him.
Joel continued.
“Well, he’s ready now. Apparently his employer, a high-level politician, knows he’s been stealing files that are incriminating to the nth degree. He swears he didn’t intend to use them or to blackmail him, but there’s no knowing for sure. He could be a dirtbag. But then, he could just be a guy who has accidentally gotten tied up in some bad shit that is going down.”
“Which do you think he is?” Molly tilted her head at him, clinically curious as to how Joel would make such an assessment.
“Either. Both. I don’t know. But he’s offering us ten thousand credits to extract him from a hotel in Spire. It seems he’s being tracked by the politician’s heavies. His life is in danger. I think we can help.”
“Well, Ansans Ari, I’m in. What are we doing, standing around making breakfast? We have a life to save!” She sounded irritated as she snapped into operations mode.
They’d been taking things easy because they didn’t have a case, but now it was urgent. And their asses weren’t moving already.
Joel watched her leave, dazed by the sudden activity and distracted by the tank top she had already started taking off as she disappeared out of the door.
He shook the thought from his head. Gear. I need to assemble gear for an attraction. Damn it—an extraction. EX-traction.
CHAPTER NINE
Fourteen minutes later they were in the car steaming towards Spire slightly above the speed limit. Heck, the last thing they wanted was to get pulled over, as Oz had logically pointed out.
Oz had also suggested that maybe Joel needed to adapt to the civilian environment if he was going to survive future missions. Molly thought it best to not communicate that to him right now though.
Might I make a suggestion?
You mean another one?
Molly continued with her weapons check and her mental checklist, making sure they had everything they would need to go into a potentially hostile extraction.
If you allow me to hook into the car’s system, I will be able to look after it and bring it to whichever exit would be most useful to you.
Sounds like a plan. Actually, you know, Oz, it’s like having another team member on our side. That’s a great idea.
Good. Accessing now. I can also optimize our route and driving experience to get us there faster.
Make it so…
“Hey! What the fokk…!” Joel’s hands started agitating, as if he were fighting with the steering wheel.
The steering wheel was clearly winning.
“Oh, shit. Sorry, Joel.” Molly realized what was happening.
“This is you?” he jerked a look over at her.
Molly couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. Well, it’s Oz. He’s…erm…taking over the driving, I guess. He’ll man the getaway too.”
He flung a hand up, “A little heads up would go a long way. Hell! That could have been a mechanical error, or a busted inner core, or…anything! For fuck’s sake!”
Joel was clearly more rattled than he would have been with an actual problem. But then, an actual problem he would know how to fix.
“Touchy, eh? Hope you don’t lose your shit if things go sideways in a real crisis,” Molly teased, seeing if she might get a reaction.
Recovering himself, Joel took his feet from the pedals and sat awkwardly in the driver’s seat, watching the car drive itself.
Or, rather, watched his task being usurped by a glorified Tamagotchi.
She continued, “I didn’t think he was going to take over right away. He just asked about access.”
“Sounds like your version of an apology,” he grumped, noticing her attempt at the people relations thing.
“Don’t get too used to it, dickwad. I just need you on your game.” She looked over to him and smiled before changing the subject and attempting to be professional again. “Which hotel did you say our package is in?”
“Mandeli. No room number yet. He was in the cab en route.”
“That’s okay, Oz can find that, and the floor plans, too.”
Room 410.
Bloody hell that was fast!
We aim to please.
And what’s with your snappy repartee all of a sudden? What have you been using to teach yourself integrated language?
I found a bunch of archived shows in your cloud storage. I’ve been reviewing some of the video files in the hours when you have been asleep or boring.