by Mark Goodwin
Ava read the draft which Ulysses had already decrypted. “Looks like Lawrence is having a big shindig at Lure on April 12th. He’s renting out the entire nightclub for him and all his Hollywood minions. He wants them to volunteer for a public image campaign to help nurture a positive perception of the administration. Look at this guest list: writers, directors, actors, musicians. This is exactly what Blackwell was talking about.”
“And it’s exactly what we were sent here to stop,” Ulysses added.
She whispered, “Just think of how involved the entertainment industry was in swaying cultural norms when its members were simply subjected to peer pressure. Now they risk having their Social Value ranks knocked down a notch if they don’t play along. Nobody wants that.”
“It’s an added incentive, but I doubt very many people on that list needed much coercion. All these folks are true believers, revolutionaries through and through.” Ulysses sipped his overpriced coffee.
“April 12th. That’s only ten days away.”
“Then we need to start coming up with some backup plans on how we’re going to get into the city.”
“That’s just the beginning. We still need to figure out how we’re going to get into the event. It will be crawling with security.”
Ulysses nodded. “Yep. But by hook or by crook, we’re going to be at that event!”
CHAPTER 12
Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
Joshua 1:9
Tuesday morning marked nine days that Ava and Ulysses had been in California. She checked her email. “Finally! I’ve been honored with the privilege of visiting the human septic tank known as Los Angeles!”
Ulysses sat on the other bed of the hotel. “Congratulations . . . I guess.”
“Check your email. Maybe you were approved as well.”
He took the computer. “I doubt it. I didn’t get my SVA score until the end of the day Friday. Then the website was down all weekend. I couldn’t even apply until yesterday morning.” He pecked away on the keyboard. “Nope.”
“I couldn’t fill out my application until Friday. I got mine in two business days. Yours could come soon.”
“I hope so. We’ve only got four days until Lawrence has his big event.”
“Maybe I should go into the city by myself.”
“No. I’d rather sneak in together than risk you being alone.”
“I actually think it would be safer for me if I’m playing by the rules. I could apply to get a job at Lure or I could try to get hired on with the catering company who is providing the food for the soirée.”
Ulysses blew out hard to show his frustration over the predicament. “Why don’t you try calling them to see if they’re hiring first.”
“I’m thinking to dress up kinda cute. Maybe if I can talk to the right manager, he’ll find an opening for me.”
Ulysses growled under his breath as if he liked that idea even less. “You don’t have any experience in food service or nightclubs.”
“We’re talking about communism. I have a high score. It’s all about loyalty to the party, getting a job has very little to do with one’s ability.”
Ulysses paused, as if he were trying to think of more excuses for Ava not to proceed with her latest plan. Finally, he said, “Map out your intended route and call in every half hour.”
“I will, but you’re limited on what you can do if I get in trouble. We couldn’t bring guns on this trip.”
“If you don’t call in, I’ll get a gun.”
“Where?”
“I’ll take it from one of those SJL punks at the checkpoint.”
“I’m just going to fill out a job application.” Ava grimaced. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to get ready.” She got up from the bed and went to the bathroom for a quick shower.
Two hours later, the Uber dropped her off at the catering company which, according to the message in her surreptitious dead-drop email, was to be the food provider at the upcoming affair. Ava pulled down her too-short skirt and checked her lipstick before entering the office.
Her heels clacked on the bare concrete floors of the catering company. “Hi, I’m here about a job.”
The girl behind the desk looked her over with a snarl. “We’re not hiring right now.”
“Are you sure? Even part-time?”
The girl didn’t look up but simply shook her head.
“Can I speak to your manager?”
The girl pressed a button on her desk phone.
“Yes?” came a woman’s voice over the speakerphone.
“Some girl is looking for a job. I told her we’re not hiring.”
“Give her an application. Tell her we’ll call if we have any openings.” The woman hung up.
The receptionist held up a piece of paper for Ava.
As bad as she wanted to tell the girl where to stick the form, Ava forced a smile and sat down to fill out the application. She placed it on the receptionist’s desk and said, “Thank you.”
The girl behind the desk did not reply. Ava walked out and requested another Uber.
The car arrived a few minutes later. Ava got in.
“Ma’am, you know Lure is not open at this time?”
“That’s fine. I’m trying to get a job.” She looked down at her phone to try to avoid further conversation with the driver as he drove across town to Sunset Boulevard.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived. “This is the club, ma’am.”
She looked at a double-wide wooden door on a wall covered with ivy. “I don’t see any signs. Are you sure?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How do I get in?”
The driver looked at the rearview mirror. “I don’t know. Maybe they have an entrance for deliveries in the back.”
“Can you drive around to see?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The driver took her around the block. A steel roll-up door was half open.
“Thanks!” She exited the vehicle and proceeded through the warehouse-style entrance. No one was around so she meandered through the club looking for a manager.
“Hi, can I help you?” A girl’s voice came from behind.
Ava spun around. “Oh yeah, hey! I was wondering if you might be hiring?”
“What position?” the young slender girl asked.
“Cocktail waitress?”
“Probably not. Have you ever tended bar?”
“No,” Ava replied.
“Sorry. Maybe try back another time.” The girl offered a pleasant smile.
“Thank you. Could I fill out an application for you to keep on file—just in case something opens up?”
“Um, yeah, I guess that would be okay. You can have a seat at the bar. I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks.” Ava had no intention of sitting at the bar. If this was to be her only opportunity to reconnoiter the premises she’d make the most of it. She walked around from the outside patio through the various spaces in the club. She made a mental note of all the exits, bars, and bathrooms.
A tall man in his late forties with a beard, short hair, and large-rimmed dark sunglasses walked in from outside. He wore dark jeans, a white shirt, and a dark vest. “Is someone helping you?” His accent was distinctly British.
“Yes, the young blonde girl from the office, she’s getting me an application. Are you the manager?”
“I’m Roman, the owner.” He looked at Ava’s muscular thighs and calves.
She waited uncomfortably for his eyes to make their way back up to her face. “Nice to meet you.”
“What position are you applying for?”
“Cocktail waitress, but I could be a hostess as well.”
Roman walked behind the bar and pulled down a bottle of tequila. He poured himself a shot. Even though no lights were on inside, he still did not remove his sunglasses. “What’s your SVA score?”
“Nine.”<
br />
“I don’t have any full-time positions right now, but we have a special event this weekend. The host is . . . sort of picky. A lot of Hollywood’s elite will be here and they don’t want any staff with an SVA score below eight to be working. It’s a political thing—kind of like a fundraiser but not really. I don’t actually know what they’re doing. But they’re renting the club for the evening so they can do whatever they like as far as I’m concerned. I’m not going to start laying people off because they don’t have a high enough SVA score, but this sort of thing may become a trend. If you’d be willing to help me out for this weekend’s gala, it could become a full-time gig in the future.”
He threw back the shot of tequila and looked Ava up and down once more. “You look like you’d fit in rather nicely around here.”
“Oh! There you are!” The little blonde girl came by with the application. “I was looking all over for you!”
Ava hoped Roman wouldn’t realize that she’d been snooping around. “Thank you.” She took the application. “Sure. I can work this weekend. Do I still need to fill this out?”
Roman poured himself another shot. “No. Tiffany will have you fill out a W-4 form. She’ll have to verify your SVA score. Come in Friday night. I’ll have you follow Mercedes so you can get the lay of the land. Then you’ll more or less know where things are for Saturday.
“Some of our clients can be a bit rude on occasion. You don’t have to take any unwanted advances or anything, but we do expect you to be cordial, even with guests that may be less than pleasant. Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, sir.” Under any other circumstances, Ava would never put herself in such a position, but this operation was for all the marbles.
“Good. Be here at nine on Friday night to start setting up. We open at eleven. Seven o’clock on Saturday. The event begins at ten, but they’ve given us an excruciating list of demands, so set up is going to be a bear.”
“Thanks again.”
“Come on, we’ll get your paperwork knocked out,” said Tiffany.
Two hours later, Ava walked into the hotel room. “I’m in! I got the job!”
“No kidding!” Ulysses looked up. “I would say thank God, but I’m waiting to see how this plays out.”
“It’s going to be alright.” She kicked off her heels.
“Why don’t you put on something a little more modest, and we’ll go have dinner out of the room. We can eat at the steakhouse across the street.”
“Okay.” She smiled and went to the bathroom to change.
At dinner, Ava made a rough sketch of the club on the hotel notepad she’d brought for just such a purpose. “I’m training Friday night, so I’ll be able to draw a better map before Saturday. I only saw one door on the front, then the delivery door and one fire exit.”
Ulysses pointed at a box on the notepad. “You said this area is a courtyard, right?”
“Yeah, but it has barbed wire hidden under the vines.”
“A jacket thrown over barbed wire can keep it from snagging you. But one exit is all I need anyway. We’ll be long gone by the time Lawrence starts feeling the effects of the nerve agent.”
“Now we have to figure out how we’re going to get you in,” she said.
“Check out that fire door when you go in to train. If we can disconnect the alarm, maybe you can bump it open and let me in.”
“That should work. I won’t have any trouble sneaking in the VX since it looks like hand sanitizer.”
Ulysses shook his head. “No. I’ll bring it when you let me in. Lawrence will have heavy security. They may search the staff regardless of their SVA scores.”
“But if you can’t get in for some reason, we’ll miss our chance. If I have it, I can still make a play.”
Ulysses said, “No, I’m not going to budge on this one. If I can’t get in, we’ll scrub the mission.”
Ava was familiar with that determined look in Ulysses’ eyes. She didn’t bother arguing. “So, how are we going to get the VX on Lawrence?”
“I guess I’ll bump him with it.”
“What if he’s in a VIP area where you don’t have access?”
“Then you’ll have to get me in.”
Ava looked at the thick varnish on the wooden table. She wondered how well her father was going to fit in. His lazy eye and long scar down his mouth and neck didn’t exactly make him look like someone who belonged in a posh nightclub. “We’re going to have to get you an outfit. And maybe some sunglasses.”
“It’s at night.”
“I know, but trust me on this one. I think you’ll fit right in.”
Ulysses grumbled under his breath but did not dismiss the plan.
Ava thought for a while and finished her ice tea. “What if you tripped, spilled a drink on Shane Lawrence? Then I could come to the rescue with a towel and dry him off.”
“The VX would be on the towel.” Ulysses considered the move. “And you’d have on clear plastic gloves. Because any contact with the VX on your skin will be lethal.”
“Yes. I’ll wear gloves.”
Ulysses nodded. “Okay then. Let’s put a pin in that.”
“Great.” Ava grinned big and pulled out her phone. “The mall in Valencia is still open. Let’s go find you a disguise after dinner.”
He sighed. “You look like you’re enjoying this a little too much.”
CHAPTER 13
Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.
Matthew 22:36-40
Saturday evening, Ava stood in front of the mirror in the hotel bathroom putting on her makeup.
Ulysses walked up behind her. “Remember, if I get in trouble tonight, just get out of there. We’ll rendezvous at Staybridge Suites in Vegas. It’s off the beaten path and south of the main strip, so we’ll pass by fewer surveillance cameras.
“Ditch all of your IDs and credit cards associated with Tamara Jones. You’ll use your secondary alias to get back to the Alliance States. If I’m not at the Vegas hotel twenty-four hours after you arrive, head straight to Utah without me. I’ll meet you back at the house.”
Ava hated hearing contingencies for when things went wrong. It was a terrible reminder that things usually went wrong. She continued her liberal application of eyeshadow. “I’m sure you’ll reciprocate.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I get hemmed up at the club, you’ll go on without me. Wait for me in Vegas for twenty-four hours, then head home?”
Ulysses cracked a nervous smile and put his hand on hers. “Ava, I have a different skill set than you. I’m better equipped to effect your rescue. If you stick around, I’ll have to get myself out of a jam, then I’ll still have you to worry about.”
She couldn’t think about any of that. Ava had to stay focused on the task at hand. Allowing her mind to venture into the territory of what-ifs would bring more harm than good. “Nothing is going to go wrong this time. It can’t.”
Ulysses nodded. “I wish it were as simple as that. But maybe you’re right. Let’s pray that we pull it off without a hitch. But just in case, stick to the backup plan.”
“I really think you should reconsider letting me carry the VX in my purse.”
“Absolutely not,” he replied precipitously. His tone softened. “I’m going to destroy the hard drives on the computers if you don’t need them for anything else.”
She transitioned to her eyeliner pencil. “I can’t exactly send Foley an email, so I guess I’m done with them. I’ll be glad when this is over with.”
“Me, too.” Ulysses walked away to dispose of their electronic footprints.
Ava continued to put on her makeup. She looked deep into her own eyes in the mirror. She wondered if she
might catch a glimpse of her soul if she stared hard enough and long enough. And if she were to be successful in such an introspective venture, she pondered whether or not she’d like what she saw. “Who am I?” she whispered to the stranger in the mirror.
Ava thought back to the first life she’d taken, the hooligan on the bridge. No doubt, in that situation, it was him or her. Little did she know at the time, but he was to be the first of many. She’d felt no sense of moral dilemma whatsoever over the ruffian on the bridge. Likewise, the people she’d killed in various gun battles over the past months, it was self-preservation.
But the insurgency campaigns, they haunted her memories, and often her dreams. She’d felt remorse over her role in the gun collection point bombings, but there was one face she could never erase. “Delaney.” The boy from the stadium bombing visited her often, both when she was asleep and when she was awake. She wondered what he might have become had he not been indoctrinated, poisoned by the culture, brainwashed into becoming a soldier for the regime. Unlike the other bombing victims, she’d seen his horrific demise up-close and personal.
Yet, with this next action, she would graduate to another level. She’d progressed from being someone willing to take a life in self-defense to someone who would kill with the most vulgar implements of death available to mankind. And on this night, she would dive into the very bowels of hell; she would become an assassin.
Ava thought about her father’s warnings so many months ago. “War will change you, and there’s no coming back from it,” she whispered to the stranger in the mirror.
She meditated on the evening’s program. She inquired of her innermost being, “Can I do this? Should I do this?”
She had not yet left the hotel, so backing out was still an option, albeit a bad one. Ava considered who she’d be letting down if she walked away. “Foley doesn’t even know about it—if he’s still alive, that is. Charity has no idea of the particulars. Dad never wanted to do it in the first place. He’d be thrilled if we simply packed up and went home.”