The Ruling Impulses

by Francesco Portone

  The romance was interrupted by the concierge, Rudolph Latimer, who wanted to let them know that the suites were ready and he was honored to offer them an excellent Renoux champagne bottle and fresh fruit. Zakhar Sarkov was about to tell him they would wait a little longer, but Lucinda took him off guard and confessed that she would gladly take the chance to rest a few minutes. She added a catch you later which left a little bitter taste in Sarkov's mouth.

  The meeting took place in a room with a long oval table, in the afternoon of the same day, around five o'clock. Nine people attended, including Zakhar Sarkov and Lucinda Merritt. Formal introductions were made, yet Lucinda forgot their names within a fraction of a second. Sarkov introduced her to his partners as a legal counsel, although the practice of being assisted by counselors expert in self-defense and counter-espionage was well-known already. Lucinda noticed only after several minutes that the participants were all middle-aged men. Sarkov showed off an excellent speech, discoursing each topic, even very technical ones, with fluency and charisma. More than in interaction and confrontation with others, the meeting essentially took the form of a monologue by Sarkov, who basically dealt with financial and strategic aspects of his own industrial group. The other participants immediately appeared to be a mere supporting cast, almost like remote controlled robots, by the way they periodically moved their heads, just nodding every now and then. Lucinda was annoyed by that submissive and servile attitude. Among other things, that situation was getting boring, both because she felt little involvement with the matters discussed, and because of the almost total absence of dialogue. Indeed, although she was aware of not knowing much about how business meetings were held in large industrial groups, it seemed strange to her, however, that there was no confrontation or participation and that many people traveled miles and miles to attend a soliloquy, or something. Not only was there no trace of dissent, but Lucinda had also a feeling that some of the men sitting at the table did not even have a clear knowledge of the subjects. Sarkov was not even looking them in the eye, it almost seemed that he was thinking to himself in an empty room. The rare moments in which he got out of the trance was when he turned to meet Lucinda's gaze or to steal some secret hidden in the folds of her suit.

  At the end of the so-called meeting, Zakhar Sarkov got up abruptly, nodded a goodbye to the audience and left the room in a hurry. He asked Lucinda Merritt to follow him and they headed for the bar of the hotel.

  «Your partners love chatting, don't they?», Lucinda said ironically. Sarkov was taken by surprise and downplayed, making it clear that his colleagues and business partners already knew what to do and there was no need to spend too much time on explanations.

  They sat down at a table and Sarkov ordered two glasses of white wine. Lucinda, not yet satisfied, returned to the previous subject. Since the mission had begun, she had felt like her presence was unnecessary; moreover, she got bored listening to Sarkov's sermon, so she had to shed some light on that thing. The Georgian tycoon would pay a large sum, yet that was not a good reason not to investigate unusual situations.

  «Business meetings are certainly a nuisance by themselves», Lucinda hinted at it. «And if one can't have his say and doesn't even speak a single word... after such a long trip... well, it mustn't be funny...»

  Zakhar Sarkov's face darkened for a moment, then he took the goblet and held it up.

  «Forget about it, we should rather toast our fruitful collaboration», he said, and it sounded like a sentence. Lucinda indulged him without adding anything. Sarkov then diverted the topic of the discussion to talk about her, about how well dressed and charming she was. In his opinion, a special connection was being established between them and he hoped Lucinda would agree. Lucinda avoided answering but, to give him back some of the inordinate kindness with which Sarkov had been flooding her for some time, she decided to ask him a handful of courtesy questions, starting from business and ending with family. Zakhar Sarkov smiled slyly, sensing that she had introduced those subjects just out of politeness and perhaps she aimed to extend the conversation and then ask again about the business meeting. The Georgian returned to sender that new attempt to extract information: he was a leader, there was no way to steer a conversation to topics for which he had no interest, nor make him open up on confidential matters. Too authoritarian and self-confident to allow the first comer to invade his privacy and induce him to provide information, if it was not strictly necessary.

  Having had enough of all that chatter, Sarkov at one point got up and - always acting with some haste - motioned to Lucinda to follow him, and so they went to his suite. The firmness of his proposal left no room for other options. During the meeting his wishful eyes had sought her furtively, now his behavior became less friendly, almost elusive.

  Sarkov pointed out to Lucinda that, if she was hungry, they would contact room service, then he opened a bottle of champagne. Lucinda was reluctant to accompany him on that new enological journey, having she already emptied several cups and goblets from the moment she entered his limousine. Sarkov handed her an almost full glass, without asking her if she wanted to drink. The rather gentle ways, which he had shown her so far, were little by little turning into a resolute and somewhat arrogant pragmatism. Lucinda began to feel a little uncomfortable. She had left field work for years now, focusing on being a good manager. Some situations did not suit her anymore, such as dealing with customers' mood swings or entertaining people in a hotel room. She had lost much of that flexibility which was necessary in the business world, to adapt to moody or capricious customers and show others to feel at ease, in every context. And with regard to that strange mission, she came to the conclusion that that boring task was practically completed - and with very little effort. She felt like she had been invited to one of those ceremonies that lasted for hours and hours and the last minutes before leaving seemed endless. She experienced a compelling need to light a cigarette to fill that awkward wait. She hesitated for a moment. She did not remember seeing Sarkov smoking so she did not know if it would bother him. Zakhar Sarkov was from behind, and he seemed to be rummaging in his luggage. So she took the lighter and fiddled with it a little. Various images passed through her mind, various tasks she would have to manage in the following days. She sighed. She then put the cigarette to her lips but Sarkov - who in the meantime had finished rummaging - prevented her from doing so, virtually sealing them with his index finger. Sarkov backed away slightly, continuing to show her the index as if he wanted to hypnotize her. Lucinda followed his finger with her eyes until the charmer took off his jacket and turned his back to pick something from a drawer. He then took a few steps and stood behind Lucinda who was sitting in an armchair, he leaned forward a little and moved her hair, leaving her neck naked. Lucinda had no idea what was happening until she realized that Zakhar Sarkov had placed a necklace around her neck. A wonderful gold necklace studded with precious stones, with a pendant depicting the eye of Ra. The tycoon gently kissed her right shoulder blade and the young businesswoman instinctively touched the spot where Sarkov had kissed her, then her hand slipped below the neck, right over the pendant. So she turned to Sarkov, chasing his eyes for explanations. The Georgian took her hand gently to invite her to stand up. He fleetingly stroked her cheeks with his thumbs and then approached her with his eyes closed, as if to force her to kiss him. Weakened by bitterness and frustration, Lucinda Merritt offered a feeble resistance, aware that her self-respect had been severely put to the test too many times. Zakhar Sarkov had assumed that he would meet greater resistance and, as he did not find any, he felt entitled to deepen his knowledge of the sinuous and athletic body of the entrepreneur. At first he explored her belly, which seemed firm and not too small, then put his right arm around her hip, slowly running his fingers through the skirt, until he touched her bottom. Lucinda shuddered, judging Sarkov's move too hasty. Zakhar Sarkov continued for a little while, massaging her gently, then stopped and led her to the humble bed he had booked for just two thousand credits
a night.

  With each passing minute, the tycoon was getting more and more confident, showing all his experience with hotel rooms. Lucinda, for her part, began to fear she had been too impulsive in agreeing to lay down with him so hurriedly, and so defenseless. Sarkov's manners soon became rough and cold, as if he had repeated that practice time and time again. Lucinda therefore wished that he would stop or at least finish soon. Perhaps she had mistakenly thought she could fill that emptiness inside, which was expanding day by day, with a fling, a bit of luxury and a charming venue. It had not helped, unfortunately. She did not feel any better and did not even have the strength to protest. She could not even make a little sound, nor the slightest moan, so as to push Sarkov, who was rhythmically moving above her, to stop.

  She was living a period of emotional frailty. Her twenty-nine years, perhaps still few, were already weighing heavy on her. She felt like she was at the end of a long cycle she had faced head-on and holding her breath, throwing herself headlong into work. Now that she had fulfilled herself professionally, she was at a watershed: would she bring order to her love life? Or would she carry on with her work regardless of everything else, even knowing that it was an ineffective palliative? Would she look for new challenges? Her ability to react had decreased over time and in situations like that, all the difficulty in taking a clear, determined stance emerged.

  That feeling of powerlessness brought down the scaffolding of a secure and self-referential woman, behind which she often hid. She tried to stop them, but in the end she let the tears fall down like rain. Zakhar Sarkov, astonished, stopped his momentum and peered at her for several seconds. Lucinda, then, squeezed her eyelids tight, hoping the Georgian would not notice and ask for explanations. Sarkov, in response, got up from the bed in disgust, took the card holder from his jacket pocket, grabbed two or three credit cards and angrily threw them at her.

  «Take it and go away!», he contemptuously said.

  Despite being prepared for a possible burst of anger, Lucinda Merritt let herself be taken by surprise and for several moments remained as paralyzed, helpless. Once got over the shock, she felt her heart beating faster and faster and her breathing got heavy. Before she could understand herself what was happening, she found herself taking a feline leap and grabbing her laser gun, pointing it at the tycoon's head with all the anger inside her.

  «You damn bastard!», Lucinda shouted.

  Sarkov was pleased with that unexpected move and replied smugly: «Here's finally the real woman for whom I paid all that money!» He had a big, fat laugh, clearly making fun of her, then got dressed like nothing happened, under Lucinda's astonished gaze.

  «If you're thinking of using it», the Georgian told her, as he noticed that she was still aiming her gun at him, «you better do it now.»

  So he quietly opened the door and left the sumptuous room behind him, closing with the same kindness he had displayed in all his previous approaches. Once alone, Lucinda Merritt lowered the laser gun, rested her head on the pillow and let herself go into a cleansing cry.

  Chapter X

  Kate Ramos had not thought back to the espionage escapade of the previous week. They had been very intense days in which she had also had few opportunities to relate to other colleagues, busy reviewing reports and preparing plans. Among other things, even if late, the documents she had requested had finally arrived, so she had not happened to dwell on the curious absences of those days. As far as she had noticed, the corridors were still very quiet, empty in some cases. There was an unusual silence within the building, considering that summer was almost gone. She was in a bad mood, in any case, and had no desire to think about all the weirdness happening in her company, she just wanted to do what was required and go back home as soon as possible, without asking further questions. And that was what she would have presumably done even in the following days, if a disturbing factor had not intervened. She noticed, in fact, that that singular message exchange between the three companies, Leigh Madison Enterprise, Minneman Company and Evendorf, had just been resumed and once again it was encrypted messages. Needless to say, her clearance level did not allow her to examine them. She reacted angrily, because she knew she would have to investigate the matter, if only to know the contents of those messages. The problem was that she didn't want to. That short euphoria phase made of gossip and unbridled curiosity was over, she no longer wanted to get involved in matters bigger than herself.

  She called her trusty teammate Tom Bertold, but had no answer. She then tried Blair Santucci, from Tom's office: same result. On the second failed attempt, Kate frowned and tried to contact other colleagues in random order, but only got a not now as an answer from George Connors of Legal Department. Impatient, rather than intrigued by it, she directly called her superior, Malcolm Dietrich. She would improvise something to get a hearing, if necessary. Dietrich, unexpectedly, answered her call and he even seemed to be amenable, accepting the request to be summoned to his office for unspecified clarifications.

  Malcolm Dietrich was certainly not a playful man. Tall, white-haired and slim, he was an extremely serious person. Loyal, but unwilling to joke. He demanded compliance with deadlines and objectives and was also able to generate guilt in the event of non-compliance.

  Kate therefore entered his office with circumspection, not persuaded by that unexpected and surprising affability, ready to discover the deception and respond appropriately. She found her boss in the waiting position, with the back of the chair slightly reclined and with his hands clasped on his stomach, as if to take a nap.

  «Come in, Ramos, come in», he urged her as soon as he saw her. The secretary showed she was at ease, but at the same time she wanted to look a little upset, so as to give more emphasis to what she was about to say. At first she reassured him that the reports and graphs he had requested had been completed within the deadlines, which was still superfluous because he was certainly already aware of that. Kate considered, however, that indulging in self-congratulation could be useful to justify subsequent non-business related questions. She tiptoed around the matter for a couple of minutes, then, not knowing how else to introduce such a specific subject, she chose to blurt it out; perhaps, if she sounded naive she would cast less suspicions. She asked him if he knew about the correspondence with Minneman and why even she was not allowed to read it. Dietrich tried to belittle, referring to the well-known legal issues between the two companies. Predictable answer, Kate thought. She then asked about Evendorf and what they had to do with that situation.

  «Sit down, Ramos», he said. It was an order rather than an invitation. «Take some fresh tea.»

  Kate Ramos agreed. If she intended to shed light on what was now becoming a real enigma, she had to show herself at ease and as relaxed as possible. She just made a comment on how good that drink was, to divert attention and not to show to be too suspicious, or even obstinate. She took three measured sips, and then looked at him questioningly, waiting for clarifications. He gave the appearance of not remembering the question, then he sketched a smile and slipped away, claiming that he did not know all the details and that, if necessary, she would have to ask John or Jane Doe of Legal Department for news.

  «Next question?», Dietrich added, still smiling. He was not nervous, but he wanted to give her the idea that he was. Kate then smiled back and made it clear that her interest was genuine and if she was insisting, it was because she aimed at doing her job well.

  «Sir, did you notice», the secretary continued, «that all the floors have been silent for quite a time? Still lots of people on vacation?»

  Curiosities and doubts, which had been crowding her mind for days, began to put pressure on her and she experienced the impulse to have to drive them away, determined not to return empty-handed to her room. She had made the effort to get back on track and pick up the threads of the investigation, now her hunger for novelty had to be satisfied once and for all. Dietrich, however, still disappointed her. He spread his arms and smiled again to specify that
he had no idea and that, after all, he didn't care much about it.

  Kate loosened the reins for a moment. She had found a soft yet firm rubber wall which made all her veiled insinuations bounce off. She lingered, fiddling with the cup of tea to convey the message that, despite he was her grumpy boss, despite she had to work, despite break time was yet to come, she had no intention of giving up and she would go on until hierarchy prevailed and Malcolm Dietrich dismissed her. And the CEO of Leigh Madison Enterprise, needless to say, stayed calm and relaxed.

  There were moments of silence, then Dietrich began to run the show.

  «You look good, Ramos.»

  The peach ice tea went down the wrong pipe and she coughed. She wiped her mouth with a handkerchief, then smiled and thanked him.

  «You're doing a great job», he added.