by T. K. Toppin
A look of mild surprise brushed across Adam’s face, and he halted his fork midway to his mouth. A guilty twist touched his face, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “John?”
“Made a wrong turn, sorry.” He averted his eyes, feeling foolish and a little disturbed by his brother’s appearance.
I don’t care about him anymore, John reminded himself. But the image of his brother eating alone tugged a spot in his heart that he’d thought closed—severed. He could’ve sworn Adam had been talking to himself…or to an imaginary dinner guest. John mentally shook the image away, but it was already burned in forever.
“Oh, dear. You’ve gone and lost her, haven’t you?” Real concern showed on Adam’s face. “You really must learn to speak to her with more kindness.”
Adam read him like a book. “What would you know of kindness?” John snapped. “Good evening to you.” He turned and left, leaving Adam, with his fork still mid-way to his mouth, frowning with worry. But Adam’s eyes angled to the empty seat across from him.
Where was she? John tried her personal unit again. No answer. She wouldn’t stray far. In fact, she never strayed far, and more often than not would inform him of her whereabouts. No matter how angry she was, or how upset, eventually she’d inform him or return. And to be honest, she had been more upset with Loeb than with him. This didn’t feel right.
He zigzagged through the back alleys and hidden passages he preferred to use. Without realizing it until he noted the direction sign on the elevator he found himself in, he was headed down to the sub-levels. When he reached the primary sub-level, the communications hub, he tagged Moorjani again. Still nothing.
Letting himself in to Simon’s office, he locked the door. The cool darkness that Simon preferred to maintain was a comfort. The room was large, with a massive screen on one wall. Before it stood a sizeable sleek table console designed strictly for business. A pilot-style cockpit chair sat behind it. John climbed in and engaged the armrest controls, opening the rogue network link-up.
“Simon.”
“Something’s wrong.” Simon quick eyes studied John’s face. “What is it?”
“She’s missing.”
“Josie.” Simon’s mouth drew into a tight line. “How long?”
On the massive screen, John saw Simon sitting up from a small narrow cot. “Close to two hours now.”
“Moorjani?”
“Nothing.” John’s voice quivered a little; hardly noticeable, but Simon would catch it. Nothing passed his friend’s attention.
“John, steady on.”
“My next check will be the exits. This feels bad, Simon.”
“I know. I feel it too. I don’t like it that there are two outsiders in there. And now, Josie…” Simon shook his head. “Lock them down good.”
“Already done,” John waved an impatient hand. Then, as if to keep his mind on other things, told his friend about his encounter with Margeaux, of Adam’s thoughts about the droids, and how he and Josie had made peace. “Damn it, Simon. If she’s been taken…” he couldn’t finish, so slammed a fist on the table instead. “How can she be taken? This place is watched more closely than anywhere else in the world! Every single guard and security droid knows who she is. She can’t have just walked out of here without raising an alarm.”
“I know. Listen, those three unscheduleds; only one docked here—about ten minutes ago. It arrived ahead of time. There’s nothing unusual about it: a private wedding party on their way to the pleasure station. The other two seem to be heading directly there without detouring. We’re on full alert, and no sign or movement from Ho. I don’t understand. This doesn’t feel right.” Simon scrubbed a hand over his brow then told John about Jane. When John reacted with distaste, he nodded in agreement. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Sir,” Moorjani’s voice interrupted from the door intercom.
John disengaged the locks immediately. For Moorjani to come in person meant it was serious. Something greasy slithered about his stomach, and he instinctively tightened his abdominals.
Deidre Moorjani, a short, petite woman with a thick mop of black hair that tended to flop into her face, marched into the room, imposing and commanding despite her size.
“Something weird is going on.” Deidre pushed out a hip, propped a fist on it, and stood beside John. She saw Simon on the large screen and nodded. “I’ve tracked your wife since she left your offices and entered Elevator 2, which would’ve taken her straight up to your residence. Somehow, the elevator was re-routed. It took her down to the courtyard in South Sector A. The last image is of her sitting on the chair inside the elevator, getting up, and leaving. After that, there is no trace. I’ve checked every camera angle we have there, and nothing. It’s conveniently in a blind spot.”
John’s mouth clamped down tight, his teeth almost cracking as he ground them hard.
“The exits?” Simon spoke up. He’d rested his personal unit on a table, since he could now be seen pacing the small confines of his room.
“Normal. No sign of her there, or any unusual activities. I’m running retinal scans to make sure the ins match with the outs at the checkpoints. I need to crosscheck them with visas issued as well. That will take a little time.”
“This does not leave this office, understood?” John managed to speak at last. His throat burned with bile. “How much longer before you complete the scan?”
“Not for another hour or so, maybe longer.” Moorjani took note of John’s distress and lowered her tone. “Sorry, sir. We’ve had close to thirty thousand visitors today—ever since news of Josie’s past came out. People just got curious. And Security have been getting stressed over it.”
“Thank you, Moorjani.”
John waited until she had left, then slumped into the chair. “My God, Simon,” he groaned in pain. “They’ve taken her. Right from under my nose. It’s him, I know it is. I will kill Ho for this!”
“Steady, John, steady.” The pain on Simon’s face matched the anguish on John’s. “We’ll get her back. They’re bold enough to take her from where she’s most protected. They’re smart and savvy, but they’ll make a slip, and we’ll get them then. I don’t think they’ll harm her—not yet. If she keeps her head, she’ll find a way to foil them or contact us. Trust her, John. And remember, we’ve taught her well in such a short time. She’ll not forget what to do and she’ll hold her own. I have every confidence in her. She did well during the exchange.”
“But for how long? You know what she’s like. She’ll do something…stupid.”
Simon took a breath. “John,” his voice calm, “give her some credit, all right? She’ll keep her head.”
John gave a weak nod. His body was frozen in agonizing pain. His lungs were tight while his heart raced wildly, his mind clotted. Josie was all he could think of. The panic ate great big chunks out of him. Let her be unharmed, please…please.
“John, get a grip!” Simon barked. “Where is that anger you’re so fond of? Use it! John, do you hear me? Don’t be a fuck-head!”
“I hear you,” he growled back low. “I just…need a moment.”
It was there—the anger, the boiling rage—slowly clawing its way up, ripping and tearing at the panic. And so was an icy cold calmness. He was going to get back what was his, and be damned with anyone who stood in his way.
Chapter 17
When it first hit me, I barely felt it. Now, since whatever it was had worn off, the side of my neck throbbed like a toothache gone wrong. And my temper, which was all but boiling before, hadn’t improved in the least.
My memory was a bit hazy. I remembered someone, a man, holding my hand and leading me along. He had long hair, flowing well past his shoulders, and he touched my face, then sprayed something cool in my eyes. It wasn’t painful, only annoying. I must’ve made a noise and tried to push him away, since he told me to hush. After that, I don’t recall much other than walking, movement, and darkness. What I do remember was I’d been very agreeabl
e, happy to follow him without a care in the world. As if I were a sheep being led to pasture and doing so was the most pleasurable thing on earth to do.
The fuzz was starting to wear off, and the realization that something was terribly wrong was dawning on me. I lay on something narrow and soft. Something blocked my left arm from moving. I heard a male voice talking nearby. With a sudden jolt, I sprang upright and looked about wildly.
I was in a room, a living room, small, neat and…hotelish. I had been lying on a couch, which explained why I hadn’t been able to move my left arm much. A floral scent mingled with disinfectant, reminiscent of clean laundry, filled my nostrils.
“Good morning,” the voice from behind me called out.
I leapt off the couch, spun, grabbed at my wrist—my krima was gone!—and found myself meeting the gaze of none other than James. He stood propped against a wall, that opened into another room, watching me with a curious expression on his face.
Instinctively, I put a hand to my neck and rubbed it. “You fucking drugged me.”
His dark brows winged up in mild surprise, then he tucked his hands into his pockets. “They did tell me your language skills were a bit lacking.”
“Where am I?” I risked casting my eyes around quickly to make sure no one else was in the room. I reasoned he must’ve been talking to someone over a personal unit. My eyes felt a little sticky and itchy. I blinked a few times to clear them.
“You are safe. And properly hidden.” He shrugged a shoulder and shifted to another leg. “The eye-dye will irritate you for a little while. Use this to clear it.” He pulled out a small bottle, presenting it to me before tossing it my way.
I let it fall onto the couch without bothering to catch it—just in case it exploded on contact. Deeming it to be non-threatening, I picked it up and inspected it. Still warm from being in his pocket, it looked like your run-of-the-mill eye-drop solution. I glanced up at James’ amused face. He reminded me of those dashing leading men in adventure movies, his bronzed skin only adding to the effect. And the smug look he had right now had me wondering what he’d been up to while I lay unconscious on the couch. A brief internal consultation with myself assured me that I was still virtuous. But my skin still crawled at the thought that he had had ample time and free reign to touch me wherever he pleased.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a mild saline solution. I won’t let you burn your eyes out. They are too beautiful to ruin.”
“Why’ve you taken me? What does Ho want with me? You do work for him, don’t you?”
He inclined his head in a small nod. “For now, I do. Contractually speaking. And as for the why, I’d rather not say.” A tiny frown constricted his brows and his amber eyes clouded with mild displeasure.
“You’re what they call a Rogue, aren’t you?”
James smiled showing brilliant white teeth. “I see I’ve made an impression on you—enough for you to seek out my profession. I am touched.”
“I didn’t seek. I took an obvious guess,” I replied testily. It didn’t take a genius to know this man was quite enamored with himself. Ugh.
It was John who’d told me, and that made me think what his reaction would be when he found out I was missing. I squashed down that thought and tried to focus on James. “So, if I were to offer you money, would you work for me instead? Then you’d be paid to get me the hell out of here.”
“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid.” James pulled his face into a fake moue and pushed off from the wall. “Just to be clear, I have no quarrel with you and wish you nothing but the best. But…a contract is a contract, until it is completed. Perhaps afterward?”
“Pity. Now I have to miss my favorite game show and be inconvenienced by all this.” I shifted a fraction in case of attack. He saw my movement and held up a hand.
James walked toward a drinks cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of wine, turning it to me in offering. I didn’t respond, but he poured out two glasses anyway. “How is your niece?”
Was that a bit of affection in his voice, I wondered, or did he have a soft spot for the girl? “She’s fine.” And on impulse, “She spoke kindly of you. Hurting children not your cup of tea?”
“Even Rogues have certain standards to maintain. Assassins, not so much.” He extended a hand to me with the glass of wine. “Furthermore, the welfare of children does not interest me. But if a person is mistreated for no apparent reason other than to prove a point, like the girl had been, well, that is distasteful.”
Cautiously, I took the glass, watching his every move, cringing a little as the tips of his fingers brushed mine. I didn’t drink, though I desperately wanted to. My heart was thudding despite my composed face and steady hands. But my knees needed a little bolstering from a good swig of wine before they betrayed me.
I stared up at James’ face. He studied me with intensity as his eyes crawled all over my face and body. We were feet apart and, with effort, I tried to look offended.
“Yet you were ready to kill Mrs. Patel if we didn’t do as you said,” I reminded him. “Is that not a mistreatment, of sorts?”
James chuckled. “Have you never heard of a bluff? Patel was never part of it unless she interfered. Once she understood this, she was most cooperative. Contracts with Rogues are very precise and detailed. We don’t randomly eliminate people and chalk it up at the end of the bill as incidental costs. If we foresee potential obstacles, we incur that into our cost beforehand. No questions asked, or the deal is canceled.”
“How very considerate and most insightful. And what about women? Do you have any qualms about hurting them?” I asked, even though I knew in this century, men and women were treated the same.
“Depends on the woman,” he sipped his wine and murmured an approval, “and if I’ve been contracted to hurt them. It’s the same with men. We don’t discriminate.”
“And what is your contract regarding me?” I backed away, standing at an angle, my left side to him. I wanted my krima back, but the wine glass would have to suffice for now—should it come to that.
He let out a weary sigh. “To deliver you whole. Do not try to resist or escape, you cannot win. I am much stronger and faster. And,” he glanced at the wine glass, “it is wasteful not to drink that excellent wine.”
“Whole?” I snapped out in surprise.
“Whole.” He cracked a charming smile, as if we were chatting about the weather. “You see, Madam Lancaster. I wish you no harm. I am not a brutal man—in the sense that you may be thinking. In fact, it would cause me great distress if something terrible were to happen to you. I do so admire you. But I have a job to perform. Let us make this easy for both of us. Do not resist.” He gave me a “cheers” with the glass and took another sip, his yellow eyes still watching me.
It did cross my mind that he might attempt to pounce on me and rape me senseless, and it rattled me a little. Professional Rogue or not, he gave me the creeps. There was something in his eyes that glittered a little too much with malice. In fact, it was more like…perversion.
Getting out of here with my life intact, any way possible, was the most pressing issue. But any exit meant I’d have to tackle this large obstacle before me. And I’d seen how he moved and fought—and disappeared. The thought had me rooted to the spot.
With nothing else to do for the moment but be submissive, I took a sip. It was a mild, fruity sauvignon blanc, smooth and soothing, and like he said, wasteful not to drink. I wanted to gulp it down but resisted.
“So. How much longer before I am delivered whole?”
“A few more hours. Mr. Ho will come for you himself.”
“Ooo, I’m so happy. And then what?”
“Couldn’t say. He’s very secretive and it’s none of my business. That was a nice trick you pulled with the code, by the way.” Smirking with a shrug, James strolled about the room.
“Haven’t a clue what you mean.” Fuck!
A broad smile lit up his handsome superstar face. “Josie. May I call you that? You fo
rget who I am. I didn’t actually see the switch, but it occurred to me that Simon would try. I certainly would have. So I scanned the code again to be certain.”
“You haven’t told Ho, have you?” I squinted at him and watched his behavior. Odd.
“He wanted a code, I gave him a code. He did not specify what code. I was to verify its validity and deliver it. I did both. Breakfast? I know it is early, but I ordered some just before you woke. It’s been a long night, won’t you say? And I’m starved.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Sarcasm laced my words as I studied him with interest. “Why didn’t you tell Ho about the switch? Isn’t that a little unprofessional?”
He shrugged. “Because it appeared to me the code was not the most important thing he desired.” He tapped his head and gave me a wink. “He wanted you more.”
“What? Why?” Despite my wariness, I moved closer to him. All I could think of was Ho’s creepy, oily interest. I almost shuddered. Perversions seemed to run rampant on his side.
“Couldn’t say.” James wore a worried look that seemed almost genuine. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you even ask when you have a contract to do?”
“No.” He sipped more wine and shrugged, again. It seemed like a habit of his. “Unless I need to know, that is. And in this case, I didn’t need to know anything past my deliverance of you to him.”
“You could be a dear and ask,” I smiled with forced politeness.
“I only ask questions when it is necessary. Haven’t you been paying attention to anything I’ve been saying?” He looked mildly hurt.
“I could pay more than what Ho is offering you.”
“That would not be ethical.”
I barked out a laugh. “Kidnapping and fuck-knows-what else and you’re worried about ethics.”
“As I said before, even Rogues have certain standards we follow.” He snorted with a frown. “Would you mind not cursing so much? It’s very rude.”