by Doug Welch
Shadow Twins
By Doug Welch
Amazon Kindle Edition
* * * *
Copyright © 2012 Douglas R. Welch
Amazon Kindle Edition, License Notes
Thank you for purchasing this eBook. This eBook is the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy at Amazon.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. The author welcomes reviews of his work. Thank you in advance for your support.
Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. Character's names and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. References to actual geographical sites, towns, cities or businesses in this novel are for fictional purposes only and any mention of these places does not constitute a denigration or endorsement of any actual geographical, political or business entity.
Caution: ADULT CONTENT. Contains language and violent scenes not suitable for children.
Table of Contents
Part One-Dorri’s Rescue
Chapter 1 The Iranian Connection
Chapter 2 An Enigma
Chapter 3 Dorri
Chapter 4 Audrey’s Story
Chapter 5 An Unexpected Visitor
Chapter 6 Healing
Part Two- Over Six Months Later
Chapter 7 Audrey’s Home
Chapter 8 Stranger in My Bed
Chapter 9 The Shadow Twin
Chapter 10 Cecil-Kentucky
Chapter 11 Kitty-Michigan
Chapter 12 Dani-Italy
Chapter 13 Caesar-Kentucky
Chapter 14 Paris-Italy
Chapter 15 Take-Down
Chapter 16 A Family Affair
Chapter 17 Family Meeting
Chapter 18 Canada
Chapter 19 Shadow Dance
Chapter 20 The Fruit of our Labors
Chapter 21 A Brief Shadow History
Chapter 22 Who’s Your Mother?
Chapter 23 Night Dangers
Chapter 24 Planning
Chapter 25 Failed Adept
Chapter 26 Enlisting Kitty
Part Three- The Assault
Chapter 27 Corsica
Chapter 28 Italy
Chapter 29 A Bargain
Chapter 30 Arrival
Chapter 31 Assault Planning
Chapter 32 Phase One
Chapter 33 Phase Two
Chapter 34 The Borgias
Chapter 35 Rodger
Chapter 36 Doctor Cramer
Chapter 37 More than Twins
Part 1-Dorri’s Rescue
Chapter 1
The Iranian Connection
The unrelenting noise, a mixture of the chatter and shouts of voices speaking Farsi, and the horns and din of the traffic that inched its way along the street, were a constant reminder that he was a foreigner in a land hostile to Americans.
The November cold penetrated the black leather jacket he wore so Paris Fox stepped into the sunshine. Blowing on his hands to warm them, he watched as pedestrians flowed along the busy street shopping at the bazaar’s open air stalls. They were mostly Iranian women, dressed in opaque black chadors and an occasional pair of women in jeans and zipped up jackets or buttoned coats.
Using his mind-glow to pattern his image out of the vision field of the Shadows who frequented the area, he made himself invisible to them. As for or the overwhelming majority of normal people who could see him, he tried to pose as an out of work loiterer, hanging around the area in hopes of finding a job.
He moved back into the dark threshold of the doorway, observing people enter and leave the Iranian Shadow House on the other side of the street.
He’d come to Iran to accomplish two missions, the first to gather intelligence about the Iranian Houses for the Shadow Council, and the second to rescue his new mother-in-law, Dorri.
Since his Family’s ordeal in Las Vegas, the destruction of the Shadow spy ring, and the subsequent interrogation of the captured spies, the Council had become even more paranoid about the Middle East. Why? He didn’t know, but the opportunity to accomplish a Council mission and, as a bonus, smuggle Dorri out of Iran, was an opportunity too good to pass up. So far his spying efforts had proved fruitless. He hadn’t seen anyone he could classify as unusual or foreign emerge from or enter the building.
Paris’ attention shifted to a tall man moving through the crowds on his side of the street. As the man approached him, he sighed with relief, Caesar.
Caesar drew abreast and Paris stepped out of the doorway to join him, strolling alongside with his freezing hands shoved in his jacket pockets.
His companion towered over him by almost a full head. Caesar’s curly black hair crowned a distinctive Persian face, and his brown eyes scanned the crowds looking for threats from any source.
Joining him in his surveillance, Paris observed the activity on the street, looking for eavesdroppers. Finding none nearby, he leaned over and spoke in a whisper. “Any word on where Dorri’s located?”
Caesar shook his head, speaking just as softly. “No, she wasn’t living in her old apartment, but I may have a lead. One of the Baha’i dissidents thinks he knows. He’s promised to check and get back to me.”
Frustrated, Paris grimaced. They’d been in Iran two weeks and still hadn’t found her. Prowling around Tehran asking questions wasn’t an option. Although Caesar could pass as Iranian, Paris wore dark sunglasses to hide his amber eyes, and his complexion shouted his non-Iranian roots. More than once, he’d had to rely upon his Shadow Adept abilities to avoid detection. The longer they stayed in Iran, the more dangerous it became.
“We may have to take another approach,” Paris said. “We know which Iranian House holds her. We may have to capture one of its members and interrogate him.”
Caesar’s steps faltered. Swinging his head sharply, he leveled his eyes at Paris. “That’s likely to be dangerous. Where would we keep him?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Paris shrugged and resumed walking.
Once out of sight of the Shadow headquarters building and the crowds in the bazaar, Caesar flagged a taxi. Entering the car’s warmth, they traveled back to their hotel, an edifice which catered to Western businessmen, all foreign nationals, visiting Iran and trying to sell or buy.
Disembarking, they entered through the front glass doors and walked to the marble lobby. The crowds flowed back and forth, solely intent on food or business, paying no attention to them. None of them were women; rather men of various nationalities, most wearing conservative dark suits and ties.
Passing the hotel restaurant, Paris noticed a figure dressed in a black chador rise from one of the seats in a secluded lobby alcove. The sight was unusual because with rare exceptions, women didn’t loiter in this hotel. He wondered why no one sat near her. An Iranian woman alone without a guardian or spouse would only arouse suspicion. In truth, he couldn’t tell if the person was male or female because the chador covering him or her swept the floor and whoever it was wore a veil. Sensing the mind-glow of the stranger, he understood.
The person under the chador was a Shadow, invisible to every normal human around him.
He nudged Caesar and whispered. “We’ve got company following us and you won’t be able to see him.”
Caesar’s eyes grew wide. He whispered back, “Shadow?”
Paris nodded. Arriving at the elevators they waited. Reaching the ground floor, one of the doors opened and disgorged its passengers. Fully expecting the Shadow to enter with them, he wasn’t disappointed when the figure slipped in
just before the doors slid shut.
The Shadow plastered itself against the wall of the car as far away from them as it could. Paris waited until the elevator started climbing. Probing deeper, he revealed the mind-glow of their unwelcomed passenger.
Surprised at what he found, he thought, Ordinary Shadow, not an Adept and it’s a female. Who was she and why did she follow them?
He’d feared the longer they stayed in Iran, the more likely they’d run afoul of one or the other factions that kept Iran in a turmoil, particularly the Shadow Houses. But why would one of the traditional Muslim Iranian Houses send a woman to tail them?
Anyway, if the Houses were aware of him and Caesar, and this Shadow expected to remain hidden, it might mean that the Houses didn’t suspect that he was an Adept. Fortunately the three of them were the only occupants of the elevator. Caesar couldn’t see her and would therefore be of no use in a physical confrontation, so it was up to him.
Paris straightened from where he’d leaned against the elevator’s wall and accosted the Shadow. “Do you speak English?”
He heard a gasp emanate from the chador and the woman rushed to the elevator controls. Using his mind, he froze her in midstride. Her breath escaped in a moan and her shoulders slumped.
Caesar startled. “Amazing! I can see it now. It just appeared out of nowhere.”
Paris cast about for a plan. The elevator neared their floor. They needed to question the woman, but the surveillance would pose a problem.
“Caesar, hold the elevator’s doors open and keep her here while I go to the room and disable the monitors.”
Caesar raised an eyebrow. “Her?”
Paris nodded. “I saw it in her mind. From the way you reacted when she appeared, she must be a female Shadow like Kitty Trudeau, a switcher.”
Caesar chuckled. “Oh, I get it. She can disappear at will. How many like her will we have to contend with?” He grabbed the Shadow’s arms and held on.
When the elevators doors opened, Caesar held them open with his foot as Paris darted out of the car and hurried down the corridor to his room.
Opening the door, he rushed to the bathroom and removed an electric shaver from his travel kit. Turning it on activated the hidden electronic scrambling device. Now more confident they could interrogate the Shadow in private, Paris opened the door and leaned out of the threshold, beckoning down the passageway to Caesar.
Caesar let the elevator’s doors close and forced the struggling Shadow down the empty corridor and into Paris’ room. Closing the door, he released her.
She rushed to the center of the suite, her eyes darting back and forth, apparently looking for a means to escape. Again, Paris froze her and stepped over, removing the veil and chador.
Discarding the garment on the bed, he revealed an angry auburn-haired woman with amber eyes, dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt, who struggled to regain control of her body. She didn’t look Iranian and could have been an American or European.
Hoping she understood English, he released his mind-block so she could move and speak. “Who are you and why were you following us?”
Her lips drew up in a snarl. “You should know, you bastard! You’re the one who raped me! Where’s my baby? What have you done with her?”
Chapter 2
An Enigma
Stunned by her accusation, Paris couldn’t reply. He’d never before seen this woman, so how could she accuse him of rape?
Caesar’s eyes widened. He broke the silence with a choked voice. “My God, another Alex lookalike.”
Paris studied her. How could a stranger resemble his twin sister? Looking closely, he saw she was younger, maybe in her early twenties, but with the exception of her hair color she did have the same face, Alex’s face, and by extension, his own face.
Shocked by the recognition, he located a chair and sat heavily. “No. —It’s impossible.”
Seeing a facsimile of Alex and Kitty in a country like Iran overwhelmed him. How could it have happened? As an engineer, Paris didn’t believe in chance. He believed in cause and effect. One only had to find the precipitating causes to explain the result, but this was beyond belief.
Her accusation had only added to his confusion. His father had taught him to love, respect and protect women. Maybe the notion was old fashioned, but he couldn’t shake it.
In Iraq, leading his ranger platoon, he’d had to rethink his list slightly, putting respect at the top, because his female soldiers didn’t need or want protecting, but the three motivations were still there. He’d sacrifice his life for a woman to protect her, so how could she accuse him of rape?
Something was at work here, something he didn’t understand but he’d have to defuse the situation before it got out of hand.
The woman darted to the door of the room and Caesar tackled her around the waist.
She fought, trying to scratch his eyes and he overpowered her, trapping her arms. He forced her over to the bed and sat her down.
Recovering his senses, Paris tried to calm her, leaning forward to get her attention. “Look we can play the flight or fight game all afternoon. We’re not trying to harm you, just the opposite. You need to calm down so I can explain.”
Rage colored her features. “What’s to explain, you miserable bastard. You screwed me and got me pregnant. All I want to know is what have you done with my baby?”
Paris shook his head. “You’ve got the wrong man, miss. I didn’t molest you. I don’t even know you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Liar! How can you say that, you rapist scum? I can never forget you and those goons who paralyzed me. I’d kill you if I had the chance.”
Paris pressed his fingers to the junction of his nose and his eyebrows to stem the onset of a looming headache. Trying to remain calm, he replied, “You’ll have to believe me. I never laid eyes on you until this moment. What’s your name?”
She folded her arms across her chest and remained silent, looking away from him.
Caesar cleared his throat. “I think you should listen to him, miss, he’s probably the only one who can help you. What’s your name?”
She turned to Caesar and bit her lower lip. “Audrey. My name’s Audrey Warren,” she replied. “Who’re you?”
“Caesar Rowan. I’m married to a woman named Alex who looks almost identical to you.”
Audrey’s look grew skeptical. “Riiight. So how come you look Iranian?” She pointed to Paris. “And what are you doing associating with this piece of shit?”
Paris’s laugh was short, barking and without humor. “Hah. This piece of shit is named Paris Fox, and you’ve got to believe me. I’ve never seen you before, much less laid a hand on you. I’ve never raped a woman in my life.”
Her face grew red again. “You lying prick. I still remember you with your eyes screwed shut grunting on top of me. I’ll never forget it. I vowed I’d kill you the first chance I had.”
Paris didn’t have the time to convince her. He couldn’t let her go and doubted she’d cooperate with them. The image of trying to force an enraged woman through the streets of Tehran was unthinkable. Keeping her a prisoner in the hotel would be just as hazardous. They’d never be able to do it without being detained by the Iranian authorities.
He tried reasoning with her. “Regardless of what you might think of me, I’m not the man who raped you. But I am the man who can get you to a safe place and out of Iran. That is, if you’ll cooperate.”
“Why should I believe you?” she said. “I haven’t yet met anyone I can trust in this godforsaken country, least of all you.”
Paris tried another tactic. “I’m offering to help you Audrey.” Paris saw from her skeptical look that she didn’t believe him. “Okay, assume I’m the man who attacked you. Wouldn’t it be better to stick with me in hopes of getting your child back than rotting in an Iranian prison?”
His last statement had the desired effect but he sensed her acceptance was barely contained. It could explode in a rage at any time. He knew with
out intervention he’d never gain her trust. She was a time bomb that could betray all of them at any moment.
Swallowing a pang of guilt at having to force her, he reached out his senses to read her mind-glow.
In her mind, fear and panic warred with seething anger and profound sorrow. The conflicting emotions were so entangled he doubted he could ever sort them out.
Looking for a solution that could buy them some time, he first blanketed her fear, reducing it to a glowing ember. At the same time, he connected her mind’s image of him and Caesar to an image of security and authority, likely the image of her father. It wouldn’t eliminate all of the conflicts. He sensed they ran too deep. But it might get all of them through the next few critical hours. He hoped it would be enough.
Testing his efforts, he spread his hands apart. “Well Audrey, I’m not holding you any longer. I won’t resist. If you’re convinced I’m lying, take your best shot.”
He saw doubt cloud her eyes. “I should, you know. You deserve it.” She studied his face. “But I guess if I’m ever going to get my baby back, I’ll need you alive.”
His efforts to calm her seemed to have achieved the intended results, but her anger and fear threatened to undo them. He’d have to be constantly vigilant and intervene or she’d fly into a rage again.
“Where are you from, Audrey?” Paris asked.
“What business is it of yours?” she retorted.
“If we’re going to get you back home it would help to know where you live,” Paris said.
Audrey sighed in apparent resignation. “I live, that is lived, with my father and stepmother in Minnesota.”
Paris looked at his watch and then Caesar. “We haven’t much time, if I block the monitors too long, they’ll become suspicious.” He turned to Audrey. “I need you to move to Caesar’s room. We need to find a place to hide you and later we can talk some more.”
Seeming nervous and apprehensive, Audrey glanced around the room. “What monitors?”