Doppelgaenger answered him with a murderous glare.
“Anyway,” Jack said, ignoring her, “that’s my complaint. She just took advantage of everything I had already done. She wouldn’t have gotten him except for that. And she lost Victrix, she said so herself. I held up my end of the bargain. I’m just requesting, humbly, that you would honor yours.”
“Hrrrrm,” Barron replied. “One can see the justice in your plaint, and yet, dear Jack, when have the Masters ever concerned ourselves with being just?” The crest feathers rose and fell again. “However, we do pride ourselves on keeping our bargains. So…while I cannot provide you with the full amount of the prize we had allotted you, I can certainly assign you the ship you are using, and the technology in its hold, permanently. Will that suit?”
Jack bowed his head, as if considering her words. He motioned to the bespectacled man beside him, who surrendered the tablet. Jack took it and ran his fingers rapidly over the screen, and finally grunted.
“Acceptable, with one proviso,” he growled, and passed the tablet back to his aide. “You carry the difference through to the next job. Think of it as good faith in this mutual venture, that such a profitable relationship will continue. Business, you understand.”
“But of course,” Barron replied. “Business is business.”
“Done then,” Jack said with a bow. “You’ve got my number, Lady Barron. Don’t hesitate to use it.” He turned to leave, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Jack,” Doppelgaenger said, and released her grip on him. “You would be the Djinni’s acquaintance, then?”
“Red and I go back, yeah,” Jack nodded. “What’s it to you?”
“Allow me to convey your well-wishes then, when next I see him.” Doppelgaenger’s mouth curled into a vicious smile.
Jack looked Doppelgaenger up and down, and shrugged.
“You’re not really Red’s type, lady, but I wish you luck.” Jack motioned to his aide, and the two strolled away. Jack paused for a moment, and glanced back at Doppelgaenger. “A bit of advice. Whatever you’re planning with the Djinni, I’d think it through a bit more. He’s usually more trouble than he’s worth. Might be a bit more than you can swallow.”
Doppelgaenger watched them leave, and felt a bubbling hatred for the little man. Was that a smirk dancing on his lips as he turned away? She had executed her plan perfectly. The Djinni was now without allies but one, and the one he had left was effectively trapped in the quagmire she had left in her wake as the duplicitous “Mel” at ECHO HQ. She would have time, more than enough time, to see it done.
But the little man’s parting words left a sour taste in her mouth. Had she missed something? Was the Djinni truly alone now? She grimaced, and pushed the thought away. There was no need to worry. She had everything she needed. Composing herself, she turned back to Barron, and bowed.
“There is still much to do, my dear Barron,” she said. “I would beg your leave. Please convey my respect to the Supreme Oberfuhrer.”
“Of course, Doppelgaenger,” Barron nodded. “Enjoy your task. I’m sure we will enjoy the show.”
* * *
As they boarded the shuttlecraft, Jack moved quickly to the pilot’s chair and set the commands for immediate takeoff. They had made their entrance, put on their performance, and gotten out. It was never a good idea to overplay your hand, and he was understandably careful whenever he had to deal with Masters. He was still learning their signs, their tells, and it made any negotiations with them rather…twitchy. He had not expected to see Doppelgaenger there, that had surprised him, as had her interest in Red. When the others were squared away, he would have to make a note to warn the Djinni. At the moment, it was Victrix Jack was concerned about. From what little he had overheard, it sounded like Victrix was safe, for now, and when Jack had enough to send her, she would receive a doozy of a report on the true threat to humanity.
Jack gripped the controls, ready to take the shuttle up and away, when he turned to his aide.
“Did you get enough?” he asked.
His aide moved forward, smiling. He took off his glasses with one hand, and made a beckoning motion with the other. From the rear of the cabin, a figure stirred and moved towards him with a deadened gait, wrapping her arms around him. With a flourish, he accepted Scope’s embrace, and nodded to Jack.
“Let go, Paris,” the aide said in a bland, dull-sounding tenor. Looking dejected, Scope obeyed. The aide took a deep breath, and a ripple traveled over his body. Then another. Jack averted his eyes; he’d learned that watching the transformation gave him something like a migraine.
When he looked back, the aide was gone, and Barron stood in his place. “Oh,” the alien said in Harmony’s voice, rich with amusement. “I would say so, yes.”
* * *
Red Djinni awoke to a shrieking, burrowing pain in his ear. He stiffened up, felt his body restrained, and began to scream.
“Hush, love. It’s too early for that. That will come later, and then…you can scream all of your pain to me.”
Red stifled the screams, clenched his teeth, and willed the pain away. Soon, he was panting from the strain, but at least the roaring agony in his ear had subsided to a numb, throbbing itch. He couldn’t see, and was dimly aware that his eyes had been bound by leather. And not just his eyes. He was rather unsurprised to discover that he was more or less naked, held down by tight leather restraints around his arms, his legs, wrists and ankles, and a heavy metallic restraint across his torso. He could feel the smooth, polished surface of each. The metal was cold, ungiving. The leather restraints tightened with his movements. They were strong, perhaps too strong to even cut through.
“You went through a lot of trouble, darlin’,” Red groaned, “just to tie me up. You know how I feel about a little S&M.”
“Oh, I know,” Doppelgaenger said, and chuckled. She brought a hand down and caressed his scalp. “But I think this is a bit beyond what you had in mind.”
“You sure? I know we discussed it a couple of times, but we didn’t really get to the wild stuff…”
“I’m sure,” she said, and pressed a finger to his lips. “I know you have trouble filtering your thoughts before they erupt from that sarcastic mouth, but why don’t you listen for a change? You need to understand. I’m doing this because I love you. Because you’re everything to me…”
That’s right, Red thought. Keep talking, while I figure out how I’m going to get out of this mess…
As she spoke in low, sultry tones, Red concentrated on his surroundings. He didn’t need to see, not while he had his skin-sense radar…thing. He was on a hard stone slab, about three feet off the ground. The air was cool, moving…piped in from overhead, massive, exposed ductwork by the ceiling, at least forty feet up. It seemed to be a large room. He felt the glare of intense light heating the air around him, and stopping abruptly a few feet in any direction. Overhead spotlight then, centered on him. Hazy shapes manifested around him, odd instruments, some electrical and humming, others…seemed very hard, very cold, and very…sharp. And moving around him, lazily, just one person. Doppelgaenger. Her outline was familiar. She had taken the form of a slim female again…
“…feel yourself rising to your true potential. And that’s where I need you. Where you will be worthy.”
Red turned his attention back to her. Does it matter what she’s saying? I need to keep looking for an out here. It really wasn’t the time to be cheeky, but he was the Djinni. Sometimes he just couldn’t help himself.
“You know what the first lesson in giving motivational speeches is? Don’t tie your audience down and cut into their head!”
He heard Doppelgaenger sigh.
“Red,” she began, cupping his face rather melodramatically with her hands, “what is about to happen is very real, and very necessary. You may question how I feel about you, but through it all, it is important to me that you remember what we shared. What we still share, I would hope. I am about to raise you to godhood.
You need to remember that, because it will seem that all I am doing is ending you, in the most excruciating way imaginable. To be fair, I suppose I am. But you will be so much more, and you will be with me. Forever. It wasn’t too long ago that I thought you wanted that. Do you still? I think you do. I’m still her, I’m still the one you fell in love with. You know better than most that everyone puts on masks. But you and I…we saw past them. We touched the truth beneath, and we didn’t flinch. We embraced what we saw, what we felt, darkness and all. I’m going to take us a bit further. What we will become…will be the envy of anyone who ever believed in soulmates. Do you trust that?”
Red seemed to contemplate that for a moment, when he snarled and spit into her face.
“Do you believe that I want nothing you’re offering?” he growled.
“Very well,” she sighed. “If it’s any consolation, your defiance will make this quicker. Not easier on you, perhaps, but quicker. Soon you will beg for it to stop, for my forgiveness and my love. But know that you will always have my love. My forgiveness, you will probably have to earn. I do owe you a few truths though. The first is that I have only so much time. We are on a bit of a schedule, it seems. You may still have would-be rescuers, and I still have obligations to fulfill to my superiors. The first hurdle is detection. Our escape was not as clean as I had hoped. It has necessitated a bit of premature excavation. Your ear, for example.”
“Right,” Red said. “My ear. You seem to be fascinating yourself by jabbing something sharp into it.”
“Not for my enjoyment,” she objected. “Well, not solely for my enjoyment. Part of the problem, my dear Red, is that you were never truly alone. It took some doing to isolate you, but I think you are finally within my grasp. I just need to remove a couple of things first.”
Red began to speak, and stopped.
“You are beginning to comprehend, my love,” she purred, and with a flourish she ripped off his blindfold. Red squinted in the sudden, harsh light. When his eyes adjusted, he found himself staring at her hand, just inches from his face. And held gently between her bloody fingers…
“My Overwatch ear implant…” Red croaked. Gingerly, he ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth and felt a wound where his Overwatch mic had been.
“You see what I have to do, how it must begin,” she continued. “Though I suspect few would pursue you now, I know of one who would. She would stop at nothing, I think. So for now, I’m going to have to impede her efforts.”
“But that means you have to…”
“Yes,” Doppelgaenger nodded. “I have to remove it all, Red.”
And with a deft flourish, Doppelgaenger drove her claws down and tore out his eye.
* * *
Budapest, 1932.
The stone slab was a nice touch, she thought. It wasn’t the first time she had been a captive, tied down for interrogation. Still, it was usually on a steel gurney or chair, fastened with steel restraints, and not this archaic setup of stone and leather. The metallic brace around her torso was their sole concession to the modern conventions. Looking about, she saw runes etched into the stone veneer of the archways over the door. Karoline rather liked it. It spoke of a simpler time, when torture was something of an art. Of course, those days were long gone. Everyone was in such a hurry now. The known world had survived the Great War and had since fallen into a global epidemic of poverty. You would think people would be ready to ease the pace a little, perhaps rediscover what little worth there was left in life. She supposed she owed her livelihood to the poor economic state of the world. Given the cost of a simple loaf of bread on the streets of Berlin, there wasn’t much in the way of budget for a spy such as herself. She had to make her way with what she had available to her. A pretty face. A way with words. A means to make a man receptive to her pleas. It helped that she had a way of altering her appearance.
Of course, it wasn’t always enough. She tested her restraints again, as a reminder to herself that a woman’s gifts didn’t always ensure a fruitful end to her endeavours. She had outsmarted herself. It happened now and again. No matter how fair the fairer sex was, it had to stay ahead of the game. Men didn’t like to be outsmarted. Especially by their prey.
She reminded herself who she was, predator or prey, humming the tune she had come to adopt as her own personal theme song. Oh, certainly, Marlene Dietrich had made it famous in Der Blaue Engel, but it should have been written for her. “Ich bin von Kopf bis Fuß auf Liebe eingestellt…”
Then she heard the faint sounds of someone entering the room.
“A pretty song,” came a harsh voice.
“You speak English?” Karoline said, surprised.
“Yes,” the voice answered, “and I suppose it would serve us well to use it. My German is atrocious, and you simply must work on your Hungarian, my dear. Your accent may fool commoners, but not men of substance, such as myself. It grates on me, and I do not wish to hear such atrocities from those lovely lips. You would do well to stay in my favor.”
“I’m at your mercy,” she sighed, and flailed against her restraints for show.
“You play the part well.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean you know your part in this.” He hid behind the light. A deep voice, but not naturally so. If she was to guess, this was a man who had suffered for most of his life. A weak man, one who had come into power late in his story. One who carried a deep hatred for the world. One who craved power, who desired nothing more than dominance over his fellow man. One with an unsatiated grudge against those, against everyone, who he deemed was beneath him.
“My part?” She feigned confusion. “I don’t know what you speak of, sir. I am but a simple servant, one who…”
“Spare me,” he scoffed. “You think us stupid? You think us blind? We are the Kiválasztottak, and we will lead humanity into the New World Order. I know who you are, and who sent you. You may as well submit, little girl. Stop playing the spy. You know your strengths. I know my needs. I’m fairly certain which one is stronger than the other. Though I encourage…resistance. Please. Resist me, Fraulein Doppelgaenger.”
He stepped out into the light surrounding her; to her surprise, she recognized him from one of the several photographs of men she had been told to target. Bela Nagy…but he was very low on the list, not so much an insurgent as someone known to be supplying active insurgents with some ill-defined “support.” She had been told to take him as a target of opportunity in the hopes he would betray the names of those actively working against the National Socialist cause.
So—why was he here, now, and identifying himself as one of the “Chosen Ones,” whoever those were, since that name wasn’t on any list of known groups of agitators.
He smiled slightly, a smile that did not reach his eyes. “I see you recognize me, although you do not recognize what I am. That, little girl, is about to change.”
He reached down, and placed a hand gently on her stomach.
“You don’t cower from my touch,” he noted. “I would say you almost welcome it.”
“Yes,” she said, and muffled the cringe she felt, feigning gratitude. “You are…like no other man I have ever met.”
“You waste your breath,” Bela muttered, “and my time. Still you try. Still you seek to seduce one who is already gone in desire. But I am no common mark. Of course, I am like no man you have ever met.” He grunted, and wove his fingers through the air. Karoline watched, fascinated, as lights flared into existence, trailing his fingers in a beautiful dance of luminescence. He didn’t seem so repugnant anymore. It was hypnotic, and she felt her blood begin to boil in excitement.
“Do you desire me now?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she said.
“Do you want me above all others?”
“Yes.”
“Lies,” he chuckled. “But they feel like truth, yes? Not to worry. Soon, they will be truth, and you will speak only the truth, and only for me, yes?”
“For you,”
she said. “Only truth, Master.”
“And so we begin,” Bela said, caressing her cheek with his hand. “With lies. But you will learn, my dear, what lies will bring.”
“Teach me,” she breathed.
“Of course,” Bela said, and drew himself closer. “It begins, like all things, with want and desire. Tell me, dear, what you desire.”
“The truth,” she said, gasping. “To see the truth.”
“I will show you,” Bela promised. “I will show you truth.”
She gasped, as he pressed his thumb against her throat.
“Your first lesson,” he said, driving his thumb down, “is that you are not the predator.” She screamed, coughed, and fell into a silent thrash as Bela calmly maintained pressure against her windpipe.
“You are powerless, Fraulein Doppelgaenger. And you are mine.”
* * *
There was nothing left in him, in the wake of suppressing the pain, for Red to do, or think, or feel. It was all-consuming. The pain was there, right on the verge of some ungodly threshold, and it required all of him to keep it away at a distance, lest it rob him of what remained of his sanity.
Only in the quiet moments when Doppelgaenger paused, allowing his healing to catch up and recover, could he spare a thought for anything else. Mostly, his thoughts fled to Victrix. She was safe, at least for now. It had been worth it, the grueling hours of being cut into, pierced, flayed, waterboarded and electrocuted, just to see Victoria escape. He was tiring, though, and he suspected that his resolve in this was slipping. It was worth it, of course it was…wasn’t it? Of course it was. Was it? Of course it was!
And in those quiet moments, Doppelgaenger chose to hover over him, with a beatific smile, and the torture would shift to her vile words.
Avalanche: Book Five in the Secret World Chronicle Page 41