by James Morcan
“He’s conscious now,” the staffer said into his phone. “Don’t worry, he won’t give us any more trouble.”
“Tell them to get here fast,” Naylor said, glaring at Nine. “I want this son-of-a-bitch in secure confinement at HQ.”
“Get here quick,” the staffer said before ending the call. He turned to Naylor. “They’re only ten minutes away.”
Nine guessed the staffer was referring to reinforcements from Omega. The former operative knew once he was interned at Omega’s underground HQ, he’d never be seen again. And neither would Francis. He realized he had to escape within the next minute or two. How to distract them? A desperate plan came to mind.
Naylor remembered the mini-recorder on the desktop. Its red light indicated it was still recording. He picked up the device and hurled it against a wall, smashing it.
Nine chuckled. “You realize I’m also wired,” he lied.
Naylor looked down at him, horrified. He hadn’t considered that someone on the outside could have been listening to the conversation these past few minutes. If that was the case, he knew he was finished. Naylor turned to his staffer. “Search him.”
The staffer handed the Glock to Naylor. “Shoot him if he tries anything, sir.”
Naylor trained the Glock on Nine as his staffer bent down to frisk the intruder. That was the opening Nine had been waiting for. He reached up, grabbed the staffer by his ears and pulled his head down. At the same time, he raised his own head sharply off the floor, effectively delivering an old fashioned Liverpool Kiss, or head-butt, knocking the man senseless.
Lying beneath the now unconscious staffer, Nine prayed that Naylor wouldn’t shoot for fear of hitting his own man. If he did shoot, he was aware the Glock’s kick was such the bullet would go right through the staffer and through him as well. Fortunately, Naylor didn’t shoot. That hesitation was all Nine needed. Pushing the staffer off him, he rolled beneath Naylor’s desk. Only now did the Omega boss shoot. The bullet travelled through the desktop and missed Nine by a whisker. The former operative thought he felt the wind of the bullet as it passed his left ear, but couldn’t be sure.
Before Naylor could loose off a second shot, Nine hurled the desk forward, crushing the old man between it and the wall. Naylor slumped to the floor unconscious.
The efforts of the past few minutes caught up with Nine. Breathing hard, he sat down as the now familiar chest pains coursed through him. He prayed he wasn’t having another heart attack. Fumbling in his trouser pocket, he retrieved the small container of pills he now carried on his person permanently. Popping two into his mouth, he waited for them to take effect. It wasn’t long before the pain passed.
Retrieving his Glock, Nine quickly tied the hands of both men behind their backs. He used his own belt to tie the staffer’s hands then removed the staffer’s belt and used it to tie Naylor’s.
Nine then returned to the computer and, using a flash-drive he’d brought along for just this purpose, downloaded the contents of the two classified files he’d read earlier. He would print them out later to study in more detail.
The former operative was about to extract the flash-drive from the computer when he hesitated. Operating the computer’s mouse, he noticed another confidential file on the monitor. The file was labelled Pedemont Orphan Number Seventeen. He opened it and speed-read its contents in a matter of seconds. So surprised was he by what he learnt about Seventeen, he re-read the file, but more slowly this time.
Finally, he downloaded the file to his flash-drive then extracted it and returned it to his pocket. Not wanting to advertise the fact that he’d accessed that particular file, he clicked out of it.
An audible groan alerted him to the fact the Omega staffer was coming round. Nine delivered a swift punch to the staffer’s jaw, rendering him unconscious once again. A glance at Naylor confirmed the old man was still out to it. Aware he had a couple of minutes at best to make his escape, Nine left the house via the back door.
16
It was mid-morning before Nine reached the outskirts of Chicago. Tired and unshaven, he’d driven through the night since his hurried departure from Naylor’s house. He’d dispensed with his tourist guise, but wore dark glasses and a baseball cap as a precaution against being identified by someone who may not have his best interests at heart.
The former operative was aware if he wasn’t a marked man before, he certainly was now. He was in no doubt Naylor had believed him when he’d said he was wired. The old man would be paranoid that whoever was listening in at the other end had recorded the conversation and could release it to the media any time – and that would be disastrous for Omega and for Naylor personally. For a start, it would turn the spotlight on Omega’s illicit medical labs. From Naylor’s perspective, the fallout from that wouldn’t bare thinking about.
Nine wasn’t happy about the outcome of the raid on Naylor’s house. While he had downloaded the confidential files on the overseas labs, he hadn’t a clue which one Francis had been sent to. And he wasn’t sure Naylor had been telling the truth about the labs. For all Nine knew, there could be others. He couldn’t even be sure the Black Forest lab had been closed down.
However, he was aware that was all the information he was likely to get, and he had to make the most of it and hope it would lead him to Francis.
Nine was straining at the leash to start searching for his son at Omega’s orphanages, but first he had something even more urgent to do: he intended to visit Seventeen. A plan was forming in his mind. For it to work, he needed someone to help him – and his sister was the only one he could turn to. He had no other allies. Not with her skills at least.
The former operative had often thought about Seventeen since he’d fled the agency. After all, she’d been his nemesis throughout his formative years and had left him for dead on their first major overseas assignment. That had been in the rainforests of Guyana, and he’d been fortunate to survive that mission. She’d also killed Isabelle’s parents in France and had come close to killing Isabelle herself at a CIA detention centre in Andorra while trying to get to him.
But those weren’t the only reasons he’d thought about Seventeen. Nine had often recalled the eerie moment they’d shared together in Paris shortly before he’d extricated himself from Omega. On that occasion Seventeen had had the opportunity to kill him, but chose not to. While looking into his sister’s eyes on that winter’s day, Nine felt certain he had seen a different side to Seventeen – a more human and merciful side.
He’d learned from reading the contents of her file that Seventeen was the only other orphan no longer working for Omega. The file had seemingly included every detail of her life – from childhood through to her forced departure from the agency. Her mental breakdown and subsequent expulsion from Omega were covered in minute detail.
There was even a reference to MK-Ultra and to possible side-effects of a mind-control experiment Seventeen had been subjected to, though there was no mention of Naylor’s misuse of that particular tool. Nor was there any mention of Naylor’s sexual abuse of Seventeen while she was under the spell of MK-Ultra.
The reference to mind control had gotten Nine wondering. If he had to bet, it was MK-Ultra that had caused Seventeen’s spectacular meltdown. The file had also confirmed Seventeen had been under the influence of insidious mind control technology when she’d killed their mentor, Tommy Kentbridge, and Isabelle’s parents.
Nine knew about Omega using MK-Ultra on the Pedemont Orphans because Kentbridge had confided in him about it when they’d visited the Black Forest orphanage. Kentbridge had even demonstrated its use by subjecting both him and Seventeen to mind control in order to extricate himself from a tricky situation.
However, the most interesting thing Nine learnt from reading the file was Seventeen had a grandfather. That meant he, too, had a grandfather – a direct link to his and Seventeen’s mother. That revelation had hit him like a bombshell.
For now, though, he had more important things to think a
bout. Like finding his son. He was sick with worry, but forced himself to think like an operative and put his emotions to one side. Kentbridge’s old catch phrase came to him once more: For every problem there’s a solution. Nine just hoped that was true in this case.
The return to Chicago brought back a lot of memories for Nine – memories he’d tried to supress. As always, he attempted to force them from his mind, but that never completely worked. Somehow, they always resurfaced.
Entering Glen Ellyn, Nine focused on what he was about to ask Seventeen to do. He stopped the rental car several properties short of the bungalow he’d learnt was home to his sister and their grandfather.
Nine observed the neat home for a good five minutes to satisfy himself no-one else was watching it. While waiting, he took the opportunity to shave, using an electric shaver he’d brought with him. He wanted to at least look half-presentable when meeting his sister and grandfather.
Leaving the car where it was, Nine walked along the sidewalk and continued right by the bungalow. Surreptitious surveillance of the property confirmed that nothing seemed out of place. Nine immediately retraced his steps and approached the bungalow’s front door. The sound of a radio reached him from inside. He could hear a radio host warning Chicagoans the Windy City was in for another scorching day.
Nine knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again. Eventually, the door opened.
Nine recognized Seventeen immediately. Physically, she was just as he remembered, although there seemed to be a vagueness about her – almost as if nobody was home. He forced a smile. “Hello, Jennifer.”
Seventeen didn’t recognize him at first. It wasn’t until he removed his sunglasses and baseball cap that it dawned on her she was looking at the ninth orphan – her long-time rival and the colleague she’d once left for dead in Guyana. “Sebastian?”
Nine simply nodded. Brother and sister stood staring at each other, awkwardly, for several drawn-out moments.
“I suppose you’d better come in,” a bemused Seventeen said. She led Nine through to the dining room.
Nine immediately spotted the framed photograph of Annette Hannar, their mother. Nine walked over to the photo and stared at his mother intently.
Seventeen looked strangely at him. “You know her?”
Her response telegraphed to Nine that she’d forgotten they were siblings. He debated whether to break it to her gently, but decided to go for the shock factor. “I should know Annette. She’s my mother.”
Seventeen was visibly shaken. “So that makes us…”
“Siblings. I’m your brother. Well, half-brother at least. We have the same mom, but many different fathers thanks to the Pedemont Project.”
As Seventeen digested this information, Nine assessed her. What he observed didn’t inspire him with confidence. It was clear she was damaged goods – a shadow of the elite operative she’d once been. What did they do to you? Having read her file, he already knew the answer to that. The link between MK-Ultra and her current state of mind was depressingly evident.
However, the bigger question was: could she help him?
17
Seventeen was feeling confused. This was her first contact with anyone from her past in four years.
“I hear we have a grandfather,” Nine said.
“What? Oh, yes. Sebastian Hannar.”
That was the first time Nine had heard his grandfather’s name. He realized then he must have been named after him. Nine glanced around. “Where is he?”
“He’s asleep. I always make him breakfast in bed and he usually snoozes through to lunch.”
Again the conversation lapsed.
Finally, Seventeen asked, “What brings you here Nine . . . I mean Sebastian?”
Nine steeled himself for what he was about to ask. Here we go. He’d rehearsed in his mind many times what he was going to say, but now that it was time to say it, he wasn’t feeling at all confident. “After I disappeared off the grid, I got married. Her name’s Isabelle. Isabelle Alleget. You met her. Remember?” How could you forget? You tortured my wife and murdered her parents. He waited for a reaction.
Seventeen shook her head. She genuinely appeared to have no recollection of having met Isabelle.
Nine pressed on. “We have a son. The agency has taken him from us.” He paused to allow time for this to sink in.
Seventeen heard what Nine was saying, but was having trouble digesting the information. In her present state of mind, it was too much to take in, in one hit. “You have a son?”
“Yes. His name’s Francis.”
“Where have they taken him?”
“To one of Omega’s new orphanages, a secret offshore medical lab somewhere. I don’t know which one of the orphanages it is, but I aim to find out.”
“Why did they take him?”
“For scientific tests and medical experimentation. His unique DNA means he’s of interest to Omega’s medical gurus. Apparently, testing Francis will help fast-track the agency’s cloning operations.”
Seventeen frowned as she disseminated this. The information revived hazy memories of her time with the Omega Agency and with the Pedemont Orphanage before that.
Nine could almost see Seventeen’s mind racing to come up to speed. He knew he was loading a lot onto her, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop. “I need you to help me.”
“Me? What can I do?”
“You can protect Isabelle to ensure Omega don’t abduct her as well.” Having caught up with Seventeen, Nine wasn’t sure she could protect herself let alone Isabelle. But he pressed on.
Over the next few minutes, he quickly explained how he’d left Isabelle with friends in Tahiti, but was afraid Omega would get to her before he found Francis. Nine said if that happened, the agency could use her as leverage to force him to stop searching for Francis. He also mentioned that Isabelle was in the advanced stages of pregnancy.
At the mention of Isabelle’s pregnancy, Seventeen looked up sharply. “So they’ll want to take the baby, too.” It was a statement more than a question.
Nine was impressed that Seventeen was sufficiently with it to recognize the danger Isabelle was in. Hallelujah! There’s hope yet. He pressed on. “Yes, I don’t doubt they’ll want the baby as well.” That’s it. That’s my final card. Nine sat back and awaited Seventeen’s answer. He didn’t have long to wait.
Seventeen had made up her mind as soon as she’d learned Nine wanted her help. He was asking her to re-enter the ugly world of espionage – a world she’d left far behind. She feared that to revisit that world would cost her, her sanity. Even now, listening to her brother, she felt as if she was on the verge of another breakdown. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” She shook her head.
Nine had feared that would be her answer. In the five years since he’d last seen her, she’d changed from an operative without peer – a trained killer with a mind like a steel trap – to someone else altogether.
The old Seventeen would have been a great ally to have in his current predicament, but this new Seventeen was different. She’d obviously settled for living in the suburbs, caring for their grandfather, and she had no intention of returning to her former life. Deep down, he couldn’t blame her.
The strained silence between them was interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing from another room.
“That’s Grandpa,” Seventeen said. She sounded relieved. “He’ll be ready to get up. Excuse me a minute.” She hurried from the room.
Alone, Nine debated whether to stay or go. He’d already reached the conclusion that Seventeen’s mind wouldn’t be changed. Having observed her, he wasn’t sure she’d be of much use anyway. She seemed out of touch with the real world.
Nine was about to leave when Seventeen returned to the room wheeling a frail Sebastian Hannar.
“Grandpa,” she said, “this is Sebastian, your grandson.”
Sebastian Senior looked up from beneath bushy eyebrows and surveyed the stranger who had arrived unannounced in
their midst. “You must be Annette’s son,” he rasped.
Seventeen gasped in amazement. “Yes Grandpa, this is mom’s son.” She turned to Nine and smiled. “That’s the first time he has said more than one word in months,” she whispered.
Nine suddenly felt overwhelmed. After a lifetime of being separated from people he was related to by blood, here he was in the presence of his grandfather and sister. Nine studied the old man and approached him with something bordering on reverence. He extended his right hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
Sebastian Senior took his grandson’s hand in his bony hand and shook it. His other hand remained clasped around a trusty walking stick, which he carried with him out of habit. Nine waited for him to speak further, but nothing more was forthcoming.
Assessing his grandfather, Nine could tell there was an inner strength behind his physical frailty. He could see steel in his blue eyes and guessed he would have been a man to be reckoned with once upon a time.
Seventeen wheeled Sebastian Senior over to the dining table. She turned back to Nine. “Join us for a bite, Sebastian?”
“I- -” Nine’s response was cut short by a loud knock on the front door.
“Excuse me.” Seventeen went to answer the door.
“Wait!” Nine ordered. He hurried to the window and peeked through a gap in the curtains. A four-wheel drive vehicle, not dissimilar to the one he’d seen outside Naylor’s house, was parked out front. He suddenly had a bad feeling. Turning to Seventeen, he whispered, “I’m not here and you haven’t seen me.”
Seventeen nodded and left the dining room to answer the door. Nine hurried from the room and hid in the first bedroom he came to. The musty smell and dated décor indicated it was Sebastian Senior’s room. As a precaution, he drew his Glock from its holster.
18
Nine kept the door slightly ajar in order to listen. He could hear Seventeen talking to someone. A man’s voice carried to him, then another, confirming there were at least two men at the door.