Thomas was sitting on a deck chair, staring at the waves crashing to the shore. Wearing only black boxers, she could see the tattoo at the nape of his neck, a single spider web. He always said he had chosen it because it looked unique but she sometimes wondered if it symbolized what their lives together meant to him. The tangled web she was trapped in, caught between the things she could not tell him and the things he wanted to know. Yet, they clung onto each other in the simple comfort of love and the sense of belonging they provided each other. She slid the glass door open and bent to kiss her lover, a gentle kiss on the lips.
"Morning Tom Tom."
"Hey ... good morning." His reply was absent-minded while his eyes held a faraway look. Cathy could not resist the urge to lean over and tickle him.
He pulled away, then slowly turned to face to her. "Sweets, I know it's the first thing in the morning but I need to know. Why do you have a picture of a man in your bag?"
"You went through my stuff?!"
In the six years together, she had never remembered him opening her wardrobe, let alone her handbag.
"I was looking for a light," he said as he inhaled his cigarette, "and I know you always carried one in your bag for guests."
He did his best to smile but the frustration he felt inside was more than apparent in his eyes.
"So ... tell me ... who is he? He can't be a job applicant because there's no resume. He can't be related to MoonStar because there's no press release. And yet, you've concealed his picture among your personal things."
"Tom Tom!" Cathy's voice pleaded but she also knew he needed consolation and assurance, not so much for sorrow but for fear of losing her all over again.
“No Cat, you need to start paying attention to what I'm saying. I've loved you all my life. You know that. And I'll keep loving you for the rest of my life but I won't let you shut me out, not anymore. Whatever it is, tell me and I'll listen. If it's something so severe that you think I cannot accept, I'll work my way through it. But tell me and don't you dare decide for me.”
Cathy watched fury flash across his face. He rarely got angry but when he did, turning him away was impossible and she knew this. Nothing was more infuriating than realising you were up against the unknown. Indeed, knowledge was power. But more than this, it was the power of certainty that people craved. She reached out and held his hand in hers.
"That was my ... my target. In Manila, the Philippines."
"Your target?!" asked Thomas, his tone was incredulous. He closely watched her expression and half expected her to suddenly burst into laughter. Her red hair would bob in the sun and she would tell him it was all a practical joke. But no laughter came. She didn’t even a smile.
"As in you assassinate people?"
Cathy took a deep breath. "No, well ... not really. I work for an agency known as the CI-7. Elite to the point of being unknown. It spans across several countries. Mostly they deal with anti-terrorism plots, illegal weapon purchases on a global scale. Other issues also, like money laundering, illegal bonds ... mostly white collar stuff."
Thomas glanced at her open-mouthed. "As in you're a spy?!"
She slowly nodded. "I'm sorry Tom Tom. But life never really gives you the right moment to say, 'Hey hon, I'm a spy for an undercover multi-government operations task force', not to mention completely top secret and virtually unknown."
"So wait, all that paranoia about me ... oh my God, Cat! These are the same people who took you from prison." It was his turn to take a deep breath. "I'm going to need a bit of time to wrap my head around this ... I'm ... keep talking but I'm pretty certain I'm going to have some more questions for you later."
"They offered me immunity from the murder charge. As long as I changed my name and played by their rules. Training lasted about four years. The job at MoonStar is a tool to keep track of some of the targets. What better way to keep track of travelling terrorists than to have someone working in the travel trade, I guess."
A long pause followed, as the two lovers reflected together. Their fingers were entwined like their hearts and feelings for each other. Each of them digested the different aspects of this recent revelation. Cathy feared for herself but she was more concerned about his safety. Thomas was relieved that finally some of the pieces of his own life fell into place.
"Do you kill people, Cat?" he asked. His voice was almost a whisper.
"No Tom Tom, I don't. I'm given the picture and location. I meet with the target. Sometimes once and sometimes more, over a meal or coffee and I start, well ... talking to them. Trying to do business with them. Once the organization has enough information, they are taken in for more questioning and I don't know what becomes of them. I think most times, I don't want to know. I've seen some of the interrogations that have taken place and it's made me sick in the stomach. They told me that one day, I'll get used to it and I think that's what terrifies me the most. The day I lose myself between the shadows of taking a life so I can save another. But ... I don't know ... maybe that's what I did with my father."
"When you were inside ... did they ever hit you ... do bad stuff to you?"
"Don't ... don't do this Tom Tom. The more you know, the more perplexed you will become. I'm here now and that's what counts."
"But it is dangerous isn't it? What are the chances that someone finds out who you are and gets to you?"
He watched Cathy shift uneasily.
"I guess, but the chances are slim ...," her voice trailed off. The danger of such a life was apparent but after all this time, Cathy was still finding her way and no definite answers to give him.
In some ways, she felt this was retribution for ending her father's life. As she stole his future, now day by day he took hers, even after being dead for so long.
"And MoonStar, how many people there do you think know about you, about the targets?" Thomas' mind shifted into overdrive as he thought of all the ways he could lose her again.
But the very fact that she had pulled off these missions and achieved her way with past targets assigned to her, he had a new kind of admiration for her.
"I don't know who else in MoonStar works for them. But I know there is someone high up. My work training, my promotions. It was too well co-ordinated. I literally felt like I was being watched all the time which is why I stand by the simple rule, trust no one. Maybe it’s no one by my side or it could be the assistant who pours my coffee, I don't know Tom."
It was past 9:00 a.m. now and people were flocking to the beach. Children screamed with glee as they ran towards the water with their small floats tied around their little bodies. ‘Such innocence,’ Cathy thought. "We used to be like that." she muttered.
Thomas squeezed her hand tightly. "Cat ... I need to know ... When you go on your missions ... have you ever been, you know ... with another ... with someone else?"
Looking him in the eye, she realized that he expected nothing less than the truth. Cathy squeezed his hand.
"No. But Thomas, I will tell you that they know about you. When I finished my training and was told to wait for my first assignment at MoonStar, I was given strict orders never to contact anyone from my past. You included. But that night as I sat inside the cab it was the first time that the entire situation hit me full in the gut and I realised I didn't have anywhere else to go. I was hoping that you hadn't moved away or that you wouldn't turn me away. At that point, I figured even if I was caught coming to see you, I would have been able to see you one last time. I just had to see you, even if it was from a distance. Over the years, they found out about our sneaky adventures ... the few days when I would just go off the grid and I was warned that if something did happen to you, if an enemy caught up with you ... they wouldn't save you, that whatever happened to you, it would rest on my head ... forever."
Thomas gently drew her to him and held her tightly.
"You're all I have and I don't want to keep living two lives. Sometimes I don't know which one is real. I don't know who I am," she said.
"Hey,
I'm real. I'm all here and you should have told me."
"Oh come on Tom Tom. You say that now. But imagine if I had shown up on your doorstep all those nights ago, just released from prison with some cock and bull fantasy about being part of a secret agency. You would have thought I had been set loose from a madhouse."
Thomas chuckled. "Yea, come to think of it ... good point. Might have. But Cat, I've said it before and I'll say it again and again. You have to start trusting me. And whatever happens, we'll cope. I promise you, we'll get through it together. I don't want to know about the targets, that's none of my business and I get the privacy issues involved but you ... you're all I've got and I want to know about you. You can't just lock me out and I won't let you. You got that?"
He hugged her again then kissed her on the forehead. In the morning sunlight, her red hair shone even more brightly. "So ... I thought of some ways to celebrate our sixth year together. A-we can get back into bed together or B-we can take a long shower, also together of course or C-we can order room service, an enormous breakfast and then we can get into bed together. What do you think about that for a mission, Cathy Dixon?"
Cathy laughed. "Sounds like a plan, Thomas Clarke. Hey Sweets, I am sorry you know that, right?"
"Shush, there's nothing for you to be sorry about. Really. But hang on, that whole fantasy about someone is always watching, is that really true?"
"Yea, pretty much. Emails, text messages there is always someone assigned to look it over so it's no fantasy I guess. Why? What are you hiding?"
He chuckled. "Nothing. Just curious. Plus, you've always been so pissy about emails and phone calls. Hell, I get emails from all sorts of random Internet cafes you visit. It always made me think that you did have psychotic tendencies."
Thomas moved back as Cathy playfully tried to jab him in his belly. "What kind of spy gadgets do you have? Those fancy pens with a needle inside? Or ... or what about those fancy pair of shades which are actually cameras?"
"Tom Tom ..."
"You have to show me your stuff, Cat."
"There's really nothing to show Tom, I promise. And I think you have to stop watching those James Bond reruns."
"Oh but those spy movies are right about one thing, you know," he said ruefully as they went back into their room.
Cathy turned to face him. She wondered what else his mind was going to churn out. "Hot chicks, like you."
"Tom!" This time he was not fast enough and her elbow dug into his ribs.
"Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying. And you know there is some of your other stuff that you can show me, spy woman."
"Really now?" Cathy giggled as he pulled her into bed with him.
VENICE, ITALY
December 2008
Stretched across one hundred islands, the city of Venice has made its mark in history with a variety of different titles. It has been labelled as the City of Masks, the City of Bridges, the Floating City and City of Canals, to name a few. Having started out as a powerful marketing force, that controlled silk trade and spices, Venice diversified its specialties through the years. For centuries, especially during the blossoming days of the Renaissance period, it has been the birthplace to many a musician, composer and painter. This includes Antonio Vivaldi, Andrea Gabrieli and Giovanni Belinni.
It was also home to Philosopher Elena Piscopia, the first woman in the world to receive a Doctorate Degree. In tandem with its rich culture in music, art and history, Venice has continued the various festivals which had made the city popular in the past. The Carnival of Masks which is a popular tourist attraction is held before Ash Wednesday and has also become an annual gathering for a few artistic organisations.
Venice Biennale is a festival that celebrates artistic ventures and has been held annually since 1893. It is an international attraction alongside the Venice Film Festival which is held in August every year. The city lent its name to Shakespeare's play the Merchant of Venice and has been the scenic backdrop for a variety of Hollywood blockbusters such as The Talented Mr. Ripley, Lara Croft, The Italian Job and was the setting for Madonna's controversial hit "Like A Virgin".
Venice is also labelled as one of the most visited cities in the world with tourism accounting for 28% of its economy. It offers visitors a riveting journey into the past through its well maintained historical buildings and sites. It also offers newer tourist options that include a host of luxurious hotels, boutiques and European cuisine. If anything, a snapshot of its picturesque background is reason enough for anyone to visit Venice.
The day after Christmas was always a busy time for the associates of MoonStar Venice. The annual Boxing Day Gala meant that The Venetian, the main restaurant at the property hosted a special buffet which opened from the wee hours of 6:00 a.m. on Boxing Day till 6:00 a.m. the following day. At any given time, 1001 dishes were presented to Christmas diners. Twelve different types of liquors were available and flowed freely through the day. Priced at $800 per person, it was the "all you can eat" buffet one dreamt about.
Most guests stopped by for the three main meals. They leisurely explored each culinary delight but went about their day attending to last minute Christmas gifts or meeting with family and friends. Of course, some parked themselves, with family and friends in tow, at the restaurant and took full advantage of the amount they had paid for the buffet.
From his glass office at the corner of the lobby, Gary, the property's Guest Services Manager watched. Making full use of their digital cameras, a group of youngsters swarmed the main lobby. The guys held out small shoots of mistletoe which the laughing girls spotted. They each smacked a kiss on the guys' lips. More pictures were snapped. More hugs were shared. Yes, joy floated in the air.
But Gary's thoughts were far from anything that resembled Christmas joy. He looked around him at the guest service office of MoonStar Venice. He had worked at this MoonStar property for more than three years and with the hotel chain for more than ten. Years earlier, in desperate need of an after school job to support his ailing mother, he had applied to be a bellboy at MoonStar London.
Guests had adored his gentle manner and the polite smile he offered them, irrelevant of how he was treated. Within a year, hotel management took notice and offered him an internship with the hotel chain. The opportunity of a lifetime to travel, meet people and be able to support his mother. It did not take him long to accept. He hired Mama a good nurse to care for her and even stay with her. He sent her the money she needed and still he had enough to live his dream.
The internship program he joined had allowed him to choose which department he would work for. He had selected guest services. He loved to see a happy guest, answer their questions and solve their problems. He always believed every guest needed assurances that "a holiday did not have to be coupled with worry".
For Gary, it was never just a job. Every single day, he lived for it. At least it was, until five weeks ago, when the website had cropped up. The pictures were horrific. Proof and accusations the site piled up against him were tremendous. He had no way of refuting any of it. He wrote to the site administrator and asked to have it taken down. He even begged over the phone. But they laughed at him and said he had finally got what he deserved.
Then the emails started. Each one was delivered from a different email address and each threatened to inform MoonStar Corporate, guests he had previously dealt with and acquaintances. Rude phone calls woke him up at 3:00 a.m. then kept him awake for days. Each time the hushed voice told him to burn in hell and sounded a cackling laugh. A few days before Christmas, he had received a note during morning briefing. It said that a Christmas gift which he must receive in person was waiting for him in his office.
When he arrived, the entire glass space was filled with pictures from the website. Printed in various sizes, the pictures were stuck for all of MoonStar Venice to see. Unsure of who else had seen it, he removed the pictures as fast as he could.
For all the good he had accomplished in his life, he was tormented in a w
ay he knew he did not deserve. But who would listen? In the few weeks the site had been operational, discussion groups had formed, opinions added and more people informed. The last he checked, the site had reached more than three million viewers. Who was he to go against three million people?
Hushed voices greeted Cathy as she approached the executive meeting room at MoonStar Venice. Eight days earlier, their Guest Services Manager had committed suicide at the staff quarters where he had lived. Gary had hung himself from a wooden beam in the room with a belt.
Always one for punctuality, a junior associate suspected something amiss when he had not shown up for work and had gone looking for him. She saw him hanging from the beam through a window and had asked Security to break down the door. It was at that very moment that hell made a quick descent on this property.
Even in death, Gary was thoughtful. Politely, his letter apologised for any mess or inconvenience he might have caused. He provided detailed arrangements for his funeral. Other details included medical and accommodation arrangements for his mother. Obviously, Gary had put much thought into his suicide. This had raised many questions with management. As they started asking around, they came across the website, GayGary.com which showed Gary engaged in various sexual acts with other men, even teenage boys. He was seen kissing in bars and even having one of the MoonStar associates perform oral sex on him in his office.
Frequent Traveller (Cathy Dixon #1) Page 8