Don't Order Dog: 1 (Jeri Halston Series)

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Don't Order Dog: 1 (Jeri Halston Series) Page 50

by C. T. Wente


  “Of course I did,” Jeri replied. “How could I not? Your descriptions of the places, your stories about the people around you, your completely warped sense of humor… I loved all of it.” She reached into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the handle of the utility knife. “But what I loved most of all were your cleverly hidden messages to Chip regarding the status of your latest victims.”

  Chilly smiled as he stared down at the turquoise-colored water beneath them. “Me too,” he said quietly.

  Jeri watched him expectantly. “So?” she finally asked, taking a step closer.

  Chilly glanced over at her. “So what?”

  “Chip said you were going to explain everything to me.”

  “He did? Wait, let me guess – did he tell you he was retiring?”

  Jeri glanced behind her. In the distance the older man was leaning against the van watching them. He raised his arm and waved.

  “Well, yeah… he did,” she replied as she turned and gave Chilly a quizzical look. “What difference does it make?”

  “I should have known,” Chilly said, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea how many times Chip has pulled this stunt? He’s retired more times than Sugar Ray Leonard.” He turned and once again focused his attention on the view.

  Jeri glared at him as a sudden wave of anger erased her timidness. Without thinking she walked over and grabbed him roughly by the arm. “Listen,” she said, twisting him towards her, “I don’t give a damn about Chip’s retirement status. I just spent twelve hours stuffed inside an oversized toolbox wondering if someone was going to put a bullet in my head. And now I’m stuck in the middle of Mexico with a murdering pen pal and an old man who wants me to be a part of his agency– whatever the hell that means. My entire world has been turned upside down because of you two, and I’m done. I want some fucking answers. So tell me,” she said, quickly pulling the utility knife from her pocket and pressing the blade to his throat. “What am I doing here, and why should I believe you’re anything more than a terrorist?”

  Chilly glanced down at the knife before looking admiringly into Jeri’s eyes.

  “Nicely done.”

  “Thank you. Now start talking.”

  He stared at her intently with a tight, serious expression. “Do you know how many people under the same circumstances have attempted what you just did?”

  “No, and I don’t care.”

  “Less than one percent,” Chilly replied matter-of-factly. “I’m serious. We’ve run this scenario countless times before, but no one’s ever tried this. Regardless of how scared or angry they’ve been, no one’s ever used that knife to confront me. That’s impressive.”

  Jeri pressed the knife harder against his neck. “I swear to god, if you don’t start explaining what this is about, I’m going to–”

  Chilly suddenly leaned his body back away from the sharp blade. At the same time he deftly grabbed her wrist and snapped her arm violently upwards. In an instant Jeri was lifted off the ground and propelled towards him. She collided against his broad chest as he wrenched her arm overhead, forcing her to lose her grip on the knife. Jeri then watched in stunned silence as her only weapon flew high into the air above them before sailing over the edge of the bluff. She followed its tumbling descent to the beach far below, then glanced anxiously at Chilly. His handsome face hovered just inches from hers. He stared back at Jeri with a placid, friendly expression as he slowly lowered her arm, his muscular body pressed firmly against hers.

  He then gently released her wrist and took a step back.

  “Recruitment, Jeri,” he said calmly, reaching into his back pocket. “That’s the answer to your question. To all of your questions.”

  Jeri watched as he pulled a cigarette from a mangled pack and quickly lit it. His dark, intelligent eyes narrowed on her as he inhaled. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “I’m telling you what we do,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’re not terrorists. We’re corporate recruiters.”

  Jeri eyed him skeptically. “You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Okay then, convince me.”

  Chilly gave her a thin smile as a gust of hot, sandy wind swept over the bluff, whipping the smoke from his cigarette into oblivion. “Did you read the book?” he asked flatly.

  “Yes, I did,” Jeri replied. “What else was I supposed to do on the drive down?”

  “Care to give me a quick summary?”

  Jeri cocked her head in irritation. “Is this a test?”

  Chilly smiled. “Everything’s a test, Jeri.”

  “Fine, here’s your summary,” Jeri replied curtly. “My father believed that the world’s economic power was going to shift from major governments to large multi-national corporations. He based this belief on a fundamental rule of evolutionary biology – that an organism’s size and strength are dictated by the limitations of its environment. Of course ‘environment’ is better defined as ‘economy’ in this sense, but the principle still applies. My father understood that while a government’s growth and power are limited by the boundaries of its own economy, those same limitations are far broader for global corporations. Of course, if you believe my father’s premise, then you know it’s only a question of time before the world’s largest corporations grow into the corporate states he described. Once they do, they will become the new economic and financial world powers; the global apex predators that control everything around them. From the governments that set the laws, to the media that cover the news, to the consumers that purchase the products– the corporate states’ collective political and economic influence will be inescapable. From that point forward, nothing will be as it appears. Corporate-driven wars designed for pure economic gain will be sanctioned by governments and fought under the guise of humanitarian or ideological differences. Corporate-controlled media will subvert the true facts to coincide with their own agendas. And the rest of us – the consuming masses – well, most of us won’t have a clue that anything ever changed in the first place.”

  She crossed her arms and glared at him harshly.

  “How was that?”

  “That was perfect,” Chilly replied. “Which means I don’t need to explain just how much power your father entrusted to Chip when he handed him that book. You’re a smart woman, Jeri. You know that everything your father predicted in those pages is coming true. Imagine being handed something that predicted the evolution of the global economy twenty-five years before it happened. Imagine the doors that information would open for you. Christ, the money you could make on Wall Street alone would be in the billions.” He took a deep drag of his cigarette and shook his head. “It would be so easy to abuse that knowledge, to use it for your own selfish ends.”

  Chilly paused and tossed his cigarette onto the ground before crushing it under his foot. He then turned and looked at her. “But what if you didn’t?”

  “Excuse me?” Jeri asked, taken aback by his stare.

  “What if you decided to take that knowledge and use it for good? You know… to protect those things that needed protection. Or to help regulate those things that were beginning to grow beyond anyone’s control.”

  “That sounds great,” Jeri answered sarcastically. “And just how would you do that?”

  “By manipulating things from the inside,” Chilly replied, his mouth creasing into a grin. “After all, even the world’s largest corporations have their weaknesses. For all their power, they still have one serious vulnerability – and that one vulnerability just happens to be their single greatest asset.”

  “Which is?”

  “Their human capital – the people at the top. Of course, I’m not talking about the executives. The guys in suits will come and go. No, I’m talking about the geniuses with a vision of tomorrow and the scientists sitting in laboratories discovering the next big idea. They’re the ones that really matter. They’re the ones the corporations can’t afford to lose. Mo
re importantly, they’re the ones that competing corporations will do anything to get their hands on.”

  He paused and gave her a conspiratorial smile.

  “And that’s where we come in. Our little agency was created by Chip for one primary purpose – to recruit the world’s top talent. More specifically, we acquire some of the more critical personnel within giant multi-national companies – or ‘corporate states’ as your father liked to call them – and redistribute them to their smaller rivals. You might say our agency is the business equivalent of Robin Hood. When it comes to human resources, we steal from the rich and give to the poor.”

  “And how often does recruit really mean kill?” Jeri demanded.

  “Never.”

  “Oh really?” she said, shaking her head. “Then what’s your excuse for killing Petronus Energy employees?”

  “I don’t need one,” Chilly shrugged. “No Petronus employees have been killed. We just made it look like they were.” He raised a finger to his lips and smiled. “But keep that to yourself. That’s one of our little trade secrets.”

  Jeri glared at him in surprise. “You faked their deaths?”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “But why?”

  “I said these corporations are vulnerable, not stupid. They know the value of their people better than anyone – which is why most of their best talent is usually hidden away in hard-to-find facilities or some far corner of the world. That’s why the people we recruit can’t just disappear. It would raise too many eyebrows. Their departures have to be more definitive – hence the reason for making everyone believe they’re dead.”

  “And exactly how do you do that?”

  “The process is always the same,” Chilly replied. “After we’ve identified the recruit, we find a suitable package. The package is just a fresh corpse… someone unfortunate enough to have died in the local area that matches the recruit’s sex, height, and basic body type. Once we’ve got a suitable package, we figure out a scenario for falsifying our recruit’s death that looks and feels plausible, like a car accident or some random act of terrorism. Then we put the final touches on the package, put the scenario in play, and, when nobody’s looking–” Chilly looked at her sternly and snapped his finger. “We take them.”

  “And these smaller corporations… they pay you to do this?” Jeri asked.

  “Yes,” Chilly answered, nodding his head. “Quite a lot in fact.”

  “Right, of course they do,” Jeri replied flatly. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t sound very much like recruitment to me. It sounds more like slavery.”

  “On the contrary,” Chilly replied, giving her an odd grin. “Imagine a company wanting you so badly they’re willing to blow up half of a city block to get you. Do you really think they’d go to that much trouble without making it worth your while?”

  Jeri stared at him suspiciously. “Wait… please don’t tell me that you–”

  “We’re not bad people, Jeri,” Chilly interrupted. “Despite everything that might lead you to believe otherwise, we’re not murderers or terrorists. Hell, we’re not even home wreckers. We won’t take a job if the recruit in question has kids or a spouse. And we don’t just take any assignment.”

  “What do you mean?” Jeri asked.

  “Well, take Petronus for example,” Chilly said as he lit another cigarette from his crumpled pack and gazed out at the sea. “The five people we recruited aren’t just ordinary researchers. All of them are leading experts in the field of alternative energy development.”

  “Unfortunately, what nobody bothered to tell them while they were happily working away in their laboratories is that Petronus has actually been systematically stockpiling their alternative energy discoveries for the sole purpose of keeping the demand – and of course price – for oil at a premium. After all, the company owns roughly forty-three percent of the world’s current untapped oil reserves – and a new alternative energy source could pose a significant threat to the value of all that beautiful crude. So what do they do? They collect all those brilliant ideas from their brightest people and quietly lock them away. Luckily, our five new recruits are going to be heading up research for a corporation that will actually turn their ideas into real-life technologies.”

  He turned and looked at Jeri.

  “That’s why we took this assignment. Some things are simply too important to be left in the hands of their corporate keepers. Some ideas are too vital to be kept from the world.” He paused and took a drag of his cigarette. “Are you starting to understand the true nature of what we’re doing here?”

  Jeri nodded her head. “And then there’s me,” she said somberly. “I was recruited the same way as the others, wasn’t I?”

  “Correct.”

  “Which means Joe’s Last Stand Saloon is now a smoking pile of rubble and the rest of the world thinks I’m dead.”

  “Correct again.”

  “And you’re telling me no one else was killed in all this?”

  Chilly looked at her in silence for a moment. “Not by us,” he said quietly.

  Jeri suddenly spun on her heels and began walking along the edge of the bluff. She walked slowly, deep in thought, before eventually turning and pacing purposefully back to Chilly.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth from the beginning? Why didn’t you just ask me to be a part of this?”

  “Because that isn’t how this works,” Chilly replied, shaking his head. “Look Jeri, I know exactly how you feel right now. You’re coming into this the same way as the rest of us. None of us were asked to do this… none of us. You don’t bring people into an agency like this by asking. There’s too much at stake if someone says no. We’re brought into this brave new world the same way as our clients – without a choice.” He laid his hand gently on her shoulder. “But I promise that once you see what you’ve been brought into, you’ll come to the same conclusion as the rest of us. That there’s nothing else in this world you’d rather be doing.”

  Jeri gave him a sharp look. “And what if I still said no?”

  “You won’t.”

  “But what if I did?”

  Chilly took another drag of his cigarette and shrugged. “Well, since no one’s ever left before, I’m not entirely sure. Most likely you’d just get a nice severance check and a one-way ticket to anywhere in the world. Excluding Arizona of course.

  Oh, and a shot of diazepam to erase your memory. But that’s about it.”

  Jeri watched as a grin slowly creased is face.

  “I’m just kidding, Jeri.”

  “Sure,” Jeri replied. “About everything but the diazepam.”

  Chilly’s expression suddenly grew serious. “Your father only asked two favors of Chip in his lifetime. The first was to take his book and to do something good with it. The second was to look after his daughter when he knew he was dying. That first favor brought this agency into being, and the second brought you into this agency. If that isn’t a textbook definition of destiny, I don’t know what is.”

  He stepped forward and stared intently into Jeri’s amber-colored eyes. “So what do you say?” he asked firmly. “Are you ready to get started?”

  Jeri turned and looked out at the shimmering blue water beneath her. The wind had lightened to a gentle, sea-scented breeze and the full warmth of the afternoon sun now engulfed her. A memory of her father suddenly filled her mind, his handsome young face smiling at her as he lay stretched out on rock along a mountainside trail. She closed her eyes and let the memory slowly fade into darkness. The pleading cry of a seagull drifted through the air as the wind teased the locks of her hair. She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes, then turned and faced Chilly.

  “I’m ready,” Jeri said assertively. “So when do we begin?”

  “Tomorrow,” Chilly answered, glancing wryly at the van in the distance. “We’ve got a retirement party already scheduled for today.”

  “Fine. Tomorrow it is,” Jeri replied. She then stepped forward
and gave him a calm smile. “By the way,” she said, extending her hand, “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Jeri… Jeri Stone.”

  Chilly looked at her curiously for a moment before taking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Jeri,” he said, squeezing her hand gently. “I’m Chilly.” He quietly leaned towards her, his handsome face easing into a grin. Jeri felt her face suddenly blush with heat as he pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered softly.

  “But you can call me Sam.”

  --- The End ---

  About the Author

  C. T. Wente lives in San Diego, California with his wife Linda.

  Don’t Order Dog represents his first full-length fiction novel.

  For more information on the author, including upcoming novels,

  please visit www.toddwente.com.

 

 

 


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