Vile Machinations

by P. S. Power

  His hand on her shoulder didn’t move, even if they started asking things that he didn’t know much about at all.

  For his part, he simply repeated what others asked of him.

  “What do you know about the Jason Group, Parker?”

  That got an interesting answer, since it came with an actual shrug. A thing that very few bothered to do when in contact with him. It showed that her indicating she really didn't know was her current truth, at least on that one subject.

  Her words indicated the same thing.

  “I know about what the rest of you do. They’re concentrating on the creation of transhuman super beings. Immortals that have godlike powers. I’m not in their loop at all.”

  Everything was gone over, several times, without finding a lot of new information. A little, probably meaning that the boring work was worth doing, just for that. In the end, Stephen waved to his son, his lean face seeming flat.

  “Let go of her now, if you don’t have anything else for her to answer that she won’t recall later? Stay close to her, however. We need to fake a questioning, leaving the key things out. Can you run that, Connor?”

  The question was actually a good one, even if it sounded a bit like the plan was for him to fail at it. There were things that it would be best for the woman not to recall having told them, after all. Standing back about six feet, he waited the fifteen seconds the woman needed to come back to herself.

  Then he started right in.

  “Parker, what were your orders here, in regards to myself?” She’d already mentioned that portion of things. It was a side project that had come up in the last days, after he was kicked out of school. No one knew if it was going to be important or not on her side of things.

  Her face held a smile when she said the words, this time.

  “I’m supposed to get you into bed, if I can. Better, I was set to getting you to marry me, if possible. It wasn’t considered very likely. Other than that, I was supposed to try and get you to confide in me. The goal was to steal you away from the Order, if I could pull it off.”

  Nodding, he went on to the next idea.

  “What about Stephen Harriman? What were your orders there?”

  That answer was a good bit more interesting. No one in the world figured that the young woman and she wasn’t old at all, would be able to entice the man with her charms. Not even using her pheromone trick. That one was a tool for her to use, without it being that novel or considered clever at all. The man’s medical nano network would remove the chemicals from the air before they could even touch him.

  Connor allowed himself to be drawn off into tangents, with Parker clearly trying to use the truth to lead him away from certain ideas. No mention was made of her being there to get at the secret system, for instance. She started to speak on it a few times, and stopped talking, fighting not to give herself away. Then a different truth was barked out. As if she’d been fighting that information, not the real truth.

  Even to him it was incredibly obvious. Still, half an hour later, as she was starting to go over the fact that she didn't find him very interesting at all, for the third time, Connor moved back by about ten feet.

  Turning to the room, he looked at Doc, instead of his Father.

  “That should do it. What’s the plan now?” Killing the spy came to mind, except that, if they were going to do that, it didn’t make a lot of sense to do the questioning in a way that the woman would recall at all. The trick, of course, was for him to seem mildly annoyed that the hot woman didn’t appreciate him physically. Even if he did have a cute behind. All that running and being lean worked for that, pretty well, he had to figure.

  That she had no real use for him wasn’t the most wonderful thing in the world to hear, but he was used enough to hearing that kind of thing it didn’t actually derail his thinking.

  Bertie stood up and waved at the other woman.

  “Do you want to do her? The rest of us can leave, if you want. Or we can watch?”

  The words weren’t pointed at him at all. Instead they seemed to be for the woman who was shackled to the chair. A thing that, from her answers before, wouldn’t bother her that much. The problem there was that Doc had created a dilemma for him, since he was going to be forced to answer now. It was, from what he’d been told, kind of normal for the different groups to be rather deviant, sexually. The Order wasn’t the worst that way, even. Mariah however was pretty sick that way, so their captive wouldn’t expect to not be used by them, even if she was being let go.

  After the woman being questioned having told him all about how she thought he wasn’t that great looking or interesting, everyone there would probably think that the normal thing for him to do, at least for a member of one of their collective groups, would be to use the woman. Probably in a painful or humiliating fashion. If he didn’t do that kind of thing, he’d appear weak.

  Except that Connor didn’t really want to bother with the woman at all that way. He could come up with nifty tricks and even tortures and she wouldn’t recall it later, if he did it. Just forcing her to have sex wouldn’t even really bother her much, he didn’t doubt.

  Rather than let himself seem upset, he countered with a different offer.

  “We can all take turns? Or we can just shoot her… Whichever works for you.” Connor locked eyes with Doctor Short, who actually made a face at him, from where she sat, along the far wall. It seemed annoyed.

  A thing he could feel for himself.

  No one in the room moved for a bit, as a buzzing came from several phones in the room. All of them. Not that he had one of his own. The hardline on the table across the room rang, as everyone pulled what they had, to read about what was going on.

  Walker was the one that explained to himself and Parker.

  “We have an issue in Australia. A situation that might involve some of our assets. Meaning we don’t have time for fun right now. Mr. Harriman, we need to move you, now. Doctor Short, you’re needed in your lab.” He stopped for a moment and looked at Connor, his shoulders coming up. “Connor, you’re actually off to the problem area. It’s a hostage situation. You’ll be briefed on the way. We have to move, now.”

  Connor acted like he knew what was going on, and moved out, walking rapidly. Walker followed him, with his father about ten feet behind the large man. No one spoke until they got out of the hallway. Connor expected to be informed that there was no real emergency, and that it had been a clever ruse to get him out of the room without having to rape Parker, which didn’t happen at all. Stephen stopped and waved at him.

  “There’s a cargo flight leaving in one hour. We’ll have your papers on the plane. Meet your transport on level two. That’s… We have an automated vehicle ready for him?”

  Walker didn’t answer, looking at his phone and tapping on it, instead.

  “Right. That’s ready and programed. It will be waiting for you by the stairs. Don’t pack or take anything with you. We don’t have time. It’s the car without a driver. Clearly, sit in the front seat, behind the wheel. Otherwise the police will try to pull you over and you don’t have time for that right now.”

  That made sense. Not that the police could arrest him or anything. It was probably one of the good things about being him, to be honest.

  “Got it. I’ll go now.” He started to jog away, half hoping he was going to be called back, or told that someone else was supposed to go with him. That didn't happen. His Father did call out, at least.

  “Be careful! Remember, dying isn’t a winning strategy.”

  That was all he said. Waving over his shoulder, Connor let his feet make soft padding sounds on the carpet. When he hit the stairs he ran full out, even if he wasn’t certain what was going on.

  There really was a car waiting for him, however. As he climbed into the thing, it occurred to him that a robot car might just drive him off a bridge, to his death. No one would have to shoot him or anything, that way.

  “Um, hello. I’m Connor Harriman.” If he
was supposed to do anything in particular he didn't know about it.

  After a moment, the small blue car, which had a wheel in the driver’s seat area, spoke to him.

  “Please buckle your seat belt, passenger. The primary destination will be reached in forty-seven minutes after that happens.”

  He hurried, in case the plan wasn’t just to drive him to his death. Then again, Bennet hadn’t lied to him, and neither had anyone else. If it was a trick, then they didn't know about it, which was nice, really. If it was a betrayal, no one he knew personally was in on it.

  “Buckled up!”

  “Very good, passenger. We will now commence.”

  The driver, which he guessed was the car itself, didn’t speak to him that often. It wasn’t until nearly forty minutes later than an explanation came at all.

  “Destination in seven minutes. It will be on the left.”

  That, it turned out was a rather ugly gray plane. A thing that he doubted would be able to fly to Australia. Not without refueling several times. It was large and clunky looking, instead of being streamlined and jet like.

  Still, when the car stopped, a familiar face showed up at the top of the stairs. That was actually a truck, with moveable stairs on the back. At the top, standing with her back to the light coming from inside, was Bennet.

  His boss.

  She still looked decently cute. Enough that Connor wondered if she’d be willing to have sex with him. The only thing stopping him was that he didn't want that, him asking for things like that, to be what got him killed. It was pretty certain she was allowed to order that kind of thing if he got too difficult to be worth working with.

  “Mr. Harriman, this way. Hurry, we don’t have much time to put your skills into play. We need to get the subjects back, quickly. There’s going to be distortion with this one. We can’t help that, this time.”

  He jogged up the stairs, the metal making clanking noises as he hurried. At the top, Bennet floated back, not allowing contact. It was smart of her. She smiled at him, her lips moving, while her eyes didn’t.

  “We have the situation in Australia taken care of, for the time being. We need you to go and question the hostage takers, before sending them back in. This way. The teleportation unit in the back will get you there. I’ll send you, then follow along in one minute. No one will meet you on the other side. You’re in charge of questioning.”

  That didn’t make sense and probably meant that he was going to be shot first thing.

  “Got it. I just…” He had no clue what to do then.

  Bennet waved him along.

  “Walk. Down the aisle. There will be a purple flash. Wait, on the other end.”

  It was tempting to run, but he didn't, since that wasn’t the job at hand. He’d been instructed to walk, so he did. The plane was empty inside, past the four seats. It didn’t look like there was any sort of magical teleportation machine or anything, either.

  A little over halfway back, the room flashed. Purple as had been said. After he glanced around, his eyes clearing, it was clear that he hadn’t been told the truth, exactly.

  After all, there were other people in the room with him. Bennet had suggested otherwise. There were four of them, tied, naked, to chairs. With rope. Things that looked tighter than could be comfortable. At least the wrists and ankles looked to have white marks on the skin, under the decently bright overhead lights. The rest of the room, a large space, looked to be in shadow. The whole thing was freaking eerie.

  The first thing anyone said to him was half yelled. Rudely, which seemed a bit unneeded, as far as Connor was concerned.

  “I’ll fucking kill you. All of you!” That came from one of the two naked men in the middle of the large room Connor was in. From behind him, there was another flash. It was a pretty purple as well. Brighter than he would have thought when he’d gone through it.

  Helpfully, the man in the chair repeated his line again, so Bennet could hear all about it.

  She stayed back.

  “I think not. We don’t have time for that, this evening. Connor, drain them, please.”

  Moving in, he tried to do exactly that. It didn’t take long at all, even though each of them had to be done separately.

  Chapter nine

  The questioning was a bit more interesting this time, since the victims of Connor’s field of effect all understood they were going to die. For their god, as the case turned out to be. They were rather pale, as a group, the two women seeming to be in charge of the initial idea, even if it was the largest man who’d started with the yelling and name calling.

  “Fuck you! Allah ak-” Connor had moved to touch one of the women, who was nude and unshaved, all over her body.

  She also had interestingly bright hair, on her head. Uncovered, though that really could have been about the fact that whoever had put them in the large warehouse room in the first place had taken their demure headscarves or tent like outer clothing. Even at Etain they’d been taught about Islam and how it wasn’t just one thing. It wasn’t a race at all, so that these men and women had light hair and eyes wasn’t impossible at all. A lot of Muslims had that going on.

  Looking at the situation, Connor had to think for a second. The yelling man was being annoying, and might make it hard to hear if he was taken out of the control of being touched. On the other hand, even he had admitted that the woman sitting on the end, Debbie, was the leader of their little terror cell.

  Bennet was standing back a good way, simply watching him work. The only rule having been given so far was that all of the people needed to be left alive, so that they could be returned to the scene of the kidnapping before the police rushed in. A thing that would happen in twenty minutes, give or take. That spoke of time travel being used. Connor thought it might be that kind of thing, anyway.

  Simply telling him to stop yelling would work, as long as Connor held on to the man. Fifteen seconds after he let go, the noise would begin again, however. It was, he decided, more than a little annoying.

  “Are you sure we need this one alive?” Shaking his head, there was no waiting for Bennet to speak and remind him that, yes, there was indeed a real plan in place. “Fine then. Debbie why don’t you tell us all about who you work for and what you have planned?” He nearly added a thank you to the end of the sentence, having had years of being drilled on the importance of being polite to strangers.

  The blue and red haired, rather well pierced and sparkling faced woman answered, of course. She was about seven feet away, but well close enough to be compelled to be truthful with him.

  When the others had been addressed, each of them being touched, they’d announced that Debbie was the one in charge. Loudmouthed guy had sort of hinted that he was working directly for Allah, though did allow that the dreams he’d had may just be dreams and not special messages at all. The other guy, Kev, was just in it for the pussy, or so he’d said. Being that he wasn’t all that good looking, being scrawny and a little asymmetrical through the face, it was probably about the best plan for that.

  At least both he and the other woman, Darna, had stated that they were both having sex regularly. Darna was with about half a dozen other guys in their unit as well, but the mousy blonde was doing her part with Kev, too. That was respectable enough, so Connor had just nodded on hearing the news.

  Debbie looked over at Connor and locked her lips tight. It was nearly goofy looking, since the woman clearly wanted to tell him everything. She even made muffled speaking sounds, her lips going white to match her bugged out eyes. That was just surprise though.

  Sighing, getting that he was going to need physical contact to push the woman into speaking openly, Connor moved to her and placed his right hand on her naked right shoulder. She was nice looking enough. Her nipples were pink, and her breasts were small and tight, being pushed up nicely by the ropes around her middle. It was enough that he wanted to sigh again, though he didn’t bother. Instead of seeming shocked at the contact, which she shouldn’t be, havin
g seen the exact same trick with the rest of her people already, she went slack jawed. Then she started talking as soon as he asked the question again.

  Ali, the loudmouth in the middle, who was actually named Thomas, or at least had been by his parents, started to try and yell again. At first. Until Deb, his erstwhile leader, began to speak the truth.

  “I work for the C.I.A. My name is Eve Collins, I’m a field agent. The goal here tonight was to kill at least one hundred good Australian citizens, using the others here as patsies. The reason for it is distraction from what’s going on in the elections coming in the States. We plan to rig it, in order to put a puppet in place as President and to seed the House and Senate at the same time. Similar operations to this will be going on in seven different countries inside the next two weeks. We want to increase fear without directly threatening our own people. Not until just before the elections. That kind of terror always pushes voters to the right, which we can control for. We have the people under our control in place to run, already.”

  Ali, if he wanted to be called that still, looked over at his friend, his mouth gaping widely. Bennet cleared her throat.

  “Thomas, you might not want to do that, once you get into lockup. It might be taken as an invitation. In fact, I know it will be, since I’ll spread the word for you. You shouldn’t have been rude earlier. We have what we need for now, Mr. Harriman. Very well done. Our agents will return them to the appropriate position in time and space as soon as we leave.” Almost slyly, the older woman turned to him, her face being held in a smile that was a good bit creepier than anything he’d noticed from her before. “What do you think, should we allow them to kill the innocents in that night club or not?”

  His hand was still on the naked C.I.A. agent’s shoulder, meaning she wasn’t going to recall anything he said. The others would however, which might just get in the way of the current plans. Plus, they hadn’t covered how Eve Collins planned to escape.

  That they were on a time schedule was a thing though, so he didn’t bother finding out. Really, it probably didn't matter as much as knowing who was behind the whole thing in the first place. They even had a version of why. At least the one they were telling people at Eve’s level, which might not be the real answer. After all, she cracked instantly when captured. If that was even a remote possibility, then not telling the men and women on the ground all about the real plans would be wise.