The Citizens parted before me, heads still down over their vid-screens, but surreptitious looks at the Elite in their midst causing them to slow their robotic walk.
I was a stranger here even before I'd donned my disguise.
I'd be just as much a stranger when I arrived at The Quay Resort.
My resolve settled like a cloak around me. Things had to change. What one wore or how one moved should not define who they were. Elite, Citizen, or Cardinal. We were all the same. All one people. One nation.
One Wánměi was on my mind as I hailed a limousine. It was on my mind as it pulled away from Park Road and headed off down larger Grafton Road.
But the moment The Quay Resort came into view before me, the impossibly tall towers that made up the base, the incredibly precarious looking SkyPark cantilevered across the very top of the magnificent structure, all revolutionary thoughts escaped me.
I had a job to do. Something to pit my skills against. A thrill, a dance, an escape.
The forbidden.
The danger.
The test.
This was what I had lived for. For so long now, this had been me. Even if I didn't know what I was becoming, Citizen or Elite, I knew this.
I stepped out of the limousine, head high, shoulders back, and smiled as I walked through the doors into an opulence many rarely got to see.
Chapter 23
Not A Care To Be Seen
Trent
"Quay Resort," Si said into my earpiece. "She's heading up Quay Street. Slowing outside the resort."
"Are you sure?" I asked, looking down in dismay at what I was wearing.
I'd changed as soon as we saw Lena leave Harjeet's stall dressed as an Honourable; not just any Elite, but those of the upper echelons. Dressed as Selena Carstairs would have been. But I wasn't sure that what I had on would stand up to Wánměi's premier resort's standards.
What the fuck was Lena playing at? I didn't have an answer. But the brown wig on her head gave me hope she wasn't surrendering to Chew-wen. If she'd bothered to disguise her zebra-like hair, then she didn't want to be recognised.
Of course, the fact that she had managed to obtain the outfit, along with the expensive jewellery that glinted in the noon day sun, meant she'd undoubtedly had help.
Harjeet Kandiyar kind of help.
A knot had fisted in my stomach. It tightened now, as Alan and I followed behind her limousine and then passed it when it pulled into the grand portico outside the building.
"What do you want to do?" Alan asked, parking further along the street where we could still see Lena emerging from her vehicle, a serene smile adorning her features.
I felt like I didn't even know her.
I watched, utterly flummoxed, as she walked under the dazzling lights and glided through the doors out of sight. The doorman-slash-security-guard tipped his hat, greeting her with utmost reverence. Just as she deserved.
Had she missed this so much she needed to return? We hardly offered a lifestyle an Elite would feel comfortable in. Her room, the one I'd just spent several long fantasy induced minutes inside, wasn't much on luxuries. The Quay Resort, on the other hand, definitely was.
"Boss?" Alan pushed.
"What's her GPS tracker show?" I asked. Simon had placed tracking devices on all her gear before she'd made it to the tech room. The fact I'd been wearing an earpiece when I ridiculously tried to seduce her was an embarrassment, but also a saving grace. Because I was able to give Simon the heads-up. And then get myself out of her room once she'd left Si's side.
"Rising up the floors. Fast," he replied. "I'd say in an elevator."
"Tell me when she stops," I ordered, moving over to the wardrobe we had hanging in the back of the van and flicking items aside until I came to a dinner jacket. I was wearing appropriate Elite clothing, but where Lena was going, I'd need to wear more.
"You want me in there with you?" Alan asked.
"Not up the top, if that's where she's heading. Stay near one of the casinos, ready to move if I need you."
He nodded his head, but didn't make an effort to change his clothes. He was Elite adorned too, enough to enter the lower levels. But if he went higher, he'd adapt. Steal a jacket on the fly, use the maintenance or staff access. Stay in the shadows.
I wasn't sure if that option was going to be available for me, so dinner suit and gold cuff-links it was.
"How do I look?" I asked, fussing with the collar.
Alan snorted. "Like a fucking penguin." He reached out with new contact lenses, placing them in my outstretched hand. I slipped them in, blinking to adjust the foreign objects, hating their necessity, but long ago having become resigned.
"Si?" I asked into the van.
"The SkyPark. She's gone right to the top, boss."
What the fuck was she up to?
"OK, let's do this," I said, moving to the door of the van. "Silence unless absolutely necessary. God knows what tech they have in this place."
"Which makes you wonder what Lena wants in there," Si threw in, making me pause.
Was this a heist? Was she after more than just the Elite experience?
I shook my head and slipped into the heat of an early afternoon sun, then ducked under the over large portico that covered most of this side of tower two. Copious idling car engines made the shaded area just as hot as further out in the direct sunlight had been. Just because they were electric didn't mean they didn't overheat.
The concentrated chemical smell of electrical engineering left an unusual taint on the air. I held my breath for more than one reason. But as the guards on the door just nodded in greeting, released it as I strode into my form of pure hell.
Marble flooring stretched for what seemed kilometres, lights dazzled, colourful people milled; scarlets and golds, azures and limes and tangerines. A veritable smorgasbord of fashion and couture. Lena would still have stood out, even though the outfit she wore was understated in creams and navy blues, the heels on her feet had made her legs appear a mile long and those red lips. Fuck me, every man in here would have turned to take a look.
Me, though, I could blend in. Neither overdressed nor underdressed. An Elite in amongst a throng of Elites. Who knew there were so many.
Then I paused, midway across the vast expanse of the lobby, as I realised what it was I'd at first missed. So used to seeing the colour combination on Lena, I hadn't thought twice, until I started trying to futilely see her in every face, but knowing she was already fifty-five storeys up.
White and black hair. Not as many as you see on a Citizen street nowadays, but enough to make me smile.
Bloody hell, she'd even captured the hearts of these Honourable women, who shouldn't have more to concern themselves with, other than their next soiree. But here they were donning the latest fashion, which also happened to be a political statement to boot.
I snorted out a laugh, which I had to stifle pretty fucking quickly when it garnered attention, and slipped into a waiting lift.
The entire ride up, soft music playing, cameras trying to iRec us as we pretended to be calm despite the rapid assent making our stomachs fall out from beneath us, I smiled. Damn, the woman certainly knew how to leave a mark.
But as I stepped out onto the lush oasis, that is the two-hundred metre high SkyPark, my smile slipped. I spotted her immediately, drawn to her like a moth to a naked flame. A weak-willed moth to a vibrantly burning flame. One which you knew would surely kill you.
She was sitting in the shade of a palm tree, leaning back in her chair and watching the world from on high. Not a care to be seen. As though this was a perfectly normal thing for her to be doing. And fuck, it probably had been. Before she became an obsession of the Chief Overseer that is.
What the hell was Lena playing at sipping tea so casually at the top of our world?
God knows, but I was determined to find out.
Chapter 24
Shall We?
Lena
An Honourable eating alone was unu
sual enough to attract attention. Until they made eye contact and were forced to look away. Frost coated my heart, bled from my eyes. I was the epitome of superior Elite.
And I hated it. Even as I knew I had a job to do; a job that would make me feel alive.
I'd been here for over three hours already. Consumed copious cups of tea and several small beautifully adorned cupcakes; their decorations so lifelike I hesitated before biting into the first one. But still I hadn't found my mark.
I was working on a finite timeline. With curfew tonight, I couldn't stay in the open. I considered booking into a room in the hotel to give me more time, but returning to the base was the ultimate goal. Trent would be suspecting something by now. I needed to minimise the fallout, even if I wasn't successful today.
No, what I really needed was a guest residing on the penthouse floor to entertain the idea of high tea in the SkyPark. They'd had three hours already to turn up. There was now less than one left. I'd allowed myself until four to get what I needed here, but if it failed, I did have a Plan B.
Not that Plan B had any significant chance of success. Decoding the security locks on the penthouse floor would carry unseen hazards I wasn't entirely confident I could combat alone.
Not for the first time I wondered where Tan was.
But, if I could steal an access card, and slip into the penthouse floor before the guest was alerted to the theft, then half the battle would be won.
Almost four hours of blistering heat, noisy poolside revellers, way too much sugar and now cold tea for half the battle. But it was, perhaps, the hardest part.
I pulled out my cellphone and scanned The Wánměi Times article I'd left open. The hotel guest residing in The Chairman Suite was an Overseer. One Jeffrey Markham. I wasn't personally acquainted with Overseer Markham, but I knew of him. Not an immediate associate to General Chew-wen's, but perhaps, considering his younger age, a friend now to Wang Chao.
He appeared Elite through and through, according to the gossip column I was reading. Spent most of his time working at the Palace, socialising at private functions, or playing on the high stakes tables in the casinos - behind the strictest of securities.
His wife, on the other hand, was often seen entertaining friends for high tea.
I adjusted my bionic-ear amplifier and scanned the conversations throughout the SkyPark for anything I could use. Normally, on a job like this, I would not be working alone. In the past, Tan and Aiko had acted as decoys or an extra pair of eyes tracking my mark. At the very least, I would have familiarised myself with Lady Markham's routine, to ensure the best possible success of today's heist.
The actual theft would be carried out by me alone. But the background work and additional surveillance would have been covered by my team.
But my team now consisted of... Well, not two, because Tan hadn't spoken to me in days. So, just me. Because bringing Trent and the rebels into this would have lost me my prize. Harjeet's rules. Besides, the jury was most definitely out on whether Trent could be trusted.
He clearly didn't trust me.
Frustration made me miss her arrival. Too busy frowning at the memory of what Trent had done. Too busy contemplating my limited options as far as the rebels went. I needed them as much as they needed me. But I wasn't sure if they realised that fact.
I looked up from my vid-screen and narrowed in on Lady Markham's posse of Honourables. All dressed in the latest fashions. Bright luxuriant materials reminiscent of the most glorious sunsets; burnt oranges, glowing yellows, vibrant reds. Against the lush greenery in the SkyPark they stood out, but not for their colour choice alone.
They had guards. Two of them. Black clad, suit wearing, sunglasses toting, muscle-men. Packing, at a guess, laser guns, tasers, and batons.
I let a slow breath of air out and contemplated Plan B. It appeared the Overseers had upped their security. At least they weren't drones. But they weren't Cardinals either, which made me wonder if there was some dissension amongst the upper echelons of our society. An Overseer's family could easily afford Cardinal protection. They were our royalty. They deserved the best.
But if Jeffrey Markham had decided the Cardinals couldn't be trusted, he'd want his wife protected by someone else. Private security was not uncommon in Wánměi, for the ordinary Elite. If you can call an Elite ordinary, that is.
Interesting. But not helpful to my current dilemma.
I observed unobtrusively for several minutes as the women made themselves comfortable and ordered their high tea. The guards stood stoically at their backs, further into the shade making them harder to detect from afar.
I wasn't so far away I couldn't see their heads turning at any slight movement on the SkyPark deck, nor so far away I couldn't see their earpieces in-situ or the bulge of their weapons beneath the line of their suits. But far enough away to need my bionic-ear to hear the ladies conversation.
Vapid nonsense. Nothing of consequence. The most important thing in Lady Markham's day was what she'd be wearing tonight for dinner.
I checked my watch. Five minutes to four. Well, my mark had made it in time, but I didn't have much left to carry out the actual heist. Or heists, as the case may be.
I needed her keycard. I needed access onto the penthouse floor. And entry into the suite she shared with her husband. And I needed it now.
I drew in a steady, deep breath of air, and stood up from my chair. My dress fell in waves of immaculate material; not a crease to be seen. Whatever it was made of, it was perfect for surveillance work. Four hours sitting here in the heat of a Wánměi afternoon and you could barely tell. I lifted my vid-screen up in front of me, effecting an excellent and model non-observant walk. Head down, eyes on my cellphone, not paying attention to my surroundings at all.
And timed my pass of Lady Markham's table to perfection.
The waiter bringing two three-tiered stands full of delectable and superbly decorated cakes and sweets had just placed them on the table, turning at the exact moment the second waiter approached with the silver tray carrying delicate porcelain tea cups, milk, honey and sugar. They danced apart, a third waiter standing to the side with the steaming tea pot and a jug of hot water, well out of the real danger zone.
But the danger was the small space the first two waiters were occupying, and the guest with her head down over her vid-screen unaware - for all intents and purposes - of what she'd just walked into the middle of.
The first waiter stepped back too far, too close to the edge of the pool. The second, still holding the tea cups, milk, honey and sugar, flailed to assist him before he toppled. The third made a yelping sound and hurriedly retreated. But I didn't need, nor want, boiling liquid to douse Lady Markham.
Milk and honey were quite good enough.
Shrill female cries of dismay and alarm rose up on the air, causing every single Elite in the SkyPark to turn and stare. The waiters shouted warnings. The bodyguards lurched forward, attempting to take "the bullet" for their employer.
And I nudged the honey pot towards Lady Markham's lap with a well placed elbow, as my hand flew to my mouth, covering it with a suitable display of shock.
"Oh, my goodness!" I cried. Then spun on the waiter and offered my most Elite glare. "Have care, sir! The lady's dress is quite ruined now. This is most unlike The Quay!"
"Not at all model," one of the women accompanying Lady Markham declared.
"Indeed," I acknowledged. "Quickly now. Go fetch the Honourable something to clean this up." The waiters scattered, clearing a path. I turned back to Lady Markham and delicately frowned at the mess in her lap. "Oh, no. This will not do. Let me help you, my dear. The bathrooms have excellent facilities here."
Stunned, and quite apparently mortified, Lady Markham said in a quivering voice, "No need, Honourable. I'm sure I can make it to our suite in order to change."
But that wouldn't do at all.
"And ruin your afternoon because of a Citizen's mistake?" I asked, mortified myself at the elite condescension rol
ling off my tongue.
This was the world I had traversed. Not exactly willingly, but without much objection either. Other than my escapes.
"She is right, Melanie," one of the women at the table offered. "You must behave accordingly."
"A model Elite," another chimed in.
"Do not show your distress. Chin up," the last added, and I had to hide my scowl of distaste.
Lady Markham nodded her head slowly in agreement. "You are all very right, of course. I shall clean up in the ladies' toilette." She lifted round, watery blue eyes to my face. "Thank you, Honourable. For your guidance on this most unpleasant event. But I am sure you have places to go. I shall be fine with my friends."
"Nonsense," I said breezily. "I have honey all over me as well. We are two sticky bees together. We shall stick together," I announced, receiving inane giggles from the rest of the women. "Why don't you ladies relax and follow up with those waiters; someone needs to ensure model behaviour is upheld," I suggested. They all nodded agreement readily, as expected.
"Come, my dear," I said offering an arm to Lady Markham. "If we hurry, you'll be back in time for the fireworks."
For a second I thought she wouldn't accept the offer. I was a stranger, and the reason why she was leaving the SkyPark in shame. But like with all things Elite my father had taught me, belief in one's superiority was paramount to success. I didn't give her a moment longer to contemplate the inappropriateness of the situation. I acted as though it was her only choice. Picking up her handbag, smiling to her friends, and leading her by the arm towards the bathrooms.
The guards slipped in behind us without a word. I let a slow breath out in relief. Even they had fallen for my ruse.
At the door to the ladies toilets I turned and offered a haughty glare to both muscle clad men.
"I'm afraid, gentlemen, but you cannot accompany us inside. It would not be proper."
"Oh, no," Lady Markham agreed. "Not on this."
Both guards stiffened, looked toward each other and then turned cool gazes back on me.
Cardinal, (Citizen Saga, Book 2) Page 14