His assiduity could easily have been credited to the photograph of the actress Jennifer Lawrence, looking stunning in a white dress with its plunging neck line and who was out walking a red carpet promoting her latest movie. But in actuality, it was the headline to the left of that image; the mere mention of a certain diamond that got him salivating.
“Why do you keep on teasing me like this,” he whispered, sighing. “The one that got away...”
A photograph of the Whisper of Persia placed upon a velvet cushion involuntarily excited the former marine. Quickly he scanned the accompanying report, gleaning as much information as he could, his mood darkening as he read of its recent history, a turbulent past that had indirectly involved him. His heart quickened a pace as he learnt of the plans for its future.
“A gem such as this cannot be kept under lock and key,” said the diamond’s current owner, an eccentric Viscount of Great Britain, eighteenth richest man in the land. “It would be folly to deprive the nation because of the act of one villainous person,” continued the Viscount who also happened to be a celebrated horticulturist, often appearing in the media, brushing shoulders with the rich and famous.
“Yes, it so would,” agreed Dominic. And depriving me the chance of getting my hands on you too... He further scanned the article, learning that the reason for the Whisper of Persia’s mention was owed completely to the Viscount’s decision to put the diamond on display at Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh, the Queen’s official Scottish residence.
“Besides, they had a heart and returned it. No harm no foul,” the rich fool had gone on, adding clarity: “So, with that spirit I thought: what better place is there to exhibit one of the finest stones in the world, than at one of the finest palaces ever built. Besides, there’s no better security to be had in the country...” The article further mentioned that the Viscount was loaning the diamond for exhibition for the next twelve months, after which it would be placed in a bank vault for its future protection.
“That almost sounds like a challenge,” said Dominic fervently, his heart beginning to race in tandem with his growing excitement. He looked across the room in the direction of the compound where he knew the sons of GYGES were gathered, and started to wonder. He dismissed the thought from his head. “Not yet. Soon...” he placated himself. “Very soon.”
As the training of the ninety boys was being overseen by Malaxi Bacaunawa, Dominic had very little to do with them, except to gather progress updates on a regular basis, and start plotting on how best to use them. Most of his time was spent drinking cups of coffee or putting himself through vigorous exercise programmes involving stints in the gym, on the squash court and in the swimming pool, all in addition to the early morning jogs along the coast. Some people obsessed over fitness, the endorphins released from exercise akin to an intoxicating drug almost bordering an addiction.
But not to Dom.
The only reason for spending three hours in the gym every day and undertaking all other sporting exertions was to see the waistline of his trousers return to size thirty-four-inches.
Whilst on the Life Fitness elliptical trainer − a smooth cardiovascular machine designed to emulate cross-country skiing and which promised an ‘all-body workout’ − Dominic heard the trill of his mobile phone, the ringtone identified within the settings list as ‘Leisure Time’. He stopped pumping the handles on the training machine and ceased moving his legs in the simulated step and glide motions.
Below and to either side of the LCD interface panel were two cup holders. In one was a sports drinks’ bottle, an orange liquid sloshing back and forth from Dominic’s frenetic arm and leg movements; the other held his ringing phone.
“He-llo...” he was out of breath.
“Dom?”
“Jennifer.” Dominic uttered it breathily. He stepped off the cross-trainer and reached for a hand towel, quickly wiping sweat away from his face with it. After, he draped it around the back of his neck. It felt warm and damp, but he hardly noticed it. “Hadn’t you agreed not to be in touch until the media had died down?” he didn’t wait for a response. “Glad you’ve called though... where are my data implant training programs?” It had been a couple of days since he’d requested the encrypted programmes from the CEO of Kaplan Ratcliff. So far he was yet to receive them.
Jennifer Ratcliff disregarded Dominic’s comment. “I thought you ought to know that Emily Porter knows of our tête-à-tête and Ryan’s complicity.”
“What?” Dominic walked across the gym to a machine well-stocked with health food bars and energy drinks. He pressed a button selecting a Fuelmax fruit and cereal carbohydrate bar. Containing 141mg of caffeine and 30.8g of carbohydrate, the energy bar fell with a heavy clatter to the dispensing tray, a reassuring sound that indicated his hunger would soon be abated. He scooped it up, propped his phone between the side of his face and his shoulder and tore open the packaging.
“The wannabe-spy bugged Ryan’s office and overheard a conversation between us. Now she knows...”
“But not where we are?” Sounding unconcerned Dominic took a large bite from the cereal bar and started chewing it noisily.
“No... not where we are; not even Ryan knows that,” she confirmed, “but, it’s just a matter of time before our other friend finds out what they do know.”
“You mean Sophie?” It came out garbled, surrounded by food.
“Yes, you know who I mean.”
“But why should we care? She’s no longer necessary to our plans... we have ninety kids like her.” Or WILL be like her if I ever get my data implant training programs, he thought.
“You’re forgetting how bloody righteous she is. Do you think she will be best pleased to know that you’ve taken those boys to use for your own purpose? You’re also forgetting that there’s unfinished business between the two of you.” Jennifer was referring once again to the fact that Dominic had killed Sophie’s mother.
“Old news... she had many an opportunity to kill me whilst in America,” he dismissed the woman’s concern. “What about Ryan? Isn’t he able to keep this contained? After all, he was all in favour of us taking the kids.”
“For his own reasons, yes. But Ryan isn’t Sophie’s favourite person right now. She thinks he ordered the hit on her father...”
Dominic started to laugh. “She must be finding it hard knowing who she can and can’t trust,” he continued smiling to himself.
“Which makes her even more dangerous in my opinion,” replied Jennifer humourlessly.
Dominic took another bite from the Fuelmax bar. “Wha’ d’you wan’ me ta-do abou’ it?”
Jennifer’s disgust could be heard down the phone by way of an audible ‘tut’. “I want you and the agents seconded to you on standby. You’re going to have to be ready to get your hands dirty, I’m afraid.”
Dominic was no longer smiling. “How dirty?”
Jennifer took a long pause. “Oh, you know... Harriet Jennings dirty,” she said gravely.
He grunted. “You want me to kill her?”
“Dear boy, I don’t think you are capable,” she scoffed. “No. But there are other ways to tame a wild animal. Sometimes you just need to know how to push all the right buttons. What do you perceive to be her greatest weakness?”
“Her family,” guessed Dominic without hesitation, seeing exactly where Jennifer was angling at.
“But, hopefully it won’t come to that,” she said optimistically.
“Okay, I hear you. First, be quicker getting me what I want and maybe then I’ll consider whatever it is you require of me.”
“Sounds only fair,” replied Jennifer incisively. “You’ll have your data files by the end of today.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Emily
“You shouldn’t be here. It’s not...”
“Safe?” ventured
Sophie, stepping well to the side to allow Emily into the apartment so as to avoid colliding, despite the fact Emily had come prepared and was wearing thermal glasses, enabling her to see through the young woman’s invisibility. “I know.”
“I was going to say pleasant.” Emily carried a folded umbrella which was dripping rain water − which she stowed in a bucket near to the entrance door (where one other was standing to attention) − and a shoulder bag large enough to carry a laptop. She surveyed Sophie’s former home, her attention focusing on the destruction and disarray of the living room ahead of her, the door held open by a book wedged beneath it, Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code she noticed. She wrinkled her nose at the havoc surrounding her, slightly repugnant. Initially her judgement had been formed outside, viewing the boarded up facade and the graffiti gracing it with disdain, but the sight of bullet holes marring the walls and ceiling, and the shredded, devastated furniture added weight to her aversion. “How long have you been back?”
Sophie closed the front door and led the MI6 analyst into the living room. Despite the destruction, she had tidied an area of the room so that it was habitable. The dining table and chairs were relatively unscathed, and the carpeted floor around it had been swept and vacuumed clean.
“I got back almost two days ago, but was so tired... I’ve been sleeping.” Sophie replied, her tone defensive. “Come in. Please forgive the mess...”
Mess was an understatement. “You should’ve called, I could’ve helped.” Emily followed Sophie through to the living room and sat down at a place set aside for her at the table. She removed the thermal glasses, laying them nearby. In their place she slipped her spectacles on to see better.
The table had a few small items placed upon it, but the surface was mostly sparse and tidy.
“Can I get you something?” asked Sophie, acting the host.
“Tea would be nice,” suggested Emily in the direction she’d heard Sophie’s voice.
“Um... totally out of tea.”
“Coffee?” ventured Emily hopefully. She stood by the dining table waiting for permission to sit.
“There’s water... I’ve not had chance to go shopping since being back.” Sophie entered the kitchen, ran the cold tap and filled two glasses with water. A moment later the two glasses of water, as if by magic, appeared on the table.
Emily gasped. She had forgotten that everything Sophie wore or carried became absorbed by the same component of camouflage that she was genetically enhanced with, and without the thermal glasses on, she hadn’t seen Sophie come in carrying the two drinks.
“What about food, have you eaten?” Listen to you. When did you turn into your own mother? Emily mentally rebuked herself.
“Yes... once,” Sophie laughed.
“Okay, let me order in...”
As quickly as it had started, Sophie’s laughter stopped. “After.” She spoke firmly. Although ravenous, she needed to do something important first. “I need to know what this all means.” Though unseen, Sophie gestured with her hands towards the items on the table. The small bottle of blue liquid stood out foremost. To either side of it were the thumb drive and the photograph of George, his arm around the younger woman. These were all the items her father (excepting the gun which she had left with Barry) had left for her.
“Are these...?”
“Yes,” replied Sophie, not needing to hear the full question. “My father’s last will was for me to find that locker in Fresno Airport where he had placed these items... for me.”
Emily picked up the photograph. She recognised the young woman that George’s arm was draped around. Seeing her brought a lump to the throat and a tear to her eye. Her spectacles misted up slightly, requiring her to remove them to wipe clear.
“You knew her?”
“Of course... that’s Clara. Your biological mother.” Emily replaced her spectacles and studied the photograph some more. “She looks so happy... and weirdly close to your father.” Turning the picture over, Emily noticed the address scrawled across the back.
Norská 561/10, 101 00 Praha, Czech Republic.
“Do you know what this is?” Emily asked curiously.
Unseen, Sophie shook her head. “I don’t think it’s important, not at the moment,” being dismissive. “What I do want to know is what’s on the thumb drive... And, whether it’s safe for me to drink the thing that looks like smurf pee.”
Emily returned the photo of George and Clara back to the table and swept up the small vial of blue liquid. The slip of paper George had attached with a red rubber band was still in place. She pulled it free and carefully opened it out, seeing the words in the same writing as used to scrawl out the address on the photograph.
A remedy to your predicament... drink me!
Emily looked up to where she knew Sophie was sitting. “What’s stopping you from drinking it?” she asked earnestly.
“I don’t know whether I should. What predicament is he implying? Is it the fact that I have run out of serum? Or could it be referring to the whole invisibility thing? What will be the outcome to me drinking it?”
“I couldn’t know,” answered Emily solemnly. “I guess there’s only one way to find out...”
The laptop was powered up and Emily had inserted the thumb drive into the slot in the side of the Lenovo machine. Five seconds later and she was presented with a list of options, specifically on what next to do. She selected ‘folder open’ and almost immediately was presented with a list of files. The topmost one was an AVI file, which Emily knew just by the initialism was a video file (audio video interleave).
“Here... maybe this will help.” Emily twisted the laptop around so that Sophie could see, and selected the file, pressing the enter key.
The LCD monitor flickered a few times before presenting a video playback screen which filled the entire area, corner to corner. A play/pause bar appeared at the bottom indicating the file’s length was four minutes and twenty seconds, and the video started to run.
George Jennings stepped into view from the right side of the picture, likely having just switched the camera on. He was wearing a white lab-coat and mad, dishevelled hair. He sat down on a swivel chair and looked towards them, his eyes piercing blue, just like his daughter’s.
“Hello Sophie,” he started cheerily. “I guess, if you’re watching this, things have gone bad and are beyond my control. Most likely I am dead... or will be soon.” He looked down gravely towards his hands clasped together, as though coming to terms with the situation for the first time. A moment later he returned eye contact. “I’m sorry about all this Sophie, none of this is what I wanted. By now I guess, you’ve learnt that I’m not who I said I was; that I was working covertly for the American government, and that my job was not only to genetically engineer a super soldier − you −, but it was to take the research and give it to my employers, sadly destroying the evidence and all avenues that could lead to replicating my work, behind me. Regretfully, I complied with most of this which makes me a terrible man, but I couldn’t give you up, Sophie. And it was a condition, for me to continue with my work on the project that you, Meredith, your brothers and your mother, all remain safe. To this end, I’ve only had assurances that this is the case. I hope to God that it is so.
“But I digress. You will notice that in the envelope you found this thumb drive,” George held up the digital device which, paradoxically, felt impossible to be playing back the same message. “You also found a photograph and my gift, a small bottle of liquid with a note attached urging you to ‘drink it’. Knowing you Sophie, you haven’t yet drunk it,” he started to grin, “but rest assured it’s perfectly safe and completely innocuous. By my reckoning, you would have run out of ‘B-twenty-one-L-eight’, or what you and I simply called your ‘meds’. I bet you are now roaming the earth like a ghost and invisible to all, except for thermal glasses... an
d of course in reflective surfaces − I never could work that out. Anyway, this is not the existence I ever wanted for you my love... so, covertly, I’ve designed an antidote especially, and only for you.” From a table behind him, George reached for a small item hidden from view. When he turned back round his hand was wrapped around the centre of a vial of blue liquid. The same vial which was now placed in the centre of the dining table.
“I wish I could’ve tested it more thoroughly,” George began saying, “but I simply ran out of time. Don’t worry, it’s fine... and no animals died making it! You will, however, need to get used to the modification as you won’t be requiring the injections any more. I’m sure that’ll please you! Plus, the changes it will make to your DNA, they’re irreversible, which means nothing can ever be done to change it... so, if you were ever hoping for a cure... I’m sorry... it’s not going to happen. Nothing can ever take your gift away.” Sophie’s father leaned forward, very serious-looking. “Remember that,” he said, adding emphasis to those two words.
“Skipping on, time is of the essence and all. I’m guessing that you will know that I have been coerced into creating an army of genetically enhanced soldiers for the Americans. They are just like you, Sophie, but without a conscience... or are GOING to be without a conscience. I built in a slight inhibitor. As they age, emotional feelings gradually dissipate until the host is fully matured. They will know no boundaries and feel no limitations once that happens, which simply means they will be fearless and all but unstoppable.
“On the thumb drive you will also find a number of files. One is the location and schematics of the American base under which my laboratory is based, where you will find the soldiers of GYGES... the project which I had no choice but to orchestrate. I need you to go there and destroy all my work; it’s not going to be easy, but it needs to be done.”
The Whisper of Persia (The Girl in the Mirror Book 3) Page 18