Hybrid: A Shadowmark Origins Novel

by T. M. Catron

  “Just because I don’t want anyone scaring you off.” I smiled.

  “If I promise not to let anyone do that, will you let me see it?”

  I could barely be alone with Toral in the tiny hotel room she shared with her brother, and now I was taking her to my apartment? With Toral, I could not stop myself from making insane invitations. When she was around, all my good sense burned up like a meteor blazing through Earth’s atmosphere.

  “Charan definitely would not approve,” I said to stall for time.

  “Are you making excuses?”

  “Yes.”

  “Morse, I think you are afraid of me.”

  I pulled back, surprised. “Why?”

  She leaned over me, her hair falling around my shoulder. “Do you think I’m different from other women?”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. She was different from women like Armelle and half the women who worked on my floor. I leaned closer, ready to kiss her and tell her to go home.

  “Yes,” I said. “You are different.”

  She nodded and sat back with a smirk.

  “You are right. I am different.” She hopped down off the ledge and said, “I’m just curious, that’s all. Just take me back home, then.”

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward me, the battle over before it had begun. This time I kissed her like I wanted to—with our bodies close, and my arms around her waist. If she was surprised, Toral responded as though she’d been waiting for this move all week. Maybe she had been. I would have to punish myself again later.

  Later.

  But as I pulled Toral closer, she gasped and stepped back. I let her go. “What’s the matter?”

  She blinked several times and grabbed the ledge. “What was that?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “I saw… no, I felt… fear.”

  “Of what? Me?”

  “No. Not you. But it’s gone now.”

  “What’s gone now?”

  “I can’t describe it, never mind.”

  Maybe she’d never kissed anyone before. Wait—I’d kissed her. But not like that. Should I ask her?

  What am I doing?

  By this time, I was so confused that I didn’t even know how to read her anymore.

  “Do you always carry a gun, Morse?”

  Oh.

  “Yes. Is that what scared you? Maybe I’d better take you home.”

  “No, I’m fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect…” She leaned forward and kissed me again, this time while wrapping her arms around my waist. I put my hands in her hair, and she didn’t pull away until we both needed to breathe.

  “Mmmm. That was better,” she said.

  “You are safe, or didn’t you know?”

  We walked as far as Cour Carrée, then ordered a cab. I almost directed it to my apartment before I managed to pick up the fragments of my sanity and return Toral to her hotel instead. During the trip, she became increasingly quiet and glanced at me from time to time.

  “Did I do something to anger you?” I asked.

  “No. Why do you ask that?”

  “You seemed a bit distant.”

  The cab pulled up outside her hotel, and I walked Toral to the door.

  She turned to me. “I want you to come inside and speak with Charan.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

  “I want to explain something to you.”

  She didn’t sound like a person about to share something encouraging. A feeling of dread washed over me.

  “Alright,” I said.

  She unlocked the door and let me in.

  20

  Secret

  The room had completely changed. What had looked like a shabby hotel room shared by a brother and sister now looked like a setup for a clandestine operation. From the table to the bed and chairs, laptops and gear covered every surface. Three cameras with telephoto lenses sat on tripods. The bed was covered in printed maps of Europe and Asia.

  Toral closed the door with a snap and deadbolted it.

  I spun on my heel to face her.

  “What is all this?” I asked—like an idiot. In the same moment, I realized everything about these two was fake.

  A trap.

  I pulled out my gun and wheeled around just as Charan exited the bathroom.

  “Easy Morse,” he said, his hands half-raised. “Just let us explain.”

  I moved to where I could see both at the same time.

  “Are you sure, Toral?” Charan asked.

  “Yes, we need him.” In a second, her accent had changed from that of someone whose first language was Hindi to someone who spoke perfect English. London, maybe.

  “For what?” I asked, silently ticking through all the reasons why they would need me. There were many.

  Toral moved to sit on the edge of the bed and gestured to a chair. “Please.”

  It had all been a setup. From the very beginning.

  I felt as if Toral had dumped a bucket of ice on my head. One, it would be more pleasant than the feelings I was experiencing now. And two, it would serve to cool the rage coursing through me. What had I done?

  Almost done. You didn’t tell her anything.

  Almost.

  Feeling like a fool, I sat on the edge of the chair with my gun resting on my knee. Then, I stared them down. Especially Toral.

  “There’s no need for that,” she said, eyeing the gun. Neither of them had moved.

  “Let me decide that. Now, who are you?”

  “My name is Toral Patel.” She took a deep breath. “I work for the US government. Charan and Hiraani work with me.”

  “Is that your real name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you from India?”

  “My family is. I was born there but raised in London and New York.”

  “What about him?” I gestured with the gun toward Charan, my eyes never leaving Toral.

  “Similar story. And you are from the States?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Because we have been keeping an eye on you, Monsieur Morse, and your recent movements have been very hard to follow, and very disconcerting.”

  “So, I’m under investigation.”

  Stupid, stupid Morse. What will your masters say? You have signed your own death order.

  “To the contrary, Morse, we are very impressed by you. Special forces, private consulting, and you got into Emerson-Wright’s bedroom in the middle of the night and took out three armed bodyguards without harming one of them.”

  “It was four.”

  “What?”

  “Four armed bodyguards.”

  “Four,” she nodded. “Even better.”

  “I guess word got around.”

  “Yes.”

  “But I met you before my fantastic failure with Emerson-Wright.”

  “Correct. I said we were watching you. If I’d had any idea what you were about to do, I would have revealed myself sooner.”

  My rage disintegrated like paper cast into a fire, and I laughed. They looked surprised, so I laughed harder at their confused expressions. Ridiculous, the whole charade. And like a dumb human, I’d fallen for their ruse.

  When I pulled myself together somewhat, I said, “Why the elaborate act? And Charan… what were you thinking walking into that building?”

  “We had to be sure,” said Toral. “That you were who we thought you were, and that you actually had a chance to get in with Emerson-Wright. Which of course you did.”

  “Why? What do you want?”

  “What you want—to see Emerson-Wright dead or behind bars.”

  “What makes you think I want that? Maybe I just wanted a good paying job. Maybe I’m attracted to power.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Charan. “Why does a man like you go to work for someone like Emerson-Wright?”

  “What if I told you I’m CIA?”

  Toral laughed—the same laugh she’d had the day of her swimming lesson. Was t
hat fake too? I resisted the urge to puke up the pizza that was now rolling around in my stomach.

  “You’re not,” she said. “We checked.”

  I smiled back. “Do you really not know how to swim?”

  She didn’t respond, but her eyes danced with amusement.

  “You should have killed the bodyguards,” Charan said. “It was a mistake to leave them alive. Otherwise, Emerson-Wright would have hired you right then instead of waiting until after the beach incident.”

  “I couldn’t have a bloodbath on my hands inside the hotel.”

  “Why not?” asked Toral, still smiling.

  “It’s not the right thing to do?” I asked. Now that I knew the game, I’d play along until I figured out what they wanted. “And it worked out in the end, as you know.” I shot Charan a look.

  “What did you really do to that man underwater?” Toral asked.

  “Maybe you should have let me tell you when I was willing,” I said very softly. Why hadn’t she? “Again I ask, what makes you think I want EW dead?”

  “A lot of people want him dead, which brings us to our next point,” Toral said. She slid off the bed and retrieved a laptop from the dresser near the wall. She set it on the table and sat in the chair next to me.

  “We know that Emerson-Wright likes to throw his weight around to get what he wants—always has. But lately, he’s been calling in more favors, from some very interesting people.”

  “Like who?”

  Toral frowned. “Terrorists mostly, and those who sponsor them.”

  “Is he funding them?”

  “So far, no. He likes organization, and the usual extremists like to cause chaos. If anything, he prefers traditional organized crime syndicates as a way of funneling money to where he wants it to go.”

  “And if those organizations want to fund terrorism, that’s their business.”

  “Exactly. But people all over the world owe him a favor or two, and when he calls it in, you better come running or you’re dead and maybe your family with you.”

  I looked from Toral to Charan. “So, you weren’t threatened by Finn.”

  “No,” he said and nodded at me. “I invented that story to take advantage of the change of command.”

  “Hoping to slip through the cracks? But how then did Micheline know about it?”

  Oh. I shook my head, impressed. “She’s a mole.” Another play. How many more mistakes had I made?

  Neither Toral nor Charan confirmed it, but I knew it was true. She’d helped Charan get into the office. Maybe even told him I had started working there.

  “So, he’s calling in favors from terrorists,” I prompted. “Why?”

  “That’s where we’re hoping you’ll help us,” Toral said. “We’ve tried to get inside intel. A few moles have lasted a while, but then he finds out and kills them. Or they run. And then he finds them and kills them anyway.”

  “Do not mention to Micheline that you know,” added Charan. “You could inadvertently blow her cover.”

  I turned to Charan. “Just how stupid do you think I am?”

  He ignored me and said, “I’ve been trying to get in somehow or other. We were keeping an eye on you. Because of you, Finn died. We saw an opportunity and exploited it as soon as we could get to Paris. Simple as that. After your stunt in the water, we thought you may have proven yourself to EW after all. He likes brutality. And sending a messenger with an arm torn from the body of someone who tried to kill you is exactly his style. How’d you do it?”

  “How did you know he contacted me?” I asked, ignoring his question.

  “We’d planned on telling you everything in Marseilles, at lunch. But you skipped out of town. Later, when I was trying to get in on my own, I ran into you in the building. That was not planned. I realized Emerson-Wright had beat us to you. Micheline knows nothing of our previous acquaintance.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything in my apartment?”

  “Because at that point I didn’t know which side you’d take. I couldn’t take the risk.”

  “So why now?” I looked back at Toral.

  She regarded me closely. “Because he’s planning something. And we can’t figure out what it is. Micheline doesn’t have the clearance to investigate. And there’s something about you, Morse.”

  Yes—that something was a dead hybrid walking. When Condar finds out how badly I’ve screwed up, I’m done. I should just go dig my own grave and sit in it.

  Toral opened a folder on her laptop. She opened several images, satellite stills similar to the ones Marcia had been looking at.

  “In addition to calling in favors,” she said, “he’s been scouting out property all over the globe, most of it in remote locations—the Himalayas, Siberia, the Rockies. Places with no people and no connection to the outside world. And then he’s buying all of them.”

  “So, he’s looking for a vacation house—or several.”

  “It’s not really his style,” Toral countered.

  “Maybe his wife wants a getaway.”

  “I thought you’d met her. Did she strike you as the type?”

  I shook my head. Armelle liked society and fashion and convenience.

  “We think it’s more than that. There’s some reason he’s purchasing the properties, then stockpiling them with something. Endless shipments in and out. So far, we’ve only monitored with satellites, and we don’t know what’s he’s got in them. Without any more proof, we’re having a hard time selling the idea to our superiors. Especially the part where we send in manpower to investigate all thirty.”

  “Thirty? Which is why you’ve risked it all to bring me in and let me find out.”

  Toral leaned back in her chair. “Essentially, yes.”

  “What’s going to stop me from marching straight to EW with this information, then telling him where to find you?” I stared at Toral, letting the threat linger.

  She shifted in her seat. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  “It always is until the risk becomes a reality.”

  She glanced at my gun. “Or you could just shoot us all now and be done with it. If you wanted revenge for my little ruse, you could have already taken it.”

  “True, but revenge is a dish best served cold.”

  “Spare me the cliché. Are you going to help us or not?”

  I laughed despite myself. I liked this new Toral better than the old, which put me in an unusual—and infinitely more dangerous—position. “Maybe I should just sneak in and kill him for you—off the books. That would solve your problem, right?”

  Charan’s phone dinged with a message. He took it out of his pocket and frowned.

  “Tempting,” Toral said, “but we need to know what he’s planning.”

  An alien apocalypse, maybe? The thought crossed my mind as a joke. Then I paused.

  I knew about an alien apocalypse. Heck, I was the alien apocalypse.

  What was EW up to? Did we have a leak?

  Here was my chance at redemption. I needed to find out. Not an intentional leak—hybrids weren’t traitors—but somewhere, possibly one of them had made a mistake and let the humans piece things together. I suppressed a shudder. It had almost been me.

  Maybe I could salvage something from this fiasco. Get back on track with my mission, and maybe my masters would let me live. I stood and holstered my gun.

  “What do I get out of all this?”

  “Like?” Charan asked.

  “Doesn’t the CIA or whoever pay for this kind of cooperation?”

  Charan pursed his lips.

  “Remember when I said we were having trouble getting our superiors on board?” Toral asked.

  “So, no money.”

  “Help us, and we don’t tell anyone who you are,” countered Charan.

  I stopped cold and narrowed my eyes at him. If these two knew about the hybrids, we had a bigger leak than I thought. “And who do you think I am?”

  “A high-functioning sociopath who doesn’t m
ind tearing the limb off a man who has threatened his life. They still haven’t found the body.”

  I laughed in relief. He was absolutely right. But they didn’t know about the hybrids or they would be treating me differently. “Are you going to arrest me?”

  Charan smiled. “No, but we can put you on every no-fly and terror list from here to Baghdad. You’ll never travel freely again. And something tells me you like to travel.”

  I shook my head and stood, towering over him. He swayed just a hair, the urge to move back countered by training.

  “That doesn’t scare me, Charan. What do I get out of this? You can’t blackmail me.”

  “What do you want?” Toral asked.

  “A favor.”

  “What favor?” Charan asked.

  “I’ll tell you when I’m ready. And it’ll be something only you can do for me.”

  “It’s hard to agree to something I don’t know about.”

  “We’ll do it,” Toral said.

  I nodded and backed down from Charan, who looked relieved.

  I would have helped them without the favor. Once I figured out what EW was doing, I’d need help shutting him down for good. I could take him out by myself, but his organization spanned the globe, and why not let others do it? And I could also make sure the US didn’t find out about anything they shouldn’t know. If I kept what I was really doing a secret, Toral and Charan could have all the credit they wanted. I use them, they use me. If the invasion stayed under wraps, we’d all end up happy.

  “One other thing, Morse,” Toral said.

  I nodded.

  “Do you have any money?”

  21

  Leak

  Since I was no longer concerned about their safety, I moved Charan and Toral into my apartment. I had three bedrooms and access to everything in the building. And now that I knew what Toral was, I felt a little safer around her. Somehow finding out about her deception had cooled me down a bit.

  As it turned out, Charan was much older than he looked, and his skills at networking and hacking almost rivaled my own. I let him set up a private, secure network in the apartment. He took one bedroom to sleep in and to double as a control room. Toral took the other bedroom.

  “Charan,” I said as we set everything up. “Were you really that afraid of me when I brought you into this apartment, or are you just a splendid actor?”