by James Morcan
“I mean, you were never mentally ill like Mister Kentbridge said,” Helen continued. “So why did you follow me all the way there?”
The orphan hesitated. “I guess I was a fool in love.”
Momentarily mesmerized by her beauty, he knew he was revealing far too much yet again. She has that effect on me. He found her incredibly sexy at that moment even though she was dressed in casual house clothes.
“Was it really so foolish?” Helen asked, moving even closer to him. She, too, found she was drawn to her opposite.
Nine’s eyes strayed down to the singlet Helen wore. It revealed a hint of cleavage and the contours of her perfect breasts. He wondered what they would look like uncovered. All the feelings of lust she invariably invoked in him whenever he was in her presence were suddenly magnified tenfold. He brushed a loose strand of hair from out of her eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see she didn’t flinch. There was hunger in her eyes. She wants me too. He couldn’t stop staring at her full, lush lips. Before he knew it, he was kissing them.
Helen resisted, but only for a moment. She returned his kiss with a passion that surprised even her.
If Nine didn’t know it before, he knew now: Helen was irresistibly drawn to him. She’d always found him handsome – in a dangerous sort of way. Mostly, it was his eyes that fascinated her. Whenever they locked with hers, the intensity overwhelmed her.
For one split second, Helen remembered her fiancé and the way he’d cheated on her. That only made her want this virile orphan all the more.
The couple found themselves walking toward the bedroom, almost as if their bodies had minds of their own. In the bedroom, by the soft light of a bedside lamp, Nine removed Helen’s singlet so he could finally see her breasts. He wasn’t disappointed. They were firm and shapely, and the nipples responsive to his gentle touch. He ran his tongue tantalizingly over them while caressing her breasts.
Helen quivered. “Do you have protection on you?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yeah.”
Nine pulled his wallet from his back pocket and fumbled for the emergency condom he always kept inside it. As he did, Helen tore his t-shirt off. She needed him as much as he needed her. As Nine ripped the packaging from around the condom, Helen undid his belt for him and then removed his jeans and finally his undershorts. She caught her breath as she saw his swollen member, up and ready for her.
He lay her down on the double bed and then removed the last of her clothes and underwear, nearly tearing them in the process. Looking at her now naked body and staring into her alluring eyes, he hesitated.
What the hell am I doing?
Helen reached up, pulled him down onto her and wrapped her long smooth legs around his torso. She squeezed hard, pulling him tight to her.
Too late now, Sebastian, you’re past the point of no return.
Helen gasped as her mysterious lover penetrated her. The ruby that hung from Nine’s silver necklace bounced up and down between Helen’s breasts as they made love.
The orphan pinned Helen’s arms against the bed as he thrust deeper inside her. His movements became more urgent and Helen dug her long nails into his back as she matched his desire. Her groaning excited him and he became swept away, losing all sense of time and place. The thrusting grew even more passionate and frantic, and they climaxed simultaneously.
Soon afterward, they were both asleep in each other’s arms.
65
A knocking sound woke Nine from a deep and contented sleep. In his semi-dream state he wasn’t sure what it was or where it had come from.
It wasn’t until he saw Helen on his chest that he remembered where he was. She was still completely naked and still fast asleep.
Morning sunlight filtered through the bedroom curtains, creating a golden glow inside the small and somewhat cluttered room. Nine wondered for a second if was dreaming, but vivid memories of their intimacy the night before reminded him it really had happened.
There it was again. More knocking. Someone was at the apartment door.
“Helen,” Nine whispered urgently.
Helen woke. Her expression told Nine she was as shocked as he’d been at the memory of what had transpired between them overnight.
“There’s someone at the door,” he said.
“Okay.” Still half asleep, she forced herself out of bed.
Nine watched her as she quickly dressed and hurried off to answer the door. Half expecting the caller to be a fellow Omegan, he relaxed when he heard it was Helen’s neighbor, a middle-aged woman who lived in the apartment next door. From what Nine could hear it seemed the woman had some information about Caleb, Helen’s fiancé.
The woman departed and Helen returned to the bedroom. Now wide awake, she seemed embarrassed by the situation she’d found herself in. She and Nine looked at each other. It was an awkward moment for both. Each was aware something very intense had swept them away during the night.
“That was my neighbor,” Helen said. “Caleb rang her. Apparently he’s been trying to reach me by phone all night long, so I better call him now.” She retreated back out to the living room where she retrieved her discarded phone from the floor and plugged it back into the wall socket.
Nine rolled out of bed and began dressing. He listened as Helen dialed a number. “Caleb.” Her voice carried to him. “I heard you were trying to reach me.” There was a brief silence as she listened to her fiancé’s answer. “I also heard you were with your ex at a restaurant last night,” Helen said accusingly. This time the silence was a long one as Caleb obviously tried to explain his rendezvous with his old girlfriend. Whatever he said seemed to appease Helen. Nine could tell by her softening tone she believed her fiancé. “I was so worried,” Helen said into the phone as a now fully dressed Nine walked out into the lounge. “I’m sorry for doubting you, baby.”
Nine wandered over to a window and looked down at the street below. He confirmed the Lexus was still where he’d parked it.
“Love you too,” Helen said before hanging up.
Nine turned back to Helen and looked at her enquiringly. Caleb had assured her he’d run into his ex by chance and certainly didn’t sleep with her. Helen had believed him and was convinced he’d been telling the truth. Nine didn’t need to be told any of that, though. The relief on Helen’s face made it clear the couple had patched up their differences. “The wedding’s still on then?”
“Yes.” Another awkward silence. “Last night,” she ventured, “was just an--”
“An interlude?”
Helen nodded.
“Same for me.” Changing the subject, Nine gestured to the coffee table where Helen’s conspiracy books, photographs and research notes on the Pedemont Orphanage remained untouched. “Your curiosity and your ambition will lead to an early grave. An early grave for you.” He paused to let his words sink in then added, “And your father.” Helen’s eyes flew wide open. Nine was pleased to see his reference to her father got the desired reaction, but he wasn’t finished yet. “They know where to find your father, and your fiancé if it comes to that, and they can dispose of them in a heartbeat.”
“They?”
Nine realized she was still probing for information. You just can’t help yourself, can you? Running out of patience, he snapped, “This is not some story, Helen! This is your life we are talking about. And other lives, too, quite possibly.”
Helen couldn’t believe what Nine had sprung on her. She suddenly had a lot to think about. So much had happened in the last twenty four hours, her mind was spinning. It felt like her life was spiraling out of control. Her earlier bravado had been replaced by fear. A chilling, deep-seated dread, like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
Nine sensed he’d done enough to scare her off writing a story let alone submitting it to her university newspaper. However, that wasn’t enough. He and his Omega masters needed to know for sure that she wouldn’t write anything about the orphanage, now or ever. He had one last card to play and he dec
ided to play it. “Of course, your wedding wouldn’t go ahead if Caleb found out what happened between us last night.”
Helen looked at him incredulously. “You bastard.”
Nine knew he was stooping pretty low. He wasn’t overly concerned by any of that, however, for the truth was he had none of the feelings he’d felt for the Greek beauty when he was younger. To him, the night just gone had only been about sex – and on this occasion sex was one of the weapons he was using to make sure Omega maintained its invisibility. At the same time, he liked Helen as a person and didn’t want anything untoward to happen to her, ever. He was resigned to the fact that she would never understand or believe he had her best interests at heart.
Helen had been rendered speechless. Her downward spiral continued and she felt like she was living a nightmare.
“You need to choose, Helen,” Nine continued mercilessly. “It’s one or the other. Either submit the article to your university newspaper and risk your life and those around you, or get married and live happily ever after.” He could see by the look in her eyes that Helen was totally defeated. She obviously wouldn’t be pursuing the story. “Good, that’s settled then.” He collected Helen’s notes and photographs from the coffee table, leaving only the library books, and started to walk toward the apartment door.
“What turned you into such an asshole, Luke?”
Nine stopped and looked at her. He pointed to the book cover of The Faceless Men on the coffee table. “They did.” He opened the door and walked out of the apartment.
As he headed for the stairs, he heard the door to Helen’s apartment slam shut, emphatically closing the door on another chapter of his eventful life.
Nine felt no guilt over the blackmail tactics he’d so ruthlessly employed. After all, he’d simultaneously protected Helen’s and Omega’s interests, saving her life and protecting the agency’s invisibility. It was the best he could do under the circumstances.
66
In his castle-like mansion in rural Illinois’ Saint Clair County, Naylor was woken by the shrill ring of his bedside telephone.
Naylor turned on a bedside lamp as he reached for the phone. The naked eighteen-year-old prostitute next to him rolled over, intent on getting back to sleep. There was no Missus Naylor. Not living with him at least. After enduring years of her husband’s extramarital affairs, Missus Naylor had recently moved out and a divorce was imminent.
“Hello?” He hated being woken in the early hours and hoped for the caller’s sake the call was urgent.
“Put this through to your secure line, Andrew.” The voice was unmistakably Lincoln Claver’s, a pharmaceutical tycoon and one of Omega’s founders. Claver was calling from the agency’s HQ beneath the abandoned hydro dam, which was only a few miles away. Background chatter from Omega staff working the night shift could be heard on the line.
Naylor immediately knew something major was up. “Will do.” He glanced at the young hooker as he transferred the call to the phone in his downstairs den. “Stand by.” He hung up, quickly donned his dressing gown and hurried down to the den to retrieve the transferred call. “Back,” he simply said into the secure phone.
“Andrew, we have a situ on our hands,” Claver said without preamble. “Don’t ask how they managed it, but Nexus have accessed our offshore bank accounts and all but cleaned us out.”
“But that’s impossible!” Naylor couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Impossible or not, it has happened. Our accounts in Zurich, Bermuda, Luxembourg and the Isle of Man all now have zero balances.”
Naylor felt as though he was in the middle some terrible nightmare. Omega’s offshore cash reserves totaled billions of dollars. In theory, the agency’s high tech security and safeguards meant its cash should be safer than Fort Knox. He was momentarily speechless as he marshaled his thoughts.
“Omega is at a crossroads now, Andrew,” Claver continued. “Everyone has poured as much money into the agency as we are going to until we see results. Real results.”
Naylor knew full well the billionaire chemist was referring to the substantial investments he and the other founders had made in Omega over the years.
Claver continued, “None of us have been able to reap the rewards we expected.”
“I know, I know.” Naylor could feel his lazy eye beginning to twitch violently.
“What about the Royals?” Claver asked. “Do you think they will bankroll us until some of our investments return dividends?”
Naylor knew the investments he referred to were primarily the Pedemont Orphans. “I don’t know, Lincoln. We’ll have to speak to Lady Penelope about that.”
“Okay, well set that up as soon as you can. Meanwhile there’s something else.”
Naylor scratched his forehead. He wondered what more there could be and could feel his stress levels rising. “Yes, go on,” he snapped somewhat impatiently.
“Our intelligence team alerted us to some female private investigator in Seattle.”
Naylor wrote down Seattle on a notepad as he listened.
Claver continued, “Apparently she’s been hired to investigate Judge Patterson.”
It took Naylor a few seconds to realize the significance of what Claver was saying. Judge Patterson was one of the many corrupt people of influence on Omega’s payroll. People who did favors for the agency when asked.
“This P.I. bitch suspects our judge may not be straight up and down,” Claver added. “She has already collected enough information to potentially damage him, and possibly even damage us.”
“Okay, I’ll handle it,” Naylor said. “Tommy’s orphans are finally ready for activation, so I’ll instruct him to send his best brat to Seattle and silence the P.I.”
“Good. Now I suggest you cancel the indoor games with your little whore and get down here quick.”
The line went dead, leaving Naylor wondering how Claver knew he was entertaining a prostitute. Suddenly suspicious, he hurried back to his bedroom, switched on the light and checked the ceiling and other logical places someone could have hidden a microphone or surveillance camera.
“Turn the light out,” the prostitute said drowsily.
Naylor pulled the bedclothes off the still naked teenager. “Piss off, you little slut!” he ordered. “And grab your money on the way out. I left it on the kitchen sink.”
Grumbling to herself, the prostitute hurriedly dressed and made her way to the kitchen. Behind her, the Omega director completed his search of the bedroom. He found nothing untoward and relaxed, telling himself he was being paranoid. Hell, any fool could guess what I’m getting up to here. After all, it was common knowledge within Omega circles that he’d regularly hired hookers since his wife had left him, and even before she’d left him on occasion.
67
None of the other residents gave Andrea Milburn a second glance as she entered her downtown Seattle apartment building. That was the way she liked it. A private investigator, she subscribed to the theory those of her ilk should be inconspicuous. And P.I. Milburn was certainly that.
Of average height and very average appearance, thirty-six-year-old Milburn was so inconspicuous she was one step away from being invisible. That had stood her in good stead: a sharp brain and bulldog determination combined with an ability to remain unnoticed all contributed to her reputation for being one of Washington State’s most respected private investigators.
Milburn was forced to use the stairs to the building’s fifth floor as the elevators were under repair. She carried a bulging leather briefcase in each hand. The cases contained papers relating to an investigation on one of Seattle’s top judges – an enquiry so sensitive she’d not yet mentioned it to anyone.
On arrival at her floor, she strode brusquely along the corridor leading to her apartment. She glanced at her watch as she walked. It was not yet four o’clock. She’d left work early to study the contents of the briefcases in the privacy of her home.
Milburn unlocked her apartment door an
d stepped inside. A quick inspection of the neat, one bedroom apartment confirmed it was as she’d left it. A faint musty smell, pleasantly reminiscent of camphor, was testament to the fact the occupant left the place closed up for long periods. Milburn was a workaholic who spent considerably more time at work than at home.
The P.I. dropped her cases on the carpeted floor of the living room and walked to the nearest window, as she always did, to admire the view of Seattle, or Jet City as she called it. It wasn’t often she got to see the view by day as she usually left for work before dawn and returned after dark.
Across the street, hugging 4th Avenue’s busy sidewalk, was the splendid Fairmont Olympic Hotel. Milburn never tired of looking at this grande dame of Seattle’s hotels. As she studied its delightful contours, she’d have been perturbed to know she was being observed at that very moment by one of the hotel’s guests. Even if she had sensed it, it was doubtful she’d have spotted anything untoward. The guest was observing her through binoculars that protruded through a narrow gap in the curtains of his fifth floor room.
At that same moment, in the luxurious fifth floor room of the Fairmont, the owner of the binoculars turned away from the gap in the curtains and sat on the edge a king-sized bed.
It was Nine.
The orphan’s right index finger trembled over a red button on top of a black device he held. The radio-controlled device, which was smaller than the palm of his hand, was something Kentbridge had given him to pull off this Seattle assignment.
Feeling out of sorts, Nine put the device down and rubbed his temple. He had another splitting headache and cursed the unfortunate timing, occurring as it did at this moment – the single most important moment of all his training years with Omega. In fact, his current assignment would mark the end of his training, so long as he could complete it successfully.
Nine looked down at the room’s sumptuously carpeted floor and tried to psyche himself up. He reminded himself this was the final initiation he needed to pass before graduating from the Pedemont Project. Kentbridge had promised him once he completed this mission he would be a fully-instated operative. As such, he would be sent all over the world to carry out assignments for the Omega Agency.