“And you didn’t think you would have been better off working together?”
“Why?” Miller shrugged. “I’m the one who’s here now, the last man standing. They all played their part, and I reap the reward.”
Olek took the doll from him and stared at it. “So what’s this doll got to do with anything?”
“When I was first assigned to New Zealand, I was studying politics, after obtaining a degree in journalism. No better way of meeting important people and becoming known to them. There was a woman, Mary Whittaker. She knew everything there was to know about politics. I dated her one night out of curiosity, and one night was more than enough. Most boring woman you ever met, until she became the main player in the biggest scandal in New Zealand history. Nothing came of it and I lost interest, too busy learning computer technology.
“I secured a good positon in the Government Communications Security Bureau, with every chance of advancement but Mary was better. She was smart too. Until recently, I never understood how she found out about me, but I fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book. Out of nowhere, one day she comes to my office and asks, “How is your day going, Bevan?” I replied, “It’s going very well, thank you, Mary” and it actually took me several seconds to realise we had just conversed in Russian.”
Olek laughed and nodded knowingly. “One of the simplest, most effective methods for weeding out foreign spies.”
“And so then I had to find out how much she knew. I’d planned to have her kidnapped in London during the talks with the heads of security. We had it all set up, but Mary decided to take an unscheduled trip to Paris after buying this doll, and she didn’t come back.”
“So it wasn’t you who killed her?”
“No, but I have a good idea now who did.” Miller turned to Esther. “Who do you think killed Mary?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come now, I would think the evidence speaks for itself.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“Are you telling me Tyler wouldn’t eliminate a substantial risk to his identity? In the past few months, I’ve lost count of the people he’s murdered, and over what?”
Esther didn’t answer.
“Well, we’re about to see. Show me this system… Now.”
* * * * *
“Come on, arsehole,” Dylan whispered. “Just come a little closer.”
For fifteen minutes, Dylan had watched the man stroll the grounds in front of the house. An assault rifle hung down by his legs, the butt held casually in his grip. His gait revealed his boredom and confidence that nothing was about to happen, a confidence Dylan wanted to maintain.
The man was an easy target for a bullet, but Dylan knew it would alert the other one who was at the back of the house, and possibly the ones inside. Patience was the best strategy for the time being.
With night coming on, there were already lights switched on in the house, but his study remained dark. It surprised him that Miller was in no hurry to get to this room, but Dylan appreciated the time to take out these two men quietly.
Only his body was complaining, having pushed it to its limits, running to get to this point. The pain was tremendous, and inside his heavy clothing, the trickle of sweat was stinging his blistered back. It was a sobering reminder that he was still alive and had a duty to remain that way. If it meant being patient, he would do just that. There could be no more mistakes.
A rustle of vegetation behind him, instantly froze him in position, his logic taking control of his momentary panic. There could be no-one behind him without Yvette alerting him through his earpiece. Slowly, turning his head, he saw a rabbit taking small lazy hops, its nose twitching at the ground. Further back, another had its head up and ears turning to listen. Neither of them had yet seen his black solid frame as anything threatening.
The closest rabbit kept moving along, slowly coming out of the treeline and vegetation. It stopped when it became aware of the man near the house, and scampered back into the bushes, scattering up dead leaves and sticks. It wasn’t much sound, but Dylan grinned and turned to watch the man’s reaction.
He was looking his way and taking a firmer grip on the rifle. Pulling a torch from his belt, he directed the beam toward the trees. Dylan bowed his head before it shone on his eyes. The ski mask covered the rest of his face.
The beam played over the area and then went out. The torch was returned to his belt and the man resumed his stroll. Dylan cursed silently and prepared for another wait. Two more minutes of silence brought another rabbit out. Slowly reaching for a stone, Dylan waited until it had hopped on a few metres and then threw it, hitting the rabbit in the side. It bolted, making a good ruckus as it went.
This time the man saw the rabbit as it dashed from the bushes and ran across the lawn. He brought up his rifle and lined it up. Dylan watched as he followed it in his scopes, and was surprised to see the slight kick as he silently took the shot. There was no more than a click before the rabbit squealed, leaping high into the air, blood spraying out before the small, ripped body fell unmoving to the ground. The momentary pity for the rabbit was soon replaced with a fascination for the rifle.
The man was laughing to himself as he lowered his weapon. Dylan watched and grinned as his attention returned to the trees. There was nothing like a bit of boredom to bring the hunter out, and a crack shot at that, which Dylan duly noted.
As the man began to walk towards the treeline, Dylan crouched side-on, bowing his head as he took a firm grip on his knife. When he went slightly in the wrong direction, Dylan gritted his teeth and reluctantly rustled the bush. The man turned and approached, still grinning and his rifle poised as he craned his head to look through the vegetation.
When he was within two feet, Dylan uncoiled and sprang, arcing the knife in a swift, graceful movement as it sliced deeply across his throat. Terror widened the man’s eyes and his mouth moved, unable to make more than a gurgle. Dylan grabbed his arms, pulled him down into the bushes and held him to the ground. As he bucked, Dylan used his weight to keep him still until his body went limp. Dylan removed the rifle still clutched in his hands, watching as the life went out of him.
The light went on in the study, and Dylan lay low, peering at the gaps between the open curtains. His heart rate increased as he saw Esther. She looked small and frail against the two men following her. Miller was dressed in a suit, his face clean shaven and the hair beyond his bald head was all combed down with a shine. The other man was taller and broader, dressed in black fatigues and completely bald.
Dylan dragged the body back into the trees and bushes. At the same time, his earpiece crackled and Yvette spoke to him.
“They’re in the study now, Master, Esther, Miller and the other man, Olek.”
Dylan didn’t reply, but Yvette knew to expect silence for a while. Studying the man’s rifle, Dylan admired the long silencer on the end. Opening the breach, he looked at the flat nosed cartridge inside, designed to do maximum damage to soft tissue.
Wiping his knife on the man’s clothes, he returned it to his boot and grinned as he took up the rifle. The second man was going to be a whole lot easier to take out.
* * * * *
Miller watched as Esther removed a number of books on the shelf to reveal a numbered panel. He saw the reluctance in her face to carry on.
“Do it,” he demanded.
Her finger went to the panel and he watched her punch in a seven digit code. She stood back and he could hear a whirring sound, before the whole shelf began to move back and slide to one side behind another, revealing the solid plain walls of another room and a door.
“You first,” he told her.
Esther opened the door and entered with Miller following cautiously behind her. His caution was forgotten as he stepped inside. A chair and a long table were immediately in front of him. On the table were a laptop, a keyboard and three large monitors with internal processors. Beyond was a wall of screens. Four of them had blue fluorescent data that
seemed to be falling on a black background like a waterfall. The others were switched off.
Miller was awed. “That’s it, isn’t it? Zirconia at work, much the same as Prism, but a lot more powerful.”
Olek eventually wandered in, his jaw hanging as he gazed about the room. His hand reached out to touch the strangely textured surface of the nearest wall. It looked like thousands of small egg cartons covered in a carpet material.
“Soundproofed,” he commented.
“More than that,” Bevan replied, looking up to see the same on the ceiling. “I’ve seen similar insulation to stop technology like radar pulses allowing anyone to hear through walls or pick up on heat. What I don’t see is the supercomputer that Zirconia is, the power supply, cooling systems, cabinets to house the thousands of processors.”
“So you’re saying this is not the supercomputer. We can’t just copy a few files onto an external hard drive and take off.”
“No.” Miller glared at Esther. “I’m assuming the system can be fully operated from here, but what I want is the fucking supercomputer this program runs on. Where is it housed?”
Esther shook her head. “Zirconia isn’t a program.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s a virus which feeds itself into a supercomputer and takes command, allowing it to perform its function normally, while cloning and diverting requested data to an external encrypted network.”
Miller scowled. “New Zealand has several supercomputer systems, Blenheim, Greta Point, Otago… be more specific. Which of them have been accessed?”
“All of them,” Esther replied.
Miller breathed out slowly. “You mean in New Zealand?”
“No, I mean all of them. When China recently hacked into Greta Point, its own network became infected, allowing Zirconia to begin the process of enslaving that system to itself as well.”
“That’s more than a virus.” Miller laughed softly. “That’s a plague of ultimate power. It’s unfathomable, and impossible to run from here without the proper processors.”
“This is the only place it can be operated from,” Esther said. “And only by Dylan.”
“No. Something of that magnitude… All that data has to be collected somewhere and analysed. That’s too much for one man, which tells me there are a lot more people involved, people, I imagine, very much like yourself.”
“What is she saying?” Olek demanded. “Supercomputers, viruses… Explain this.”
“Simply put, if Esther is telling the truth, Dylan Tyler had access to every computer system and network in the world. It’s beyond comprehension. He could have held the world to ransom.”
“Nah, I don’t believe it.” Olek shook his head. “Why didn’t he use it, a man who got his kicks from being called Master? Instead he chose to play dress-ups with fat old sluts and hide out in this shithole of a country.”
“Who knows,” Miller smiled. “But we’re going to find out, though it means we might need to extend our stay here. I’m going to need to contact the Kremlin, bring in computer analysts, technicians…” He grinned at Olek. “You mind staying on a few days?”
“Fuck, no,” Olek laughed. “We got booze, food and a slut to entertain us. What more could we ask for?”
“Nothing. Certainly not a more covert location. Of course we’ll need to secure the property, ward off unwanted visitors.”
“I’ve got everything we need in the car, even a couple of land mines for setting out on the track coming in here. Can we operate those camera from here?”
Miller looked at Esther. “Show us the cameras.”
Esther moved in and gazed down at the keyboard. “I’ve never worked them from here. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Try.” Miller replied bluntly.
She pressed down on a key and one of the blank screens lit up. It showed an infrared image of the road. As she kept pressing, it flicked to different shots as far away as the road that had branched off from the main highway.
“He’s got cameras everywhere,” Olek said.
As she continued, the grounds outside the house could be seen with the vehicles they had arrived in. Miller stepped in, pushing her aside and began to work the cameras himself, manually changing their angles.
He frowned as he studied the screens. “Olek, where are your men?”
“It’s a massive property. They could be anywhere. Hang on.” He unclipped a radio, depressed a button and spoke in Russian.
There was no reply. He repeated his call only to be met by static. “It’s probably this room, interfering with transmission.”
Miller continued to work the cameras and frowned as various rooms of the house appeared. “So there are cameras inside, but none that we could see.”
As he watched, the screen went blank. He poked the keyboard a few times but the screen remained blank. “What’s happened?”
“I don’t know,” Esther replied.
“Esther, I imagine it’s been a harrowing time for you today, and I’m tired and hungry myself, so I’m going to give you a break, to freshen up, have something to eat, help refresh your memory. In an hour, we’ll return to this room and if you say ‘I don’t know’ to me again, I’m going to let Olek have you for an hour.”
Esther looked away, but her attention was drawn back to the screen as it flickered back to life. She gasped to see the theatre partially lit up.”
Miller frowned as he controlled the camera to roam about it. “What’s that room?”
Dylan’s instruments of sex and discipline could be seen in display cabinets and mounted on walls. Chains were hanging from the roof above the front of the stage which extended into the darkness. In the centre of the light was a long bench, with straps hanging down from it and a cane lying on its padded leather. Olek moved closer, studying the footage as he softly laughed.
“I would say that’s the play room. That’s what I want to see.”
Before he had finished speaking, Esther was taking off. She heard the shouting behind her, but she didn’t look back until she was throwing open the study door and bolting into the hallway. If she could get to the theatre and lock herself in…
Olek crashed into her, bringing her down to the floor, his weight crushing her. Esther screamed as she felt the excruciating agony of her shoulder dislocating. She continued to scream until Olek rolled her onto her back and put his hand at her throat, choking her.
“Fuck up.” His face was right in hers. “You shut your fucking mouth and listen.”
Her mouth was open and her face contorted with silent agony as she stared at him.
“Hurting are we?”
She nodded, trying to say, “My arm.”
“Your arm? That’s the least of your problems if you try that again.” He moved off her a little and smiled. “You’re actually a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”
Miller came up behind them. “Just remember, Olek, she’s no good to us dead.”
“I know, but she needs to understand who her new Masters are now.” His eyes moved down her body and his hand went to her breast, squeezing it through the thick jersey. His hand went lower and came up underneath. He grinned as he took hold of it again. “Nice. Firm little titties.”
His hand glided down her body and slipped beneath her panties. He frowned. “No hair, just a little stubble.”
Esther grimaced as his fingers slid lower and began to probe to get into her.
“Spread your legs,” he demanded.
She complied and pursed her mouth tightly as he began to penetrate her.
“Tight,” he smiled. “And wet. You like this don’t you? A bit of pain, a bit of sex… I bet you’d love a big cock inside of you about now, wouldn’t you?” He laughed. “What a little slut you are.”
“Olek,” Miller growled. “Later. I want to question her, before you start doing her any damage.”
“She’s a whore. She can take it. You don’t think Zaleski wasn’t pounding this cunt every day?” He grinned at
Esther. “Isn’t that right, Esther? You like to be fucked, don’t you?”
Esther glared at Olek, tears running down the sides of her face. The anguish of the pain slowly faded from her face and a smile began to appear. “Yes.”
Her answer made him laugh. “You see, Mishka. She knows what she wants.”
Miller watched them in disgust. “Enough. Get up, Olek. We have work to do.”
“Just fucking wait,” Olek snarled back at him, before his gaze went back to her, smiling as he pushed his fingers deeper into her. “Not enough, is it? You want my cock, don’t you, sweetheart?”
Esther nodded, beginning to breathe heavier as she pushed back against his hand. “I like to be tied up and whipped.”
“Is that where he fucks you, in that room we saw?”
“Yes.” Esther bucked harder against him. “He’d cane me first, make me bleed and fuck me in the arse and then force me to suck his cock.”
Olek shivered. “And I bet you fucking loved it.”
She smiled and nodded.
“Olek,” Miller tried to keep his voice even. “You need to be checking in with your men, remember?”
“And I will.” He took his hand away and licked her juices from his fingers as he got to his feet. There was a distinctive bulge at the front of his military pants and he cupped it, shifting his cock. “The moment I’ve offloaded this. I want to see that play room.”
Miller shook his head in frustration. “We don’t have time for this.”
“We have all the fucking time in the world. This will take five minutes.” Olek glared at Esther. “Get up.”
As she moved, Esther whimpered as the pain ripped through her.
“Show me that room,” Olek demanded.
Esther nodded and turned away to lead them, thinking of the cane lying innocently on the bench. Its message couldn’t be louder. It was her cane, plaited red leather over bamboo with her name engraved into the sterling silver ferrule. Dylan had made it for her and she’d never cherished a birthday gift so much.
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