Unborn

by Daniel Gage

  “Tell me something, Olivier,” Michael said. “Do you believe? Or do you think it’s just fantasy?”

  “Until this, I would have thought it was just a fantasy,” Olivier said after a pause. “But now, I don’t know.”

  “You said you have video,” Emma said. “Can we see it?”

  Olivier nodded and indicated toward a television mounted on the wall behind them. He then pressed a button on his computer, and the screen came to life.

  The footage was from a hallway, and it showed Olivier and two other guards preparing to enter the room. They spoke to a woman, who nodded nervously.

  “This is when we realized something was wrong,” Olivier explained, as the video had no sound. “We sent in the handmaiden first, to make sure the princess was secure.”

  There was a pause before the guards charged in, followed by two flashes of gunfire. Then, a man in a doctor’s coat burst out of the room, a guard impaled on his knife. Emma could see blood pouring from his injuries, but it didn’t seem to slow him down.

  Olivier intervened and struggled with the man, sustaining an injury of his own. The two tangled up in a brief struggle, and Olivier almost had the man overpowered, but the man surprised Olivier with a gut punch and tore himself free from the doctor’s coat.

  The man fled, leaving Olivier on the ground with his hands clutching the blood-stained garment.

  Emma’s hands covered her mouth that had fallen agape. “Oh God,” she whispered.

  “I put two bullets in his chest,” Olivier explained, though there was a hint of irritation in his tone. “Some more of my guards shot him as well, but it didn’t slow him down. He killed two of my men during his escape.”

  “It’s him,” Michael said. “It has to be.”

  Olivier’s eyes went wide. “Who?” he asked. “Who is this?”

  “A very, very dangerous man,” Emma said. The tension in the room increased significantly as she realized what this meant. “And if he had access to the princess, she’s been tagged.”

  “Tagged?” Olivier asked. “Tell me what’s happening!”

  “She’s been tagged for birthright theft,” Michael explained. “It won’t hurt her, at least not directly. But we need to act fast.”

  “I need to see the princess,” Emma said. “We have a scanner that—”

  “Absolutely not,” Olivier cut her off. His tone wasn’t rude, but it exuded the authority that he was used to commanding. “She’s been through enough. You can give me this scanner and explain how it works, and after we analyze the results, we’ll make our decision. But this tag, you say … it’s bad, isn’t it?”

  “Very,” Emma said, attempting to keep her voice neutral, though she had to settle herself with a controlled breath before continuing. “It means, from here on in, we’re reacting. And they won’t need access to the princess again.”

  “They?” Olivier asked.

  “Second-Life Dealers,” Emma said.

  There was a pause before the chief guard spoke again.

  “How do we know?” Olivier asked. “How do we know when it happens? A baby is a baby, isn’t it?”

  Emma leaned forward as she spoke. “You don’t know, at least not for sure. But there’s something odd about the child. Maybe he doesn’t cry as much as other kids. Maybe there’s an intelligence behind his eyes that doesn’t match his age. And as he grows, he’ll be more advanced than other children. And that’s because he’s lived a full life before. He’ll try to hide it, to make it seem like he’s a normal child, but he’ll know things he shouldn’t. Realize things that no one his age should.”

  “After a few years, a particular mark forms,” Michael added. “But it takes time, and it’s a random location. These children are aware of it, and by that age, they can usually hide the mark from anyone who would know to look.”

  Olivier nodded as the agents explained. Then the chief guard stood and turned to look out a large window, one that presided over the palace courtyard.

  “But you can’t prove it, can you?” Olivier said. “And you can’t prove you prevent it. We can’t trust we won’t discover it after a few years. So I’m afraid we don’t have a deal.”

  Michael seemed slightly irritated, but all he did was roll his eyes and turn to leave.

  Emma wasn’t satisfied, however.

  Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the recent upsets in Prague with the dealers and the unfounded rumor from Boston. But Emma wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  “If there was an assassination threat, would you so casually dismiss it?” Emma snarled. She stood and leaned across the desk, every muscle in her body tense and ready for action. “No. You’d act against it. You wouldn’t wait for it to happen then decide to do something about it, would you? Of course not.”

  Emma glanced at Michael, who looked more than a little shocked. Olivier, however, hadn’t reacted.

  “But if you did, you’d have an obvious crime you could prosecute,” Emma continued. “Yet for birthright theft, if you wait, you can’t do anything about it after the fact. Because the perpetrator will be living as the new child for your employers. How would they take that, knowing you passed on the opportunity to prevent their unborn child from losing his birthright?”

  Olivier still didn’t answer. And after a few seconds of silence, Emma decided she’d had enough.

  “Come on, Michael. Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” Olivier finally said as they reached the door.

  Emma turned and faced him, but didn’t reply.

  “There have been several threats against the family, concerning the pregnancy announcement,” Olivier said, keeping his back to the agents. “If we hire you, you’ll be hired on as additional security. You’re not to say a thing to the press, nor mention anything about Second-Life, birthright thievery, dealers, tracers, or anything. If questioned by anyone for any reason, you refer them back to me.”

  He turned slowly, his face expressionless and solid.

  “Is that clear?” Olivier asked firmly.

  “Perfectly,” Emma said without hesitation.

  “Discretion is our motto,” Michael said. “They operate in shadows, and so do we.”

  “Good,” Olivier said. “Say nothing to the guards here. We’ll operate discreetly. You keep me posted on your findings, and I’ll let you know about anything strange that may be going on. However, there is one more thing.”

  The head guard moved back to his computer and pulled up another file.

  “Right before the assailant attended to the princess, he received a call. It was secure, so it’s garbled, but I don’t think he realized that we own the cell towers around the palace.”

  Emma and Michael exchanged a glance as Olivier started the recording. There were two distinct voices, though they both came through at different times.

  “… not done… diffic…”

  “...derstoo… escal…”

  “…stronger… he’s…”

  “... ameron bri…”

  “… in New York…”

  Then everything went to static, and the recording ended.

  “Not sure if that helps; we couldn’t make sense of it,” Olivier said. “Sounds like something wasn’t done in New York?”

  “Doesn’t mean a thing to us,” Michael said. “But let us know if you can get any more of the audio cleaned up. Come on, Emma.”

  Michael stood and turned to the door before he looked back.

  “Emma? You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said as she shook her head and stood.

  It took her a moment to process it, and she was a little surprised Michael didn’t catch on.

  In that recording, between the attacker and an unknown party, one of them said what seemed to be a name.

  Cameron Briggs.

  CHAPTER 10

  “The device seems harmless,” Doctor Durand said as he analyzed the piece of technology. “There’s nothing invasive about it. If I had to compare it to anything, it’s a bit like sonar.”
/>
  “How does it work?” Olivier inquired.

  “From what the agents said, all we do is place the fabric over the womb, and turn it on,” the doctor said with a shrug. “And if we so choose, this button here sends the report to the agents. They made it relatively simple.”

  “Good,” Olivier said. “Just don’t worry the princess, please? She’s been through enough.”

  The doctor nodded and pushed the door open.

  The princess was within, lying on the medical bed. Olivier thought she was doing an excellent job in maintaining her composure, but with Olivier’s experience and constantly being around the royal family, he could recognize panic behind her eyes.

  “Hello, Princess,” the doctor said with a jovial smile. “How have you been feeling?”

  “About the same, considering,” Regina said while attempting to return the gesture. It fell short, and came off more as desperation. If anyone was desperate for answers, it was the princess.

  Olivier’s heart broke for her. He couldn’t imagine how she felt right now, but due to her position, she had to be careful about showing any potential weakness, even to her trusted physician and head of security. He wanted to tell her she could cry and vent her fears and frustrations, but he had no place to say such a thing.

  Such was the curse of her station.

  “Excellent,” the doctor said as he held his grin. “We’ve done some research, and this device I have should tell us if anything has happened to your child. I know you feel well, but I’m sure you want some peace of mind. May I use it? It’s nothing invasive.”

  The princess took a breath and released it before nodding.

  Doctor Durand proceeded to roll back her gown and expose her abdomen while Olivier looked away. It was a private moment, and he had no desire to intrude.

  Olivier heard the doctor go to work, and soon the device clicked on with a faint hum.

  “Impressive,” the doctor said. “We’ll have to see about keeping this device. Olivier, you may turn around now.”

  The head of security turned and was surprised to see a three-dimensional image of an unborn child floating above the pregnant princess. The level of detail was superb, and as the child moved, so did the image.

  “Oh my God,” the princess said. A genuine smile parted her lips. “Is that my child?”

  “Yes,” the doctor said. “And he looks more than healthy.”

  Olivier leaned in closer. Agent Jennings had told him what to look for, and that it may be faint. He peered into the virtual child’s translucent form, and soon found what he was looking for.

  Against the green and yellow coloring was a small red X. It was a marking, just like the agents said there would be.

  “Oh, that’s wonderful,” the princess said. “What do you think, Olivier? Is everything okay?”

  Olivier swallowed any emotion he felt and managed a weak smile.

  “Yes,” he lied. “Yes. Everything is going to be just fine.”

  **********

  Emma and Michael drove about a quarter of the distance back to Nice in silence, before Michael spoke.

  “Want to get dinner before we fly out?” Michael said. “I’ve heard about some great restaurants in Nice.”

  “Dinner? After that conversation?” Emma asked. “You don’t want to talk about what just happened?”

  “No, what is there to discuss?” Michael said calmly, but his gestures indicated otherwise. He made a sharp cut across his throat with his finger, and then tapped his ear. “They agreed to use the scanner, and possibly hire us. Nothing we can do until then.”

  Emma quickly realized what he meant. They were lured away from their car, and told not to speak of the deal to anyone. She didn’t know if Michael merely suspected there was a bug, or if he found it immediately.

  That would also explain why Michael hadn’t commented on the note, or Cameron’s name being written on it. There was a good chance he didn’t remember the name, as he hadn’t investigated it as closely as she did. But still, she expected something. Maybe he was saving it for later, when there was less risk of prying eyes.

  But the bigger question for Emma was, if their vehicle had been bugged, was it because Olivier wanted to keep tabs on them? Was it distrust from the royal guards? Or had they already been bought by the Second-Life dealers?

  Or was Olivier simply humoring them, to keep the chatter about birthright theft down? Was the payment only to make them go away?

  “No, you’re right,” Emma said, but her wide eyes told Michael she understood his gesture. “I’m just tired. I’m going to get some rest before dinner.”

  “Good idea,” Michael said with a nod.

  But as exhausted as she was, she couldn’t sleep no matter how hard she tried.

  Preventing birthright thievery was a difficult enough task. But a royal birthright theft, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was up for the task.

  If their entire agency was up for the task.

  **********

  At dinner, Michael ate and drank to his content, but Emma couldn’t stomach eating. Thoughts bombarded her brain ever since their meeting, and the long silence in the car ride only made things worse.

  She was thankful that Michael at least allowed her peace during dinner, not pestering her with questions and suggestions. He flirted with the waitress and made conversation with nearby tables, switching back and forth from his mediocre French. The locals seemed to enjoy his attempts at their language, and he soaked up the attention.

  But the sad part was, this was the closest thing Emma’d had to a date in years. And Michael was completely oblivious to her lonely lot in life, but she also realized it was entirely her fault.

  Emma had to stop thinking that way. They had just met with a prospective client, and she needed to focus on the potential job. She had to.

  “Did you want to take a night in Paris?” Michael asked, his voice lower and more intimate than it had been before. “Seems you could use the relief. And dating never worked, but you seemed to enjoy our other things we did.”

  Michael was being coy, but the message was obvious. And Emma had to admit, it was tempting.

  “No, not when we’re starting a new job,” she finally said, while shaking her head. “Maybe after. To celebrate.”

  She added a wink to her last statement, but Michael didn’t show any reaction. He seemed to shrug it off, as if the conversation never took place. Yet it rang in her ears, again a reminder of her solitude. She didn’t want to think about how far she had fallen, to where her only physical release was with a man she could only stand being around half of the time.

  Emma had to focus on the job. It was her only escape from herself.

  “That man,” she muttered, so only he could hear. “From the video. That really was him, wasn’t it?”

  Michael broke the eye contact, then nodded. Mentioning him wasn’t easy for either of them.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I think so.”

  “Are we ready for that?” Emma asked, her eyes betraying both her fatigue and concern. “Are we ready to face Dealer X?”

  “I don’t know,” Michael said after a moment. “But we’ll have to be.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Leonard glanced at his watch.

  7:27

  Same time as it was when he glanced at it thirty seconds earlier.

  From his office, he gazed out into the sea of cubicles, only two of his employees left on the floor.

  Not that he needed them to leave, but it felt appropriate. He had all the access he needed, and no one would have questioned him, even if it was during the day and the floor was busy with deals and trouble calls.

  He resolved long ago to do this, almost immediately after his not-so-coincidental meeting with the dealer. He never got the dealer’s name, but that didn’t matter. That conversation made Leonard realize his life was shit, had been shit, and for whatever was left of it, would always be shit.

  Spending day after day working to exhaustion, taking p
ills just to continue the grind, that wasn’t the life for Leonard. His savings and health care costs were so abysmal that retirement wasn’t even on the radar. He wanted more than what he had, but he never realized it until recently. And he knew why; he never knew he had any other option.

  He checked his watch again. 7:28.

  The risk was huge, though. If this was some sort of scam, or hoax, or if something didn’t go as planned, it was life in prison. Even if he ever saw the light of day, he would be a pariah, unable to work again. That’s assuming the people affected by his actions didn’t track him down and publicly lynch him.

  His phone buzzed, breaking his train of thought. He turned on the display, and the small icon at the top indicated he had a text.

  Is it done?

  By habit, he started to reply, but he stopped himself.

  This would be his last opportunity to back out. Leonard didn’t know the consequences for backing out, but even if was death, he at least knew he’d die an innocent man. He hadn’t done anything wrong, anything malicious.

  Yet.

  As he leaned back in his chair looking at the text message, a twinge of pain shot up his arm and into his spine. It was a constant reminder of how unfair life had been to him, how it continually kicked him to the ground, and how he had to always push himself back up, and always alone.

  His wife had left him, taking his kids. Leonard hasn’t seen them in years; travel in his condition wasn’t easy, to say the least. And trying to get them to visit, to take a break from their busy lives, was impossible. Getting them on the phone was difficult enough.

  Would they even miss him, or would they fight over the scraps from his mangled corpse? His siblings had done that when his parents died. All he wanted was a memento, the model train set he and his dad had spent their weekends playing with.

  His younger brother got it in a lottery, only to pawn it for a few hundred dollars.