“Dimi?” Lorna asked, and he looked up from his paper to see them all looking at him. He’d missed some question.
“Whatever you decide is fine,” he said in a bored voice. “None of that is my expertise. Can I go over the security plan for the mixer?”
“Dude, you need to unwind. Life isn’t all work, you know,” Kensley said, patting his hand. They laughed, since they all had the same workaholic tendencies.
He took them through his plan, which was not much different from every other mixer he’d ever supervised. He didn’t have to put much thought into his job these days, which was probably a bad thing.
Once they’d gone around the table to report on each area, Yuki slapped her hands together.
“As you know, we’ve finally found the one who I think can lure Sota Makkeido into our trap,” she began, “with the ultimate outcome being his ruin.”
“What is it about Anya that makes her the perfect lure?” Kensley asked.
“He’s never been known to be with a Russian, and Makkeido has a world domination view when it comes to women,” Lorna said, tapping her pen absently on the table.
“Exotic, mysterious women. Smart women,” Yuki emphasized.
“Exotic, how?” he asked.
“Anya has a look that I know he likes,” Yuki insisted, “right down to her hair color. He collects women. She’s what’s missing in his collection.”
It’s what they did, and had been doing for years—matching wealthy clients with their perfect sexual partners. Like all the clients and consultants, everyone at Cavendish went through the testing process. Each of them at the table had participated at the events, had their own Engagements. It had been a fun perk until it got boring.
But hearing them talk about Anya, especially the importance Yuki put on her, didn’t sit easy with him. Their policy was that nobody got hurt and everybody was satisfied. He had no reason to think it wouldn’t be the case for Anya, except for the gleam in Yuki’s eye.
“Our policy is one hundred percent client satisfaction, which requires the same from our consultants. Is that the case with Anya and Makkeido?” he asked, and all eyes turned to Yuki.
She shrugged.
“Of course. Why would it be different?”
“Assuming we follow the regular protocol, and they’re both enough of a match, what happens next?” Merrill asked.
“We’ll build a mythology around Anya. Makkeido cares about rarities, and we’ll make her the rarest of all gems. He has a maze of handlers around him, so we’ll reach out through the channels we’ve been cultivating to get the word out. We’ll leak it in tantalizing bits. He’ll come to us through someone close to him. Eventually, we’ll make contact and compromise him.”
“Compromise him how?” he asked.
“Videos. Photos. Lies. And blackmail.” She picked up and played with the pen in front of her, her gaze riveted to it as she spoke. “He’s over-leveraged himself in some of his South Asian holdings, and several boards are whispering about ousting him as CEO. It won’t take much. Any loss of power for him is humiliating. When he loses enough power, he’ll break.”
Dimi looked at the other women in the room, realizing only Yuki still had the burning sense of revenge that had been the igniting force of the company close to a decade ago.
“And that’s all that’s in the plan? Photos and video… and no more involvement from the consultant?” he asked.
“Of course,” she murmured, the pen still turning and turning in her hands.
“I’d better get back to work then,” he said, gathering the papers in front of him.
“Dimi,” Yuki said, snapping out of her trance. “I know you handle the codenames, but I have the one for Anya.”
“What is it?”
“Saigo,” she said, a hard smile curling her lips. “It means ‘last.’”
* * *
Dimi tossed his folder onto his desk in the command center. He’d given up the bigger office to Jones, as a sign of respect for the rest of the security team, taking the smaller one beside it.
It was all part of his exit strategy, but now he wondered if he should stay until he saw Yuki’s plan through to its conclusion.
“Everything good, boss?” Jones asked, leaning against the doorframe of his office.
“Three new recruits this week, and a mixer this weekend. Same old shit,” he said, leaning back and straightening his tie.
“I know the new consultants are your area, but is there anything I can do?”
“You already do everything except the deep background and consultant setup. But I appreciate the offer.” He looked up at him, noticing his eyes looked on the red side. “Are you okay?”
“I’m feeling a little under the weather, is all. I might knock off early today and get some rest. Is that okay?”
“Of course. You know Dr. Muir’s policy. No working sick.”
Jones gave him a nod and returned to his office.
Dimi hadn’t been joking. Running security for Cavendish Seattle was a huge job. They had over a hundred staff running the properties, the events, and the personnel. The corner he’d left himself involved the consultants, which was the most sensitive area.
He pulled out the folders for the three recruits, putting Anya’s on the bottom.
Elliot Miller was from San Diego. He was a referral from one of their top consultants in Florida. He looked like a model.
Liz Randall was a college gymnast from Santa Cruz. He looked closer at her sheet. And an amateur opera singer? That could put the drawing room at the manor to good use, finally. And bring in the string quartet they barely used anymore. He liked classical music.
His phone rang just as he got to Anya’s file. It was Lorna.
“We have a situation,” she said without saying hello.
* * *
He walked back into their meeting space in the attic of the manor. Kensley and Merrill were gone, leaving Yuki and Lorna staring at him from their seats around the table. He stayed standing.
“One of Anya’s potentials has a new item on his medical record,” Lorna said without preamble.
“What is it?”
“He’s seeing a new psychiatrist. One that specializes in personality disorders.”
“Are you able to get more details?” he asked.
“I’m trying,” Lorna said.
“In the meantime,” Yuki inserted, standing up and putting her hands on her hips, “I want her to either stay on longer at the compound or put in a higher level security zone in the city.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “Is that it? You could have told me this on the phone.”
“I’m…. We’re,” Yuki corrected herself, motioning to Lorna and then looking back to drill him with her eyes. “We’re thinking of making you Anya’s evaluator.”
The breath left his body.
“Fine,” he said, forcing his eyes not to blink.
“Damn,” Yuki breathed.
“I knew it!” Lorna chirped, slapping her leg.
“Dammit!” Yuki yelled this time, shaking her head. “You cost me fifty bucks!” she accused him.
“How did I do that?”
“Because I thought there was no way you’d be into her, but you obviously are.” She dropped back into her chair, looking at Lorna. “His pupils totally dilated, just like you said they would.”
Lorna, however, looked at him sympathetically.
“Dimi, if Anya wasn’t so obviously into you, we wouldn’t suggest it. It’s probably better for there to be less attraction, but… what the hell. You haven’t had sex in ages. And even I can tell you’re into her, too.”
He frowned at her, but she held up a hand.
“I asked Dr. Muir about your last physical. How can you not know that everybody knows everybody’s business around here?” she asked with a laugh.
He clenched his jaw and turned around to leave.
“I’ll email you the details, although we might want to re-test you in the suit jus
t to make sure,” Lorna called out.
11
Anya sat in the back of the four-person golf cart, listening to Elliot and Liz chatter between themselves and their driver. To give him credit, the driver didn’t respond to any of their questions.
“I totally want to fuck some hottie in that treehouse,” Elliot said. He reclined in the front seat, his foot resting on the plastic dashboard and his hand loosely holding the handle above him.
“I want to dress up like an 18th century lady and live the rest of my life in that manor house,” Liz said. Her sun-streaked curls were pulled into a loose bun at her neck, and she wore a pink and red-striped sundress and sweater. “The acoustics are probably amazing. What about you, Anya?”
“I’d love to see the Topkapi Palace,” she replied. “I’ve heard the real one has gorgeous Byzantine mosaics in it.”
The cart pulled up to the medical center and they all got out. Lorna wasn’t there, but another woman met them at the door. She ushered Elliot and Liz to where Dr. Muir stood with Dr. Marsha, who both greeted her.
Another woman exited behind them, excusing herself and making her way over to Anya. Her white lab coat covered a pale pink dress made out of gauzy material. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and a smile that took up much of her face. It was unsettling up close.
“Hi, Anya, I’m Merrill Knight. I’m going to take you through your bio-haptic testing.” She held out her hand, and Anya shook it. “Follow me.”
She led her through a door in another cubicle and down a short hallway, different from the one she went down yesterday.
Merrill opened a heavy door and waited for her to enter a very small room. Lights overhead clinked and illuminated one at a time.
The room was painted black. There was an armchair in the center and a console behind it. The chair faced a large screen about ten feet away. The narrow room couldn’t have been bigger than fifteen by twelve feet.
Merrill reached around to pick up a clear bag from the chair.
“This is your haptic suit,” she said, opening a snap and pulling out a small yellow bundle that was covered in silver lines and dots. She shook it and it fell open, looking like a very small nylon onesie. “Don’t worry; it’s very stretchy.” She lifted an arm and stretched it to demonstrate.
“That’s amazing,” Anya breathed, lifting the other sleeve to examine it. The silver was on both sides of the fabric, resembling a giant circuit board. Looking at the front, it looked like a large maze that became denser in various areas.
The lines formed a circle around where her breasts would be and also congested down at the crotch area.
“Here’s how this test works. You put the suit on, sit in the chair, and watch a ten-minute video. The suit has leads that connect to the console.” She turned the suit to the back. At the waistline, the maze of silver lines met at a solid bar of silver, which was implanted with flat snaps.
Merrill picked up a harness with wires from the console and snapped it into place.
“Like that.”
“Huh,” she said, running her eyes back over the suit. “Ingenious.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Merrill flashed her huge smile again. “It’s kind of my life’s achievement. We patented the design and have them made at a plant we built in Tennessee.”
“So… ten minutes and that’s it?” she asked, wanting there to be more to it than that.
“Ten minutes for the first video. We monitor everything your body does in reaction to what you see, hear, and smell. You get a two-minute break to stand and walk, but not too far. Then you watch the video again. Only this time, the suit is sending you signals.”
“Shocks? Or something like small vibrations, like smart watches do?”
“I can’t give anything away or it will ruin the test. But I can tell you it’s nothing that hurts. Now for the part most subjects find… unusual,” she said and pulled a plastic wrapper out of her lab coat’s pocket. “I’ll need you to snap these sensors into the crotch of the suit.” She held open the suit to show her the receptors and the reinforced strip they were mounted to. “Then when you put on the suit, make sure this one is inserted into your vagina, and the narrower one is inserted into your anus. The anterior wing in the suit is narrower and should slip in against your clitoris. Once the sensors are inserted, this narrow middle section should be snug against your perineum. Are you comfortable with that?”
Anya took the plastic-wrapped sensors from her. The larger one was about three inches long and circular, about an inch in diameter. She squeezed it, feeling a firm core surrounded by rubber. The second was smaller but made of the same material.
“I think so,” she said and truthfully was fascinated.
“Weird, I know. This is usually the part where people get nervous. Thank God you’re pre-med. One time, I had to explain what the perineum was.”
Anya didn’t know how to reply, so she just nodded.
“Where do I change?”
“Across the hall.”
Anya walked out and across the hall to the changing room. She took off all her clothes and slid her feet into the footed bottoms, unwrapping the rubber sensors and inserting them into the suit and herself as directed.
She slid her arms into the sleeves, her fingers sliding into gloves at the ends. The silky feel of it against her skin made her nipples pucker, which made the suit easy to settle over her breasts. The circuit lines thinned and gathered in a natural circle to cover her nipples.
Last, she pulled the hood up and over her head, feeling it slide low over her eyebrows. She pulled the thin zipper up the middle to just below her bottom lip, where the suit naturally tucked in and around her chin.
She returned to the dark room where Merrill was holding a straight harness where a stream of wires was attached.
“Turn please,” she said cheerfully, and Anya felt her attach each snap one by one to the suit just above her tailbone. “All right, walk around to the front of the chair. Are the sensors seated properly?”
“I believe so,” she answered, maneuvering carefully as Merrill held the harness. She sat back in the comfortable armchair, and Merrill guided the bundle of leads through a notched part of the armrest.
“Excellent.” She walked around to face Anya, scanning the fit of the suit. She adjusted the pattern of circuits around her breasts slightly and tugged a bit to the left of her crotch but otherwise seemed pleased.
“I didn’t know what to do with my hair, so I left it.”
“That’s fine. If we’re detecting activity, we can do a second test with the skull cap, but usually it’s not needed.” Merrill nodded, satisfied, and slipped her hands in her pockets, her broad smile showing up again. “Relax. There’s no passing or failing this test; it’s all about finding out what stimulates your brain and your body.”
“I’m looking forward to learning that too.”
“I knew you were my kind of girl.” She laughed. “Most people think they know what attracts them, but the most shocking thing that happens isn’t in the chair. It’s sitting at a table looking at the results. I’ll be observing from a room behind you. If at any time you’re uncomfortable, there are buttons right near your thumb—see them?”
Anya slid her hands off the wide armrest and quickly located smooth, plastic buttons under either thumb. They felt like the buttons for the flippers of a pinball machine.
“Once we’re going, pressing either of those buttons will shut down the whole test. To start with, though, keep your hands flat and on top. Ready to go?”
“Yes,” she answered, the word breathless. The suit felt almost transparent, and sitting in front of this woman felt almost sensual.
“Excellent,” Merrill said and walked away. Anya heard the faint whisper of doors closing. Then the lights dimmed.
The video opened with a shot of a field of wildflowers. She heard birds and wind rustling the stems. A light gust of air brushed past her face, making her eyes widen. A sweet smell followed after. The camera star
ted amongst the flowers, pushing through the stalks, climbing to push through the flowers, then hovering inches above them and looking down.
Then the camera shot into the sky, the sound of wind filling the room. She felt her stomach pitch, as if she were on a rollercoaster, and she gasped. The screen went black.
“That’s perfect, Anya. Sorry, but we do a little test like that to make sure the circuits on the suit are being picked up. We’re ready for the main test… now.”
An image faded into view on the screen. This time, it was a man waiting at a bus stop. The air brakes of the bus sounded behind her, and the man jumped up, yelling and running off screen.
The video cut to a woman eating an ice cream, laughing. Then a couple in an alley, groping each other and kissing. Then a dog running through a park to catch a frisbee. Then two women, holding hands as they walked down a sidewalk, pausing to kiss each other.
Next, an older man was putting vegetables out in a stand, then one man was holding another man around the neck, a hand hovering close by with a knife.
The videos changed pace. Some were longer, slower; some were shorter and faster. Some were in slow motion. They had sounds and music and dialogue she could sometimes make out, sometimes not. She could smell the bread of a bakery, feel the light wet sting of mist from waves on a pier.
There was a slow-motion video of a man gagged and bound with his hands behind his back, a naked woman dragging a riding crop down his back and across the crack of his ass. She could smell the leather. Then there was a naked woman swimming, climbing out of the pool, and stroking her huge breasts.
In the next video, a group of people crowded around a dinner table, eating and laughing. Then a camera was approaching an older woman asleep in bed. There was a flash and then the dinner party people were there again, naked and kissing each other, stroking and touching whatever their hands could reach.
She tried to relax, but her breathing kept wanting to accelerate. Some of the images made her lick her lips, some let her recover, and a few made her cringe.
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