by Frank Morin
For the first time he actually looked worried. “So they were following you.”
“What does that mean?”
Tomas stepped out of the car and she did the same. He collected her bags and led the way toward the exit stairs. “Those people I mentioned you might have upset after Alterego? They’re very powerful, but I had hoped they’d overlook your involvement. They’ve been hunting Eirene and her husband for decades. Now that she’s free, I figured they’d focus on her.”
That was the last thing Sarah wanted to hear. She had only known Eirene a short time, but she felt a connection with the woman. The thought of Mai Luan and those gunmen hunting Eirene terrified Sarah as much as the thought they had followed her onto the plane. If she didn’t need Eirene so badly, she’d suggest they take the next flight to Rome and leave this crazy town behind. Mai Luan terrified her more than anything, and she didn’t want to be anywhere around the woman.
“Eirene’s husband?” she asked instead.
“Gregorios.”
He had mentioned that name in the vault when he had first extracted Eirene’s unincorporated face from its little coffin.
“Who is he?”
Tomas’ phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and grunted. “That’s him.”
Live because you will die tomorrow. Learn because you will live forever.
~Mahatma Gandhi
Chapter Seven
Tomas flagged down a cab and told the driver to take them to the downtown business district. He looked relaxed during the drive. The cab driver turned out to be one of the chatty types, and between the two of them, they spent the drive pointing out landmarks and explaining the rich history of the area.
Sarah struggled to match Tomas’ outward calm. She held her hands in her lap to disguise the tremors that still shook her from the near-shooting. How Tomas could act so casual after killing a man was another mystery, one she wasn’t as eager to delve into. He’d saved her life again, but who drove around town with guns under their seats and fought off machine-gun-wielding criminals?
Sarah had long wanted to visit New Orleans and tried to enjoy the ride, despite her lingering fear that gunmen would appear around every turn and shoot them all while they sat helpless in the cab. She kept seeing the gunman sagging in his harness, covered in blood. Her hands shook again from delayed shock. Tomas took her hand in his and rubbed her shaking fingers.
“Thank you,” Sarah said, surprised by how much his touch helped calm her.
“Welcome to the Big Easy,” he said.
“Not so easy,” she chuckled, and more of her tension eased.
“We’re on Canal Street,” he said, pointing to beautiful old buildings on each side.
“Skirting the French Quarter now,” the cabbie piped in. “Basin Street over there is where Louis Armstrong grew up.” He pointed out a couple of famous theaters with huge, neon marquee signs, as well as the street cars running up the center of the street.
As they moved deeper into the area, Sarah felt a growing excitement. There was an energy in the air that thrummed against her hyper-alert nerves. It was coupled by a renewed feeling of wanting to look over her shoulder constantly.
They passed a brass band playing on the corner of Canal and Bourbon Streets, with a crowd gathered to listen. That feeling of excitement intensified, but Sarah’s shoulders itched like she was being watched.
Tomas caught her glancing back. “You feel it don’t you?”
“I feel something,” she admitted. “I thought it was just me.”
“No, ma’am,” the cabbie laughed. “That’s the vibe of New Orleans you’re feeling. Gets even stronger near the river.”
“It’s part of the city,” Tomas agreed. “You get used to it pretty fast, but you’ll notice it every time you return.”
The cab pulled to the curb near a parking garage for Harrah’s Casino. She had heard of that landmark before. She thanked the cabbie as Tomas paid the bill, and the man wished them luck at the poker tables.
Instead of heading for the casino, Tomas led her into the parking garage. “You know, there’s a great local band playing tonight I’d like to catch after dinner.”
She’d noticed several groups playing at street corners. Music seemed to be a huge part of New Orleans. Usually she’d be thrilled to explore that, but today the idea felt surreal.
She worked on matching his calm as she followed him up to the second level of the parking garage. When they exited the stairs, he took her hand and walked the long line of cars. A man stepped out of the shadows behind a dark SUV five cars away, and Sarah tensed, ready to dive to the ground or run for the exit.
Tomas squeezed her hand and continued toward the stranger. “It’s all right.”
Sarah studied the man who at first looked unremarkable. Young, with curly hair, probably in his twenties. She had only known Eirene for one afternoon, but such a young man couldn’t be her husband.
As he drew closer, she realized her initial appraisal was wrong. His face looked too mature for his body, although it fit pretty well. Only when she thought to look for it did she notice the tiny signs that he was not wearing his birthday suit. The skin along his jaw was stretched a little too tight in some places, bunched up in extra wrinkles in a couple others. A shadow at the corner of his chin could easily be mistaken for a spot that needed shaving, but it wasn’t. None of those little marks would mean anything to anyone else, but she knew what they meant.
“Sarah, I’d like to introduce Gregorios.”
Gregorios took her hand and bowed over it in a manner that might have been popular a very long time ago. His dark eyes were deep and piercing.
“I’ve heard a great deal about you, Sarah.”
She actually blushed. “Thank you. It’s a pleasure.”
He didn’t look worried, even though Tomas had suggested Eirene might be in danger. He popped open the SUV’s rear hatch. The tinted windows reminded her of the van they only recently avoided, and goosebumps rippled down her arms in a fresh wave of unease.
Gregorios handed a dark blue, lightweight jacket to Tomas. “Eirene’s car is one level up.”
“Any sign of surveillance?” Tomas asked as he donned the jacket.
“None. We’ll scout on foot.”
Tomas checked the big pistol he’d taken from his car. He slipped it into a simple holster that he tucked into his waistband. Gregorios handed Tomas another holstered pistol that he slipped into his jacket. The two men checked ammunition with practiced efficiency, and Sarah’s forced calm started to crack. They were preparing for another armed confrontation, right there in the parking garage. She reached into her purse and felt for the reassuring bulk of her pepper spray. It felt pitifully inadequate.
“Stay behind us and try to keep quiet,” Gregorios said, giving her a reassuring smile as he slammed a magazine home. “It’ll be all right.”
Then he and Tomas led the way up the sloping ramp toward the next level. Sarah trailed them by about ten feet, not wanting to draw too close in case they needed to use those guns, but not wanting to fall behind in the dim expanse of the parking garage either. The two men walked casually and drew no attention to themselves. The drivers of the few cars that passed focused almost entirely on Sarah anyway. She was just happy the glimpses she caught of the passing motorists revealed nothing threatening.
When they reached the third level, they slipped behind a lifted pick-up and spent ten minutes staring down the length of the parking bay. Whenever the area was clear of pedestrians, they used binoculars and even a heat-sensing scope.
“Which car is hers?” Sarah asked.
“Silver Toyota,” Tomas replied.
It sat most of the way down the garage and looked completely unremarkable. Eventually Sarah got bored with the whole clandestine surveillance. “Maybe she just got delayed?”
Gregorios shook his head. “She triggered a distress signal from a nearby hotel, but the transmission cut off after less than a minute.”
“No
t good,” Tomas said.
Gregorios added, “I monitored the building for over an hour before you arrived but saw nothing to suggest they’ve moved her.”
Sarah asked, “Do you think she’s ...?” She couldn’t finish the sentence. It was just too awful.
“Unlikely,” Gregorios said. “But if her body was fatally damaged, under most circumstances she could sever her link with it.”
Despite living the lie of Alterego for so long, Sarah knew so little about the real world of these people. Gregorios seemed to consider the idea of his wife dying little more than an inconvenience. Sarah hadn’t realized facetakers could abandon their bodies at will, but there was so much still to learn. What other aspects of facetaker powers did she need to understand if she was going to talk Eirene into helping her restore those victims of the company they’d helped destroy?
How many times had Eirene abandoned her body in the past?
How old were they?
Alterego had made billions selling access to temporary youth, but for the first time, sarah really considered the fact that facetakers could just take another body when they grew old, sick, or injured. Barring something catastrophic like getting squashed by a runaway train, was there any limit to how long they could keep it up?
She glanced at Gregorios again and he suddenly appeared far more mysterious than he had a moment ago.
How did Tomas fit in? He was no facetaker, but he was also not the medical tech he had pretended to be at Alterego. The two men clearly had experience working together. One more mystery she vowed to unravel when they got to Rome.
Tomas spoke. “We need to insert, determine if she’s been dispossessed.”
“Agreed.”
The two men headed for the stairs and Sarah hurried to catch up. She took Tomas’ hand as they returned to the SUV. “You’re going to enter a building where you’re pretty sure something bad happened to Eirene?”
“Yes.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“We talked about that,” Tomas said. “Even if we got them to respond soon and they’re not already working for the people responsible, they’d likely run into resistance in there.”
“That’s exactly why we should call them.”
“I know this is hard to deal with. I had hoped to spare you getting further involved, but you remember what Mai Luan did in the vault?”
She shivered. “How could I forget?” Even after getting blown up, Tased, and stabbed, the woman had kept coming.
“What do you think would happen to normal police officers walking into a situation like that?”
“You don’t think she’s in there, do you?”
If Mai Luan might be in the hotel, Sarah really worried for Eirene’s safety. She still had nightmares about Mai Luan.
“Unlikely,” Gregorios said. “She would pose an exceptional risk, but chances are slim to none we’ll encounter her. She’s not the only threat out there, though.”
“All reasons we can’t call the police,” Tomas added. “And that’s why you should probably stay here until we get back.”
Sarah began shaking her head before he finished speaking. Parking garages felt spooky on a good day. With the strange New Orleans vibe setting her already-jittery nerves twitching, there was no way she was going to stay there alone with murderous gunmen wandering around. The shooter had known to follow her onto the plane. What if they had tracked her somehow to this place? Alone she wouldn’t stand a chance. She planned to stay close to Tomas until she understood what was going on and why someone wanted to kill her.
More importantly, she feared for Eirene. If the attack on Eirene was tied to the recent gunman in the van, helping Eirene would also help her find answers.
“I think it’s better if I stay close.”
“It’ll probably be dangerous.”
The comment triggered a surprise flash of anger. She had not risked her life to escape Alterego and regain her own body just to have some nameless thugs kill her. Let her useless brothers live lives of anonymity, too afraid to take any risks in life. She refused to accept that fate.
“Tomas, you said yourself the same people who tried to kill us are probably the ones hunting her. Do you really think I’ll be safer anywhere else?”
Gregorios said, “It’d be better to introduce you to our world a little more gently, but you’re already a target. We don’t have time to waste arguing about it. We can use your help anyway. Follow my lead, and we’ll try to make this as quick and simple as possible.”
“I wish we had a full team,” Tomas said.
“If wishes were omelets ...” Gregorios said
Sarah didn’t get that one.
Tomas shrugged. “I’d feel more confident if we had our battle suits.”
“That I can agree with,” Gregorios said. Then he turned to Sarah. “Have any nice outfits in that bag of yours?”
“Uh, yes. Why?”
“Time to play tourist.”
If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats people during his second life.
~Elvis
Chapter Eight
Sarah entered the Queen’s Court hotel, and for a moment excitement pushed back the tension knotting her shoulders. She knew it was stupid, but assaulting such a gorgeous hotel somehow helped her feel more confident. Whoever they were after had great taste.
Dressed in a form-hugging skirt and matching blouse, she attracted lots of attention. With Tomas half a step behind, she passed through the elegant salon, taking her time to appreciate the artwork and draw as many eyes as possible.
She was good at it. She had not been Alterego’s number five top-rated model for nothing. With her perfectly proportioned curves, smooth skin and thick hair, she’d been marketed as ‘The All American Girl’.
No one paid any attention to Gregorios, dressed in a delivery uniform and wheeling two large roller bags behind Tomas as she led the trio toward the elevator. Inside, they rode to the ninth floor.
“Why the ninth?” Sarah asked.
“Always been my lucky number,” Gregorios said.
“I thought seven was lucky.”
“Not for me. Some lives are better left un-lived.”
After exiting the elevator, they found an empty hall. Gregorios knocked on one door and, when there was no answer, he produced a small silver box with a hotel key card extending from the bottom. He inserted it into the lock. A light turned green and with a soft click the door unlocked.
They slipped inside a comfortable suite. Thankfully it was empty, with two suitcases in the extensive closet and clothing belonging to a couple with terrible taste in colors.
“This feels weird,” Sarah said. She had suggested renting a room but Tomas had explained they didn’t want to leave a paper trail.
“We’re not staying,” Tomas assured her as Gregorios opened the roller bags and started extracting gear.
“We should,” she said. “I mean some other time. I like this hotel.”
While the men donned bulletproof vests, strapped on double shoulder holsters, and covered it all surprisingly well with a pair of custom leather jackets, Sarah slipped into the bathroom and changed into slacks. When she emerged, Tomas was loading one holster with an odd, double-barreled pistol.
“I’ve never seen a pistol like that,” Sarah said. “What model is it?”
“Insurance.”
Gregorios donned a similar set of weapons. “Customized design of ours to deal with the special nature of the threat. We call it the Final Transfer.”
Sarah approached and touched the odd weapon. “I’ve done a fair bit of shooting, but I’ve never seen anything like it. What caliber is it?”
Tomas handed it over. It was lighter than she’d expected from the size of the barrels. It bore no manufacturer stamp or serial number, just a strange symbol. It looked like a stick figure of a man with no legs.
She touched the symbol. It looked familiar. “You draw on your toys when you get bo
red?”
“That’s an Egyptian hieroglyph. Ankh. It’s the key of life.”
“Strange symbol to mark on a gun.”
“It’ll make sense some day,” Tomas said. He dropped the magazines from the unique weapon and showed her the strange darts they held. “It shoots a non-lethal mix.”
The first dart was black and felt like rubber. “This one delivers a powerful electric shock. Wrecks muscle control for a few seconds.”
He pointed to the second. “This one pumps out a potent mix of fast-acting drugs. A mix of paralytics, tranquilizers, and sleep agents.” It was red, and Sarah declined to touch it.
She frowned. “How do you know you get the right dose?”
“The only people we shoot with these can handle it,” Tomas said. “Trust me.”
“Well let’s hope you don’t have to shoot anyone up there,” she said.
“Best to be prepared,” Tomas said, taking the weapon back and slamming the magazines home. “Or it could be us getting the final transfer. We’ll use non-lethal first.”
Then he tucked his original H&K pistol into the other holster. “But always keep the forty-five as back-up.”
After they loaded more gear into various pockets, Tomas handed Sarah a slender canister about the size of a bottle of hair spray, along with a pair of silicon ear plugs.
“What’s this?”
“Bear spray. About ten times more potent than that mace you carry. Just in case.”
“You’re so thoughtful.”
Her flippant tone sounded weak even to her and she tried to keep a tight rein on her growing tension as she slipped it into her deep coat pocket.
“Never say I don’t give you things.”
Did she really volunteer to join these two? They were preparing for pitched battle in a high-class hotel. The whole situation was beginning to feel like a crazy dream.
He’d better give her lots of answers after they got out of there.
Tomas helped her wedge the ear plugs into her ears. “These’ll block any loud noises but not interfere with normal hearing.”