1 Manic Monday (9 page)

He wondered blithely if maybe they were engineered by
Apple.  The pair he was given had only one button.  It was discreetly
hidden on the inside of the dark frame and was concave. He waited while the
tiny processor went through its initiation programming. 

The elevators opened and he watched from inside its light at
the couple making their way towards the elevators.  He was older, his hair
peppered grey and she was likely the same age but looked a decade
younger.  They were dressed in Beverly Hills chic and holding hands. 

Jake held the doors for them.  Something about them
seemed familiar.  He could not place it.

“Thank you,” the blonde
offered,
her smile genuine.

“No problem.”

The man smiled at him.  They were strangers, but why
did he feel like this scene was so familiar?  He felt a brief flash of
pain and a sense of dizziness.  A thought came unbidden to his mind: 
VANITY.  It was as if the word was written in red stencil across his
eyesight. Jake blinked away the image and almost took off the glasses.  He
had learned long ago to ignore such oddities.  If he pursued them, an
enormous migraine followed.  It was easier and less dangerous to just
ignore them and keep focused on the task at hand. 

He heard the buzzing that signaled that the audio was
connected.  A blue flash arced across his vision as the video technology
and HUD came online. 

“What floor?” The man was almost as tall as him, his
shoulders broad.  His blazer was long and stylish.  His hair was cut
close on the sides.  Jake guessed that he was ex-military.

“Ground, please,” Jake responded.  “Thanks.”

The man punched the buttons for “Ground” and for “Parking
Level Three” with thick, calloused fingers. 

Those are not hands of a businessman,
Jake
noted.  He glanced again at the woman who clutched a small purse to her
abdomen and stared ahead.  He could tell she had caught his glance.

Who were these people?

He could hear the team in New York confirming video and
audio connections.  He was told to look right and then left, up then
down.  Nod his head.  Cough. 
Again.
 
He felt like he was submitting to a physical.  Turn your head.  Bend
over. 
Uncomfortable stuff.
 
Especially with Mr. and Mrs. Beverly Hills standing awkwardly next
to him.

It was a good test of whether the audio and the HUD were
detectable, though.  Someone made some adjustments and the HUD became
fainter, its yellow lines and scrolling information bar fading enough for it to
not make his eyes water. 

The elevator ride ended.  Without a word or a backward
glance, Jake stepped out into the breezeway between the Century Plaza and the
parking garage.  He heard the doors close.  He looked up and
confirmed security cameras.  Red lights were off.  He smiled. 
Holidays were the easiest time to pull off assignments like this.  Lower
staff levels, less witnesses. 
Which made him think of
Mr. and Mrs. Beverly Hills.
 

Were they his back up? 
A counter
assassination team?
 
An internal investigation
team?
  Or did they work for Sinegem?  Regardless, he saw no
one else and they were gone now.  Besides, he needed to check in.

“Monday requesting audio confirmation.
 
Vector New Year 7114E.” 
Who made up this stuff, anyway?

“Confirmed.
 
Base clear.
  Audio and visual confirmation, Vector New
Year,” Violet’s voice always sounded like a robot over transmission.  Jake
smirked.  Ironically, he would rather be talking to Lars.  Maybe he
had been bumped by the Darius Group.

Galbraith Alliance normal protocol was being supplanted, but
that was what he expected for a rogue operation.  He wondered how much of
the operational expenses and personnel, digital and financial cookie crumbs of
this foolishness
was
being reported higher up the
chain.  He pushed it to the back of his mind for now.  Nothing could
stay a secret forever.

“A/V confirmed, check.  Entering in 5, 4, 3....” Jake
walked briskly to the elevator, ignoring the security cameras.  They were
on a loop, anyway.  He glanced right and left as he entered the
building.  “No lookers.”

“No witnesses. 
Confirmed.
 
Heat signatures show negative activity on first three floors. 
Happy New Year.”

Violet was not usually jovial during assignments.  Jake
took it for what it was worth.  She was showing off for the Darius
Group.  He fought the urge to roll his eyes. 
Too
dangerous.
  Maybe it would show up on his heat signature. 

“You too.
  Elevator
operational,” Jake said as the door opened.  He stared straight ahead as
he walked into the elevator and turned, focusing his vision on his right hand
entering the building code to the fourteenth floor.  With his left hand he
extracted a small plastic device with three buttons. He held it behind his
back.

“Confirmation.
 
Elevator uninterrupted to target floor.
  Security code
eng
-
“ As
soon as the doors closed,
he pushed the red button on the device in his hand. His glasses made a sharp
whine and the audio from the other end cut out.

“Hello? 
Monday to Vector New Year.
 
Hello?”  Satisfied, he removed the glasses and placed them in his pocket
for now, remembering at the last moment to hit the button to disconnect. He
knew that he was safe from here on out unless the team chose to turn on the
security cameras.  He was relying on Gary to keep that from
happening. 

The loop that was running on the cameras now was
internal.  That meant that the programming was done locally. 
However, some of the technical folks could figure out that they could remotely
override the internal loop.  He only had five minutes.  His only
other worry was the infernal heat signatures.

As he rode the elevator, he extracted the wet suit and the
ice packs. 

The door opened.  Jake turned right and saw the Vector
Energy suite ahead of him.  This was one of
Sinegem’s
first American acquisitions when it went public.  He entered through the
glass door. He was surprised to see it was already open.  Giselle was in
one of the glass offices speaking to someone on video conference.  She was
shaking her head.  She seemed nervous or upset.

Jake knocked on the glass.  She turned, startled. 
She turned back to the screen, flustered and he watched her make a hurried
excuse and then turned her screen to the side so he could not see.

What is she trying to hide from me?

She got up, and came around to the door.  She had
locked it.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, incredulously. 
She stared at the wet suit he held in his hand.

“I wanted to invite you to go parasailing with me.  I
thought we could head on down to Santa Monica and get wet,” Jake managed,
smiling.

“You are crazy,” she replied.  Her eyes were wide with
fear.  Her nostrils flared. “You are here to kill me!  Aren’t you?”

“No,” he said calmly.  He held out the wet suit to
her.  “Put this on.  I will get you out of here.  We need to
work some things out where it is safe.”

“Safe?  Where do you think in this whole wide world I
am safe?  My security attachment has been pulled.  I know what this
is about, Mr. Monday.”

It hurt him a little that she used his family name.

“You are right.  You are not safe.  Darius wants
to make you an example.  Sinegem seems to not care.  I assume this
has something to do with your failure to recruit me.  Is that right?”

She shook her head.  She was crying now.  Jake
hated it when women cried.  It made him feel so vulnerable. 
So responsible.
 
So guilty.

“It is much bigger than that.  You don’t know.  I
have—“

“We don’t have time now, Giselle. 
Quick.
 
Put this on.  I will turn my back.”  She took the suit from him, the
material slipping from his fingers.  He turned his back and then pulled a
pistol from his bag.  He fired one shot into a cubicle nearby.  The
silencer muffled the majority of the sound, but he could hear Giselle shriek.

He did not turn around.

“I have to make it appear as though I did my job.”

“I don’t understand why I have to put on this thing,” she
complained. She was sobbing.

“They have thermal cameras set up in the building east of
us. I need them to think you died.”

“I died? So you
are
here to kill me!”

It is difficult to be consoling when you have your back
turned
, he thought.

“I’m not, though.  Just put it on and bring your
clothes.”

“What will happen when they discover I am not dead?”

“Let me worry about that.  Here, put on these ice
packs.”  He handed the packs to her.  They were shaped as rings to
fit over wrists, legs and around necks.

Giselle looked at him quizzically.  

“Where?”

Jake tried to remain patient.  Time was slipping
by.  Every second was important.  He tried to ignore the watch on his
arm.  He took a deep breath.

“Around your wrists, over your neck.
 
It will keep your body temperature down for a little while.  In that gear,
your body will heat up quickly.”  He tried to ignore the shape of her body
in the tight-fitting rubber.  She slipped the ice packs on, mumbling.

“Alright.
  Let’s go,” Jake
said, turning toward the door.

“Wait!”  He looked back and she was staring at him, her
eyes wild.  He understood that she had questions.  This was sudden,
this was life-shattering,
this
was awful.  He had
no time for questions, feet dragging, or hesitation.  They needed to move.

“Yes?” he said, trying to keep the ice from his smile.

“I can’t go out like this.  I look ridiculous!” 
She was shaking her head.  She did look odd. 
Odd,
beautiful, sensuous, and frightened.
  Jake was a sucker for a
damsel in distress.

“Put on a coat.  It’s cold outside.”

“Won’t that counteract the suit?  I mean—“

He put his hand to her mouth.  He looked into her eyes.

“You can’t have it both ways.  We don’t have time for
this.  Put the coat on and we will hope that it will lock in the
cold.  The coat doesn’t show up on the cameras.” She nodded, his hand
still on her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. “The longer we stay here, the
easier it will be for them to see that you are still here.  There is no
one on the first three floors, so I need to be the only heat signature they
see.  Okay?  Once we get to the garage, though, we are in the
clear.  They have no heat cameras there.”

Giselle swallowed and nodded.  He removed his hand and
she walked over to the closet and pulled out a long trench coat.  It was a
man’s coat.  Jake could not help but to wonder whose it was.

“Alright, I am ready,” she said, picking up her silver
heels.  She left her underclothes across the desk.  He regretted not
having time to set up a scene.  This would have to do.

“Are you the only one working today?”

“Yes,” she said.  She hesitated, her gaze going to the
terminal in the office.  “I came only to communicate with my superiors at
Sinegem.  They aren’t helping.”

“I know.  Something is wrong.  We will get to the
bottom of it.  Come on.”

He held the door open for her.  Giselle tucked her chin
to her chest and batted her eyes at him.  The ice pack forming around her
neck showed beneath the collar of the trench coat.  She looked like a
proper spy come out from the cold, carrying silver pumps and prepared to
seduce.  He imagined she was very good at her job.

  As they walked the carpeted hall, he heard the
elevator moving.  The doors swished open and the couple he had met earlier
emerged, pistols in hand.  They both had little Bluetooth
mics
in their ears.  Time slowed for Jake and he saw
details.  This is what made him special. 

The man was big, but favored his right leg.  His knee
was weak.  The woman turned her head to the left, tilted down but the
mic
was in her right ear.  She had an equilibrium
problem.  Jake guessed that she had flown in recently and had not
recovered from the pressurization. 

Both pistols were B&T TP-9 semi-auto nine millimeter
machine pistols.  They were handy because stripped down, they were easier
to disguise since many of their exterior parts and magazine were polymer. 
Springs, guide rods, and ammunition could be hidden in separate compartments,
or picked up at the destination.  They were also common weapons, although
more expensive than perhaps a fully automatic
Glock
.
Jake noted that they had the barrel extensions attached to hide flash and
suppress sound.  These extensions added about three grams of weight to the
front of the barrel.  In addition, he noted they did not have an attached
stock or a sling system to give them a more stable platform to assist with
quicker follow up shots. 

With this knowledge, Jake went into motion.  He noted
in his peripheral vision that Giselle had dropped her shoes.  He was not
sure how much he could depend upon her to assist, but he was prepared to end
this threat quickly.  He and Giselle were still racing against the
clock.  These two did not seem to be pros.  He wondered again who
sent them.  Hired
mercs
was his best
guess. 
Security personnel, maybe.

“Stop right there!” The man shouted.  He aimed his
pistol with both hands.

Jake held up his hands as he stepped forward again. 
The man began to lower his weapon and the woman fanned out to his left, closer
to the wall, her pistol trained on him.  They were ignoring Giselle. 
He turned his head and Giselle was there holding a gun to his head.