The Lives of Tao (12 page)

Still, he and Chako had been in this same spot for almost seventy hours now, only switching off to stretch and get food. Ray was sure the car was getting rather pungent with two unwashed men practically living in it. Another day though and their replacements would come. He’d had similar assignments in the past; uncomfortable, but it was the life he led. A lifetime ago, when he used to work for the DEA, Ray had spent nearly a week observing a Mexican freighter until the drug deal went down. This job at least was close to fresh coffee. In any case, it was better than sleeping on his ex-wife’s couch in Detroit.

The garage was mostly empty of cars, except for a dozen or so scattered around the lot. Ray had a direct view of the vessel’s car. Ray rubbed his eyes and shook his head, trying to ward off sleep. He’d give Chako another hour before waking him to change shifts. If he was lucky, the vessel would appear and he’d be the one to capture him. Then his ascension to a Holy One would almost be assured. After six years with the Genjix, he might actually become one of them. His life would change then. Ray shifted again in his seat, massaging his numb legs, trying to work some circulation back into them.

A figure wearing a parka came down the stairs and walked toward the vessel’s car. Ray took out his binoculars and studied him. He couldn’t make out his face, but he was the right size. Ray nudged Chako. “We got a hit.”

Chako was instantly alert, peering out the windshield. “A little warm this time of year for a parka, would you say?” he said.

“To the point of it being unusual,” Ray replied. “Looks like he’s trying to hide his face. We might have our vessel here. Go check it out. I’ll cover you.” Ray touched his earpiece and reported in. “We have a possible hit moving toward the vehicle. Verifying now. Stand by.”

Ray pulled out his pistol while Chako got out of the car and sauntered towards the figure. It had to be the mark. Who else would come at four in the morning? The figure by now had reached the Ford and was peeking through the driver’s side window. Ray got out of the car and knelt next to the front tires, his gun trained at the possible vessel’s shoulder. He had to be careful with his shot. Marc was explicit about taking him alive.

Chako had reached the figure by now and they were exchanging words. Ray was too far away to make out what they were saying. Then suddenly, Chako reached into his pocket and fell. Ray heard the distinct sound of a silenced pistol go off in the otherwise quiet garage. Ray took careful aim and squeezed the trigger, hitting the vessel.

The parka-clad figure collapsed out of view behind another parked car. Ray stayed low and moved to the next aisle, and found Chako lying face down on the floor. Lying next to him was a gray parka. Immediately, Ray ducked behind cover and scanned the area. This vessel was supposed to be new! The Prophus must have gotten to him. He moved behind the vessel’s car and looked for any signs of movement.

After several minutes, Ray decided to get out of the open and retreated back to his car. Whoever was here was very quiet; obviously a trained agent. He’d have to drive the car up to Chako, get the body in, and get out of here. Otherwise, he was a sitting duck.

Ray got to the driver’s side, opened the door, and slid in. Just as he sat down, a figure appeared from the back seat and slugged him in the side of the face. Ray fell out of the car and onto the floor. Immediately, he got up and reached for his gun. The figure knocked it out of his hand and gave him a sharp blow to the neck. Ray gasped for air as he slammed into the concrete wall.

The dark figure approached. He was short and slim, and wore a hood shadowing his face.

Ray blindly lashed out, swinging with his fists. The first blow caught his assailant in the forehead. He heard a woman’s voice as she grunted and blocked the second and third punch. Then she came forward with her right elbow and smashed his nose, breaking it. Blood flowed down his face as he fell back against the wall again. This definitely was not the new vessel. Ray swung a desperate right hook. She danced out of the way and connected with a kick to Ray’s midsection, followed by a leg sweep that sent him crashing to the floor.

The figure got on top of him and jammed a gun into his cheek. He could smell the aroma of mint gum as she spoke. “Weeks of surveillance, two agents sitting in a car, Homeland Security access. This is above and beyond your usual hunt orders. Why do the Genjix care so much about this host?” Ray tried to roll over and push her off, but she just pistol-whipped him twice on the face, the second swing cracking his cheek bone. “Unless you guys found a discount broker, Homeland network access can’t be cheap,” she said. “Answer me, Genjix.”

“Go to hell, bitch,” Ray snarled, his vision obscured by the blood pouring from his broken nose.

“You first.” She pistol-whipped him again. “This is for going against your own species.” The Prophus agent pulled the earpiece out of his ear and spoke in it. “You have two dead bodies and two hours before rush hour begins. Clean up your trash.” That was the last thing Ray heard before she pulled the trigger.

Sonya drove up to the apartment building and parked on a side street. She took off the bloodstained outfit and changed into her workout clothes. It was some time until dawn and the streets were still quiet.

She checked the mirror and wiped the blood off her face. There was a cut above her eyebrow where the Genjix agent’s ring had cut her. She frowned and shook her head in disgust; always the face. Getting caught like that by such an amateur was sloppy work. She went into her first aid kit and applied some hydrogen peroxide on it. Her hands trembled as she dabbed her cut.

Though she’d been with the Prophus for four years, she was still new enough to fieldwork to get the shakes. The old-timers said that’d go away with time. Sonya clenched her fists and took a deep breath. When she felt calmer, she finished up her patch job. She probably wouldn’t need stitches. She checked her handiwork in the mirror, grabbed her laptop, and typed up a few notes.

Relay the Homeland expenditures. The Genjix are spending a small fortune on this job. Maybe we can find the source on the inside and cut it off.
 

Sonya nodded. “If the Genjix have been tracking this new host through Homeland, I want to get a map of all the street cameras. The new host can avoid detection better if he knows where not to walk around with his face exposed.”

Good idea. Are you sure you want to start this assignment this morning? You have had very little sleep lately.
 

Sonya craned her neck and stretched. “I am a little jet-lagged, but it’s nothing I haven’t done before. I was looking forward to that time off in the Caymans – but it’s nice to be back in Chicago. It’s been almost two years. Tell Command they still owe me a vacation. A training assignment shouldn’t be too tough. I haven’t had the chance to read the new host’s file. I assume you did during the flight? Why do you think they want this new host so badly?”

I have read the file. This one will be more work than you think. The Quasing is Tao. Several in the Genjix Council have a vested interest in him. They would love to get their claws around that troublemaker.
 

“Sounds like my kind of Quasing.” Sonya got out of the car and walked into the building. Tao sounded familiar, like a name she heard in the distant past. “Did Tao work with Mother before?”

Dania was Tao’s previous host’s mentor. They worked together for many years. I believe you two met when you were very young.
 

Sonya chuckled. “And now I get to mentor his new host. How poetic.”

Let us just hope things turn out better for both of you than it did for Dania and Edward.
 

“I’ve heard of Edward. I think Dania and he did pretty well for themselves in the organization.”

I was referring to both of you living a long life.
 

The elevator dinged and opened onto the twentieth floor. Sonya walked out and looked around. “So what’s the scoop on this trainee? We can’t just send him to our boot camp? Is he police or National Guard?”

Worse. The Keeper’s report says he’s a civilian, an unimpressive one at that. Your main focus will be physical readiness at first, followed by hand-to-hand combat, then firearms, then squad tactics. The Keeper stresses that he needs to be up to speed quickly. Someone in the Genjix hierarchy is willing to spend significant resources to find him.
 

Sonya smiled. “Ooh, nice. A complete build from scratch. I’m going to enjoy this. Will he require a protection detail?”

You are it. This unit on the right.
 

“Still doesn’t seem too bad. He shouldn’t take up more than half my time. I guess a vacation in Chicago is as good as any.”

Chicago is a hotbed of Genjix activity. There will be more work here, I am sure.
 

Sonya checked her watch and then knocked on the door. There was a rustling sound on the other side. She waited another second before knocking again. If she had to cancel a two-week beach vacation, the new host would have to deal with waking up early. Finally, the door opened and a tall thin man with brown hair and a pretty face appeared.

“Not our host?”

The roommate. Antonio Desilarez.
 

“Too bad. He’s kind of cute.”

“Hi.” Sonya smiled. “I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, but...” She stopped. Antonio was gaping at her as if she had suddenly grown elf ears. There were a few uncomfortable seconds before he seemed to finally collect himself. Sonya paused and waited; it was early after all. Maybe he was still getting the cobwebs out of his head. He swung the door open all the way and leaned against it. She saw his eyes check her out, lingering a little longer on her chest than the rest of her.

“I’m sorry, can I help you?” He stuck out his hand. She could swear he lowered his voice. “Hi, I’m Doctor Antonio Desilarez. My friends call me Antonio.”

Ooh, a doctor.
 

“Ooh, a douchebag. I wonder how many times this week he’s used that line.”

He seems quite practiced at it.
 

“I’m looking for Roen,” Sonya said. “He’s not expecting me, but he’ll want to see me.”

“Of that I have no doubt.” Antonio studied her face and pointed at her forehead. “You have a nasty abrasion there. Do you want me to take a look? I’m a doctor.”

“I think we already established that,” Sonya replied sweetly. “Thanks, but I’ll be all right. Is Roen in?”

Antonio stepped aside and magnanimously waved her in. “Of course. How rude of me. Can I get you something to drink? A beer, water? I can make some eggs for you if you like. I’m sorry, you’re very distracting. What was your name again?”

“Sonya,” she replied. “And just getting Roen will be fine.”

Persistent, isn’t he?
 

“I find it quite flattering. Girl likes a little attention once in a while, even if it’s from a douchebag.”

Doctor Douchebag.
 

Antonio finally seemed to get the picture and his face fell. “Sure thing,” he said. “Roen’s still asleep. The last door on the right. Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

“Quite,” she said and glided past him to Roen’s room. Sonya stopped at the open doorway and looked around. The room was neatly organized, with stacks of paper sorted in bins on the desk. The laundry was in a hamper in the corner sorted by color, and clothes were folded in the open closet divided by seasonal wear and utility. She went to the bookshelf and glanced over the books, which were arranged in alphabetical order. “Tao or the host?”

According to the evaluation, this is all Tao.
 

“He’s left his mark on the new host already then. Roen Tan is that malleable?”

It would seem so.
 

She walked over to the bed where several blankets were rising up and down. Roen was snoring somewhere in that mound. There was an arm exposed hugging a pillow. She sat down next to him and leaned in close, walking two fingers up the arm. “Wake up, sleepyhead. It’s time to lose the donuts,” she cooed.

Roen yawned and turned over. Sonya grinned and tapped him harder. “You’ll be a fun one to take on field missions. Get up, or I might have to get a little rough.”

Roen awoke groggily and turned to face her. His eyes widened; he looked puzzled, as if unsure what was happening. Finally, he whispered, “Are you real?”

Sonya laughed and blew into his face. “Do I feel real? I’m Sonya, and I came to ask you for something.”

“Um... huh... ask what?” he stammered.

She chuckled. “Quite the glib tongue you got there. Baji wants to know where those two million rubles Tao owes her are. It’s been fifteen years now, and she’s adding interest.”

CHAPTER TEN

FIRST LESSON

Even at an early age, I sensed greatness in Temujin. He was strong and cunning, able in the ways of war. I was his noble ancestor, and I trained him in the ways of politics and battle. For on the harsh steppes, war must be waged and blood must be shed before there could be peace. And in Temujin, I had the perfect weapon. The question is, can the weapon be sheathed after it has drawn blood?