The Ninth Orphan (18 page)

The television report was abruptly interrupted by a news flash. A close-up image of Isabelle suddenly filled the screen. Her image was replaced by a live interview with her father. Nine quickly turned the volume down so his hostage, who was still in the bathroom, wouldn’t hear her father’s voice.

Monsieur Alleget told a news reporter, “I will do everything in my power to free my daughter.” There were tears in his eyes as he looked directly into camera and made a heartfelt plea to Isabelle’s abductor to free her. Monsieur Alleget took a moment to gather his composure. Stronger now, he told the reporter what steps he’d personally be taking to rescue his daughter. He made it clear he’d be making good use of his many connections.

This didn’t surprise Nine. He’d expected as much. It wasn’t Monsieur Alleget, nor the man’s contacts, that worried him; it was his fellow Omegans. Only they could possibly anticipate what he’d do next. Even so, it was yet another complication he’d have to keep in mind, as if there wasn’t enough to think about.

Nine switched the television off as Isabelle emerged from the bathroom. He looked up at her then turned away in case his face gave any hint of his emotions. In that split second, he noted she looked refreshed now and wore the pajamas she’d recently acquired. He couldn’t help noticing that even in her stressed state she looked more beautiful than ever and undeniably sexy.

Surprisingly, Isabelle walked over to an adjoining couch and sat down facing her abductor. “So, what are we doing now?” she asked casually in English.

Nine picked up the unusual tone of Isabelle’s voice. It was friendlier than at any other time since she’d been taken hostage. Yet her voice also indicated a high level of stress. It was as if she were forcing herself to be friendly. For what reason, he didn’t know. “Just killing time,” he eventually responded.

“
Killing time? Until what?”

“
Until I say.” In truth, Nine was waiting for morning when he’d embark on the biggest assignment of his life. If his pending trade with the Chinese went to plan, he’d finally be able to make his planned exodus and disappear for good to his Marquesas Island. With this in mind, it was looking likely he would have to terminate Isabelle before leaving Paris. The magic alternative he’d been seeking hadn’t materialized. He knew he had no other option, but forced that from his thoughts for the moment.

For once, Isabelle didn’t react to Nine’s terseness. Instead, she moved a little closer to him and stretched her feet out on the coffee table, revealing her slender ankles.

Nine briefly glanced in her direction.
She’s an absolute goddess
, he thought to himself.
A stone-cold ebony beauty from head to toe
.
Nine could sense she was trying to seduce him. If it had been at any other time in his life, he’d have succumbed to her in a heartbeat, but the timing definitely wasn’t right. Besides, something didn’t add up.

Isabelle smiled at him with a look that said
take me
. “I know you want to have your cake and eat it too,” she purred.

Nine looked into her eyes. He immediately suspected she was planning something. Isabelle’s behavior was out of character. Her fast breathing, her body language and the size of her pupils gave her away. He also sensed she wasn’t the type of woman who would so easily resort to sex in exchange for freedom.

Nine noticed her right hand was neatly tucked beneath her shapely derriere. Pretending he’d fallen for her charms, he stood up and walked over to her. He bent down, as if to kiss her.

This was the moment Isabelle had been waiting for. She raised her right hand to reveal she was holding a pair of scissors. Isabelle brought the scissors down in a stabbing motion, but Nine effortlessly grabbed her wrist and, with his other hand, removed the scissors from hers. Within a split-second he had her pinned beneath him on the couch.

Isabelle let out a desperate scream. Nine clamped her mouth shut to stop her making any further sound. He put his face an inch away from hers. Terrified, Isabelle feared he’d kill her now. A part of her just wanted it to be over. In some ways, death would have been a welcome relief, but the greater part of her still wanted to live.

Nine leaned closer and whispered, “You try a stunt like that again and I will bury you six feet under, along with your father.”

Isabelle began to cry. “Pourquoi me le faites-vous?” she blurted out thru her tears.

Nine wished he could have answered and explained why he was holding her captive. To do so, of course, would have further compromised his already weakened position. Instead, he got off her and walked back to his couch where he stared coldly back at her.

Isabelle eventually sat up and wiped away her tears. She studied him as if trying to understand his motivations. Nine averted his eyes from her withering gaze.

Shaking, the Frenchwoman took several deep breaths to compose herself. She reverted to English in an attempt to get through to him.
“Why do you cause so much suffering for me and for people like my father? What is it you need?”

“
I want what you have,
”
he responded in English, almost as if talking to himself.
“
The things you take for granted. Family, friends, a sense of community. A normal life. Exactly like that.
”

Isabelle pondered this. Nine
’
s answer had surprised her. She
’
d expected him to say he was on some kind of mission and needed a hostage to succeed, or something along those lines. She certainly didn
’
t think he would be envious of anything she had in her life. For the first time, she began to sense Nine was not just a ruthless person. Rather, he was a ruthless person who had suffered immensely.

Playing amateur shrink again, Isabelle guessed Nine had been abused as a child and was continuing the cycle of violence and destruction. More importantly, she wondered if there might be a way to use this perceived vulnerability in him to secure her freedom.

#

A few hours later, Isabelle was still thinking about Nine
’
s admission as she drifted off to sleep on the bed. In the darkness, Nine remained wide awake on the floor only ten feet away from Isabelle. His mind was so fixated on his trade with the Chinese the next day, he was unable to sleep. He knew he should sleep: he
’
d have to be at the top of his game to pull off what he was planning over the next twenty four hours.

26

I
sabelle awoke early in the morning expecting to see Nine. Instead, she saw a stunning blonde sitting at the dressing table in the hotel room. The beautiful woman was applying make-up before the mirror. She wore a red dress with matching red high-heels and had a black leather handbag over one shoulder.

Still half-asleep, Isabelle grew hopeful as she sensed her abductor may have left her life for good. Isabelle was about to ask the woman who she was when she adjusted her wig, revealing dark hair beneath. Only then did Isabelle realize it was Nine. He had obviously purchased the women’s clothes during his shopping excursion the night before.

Isabelle’s jaw dropped as she witnessed the transformation. She shook her head in amazement as she watched Nine adopt yet another miraculous disguise and
become
a woman. It was mind-blowing that someone could shape-shift to the extent he did. She’d seen photos of people in various disguises before, but never this good.

Watching Nine apply bright red lipstick, Isabelle wondered where he’d received training to be able to transform like this. She had to admit he made a convincing woman.

Nine was relieved his dress was almost a perfect fit. It felt a little tight around the waist, but that wouldn’t be a problem unless he over-ate, which he didn’t intend doing. Padded bras gave his figure an eye-catching allure. He’d been tempted to shave his legs and not wear stockings, but decided instead to wear the black stockings he’d been thoughtful enough to purchase. While he was slim, he was aware his calves were more muscular than the average female’s. He hoped black stockings may help hide that.

As he put the finishing touches on his heavily made-up face, Nine noticed Isabelle was awake. Looking at her in the dressing table’s mirror, he said, “Use the bathroom now.” He returned his attention to the mirror as he donned fake eyelashes.

“
Why?”

Nine didn’t bother engaging in any further conversation. Like a soldier preparing for battle, his mind was fully focused on the deal he’d been setting up for so long. He visualized the trade with the Chinese playing out exactly as he wanted it to.

This positive visualization was yet another thing Kentbridge had taught him. Nine hated how nearly everything about his personality was a product of Kentbridge. How ironic it was, he thought, that the man who had poured more time and energy into him than anyone else, was also the man who had enslaved him.

Isabelle eventually rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She was still wearing the pajamas Nine had bought for her.

“
Have something to drink also,” Nine called to her. “Where we are going there may be no food or drink.”

“
Oh, God! Where are we going this time?” Isabelle called back. No answer.

After using the bathroom, she did as Nine suggested and walked through to the kitchen where she poured herself an orange juice. She gulped it down quickly. From what Nine had said, she assumed they’d be vacating the hotel soon and may not have a chance to stop for some time. Then, after returning to the main room, she shook her head in wonderment yet again as she studied her abductor’s ultra-feminine appearance.

Nine applied a hint of blush and admired himself in the mirror. Even he had to admit he was beautiful. Isabelle looked on in undisguised amusement yet she dared not say anything. Her amusement turned to alarm when he stood up, grabbed her and pushed her toward the bed. Isabelle struggled when she realized what was in store for her. “Oh no, not again!” she protested.

Retrieving the cords he’d used to restrain her the previous day, Nine forced the still struggling Isabelle down onto the bed then began tying her legs and hands to the bedposts.

“
You are insane!” she screamed. “You should be in an asylum!”

Nine silenced her by placing masking tape over her mouth. After checking his reflection one last time in the mirror, he left the hotel room. In the corridor outside, he locked the door and, as before, placed the
Do Not Disturb
sign on the handle. Downstairs, he avoided the lobby and exited the hotel via a little-used side entrance.

Outside, Nine attracted wolf-whistles from some construction workers as he hailed a taxi. Out of the corner of his eye, as he climbed into the taxi’s rear seat, he noticed other Parisian males taking a second look at him. The tight-fitting red dress, matching heels, black stockings and blonde wig were, so far, working well.

Using a slightly high-pitched, feminine French voice, Nine ordered the driver to take him to the Eiffel Tower as he made himself comfortable in the rear of the taxi.

Traveling toward the famous landmark, Nine nervously fiddled with the ruby on the end of his necklace. He then pulled out the small flash drive containing the maps and co-ordinates of the Yamashita treasure site he’d discovered. Nine tapped it thoughtfully with one long, painted fingernail, then placed it safely back inside the bag.

The fugitive agent glanced out the taxi’s window. He was only minutes away from his rendezvous now; the Eiffel Tower was very close. Aware his heart rate was climbing, he focused on bringing it down closer to the efficient sixty beats per minute it normally operated at. Nine mentally visualized the trade with the Chinese going according to plan.

He was fully aware the average American citizen would brand him a traitor for dealing with China, or with any other country. However, Nine felt no guilt whatsoever, for he understood what the average citizen did not: that at the highest levels the world operated independent of governments and border restrictions.

Nine knew from experience it was simply about those powerful few, the secret elite, who manipulated the world’s nations. On his many international assignments over the years, he had discovered the so-called evil countries were all too often controlled by the same people who ran the countries fighting to
liberate
them.

The operative snapped back to the present as the vehicle pulled in to a taxi rank near the Eiffel Tower. Again, the nerves set in. He took several deep breaths to bring his rising pulse rate back under control. Beneath the landmark, he spotted Cho-Wu amidst a small crowd of tourists and immediately sensed this was his man.

Nine surveyed the other tourists and passers-by to ensure Cho-Wu was alone. He felt reasonably certain his Chinese contacts wouldn’t jeopardize the mission by ignoring his instructions to only send one man. Satisfied as best he could be that he wasn’t walking into a trap, he tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Wait for me, will you?”

The driver nodded and watched as his blonde fare demurely climbed out of his taxi. He couldn’t take his eyes off the shapely, black-stockinged legs.