Legacy (The Vs. Reality Series Book 3) Page 3

  “Game?” Allison scoffs, rolling her eyes with a scathing sarcasm that only a sixteen-year-old can convey with such a small gesture. “There was no game. Venus Williams here was barely able to last two sets before face-planting on the court.”

  “I thought I did better this time,” Brodie replies, gulping down oxygen as if he’d been drowning and just came up for air. “Remember that time when I hit the ball and it almost made it over the net? What’s that called?”

  “It’s called a fault, you jackass. When you serve it has to land on your opponent’s side of the court.” Allison turns her attention towards the living room as she twists the cap off of a Lightning Liquid sports drink. “Hey Paige, why don’t you come outside and give it a go? I haven’t had a decent game in months and it’s driving me crazy.”

  “I don’t know that I’d be much more competition that Brodie,” Paige replies with a tiny smile. “I’m more of an indoor gal.”

  “Allison!” Goto’s voice arrives before he does, echoing down the corridor.

  “Ugh...here we go again,” Allison has grown accustomed to being lectured over the last several months, but it doesn’t make the daily routine any less demeaning.

  “Would you be so kind as to enlighten me, as to what precisely happened with Maria this morning?” If possible he sounds even more British to her than usual. And wearing his perfectly-pressed Armani suit, he even looks more British. “Dismissing my staff, and please note the use of the word ‘my’ in that sentence, is one of those unique privileges of being me. As opposed to, for the sake of argument...you.”

  “Oh please, I did you a favor. Maria was a whore.”

  “She was our maid, Allison.”

  “For a maid she sure dressed like a whore.”

  “She was wearing the required uniform for the housekeeping staff,” Goto says sharply, “whether it meets your standards or not.”

  Allison pauses for a moment and puts her hands on her hips. “Well she vacuumed like a whore.”

  “What the bloody hell does that even mean?”

  “Look, I’m stuck in this hellhole alone,” Allison says, pointing at her chest as if she needs to draw additional attention to herself during her latest tantrum. “I’m here without my masseuse, without my personal trainer, without my stylist, and without the rest of my team. I just needed some help this morning, and Maria flat out refused. What am I supposed to do, file and paint my own toenails like some freaky homeless person?”

  “My dear, Maria is a fine housekeeper, and it was her role to keep this place clean. Expecting her to attend to your precious toes was a little outside her remit.” Living on a ten-thousand square foot compound in the Western Australian outback requires a significant amount of maintenance, and Goto has only so many hands to go around. After abandoning his underground base of operations below the border of France and Switzerland, The Basement, he was forced to gather the team and flee to his back-up location halfway around the world. It’s not nearly as secure, but it’s far enough removed from civilization to ensure they’ll go unnoticed. With nothing but rocks and dirt for hundreds of miles in every direction the compound looks oddly out of place; like an opulent mansion in Beverly Hills had been plucked from its manicured lawn and dropped into the middle of a massive orange sandbox – but as far as locations go, there is nowhere on earth more remote.

  “So,” Goto continues, “as I try to persuade her to rejoin my employ, you are going to have to start tidying your own room and helping with some chores. Do you understand?”

  The temperature in the room seemed to drop with these last few words.

  Allison huffs and stomps her feet defiantly, jabbing her finger towards the side door. “This is ridiculous! Cole would never make me clean up.”

  Goto’s monumental self-control causes his voice to become little more than a measured whisper, attempting to retain a degree of civility.

  “Mister Donovan is not in-charge here – I am. This is my facility and my operation, which means that while you’re staying here you obey my rules. As you took it upon yourself to inconvenience everyone else here, you will make your own bed and do your own laundry until further notice. And additional tasks will be assigned to you until I can re-staff. Understood?”

  With a frustrated groan she turns and makes her way towards the corridor that leads to the guest quarters, scooping an apple off the kitchen counter on the way. “If anyone needs me I’ll be in my room wishing you were all dead.”

  Goto just shakes his head in disbelief. He turns towards Paige, who offers no more than a smirk and a one-shouldered shrug. “Don’t look at me,” she says with a chuckle. “I wanted to leave her in Paris but you insisted that we bring her along.”

  “I have quite literally killed for less. I suggest someone has a quiet word and points this out to her. Before I do.”

  Goto is just turning to go when Brodie yelps and bolts upright in his chair. He’s staring at the wall-mounted TV on the living room’s far wall. “Holy shit guys, get over here right now.”

  Paige and Goto gather around, and quickly read the scrolling text at the bottom of the screen: Large Hadron Collider being constructed in Brazil.

  A portly, dark-haired reporter with a thick moustache stands in an isolated part of north-western Brazil, somewhere deep within the Amazon Rainforest. Surrounded by lush green foliage, he steps aside and motions behind him, revealing hundreds of construction workers in a clearing, digging a circular hole as large as a small city. “Not only is the new Collider going to be the largest ever built,” the reporter states with amazement, “but it will be several times more powerful. The U.S. government has funded the undertaking, and expects it to be completed and operational within the month.” The text on the screen explains that this Hadron Collider will be forty-two kilometers in circumference, nearly twice the size of the CERN complex in Switzerland. Another fact scrolls by: Europe’s Collider started construction in 1998, and took a full ten years to complete.

  The reporter presses his fingers to his ear and pauses for a moment. “I’m being told that we have a special guest with us live via satellite from Washington D.C. General, can you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear.” The screen splits and General Davenport appears, wearing his full uniform, and the Oval Office clearly visible in the backdrop.

  “What...the...hell.” Paige fumbles on the coffee table in search of the remote, turning up the volume without averting her eyes from the screen.

  “The American people have spoken,” The General begins. “They want to make strides towards the future, and as their elected representatives, it’s our job to ensure we take those steps. While the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland has yielded some positive results, it has become outdated in recent years, and is no longer adequate to perform some of the experiments that could lead to significant advancements.” The General refuses to delve into specific details at this time, but assures the reporter that the knowledge gleaned from the new LHC will benefit not only America, but the rest of the world. He concludes by stating that he will be arriving on-site in the next twenty-four hours to supervise the final stages of the construction himself.

  Goto stands and begins to pace band and forth, uncharacteristically agitated. “The first Collider that the General constructed tore open the Rift before self-destructing, and I partially disabled the second. But if this new Collider becomes operational it might not just pull the Rift open further – it could blow it wide enough to tear apart reality.”

  “All right,” Paige says calmly, motioning for Goto to take a seat, “let’s just stay cool and discuss this rationally. We know where the Collider is, and we know that he’s going to be there.”

  Brodie pops the cap on a bottle of pills and lays them out on the glass surface of the coffee table. “And you believe that shit?” he says, waving towards the screen.

  “Of course not,” Paige says. “But why would The General go out of his way to announce this to the world? With their resources, the U.S. a
nd the rest of the Council could have kept this under wraps until it was completed. And why would he formally announce that he’s going to be there in person?”

  Goto looks towards Paige as the realization strikes him. “This isn’t an announcement. It’s an invitation.”

  “But now that we know it’s a trap we’re not going to fall for it, right?” Brodie laughs to himself before popping a handful of pills into his mouth and washing them down with a gulp of beer.

  Goto and Paige glance at each other, and then back at Brodie.

  “Guys, come on...” Brodie shakes his head. “You’ve got to be shitting me. We’re not going to go exactly where the scary sociopath who wants us all dead is telling us to go, are we?”

  “I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Paige sighs. “If it means stopping The General and shutting down this new Collider, we have to go.”

  ***

  Cole heaves a boulder from the earth – a massive jagged stone half the size of a car. He balances the rock on his right palm, takes two lumbering step and spirals it like a quarterback tossing a football, hundreds of feet into the distance. It lands with a resounding thud as a cloud of orange dirt rises around it.

  He wipes his brow with the back of his forearm and squints into the horizon, trying to judge the distance of his latest throw. Aside from a single lifeless tree, protruding from the ground like a twisted wooden claw, there are no discernible landmarks, and nothing to help mark his progress. Not that he’s able to accurately keep track anyway. Earlier in the afternoon he threw some smaller boulders so far that he lost sight of them as they sailed into the cloudless, powder-blue sky.

  “Hey,” Jens shouts in a hoarse voice, drenched in sweat after trudging down the path that leads from the compound. Cole hadn’t even noticed him approaching. “You do realize that they have gyms in this country, right? Goto said you could take the jet and head into Perth for a workout if you need to blow off some steam.”

  Cole replies without turning around. “You mean at the spa that you and Brodie went to last weekend? You guys didn’t even go there to exercise – you just got massages and had your nails done.”

  Jens scoffs at the accusation. “Dude, it’s not like we got French manicures. We just had a clear coat applied to prevent chipping...but that’s not the point. The point is that you can’t just spend all day throwing giant rocks around the Outback.”

  “What’s the difference? It’s not like anyone is gonna see me.” Cole turns in time to catch the water bottle that Jens lobs towards him. He spins off the cap, takes a quick swig and pours the rest over his head. When the cold water washes down his bare chest he almost expects steam to rise from his skin.

  “That’s right, no one sees you. You’re like some crazy recluse. An impossibly muscular, tanned recluse with six-pack abs...but still. It’s not healthy.”

  “I’ve been out here for an hour, man. Relax.”

  Jens shakes his head, taking a sip from his own bottle. “No, you haven’t. You’ve been gone for months. Ever since she left you’ve been wandering around with this vacant look in your eyes. It’s like you’re a ghost.”

  The words penetrate and Cole turns, shielding his eyes from the sunlight with his hand as he stares out into the endless expanse. “Dia had her memory wiped so she didn’t know who she was. What’s my excuse?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I was given all of this.” He motions towards his bicep, flexing his arm until the sizable veins project from beneath his skin. “I didn’t have to earn it. It’s like I won the cosmic lottery, and now I’m not even putting it to good use.” Cole exhales loudly, running his hands through his dark hair. “I’m standing around waiting for someone to decide what I should do next. Ten thousand miles from New York and nothing’s changed...I’m stronger than I’ve ever been, and I’ve never felt so powerless.”

  “You really don’t get it, do you?” Jens steps forward and stands next to his friend, patting him gently on the shoulder. “You’re not the skinny kid with the dead-end office job anymore – you’ve got a clean slate. You’re on the other side of the world with a new body, new friends and a whole new purpose in life. This is a chance for you to be whoever you want. Do you know how many people would kill for an opportunity like that?”

  “I guess so. But after what The General did to you...” Cole’s voice is etched with pain as he recalls the incident in Paris. The sight of his best friend, pale and still, the life drained from his body – and the sick, empty sensation that hollowed out his insides when he believed that he would lose someone else so close to him.

  “You couldn’t have prevented that,” Jens says. “You can’t be everywhere at once, protecting everybody on Earth. And yeah, Dia is gone. I get that you’re depressed about that, but maybe it’s not the worst thing that could have happened. How well did you really know her, anyway?”

  Cole has never been overly articulate when trying to express his feelings, and he fumbles to find the words that explain his attachment. “I just...I feel like we had something together. It’s like we really connected.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Jens replies with a laugh. “I overheard the two of you ‘connecting’ back in Paris – multiple times.”

  Cole can’t help but smile. “It was more than just that one night. There’s something between us that I can’t describe.”

  “Look, I know that Dia is hot; she smells amazing, her teeth are right out of a toothpaste commercial, and damn – even her feet are amazing. Have you ever taken a really good look at them? Her soles are as smooth as a baby’s ass.”

  Cole shoots his friend a sidelong glance and raises an eyebrow.

  “Right,” Jens continues, “back to my point. So I know you’re into her, but what you have to realize is that there are plenty of other fish out there. You need to get out your fishing rod, dust it off and start sticking it into some new ponds. And when I say ‘fishing rod’, I’m talking about your dick.”

  Cole responds with an exaggerated nod. “Yeah, I got that.”

  “And by ‘ponds’, what I’m talking about is...”

  “Dude,” Cole interrupts, “I know what you’re saying. But not everything in life can be fixed by picking up random girls in night clubs. Dia is different. I can’t help but feel that when she comes back we can work things out.”

  Jens takes a moment before responding. “If she comes back.”

  “Yeah,” Cole sighs. “If.”

  Jens continues as he turns to walk back to the compound, and Cole reluctantly follows. “Paige is a pretty smart chick. And she loves her sister – you have to believe that. I don’t think she would have been wiping her memory for all those years unless she had a really good reason. You have to face it, man: maybe Dia just isn’t the girl you want her to be. Maybe she never was.”

  Cole stares at the orange dirt rising around his white sneakers as he drags his feet with each step. “Whatever she did before, whoever she was, she was still Dia. Nothing can change that.”

  Chapter Five – Comorbidity

  Naples, Florida | January 26, 2012 | 10:44 am, Eastern Standard Time

  Mayor James J. Kerrigan’s home office looks more like a gaudy Las Vegas casino lounge than a practical workspace, though it’s not exactly his fault. Had he chosen the furnishings himself, he never would have purchased shimmering gold curtains or an oversized tiger pelt to be draped over a purple velvet couch.

  On the other hand, the decorating project occupied his twenty-year-old fiancée for several weekends, allowing him to indulge in a number of uninterrupted trips to his new casino in Las Vegas. It was well worth the compromise.

  His primary concern, after all, isn’t the collection of repulsive Warhol paintings that now line his walls, or the ridiculous replica of Michelangelo’s David that peers at him from the corner of his office. It’s security.

  It’s virtually impossible to become a multi-billionaire without making a few enemies – and Kerrigan is no exception to the
rule – which is why he’s always been a little paranoid when it comes to his safety. As the leading candidate to become the President of the United States later this year, his affinity for personal protection has grown into a borderline obsession. An armored limousine, twenty-four hour security detail and an office door designed for a safe-room are just some of his precautions. And no one enters his vast estate without passing through a number of checkpoints, metal detectors and security cameras.

  When your residence is more secure than the White House the chances of a breach are extremely slim, which is why he’s stunned when he walks into his office, drops his golf bag on the floor and turns to find a blond-haired, blue eyed woman lounging casually on his sofa.

  “This is super gross,” Danica says, massaging the fur of his newly acquired tiger pelt. “But I have to admit, it’s pretty comfy.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Kerrigan shouts, squinting sharply at his unwanted guest.

  “You announced to the world that I was a terrorist just six months ago, and now you don’t even recognize me?” She places both hands on her chest and tilts her head, widening her eyes with the pretense of sorrow. “Come on, James…you’re breaking my heart.”

  The Mayor’s jaw hangs open in disbelief. “Dia.”

  “It’s Danica now.” She stands and takes a few leisurely steps across the room towards his art collection. “So this is the part where you say…”

  “How did you get in here?” he responds without hesitation.

  “Glad you asked,” she replies with a cheerful smile. “Being on the run for so many years, I spent a lot of time watching television. More than I’d like to admit, actually. I saw a documentary just this morning about polar bears, and it was so sad...did you know that since the Arctic Shelf began melting they’ve been starving? It’s getting harder for them to find seals, and they get so desperate for food that they’ve actually started hunting humans.”

  Danica catches a glimpse of The Mayor’s quizzical expression. “Sorry,” she says with laugh, “I’m rambling. Anyway, one of my guilty pleasures is watching those tacky decorating shows. Embarrassing, right? So last week I’m channel surfing, and I come across your beautiful girlfriend Karolina. At the beginning of the show she’s standing right here, and she’s talking about your fab new office make-over.”