Pandora's Succession (16 page)

“I wasn’t. I...I’m just not familiar with classical music. Who composed it?”

“Some noteworthy composer,” Fox answered. “We all have ways of dealing with stress and our emotions. Some people swing a golf club, others go to the firing range, as for me, I’ll play an instrument.”

Parris took a step closer. She wanted to see into his eyes. She watched as he kept playing, although now, it was more like he was banging on the keyboard. She wouldn’t yell above the piano. But a few moments later, he seemed to calm down. What he played now almost sounded like what he played earlier. Was this his way of reaching out to her?
My God, is he playing this to impress me?
He looked up at her again and she felt a dryness at the back of her throat that made her immediately look away from him.

The double doors opened and both Sora and a young man came in.
Perfect timing.
The young man carried two plates and Sora had a tray containing two small teapots with hot water, two separate tea balls beside each, and a carafe of cold water.

“Hello, Dr. Parris,” said the young man as he stopped and bowed in front of her. “I’m Yoshirou.”

“Hello.” Parris bowed, not knowing what else to do.

“How about some curried chicken roti?” asked Fox. “That’s still your favorite, isn’t it?

Oh my gosh, he remembered.
Parris watched as Yoshirou set the table. “What’s going on here?”

Fox had a half smile and he ended his rendition with a few gentle chords. “Lunch.”

“It seems out of place.”

“I know it seems weird finding West Indian cuisine here, especially at a tea house. But I’m good friends with the owner of this particular franchise and I put in a special request.”

Yoshirou assisted Parris with her chair as she sat down facing the television. He helped Fox to his seat while Sora placed the small tea pots and cups, the Oolong Jasmine tea bulb for Parris, and the Earl Grey Pot de Crème for Fox.

Fox and Parris thanked them both and the two waiters retreated to the door.

Fox looked up at Parris with the fork in his hand. “Bon appetite.”

“Thank you. But I know you didn’t travel all this way to apologize and pamper me with this meal. So, where were we?”

“As I said, I’m following a lead.”

“Really, and abusing The Company’s budget by sending me expensive flowers and reserving this place. Tomas could’ve taken any messages for me. So how did you manage to pull this one off?”

“I’m a member. As I said before I’m good friends with the owner,” said Fox as they both dropped the bulbs in their individual tea pots.

“Bet you are.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty nice concept they have. They’ve got these home-type establishments here in Tokyo, London, Amsterdam, Cairo, New York, and also Hong-Kong. I’m thinking of opening one in Montreal, my hometown.”

“Oh really?”

“Is that a work-related accident by the way?”

Parris’s hands shot up to her headband.
Was the Band-Aid showing?
She felt around.
No, it wasn’t.

“How did you know that?”

Fox sliced into the roti shell with his knife. “I didn’t. That was, of course, until you reacted the way you did.”

Parris sighed in embarrassment. “Yes, I was attacked at work yesterday morning.”

“Attacked?”

“Yes.”

“By who?”

“One of my subjects. The new mind-control technique Hexagon has developed didn’t go too well.”

“Any idea what went wrong?”

“Not yet, but it appears we’ll stick to the original drug we used before. Ironically, it’s been named Clarity.”

“How does it work?”

“By blocking the RAS’s normal function, along with the amygdala and hypothalamus.”

Fox crossed his legs and held his chin in his palm and tapped his lips with his finger as he chewed. “The RAS?”

“Yes. It’s the Reticular Activation System responsible for screening unnecessary info into the brain.”

There was a moment’s silence and then Fox looked back at Parris as she began to eat. “Right.”

“What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing. It’s just that biology isn’t my forte.”

I guess you won’t be impersonating a scientist anytime soon.
“Anyway, in order for us to effectively brainwash our subjects, we have to disrupt the reasoning, personality, and drive regions of the brain.”

“Yes, of course, in the hindbrain,” said Fox.

“No,” said Parris. “That would disrupt their sight. Personality’s found in the forebrain and human drives are in the thalamus. With those areas disrupted, the subjects are then more susceptible to suggestion. That’s where our device comes into play.”

“Which device?”

Parris told him about the chair and its function. “Before we developed the latest variation of the drug, patients would have to undergo several sessions with the chair before they were completely brainwashed. We were hoping to reduce that amount with the latest version.”

Parris then cleared her throat. “Now, tell me more about the man you’re tracking.”

Fox poured himself a glass of water and poured a glass for Parris. “His name’s Valerik and he’s raised a few red flags since you spotted him yesterday morning. A little over a day ago, a temporary CDC compound in southern Uganda was attacked. The main suspects may be members of an organization called the Arms of Ares. Have you ever heard of them?”

“Of course. Everyone’s watching out for them. The CIA, FBI, Homeland Security, you name it.”

“They’ve recently raised the bar on bio-warfare. They’ve been researching a very deadly microbe.”

“What type of microbe?”

“It’s called Pandora.” Fox took a sip of water. “Sound familiar?”

“Yes. I was a weapons analyst back in the days the Defense Department was researching it. But wasn’t that project cancelled several years ago?”

“It turns out that some people didn’t want that. Ares is trying to market Pandora. I managed to stop them from selling it to Sudanese government officials who were going to use Darfurian locals as guinea pigs. But we believe that Valerik has obtained samples of Pandora and has given them to this man.”

Fox reached into the blazer that hung on his chair and pulled out a rolled-up legal-sized brown envelope. He handed it to Parris. She opened it and removed the pictures.

“I believe you’re well acquainted with him?”

Parris stared briefly at the picture. “Of course. He’s my boss.”

“Small world, isn’t it? Several years ago he was believed to have helped the Soviets develop a brainwashing program. Today he’s a cult leader. I’ve been informed that the Boeisho has been keeping close watch on his cult. Three of their agents infiltrated the group. Lately, they’ve all gone missing.”

She stared at the photo. “If he’s involved, then it’s possible that all of our test subjects who’ve been given the drug could be recruited as cult members. They’d be easy, vulnerable targets. All this time I thought this talk of a cult was part of the experiment.”

“It’s very real. Your experiments were nothing more than a front.”

Parris raised a hand to cover her mouth. “Oh, Lord.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Doctor. You would’ve found out sooner or later. Valerik’s picture’s there as well.”

Parris took out his photograph. “Yeah, I saw him yesterday as I was leaving Hashimoto’s office. He didn’t look too friendly. I also passed him on my way to work this morning.”

“He has a history. He went off the CIA’s radar several years ago—”

“During the Cold War, only to resurface now. Yeah, I’ve learned that much from Tomas. If he stole samples of Pandora for Hashimoto, then he could easily hide it at Hexagon.” Parris poured herself a cup of tea. She took out a navy blue handmade table napkin with yellow frilled borders. She placed it on the corner of the table, when suddenly her jaw dropped and she looked past Fox.

“What’s wrong?” asked Fox.

Parris leapt from her chair and dashed over to the television in a few long strides. She turned up the volume—Valerik’s picture was on the screen. She heard Fox’s chair sliding in the background and heard him approach. She couldn’t understand what was being said, but seeing Valerik’s picture could only mean bad news. Her thoughts were later confirmed when a multi-car pile-up on a highway was shown.

She glanced over at Fox before looking back at the television. “What just happened?”

“For starters, he’s dead.”

Parris rolled her eyes. “Now tell me something I couldn’t have guessed for myself.”

“An eye-witness claimed that his body was dropped from an overpass into oncoming traffic late this morning, which resulted in the pile-up.”

“Any idea who did this?”

“My guess is someone who couldn’t stand him, considering the way he was disposed of.”

“You mean, you don’t know.”

Fox gestured to the television. “Hey, I’m seeing this for the first time like you. We’re bound to find out more later on.”

The news report ended. They both returned to the table.

Parris continued to eat and then wiped off the corner of her mouth with the table napkin. “So, Valerik’s dead. We have an idea of who his allies were. We’re just unsure of his enemies.”

“There’s something else I should add. A few members of the Boeisho met me at the airport. Their Head of Section was the one who briefed me on what happened in Chechnya. But just before that, someone else ran into me at the airport and slipped me a note that said not to trust them. And that he’d contact me later.”

Parris sipped her tea as Fox recounted everything Tanaka had told him. “Do you think the Boeisho could’ve killed Valerik?”

“They could’ve, but I doubt they would’ve disposed of him in such a manner. Whoever did this wanted an audience, or to send a message to his colleagues.” Fox finished his roti and drank the rest of his water. “Like Ares.”

“You think they’re here?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. They’re pretty resourceful. And they seem to be getting better at it. I’m surprised they were able to track him down this quickly. Hopefully, my informant can tell me more.”

“I’d be careful.” Parris held a finger to her lip briefly and then pointed it at Fox. “We don’t know anything about this informant. He said you can’t trust the Boeisho. They were expecting you and knew when and where to meet you, which means that someone tipped them off. And for this informant to know your whereabouts could mean that someone tipped him off also.”

“If he’s Boeisho, and let’s just say he is for argument’s sake, he’d have his channels. I doubt that he’s working alone.”

“And what if he’s one of Hashimoto’s men? Tanaka told you that he lost touch with his three agents. Who’s to say that your informant isn’t one of Hashimoto’s brainwashed cult members? I know I wasn’t involved in brainwashing all of them, but you have to still consider the possibility.”

Fox leaned over the table and looked Parris in the eye. “I realize that. But he has something to share with me. And with Valerik dead, it’s all we have to go on right now. If someone’s lying, then I’ll know soon enough.”

Parris copied Fox’s actions and leaned in herself. “In that case, I’m coming with you to meet him, the next time he contacts you.”

Fox dropped his head on a slant and raised an eyebrow. “Say what?”

“You heard what I said.”

“He asked for me. That means I should go alone.”

“So what. I’ll hide. If he’s one of Hashimoto’s men, chances are I’ve seen him around Hexagon.”

“And if he’s not, you risk blowing your cover.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“You’d be doing just that...by not showing up. You don’t need to attract attention to yourself. You’re NOC, remember?”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. I guess that’s why you sent me a boat-size bouquet of roses to my workplace?”

“Do you always have to have the last word?”

Parris got up and leaned on the table towards Fox with outstretched arms, eyes narrowed. “I do, considering I wasn’t aware you were put in charge.”

Fox stood up and duplicated Parris’s actions. “It’s not a matter of who’s in charge of what. It’s about the Boeisho not knowing about you, and its best that we keep it that way. I’ve done exceptionally well so far.”

“You think so?”

“Are you always this argumentative?”

“When I don’t agree with something, I’ll damn well let you know it. But if you want to go it alone, fine. You’re better off letting Tomas hook you up with one of his gadgets, preferably a mini video camera that can pin to your jacket. At least that way he can run a search on your informant. It’s the same way we caught Valerik’s image. Is that too much to ask?”

Fox looked away from Parris for a few seconds, to the television which now showed a chewing gum commercial.

“No,” he said and then looked back at Parris. “It isn’t.”

There, at least we actually reached a compromise.
She couldn’t believe it. Just as they were starting to warm up again he had to insult her like this.
Who’s he to tell me that I shouldn’t come?
This wasn’t working, it was an unavoidable mistake that they wound up working together in the first place. She had to get away from him. Parris looked at her watch and stood up from the table. She grabbed her purse from the back of the chair as though she were in a hurry. “I have to go.”