Authors: W. Michael Gear
The Athena Factor (44 page)
Rex shot a hard look at the receptionist, whose radar immediately picked up on it. She smiled, saying, “It will be just a moment longer, Mr. Gerber. Are you sure you wouldn't like anything? Coffee perhaps? Sparkling water?”
“I want Tony,” he growled.
“Yo!” Tony called from above, his white leather shoes appearing on the steps as he descended and bent to peer down at Rex. “You've got him. Come on up, Rex.”
“Hey!” the bratty teenager bitched. “I's here first, man.”
Rex shot him the same sort of look he would have given an unwashed beggar pushing a grocery cart down Santa Monica Boulevard. The older woman was trying to hush the kid, hissing something about success and paying dues.
Rex flashed an empty smile at the receptionist as he hurried to the stairs and took them two at a time to Tony's upper level.
“I thought âYo' was out of style these days.”
Tony grinned. “You never know. I might bring it back. So, Rex, what's up, babe? You look like, you know, bad shit's happening? I had to cut short aâ”
“Can it,” Rex muttered, leading the way down the hallway, past the assistants who watched from lowered eyes, past Tony's personal secretary, and into his large corner office. Rex made the âclose it' gesture with his finger, and Tony shut the door behind them.
“Sheela's missing.” Rex stopped short, whirling, hands braced on his hips.
Tony stood with one hand on the doorknob, a confused look on his sleek tanned face. Two thick gold chains could be seen behind the open throat of his shirt. “Missing?”
“Yeah, as in I can't find her.” Rex jabbed a finger at Tony. “Tell me you've heard something. That she's called, left an e-mail, messengered you, sent flowers, anything.”
“Hey, man, the lady's been on my radar, but not since we had that meeting, you know? What's Lymon say?”
“The prick's gone, too. No one home. When I collared Tomasoâthat Cuban dickhead that works for herâhe just shrugged and said âSheela left for a vacation.' End of story.”
“A vacation?” Tony asked, amazed.
“Bullshit! It's all bullshit.”
“What's Dotâ”
“Nothing. She's still pissed about clearing Sheela's schedule. I called you about that, right?”
“Yeah, I got your message. I called Sheela's, but it was late. No answer.” Tony looked up. “You're sure Dot doesn't know where she is?”
“Nope.” Rex pursed his lips. “But I think Felix does.”
Tony rubbed his face with a tanned hand as he walked over to the window that looked out toward the Hollywood Hills. “Give it a break, Rex. I think the lady pushed herself too hard.”
“Excuse me?”
“She was burning out. Thing is, she was smart enough to see it coming. If you ask me, she's gone somewhere to lie on a beach without a phone, drink some good booze, and chill. You know what I mean?”
“If you'd let me finish, Felix knows something. I could hear it in his voice. When I asked about Lymon, he almost burst a vein. âThat son of a bitch! What did he tell you?' That's what Felix said, and he said it in a voice like I'd never heard him use before.”
“I've heard you use that tone of voice before when Lymon's concerned.”
“Genesis Athena,” Rex stated bluntly.
“What?”
“The thing Christal Anaya was working on.”
Tony smiled. “Yeah, Christal. They got any leads on her yet?”
“Nope.” Rex paused. “What's that look for?”
“I'll never get to see if she was as good as she looked.” Tony seemed to return to the conversation. “What about Genesis Athena?”
“I just came from Lymon's office. I said I needed to get in and find a file. That hyena woman that works for him was breathing over my shoulder the entire time to make sure that I didn't get into anything I shouldn't. When she started to get suspicious I said that Lymon must have the file and I'd get it from him.”
“So where did Genesis Athena come from?”
“It was written on a notepad by Lymon's computer in big block letters, you know, like he was scratching it right through the paper. You know, the way people do when they're mad.”
Tony frowned. “Wait a minute. You think that Sheela and Lymon are doing what? Chasing down Genesis Athena?”
Rex chewed his lip as he thought. “I don't know. But like I said, Felix does. When I mentioned Genesis Athena, he told me to go fuck myself.”
“Felix said that?” Tony looked ever more thoughtful.
“Yeah. Not quite his style, huh?”
Tony reached out a hand and placed it on Rex's shoulder. “Hey, you've been working too damn hard. Fuck it If Sheela and Lymon are out having a little tryst, more power to them, huh? You said that she practically admitted they were lovers that day at Lymon's. You're overreacting. Sheela wanted her calendar cleared so she and Lymon could disappear someplace where they could get it on in private. After what happened with de Giulio, I don't blame her.”
Rex chewed harder on the inside of his lip, then shook his head. “I don't buy it. Sheela was pretty broken up about Anaya's kidnapping. She had that look. You know, the one that said she wasn't going to let it go.”
“Fine, go wear yourself out, Rex.” He walked to his desk, dropping into the easy chair. “Look, if the lady calls, I'll tell her you're worried. I promise, as soon as she hangs up, I'll use my caller ID to get the number, ring you, and you can get back to her. It's your funeral.”
“Just hope it isn't hers, Tony.”
He had already shrugged it off. “Only if the media gets hold of it. They'll have color photos of her and Lymon in flagrante around the world within hours.”
“So, you're going to do nothing?”
“Call me when you've really got something to worry about, Rex.”
T
he chatter of a helicopter beat its way through the
ZoeGen
's maze of decks and companionways. Christal blinked her eyes open, yawned, and stretched. She sat up on her hard bunk. Pale morning light was streaming in through the porthole. She threw off her blanket, stumbled over, and squinted out at the day. She could see the chopper, one of the fancy Sea Kings; it dropped out of the morning sky, slowing. She lost it as it drifted out of her limited line of sight to settle on a helipad somewhere above. The chopper's chatter
and whine died away to be replaced by the now-familiar ship's hum.
he chatter of a helicopter beat its way through the
ZoeGen
's maze of decks and companionways. Christal blinked her eyes open, yawned, and stretched. She sat up on her hard bunk. Pale morning light was streaming in through the porthole. She threw off her blanket, stumbled over, and squinted out at the day. She could see the chopper, one of the fancy Sea Kings; it dropped out of the morning sky, slowing. She lost it as it drifted out of her limited line of sight to settle on a helipad somewhere above. The chopper's chatter
and whine died away to be replaced by the now-familiar ship's hum.
Christal rubbed her eyes and walked into her small bathroom. She used the toilet and splashed water in her face. She was feeling her damp shirt and pantsâwashed in her little sink the night beforeâwhen a knock came at her door.
“Just a minute!” she called, grabbing down her damp things. She whirled in anger when her door swung open. “Hey! I said
just a minute
!”
just a minute
!”
To her surprise, Copperheadâdressed in a flattering pantsuitâstepped in and closed the cabin door behind her. She gave Christal a curious appraisal, noting the crumpled clothing Christal now held in a futile attempt at modesty.
“You look like a drowned rat,” Copperhead stated frankly.
“Get the hell out of here!”
The woman smiled, her hands loosely at her side, her weight perched on the balls of her feet. She wrinkled her nose. “Is that you, or is there something wrong with the plumbing?”
Christal's fingers cramped where they bunched her clothing. She considered flinging the whole mass at the woman as a distraction before she beat her to death.
“Go on,” Copperhead said easily. “Get dressed. I'll meet you outside.”
“Why?”
“You're wanted.” With that, Copperhead laughed softly to herself, opened the door, and stepped out into the companionway.
Christal took a deep breath, shook her head, and began dressing. When she stepped out into the companionway, Copperhead was leaned against the far wall, her arms crossed. She pushed off, looking Christal up and down. “Come on. This way.” She started down the hallway. “We didn't think to bring you anything else to wear.”
“Inconsiderate of you, don't you think, April?”
“If we ever do it again, we'll know.”
“What? Kidnapping's not a normal activity?”
“Actually, you were the first. Change that. Let's say you were the first fully developed adult that we ever snatched.
Some cells here and there don't count, right?” She gave her a wry smile. “Look, I'm sorry. Anaya, I don't have anything against you. Fact is, if you weren't good, we'd have never crossed swords in the first place.”
Some cells here and there don't count, right?” She gave her a wry smile. “Look, I'm sorry. Anaya, I don't have anything against you. Fact is, if you weren't good, we'd have never crossed swords in the first place.”
“One of these days, I'm going to pay you back for those punches you gave me that day in the women's room. And I'm going to bust your dear little mousy Gretchen, too. I've never been shot at beforeâlet alone with intent.”
April took the turn that led to the only way out. “All I can tell you is that she won't be a problem in the future. She's been transferred.”
“Transferred where? Gestapo charm school?”
“Tokyo. Among her several outstanding talents, she speaks both Japanese and Chinese. We project our Asian market to explode as Genesis Athena's capabilities become known. That's especially true of China and India, where population control implies limits on fecundity. The point is, if you can only have one child, why not have exactly what you want? And, I'm sure you know they're generating a great deal of wealth in the Orient these days. Within twenty years we expect it to be our largest market.”
“Where are we going?” Christal asked as they approached the security door.
April entered a quick sequence on the keypad, leaned to look into a retinal scanner, then waved her wrist over it. She pressed her finger to the pad and waved at the camera, calling out, “It's the woman I told you about, Hans. Please pass us.”
The door clicked, and Christal followed April into the small box. One wall was made up of thick glass, behind which sat a muscular blond man. Christal could see monitors off to either side displaying familiar images of the corridors, cafeteria, a laboratory, and the security door they'd just passed. He tapped instructions into a large control panel.
The outer door clicked, and April led the way into another of the companionways.
“Was that the women's shower room I saw in one of his monitors?” Christal asked.
April nodded, indicating that Christal should precede her.
“I hadn't thought of that. I suppose the others are so used to it they never give it a second thought anymore.” She smiled ironically. “Hans, and Max, who works the night shift, could care less. They're lovers when they can manage to find the time.”
“I hadn't thought of that. I suppose the others are so used to it they never give it a second thought anymore.” She smiled ironically. “Hans, and Max, who works the night shift, could care less. They're lovers when they can manage to find the time.”
Christal filed that away as she walked perhaps fifty yards and was directed to her right. “Take that first lift, if you will. Press the button for the B Deck.”
When the doors opened, Christal stepped inside. Another of the ubiquitous security cameras glared down with a bulbous glass lens. She gestured toward it. “Doesn't that bother you? Being in the fisheye all the time?”
“We take security very seriously,” April said as she stepped in across from Christal. “And if you're thinking of jumping me and making a break for it, we're about thirty miles offshore. If you're lucky the water temperature is fifty degrees Fahrenheit. Instead of trying something that will end up making you look ridiculous, why don't you just cooperate for a while longer, and let the lawyers make their pitch.”
Christal pressed the B button. “What's the pitch?”
“The cost of your current inconvenience and future silence.”
“What if you can't afford it?”
The look April gave Christal was anything but reassuring. “Ms. Anaya, you're thirty miles out into the Atlantic. No one back on the mainland has the faintest idea of where you are. Hank says that you're a very bright woman, and my experience up to this point bears that out. We will be reasonable if you will. It's a simple equation.”
The door slid open. Christal sighed as she stepped out into a lavishly appointed corridor. The walls looked like they were done in hand-waxed teak. Golden sconces lit the rich carpeting and arched ceiling. The doors off to either side were wooden with gold handles. “Pretty chic,” Christal muttered. “Is this part of the deal?”
“That's up to you. Just because circumstances put us on opposite sides doesn't mean it has to stay that way.” April followed just behind her left shoulder. “Next door to the right.”
Christal grabbed a slim handle, turned it, and stepped into what might have passed for a small lobby at a top-end hotel. Marble columns supported a sculptured ceiling. Gold filigree was everywhere. The floor was a combination of marble and sections of thick Persian rug. The furniture was immaculate, worth a fortune, and looked immanently comfortable.
“To your right. That door in the corner,” April told her.
As Christal crossed the room, she looked out the tall windows that lined the far wall. She could see silver-blue ocean gleaming in the summer sunlight. Nothing marred the water's surface. Not a ship, not even a bit of flotsam.
The doorway led her into, of all things, a small locker room with a tiled floor. On one wall a redwood bench was backed by a full-length mirror. Floor-to-ceiling stainless steel lockers covered the other. Vanities filled the spaces to either side of the doors on either end of the room. They were accompanied by mirrors, hair dryers, and small sinks, all looking fully equipped.
April closed the door behind them. “If you'll remove your clothes and open that locker on the right, you'll see that we've taken the liberty of supplying you with a wardrobe. I think the size is right.” She cocked her head. “Would you like to take a shower? One without a camera?”
Christal had taken up a position across from her. “What's up? Why are you doing this?”
“Some of our people would like to talk to you. We thought you might like to clean up and dress appropriately. You've got about an hour until they're scheduled to see you. If you want to go looking like you've just come off a two-week camping trip in the Guatemalan high country, who am I to complain? If not, there are clothes here and a shower room just beyond that door. You're welcome to clean up, wash, dry, and fix your hair. Whatever.”
“And you?”
April pressed a key on the pad near the door they'd entered through. A solid-sounding click could be heard.
“I'm going for a swim.” April bent her leg, slipped a shoe off, and began undressing. She looked at Christal with amusement as she peeled out of her pantsuit. “Like I said,
we've got an hour. Use it anyway you'd like. Me, I'm taking it in the pool.” She inclined her head toward the door at Christal's right.
we've got an hour. Use it anyway you'd like. Me, I'm taking it in the pool.” She inclined her head toward the door at Christal's right.
Christal frowned, then opened it to see the sort of shower a Roman emperor might have designed. The place was tiled in white marble with three sets of matching sculpted golden showerheads. When she looked back, April was naked, hanging her clothing in one of the lockers. The woman padded past on bare feet, walked calmly into the shower room, and turned on the water at one of the showers.
So what are you going to do now?
Christal looked warily around the locker room, searching the corners for small cameras, microphones, or anything that might be suspicious. Back through the doorway, Christal could see April soaping her hair. If she was going to take her, now would be the time. Talk about vulnerability. Copperhead would never see her coming.
Christal looked warily around the locker room, searching the corners for small cameras, microphones, or anything that might be suspicious. Back through the doorway, Christal could see April soaping her hair. If she was going to take her, now would be the time. Talk about vulnerability. Copperhead would never see her coming.
Her people want to talk to me?
She reached up to finger her stringy black hair. It felt tacky from the film left by the hand soap she used when she washed in her tiny cubicle sink. Then she glanced around at the opulent surroundings. Was this really legit?
She reached up to finger her stringy black hair. It felt tacky from the film left by the hand soap she used when she washed in her tiny cubicle sink. Then she glanced around at the opulent surroundings. Was this really legit?
What the hell.
Christal flipped out of her pumps and opened the locker April had indicated. Two white blouses, a gray wool skirt and jacket, and a neatly pressed pair of matching designer slacks hung there.
Christal flipped out of her pumps and opened the locker April had indicated. Two white blouses, a gray wool skirt and jacket, and a neatly pressed pair of matching designer slacks hung there.
Maybe it wasn't the right decision, but she peeled out of her still-damp shirt and pants, laid them neatly on the redwood bench, undid her bra, and dropped her panties.
Vulnerable. Right. That's just how she felt as she walked through the door to the shower room. Damn! Talk about sybaritic! She hadn't seen that one full wall was mirrored. She took the faucet farthest from April, cranked the handles, and fiddled with the water until the temperature was right. The soap, shampoo, and conditioner were contained in a gold-plated European-style dispenser with push buttons.
God, it felt heavenly. From under the spray she watched April's reflection in the mirror as the muscular woman turned off the water, shook out her hair, and stepped to a far
door. When April walked through, Christal could see the smooth turquoise surface of a pool under a glass-paned ceiling beyond.
door. When April walked through, Christal could see the smooth turquoise surface of a pool under a glass-paned ceiling beyond.
Leaving the water running, Christal immediately slipped back into the locker room and tried the far door. Yep, locked all right. She returned to the shower room and turned off the water. Dripping her way to the pool room door, she opened it just a crack to peek out. April was churning her way through the water, stroking powerfully.
Christal glanced this way and that, seeing round life preservers here and there along the walls. Lounge chairs, small tables and benches, and several closed cabinets stood on the poolside patio. A diving board jutted out over the deep end closest to her.
“It's okay,” April called where she trod water in the center of the pool. “We're not going to be disturbed. At least, not by anybody who will live through it if they do.”
“Uh, I don't know.”
“Suit yourself.” April flipped over, diving like a dolphin, her feet rising from the water as she slid down to kick otter-like across the pool floor.
Christal could hear the voices, whispering, warning, as she glanced around, searching again for any sign of cameras, of observation.
Oh, do it!
she chided herself. After all, April was buck-assed naked, and as she had pointed out, she wasn't the kind to take an infringement without serious consequences.
she chided herself. After all, April was buck-assed naked, and as she had pointed out, she wasn't the kind to take an infringement without serious consequences.
Christal stepped through the door, running to make a clean dive. As she speared into the water, a voice asked,
But what do you really know about her? This is Copperhead! Maybe she was a lap dancer at a strip club before she became a felon?
But what do you really know about her? This is Copperhead! Maybe she was a lap dancer at a strip club before she became a felon?
Too late now. She was in the water. Her head broke the surface, and she flipped her wet hair aside.
April stroked past, floating on her back. “Feels good, doesn't it?”
“Whose place is this?” Christal found footing and braced herself, water modestly up to her neck.
“We have a lot of rich clients.” April pulled her feet under
her and stood in the chest-deep water. “That's why I brought you here. I thought you could use a break and some softening up before the lawyers get to you.”
her and stood in the chest-deep water. “That's why I brought you here. I thought you could use a break and some softening up before the lawyers get to you.”
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