7 Days to Paradise
“Do you believe in religion, Miss Bennett?” His dark-haired security chief looked stunned by the question. In all the years they had known each other, he never had asked her about her beliefs. She tapped her pen on the side of her grey pant leg while she stared blankly at him through her steel-rimmed glasses. She hated him. If she were not dedicated to the mission, he had no doubt that Bennett would have left long ago.
“Religion is a pretty blanket statement, Mister Zakorra.”
He leaned back within his executive chair and opened his arms wide, indicating his large collection of religious artifacts around his office. At first glance it would appear to be a very eclectic collection.
“As you can see, I don’t restrict myself to any one belief. I find a variety of sources to be most valuable. Do you believe in divinity, angels, demons or anything of the sort, Miss Bennett?”
She looked pensive to him, almost unwilling to answer. Then, with an impatient sigh she relented only far enough to shake her head in answer.
“A pity,” he commented. “But unsurprising. Do you know the significance of my collection?”
“Religious objects,” she responded, taking only a cursory glance at half the room. She met his eyes again, looking both bored and annoyed. She had a knack of making everything seem beneath her.
“You’re not even trying. I admit I have developed an interest in the study of the end of all things.”
His security chief looked again at the objects, her head tilting slightly in comprehension as she took in the artifacts with a bit more discerning thought. She didn’t even spend a polite length of time looking at his collection before her bored expression returned to him.
“Did you know, for instance, that both Hinduism and Islam have a passage that a figure would ride forth on a white stallion to signal the end?” At least, he was pretty certain that’s what those passages meant. He wasn’t really a religious man.
“No, Mister Zakorra.” She looked at him, a hard glare that he had come to know well. “I assume there is a purpose to your explanation into your hobbies?”
He smiled back at her. “I wonder perhaps if we are in the early stages of the final days. What do you think, Miss Bennett?”
She considered him for the briefest of moments. Then she moved forward and deposited the papers she had been holding under her arm on his desk and began methodically spreading them out over his desk. “The sun is up and we’re still breathing, Mister Zakorra. So I need you to sign here, and here. You have an appointment at two with the oversight committee, assuming we all live that long, and you have a dinner tonight at seven with the police chief.”
“Ah, Miss Bennett, you really do like to keep me working.”
“And your daughter is being transferred here this morning to be secured.” The statement was made in the same business-professional manner as she had dictated his scheduled activities.
“Oh,” he answered. “The end of days.”
“None of my business of course, but I thought you would like to know.”
“Kali and I don’t necessarily see things in the same way,” he responded. “I tried. She doesn’t share my passion.” He motioned to his collection. “She just seems to want to spend her days escaping reality.”
His security chief gave him a blank look. He shrugged and looked to the papers she had delivered to him.
“I know you’re not interested, Miss Bennett. Trust me though, when I find something of interest that I can share with her, I will do so.” He lifted the page he was to sign and stared at it from a full arm’s length away from his eyes. “What’s this one? Dimensional Threshold Interfacer? Does R&D really have time to name things like this?”
Miss Bennett removed her glasses and glared at him. “You had them rename Project Hell’s Gate to something more ‘committee friendly’ after last month’s budget review.”
“Hell’s Gate? Oh yes, I see. That budget review was a disaster, Miss Bennett. The committee wanted me to cancel the project.” He skimmed the first paragraph and noted the big words that had replaced the formerly arcane-sounding document they had tried to pass over his desk previously. “Well, I guess it does sound a little less threatening.” He preferred the old name. “It can’t fall behind schedule, Miss Bennett. It must be ready, you understand?”
“Of course, Mister Zakorra.”
He put the page back down on the desk and began to sign the required sections. “You sound disappointed by the name change, Miss Bennett. Did you prefer Hell’s Gate?”
“I prefer more mundane methods of accomplishing things.”
“You were always a traditionalist,” he replied. “There’s nothing wrong with that, but such tactics are dated. When was the last time you were in the field?”
“It’s not me I’m concerned about,” Miss Bennett responded. “Eighty-Six was assigned to field status.”
“Is she dying her hair now?” The white lock in the young field agent’s otherwise brown hair always fascinated him. He couldn’t decide whether it was bleached white, or if her hair was dyed brown. He supposed it could even be naturally occurring; it was rare but not unheard of. He of course never asked the newly instated field agent directly.
“I object to her assignment. She isn’t ready for that type of work.”
“Were you?” His question was automatic. The silence and sharp glare he received was answer enough. “Your daughter is much more focused than mine. At least Eighty-Six shows interest in the importance of a career. No doubt she’ll take on her new position with professionalism and maturity.” He thought about the comparison for a moment and then dismissed it without further comment.
He picked up the second set of forms his security chief had dropped off for him to sign and sighed. “We lost another three vehicles in the field last month? You want money for additional armour plating?” He looked up and shook his head sadly. “The number of creature incursions from the old city are down, Miss Bennett. How bad can it be out there?”
**
“This is bad!” the field agent yelled as she leapt over the burning garbage spilled out on the street next to the wrecked dumpster. She stopped behind it and tried to catch her breath while checking how much charge she had left in her stun pistol.
“Dispatch to Agent Eighty-Six, status report.” The woman’s voice that spoke through the headset sounded bored.
“This is Eighty-Six,” she answered, tucking away her pistol and pushing her white lock of hair off her sweating forehead before peeking around the corner again. She ducked back behind the dumpster before the fireball swept breathtakingly close by. “Target identified as a class seven pyro. And he’s pissed.”
“Target identified as a class seven pyro, confirmed,” the bored voice acknowledged. “Proceed with apprehension of target.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Agent Eighty-Six remarked. “Twenty-Three is down. Send backup and an ambulance.”
“No backup available at this time,” the voice answered. “Medical aid standing by and will be dispatched when the threat is nullified.”
Eighty-Six pulled her headset off and tossed it on the ground behind her. “Day one in the field and I already hate this company,” she muttered to herself as she pulled her stun pistol out of her holster. “Breathe. Focus.” She peeked around the dumpster again, only to find she was staring at a knee only inches from her face. She looked up slowly and met the glowing red eyes of her target. “Oh, hello.”
“I believe we’ve met,” the man with red eyes answered. She noted the sleeves of his shirt had been burned off to above his elbows. “I’m the target, and you’re a Sentinel field agent.” His hand burst into flames hot enough that the heat felt painful on her face. “I know the medical plan at Sentinel sucks, so why work for a company that you hate?”
The voice was so strangely calm that Eighty-Six actually sat still in her awkwardly kneeling position looking up into his face and not into the brilliantly burning ball of red-orange flame that he held in the palm of his hand.
She considered her answer. “Well,” she said, and then paused to reconsider her response. Hate was such a strong word and somehow she doubted he wanted to hear about her mother.
Conversation abandoned, the two combatants resumed their battle at the same moment. Eighty-Six threw herself back from the powerful fire spell while the target threw the burning ball in her direction. At that range he couldn’t miss throwing a basketball-sized fireball. Eighty-Six steadied her footing as the fireball passed through her chest.
It exploded three metres behind her, throwing brickwork and glass into the alleyway. Small pieces of brick sliced into the target’s singed clothing. They stared into each other’s eyes, neither quite sure how to react.
“Hey,” he said, the dark smile fading from his face. Agent Eighty-Six shot him with her stun pistol and he dropped with a yelp.
Eighty-Six waited until he stopped twitching before she dared lower her stun gun. Then she breathed out a long, shuddering breath and leaned on the dumpster for support. The rusted and dented metal was still warm from the heat of the fireball.
“Sadistic jerk,” she commented, the pistol hanging heavy in her grip. She knew she needed her headset to call for the medics and a pick-up for the now still form lying on the asphalt. She just needed the energy to take the few steps back to her discarded headset, but her feet felt so heavy she struggled to maintain the willpower required to complete the job. She tried to holster her stun pistol, twice, before succeeding at putting the weapon away.
“Transfer to a field position, they said. That’s where the fun is.” Eighty-Six was shaking her head slowly. “Three times the pay and great benefits.” She straightened her posture but wobbled unsteadily.
She looked back at the hole in the brick wall. It was large enough to climb through and the surrounding brickwork was scorched black.
“So that’s a class seven?” She turned her head back to focus on her headset and stumbled a step forward. “So what’s a class ten like?” Shuffle step. “How does one get stronger?”
She gauged the distance between herself and her headset carefully. It didn’t look broken. She kicked at the brickwork gently with the side of her foot to clear a patch of pavement before dropping to one knee. From how heavy her body felt she knew she wasn’t going to be standing back up.
“How come the bad guy always gets to be so much more powerful?” she complained. It took everything she had and more just to fight the unnaturally tired feeling. She sat down heavily on the pavement and remained still for a moment. Then, she pushed her hand forward and felt for her headset. Eighty-Six fumbled with it with her fingers a few times before getting a good grip and pulling it close enough to hold to her ear.
“Does this thing still work?” she asked into the mic.
The bored voice answered. “Please provide a status report, Agent Eighty-Six.”
“Oh, good,” she answered, feeling evenly relieved and annoyed. “Target is neutralized. Two agents down. Need immediate backup and med-evac.”
“Please confirm that target has been neutralized.”
“Screw it, I’m going to pass out now,” Eighty-Six answered. “Send help.” She tossed the headset away and slid back so she could rest against the wall. She remained still for a moment longer, looking at the downed target while she considered her aches and pains.
“Super powers are so exhausting.” She allowed herself a small smile.
And then she closed her eyes.
**
It was noon by the time Kali arrived at her father’s building, riding in the back of a white, unmarked police car. She stared upward at the steel-grey and tinted glass building with a sense of foreboding.
She glanced to the cop who had delivered her, but he was too busy organizing his paperwork and recording information. Looking back up at the building, she noted that the lack of signage made it more intimidating.
“Y’know,” she started conversationally, “you could just drop me off at the city limits. I’ll take a hike and never come back.”
The cop wasn’t as amused by her suggestion. “Sure. We’ll just add my career to your list of destruction.”
“I was only joking.”
“You rich kids… You’re lucky to get off so light! You caused a lot of destruction. Lives ruined.”
Kali looked through the steel grating at the police officer who still busied himself with his paperwork. “I was aiming for the garbage can. Vandalism charge, at best. Besides, the three people who lived there won the Zakorra lottery. Million each, wasn’t it?” Her father worked fast to pay off the former occupants of the building. She had a grand conversation about it with the guard who had brought her breakfast.
She frowned as she looked at her hands. She cracked her knuckles and noted the green sparks that jumped into the air with each pop. It was becoming harder to control her wonderful jinx powers.
The cop paused and then lay down his pen before looking back at her. He was a younger patrol officer, probably drawing the short straw to get this particular assignment.
“How did you knock down a building, anyway?”
“Did nobody warn you about me?” Well, that was reassuring. “The representative from Sentinel described me as a class four probability bender.”
The cop showed no recognition of what she said. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention.” Her lie seemed to deflate him. She decided to tell him anyway. If he had drawn the short straw, his supervisor had left him dangerously unprepared. “I’m bad luck. I affect probability in a negative fashion, in an uncontrolled way.”
“I don’t see how bad luck can knock a building down.”
Leaning back in the seat, Kali tried to look as relaxed and unthreatening as she could. “Here’s a hypothetical scenario. Had I tried to use my powers on your car to escape on the way over, possible outcomes could have ranged from a flat tire, a rock breaking the window, or maybe a breakdown. I can’t control what happens. I can only cause something to happen.”
He remained silent for a moment, though the look on his face had faded from the open curiosity to something much more guarded. “You didn’t, right?”
Kali rolled her eyes. “The building was an accident.” She looked again at the Sentinel office and after a few moments she could hear papers being shuffled once more.
“Sentinel dissects the monsters they capture. Do you know what they do to people like me?”
“I’m only here to put you into custody of your father.”
“But do you know what Sentinel does to people like me?” It was a question that now bothered her greatly. “I know most of the company inside and out but…” She looked back to her escort worriedly. “Doesn’t the police know?”
“Never thought of it before.” The reply was spoken as though he wasn’t going to spend time thinking about it now or ever again.
Then she noted the woman in the business suit and steel-rimmed glasses glaring at the patrol car from the door. Kali shrank down into the seat.
“I don’t want to find out either,” she said.
The police officer gathered up his papers noisily and grabbed his cap and put it on before stepping out of the car. Like a chauffeur, he walked around the car and opened the back door for her.
“Come on,” he told her. “Let’s get this over with.”
She looked at him uncertainly before doing as asked and getting out of the car. A moment’s glance at Bennett was enough to confirm that she remained fixed rigidly in place before the doors, and that if anything her gaze had become heavier upon her.
Bennett spoke as they approached the door. “I thank you officer, I can take Miss Zakorra from here.”
“I’m sorry, I’m to release her to Gregory Zakorra’s custody only.”
Kali looked from the woman to the officer hopefully before she cast her gaze back to the concrete at her feet. She didn’t want to be left alone with Bennett for any length of time.
“Mister Zakorra is extremely busy. I am in charge of security, and I assure you I can handle his daughter.”
“Rules are rules.”
“Very well,” she answered, sounding to Kali as though she were displeased by the situation. “Follow me, please. You too, Miss Zakorra.”
Kali didn’t dare say a word as she followed her escorts.
**
It was starting to look like another quiet day when she walked through the battered door marked with his name. He could tell by the way she looked around his office at the various articles regarding solved cases decorating the walls that she was nervous. She was dressed well, if casual. Her blonde hair and looks were more than above average and her appearance in his office was clearly the bright spot to his otherwise dull day.
He guessed she was here about her husband. Or a lover. Or somebody who was a luckier man than he was to have a dame such as her.
“Excuse me,” she said in a cautious voice. “I’m looking for a Mister Hunter.”
He removed his fedora and put it on his desk.
“Good afternoon, I’m Hunter,” he responded, throwing her a wry grin. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, um… Well, I thought you might be able to help me find my brother.”
“Your brother is missing?” It escaped his mouth before he could stop it, but at least he suppressed the hopeful smile from his face.
“Yes, my brother went missing. I’m sorry, this is all very strange.”
“I deal with strange every day,” he responded soothingly. “Please, take a seat.” He waited for her to sit down and make herself comfortable in the chair across the desk from him. “Now, how long ago did your brother go missing?”
She looked at him before fidgeting with her purse. “This morning.”
Paul blinked in surprise. He was certain that the toothpick that he had been holding in his mouth made an audible sound as it bounced off his desk and onto the floor.
“This morning,” he repeated before looking at the large, circular clock on the wall. It was only twenty to one. “Um, are you sure he’s missing? He might just be stuck in traffic.”
“Oh no, he’s missing.” The woman nodded rapidly as she spoke, as though it would give strength to her declaration. “I know, he phoned me.”
Paul closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers over his eyelids slowly. He found himself wanting a drink.
“Your brother phoned you to tell you he was missing, Miss…?” He motioned for her to provide her name so that he might actually complete his statement of disbelief.
“Oh, my name is Vanessa Milos,” she said, almost apologetic. “And yes, my brother called me to say that he wouldn’t be coming home any more. He sounded like he was in trouble.”
Paul blinked again, but supposed that it did sound as though she might actually have a reasonable job for him to do.
“Okay, I’m sorry I overreacted, darling. I’m guessing he didn’t actually say what kind of trouble he was in, right?” She shook her head. “And he’s never got into trouble before, right?”
“Well, he does have a bit of a hot temper,” the embarrassed answer returned. It carried an odd emphasis on the ‘hot temper’ that Paul wasn’t sure he understood. “But I swear he is getting help with that.”
Paul nodded absently. “Uh huh. Okay, maybe you might have a case here. Are you sure you want me to start looking so soon, though?”
She stared at him.
“Okay, well, my rate is two hundred an hour and all reasonable expenses covered.”
“Of course. That shouldn’t be a problem.”
The lack of hesitation on her part at his rate suggested to him either this was pocket change to her or she knew she was getting a winning deal in this. He had the feeling that this case would mean trouble. Paul shrugged. What the heck, it wasn’t like he had a case in days anyway.
“What’s your brother’s name, Miss Milos?”
“Charles,” she answered.
“Charles Milos?” Paul asked. He pulled out his notebook and started to doodle in it. He didn’t need to take notes as he had a pretty good memory. Appearing like he was taking notes, however, seemed to set his clients at ease.
“Yes. He’s about six foot, fairly average build. Brown hair. Red eyes. Oh, and he likes to dress well.”
“Likes to dress well,” Paul repeated as he completed a diamond shape on his notebook. He took his pencil off the page and looked over to his client. “Sorry, red eyes?”
“Yes, he has red eyes. They have a bit of a glow too.”
Even more slowly, Paul put his notebook and pencil down and leaned over his desk. “Glowing red is not normally an eye colour, Miss Milos. It sounds as though he’s got the infection.”
“Will you help him?”
Paul leaned back in his chair and considered the job. Dealing with infected people was a little outside his comfort zone. It wasn’t well understood and the thought of it frightened people. It was somewhat difficult to trust somebody with unknown demonic powers.
On the other hand, he’d never actually known anybody to get the infection. It didn’t seem to be contagious and it was exceedingly rare.
Besides, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
“Yeah, I’ll take the case.” He picked up his notepad and pencil again. “Let’s go through every detail you can remember.”
**
Kali sat in a chair outside her father’s office, unhappily waiting for the fireworks to start. She held her hands in her lap and fidgeted. At the moment, it seemed all was going too well. She could hear her father’s voice sounding too cheerful and exuberant behind the closed door. The officer’s voice was quieter, muffled beyond any interpretation.
The trouble was Miss Bennett. The woman’s office was right beside her father’s and Kali had a clear view of Bennett from where she sat. Although there was a computer screen facing the Sentinel security chief, Bennett frowned at Kali instead.
Strangely, being arrested didn’t feel near as intimidating as the waiting now.
A phone rang. The unexpected noise made Kali jump. She glanced at Miss Bennett, who answered the phone on the second ring. The security chief never took her eyes off Kali through the process and began talking in a soft but clipped way to the person on the other end.
Then Kali tumbled to the floor. She wasn’t hurt, but the surprise stunned her for a moment. She glanced at the chair and noted the broken leg. The next thing she did was look to Miss Bennett. As it turned out, it was a wasted moment as nothing changed there. The steel-rimmed glasses were still aimed at her where she lay on the floor, the woman having leaned back from her computer to keep Kali in view.
“I want to thank you for coming. I understand you boys were just doing your jobs and all.”
That was, of course, when the door opened and her father showed the police officer out. Miss Bennett cut her phone call short and moved to stand at attention at her office door.
“I assure you, my daughter will not be getting into any further trouble.”
Kali picked herself off the floor and shuffled out of the way. She earned an uneasy look from the police officer, but her father didn’t seem to notice. If he had, he certainly didn’t show it.
“Miss Bennett, can you show the good man out, please?”
The woman gave a short nod, glared at Kali once more, then calmly walked the police officer down the main hallway. The receding clipped noise of heels on the polished hallway floor was a momentary relief.
It didn’t last. Bracing herself, Kali looked back to her father.
“Well,” he told her informatively. He looked as uncertain about what to say as she was.
Kali went with the standard approach. “Sorry. I’m sure I’m interrupting something important.”
“No. Not really. Although I was just going through some preliminary reports regarding the capture of a class seven pyro downtown this morning. It really looks like a fascinating capture. We only just got him into the building.”
He stopped and smiled at her. “But I have come to the stunning realization that I have been a terrible father.”
The smile seemed a little bizarrely matched to his statement. Kali felt that sense of foreboding growing stronger once more.
“You haven’t been exactly… normal,” Kali answered, taking a step back from him.
“What is normal? In this world, normality itself seems to be breaking down.” He motioned for her to accompany him and he gently put a hand on her shoulder. She supposed it should have been a reassuring touch. “But, today I realize I should be spending more time together with you. We should find something of interest that we share in common.”
They walked out into the hallway where Kali had seen people walking around previously, but now seemed disturbingly empty.
“We don’t have any interests in common.”
“I think we do, and I think you’ve been hiding it from me.” The hand on her shoulder tightened ever so slightly. “I’ve been trying to teach you how the company works for years. I wanted you to be able to assist me with my work. I think you might actually find yourself at home here, helping the world understand this phenomenon. You could become a real asset to my team here. Did you know that Miss Bennett has a daughter working here that’s about your age?”
“I’m really not all that curious about Miss Bennett,” Kali remarked, though now she was morbidly curious as to what a family dinner around that table would be like.
“You know, I always thought you were just accident-prone. I never thought that my own daughter would exhibit such interesting abilities. Did you know that your abilities are by far the rarest yet identified? You are the second probability bender ever found.”
Miss Bennett stepped into sight at the far end of the hallway, with two grey-uniformed men at her side.
“Miss Bennett, will you show my daughter to her new room, please?” He turned Kali towards him and smiled pleasantly at her. “We really will enjoy working with you.”
It looked like she was finally going to learn what Sentinel did with humans like her. Kali swallowed nervously.
**
It didn’t take much to find out what happened to Miss Milos’ lost brother. By four in the afternoon, Paul stood outside the big, modern glass building and looked upward. It looked just like several other glass office towers scattered throughout the downtown core. This particular one, however, was owned by Sentinel Security, a private firm that dealt with monsters and magic mayhem.
Business must have been good.
Sentinel’s mission statement meant that they also took in those who were infected that broke the law. It’s not like the police could contain somebody with powers without constant supervision.
He dialed Vanessa.
“I found your brother, Miss Milos,” he told her when she answered the phone. “Looks like his temper flared up and he caused some damage. Sentinel has him in custody.”
He hesitated as he listened to the almost hysterical response. “I’m sure your brother is fine,” he lied. “I’m not supposed to get involved in actual crimes, Miss Milos. The cops don’t look fondly on my stepping around their suspects. Sentinel is holding Charles on their behalf. He’ll be fine.”
Milos wasn’t accepting his logic so easily, though, and he had to suffer in silence for a long moment. He rested his forehead in the palm of his free hand as he listened to her tirade.
“I know you’re paying me to look into this but I don’t see how me checking on him is worth your money.”
Paul looked skyward before nodding to himself. It wasn’t as if proving that Sentinel had her brother was going to be much trouble. “Of course, Miss Milos.” He hung up and stared at the door while unwrapping a fresh toothpick and putting it between his lips.
This would be the easiest money he ever made and adding an extra hour to the bill wouldn’t hurt. Besides, he wasn’t exactly interfering with any investigations.
Paul strode inside the reception area, glancing quickly at the spartan interior design. The floor was polished green marble and there were a couple of framed certificates on the walls, but other than that there was only a single desk with one bored-looking elderly receptionist on duty. Behind her were the elevators that would take employees to the floors above. The overall impression was of a corporate office, not a private police force.
The receptionist broke the silence first. “May I help you?”
Paul straightened his fedora and leaned his arms on the desk. “I’d like to see the man that was brought in this morning. Charles Milos. I have reason to believe you are detaining him.”
The receptionist stared at him, though she must not have heard him. She didn’t react at all to his accusation. So he took the toothpick out of his mouth and pointed it at her.
“Your company captured him this morning. It was all over the news! Burned down half the city!”
She blinked absently at him. Paul wondered if she may have some hearing difficulties. So he spoke louder and slower.
“I know you are holding him here.” He was careful to enunciate each syllable as carefully as he could. “I would like to see him.”
She stared at Paul.
He tried staring back. It lasted several moments beyond awkward before he looked away in disgust. He needed to regroup and rethink his strategy.
He pointed his toothpick at the receptionist again, though she looked unimpressed by it. “I will be back,” he promised. “I will be back and I will find where you are hiding him.”
He continued to meet her stare, somewhat impressed at her ability to emote nothing through the entire exchange. Turning abruptly, Paul stalked out of the reception area and back into the street.
He paused outside the door and replaced the toothpick in his mouth. Sentinel seemed to like to keep secrets. It seemed this case was going to be an interesting one after all. He needed two things to help him with this one, the revolver he kept locked in his desk and a stiff drink. He shoved his hands deep within his pockets and stalked away to find the last one first.
**
Pouring a glass of Merlot that he kept behind his desk, Gregory Zakorra replayed the events of the day in his head. He almost missed that Bennett had entered his office. That she was still in the building at this hour was of no surprise, but this floor was off her nightly routine.
“Distracted, Miss Bennett?” he asked, knowing that she would glare at him through her steel-rimmed glasses. “You know,” he said as he lifted his glass and instead offered it to her. She didn’t react so he kept it for himself. “It doesn’t matter how much you train, I can’t have you reassigned to the field. Your eyes may still be beautiful, but I’m afraid they just aren’t as sharp as they used to be.”
“I can see well enough, Mister Zakorra.”
“You can with those,” he said, pointing at her glasses. He took a quick sip of his wine, knowing that this conversation would be painful for both of them if it stayed on the current topic.
“Other agents wear glasses.”
“Other agents are expendable,” he answered sharply before he forced his emotions aside. “I need your experience to guide the company forward into the new world, Miss Bennett. I’m the voice, but you are the heart.”
He could tell by emotion displayed in her eyes that she disagreed.
Another topic was thrown out to redirect Bennett’s anger. “How is our young Agent Eighty-Six? That was quite the capture today. I never expected she had it in her.”
The tension in Bennett’s body eased, though if he hadn’t known her for so long he would have missed it. It was clear the hatred still floated near the surface but the calculations going through the woman’s head caused her features to relax and soften.
“Her report in regard to this morning’s capture is lacking,” Miss Bennett responded. “There isn’t enough detail, but the fact remains she made the capture with only minor injuries to herself. I will go over expected reporting details with her.”
“You should be celebrating her first capture,” he commented. “A victory is a victory.”
“It depends on what else is lost,” Miss Bennett remarked.
He looked at her, searching her face for some sign of what she may have meant. “Is that a regret I hear, Miss Bennett? Come now, your daughter is to be the next pillar of this company. We should congratulate her, build her up.”
This time his security chief visibly expressed her surprise. Even the eyes looked confused behind those glasses.
“She has been trained as a field agent.”
“We started Sentinel in the field, Miss Bennett,” he reminded her while remembering the early days of Sentinel. “Eighty-Six is young. She has time to learn what she needs.” Besides, it wouldn’t much matter what any of the Bennett family did. He had already locked his course for the future.
Bennett looked thoughtful for a moment before responding with another question. “What of your daughter?” she asked.
“I have thought about what to do with Kali long enough. I’ve been worried about her lack of direction, and more recently the appearance of this manifestation within her. I had an epiphany when I learned of this morning’s success. Kali may be my first choice, but she is not my only daughter.”
The reaction from Bennett was immediate and there was no concealing the hatred she held for him. “You do not get to call her that!” This was another topic fraught with danger, perhaps more than the first one, but it too had to be spoken.
“I will not intrude on your territory, Miss Bennett. I’ll even concede that it might even be for the best if I continue to stay out of her life. But, you must admit, Eighty-Six has shown much more professionalism than Kali.”
“If you so much as hint of that past again, Mister Zakorra, I will personally remove your head from your shoulders.”
“I always look to the future, Miss Bennett. Each day is one closer to Paradise.”
Bennett didn’t bother to answer him before she stormed out of his office and slammed the door shut behind her. He looked at his wine and studied the crimson liquid. It brought forth worrying imagery of Bennett attempting to follow through on one of her many threats one day.
“I’ve made a lot of sacrifices for the sake of this world. And no matter the end result, I will always be known as the madman.”
He tipped his glass back and finished the rest of the wine in a single motion.
© 2016 J. R. Dwornik
Purchase
