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  “How was Guatemala?” she asked, waiting until he climbed into the back seat of the car before she slid in beside him.

  “Productive.” Once enclosed in the vehicle, Caesar put up the privacy window. “Orders have changed. We’re not going to kill the triplets, yet.”

  That was surprising, Kayla thought. “What about their team at the sacred site?”

  Caesar shrugged. “Tony told me they’d take care of it. They are probably just waiting until some sacred day to kill them, and the triplets, too. You know how much they like their rituals.”

  That Kayla did know. Dark memories of cold, shadowy rooms and the smell of blood still plagued her dreams. “Victor is becoming useless. He got caught cheating, and Simone is going to divorce him.”

  “Fucking idiot. Have Dominic get rid of him before he ends up shooting his mouth off.”

  “All right.”

  “Nicholas still earning his keep?”

  Kayla slowly nodded. “He’s been very helpful with small, fill-in-the-gap bits of information here and there.”“That’s a real hard ass, right there. I probably would have been pretty fucking pissed off if I’d lost my family like that when I was supposed to have inside information.”

  Kayla turned her head to look out the tinted window, watching the island scenery flash by. “His father knew. He decided not to tell him.”

  Caesar laughed. “What a fucked up family.” He dropped his head back against the seat. “How was the funeral?”

  Her father’s letter came to mind. She should tell him. If Marcello knew about her and Caesar, it was possible other family members did, too. It was information that should be reported. Kayla decided not to. She would have to share the details of Marcello’s letter with him, and she didn’t want to do that. That was hers. She would play this one herself, and if exposure was a true threat, she would deal with it then. “Typical. I reined Olivia and Amadeo back in. They should be monitored, though.”

  “Put Dominic on it. He’s good at that.”

  “All right.”

  “Are the triplets in their ivory tower?”

  “Yes.” Kayla looked over. “Are you going to see them?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to pay Vasco a visit. If he’s been through his past life therapy session, I want to know if remembers me. And if he does, that might be enough leverage to get the Brotherhood to let us kill them sooner, rather than later.”

  Kayla studied Caesar for another moment, then merely nodded and stared straight ahead. If Vasco was Stefano, the master of wearing the veil, then Caesar’s plan wasn’t likely to succeed. Marcello had welcomed him with open arms, treated him like a trusted son-in-law, yet the whole time had known differently. Kayla wondered what that kind of knowledge did to a man who loved his children despite the evil that resided within them.

  “But first, why don’t you come over here and make the boss happy.”

  Nausea spilled into Kayla’s gut. She felt a cold sweat immediately start to cling to her skin. Yet she smiled, turning in her seat to reach for his belt. “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter 10

  “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”

  -Ralph Waldo Emerson

  July 4, 2012 - 12:12 PM

  Alcyone Island

  Dion Corporation Headquarters

  Don move yet, please. I love tha way ya feel.”

  Vasco sat at the head of the conference table with his fingers against the side of his temple. His eyes were closed. Memories clicked away like the flash of a camera, all of Stefano Vasco Terenzio’s second wife, Cleona DeCalvante; the one Vasco had gotten a moment with this lifetime and lost after mere hours, because it was her turn to end her existence on this planet. Slowly, Vasco rubbed his fingers across his temple, as if the gesture could soothe him in some small way. He missed her. God, did he miss her.

  He supposed it was Karma. Stefano had left her, after all; a costly misjudgment that had taken him away before he’d gotten the chance to say good-bye. That misjudgment had left Cleona with seven decades of misunderstanding why Stefano had allowed himself to be killed. She thought he’d done it simply to bring his son onto the chess board. While that was true, the reason extended a lot further than that.

  Stefano had walked into those assassins’ bullets because his son had to become the heir. Marcello had been the perfect mix of strength and gentleness to set the game up to where it was now; with them in position to win. Stefano could never have stood idly by and just watched, and he had not been foolish enough to think that he would have been a good father. His death had been a catalyst that set so many other things in motion; like his sister.

  Vasco sighed into the silence and stood up, restless. He found it almost amusing to know that even in those semi-noble moments, Stefano’s ego had never been far behind; he’d also known that, when the time came, he’d be back to finish what he had started. But Vasco was realizing that his alter ego had misjudged a few things. Stefano couldn’t have known the type of man he would reincarnate as, and this man wasn’t so concerned with ego. Vasco might carry a natural affinity for wearing the veil, keeping both thought and emotion private, and his love of the game was in his blood, but he lacked the quiet excitement he had felt a lifetime before. Vasco felt robotic in his movements. He was playing the game because he had to, because he was good at it, and because he was meant to. He no longer felt any motive deeper than that. He was tired; tired of the intrigue, of the constant manipulation of pieces, and soul weary of the violence and loss that came with living the way they chose to.

  Brief, wry amusement flickered in Vasco’s eyes. If Stefano were to meet himself today, he’d call him a pussy.

  The phone on the conference table beeped, pulling Vasco back into the present. Turning around, he pressed the speaker phone button. “Yes?”

  “Dr. Medicci is here to see you, sir.”

  Vasco’s gray eyes darkened, and that thick plate of steel slammed into place. “Send him in.”

  Caesar Medicci. Kayla's handler. Enemy. The man Stefano Terenzio had hated most. Of course, Vasco knew Caesar this lifetime, and even before his experience remembering his past lives, he had never particularly liked the man. As Kayla’s husband, Caesar had been in the family for years, though he didn’t work in the Terenzio Empire. Caesar’s cover story was that he was a doctor, and often volunteered for Doctors without Borders, an international humanitarian group that worked in third world and war torn countries. Caesar’s involvement in the program explained his disappearances.

  Caesar pushed open the conference room doors and smiled warmly at Vasco. “I’m not bothering you, am I? I just wanted to pop in and see how you, your sister, and your brother are.”

  Now that the connection had been made, Vasco could see the likeness, and immediately felt an answering tension creep up the back of his neck. Caesar didn’t quite look like a typical doctor, but because of the third world countries he supposedly visited, he could get away with his shaved head, his big rough hands, and his stocky but athletic build. He did work, on occasion, at Alcyone Memorial, so his M.D. was legitimate. His smile could be easily described as comforting and warm, except it never quite touched his eyes. Few people really looked, though.

  “No.” Tempering down his urge to snatch a pencil off the conference table and slam it into Caesar’s neck, Vasco returned Caesar’s smile and walked around the table to greet him. They clasped hands and hugged, just like family. “We’re overwhelmed, but dealing. It’s good you’re back. Kayla took the losses hard.”

  “I know she did.” Caesar sighed. “I got a little teared up. Marcello was like a father to me. Kayla is a trooper, though. She’ll pull through it.”

  “It’s in the blood,” Vasco agreed. The irony of their conversation was not lost on him. “How was your trip? Where were you this time?”

  “Guatemala. It was by turns disappointing and rewarding.”

  An interesting coincidence, Vasco thought. He had no dou
bt that Caesar had been in Central America. He was also positive that Caesar had not been doing anything that even remotely resembled the kind of work Doctors without Borders did. “I’m sure that has to be hard. Lots of people need help.”

  Caesar shrugged. “You learn in this job that you can’t save everyone.”

  No, Vasco thought, but they could put people in a position to save themselves. “Wise words.”

  “How’s the leg? Rains coming in.” Caesar watched Vasco’s face closely.

  Vasco looked down at the limb. The dull ache in his left leg had alerted him of the incoming storm hours ago. It was a left-over physical reminder of his life from the past. Nearly a century ago, S.V.T had walked with a slight limp. Caesar was trying to figure out if he remembered his past life, Vasco realized, and almost smirked. Fucking amateur, Vasco thought. “Acting up like it usually does.” He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

  Lucien bumped open the conference room doors, carrying two brown paper bags. “I brought you lunch, because I’m such a good brother.” He paused mid¬-step when he saw who was in the room, and in the next second had a smile on his own face. “Well, well, welcome back, doctor.”

  Lucien was the epitome of a waste of space, in Caesar’s opinion. He forced a smile. “Thanks. Listen, I won’t keep you guys, I just wanted to let you know I was back. And if you need anything, prescription for Valium, whatever, just let me know, all right?” He smiled at them.

  “That’s awful nice of you. Isn’t it, V?” Lucien kept his expression humorous as he set the bags on the table and opened them up.

  “It is. Thank you, Caesar.” Vasco offered his hand to his enemy again. They hugged once more. Caesar gave Lucien the same embrace before he left.

  After the door swung shut, Vasco waited thirty seconds before he picked the phone up off of the conference table.

  “I’m so proud you didn’t kill him,” Lucien said as he took a seat and pulled out his sub sandwich.

  “Yet,” Vasco said while he listened to the phone ring. When the sergeant answered Vasco said, “When General Zhane gets back on base, ask him to come meet me in the conference room at the Dion Building right away. Thank you.”

  Lucien watched his brother as he hung up the phone. “You’re not sending Christopher after him, are you?”

  “No. But Caesar was in Guatemala, which means he was watching our team there.” Vasco sat down next to his brother, pulling a thick sandwich towards him.

  “Ah. Sending them some military protection?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Good call.”

  “Where’s Simone?”

  “Having lunch with Caleb in her office, and plotting to blow shit up like you told her,” Lucien said around a mouthful. “Those two have potential.”

  For just a moment, amusement passed over Vasco’s face. “Yes, yes they do.”

  §

  July 4, 2012 - 12:12 PM

  Alcyone Island

  Dion Corporation Headquarters

  Simone stood with her arms folded across her chest, studying the hologram floating in front of her. It was a map of the United States with small red icons shaped like military bases marking the location of every concentration camp.

  “I can’t believe they get away with calling them Illegal Immigrant Detainee Stations. Do they expect we’re going to be invaded by Mexicans?”

  Xavier Terenzio–Zhane’s voice came in through the speaker phone. “You would think alarm bells might go off, but no, they’re good at getting away with pretty glaringly apparent things.” Xavier worked for Alexandro in Homeland Security.

  “Centuries of practice,” Caleb said as he shouldered open the door, a deliciously smelling bag in one hand, and two sodas in a drink tray in the other.

  “That, too,” Xavier said.

  Simone caught herself smiling when Caleb walked in. “That smells delicious.”

  “Brain food. Lucien brought your brother lunch, and I promised him I’d bring you yours.” Caleb flashed a quick smile, pulled the Italian subs out of the bags, and situated them on a paper plate for her. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

  “You’re not. Thank you.” Simone touched his arm as she sat down. “Keep going, Xavier.”

  “The National Security Agency, NSA, has become the top dog. Homeland Security sits right underneath them. We are responsible for running the camps, and will be the intermediary during the transition from local law enforcement to the military, just so you understand who all the players are. The NSA has compiled three lists. People on the red list are the ones they consider the greatest threat. Those people have ascended, for lack of a better word. They’re carrying the highest vibration, and they’re lifting up others with their mere presence. They will be taken to the camp just outside of Sedona, isolated, and made examples of.”

  Simone frowned as she dropped her napkin into her lap. “Do I want to know what that will entail?”

  “No, you don’t. We’re going to try to hold off on the torture for as long as we can, for as many of them as we can, but it’s a slippery line we’ll walk. If the Brotherhood keeps to the original time table, they’ll only be in there for a week before you bust them loose.”

  “Okay. Keep going.”

  “After the red list comes the blue list. All your outspoken journalists, writers, conspiracy theorist, spiritualists, people who believe in the constitution, free speech, democracy, et cetera. Anybody who was getting ready to jump ship, or had started to pull their energy from the system, is on it.”

  “How did they determine who these people are?” Simone asked.

  “Big brother is watching,” Caleb said around a bite from his sandwich.

  “Exactly, Caleb,” Xavier said. “One of the reasons the internet hasn’t been censored is so they could monitor search terms, websites visited, and easily identify who the ‘troublemakers’ are. The NSA really doesn’t have to monitor cell phones much anymore. Social networking sites like Twitter and Facebook are telling them all they need to know.”

  Simone’s frown deepened. “Control disguised as freedom.”

  “In a sense. They’re really good at that. Hell, the NSA will buy independent journalists to purposefully set up control groups, disguised as activist organizations for some cause, just to spread dis-information. It’s called Project Chickenfeed.”

  Simone snorted and shook her head, picking up her sandwich. “I bet they get a real kick out of themselves.”

  “Wouldn’t you if you were getting away with the crap they are?”

  “I’d laugh a little bit,” Caleb said. “Thankfully, I’m not that mean-spirited.”

  “You’re secretly a really nice guy, aren’t you?” Simone shot Caleb a sideways glance.

  “Well, I’m not that nice.” Caleb winked at her.

  “Few people are. But, we only need a few.” Xavier chuckled. “Simone, Alexandro has confirmed that the information Marcello collected on the top five bases is accurate. Those are the camps your SVT teams will spring people out of.”

  Simone set her sandwich down, dusted off her hands, and pressed a button the laptop next to her. The hologram shifted, bringing up a bird’s eye view of the bases with statistical information on each scrolling down the side. She drummed her fingers on the table, thoughtfully. “I’m not sure we can handle all these.”

  “You’re going to get back-up. There is a pretty large group that will rendezvous with your team called the White Lotus Society.”

  “Chinese group?” Caleb asked.

  “Yep. You'd be surprised by how many organized and really effective groups have been giving the Brotherhood hell over the years,” Xavier said.

  “Good. The more the better,” Simone said.

  “Definitely. We’re counting on a lot of pieces falling into place, the night of. Those bases are guarded with some pretty advanced artillery, like ROWS, so it’s vital that Lucien knocks ELIMINT off line. He does that, the solar storms start, and the base will pretty much shut down.”

&nb
sp; “What are ROWS?”

  “Remote Operational Weapon Systems.” Caleb looked over at Simone. “They are heat-seeking, mechanized rifle systems that automatically lock onto anything in sensor range.”

  “Sounds like we should have a few.” Simone studied the hologram. “Talk to me about the underground bases.”

  “Okay. Tony has gotten us some great intelligence on those. For smoke and mirrors, you’re going to let Olivia and Amadeo think you’re targeting a phony list.”

  Simone nodded, despite the fact that Xavier couldn’t see her. “I’ve got that file.”

  “Good deal. Now, for the bases you’re actually going to hit. You’ll start at Mt. Shasta, California. There’s a hidden entrance in an abandoned mine shaft. The base is five levels deep, but you only have to access level one, where the station is. Set up the bomb, jump on the train, and you’ll go to Sedona, Arizona next.” As Xavier spoke, the holographic images in front of Simone shifted to show the bases’ access points. “From there, you’ll head to Dulce, New Mexico. You’ll see several different destinations on the train, but you want the Chrysanthemum Bio Genetics facility. It will be written in a very old Sumerian dialect, but you should have what it looks like in your file. Some really nasty stuff goes on there. Next stop will be Mid Way City in Kinsley, Kansas. Mid Way connects the east and west coast, hence its name. Your final stop will be in Denver, and this is the one big one. It’s right underneath the airport.”

  “The train I’ll be taking is the magneto-levitation train, right?” Simone asked.

  “That’s it. It will take you ten to fifteen minutes to travel between these spots.”