Synarchy Book 2: The Ascension Page 16

  “Are you keeping anything else from me?” Caesar demanded, tightening his grip.

  “No.” She met his eyes. “Nothing.”

  Caesar stared at her for a long time before he released her. “Go clean yourself up. I’m taking you to one of the training centers for an update on your programming.”

  “Yes, sir.” Drawing herself up, Kayla walked obediently past him.

  Caesar tracked her movements, frowning. If Marcello had known, then he had to have someone on the inside. Caesar snatched his sandwich off the plate and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Joseph Mengele had died years ago in a house fire. Kayla’s secret should have died with him, because the file on Project Mannequin was in the Vatican’s Secret Library. That meant someone either brought Marcello the file, or Marcello somehow found Mengele. Dropping his sandwich Caesar walked quickly through the house and over to his laptop. It took him ten minutes to access the old case file on Mengele.

  “Son of a bitch.” Caesar frowned deeply. The date SVT Securities had acquired the file was the date that Mengele died. There were notes that the Brotherhood suspected that Mengele had been murdered, and launched a private inquiry specifically to find out if Terenzio could have done it. Caesar eyes narrowed as he read that Matthew DeMarco had led the internal investigation and concluded that no foul play was involved; Mengele had died of a horrible accident.

  Caesar didn’t buy it. Especially now. Either Matthew DeMarco had killed Mengele and given Marcello the file, or Marcello had done it, and Matthew had covered up for him. Caesar suspected it was probably the latter.

  “Those fucking traitors,” he said to himself. Caesar had never, ever trusted the DeMarco family or their loyalties. It had really burned him when he’d been forced to report to Tony. From his past life, Caesar clearly remembered how close DeMarco had been with the Terenzios.

  The DeMarcos were Illuminati, though. They were so entrenched on the inside that he couldn’t dare accuse them of being traitors. That would be signing his own death warrant. Caesar rubbed his hands over his bald head, thinking. Eventually, he closed his laptop and went upstairs to get his things, a plan forming in his mind. He’d just have to prove it.

  §

  July 10, 2012 - 6:33 PM

  New Orleans, LA

  DeMarco Family Estate

  “Uncle Tony’s here!” Seven year-old Bobby DeMarco came running into the foyer and threw himself against Tony’s leg.

  The sight of the boy brought flashbacks, clicking away fast and disturbingly vivid behind Tony’s eyes. He knelt down, pulling his nephew away from his leg and held him at arm’s length. Bobby’s face was full of color, his hair mussed, his big blue eyes bright and alive; so unlike the face of the child that Tony had been forced to kill. “Bobby the Man DeMarco.” Tony forced a smile and drew his nephew into him, hugging him tightly.

  “Yer shaking, Uncle Tony. Are you cold?”

  “He’s just fine, Bobby. Your mother is calling you.” Alex stood in the archway, watching his brother and his son.

  Tony sucked in an uneven breath and drew back, plastering the smile back onto his face. “I’m okay. We’ll throw the ball around a little later, all right?”

  “Sweet!” Bobby turned around, and with the never¬-ending energy of a child, went running off in search of his mother.

  Tony rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked over to his brother. “I wasn’t expecting—”

  “It to hit you like that? I know. I didn’t, either.” Alex gave him a tight hug. “You did what you had to do.”

  “Yeah.” Tony knew his brother was right, but that didn’t make it any better. “So, what’s up?”

  “Come with me.” Alex squeezed Tony’s shoulder and led him into his home office. He closed and locked the door once they were safely inside. “My meeting with Michael went well.”

  Tony walked over to his brother’s mini bar to make himself a stiff drink. “Who’s Michael?”

  “The Archangel Michael.”

  Tony turned around, glass in hand, and blinked. “I thought you were going to meet with the Ascended Masters?”

  “So did I. At any rate, we are to stay the course. He also provided us with the communication devices we’ll need, when the time comes.” Alex walked over to his humidor and pulled out a cigar, offering it to his brother.

  Tony shook his head at the cigar. “Okay. What else?”

  Amusement suddenly slid over Alex’s face. “He gave me a gift to give to you. Gabriella.”

  Tony took a healthy swallow of his bourbon, enjoying the warming burn as it coated the back of his throat. He looked at his brother curiously. “Michael gave you a woman to give to me?”

  Alex chuckled. “Sort of. Look behind you.”

  Quirking a perplexed brow, Tony turned around and jumped. “Whoa. What the hell is that?”

  Floating in front of him was a tiny being, no more than eight inches tall. Her wings were translucent and fluttered at a dizzying speed. She had a beautiful, tiny face—or she would have, if not for the long white beard that stretched from her chin. A gold helmet sat on her head. She giggled at Tony and zipped over to his glass, poking her head into it.

  “I’m not sure what the proper terminology for her is. I just call her a mini-angel. Michael said you would need her.” Alex watched in sheer amusement as the tiny being sucked up a sip from Tony’s glass, then coughed.

  “Number one, Tinkerbell, get your own liquor.” Tony pinched his fingers around one of her legs and pulled her out. “Number two, what the fuck am I going to need it for?”

  “He didn’t say. Think of her as your guardian angel.” Alex clipped the end of his cigar, watching his brother.

  Tony frowned, letting the mini-angel go. She zipped around his head and found a seat on his shoulder, crossing her legs. “I’m fine, Alex. I don’t need a babysitter. Especially not this dwarf-pixie-angel thing.”

  Gabriella huffed at Tony and looked offended. Alex laughed. “Antonio, you could at least be polite.” He grew serious after his laughter died down. “And you are not fine. None of us who have to sit this close to evil are.”

  “They’re not evil. They’re just fulfilling their soul’s obligations. They simply are, remember?”

  “That is true. Even so, the things we have chosen to do are not easily cast aside. In case you haven’t noticed, your hand is still shaking.” Alex tipped his head at Tony’s hand. It trembled around his glass.

  Tony hadn’t noticed. He looked down at himself, frowning lightly. After a moment, he sighed in resignation. “Fine. She can stick around.” He knocked back the rest of his drink in a solid gulp. “Xavier has been in touch with Simone. And Amadeo and Olivia gave Enlil one of the Atlantean Crystals.”

  Alex lit the end of his cigar, pushing a thin cloud of scented smoke into the air. “How did they manage to acquire that?”

  “An Atlantean escaped from Rainbow City with one of the crystals and found his way to the wrong Terenzios.”

  Alex frowned. “We’ve got to find the other one.”

  “I think the triplets might have it. Or, their scientists do.”

  “Oh, good.” Relief passed over Alex’s face. “They’ll need it to open the Cave of Creation.”

  Tony quirked a brow. “No shit? No wonder Enlil was so happy to have found it.”

  “Does he not know there were two?”

  “Apparently not. I think he believes the triplets are pretty much fucked, now.”

  “Good. Let’s hope he keeps thinking that way.”

  Tony nodded and glanced at his…guardian angel. “Why do I get the one that looks like a cross-dresser?”

  Gabriella grinned and batted her eyelashes. Alex burst into laughter. “Oh, don’t be so superficial. I think she’s quite attractive.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve got shitty taste in women.”

  Amusement swirled through Alex’s eyes. “You’re just bitter because Mona shot you down when you asked her out.”

  Tony
suppressed a grin, getting ready for the blow he knew was coming. “That’s because she’s got shitty taste in men.”

  Chapter 12

  “Difficulties increase the nearer we get to the goal.”

  - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  July 11th, 2012 - 10:52 AM

  Denver, CO

  Blue Moon

  To get to the lower levels of the DUMB, one had to pass rigorous security protocols. It took Caesar five minutes to get through them all, and even then he was escorted, by a Grey, to the NSA offices. He went through another security check point to get into their operations center, and only then did the Grey alien leave him to handle other mundane tasks.

  Caesar strode past busy cubicles and knocked on the door to Tony’s office.

  “Come in.” Tony was standing in front of a floating LCD screen, watching data flash across it.

  “Sir, we have a situation.” Caesar closed the door behind him. “The Triplets know about Kayla and probably me.”

  Tony snapped his eyes over to Caesar. “How the fuck did that happen?”

  “Someone tipped off Marcello years ago.” Caesar watched DeMarco closely. “Someone on the inside.”

  “Motherfucker.” Tony rubbed a hand across his stubbly jaw. “Have they made any moves against you?”

  “No. For whatever reason, they are leaving Kayla in play.”

  “Probably so they don’t alert us that they know, and so they don’t give away whoever is on the inside.” Tony frowned thoughtfully.

  “Sir, Xavier is a blood relative. Perhaps he—”

  “Xavier doesn’t have that kind of security clearance. Don’t be a moron. You don’t think he’s watched twenty-four seven?” Tony walked over to his desk, snatching up his cigarette pack, and lit one up. “How did you find out they know about you?”

  Caesar tensed at the insult, but kept himself contained. “Dominic found a file about Kayla and Project Mannequin on Lucien’s computer.”

  “Whoa, whoa, time the fuck out.” Tony blew a heavy line of smoke at Caesar as he advanced on him. “Our people are snooping around the triplets’ offices? How fucking dumb are they?”

  Caesar frowned. “Sir, you said integrate and observe—”

  “Yeah, observe, not get yourselves caught! If that’s how you’ve been running your shit the last few decades, it’s no wonder Marcello found out about Kayla. We might not have a leak, just a bunch of incompetent fuckin’ agents.”

  Caesar’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Beg your pardon, sir, but if there’s a leak it’s not coming from my end. No fucking way.”

  “I’m not convinced.” Tony took another hit from his cigarette, then paused and canted his head at Caesar. “Wait, you said Marcello knew, but Dominic found the file on Lucien’s computer. How do we know that Marcello knew a fuckin’ thing about Kayla?”

  “He wrote Kayla a letter, before he died, that she failed to share with me.” If that stupid bitch got him in any more trouble, Caesar thought, he would terminate her himself without waiting for orders.

  Tony laughed without any humor. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? There’s your leak. Where is she, now?”

  “At a Training Center.”

  “You make sure she doesn’t leave until it’s hammered into her skull what side she’s playing on. And you tell your people inside to chill the fuck out. No more side ops unless you get them from me. You got it?”

  Caesar folded his arms behind his back so Tony couldn’t see his clenched hands. As annoyed as he was with the conversation, though, something wasn’t right. Tony’s logic couldn’t be faulted. Kayla may very well have, at some point, broken down and confessed to Marcello, but Caesar didn’t think the lapse in her programming was that strong. He had a strong hunch he was looking at the traitor. “Yes, sir. I don’t think it’s wise for me to be a continued presence on Alcyone.”

  “Fine. Go hole up somewhere and wait for instructions. You keep tabs on your crew, though. Think you can handle that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Wonderful. Now get the fuck out.” Tony walked back over to the LCD screen, still smoking heavily.

  Caesar saluted him, and then let himself out. An hour later, Caesar got himself into Tony’s penthouse.

  §

  July 12, 2012 - 10:10 PM

  Alcyone Island

  The Zanzibar Beach Club

  The crowd at Zanzibar was good company; a mix of civilians, military, and Dion Corp Security. The club itself sat on the beach just outside the official city limits, about two miles from the residential complex. Door less, with exposed beams that held up the thatch-covered roof, it was the perfect spot to stop at on the way home from work. A long bar sat on one side, a stage for the random musical acts on the other, with chairs and tables and oddities spaced in between, like the jukebox, a pool table (it was covered when rain was coming), and a strange totem that looked like a cross between an eagle and a phoenix that a crayon box had vomited on.

  Coming off shift (though he left each of the triplets with a small security detail), Caleb left his suit jacket in the jeep, rolled up his sleeves, and headed inside the tiki hut. He said his hellos to the regulars and landed at the bar. Leaning into it, he scanned the selection on tap, settled for a Heineken and pulled over a stool. Leone Vaughn, Chief of Police, appeared at his side a few sips in.

  “Still no fuckin’ leads. Not one.” Leone’s voice was tight with frustration.

  “Get this man something strong, Frank,” Caleb said to the bartender, looking over at his friend. “I read your report. You’re making some headway.”

  “Nothing a two year old couldn’t figure out.” Leone set his elbow on the bar and pushed his fingers back through his hair. “The number of people who even know Marcello Terenzio exists means it had to be an inside job. Someone wanted something from Marcello and Demetrius. Information. And…” He leaned closer to Caleb, speaking lowly. “…we found a bug in Marcello’s room.”

  Caleb arched a brow. “SVT Securities?”

  “Someone there, yeah, probably. Someone in the upper tier, too. It’s making me nervous how deep this could go.” Leone straightened and pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket.

  Caleb took a long, thoughtful swallow from his glass. Olivia was sloppy, leaving the device in Marcello’s room. He hoped that Leone caught her. “How’s home life?” Caleb asked, switching the topic to something he thought would be a little more light-hearted.

  Leone lifted his glass and nearly swallowed his scotch and water in one gulp. “My wife is having an affair,” he said, the lines of his richly tanned face hardening.

  Caleb almost choked on his next sip. That was completely new news. “Victoria’s cheating on you? With who?”

  “Don’t know, yet.” Even for a man in law enforcement, Leone had a gentle gaze and soulful brown eyes. But In light of current news, they got a little edgy. “But I’m gonna find out.”

  Caleb watched him, sympathetic. “How do you know, Leo?”

  “A man knows these things, Caleb.” Leone stared down into his glass. “If a man loves his wife, he knows.”

  “Love is highly overrated.” Olivia Terenzio came strolling up to the bar, sliding onto the stool next to Caleb’s.

  Caleb almost instinctively tensed, but forced the tightness from his shoulders. He turned his head to Olivia, and nodded politely. “Miss Terenzio.”

  Leone gave Olivia a quick salute. “Ma’am.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand. Her long, manicured fingers were decorated with small stoned, flashy rings. “At ease, boys. We’re all off duty right now. Mai Tai, Frank.”

  “I would have taken you for a martini drinker. Frank, put Miss Terenzio’s drink on my tab.” Leone lifted his glass in salute, finished his scotch, and pushed off the bar. He slapped Caleb on the back of his shoulder. “Have a good night. Ma’am.”

  “Goodnight, Leone.” Caleb smiled at him, making a mental note to check on him at some point tomorrow—and to let the tri
plets know about Victoria’s infidelity.

  “I would rather have you buy me a drink,” Olivia said, turning on her stool to face Caleb.

  “Sorry to disappoint you.” Caleb wasn’t, but he saw no sense in being rude. Yet, anyway.

  “You know, I never understood anyone who thought once was enough.” The curl to Olivia’s lips turned as coy as the hooding of her eyes. “Especially when it was so good the first time.”

  Caleb stared straight ahead at the racks of expensive bottles behind the bar. Everyone had a moment in which they had done something they regretted. A drunken one night stand was not an uncommon occurrence in a man’s life. Olivia had been his. Caleb had not been aware of her loyalty issues at the time, and Simone had just gotten married. Olivia had come onto him, he’d been plastered and that had been that. “That’s just the booze talking, Miss Terenzio.”

  “I’m not drunk, yet.”

  “I meant that night.” Caleb finally looked at her. Olivia wasn’t a dislikeable person. She had drive, determination, and a keen intellect. She had a hell of a temper, a foul mouth, and no liver. She was also sexy, even for a woman of her age, witty and carried a sarcastic sense of humor, but Caleb didn’t know what had ever made her so hard.

  “Mm. Maybe. ”Olivia took her tall glass from the bartender, thanking him. She studied Caleb’s profile while she stirred her straw in her glass. Her mouth slowly curled. “Dare you to test your theory.”

  Caleb slowly shook his head. He was certain that Olivia, Amadeo, or Kayla had killed Demetrius. That pissed him off, maybe more so than anyone else, because he had gotten to know her. “Miss Terenzio, I will thank you, but politely decline.”

  “Well, at least tell me who the bitch is, so I can fight her for you.” Teasing amusement laced Olivia’s tone.

  “There’s no one, Olivia,” Caleb lied, motioning Frank over to refill his glass. There was someone, but he didn’t have her. Yet.