Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
CRICKET
I’m staring at the target, whose picture is pinned to the meeting room corkboard. To put it frankly, he’s gorgeous. Angelic, almost. His hair is jet black and styled like he spends time at the salon. His stubble is very neatly trimmed, just a hint of scruff that smooths out the sharp, masculine angles of his face.
His eyes are a brown so dark, they look almost black, accentuated by his thick, dark eyelashes. In a way, his eyes look menacing, but the thick forest of his eyelashes makes him look like a doll. With features so contradictory, I can’t decide if he’s dangerous, or just plain beautiful.
“What’s his name again?” I ask Vienne.
She crosses her legs and meets my stare. Over the past half hour, I’ve learned a very annoying trait about Vienne. She likes to control a conversation. If you ask a question, she’ll pause, weighing her response as if she’s deciding where to move a pawn on a chessboard. It’s so calculated, it feels disingenuous. Then again, it’s exactly how Vesper acts. Outside of their height difference, these two could be twins—in both their looks and mannerisms.
“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” Vienne asks, giving me a sly smile.
Calm down, lady. It’s not like I’m drooling . “I simply asked his name. He looks familiar.”
Vienne nods. “He tries to stay out of the spotlight, but his company is constantly featured in the news and major publications. Lochland Enterprises.”
“Lochland…Lochland… Sounds so familiar.” Callen taps his temple with one finger, his eyes rolling up as he searches his brain. “Cyber tech and robotics?”
Vesper nods and chimes in, “Yes. Lochland Enterprises is a multi-billion-dollar venture. Their robotics applications are in almost every industry. Automotive, security, aviation, and I’ve even heard about some ridiculous endeavor into AI restaurants.”
“His name?” I ask again. “His first name.”
“Gabriel,” Vienne answers, her eyes snapping to mine. “Don’t be fooled, dear. The devil is plotting behind that handsome face.”
“I wasn’t implying…” I trail off, my cheeks flushing. Not because I’m embarrassed, but because Lance gives me a wounded look, like the thought of me finding another man attractive is like a bullet through his heart.
“Why do you want him dead?” Linc cuts in. “Last I checked, we aren’t blind errand boys. If this is a personal grudge, that’s not what PALADIN does. Or did Vesper fail to explain that?”
“That’s exactly why she’s here,” Vesper answers, leaning back in her chair. “I’m actually waiting for an explanation as well. We couldn’t have this conversation anywhere other than headquarters. Vienne is worried the White House is compromised, as well as her security and assistance team. It’s why we had to work so hard to fake her flight out of the country. No one knows she’s here.”
That’s odd. Technically PALADIN was commissioned by the Oval Office a long time ago. Like it or not, we have to answer when they call, unless we want to end up on a target list.
“Excuse me?” Callen asks, his body going rigid and his cheeks growing red. “You mean to tell me I busted my ass all night, pulling impossible strings, to reroute an empty Air Force One flight?”
“There’s a small, trusted crew on board that is instructed to corroborate my story. But yes, that flight was a decoy.”
“All of that was a precaution? I thought it was an urgent life-and-death matter that we needed—” Callen stops midsentence and grits his teeth. “Eden,” he says, while glaring at Vesper. “I’d like to file a complaint with human resources.”
Eden clears her throat. “Sure.” She turns her attention to Vesper. “Vesper, Callen doesn’t appreciate you using him like an errand boy for purposeless decoy tasks.”
Vesper returns Eden’s smirk. “Noted.”
“Happy?” Eden asks Callen.
He slumps in his seat, grumbling under his breath.
“Why are we all gathered here?” Linc asks. “There has to be some reason for the theatrics, right?”
Vesper nods. “Vienne, the floor is yours.”
Vienne stands and walks to the board. Her stilettos click loudly in the silence against the tiled floor. She runs her finger over the picture of Gabriel. In an uncomfortable show of affection, she traces his face. “I met Gabriel when he was a young man. I was blown away by his intelligence. I gave him his first loan at twenty years old to develop a prototype.” She laughs. Vienne’s eyes are soft and her smile warm, like she’s reflecting on a treasured memory. “It was a robot butler, designed for hospitality. I was wildly impressed; I didn’t realize that was just child’s play to him. A little over ten years later, he’s built an indestructible empire. You can’t have a digital transaction these days without Lochland being involved in some way or another. Robotics is barely scratching the surface. He’s running the world. He could collapse the economy with a snap of his fingers.”
“There’s no crime in being rich,” Linc says.
“No, of course not. But Gabriel was the main contributor to my husband’s presidential campaign. He even moved here to D.C. to be close during the campaign in case we had any needs. He took a lot of risks and stuck his neck out to ensure my husband not only was elected but secured a second term. It was intentional.”
“You’re saying the election was rigged?” Callen asks, one brow raised.
Vienne shakes her head. “I’m saying a man who controls the economy can also control the narrative. People are easy to read, and therefore, easy to manipulate. I can tell you who the next three presidents will be right now. Leadership in this country is by design.” She pauses and steps away from the board. She leans in as close to us as possible from across the table, her thigh pressing against the edge. “Today’s democracy is by design. Yes, people vote. But—”
“You feed them their votes,” Lance says.
Vienne nods. “The internet is inception at its finest, and perception is a powerful tool. Control the world’s perception, and you control the world.”
“A very accurate thesis, but control doesn’t constitute an assassination. So, he’s manipulative? How is that any different than any other politician, your husband included?” Vesper asks.
I half expect Vienne to throw a dirty look at Vesper, but instead, she smiles. “I’d have the same skepticism. But Salazar is a good man. I fell in love with him because of his golden heart. Do you know I begged him to get off the presidential track? I thought the journey would corrupt him.”
“Has it?” I can’t help but ask.
Vienne glances at her left hand, then twists the fat diamond on her left finger. “Surprisingly…quite the opposite. You could say Sal restored my faith in humanity. Good people like him deserve a chance to do good in this world.”
“What does any of this have to do with Lochland?” Linc asks. He removes his arm from around Eden’s shoulders and crosses his forearms, the way he does when his patience is running low.
“There’s a reason Gabriel wanted my husband in office right now. We had another shot at the Oval Office about ten years ago, but the time wasn’t right. Gabriel ensured Sal was elected now… I think because he’s ready to implement his plans. My husband sees Gabriel like a son. He can’t see the monster in his eyes. Sal gives him access to resources, clearances, and permissions that he simply shouldn’t have. And now, Sal can’t see that we’ve lost control. I know whatever Gabriel is working on is massively destructive. He could collapse the world, and us all.”
I furrow my brows. “What’s the point? To be the ruler of an empty world?”
Vesper, who is usually stoic and poised, sucks in a sharp breath. It’s quiet, but enough of a reaction from Vesper to capture all of our attention.
“What’s wrong?” Linc asks.
Vesper turns to Vienne, ignoring Linc. “He’s acting on behalf of Aeon.”
Vienne smooths her long hair as her eyes drop to the ground. “No, Vesper. Aeon acts on behalf of Gabriel.”
I can read the tension on Vesper’s face. I’m not used to this look. She seems disturbed, which is unsettling, because as far as I know, Vesper isn’t afraid of anything. “What is Aeon?” I ask.
“A doomsday, terrorist organization that lives to serve an old prophecy about world destruction. I mentioned them to Lance a couple of weeks ago,” Vesper says.
“Of course.” I roll my eyes. “More secrets between you two.”
Lance exhales and rolls his eyes even harder than I did. “Keep going. That tantrum looks good on you, C.”
“Shut up,” I snap back.
“Enough,” Vesper barks. “I’ll deal with you two later. Vienne…” Vesper rises to her feet, her chair rolling backward. She makes her way to the picture on the wall. “He’s early thirties?”
“Yes.” Vienne nods.
Vesper shakes her head. “It doesn’t make sense. We’ve been hunting the leader of Aeon for as long as I can remember. Not even the disciples of the organization know who they answer to. It has to be someone far more mature.”
“Aeon elects leadership based on ability, not age.”
“And how would you know?” Vesper asks, giving Vienne a dangerous stare.
“I’ve been a trophy wife in politics for a long time, Vesper. I overhear a lot of conversations that no one thinks I’m listening to. I get left alone and ignored in a lot of secret rooms… Also, admittedly, I’m a snoop.” She smiles.
Vesper doesn’t smile at her joke. “Even if you’re telling the truth, your accusation is baseless. PALADIN doesn’t kill without cause.”
“Aren’t you commissioned by my husband’s office?”
Vesper narrows her eyes. “We’re commissioned by cause. Prove that Gabriel is who you say he is, then we’ll handle him…swiftly.” Vesper glances at Linc. Of course, he’s her go-to choice if she needs a job handled quickly, professionally, and with the utmost subtlety. Linc is about as close as PALADIN gets to a robot.
“And if I were to command you?” Vienne asks Vesper, lifting one brow.
“I’d tell you you’re well out of jurisdiction. Especially seeing as this request is coming behind your husband’s back.” Vesper’s tone is cool and icy. Vienne turns to look at the rest of the room and opens her mouth as if she’s about to ask us to weigh in, but Vesper taps her fingers loudly against the table. “Don’t look at them; look at me,” she insists. “My team, my family. And I speak for all of us.”
“There’s no need to get heated,” Vienne replies, showing Vesper her palms. “And anyway, we can’t just kill Gabriel. We were once very close to each other, but now we’ve drifted. I think he knows I’m suspicious of him. I don’t know what his plans are, and now he’d never confide in me. Aeon is self-sacrificial. He’d die for the cause. It doesn’t matter if he’s dead if his plans still play out.”
“And what exactly do you think his plans entail?” Callen asks.
“For starters, a massacre of the White House and everyone it contains. As I mentioned, Aeon means to send a message to the world. Down with the king, and the rest of the pawns will topple.”
“And if you’re wrong, we kill an innocent man off of a harebrained suspicion that it’s very possible you conjured up in your mind,” Vesper says, looking once again at Gabriel’s picture. “It doesn’t make sense to me how this could be the leader of Aeon. He’s so young.”
“And if I’m right, and we don’t act,” Vienne says, “America will fall, and we’ll get to witness the whole world burn… very soon by my estimation.”
Vesper looks tortured. She collapses back in her seat, and her eyes go stony as she thinks.
“Either way, we don’t have long to make a decision. They’ll notice I’m missing soon. I don’t know anyone else who can handle a mission like this outside of PALADIN, Vesper,” Vienne explains. The look she gives Vesper is unmistakably pleading. “I came to you over anyone else because I trust you. I’m asking you to trust me.”
The room falls silent for so long that Vienne takes a seat. She has no choice but to wait through Vesper’s deliberation.
After an uncomfortable long pause of silence, Vesper finally speaks. “I’m undecided. Eden is my number two. This is her decision.”
We’re all shocked, but none more so than Eden. Her eyes pop into big, brown saucers as she gawks at Vesper, then me. I shrug my shoulders, the only answer I have for her.
“I’m your what? ” Eden squalls.
“I don’t trust my judgment right now, but I trust Eden’s,” she explains. “She has an innate skill of reading a situation and coming up with solutions. Her conscience, unlike the rest of ours, is clear. She’s no killer.” Vesper rests her eyes on Eden and gives her an encouraging nod. “We take the mission, or we don’t. Your decision.”
Eden looks around the room for help, but we’re all useless. Vesper spoke in that matter-of-fact tone that tells us her decision is made, there’s no talking her out of it. Eden has no choice but to drop her head and think through the scenario.
Vienne is patient for as long as she can be, but after checking the watch on her wrist, she says, “Ms. Eden, I need an answer. I can’t be gone for too much longer without my husband noticing. Our window is limited.”
Eden licks her lips. “Well… I don’t…” She trails off.
“Eden,” Vesper says in a soothing voice. “You saved the world once by telling the truth. Just speak your truth. What do you think?”
“ Truth…” Eden whispers. “We need the truth. Okay, Vienne…or Mrs. Baker…or First Lady Baker? I’m sorry, I don’t know what to call you.” Eden shrugs and then shrinks in her seat.
“Vienne is fine,” the First Lady responds.
“What’s Gabriel’s romantic life like?” Eden sits back upright.
“Probably the same as any other thirty-year-old with good looks and more money than God himself,” she replies.
“Strippers?” Callen asks.
“Escorts,” Vienne adds. “He likes to keep his dalliances transactional.”
“From what I gather, we need to uncover Gabriel’s plans first and foremost. So…”
“Yes?” Vienne presses.
“If he’s as collected and calculating as you claim, our best way in is a distraction.”
“Being?” Vesper asks.
“A beautiful woman.”
“He has plenty of those,” Vienne chides bitterly.
“Right…he has plenty. We need a beautiful woman he can chase. One that’s just out of his reach. Someone who can make him obsessive and sloppy, giving us a window if he slips up. Vienne, if you know him well, you could guide us—what he likes, what he doesn’t. With your help, maybe we could get into his head and out-manipulate the manipulator. If we find out he has lethal plans, we’ll act to protect the public. If we find nothing, then Gabriel lives, and we never speak of this again.”
“Okay. So, you’re thinking a CIA or FBI agent undercover, reporting back to us?” Callen asks.
Eden shakes her head. “Oh, no. We don’t need any more hands in the pot. I don’t trust the government with this. We need someone seductive but lethal. Someone who can go completely underground and undercover and protect herself if things go south. We need an assassin and a spy.” Eden turns in her chair to face me head-on. “Cricket?”
Lance is the first to let out a loud scoff. He’s trying to play off amusement at Eden’s statement, but he comes out looking incredulous. “You can’t be serious right now.”
Ignoring Lance’s protests, she continues, “What do you say? Are you up to making a billionaire fall in love with you?”
I lift my eyes to stare right into Lance’s horrified expression. Going undercover? A break from PALADIN? A chance to think on my own? The choice is far too easy.
“Hell yes. I’m in.”