London
near the river Thames
The
blueish green water of the river Thames was still, almost
as quiet as Octavia Kassoff’s heart. She could hear Big
Ben ring out the hour and noted the various cars crossing
the bridge each making their distinctive clunking sounds.
Sometimes
she would come here to think, other times she just wanted
to be alone and this was the only place that felt peaceful
enough and isolated enough where she could let her guard
down.
The
entire last year had been one strain after another. She
finally completed development on her pride and joy, the
artificial intelligence chip. And this wasn’t any chip.
It would help the world. It would help their military troops,
their agents and their spies to set aside their emotional
baggage and do their job properly.
Octavia
had done extensive research on the subject and the one thing
that made a mission fail was fear or the need to help. Inserting
an operative with an AI chip would make them a better agent.
Officially, she was creating this chip for the famous Scotland
Yard but unofficially, she was planning on testing the chips
on various members of the Legacy.
She
had no qualms about doing this. When had they ever really
cared about her and her research? All they wanted her for
was her expertise and her brain. Sometimes it didn’t pay
to have two doctorates and a paper that said you were a
certified genius. To tell the truth, there were times when
she didn’t feel smart at all. Look at her track record with
men. Not one of them had stayed around long enough to get
to know her. But they weren’t the only problems in the relationship.
A shrink would say that since she had issues with her father
in the past that she was making the same problems in her
current relationships. Even her assistant Dexter Vargas
was more trouble than he was worth.
At
that moment the calm was broken by the ringing of her cell
phone.
"What?"
she said, harshly. She didn’t like being interrupted when
she was trying to have quiet time.
"Inspector
Graves, from Scotland Yard called again. He wants to know
when he can expect to see a working prototype of the AI
device. He didn’t sound very happy at the new delays."
"Dexter,
we are field testing the device as we speak. I’m going over
the right now to check on our subject and make sure the
device was implanted correctly." Octavia focused on the
water as she walked down the bank toward her car.
"I
know. But... what should I tell him? He’s a rather intimidating
man."
"And
I’m a rather intimidating woman," she said in clipped tones.
"Make up an excuse – a good one this time – and I’ll see
how well our investment is doing."
Octavia
KassoffShe snapped the cell phone closed and glanced back
toward the Thames River. "Sorry our visit was so short.
Next time it will be longer, promise."
***
Most
people didn’t wonder why she hated her father. Many people
hated their fathers just because they were their biological
sperm donors. But Octavia Kassoff had a real reason to hate
her father. He was responsible for their mother’s death.
Alexi never seemed to think Isidor was involved but she
knew that he was a low down and dirty man. His alliances
with the Black Council only proved her suspicions correct.
But
she also hated Ethan Fairchild for an equally heinous reason.
He had killed her brother Alexi. Ethan tried to deny it
but in her heart, Octavia knew it to be true. This was the
main reason she was field testing the AI chip on him. He
was not only the best but if the chip failed, at least there
would be one less monster on the earth.
Ethan
tried to make her believe the rumors of the Russian mob
putting a hit out on Alexi but she could never see how that
could be possible. Alexi was a loving brother and citizen.
He would never get involved with the mafia, especially the
Russian mafia.
The
lab was quiet as she entered through the white double doors.
Her office was only a few blocks from Legacy Headquarters
so if the need arose she could make it back to work in record
time. Dexter sat where Dexter always sat, opposite a large
computer with one of the new slim monitors he had insisted
on buying himself. His blond hair was not quite the white
blond she’d seen on surfers but also not the dark blond
most considered almost light brown. It was the color of
wheat with streaks of white here and there.
He
was too young for premature gray but the highlighting effect
did make him stand out in a crowd.
"What
are you doing here?" he asked, pushing up a pair of black
chunky glasses farther up on his nose. "I thought you were
going to check Ethan.
"I
am. I just stopped by to pick up the remote in case anything
goes wrong. If he acts up, ‘click’ and I can turn him off
even without the code word."
Octavia
riffled through a drawer next to Dexter. She could feel
his eyes on her.
"What
are you staring at?"
Dexter
seemed flustered that she had caught him ogling her.
"I’m
just nervous about this whole procedure. We’re not ready
for field testing yet."
"Excuse
me? Since when did I give you the authority to have an opinion?"
Octavia located the remote control device and slipped it
into her purse.
"Since
never, but..." Dexter took a breath which seemed to give
him more confidence. "But.. We should do more testing."
"Why
are you so suspicious about this Vargas? Do you know something
I don’t?"
Octavia
laughed at her own question. "Of course you don’t know more
than me, *I* am the genius in the group. Or have you forgotten
that?"
"No,
I didn’t forget that Dr. Kassoff. I just think we should
error on the safe side. Remove the chip from Ethan. Test
it some more."
"Sorry,
no can do. I have only a little over two weeks before I
have to display this at Scotland Yard. Testing cannot wait."
Octavia
slammed the drawer closed and marched out of the office.
The
phone next to Dexter rang and he picked it up on the first
ring. "If you don’t provide the information we require,
you dear Mr. Vargas will be wallowing in your own self-made
misery."
The
caller didn’t reveal their name but Dexter knew what they
meant by self-made misery. He couldn’t let anyone know his
secret. He had struggled for weeks about transferring the
information to the hollow voice on the phone, but as each
day slipped away he found he couldn’t. But if worse came
to
worse, he didn’t know what he would do.
****
Jeffrey
Sogard wasn’t used to being suspicious of his friends, but
Faith Fairchild was acting strangely. He watched her from
the command station as he lead a team of operatives into
the field.
"Team
one approach target," he said, calmly.
Faith
walked into the weapons area and was having a casual conversation
with Boswell Chapman. The older Indian man was busy and
only had a moment to speak with her. Jeffrey wondered what
they were talking about.
"Pay
attention, Sogard," said a disjointed voice from high above
him. Jeffrey looked up to see Philip Lancaster glaring at
him.
"Sorry,
sir."
He
put his concentration back to the mission at hand and tried
to put Faith’s presence in Legacy Headquarters out of his
mind. He successfully accomplished this for about an hour.
When
he managed to make his way to the weapon’s area both Faith
and Boswell were gone. He couldn’t help but wonder what
had transpired. He heard about Faith’s encounter with the
thought to be dead Ian Fairchild. Jeffrey still had a hard
time believing that psychopath was on the loose again. But
Chandelor Knight himself had seen the man and that was good
enough for Jeffrey.
Being
the curious sort and one who couldn’t leave a mystery alone,
Jeffrey pulled up the internal security tapes from the weapons
area. Everything was business as usual until Faith appeared.
Boswell chatted with her pleasantly about the weather and
how he couldn’t believe she didn’t have a boyfriend.
Boswell
trusted Faith and left her alone in the weapons arsenal.
That was a big mistake. As soon as the Indian left, Faith
hacked her way into one of the holding bins and got her
hands on a very big gun.
Jeffrey
stopped the tape and stared at the expression on her face.
That was a girl on a mission – a very deadly mission. He
wondered what she needed a gun for. Then the answer came
flooding into his consciousness. Ian Fairchild. She was
going to kill him.
***
Kevin
Fairchild had been in a fowl mood ever since Michela dismissed
him in the hospital a few weeks ago. How could he have been
so stupid, he wondered. How could he have possibly believed
that she had suddenly fallen out of love with his brother
and into love with him. He must have truly lost his sanity
in the Bulgarian underground.
He
stalked through the halls of Legacy Headquarters. His mood
was not only apparent in his expression. It was also clear
by what he was wearing. A dirty, white t-shirt that had
been through the ringer and back. Smudges of dirt painted
a haphazard pattern across his chest. The jeans were just
as dirty and had gaping holes in the knees.
Boswell
passed Kevin in the hallway. He obviously was in a hurry
but he threw him a humorous stare and shouted, "Going to
a job interview?"
It
was that way with them. Kevin would wear the most unprofessional
garb he could find and Boswell would tease him about looking
for another job – like there was another job for a man with
weapons skills, espionage training and an entire closet
full of t-shirts.
He
didn’t even bother to wave as Boswell disappeared into a
secure area beyond a pair of white doors.
Gia
Doyle was the next to cross his path. She was wearing a
suit in a bright yellow. The skirt came to mid-thigh and
her matching pumps clicked down the hall in a set pattern.
It was the most vivid outfit he had ever seen her wear.
Usually she stayed in the family of dark red, brown, gray
and black. Although most becoming it was an unusual choice
for her. He guessed the ice around the queen’s heart must
be melting a bit.
"There
is just something wrong with this picture," Kevin said as
Gia passed him.
She
dramatically turned around, she did everything curtly and
dramatically, and gave him a large unnatural smile. When
she smiled she was actually sort of beautiful. In all his
years with the Legacy he’d never seen this side of her before.
The smile edged farther across her face.
"Do
you have a problem with contentment, Fairchild?" she asked,
with a sharp but warm tone to her voice.
"No,
but I figure if you’re smiling – one of us Fairchild’s is
soon to be frowning."
Kevin
regarded her with a contempt that bordered on maniacal.
What right did she have to be happy when he was wallowing
in misery?
"Why
don’t you stick to throwing jibes at the real object of
your depression. Is it my fault Michela came to her senses
before making the biggest mistake of her life?"
Kevin
considered throwing a punch at her but she must have read
his mind and stepped closer and whispered, "Don’t ruin this
beautiful day for the rest of us. Go home."
Kevin’s
eyes narrowed. He was in no mood to be verbally sparring
with a black belt like Gia. He’d gone down for the count
one too many times trying to keep up with her mind games.
Today, Gia found some sick pleasure in torturing him about
Michela. One day he vowed to return the favor.
"Revel
in it while you can because before you know it, you’ll be
the one eating humble pie, mine!"
***
"What
was that all about?" Philip Lancaster asked, indicating
he had over heard part of her conversation with Kevin. She
stepped into his office and closed the door.
"Ignore
him. He’s fallen off the wagon again. I’m surprised he could
even find his way to work this morning." Gia sat in one
of the burgundy chairs opposite Philip.
"That
bad?"
"Worse.
A few operatives saw him thrown out of three different bars
last night. He isn’t taking Michela’s rejection well."
"Maybe
we should assign him something out of the country. You know,
to take his mind off of it."
"That
just might be the only option," she said lighting up a cigarette.
She blew out a long stream of smoke and stared at Philip.
"He’s definitely a loose cannon."
Gia
left Philip’s office and walked down the long passageway
that lead to the surface. Some days she liked to walk the
streets just to connect herself with the human race again.
Pulling her collar up, she melted into the flow of bodies.
All
that consumed her mind was what had happened back in the
Bulgarian underground lab. She had made what she thought
was a deal with the devil to ensure Faith Fairchild’s safety.
She could have cared less about the other kid, but Faith
was Ethan’s sister and saving her meant going up a few notches
in his eyes. She was willing to risk what an act of kindness
would do to her reputation as a cold-blooded ice queen if
it meant getting Ethan back into her life.
She
was literally blown away when Ian revealed that he had Ethan’s
memories. No one knew about her rendezvous with Ethan except
the two of them. Everyone else plied the rumor mill with
"did they" or "didn’t they" questions but no one really
new for certain. That’s when the idea came into her mind
that if Ian had Ethan’s memories, he was sort of like Ethan
himself. Suddenly her elicit suggestion to Ian became a
desire she had to experience.
The
gamble had eventually paid off. Ian took her bait and Faith
left with Chandelor Knight and his pilot, Stone. Julian
Black seemed upset at the prospect of leaving his niece,
but he had no other choice. Letting her leave with his father
was better than leaving her with a self-confessed serial
rapist. Gia knew that having Faith leave with Mr. Knight
held even more advantages because Ethan would never forgive
her if she left Faith with either Ian or Black.
But
surprisingly, Gia found the upside to making a deal with
the devil. It was virtually impossible to tell Ian and Ethan
apart. So when she agreed to have sex with Ian, she pretended
it was Ethan she was talking to. She pretended it was Ethan
she was making love with. A few times during the heated
moments she almost yelled out Ethan’s name but she managed
to control herself. She didn’t want Ian knowing that she
was constantly thinking of his brother while making love
with him.
Even
though she knew she was beginning a relationship with Ian,
in her mind, she believed it to be truly with Ethan. Ian
was an agreeable substitute. She had only made love to Ian
one time but she hoped he was eager for a repeat performance.
The
dark murky streets made way to a drab apartment. The decorations
were modest at best. Gia wasn’t one to put her memories
out in the open like the rest of the world. The dim lights
barely lit up the room. One bulb was out and she hadn’t
had time to replace it. She made a mental note to get one
soon.
As
she walked into the next room, a blue cast from the television
flickered across Ian Fairchild’s face. He was staring at
the screen but he wasn’t watching. Absently he flipped betwen
channels as if it was a sort of Zen meditation. She guessed
he was making himself at home.
"Finding
everything okay?" she asked. This was the awkward point
in a relationship where one wrong word could have catastrophic
results.
Ian
didn’t tear his gaze away from the set.
"You’ve
ruined my surprise," he bit out harshly.
Gia
balked. "I could come back in again and act surprised. If
that’s what you want."
Ian
bound out of the chair and grabbed Gia by the throat. His
eyes were two dark menacing slits. She made a gurgling sound
as she tried to breathe.
"You
knew I had Ethan’s emotions as well as my own. And you used
that against me." Ian squeezed harder.
Gia’s
eyes bulged and she tried unsuccessfully to get out a strangled
"no".
He
read her lips and growled. "Yes! You knew, slut. You’ve
always known!"
Ian
released her throat and backhanded her to the face. She
flew across the room and crashed into the wall face first.
Blood trickled down her lips.
"No,"
she said, wiping the blood away. "I didn’t know. Franklin
tricked me."
"Liar!
You will not side track me again. I came back for Faith
and I intend to have her!"
Gia
reached for her gun which was holstered in the small of
her back. Ian noticed the slight movement and cracked his
hand against her nose, breaking it. She gasped at the sudden
rush of pain. Ian grabbed the gun away and leveled it at
her.
Neither
heard the intruder come in through the open door. Faith
Fairchild heard the commotion and cautiously approached
the scene. She raised the large gun she had stolen from
the Legacy arsenal and aimed at Ian. Her hands shook furiously.
Ian
continued to scream at Gia. "You are an obstacle I can no
longer tolerate. That means, unfortunately, you have to
die." He said the words with an emptiness in his voice.
"I hope there are no hard feelings about this."
A
shrill "NO!!" sounded from behind Ian. He turned sideways
making himself a smaller target while still holding his
gun on Gia. The gun jerked in Ian’s hand as it discharged.
Faith’s gun also fired.
Gia
could only stare at both of them. She saw the guns lurch.
She saw Ian grab his waist, but some how both bullets pummeled
into her torso. Her eyes blinked back the pain causing her
eyes to see a flash of random images. The images moved across
her field of vision like a strobe light. She saw Faith drop
the gun and heard it hit the floor. Then she screamed and
ran from the room.
Ian
glanced back at Gia, picked up the gun Faith had dropped
and placed Gia’s gun onto a nearby table. He was very calm
in his actions. He didn’t flinch when Gia’s body convulsed
and fell to the floor like a broken rag doll. Her eyes glazed
over and blood oozed from her wounds and seeped into the
white carpeting.
With
his work done, Ian donned a pair of designer Oakley sunglasses.
He had to look perfect when he caught up to Faith. She had
shot his enemy for him.
She
wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her.
He had to find her.
Ian
turned and looked at the dying woman. "I’d say, ‘see you
later,’ but I don’t plan on it."
As
he left he closed and locked the door. He didn’t want any
would be heros coming to Gia’s rescue.
He
reveled at the prospect of the chase. Faith wanted to play
hide and seek. He truly loved that game and he intended
on winning this time. This was going to be even better than
his previous encounter with the young Fairchild.
"Come
out, come out, wherever you are," he called, racing down
the hallway.
***
Three
hours later Kevin Fairchild was downing his fifth beer in
an hour. Usually when he was drunk he sang folk songs but
tonight he couldn’t think of any.
"One
more!" he told the barkeep.
The
bartender looked to a blonde woman at the end of the bar.
She nodded and held up one finger.
"This
is your last one, buddy," the bartender said.
"Aw!
Come on. I’m a paying customer."
"Sorry
kid. Boss says only one more."
Kevin
leaned on the bar and took a huge gulp of the pale liquid.
Two threatening looking figures entered the bar and Kevin
regarded them. Definitely two operatives. He could tell
that even when he was drunk. As they drew closer he could
see they were Pete and Juan. Two Legacy clean up men.
"Pete.
Juan. Sit down. Have a beer on me."
Juan
Martinez was a intimidating Hispanic man. He slapped Kevin’s
beer away from him and grabbed one of his arms. Pete latched
onto the other.
"Where
are we going?" Kevin said between hiccups."
Pete
Bain scowled like he thought Kevin should know what they
were there for. "Kevin Fairchild, you’re being charged with
the attempted murder of Gia
*****
Octavia
awoke with a strange feeling of exhilaration that morning.
Today was the day she would see the fruits of her labor.
First, she had to see how the implant was functioning, then
she would test it. Grabbing the remote control from her
purse, she glanced at it cautiously. This was not an item
to take lightly. This was an item that would make or break
her career. She had to handle it carefully. Octavia pulled
on her customary black slacks and turtleneck, then wrapped
a long velvet cape around her slim body. It was a dramatic
outfit, well fitted for a dramatic day ahead.
It
was early as she pushed the accelerator and sped down the
deserted London streets. Only the occasional late-night
reveler, stumbling home in a drug-induced haze, was witness
to the black Jaguar with the stunning blonde sitting inside.
Octavia fingered the remote with one hand as she used the
other to negotiate a corner. She had been up late programming
the remote with Ethan's first assignment. Soon she would
use it, but not until she knew the implant was functioning
correctly.
At
least that had been the plan.
She
screeched to a halt outside Ethan's flat only to see him,
looking grizzled and worn, slipping into the back of a cab.
Strange, Octavia thought. The procedure should have left
him unconscious longer than that. She pulled her seatbelt
back over her chest, hearing the snap as it fastened, and
swung her car around to follow the cab.
It
had been a merry chase up and down the empty London streets
but Octavia was an excellent driver and knew she could keep
him in range without being spotted. Ethan exited the cab
looking even more worn than before. Something was wrong,
she sensed. Seriously wrong.
As
as she snuck through the Legacy infirmary, she tried not
to call too much attention to herself. Rounding a corner,
Octavia saw Ethan just as he turned and ambled down another
hallway. Quickening her pace, she hurried to catch up with
him. There was something different about the way he was
moving. Ethan was inherently careful, always watchful for
an adversary who might leap out of a dark corner. He was
always on edge. Always ready to strike.
When
they had been lovers during his time in Russia, Octavia
often watched him as he slept fitfully and wondered what
demons so taunted him in his sleep? What enemy was attacking
him as he recovered from the previous day's mission? She
had learned after only a few nights with him that she had
to get out of his way when his dreams woke him in a panicked
sweat, and he reached out to find an imaginary enemy holding
a gun that wasn’t there.
The
way he was walking now, the determined stride, the total
disregard for his surroundings, was different. It could
be the familiarity of the Legacy halls, a place where Ethan
had practically grown up, but Octavia's well-trained senses
told her that something was wrong. Something else about
his movements wasn’t kosher. This was the main reason why
she hesitated to use the remote. This was why she followed
him, gliding silently behind like the specter of his conscience.
As
she rounded another corner she stopped, staring down the
long, empty hallway. Her eyes narrowed, scanning every detail.
Every hair on her body rose to attention at the tingling
of danger. The muffled curse wasn’t as noticeable as the
sound of the firearm as it engaged an opponent. She knew
Ethan
had such a weapon on his person and in his current state
of mind, if she was indeed correct, he could be capable
of anything.
No
longer concerned with stealth, she leapt forward, pushing
the door open farther.
Oh,
my God! Her mind cried. Now she knew there was definitely
something wrong. Ethan Fairchild was holding a gun, steady
and straight, to a woman's forehead. His hand over her mouth
like an assassin, ready to attack. But the thing that struck
Octavia was the woman’s eyes. So expressive, so needful
so terrified. Octavia knew she would never forget those
eyes. They were the eyes of her best friend and confidant,
Michela Forsythe. How had it come to this, she wondered
still standing stoic in the doorway gaping at the sight
of them. Michela was scared. That much she knew for certain.
Who wouldn’t be frightened in a situation such as this.
Here was your lover, the man you loved, holding a gun to
your head. Octavia couldn’t contemplate how her friend must
have felt. She’d never loved anyone enough to be terrified
of them.
Shaking
the shock out of her system, Octavia flipped back her cape
and felt for the gun she always wore by her side. Legs planted
shoulder length apart, ready for anything, she took a deep
breath. Before she could adequately formulate a plan, Ethan
turned towards her, and she felt her body turn to ice. The
look on his face was one she'd seen before, but only on
the face of the monkeys in her lab that had been the unfortunate
recipients of the AI implants. It was a cold, detached stare
with no trace of Ethan Fairchild in their dark depths. The
coldness in Ethan's eyes, the lack of humanity, sent a strange
wave of exhilaration and dismay through Octavia.
He'd
been activated.
The
only problem was that Octavia hadn't activated him. Someone
else had control over Ethan Fairchild!
Continued in Episode Six.
Read on!