Russell Brooks - Pandora's Succession

She hit the seventh-floor button on the panel. That’s a sign that I’m thinking too much.

When the elevator stopped, she gathered her belongings and walked to her apartment. All she thought of doing was preparing something light to eat and then heading straight to bed.

Parris reached over to the wall and flicked the light switch. As she removed a can of corn, some green peas, and then a bag of noodles from her grocery bag, she heard the door buzzer. At this hour? It must be Levickis.

She walked to the front door, where a ten-inch monitor was mounted on the wall. It showed a live camera shot of the entrance to her building. Levickis stared back at her, looking exhausted. Parris pressed a second button beside the monitor to buzz him in. She then unlocked the front door and headed back to the kitchen.

By the time Levickis arrived, Parris had downed two glasses of cranberry juice, finishing off the two-liter bottle. He walked into the kitchen as she took out another bottle of cranberry juice from the second bag and put it into the refrigerator. “Juice?”

Levickis unzipped his jacket. “No thanks.” From inside his jacket, he took out his PDA and then threw the jacket over the back of a chair.

Parris looked at him and noticed how he fumbled with his PDA. “You look worried. What’s wrong?”

“Everything. Something’s happened to Fox.”

“Really? And he was concerned about me not being able to take care of myself.”

“I lost contact with him after his meeting.”

“Who’d he meet with? Anyone in the agency files?”

Levickis tapped the screen with the miniature plastic wand. “I ran a face recognition search on his contact. Nothing’s come up yet. My guess is that he’s Boeisho.”

“Did you find anything else?”

“It looks like he’s been kidnapped. He was in a scuffle and his camera-my camera — got broken when he was thrown from a moving vehicle.”

Parris tried to get a look at his PDA. “My God, is he all right?”

“It appeared that he got up and walked a bit before the camera stopped transmitting. So he’s fine. You, on the other hand, had the decency to fall headfirst so as not to damage yours when Dewan went berserk on you.”

“I’m going to ignore that last comment.”

“Ah, here we are,” said Levickis, as he brought up the video caption at the point where Fox was accosted at his car. He then handed the PDA to Parris.

“Let me guess, you ran a face recognition search on these men and it turned up nothing.”

“Not quite. Fox managed to get three of them on camera. Two of them were once in the Russian Air Force, up to about a year ago. Both of them were dishonorably discharged. Now they’re known members of Ares.”

“Yes, I see.” Parris walked as she read the PDA. “Both of them were involved in drug trafficking to the Russian Mafia while in service. They were arrested and charged, but managed to escape custody, due to what may have been an inside job.”

“What do you know about Fox?”

“He’s a jerk, but I’m not going to get into any of that right now.”

“Sounds like your type of guy.”

“You wish.”

A ringing came from her belt clip. Parris removed her cell phone and flipped it open. “Hello.”

“May I speak to Helen Pierce?” It was her contact and Helen Pierce was the signal.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong person, maybe you want to speak to Sheldon Spears.”

“Ain’t he still at work?”

“He is. I’m his sister.”

“So you’ve been briefed on our arrival?” said Walsh who was careful not to use her name and keep the conversation curt. Although they both used secure lines designed by the tech guys at the Office of Science and Technology, or OST, in Langley, Virginia, the precaution was necessary. Their cell phones, as well as their PDAs and any other communication devices, had to be changed every few months, since less friendly nations had their own tech guys who did nothing else all day long but try to break through the secure lines of other nations-especially those in the United States.

Parris handed the PDA back to Levickis. “Yes, we have.”

“Is the computer nerd with you?”

Parris glanced briefly at Levickis. “He is.”

“Good. Any word from Sheldon? The bastard ditched us.” Parris understood Sheldon was code for Fox.

“That’s what both of us are trying to find out. We’ve just learned that he’s run into some bad company.”

“Oh, Christ. This ain’t good.” Walsh then spoke to someone else in the background. “Listen, both of you need to get over here ASAP. We’re staying at a different hotel than before. I’ll have my guy send the computer nerd our location to his PDA.”

“I’ll let him know.” She hung up.

“What was that all about?” asked Levickis.

“That was Walsh. He’s sending us a meeting location.”

Less than five seconds later a tune came from the PDA and Levickis tapped the wand to the envelope icon on the screen. “They’re at the Shinigawa Empress Hotel, room 305.”

“I’ll go change.” Parris left the kitchen and walked to her bedroom. First, she had learned that her experiments were part of a recruitment ploy, as of this moment, Ares had their agents in town, and now Fox was missing. Parris knew that she was in for a long night.

Shibuya Ward, 10:20 PM

The black stretch-limousine cruised between forty and fifty kilometers per hour through the streets of the Shibuya Ward, a major fashion district of Japan and also a major nightlife area that teemed with young people and countless garishly-lit neon lights and billboards.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me. After all, we rescued you,” said Tanaka. His bodyguards flanked Fox while he sat opposite them.

“Yes, you did. Only now I’ve been kidnapped in luxury and without any sake to serve me this time. It’s an interesting scheme Hashimoto has going on. You keep the Boeisho in check so that he can carry out his plans. If only you knew what you were doing.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You must admit that it’s hard to believe an important person within the Boeisho could be swayed by the teachings of a cult.”

Tanaka laughed. “I hope you weren’t too taken in by what your contact told you. His understanding of things is, how should we say, limited. He most likely blew things out of proportion.” Tanaka sighed. “May he rest in peace.”

Fox was not surprised. He feared the worst once he saw the October Man panic. He said nothing but just stared angrily at Tanaka.

“Poor soul. It was the only way to put an end to his state of confusion. We can’t allow people like him to spread lies about us. It was for his own good, and, you could say, for ours as well.”

“Ours? I don’t see anything good about your so-called beliefs, so I guess you’ll have to kill me, too.”

Tanaka laughed again. This time he sighed louder. “It’s a real shame that you don’t understand the way things should be, at least for now. It was the same for everyone at first, including me. But that’ll change, and trust me, you won’t regret it.”

“Is that why you’re keeping me alive? So that I learn the teachings of Hashimoto? My God, he’s really warped your mind. Sooner or later the Boeisho will discover you’re a mole, responsible for the deaths of your own men, which will leave you either court-marshaled or executed without trial. But I’m guessing that you’ve accepted that as part of Hashimoto’s plan.”

“It’s the final outcome that matters. If I should die before then, I will have gone down as a martyr.”

Fox didn’t say anything else, but noticed that they were slowing down, and he looked out the window to see where they were. Outside was the glitzy entrance to a nightclub. Cylinder was written, in both Japanese and English, in large, green neon lights above the entrance. The line-up was the same as with most nightclubs, long enough to go around the block with probably a sixty-to ninety-minute wait.