Russell Brooks - Pandora's Succession

“Oh Fox, it’s good to see you can still keep your sense of humor, or sarcasm, or whatever you want to call it,” said Tabitha. “No, if I wanted you thrown in jail or executed, I would’ve already given the order. But I need you alive, not just because I admire your presence, but because there’s something I need from you. And within the next few minutes I’m going to have it.”

Shinigawa Empress Hotel, Shinigawa Ward, Tokyo, 10:25PM

The drive was long, and Parris wasn’t a fan of vans, especially the eight-year-old one that Levickis drove. Simply put, she did not feel safe in it whatsoever. Its base was too narrow for its height, like some of the vans she saw on the roads in Barbados that looked like they would flip the moment they flew around a curve. Levickis’s van was similar, and she sat firmly into her seat with one hand gripping the hand bar above her passenger window and the other on the seat next to the gear. On top of that, she wanted to reach over to the volume dial and turn down the loud music he played, too.

Levickis glanced over at Parris. “You’re safe, you know. That’s what the seatbelt’s for.”

“I feel much safer hanging on.” Parris’s grip tightened just as Levickis took a curve without slowing down. “Will you turn down some of that noise?”

Levickis quickly glanced at her. “This noise is what’s keeping me awake. You wouldn’t want me to fall asleep and crash, would you?”

“Trust me, it’s not the music that’ll make you crash this van.” Parris held her breath as he overtook a motorcyclist. “For now, I’m not in the mood for any song that keeps repeating the verse, ‘It’s the end of the world as we know it’.”

Levickis sighed and turned down the volume. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something. What’s your problem with Fox?”

“Problem? What are you talking about?”

“Come on. I asked you before what you knew about him. You didn’t have anything nice to say.”

“We had a falling out in the past, and that’s all I’m going to say.” She saw him glance at her out of the corner of her eye, but she wouldn’t look at him. Now he wants to bring up Fox. Levickis remained silent for the rest of the ride.

When they made it into the Shinigawa ward, the breathtaking view of the Tokyo Harbor with its high-class restaurants and hotels instantly made Parris forget about the ride. Levickis found a parking space a block away from the Shinigawa Empress Hotel. Parris was more than anxious to get out of the van and was ahead of Levickis as they crossed the street.

The hotel’s lobby bustled with tourists-even at that hour-most of whom she figured were meeting in groups to spend a night on the town. Just as well that nobody knew what was going down. She shuddered to think of the mass carnage that could tear the city apart.

They both rode the elevator to the third floor and quickly found their way to suite 305, where Levickis knocked on the door.

There was the sound of fast approaching, heavy footsteps towards the door before it was opened. Walsh’s haggard but robust figure, stood before them. “Come on in.”

“Good evening,” said Parris as she walked in.

Levickis merely nodded his head.

As they passed him, Walsh pointed to Dobbs who was seated at the coffee table in front of his laptop. “That’s Bill Dobbs. He’s helping us with tech.”

She looked at Walsh. His hair was a mess, and his tie undone. “What happened to you? Bad flight?”

“More or less.” Walsh moved the second chair away from the coffee table. “The flight was over-booked and I ended up riding in coach beside some woman who must’ve been going through a damn mid-life crisis. She wouldn’t stop talking to me and complaining to the stewardess. God knows how many hours of sleep I need to catch up on because of her.”

“That’s why I never got married,” said Levickis.

Walsh frowned at Levickis’s comment. “Our relief came when we got word that our connecting flight was changed, and we were redirected to Okinawa. It was longer, but Downing must have had a good reason.”

Walsh gestured to the two single beds. Parris first told them everything that she had learned from Fox about her experiments, the cult and Hashimoto’s connection. She then told them about Fox’s contact at the airport.

Walsh crossed his arms. “I’d personally like to know how Ares tracked Fox to this location so quickly.”

Levickis answered, “My guess is that they must have obtained airport security footage, the same way Dobbs was able to trace Valerik back to Minsk, where he boarded a plane to come here to Tokyo. And how they knew when and where to find him, they must’ve planted some kind of tracking device on him.”

Dobbs looked up from his laptop. “A tracking device? I know Fox, and trust me no one can simply plant a tracking device on him.”

“Unless, it’s done underhandedly. Like from someone he knows,” said Levickis.

Dobbs looked back down at his laptop. “Then whoever it is, they’d have to be a real pro.”

Parris turned to Dobbs. “Maybe it wasn’t planted on him. Maybe he was unknowingly tagged.”

Walsh looked at Parris. “What do you mean?”

“Back in the 1970s and 1980s, it was discovered that East German agents, the Stasi, had used radioactive sprays to track dissidents,” Parris answered. “Stasi agents sprayed their clothes or belongings with Scandium-46, which emits highly dangerous gamma radiation but harmless beta radiation. The agents would then carry miniature radiation detectors in places such as their armpits, which would vibrate if the unsuspecting victim ever came near.”

“If you’re saying that Fox was sprayed with such a dangerous isotope, wouldn’t he be dead?” asked Walsh.

“I didn’t say that he was sprayed. Secondly, not all radioactive isotopes are harmful. For instance, doctors use Iodine-131 radioactive dye to help them in treating thyroid cancer. If Fox got close enough to someone, he could’ve been tagged with a harmless radioactive isotope. A kiss, or a handshake, maybe something that he drank, could easily allow it to be absorbed into his bloodstream.”

“Exactly how would he be monitored?” asked Walsh.

“By satellite,” said Levickis and Dobbs in unison. Levickis walked over to Dobbs. “One specially equipped to detect radioactive isotopes. That’s assuming that the Japanese have perfected a satellite that could zero in on their target without having interference from other radioactive sources in the environment.”

Dobbs looked up at Levickis. “I wouldn’t be surprised. The OST’s been trying to contract with American companies to develop one for years.”

Walsh sighed. “Well, ain’t that a goddamn mess! With Fox running off like that, God knows how many people he came in contact with. And what’s even more frustrating, is that we didn’t think of tagging him in the first place so that we’d know where to find him, or if he’s even still alive.”

Dobbs continued to type away at his laptop without glancing at the others. “My guess is that he still is. I’ve worked with him before. Trust me, he’s a survivor.”

“And I hope he’s vexing his captors the same way he’s done to all of us,” quipped Parris.

“But wait a second.” Walsh pointed towards Parris, his mouth slightly hung open for a few seconds. “If Fox was tagged and he’s being monitored by satellite, whoever’s been watching him would’ve seen everyone he’s come in contact with. That means they’d be watching you too.”

Parris glanced once at everyone in the room before she stood up and began to pace around. “Oh Lord. What do we do now?”

Levickis raised his hand to stop her. “Calm down.”