This choice: The one who blinded you--Frank Durras • Go Back...Chapter #16The Target Is Templar by: Seuzz  "Is Frank Durras on the list," you ask.
Professor Hyde-White looks up, startled by your blunt question. "Frank Durras," he mutters, and drops his eyes. "Ah. That name is—"
"It's the name of the asshole who blinded me. Ten years ago."
"Yes, you were rather green," the professor says. "Do you carry a grudge?"
"Shouldn't I?"
He looks up. "I make no ethical judgments, Mr. Prescott. But as a practical matter—"
"Is he on your list?"
The professor hesitates. "No."
"Is he dead?"
His lips disappear. "This is a professional assignment, not—"
"Yes, I did enjoy it."
Puzzlement, even alarm, washes over the professor's face.
"Yes, I did enjoy playing Isaac Banks, the man who tricked me into killing Kips. You asked me that yesterday. Did I enjoy using his face—"
"I am gratified to hear that you did, but—"
"Then you would be gratified to see me enjoy it as I did the same thing to Frank Durras."
Hyde-White turns a chalky color. But you hold his eye, and he looks away first.
"Ah," he murmurs at length as he stares at a spot behind you. "We did have certain ideas for long-term advantages, ones that would not have— Still, I suppose—" He looks at you speculatively, as though taking your measure. "The main thing," he mutters, "is to see that the trick works. And if it does—" His words become inarticulate.
Finally, he shakes himself. "Yes, that would be acceptable, Mr. Prescott. We will discuss the particular contours of the assignment after I've had time to revise our plans."
"Did I throw you for a loop?"
"Not at all." The professor's smile is insincere. "A happy agent makes for a job happily concluded." He stands. "Well, let us meet again tomorrow, in my office, at ten o'clock."
You shake hands and part.
* * * * *
You call Cox, and the two of you put on your prettiest faces and go shopping in one of the tonier districts of London; after three days without a role, you are anxious for an impersonation, and playacting, rather than shopping, is the real point of the day out. The two of you improvise crises to discuss, and it climaxes with Sean's put upon housewife deciding to divorce her non-existent husband, to your own delight since you've secretly decided your character has been sleeping with that husband on the side. Sean actually becomes angry when you reveal that aspect of the imposture over drinks later when you've both changed into guys.
Then you take off all masks, and as Paige Knotts have a poker night with the rest of the team, smoking cigars, drinking, and cursing lustily. Plans are laid for a party at the Harp the next night. Everyone will show up in drag, claiming to be one of Kips' ex-girlfriends or one night stands, and the last one to get taken home by a bar patron will have to pay the tab for everyone else.
* * * * *
Professor Hyde-White is crisp and professional the next morning, and you do your best to reflect the same attitude. "Your target is currently traveling," he tells you, "and we do not know his destination. You must therefore assemble a team without knowing where or how you will make the replacement." Reference to a "team" surprises you. "What did you expect?" he replies. "This is merely a new method of infiltration, a job for Diana, and you will be in charge of it. Given the nature of the target, I suggest a larger team rather than a smaller one." You tell him you'll start work on it as soon as this meeting is over.
"You will take Dr. Plante with you," the professor continues. "He will be in charge of the equipment and the actual exchange. You will need at least two vehicles for your team, one of which must be a van or some similar sized vehicle, for the device."
"That thing in the test bay didn't look very mobile."
"We have a smaller unit," the professor says. "It has been tested in something like field conditions." You let the "something like" pass without challenge.
"After your insertion you will have two missions. The first is to expose yourself—carefully, and in a controlled way—to scrutiny by your target's colleagues. Do not put yourself in serious danger out of which you cannot retreat, but you must test to see whether they do or can detect the imposture. You must subject yourself to several such tests, until you have passed the most severe that you construct. You know our safe house in Chicago?" You nod. "If necessary, you can retreat there."
"How long do I have to conduct these stress tests?"
"As long as you require. After you have satisfied yourself, you will select a second target for infiltration and communicate that information back to us."
"Is that my discretion, or do you have a list?"
"Your discretion. It will be one of your teammates from Diana who performs it. You will, of course, have to help arrange for the second infiltration. Your confederate will bring plans for the stage of the operation after that."
"Shouldn't I have an idea of what that next stage will be? So I can figure who—?"
"Actually, the second stage will depend, at least in part, on who you choose for the second infiltration. We will be moving very slowly, Mr. Prescott. The risks and rewards of this operation are far too high. After reflection, we have decided to take what comes rather than striking for what we want."
You nod.
"There is only one last bit of business, then," says the professor, and he hands you a sheet of paper. "Please read and sign this release."
You frown as you take it. Everything at Diana is "off the books." Why do you suddenly need a contract? Then, as you read it— "Are you fucking kidding?"
"Not at all," says the professor coolly.
"I won't sign it!"
"Why not?"
"It's bullshit!" You slap the page. "It's an organ donation card, and you're not even giving me the option to get them back!"
"Your integument, Mr. Prescott, contains many valuable assets on which Fane has lavished a great deal of money."
"You mean my tats! But if I want my body back after this job is over—"
"And when will that be?"
You blink. "Every job has an end point."
"What does the end point of this assignment look like?"
You blink again. And again. "You mean I'm staying permanently, becoming Frank Durras permanently?"
"Given his gifts, why would you want to return to what you'd be leaving behind?"
You swallow.
"I suppose," says the professor, "that there might come a point where you want to move on from this target. But there will be other targets. Other Stellae, possibly." He leans forward. "Do you not see, Mr. Prescott? If this operation is successful, we will not relinquish what we have grasped. The Stellae Errantes, and the Sages, and the Akshardham, will become wholly owned subsidiaries of Fane. Our agents will become their agents, forevermore. We will not relinquish their minds and bodies, so why would you?" He folds his hands, and smiles.
And so you sign the release, assigning in perpetuity to Fane Holdings all rights and ownership to your "instantiating substances and personal characteristics of the first and second type" upon the "successful insertion" of your "personal characteristics of the third type" into Frank Durras.
You don't like the way the pen crackles as you scribble your signature on the sheet.
* * * * *
"How was he?" Muniz snickers the next morning. His voice is almost lost in the crackling wind that blows across the runway at Heathrow. You and Muniz and Cox and White are watching as a large crate is loaded into the hold of the private jet that will ferry you to America.
"Selfish as fuck," you snap back. "You've been in bed with him."
"Last night was supposed to be pleasure," Muniz guffaws.
"Well, it was no different than the graduation test." You squeak through your nose, mimicking the noises your boss, Julian Dey, makes when he's cuming.
"You're kidding," Cox exclaims. "I thought the graduation test was just grounds for a harassment suit. You're saying he's like that when he fucks for love?"
"Aye." The others all laugh.
You ignore them, since you're eight hundred euros richer for the humiliation. Dey, the clod, had got wind of Kips's "wake/party" at the Harp, and had shown up looking for the Diana team. Of course, he only found a crowd of strangers, including nine very loud and lusty university girls he was too dense to connect to his own employees. But you and your crew had pulled him over—he does look sharp in his ten-thousand dollar suits—and given him a good time, and you'd taken a hundred euros from each of the others when they'd dared you to go home with him.
Well, it's not like you'll be using this body any more after a couple of days.
"Did he at least stay for breakfast?" White asks.
"It was his flat."
"That doesn't answer my question," he chortles.
"Maybe, but I didn't. I had to get back to my own place to change because him and me were supposed to have a nine o'clock meeting."
"Oh, right. Did he ask what happened last night, since he didn't find us at the Harp?" Muniz asks.
"Yeah, and I told him we were the girls he did shots with. He didn't believe me until I told him you were the red-head he took home." The others laugh, and laugh louder when you add, "And he said, Damn, Muniz has really mastered his bed technique since flunking his graduation exam."  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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