Not that I don’t appreciate still having one.
I’m looking out at a world still trying to make sense of everything after witnessing not only the largest terrorist attack in history, but also the global war that followed. Far below me, I see people hustling around in every direction, desperately trying to carry on as if nothing’s happened. The aftermath of 4/17 hasn’t reached this far south of China, so people here in Malaysia, as well as in places such as Thailand and Singapore, are still living relatively normal lives.
But normal is now a thing of the past for me. Thanks to Cunningham’s master plan, the North Korean invasion was indirectly responsible for my adopted hometown being turned into a three-mile wide crater. The final stages involved him using the Cerberus satellite to take control of another country’s missile, and blow up part of his own country with it. His thinking being, the American people would turn to him in their hour of need, pledging undying support in return for him finally stepping in and saving the world. He was beyond deluded, but I still couldn’t stop him. He launched a tactical nuke and that was it — game over. Everything’s gone. My bar… my life…
Tori.
I had to watch it happen on a fucking laptop. But I’m still not allowing myself any time to dwell on it. To all intents and purposes, I ceased to exist about five minutes later, so the way I see it, any grief belongs to another life.
That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway. Right now, denial seems the sensible option. I’m still trying to wrap my head around this whole Order of Sabbah thing, so I don’t want to overload myself with too much shit. I’m on my own now… I have to look after number one. I’ve never been great at handling all the emotional baggage that comes with the life I lead — at least, it does if you allow it to. I know I’ll struggle, so I’m choosing to ignore it completely and focus solely on what lies ahead.
I assume after everything in Vietnam yesterday I’m in now — that I’m officially a member of The Order’s ranks. So I’m also assuming whoever’s going to make contact will be doing so to either give me a proper induction or give me a job.
I wish they would hurry up, though. I’m getting cabin fever in here.
I turn and walk back inside the room, which really is incredible. I remember thinking that place we had back in New Jersey was nice. But this… this is a goddamn palace! For a start, there’s a water feature in the middle of the room. Seriously! I shit you not — it’s a marble plinth about three feet high, with a discreet fountain trickling out of it in a nice pattern. The sound is relaxing, but I can’t wrap my head around why any hotel room would ever need one.
The bed is far too big for two people, never mind just me, but it gave me the most comfortable night’s sleep I’ve had in years. It’s against the left wall, surrounded by fitted closets and drawers made from dark, presumably expensive, wood.
The thick, cream-colored carpet underfoot makes you feel as if you’re walking on clouds or something. In the middle of the room, facing the opposite wall and the cinema-sized TV mounted on it, is a long, five-seater leather sofa. At either end, angled slightly inward, is a matching armchair. There’s a glass table in the middle, with a bowl of potpourri in its center.
And the TV… Wow! I watched a bit of news on it last night. It’s slightly curved, and the picture quality is so clear it’s like looking through a window. Josh would be in heaven in a place like this…
I sigh, frustrated at myself.
Damn it! I need to stop doing that. Josh is part of my old life. He believes I’m dead. Maybe it would help me to start doing the same. I mean, I’m—
There’s a knock on the door.
About time!
I walk across the room. I’m not bothered that I’m only wearing a towel. I’m not exactly having a business meeting, am I?
I grab the handle and lean forward to look through the—
Ooof! Shit!
The door just burst open and hit me in the face!
A woman strides casually past me and into the room. She stops next to the sofa and turns to face me. I push the door closed and rub my forehead where the door hit me as I turn and walk over to her. “Come in, why don’t you? Christ… you nearly took my damn—”
I stop talking as I look up at her. She’s beautiful. I mean, she’s… just… staggering. I don’t know how else to say it. No words I can think of right now would do her justice.
She’s shorter than me, but probably slightly above average height for a woman. Maybe five-seven or five-eight. She’s slim and toned, and I can tell from the way she’s standing that she can take care of herself — there’s a relaxed confidence in her body language. Her muscles are constantly tensing and twitching, her body weight perpetually shifting, ready to move at a moment’s notice.
Her hips are slightly wider than her torso, and her thighs angle inward slightly. She’s wearing fitted jeans tucked inside black knee-high suede boots, with a thin white top hanging loose on her slight frame. She has jet-black hair that stops at her shoulders and an Oriental complexion, accentuated by large, hypnotic brown eyes. She’s staring at me, looking a little bemused with the faintest of smiles on her lips, as if she knows I’m checking her out.
Whoa…
I look down at my towel, then back at her. I smile, a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting—”
She holds a hand up. The smile fades. “Save it. I don’t care what you’re wearing. Or not wearing, in your case.”
Her English is flawless. Her attitude needs a bit of work though.
I shrug. “Okay then… So, who are you? Do you work for The Order?”
She nods. “I do, yes.”
“And your name is…?”
“Unimportant.”
“Okay. Well… Miss Unimportant, I’m Adrian, and—”
“I know who you are.”
I frown. “You were a cheerleader in High School, weren’t you? I can tell. It’s your warm, friendly demeanor that gives it away…”
She raises an eyebrow. “Do you think you’re funny?”
“Most days, yeah.”
“You’re not.”
“Well, you can’t please everyone… So why are you here, Miss Unimportant?”
She sighs. “My name is Lily.”
I smile.
She frowns. “What?”
“Nothing… It’s just that’s a really nice, sweet-sounding, delicate name… and you’re… y’know…”
“What?”
“…None of those things. Or, if you are, then you need to work on your first impression…”
“Please don’t assume you know me, smartass.”
“I know enough, Lily.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Really? Go on then — what do you know?”
I look her up and down for a moment. “Okay… you’re in your late twenties… definitely single… left-handed… very well trained — I’m gonna go with Muay Thai… no formal military experience, but you’ve seen your fair share of fighting. I’m gonna say… only child. Oh, and orphaned.”
I’m very aware of the cold silence filling the room. The tension is palpable and awkward. I should have added poker player to my list, as her face isn’t giving anything away whatsoever… I reckon I hit the mark with most things.
She takes a small step forward and lets out a short sigh. “That was… impressive.”
“Was I right? I wasn’t sure about you being an only child — I was playing the odds there, but—”
She shakes her head. “No. You were wrong about practically everything.”
“Oh…”
“Asshole. Have you finished? We have a lot to cover.”