Kinimaka’s voice lowered. “We’re as safe as can be, guys. But safe houses ain’t what they used to be.”
Alicia grunted. “Don’t we bloody well know it.”
Karin watched as Alicia and then Dahl walked off to make their respective phone calls. The Swede’s family — wife and two daughters — had recently arrived in DC. Karin had never seen Dahl worry before, but this was different. The man’s heart and soul were gently held within that family, as fragile as spring flowers. Nowhere was safe. Then there was Alicia, who spoke at regular intervals to her biker friends. Especially Laid Back Lex, who wanted to join her. But Alicia would have none of them in her life at the moment; it was enough that she kept in contact with them.
Kinimaka continued to talk with a little help from Hayden. Karin flicked her eyes over to Mai when the Japanese woman’s text message tone went off, and so did Drake. Was it Smyth? The hot-tempered soldier did like to keep in touch with his incarnation of perfection. Of course it could be Grace. Their young new addition was still being processed around the world and no doubt, like all teenagers, possessed the art of being able to text, eat and talk at the same time. Karin didn’t possess that art, nor did she want to.
Mai texted somebody back. Kinimaka updated them on Yorgi and Lauren Fox. Both were still ready and eager to help if they could. Sarah Moxley was another matter. It would be some time before the reporter was able to help anyone.
Alicia slammed her phone shut and then, on hearing Mai’s annoying text message alert once again, stomped over to the smaller woman and grabbed her phone.
“Really?” Mai asked with exasperation. “Are we school children now?”
Alicia wiggled her thumbs with surprising speed, reading aloud as she typed: “Sleeping with you would be like sleeping with one of the seven dwarves. And no, I’m not telling you which one. There. Send.”
“No!” Mai yelped and lunged but missed as Alicia danced away.
“Don’t worry. It’ll at least keep him quiet for a while trying to figure ‘em all out.”
Drake made a point of ignoring them both completely, studying his speakerphone with huge interest. Karin had noticed a little distance between Drake and Mai since they returned from Zoya’s place; nothing cumbersome, but Mai was definitely struggling with something.
One thing Karin knew for certain. It wasn’t Smyth.
She listened hard as plans were made. She feared for their futures but couldn’t see any part she could play. Perhaps it was for the best. For her the past had again caught up with the present, and the black hole it presented was already threatening to drag her down. Komodo was her anchor, sure, but who would secure him?
CHAPTER SIX
Tyler Webb surveyed the great kingdom a life of privilege afforded him. His grandfather and father had done all the work, netting billions. Once they’d died, Webb cast the everyday annoyances of running one of the world’s biggest corporations aside, deferring them to well-prepped lackeys, and began the real work of his life.
The Pythians.
A child’s dream perhaps, and indeed envisioned in childhood, Webb had always been fascinated by secret orders. By small shadowy houses purported to rule the world. When it became known in certain circles that the Shadow Elite were such a house, such a society, and had finally crumbled, Webb quickly put aside his incredulity on hearing that all his suspicions were true and considered how he might begin establishing his own.
A feat unknown in modern times. A new order with new rules, attempting to infiltrate and rule old, recognized circles. But it could be done. It could be done with money. Power. Influence. And, most important of all — with overwhelming, mortal fear.
His first act was to consider fellow members. Webb, an arms billionaire and leader in the field of nanotech, already knew several unscrupulous individuals. But he needed to stick to his parameters. Only those with unlimited power, influence and money could be invited to join. And for the Pythians, only the best, most lawless sinners in their field would be worthy.
So followed highly secret communiques to Miranda Le Brun, to Nicholas Bell of Sanstone Building, to General Bill Stone, to Clifford Bay-Dale and to Robert Norris — a man that actually sat on the board of SolDyn, the world’s biggest company. Webb hadn’t chosen these people at random. He’d spent weeks and months vetting them, gently exploring them, and then quietly testing them. At length he’d assessed them again and again, finally happy with his candidates and requesting an entirely covert, unidentified meeting. After this came more tests and finally this day — the great day of their first true meeting. The new Pythians would sit together for the first time, and the new order would commence.
Webb had spared no expense; from the highly capable security team, the military grade surveillance and computer mainframe protocols, to the twenty-square-mile blanket suppression of all signals and monitoring of all nearby traffic, whether it be vehicle, airplane, or had two or four legs. With nothing left to chance, Webb was able to relax and even feel a little excitement as his guests began to arrive.
Webb sat at the head of a rectangular table. He wanted no illusion as to who was the principle partner in this particular collaboration.
“We are the Pythians,” Webb said, once everyone was seated, sipping champagne and eating fish eggs and oysters. “Welcome.” It was the opening line he intended to use at every meeting. “First order of business — news. What do we have?”
General Stone spoke up first. “With Kovalenko’s demise and failure to test the nano-vests we’ve had to rethink. If those vests had gone off under DC and killed the President, we would have announced our shocking entrance to the world. As we stand we’re now trialing them in the UK through Coyote, a master asset. Results should be in soon.”
“Still,” Webb said. “It leaves us without a ‘grand entrance’ into the game, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” Stone said. “Of course. There’s always the ‘house on the hill’ scenario.”
All the Pythians were well acquainted with current events and new group suggestions through an impregnable e-mail system.
“A bit extreme, Captain.” Nicholas Bell, the builder and least liked of the six of them, saluted as he spoke. Bell was more than rough around the edges. He spoke as if he’d been dragged up, acted like a rough lout most of the time, and showed little respect for his fellow members. But Bell, with his worldwide construction network and endless resources, offered the group a tremendous amount of options. Webb believed the man would become more than invaluable.
But perhaps they could video-link to him in the future.
“Extreme,” Stone agreed stoically. “But effective.”
Webb held up a hand, a signal to table the subject for now. “Let’s move on. Please keep us informed of the UK events, General. Now. Pandora?”
“The start of our great quest,” Robert Norris, the SolDyn executive said. “Begins there. The plague pits are being sought by our forces across the world. Our one problem at the moment is a lack of manpower.”
Webb nodded. Norris was the ultimate sneak, the man that had dirt on everyone. It would pay dividends to keep a close eye on that one. “We are recruiting as fast as we can. And don’t forget, Pandora — though huge — is only our first foray. No need to rush.”
“We believe there are three sites,” Norris continued respectfully. “London is one. As I said we—”
“Yes, yes. We heard.” Clifford Bay-Dale, the stuck-up prick that controlled more than half the world’s energy, waved Norris’s concerns away with a flick of his well-manicured hand. Recently, energy bosses had quickly become known as the world’s new super villains, squeezing even more from the needy population despite humongous profits. Bay-Dale was by far the worst. In his mind, he deserved every penny; a privileged son-of-a-bitch that owned much and believed he most certainly should do. “Is there anything more interesting to speak of?”