She had a similar catalog from her business career. A collection of newspaper articles and magazine features. Her Top 30 Under 30 Women in Business Award, and a few others. The Eos company photo had been the real prize, although now it made her cry. Both due to the casualty count, and because it was now considered contraband. Like everything else, it would tie her new identity to her birth identity.
The Immortals were supposed to burn all their memorabilia once their replacement process was complete. She hadn’t yet phased out her birth identity, so technically it wouldn’t be a violation until Lisa Perera had a death certificate, but she knew she’d never destroy her mementoes. She doubted that any of her peers actually did. She put hers in a small suitcase.
Her only other suitcase was topped with toiletries, two swimsuits, and a change of clothes. Underneath, she filled it with $100 bills. A million dollars’ worth. With that cash, she could live for years off the grid.
The trip to the airport went by in a blur, and before she knew it, Lisa was looking back toward the private aviation terminal of John Wayne Airport from the stairs to her G650. She wondered when she’d set foot on American soil again.
“Just you today, Ms. Perera?” the familiar flight attendant asked.
“Just me, Brady. I’m taking a break from everything this time, my staff included.” Lisa had not told anyone her plans. Safer that way. Aria knew her general intention, but that was it. Pierce would get a letter explaining her decision by snail mail. She felt she owed him that, given their mutual plans. One of them would let David know. He’d understand. The good doctor was a go-with-the-flow kind of guy.
She settled into her usual seat, then got an idea. “Brady, I’d like a glass of Champagne. The 2004 Krug please.”
“Coming right up.”
She resolved then and there to make the coming months a celebration. Treat this time like an adventure rather than a retreat. If she thought about it, the only thing she was walking away from was familiarity. That wasn’t such a big deal, if you had the right frame of mind. If you concentrated on what you were gaining, rather than what you were losing. Immigrants did it all the time.
Captain Carter came over the intercom. She couldn’t recall if Carter was his first name or last, but she liked him. His voice and his look. He reminded her of a movie star. “It’s fifteen hours to Sydney. It’ll be early morning when we arrive, so you’ll want to get as much sleep as you can.”
Lisa knew that takeoffs out of John Wayne were steep due to noise abatement ordinances, so she drained her Champagne as Carter came back on to announce that they’d reached the head of the queue.
Once they cleared the coastline and began a more traditional climb, she asked Brady for another glass, then hit the intercom. “Captain, I’ve had a change of plans. I need to head for Bali instead of Sydney.”
“Bali, Indonesia?”
“That’s the one.”
No quips or sighs or complaints about procedure. Captain Carter snapped straight into make-it-happen mode. “We’ll need to refuel. Probably Tokyo or Taipei. I’ll check our options and get back to you.”
“No need. Do whatever makes sense and update the display. I’m going to take your advice regarding sleep.” From her chair, she could see a monitor with the flight map, time and distance covered and remaining, speed and altitude.
“Very well. Good night, Ms. Perera.”
Lisa had never been to Bali, so nobody would think to look for her there. Of course she hadn’t been lots of places. She’d selected the Indonesian island because it was populated with millions of gentle people and on the other side of the planet. Easy to get lost on it or one of the thousands of surrounding islands.
She closed her eyes and pictured her toes dangling off the end of a long dock into water so clear and blue you felt like you were scuba diving even from the surface. She’d find one of those hotels where the suites were individual huts out over the water. She’d swim herself into the best shape of her life and sunbathe until her skin was such a deep bronze that even Aria wouldn’t recognize her without a second, studied glance.
Lisa was almost asleep when a stinging sensation made her wince. “Ouch!”
Brady was instantly at her side. “Can I help you, Ms. Perera?”
Her hand shot to her backside, the source of the pain. “Something bit me!”
As Brady turned to inspect her chair, Lisa felt her lungs turn to lead. She couldn’t move them. She wanted to scream but could not produce noise. In desperation she jumped up and flung her chest against the back of a neighboring chair, forcing her lungs to expel carbon dioxide, then suck in fresh breath as they recoiled.
It helped.
She began repeating the procedure, pressing herself against the back of the chair, working her own lungs like a bellows.
It wasn’t enough.
The exertion used up more oxygen than she was taking in. Her head began spinning, and she soon lost the strength to continue.
She was aware of Brady screaming as she slid to the floor, and the leaden feeling moving beyond her chest. She felt him start mouth-to-mouth. But it wasn’t enough. She pictured her toes in that warm turquoise water. Dangling. Dangling.
Only three Immortals left.
61
Talk is Cheap
THEY GRILLED TORY on everything he knew about his clients. They walked through his computer files, bank accounts, and bookmarks. They had him call Felix a dozen times, without success. Finally, Chase opened the call list on Tory’s generic phone. “Who is speed dial 3?”
“That’s Aria.”
“And 5?”
“David.”
Coincidentally, they were the ones that looked like Skylar and Chase’s roommate. Or perhaps not coincidentally, Tory realized, given how his captors had gotten involved.
“Will Aria and David know if Felix has been killed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Call and find out. Explain that he’s not answering. Then try to set up a meeting. Same con you were planning to use on Felix. Which of the two is more gullible?”
“They’re both razor sharp,” Tory said with sincerity. “But my relationship with him isn’t so hot, thanks to you. Better to call her.”
“Watch me for cues,” Chase admonished, setting the phone before Tory.
Aria answered on the first ring. “Hello.”
“Aria, it’s Tory. I’ve been trying to reach Felix—”
“Felix is dead.” Her voice was strained and clipped.
“Oh, no. Oh, dear. I was afraid of that. I think I know who did it.”
“Who?” Her voice rang of desperation tinged with hope.
“Not over the phone. Trust me, there’s a reason. We should meet.”
Aria didn’t reply.
“Aria, are you there?”
“I’m not meeting with you or anyone else. Just tell me.”
Tory gave Chase a see what I mean look.
Chase shook his head.
“Not over the phone.”
“Email me then,” Aria suggested.
Chase nodded emphatically.
“That might be acceptable. What’s your address?”
“Use SevenStar@HughesNet.com.”
Chase held out a hand and waggled it side-to-side.
“All right. If I can figure out a safe way to do that, I will. Otherwise, we’ll have to get together. Your terms and the location of your choosing.”
When she didn’t reply, Chase made a hang-up motion.
“Meanwhile, stay safe and let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Chase reached over and disconnected the call.
Tory looked at him with his one working eye. “You’re planning to run an email trace.”
“You try that with them before?”
“I never had an email before,” Tory said, feeling inadequate for the first time in years. If only he hadn’t been so busy. “Felix was my single point of contact, and he worked exclusively through a Darknet messaging system. The trace might work.”