Losing balance, p.13
Losing Balance, page 13
“Turns out that Jonathan married a widow with a rebellious teenager in tow. Although he dotes on her and broke cover to save her life; Brittany is not his biological daughter. She’s heading for London for a break before going back to post grad studies. Mark says she’s single, smart, pretty, loves to party and has an affection for her father that borders on the inappropriate.”
Rick’s mind raced, “And Reese looks more like Jonathan than any of the rest of us.”
“Yep, same red-brown hair. But blue eyes so he doesn’t match her step-dad too close and spook her.”
“So, you want Reese to seduce her?” asked Rick.
“Seduce her and take her on a lovely romantic off-grid vacation. Somewhere Daddy won’t find her.”
“Our own hostage to balance the board?”
Mitch may have been trying to sound offended, but he failed, “We would never stoop so low as to take hostages, Rick. Brittany deserves some fun after being so sick. Just like the twins are enjoying their vacation.”
Rick gave a slow smile, “Devious bastard. I love it. Reese will need fake passports prepped to get her out of Europe.”
“Jack’s on his way to London with them. Nate got us photos of Brittany and confirmed she’s had implants embedded so Jack will give Reese an EMP generator to fry them before he runs with her.”
“I’m not sure Reese could hurt her,” warned Rick.
Mitch huffed an indignant snort, “I wasn’t planning on cutting off her fingers, you idiot. The threat should be enough to stop Jonathan playing silly buggers with our own innocent bystanders. Besides, you know Reese; he’ll almost certainly break her heart.”
17
Teaching Jonathan a lesson
Reese stroked a bright coppery gold strand of hair away from Brittany’s forehead thinking if all he had to do to save the world was seduce a lovely lady, he was the luckiest man on the planet.
Brittany didn’t stir from a heavy sleep. It was nearing 5am, but they’d partied until late before he kept her awake for more intimate activities and then slipped her a mild sedative instead of a paracetamol before she crashed.
There was no other sign of life in the villa; everyone else was recovering from their own overindulgence. It had been easy for Reese to bump into Brittany at a nightclub; seduce her and engineer a trip to the Mediterranean by bringing along Brittany’s friends for her to feel safe and his friends to keep them entertained.
Mix pretty women and wealthy men with a potent combination of alcohol and drugs in a luxury villa in Cyprus and everyone was happy.
Brittany wasn’t going to tell her parents she was heading to Cyprus instead of staying in London but Reese didn’t want alarm bells to ring too soon if her implants showed her leaving the country. He’d convinced her that even though she was nearly thirty, it was polite to call her Mum and say she and her girlfriends wanted sun and sandy white beaches rather than gray old London.
Beth told her to be careful and act responsibly; but hadn’t been unduly concerned by a Mediterranean vacation for her adult daughter.
Reese manufactured a last-minute business emergency and he and his mates traveled two days later than Brittany. She and her friends were delighted to get a ‘surprise’ upgrade to first class and to be chauffeured to the villa to relax and work on their tans before their dates arrived.
Jack had been following Brittany and confirmed there was always a discreet bodyguard or two somewhere in Brittany’s vicinity, although she seemed to be unaware that she was under surveillance. One of Jonathan’s security teams trailed the girls to Cyprus and found accommodation nearby.
Beth would be less happy if Jonathan explained that Brittany appeared to be partying with a large group of strange men who’d shown up at the villa but there had been no intervention. Reese took care to obscure his resemblance to Jonathan if he went outside.
Brittany found it intriguing that he resembled her step-father; but after the first exclamations it hadn’t mattered. Now she was showing all the signs of a young woman falling in love that normally had him running for the door. It was time to take her off-grid.
Reese lifted the EMP device supplied by Jack. He had fried his own implants in Heathrow. Jonathan may have been told he’d left the country as part of a GenTech update, but there was no reason to connect him to Brittany’s week away with her girlfriends.
He’d put her phone in a Faraday bag to prevent it being destroyed by the electronic magnetic pulse that would destroy the complex circuitry in the GPS and communications implants embedded when she was being treated at GenTech.
Reese placed the device against her left temple and pressed the trigger. She didn’t flutter an eyelid. He triggered pulses under her right ear and along the right jawline. There was no reaction—which was normal as the process generated only a slight warming sensation almost imperceptible even if the recipient was conscious.
If it worked, Brittany’s cell phone would ring as soon as the GenTech monitoring team alerted Jonathan that his daughter’s implants had flatlined.
Reese tucked the EMP device in his case and yawned, grateful that he had only pretended to imbibe excessive quantities of alcohol. He could use a few more hours of sleep, but he’d crash on the boat that Jack had waiting to smuggle he and Brittany into Northern Africa to vanish off-grid.
He retrieved Brittany’s phone and headed out into the cool dawn; the salt tang was strong in the air as he leaned on the wrought iron balustrading of the tiny balcony and waited for Jonathan’s call.
He smiled to himself as the phone vibrated, even the buzz sounded upset. “Good morning, Jonathan,” he said. “Brittany’s still asleep, I’ll wake her for you in a moment.”
There was silence. Reese imagined Jonathan trying to work out who was speaking. All the clones from the Daniel Malvern Source had a similar voice tone and timbre and could speak in accent-free English.
“Which of you is this? And what have you done to my daughter?” Jonathan demanded, his fear and frustration obvious.
“It’s 5am Jonathan, after a long night of partying with her friends and play-time with me; she’s fast asleep in her bed. I’ll wake her up when we’ve done talking.”
“Who is this?” growled Jonathan.
“Reese.”
“If you’ve harmed one hair on her head, I’ll fucking kill you all!” Jonathan flared up in anger.
“Calm down, Jonathan. Brittany is unharmed and enjoying herself.” Reese kept his tone neutral.
“Why did her implants flat-line?” her step-father demanded.
“Because I’m taking her off-grid today,” said Reese with quiet satisfaction. “We’re going on a private little vacation until you end this madness.”
“You bastard, how dare you take my daughter hostage?”
Reese moved the phone away from his head, wincing at the volume of Jonathan’s voice. He responded with one word, “Pot.”
“What?” snapped Jonathan.
“Pot.”
“What the fuck are you saying?”
“The pot is calling the kettle black. You started this, Jonathan. It’s not the way Rick and Mitch would have played the game. You took the twins hostage; you brought this on yourself.”
“The girls are enjoying a vacation with my wife. They are safe.” Jonathan’s tone turned from fire to ice.
“So, because they don’t know they’re hostages and are not scared, it makes it ok?”
“Yes, they’re fine and as long as Nate and Asher play the game; they’ll stay that way.”
“Well,” drawled Reese with satisfaction, “I guess you’d best wish Brittany a happy vacation. Or you can scare her and destroy our budding romance by telling her she’s hostage to your good behavior.”
There was a long silence.
“You prick.”
“Jonathan, we can spend all morning exchanging pleasantries but it won’t help. We’ve neutralized your team on Cyprus. No matter how hard you bash that keyboard in front of you to scream at Mark’s men to race to the rescue, we will be far away before you get anyone here.”
“Fuck you; I want my baby girl safe.”
“Of course, you do. Asher wanted the twins safe too, but you took that away from her.”
“So, you’re proposing an exchange?” asked Jonathan, his voice lightening with relief.
Reese gazed at the brightening sky. “Nope. What would be the point in that, Jonathan? Once you had Britt under the tightest of wraps with Beth and your son; what would stop you snatching the twins back? Or kidnapping Jamie or Gilly?”
“You set this up Jonathan, you brought this on yourself. We don’t trust you.”
Reese could hear heavy breathing as Jonathan tried to control his anger and panic. “What do you want, Reese?” he snarled.
“What we’ve asked for. Give Nate the voting seat on the cabal he should always have had as Jacob’s proxy. Allow us to present our alternative plans to the cabal before you initiate an end-of-days scenario with an unstoppable virus.”
“And then you’ll give Brittany back?” he asked with little hope.
“Nope. Britt is surety you don’t make this personal. If you lay a finger on Jamie or Gilly, then Tim and Mitch get to order whatever retribution seems fitting. And seeing as Mitch is a fair-minded guy, he’d ask Mark if he wanted to exchange pieces of your daughter for his own family. You’d best leave the Donoghues out of your sick game as well.”
“So, I have to do what you say or an innocent girl suffers?” snarled Jonathan.
“Yep. Just like your deal with Nate and Asher. You started it; we’re ending it.” Reese’s tone became flat and his face implacable. He had no intention of harming Brittany and he doubted Jonathan would hurt the twins but both sides would tread more carefully now.
There was another long silence, “I want to speak to Brittany and make sure she’s OK.”
“No problem; I’ll wake her up. I’d suggest you encourage her to trust me rather than scare her witless by telling her she’s hostage to your good behavior. Given our unmistakable resemblance, why not be surprised that she’s dating a young cousin you lost touch with years ago?”
“I see no reason to make this easy for you,” Jonathan said with icy contempt.
“Makes no difference to me, Jonathan. If Britt has to be tied up and terrified, that will be your fault. Or she can have a romantic vacation with me and my friends. All of whom are as deadly as Mark Donoghue’s best so if you catch a trace of where we are; you’ll think twice about putting your baby girl in the middle of a firefight.”
Jonathan sighed as another plan seemed doomed to failure. “Got it all thought out, haven’t you?”
“We’ve covered the basics,” said Reese. “Anything else you want to ask before I wake her up?”
After a minute of silence, Jonathan said, “No, put her on.”
Reese opened the balcony door and slipped inside. Brittany’s snore was evidence of inflamed sinuses after too much wine. Reese grinned at the snuffle and snort; it was soft enough to still rate in the cute category.
He sat on the bed next to her and gripped her shoulder to give her a gentle shake, “Hey babe, wake up.”
She opened sleepy sea-green eyes and gave him a smile, yawning. “It’s far too early to be up. And why are you dressed? What happened to my favorite wake-up call?”
Reese chuckled and waved the phone under her nose, “Careful babe, your step-dad will either be embarrassed or outraged to hear that.”
She looked at the phone and blinked in surprise and wriggled to sit up, “What’s he doing calling so early?”
“I think he screwed up the time zone, sweetness. I answered it when it kept ringing in my ear and you were sleeping like a zombie.”
Brittany yawned once more as she took the phone. Reese stayed where he was and leaned forward to lick one enticing rosebud pink nipple as the bed covers fell to her waist.
She gasped and put a hand over the microphone, “Give me two minutes to get rid of my father and then,” she moaned as he transferred his lips to her other breast. “I’m all yours.”
Reese paused but didn’t move away, breathing on the hardening nipple, peaking from his attention in the cool dawn air.
“Hey Jon, what’s up? Is everything OK at home?”
Her nostrils flared as she sucked in a deep breath, easily distracted from talking to her step-father. “Of course, I’m fine. I’ve been having a fabulous time with the girls.”
Reese grinned imagining Jonathan’s likely sarcastic rejoinder.
She flushed, “Yes, and with Reese. He’s great, I’m sure you’d like him.”
There was a longer pause, Reese hoped Jonathan was telling the ‘he’s family and safe’ story. He resumed paying attention to Brittany’s pert rounded breasts and she arched her back, swallowing a throaty sigh.
“Really? Well that explains why he looks so much like a younger version of you. It was odd when we met,” she gave Reese a sultry smile, “But I can understand why Mum fell for you twenty years ago.”
Reese smiled; Jonathan was playing their game; at least for now. He tugged the bedcovers lower and his tongue traced a pattern down Brittany’s tanned stomach.
“Gotta go, Jon; give my love to Mum and little Mikey. And a hug each for the twins.” Brittany ended the call and tossed her phone across the room, reaching for Reese and murmuring, “That’s the way I wanna wake up, babe.”
18
Jonathan is very, very unhappy
“Ow!” Mark exclaimed, he dropped the tools he was holding and flung back his head in shock, cracking it so hard on the vertical steel scaffolding tube that his eyes rolled up and he slumped sideways.
Gilly was closest and she reflexively grabbed his arm as he started to topple over the lower railing to the side. His 6-foot 6-inch dead muscle weight had her fighting for her balance to stop them both crashing to the rocks thirty feet below them. The scaffolding planks beneath her boots shivered at the sliding mass.
Tim leaped with cat-like agility across the adjoining rail and grabbed her round the waist, leaning back to counterbalance Mark’s body with his own.
Gilly grunted as Tim’s grip forced the air from her lungs but held on tight until the danger had passed. Mitch, who was climbing the ladder, scrambled up the last few rungs and helped them move Mark to safety, propping him up against the timber planks of the house wall. “What the fuck happened?” he asked in shock. He looked anxiously at Gilly, “Are you OK?”
She nodded, rolling her shoulder, “Wrenched my arm, nothing that a day or two excused from painting won’t fix.” She tried to widen her eyes in an innocent stare, but giggled as Mitch and Tim gave her despairing looks.
“Is there anything she won’t try to get out of her share?” drawled Tim as he surveyed a dazed Mark. “What the hell happened to Mark?”
Gilly shrugged. “He was talking to me and grabbed at his right ear screaming. His head cracked back into the scaff-pipe and he started falling toward the edge.”
Mitch shook his head and pulled his phone from his pocket. As he found a number and hit dial, he gave them a warning glance, “I’m about to yell, please don’t fall off.”
As the phone was answered, he roared, “You’re a fuckwit, Jonathan.” Everyone flinched at the decibel level. He continued in a normal tone, “You could have killed your head of security. If you’ve never had someone open an implant call by yelling, then you have no idea the shock and agony it sends through your system. It’s fucking dangerous when you’re thirty foot above the ground.”
There was a long silence while Jonathan ranted. Mitch leaned against the wall grinning until Tim suggested, “Why don’t you let us all listen to the ravings of a beaten man?”
Mark was coming around but still appeared dazed. As Jonathan paused to draw breath Mitch said, “Jonathan, I’m putting you on speaker so you can apologize to Mark for all but killing him and to Gilly who hurt her arm saving his life and to Tim who nearly blew a gasket saving them both.”
Gilly’s lips twitched at the over exaggeration of their danger. It was true Mark would have fallen if she hadn’t grabbed him but if she could not save him, she would have let go rather than fall with him. She might risk herself, but she drew the line at suicide.
Jonathan appeared to be in no mood to apologize. “Which asshole had the bright idea to snatch my daughter?” he snarled.
“I believe the asshole that was the source of inspiration was you, Jonathan.” Mitch’s response was cold and unemotional, “You snatched the twins and refused to rule out the possibility of snatching Jamie.”
“The girls are having a fun vacation and enjoying themselves,” growled Jonathan.
“And Brittany is having the best sex of her life and loving every night in Reese’s bed,” said Mitch; the calm tone of his voice at odds with the gleam of amusement in his eyes. “At the moment the only pain she’s likely to suffer is a broken heart, Reese being historically reluctant to commit to one lady.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“To be honest Jonathan, I don’t care. You started this nasty game and we balanced the board. Brittany will be safe as long as the twins are happy and healthy and you don’t snatch any other innocent bystanders.”
He glanced down at Mark who was frowning as he pieced together what must have happened. “And that includes Mark’s family. Reese will have told you we’ve agreed it would be only fair to offer to trade pieces of Brittany for anyone else you snatched.”
Gilly fought the nausea of something so despicable but she kept a cool, disinterested expression on her face. Tim’s lips curled in a sardonic grin as he nodded at Mark as if confirming that the threat was genuine.
Mark was gingerly touching the back of his head and looking thoughtful but he still hadn’t spoken.
“Tell Donoghue to get his arse on the next plane or he won’t have a fucking job to come back to.”
Gilly spoke up as she dispassionately studied Mark. “Given he’s barely conscious and switching between white and green, I’m guessing Mark is seriously concussed, Jonathan. You might have to wait a few days unless you want a serious worker’s compensation claim.”
