Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love (34 page)

"Of course," Edgar replied, handing it to
her. "How much has Evans told you about what you're carrying?"

"Everything, sir. When we find this Campbell
woman, I'll be part of the team. We will get your man back, sir;
count on it. Personally, I hope the bitch puts up a fight; I'd love
to wipe the floor with her sorry ass," she said.

"You and me both, Laureth," Edgar said.

"Understood. I should get moving; the sooner
we get these samples typed, the better." Laureth paused, then
added, "Barrister Evans said I'd like you. He was right. You'd
think with all the enlightenment in society, no one would bat an
eye at a female in this line of work. Not so, though. He said you
wouldn't even notice; I appreciate that, sir."

"No worries, Laureth," Edgar responded. "I
learned long ago that you can't judge a book by its cover."

"Indeed," she said. "I may look like
someone's innocent sweetheart, but I know three martial arts, can
handle any weapon on the market and have thirty-seven kills under
my belt."

"Impressive, but not surprising," Edgar said.
"Sometimes Evans has 'special' projects and I know he only hires
the best."

"Thank you, sir. Do you need anything before
I head out?" she asked.

"No, thanks, Laureth, I'm good," he answered.
"Thank you for the help."

"You're welcome," she said. The smile that
accompanied her response almost made Edgar feel sorry for Campbell;
it reminded him of a jungle cat about to launch at a particularly
tasty bit of prey. He nodded and palmed the door open; Laureth
left, headed to who-knew-where to have the samples DNA-typed.

Alone again, Edgar put in his earbuddy,
changed into a pair of red onion-skin shorts and a white tank-top
and headed for the gym in Highland House's basement. Until they
knew more, there was nothing for him to do and he needed to burn
off some of the excess energy that was driving him mad.

Ten A.M

Evans ended the comm call with the lab he
used for more clandestine jobs. The doctor acknowledged receipt of
the DNA samples and promised results by two-thirty that afternoon.
That handled, Evans turned his attention on preparing to transfer
half of Edgar's trust to Campbell's account. Once the prep was
done, he could return to other, more pressing matters, such as the
search for Campbell's extortion victims.

He'd already selected the rescue team, but
couldn't proceed with any further plans until he had Campbell's
location. This wouldn't be an easy mission, based on Campbell's
history, but it wasn't Evans' first. The barrister didn't make a
habit of sharing much personal information with his clients, so
Edgar didn't know the man's history.

In his younger, pre-barrister days, Evans'
experience with the law had been from the opposing side. He'd
worked as a hired gun and not all of his clients were honest,
respectable people. He knew such a career couldn't last forever;
despite the medical advances of the time, age still slowed certain
reflexes and abilities, a potentially fatal flaw in a
mercenary.

So, he'd made a later-in-life career change
at forty-five and become a barrister. Still, he'd kept his hand in
the game and his skills as sharp as possible. He smiled,
remembering his early days. Another piece of information he didn't
share was his age; he let his clients assume he was sixty-ish, but
he was actually a spry eighty-one. Life extension therapy worked
wonders and, when one could afford the most expensive
top-of-the-line treatments, wonders became miracles.

His smile turned from one of pleasant
recollection to cold, hard death. He planned on leading this
mission personally; Campbell outsmarted him by missing her shuttle
and he like losing even less than she did. The challenge would be
convincing Edgar Aeternum to leave the rescue to the professionals.
Evans had a feeling the man would want to be included and he didn't
need an amateur along for the ride.

Eleven A.M

Maddi's modifications to the injector were
complete. All he needed now was an opportunity to use it;
unfortunately, he'd not seen Jarvis since his failed escape the
night before. He even tried yelling for her, but she was either
ignoring him or she was gone. He shuddered thinking about what
gruesome supply-run she might be on this time.

He tried to put that thought out of his mind.
It didn't help that Ridgely's corpse was still in the room and only
smelling worse. On top of which, he was stuck sitting in his own
filth, as Jarvis was unconcerned with his comfort and hadn't
provided a bedpan. The pain in his knees was becoming worse as the
Prozine was wearing off. He hoped beyond hope that his captor would
return not just so he had a chance to hit her with the injector,
but also because he wanted more painkillers.

The only thoughts that distracted him from
his current predicament were those of Edgar and even they were
bittersweet. He'd been so strident in his opinion of Edgar's
actions, it wouldn't surprise him if the man never wanted to see
him again. He held on to hope that Edgar wasn't through with him,
that they could continue to explore whatever had begun between them
before his kidnapping.

Finally, exhausted from the worsening pain,
Maddi drifted off to sleep. The image of snuggling in the
candlelight with Edgar, Tina's soulful voice in the background,
filled his mind.

Noon

Edgar sat at his desk eating his second
sandwich without really tasting it. His impromptu workout took the
better part of two hours and left him with shaking limbs. After a
long, hot shower, he settled in for lunch while scanning the news.
Nothing he read sank in, it was merely distraction.

Evans had given him an update just before
lunch; nothing much, except to say that the DNA test were underway
and a team had been chosen. Edgar hadn't mentioned to Evans that he
intended to be part of that team, but the barrister's almost wary
tone suggested that he expected the question and wasn't in favor of
the idea.

Edgar wasn't all that concerned with Evans'
opinion; the barrister was only doing his job. He had no way of
knowing that Edgar had experience in such matters. Why would he? To
Evans, Edgar was just another twenty-something rich client, after
all.

One P.M.

The woman sat at a small sidewalk table
watching the mid-day crowd. The half-eaten blueberry muffin had
proven disappointing, but the cafecito was perfect. The rich,
strong espresso, brewed with demerara sugar, was so good she was on
her third. Most people, the barista included, would've found that
amount to be a bit much, but Mariposa Campbell found that the extra
caffeine only sharpened her senses. It didn't hurt that it also
kept her going, given that she never slept at this point in the
game.

She picked up the demitasse cup and inhaled
deeply. The rich, sweet smell of the cafecito bringing back
childhood memories of her mother's kitchen. Those were good times,
right after little Mari, age eleven, had watched her father drown.
Of course, that came as a result of her catching him off guard and
pushing him off the boat. Mama didn't know that little Mari laughed
while Daddy drowned; she thought her little girl was traumatized,
but nothing could have been farther from the truth.

Mama survived until little Mari became
seventeen year-old Mariposa. Mama couldn't quite accept that her
little girl didn't want to follow in her footsteps and become a
nurse. She felt that it was a far more appropriate career for a
woman than tech officer in the military. Poor Mama; Mariposa almost
felt sorry for her, dying alone in an alley, victim of a rare
violent crime. Mama never knew that it was her little Mari who'd
done the throat-slitting that night.

The barista's return to her table shook her
from the old memories. She quickly downed the last swallow of
cafecito and ordered a fourth, prompting a surprised eyebrow raise
from the young man taking her order. After he left, she stretched,
enjoying the sunlight. She was pretty certain that this was her
last job. Aeternum would definitely cough up the ransom; there was
no way he'd let his pretty little boyfriend die. Even if he only
gave her half what she'd asked for, she'd still be rich beyond her
wildest dreams. Never mind that the boy was going to die anyway.
She never passed up the chance to kill; the rush was better than
the best designer drug.

She smiled at the barista as he set the
cafecito in front of her. Taking the cup in both hands, she inhaled
deeply, once again enjoying the aroma and reflecting upon how much
better it was than the smell in Ridgely's house.

Two-thirty-eight P.M.

"What do you have for me, Evans?" Edgar
asked.

"Perhaps the best news yet, sir," the
barrister replied. "We have conclusive proof that the member is not
Mr. Bristow's."

Edgar felt a huge weight lift from just
knowing that Maddi hadn't been mutilated. He dropped to the sofa as
relief washed through him. They weren't out of the woods yet, but
at least there was some good news. "Thank you, Evans," he finally
said. "Any luck on the search for her extortion vics?"

"Not yet, sir," Evans answered. "However, I
think it's a reasonable assumption that the DNA from Campbell's
gift will match her extortion vic. I'm running a discreet check on
the DNA with all known medical databases, in case there's a match;
that gives us another possible means of finding her."

"Good thinking, Evans," Edgar said. "How are
the preparations for transferring the ransom?"

"All we need is your instruction to do it,
sir. Once we have that, it'll happen in minutes," Evans answered.
"It's my duty to inform you again that it's unlikely she'll let you
have Mr. Bristow alive even if you pay her."

"Understood, Evans," Edgar replied. "We'll
have to get there first, but it pays to be prepared. Any luck
tracing that account number?"

"Agreed. As regards the account number, no
luck at all. I'm afraid Miss Campbell is every bit as good at
hiding her electronic trail as she says. Not that I'm giving up, of
course," the barrister added.

"Of course not," Edgar said. "I know better
than that and I'm grateful for your tenacity." Edgar paused and
decided now was the time to broach the subject of his being on the
rescue team. "One thing... When we find her, I'm going with the
team. I may already have lost Maddi as a…" he caught himself and
continued, "But I won't lose him his life; I want to be the one to
put that bitch in the ground!"

"While I can understand that motivation, sir,
Miss Campbell is a very dangerous individual. We will get Mr.
Bristow back sir, but I cannot allow you to take that risk. I won't
allow it," there was more steel in the barrister's voice than Edgar
had ever heard.

"Evans," Edgar said, steel in his own voice,
"I shouldn't have to remind you that I'm the client here."

"Indeed you are, sir," Evans said, not
backing down. "However, unless you choose to replace me, the matter
is not open for discussion. Before you make one of your smart-ass
comments about my not wanting to lose your money, that's only a
minor consideration."

Edgar was momentarily stunned by Evans'
outburst. He stammered, "What did you just...?"

Evans cut him off, "I said there's more than
money behind my intent to keep you safe. If you must know, I would
miss the rather hefty monthly deposits. However," he continued, "I
would miss looking after you even more. I assure you, I could
retire a thousand times over on my savings alone; but I don't,
because I truly care about my clients. You, in particular,
Edgar.

I don't often share personal information with
my clients; I prefer to be, simply, 'the barrister'. However, the
situation seems to call for it. You see me, by my design, as a man
who lives only to work and who enjoys exacting revenge on behalf of
my clients. What you don't see is that you are my family. I'm a
good barrister, Edgar, but I am a terrible human being; the work is
my life. Marriages have failed, children have disowned me, but my
clients are always there.

My confession, Edgar, is that you are more a
son to me than the two I actually fathered. There's some small
amount of envy, too. Your life is carefree and happy, present
moment excluded, in ways I've never known. It took me years to
realize it, but my happiness always came from my job, from helping
people who needed me. Even allowing my somewhat cruel side free
rein is mostly satisfying because it feels like I'm protecting my
family."

"I don't know what to say, Evans," Edgar
said. "Thank you seems so trite, but at the moment, I'm just lost.
First Maddi, then this," he paused, "I feel like my world is upside
down."

"No worries, sir," Evans was once again the
barrister. "We don't have to speak of it again. Just so we're clear
on the fact that you're not going on the rescue mission."

"Understood," Edgar said. "End call."

We'll see about that, Mr. Barrister.

Unable to contain his frustration, Edgar
dressed for a run. Campbell wasn't hunting him and a hard run
through the Park was exactly what he needed, despite the workout
earlier.

Nine-thirty-five P.M.

The sound of the door opening roused Maddi
from sleep. The first thing that hit him was the pain in his legs;
the Prozine had almost completely worn off. The next thing that hit
him was the injector of Prozine Jarvis tossed in his lap.

"You probably need some of this by now, I
imagine," she said, nose wrinkling in disgust. "The smell in here
is atrocious! I don't know what's worse - his dead ass," she
gestured at Ridgely, "or your live one. Did you shit yourself?"

Maddi, already dosing himself with
painkillers, looked up at her. Between the pain, the anger at her
not getting close enough for him to try the modified injector and
this insult, he lost his temper. "Don't like the smell? Well, you
fucking bitch, you should've thought about that before you
butchered him and blew out my fucking knees. Yes, I shit myself!
What the fuck else was I supposed to do? Tap dance to the
motherfucking bathroom! You are seriously deranged, you sick
bitch!"