Paradise Hacked (First Circle Club Book 2) (7 page)

"That's comforting."

"You'd better get going," Mei said.

* * *

Virgil put away his phone. "Sara is coming here. We have more business after we're done with Cat Lady."

Lisa and Alfred nodded.

Virgil looked at Cat Lady and wondered what to do with her. She had the kind of beauty that could warp a man's judgement. Expertly applied makeup enhanced her fine features. A snug sweater and jeans showed off a body that matched her face in desirability.

He couldn't trust her in the slightest. Professional, successful criminals rarely changed their spots. She would always be looking for an edge she could exploit for personal advantage.

"I don't need your help," Virgil said. "My existing team is more than sufficient. Thanks anyway."

Cat's expression softened. She appeared disappointed, sad, and vulnerable, but the change was subtle rather than blatant.

He chuckled. "There is no denying you have talent. You could pull tears from a stone with that look."

"Yes," Alfred said. "Were you trained as an actress? Your command of body language is impeccable."

Cat sniffed. "Crime pays better than acting. I can tell when I'm not wanted. I'll just go."

She stalked off angrily, brushing past Virgil as she passed.

He let her take two steps before he ran over and grabbed her shoulder. He squeezed hard enough to hurt.

She squirmed. "What now?"

"My wallet," Virgil said.

Cat reluctantly reached into her purse and took out his brown leather wallet.

She gave it to him. "Satisfied?"

"Hold on." He checked the wallet. "I'm missing a credit card."

She abandoned her lost little girl look and just had an expression of irritation instead. She was holding his credit card in her palm, and she gave it to him.

"Now you may go," Virgil said.

Cat walked away. He watched the lovely sway of her hips until she went around a corner and vanished from sight.

"Why is Sara coming?" Lisa said.

Virgil turned around to look at her. "Two agents from the O.E.A.P. are coming here to talk to us."

"That should be interesting."

"Very. Just hang out in the corner again. I like you watching my back."

"No problem," Lisa said.

* * *

Virgil was practicing his breathing. He didn't need to breathe, of course. Nor did he need to eat, drink, or sleep. The eternal hellfire trapped within his demonic flesh gave him all the sustenance he needed. His lungs were merely empty bags which allowed him to talk, and he didn't even have a stomach.

He was breathing because Cat had noticed he didn't. It was important to maintain the appearance of normalcy, and if she could notice, others might. He needed to get in the habit of inhaling and exhaling regularly.

"You sound like your gasping for breath," Alfred said. "Slow down."

"I've forgotten how to do it properly," Virgil said. "When you're alive, you don't think about it. When you're dead, it's not natural."

They were sitting in Rooney's Coffee. The morning rush had dissipated leaving half the tables empty. The customers who remained had computers or books and obviously planned to stay awhile. Virgil tried to remember what coffee smelled like but couldn't.

Sara was standing by the door, ready to introduce herself to the federal agents. Lisa was in a back corner with a newspaper covering most of her face.

"These agents won't tell us anything voluntarily," Alfred said. "We'll have to use our powers to encourage them."

"I'll let you go first," Virgil said.

"OK. I actually feel guilty about forcing people to be friendly. It's manipulative."

"It's part of the job. Heaven gave you that power for a reason."

"Do you feel bad about inflicting fear and shame?" Alfred said.

"Why should I? Learning the wages of sin is never a wasted lesson. I make people behave better. Speaking of which, what do you think of Cat?"

"Such a shame. That woman could've been a great success in many legitimate professions. These cases are usually a result of childhood neglect and abandonment."

Two men in nice suits entered the coffee shop. One wore brown and the other wore blue. Their muscular bodies and fluid movements put Virgil on edge. He recognized the signs of expert martial artists. Gun bulges showed they carried weapons under their jackets.

"They're worried," Alfred said. "I can see it in their eyes."

The agents spoke briefly to Sara, and she brought them over to the table. Everybody sat down.

"Hello," one man said. "I'm Mr. Bravo, and my associate is Mr. Charlie."

Bravo had an interesting scar under his left eye. He sat on the edge of his seat and leaned forward aggressively.

Virgil raised his eyebrows. "Your real names are secret?"

"Exactly. Do you mind if we see your police identification?"

Mei had created false identities for the whole team. Virgil, Alfred, and Sara took out their State Police ID cards and handed them over. Bravo used his phone to take pictures of the fronts and backs.

"What are you doing?" Virgil said.

"Taking pictures is faster than writing down names and numbers. We need to record who we talk to. Standard procedure." Bravo returned the cards.

Virgil was a little worried. If the agents called the State Police Department, they would quickly discover the ID cards were fake. Mei could do only so much.

"Can we get down to business, gentlemen?" Alfred said. "We have questions about that body."

Virgil could tell Alfred was using his special voice even though it had no effect on him. The sound resonated musically like the chords on a grand piano. The agents visibly relaxed.

"As was stated over the phone," Bravo said, "the entire matter is classified. I can tell you there is no danger to civilians. The O.E.A.P. has taken every conceivable step to contain the dangers inherent in our important research."

"We can't just take your word for that. We need some details. Just between you and me, one friend to another, what's really going on? I promise we'll keep the secret."

Both agents opened their mouths to respond, but they didn't speak. They were visibly struggling to fight off Alfred's power. Their strong wills impressed Virgil. He remembered soldiers sometimes received special training to resist interrogation.

"No," Bravo finally said in a tight voice. "We can't talk about it. I'm surprised the state police are involved. The victim was found in Chicago. Doesn't that department have jurisdiction?"

"Detective Haymaker asked for our help," Alfred said. "He hoped we might have better luck than him at dealing with an obstructive federal agency."

"No need for hostility. We're just following regulations."

Virgil noticed a woman sitting by the window. She had brown hair and glasses, but the shape of her face was familiar. He realized it was Cat Lady wearing an excellent disguise.
I'll give her points for persistence,
Virgil thought. Her head was angled so she could see his table out of the corner of her eye.

"That's odd," Alfred said. "What regulations allow for lethal tests on human subjects?"

"The death was an unfortunate accident," Bravo said. "We're working hard to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Vague promises don't impress me. Just give us enough information that we can feel satisfied we've done our job. I would hate to take this issue to the next level or maybe even go public with it. Nobody wants that, right? We all serve the public interest in one way or another. Let's cooperate."

The special quality in Alfred's voice was turned up to maximum power. Vigil saw people at nearby tables reacting even though Alfred was speaking softly.

Mr. Bravo and Mr. Charlie were visibly shaking, but they managed to keep their mouths closed. It took intense, specialized training to acquire that kind of strength of will.
These guys are Special Forces,
he thought.

Bravo abruptly stood up. "Let's get out of here."

"Yes, sir." Charlie got to his feet but leaned on the table to steady himself.

The two men shuffled towards the door. Their uncertain footsteps made them look drunk.

Lisa immediately moved to follow them back to their car. She would try to get the license plate number. Cat Lady was even quicker and hurried out as if she were late for an appointment. She bumped into Charlie just as the man was opening the door. The move was so slick, Virgil barely glimpsed her take Charlie's wallet. She went outside, and Virgil lost sight of her.

"Cat Lady," Alfred said.

"Yes," Virgil said. "I'll follow her. You and Sara stick with Lisa."

He sprinted to the door. He passed Lisa along the way, and she gave him a curious look, but he kept going.

He stepped outside into the bright sunlight and quickly looked around. The federal agents had turned left, and their footsteps were still slow and unsteady. Virgil assumed Cat Lady had gone right. He ran in that direction as quietly as possible.

He went two doors down and spotted Cat inside a laundromat. She was examining a wallet in her hands. He went inside.

"Well done," Virgil said. "I'll take that if you don't mind."

She did a nice job of hiding her surprise. "Take what?" Her voice sparkled with innocence.

He held out his hand. She meekly handed over the wallet.

"Keep it coming," he said impatiently.

Cat gave him a driver's license.

She sighed. "I could tell they were Special Forces when they walked in. Why are zombies talking to the military?"

"You think we're zombies?" Virgil said.

"You don't breathe, blink, or swallow. You have no blood vessels in your eyes. Lisa's wound closed in a couple of minutes. What else could you be?"

"Your powers of observation are impressive, but there are a few reasons why we can't work together. First, I don't trust you. You're a crook, and frankly, your behavior hasn't assured me you're ready to change your ways. Second, my management doesn't like outsiders getting involved in my business, and the guy I work for isn't somebody you want to annoy. Walk away while you can."

Cat stared at him. "Before today, I thought I had everything figured out. Making money was easy. The world was my ATM. Now for the first time in many years, I don't know what's going on, but it's obviously very important. It's exciting. I want in."

"So you can exploit me? You want my power. You see an opportunity to make a monster score."

"Or maybe you'll show me there is a better way to live. I wouldn't be the first crook who got religion. I'm open to all possibilities at this point. Just give me a fair chance."

Virgil's shoulders sagged. Mammon had repeatedly cautioned him to use his power sparingly, and Cat's experience was a good example of why. Virgil had unintentionally changed her life, and now he had to live with the consequences.

"I'll make a deal with you," he said. "My work involves deception, and your special skills might be useful at some point. If I have a moment of insanity and decide I need you, I'll call. Until then, stay away. It's for your protection as well as mine. If I catch you sniffing around again, you'll meet the nasty Virgil, and you won't like him."

Cat nodded. "OK."

"One other thing. If I call, the job will be very dangerous, and you won't get paid. You'll be risking your life for the good of humanity."

She winced. "No money?"

"Just the satisfaction of a job well done," he said. "You can't tell anybody either. That's how my team rolls. Still interested?"

"Fine," she said bitterly. "I suppose that's what I asked for."

"And don't try to con me. My management would put you in a place much worse than any prison. Give me your number."

Cat told him a phone number, and he wrote it down on a notepad.

"When I call, it had better not go to an answering machine. I won't leave a message. See you later." Virgil left the laundromat.

He found the rest of the team half a block down the street. Lisa was peeking around the corner of a building into a parking lot. Alfred and Sara were standing out of sight.

"What's going on?" Virgil whispered.

"Those guys are sitting in a car," Lisa said. "I think they're making a call."

Chapter Five

Colonel Jack Knox was sitting in his office. It wasn't a bad place to work considering it had been a family room just a month ago. He had a standard desk made of steel painted green. His chair was well padded and comfortable. A bookshelf held a mix of award plaques, framed certificates, and manuals. A big bay window allowed sunlight into the room, but unfortunately, he had to keep the curtains closed so the neighbors wouldn't see inside.

The phone on his desk rang.

He grabbed the handset. "Hello?"

"This is Captain Kyle, sir. I just finished meeting with the Illinois State Police."

Knox knew the captain as a particularly skilled and honorable officer. He ran most of the field operations for the Special Unit and was often the lead man on sensitive assignments. He had a characteristic scar under his left eye.

"How did it go?" Knox said.

"I think they tried to use some kind of mind-control on us," Kyle said.

"Huh?" Knox straightened up. "Explain."

"It's difficult to be specific, sir. One of them had a voice which affected my brain. I suddenly felt very relaxed and cooperative. I wanted to tell him everything and almost did. It was like a truth serum but without an injection."

"Did you talk?"

"No, sir," Kyle said. "Thanks to our training, my lieutenant and I were able to resist, but it was hard. I've never felt anything like it."

"Did you identify the State Police officers?"

"Our body cameras got pictures of their faces, and I used my phone to photograph their ID cards. I already sent the photos to intelligence."

"Good," Knox said. "Well done."

"I should also mention my lieutenant lost his wallet, sir."

"How?"

"He doesn't know," Kyle said, "but it just contained fake ID. Nothing sensitive. Should we come back to headquarters?"

Knox paused. "No. Find a safe location to wait. Make sure nobody is following you. I'll send an electronic countermeasures van to make sure you're not bugged."