The Orphan Uprising (The Orphan Trilogy, #3) (12 page)

Nine smiled grimly. “Yes and I have a good idea who, or what, that bad company was. Omega.”

“I vaguely remember Naylor telling me that mom died of an overdose when she went back on the drugs a short time after I was born. Grandpa confirmed that.”

“Well Naylor was lying, and Grandpa obviously believed the official story. Naylor had our mother terminated and concocted the story about a drug overdose.”

A shocked Seventeen asked, “Why?”

“You remember Yannie Hertzog?”

Seventeen looked blank.

“Omega’s man in Cape Town,” Nine continued. “He confided in me that Naylor had mom terminated because she was considered a security threat.”

“A security threat? How?”

“Not sure. Hertzog thought it could have been something to do with her threatening to go to the authorities if she couldn’t have contact with us.”

A suddenly emotional Seventeen leaned forward and rested her head on Nine’s shoulder. Before she knew it, she was crying as a myriad of emotions erupted within her.

Nine stroked her blonde hair tenderly.

“Oh Sebastian, look what Omega did to our mother. And now Grandpa,” she sobbed. “And we can’t even arrange a funeral for him.”

There was nothing he could say that would comfort her. Besides, Sebastian Senior was dead, but Francis was very much alive. Nine was very aware if what Naylor said was true Francis would soon be subjected to cutting-edge medical experiments.
All in the name of science
. With every passing hour, the risk to his son increased.

Nine suddenly noticed Seventeen looking at him anxiously. “What is it?” he asked.

“How will Isabelle receive me?”

Nine knew from their earlier discussions that Seventeen had no recollection of murdering Isabelle’s parents. Nor did she recall having interned Isabelle in the CIA detention center in Andorra. After the recent traumas she’d been through, he wasn’t sure she could handle learning the truth.

However, Nine realized he’d have to tell her what happened before she left for Tahiti.
It might as well be now
. He looked at her seriously. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

For the next ten minutes, Seventeen listened in shocked silence as Nine related how she’d killed Mister and Missus Alleget, and tortured Isabelle in a CIA detention center as part of an Omega operation to try to capture Nine. By the time he’d finished, Seventeen was shaking her head in disbelief.

“But I remember none of this,” she whispered ashen-faced.

“Of course you don’t. One of the side-effects of MK-Ultra is memory loss.”

Seventeen couldn’t speak for some time. She just sat there, staring into space, as she tried to make sense of the awful news Nine had just delivered. Finally she whispered, “Isabelle must hate me.”

“She does,” Nine conceded, “but she’ll also recognize she needs your help.” He put as positive a spin on it as possible, but wasn’t sure he even believed it himself. “Plus, you can explain to her you were under the spell of MK-Ultra when you killed her parents.”

Seventeen shook her head sadly. “I was a really bad person, wasn’t I?”

Nine looked at his sister in a new light. He was seeing signs of a conscience in her he’d never seen before. “We were both forced to terminate many innocent people, Jennifer.”

23

Seventeen had mixed emotions as she entered the Business Class compartment of the Air Tahiti Nui flight that would deliver her to Papeete. Still grieving over the loss of her beloved grandfather less than twenty-four hours earlier, she nevertheless felt more alive and invigorated than she had in a long time.

The former operative, who was traveling in the guise of a Dutch tourist, felt as though she was embarking on a mission as a working agent. In a way, she was. Only this time she was working against the Omega Agency, not for it. After how Naylor had treated her, that made her feel good.

Seventeen also felt guilty. Guilty that she should feel so alive and exhilarated so soon after her grandfather’s death. She tried to put that out of her mind as she looked for her seat number. Then she saw it: seat number
9
. She took it as a good omen she’d been allocated the same number her brother had been allotted by their Omega masters at birth.

As Seventeen placed her hand luggage in an overhead compartment, a familiar face caught her eye. She started when she realized she was looking at Fifteen, her former Omega colleague. The Latino, who was already sitting in an aisle seat several rows behind Seventeen’s seat, looked briefly at her as he scanned all his business class traveling companions – just as he’d been trained to do.

Fifteen returned his attention to the attractive woman several rows ahead as she closed the door of the overhead compartment. Not because he’d recognized her, but because he found her easy on the eye.

Seventeen turned her back on him and sat down as quickly as she could without attracting any more attention than she already had. Mercifully, she had a window seat, so she was hidden from Fifteen for the moment at least. She found her heart was hammering away. A hundred unanswered questions raced through her mind.
Did he recognize me? Is he going to Papeete or getting off at Los Angeles? Is he looking for Isabelle too?
Then she remembered she was disguised and unrecognizable. So that took care of the first question, she hoped.

The former operative knew her other questions would be largely answered when they reached Los Angeles where their flight had a scheduled one-hour stopover before continuing to Papeete. If Fifteen remained on board for the entire flight, she could be certain he’d been sent to look for Isabelle.

Seventeen could feel her competitive juices flowing. She hadn’t experienced that since her days as an active operative. All of a sudden, she was relishing the idea of pitting her skills and wits against her fellow orphan-operatives. Why the renewed confidence, she couldn’t be sure, but she assumed it had something to do with Nine and the deprogramming he’d arranged for her.

An hour into the flight, Seventeen had to use a restroom. She opted to use one of the restroom cubicles toward the front of business class. That meant Fifteen would see her face when she returned to her seat. Better that, she figured, than walking right by him to use a cubicle to the rear. Steeling herself, she stood up and walked to the nearest cubicle.

Inside the cubicle, Seventeen checked her disguise. She couldn’t fault it. Her blonde hair was now dyed red. Generous use of an artificial tanning agent ensured her normally pale skin looked tanned and clever use of makeup added ten years to her actual age.

Satisfied, Seventeen emerged from the cubicle and walked as casually as she could back to her seat. She’d hoped Fifteen would be sleeping, but he wasn’t. Without looking directly at him, she could see he was wide awake and surveying her as she walked down the aisle. By the time she reached her seat and sat down, she was shaking. Seventeen prayed yet again that Fifteen hadn’t recognized her.

#

As the Air Tahiti Nui flight crossed America’s Midwest, Twenty Three was doing the rounds of maternity shops and baby’s clothing stores in Papeete. He was showing Isabelle’s photo to managers and staff, and even to customers, in the hope he could find someone who recognized her. However, he had no more luck than when he’d visited most of the town’s restaurants earlier that day or the hospital and medical centers the previous night.

Twenty Three was almost certain Isabelle wasn’t in Papeete. He’d searched high and low. He vowed he’d expand the search for her beyond the municipality as soon as Fifteen arrived. The extra manpower would enable him to search the entire island of Tahiti while Fifteen could start searching the outer islands. Meanwhile, he was resigned to more legwork as he still had more venues to visit in Papeete.

#

At the same time, less than an hour’s drive away, the woman that Twenty Three was scouring Papeete to find was resting in the shade of a covered veranda at the home of her Thai friends. Still worried out of her mind, she was unable to admire the view the veranda afforded.

The home was one of a dozen modest bungalows that made up the small, self-contained commune that had been home for Isabelle since Chai, the nephew of their old friend Luang, had collected her in the middle of the night in Papeete. That had been several days ago.

In that time, no outsiders had visited the commune. It was at the end of a gravel road and well off the beaten track. The only comings and goings were those of the residents themselves. Chai and his co-workers took turns to take a van-load of freshly picked vegetables into Papeete early each morning to sell at the local markets. 

The commune was situated in a narrow valley. High, jungle-covered mountains rose up on either side of the valley, giving it a Shangri-La sort of feel.

Most of the commune’s residents were market gardeners. Rows of neatly tended vegetables stretched almost the entire width of the valley. One end of the valley opened up into banana plantations owned and operated by local Tahitians, and beyond these the Pacific Ocean could be seen – a sparkling slither of blue in the distance.

Under normal circumstances, Isabelle would have relished her stay in such an idyllic location. However, circumstances were far from normal and she felt she was going up the wall. While the gated commune was secure and comfortable enough, and her friends were the most hospitable of hosts, Isabelle feared she may never see her husband or son again. She was beside herself with worry.

Thinking of Nine prompted Isabelle to reach for the ruby he’d given her. It hung as a permanent adornment from the silver necklace she wore. Its touch brought her comfort, just as it had Nine.

Isabelle was fearful for the wellbeing of her unborn child, too. The knowledge that people were looking for her so that they could take her baby, as they had Francis, terrified her.

#

As Seventeen queued to pass through Customs at Papeete’s Fa'a'ā International Airport, she made sure she remained behind Fifteen in the queue. And she ensured she kept several other passengers between herself and the operative at all times. Not just because she wanted to minimize the risk of being seen and possibly identified, but because she wanted to observe him without being at all obvious. She was keen to see whether anyone was at the airport to meet him.

Seventeen had established that Fifteen was continuing on to Papeete when he’d remained on board the Air Tahiti Nui flight during its one-hour stopover in Los Angeles. That had been a sobering moment, confirming that she’d be matching her wits against at least two Omega operatives – Fifteen and Twenty Three – in Tahiti. She assumed the latter was still there.

The former orphan-operative didn’t have long to wait to find out. She and the other new arrivals were soon through Customs.

Seventeen emerged into the Arrivals Lounge in time to see Fifteen being greeted with a handshake by Twenty Three. Observing the pair took her back to when she was an active Omega operative. She couldn’t help thinking how times had changed. When she was in the field, all the orphan-operatives – or the
elites
as Naylor insisted on calling them – nearly always traveled in disguise.

The former operative wondered if standards were slipping at the agency.

#

The following morning, Isabelle didn’t recognize the tanned, red-headed tourist who arrived unannounced at the commune in a rental Jeep. Watching from the kitchen window of her bungalow, she tensed when she heard the visitor ask for her by name.

Isabelle’s first thought was that the woman was an Omega operative. Remaining out of sight, she listened as the visitor spoke to the Thai market gardener who had greeted her.

“Sebastian has sent me to find Isabelle,” the visitor said. “I am Sebastian’s sister, Jennifer Hannar.”

Isabelle thought she was hearing things. The visitor didn’t remotely resemble the operative who had interned her in Andorra after killing her parents. Nor had Nine mentioned he would be recruiting her services. Isabelle studied the woman closely, looking for some sign she was who she claimed to be.

“I have a note for Isabelle from Sebastian,” the visitor said, waving an envelope.

That decided it for Isabelle. Against her better judgment, she walked out onto the verandah. “You are looking for me?” she called out.

The visitor headed straight for her. As she neared, Isabelle thought there was something familiar about the way she moved.

“Hello, Isabelle,” Seventeen said. She held the envelope out. “Sebastian asked me to give this to you.”

Shaking, Isabelle took the envelope from the woman who claimed to be Jennifer Hannar. She opened the envelope and instantly recognized Nine’s handwriting. “It is you!” she said, looking back at Seventeen.

The former operative smiled. “As you can see, my brother sent me to look after you.”

Isabelle read the note quickly. In it, Nine confirmed he’d sent Seventeen to protect her. He also asked her to trust his sister and he reminded her that Seventeen had been under the insidious influence of MK-Ultra mind control when she’d terminated her parents.

Reading the note again, the Frenchwoman felt sick to her stomach. She couldn’t believe her husband had recruited the services of the one person on earth she truly hated.

Seventeen thought she could read what was going through her sister-in-law’s mind. She imagined she could feel the vibes of resentment Isabelle was directing her way.

“I’m sorry,” Seventeen said.

“You’re sorry?” Isabelle replied sarcastically in French. “Exactly what are you sorry about? Arriving unannounced or murdering my parents in cold blood?”

Seventeen had no answer and couldn’t even look at Isabelle. She’d warned Nine this would be his wife’s reaction – and so it had turned out.

24

Nine’s arrival in Greenland was a first for him. Of all fifty-three countries he’d visited while an active operative with Omega, he’d never been to the mysterious, scenic land of Erik the Red and the other infamous Viking explorers and plunderers.