The Orphan Uprising (The Orphan Trilogy, #3) (34 page)

As soon as Seven entered the hospital, Seventeen walked over to the Renault, picking up discarded papers as she went and placing them in a rubbish bag she carried. The car park was half full, but apart from a visitor parking his car some distance away and a skateboarder weaving around the stationery vehicles she had it pretty much to herself.

Seventeen quickly checked that no-one was looking then drew a small tool from her rubbish bag and deftly used it to access the vehicle’s front passenger door. Satisfied she hadn’t been observed, she slipped inside the car, closing the door softly after her.

Sitting as low as she could inside the vehicle, Seventeen retrieved more items from her bag. Among them was a small but powerful car bomb, which she’d been up half the night assembling. The former operative placed the device beneath the driver’s seat then tied the fuse to the driver’s door handle.

Moving cautiously so as not to prematurely detonate the bomb, she opened the front passenger door and climbed out, closing the door gently behind her. She then strolled casually over to a rubbish bin on the far side of the car park and emptied the contents of her bag into it.

Seventeen knew she should depart the scene, but something made her stick around. She didn’t want the death or injury of some innocent bystander on her conscience. Though the bomb she’d rigged was only small, it was powerful enough to kill or maim anyone in the immediate vicinity should it explode.

The former operative had first-hand experience of the destructive powers of such improvised explosive devices. She’d become familiar with their assembly and use while working alongside CIA personnel during America’s occupation of Afghanistan and Iraq prior to that.

Seventeen busied herself picking up rubbish when she saw Seven emerge from the hospital. As the operative walked toward his vehicle, the skateboarder Seventeen had observed earlier chose that moment to send his skateboard flying into one of the cars parked next to Seven’s Renault. It appeared the skateboard had scratched the door of the neighboring car.

The skateboarder, a pimply teenage boy, was inspecting the damage when Seven joined him. Though Seventeen couldn’t hear what was being said, she imagined the discussion had to do with the mishap. She watched, heart in mouth, as Seven handed the skateboarder a pen and a piece of paper for the boy to leave his name and address for the owner of the damaged car. The boy obliged, leaving the paper beneath one of the car’s windscreen wipers.

To Seventeen’s consternation, the skateboarder hung around as Seven approached the Renault. She daren’t wait any longer. “Hey!” she shouted.

Both Seven and the skateboarder turned and looked at her as she strode toward them.

“You!” she pointed straight at the skateboarder and spoke French in keeping with the nationality of most of Papeete’s workers. “This is not a skating rink. Now get out of here before I report you.” She made sure she kept her head down so her cap would hide most of her face from Seven.

The skateboarder stared at Seventeen insolently. For one terrible moment the former operative thought the boy was going to disobey her. To her everlasting relief, he thought better of it and skated off.

Seven caught Seventeen’s eye.  “Teenagers,” he said sympathetically.

“Tell me about it,” Seventeen laughed as she turned and walked away. Just before she’d turned, she thought she caught a look of recognition in her fellow orphan’s eyes. She continued walking, but could feel Seven’s eyes boring a hole in her back.

Seven had a feeling he’d seen the grounds person before, but he wasn’t able to place her as he fumbled for his car key. He found his key and recognized the woman almost at the same instant. Almost but not quite. As Seven realized the grounds person he was looking at was Seventeen, he depressed the remote on the key.

Seventeen felt the blast of the explosion from where she was, and she was a good thirty yards away. She spun around and was relieved to see the skateboarder was unharmed, and thankfully no-one else appeared to be in the immediate vicinity.

At first she couldn’t see the Renault. It was hidden behind a cloud of smoke. The smoke cleared almost immediately and she saw Seven, or what was left of him, lying a few yards from the burning car. Both were unrecognizable. The operative had been reduced to a smoldering, charcoal carcass and the Renault had been reduced to a skeleton of white hot steel.

People converged on the car park seemingly out of nowhere. They included hospital staff and visitors. Several screamed when they realized they were looking at the charred remains of a body.

Seventeen took advantage of the sudden chaos to slip away. Her first port of call was a unisex restroom where she removed her green cap and uniform, leaving only the shirt and shorts she was already wearing. She still wore the same hikers’ boots, but they complemented her current outfit.

Now bearing no resemblance to the grounds person who had entered the restroom a few moments earlier, she emerged from it and walked to the rental car she’d left parked outside the front of the hospital. As she walked, her thoughts were already on the next operatives on her list.

72

Naylor’s day had not ended as well as it had begun. That morning, Ten had called him and advised there hadn’t been any sign of Nine anywhere near Nellis Air Force Base, nor anywhere in Nevada for that matter. It appeared the rogue operative hadn’t learned of the existence of Omega’s latest orphanage.

Shortly after that, the Omega boss had received another call from the base – this time from Doctor Andrews who reported that Francis was now fully recovered from his recent ailment and testing was about to begin.

That good news had been undone by the phone call Naylor received just as he was about to depart his office for home. Nineteen had called from Papeete to advise it seemed Twenty Three’s death was suspicious and, on top of that, Seven had been assassinated by a car bomber.

The escalation of activity in Tahiti confirmed to Naylor’s mind that Seventeen was indeed in Tahiti. It also prompted him to suspect that Nine could have returned there to be with his wife and to help Seventeen protect her.

Naylor was tempted to send still more operatives to Tahiti to squash the resistance once and for all. He decided against doing that for the moment. Recent events had seen Omega’s orphan-operatives reduced in number, leaving the agency under-resourced for the first time since its Pedemont orphans had graduated as fully fledged operatives. The remaining operatives were all engaged in vital missions around the globe and Naylor couldn’t pull them away without very good reason. He just hoped his two operatives still operational in Tahiti were good enough to resolve the problem on their own.

#

Sitting down for dinner with her extended Tahitian family on a rug on the floor of their home, Isabelle felt strangely at peace for the moment – strange because she was aware she should be up the wall with grief and worry over her abducted son and her missing husband.

Despite the undeniable precariousness of the situation, the Frenchwoman had a strong feeling all would end well. She couldn’t explain the feeling, not even to herself, but it persisted.

Looking around at the islanders who had taken her in without question and given her sanctuary, Isabelle was overflowing with goodwill toward them. The generosity they’d shown left her humbled. Though they were not wealthy in material terms, they wanted nothing from her in return.

As at all mealtimes, the Pomare family home was overflowing with children of all ages. They were lovingly watched over by parents, uncles and aunts, and by two sets of grandparents. Official head of the busy household was Manoa Pomare, a physically strong man with a stern countenance. However, everyone in the settlement knew the real boss was Atea, his wife and the family matriarch.

Larger than life – in every sense – Atea was the one who family members and villagers turned to when something needed doing. She was also the settlement’s most experienced midwife and in that capacity had formed a close relationship with Isabelle, fussing over her and ensuring that she was well and rested.

Though the villagers spoke Tahitian te roa, their native tongue, when in each other’s company, out of respect to Isabelle they spoke French when she was around. In return, she made a conscious effort to master key words and phrases in their language. Her efforts bordered on hilarious, though the villagers never let on.

Isabelle sensed the baby was coming even before the pains began. A warm sensation that began in her belly gradually spread to her extremities. That was followed by a tingling sensation and then her waters broke. “Atea,” she murmured.

No-one heard her above the sound of laughing children.

“Atea!” Isabelle shouted. The laughter stopped and all eyes were suddenly on the Frenchwoman. “Baby’s coming.”

Atea’s big, round face creased into a smile. “Baby’s coming!” she shouted, echoing Isabelle.

The matriarch swung into action, shushing the children and chaperoning Isabelle through to a bedroom at the rear of the dwelling. Two aunties accompanied Atea. The three Tahitian women knew what to do: between them they’d delivered at least a hundred babies over the years.

73

Seventeen wasn’t letting up in her mission to hunt down her fellow orphans. She felt she had momentum going her way now and wanted to maintain that momentum before they could get to Isabelle.

The former operative had been observing the front of Hotel Tiare Tahiti from her rented Honda since dusk. Her plan was to somehow isolate Eight and Nineteen, and pick them off one at a time, as she’d done with the others.

Seventeen, who was still in her Belgian guise, was under no illusions about what she was up against. Nor did she doubt how it would end. She’d been around Omega long enough to know it could only end one way: with her death. For every operative she incapacitated, Naylor would send two more in their place.

Ultimately, her luck would run out. She knew that, but it was a price she was prepared to pay.

For the first time ever, she felt she had a real purpose in life. She had her brother to thank for that. Nine had pulled her from the dark abyss she’d fallen into.
Or was pushed into more like it!
And she’d had a taste of what it was like to be part of a real family.

Seventeen felt she was indebted to Nine, and if it meant sacrificing her life to protect his wife and baby to repay that debt, so be it.

The former operative tensed as two familiar figures emerged from the hotel’s entrance and hailed a cab. She observed Nineteen open the cab’s rear door for Eight and jump in the front seat. Eight was about to climb into the cab when she received a call on her cell phone.

Seventeen watched as the female operative motioned to Nineteen that he should go on without her. The cab drove off, leaving Eight alone on the sidewalk. Still talking on her phone, she re-entered the hotel.

That was the opening Seventeen had been waiting for. She climbed from her car and hurried after Eight. The former operative stepped into the lobby just in time to see her target enter an empty escalator. She watched as the lift buttons signaled that Eight had an uninterrupted ride to the fifth floor – the hotel’s top floor.

Seventeen crossed the lobby and caught another elevator. This one was near-full of Japanese tourists who had entered it in the basement. It soon became apparent they were staying in rooms on different floors.

The journey to the fifth floor seemed to take an eternity. After four stops to permit the tourists to access their individual rooms, the elevator finally delivered Seventeen to her destination.

Now, alone on the fifth floor, she wasn’t sure what to do. For a start, she hadn’t a clue which room her target was in.

The answer came almost immediately when a door halfway along the corridor opened and Eight reappeared. She was still talking on her phone as she walked back to the elevator. Seventeen noted she was speaking in Russian, but the former operative was certain she had been speaking English when she’d first emerged from her room. It was obvious Eight didn’t want anyone to understand what she was saying.

As Eight approached, Seventeen pressed the elevator’s
Down
button to make it appear she’d been waiting to descend. She prayed they’d have the elevator to themselves.

The two women nodded to each other as they waited for the elevator door to open. When it opened, Seventeen waited for her unsuspecting companion to enter the elevator first then followed her inside and pressed the
Down Button
.

Standing close to the door with her back to Eight as they began to descend, Seventeen listened as the operative continued her conversation in Russian.

“Yes, sir,” Eight murmured. “I’m confident we can handle the situation.”

Seventeen deduced Eight was talking to Naylor, or to an Omega superior at least. She wondered if the discussion was about sending more reinforcements to Tahiti.

“No they still don’t know what type of explosive device was used,” Eight said. “The gendarmes are still looking into that.”

Watching the operative with the Asian features talking behind her in the reflection of the shiny elevator door, Seventeen could see she was engrossed in her conversation. With her right hand Seventeen reached for the pistol she carried in her open shoulder bag while with her left forefinger she hit the
Stop
button. The elevator stopped with a jerk midway between floors three and two. Seventeen muttered her annoyance in French and pretended to push the
Down
button in an attempt to restart the elevator.

“Hold on one second, sir,” Eight said into the phone. Switching to French and speaking to the back of Seventeen’s head, she asked, “What’s the problem, Madam?”

“It seems to have stalled,” Seventeen said.

“Let me see- -”

As Eight stepped forward to help, Seventeen spun around, pistol raised. It was just as well she turned when she did. A second later and she’d have been dead.

Eight had become suspicious of the woman in front of her just before she stepped forward. By the time the former operative had spun around, Eight had drawn her own pistol and was preparing to use it.