The Orphan Uprising (The Orphan Trilogy, #3) (44 page)

After Seventeen had finished checking emails at the Internet café, her first priority had been to quit the four-wheel drive hire vehicle they’d borrowed. The former operative was aware its smashed rear windscreen was attracting attention and the vehicle provided a traceable link between her and the deceased Nineteen. She parked it in a waterfront hotel car park then caught a cab back to the backstreet motel where she’d left Isabelle and Annette.

Seventeen’s next priority had been to confide in Isabelle her decision to accompany the Frenchwoman and Annette to Vanuatu. That news had been well received by Isabelle who couldn’t imagine being separated from the former operative – especially not before she was reunited with Nine and Francis.

The mood had been upbeat since Seventeen received Nine’s email. For Isabelle, knowing that she and her boys would all soon be reunited was a dream come true; baby Annette’s arrival was the icing on the cake.

Though Seventeen was encouraged by recent developments, she remained cautious. The Ukrainian incident of a few hours earlier reminded her that these were still dangerous times. Seventeen didn’t know for sure whether all Omega’s orphan-operatives had been taken out of the picture. And even if they had been, there was no way of knowing whether more contract killers were on their way. For all she knew, they could already be in Tahiti.

Isabelle, who was breastfeeding Annette, noticed her sister-in-law seemed worried. “What’s wrong, Jennifer?” she asked.

Seventeen wanted to shield Isabelle from any further stress. She was mindful that the Frenchwoman had been through a lot since Francis’ abduction and didn’t want to load more stress onto her. However, she realized this time she had no choice.

Over the next ten minutes, Seventeen explained to Isabelle the risks they still faced and what they needed to do to keep their rendezvous with Nine and Francis in Vanuatu. To her relief, Isabelle stoically accepted the fact they weren’t yet out of the woods. The longer she spent with the Frenchwoman, the more substance she realized she had. She’d come round to the firm belief that Isabelle was a worthy wife for her brother.

As for Isabelle, she realized she now looked on her sister-in-law as a true friend. That revelation had come as a shock to her. A few weeks earlier she hated Seventeen and could never have envisaged growing to like the woman who had terminated her parents. However, she was wise enough to know the Seventeen of today was a different person to the one who had been operating under the mind-controlled influence of MK-Ultra. The old Seventeen would never have risked her life to help protect her and help reunite her with Nine and Francis.

Isabelle suddenly hugged her opposite.

“What was that for?” a surprised Seventeen asked.

“Just for being here for us,” Isabelle said.

The two women shared a tear as they hugged each other.

When Isabelle pressed against Seventeen’s wound, it reminded the former operative she needed to change the dressing. Ever the professional, she broke away, saying, “Okay, we have a lot to do.”

Isabelle smiled and resumed feeding Annette as Seventeen went to the bathroom and inspected her wound. Relieved to find it was healing well and the stitches remained intact, she changed the dressing then re-joined Isabelle and began making final preparations for their departure from Tahiti.

#

Next morning, Isabelle and Seventeen travelled to Fa'a'ā International Airport in separate cabs. They were now unrecognizable, having adopted different guises the previous afternoon.

Isabelle, who was nursing a sleeping Annette in the back seat of one cab, was in the guise of a plump, matronly, new mom complete with puffed-out cheeks and padding that added quite a few extra pounds. An unflattering hairstyle combined with light brown hair dye administered by Seventeen had rendered the Frenchwoman unrecognizable even to herself. The only concession she made to her old self was she still wore the ruby and silver necklace Nine had left with her.

In the other cab, Seventeen was in the guise of a French tomboy complete with a GI-style haircut, a nose ring, fake tattoo, hikers’ boots and mannish attire.

The former operative had deemed it safer that she and Isabelle travel to Vanuatu separately. She knew if anyone was still looking for them, they’d be expecting to see two women traveling together. Both were aware the baby was a complication, but there was nothing they could do about that.

To allay Isabelle’s fears, Seventeen had told her their enemies would be looking for a pregnant woman as they had no way of knowing she’d already given birth. Isabelle knew her sister-in-law was putting a positive spin on things, but she didn’t let on.

The women were flying to Vanuatu via New Caledonia. Isabelle was supposedly going to show off her new baby to family living in the South Pacific island nation’s capital Port Vila while Seventeen was posing as a documentary filmmaker on a scouting expedition.

The pair hadn’t had a spare minute since checking into their backstreet motel the previous afternoon. In between tending to Annette’s needs, they’d changed into their new guises – a drawn-out, sometimes-hilarious, two-hour exercise. Then they’d checked out of the motel and separately checked into an upmarket, downtown hotel under assumed names.

After dark, they’d gone by cab to an underworld contact Nine had referred Seventeen to before she left Chicago. Bruce Zhi was a Chinese migrant on the payroll of Hong Kong’s 14K Triad gang. Nine had used the man’s unique services whilst on assignment for Omega eight years earlier.

Zhi had relocated to Papeete three years ago. His mission was to establish safe houses in Tahiti and elsewhere in the Pacific Islands for 14K triads who were attracting too much heat from Asian law enforcement agencies. One of his special skills was forging passports, and that’s why Seventeen and Isabelle sought him out.

Nine had paid the triad in advance, and the entire process ended up being quick and painless for the two women. Zhi had taken their photos and secured their details that night, and then hand-delivered the false passports to their hotel early the next morning.

#

Three uneventful hours later, Isabelle checked Annette’s baby restraints in the seat next to her as the Air Tahiti Nui airliner lifted off. Mother and daughter were flying Business Class; Seventeen was up front in the First Class compartment.

Isabelle was fortunate to have a window seat. The Frenchwoman was able to view Tahiti and its outer islands as the aircraft headed west toward New Caledonia. She looked at the northern horizon for a glimpse of her beloved Marquesas Islands even though she was aware they were too far away to see.

Isabelle’s emotions were in turmoil. Sad to be leaving French Polynesia and the memories and friends she’d made there over the past five years, she was happy beyond words to know she’d soon be reunited with Nine and Francis, and she had a healthy, beautiful baby girl.

#

While Isabelle, Annette and Seventeen were leaving Tahitian airspace, Nine and Francis were still waiting to depart Honolulu. Their three-hour delay had ended up an overnight delay as Air New Zealand engineers grappled to resolve the technical problem that had struck their aircraft. The airline had put the affected passengers up in an airport motel.

Normally, Nine would have taken such a delay in his stride, but this was different. His condition was deteriorating with every hour, and every hour’s delay increased the likelihood that he wouldn’t survive long enough to be reunited with Isabelle or see their new baby daughter.

Nine’s heart pains were recurring with frightening regularity. He knew he should seek medical help immediately.

95

Thirty-six hours after departing Tahiti, Isabelle and Seventeen had their first real argument. Their Air Tahiti Nui flight to New Caledonia had been uneventful, as had the brief stopover there and the final leg aboard a Qantas plane to Port Vila, in Vanuatu. The women had expected Nine and Francis to be waiting for them when they arrived at Port Vila Airport. Instead, they learned that flight delays had put the pair behind schedule.

Putting that disappointment behind them, Isabelle and Seventeen had rented a comfortable beachfront villa on the outskirts of town. They’d dispensed with their disguises and had thankfully reverted to being themselves, albeit under false names – although Seventeen had still been left with her unflattering GI-style haircut.

Under normal circumstances, their stay would have been an enjoyable one. However, the latest delay was getting on their nerves – especially Isabelle’s. She couldn’t wait to see her husband and son.

So, as the hour of their delayed arrival neared, Isabelle insisted on traveling to the airport to greet them. Seventeen opposed that, explaining it would put Nine and Francis at risk if anyone was still tracking them.

Isabelle fired up and argued heatedly with her sister-in-law until sanity finally prevailed.

“We must wait for them to come to us,” Seventeen said soothingly. “Otherwise we could be putting them in danger.” She knew that was unlikely, but didn’t want to take the risk.

Close to tears, Isabelle asked, “How will Sebastian know where to find us?”

“I left a note for him at the airport’s Information Office. He knows to call in there as soon as he gets through Customs.”

Isabelle relaxed. She realized Seventeen was right.

“I’ll check the flight,” Seventeen said. The former operative immediately phoned the local Aircalin office and confirmed the flight Nine and Francis were to connect with in Fiji had departed on schedule.

#

For Isabelle, the next three hours were unbearable. She passed them making small talk with Seventeen, pacing up and down the villa’s shady veranda, and feeding and changing a fretful Annette. Like her mom and aunt, the baby wasn’t comfortable in Port Vila’s oppressive heat and humidity.

Seventeen was first to see the cab as it pulled up outside the villa. “They’re here!” she called out.

Isabelle, who was holding Annette, handed the baby to Seventeen then ran down the veranda’s front steps to greet the cab.

At that very moment, light rain began falling, but the Frenchwoman didn’t even notice. Behind her, Seventeen remained on the veranda with Annette. She wanted to give her sister-in-law and brother some space.

In the cab’s rear seat, Nine and Francis had changed out of their Sikh guises. No-one was happier about that than Francis who was enjoying being a boy once more.

Nine was first to spot Isabelle approaching. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered. “There’s your mom,” he said, fighting back tears. He opened the near door for Francis to let him scramble over him and run to his mother.

“Francis!” Isabelle shrieked when she saw her son.

Francis ran straight into her arms. Crying with joy, Isabelle swept him off the ground and showered him with kisses.

Nine wanted to join them, but he couldn’t. The invisible band that had been tightening around his chest since he’d disembarked from the plane was now so tight he could hardly breathe. He suspected he was going into cardiac arrest.

Using the last of his strength, he reached forward and tapped the cabbie’s shoulder. “I am feeling unwell,” he muttered. “Would you help me out?”

The cabbie, an elderly Melanesian man, climbed out of the cab and helped his ailing passenger from the rear seat onto the grassy kerb.

Only then did Isabelle see Nine. Realizing something was wrong, she released Francis and hurried over to her husband. “Sebastian!”

Nine began to topple over. He was too heavy for the cabbie to hold, but the old man was able to cushion his passenger’s fall and lay him gently down on the grassy strip alongside the cab. The cabbie then returned to the front seat and called for an ambulance on his radio-telephone.

The light rain that had begun earlier was still falling and the grass was now wet, but the ailing Nine didn’t even notice that. Before he knew it he was in Isabelle’s embrace. She was kneeling beside him, cradling his head in her loving arms and kissing his forehead.

“My darling!” Isabelle murmured. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong…sweetheart.” Hiding his pain behind a smile, he reached up and stroked his wife’s beautiful face. “Everything’s exactly as it should be now.”

“What’s wrong with papa?” Francis asked.

Nine recognized his son’s voice. Sensing he didn’t have long, he grasped Isabelle’s arm. “Help me sit up!” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Isabelle looked around at the concerned cabbie who was now hovering close by. “Help me, will you?”

Together, Isabelle and the cabbie propped Nine up so he was sitting, his back resting against the side of the cab.

Without waiting to be asked, Francis went to his father’s side and sat down beside him. It was then Nine saw Seventeen approaching. He could see she was holding a tiny bundle in her arms.

Seventeen stopped just short of Nine and lowered the tiny bundle into her brother’s arms. “Sebastian, meet your daughter, Annette Nicia Hannar.”

Nine looked at his daughter’s face in wonderment then held her to his chest. “Annette,” he whispered. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek as he was reminded of Annette Hannar, the mother he’d never known.

Seventeen stepped back to allow Nine to enjoy a loving reunion with his small family. She had no idea what was ailing her brother, but she had a bad feeling. He didn’t look well.

Nine could feel himself slipping away. The chest pains that had gripped him earlier had been replaced by a numbness and he was finding it even harder to breathe. Everyone around him looked worried and seemed to be talking to him, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Despite his precarious physical state, Nine felt an amazing calmness descend – almost as if he was in a state of euphoria.
I did it!
The ninth-born orphan had achieved what he’d set out to do and rescued his son from the very people who had so cruelly taken his own childhood away. He had also lived to hold his daughter in his arms, he’d been reunited with Isabelle, his soul mate and one true love, and he’d seen his long-lost sister once more.