The Radical (Unity Vol.1) (5 page)

Their
deaths had thrown my whole ideal system into chaos. Admittedly I buried myself in work to counteract the truth. I used my anguish to my advantage, galvanizing myself to stand against
them
. Not knowing what had really happened to Mom and Dad had nearly driven me crazy.

I took
my job to unique heights and became notorious, unrelenting in my pursuit of the truth. I wanted to know why people had become so gullible, so weakened by their fears and so easily led by anyone who shouted up about their beliefs. My job was an obsession, one which I wouldn’t be able to let go of easily, and one I relished every day for the way it raised my adrenalin levels and put fire in my belly.

Camille

Eve had been right. Before her passing, she had warned, ‘Camille, now listen my darling. If Seraph turns up to pay her respects, you know she will not arrive unaccompanied. Seraph Maddon goes nowhere unnoticed.’

We tracked her journey from the Dakota that morning and I
had been strangely nervous at the prospect of meeting her. Yes, the woman was inordinately beautiful and looked so much like Eve it was a wonder they were not cloned, but it was her enemies that were making my day difficult. Seraph may have had no notion of the upset she was causing, and yet, it was all quite necessary.

Along with Seraph, a number of
emissaries stepped off the train at York that afternoon. Like us, you barely saw them, unless you were really looking. Lucky for Seraph we were always
really
watching otherwise she might have already been holed up in some interrogation room somewhere. I imagined there was uproar in the enemy camps; they would be mistrustful of Seraph’s presence in the country where it all began. Their fear was no doubt compounded and I knew they might even risk the information she carried being leaked to stop her getting to the source of all that was wrong with this world.

‘This is totally unacceptable,’ I sneered, as one of my team struggled to lock on to her whereabouts.

‘She hasn’t come out of that hotel. I imagine she has switched off. With sophisticated hardware like hers, it would not seem impossible for her to disappear off grid.’

I was experiencing a new emotion that day – a fear of my own. With Eve gone, I knew I was now entirely responsible for this hothead reporter who
represented so much and also had the power to save or destroy this fragile existence of ours. Even beneath ground, I felt no sense of safety. In our control room below the shop, we watched the world and often saw how easily Officium might swoop devastation down upon it. We worked so carefully that everyday was exhausting as we hid and evaded their detection. 

‘Tap into the hotel survei
llance. Now,’ I demanded.

How I hated myself for letting my cool slip.

My intelligence officer did as he was told and before I could snap again, he brought up an image of Seraph laid on the bed of her hotel room, crying. I watched for a few minutes. That was a vision: Seraph Maddon, crying. Curled up in fetal position, broken and despairing.

Good, we need not break her down. Eve has done that already.

‘Enough,’ I swiped my hand out, and the image disappeared. I paced the floor and took a deep breath. The funeral was soon but had been pre-planned by Eve, the consummate organizer. She never cost anybody anything, always giving, never taking.

‘Keep your eyes on Hardy. We need him too, don’t forget. If the menace does anything rash, take him down and keep him mute,’ I scowled, stuttering as emotion hit me.
How will I cope without her
? My team stared as if they wanted to reach out but I snapped, ‘Just… lock it down… you know what I mean,’ I impatiently demanded.

I traipsed
back upstairs once more to roam the shop and show my face. As long as the enemy knew I was in the vicinity, they would think twice before entering our zone of operations. Unless Seraph returned and then, they had something to fear.

I sank
into the chair behind my desk and was given pause to recall the easiest kill I ever made. He was easy to overcome and it was justified in every manner.

Past

I had only two hours to deal with my target. I had arranged it so that he would come to me. It was imperative I got in, and got out. I couldn’t risk my identity. As far as the authorities knew, I wasn’t even in the country, so being caught would spell certain catastrophe for not only me – but the cause too.

I dressed casually, my
hair pulled back into a tight bun, so I might look just like any other library frequenter – except for the black ballet pumps laced firmly around my ankles – easier to perform in. No-one would presume I was one of the deadliest creatures on the planet.

A
t the end of a long, wide, wooden desk, I read Balzac quietly, with a polystyrene cup containing my espresso to hand. Even though I could barely see my surroundings, I resisted the temptation to switch on one of the desk lamps, knowing the dim lighting would allow more of the element of surprise. That part of the New York Public Library, the rare books section – with its crowded shelves but few visitors – was deserted save for me.

Like clockwork, he appeared. Smart navy-striped suit, possibly Saville Row. Grey hair, broad shoulders, bulky physique.
His physical disadvantage was apparent; he had a limp that meant he would be useless as an emissary. Those who were not qualified for the role either accepted a life of servitude in one of the factories – or resorted to other ways in which they might serve Officium – such as that man stood before me. This tailor had chosen to use his struggling menswear shop in downtown Manhattan as a cover – for information gathering. One of his clients had been Hamish Maddon, the nephew of our leader.

There were three desks between mine
and the one he had chosen to sit at. I had to bide my time, however, and give him a few moments to work up a sweat over whether his contact would turn up.

A part of me perhaps pitied him. His body had let him down and that meant a life of
respectable mediocrity unless he could rectify that physical disadvantage. There was no way he could – childhood illness had robbed him of the things he might have had.

Officium had no time or pity for those who could not carry out their deeds in the way that they wished.
Maybe this target of mine could have become a politician or lawman behind a desk, but his intelligence was obviously quite low. After all he had fallen for my plan, hadn’t he? Without question, he was there that day in that library, so sure he was to meet one of Officium – someone sent to promote him to the next level and give him the next task that might see him raised further up the ranks.

Pity was vanquished as I
realized something. Yes, my body had never let me down but then I had only gotten here through strength of mind and that would never lead me into their ranks. I would never betray a confederate to gain supremacy in the arms of those evil bastards. He had sold Hamish a suit and had been given a chance to become one of the resistance – in return he had used that offer of friendship to rat out two of New York’s most prominent UNITY members.

I knew my moment to pounce
. So I stood with a book in hand and went towards him, smiling sweetly as I asked, ‘Excuse me, but do you have the time? I can’t seem to find a single clock in this place.’

‘Of course,’ lookin
g down at his watch, he said, ‘it’s a quarter to two.’

‘Thanks so m
uch, that’s very kind of you.’

While I remained standing, he searched my face questioningly. Perhaps he did not believe I was a threat. I guess maybe the polo neck I wore that day hid the fierce force I held back unless it was necessary to execute.

‘I hear the police are making headway into finally getting hold of the person responsible for the Maddon killings. You know, the heart surgeons? Apparently their loss will now mean at least four dozen people will have to wait six months longer for bypasses.’

He looked up at my
face, shock spreading across his. He stood nervously and was unsteady on his feet. He looked into my eyes and struggled to gauge what was behind them. I stood with hardly any expression whatsoever. That might have scared him more than anything.

‘Who are you?’ he asked.
             

‘I’m a friend of the
Operator
. You might have heard of her?’

‘Her?’ His eyes peeled wide.

He wanted to bolt out of the place then, clearly.

‘Yes, it was a grave shame about the Maddons. Their daughter is without both her parents now. Imagine that, a young woman without her mum and dad. Being without one would certainly be bad enough, but without both…’

I stood casually but my words almost shocked the life out of him and he started to move away from behind the desk to make his escape. I imagined the last thing he saw was the book I held as it suddenly fell. He was drawn by its flight towards the floor.

I was known for my
incredible velocity and felt sure he barely registered me leap up onto the desk he had moved away from. I sent a foot crashing into his chest to ensure he had taken his last breath. Then there was nothing. His mass fell to the floor and I walked towards the exit to the stairwell, escaping into a waiting car outside that took me back to the airport. Job done. Easiest I ever accomplished.

Back at the shop, my th
oughts again turned to Seraph. As night crept across the world outside, I hoped she would sleep and not try to make a nuisance of herself, otherwise I wouldn’t be sleeping either that night, not that I ever really rested anyway.

I sometimes wished Eve had not made me accustomed to having company. Loneliness was easier, before, but after her it was intolerable. So when one of my team disturbed my reverie, I could hardly say no to a small distract
ion to my malaise.

Petra
shut my office door behind her and locked it. I pulled the curtains closed and walked towards her, ripping off her shirt before she had chance to touch me. My latest conquest was not unlike many others. Soon she would declare her love and I would have to send her packing to another city, to another surveillance team.

In that moment, however, she was a body to momentarily lose myself in. She was always thankful, always pliant, always quiet. We fell down together and made love under my desk.

I spent hours crying
before being swallowed by a tormented, fitful sleep full of indistinct shapes and nightmares. Anxieties crowded me ‒ work missed, time wasted, regrets spinning out of control. Images of people gone still filled my thoughts; all of them terrorized me with bloodshot eyes and frozen glares. In sleep opponents lined the streets in wait and a specter crept behind me at every turn. Guilt and regret ‒ the two things that wrecked me every day.

When I rose to
a new day, it was already 11am. My body was still on New York time for sure. The previous day seemed a blur; my journey to the UK like a dream in itself.

I had little van
ity but knew I stank, yet feared I would have an audience as I showered. Still, there was no choice, I didn’t want to gas Camille out for a second time. So I stripped and entered the cubicle, enjoying the water as it refreshed my skin. I air dried and cleaned my teeth before pulling on the clothes I always wore ‒ black jeans and top.

As I headed back to the bridal shop, t
he sky was tinged grey, but it was mild, as it always was. I took a moment to survey the city Eve had lived in for so many years. Just outside the Mercy Inn, I climbed up a small incline to step onto a few bricks, presumably some remains of the Roman wall. Having to steady myself as the loose pile I stood on threatened to crumble beneath me, I looked down on the inhabitants with my hands dug deep in the pockets of my leather jacket.

I
felt so sure there was something I was missing. I saw the poor inhabitants, and yet Eve’s business had remained amid the crumbling, industrialized surroundings. I couldn’t understand how a bridal shop, of all businesses, could have thrived so well in not only this ruined city, but in these times of few marriages.
I think Camille might be able tell me…
So I leapt down and began walking through the empty streets toward the Shambles.

I pulled my hands through my
loose mane to shake it out, thinking it such a luxury to be able to do so. I loved my hair but it wasn’t practical for my job, and was tied back most of the time.

I
hit a pocket of inhabitants on Parliament Street and couldn’t help but notice every single one of them seemed to be glaring in my direction. I didn’t dare make any kind of facial gesture in return, but they smiled nonetheless. I continued onwards and as they separated to allow me passage through, I indulged myself thinking they were probably startled by my extraordinary appearance. However, as I passed the crowds of admirers, I spotted two figures standing behind them who seemed out of place. There was a man and a woman both dressed similarly in blue jeans, black military jackets and shirts. They both had blank, expressionless faces, and looked as if they could handle themselves, with thick necks and solid stances. The inhabitants continued to swarm around me as I neared Eve’s shop and the two figures followed behind the masses in the direction I moved. I reached the front door of the shop after swiftly turning off Market Street, while the crowds and the two shadowy figures dispersed almost immediately.

Reeling from the encounter, I
had many questions to fire at Camille.

I entered the shop but
was halted by her immediate welcome, ‘Seraph, so nice to see you again! I was just going to have some tea, would you care to join me?’

Why the fuck would I want some tea
?

However,
I was knocked off course, smiling and nodding at the Frenchwoman’s beguiling friendliness. I followed Camille into an office behind the reception desk and sat at a small, wooden table positioned against a net-curtained window looking out onto the Shambles. The office was bland in comparison to the rest of the shop, with rows of filing systems, numerous sketch pads and fabric swatches, all piled high on a large heavy desk pushed up against the wall at the other end of the room.

I dared to peer
out from behind the curtains when Camille immediately stood out of her chair to roughly grab my arm, replacing the drapes quickly. I was not only shocked by the contact, but by the suddenness and almost reptilian response Camille exhibited. We assessed each other as if preparing for a contest of some sort before I yanked my arm out of her solid grip.

‘Camille, what the fuck is
goin’ on?’ I paced the floor and pointed outside, ‘I was just out there and everyone was creating a barricade between me and a couple of shady character
s
stood in the distance.’

She tried to brush it off with whimsical gesticulation.
‘I apologize for being so brusque, but you can never be too careful sometimes. You of all people should know that.’

I seated myself and removed my shoulder bag and jacket, though I
refused to sit forward at the table, as if doing so would condone Camille’s treatment of me.

‘
Cut the bull, will you? I knew there was somethin’ about you Camille, the moment we met, I could tell there was more.’

I lifted my foot and rested it on my
other knee, sitting bolt upright to impose my frame on the woman sat opposite.

Camille stood with her arms folded and asked seriously
, ‘Where did you see those people?’

‘
They followed me from Parliament Street and seemed to disappear into thin air as soon as I arrived here.’

Eve’s manager held
a hand to her mouth in contemplation, the other hand propping up the elbow of that arm.

‘They know you’re here…’

‘Emissaries?’

Camille nodded.

‘Then, they’re cocky. They never dare touch me in New York.’

‘You’re at the source, Seraph
. They’re nervous.’

I stood and
took Camille by the shoulders, demanding, ‘Tell me everything. I need to know exactly what we’re dealing with here.’

She seated herself
at the table and motioned for me to rejoin her. Camille looked troubled and seemed to be fighting an internal battle, scratching her head and shaking her hair from side to side, also muttering something under her breath in French.

‘Camille!’ I
shot the woman an exasperated glance.

‘Okay Seraph…
but Eve would not have been happy about you finding out like this.’

Camille’s c
ontorted features spoke volumes and everything I knew was wrong about York – was somehow connected. Shock flooded my body and I struggled for words in response.

‘Wha
t the fuck…?’ I needed her to spell it out.

She didn’t say a thing. I had been such an idiot. Yet I couldn’t accept the truth. ‘
You’re the
Principal
…? The assassin. The Frenchwoman? How dumb was I for not realizing?’

‘Yes, and my job was to protect another… one greater.’

Time stood still while I tried to deny the truth that had been right under my nose the whole time…

‘No Camille, no, it can’t be.
No, I won’t believe it. She isn’t… wasn’t… I never took it seriously…’

I stood and turned my
back on the other woman in the room, holding my head in my hands. My mouth was bone dry.

‘Seraph, she would have done anything to protect you, including holding back the truth.’

‘I can’t handle this Camille. She can’t have been…’

‘Yes. Yes she was… she was
the
Operator
.’

On that last word, Camille’s French dialect strengthened.

I fell to my knees and clenched my fists. I could not stop the fury building inside myself. It all suddenly made sense. Mom and Dad died for the cause. Eve was the enigmatic head of UNITY and Camille her no.1, the elusive and deadly
Principal
. No wonder this place seemed so odd. It had been locked down for my visit. How strange all three of us were so closely related.

What I felt was an overwhelming sense of denial and disbelief. It broke my heart that this had been her life. Had she ever known love? Or was her existence simply one of work, survival and evading the enemy? They could take me, kill me and cut me up into little pieces for all I cared, but not Eve. Not her.

‘No, she of all people can’t have been involved. No. I cannot believe this. I will not accept she was this other person. If only I’d known!’

Camille guarded herself though I sensed she was
preparing for a barrage of questions.

‘Did the
y damn well kill her, Camille? Tell me that. So help me, goddam tell me,’ I screamed.

‘No. No. No. Natural causes. No. Natural,’ she said gently, attempting to reach out to me.

She was a deadly assassin and yet, with my mind all at odds, I was the deadlier in my state. I wanted blood and retribution. How could they take her from me too? Even if they hadn’t killed her directly, they had still robbed her of the life she should have had. I wanted to do unspeakable things right in that moment.

‘She was an old lady, how could it have fallen on her, of all people? How could she have wanted this? How could she h
ave? I don’t understand!’

I stood and kicked
the wall out of frustration, cracking the plaster. I wanted to tear down that whole fucking building bit by bit. I pulled my hair in anguish, twisting at it from the roots. Then I had a rush of blood to the head. I could see no other course of action.

Camille

I waited to see what Seraph would do next, but hardly had time to react as the door of the office was flung open and the headstrong American strode out of the room towards the front door. Quickly, I grabbed a small electron-pulse stun gun from a drawer in my desk and ran out after her.

As I reached the front door, I
looked from side to side to see which direction Seraph had run off. Flaming locks billowed out from behind a black figure chasing down the bottom of the street, so I started running too. The gun in the back of my jeans, I sprinted with everything I had. I had no weight, my legs were air and my arms scissors. I barely breathed as I shifted into a mode of clear purpose.

I soon caught up and
grabbed the back of her jeans to hinder her progress. Seraph fell with a jolt, falling flat on her back on the cobbled, empty lane. I knelt down and saw her mad with fury.

‘My girl, you don’t know what they are capable of. This is why we kept things from you.’

‘I’m not some little girl Camille, I just want the truth.’

There was no more time for discussion because suddenly we
weren’t alone on the street. Emissaries emerged from Swinegate. Seraph wanted to leap into action but I swung my weapon out from behind me and tucked it into the front of my jeans instead.

‘Stay here,
’ I whispered.

Seraph nodded
in understanding and remained on the ground while I wandered in the direction of the two emissaries. I assessed what I was up against and saw they were just primers, low-level stock Officium didn’t mind dispensing with. Easy. These automatons were pumped with soul-draining, filthy chemicals, devoid of the life force that flowed through my body and rendered me unstoppable.