Awakening, 2nd edition (46 page)

She sat down on the bed, feeling completely drained. Yes, most definitely, all the men in this house have gone crazy. All of them.

Ross was getting cold. It hadn’t been smart to rush outside without a jacket. Not smart at all. But Alex had said , “In a minute in the backyard.” And when Alex tells you something , you better be prompt. What does he need this time? Everything has been taken care of already. The voting is tomorrow and with Michael out of the way , it ’s a no -brainer . There ’s simply no one else. And Alex will become our boss.

Well, maybe it’s not such a bad deal after all. Of course there ’s always the option of staying at the current company —but why? He ’s frightening, but he would be able to recognize devotion. Yes, devotion . There ’s nothing bad about that word. You want something more politically correct, something softer? No problem. How about loyalty ? True loyalty is such a rarity nowadays. And real devotion is nowhere to be found. Everyone thinks about himself, counts his own money and is concerned only with grabbing a slice of the pie. True loyalty is a thing of the past. “Our people are businessmen .” That line from The Godfather says it all.

And yet, it’s the loyal folks who pull it off at the end of the day . Not the sly foxes and bootlickers. If you ’ve got no loyal people you ’ve got nothing. They are the core of every team and every company. If you ’re a general , you ’d better have at least a couple of truly loyal lieutenants —those who will sell you their souls and follow you no matter where you ’re going. Come hell or high water, they are your people. And a true leader would always know how to recognize devotion. Otherwise , who ’d be loyal to him? As for all that rudeness . . . all that arm twisting . . . it ’s not really necessary. “
Shanghai Bells ”
. . . we could work together without things like that .

We could’ve simply discussed the matter back then. I would not have refused help ing such a man. I would not have walked away from a chance to support him. Granted, I could ’ve had some doubts, especially back then, before we knew the truth, but still . . . a discussion would ’ve worked just fine. You take one look at him and you already know this man has a big future. And then you realize that you ’re better off following such a man instead of trying—completely hopelessly—to compete with him. It ’s always critical to recognize the right man to follow. The sooner you do that , the better off you are.

And all these Roberts and Stellas who are so full of themselves will realize who's the boss around here . Even Michael will get it. Eh . . . n o, this one won ’t. This one is different. This one— oh, who cares? Whether he gets it or not , who cares? If he doesn ’t get it quick enough, we ’ll fire him. Yep, just like that. Alex will simply show him the door and that pompous ass will be out for good. Next time he ’ll know better than to pry into people ’s heads. That snob thinks he ’s a shrink —what a nerve!
He ’s a good candidate for the Shanghai Bells . Well, who knows —perhaps Alex will show it to him one day. There ’
re other people around here who ’d benefit from getting that demo , too. And that smartass Alan is the first one in line. For all I care, he could get some Beijing Whistles as a bonus. He ’s became too much of a loudmouth.

Is he coming? It ’s getting really cold . . . Perhaps it ’s time to sneak back in and get a jacket. Really, it ’d be just a minute. It ’d be— No. Cold or not, it ’d be smarter to wait here. If he ’s late, he ’ll have a good reason for it . He really knows what he ’s doing. By the way, he still needs to hear the story about this morning ’s interrogation in the middle of the lake. And , by golly, it ’s a good story to tell. It feels good to know that , despite all the pressure , no information has been leaked. Not even a hint.

It was rather tempting, but there was enough willpower and smarts left to pretend to be stunned and appalled by Michael ’s suggesti ons instead of opening up and whining about the beating. This is what they call real devotion. When you do something not for personal gain. When you do something because you know that he ’ll need it. One day. You know that you ’re doing it for him and that ’s quite fulfilling. He, of course, would appreciate it. Too many people around here are just waiting for the right moment to strike, to backstab him. So he ’ll appreciate an act of pure loyalty. Silence is sometimes worth more than the most eloquent words. He ’ll appreciate—“You cold?”

Here. He gets everything instantly. How did he manage to come close so silen tly? He showed up from nowhere.

“I’m fine, don ’t worry.”

“Sorry I ’m late. Got delayed.”

“Don’t mentio n it.”

“I had to talk to someone. Something urgent has come up.”

He doesn’t trust me yet. It ’s a shame. He should know that he can really trust me. That ’s something to work on. Anyway, his tone is different now. Much warmer than usual.

“Let’s go for a walk. Too many ears around here.”

“Where do you want to go? It ’s really dark out there.”

“Anywhere. I just want to make sure it ’s safe for us to talk. What —you don ’t feel like it?”

“No. Sure. Let ’s walk. I ’m all up for an evening walk. Really. Oh, listen, there ’s something I ’ve got to tell you.”

“Hold that thought. You ’ll tell me in a minute.”

The edge of the gloomily quiet forest closed in slowly. The trunks of the trees darkened like silent sentinels. Ross shivered in the chilling air. It ’s good that Alex is nearby, at least it is—A short powerful blow knocked him down to the ground. Something unbearably heavy fell on him. And the familiar whisper appeared from nowhere and started eating into his shrieking mind .
That whisper.

“So, you have a big mouth, huh . . .”

And pain. Tearing apart, bone—piercing pain. Just like back in that room—but much stronger. Everything now is just like back in that room. Including the iron palm tightly sealing the hysterical mouth. And through pain, through the measured cold whisper, words are coming in. Words already heard somewhere, pronounced by someone, pronounced a thousand years ago : “You think that as long as you obey his orders, he won ’t touch you? Think again. He ’ll touch you and it won ’t be a gentle touch . . .”

“So you like talking to your friends . . .”

And over, and over, and over again—pain. The whole world around you is filled with pain. There ’s nothing but pain. Nothing is left but pain. Gone are the earth, the skies, the air, even you are gone—only pain is left. No, not only pain. There ’s also the whisper. The whisper and fear. Fear of the endless indefinite pain. Why is he not letting me even scream? Why is he—And then suddenly the pain was gone. There was the memory of it left, hiding in every cell of the exhausted drained body. There was fear. But the pain was gone. Replacing it appeared two rigid palms. One on the back of the head. The other under the chin.

“Now listen, ” the whisper said indifferently, emerging from the pulsating red darkness. “I just need to move my hands—and you ’re history. Like this . . .”

The palms moved and pain cautiously sneaked into the neck. A different kind of pain. Unlike the first one that had been ripping the flesh fiercely with insatiable greed, the new one was calm and indifferent. And much more dangerous.

“I can do it right this moment. There ’re thirteen suspects here, plus nameless bums roaming in the forest. Cops could spend five years digging the case, and still won ’t find a thing. I ’ll be clean. As for you . . .” the palms increased the pressure, “you ’ll be dead. So this is where we stand, my friend . . . Why did you spill your guts to Michael? Didn ’t I tell you to keep quiet? I even asked nicely.”

And then, despite all the pain and fear, came bewilderment.

“I— I didn’t tell him anything.”

“I’m sure you didn ’t, ” the whisper agreed softly. And the dangerous, mortal palms pressed a bit harder.

“I didn’t tell him!”

“Shut up.”

The palms pressed even stronger. The pain was not contained to the neck anymore—it crawled through the spine, drifted up and down simultaneously in gliding snakelike movements.

“I didn’t tell him anythi-i-i-i-ing!”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” the whisper demanded.

But Ross didn’t care anymore. He had gone beyond the limit. A muddy stream of sputtering words was pouring out of him.

“I didn’t tell him anything! Nothing, nothing— You do all you want to me, but I told him nothing! You want to kill me, fine, but I didn ’t— you get it? I didn ’t tell him a thing! He kept asking and asking . . . he even threatened me— and he told me all these things, but I still kept quiet— I told him he was nuts, and I told him to get lost— And all that stuff he told me, I said, you ’re full of it, leave me alone, you’re nuts . That ’s what I said to his face— You do all you want, go on and kill me, go and bury me— But I didn ’t tell him! I didn ’t! I didn ’t!”

He was muttering, dripping a medley of words and saliva, sobbing and gulping convulsively, mortally afraid to skip something, to omit that right word, the right fact that would make Alex change his mind . A nd it wasn ’t until some moment s had passed that he realized that the horrible palms were gone, and with them the deadly pain in his spine and the heavy weight on his back. It was all g one.

Instead, feet emerged right before his eyes in the tall wet grass.

“This time I ’m going to let it pass, ” said a quiet voice that took the whisper ’s place. “But from now on you ’d better think twice before you open your mouth. Better still , don ’t talk unless it ’s absolutely necessary. Anything suspicious, any questions, any hints, any suggestions—I expect you to let me know immediately.”

“I was going to tell you, ” sobbed Ross.

“
Immediately , ”
the voice repeated authoritatively. “Not six hours later. Now get yourself cleaned up and wait here. Give it at least fifteen minutes before coming back. Do your best to make sure nobody sees you like that. If you run into anyone, tell them you fell outside while taking a walk. As soon as you ’re back in your room go to bed. Don ’t even think about leaving the room tonight. Tomorrow I need you fresh. And until this thing is over , you’d better not leave my sight unless I tell you to.”

The voice broke off. Then it went away, taking with it , mercifully , pain and heaviness. But it left fear in its wake .

Leaning on the railings, Robert was watching, with a certain degree of amusement , the movements of the plump figure moving downstairs across the lobby. The figure was busy performing mysterious maneuvers. First, a balding head emerged around the door and disappeared momentarily, apparently at the sight of Michael sitting by the fireplace. Next, Michael stood up and left, and a few minutes later , the same head emerged again. This time the surveillance results were satisfactory, and a body appeared , just as timid and watchful as the head. The figure darted swiftly across the hall and , with unexpected briskness , bolted up the stairs. Upon arrival on the second floor , it allowed itself to relax and slowed down to a jogging pace. It was obvious that it didn ’t notice Robert, standing at the opposite site of the balustrade. Another few second s passed before the wandering eyes of the figure stumbled upon Robert.

“Are you all right, Ross?” Robert asked.

“Definitely!” Ross replied cheerfully with a hardly noticeable shudder. “I ’m fine.”

His entire appearance, however , begged to differ. Dark wet spots crawled from his knees up to his waist. His shirt looked just as bad, and on top of that was tucked sloppily into his khakis—a disturbing departure from Ross ’s usual neat appearance. A pinkish spot was present on his left cheek by the chin. His hair was full of dirt and decorated by several blades of dry grass. All of that , however , could ’ve still coexisted with the upbeat , “I ’m fine ” statement —had it not been for Ross ’s eyes.

His eyes had not a trace of cheerfulness or exuberance . Fear lived there. Fear and a silent plea. But a plea for what? That wasn ’t clear.

“What happened?” Robert tried to make it sound as compassionate as possible.

Ross brightened up even further.

“I just fell over . Imagine that! I got so tired of sitting inside all day long, so I figured I ’d go for a walk, get some fresh air. Splendid idea, but I didn ’t make it far, you know. It ’s so wet out there. I slipped like a toddler and—whoa!—went face down. Good thing I managed to fall on my hands, at least partially.”