Operation Heartbreaker (11 page)

“Why don’t we talk about it,” Julie suggested in friendly manner, “and find out how we can get rid of the problem.”

“She is the problem!”

“He is the problem!” Ally and Jean exclaimed at once again.

“Ooookay.” Julie picked up the receiver and ordered a pot of extra strong Arabica and a Latte for Ally.

When the coffee was delivered they still weren’t an inch further. Though Jean had calmed down, he was thoroughly convinced that Ally was sabotaging him on purpose.

“All I’m asking for is to make contact with Cole,” Jean said and threw his hands in the air.

“Cole my ass! What you want is that stupid list!” Ally had stood up and was pacing the lounge.

“You’re goddamn right about that!” he cursed and threw his fist against the wood paneled wall.

“Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!” Julie uttered, sipping from her cup. “Guys! Not an ounce of self-restraint.”

“What do you want with it anyway?” Ally asked. “Blackmail is a size too big for you.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of!” He ran his hand through his messy hair.

“Right,” Ally commented, “because I don’t know you. Nonetheless, you’re asking me to trust you blindly and give you something that my life probably depends on.”

“Wrong,” he interrupted her, “whoever has the list is as good as dead.”

Her thoughts automatically wandered to Viktor’s father. “Then why do you want it?”

“I have to take care of something. And I can only do it with that damn list.”

So, extortion after all. She let out a disgusted grunt and sat down next to her friend.

Julie placed the Latte in her hand and filled a cup of coffee for Jean. “So, what do you think we should do?” Julie asked, offering him a seat.

Jean ignored it and kept pacing. “Arrange a meeting, that’s all I need.”

“But we’ve done that already,” Julie replied joyfully.

Ally looked at her in disbelief, but Julie was gently pushing her knee against hers, so she shut her mouth. What was she up to now?

“And when were you going tell me about it?”

“After the coffee?” she asked, sweetly.

“Hmpf!” he uttered and dropped down into the armchair on the opposite side.

“When’s the meeting?”

Julie looked at her watch. “In half an hour.”

“What?” He was back on his feet again. “Where?”

“At the Ritz. We had agreed to meet there at the reception around twelve.”

Ally’s brain was racing while the gears interlocked one by one. Hotel Ritz, twelve o’clock–something was ringing a bell.

And then it hit her.
Catch(h)er90
, her fan aka stalker who’d been looking for ways to meet her for weeks. After her last karate training she’d given him a prank-date. It was supposed to be a joke, kind of. Neither she nor Julie believed he’d show up for real.

But it meant today was Valentine’s Day. If he was there or a no-show didn’t really matter. The point was to get rid of Jean, who wasn’t the type one could easily distract. The little trip would buy them time and there was always something going on in a hotel, right? How hard could it be to disappear? At the airport it worked, too. If they weren’t able to shake Jean off, they could still claim that Cole must have noticed them not being alone and that’s why he stayed away. What could Jean do about it?

If they just sat around, they only risked Jean’s father getting involved. The last thing they needed was more attention. There was also the risk of his father sending them back to the States, and she wasn’t ready for that.

So far she hadn’t achieved anything but following other peoples leftovers. Crumbs that were laid out to track down her father. The situation should have been frightening if it wasn’t for the stuff about the
Special Skills
. During the last two days she’d found out more about her defect than in the last ten years. A flaw that had left a mark on her life so far, but was supposed to be a gift. A special talent, that is.

Since having landed here, this gift was changing. She still couldn’t get used to this word. Her entire life had been under the curse of feeling absolutely everything. Since she’d stopped taking her medication these emotions seemed easier to control, a surprising fact to be honest. Shouldn’t they rather get more out of control? But they didn’t. The more time passed the more she perceived the energy surrounding her like something shapeable, something she could take and influence. Or reject and block out. She’d noticed that fact especially around Viktor, whose presence felt like a mental spa. Why did he of all people have such a calming effect on her? That was another point that made her wonder. As strange as it was, she came out of this meeting feeling stronger. Maybe that’s why it was hard for her to refer to him as the bad guy, Jean was trying to picture him.

She didn’t have the opportunity to chew it over since Jean was pushing them to leave.

Ally didn’t intend to come back after the Ritz episode. If they managed to shake Jean off they had to move, that much was certain. Julie seemed to come to the same conclusion. She packed the notebook, tablet, and folders, everything they couldn’t leave behind, into her shoulder bag. On their way to the elevators Julie winked at her.

She certainly was enjoying this.

10

On the way to her fictitious date they were silent. Jean had ordered a taxi which was moving painfully slow through the Sunday getaway traffic. Luckily, the distance between the two hotels were only two miles, otherwise there probably would have been steam rising from Jean’s nose. He was so pissed about the tight timing that he’d accidentally knocked the coffee pot off the table–with his mind! While Julie had been fascinated, it had given Ally the creeps. What if he hurt somebody next time?

When they turned onto the Place Verdôme, she practically jumped out of the taxi. Though she got along better with the energies by now, Jean’s anger penned in a tight space affected her.

As soon as they had set foot into the lobby of the Grand Hotel, Julie excused herself and disappeared in the direction of the bar. Hopefully she was just looking for the ladies’ room and wasn’t up to anything stupid for a change.

It was obvious that the hotel was old. High ceilings, long corridors, arches as well as columns characterized the entrance area. To their right a marble staircase with cast-iron handrails lead up to the first floor. Left of the landing was an elevator that looked as if it had seen better days. The faded colors reminded her of the Seventies. Though the blue rugs looked clean they smelled musty, just like the upholstered furniture that was lining the main entrance. The hotel might have been legendary, but it was also in need of a renovation.

For a luxury hotel there were a surprising number of people in the lobby. Tourists were studying display cases in the atrium, near the reception business men in gray pinstripes were talking, and children ran all over the place in cute outfits. Everybody was romping around, from the clichéd wives in fur coats to backpackers. Ally took in the scenery, carefully keeping up her guard.

She steered towards a seating area to concentrate on her protection. Though the crowd would help them disappear, it was 

an emotional crowd Ally was exposed to, giving off signals with every breath.

As soon as she sat down, Julie joined them.

She was beaming and her cheeks were glowing. Shoot, she was up to something.

“You’ll never believe who I’ve just spotted,” she said cheerfully. Ally shrugged. She didn’t know anybody in Paris, who could she possibly run into?”

“Our Giovanni!”

“Who?”

“You know, Andrea Broccoli.”

Jean grunted. “Nobody’s called such a name.”

“Well, he is,” Julie replied grinning.

“Did he see you?” Ally whispered.

“Of course not. I’m not an idiot.”

“What were you doing, anyway?”

Julie was waving a newspaper. “I got this one off one of the old farts at the bar.”

O no, please not. Ally anticipated what was to come next.

“You won’t believe my horoscope today.”

“Probably not,” Ally uttered. According to the mantelpiece clock it was shortly before twelve. If
catch(h)er90
really turned up, it was time for him to check in at the reception.

Jean seemed to come to the same conclusion. He pushed up the left sleeve of his parka and looked at his watch.

“It says, I’ll be doing something crazy today. Isn’t that exciting?”

That’s exactly what she didn’t need.

“And what did they write about me?”

Julie beamed. So far, Ally had never been interested in astrology, much less in predictions.

Her friend lifted the paper. “Today is the day to make important decisions. But be careful, you have a tendency to make rash ones. Choose wisely, it could change your life.”

Figures. Julie would do something crazy, while she was supposed to be careful. So far the day could only get better.

On the other hand, she didn’t believe in this crap that was concocted by bored interns during their lunch breaks.

“Wow, that is so…”

That’s when she saw him. Not her fan, but Andrea, and shortly thereafter his buddy from the airport. He was leaning over to the receptionist to ask her something when his friend spotted them.

Showtime.

Ally jumped up and pointed her index finger towards the Broccoli guy. “That’s him!”

Jean reacted immediately, and so did Ally. She rushed forward like a bat from hell and kicked Andrea’s pal against his wrist. He dropped the drawn gun he’d been hiding underneath his leather jacket. Ally wished Mr. Mallone could see her now. It had been a perfect Mawashi-geri, a half-circular kick. The gun landed with a thud in front of an elderly lady in a mink, who let out a shriek. In the hallway a radio device creaked.

“L ‘accès!”
Seizure!

Then hell broke loose.

Heavily armed policemen in combat gear and helmets were streaming into the open lobby from all sides. Where the heck were they coming from all of the sudden?

People started screaming, children crying, dogs barking while officers of the Special Forces teams were yelling orders:

“Vers le ba! Vers le bas! Sur le terrain!”
Down! On the ground!

Monsieur Broccoli and his companion were rudely thrown onto the stale rug. That’s when the fire alarm went off. The ceiling sprinklers awakened to live and flooded the lobby within seconds.

On the way to the exit, Ally frantically looked for Julie who had disappeared into thin air. The very next moment she ran into a man, who grabbed her by the wrist to stabilize her. He was wearing dark cargo pants, a gray turtleneck sweater and a black waxed jacket.

When their eyes met is was as if time literally stopped and enclosed them in a bubble.

The screaming died down, all noise melted into a cumulated background murmur until there was only him and her. Nobody pushed them or ran into them. It almost seemed as if they were the only people.

He was a head taller than her, had tanned skin and deep creases on his forehead. His short black hair was streaked with gray and stuck out like palisades. His grip was firm, but not rough, the expression in his eyes serious. A heartbeat later, they became soft.

While her mind was lagging behind, her heart recognized him at once. It was his eyes she’d inherited. Their color were a mixture of sun and sea.

“Dad?” she whispered. The emerging tears were mixing with the sprinkler water and formed salty streams down her cheeks.

He pulled her towards him. “Go home, kiddo, I’ll be taking care of this,” he whispered into her hair. He kissed her forehead and vanished a second later just as fast as he’d appeared.

Suddenly, the noise crashed over her like a wave. Screams, cries, yelling and the shrill squealing of sirens made her crouch down in pain.

Someone grabbed her again and pulled her towards the main exit.

David.

~ * ~

Outside, they found Julie, who was close to a panic attack. “Ally!” she cried when she saw her friend.

“Why don’t you scream a little louder?” David cursed. Julie threw her hand over her mouth. “Mr. Reynolds, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, Julie Watson. Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

Julie stared at him, her mouth dropped open, but it seemed he didn’t expect an answer. He skillfully routed the girls through the utter turmoil in front of the Ritz like he’d done this a hundred times before. Patrol cars of the French Special Forces unit
GIGN
shared the plaza outside the hotel with fire engines and ambulances. They were stopped twice by officers in combat gear. Both times David pulled out his Badge and they were allowed to pass.

At some point they sat in the backseat of a limousine, driving through the City of Love that was becoming more and more the City of Horrors. When they parked in front of a villa, she’d completely lost track of time. She couldn’t tell if they’d been travelling for two minutes or two hours. She walked into the house like a zombie and let them push her into a cushion without resistance.

When Julie took her hand and squeezed it lightly, she came around as if waking from a dream.

They found themselves in front of a crackling fireplace inside a study. Havana styled lounge chairs were arranged in front of a massive Mahogany desk. Due to the wood paneled walls and the dark parquet the room came across rather masculine. Matching was the smell of smoke and leather. The only thing missing was a billiard table.

The door to the hallway was open, and Ally could make out muffled voices. Shortly after, a woman dressed in black appeared with a bowl of cookies and two steaming cups on a tray. Hot chocolate, yum!

As soon as she had left, David and a man came in, who closed the door.

David cleared his throat.

“Alienor, I guess it’d be better if your friend waited in the next…”

“No way!” Ally replied heartily. “I’d tell her everything afterwards anyway. Besides, without her help I wouldn’t have come this far.”

Julie lifted her hand. “Uh, that’s right. And I decrypted the…”

Ally punched her in the ribs. The last thing David needed to know was that they’d snatched his notebook from the secret room and had taken it apart. “Drop your hand, we’re not at school,” Ally muttered starring at her friend.

Julie seemed to notice her mistake and shut her mouth.

Luckily, David hadn’t really listened. “So, then. Alienor, Julie, this is Maurice Lacroix,” he began. “Maurice, my nice Ally and her friend, Julie,” he turned towards the man.

Confused, Ally looked from one to the other. “You’re Jean’s father?” He didn’t look one bit like him. Steely blue eyes were examining her from underneath bushy, black eyebrows. He also wasn’t wiry as Jean, but built like a hydrant, chunky and muscular. His keen eye rested on her. “How do you know my son?”

Now she was really confused. “Uh…wasn’t it him who guided you to the hotel?”

“Why do you think that?”

“Well, because he was there with us. Didn’t you see him?”

“Jean was at the Ritz?” he started up.

“Where else? I thought you were working together or something like that.” That was the only way she could explain the whole operation. Where else did all those men come from if it hadn’t been a trap? Unless… “Did you trace us?”

Maurice nodded. “After David’s call you were monitored.”

He walked over to the desk and studied a framed photograph. After a moment he grabbed it and handed it to Ally. A fourteen year old version of Jean was smiling at her. He was at the beach and seemed to come straight from surfing. He was wearing an open neoprene suit that he’d taken off all the way to his waist. Julie, who was still sitting next to her, made a noise that sounded suspiciously like drooling.

Ally ignored her and handed the picture back to Maurice. “That’s him.”

He cursed quietly. “He should be at the boarding school in Chartres.”

“If you’ve been doing surveillance on me, why didn’t you recognize him?”

“I was in the patrol car, coordinating the operation. Only a handful of my staff knows him, and I don’t pass around a photo of my boy just on spec.”

“Jean said you also have a gift,” she changed the topic. Time to get down to business.

“His biological father had one.”

She inquiringly narrowed her brows.

“His parents were murdered like almost all the SK participants. My wife and I adopted him when he was two.”

Her eyes wandered to David, who’d stayed in the background so far. Now he sat down next to her searching her eyes.

“I have a bunch of questions,” she said before he could preempt her.

“I can imagine.”

She took a deep breath.

“Who is my father and what exactly did they do to him? Who are
they
anyway? And what happened to my mother…?”

“One by one,” David interrupted her.

“And who the heck are you?” She leaned back into her seat and crossed her arms in front of her.

“I’m a friend of your father,” he started and poured himself a brandy.

“Are you close?”

“Like brothers.”

That would explain the uncle.

“Your dad and I grew up together. We went to the same high school, played in the same football team and liked the same girls.”

Yuck! No details, please.

“After graduation our ways separated and we stayed less and less in contact until we finally cut it off completely.”

“Why?”

“I guess that both of us wanted to fulfill the expectations of our parents. Well, at least I did. Cole did exactly the opposite of what his father wanted him to do.”

David got up. “Your grandfather had envisioned an academic career for him. He could have become a doctor, too, but everything else was off-limits. His old man made it clear that he wouldn’t have paid for it.” He sipped his brandy, then put the glass down on the mantel of the fireplace and looked into the flames.

“While I went to university and earned my degree, Cole went to the army.”

“He was a soldier?”

“He became part of an elite. He wouldn’t have settled for less. When he was eighteen, he signed up for the
Navy Seals
and entered their training program that is considered one of the hardest in the world. Of hundreds of applicants at most fifteen pull through. The rest doesn’t make it through the back-breaking acceptance tests.”

“I’ve heard of
Hell Week
,” Julie piped up.

“The Hell Week is just one of ten weeks training under sleep deprivation. The applicants have to put out one hundred fifty percent performance under physical pain for two and a half months. During the five days of Hell Week the recruits get four hours of sleep while being challenged around the clock, not allowed to make any mistakes.”

“And what for?” Ally asked.

“To sort the wheat from the chaff. Only applicants with an iron will can make it. During this time you have to conquer yourself–rise above yourself.” He turned around and looked her in the eyes. “Cole once told me that he left behind his worst fears during that time. Those weeks changed his life. Nobody who suffered through that stays the same.”

Wow.

“The
Navy Seals
are the elite of the special forces. But even with them there are differences, so they are again screened with further training sessions. After extensive testing they found out that Cole possesses a special gift, and assigned him to a certain anti-terror division.

When his unit was ambushed in Afghanistan and the team members got separated, he found each and every one of them and got them out. Afterwards he couldn’t tell how he’d known where his mates hid. He simply knew, and that’s how he got involved.”

The stuff Ally found out next sounded like it belonged to a movie plot. Through his rescue operation her father had been noticed by a CIA scout, who’d been scrutinizing the Seals for test subjects for a secret program.

For decades the US government had been searching for a way to create the perfect soldier. With the help of neuro-pharmaceuticals and genetic manipulation they wanted to make humans tougher, faster and more resistant. The whole thing came across like science fiction and was as least as questionable.

While Ally was shuddering inside, Julie was glued to David’s lips. Jean’s father had made himself comfortable behind the desk and kept refilling David’s glass.

It seemed this program hadn’t been limited to soldiers or US citizen. The government had been looking all over the world for highly gifted people with special qualities. In the end, twenty test persons were admitted into the CIA program they called
Special Skills
.

In the beginning the experiment was a complete success. After some initial difficulties, the test subjects showed the desired results, so after three years their numbers were more than doubled. In order to cover the huge amounts of money the project swallowed, other governments with similar enemies were brought in, with England, France and Israel leading the way.

Later, more countries joined in, in some cases even industrialists, who needed small private armies for particular missions.

In the end, the CIA owned a worldwide supreme elite team, which it would probably have multiplied, when a trifle occurred, something nobody expected this late in the game.

Side effects began to show.

The more time passed the more aggressive the
Special Skills
warriors became. After four years, the first refusals to obey orders happened. It culminated during a mission when members started slaughtering each other. Neither injections nor invasive surgery were able to put an end to this behavior. The artificially altered genes mutated and became something new they couldn’t control.

Eventually, half of the remaining members deserted and went into hiding. For some going underground wasn’t an option because they had families.

Since the CIA had no intention of letting its investment go, they sent the remaining loyal members after them as leaders of four
Navy Seals
teams.

It was a disaster, a slaughter beyond words. Thankfully, David spared them the bloody details. To sum it up, it all lead to Cole showing up at David’s doorstep out of the blue, delivering his daughter. Of all elite soldiers only three had survived, Cole was one of them.

Because they were told that after being genetically altered, they couldn’t father any children, they hadn’t paid much attention to birth control. But that had been an error–one of many. So far, they knew of three offspring but suspected there were more.

“But why are they after me?” Ally interjected.

“Studies have shown that the kids of the test persons not only inherit the skills. They magnify them, and what’s more, without the side effects. That’s the perfect soldiers they were looking for so long. The entire program had been aimed to that. That’s why the CIA considers the children their property.”

How charming.

“Somehow I still don’t get why the CIA is after me. I mean, only because I’m an expert in finding lost keys I’m far from being James Bond.”

“The CIA has enough James Bonds.” Jean’s father got up behind the desk. “What they need are people with extraordinary abilities.”

“And that’s where you come in,” David added. “Your gift goes far beyond detecting lost items. Your abilities can make you track down people based on a photo or personal item. Do you have any idea what that means?”

Well, yeah. Thanks to her defect the CIA could use her as a human hound dog finding terrorist leaders even in the last honky-tonk anywhere in the world.

But that was rubbish. Okay, she’d found her uncle a few times, most recently even across further distances. But strangers?

“That’s by far not all,” David continued. “You can emphasize with the feelings of your fellow humans in a way that borderlines telepathy.”

Telepathy on an emotional level? She opened her mouth to object, when she remembered what had happened at the airport.

Not only had she known what this guy had intended to do. She’d been able to see where he’d wanted to drag them, had felt his intentions. Was that some kind of telepathy?

When she looked at her uncle she noticed he and Maurice were observing her.

“Due to his skills,” David continued, “your father can tell if somebody is lying.”

A walking lie detector, how convenient. As if he’d read her thoughts, David nodded. “You wouldn’t believe the range of information he can filter based on the sound of a voice alone. That makes him into a valuable instrument for any government. He doesn’t even have to come eye to eye to the person, to recognize the truthfulness of an information from a recording or over the phone.”

Ally sunk deeper into the couch. This was getting better and better.

“Albeit,” Maurice threw in, “the voice can be manipulated that way.”

That’s awesome, but what did it have to do with her? She wasn’t like her dad. She had problems separating other people’s energy from her own, though sooner or later she’d get it under control. And the whole detection of people-thing was bollocks, her uncle was totally off. She was only able to do that with him and, well, with Julie. And just because she had known them, like, forever.