He paged through the proposal to that particular section. “And you are only agreeing to bring such items into the realm, not to export them without governmental authorization?”
“It's stated as such on page 56.”
He turned to that page and suddenly looked up. “Who is Danielle Bellami?”
I smiled at her as she stood and moved forward. “M. President, I'd like to introduce you to Danielle Bellami, a highly respected Mediterran citizen and owner of Art Fantastique.”
“Building bridges right from the beginning. I think your organization just may bring about the change you’re hoping for.” The President picked up a pen and signed the proposal in its entirety. “I wish you luck, M. Maddock, you and Guy Bensen. And you as well, Mme. Bellami.”
The meeting had been a complete success – far better than we had dared to hope.
After the room cleared, I put my arms around Danielle and smiled at her. I leaned down until our foreheads touched. “How shall we celebrate?”
-Guy-
Can I Borrow the Car?
On Monday, Keira knocked on my front door just as I pocketed my transceiver and keys. She wore red exercise pants and a light jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her forehead glistened with sweat. She flopped down on my sofa and grinned.
“I thought about all you've said, and I'm in.”
“Now's not really a good time. Can you come back tonight?”
“This is important. I have business to discuss with you, but it shouldn't take long.” She eyed my business suit. “How in the world did you find time to work undercover as Mrs. Ramsey's gardener and still make an appearance at your father's firm?”
“I have a somewhat flexible schedule. Are you certain this can't wait until evening?”
“Elaine Ramsey knows my real name, and she closed my bank account.”
“Don't say another word.” I pulled my transceiver from my pocket and placed a call to work, then turned so Keira wouldn't be in range of the vidscreen.
The image of Ellie, my secretary, appeared on the screen. “Mr. Burke, how may I help you?”
“If you would, please let the others know I'll be arriving late. They should begin the board meeting without me.”
Ellie lowered her voice. “That’s probably not the best idea. Your father is beginning to notice your absences.”
I looked at Keira as I replied, “You know what’s at stake. Do your best to cover for me. I'll be in as soon as possible.”
I shut off the transceiver and gave Keira my full attention. “You're certain about Ramsey?”
“She called me by my real name and told me to keep in touch. She said she may need my services in the future, and my bank account was definitely closed. Security was even called when I asked for more details.”
“Has Elaine learned anything about the Resistance? Does she know Oren Johnson isn't really dead?”
She shook her head. “I don't think so. I think it's just me and Scott by default, but...”
“What is it?”
“Well, Scott already has to take orders from her because he's military...he said I can trust you.”
“And you can.”
She studied me for a minute, clearly worried. “I've been thinking about this all weekend, from every angle. I’ve been trying to figure out why. And I think Elaine Ramsey is tying up loose ends. We both know she hired me, and probably Rose, to get her money back, but I don't think she ever had any intention of paying either of us.”
“What exactly are you saying, Keira?”
“The clerk wouldn't tell me who closed my account, but I think it's too much of a coincidence. Elaine Ramsey must have closed it. She’s the only one I can think of who has both the power and a motive to do that. I also suspect that she ordered a hit and run on Rose.”
She paused and carefully monitored my expression. It was difficult, but I kept my gaze steady and gave no reaction. I wanted to hear it all.
Keira took a breath and continued, “Rose was a somebody, and she knew too much, so Ramsey had to remove her. Because Rose was Elite, Ramsey had to make certain that it looked like an accident. But Rick...I'm a nobody, plus she knows my real identity, so rather than kill me, she’s sending a clear message that she's going to control me. I’m worried that closing my account is just the beginning.”
“You're not a nobody. Do you need some money?”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “I earn my own money.”
Independent, Scott had said. He wasn't joking. “I can order false documentation if you need a new identity,” I offered.
“No.” She waved her hand. “I have connections for that too.”
“Then how can I help?”
“I'd like to borrow your car and driver next Thursday.”
I sat down next to her. “Why?”
“Mrs. Ramsey is throwing a dinner party at her Galt estate next Thursday. I need to be there.”
“To do what exactly?”
“The party is my way in. I'll get the money back. Hopefully the amount you stole plus enough to make up for my closed account.”
“So it's just about the money?” I didn't believe she'd stop there, not when her cover had been compromised.
“I'll stick around,” she confessed, “and after the party...that's when I'll do it.”
I shook my head. “I think we should put someone else on the job, someone she won't suspect. We have people who are skilled at breaking and entering. They can get the money and send a strong warning.”
I realized I was beginning to care for Keira, as Scott's sister and as an ally. And I wanted to protect her. Oh, I knew she could take care of herself, but killing takes its toll. I was beginning to worry about how Keira’s choices would affect her, how they would impact who she would become.
“She'll suspect me no matter who you send in. I have to do this, or she'll own me. She knows too much, and she'll use that information to make me do whatever she wants. Anyway, you shouldn’t risk someone else for me.”
I sat quietly and tried to think of an alternative Keira might accept. “Let me send in Eberhardt as backup.”
“No, I'll need him to drive, but I work alone. This is what I do. This is who I am. If you want me to work for your cause, don't ask me to change who I am.”
I sighed. I couldn't change her mind this time, but maybe I could still help. “Be careful around her butler and chauffeur. They're trained bodyguards. The safe is in the master bedroom behind a Degas. The code is...”
“Behind a day-what?”
“Ballet dancers, painted by the artist Degas.”
Keira stared at me blankly.
“You're not familiar with Edgar Degas?”
She shook her head. “What type of dancers?”
“Weren't you paying attention in school? What did you learn in your art classes?”
Keira gave me a strange look. “Working Class kids aren't allowed to take art or music classes past the third level, not unless they've already demonstrated talent.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“A friend of mine continued on as a painter, but that doesn't happen very often. I know nothing about art, and all I know about music I learned from my mother.”
Even with as much as I'd learned since I'd met Scott, it was clear there were still gaps. I wondered if Keira would be willing to talk with me some more about her past, but now wasn't the time to ask.
“I'll take you to the theater and to a museum,” I offered, “if you'd like. For now, I suggest that you take a moment to appreciate the painting before you remove it from the wall. I believe the one Mrs. Ramsey owns is an original.”
“How do you know so much about her Galt residence? I thought you worked at her estate here in town.”
“I was hired to landscape new garden arrangements at both, and I took some time to look around when she was out. I'll send Eberhardt over to pick
you up next Thursday.” I handed Keira a slip of paper on which I'd written down the code to the safe. “Here. There’s a good chance she hasn’t changed it since I didn’t actually take anything from that estate. I wish you'd reconsider taking backup. I know someone who is skilled at breaking into high tech security. He would be invaluable if the code has been changed.”
She reached for the piece of paper and our fingers touched. “Thank you, but I'll be fine on my own.”
-Keira-
Ramsey's Dinner Party
Thursday finally arrived. I dressed as part of the catering staff, wearing the traditional short black skirt over black nylons and a pressed short-sleeved light blue shirt. I tucked my hair up under a blond wig. Although I didn't think she'd look too closely at the catering staff, I didn't want Mrs. Ramsey or her butler to recognize me while I was at the party.
As agreed, Eberhardt drove me to the town of Galt. Along the way, he described the layout of the mansion – more information, courtesy of Rick. The most difficult challenge would be climbing the main staircase in the front hall unnoticed. Eberhardt dropped me off a few blocks away from the estate.
As I walked along the main drive, I spotted Ramsey's chauffeur. I didn't slow my pace, and he didn't pay any attention to me as I walked around to the servants' entrance in back. I entered the kitchen and picked up a tray of hors d'oeuvres before anyone had the chance to notice that I didn't belong. As I walked through the kitchen toward the party, I palmed a paring knife and slipped it into a pocket of my skirt. I was ever watchful for Elaine Ramsey and her butler.
Some guests had already arrived. They chatted, drank and danced in the ballroom. Many wore military uniforms. Others had the look of Gov officials and other Elite.
I carried a platter of stuffed mushrooms as I made my way through the festive crowd. A few of the men patted my behind with one hand while choosing a mushroom with the other. I imagined Rick would say it was yet another way to keep the Divide strong – a way to degrade the Working Class and keep us in our place.
I noticed the main staircase through an ornate arched doorway and began to meander in that direction but stopped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Startled, I turned. A man in uniform stared at me. His eyes were the exact same shade as mine, a perfect reflection of my own.
“Scott, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“I'm attending a party. You?”
“I'm working.”
“Oh, no you don't.”
“She didn't hold up her end of the bargain,” I whispered.
“Keira,” Scott said quietly, shaking his head. “I can't let you do this.”
“Yes, you can, Scott. If you knew the whole truth, you'd let me.”
Scott pulled me into a side room. No one noticed or cared. At parties like this, it was not uncommon for guests to sneak off with the help. Scott turned on a small lamp, leaned against the desk and folded his arms across his chest. I set down the tray and looked around. We were in a small library.
“You have five minutes. Convince me.”
“Elaine Ramsey is not to be trusted,” I began.
“Few are. Continue.”
“She knows my real name. She knows we're related. You could be in danger too.”
“I'm always in danger. Is that why you wanted to see me? Because of what she knows?”
I nodded.
“She's too influential, and you have other options. You should be avoiding her. You know how to disappear. It's time to take your losses with this one.”
“No, that's not how it works. I can’t disappear forever, and with the information she has, I'll have to do whatever she tells me to. And by threatening my safety, she'll control you too. I can't allow that!”
“You know better than that. She already controls me, to some degree. She’s as close to the head-of-command any corporate leader can be.”
“Wait, there's more. I'm sure you've been wondering how Rick and I met. Elaine Ramsey ordered a hit on him, only she didn't know him by that name.” Now I had Scott's attention. “She hired me through you to kill one of your friends. Doesn't that bother you? Then she double-crossed me. That bothers me. Fortunately for all of us, things went wrong. I also called the other day because I wanted to talk with you about the Resistance but not here.”
“No,” he agreed, “not here and not tonight. Rick told you?”
I nodded again. “A little.”
“Does Elaine know anything about that?”
“I don't think so, but Scott, Elaine Ramsey also murdered Rose Brackaby.”
“Rose Brackaby died in a car accident.”
“A planned accident.”
Scott was pacing now, clearly agitated. “Are you sure about all of this?”
“Absolutely,” I lied.
“What's your plan?”
“To take her out, of course. She knows too much.”
“Wait. Rick authorized that?”
“Authorized? Not exactly, but he knows I'm here.”
“Just one minute.” Scott pulled out his transceiver and placed a call. I noticed that he kept the vidscreen turned off and didn’t use any names or mention specific places. Rick was likely doing the same on the other end. All Scott said was, “I'm here. What can you tell me about tonight?” He listened intently. “All right.” He disconnected and looked at me. “Get back to work. I'll distract Ramsey.”
“No Scott, I don't want you to get involved. I never wanted you to get involved in this.” I shook my head sadly.
“Keira, I was already involved. Now do as I say.”
I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a kiss on the cheek just as another guest entered with a pretty girl. Scott hurried back to the party, and I slipped down a side corridor. The front hall was mostly deserted, except for the butler who was relaxing in a chair now that most of the guests had arrived. My talk with Scott had taken too long. I waited patiently for a distraction. Soon enough, one of the kitchen staff brought over a plate of food. While they were talking, I began to climb the stairs with my head down. This wasn't the best opportunity, but unless another guest arrived, it was probably the best I would get.
“Hey!” I heard a voice call. Just then the doorbell rang. Damn, I should have waited, but how was I to know someone would arrive so late? I practically ran up the rest of the stairs, quickly located Elaine Ramsey's bedroom and turned on a small flashlight.
I'd modified this skirt with pockets in which to carry the tools of my trade. In addition to the flashlight and the knife I'd taken from the kitchen, I carried a thin black cloth bag and my black leather gloves. I pulled on the gloves.
Sorry, no time to enjoy the painting. With one quick glance, I decided that ballet costumes were whimsical but impractical. I wondered if this ballet type of dancing was meant to tell a fairy tale. I hadn't had much use for fairy tales in my life. I tossed the painting onto the bed and saw the door of the wall safe. This was a much more advanced model than I was used to. As quickly as possible, I entered the code. The safe didn't open. I punched the “clear” button and tried again. I didn't hear anyone yet, but I was certain the butler wouldn't be distracted for long. This time, the safe opened. I emptied the contents into my bag and turned off the flashlight.
As I crouched down, I pocketed the flashlight and pulled out the knife. Would I be able to take out the butler without the element of surprise on my side?
Quiet as a whisper, I moved toward the open bedroom door, slid behind it and set down the bag. A large shape moved into view and turned on the light. His gun was already drawn. He immediately saw the painting on the bed and the open wall safe and pushed against the door to ensure that no one was hiding behind it. I pushed back as hard as I could.
As the door slammed into the butler, I dropped down with as much force as I could muster and stabbed the knife through his foot. He stumbled. A grimace of pain crossed his face. Quickly, he regai
ned his balance and pointed the gun directly at me.
I stood slowly, with my hands out to my sides, my gaze locked with his. I took a step backward.
“Stop!” he ordered. Just then I saw another shadow move behind him in the hall. I dove to the side. A muffled shot sounded, and the butler fell.
“Scott?” I called out. No, it was Eberhardt who reached out and helped me up. “Nice gloves,” I said. They looked just like mine.
“Why did you call for Scott?” he asked.
“Not now. I should have known you wouldn't wait in the car.”
“You're welcome. Let's go!”
“I haven't finished the job.”
“And you won't tonight. With him dead, it's too hot. We need to get out now.”
I sighed and then removed my gloves and shoved them into my pocket. I followed Eberhardt to the front staircase. Fortunately, luck was on our side, for the moment. No one was in the front hall, and no one seemed to have noticed that the butler was missing, yet.
Eberhardt pocketed his gloves and his gun. He pointed toward himself and then to the front door. Then he pointed at me and in the direction of the servants' entrance. I nodded. Eberhardt must have entered as a guest. I watched as he confidently strode into the night. Then I took a smaller side corridor to the servants’ entrance and successfully bypassed the busy kitchen.
During the drive home, I had time to mull over the events of the evening. Rick shouldn't have sent in Eberhardt after I had specifically told him not to, but if he hadn't, I had to admit that I probably would have been captured or worse.
I silently studied Eberhardt.
After a few minutes, he turned in irritation. “What?”
“Thank you.”
“It's what I do.” He returned his attention to the road.
“Thank you just the same.”
He glanced at me again. “Backup is a good thing, you know.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“I guess.”
“Where did you learn how?”
“How to what?”
“Let's see.” I began to tick off items on my fingers. “How to infiltrate. How to take out a trained bodyguard without flinching. How to be backup.”