The Athena Factor

  “First you tell me how you found me.”

  “You scared the shit out of Tomaso when you made him drive you to the airport. I think it was the disguise that weirded him out. He called and said you were up to something dangerous, that Felix was involved.”

  “Felix?” She lifted a hand to her threat

  “Yeah. By the way, despite his tough-guy image, it turns out that he’s a real wimp when it comes to pain. And last, but not least, you should clear the redial on your phone.”

  She considered what he’d said—not just the words, but the tone in his voice. She hated the flat control, as if he were keeping a careful rein. When she looked hard into his eyes, she could see it brewing there: fear mixing with growing desperation.

  Her chest tightened when he said, “Now it’s my turn. What are you doing here? Why are you playing Jennifer Weaver games with Genesis Athena? What if they see through your brown hair and eyes? Why are you taking silly chances and putting yourself at risk?”

  “I’m going right to their heart.” She swallowed hard. “And when I get there, I’m going to tear it out.”

  “Holy shit,” Sid whispered from Lymon’s other side.

  “Can you get out of it?” Lymon asked tersely. “Stop this nonsense before you get hurt?”

  “Of course. I’m going to back out at the last minute. I’m going to say I just can’t do it. That I’m not ready. I’ll apologize in a most pathetic manner and maybe cry a little. I’ll offer them a big enough settlement to make it all right, and then when I get back to LA Felix is going to file suit. We’re going to blow this thing wide open. And Christal’s going to be part of the settlement.”

  “Assuming they don’t find out about it,” Sid muttered. “If Nancy Hartlee is any indication, these guys play for keeps.”

  Lymon shot his friend a nervous glance. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Sheela demanded, more threads of fear winding through her. “Damn it, Sid, are you here investigating for the FBI?”

  “Well … yes and no.” He made a wry face. “Actually, more no than yes. I’m just as far out on the wobbly limb as you are, Ms. Marks.”

  “Where the hell are we going?” Lymon asked. “Where’s this boat taking us?”

  “To a ship,” she told them, gesturing forward. “Somewhere out there in the ocean.”

  “And what happens once we get there?”

  “Jennifer Weaver will supposedly have Genesis Athena impregnate her with a Sheela Marks baby. I mean, I’m obviously not going through with the procedure, but don’t you see? It’s the proof we need to sue the shit out of these bastards. And that’s where they do it. Out at sea on a ship.”

  “Damn it, Sheela! What if they figure out who you are? I know Felix did the background work and set this up, but so many things could go wrong! We’re talking about real bad shit here.”

  “They’ll never know, Lymon.” She gave him a nervous smile, trying to mask the fact that she was more scared than she had ever been. “I know this role. I can do it in my sleep. I mean, who’s to tell them? You and Sid surely won’t say anything. Just play the part. Be yourselves. Big, tough, security guys.”

  “You’re sure they’ll let you walk out?” Sid asked skeptically. He looked like a man with a bad feeling stuck sideways in his gut.

  “Why wouldn’t they?” Sheela shrugged. “To them I’m a psychologically disturbed rich girl living on a bloated trust fund. At the last minute, I break down, change my mind, and say I won’t do it. Trust me, it’s in Jennifer’s character. As long as they get paid, why would they care?”

  “If they don’t, if it goes bad,” Lymon warned softly, “you be sure we’re close. You understand?”

  Sheela nodded, the thudding of fear beating at the base of her throat. That look of desperation in his eyes kept eroding more and more of her courage. “It’ll be fine, Lymon. Trust me.”

  “A ship,” Sid muttered. “An oceangoing laboratory where they do genetic procedures.” He paused suddenly, stiffening. “You know, Nancy Hartlee was found floating right out here, somewhere.”

  “You mentioned her before. Who’s Nancy Hartlee?” Sheela asked, a hollow feeling in her gut.

  “One of Sid’s missing geneticists.” Lymon’s worried eyes sent a tremor through her. “No one could figure out how she’d drowned so far offshore.”

  “It’s all starting to make sense.” Sid balled a fist, back hunched as if the muscles were taut. “Fuck!”

  “Double fuck,” Sheela said glumly.

  “Yeah,” Lymon agreed. “Times three.”

  44

  Hank had just finished a workout on the weight machine in the E Deck fitness center. He stepped out of the locker room showers, reaching for one of the towels that rested on the rack. He buried his face in the soft terry and rubbed it dry. It was when he started on his head that he realized he wasn’t alone. April stood brazenly, arms crossed, head cocked, right in the middle of the men’s locker room.

  “Uh, you supposed to be here?”

  She laughed, reading his sudden discomfort. “Why, I’m surprised at you.” She stepped forward, using her fingertip to wipe up a droplet of water from his left nipple. He followed it as she raised it to her mouth and touched it to the tip of her tongue.

  “Hey, sweetheart, it’s not me. What if some other guy was in here? You might make him blush.”

  When her eyes met his it was with a feral curiosity. “And you don’t blush?”

  He pulled her to him, heedless of her expensive pantsuit, and kissed her hard. He could feel the strength in her body as she stiffened and arched against him. In the end he let her push back. She gave him that fiery look, and his soul began to swell. Damn, she was saucy when she was mad.

  She broke away and stepped back, looking down. Her natty pantsuit was dampened over the breasts, belly, and thighs. “You bastard!”

  Hank chuckled and continued toweling himself off. He made sure she was watching as he spread his thighs and rolled the towel around his heat-distended genitals. “Hey, April, you come walking into the men’s locker room, you take dangerous chances. Shit happens. Especially when male hormones have been loosened up in the gym.”

  She flipped her metal-red hair back and studied him through narrowed eyes. “So, you had a good workout?”

  He tossed the towel into the hamper and walked to where his clothes were laid out across a bench. “I worry myself.”

  “No wonder.” She was staring down at the wet spots. “Keep pulling shit like this … I’ll kill you.”

  “April, I haven’t felt this good in years.” He turned to look at her as he stepped into his briefs and let the elastic snap around his waist. “I feel alive in a way that I never have. I’m doing something for the first time in my life.”

  “And what is that?” She reached for another of the towels, patting it on her breasts and belly to dry the stain.

  “I’m working for me.” He ran his arms into his shirt. “Better, I’m working for a team I can believe in. I mean, this isn’t the Bureau. This is real. Results count, not political bullshit, I’m rested, I haven’t spent the night worrying about a house payment, or what I’d done to piss fucking Marsha off, or whether I was in or out at the office.”

  April balled her towel and flung it at the hamper. “Pull your pants on. I want you to see something.”

  He zipped his jeans and tugged on his running shoes. When he stood, she was giving him that probing look. What was this shit? Was she about to pass judgment on him again? Part of his euphoria evaporated.

  “I hate it when you start staring at me like that.”

  “I want your opinion on something.”

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m being set up?”

  She grinned at him, stepping close and lancing a long fingernail under his chin; a predatory curiosity lay behind the expanded pupils in her gray eyes. “I can’t say for certain, but my guess is that you’ll like it.”

  He trapp
ed her finger, pulled it up to his lips, and kissed the tip as he traded gaze for gaze. “Lead forth.”

  He followed as she led the way to the door and pushed it open. She took his arm, pulling it around her shoulder. “I’ve booked the movie room for us. First off, there’s something I want you to see. Second, it’ll give my clothes time to dry out, and third, it will give me time to decide if I still want to slap the shit out of you.”

  He grinned where she couldn’t see it.

  “Sexy movie? You know, males are visually stimulated.”

  In a dry voice she said, “No shit? Bam! Revelation! After all these years I finally understand why men go completely brainless when they see my tits. Until now I thought it was just some bizarre form of innate stupidity.”

  She stopped at the movie room door and let him push it open. Hank stepped inside, surprised to find Neal Gray in one of the seats.

  Neal looked up, nodding. “Hey, Hank.”

  “What’s up, Neal?”

  “More of the same. We’re still trying to gauge damage control on the Anaya thing.” He glanced at April, eyes fixing on her damp breasts. “What happened to you?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  “It would never cross my mind.” He waved at the screen. “We’ll fast-forward through the meaningless parts. Have a seat, guys.”

  Hank settled himself into one of the comfortable chairs. April couldn’t be too pissed at him, because she slid in beside him. The lights dimmed, and the big screen that filled one wall illuminated as cameras followed April and a woman that Hank immediately recognized as Christal into what appeared to be a small but elegant locker room.

  “This was taken this morning,” Neal said. “It’s part of a film the marketing team will be using for our ‘Zea’ series.”

  “Huh?” Hank asked, watching as April’s screen voice said, “If you’ll remove your clothes and open that locker on the right, you’ll see that we’ve taken the liberty of supplying you with a wardrobe. I think the size is right.”

  Neal replied, “Zea is a series of females we’ll be producing from Anaya’s DNA. Now, obviously, we’re not going to call them the ‘Christal’ series. If she chooses to settle, we’d rather not have her coming back asking for royalty in the future.”

  Hank watched the on-screen April say, “I’m going for a swim.” Christal watched skeptically as April slipped off her shoes and began undressing. “Like I said, we’ve got an hour. Use it anyway you’d like. Me, I’m taking it in the pool.”

  Hank glanced at April. “You told her no cameras.”

  “She’ll never know. The Sheik arrived this morning. He wanted a chance to look over his investment. What you can’t see is that the shower room has a one-way mirrored wall through which this was filmed. The same with the pool. Underwater cameras are hidden behind the lights. It’s quite a sophisticated system. Top-of-the-line technology.”

  They watched Christal stare suspiciously around the room, sometimes peering straight into the camera. She checked the locker, hesitated, then reluctantly undressed. Hank swallowed hard, watching her as she padded to the door to stare longingly at the shower where April washed.

  “We kept her in pretty Spartan quarters,” April said. “She was ready for the opportunity.”

  The view changed as Christal stepped into the shower room, glancing in surprise at the camera. “She’s just discovered the mirrored wall,” April added with amusement. “Marketing is going to love that expression of wonder and awe. It gives her a sense of excitement, don’t you think?”

  Hank shifted as the camera closed on Christal’s body. He might have screwed her, but he’d never seen her naked before. It was like Christmas—April and Christal, side by side for comparison: April, a little more full-breasted, pale with a dancer’s supple body, beside long-limbed Christal, darker, brown, muscular, and lithe.

  April and Neal laughed when April stepped out and Christal immediately scurried out to try the locker room door. “Now,” Neal added, “tell me that wasn’t expected?”

  When Christal finally took the plunge, the camera angles changed again, following her as she crossed the poolside at a run and dove. Immediately, the underwater lenses picked her up, her perfect body lancing into the frame in a rush of white bubbles.

  Hank fought the urge to shift again as the camera zoomed in on Christal’s body, then backed away as April slipped past with eel-like grace. He could feel April’s curious glance, and tried to keep his expression nonchalant.

  “This is what we want your opinion on,” Neal said.

  The cameras changed, focusing on Christal’s face as April discussed the relative merits of Genesis Athena.

  “Watch her,” April added. “Study her closely, and tell me what you think.”

  Christal listened to April’s comparison between the US government and Genesis Athena.

  April leaned to ask, “What do you think? Is she buying it?”

  “It’s irritating her. You can see it in her mouth.”

  “Watch this,” April indicated the screen as Christal declared: “There’s nothing I can do about what the government does with my tax dollars.”

  “Bullshit.” April shot back “You’ve just made that particular deal with the Devil, Christal. You’re comfortable with it.”

  Hank leaned forward, watching Christal’s familiar expression. The clarity of the picture was awesome. He could see her pupils, the faintest of tension at the corners of her mouth. He saw the reaction. “There! You got to her when you brought up the government funding of bad guys.” A moment later, he saw her expression turn thoughtful again, when April told her that it would be cheaper to deep-six her, but that they wouldn’t. “She’s chewing on that.”

  He watched as Christal, oblivious now, climbed up out of the pool. Her face was pensive as she walked along the poolside to the showers. Damn, she was one fine-looking woman.

  “Marketing is going to like this part,” Neal added. “You can see her natural grace, here. She’s vulnerable, but looking intelligent.”

  The scene shifted to the shower room. Hank watched as the women showered, the discussion continuing.

  He started when April reached over on-screen and touched the wall. “What the … ?”

  Beside him, she laughed in amusement. “It’s a big blow dryer. I’ll take you sometime. You wouldn’t believe how stimulating it is.”

  I believe! He couldn’t help gaping like an idiot as Christal’s skin moved as if massaged. It did the most marvelous things with her breasts and belly. The air pressure gave her face an exotic look, sharpening her cheeks, black hair rippling out in a wave. Her narrowed eyes added to the effect, like something from an animator’s pen. When it stopped, he was rigid in his seat, hands clasped on the armrests.

  “This is the important part,” Neal said. Was that a tremor in his voice? Damn, the man would have to be made of wood not to have been affected.

  Hank managed to breathe again as he watched Christal and April dressing.

  “Here!” Neal called as April asked what it would take.

  Christal took a moment to consider. “Five million.”

  April’s laugh was mocking. “Not a chance.”

  With an evaluative stare, Christal asked, “So, what’s your counteroffer?”

  “Two hundred thousand.”

  The camera was centered on Christal’s expression when she said, “What makes you think I wouldn’t take it and spill my guts later anyway?”

  On-screen, April told her, “Because we’re a business, Anaya. You have a basic understanding of our capabilities, resources, and resolve. I think you know that we’ll use them if we have to. We’ll keep our end of the bargain only as long as you keep yours.”

  After a thoughtful hesitation, Christal said, “I’ll think about it.”

  The screen went blank and the lights came up. Neal turned in his chair. “You know her, Hank. What do you think? Will she buy it, or do we go with the Jamaica option?”

  Images of Christal’s
body undulating in the wind stream dominated his thoughts. Shit! “I don’t know.”

  “Want to see it again?” April asked slyly, her gaze half-lidded and knowing.

  See it again? Hell, he’d be dreaming that vision for the rest of his life! Hank shook his head, answering, “Actually, yeah. She’ll go for it if it’s handled right.” Knowing full well she wouldn’t. He frowned. What in hell had prompted him to say that?

  “Paybacks are a bitch,” Neal quipped. “And Gregor has made sure she’ll never forget.”

  “Come on,” April said, standing and reaching down to pull him to his feet. “I need to go to my cabin. Some hairy ape spoiled my outfit.”

  He stood, hoping his knees weren’t wobbly. April’s lips curled, reading his weakness. The excitement in her hooded gray eyes added to the stirring in his loins. It was shaping up to be an exciting afternoon.

  The ZoeGen looked huge as the launch motored into the ship’s lee and the engines reversed. The only thing on the empty ocean, it might have been its own continent. Lymon glanced up, watching a platform and ladder lower from a hatch that opened in the great ship’s side.

  Dear God, I hope this was a good idea. Setting foot aboard that ship went against every instinct. He reached down for the handles on his locked plastic case.

  Sheela looked pale despite her makeup and brown wig. She gave him an uncertain smile, as if the reality of what she had plunged them into was dropping home like an anvil.

  “This is going to be interesting,” Sid muttered. He’d been on the verge of seasickness for most of the trip.

  The launch rose and fell, rubbing on fenders as it came to rest beside the lowered landing. While the huge bulk of the ship blocked the prevailing wind and the swells, it still appeared dubious to Sid.

  “If you’ll each just wait until the surfaces match,” one of the deckhands said, “we’ll have you step right across.”

  Lymon met Sheela’s wide-eyed stare with an encouraging smile. “Want to go back now?”

  She shook her head too fast. “See it through.”

  “It’s your call.”