The Nine Page 22
“Double breasted pinstripes went out in the 1920s. All you’re missing is the fedora.”
“The classics never go out of style.”
“A 67’ Camaro is a classic. You look like a pimp for a geriatric home.”
I shot her a glare in place of a witty comeback. A sure sign I didn’t have one. The awkward silence stretched as we scrutinized the tiny, boring office we waited in. Desk, filing cabinet, drooping ficus in the corner that hadn’t seen a drop of water since the last ice age.
“So, what’s in that fancy briefcase?” I couldn’t take it anymore. If I had to endure one more moment of silence, I would dive out the seven-story window and take the ficus with me.
“I have no idea.” She held the case up and looked it over.
“You didn’t even check it out?” I asked. “It could be anything. A bomb, an envelope full of money, or puppies.”
“Puppies?” She rolled her eyes. “Nothing is ticking—or barking. And it’s locked. I already tried.”
I started to suggest a more aggressive investigative tactic, but I was cut short when the office door opened. A man walked in wearing a bright smile and casual dress, making our monkey suits appear even more out of place.
He seemed to be in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair. Clean, but not slicked back and spit shined like your typical CEO executive. This guy looked like your buddy next door. He had his sleeves rolled up and collar loose, ready to lend a hand to whatever job needed doing. I adjusted my tie again, suddenly feeling suffocated.
“Nicholas Powel.” He reached out to shake our hands, meeting our gaze with infectious enthusiasm.
“I’m Gabe Gantry, and this is my associate, Alexandrea Neveu.”
Alex’s sudden glare made me grin. She hated it when I used her full name.
“Please, call me Alex.”
“Alex, it is.” Nick hurried around to the other side of a desk littered with papers, files, and coffee mugs. “Please forgive my mess. I was here pretty late last night working on some last-minute requests from the DEA.”
I raised an eyebrow. Alex and I had been briefed about some sort of medical tech Nick had in the works, but that’s all we knew. Considering we were sent up to play the part of an advanced, ultra-secure research firm, vague details didn’t feel like enough to sell it. Then again, when you took your marching orders from a lion- headed demon, you didn’t ask too many questions either.
The Nine, a name we locals crafted in an attempt to warm up Hell’s PR problems, wasn’t at the end of any rainbow, but after forty years, I still managed to carve out a cozy armpit to exist in. That was, until Judas Iscariot recruited me into his agency. He was in the business of delivering disasters, death, and destruction to those living Topside. Imagine my surprise when he also informed me that I would be moonlighting as a wrench in the operation. He wanted me to work as a double agent, to find and stop the worst disasters from ever happening.
I couldn’t tell anyone about my gold star position, of course. That would be too easy. I reached into my pocket and fingered the single denarius that bonded me to Judas and his calling. Betray the secret, and it would suck my soul into an abyss that made Hell seem like a preschool with extra finger paints. It made the daily grind a challenge, and not knowing what my grubby little hands were into was never a good start.
“The DEA, they can be real sticklers, can’t they?” My ridiculous ploy to tease out more information drew a sideways glare from Alex. Her eyes practically screamed the adage about ignorance and bliss.
Nick let out a cynical laugh and nodded as he shuffled through his papers and stacked them in messy piles all over his desk. He glanced up at us again, and the manic smile on his face was so big I had to fight taking a step back.
“I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. Everyone will know soon enough.” He straightened and looked around the room as if eavesdroppers hid inside the tiny office somewhere. “They approved our treatments this morning, on a preliminary basis anyway. They are still awaiting the clinical trials from your firm, of course.”
He glanced down at the briefcase Alex held in her hand. She had her hand clutched around the handle, leaning into Nick’s every word. So much for the whole ignorance and bliss thing. She stared at him, her brows knitted in concentration and confusion.
After an awkward pause, she snapped out of it. “Yes. Of course. I’m sorry.” She handed him the case. “I think this should be everything. Why don’t you check while we’re still here?”
I grinned at her, and she shot me a quick glare, all but daring me to say something. I knew she was just as curious.
Nick flopped the case over onto the smallest stack of papers on his desk. After fumbling with the code, the top popped open. With a single hand, Nick retrieved a fat envelope full of paperwork as though it were a priceless Fabergé egg. He turned it over in his hands, his smile never losing an ounce of its feverish delight.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you delivering this data in person. When you’re dealing with something this ground-breaking, security is so important. Allowing any of this to leak onto the internet could be catastrophic.”
“We understand completely.” Alex shot him a rueful smile. “Our firm is all about discretion, and we will always do our best to meet your needs.” She pointed at the case. “We also backed up the data to a portable drive, per your request. Everything was done on isolated servers of cour—"
Alex cut off as Nick pulled something else from the briefcase. An odd-looking little doll about the size of a Christmas tree ornament. It seemed to be made of wrapped twine with old nails stuck in for arms and legs. The weird little thing had a rough face drawn onto its round head, two dots for eyes, and a curved line for a smile. It looked so creepy. I was glad Nick had the mini monster in his hand rather than mine.
“I can’t believe you remembered.” He let out a chuckle.
This time Alex’s eyebrows shot up, but Nick didn’t notice. He already had the phone in his hand, dialing a four-digit extension.
“Ryan, would you mind coming in here for a moment?”
“This is perfect.” Nick caressed the strange, little figure.
Alex stared at him as if she was watching someone chew glass. I almost snorted with laughter.
The door to Nick’s office opened without a knock, and in stepped a young Japanese looking man with short, black hair. A thin beard highlighted his chin, and he wore a red polo shirt with beige slacks. Despite being neat, everything seemed a little off somehow.
“Gabe, Alex, I would like you to meet Ryan. He is the true hero behind everything here.”
Ryan did not move from the doorway. He just stood there, hands clasped, his gaze diverted to the ground, rocking back and forth. He glanced up, never really meeting our eyes, offered a smile, then peered at the floor again.
“Have you seen my glasses?” Ryan squinted without ever looking around. “I can’t find my glasses. I need my glasses to see.”
Nick let out a little chuckle. “I’ll help you find your glasses in a few minutes. Look at what these nice people brought for you.”
Ryan’s eyes shot up to the figure in Nick’s hand, and a grin grew across his face. He walked over, plucked the doll out of Nick’s palm, then stepped back to examine every inch, as if the little doll were the most complex item he had ever seen.
Ryan rushed over to Alex, quick as a cat, pinning her arms to her sides in a hug, then he hurried over to do the same to me. I went to hug him back, but Ryan managed to duck my embrace and scurried back to the door.
“Thank you, both. This is nice. I need to find my glasses.”
Ryan disappeared into the hall, leaving Alex and me to gape at the open doorway in bewilderment.
Nick let us rest in our incomprehension for a moment before he answered the obvious question. “Ryan is autistic. He is also a mathematical savant in the areas of robotics and bioengineering. Out here, he has trouble with the simplest of tasks—like finding his glasse
s.” Nick chuckled. “But put him in a lab, and that young man can work miracles the likes this world has never seen.”
“You have got to be kidding,” I said, then caught myself. “I mean, no disrespect intended, I just ...”
“It’s all right.” Nick chuckled again. “Savants like him sometimes attain an ability to hyper focus on specific things. We’ve been lucky enough to employ him here where he was needed most. Without Ryan, we would have never achieved the feat that will change our world.”
“And what feat is that?” The words escaped my lips before I realized I had asked the question.
Alex shot me another of her trademark glares before turning a smile to Nick. She opened her mouth to cover my blunder, but before she could get anything out, Nick blurted, “Developing the cure for cancer, of course.”
* * *
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NEW DOMINION
About the Author
C.G. Harris is an award winning science-fiction and fantasy author from Colorado who draws inspiration from favorites, Jim Butcher, Richard Kadrey and Brandon Sanderson. For nearly a decade, Harris has escaped the humdrum of the real world by creating fictional characters and made-up realities. When not writing, Harris enjoys sipping scotch while watching the twisted humor of Drunk History. Seeing our past through the bottom of a whisky glass is more entertaining than reading a dusty textbook
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Do you have questions, comments or ideas for future plot lines in the Judas Files series? Contact C.G. at: CGharrisAuthor@gmail.com
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