Endgame Novella #2 by James Frey Page A

Mercury in retrograde, they were worthy of Playing the ultimate game? Anyone stupid enough to believe that deserves to perish, as all those lines inevitably will.
    The Nabataeans know better. The game is strategy; life is strategy. The honor of Endgame falls only to those savvy enough to accrue power, ruthless enough to use it. Ekaterina is both, and she has created her son in her own image.
    Maccabee doesn’t know how many strings she had to pull, howmany people she had to blackmail, how many millions she had to spend. What he knows is that he is the result of her life’s dream. He is the reason she sought out a Nabataean man with the body of an Olympian and the brain of an Einstein, bore his child, then disposed of him so he couldn’t interfere. Maccabee is what Ekaterina made him, and he cannot remember a time when he hasn’t shared her dream of the future. He Plays for her as much as he does for his line.
    â€œYou know I would have alerted you to a change in condition.”
    She nods. “Good. The Porter boy’s mother arrived in Zurich this morning and is staying at the Schlosshotel im Altstadt. I need you to gain access to her room and retrieve a thumb drive. She carries it in a bottle of aspirin.”
    â€œMight I ask why?”
    â€œYou know better than that,” she says.
    He does.
    His mother has no official job and never has. The line is, ostensibly, ruled by a council of three, elected every five years. But these are merely figureheads, puppets; those who know anything know that Ekaterina pulls the strings, even though she’s not officially a council member. No one begrudges her, or if they do, they don’t live long enough to act on it—she’s proved she wants only what’s best for the line. She accrues financial and political power for their people, in any way she can, and embedded Maccabee at the Akademie foreseeing exactly this kind of opportunity. Children, she has explained to Maccabee many times, make their parents significantly vulnerable. Most children, at least. Most parents.
    â€œI’ll need you to do it in such a way as to guarantee she doesn’t raise a fuss when she discovers it’s missing,” Ekaterina adds. “That’s essential.”
    â€œDo you have a suggestion?”
    â€œDo what you do best,” she says. “What I raised you to do.”
    They both know what that means.
    He raises his glass. “Consider it done.”
    Here is what everyone knows about Serena Porter, his roommate’s mother: She is the first female CEO of Intellex, the world’s third largest tech company. She’s famous for her efficient management style and ability to turn million-dollar acquisitions into billion-dollar stock surges; she’s infamous for her ability to juggle work and family, the leadership of a Fortune 500 company with the nurturing of a husband and two children. (Personally, Maccabee finds this rather less impressive and substantially less interesting than the billions of dollars in profit.) She’s written two books about her time-management strategies and parenting advice and is about to launch both a magazine and lifestyle reality show about working mothers.
    Here is what Maccabee knows, from prowling through his roommate’s emails and from paying attention: Serena Porter shipped her two kids off to boarding school as soon as they were old enough to read. The daughter is in rehab and the son, Maccabee’s roommate, is a semi-illiterate, fully alcoholic meathead who’s been expelled from schools in four different countries. The husband is having ongoing affairs with both the former nanny and Serena’s current secretary; he and Serena live in separate wings of the Porter estate and see each other only for photo ops.
    Here is what Maccabee can tell about Serena as soon as he spots her across the hotel bar, sipping halfheartedly at her single malt Scotch: She’s lonely.
    This will be a