“That’s why we don’t need any help from your little pet.”
Charles sighed again and shook his head. He leaned his head back against his chair with his eyes closed, and when he looked at her next, she could tell that he was exhausted.
“I will put your concerns forth to the Emperor,” he said. “Ultimately, as with all things, the decision will be his.”
“Of course I’ll abide by whatever he commands,” Vanessa said.
“Very good. If you’ll excuse me, my dear, I have a great many things to do today – most of them tremendously dull, but vital nonetheless.”
“You might want to take a nap first. You look beat.”
Charles gave her a wan smile. “There has been little time for sleep of late, but I assure you, I am fine.”
He stood up and moved toward the door, and Vanessa knew she was being dismissed. She stood as well, stopping next to him at the door.
“Thank you for listening to my concerns,” she said.
Charles smiled at her. “Certainly. You know that whenever you need to speak about such things, my door will be open. In the meantime, I ask only that you trust in your Emperor and in me, and that you give Captain Perrault your full support.”
“I’ll do my best,” Vanessa told him. She stepped out into the hallway.
“Thank you. Good luck on your mission, Vanessa. I am sure it will be a resounding success, and I anticipate your report. Remember: This woman is key. Eliminate her, and the others will fall.”
“We’ll get the job done,” Vanessa said. “In two days, she’ll be a memory.”
“Very good,” Charles said. Vanessa nodded, turned, and began to walk down the tiled hallway. Behind her, after a moment’s pause, she heard the door latch closed.
* * *
The manifest for the private jet said it carried three banking executives, an Internet entrepreneur, and four crew members. No mention was made of the cache of weapons tucked into the rear of the plane. To the outside world, the jet was nothing more than one of the thousands that crisscrossed the globe each day, bringing men and women of wealth and power to their destinations. No one could have guessed that its passengers, in conjunction with its crew, formed an elite death squad that had been training together for years.
“Welcome aboard, Lieutenant,” Janus said as Vanessa stepped onto the plane. “Can I get you a mimosa? Maybe a pre-flight pastry? It’s complimentary.”
Janus was a tall, powerfully built man with long, sun-bleached hair held back in a ponytail and a perpetual three-day stubble on his tanned face. Wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he was stretched out in a wide leather chair, a can of Budweiser in hand, smirking at her.
Vanessa grinned. “You thinking of quitting the Children, Janus? Gonna become a flight attendant?”
“I looked into it. The skirts don’t fit.”
“Shame, with legs like yours.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Beside him the Brazilian, Paulo, laughed. He was short, thin, and wiry, with sensual lips and closely shorn black hair. Devoutly religious, Paulo prayed to his God often. He was not afraid of anything, he had told Vanessa once, because he knew that so long as he walked the righteous path of the Emperor, God would protect him. Vanessa, who put her faith in none but herself and the Children, had merely nodded and changed the subject.
“You see the Captain?” Paulo asked her, and Vanessa nodded.
“She was finishing her breakfast.”
“Blood pudding, right?” Janus asked.
“Belay that shit,” Vanessa growled, watching out the window as Captain Perrault approached the plane.
“Whatever you say, ma’am,” Janus said, and his voice sounded like he was smirking again. Paulo snickered.
“Keep laughing, Oliveira,” Vanessa said, still watching the blonde woman below. “We’ll see if God reaches down and stops her when she decides to tear your arms off, because I’m not getting in the way.”
Paulo went silent. After a moment, he said, “My Lord
Charles sighed again and shook his head. He leaned his head back against his chair with his eyes closed, and when he looked at her next, she could tell that he was exhausted.
“I will put your concerns forth to the Emperor,” he said. “Ultimately, as with all things, the decision will be his.”
“Of course I’ll abide by whatever he commands,” Vanessa said.
“Very good. If you’ll excuse me, my dear, I have a great many things to do today – most of them tremendously dull, but vital nonetheless.”
“You might want to take a nap first. You look beat.”
Charles gave her a wan smile. “There has been little time for sleep of late, but I assure you, I am fine.”
He stood up and moved toward the door, and Vanessa knew she was being dismissed. She stood as well, stopping next to him at the door.
“Thank you for listening to my concerns,” she said.
Charles smiled at her. “Certainly. You know that whenever you need to speak about such things, my door will be open. In the meantime, I ask only that you trust in your Emperor and in me, and that you give Captain Perrault your full support.”
“I’ll do my best,” Vanessa told him. She stepped out into the hallway.
“Thank you. Good luck on your mission, Vanessa. I am sure it will be a resounding success, and I anticipate your report. Remember: This woman is key. Eliminate her, and the others will fall.”
“We’ll get the job done,” Vanessa said. “In two days, she’ll be a memory.”
“Very good,” Charles said. Vanessa nodded, turned, and began to walk down the tiled hallway. Behind her, after a moment’s pause, she heard the door latch closed.
* * *
The manifest for the private jet said it carried three banking executives, an Internet entrepreneur, and four crew members. No mention was made of the cache of weapons tucked into the rear of the plane. To the outside world, the jet was nothing more than one of the thousands that crisscrossed the globe each day, bringing men and women of wealth and power to their destinations. No one could have guessed that its passengers, in conjunction with its crew, formed an elite death squad that had been training together for years.
“Welcome aboard, Lieutenant,” Janus said as Vanessa stepped onto the plane. “Can I get you a mimosa? Maybe a pre-flight pastry? It’s complimentary.”
Janus was a tall, powerfully built man with long, sun-bleached hair held back in a ponytail and a perpetual three-day stubble on his tanned face. Wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he was stretched out in a wide leather chair, a can of Budweiser in hand, smirking at her.
Vanessa grinned. “You thinking of quitting the Children, Janus? Gonna become a flight attendant?”
“I looked into it. The skirts don’t fit.”
“Shame, with legs like yours.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Beside him the Brazilian, Paulo, laughed. He was short, thin, and wiry, with sensual lips and closely shorn black hair. Devoutly religious, Paulo prayed to his God often. He was not afraid of anything, he had told Vanessa once, because he knew that so long as he walked the righteous path of the Emperor, God would protect him. Vanessa, who put her faith in none but herself and the Children, had merely nodded and changed the subject.
“You see the Captain?” Paulo asked her, and Vanessa nodded.
“She was finishing her breakfast.”
“Blood pudding, right?” Janus asked.
“Belay that shit,” Vanessa growled, watching out the window as Captain Perrault approached the plane.
“Whatever you say, ma’am,” Janus said, and his voice sounded like he was smirking again. Paulo snickered.
“Keep laughing, Oliveira,” Vanessa said, still watching the blonde woman below. “We’ll see if God reaches down and stops her when she decides to tear your arms off, because I’m not getting in the way.”
Paulo went silent. After a moment, he said, “My Lord
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