Chapter 2: Flip and Sizzle
"A nod is as good as a wink."
Somehow she preferred the chirping, frenetic jangle of the Petting Zoo to the angry droning filling the ballroom. To her ears, the animated conversations were hostile- or asinine. Her time was being wasted with this audience who cared only about self-gain and passive inaction to the world's maladies.
It wasn't that she despised primp occasions like this. She could handle conferences, welcomed them actually, because with those, she was with peers, intellectuals, enlightened minds. Tonight, and tomorrow, were thinly veiled show-and-tells wrapped in political bullshit. Only an hour into the evening, she was seriously entertaining reliving a day working under that incompetent ass, Fell, to wasting another nauseating second here.
From her new location in the ballroom, it was not difficult to spot other organization representatives, like herself, who no doubt held the same amount of interest or alliance with Haven than she and Providence did; Valentina of Green Fist, Jenna Marsh from Silent Sanctum, Three Waters CEOs James and John Lyons, people from NOVA, from Fuenta Unidos. Nearly every major faction and organization created after the Event was present in some way, shape, or form tonight. They were all here, involuntarily, to maintain their edge in this unnecessary struggle for dominance; in medicine, in nanotechnology, human rights, animal rights...the list was long.
Perhaps that was why no one entertained her tonight. Providence cast too big a shadow over all of them. Nearly three quarters of any information gathered from the Event onwards were from Providence, and ten percent was from her.
Still, it would be nice to gain some recognition from this crowd. She didn't question their motivation, most of it. Many of the people here tonight had the same as she; family members and friends grotesquely transformed into terrible creatures. It was unfair, unforgiving, and cruel, and they were all of them trying to find justice, closure, and answers.
They would not find them here.
Not from Haven Society. Not mere days after Moses Brandon's elaborate hoax. And yet, even after the disappointment, the world flocked to Simon Sgambelluri, another handsome face and head of a praised organization, giving only his most sincere promise to the desperate world. So despite all the opposing opinions floating in the room, human supremists brushed shoulders with EVO rights activists and bio-weapon makers dined with peace ambassadors. The silent comfort knowing that everyone wanted the same thing helped them press on.
Until three days ago, she had shared their unifying desperation. Now she was alone in celebrating the knowledge that there was an answer, there is a cure, and she was working night and day to replicate the method. Not for fame or glory, as others definitely did, but so that Brooks, as arrogant as he was, could get his niece back and Jenna Marsh, a shell of her former self, might see her younger brother graduate from high school. The ultimate crime would be to abandon her work after coming so close, after curing Beverly.
Failure now drove her to pursue what was once thought impossible, failure to produce the cure for the world. When the opportunity arose in the form of Sgambelluri, fresh off the heels of Brandon, she sprang on it, even if Providence's plan was brash.
She sighed, loudly. Stealing a code strand? The idea was not hers, and neither was the setup, but she did agree that Sgambelluri was not the right man to hold such information. She was willing to do her part tonight if it meant saving the world, and that meant attending this gala and interacting with him. Difficult to do when the man was the center of attention.
Holiday stayed in plain view of the large eastern-most window, still feeling Six's distant shaded gaze as if he were in the room next to her, but the effect was not the same. Not omniscient, not reassuring. Yet, still he believed he could pull off this surgical operation from behind a pair of binoculars.
She shook her head.
If he wanted his plan to go without a hitch, he should be down here in the fray with her. How typical that he was not. That man was impossibly stubborn.
The inclination to obstruct herself from his view on that outlying balcony to prove him wrong was tempting.
"You're dress is beautiful, Doctor."
At the rich, accented voice from behind her, she nearly jumped, and she turned around to meet the perfect smile of Haven Society founder Simon Sgambelluri. Her mark.
"It's one of Don Carlos' designs, yes?" His question and fine features were illuminated by his cordial expression, a perfectly rehearsed tactic that he extorted often and effectively, but she was not caught off guard by such shallow distractions. Her composure was dropped and hastily recovered because she hadn't expected to encounter him so early in the evening.
"Um, yes," she answered through a plastic smile and then a genuine one because he had noticed her well-planned attire. "It is. Thank-you."
"How is your evening?"
She measured his confident posture, enhanced by his custom tailored tuxedo, immaculate and alluring. It's charm did not work on her.
"Good," she replied, a cautious answer, made even more wary in her mind by the distraction of Six's voice over the comm informing the agents that she had finally made contact with their mark.
"-are Home on the Range. I repeat Home on the Range. The Deer and the Antelope are at play."
Sgambelluri glanced down at the marble tiles of the ballroom, considering her answer, and back up at her. He clucked his tongue, furrowing his brows in concern.
"You seem bored."
Holiday chuckled humorlessly, studying the floor herself for a moment. She had anticipated only ruses and deflection from him, but instead he was straight to the point. She would be equally as direct, then.
Her gaze flicked back to his. "I admit that I do not share many viewpoints with most of your guests."
At this, he nodded as if he were already aware of it.
"Then I will admit that I share some of that fault. I had hoped to unite us all tonight to witness something I know we all want."
With her eyes, she followed his flourished gesture of the filled ballroom, her attention falling to every face, hope so blatant and unbidden on each one.
"And what do we want?" For a moment her thoughts were unfiltered, unchecked by discipline, logic, reason, and everything else that defined her. The question slipped past her solid mental defence and she quickly bolstered it for whatever answer the Italian was bound to give.
Instead, he seemed to study her frown that was not one of disagreement but uncertainty. He procured a glass of champagne and offered it to her, pulling it off the tray of a waiter whose job, no doubt, was to trail him as he entertained guests.
With a curt nod, he presented another glass in a toast and she reciprocated the action.
"We want time," he murmured to his glass, pausing for a second as he watched the bubbles rise in the amber liquid. "All the time that was stolen from our brothers and daughters, our sisters and sons."
There was something about the dulcet tone of his voice, the shadow of grief she thought flickered in his eye, that transformed each rising bubble into a lost memory; precious time she and her sister never had.
Sgambelluri drank from his glass and the illusion was broken. She drank hers slowly, watching him down his in two gulps, as if perturbed by his own confession.
His confidence returned along with his smile, half-apologetic and pacifying, the ease and casualness of it making it difficult for her not to return one.
"The presentation is not for a few more minutes, but until then, how can I make your night more entertaining?"
Back to business. He had obviously come to her for something just as she sought him tonight. She smiled. "You already are," she replied politely, loathing the submissive role she would have to play to keep him talking.
He shook his head.
"Please, as Providence's chief scientist, you are one of my most important guests. I regret that we've never personally met." He extended his hand. "Please call me Simon."
"Rebecca," she offered.
"Rebecca," Simon tested with a nod and presented her his arm. "Walk with me?"
"Of course."
She looped her arm around his as he gave his waiter their empty glasses and shooed him away, far enough to be out of earshot. He was tolerable, not nearly as boorish as Brooks, and surprisingly more polite than she expected, although indirect publicity announcements between Haven and Providence were hardly enough to judge his personality. Manners and etiquette, however, did not deter her caution. Sgambelluri was still the head of an organization that often rebuked many of Providence's actions, and, Six was well to remind her twice tonight, there was the strong chance that he could be one of the shadowed bidders at Brandon's sick auction.
It took all her concentration not to shiver at the possibility of its validity, that others in attendance tonight might be as well, or that Simon acknowledged it indirectly.
"It's unfortunate that Dr. Brandon so cruelly played with the world for his own gain," he started, leading her expertly through the crowd. "It puts a very terrible light on people like us, scientists, trying to help the world. I'm surprised this ballroom is so filled as it is."
They passed Jenna Marsh, who obsessively attended every conference held after the Event, and Holiday gave her honest opinion. "The world is getting desperate. We pine for someone who can give us the answers we want so we can go back to our lives."
Simon was silent for a second as he glanced at the stage at the opposite corner of the room.
"I hope I can be that person tonight."
She arched an eyebrow at him, although he did not see it. "Just remember that it was also scientists who started this mess."
His lip curved downward briefly and he looked at her. "And it will be scientists who clean it up. With Dr. Salazar working with Providence, you must be making progress, yes?"
The question was loaded. He was accusing, inferring, soliciting for information, as was she.
"Yes, but perhaps not in the exact direction I'd like." She shrugged and tossed a sly smile; she would work her charm, too. "With science, life's mysteries don't always reveal themselves when you want them too."
It worked. His grin returned and he leaned closer so that he might whisper in her ear with the eager tilt of his body. "It's amazing what falls into your lap at a time when you most need it."
She rewarded him with a well-placed giggle, light and melodic, accompanying a brush from her hand on his. "It is, isn't it? Or when you least expect it."
"Yes. I can tell to you that tonight's reveal was a godsend. When-"
"Place the beacon now," Six spoke gruffly over the comm, interrupting the conversation in her mind, and almost putting a wicked grin on her face. He didn't like the attention Sgambelluri was giving her.
Deftly, she fumbled with the tracking chip on the stud of her earring.
"-the timing couldn't have been any better and-" He noticed her preoccupied expression. "What's wrong?"
"I think I've lost part of my earring."
"Uh..Um..." For once, the Italian looked lost and out of place, glancing at the floor and back to her, whilst trying to remain in control of the situation. It was almost comical, but she used the distraction to slip the tracking beacon into his jacket pocket.
"Don't worry about it," she reassured him. "I'm sure you have much more important things on your mind than a piece of jewelry."
Simon glanced at her briefly then at the stage they had neared and nodded.
He smiled again and offered his hand once more. "Well, Doctor, it has been a pleasure to finally meet you."
"And you." She gave him her best smile. "Good luck tonight."
Teeth, brilliant and perfect, flashed through his lips. "I promise you will not be bored." He bowed slightly. "Now if you'll excuse me."
Holiday watched him leave, navigating through his guests before slipping out the side doors.
"Alright, beacon placed. Do you have a fix?" From her clutch, she fished out the scanner to see if she had one.
"Yes. Tracking him now."
She moved closer to the exits on the eastern side of the ballroom. The next course of action was waiting until they had a definite location and route to Sgambelluri's lab, housed in one of the several adjacent buildings surrounding this one. From there, they'd infiltrate it while the main event happened.
The blip that was Simon Sgambelluri didn't venture very far from the border of the building. Six would be able to narrow down the exact building in a few seconds.
"I've just lost the fix on our mark. Cowboy, do you still have one?"
"Yep, but I'm losing it too," came Callan's reply.
A pause.
"Doctor?"
"I still have one. Still strong."
She heard him exhale sharply. "We're encountering some interference that's weakening the signal."
A harsh sigh of her own left her mouth. Of course he would lose the signal. He was too far away.
"I've got it then," she announced, already making her way to the door that lead to the restrooms. "Cover me."
With only the terse tap of her heels on the marble floor filling the comm, she paid no attention to the silence on the other end. Let him figure out how to solve his problem from his balcony.
The restroom was surprisingly empty, considering the large number of pampered females in attendance, but word had probably spread that Sgambelluri had left the room in preparation. At least the opportunity had opened up a perfect one for her.
Holiday wasted no time confronting the tall but slender window, and after a quick sweep of her eyes around the elegant powder room, wedged it open and exited though it. Elbow room was sparse on the functional balcony, small in its primary use for decor than revitalizing women in the humid Venetian nights. She was wary of the stability of the railing and whether it would hold under her weight, but still she clambered on, balancing delicately on the thin heels of her shoes.
From only the second floor, the murky water of the canal was threatening. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately for her, she had two jumps to make, feats she had to perform in a two thousand dollar dress, heels, and while holding a clutch.
"You're all clear," Six informed, although she was not comforted. There was nobody around to watch her fall if she did, only Six and Callan behind binoculars nearly a block away.
The distance from one balcony railing to the next was close enough to cover in one stride and she did so expertly. When she cleared the second one, she released the breath she held when her feet landed on the floor of the outdoor covered corridor. Sgambelluri's blip was in the building that connected to this one by a gangway over the water. She made her way down the stairs to the first floor and crossed it.
"Once you past the pillars at the end of the gangway, you'll be out of our range of vision."
That meant she'd be going in blind, not that she wasn't already with the mess that was Six's mission execution.
"Ok."
Sgambelluri no longer moved drastically across the screen of her scanner, staying confined to a small area several meters from where she stood. The gangway opened up into an enclosed promenade that it transcepted to continue onto buildings beyond.
"The building I'm in is one long promenade, with a pier at the south entrance and a plaza at the north," she described.
"And the lab?"
"Haven't determined its exact location yet." She sighed at the more than a dozen shops that were both the walls and sections of the structure. Any other day, she would have appreciated the cozy feel the boutiques and bakeries presented; crimson clothed tables scattered about, wooden sconces that weren't golden like the Venetian Rococo influenced ones lining the columns of the ballroom next door; but sadly not tonight. "There are plenty of shops, all closed for the night. One might be a front for-"
"Hey!"
Holiday spun around to face a tuxedoed man, no doubt one of Sgambelluri's men patrolling the premises.
He went to reach for her arm. "You can't be over here-"
She struck before he had a chance to finish his sentence or touch her, grabbing his arm, looping hers around his in a deadly vice, and bringing her other hand down hard in a slice that made contact with the base of his neck. Her attacker hit the floor in forced torpor.
"What was that?" Six's gritted question was full of worry and command.
She looked at the crumpled form as she tugged a strand of hair behind her ear. "Something you should have prevented."
His hum of disapproval was short and terse, but she ignored it as she consulted the tracking scanner again.
The blip was gone.
"Shit." Now the situation was even more screwed. The beacon device shut off, as it was designed to do when it reached Sgambelluri's lab to avoid detection, but not before they determined its location. Holiday froze. Above the sound of water and boats rocking, she was certain she heard voices, muffled, but speaking rapid Italian.
Her mind quickly interpreted what her frantic eyes danced over and formulated her next action. She bent down to strip the unconscious man of his jacket which she wrapped hastily around her fist and arm, driving it straight into the nearest door. Just like the quickly approaching voices, the ambient noise stifled the breaking glass. Silently praying that the door didn't have a bell attached to it, she opened it and drug the guard into the dark bakery.
Not even three seconds later, Sgambelluri passed the door, chattering with two other men who accompanied him. She stayed low, not daring to move or sweep aside the curtain until a significant amount of time passed.
"Respond."
She let thirty seconds of radio silence pass just to be sure. "Close call," she whispered. "The Mark is returning back for the main event."
"Have you located-"
"Not yet," she loosed through gritted teeth, already working to bind the guard with his tie while he remained unconscious. "Let me work without distractions."
The comm stayed quiet as she pulled up on her scanner the last location of the beacon before it shut off. "Ok, I have something."
It was not far away, roughly fifteen meters from the bakery, and headed for it.
"Good. Identify the entrance, then fall back and wait for us."
Holiday rolled her eyes. About damn time he got down here.
She walked seven meters up the promenade and rounded a corner to a small shop that didn't have tables in front of it, but still blended in perfectly with the others. A lonely bulb dimly lit the interior of it, showing a sparse collection of antique doorknobs and handles. Clever. She never would have guessed this was the entrance to Sgambelluri's lab.
"Lab located, Samurai," she announced.
His sigh could almost be heard. "Good work. Now find a safe place to wait."
Before Holiday heeded Six's command, she ventured closer to the shop, peering into the large window to make certain this was the place. Her eyes swept around the room, immediately noticing the metal door, slid ajar, teasing her of the contents that lay beyond it. She paused at the sight. It was certainly interesting that all the trouble of the antique store disguise would be wasted on such an obvious indication as the door, and she studied intently to figure out what the offensive object was that kept it open. The twilight created by the laboratory's bright glow and the front shop's dim one, however, made it difficult to determine what propped the dividing door.
It took another second for her eyes to focus to the harsh shift in lighting, but she when they did, she wished she had not figured out what it was; a human hand. The next second was all it took for her to understand that the large shadow growing underneath it was blood.
Despite her excellent logic, she flung open the door and confirmed what she wished was a trick of the light. She tapped her earpiece, the confidence her voice had moments ago gone now as she stared at the gory mess of a body carved beyond recognition, an eight numeral sliced into the forehead.
"Samurai, you better get down here fast. You're not going to like what's waiting."
It wasn't the sight of the body that chilled her, but that fact that whatever happened here, happened only moments ago.
A/N: Again, thanks a bunch for reading and leaving all the excellent reviews.
Some things to ponder about next chapter and beyond:
1. What's so important about this code strand? How did Sgambelluri get a hold of it? And why is Providence so desperate to have it?
2. What happened in Sgambelluri's lab?
3. Carved numbers! Is this related to Six's playing card from last chap?
Mwuahahaha! Tune it next chapter!