The Brownstone

Bobbie peered cautiously at the side window at the tall and familiar figure leaning on her door and pressing the doorbell. She opened the door wide.

"Luke! What are you doing here?" asked Bobbie. "It's five in the morning!

His muffled voice came through loud and clear. "C'mon, open up! Let me in already."

"Stop pushing the bell. You're going to wake everyone up."

Luke stepped inside and firmly closed the door. "Bunch of docs and nurses - they should be used to broken sleep. Got any boiling hot coffee, Red?"

Bobbie led her brother into the kitchen. "You look like you haven't slept all night. You reek of smoke and booze. And you have that look in your eye."

"A brother can't visit his sister when he's feeling lonely and … and shunned?"

Bobbie prepared filled the coffeemaker with water and coffee grounds. "You shunned? I don't think so. Why are you here instead of in bed asleep?"

"Busy night on the Star. You know how keyed up I get. I can't get to sleep afterwards."

Bobbie crossed her arms. "Try again. Something more convincing this time."

Luke sighed and looked everywhere but at his knowing sister. "I had a meeting on the docks."

"Your business associates usually have the run of the Star. Meetings on the docks aren't necessary."

"All right, how about this. I was on the docks watching the island."

"Waiting for Helena again?"

"She always comes back new devious scheme in hand," said Luke. "I have to … to head her off at the pass before she starts anything. Someone has to protect this family!"

"Helena loves the attention you give her. Ignore her!" advised Bobbie. "After all this time, what could she do to us that she hasn't already? Answer - nothing. The feud is over. We don't bother her and she won't bother us."

"It's not over, Barbara Jean. She's … she's up to her neck in … in SOMETHING and … and …"

"And so are you therefore you want to make sure that whatever it is, you're not caught in the net, too," said Bobbie. "Really, Luke, you flip flop from wanting to destroy her to scheming alongside her. Don't you think it's time to stop? Focus on other things in your life maybe."

"It's not over until … until I feel this family is safe."

"We can take care of ourselves," said Bobbie. "Besides, I don't think she's coming back for a while."

"Why not? Because the boy scout, his mistress of spies and their band of dobermans are in charge again?"

Bobbie poured steaming coffee into two mugs. She slid one towards her brother. "I've never seen you this much against Robert. What happened between you two?"

"He's never had a stick up his you-know-what this high up before! God, he's gotten so righteous."

"He's not in charge you know."

"Could have fooled me," said Luke. "All the businessmen I know, even some of the shady ones, want a piece of the Megaplex. They've been trying to gobble up the real estate in the area and guess what?"

"What?"

"Nearly every adjacent block has been bought by the Trident Holding Company. Bought at market price, too," said Luke. "They're strangling the other landlords." He sipped his coffee. "Got any toast?"

"Slumlords, you mean," retorted Bobbie. Luke made a face. "Don't look at me like that. I'm only telling the truth. That area is one of the worst areas in midtown. The Megaplex is leading a rehabilitation of the community. That's a good thing!"

"And it was a good thing to keep Robin's funeral private? She had a lot of friends and people who loved and cared for her," said Luke. "I had to listen to Sonny rant for an hour."

"If Sonny had a problem with it, he should have talked to Robert or Anna," said Bobbie. She tossed a box at Luke. "You'll have to settle for pop tarts. They were following her wishes. They really were, Luke."

"It was a cold way to treat us. Robert's many thing but he's never been uncaring about the people around him. This time he was rude AND cruel."

Bobbie shook her head. "It was better that we remember her as she was."

"It was disrespectful."

Bobbie's voice softened. "Listen to me. The disease ravaged her physically. She was tiny to begin with and … and at the end …" She reached out a hand and clasped Luke's arm. "What they did was for the best. Don't use Robin against Robert. He won't forgive you if you do. You don't know what he and Anna went through. Let it go, Luke, and patch things up with him. Please."

Luke drained his coffee and stood up. "Thanks for the refreshment. Keep the tart. I'm off to see the wife and the other dysfunctional family."

"Stop running away!"

"I will when you start telling me what you know. I can see it in your eyes that you're hiding something. No one knows you better, remember?"

Bobbie challenged him, "And I know you. Tell me who you were meeting on the docks at this time of day."

Luke strode out of the kitchen calling out, "Call me when you want to talk."

Villa Scorpio

At dawn, Giles relieved Dani at Command and Control. He put a freshmade cup of coffee on the table for Dani.

"Genji's nearly done withi his assignment in Brisbane. Whatever it is," reported Dani. "Everyone has scattered. Where did you book Nestor and Nyssa?"

Giles shrugged. "The website said it was the Club Med of the Pacific."

"Three of them? One after the other?"

"Just following orders, Dani. Jealous much?"

"Spa treatments. Massages. Pampered head to foot," said Dani. "Two weeks, Giles!"

Giles chuckled. "Give them all the grunt work you want when they get back."

"I just might do that," said Dani. "King Delafield has reported that they're prepared to host their special guests whenever they arrive. The other doubles checked through customs just fine."

"And the real parties?"

"Robert's four lands in nine hours. Dia and Mac are Macao bound in six. The Maricks should be home safe in half a day. Andrew hasn't planned his route. He said that he was going to be spontaneous. Should we be worried?"

Giles frowned. "For Edgar and Holly, absolutely. Andrew's got his backpack. He can go anywhere. What's the word on our gang on the roof?"

"No word."

"No one's found them?"

"There was no one to BE found," clarified Dani. "They're gone. We left that anonymous message at the Consulate to send someone to the hotel. They reported that it was a hoax."

"That can't be! They were there."

"The story is fishy even to me," said Dani. "Closer to home, Neal and Khamchatta just left to do their turn on surveillance on one Arnold Vandenberg, Jr."

"That ID was quick."

"He's WSB, Giles. He's from a specialty branch called the Gemini Group that specializes in liasson services between commercial interests and the WSB."

"Covert accountants. Interesting."

"The Gemini Group doesn't officially exist. SIMON had to access an alternate database to get a match. An older subsystem patterned after the WSB's previous systems architecture. This particular subsystem was created to be exclusive to the Gemini Group. It's the only place where personnel records for this group are kept. Other than the basic information it contains nothing else," said Dani. "And, it had a different cryptography layer than the usual WSB data set."

"Keeping information away from your own team sounds like extreme paranoia."

"Neither of us has intelligence experience. Maybe it's standard operating procedure for some groups. I've left a note for Lars about it," said Dani. "You going to start on Dia's collection?"

"Yeah. I wish Nestor or Genji were here though," said Giles pulling out the DVD found on Tim Sidwell's boat. "They're dab hands at this sort of thing. Alys, Lars and I are going to give it a good try though."

WSB Headquarters, NYC

Ross stepped into the elevator before Frisco could hit the close button.

"Good morning, Ross," said Frisco without enthusiasm.

"When are you leaving for your next assignment?" asked Ross.

"I'm not done investigating Tim's death."

"What's there to investigate? He was targeted by the other side. Given his position here, I'm only surprised that it didn't happen sooner."

"You're all heart, Ross."

Ross bristled. "Frisco, we all know the risks and rewards of what we do. Practical common sense will keep you alive more than flashy heroics. Tim took it upon himself to disappear that weekend. He was not under his usual security coverage. Why he chose that weekend, who knows? The fact of the matter is that Tim took an unnecessary risk. No coverage means no protection. He SHOULD have known better."

Frisco clamped his mouth shut and his kept his hands by his side. He mentally repeated a mantra of calm. It was sheer luck that Ross had the natural-born ability to get under his skin effortlessly.

At the top floor, they separated - Frisco to Connie's office and Ross to his office. Frisco found Connie waiting for him.

"Your access privileges have been changed, Frisco. Go and audit to your heart's content," said Connie.

"Am I actually going to find anything?"

"You never know," said Connie. She closed her door three quarters then motioned Frisco to take a seat. "It's standard operating procedure after an upgrade or system issue." From a drawer she pulled out a small whiteboard. She began to write on it while talking. "Usually, Tim does one without having to be reminded. It's just part of his normal routine I suppose." She showed the whiteboard to Frisco.

It said: It's started. Moscow. Warn Dia.

Connie contined to talk loudly, "Think you can dust off your analysis skills?"

"It's like a riding a bike-" began Frisco.

The door swung open. Deftly, Connie tucked the whiteboard under some paperwork on her desk. An irritated Ross came in.

"Why wasn't I told about this earlier?" asked Ross.

"Communications tried your phone this morning and got no answer. They got me instead," said Connie. "Things are under control. Calm down."

"Operations has no jurisdiction in the field. These orders should have been passed by ME first!"

"There was no time," replied Connie in even and unhurried tones. "They went to our agents to defect. I authorized the asylum requests. On my instructions, they were brought to the embassy. The State Department is actually happy this time. How often do two political dissidents, four counterintelligence officers and an Army general land in their laps?"

"They were not debriefed. How do we know these are legitimate defections?"

"Every single one of them checks out."

"We've never had this many at one time before. That's suspicious."

"If I remember correctly, Ross, your department didn't pass them through very often," said Connie.

"WE have strict requirements. This isn't the old days, Connie, where field agents can vouch personally for the character of an enemy agent based on the flimsiest of reasons."

"There was more trust in the old days. Trust before paperwork."

"You liked cozying up to them didn't you? Or maybe you still do," said Ross.

"What can I say? I'm the friendly sort," replied Connie. "Tell your people to expect more defectors. I called this more than a month ago, Ross, remember?"

"Gods! You're still babbling about a DVX civil war!" exclaimed Ross. "They go through instability every decade or so. There is no civil war. It's ridiculous."

"Something or someone is stirring the pot over there. Don't you read the same reports I do?" said Connie. "We need to give guidance to our agents before they get blindsided."

"Guidance of what? We have no proof of anything actually happening."

"This morning's defectors had a lot to say," said Connie. "There's a witch hunt going on. Senior DVX officers are disappearing left and right at their headquarters and in the field. I don't need to tell you that this puts our informers on the firing line, too."

"They're going to say what you want to hear!" said Ross. "They've gone through these purges before. The last one was, what, the … the late seventies. It's normal for them. Until we have verified the defectors' stories with credible sources their asylum requests are on hold."

"Not this time," retorted Connie. "The executive panel has approved my requests. They're in State's hands now."

"You had no authority to-"

"Next time, answer your phone," said Connie. "Since you're here, I must officially inform you of the imminent systems and technology audit."

"What? Now?" asked Ross.

"It's overdue," explained Connie. "Tim used to run basic audits every month. We missed last quarter so we need to do a comprehensive cycle this time around."

Ross spluttered, "We have too much going on and-"

"I wasn't asking for your permission. It was a simple notification."

"The new guy isn't up on all the systems yet. You should wait until he is."

"It doesn't require that level of technical expertise. You run a few programs, get some printouts, archive some data. Don't worry about it Ross. Any trained monkey could do it," said Connie. "In fact, I've assigned it to Frisco."

"Thanks, Connie," said Frisco. "Your faith in me is … touching."

"He's not profiled to access that-" began Ross.

"I changed his account permissions temporarily. He'll be fine," said Connie. "You better get back to your office, Ross. I'm expecting more defectors in the days ahead. You're going to be very busy."

On board the mega-yacht Callisto Star

Peter presented himself at the salon. Helena sat behind a desk reading from her laptop screen. Charlotte reclined on the couch with her leg propped on a low ottoman.

"I am here as requested," said Peter as he walked in and sat in an armchair.

"Thank you, Peter. Help yourself to coffee on the table there." Helena stood up and sat on the sofa opposite to Charlotte's end and closer to Peter. "There's some sweet bread if you can keep it down."

"I'll skip the bread," said Peter as he made himself some coffee. "Wasn't there three of you?"

"Arielle is tending to other matters," said Helena.

"You said you were to meet Cesar Faison - when and where?" asked Charlotte.

"Tomorrow eight in the evening at the … the Hotel Sovietsky's Green Bar in Moscow."

"I know the place. Very private location," murmured Charlotte. "What were you to discuss with him?"

"Nothing of importance now."

"Come now, Peter. You were babbling incoherently about it," said Helena.

"It's a family matter. It has nothing to do with my work. Former work."

"This meeting has been confirmed? He'll be there?" asked Charlotte.

"Yes and yes," Peter took a long drink of coffee. "It's a moot point. I don't have her. No leverage left."

"Her is Robin Scorpio?"

"She who is my wife," said Peter dryly.

"What?" asked Helena and Charlotte in unison.

"In name only. I am not a … lecherous man. I'm old enough to be her father," said Peter. "Our union was an instrument to allow me to better move her around. That is all. I've never touched her."

"She agreed and married you willingly?" asked Helena.

"She had no choice in the matter. I was threatening her family, her mother especially, and that's the quickest way to gaining her cooperation."

Charlotte's eyes narrowed, "Were you … did you have the capacity to carry out your threats?"

"Not me personally. Elena occasionally hired some people on contract to do things for her," said Peter. "I borrowed them sometimes to take pictures and movies. I hoarded them until Robin became difficult."

"But would you have harmed her family?"

"I doubt it."

Helena smiled but not in a good way, "You cannot harm another directly yet you create mass poisons."

Peter flushed. "It wasn't like that at the beginning. My work could have made a difference in the sick. I still believe that."

"But greed reared its ugly but necessary visage and altruism was forgotten," said Charlotte.

"I … we needed so much money to do the research. We had to get it from somewhere, somehow."

"And you had no qualms at all about the people you were administering the treatment to?" Charlotte's tone of voice had a brittle edge to it.

"Elena arranged the procurement of test subjects among criminals, the mentally ill, the presumed war dead - all expendable dregs of society."

"Well, they certainly were AFTER you got through with them," said Charlotte. "However, I was-"

"Charlotte!" Helena shook her head.

"A family should deal in truth. Outside of the family is another story," said Charlotte.

"Very well. Tell him if you must."

Charlotte looked at Peter. "You've asked me who I am repeatedly. Let me tell you. I am Charlotte Devane."

"Devane? As in-" began Peter.

"Anna Devane is my niece by marriage," said Charlotte. "I raised her twin Alexandra Marick as my own child."

Peter was puzzled. "What are you doing here with us?"

"That is a long involved story and unimportant. What IS vital for you to know is that I was your LAST patient," said Charlotte. "Robin told me I was being prepared for a special client. I escaped during the delivery process."

Peter leaned towards Charlotte studying her face. She had lost weight and the stress of surviving her ordeal was evident still in her face and form. His eyes were drawn to her leg and her cane.

"I distracted your guards allowing Robin to escape. I was not so fortunate."

"That was you?" exclaimed Peter. "How were you physically able to move, to react? The treatment should have left you docile and weak as a newborn."

Charlotte remembered every word and action that occurred during Robin's 'confession' to her. It was information she would keep to herself. Still she answered truthfully, "I'm not certain. Perhaps a mistake was made."

"No. We've done that procedure hundreds of times." Peter's eyes studied Charlotte's face with clinical intensity. "You were tranquilized and … and delivered to my client. How did you survive the sea?"

Charlotte let out a low chuckle. "Sheer dumb luck and I have a souvenir to show for it." She pointed to her leg. "I shall never walk normally and I doubt I shall regain the strength that I used to have. However, I am thinking more clearly, sharper, than I ever have. I believe that is due to your treatment."

"No hallucinations, strange dreams, confusion, feelings of paranoia?" asked Sinclair.

"None at all. In fact, my sense of purpose is more acute than it has been in a very, very long time."

"In addition to Charlotte's remarkable recovery, I have seen your work in action, Peter. I share Charlotte's belief that your work must continue," said Helena. "It has more potential than even you suspect."

"Yes, yes, I see that." Sinclair groaned in frustration. "But I … I can't start from nothing. I need my formulas."

"The ones that Robin has?" asked Charlotte. "You said she would give it to you in exchange for what again?"

"Her passbook to her bank account in Switzerland, her dog who she has already and a divorce."

"Hmm, we can't very well ask her outright, can we?" said Helena.

"Why not?" asked Peter. "We're not friends but we dealt as fairly as we could with each other."

"Surely she wants you dead."

"One time we talked about what we wanted out of life. All Robin wanted was to be free with no ties to me."

"No talk of vengeance?"

Peter was thoughtful. "Having HIV as she does, it gives her a unique viewpoint. Every day she lives with a death sentence over her head. Why waste time feeling hate when living is a better option? It took me a while to understand that and her. She's also scrupulously fair."

"What do you mean?"

"If I wanted something, she had to receive something in kind and vice versa. For example, I wanted her to take her medicines under supervision but she desired privacy. I agreed to no cameras in her bedroom while she agreed to take her medication when it was given to her and to be closely monitored doing so."

"Quid pro quo," said Charlotte. "She took your formulas and planned for an exchange. Shrewd, cunning and courageous."

"I need the formulas for another reason," said Sinclair. He looked nervous. "I am … was contracted to create an older formula. If I don't deliver it soon, my life won't be worth anything. And they don't take apologies or … or give second chances."

"Who is they?" asked Helena.

"They're called the Gemini Group."

"They are not familiar to me." Helena looked at Charlotte. "Have you heard of them."

"No. Are they recently formed?"

"You probably know their parent organization - the World Security Bureau," said Peter.

It was Helena and Charlotte's turn to be surprised.

"The WSB dealt with you indirectly?" asked Helena.

"I … I don't believe the WSB knows what we do for the Gems. Or that my work exists," said Peter.

An image of two gold parallel lines flashed through Charlotte's mind. "Gemini? Their logo, is it similar to the astrological symbol?"

"Yes. In gold or sometimes red," said Peter.

"Were they the special client I was destined to be delivered to?"

"Yes."

"To be turned into a blank slate for what purpose?"

Peter fidgeted in his chair. "I'm not certain."

"Speculations are welcome," said Helena.

"After training and more treatment at their facility, you may have been scheduled for deployment with the personality imprint of … of-"

"The perfect spy," finished Charlotte. "Or near perfect."

"All under the nose of the WSB? I find that hard to believe," said Helena.

Charlotte grinned. "We have ways to confirm this information."

"No! I was instructed to never contact the WSB directly. I always worked with the Gems."

Helena smiled back. "Do make that call, Charlotte. If this is true, then finding you, Peter, has been a stroke of good fortune."

"But the WSB-" persisted Peter.

"I am VERY familiar with the organization," said Helena. "And I need no further motivation to deal with them."