Awakening, page 12
“From Masae Norfolk’s Pharma-NorTech to you with love, as promised.” Mila smiled and kept her gaze high and confident as Mr. Nair’s people examined the purchase. Although they hadn’t had a clue on how to test it. “It’s simple. You’ll open the canisters like you open a soda can, and voilà, the people according to your specifications will fall as you are aware it happened in the US.”
“Everything seems to be in order,” said the assistant, placing the case before his boss.
Mr. Nair stared at the canisters with dark eyes and a wolfy smile. His dark eyes were pools of hate similar to Azer Fariah, the terrorist. They revealed his desire of death upon his enemies. Mila’s stomach churned with disgust and anxiety. She wanted to get out of there immediately. She turned to the wide window to pick on any sign of strong wind, wondering how long she had before nature unleashed its own attack on the city.
“All right, let’s seal the deal. What about a discount of one hundred thousand since we can’t do the testing ourselves right this moment?” Mr. Nair asked as expected, accepting his advisor’s device with his Swiss bank page ready.
“A discount of fifty thousand and that’s final,” answered Mila with a subtle smile, trying to calm her heart, but her senses were ever so alert.
The tycoon signed on the tablet, gazing at Mila. “It’s done.”
“Do you mind if I check?” Mila did as was expected of her and looked on her own device at Masae’s account to confirm the transfer.
“Satisfied?” asked Mr. Nair gazing at Mila with a more-than-business look.
“Payment is complete.” Mila nodded, standing and adjusting her scarf. “On behalf of my mother, it was a pleasure doing business with you,” Mila answered sweetly, “And I leave you with my mother’s gift. Directly from Guantánamo Bay to remind you, in her words, all things are possible.” Mila smiled, almost winking. With a very short expiring date. She thought, glancing at Azer. My mistake, my clean up.
If she didn’t leave now, the jig was up. “With your permission I must leave,” said Mila, examining her fine watch. She stretched her hand to the client.
“Would you consider staying a few days as my guest of honor?” The billionaire stood and shook her hand.
“I would love to accept,” Mila replied, purring as Masae had instructed her. “But I have a full flying schedule ahead of me. Representing my mother and Pharma-NorTech keeps me barely on the ground.”
“Work without pleasure, I’m afraid.” Mr. Nair commented, nodding to his men to accompany her out. “But I will send an official invitation next time and I won’t accept no for an answer,” he replied, showing his white teeth like a cunning predator. “But for now, let me take you to your jet. My helicopter is available and ready. It’ll be faster to move by air. Inshallah, the storm holds off until your save departure.”
Mila’s stomach turned. Her chest was burning with the tension spreading through her. She urged herself to appear calm; her trickery wouldn’t be revealed, she hoped. “I am most grateful. Inshallah!” She bowed to him and followed the entourage to the helipad.
CHAPTER 19
Hong Kong – June, 2007
Well into international skies, Mila’s fast, drumming heart relaxed and her breathing became normal. She sat looking at the vastness outside the jet’s narrow window. She pictured Azer with disgust and fear, bursting from the inside out, contaminating those in close proximity. She wondered if Mr. Nair and his crew in the suit would suffer the same fate as Azer, if no one opened the door for a couple of hours when the poison was set to expire. It had been a gamble and she did without considering the repercussions: the word would be out.
How long would it take until Masae’s clients realize the danger of making business with Pharma-NorTech? Would that stop Masae?
“What would happen next? What is my plan?” She asked herself in a whisper. There wasn’t any. But one thing was clear, she couldn’t travel around the world delivering bioweapons. She wouldn’t be broken into Masae’s understanding of the world or her vision of strength.
What kind of person had she been before losing her memory? She tried to remember for the thousand time—a timid and fragile girl or a daring and brave woman? Or neither or both? She felt excited for a split second, considering her prior life as a woman with dreams and hopes and friends and family. But the light was diffused by her reality, she was an edited, manufactured human. She accepted, frowning while her chest ached.
Good and evil dueled within herself. What she had done in Dubai had set in motion her new quest: recovering her memory even if it would be painful to discover this shell was the best version of herself. She looked around the jet, everything and everyone in it was a piece in Masae’s world. Tools to be used. The jet shook and harsh turbulence forced Mila to dislodge from her introspection.
When the turbulence passed, Mila changed into the clothes she had to wear for the second delivery. The designer and personal assistant help her get into a sophisticated, futuristic ruby-red suit. She went through the motions of allowing them to dress her like a doll. They changed her makeup to a more natural glow and the lilac contact lenses to a pair of forest green ones. They fastened her mane on the back of her head with a delicate white-gold comb in the shape of a rose. They handed her a pair of dangling earrings to finish the look.
When it was time to pick up the steel case, Mila glared at it and the canisters to trade, profitable and deadly. The real power is having the courage to choose right over wrong. Life over death. A strong voice pierced her thoughts. One life, one entire world. She looked at the crew, did they say those things?
Mila was left by herself when the pilot warned them of the upcoming landing. She had only a few seconds to decide on what to do next. She didn’t have more sleeping-gas canisters to switch with. She had to improvise. She transferred the canisters into a harmless looking box with articles that would be taken back to Pharma-NorTech. She filled the weapon’s case with the items of her carry-on luggage, unsure of what she would do next. She stashed her documents that would allow her to make a clean escape, if she ever needed one.
Mila hurried to sit. She fastened her seat belt, feeling anxious. It seemed to be a normal state for her. She distracted her mind with Hong Kong’s rugged, fluorescent topography as it came into view when the jet approached the city in the wee hours of the morning. The city remained ignited while most of the inhabitants slept. Splendid temples, a dark ocean sprinkled with lights, and Buddhas glowing golden in the dark. “Hello, Hong Kong, city of fruitful trading,” Mila whispered, gazing at the cascades of lights below. “Could I slip out of this life here? I could become a ghost…”
The Bentley driver dashed through the fast lane and winding roads, making it difficult for Mila to recognize the trajectory she had memorized. The roads were charged with pulsing traffic all around. Speeding drivers invaded lanes, accelerating and decelerating sometimes without warning.
Next turn must be Kowloon Park. We’ll stay on this street for a couple of blocks, then left turn onto Middle road, and voilà, the Peninsula Hong Kong, glittering romance and glamour, like a castle in its own right. The Grande Dame of the Far East welcomed Mila with colorful lights, part of a Renaissance art display taking the entire front.
After the dutiful appreciation of the lights dancing on the façade, Mila entered the perfectly lit lobby. It smelled of expensive leather, floral arrangements and exclusive fragrances emanating from the wealthy guests.
As the agreement went, she was to meet there with the founder of a prosperous, multinational business conglomerate: Mr. Guozhi Zhong Liu. She had been briefed with the pertinent information. He was one of Masae’s strong competitors in the pharmaceutical industry. Who, recognizing Masae’s achievement, decided to skip the expensive and time consuming research and trials, to have a weapon at his disposal and replicate, thought Mila, but who, in the right mind, would let a virus escape?
As Mila continued with her trajectory recognition, she was alerted of an incoming private and secured message: Mr. Zhong Liu wasn’t able to attend the meeting, but he was sending his representatives. Soft classical music filled the air around the guests who seemed cut out of a runway show. Mila studied the place with a panoramic glance; although everything was as it should be inside such a hotel, she had a funny feeling in her gut. There was something strange about it, like the peaceful silence and stillness before a storm.
She took her time, checking in for the night while studying her surroundings. The uneasiness persisted. She observed her surroundings as if soaking in the beauty of the place. She spotted a couple resting on classic love chairs, when the ground shook and swayed, and flashing lights engulfed her. Mila was trembling with the sensation of traveling at great speed—the speed of light quite literally. She held onto the nearest jade pedestal for support as the tremors and light dissipated. She had closed her eyes without realizing, and when she opened them, there was a duplicate of herself walking to the reception counter. Mila shook her head; perhaps the lack of proper rest, intense travel and changing time zones were taking their toll on her mind.
She tiptoed behind her duplicate, the second Mila, keeping out of view behind columns. She noticed people didn’t pay attention to her; maybe they couldn’t see her, she thought, but continued cautiously.
“Ms. Norfolk, here is your suite key; however, your meeting is in our conference room right at this time. If you have luggage, we will take it to your suite with your permission.”
“Thank you; no luggage, just a handbag,” she said, referring to the steel case. “I’m supposed to have a meeting with Mr. Zhong Liu. Could you tell me which conference room?”
“Welcome, Ms. Norfolk.” A well-dressed, wiry man cleared his throat behind Mila. “Please allow me to guide you to the meeting hall.”
“And who are you?” Mila asked, inspecting the man. While the second Mila watched the whole scene.
“I am Jiang Chen, Mr. Zhong Liu’s reception coordinator.” He bowed and waited for Mila to move.
“Please, lead the way, Mr. Chen,” said the duplicate Mila to the billionaire’s representative.
The real Mila followed them with a steady uneasiness creeping up and spreading throughout her being.
They traversed the marble-floored foyers, walked by silk-paneled walls and gold-leaf ink paintings. There were guards on both sides of the room’s entrance. They opened the door and let Mr. Chen and Mila enter.
“Is the case containing the weapon? Could I relieve you from it?” Mr. Chen asked Mila, stretching his hand to take the case, looking at the guards already behind Mila.
“That’s against business protocol, Mr. Chen,” replied duplicate Mila, looking behind her shoulders. She sensed that the guards were ready for when Mr. Chen would give the order. However, they had left the door open. “Could you put me on the phone with Mr. Liu? I need to talk to him directly.”
“That will be difficult. As far as he knows, this meeting was canceled by your mother.” He shook his head. “I’d like to spare you the pain and trouble, Ms. Norfolk. Your mother has developed a weapon that Mr. Lui wanted to use on his enemies. And since he’s been my nemesis, it’s natural I want to have what you got in that case.”
“And you didn’t have the money to pay for it?” Mila answered, studying her situation and the contents of the case. “Unfortunately, I can’t give you what you want. This case is actually attached to my hand, you see?” Duplicate Mila was talking when the ground shook and the blinding lights wrapped the watching Mila, leaving her back in the lobby where she had been standing as if nothing had happened.
Mila looked around; the scene was repeating but this time without any doubles. There wasn’t another of her. She had been shown a few moments ahead. Her heart was racing as if she had just crossed a marathon’s finish line. Mila walked to the reception counter ready to prove her theory.
“Ms. Norfolk, here is your suite key. However, your meeting is in our conference room. If you have luggage, we will take it to your suite with your permission.”
“Thank you; no luggage, just a handbag,” she said, referring to the steel case. “I’m supposed to have a meeting with Mr. Zhong Liu. Could you tell me which conference room?”
“Welcome, Ms. Norfolk.” A well-dressed, wiry man cleared his throat behind Mila. “Please allow me to guide you to the meeting hall.”
“And who are you?” Mila asked. She already knew he was the mafia’s ambassador, Jiang Chen, but wanted another confirmation to her time travel.
“I am Jiang Chen, Mr. Zhong Liu’s reception coordinator.” He bowed and waited for Mila to move.
“Please, lead the way, Mr. Chen,” Mila answered, following the already-seen path.
“Is the case containing the weapon? Could I relieve you from it?” Mr. Chen asked Mila, stretching his hand to take the case, looking at the guards already behind Mila.
“That’s against business protocol, Mr. Chen,” answered Mila, looking at the guards, knowing to take only a few steps into the room. “Could you put me on the phone with Mr. Liu? I need to talk to him directly.”
“That will be difficult. As far as he knows, this meeting was canceled by your mother.” He shook his head. “I’d like to spare you the pain and trouble, Ms. Norfolk. Your mother has developed a weapon that Mr. Lui wanted to use on his enemies. And since he’s been my nemesis, it’s natural I want to have what you got in that case.”
“I don’t think so. It’s actually attached to my hand.” Mila struck one guard on the temple with the steel case in her hand while, with the other hand, she disarmed the second guardian. She shot them both in the leg and ran out through the emergency stairs, feeling her heart in her mouth. The men immediately went after her. A couple emerged from a room and fired at her with their silenced guns. She kept running, protecting herself with the indestructible bullet-proof case. “I’m so sick of this!” She said fighting those in front of her as best as she could in the narrow corridor. She took their guns and moved.
Mila ran down the stairs to another floor and broke into a hotel room where a young couple were sitting on the elegant sofa chatting, looking into each other’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry.” She said pointing the gun, without any intention of firing. “Please, I need your help.”
The man, who was standing like a knight ready to protect his princess, moved out of Mila’s way, looking only at the gun.
Mila quickly studied the woman: the measurements and proportions would work. “I need to take your clothes,” Mila said, herding them in front of her to the closet. She took out what was necessary and put it in the lady’s fancy daypack. She put on the designer flats the young lady had, still in their Jimmy Choo box. “I’m so sorry. Here is the money. She dropped some cash she had in the case. Doh je!” Mila whispered and left through the French doors to the terraces improvising a parkour escape, jumping, dropping, and rolling, sliding and getting up and running. She climbed down the wall using windowsills like a spider monkey. Still behind her, her pursuers almost caught up to her. Mila reached the service stairs with her pursuers in tow. She shot and fought her way through the laundry room and then the fancy kitchen, followed by her pursuers.
Mila fought with those standing in her way with her hand-to-hand combat, but the guns proved to be a more efficient way to get them out of her way. As the assassins did as well.
She heard one of them speaking through his communication device, but she didn’t understand what they said. Her heart was pounding so hard and her lungs were burning, but she didn’t want to stop and look back or she would collapse. She exited the hotel into the night and disappeared through the alleyways she had memorized. She kept moving all the way to the Hong Kong high-speed rail station and got on the train to the international airport.
Mila changed again into new clothes from the airport boutiques. She procured an identity from a fancy travel bag and walked to the Air France counter, wearing her long hair rolled in a bun, a beautiful clothing ensemble, designer heels, and an aloof regard as if tired of making the same routine commute from Hong Kong to Paris.
“Bienvenue, mademoiselle.” The Air France flight attendant welcomed Mila and led her to her business class seat.
“Merci beaucoup.” Mila sat, accepting an immediate courtesy drink from the flight attendant. Thankful to be by herself in her own space, she drank from her glass to calm herself and reflect on her unusual experience. Her hands shook, her stomach was in knots. What in the world happened? Mila thought, did Time arrange for me to see everything before it happened.
Did I have a premonition? But I was physically there, not in my mind. Did I move through time? Is this part of the neogenesis editing? Had Masae and Alexander designed it as a deluxe feature or something? If so, they would have mentioned it. Mila searched frantically for answers as a memory from the day she had ran in the woods lit up in her mind—after drinking the experimental drug in the water, she had sensed her body wanting to move with the light as the ground shook, but she felt also as if she was held back in place by an elastic band. Had the Soul’s Vine, the experimental psychedelic drug, shaken her mind? Or was moving through the light of Time an innate ability Masae didn’t know about? And now, it was triggered by her desire to go after the truth, by her resolve to recover her real self, fragment by fragment.
Whatever the case, there was no turning back.
CHAPTER 20
Jerusalem – June, 2007
The night slowly crept through Mila’s Rehavia apartment. A cold breeze blew in through the windows Mila had left ajar. The dimmed streetlights filtered between the delicate curtains, projecting ripples of light across the thin comforter barely covering her.
Mila adjusted her pillow and position countless times before slipping into another lucid session of strange dreams. Memories stored in the corners of her subconscious came to the light. She appeared in a child’s bedroom, a man was speaking to a baby a sentence like a blessing—or was it a curse? Mila, you are iron wrapped in silk, like your mother. Love without sacrifice is not love. Then he walked away, leaving her standing with her arms outstretched trying to hold on to him. She ran after him through a large garden, but instead of finding him, she met a young woman in ancient clothing, a girl so much like herself.
