Chapter Five

Suzette Reynolds was in absolute heaven.  She’d been snatched away from the best position on Earth and was seated at the right hand of God.  If that God was the gorgeous Roarke.  And the right hand was his man Summerset.  She pushed the whole lousy analogy away and focused on her point.  She had a chance to prove herself to Caro and Roarke, gaining their confidence and securing her future with Roarke Industries.  And she had more resources at her fingertips than necessary to make this a success.

The Licensed Companions had been organized and as the military men and women poured onto Olympus, they were being nicely paired.  Or ménage a trios’.  Information was already beginning to trickle in.  She’d hooked Captain Feeney to be her go-between with the head geek Spranton, getting the hint from Summerset that Detective McNab may not be her best choice due to some current relationship issues.  She had understood that, seeing the vibes between Lieutenant Dallas’ right hand Detective Peabody and the sexy e-detective.  Feeney was already tracking several points of entry into the war game program.

She’d fallen in with Lieutenant Dallas’ war board setup.  Summerset had efficiently had them placed in Roarke’s suite, her own, and the war room they had created at Roarke’s Olympus offices.  Suzette had every detail efficiently listed and placed, quickly learning how Dallas would place them.  On a second board of her own, Suzette had placed the photos of the players on what she thought of as the DLE Team.  She wanted her response to any of them to be immediate, not having to wait for her mind to flip through a file to tell her who was talking to her, or who she may be asked about.  But there were auxiliary players, which was why she was at the transpo station now.

Carl Davidson, Chief of Roarke’s Personal Security was arriving and she had the disc Roarke wanted him to review.  That could have been sent with a driver, but Suzette was sure that there would be some actions being taken fairly quickly with which she needed to be familiar.  Roarke was very protective of his wife, and she knew Davidson had been called to the satellite due to a rather handsome Army Commander named Winslett manhandling her yesterday.  The disc had shown Lieutenant Dallas handling the man easily, but that wasn’t her call to make.  Summerset had also given her a nudge that no action was over the top when it came to her boss’ attention toward his wife, echoing Caro’s lecture.

Now, as she waited, Suzette observed the shuttleport activity.  Familiar with US Custom Service thanks to a family of oddballs which included one brother who worked for that agency, she noticed a particular lack of vigilance by the Olympus CS officers stationed on the fifth and sixth scanners.  Idly, she walked over, noting the three women and one man involved.  None were under sixty by her estimate;  retired and enjoying life working on a satellite.  Not how Suzette hoped to be in her sixth decade.  Still … she watched a man obviously smuggling some kind of fruit in his carry bag head toward the baggage claim area.  Intrigued, she followed along.  Davidson wasn’t due in for another twenty minutes.

The baggage claim was mostly hotel employees efficiently sorting through arriving guests bags to be sent to their rooms and unpacked by efficient maids or personal staff.  But there was a share of individuals picking up their own bags.  Suzette observed her fruit smuggler hauling two fair sized suitcases off the turntable.  She’d bet her next appointment with Trina that there was more fruit in them.  She barely had to get within three feet to smell citrus.  Satisfied, Suzette headed to the gate that was Roarke Industries private shuttle arrival point, and smoothed her hair.  She’d just have a discreet word with Police Chief Darcia at the DLE Team dinner tonight.  Oranges were not a large crime, more of a fine issue, but public service was always appreciated.

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Determined to keep her promise, Eve finished attaching an ankle bracelet that had to weigh three pounds.  She was tempted to put another one on her opposite ankle just to keep from being thrown off her stride.  But she didn’t see a matching one in the stash Summerset had packed and didn’t want to look like an idiot just throwing glitters on.  It would be Roarke’s fault if she fell down a flight of stairs of something.

With the mental picture of her glitters-enhanced body ending up sprawled in front of one of the grand staircases of Roarke’s casinos, Eve headed to the private elevator.  She gave the elegant staircase near a reception area a wary glance as she headed for the busy sidewalks that offered multiple choices of destinations, or simply a chance to wander the world that had been made for their pleasure.  Roarke had taken her on a leisurely drive this afternoon, showing her the new buildings, land and water features he and a few chosen others had built since her last visit.  Frankly, since she’d come close to blowing a hotel up and burning down not one but three casinos on her last visit, Eve suspected her was just trying to point out that she had options that weren’t so well populated as targets.  But she had been impressed.  A little overwhelmed, actually.  It was scary to think that they were in space, outer space, on something that she still suspected could run into Earth at any time, and that this satellite had been created by her own fragile, homicidal race.

Now, Eve chose a pathway she knew would take her to Roarke’s office building.  She glanced around at the busy bistros lining the sidewalks and capturing attention between the casinos, hotels, and shops.  Still … her experienced gaze caught the Illegals exchange, the unlicensed companions casually drumming up business, the pick pockets making their living, and some unsavory characters in the mix of tourists.  She also saw plenty of Darcia’s police force so those same tourists were unaware of potential crime.
Eve felt a brush on her senses, whirled, right hand reaching for the stunner in its harness which was senselessly still in their suite because she’d been focused on putting the glitters on, left arm forward to block an attack.  Roarke smoothly caught her left hand and carried it to his laughing mouth, kissed her knuckles, then wound her arm through his.  “Lieutenant.  You were expecting someone else?”  He kissed her temple before guiding her to begin walking once more, ignoring gawkers.  “I can’t remember the last time you were unarmed in public like this,” he commented, holding her arm closer to slow her gait.

Eve pulled back on her stride, reminding herself that her husband sometimes enjoyed strolling along a path, or sidewalk in this case.  “I forgot it.  It didn’t go with the outfit anyhow.”  She frowned at another Illegals pass.
“Not a Leonardo,” he guessed, looking down at her clothing-covered thighs and knees, drawing his gaze back up her body fully hidden except for her bare arms.  “Where did you get this dress?”  His voice struggled to sound complimentary.
Eve pretended to look at a casino’s brilliant light display, hiding her grin.  If she wasn’t half naked in public for a social outing, Roarke felt he’d failed – at least that was what she thought he felt.  “Summerset asked the same thing,” she commented instead, “when he was selecting my jewelry.”  She knew he’d already noted each piece on her, but thought it was nice to point on that she was wearing it.  For him.  “I think it was from my pre-billionaire-boyfriend-days days.”
He didn’t comment, just pressed another kiss to her temple.  “I thought we could fly to a place I know of, after the dinner briefing.”
Eve leaned her head on his shoulder.  “I think that would be very nice.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The Mitszu X-Ray, the over-sized machine which scans all income transpo ships for weaponry was disabled last evening, just in time for the delivery of cluster bombs, land mines, and improvised explosive devices to be used on the war games course.  They will be placed the night before those idiots go out there in the middle of nowhere on this satellite.  My experts have assured me that while the satellite will not experience any damage, the course itself should be devastated.  The live bullets, round balls so like the pathetic paint balls they will use, is already being mixed into their ammunition bags.  I have seen the results of the hits.  You can’t initially tell the difference between the red stain of the paint balls and blood from the body as it takes the bullet inside living tissue.  I had never seen that kind of damage before.
My agents have already begun to increase their sales.  I am emptying my current reserves to instill faith, confidence, in my supply.  Three more nights and my destiny as a ruler of the universe begins.
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Eve held Roarke’s hand and studied the stars.  “I’ve never seen them so beautiful”  she whispered, awed. "Why didn't you show me this before?”
“This area wasn’t safe enough” to risk you, aghra Roarke thought, “the last time you were here.  It’s still closed to anyone but the engineers, a few others.  If you hadn’t insisted on coming here now, I would have convinced you to come in the next few weeks.”  He kissed her fingers.  “Do you recognize any of the constellations?”
“Tell me.  Show me.”  Eve lay her head on his shoulder, content to let him point to the bright lights covering the black velvet of space.  She didn’t see the Chained Maiden, Air Pump, Bird of Paradise, Water Bearer, the Eagle, Altar, Ram, Charioteer, the dozens, maybe hundreds of clusters of stars he pointed out.  Eve’s mind didn’t see the patterns like his.  But she listened to her husband’s voice, the Irish lilt, the rich timbre, and underlying it the voice of a despicably abused little boy who had looked at the stars and wanted to own them.  And maybe he didn’t own a star, but she would believe that he could buy a planet if he wanted.  When he was finally silent, when his arm lowered that had spent the long time pointing to the different areas of the night sky, she whispered,  “I love you, Roarke.”
He was silent for a minute, taking in the words that he lived for, the meaning behind them.  Those words were like the stars to one of the old sailors at sea.  Guiding him.  He thought, gathering the words of Tennyson, then quoted …
“Courage!” he said, and pointed toward the land,
“This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon.”
In the afternoon they came unto a land
In which it seemed always afternoon.
All round the coast the languid air did swoon,
Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
Full-faced above the valley stood the moon;
And like a downward smoke, the slender stream
Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem.

A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke,
Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go;
And some thro’ wavering lights and shadows broke,
Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below.
They saw the gleaming river seaward flow
From the inner land: far off, three mountain-tops,
Three silent pinnacles of aged snow,
Stood sunset-flush’d: and, dew’d with showery drops,
Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse.

The charmed sunset linger’d low adown
In the red West: thro’ mountain clefts the dale
Was seen far inland, and the yellow down
Border’d with palm, and many a winding vale
And meadow, set with slender galingale;
A land where all things always seem’d the same!
And round about the keel with faces pale,
Dark faces pale against that rosy flame,
The mild-eyed melancholy Lotos-eaters came.

Branches they bore of that enchanted stem,
Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave
To each, but whoso did receive of them,
And taste, to him the gushing of the wave
Far far away did seem to mourn and rave
On alien shores; and if his fellow spake,
His voice was thin, as voices from the grave;
And deep-asleep he seem’d, yet all awake,
And music in his ears his beating heart did make.

They sat them down upon the yellow sand,
Between the sun and moon upon the shore;
And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland,
Of child, and wife, and slave; but evermore
Most weary seem’d the sea, weary the oar,
Weary the wandering fields of barren foam.
Then some one said, “We will return no more”;
And all at once they sang, “Our island home
Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.”
Content that he had expressed his heart to Eve, Roarke gazed above them at the stars.
It was perhaps an hour later that he realized she had fallen asleep.
+++++++++++++++++
Eve listened to the rules of engagement.  She had known each of these war games was different, but considering this was her only second one, she was finding out the extent.
First.  Her electronics team, allowed only two, would start at six am, locked in the designated building until they achieved whatever test had been assigned.  It wasn’t just who finished first, but what was judged as the best answers.  The judges were some geek people Roarke assured her were competent and most likely unbiased in their decisions.  
Second.  Target course, standard military stunners, short, medium and long range, targets stationary, moving and assorted. Two members of each team participating.
Third.  Hand to hand with programmed droids, two members again.  This one, for no reason Eve could determine, had a weight limit.  No participant under one hundred fifty pounds.
Fourth.  Distance run.  Ten miles with two members wearing forty pound packs.  Once complete, team members could assist and or replace other team members.
Fifth.  Obstacle course where two team members started and finished together.  The loss of one member to injury meant both were out of the game.
Sixth.  All team member hand to hand.  Every team member would be taken from the course at some point and would be required to show their skills in the martial art or fighting style of his or her choice.
Seventh.  Strength or conditioning test.  They got to do a series of exercises, and the team members were ranked by sheer numbers.  The most pushups won, was the example given.
Eight.  A four member team had to figure out how to cross a hazardous area with a minimum supply dump.  Points were lost for any team member not making it across the designated field.
Nine.  Hazardous conditions.  At any time, in any place, the elements could be changed:  snow, sleet, rain, heat, fog, electrical storm, and anything else the planners of this little party could come up with.
Ten.  Team Leaders would participate in written scenario tests. As soon as they were passed they could help or replace any team member.
And here was the kicker, Eve decided.  Every time some fucking horn was blown, everyone had to make a run for an identified building, which happened to be the one Winslett had used for their little lunch meeting, grab a flag, and then got to run back to whatever they’d been competing in and pick it back up.  She was pretty damn certain Feeney wasn’t going to be able to do that.  Not more than once.  This meant she had to get Calendar up here.  Son of a bitch!
Eve started texting as she headed back to the hotel.
She was still mentally bitching to herself a good three hours later as she got out of the shower and into the drying tube.  Calendar was on the way, Feeney was still pouting and angry, she had Roarke training and probably scaring the hell out of two Major Case Detectives in an effort to make them the best marksmen in history of the NYPSD.  Eve was just about to get dressed, wearing a silk robe, when the elevator doors opened and US Army Commander Ulysses Winslett stepped out.  Holding a bouquet.  Handsome as any woman could want in his Army uniform, blonde hair military short, blue eyes darkened and piercing, he walked to Eve and held out the collection of costly florae. Simply baffled how the man could have bypassed the security and wound up in her bedroom, Eve gaped at him and thought Roarke’s going to kill him and I don’t have the faintest idea how to get a dead body off this floating piece of – when he grabbed her and kissed her.
Davidson had watched the Army Commander enter the penthouse elevator, flowers in hand, unconcerned.  Amused.  The elevator was dedicated for the penthouse suite’s two levels and secured through palm print only.  Even cleaning droids had to be cleared in by Roarke, Eve, Summerset, Pantemen as Roarke’s Chief of Security here on Olympus, the hotel manager or himself.  He called in Pantemen and was pleased with the prompt response of several of the security team.  Now the question was what to do with Ulysses Winslett.  Obviously  he could no longer be trusted alone on satellite with Roarke’s wife, and tailing him when he had his own military unit to deflect and defend would be useless.  The answer was the man needed to be taken off satellite immediately.   He contacted Roarke, feeling a cold bar form in his gut at the other man’s expression as Davidson gave him a brief update.  He and Pantemen began to discuss the most expedient manner of Winslett’s departure when it finally burst through his head that the elevator hadn’t come back down.
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The domestic supply of Illegals has been ended.  Police Chief Darcia will be quite the star as she made the bust herself.  Of course, I had to all but lead her to it.  The tips to her IAB lover these last two days were so painfully obvious.  But competition on satellite seems less than desirable to me, so I have ended it.  My agents are already stepping in to create a distribution of imported product to those more used to that developed here. I feel no guilt in betraying the men who were lords before me, this is after all a business where the king must be the strongest.  I have only proven my strength.  The use by the Customs agency of drug-sniffing and bomb-sniffing dogs to stop smuggling here on Olympus surprised me at first.  Earth has mostly stopped that usage. The animals recognize and locate odors on passengers and their luggage, are even used to sweep cargo.  It has taken me two weeks to inundate them with the citrus scents so they are no longer a threat to my delivery.  I am considering where to make my headquarters once my wealth is obtained.  Not here.  Perhaps a small section of Cuba.  I enjoy the warmer weather on Earth.
They have changed the program for the war game, which means I have to adjust as well. The initial plan has been changed so that the participants will now be separated over the game field.  I am having the IEDs placed around the perimeter to drive them toward the center and the massacre.  With all eyes on the tragedy, my delivery will be achieved without notice.  Success will be mine. In two more days I will be the king.  
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Peabody had just sat down to wait on Dallas, a cup of coffee in hand provided by Summerset, when she heard the noise on the level above her.  She knew the penthouse suite’s layout from previous visits, that the master bedroom was above her. But Roarke was a good half hour away whipping Rabinowitz and Esperanza into sharpshooter shape.  And with soundproofing engaged, this was still a hell of a racket.  She looked over, saw Summerset’s expression flick to concern, and moved.  Taking the stairs two at a time, vaguely noticing that for someone twice their normal body weight the cat had some speed to him as he passed her half way up, Peabody headed for the bedroom.
The double doors were bolted, the locking system engaged.  Without a master card Peabody had no means for easy entrance.  What sounded like a wall being rammed made her go with the hard way.  Using her stunner, she zapped the coding device.  It sizzled.  The doors remained locked.  She hit her link button for assistance.  Then she zapped the device again.  Nothing.  Where was Roarke when you needed him?  He would have been able to get them inside with some fancy gadget.
“Here.”  Summerset moved beside her, attaching slim wires to the electronic panel after tossing aside the fried key and palm pads, looking at a handheld scanner.  It began to run through a series of numbers.  “Contact hotel security,” he ordered her.  They both felt the impact of something hitting the doors.  Hard.
Some sort of alarm was going off throughout the suite.  Peabody began to kick the faux wood metal doors, centering her gravity and body weight for maximum effect.  She could feel her heart beating too fast as Summerset cursed quietly, his voice suddenly heavily accented with the same Irish brogue as Roarke’s at time, and disengaged the wires.  “It’s been overridden.  I can’t disengage the locks.”  They heard the smothered sound of breaking glass.
Peabody kept kicking the doors.  Hold on, Dallas.  I’m coming.
The man had to be on Zeus, Eve thought, watching Winslett pick himself up off the carpet where he’d landed after hitting the bedroom doors.  His eyes were glassy, the pupils contracted, he was sweating heavily, and breathing like he was running a marathon.  The almost superhuman effect of the drug was apparent, and her attacks weren’t slowing him down any although he was bleeding from where she’d connected a good half dozen times.  He wasn’t stopping and he’d somehow managed to lock her into this room with him.  She dodged him, rolling over a couch, tripping over the uniform coat with all its shiny medals that he’d thrown to the floor after throwing her onto the bed following his initial grab and kiss.  She’d almost regained balance when he body slammed her onto the floor, ripping at her robe while either trying to bite her throat or shoulder – she wasn’t staying still long enough to find out which.  Using all her agility, Eve got out from under him, scrambled up.  He caught her ankle over another ridiculously chunky bauble, yanked.  As she went back down, her shoulder and head caught the low table behind her and it tilted violently upward.  Pieces of sculpture, artwork, who gave a shit what it was, went flying through the air to shatter loudly against the wall beside the doors she’d tried to get out of and found locked and unresponsive to voice commands to disengage. Seeing stars, Eve vaguely thought she heard some noise on the opposite side of the wall.
Panting, Winslett lifted her up and carried her to the bed. Planting his knee on her stomach, staring down at her madly, he began ripping off his shirt and tie.  “Your mine,” he told Eve, loosening his belt…
Eve tried to clear her mind, get her body to act.  There was no way she’d come through all she’d fought to make herself in this life to end up back on a bed being raped;  a nobody, nothing.  No way in hell.  But she couldn’t seem to move, frozen in a sudden mixture of being nearly knocked unconscious and the horror of what had happened to her as a child and what was happening now.  Where the hell was her white knight in shining armor?     
And then he was there.  The hotel had never been intended for pets, although they would accommodate their exclusive guests as needed.  When Eve had brought the entire household with them, Roarke had ordered a cat door installed for Galahad in the different rooms of the penthouse. The twelve inch, almost seamless wall doors, working like those of an elevator, opened and closed silently, responding to the cat’s presence through a small electronic chip implanted near the scruff of his wide neck.  The electronics were basic, worked on a prismatic nickel-metal hydride battery that Roarke Industries had developed and should outlast the current century before needing replaced.  They were unaffected by other computerized components in the suite and the entire building.  Galahad came through the cat door and threw himself with feline fury onto the bed. Claws that Summerset hadn’t yet clipped as he’d left the animal scissors back on Earth, ripped through the pants leg over the shoe as the man knelt on his owner.
Winslett cursed and howled in shock, jerking his body back.  Eve rolled, thrust herself toward the side table and snagged her stunner from its holster.  Even as he was coming back down on top of her, she upped the power, twisted and fired.