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The display flashed.
Incoming call.
This time it was Lev. There was no doubt. With a bowl of plump green olives and a tall glass of red wine, she patiently waited for him to reprimand her, expecting outrage and contempt. Perhaps some threats about how she had missed her chance to learn more about Morgan and his implication in all this. Or perhaps he would pull her off the networks. Attempt to silence her. She didn’t need him anyway. The Red Masks would provide her with access to networks to get her message out. They could do whatever they wanted, and Lev couldn’t stop them.
Incoming call.
She spit out an olive pit and washed down the salty taste with the warmth of her drink. She was more than satisfied to rupture her business relationship with this filthy man.
She answered.
“That was an unfortunate mistake,” he said.
“I told the truth.”
“The truth, hmm...”
“I could’ve done worse. You could thank me for that.”
“I’ll pass,” he said. The calmness in his voice was irritating her. She imagined him in his office puffing on his fat cigar. She could even feel the smoke irritating the back of her throat. “You realize this will erupt into something ugly, don’t you?”
“The president could ask Dignified Unity to protect The Virt. If that’s what he really wants. Or is it?”
“That can’t happen. The president needs someone he can trust,” he said.
“Like trusting them to take over Paris too?”
“Hmmm.... That’s nonsense,” he said.
“I have a contact,” she said. “From the Paris Decision Center. Your people were sent into his office prior to the attack.”
“Give me his name.”
“Why should I?”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t,” he said. “I don’t need his name. Whatever he told you was total bullshit.”
“Don’t play me, Lev. I know what you’re up to. Does Brad Monet ring a bell?”
“Sure, I know Brad. One of the best. A very sincere guy despite his tough looks.”
“What was he doing in Paris?” she asked.
“He wasn’t in Paris,” Lev said, letting that hang a moment. “He’s never been there. I can guarantee it. Brad is a total baby when it comes to flying. Wouldn’t come to protect me when we were overseas.” He paused. Aviva stayed silent, not wanting to play this game. “It’s not my intention to humiliate you, Aviva. We don’t agree on many issues, but this didn’t have to interfere in our work relation. You got sloppy. Your mistrust of me blinded you from the facts.”
Aviva felt her confidence leak into the fissures of her doubt. She couldn’t deny that her thinking had been muddled by the stress, but she still couldn’t pinpoint what she was missing.
“Did you get your informer to do a background check of this French person who claims to work at the Decision Center?” he said. “Any good reporter knows that you must always check sources...Right? Your source checks out... Right? It’s especially important for sensitive information. Tell me you checked him before reporting those fallacies.”
She considered Jacques Duffy, the strange man with whom she had analyzed the Paris skyline. Why hadn’t she done a background check on him? Her time had been limited, but that wasn’t an excuse to overlook him. Everything she had done was based on the list of names he had given her. Lev was right; she had been sloppy.
“Did your informer check to see if Brad actually spent any time in Paris?”
No, she had taken that as a given. Seb had focused on the background checks, like she had asked him to. To fill in the gap that had been perfectly laid out...like a trap.
“We’ve been played,” said Lev. “Not just you. Both of us. We walked into it blindly. They knew all along what would happen in New York. They knew how the president would call on his buddies to protect The Virt. They foresaw the imminent clash with Dignified Unity. They knew how I would want someone to quell the tension. Someone like you that opposed the president and that people trusted. They played you, pressuring you just right, using your distrust for me to easily make you pivot. They pressured you, didn’t they? To make sure you weren’t thinking straight. I know how these things work. They pressured you somehow, right?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. He knew everything.
“I’m impressed. I really am,” he said. “Makes you wonder how many decisions we make, believing they are from our own free will, but that are actually manipulations from people smarter than us.” She could hear him laughing softly in admiration. “They’ve beat me at my own game. If that doesn’t worry you, I don’t know what will.”
“Lev,” she said, wanting him to stop praising them. “What can I do...to fix this?”
“It’s too late now,” he said. “The fighting has already started. Any chance of stopping a clash has been missed.”
“There must be something...anything.” she insisted.
“They cleared a path for us, and we followed it like fools,” he said. “They got exactly what they wanted. I’ll give you one piece of advice going forward. This isn’t just for you. It’s for me too. From now on, consider every single action you plan to make, and ask yourself if someone else may be wanting you to do it for them. Sit low, watch and learn, because they are clever...much too clever.”
***
Aviva poured her wine down the sink, unable to stomach anything but water. She asked the display to contact Jacques Duffy. The display returned a RESIDENT NOT FOUND message. She called Gambino.
“What can I do for you, Aviva?” He appeared on the display, smiling as always.
“I need to find a contact. Someone in the bunkers with us.”
“What’s the name?”
“Jacques Duffy.”
“Give me a second,” he said. She waited, knowing what to expect. “There’s nobody by that name in the register.”
“Is it possible you don’t have it on your list?”
“I was given a database of the 18,586 people in the bunkers with age, gender, and any other information that could help me in their therapy. I don’t see why they would have left out anyone. Are you sure he’s here?”
“No... I’m pretty sure he isn’t,” she said.
She didn’t need Gambino to tell her this guy didn’t exist. She knew she had messed up terribly. But she couldn’t accept that she was powerless to change things. She felt the need to attempt to fix her mistake. Let the world know that the Bold and Brave had never been in Paris.
What would happen if she admitted to messing up this badly? Discrediting herself as a journalist and compromising her usefulness with the Red Masks. She was disposable to them. She didn’t care. Even if what she would say changed little in the outcome of the conflict and endangered her, she would at least try.
She entered the studio. It was empty. The camera, the holographic of the city, the bench, it had all disappeared. Had the Red Masks already decided she was no longer useful? The lighting along the walls faded to a red glow. Scared, she turned to leave the room. The door that should have been behind her was gone. The space transformed, extending into a deeper rectangular room. At the far end sat a man, his legs crossed on a cushion, a shawl wrapped around him covering his shoulders and knees. He was like an ancient monk, the outlines of his face defined by the red glow of the lights.
“Wonderful,” he said, his voice echoing in the empty oblong room. With an open hand, he offered her a cushion by his side. “Please, come take a seat.”
“What do you want? Why are you doing this?”
“Sit, sit.” She sat, crossed legged by his side, and he continued, “I’m preparing for a better future.”
“Provoking war in the streets is not building anything.”
“You’re mistaken. It is the necessary pain to get where I want us to go. You can’t deny that it was just a matter of time before they started shooting at each other with their powerful guns.” He considered her a moment, with his steady and deep stare. “We accelerated the process, to get it over and done with. I must say, you’ve played a commendable part in this acceleration.”
“What else do you want from me?”
“I thought that I’d be done with you after this. But your friend Morgan is quite interesting to me.”
“Leave him out of this. He has nothing to do with you.”
“You are very wrong again. He is indeed very special to me and can help me in this grand project of mine.”
“He will never help you,” she said.
“Don’t worry if you are confused. We shall discover more about him soon,” he said. “You are curious, aren’t you?”
“Don’t do anything to him...please,” she said.
“Don’t beg, it’s childish,” he said. “When he comes to see you, enjoy the moment. It may well be your last time together.”
“He won’t come back,” she said.
“He loves you, doesn’t he?” The man examined Aviva, upset. “I hope you don’t doubt that he will come back. The few certainties we have should be held like precious treasures. He will come back for you. There is no doubt.”
He reached over and placed a hand on her knee.
“Rest until then. You will need it.”
She looked down at the hand resting on her knee and radiating warmth.
Her head was heavy. She couldn’t keep her eyes open. She fell asleep.
