Chapter 10
Chapter 10
I packed a travel bag at my apartment, then met Shauna at the door to her bar. Her bag was sitting on the curb as she hung a sign on the door which read, "Closed for renovations."
"Renovations?" I asked as I walked up.
"Less likely that people will try to break in," Shauna explained. She lifted her bag. "Nice to see you in pants; I was tired of looking at your scrawny legs. Where to, glorious leader?"
"Time to get a bit more control over our fates," I said, and dialed my cell phone. "Hello, Mr. Maris, please. Tell him that it's Mister Jones; we met over drinks last night, and I wanted to arrange for a small demonstration. I'll hold."
Shauna's eyes had widened. "Will," she said, pulling on my jacket sleeve. "I like living!"
I smiled, and spoke into the phone, "Hello, Aaron. I need a few items from you in order to effect your request. I need plastic and papers." Shauna nodded in sudden comprehension. "We'll be there in ten minutes." I hung up the phone. "If he wants his dirty work done, the least he can do is pay for our travel. Have you ever flown business class?" Shauna shook her head as we headed down towards the Strip.
We entered the Mirage and headed directly for the elevator. We were indistinguishable from the dozens of other couples carrying luggage from the lobby, and exited the elevator on floor three. "Three fixation," I murmured to Shauna.
"March is the third month, genius," Shauna replied, nudging me.
We walked down the hall, and I knocked on the door to room 10317. A brunette in a business suit opened the door as I finished the knock. "Mr. Jones?" she asked. I nodded, and she gestured us inside. "Mr. Maris is out of town, but left a package for you. Come right this way." She sashayed down the hall and led us to an finely appointed conference room. Shauna elbowed me as I stared after her gray-clad posterior. I grinned at Shauna and we walked into the room. Shauna walked to the table and picked up a thick envelope as I wandered around the room. "He's got a print of Picasso’s Guernica,” I said, stopping at the cheapest item in the room, “but it looks like the Greek and Ming vases are real. I believe that statue is actually a Michelangelo. Of course, creepily enough, ll those weapons look like they have real blood,” I continued, gesturing towards the racks ranging opposite the windows.
“Fortunately, Maris isn’t here to demonstrate their use. He did leave us some interesting items, though…” Shauna held up the contents of the envelope. “I don’t think I heard you use my name.”
“I didn’t, why?”
“Well, there is a credit card and a matching passport. For each of us,” Shauna said with a frown. “You also have a love note.”
“I’d rather have a crush on Lucifer,” I snapped as I took the hand- addressed envelope from her. I cracked the wax- seal, and withdrew a piece of linen paper.
“'Dear William,'” I read aloud. “'I hope your taste of true power has left you eager to continue in my employ. You'll find me a most generous god. I look forward to your prompt return, at which point we can negotiate a more permanent arrangement. Please wish your Irish lass well, and be clear: even with her gone, I know where her relatives are. Best wishes, I'm an asshole, blah blah blah.' I may have editorialized that last bit."
"I gathered," Shauna said while she handed me my items. She opened her purse and placed her own documents inside while I flipped open passport. The identification and credit card both carried my real name, and the photo in my passport looked a lot like me, even though I knew I hadn't posed for any pictures lately.
I pocketed my papers, and opened the conference room door. "Oh, pretty lady?" I called out into the hall. The receptionist- slash- secretary- slash- assassin- for- all- I- knew appeared. "Could you please arrange two tickets to Cairo, first class, of course. Earliest flight, passengers named William Jones and Shauna O'Malley, two els."
"Very good, sir." She vanished, and reappeared ten minutes later. "No direct flights were available, but I have you departing from McCarran in four hours, changing in Cincinatti and Frankfurt."
"Excellent, Moneypenny," I replied. I took a certain gleeful pleasure in her confused expression.