The Lives of Tao

CHAPTER FOUR

THE HUNT



Sean Diamont studied his smartphone, tapping his foot to the beeps of the elevator as it raced up Willis Tower. While everyone else watched the changing numbers like lemmings, he didn’t bother. He knew exactly when to get off. To him, every moment in life was part of a chess game. One that he played four steps ahead of everyone else. Events could be measured in patterns and sequences. By recognizing and understanding how and when things happened, Sean found that he could live life very efficiently, exactly how Chiyva wished.

Sean first learned the will of his Holy One when Chiyva found him in the jungles of Vietnam. Back then, he was an undisciplined, delinquent youth whom his parents had shipped off to the army. He was so difficult to train that he was almost dishonorably discharged during boot camp. No one expected Sean to return from the war alive.

Chiyva found the eighteen year-old soldier during an intense firefight that left his platoon dead and Sean captured by the enemy. At first, the boy thought himself mad from captivity when his Holy One first spoke. Then, after many months, he realized God had sent an angel to watch over him. Chiyva taught him how to survive the prison camp, how to read the patterns in the guards’ patrols, and how to probe for weaknesses in the prison. Together, they hatched an escape plan. Sean wandered in the jungle for three weeks, surviving off the land, until he eventually made his way to friendly forces. Sean never questioned the Genjix again. He led the rescue party back to the prison camp and received a Congressional Medal of Honor, making him a war hero.

Once back in the States, Sean later obtained a law degree from Northwestern University. He was now a managing partner at one of the largest law firms in the country. Not bad for a young rebel who almost didn’t finish high school.

The elevator beeped for the fifty-fourth time and without waiting, Sean exited just as the doors opened. His eyes never left his smartphone as he walked five steps forward, twelve to the left through the glass doors, fifty-three to the right to his corner office. This was Chiyva’s way, efficiency without errors. This was how Sean escaped the prison, how he reached the pinnacle of society, and how he became one of the leading senior Genjix in the world.

Sean tore his gaze from his work long enough to wink at his secretary as she handed him a stack of documents, never slowing his pace as he proceeded into his office. She grabbed her notebook and followed. Sean hated pen and paper note-taking. It was slow, clumsy, and inaccurate. Meredith had never made the transition to a computer like the rest of civilization. However, her tenure and loyalty to him were indispensable. It would take years to train a new secretary to her level of knowledge of his work.

She also knew about the Genjix and the true nature of their mission. Sean had a level of trust with her that he could never risk replacing. Therefore, he resigned himself to her slow note-taking. He hung his jacket, sat in his chair, and logged onto his computer, listening to her updates as she rambled down the list.

“...and your 3 o’clock has been pushed back to Tuesday,” she was saying. “Your sister’s birthday is next week. I went ahead and ordered a bouquet of flowers and a card. Do you want to order new winter tires for her? It’s been a brutal winter. Your junior associate needs to meet to discuss the Burton merger due diligence. I blocked Wednesday at 10 o’clock for that. You have a meeting with the CEO of Engras Enterprise at 2 o’clock to discuss the government contract for military equipment. And Devin Watson called and requested you contact him at your convenience.”

Sean raised an eyebrow at the last name mentioned. He thought through his responses, giving each their proper due, before turning to Meredith and dictating in rapid succession as she scribbled in her notebook. “Ask the CEO of Engras – Nick, isn’t it? – to move our meeting to 7 o’clock over drinks at the Palmer House, and order a bottle of the ‘93 Cheval Blanc he likes. See if you can get some run-flat tires this time instead of that garbage you ordered two years ago. Also, block out the rest of my afternoon.” He hid his rising irritation as she frantically tried to keep up.

“Is there anything else?” she asked when she caught up.

“A cup of coffee in fifteen minutes.” And then he waved her off.

Sean waited until she closed the door behind her and then pushed a button under his desk. The room began to hum with a deep resonating modulation. The resonance would block any listening devices aimed toward his office. Sean was sure there were no Prophus spies working at the firm, but one could never be too careful. The humming increased in pitch until eventually, he heard nothing. Satisfied, Sean turned on his video phone and called Devin. After three rings, Devin’s face appeared on the screen.

“Brother Sean. Chiyva.”

“Father.”

Devin Watson was an elderly man with a full head of white hair and a long trimmed beard. His face was weathered and scarred from years of battle and conflict, but his eyes shined with wisdom and fanatical devotion. He was also the hemisphere’s senior Councilman and one of Sean’s few direct superiors. His Holy One, Zoras, was a dominant Genjix who had occupied some of the most powerful and influential individuals in history. And to the Genjix, that equated to rank and seniority.

“Did we receive a response from the mayor?” Devin lit a cigar and puffed on it.

“I’m afraid so.” Sean leaned toward the screen. “He can’t convince the city council or the state legislature to allow us to build an offshore platform on Lake Michigan, at least not one with our security requirements. Even with his influence, there are too many questions being raised about the general purpose, and our geological research scenario is being challenged by the environmentalists.”

Devin grimaced and took another puff. “This will hinder our manufacturing operations in the Midwest. You need to go back and remind the mayor who put him in office.”

Tell him the alternative.

“There may be another solution,” Sean suggested carefully. “The mayor has always been a friend and grateful for our contributions. He has offered, as an alternative, the use of land just east of Northerly Island.”

Devin frowned, took another puff of the cigar, and looked off the screen, presumably at a map. “Underwater?”

“Exactly, Father,” Sean continued. “We take the operation twenty meters underwater off the coast. The mayor has offered the option to build the facility there and connect it to the surface through underground tunnels. Airborne operations can occur at night, and the mayor has assured me that we will not require an audit from the municipal or state government. Basically, everything we need, just not as we had initially planned.”

“And the cost?” With Devin, it always came down to cost.

Sean pulled up a file on his computer and scanned through its contents. Satisfied, he turned back toward the screen and smiled. “I just sent you the summary information. The costs are well within the original parameters, maybe two to three per cent higher, due to the need to drill underwater, but not more than five. The short term costs will be higher because of the underwater construction, but we will save in the long run because we will not need to mask the facility from the public.”

“Excellent. I’ll review these numbers and get back to you. Good work, Sean. I’ll expect a project timeline this week. Make sure the critical path does not extend past eighteen months. I expect to go into mass production within eighteen months.”

“Of course, Father. Is there anything else?”

Devin took another deep puff. The smoke was so thick that it obscured the screen. Sean wondered if the old man was trying to kill himself with all those cigars. Or was it his Holy One?

Do not think sacrilegiously.

“Apologies, Chiyva, I meant no disrespect.”

“Yes.” Devin leaned closer to the screen. “What is the status with the break-in at the research base? How does it affect us?”

Sean shrugged. “They know of the program now. As to whether they know what it is designed for? I’m sure they will discern it in time. They were only able to infiltrate our archives. The stolen blueprints were from an earlier failed design; it is a complete dead end, but will occupy them for a year or two before they realize that. We lost one vessel to the Eternal Sea, Yrrika, and we gained a defector. They lost Edward Blair.”

“Blair, huh. They must have wanted the blueprints badly to send him. And Tao?”

“Escaped, but we have some strong leads on his new vessel. I have a briefing with the kill team momentarily, as a matter of fact.”

Devin scowled. “That’s too many resources to expend on a new vessel. You should be focusing your efforts on a Class A target like Haewon operating in your area. Tao’s nothing more than a thorn in the side.”

“It’s Tao,” Sean replied flatly. “Chiyva wills it, I obey.”

“As you should always obey, Sean.” Devin chuckled. “But don’t let Chiyva’s grudges dictate your priorities, Sean.”

“I am only the instrument of the Holy Ones,” Sean replied. “Haewon’s trail has grown cold anyway. She hasn’t been on radar since the Katrina cover-up.”

“Haewon should still be the priority if her vessel ever materializes, understand?”

“Of course, Father. The kill team has orders to hunt both.”

“Who is leading them?”

“Why, one of their own.”

Devin nodded. “Yes, our double-crossing mole who alerted us to their raid. You mentioned the defection in your last report. Who was it, Jeo’s vessel? Were we able to acquire any solid information on the Prophus network?”

“Not as much as we would like. He was not privy to higher security systems. However, Jeo assisted in the designing of many of their older networks and we are exploring those options. Who better to hunt Prophus than someone who is familiar with their protocols?”

“Good, good. Keep me informed.”

Sean kept watching the screen after it turned black. Regardless of what Devin said, Sean knew where Chiyva’s priority lay. His Holy One had made that abundantly clear. Tracking Tao’s new host was not going to be easy. The Prophus were slippery with their new hosts. Chances were he had already gone into hiding.

The Genjix were having an increasingly difficult time tracking Prophus movements ever since their last major conflict in Brazil when the Prophus-backed ruling party fell. The Prophus had been on the defensive ever since, the noose tightening around them bit by bit as they lost more and more engagements. They were now more covert than ever.

A renegade Prophus might give the Genjix better prospects, though. It had been over half a century since the last defection, so it was a rare opportunity to utilize someone who had experience with the inner workings of the Prophus.

“Just waiting for you to stick your head out, little rabbit…” Sean’s voice trailed off as he drummed his fingers along the desk. “We’ll have a net waiting for you.” He pushed the button on his intercom. “Meredith, is my 10 o’clock here yet?”

“Yes, Sean. He’s been waiting for you.”

“Send him in.”

Marc walked into his office and sat down in the chair opposite Sean. Looking like he just got out of bed, Marc wore a brown golf shirt and a pair of worn blue jeans. Sean gave him one cursory glance and began typing on his computer.

Fifteen minutes passed before Sean said another word. “I trust your new quarters are to your liking?”

Marc shrugged. “Sure beats the hell out of what I had before.”

“And your stipend is adequate.”

Marc nodded.

Sean gave Marc a hard look. “Good, then you will wear a suit and be dressed appropriately whenever you are in this office. This is still a law firm, and you’re a fool if you think your appearance today didn’t raise eyebrows. Do I make myself clear?”

Startled, Marc bowed in response.

Sean went back to his work on the computer. “Now, you have a chance to prove your worth to us. Your standing is low and since you failed to deliver Tao, you’re still on shaky ground. This will be your chance to rectify that. Follow me.” Sean grabbed his jacket and strolled out of his office, tapping Meredith’s desk as he passed by. She followed close behind with pen and paper in hand. Marc, unused to Sean’s methods, had to hurry to catch up.

“Are my people in place?” Sean asked.

Meredith nodded. “The personnel you requested were all contacted last night. All flew in this morning, with the exception of two who are still on missions for the Vatican. They will arrive later this week.”

“Excellent.” Forty steps down this hall, left turn, five steps forward, right turn, nine steps echoed in the back of his mind.

Meredith struggled to keep up while reading her notes. “They are waiting in your private meeting room.”

Sean walked down the hallway to an elevator and stopped at the door. He stared at the closed doors. It bothered him that the elevator was not waiting for him. It was a small matter which Meredith would have to address. He turned irritably toward her and shook his head. “Fix this.” She understood exactly what he meant.

The elevator door opened. Sean and Marc walked in while Meredith stood outside, still scribbling in her notebook. Sean waited for her to catch up before he spoke again. “We need to have our contact in the IRS run those checks on the paper trails. The Prophus are good at hiding their own, and this trail can’t be allowed to get cold. I don’t care if flags are raised. I want validated information on my desk tonight.”

She nodded. “Anything else?”

The nephew and the anniversary.

“Of course, I was wrong to forget, Chiyva.”

You must be aware of all things, Sean. Only then can you inspire others through control.

“Apologies, Holy One.”

Sean smiled at her and spoke, “I know your nephew is in the hospital for an appendectomy. Be assured that the bill has been seen to. Also, please convey my congratulations on your wedding anniversary. You may leave at 5 o’clock today.”

The elevator door closed before she could reply. This time, Sean did not bother counting the beeps as the elevator sped down to the basement to a secret Genjix safe house. A few minutes later, he entered a private room deep underground. The fifteen people waiting for him stood up when he entered. He nodded to a few of them and ignored the rest. They knew who he was, and that was the only thing that mattered.

There were five Genjix among them. Two were newly raised enforcers whom Sean trusted enough for mid-level missions. Three were older Genjix assigned to assist with confirmation of the vessel. While their technology was advanced enough to track Quasing outside a vessel, there was still no reliable method of detecting a Quasing within a vessel other than through physical contact by another vessel. At least, not yet. Standard vessels were too valuable to expend on a surveillance team, but Chiaolar, Heefa, and Iku’s vessels were old and no longer fit for active fieldwork. This mission would be a perfect way to utilize these resources. The Genjix did not waste.

Sean nodded to Marc, who took a seat next to him. The rest were humans with ambitions to become vessels, hoping to prove themselves worthy enough to be blessed. This mission would be the perfect test to see which one of them was the most deserving.

“Praise to the Holy Ones,” Sean said, taking a seat.

“Praise to the Holy Ones,” those in the room intoned.

“Some of you I know, and the rest of you aren’t worth knowing until you prove yourself,” he started off. “There are two more operatives on their way, once their duties elsewhere are concluded.” Sean clicked a button on the table and the room dimmed. A screen on the far wall turned on and an image of Edward appeared.

“This is the Prophus agent Edward Blair, killed last night infiltrating our Hancock research facility. His Prophus, Tao, is a senior player in the conflict. Notable vessels: Genghis Khan, Lafayette, and Sun Yat-sen.”

A picture of a dark-skinned woman appeared next to Edward. “This is Stephanie Qu, operating under an unknown alias. Her Prophus, Haewon, is one of their primary rainmakers. Notable vessels: Churchill, Voltaire, and Peter the Apostle.

“We have fresher leads on Tao, so that will be your primary focus. Security forces tracked him to a large male under two meters, heavyset, with dark hair. Possible ethnicities could be Latino, Asian, or he could just be fond of the tanning bed. The target escaped driving a white sedan believed to be American-made, most likely a Ford, a four-seater model made within the past five years. Unfortunately, there were no cameras in the vicinity to record the information.

“Your mission is to track and confirm the new vessel. The Prophus hide their people well. Obviously they have already washed any relevant data in the government systems, so scan for those characteristics. I want passive surveillance until he is located. Then physical confirmation must be made and the vessel captured alive. I don’t care if you put him in a coma, as long as he is still breathing. Also, put surveillance on Edward’s family. Knowing how sentimental the Prophus are, Tao’s new host is bound to pay a visit one of these days.”

“White car and a short fat guy? Not much to work with,” Marc said.

“If this were easy, I would have just pulled up his address by now and kicked down his door myself,” Sean growled.

“What about DMV records?” one of the humans asked. “There can’t be that many white sedans in the city.”

“The Prophus aren’t stupid.” Marc shook his head. “Even if you locate the right car, all their records will have been washed, the license plate will lead to a dead end. The Social Security number was probably wiped within an hour of Tao finding a new host. Bank records, medical records, everything would have been altered by now.”

“Will we have access to Homeland Security’s camera network?” Iku’s host asked.

Sean nodded. “You will have complete access to the entire city. I expect active monitoring on the entire grid from 7am to 7pm every day.”

“Those cameras are in black and white,” someone stated the obvious. “A white car will be difficult to tell apart from other light-colored cars. It’ll be a needle in a haystack.”

“I didn’t say the task was going to be simple. Earning the right to a Holy One requires your diligence. Prove you are worthy,” snapped Sean.

“Why not monitor the city around the clock?” Marc asked. “Maybe he works at night. We can put a few resources on the night shift.”

Sean shook his head. “We’re paying fifty grand an hour for this access. There’s a global recession going on here, people. Even we are affected. You’ll have access only from seven till seven.”

Marc whistled in disbelief at the cost.

“What is the mission timeline?” asked Amber, one of the enforcer vessels.

“As long as it takes. However, I will be displeased if I receive a billion-dollar bill on my desk. See that our quarry is captured sooner rather than later. No doubt the Prophus are hard at work readying this vessel. As you all know, a new vessel is the most vulnerable in the early stages, so time is of the essence. The longer this takes, the more difficult it will be for you to take him down. Furthermore, we’re in a major city so the rules of engagement are limited. I want this quiet. We don’t need another LA riot to cover up our war. We do not need the heat. Anything else?” No one said a word.

Sean stood up. “You have your orders. All relevant intelligence is being transferred to your accounts right now. Let me remind you of the critical nature of this assignment. Both Haewon and Tao are considered high-priority targets who are in the upper Prophus echelon. For now, focus on Tao. He is at his weakest right now. We might not have another chance to take him out permanently. Brother Marc will be leading this team. He has intimate knowledge of Prophus protocols and operates with my authority. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Father,” the group chorused.

Sean nodded and left the room. He would leave it to Jeo to sort through the details. It’d also be a good test of Jeo’s loyalties and competence as well. The two enforcers already had instructions to put a bullet in his head if he did something unacceptable. Marc would accomplish the mission and deliver this Prophus, or die trying. He walked down the hall and pushed the button to activate the elevator, again fuming at the need to wait. Meredith better have this taken care of very soon, anniversary or no anniversary.