Jenny Plague-Bringer(93)
“Work...with you? How?” She looked up at him, wiping her eyes.
“We’d begin with basic scientific tests, studying and measuring your precognitive ability, and unraveling what makes it tick. Wouldn’t it be nice to understand yourself better?”
“I suppose it could.” Mariella nodded and gave him a weak smile.
“In time, you might have assignments. Protecting NATO interests, including Italy. We might send you to read the future of a specific influential person, for example.”
Mariella thought it over. “So...I would be a spy?”
“Essentially. But we would need your absolute loyalty.”
“I’ve always wanted to be a spy. Is that silly?” Mariella gave an embarrassed giggle.
“Not to me. You would be on our side, the good guys working against the evil in the world. Secret missions, traveling in disguise. Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes!” Mariella’s eyes lit up, and she tried to sound as naive and impressed as possible. “Do you mean it? You want me for that?”
“We think you would make an excellent agent,” he continued, really laying it on thick. “Young, intelligent, well-bred, educated...and a very useful power in your hands. Will you work with us?”
Mariella gaped at him for a long moment.
“Is that a yes?” he finally asked.
“Oh, yes, please, of course, sir!” She bounced in her chair as if she couldn’t contain herself. “What’s my first mission?”
He laughed. “Decorate your room. We’re moving you out of the cellblock and into more comfortable quarters. We have your overnight bag from Carnac waiting for you. Just let us know what else you need.”
“Egyptian cotton sheets.”
“Excuse me?”
“At least twelve hundred thread count, and they must be organic, or it’s just not comfortable,” Mariella said. “I’ll make you a list of everything I need once I see the accommodations.”
Ward rubbed the side of his head. “Not a problem.”
“Do I get a secret spy name? Or a code number?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“What kind of spying will I do?”
“Your first job is to call your parents and let them know you’re safe,” he said. “Tell them you took a semester off to study Alpine folk music, or whatever bullshit you have to tell them, so they aren’t calling every police agency in France searching for you.”
“Oh, yes, sir! I’ll come up with something. Something very clever.” She winked.
“Good. The guards will show you to your new room. Any more questions?”
“Only a million!” Mariella said. “But I can wait, I see you’re busy.” She bounced out of her chair and smiled over her shoulder as she approached the door.
The guards brought her to the largest room on a dormitory hall that had no other residents. They showed her the common area and bathroom, both of which she had to herself for now. She was certain that she was being monitored with hidden cameras. The general was treating her well, but that didn’t mean he trusted her. She certainly didn’t trust him. He was probably just worried about her family’s influence. If they learned an American agency had kidnapped their daughter, it would only take one phone call from her grandfather to elevate the complaint to NATO...which explained why the general was being so nice to her.
She sat down on her new bed as the three guards left, snickering to herself for insisting on organic Egyptian sheets. She’d give him a laundry list of luxury items, playing the spoiled rich girl. If he thought she was shallow and empty-headed, he’d probably find her less suspicious.
Her mind boiled over with strong memories from this same hall. This room had belonged to Alise, not to her. Mariella supposed she was now the hallway fuehrer.
Mariella had once shared a smaller room down the hall with Jenny, when their names were Mia and Juliana. She smiled to herself at the memory. She could almost hear Duke Ellington’s orchestra echoing softly in her ears, tinged by the scratchy crackle of a phonograph record.
She smiled as the memory welled up inside her.
* * *
“Juliana,” Mia whispered, shaking the sleeping girl’s arm with her gloved hand. It was a Saturday, a few minutes after midnight. “Juliana, you have to wake up!”
“What’s happening?” Juliana’s eyes opened just a sliver. The room was dim, lit only by a single small lamp in the corner. Without it, the underground chamber was dead black.
“I have to tell you something,” Mia whispered.
“What is it? Are you hurt?” Juliana leaned up on elbow to look at Mia, who knelt on the floor by Juliana’s bed.