I thought, now this has got to work. Now I'm going to get that facility down somehow. Just as soon as I organize sixteen thousand different things again and see if it goes the way I had planned. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I was sitting behind my desk in my enormous office, still in Monaco. Work kept me busy, and I had still a lot to do, but as always, I knew that I would get it done.
Working as the boss of a global resistance movement like this is bloody exhausting, and after a European gig, of which I was a Marrok half the time when Bran was poisoned and went into a coma. For some reason, I always become a marrok then, and it's no fun when you feel like the werewolves of the world are talking in your head at the same time, and everyone has an equally urgent or terrible problem to solve.
I am usually in those jobs very much focused on fight clubs, meaning my rage is more or less on all the time, but as Marrok, that is not an option when you are connected to thousands of werewolves and your rage could set them off. So it took much out of me, to keep my rage under control. Letting it be out enough that I could win those fight clubs but not let burn itself in my mind to the extent that it would leak to others.
I was still in Monaco, and my recovery was going well. I had put on a lot of weight and regained a lot of fitness. I continued to persevere in the flea work, even though Charles and Adam were starting to get some time off from the marrok work. Like I said, this was my organization and there had been times when I could not do any kind of work, so now I had my time and health to do this.
I'd gotten in heat almost as soon as the gig was over, but it was fucking painful. Not so impossible than that awful one, but the pain had started, and the heat was almost right away and having sex when pain tore through your abdomen was just awful.
So bad heat again and ended after two weeks with a uterine infection, so Adam and Charles had to cut my uterus out, and a new one would come when it did. It had been a close call to get it out again. Samuel had been called away in India and Damon did not answer his phone, so these two fine doctors got me through that just fine.
It had been so full of pus that as soon as they had lifted it out of me and put it on the dish; it had ruptured there. they would not know when I would grow a new one, as I had not started to yet grow one.
Now I was trying to get another one of Sark's facilities down. First, I'd have to find where it is. Then do some reconnaissance and come up with a destruction plan, then get a crew to do it, and then start going over everything with this crew. And that wasn't the only facility I was focused on.
As I said, being a boss is a tough job, and even though Charles always tells me to delegate, I can't and won't delegate everything. However, this is my organization. Because if there is a mistake, I am the one responsible, and lives may be lost. I don't want the trip to Lake Lanier. No more losses, even though I knew that it was an impossible wish, but not if I could help it.
The warm voice that was like melted chocolate got me to lift my gaze from the satellite pictures in front of me. "Hey, Mimi honey, do you have a minute? I have a contact that would probably be very useful for that Sark facility?"
Charles came into the room. He looked at me worriedly, and I guessed that I was about to be told to either go to the kitchen to have a decent meal for a change or do something else for a while. He was gorgeous as ever, but the hint of annoyance flashed in his eyes and a slight wrinkle between his brows told me about his worry over me.
"Yeah, have your contact call me, and I'll look into it," I said absentmindedly.
Charles came to sit down on the other side of the table to the chair, crossing his legs lazily. He was quiet for a few minutes and then spoke, with a calm voice, but there was his determination and dominance now visible.
"That's the thing when this contact wants to meet, and since you're so resolute about getting that facility down and destroyed, how about we take a brief road trip? Let's go meet the contact, and if that doesn't help, well, at least we get to spend some time alone." Charles said.
He expected me to say yes. I looked at him. I didn't feel like arguing, so I thought, fine, let's go for a drive and meet some guy again who is probably well impressed with my organization at first and compliments me, but let's give the information to Charles and talk to him like I'm air. I had done this thing before, especially with Charles's contacts. This was just how it usually went. They were much too macho to even talk to me.
After all, I'd had enough contacts to meet. My involvement would be more of a formality, a means of getting information from the contact. I put up with it, even though it wasn't my favorite thing to do. The PR side of my work.
It was funny how I saw this as my work even though I did not get any official pay from this or I had no work hours, This was one thing that had gotten me rich, of course, me being the best sniper and assassin in the world is then another thing that had enabled my riches to accumulate.
The fact was, I was insanely rich and I could have easily just been and lived. There was no need to risk my life over humans, but this was more a vocation and hobby than a means of making a living. And it was also a big deal to get justice in the world. Make a difference, being a hero and all that shit. At least how Adam and Charles sometimes see this. But I was an adrenaline junkie and in missions, I felt alive.
"Fine, let's go then if that's all you have and your contact is ready to meet," I said, shutting my laptop, putting my satellite pictures in a neat stack, organizing my desk, and getting up.
As we went downstairs, in the lobby, I took my jacket, my phone, and my bag. I always carry a gun in my bag. Always and it is loaded. You can never be too sure. Similarly, I slipped another gun into my jacket's inside pocket and ensured the knives were in place. You can never be too well equipped. I had learned this the hard way and even though Charles's contents were reliable and good; I had my suspicions nowadays about every new person.
It was not always had that been the way. Once upon a time, I had been quite damn trustful, and I did not suspect every damn person that I met, but years taught me and taught me well. I did not regard everyone as enemies.
I was not that paranoid, but I used my pretender side, quite a damn lot, to see if someone was lying to my face. And if they are, it was the first alarm. There had been times when someone had lied to me in order to impress me but then again, I had been poisoned too, so healthy paranoia, as I called it, was something that was quite useful in my work.
I got into Charles's car as he knew where his contact was and I was not going to even ask any questions. Charles drove, and I used my phone to fine-tune some gigs and send out kill lists. It felt like my workload was never-ending. it really felt like it. Even though the fleas had gotten a lot done, I had gotten a lot done. We had exposed the drug facilities to the media. They were in congressional investigations, so there were plenty of them. And it was far from all over America.
The whole world was full of them. We tried to get every country where we could, just some kind of network that could expose these facilities to the media, but they had become more cautious as we had brought the American facilities to light.
I had no time to go into every damn country in the world and get to the bottom of it. I did what I could and if I was in Europe, sure I might focus on things on their end more, but we were a worldwide organization and I had a lot of stuff in my hands. So many decisions and even Adam and Charles were both on fleas too. This was grown so freaking big organization that it was difficult to manage. So when I started to work, it felt that there was stuff for years for me to empty my desk, so to speak.
Because we had gotten so many open facilities destroyed, and found, they had set up shop in abandoned buildings and old factories, but we had gotten so good at disposing of them so they had evolved too. Now, those facilities were in bunkers, hidden. In tough places to destroy. And they were more cautious. I'd just have to continue to be persistent and watch. There would always be a corner to strike from. Just keep your eyes peeled. You needed to watch so many things and as we were nothing official, our ways were less effective than those used by authorities, but then again, nowadays authorities have to be tight about announcing every single move they make to somewhere up higher.
And corruption was one thing that we fought against, too. Because illegal drug trials, experiments, and torture made money and humans were greedy, many politicians were working for the wrong side and if they got a whiff that some facility was being investigated what brought money to them, they protected it and warned them.
Spoiling the authorities' chance to get justice. Meaning it was our job to strike those places and put an end to them. This got me a lot of enemies inside governments of the world too and there were all kinds of things that certain types would like to do to me. And for many reasons, too.
We got there in about an hour or two. I wasn't paying much attention to where we were going while I was working. I knew I could probably take a breather now and then, but only when the endless to-do list in my head was less demanding. As the car stopped, Charles gave me an irritated look when I put the phone down.
"I'm glad you had the nerve to leave it for this meeting, Mimi. You know, we could have had a chat on this drive, but, no, you're glued to your phone or computer these days. Isn't the whole idea of a big organization to give those jobs to other people? Let Magnum do the job of organizing the gigs again for a while and take a breather. You're still not quite recovered enough. You should remember, Mimi, that your health comes first."
Charles preached. his voice was tight with irritation and he was so close to doing something to stop me from working.
I was 59 kilos, recovering well from the Europe gig because I was 24 kilos when it was over. As for Magnum and work, the gentleman was going through lady time again when work was not so much on his mind. I was glad that Charles cared for me. I was, but I just had to do all of these things before I could ease off.
I didn't bother to mention it to Charles, because he would have persistently cataloged, even through all the fleas, to find a replacement for me. I sighed, grabbed Charles by the arm, and leaned on him as we headed toward the big factory.
He explained to me who were going to meet. This was a woman, one of his good friends, and definitely on the good side. Charles praised her almost all the time for what it took us to saunter to the big door of this huge factory.
Charles's contact was the manager of one of the good pharmaceutical companies. They were a competitor of Sark's, and he said they had a good idea of where the facility might be. They also wanted to show me some drugs and equipment they had scored at a foreclosure auction they had just held for supplies for one of the pharmaceutical plants that had just been uncovered.
They said they would start to focus on the panicking pharmaceuticals and their antidotes, but did not know the drugs. He had told this manager about my reaction to those drugs and she had been aware that humans have similar reactions and they were willing to dedicate a whole section to studying those drugs and minimizing the effects.
The only problem was that they had no experience with those drugs and no knowledge of what drugs would do anything. They hoped that I could identify those panic pharmaceuticals and other drugs that were. They had heard about dreams, and those drugs too, but evil companies did not label their stuff by name but by numbers, so I could probably smell dreams right away. I could then see if there were any suitable ones in those drugs.
We went in, and Charles' contact turned out to be a tall woman, looking remarkably like Geena Davis, and led us into her office, where we had coffee. Coffee was not good, it tasted old, but I sipped my cup fast and politely while Charles and this woman talked to each other about some old-time thing.
After we had the coffee, she addressed me, "I'm going to have a couple of scientists from over there come and take you, Mimi, to look at those drugs while I run Charles through these possible locations where the facility might be located." She did not call me Mrs. Salvatore, or Cornick, not even Miss Springcove, but blatantly used my first name like we're old friends.
Oh, fine, let's go somewhere else. It didn't bother me. Something about that woman just made me cringe. I had not gotten a danger signal from her, but she had not talked to me. What she had said had been true, but still. Maybe it was the way she looked at Charles and, even more, the way Charles looked back. They had a history, and it had not been a mere work relationship. Three people came into the room wearing lab coats. I got up and grabbed my bag and left with them.
We walked some distance and came to the elevator. The elevator doors opened, and I went in first. Scientists were taller than I three huge guys and even their expressions were neutral I was trapped in the back of the lift when they stepped in.
Someone pushed a button, and the lift started moving. Suddenly, two of them grabbed me and pressed me against the wall of the lift, and I felt a needle plunge into my neck. It stung when something was injected into it. It all happened in just a few seconds, not even a minute, because these were supernatural, not human. The lift stopped between floors, and I was held still. I couldn't even move my arms. I had my jacket on, but no way to get my guns. God damn it, I was angry.
These were strong—probably werewolves or vampires. The drug was potent and blocked my rage completely, and within five minutes, I felt my legs start to give out and my strength fade. I felt the lift start to move as I sank to the ground, almost unconscious. The last thing I noticed was being lifted onto a stretcher. Then, I blacked out completely.