Dangerous by Default

56. Never double-cross dynamite

The voices filled the vaunted halls like a pleasant gas, ricocheting from marble stone to wood pew and draping the congregants in its diffused aura. The woman sat beside her grandfather in a conservative blue dress and white stockings, her electric blond hair falling about her shoulders in elegant straight lines. At least he looked like he could be her grandfather. Bold move for Turtur to want to meet in such a public place like this. She glanced at her platinum wristwatch, then pinched the ends of her hair unconsciously. Her ends were perfect. She realized what she was doing and stopped. Bad habits are a sign of weakness. Weaknesses get you killed.

The choir finished singing and the woman stood up in the pew, carefully pulling Turtur's wheelchair back into the aisle. She hunched her neck slightly to diminish her towering height. She drew enough attention as it was. She didn't want anyone remembering the tall girl with the old man in a wheelchair.

Out into the bright sunlight on the sidewalk beside Grace Cathedral, the woman leaned down to the edge of the old man's ear.

"Why are we here Master Turtur? Besides the lovely music, of course."

He pointed to a park across the street. Roseogrisea scanned the streets nervously. It's easy for him to have the gall to meet like this. He's practically dead. She knew there was no one. Even if there was, it wouldn't matter. She wasn't like the others in the organization, who hid behind petty lives with spouses and children. Bloated themselves with expensive objects, all things that could be taken away. Used to manipulate them. She didn't waste her time with such things. Sure, she liked fast cars, beautiful men and women, her privacy. But she didn't covet these things. She didn't belong to them. She used them. She didn't live in fear like the other Doves. That, she knew, was part of her appeal to the higher ups. No baggage between her and her mission.

"Rose, do you remember the day we first met?"

Roseogrisea's eyebrow raised. Was Turtur getting senile, calling me Rose? Like I really am his granddaughter?

"You don't mind that I call you that, do you? To be honest, the names we give out are horrendously long. I can't be bothered to sound out all of the syllables just to get your attention. I hope this doesn't offend you."

"Not at all, sir. It's an honor just to be enjoying this beautiful day with you," She tucked a strand of shimmering hair behind her ear. "And of course I remember. Istanbul. The end of the term dance recital. The last day I ever wore pointe shoes. You brought us flowers backstage."

"You were vibrant, so far ahead of your classmates." Turtur said with pride in his voice, "I asked you what your dreams were. Do you remember what you told me?"

"It's been so many years." Of course I remember, but I want to see how you say it.

"You told me that your dream was to live in a beautiful house, with a husband that loved you, and a small puppy that always came when you called it's name."

"I was eleven years old. I suppose that was a pretty normal response."

"Your life has not afforded you the chance to live out those dreams, has it? I have always feared I might be the one to blame..."

"Instead, I've been afforded so much more. I've been able to travel the world, have great adventures, be independent, spend as much money as I've made. Have fabulous sex anytime I like, with anyone I like. I'm not complaining, Turtur. In fact, I wouldn't trade my life for any other."

"Hmm. That's interesting to note. You see, Rose... what if you could have all those things you wanted as a little girl?"

Her eyes shot away from his crystal grey gaze, milky by the decades but still piercing with discernment and scrutiny. She was being tested. It was so obvious. For what, she had no idea.

"I don't know Turtur. If the mission demands it, then I will gladly accept the challenge."

"Rose, what do you want?"

She paused. She had never contemplated the question. She never needed to want before. She had the mission. She had desires. But to want something is an altogether different concept. It meant longing. It meant struggle. It meant weakness. But of course this was the test. She took a deep breath. The test is timed, she reminded herself, They always are.

Roseogrisea lifted her spine to its full height as she answered him with confidence, "To follow in your footsteps and earn my place on the elders council."

"Aha! That's a good answer. I wouldn't expect anything less of you. Rose, you are not like the others. There is a reason why the assignments that come your way are different, as I'm sure you have noticed. Not the quick catch-and-kill missions, nor the elementary poison pen or blackmail campaigns. Yes, these are normal occurances during the normal course of business. But your assignments have always been broader, more open in scope, for improvisation! The organization, and when I say the organization who I really mean is I, have come to see that you have in your possession a rare gift. A gift that will lead you to one of the biggest assignments the Doves have ever had to offer."

"Anything Turtur, anything at all." What could this mean? He's talking about my childhood. It feels like a distraction to get me vulnerable and exposed. Are these my final moments? She glanced up furtively to scan the rooftops of the towers that edged the parklet around them. Turtur giggled to himself.

"There's no bullet for you! It's a promotion, Rose. Look. It will be a commitment. It requires patience and cunning, but it's not secret. Not illegal, at least compared to what you've done in the past. And the thing is, it all takes place here. It's the kind of assignment that, maybe, if you'd like, you could even grow a little. Plant roots. Find a partner. Have a dog."

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?"

"White Wing's operation is nearly complete. Mina Blue has been removed, and the Cote are in place. She's essentially taken control of Dimensions. Tomorrow we are taking the board by surprise, and then we will be in the position to name anyone we choose to replace Mina Blue as CEO. We've decided it will be you."

Roseogrisea's eyes widened.

"You'll be the true CEO, not another puppet. You'll have nearly 2,000 employees. You'd have to work through the same problems that any CEO would. The day-to-day complaints, the company parties. But you would also be controlling one of the world's most valuable biotech research companies in the world; including its dark labs, the ones that Mina kept hidden from the rest of the company. Guiding it all on our behalf."

"But Isn't White Wing expecting to be named CEO? Based on her report at the conference, it sounded like a done deal. Like it had been promised to her."

"Yes, such a promise was made to her. She wouldn't have mobilized in such a manner without a carrot to follow." Turtur grabbed her wrist affectionately, making her flinch.

"Rose. I realize these actions may reduce my credibility in your eyes. This is the reason I asked to meet in the open. You are welcome to kill me now, if you believe me to be deceitful. With White Wing it is different. She is like the world's most potent dynamite. For tearing something to pieces, there's no one better. Not even you could have accomplished what she's accomplished here in San Francisco. She's become a famous detective in her spare time. But when your goal is to build a new world, you need someone with different talents. Someone who has the imagination not just to explode, but also to create."

"I understand. And really, again, I am honored." Roseogrisea put a gentle hand on his shoulder, "But weren't you the one who always told us to be careful when you double-cross dynamite, as it is sure to blow up in your face?"