The epitome of success, Ambrosius Sidorov had it all.
Money, though didn't need it.
Power, though it bored him.
A lavish penthouse in downtown Chicago.
And the most powerful Throne.
That is, up until the fateful night when his siblings were murdered...
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Point Nemo, South Pacific Ocean
The ocean wind beat against the yacht. Ambrosius and his team had been travelling for three days at this point. The mercerized polo shirt provided some warmth and protection to Ambrosius against the chilly. Breeze.
-We are almost at the coordinates sir.- Tim informed the master, but did not gain a reaction from him. Ambrosius remained collected and unreacting. He merely angled his face to meet Tim’s gaze, but they both knew the thoughts going through Ambrosius’ mind.
The silence was anything but awkward. The waves continued crashing against the boat despite the absence of voices.
-You know what to do.- Ambrosius replied. Tim nodded in acknowledgement and made his way towards the stern of the yacht.
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There, multiple crates lined the deck floor. 20, at first glance. They were all marked with a biohazard symbol since they contained vials of the virus Nicholas had weaponized. Contact with water rendered the strain completely harmless and useless to any sadistic plots.
Charlotte and Mark materialized from the cabin, aware and ready of what they all were to do. In unison and after putting gloves on, they began throwing the crates overboard. One by one they splashed into the ocean and began sinking. The bodyguards continued their task in synchrony. The crates had all felt heavier than expected and when the contents from the last one spilled open, the reason was obvious. Gold.
The bodyguards gasped at the horrid realization. They had thrown at least 200 billion dollars worth of gold overboard. The thought alone sent shockwaves through their thoughts.
-It’s only going to cause a global recession. We’ll be fine.- Ambrosius’ words were like an atomic bomb. Extremely far from comforting.
-You knew all along?- Mark asked in disbelief. His eyes were wide open. The situation in and of itself was beyond his comprehension and pay grade.
-I took the liberty of making each of you billionaires as part of my recession aid bonus. The Global Economy is set to collapse in 24 hours and will require a Sidorov bailout of 30 Trillion dollars.-
-So why throw out billions of dollars of gold?- Charlotte demanded, her tone bordered on the hysterical side.
-Not billions. 2 Trillion. It’s my insurance policy. Gold is consumable to a true Sidorov.- Ambrosius corrected. Mark fainted and hit the floor hard. The master rolled his eyes in annoyance. Millions of dollars spent on bodyguards only to experience this much inconvenience.
-I believe you all should survive. Don’t buy an excessive mansion and you should be fine. Here are your new identities.- Ambrosius kicked Mark awake, an action that shocked even Charlotte and Tim. He handed each one a file with Swiss passports, an American Express Centurion card, BMW keys, and new bank account numbers. Everything required to start over and then some.
-Thanks, but I don’t need this. Charlotte threw the contents save the keys overboard. Tim and Mark were hesitant but eventually followed suit.
-You are all a bunch of bloody mad peasants.-
-We did keep the keys, master.- Charlotte teased, biting back a chuckle.
-Fine, you’re smart peasants but peasants nonetheless.
-Peasants nonetheless. I like that.- Tim smirked and proceeded to walk inside. Mark and Charlotte went below deck as the vessel had nearly come to a halt. They had finally reached Point Nemo.
Ambrosius reached for his suitcase and sorted through the items one final time. The laptop was the first thing to go overboard. He felt bad but at least no wildlife would be harmed by the pollution. The current was so strong that not even plankton lived in these waters. He could not risk anyone gaining access to any of the protocols, given that the Administration was slow to get rid of them. He didn’t want to take any risks.
He withdrew a knife and a lighter. He struck it on and brought the blade close to the flame. Without hesitation he jabbed the knife right under his collarbone. Some blood seeped through but nothing major to cause alarm. At least he hadn’t hit an artery. He poked around the internal flesh and muscle. When he found what he was looking for, he withdrew his finger.
The tracker. About the size of an average pill. Innocent to the naked eye, but evil in Ambrosius’. He contemplated the miniscule device for an abbreviated moment before launching it to its watery grave.
-Good riddance.- He muttered as he rested his hand on his injured arm.
The boat began its pace once again. It would be another four days before they reached their destination, but at long last he was free.
